The Phantom Ship

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

  The fleet under Admiral Rymelandt's command was ordered to proceed tothe East Indies by the western route, through the Straits of Magellaninto the Pacific Ocean--it being still imagined, notwithstandingprevious failures, that this route offered facilities which mightshorten the passage to the Spice Islands.

  The vessels composing the fleet were the Lion of forty-four guns,bearing the admiral's flag; the Dort of thirty-six guns, with thecommodore's pendant--to which Philip was appointed; the Zuyder Zee oftwenty; the Young Frau of twelve, and a ketch of four guns, called theSchevelling.

  The crew of the Vrow Katerina were divided between the two largervessels; the others, being smaller, were easier worked with fewer hands.Every arrangement having been made, the boats were hoisted up, and theships made sail. For ten days they were baffled by light winds, and thevictims to the scurvy increased considerably on board of Philip'svessel. Many died and were thrown overboard, and others were carrieddown to their hammocks.

  The newly-appointed commodore, whose name was Avenhorn, went on board ofthe admiral, to report the state of the vessel and to suggest, as Philiphad proposed to him, that they should make the coast of South America,and endeavour by bribery or by force to obtain supplies either from theSpanish inhabitants or the natives. But to this the admiral would notlisten. He was an imperious, bold, and obstinate man, not to bepersuaded or convinced, and with little feeling for the sufferings ofothers. Tenacious of being advised, he immediately rejected aproposition which, had it originated with himself, would probably havebeen immediately acted upon; and the commodore returned on board hisvessel, not only disappointed, but irritated by the language usedtowards him.

  "What are we do, Captain Vanderdecken? you know too well our situation--it is impossible we can continue long at sea; if we do, the vessel willbe drifting at the mercy of the waves, while the crew die a wretcheddeath in their hammocks. At present we have forty men left; in ten daysmore we shall probably have but twenty; for as the labour becomes moresevere, so do they drop down the faster. Is it not better to risk ourlives in combat with the Spaniards, than die here like rotten sheep?"

  "I perfectly agree with you, commodore," replied Philip;--"but still wemust obey orders. The admiral is an inflexible man."

  "And a cruel one. I have a great mind to part company in the night, andif he finds fault, I will justify myself to the Directors on my return."

  "Do nothing rashly--perhaps, when day by day he finds his own ship'scompany more weakened, he will see the necessity, of following youradvice."

  A week had passed away after this conversation, and the fleet had madelittle progress. In each ship the ravages of the fatal disease becamemore serious, and, as the commodore had predicted, he had but twenty menreally able to do duty. Nor had the admiral's ship and the othervessels suffered less. The commodore again went on board to reiteratehis proposition.

  Admiral Rymelandt was not only a stern, but a vindictive man. He wasaware of the propriety of the suggestion made by his second in command,but having refused it, he would not acquiesce; and he felt revengefulagainst the commodore, whose counsel he must now either adopt, or byrefusing it be prevented from taking the steps so necessary for thepreservation of his crew, and the success of his voyage. Too proud toacknowledge himself in error, again did he decidedly refuse, and thecommodore went back to his own ship. The fleet was then within threedays of the coast, steering to the southward for the Straits ofMagellan, and that night, after Philip had returned to his cot, thecommodore went on deck and ordered the course of the vessel to bealtered some points more to the westward. The night was very dark, andthe Lion was the only ship which carried a poop-lantern, so that theparting company of the Dort was not perceived by the admiral and theother ships of the fleet. When Philip went on deck next morning, hefound that their consorts were not in sight. He looked at the compass,and perceiving that the course was altered, inquired at what hour and bywhose directions. Finding that it was by his superior officer, he ofcourse said nothing. When the commodore came on deck, he stated toPhilip that he felt himself warranted in not complying with theadmiral's orders, as it would have been sacrificing the whole ship'scompany. This was, indeed, true.

