CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
It was about three months after this conversation that Amine and Philipwere again seated upon the mossy bank which we have mentioned, and whichhad become their favourite resort. Father Mathias had contracted agreat intimacy with Father Seysen, and the two priests were almost asinseparable as were Philip and Amine. Having determined to wait asummons previous to Philip's again entering upon his strange and fearfultask; and, happy in the possession of each other, the subject was seldomrevived. Philip, who had, on his return, expressed his wish to theDirectors of the Company for immediate employment, and, if possible, tohave the command of a vessel, had, since that period, taken no furthersteps, nor had had any communication with Amsterdam.
"I am fond of this bank, Philip," said Amine; "I appear to have formedan intimacy with it. It was here, if you recollect, that we debated thesubject of the lawfulness of inducing dreams; and it was here, dearPhilip, that you told me your dream, and that I expounded it."
"You did so, Amine; but if you ask the opinion of Father Seysen, youwill find that he would give rather a strong decision against you--hewould call it heretical and damnable."
"Let him, if he pleases. I have no objection to tell him."
"I pray not, Amine; let the secret remain with ourselves only."
"Think you Father Mathias would blame me?"
"I certainly do."
"Well, I do not; there is a kindness and liberality about the old manthat I admire. I should like to argue the question with him."
As Amine spoke, Philip felt something touch his shoulder, and a suddenchill ran through his frame. In a moment his ideas reverted to theprobable cause: he turned round his head, and, to his amazement, beheldthe (supposed to be drowned) mate of the Ter Schilling, the one-eyedSchriften, who stood behind him with a letter in his hand. The suddenappearance of this malignant wretch induced Philip to exclaim, "MercifulHeaven! is it possible?"
Amine, who had turned her head round at the exclamation of Philip,covered up her face, and burst into tears. It was not I fear thatcaused this unusual emotion on her part, but the conviction that herhusband was never to be at rest but in the grave.
"Philip Vanderdecken," said Schriften, "he! he! I've a letter for you--it is from the Company."
Philip took the letter, but, previous to opening it, he fixed his eyesupon Schriften. "I thought," said he, "that you were drowned when theship was wrecked in False Bay. How did you escape?"
"How did I escape?" replied Schriften. "Allow me to ask, how did youescape?"
"I was thrown up by the waves," replied Philip; "but--"
"But," interrupted Schriften, "he! he! the waves ought _not_ to havethrown me up."
"And why not, pray? I did not say that."
"No! but I presume you wish it had been so; but, on the contrary, Iescaped in the same way that you did--I was thrown up by the waves--he!he! but I can't wait here. I have done my bidding."
"Stop," replied Philip; "answer me one question. Do you sail in thesame vessel with me this time?"
"I'd rather be excused," replied Schriften; "I am not looking for thePhantom Ship, Mynheer Vanderdecken;" and, with this reply, the littleman turned round, and went away at a rapid pace.
"Is not this a summons, Amine?" said Philip, after a pause, stillholding the letter in his hand, with the seal unbroken.
"I will not deny it, dearest Philip. It is most surely so; the hatefulmessenger appears to have risen from the grave that he might deliver it.Forgive me, Philip; but I was taken by surprise. I will not againannoy you with a woman's weakness."
"My poor Amine," replied Philip, mournfully. "Alas! why did I notperform my pilgrimage alone? It was selfish of me to link you with somuch wretchedness, and join you with me in bearing the fardel ofnever-ending anxiety and suspense."
"And who should bear it with you, my dearest Philip, if it is not thewife of your bosom? You little know my heart if you think I shrink fromthe duty. No, Philip, it is a pleasure, even in its most acute pangs;for I consider that I am, by partaking with, relieving you of a portionof your sorrow, and I am proud that I am the wife of one who has beenselected to be so peculiarly tried. But, dearest, no more of this. Youmust read the letter."
Philip did not answer. He broke the seal, and found that the letterintimated to him that he was appointed as first mate to the VrowKaterina, a vessel which sailed with the next fleet; and requesting hewould join as quickly as possible, as she would soon be ready to receiveher cargo. The letter, which was from the secretary, further informedhim that, after this voyage, he might be certain of having the commandof a vessel as captain, upon conditions which would be explained when hecalled upon the Board.
"I thought, Philip, that you had requested the command of a vessel forthis voyage," observed Amine, mournfully.
"I did," replied Philip; "but not having followed up my application, itappears not to have been attended to. It has been my own fault."
"And now it is too late."
"Yes, dearest, most assuredly so: but it matters not; I would aswillingly, perhaps rather, sail this voyage as first mate."
