<h2><SPAN name="Chapter_VIII"></SPAN>Chapter VIII</h2>
<h3>In which the Widow lays a trap for Mr Vanslyperken,<br/> and Smallbones lays a trap for Snarleyyow, and both bag their game.</h3>
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<p>The widow Vandersloosh, as we have informed the reader, was the
owner of a Lust Haus, or pleasure-house for sailors: we will
describe that portion of her tenements more particularly
by-and-bye: at present, we must advert to her own private house,
which stood adjoining, and had a communication with the Lust Haus
by a private door through the party wall. This was a very small,
snug little habitation, with one window in each front, and two
stories high; containing a front parlour and kitchen on the
basement, two small rooms on the first, and two on the second
floor. Nothing could be better arranged for a widow's residence.
Moreover, she had a back-yard running the whole length of the wall
of the Lust Haus in the rear, with convenient offices, and a
back-door into the street behind.</p>
<p>Mr Vanslyperken had arrived, paid his humble devoirs to the
widow, more humble, because he was evidently pleased with his own
person, and had been followed by Smallbones, who laid the biscuit
by the scraper at the door, watching it as in duty bound. The
lieutenant imagined that he was more graciously received than
usual. Perhaps he was, for the widow had not had so much custom
lately, and was glad the crew of the cutter were arrived to spend
their money. Already had Vanslyperken removed his sword and belt,
and laid them with his three-cornered laced hat on the side-table;
he was already cosily, as of wont, seated upon the widow's little
fubsy sofa, with the lady by his side, and he had just taken her
hand and was about to renew his suit, to pour forth the impromptu
effusions of his heart, concocted on the quarter-deck of the
<i>Yungfrau</i>, when who should bolt into the parlour but the
unwelcome Snarleyyow.</p>
<p>"O that nasty brute! Mynheer Vanslyperken, how dare you bring
him into my house?" cried the widow, jumping up from the sofa, with
her full-moon-face red with anger.</p>
<p>"Indeed, widow," replied Vanslyperken, "I left him on board,
knowing that you were not fond of animals; but some one has brought
him on shore. However, I'll find out who it was, and keel-haul him
in honour of your charms."</p>
<p>"I am fond of animals, Mr Vanslyperken, but I am not fond of
such animals as that--such a filthy, ugly, disagreeable, snarling
brute; nor can I think how you can keep him after what I have said
about it. It don't prove much regard, Mr Vanslyperken, when such a
dog as that is kept on purpose to annoy me."</p>
<p>"I assure you, widow--"</p>
<p>"Don't assure me, Mr Vanslyperken, there's no occasion--your dog
is your own--but I'll thank you to take him out of this house; and,
perhaps, as he won't go without you, you had better go with
him."</p>
<p>Now the widow had never spoken so indignantly before: if the
reader wishes to know why she did so now, we will acquaint him; the
widow Vandersloosh had perceived Smallbones, who sat like Patience
on a monument, upon the two half bags of biscuit before her porch.
It was a query to the widow whether they were to be a present, or
an article to be bargained for: it was therefore very advisable to
pick a quarrel, that the matter might be cleared up. The widow's
ruse met with all the success which it deserved. In the first
place, Mr Vanslyperken did what he never would have believed
himself capable of, but the wrath of the widow had worked him also
up to wrath, and he saluted Snarleyyow with such a kick on the
side, as to send him howling into the back-yard, followed him out,
and, notwithstanding an attempt at defence on the part of the dog,
which the lieutenant's high boots rendered harmless, Snarleyyow was
fairly or unfairly, as you may please to think it, kicked into an
outhouse, the door shut, and the key turned upon him. After which
Mr Vanslyperken returned to the parlour, where he found the widow,
erect, with her back turned to the stove, blowing and bristling,
her bosom heaving, reminding you of seas mountains high, as if she
were still under the effect of a just resentment for the affront
offered to her. There she stood waiting in all dignity for Mr
Vanslyperken to repair the injury done, whether unintentional or
not. In few words, there she waited, for the <i>biscuit</i> to be
presented to her. And it was presented, for Vanslyperken knew no
other way of appeasing her wrath. Gradually the storm was
allayed--the flush of anger disappeared, the corners of the
scornfully-turned-down mouth, were turned up again--Cupid's bow was
no longer bent in anger, and the widow's bosom slept as when the
ocean sleeps, like "an unweaned child." The biscuit bags were
brought in by Smallbones, their contents stored, and harmony
restored. Once more was Mr Vanslyperken upon the little sofa by the
side of the fat widow, and once more did he take her melting hand.