  In two days they made the land, and running into the shore, perceived alarge town and Spaniards on the beach. Then anchored at the mouth ofthe river, and hoisted English colours, when a boat came on board to askthem who they were and what they required? The commodore replied thatthe vessel was English, for he knew that the hatred of the Spanish tothe Dutch was so great that, if known to belong to that nation, he wouldhave had no chance of procuring any supplies, except by force. Hestated that he had fallen in with a Spanish vessel, a complete wreck,from the whole of the crew being afflicted with the scurvy; that he hadtaken the men out, who were now in their hammocks below, as heconsidered it cruel to leave so many of his fellow-creatures to perish,and that he had come out of his course to land them at the first Spanishfort he could reach. He requested that they would immediately send onboard vegetables and fresh provisions for the sick men, whom it would bedeath to remove, until after a few days, when they would be a littlerestored; and added, that in return for their assisting the Spaniards,he trusted the governor would also send supplies for his own people.

  This well made-up story was confirmed by the officer sent on board bythe Spanish governor. Being requested to go down below and see thepatients, the sight of so many poor fellows in the last stage of thathorrid disease--their teeth fallen out, gums ulcerated, bodies full oftumours and sores--was quite sufficient; and hurrying up from the lowerdeck, as he would have done from a charnel-house, the officer hastenedon shore and made his report.

  In two hours a large boat was sent off with fresh beef and vegetablessufficient for three days' supply for the ship's company, and these wereimmediately distributed among the men. A letter of thanks was returnedby the commodore, stating that his health was so indifferent as toprevent his coming on shore in person to thank the governor, andforwarding a pretended list of the Spaniards on board, in which hementioned some officers and people of distinction, whom he imaginedmight be connected with the family of the governor, whose name andtitles he had received from the messenger sent on board; for the Dutchknew full well the majority of the noble Spanish families--indeed,alliances had continually taken place between them, previous to theirassertion of their independence. The commodore concluded his letter byexpressing a hope that, in a day or two, he should be able to pay hisrespects, and make arrangements for the landing of the sick, as he wasanxious to proceed on his voyage of discovery.

  On the third day, a fresh supply of provisions was sent on board, and sosoon as they were received the commodore, in an English uniform went onshore and called upon the governor, gave a long detail of the sufferingsof the people he had rescued, and agreed that they should be sent onshore in two days, as they would by that time be well enough to bemoved. After many compliments, he went on board, the governor havingstated his intention to return his visit on the following day, if theweather were not too rough. Fortunately, the weather was rough for thenext two days, and it was not until the third that the governor made hisappearance. This was precisely what the commodore wished.

  There is no disease, perhaps, so dreadful or so rapid in its effectsupon the human frame, and at the same time so instantaneously checked,as the scurvy, if the remedy can be procured. A few days weresufficient to restore those, who were not able to turn in theirhammocks, to their former vigour. In the course of the six days nearlyall the crew of the Dort were convalescent, and able to go on deck; butstill they were not cured. The commodore waited for the arrival of thegovernor, received him with all due honours, and then, so soon as he wasin the cabin, told him very politely that he and all his officers withhim were prisoners. That the vessel was a Dutch man-of-war, and that itwas his own people, and not Spaniards, who had been dying of the scurvy.He consoled him, however, by pointing out that he had thought it
preferable to obtain provisions by this _ruse_, than to sacrifice liveson both sides by taking them by force, and that his Excellency'scaptivity would endure no longer than until he had received on board asufficient number of live bullocks and fresh vegetables to insure therecovery of the ship's company; and, in the mean time, not the leastinsult would be offered to him. Whereupon the Spanish governor firstlooked at the commodore and then at the file of armed men at thecabin-door, and then to his distance from the town; and then called tomind the possibility of his being taken out to sea. Weighing all thesepoints in his mind, and the very moderate ransom demanded (for bullockswere not worth a dollar a piece in that country), he resolved, as hecould not help himself, to comply with the commodore's terms. He calledfor pen and ink, and wrote an order to send on board immediately allthat was demanded. Before sunset the bullocks and vegetables werebrought off, and, so soon as they were alongside, the commodore, withmany bows and many thanks, escorted the governor to the gangway,complimenting him with a salvo of great guns, as he had done before, onhis arrival. The people on shore thought that his Excellency had paid along visit, but, as he did not like to acknowledge that he had beendeceived, nothing was said about it, at least in his hearing, althoughthe facts were soon well known. As soon as the boats were cleared, thecommodore weighed anchor and made sail well satisfied with havingpreserved his ship's company and as the Falkland Islands, in case ofparting company, had been named as the rendezvous, he steered for them.In a fortnight he arrived, and found that his admiral was not yet there.His crew were now all recovered, and his fresh beef was not yetexpended, when he perceived the admiral and the three other vessels inthe offing.

