“Well, this is a new style of navigation, but I ought to be thankful that I have got something to keep me above water,” he said to himself.
He of course, as he glided on, was looking about in all directions, and he now caught sight in the distance of what he hoped was a boat. Again and again he cast his eager gaze at the object. Yes, it was a boat, and a man was in her; he waved his hat and shouted. As he approached, the Count looked at him; yes, he was, there could be no doubt about it, the one-eyed mariner, old Pieter, who shouted—
“Hold on, Mynheer! hold on! and I will soon be up to you.”
“What, don’t you know me?” asked the Count, as Pieter got near.
“Bless me, of course I do; and glad I am to have come to take you on board, or you might have been carried away into the Zuyder Zee, or somewhere else, for aught I can tell. When I saw you on board Captain Jan Dunck’s vessel, I tried to get near enough to warn you that you must beware of him, as I felt sure that he would play you some scurvy trick or other. He has been going on from bad to worse, all owing to the oceans of schiedam he has poured down that ugly mouth of his.”
This was said when the Count was comfortably seated in the stern of Pieter’s boat. There was another person on board whom the Count recognised as the small ship’s boy, who had long been Pieter’s faithful companion. He nodded and smiled his recognition, and seemed highly delighted at again meeting with the Count.
“And now where shall we go?” asked Pieter.
“To the nearest shore where I can obtain food and shelter, and change my wet garments,” answered the Count.
“Well, you do look dampish,” observed Pieter.
“Damp! I have been wet to the skin for these hours past, and almost starved to death in the bargain,” said the Count.