lence.

"What can that be?" said Mynheer Kloots (who was forward), taking the
pipe out of his mouth. "Mynheer Vanderdecken, will you see what is the
matter?"

Philip went aft, as the pealing of the bell continued, and opening the
cabin door, discovered the supercargo perched upon the table and pulling
the bell-rope, which hung over its centre, with every mark of fear in
his countenance. His wig was off, and his bare skull gave him an
appearance peculiarly ridiculous.

"What is the matter, sir?" inquired Philip.

"Matter!" spluttered Mynheer Von Stroom--"call the troops in with their
firelocks. Quick, sir. Am I to be murdered, torn to pieces, and
devoured? For mercy's sake, sir, don't stare, but do something--look,
it's coming to the table! O dear! O dear!" continued the supercargo,
evidently terrified out of his wits.

Philip, whose eyes had been fixed on Mynheer Von Stroom, turned them in
the direction pointed out, and much to his astonishment perceived a
small bear upon the deck, who was amusing himself with the supercargo's
flowing wig, which he held in his paws, tossing it about and now and
then burying his muzzle in it. The unexpected sight of the animal was
at first a shock to Philip; but a moment's consideration assured him
that the animal must be harmless, or it never would have been permitted
to remain loose in the vessel.

Nevertheless, Philip had no wish to approach the animal, whose
disposition he was unacquainted with, when the appearance of Mynheer
Kloots put an end to his difficulty.

"What is the matter, Mynheer?" said the captain. "O! I see: it is
Johannes," continued the captain, going up to the bear, and saluting him
with a kick, as he recovered the supercargo's wig. "Out of the cabin,
Johannes! Out, sir!" cried Mynheer Kloots, kicking the breech of the
bear till the animal had escaped through the door. "Mynheer Von Stroom,
I am very sorry,--here is your wig. Shut the door, Mynheer
Vanderdecken, or the beast may come back, for he is very fond of me."

As soon the door was shut between Mynheer Von Stroom and the object of
his terror, the little man slid off the table to the high-backed chair
near it, shook out the damaged curls of his wig, and replaced it on his
head; pulled out his ruffles, and, assuming an air of magisterial
importance, struck his cane on the deck, and then spoke.

"Mynheer Kloots, what is the meaning of this disrespect to the
supercargo of the puissant Compa