  It appeared that so soon as the Dort had parted company, the admiral hadimmediately acted upon the advice that the commodore had given him, andhad run for the coast. Not being so fortunate in a _ruse_ as his secondin command, he had landed an armed force from the four vessels, and hadsucceeded in obtaining several head of cattle, at the expense of anequal number of men killed and wounded. But at the same time they hadcollected a large quantity of vegetables of one sort or another, whichthey had carried on board and distributed with great success to thesick, who were gradually recovering.

  Immediately that the admiral had anchored, he made the signal for thecommodore to repair on board, and taxed him with disobedience of ordersin having left the fleet. The commodore did not deny that he had sodone, but excused himself upon the plea of necessity, offering to laythe whole matter before the Court of Directors so soon as they returned;but the admiral was vested with most extensive powers, not only of thetrial, but the _condemnation_ and punishment of any person guilty ofmutiny and insubordination in his fleet. In reply, he told thecommodore that he was a prisoner, and to prove it, he confined him inirons under the half-deck.

  A signal was then made for all the captains: they went on board, and ofcourse Philip was of the number. On their arrival, the admiral held asummary court-martial, proving to them by his instructions that he wasso warranted to do. The result of the court-martial could be but one--condemnation for a breach of discipline, to which Philip was obligedreluctantly to sign his name. The admiral then gave Philip theappointment of second in command, and the commodore's pendant, much tothe annoyance of the captains commanding the other vessels; but in thisthe admiral proved his judgment, as there was no one of them so fit forthe task as Philip. Having so done, he dismissed them. Philip wouldhave spoken to the late commodore, but the sentry opposed it, as againsthis orders; and with a friendly nod, Philip was obliged to leave himwithout the desired communication.

  The fleet remained three weeks at the Falkland Islands, to recruit theships' companies. Although there was no fresh beef, there was plenty ofscurvy-grass and penguins. These birds were in myriads on some parts ofthe island, which, from the propinquity of their nests, built of mud,went by the name of _towns_. There they sat close together (the wholearea which they covered being bare of grass) hatching their eggs andrearing their young. The men had but to select as many eggs and birdsas they pleased and so numerous were they, that when they had suppliedthemselves, there was no apparent diminution of the numbers. This food,although in a short time not very palatable to the seamen, had theeffect of restoring them to health, and before the fleet sailed, therewas not a man who was afflicted with the scurvy. In the mean time thecommodore remained in irons, and many were the conjectures concerninghis ultimate fate. The power of life and death was known to be in theadmiral's hands, but no one thought that such power would be exerted upon a delinquent of so high a grade. The other captains kept aloof fromPhilip, and he knew little of what was the general idea. Occasionallywhen on board of the admiral's ship, he ventured to bring up thequestion, but was immediately silenced; and feeling that he might injurethe late commodore (for whom he had a regard), he would risk nothing byimportunity; and the fleet sailed for the Straits of Magellan withoutanybody being aware of what might be the result of the court-martial.

  It was about a fortnight after they had left the Falkland Islands, thatthey entered the Straits. At first they had a leading wind whichcarried them half through, but this did not last, and they then had tocontend not only against the wind, but against the current, and theydaily lost ground. The crews of the ships also began to sicken fromfatigue and cold. Whether the admiral had before made up his mind, orwhether irritated by his fruitless endeavours to continue his voyage, itis impossible to say; but after three weeks' useless struggle againstthe wind and currents, he hove to and ordered the captains on board,when he proposed that the prisoner should receive his punishment--andthat punishment was--_to be deserted_; that is, to be sent on shore witha day's food, where there was no means of obtaining support, so as todie miserably of hunger. This was a punishment frequently resorted toby the Dutch at that period, as will be seen by reading an account oftheir voyages; but at the same time seldom, if ever, awarded to one ofso high a rank as that of commodore.

