“Why on earth did you TELL me?” he cried. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. The wheel and the navigating instruments were sternward, under a spread of heavy canvas, a protection against rain and sun. It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it—gout —haw! haw!" "If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galgebrok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain; but, in regard to going back empty-handed," continued he, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air, "it's quite out of the question. ” “Straight?” “Not a bit of it! He’s been out after eight per cent.
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