"Philip, I may as well speak now. That I am disappointed, I mustconfess; I fully expected that you would have had the command of avessel, and you may remember that I exacted a promise from you on thisvery bank upon which we now sit, at the time that you told me yourdream. That promise I shall still exact, and I now tell you what I hadintended to ask. It was, my dear Philip, permission to sail with you.With you, I care for nothing. I can be happy under every privation ordanger; but to be left alone for so long, brooding over my painfulthoughts, devoured by suspense, impatient, restless, and incapable ofapplying to any one thing--that, dear Philip, is the height of misery,and that is what I feel when you are absent. Recollect, I have yourpromise, Philip. As captain, you have the means of receiving your wifeon board. I am bitterly disappointed in being left this time; do,therefore, to a certain degree, console me by promising that I shallsail with you next voyage, if Heaven permit your return."
"I promise it, Amine, since you are so earnest. I can refuse younothing; but I have a foreboding that yours and my happiness will bewrecked for ever. I am not a visionary, but it does appear to me that,strangely mixed up as I am, at once with this world and the next, somelittle portion of futurity is opened to me. I have given my promise,Amine, but from it I would fain be released."
"And if ill _do_ come, Philip, it is our destiny. Who can avert fate?"
"Amine, we are free agents, and to a certain extent are permitted todirect our own destinies."
"Ay, so would Father Seysen fain have made me believe; but what he saidin support of his assertion was to me incomprehensible. And yet he saidthat it was a part of the Catholic faith. It may be so--I am unable tounderstand many other points. I wish your faith were made more simple.As yet the good man--for good he really is--has only led me into doubt."
"Passing through doubt, you will arrive at conviction, Amine."
"Perhaps so," replied Amine; "but it appears to me that I am as yet buton the outset of my journey. But come, Philip; let us return. You mustto Amsterdam, and I will go with you. After your labours of the day, atleast until you sail, your Amine's smiles must still enliven you. Is itnot so?"
"Yes, dearest, I would have proposed it. I wonder much how Schriftencould come here. I did not see his body it is certain, but his escapeis to me miraculous. Why did he not appear when saved? where could hehave been? What think you, Amine?"
"What I have long thought, Philip. He is a Ghoul with evil eye,permitted for some cause to walk the earth in human form; and iscertainly, in some way, connected with your strange destiny. If itrequires anything to convince me of the truth of all that has passed, itis his appearance--the wretched Afrit! Oh, that I had my mother'spowers!--but I forget, it displeases you, Philip, that I ever talk ofsuch things, and I am silent."
Philip replied not; and, absorbed in their own meditations, they walkedback in silenc
e to the cottage. Although Philip had made up his ownmind, he immediately sent the Portuguese priest to summon Father Seysen,that he might communicate with them and take their opinion as to thesummons he had received. Having entered into a fresh detail of thesupposed death of Schriften, and his reappearance as a messenger, hethen left the two priests to consult together, and went upstairs toAmine. It was more than two hours before Philip was called down, andFather Seysen appeared to be in a state of great perplexity.
"My son," said he, "we are much perplexed. We had hoped that our ideasupon this strange communication were correct, and that, allowing allthat you have obtained from your mother and have seen yourself to havebeen no deception, still that it was the work of the evil one, and, ifso, our prayers and masses would have destroyed this power. We advisedyou to wait another summons, and you have received it. The letteritself is of course nothing, but the reappearance of the bearer of theletter is the question to be considered. Tell me, Philip, what is youropinion on this point? It is possible he might have been saved--why notas well as yourself?"
"I acknowledge the possibility, Father," replied Philip; "he may havebeen cast on shore and have wandered in another direction. It ispossible, although anything but probable; but since you ask me myopinion, I must say candidly that I consider he is no earthlymessenger--nay, I am sure of it. That he is mysteriously connected withmy destiny is certain. But who he is, and what he is, of course Icannot tell."
"Then, my son, we have come to the determination, in this instance notto advise. You must act now upon your own responsibility and your ownjudgment. In what way soever you may decide, we shall not blame you.Our prayers shall be, that Heaven may still have you in its holykeeping."
"My decision, holy Father is to obey the summons."
"Be it so, my son; something may occur which may assist to work out themystery,--a mystery which I acknowledge to be beyond my comprehension,and of too painful a nature for me to dwell upon."
Philip said no more, for he perceived that the priest was not at allinclined to converse. Father Mathias took this opportunity of thankingPhilip for his hospitality and kindness, and stated his intention ofreturning to Lisbon by the first opportunity that might offer.
In a few days Amine and Philip took leave of the priests and quitted forAmsterdam--Father Seysen taking charge of the cottage until Amine'sreturn. On his arrival, Philip called upon, the Directors of theCompany, who promised him a ship on his return from the voyage he wasabout to enter upon, making a condition that he should become part ownerof the vessel. To this Philip consented, and then went down to visitthe Vrow Katerina, the ship to which he had been appointed as firstmate. She was still unrigged, and the fleet was not expected to sailfor two months. Only part of the crew were on board, and the captain,who lived in Dort, had not yet arrived.
