von glass vor vet deir vistles," echoed the Dutchman, with a
wink and a look which produced a roar of laughter. The glass was
accepted by all, including Lockley, who had been quite demoralised by
the first glass.

The victory was gained by the tempter for that time at least. The
fishermen who went for baccy, remained for schnapps, and some of them
were very soon more than half drunk. It was a fierce, maddening kind of
spirit, which produced its powerful effects quickly.

The skipper of the _Lively Poll_ kept himself better in hand than his
men, but, being very sociable in disposition, and finding the Dutchman a
humorous and chatty fellow, he saw no reason to hurry them away.
Besides, his vessel was close alongside, and nothing could be done in
the fishing way during the dead calm that prevailed.

While he and his men were engaged in a lively conversation about nothing
in particular--though they were as earnest over it as if the fate of
empires depended on their judgment--the Dutch skipper rose to welcome
another boat's crew, which approached on the other side of the _coper_.
So eager and fuddled were the disputants of the _Lively Poll_ that they
did not at first observe the newcomers.

It was the _Fairy's_ boat, with Dick Martin in charge.

"Hallo, Dick, mein boy; gif me your vlipper."

A sign from Martin induced the Dutchman to lean over the side and speak
in lower tones.

"Let's have a keg of it," said Dick, with a mysterious look. "Ned Bryce
sent me for a good supply, an' here's _fish_ to pay for it."

The fish--which of course belonged to the owner of the _Fairy_, not to
Ned Bryce--were quickly passed up, and a keg of spirits passed down.
Then the Dutchman asked if Dick or his men wanted tabac or schnapps for
themselves.

"I vill take jersey, or vish, or sail, or boots, or vat you please in
exchange. Com' aboard, anyhow, an' have von leetle glass."

Dick and his men having thus smartly transacted their chief business,
leaped on deck, made fast their painter, let the boat drop astern, and
were soon smoking and drinking amicably with the crew of the _Lively
Poll_. Not long afterwards they were quarrelling. Then Dick Martin,
who was apt to become pugnacious over his liquor, asserted stoutly that
something or other "was." Joe Stubley swore that it "_was not_,"
whereupon Dick Martin planted his fist on Joe Stubley's nose and laid
its growly owner flat on the deck.

Starting up, Joe was about to reta