nd blitzen! we have been staying this
half-hour. Come, bless the good ship and the voyage, and be cursed to ye
for a hag of Satan!'

At this moment he noticed Mannering, who, from the position which he had
taken to watch Meg Merrilies's incantations, had the appearance of some
one who was concealing himself, being half hidden by the buttress behind
which he stood. The Captain, for such he styled himself, made a sudden
and startled pause, and thrust his right hand into his bosom between his
jacket and waistcoat as if to draw some weapon. 'What cheer, brother? you
seem on the outlook, eh?' Ere Mannering, somewhat struck by the man's
gesture and insolent tone of voice, had made any answer, the gipsy
emerged from her vault and joined the stranger. He questioned her in an
undertone, looking at Mannering--'A shark alongside, eh?'

She answered in the same tone of under-dialogue, using the cant language
of her tribe--'Cut ben whids, and stow them; a gentry cove of the ken.'
[Footnote: Meaning--Stop your uncivil language; that is a gentleman from
the house below.]

The fellow's cloudy visage cleared up. 'The top of the morning to you,
sir; I find you are a visitor of my friend Mr. Bertram. I beg pardon, but
I took you for another sort of a person.'

Mannering replied, 'And you, sir, I presume, are the master of that
vessel in the bay?'

'Ay, ay, sir; I am Captain Dirk Hatteraick, of the Yungfrauw
Hagenslaapen, well known on this coast; I am not ashamed of my name, nor
of my vessel--no, nor of my cargo neither for that matter.'

'I daresay you have no reason, sir.'

'Tausend donner, no; I'm all in the way of fair trade. Just loaded yonder
at Douglas, in the Isle of Man--neat cogniac--real hyson and
souchong--Mechlin lace, if you want any--right cogniac--we bumped ashore
a hundred kegs last night.'

'Really, sir, I am only a traveller, and have no sort of occasion for
anything of the kind at present.'

'Why, then, good-morning to you, for business must be minded--unless
ye'll go aboard and take schnaps; you shall have a pouch-full of tea
ashore. Dirk Hatteraick knows how to be civil.'

There was a mixture of impudence, hardihood, and suspicious fear about
this man which was inexpressibly disgusting. His manners were those of a
ruffian, conscious of the suspicion attending his character, yet aiming
to bear it down by the affectation of a careless and hardy familiarity.
Mannering briefly rejected his proffered civilitie