  Philip immediately protested against it, and so did Krantz, althoughthey were both aware, that by so doing, they would make the admiraltheir enemy; but the other captains, who viewed both of them with ajealous eye, and considered them as interlopers and interfering withtheir advancement, sided with the admiral. Notwithstanding thismajority, Philip thought it his duty to expostulate.

  "You know well, admiral," said he, "that I joined in his condemnationfor a breach of discipline: but at the same time there was much inextenuation. He committed a breach of discipline to save his ship'scompany, but not an error in judgment, as you yourself proved, by takingthe same measure to save your own men. Do not, therefore, visit anoffence of so doubtful a nature with such cruelty. Let the Companydecide the point when you send him home, which you can do so soon as youarrive in India. He is sufficiently punished by losing his command: todo what you propose will be ascribed to feelings of revenge more than tothose of justice. What success can we deserve if we commit an act ofsuch cruelty; and how can we expect a merciful Providence to protect usfrom the winds and waves, when we are thus barbarous towards eachother?"

  Philip's arguments were of no avail. The admiral ordered him to returnon board his ship, and had he been able to find an excuse, he would havedeprived him of his command. This he could not well do; but Philip wasaware that the admiral was now his inveterate enemy. The commodore wastaken out of irons and brought into the cabin, and his sentence was madeknown to him.

  "Be it so, admiral," replied Avenhorn; "for to attempt to turn you fromyour purpose, I know would be unavailing. I am not punished fordisobedience of orders, but for having, by my disobedience, pointed outto you your duty--a duty which you were forced to perform afterwards bynecessity. Then be it so; let me perish on these black rocks, as Ishall, and my bones be whitened by the chilly blasts which howl overtheir desolation. But mark me, cruel and vindictive man! I shall notbe the only one whose bones will bleach there. I prophesy that manyothers will share my fate, and even you, admiral, _may_ be of thenumber,--if I mistake not, w
e shall lie side by side."

  The admiral made no reply, but gave a sign for the prisoner to beremoved. He then had a conference with the captains of the threesmaller vessels; and, as they had been all along retarded by the heaviersailing of his own ship, and the Dort commanded by Philip, he decidedthat they should part company, and proceed on as fast as they could tothe Indies--sending on board of the two larger vessels all theprovisions they could spare, as they already began to run short.

  Philip had left the cabin with Krantz after the prisoner had beenremoved. He then wrote a few lines upon a slip of paper--"Do not leavethe beach when you are put on shore, until the vessels are out ofsight;" and requesting Krantz to find an opportunity to deliver this tothe commodore, he returned on board of his own ship.

  When the crew of the Dort heard of the punishment about to be inflictedupon their old commander, they were much excited. They felt that he hadsacrificed himself to save them, and they murmured much at the crueltyof the admiral.

  About an hour after Philip's return to his ship, the prisons was sent onshore and landed on the desolate and rocky coast, with a supply ofprovisions for two days. Not a single article of extra clothing, or themeans of striking a light, was permitted him. When the boat's keelgrazed the beach, ha was ordered out. The boat shoved off, and the menwere not permitted even to bid him farewell.

  The fleet, as Philip had expected, remained hove to shifting theprovisions, and it was not till after dark that everything was arranged.This opportunity was not lost. Philip was aware that it would beconsidered a breach of discipline, but to that he was indifferent;neither did he think it likely that it would come to the ears of theadmiral, as the crew of the Dort were partial both to the commodore andto him. He had desired a seaman whom he could trust, to put into one ofthe boats a couple of muskets, and a quantity of ammunition, severalblankets, and various other articles, besides provisions for two orthree months for one person; and as soon as it was dark the men pulledon shore with the boat, found the commodore on the beach waiting forthem, and supplied him with all these necessaries. They then rejoinedtheir ship, without the admiral's having the least suspicion of what hadbeen done, and shortly after the fleet made sail on a wind, with theirheads off shore. The next morning, the three smaller vessels partedcompany, and by sunset had gained many miles to windward, after whichthey were not again seen.