Alas! that her heart was not made of the same soft materials.</p>
<p>But we must not only leave Short and his companions in the Lust
Haus, but the widow and the lieutenant in their soft dalliance, and
now occupy ourselves with the two principal personages of this our
drama, Smallbones and Snarleyyow.</p>
<p>When Smallbones had retired, with the empty bread-bags under his
arm, he remained some time reflecting at the porch, and then having
apparently made up his mind, he walked to a chandler's shop just
over the bridge of the canal opposite, and purchased a needle, some
strong twine, and a red-herring. He also procured, "without
purchase," as they say in our War Office Gazettes, a few pieces of
stick. Having obtained all these, he went round to the door of the
yard behind the widow's house, and let himself in. Little did Mr
Vanslyperken imagine what mischief was brewing, while he was
praising and drinking the beer of the widow's own brewing.</p>
<p>Smallbones had no difficulty in finding out where Snarleyyow was
confined, for the dog was very busy gnawing his way through the
door, which, however, was a work of time, and not yet a quarter
accomplished. The place had been a fowl-house, and, at the bottom
of the door, there was a small hatch for the ingress and egress of
these bipeds, the original invention of some thrifty spinster, to
prevent the maids from stealing eggs. But this hatch was closed, or
Snarleyyow would have escaped through it. Smallbones took up his
quarters in another outhouse, that he might not be observed, and
commenced his operations.</p>
<p>He first took out the bottom of one bread-bag, and then sewed
that on the other to make it longer; he then ran a string through
the mouth, so as to draw it close when necessary, and cut his
sticks so as to support it and keep it open. All this being
arranged, he went to where Snarleyyow was busy gnawing wood with
great pertinacity, and allowed him not only to smell, but to tear
off the tail of the red-herring, under the door; and then gradually
drew the herring along until he had brought it right under the
hatch in the middle, which left it at the precise distance that the
dog could snuff it but not reach it, which Snarleyyow now did, in
preference to gnawing wood. When you lay a trap, much depends upon
the bait; Smallbones knew his enemy's partiality for savoury
comestibles. He then brought out his bag, set up his supporters,
fixed it close to the hatch, and put the red-herring inside of it.
With the string in one hand, he lifted up the hatch with the other.
Snarleyyow rushed out and rushed in, and in a moment the strings
were drawn, and as soon as drawn were tied tight round the mouth of
the bag. Snarleyyow was caught; he tumbled over and over, rolling
now to the right and now to the left, while Smallbones grinned with
delight. After amusing himself a short time with the evolutions of
his prisoner, he dragged him in his bag into the outhouse where he
had made his trap, shut the door, and left him. The next object was
to remove any suspicion on the part of Mr Vanslyperken; and to
effect this, Smallbones tore off the hatch, and broke it in two or
three pieces, bit parts of it with his own teeth, and laid them
down before the door, making it appear as if the dog had gnawed his
own way out. The reason for allowing the dog still to remain in
prison, was that Smallbones dared not attempt anything further
until it was dark, and there was yet an hour or more to wait for
the close of the day.</p>
<p>Smallbones had but just finished his work in time; for the widow
having been summoned to her guests in the Lust Haus, had left
Vanslyperken alone, and the lieutenant thought this a good
opportunity to look after his four-footed favourite. He came out
into the yard, where he found Smallbones, and he had his
misgivings.</p>
<p>"What are you doing here, sir?"</p>
<p>"Waiting for you, sir," replied Smallbones, humbly.</p>
<p>"And the dog?" said Vanslyperken, observing the strewed
fragments of the door hatch.</p>
<p>"He's a-bitten himself out, sir, I believe."</p>
<p>"And where is he, then?"</p>
<p>"I don't know, sir; I suppose he's gone down to the boat."</p>
<p>Snarleyyow hearing his master's voice, had commenced a whine,
and Smallbones trembled: fortunately, at that moment, the widow's
ample form appeared at the back-door of the house, and she called
to Mr Vanslyperken. The widow's voice drowned the whine of the dog,
and his master did not hear it. At the summons, Vanslyperken but
half convinced, but not daring to show any interest about the
animal in the presence of his mistress, returned to the parlour,
and very soon the dog was forgotten.</p>
<p>But as the orgies in the Lust Haus increased, so did it become
more necessary for the widow to make frequent visits there; not
only to supply her customers, but to restrain them by her presence;
and as the evening wore away, so did the absences of the widow
become more frequent. This Vanslyperken well knew, and he therefore
always pressed his suit in the afternoon, and as soon as it was
dark returned on board. Smallbones, who watched at the back-door
the movements of his master, perceived that he was refixing his
sword-belt over his shoulder, and he knew this to be the signal for
departure. It was now quite dark, he therefore hastened to the
outhouse, and dragged out Snarleyyow in the bag, swung him over his
shoulder, and walked out of the yard-door, proceeded to the canal
in front of the widow's house, looked round him, could perceive
nobody, and then dragged the bag with its contents into the
stagnant water below, just as Mr Vanslyperken, who had bidden adieu
to the widow, came out of the house. There was a heavy splash--and
silence. Had such been heard on the shores of the Bosphorus on such
a night, it would have told some tale of unhappy love and a
husband's vengeance; but, at Amsterdam, it was nothing more than
the drowning of a cur.</p>
<p>"Who's there--is it Smallbones?" said Mr Vanslyperken.</p>
<p>"Yes, sir," said Smallbones, with alarm.</p>
<p>"What was that noise I heard?"</p>
<p>"Noise, sir? Oh, I kicked a paving-stone into the canal."</p>
<p>"And don't you know there is heavy fine for that, you scoundrel?
And pray where are the bread-bags?"</p>
<p>"The bread-bags, sir? Oh, Mr Short took them to tie up some
vegetables in them."</p>
<p>"Mr Short! O, very well. Come along, sir, and no more throwing
stones into the canal; why you might have killed somebody--there is
a boat down there now, I hear the people talking." And Mr
Vanslyperken hastened to his boat, which was waiting for him;
anxious to ascertain if Snarleyyow, as he fully expected, was in
it. But to his grief and disappointment he was not there, and Mr
Vanslyperken sat in the stern sheets, in no pleasant humour,
thinking whether it was or was not a paving-stone which Smallbones
had thrown into the canal, and resolving that if the dog did not
appear, Smallbones should be keel-hauled. There was, however, one
more chance, the dog might have been taken on board.</p>
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