So far as Philip could judge, the Vrow Katerina was a very inferiorvessel; she was larger than many of the others, but old, and badlyconstructed; nevertheless, as she had been several voyages to theIndies, and had returned in safety, it was to be presumed that she couldnot have been taken up by the Company if they had not been satisfied asto her seaworthiness. Having given a few directions to the men who wereon board, Philip returned to the hostelrie where he had securedapartments for himself and Amine.
The next day, as Philip was superintending the fitting of the rigging,the captain of the Vrow Katerina arrived, and stepping on board of herby the plank which communicated with the quay, the first thing that hedid was to run to the mainmast and embrace it with both arms, althoughthere was no small portion of tallow on it to smear the cloth of hiscoat. "Oh! my dear Vrow, my Katerina!" cried he, as if he were speakingto a female. "How do you do? I'm glad to see you again--you have beenquite well, I hope? You do not like being laid up in this way. Nevermind, my dear creature! you shall soon be handsome again."
The name of this personage who thus made love to his vessel was WilhelmBarentz. He was a young man, apparently not thirty years of age, ofdiminutive stature and delicate proportions. His face was handsome, butwomanish. His movements were rapid and restless, and there was thatappearance in his eye which would have warranted the supposition that hewas a little flighty, even if his conduct had not fully proved the fact.
No sooner were the ecstasies of the captain over, than Philip introducedhimself to him, and informed him of his appointment. "Oh! you are thefirst mate of the Vrow Katerina Sir, you are a very fortunate man. Nextto being captain of her, first mate is the most enviable situation inthe world."
"Certainly not on account of her beauty," observed Philip; "she may havemany other good qualities."
"Not on account of her beauty! Why, sir, I say (as my father has saidbefore me, and it was his Vrow before it was mine) that she is thehandsomest vessel in the world. At present you cannot judge; andbesides being the handsomest vessel, she has every good quality underthe sun."
"I am glad to hear it, sir," replied Philip; "it proves that one shouldnever judge by appearances. But is she not very old?"
"Old! not more than twenty-eight years--just in her prime. Stop, mydear sir, till you see her dancing on the waters, and then you will donothing all day but discourse with me upon her excellence, and I have nodoubt that we shall have a very happy time together."
"Provided the subject be not exhausted," replied Philip.
"That it never will be on my part: and allow me to observe, MrVanderdecken, that any officer who finds fault with the Vrow Katerinaquarrels with me. I am her knight, and I have already fought three menin her defence,--I trust I shall not have to fight a fourth."
Philip smiled: he thought that she was not worth fighting for; but heacted upon the suggestion, and, from that time forward, he neverventured to express an opinion against the beautiful Vrow Katerina.
The crew were soon complete, the vessel rigged, her sails bent, and shewas anchored in the stream, surrounded by the other ships composing thefleet about to be despatched. The cargo was then received on board,and, as soon as her hold was full, there came, to Philip's greatvexation, an order to receive on board 150 soldiers and otherpassengers, many of whom were accompanied by their wives and families.Philip worked hard, for the captain did nothing but praise the vessel,and at last they had embarked everything, and the fleet was ready tosail.
It was now time to part with Amine, who had remained at the hostelrie,and to whom Philip had dedicated every spare moment that he couldobtain. The fleet was expected to sail in two days, and it was decidedthat on the morrow they should part. Amine was cool and collected. Shefelt convinced that she should see her husband again, and with thatfeeling she embraced him as they separated on the beach, and he steppedinto the boat in which he was to be pulled on board.
"Yes," thought Amine, as she watched the form of her husband, as thedistance between them increased--"yes, I know that we shall meet again.It is not this voyage which is to be fatal to you or me; but I have adark foreboding that the next, in which I shall join you, will separateus for ever--in which way I know not--but it is destined. The prieststalk of free will. Is it free-will which takes him away from me? Wouldhe not rather remain on shore with me? Yes. But he is not permitted,for he must fulfil his destiny. Free-will? Why, if it were not destinyit were tyranny. I feel, and have felt, as if these priests are myenemies; but why I know not: they are both good men, and the creed theyteach is good. Goodwill and charity love to all, forgiveness ofinjuries, not judging others. All this is good; and yet my heartwhispers to me that--but the boat is alongside, and Philip is climbingup the vessel. Farewell, farewell, my dearest husband. I would I werea man! No, no! 'tis better as it is."
Amine watched till she could no longer perceive Philip, and then walkedslowly to the hostelrie. The next day, when she arose, she found thatthe fleet had sailed at daylight, and the channel, which had been socrowded with vessels, was now untenanted.
"He is gone," muttered Amine; "now, for many months of patient, calmenduring,--I cannot say of liv
ing, for I exist but in his presence."
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