  The admiral had sent for Philip to give him his instructions, which werevery severe, and evidently framed so as to be able to afford himhereafter some excuse for depriving him of his command. Among others,his orders were, as the Dort drew much less water than the admiral'sship, to sail ahead of him during the night, that if they approached toonear the land as they beat across the Channel, timely notice might begiven to the admiral, if in too shallow water. This responsibility wasthe occasion of Philip's being always on deck when they approached theland on either side of the Straits. It was the second night after thefleet had separated that Philip had been summoned on deck as they werenearing the land of Terra del Fuego: he was watching the man in thechains heaving the head, when the officer of the watch reported to himthat the admiral's ship was ahead of them instead of astern. Philipmade inquiry as to when he passed, but could not discover; he wentforward, and saw the admiral's ship with her poop-light, which, when theadmiral was astern, was not visible. "What can be the admiral's reasonfor this?" thought Philip; "has he run ahead for purpose to make acharge against me of neglect of duty? It must be so. Well, let him doas he pleases; he must wait now till we arrive in India, for I shall notallow him to _desert_ me; and with the Company, I have as much, and Irather think, as a large proprietor, more interest than he has. Well ashe has thought proper to go ahead, I have nothing to do but to follow.`You may come out of the chains there.'"

  Philip went forward: they were now, as he imagined, very near to theland, but the night was dark and they could not distinguish it. Forhalf an hour they continued their course, much to Philip's surprise, forhe now thought he could make out the loom of the land, dark as it was.His eyes were constantly fixed upon the ship ahead, expecting everyminute that she would go about; but no, she continued her course, andPhilip followed with his own vessel.

  "We are very close to the land, sir," observed Vander Hagen, thelieutenant, who was the officer of the watch.

  "So it appears to me: but the admiral is closer and draws much morewater than we do," replied Philip.

  "I think I see the rocks on the beam to leeward, sir."

  "I believe you are right," replied Philip: "I cannot understand this.Ready about, and get a gun ready--they must suppose us to be ahead ofthem, depend up on it."

  Hardly had Philip given the order, when the vessel struck heavily on therocks. Philip hastened aft; he found that the rudder had beenunshipped, and the vessel was immovably fixed. His thoughts thenreverted to the admiral. "Was he on shore?" He ran forward, and theadmiral was still sailing on with his poop-light about two cables'length ahead of him.

  "Fire the gun, there," cried Philip, perplexed beyond measure.

  The gun was fired, and immediately followed up by the flash and reportof another gun close astern of them. Philip looked with astonishmentover the quarter, and perceived the admiral's ship close astern to him,and evidently on shore as well as his own.

  "Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Philip, rushing forward, "what can thisbe?" He beheld the other vessel, with her light ahead, still sailing onand leaving them. The day was now dawning, and there was sufficientlight to make out the land. The Dort was on shore not fifty yards fromthe beach, and surrounded by the high and barren rocks; yet the vesselahead was apparently sailing on over the land. The seamen crowded onthe forecastle, watching this strange phenomenon; at last it vanishedfrom their sight.

  "That's the Flying Dutchman, by all that's holy!" cried one of theseamen, jumping off the gun.

  Hardly had the man uttered these words when the vessel disappeared.

  Philip felt convinced that it was so, and he walked away aft in a veryperturbed state. It must have been his father's fatal ship which haddecoyed them to probable destruction. He hardly knew how to act. Theadmiral's wrath he did not wish, just at that moment, to encounter. Hesent for the officer of the watch, and having desired him to select acrew for the boat, out of those men who had been on deck, and couldsubstantiate his assertions, ordered him to go on board of the admiral,and state what had happened.

  As soon as the boat had shoved off, Philip turned his attention to thestate of his own vessel. The daylight had increased and Philipperceived that they were surrounded by rocks, and had run on shorebetween two reefs, which extended half a mile from the mainland. Hesounded round his vessel, and discovered that she was fixed from forwardto aft, and that without lightening her, there was no chance of gettingher off. He then turned to where the admiral's ship lay aground andfound that, to all appearance, she was in even a worse plight, as therocks to leeward of her were above the water, and she was much moreexposed, should bad weather come on. Never, perhaps, was there a scenemore cheerless and appalling: a dark wintry sea--a sky loaded with heavyclouds--the wind cold and piercing--the whole line of the coast one massof barren rocks, without the slightest appearance of vegetation; theinland part of the country presented an equally sombre appearance, andthe higher points were capped with snow, although it was not yet thewinter season. Sweeping the coast with his eye, Philip perceived, notfour miles to leeward of them (so little progress had they made), thespot where they had _deserted_ the commodore.

