came down to fill a jar with salt water, probably to
bathe the limbs of one of his children.

"How long are we likely to remain here, Captain Jan Dunck?" inquired the
Count.

"As I said before, and say it again, till the tide turns or the breeze
springs up," answered the skipper. "What a hurry you appear to be in.
The mariners in these seas have to learn patience--a valuable quality
under all circumstances. If we grumbled every time we had a calm, or a
foul wind, or stuck on a mud-bank, we should never cease grumbling."

"Suppose, Captain, as we have nothing else to do, you or one of your
crew would be good enough to spin us a yarn," said the Count.

"One-eyed Pieter will spin you a yarn which will last into the middle of
next week," said the skipper.

"Then I think that he had better not begin," observed the Count; "for I
hope before that time we shall be indulging in fresh milk and eggs on
shore."

"You do, do you, noble sir?" said the one-eyed mariner, winking at the
mate, or rather intending to do so, for he winked in an opposite
direction, as was his custom, though he was unconscious of it. "We're
not out of the Scheldt yet, and if we don't get a fair wind, it will be
a pretty long time before we reach the Texel and get into the Zuyder
Zee."

"Ja, ja; one-eyed Pieter speaks but the truth. You must be prepared,
when navigating the changeful ocean, to meet with foul winds as well as
fair ones," said the Captain. "Remember that I undertook only to convey
you to your destination wind and weather permitting. No skipper ever
takes passengers on any other terms."

"I am prepared for whatever Fate wills," said the Count, folding his
hands.

"And so am I," said the Baron. "And now I propose, as it is getting
late, and I feel sleepiness stealing over my eyelids, that we turn into
our bunks and resign ourselves to the keeping of the drowsy god."

"I don't know what you mean by talking of the drowsy god," said the
skipper. "As far as I can make out, you intend to take a snooze; that's
the best thing you can do."

The Count and the Baron accordingly turned into their berths (not
knocking their heads more than half-a-dozen times as they did so), and
were very soon snoring away in concert. So ended the first day of their
voyages and travels.

CHAPTER THREE.

"A fair wind, Mynheers! a fair wind!" shouted Captain Jan Dunck down the
cabin skylight. "Rouse up, rouse up; come on deck and see how the
_G