  "Surely this has been a judgment on him for his cruelty," thoughtPhilip, "and the prophecy of poor Avenhorn will come true--more bonesthan his will bleach on those rocks." Philip, turned round again towhere the admiral's ship was on shore, and started back, as he beheld asight even more dreadful than all that he had viewed--the body of VanderHagen, the officer sent on board of the admiral hanging at themain-yard-arm. "My God! is it possible?" exclaimed Philip, stampingwith sorrow and indignation.

  His
boat was returning on board, and Philip awaited it with impatience.The men hastened up the side, and breathlessly informed Philip that theadmiral, as soon as he had heard the lieutenant's report, and hisacknowledgment that he was officer of the watch, had ordered him to behung, and that he had sent them back with a summons for him to repair onboard immediately, and that they had seen another rope preparing at theother yardarm.

  "But not for you, sir," cried the men--"that shall never be--you shallnot go on board--and we will defend you with our lives."

  The whole ship's company joined in this resolution, and expressed theirdetermination to resist the admiral. Philip thanked them kindly--statedhis intention of not going on board, and requested that they wouldremain quiet, until it was ascertained what steps the admiral mighttake. He then went down to his cabin, to reflect upon what plan heshould proceed. As he looked out of the stern windows, and perceivedthe body of the young man still swinging in the wind, he almost wishedthat he was in his place, for then there would be an end to his waywardfate: but he thought of Amine, and felt, that for her he wished to live.That the Phantom Ship should have decoyed him to destruction was also asource of much painful feeling, and Philip meditated, with his handspressed to his temples. "It is my destiny," thought he at last, "andthe will of Heaven must be done: we could not have been so deceived ifHeaven had not permitted it." And then his thoughts reverted to hispresent situation.

  That the admiral had exceeded his powers in taking the life of theofficer was undeniable, as although his instructions gave him power oflife and death, still it was only to be decided by the sentence of thecourt-martial held by the captains commanding the vessels of the fleet;he therefore felt himself justified in resistance. But Philip wastroubled with the idea that such resistance might lead to muchbloodshed; and he was still debating how to act, when they reported tohim that there was a boat coming from the admiral's ship. Philip wentupon deck to receive the officer, who stated that it was the admiral'sorder that he should immediately come on board, and that he mustconsider himself now under arrest and deliver up his sword.

  "No! no!" exclaimed the ship's company of the Dort. "He shall not go onboard. We will stand by our captain to the last."

  "Silence, men! silence!" cried Philip. "You must be aware, sir," saidhe to the officer, "that in the cruel punishment of that innocent youngman the admiral has exceeded his powers: and, much as I regret to seeany symptoms of mutiny and insubordination, it must be remembered, thatif those in command disobey the orders they have received, by exceedingthem, they not only set the example, but give an excuse for those whootherwise would be bound to obey them, to do the same. Tell the admiralthat his murder of that innocent man has determined me no longer toconsider myself under his authority, and that I will hold myself as wellas him answerable to the Company whom we serve, for our conduct. I donot intend to go on board and put myself in his power, that he mightgratify his resentment by my ignominious death. It is a duty that I owethese men under my command to preserve my life, that I may, if possible,preserve theirs in this strait; and you may also add, that a littlereflection must point out to him that this is no time for us to warwith, but to assist each other with all our energies. We are here,shipwrecked on a barren coast, with provisions insufficient for anylengthened stay, no prospect of succour, and little of escape. As thecommodore truly prophesied, many more are likely to perish as well ashim--and even the admiral himself may be of the number. I shall waithis answer; if he choose to lay aside all animosity, and refer ourconduct to a higher tribunal, I am willing to join with him in renderingthat assistance to each other which our situation requires--if not, youmust perceive, and of course will tell him, that I have those with mewho will defend me against any attempt at force. You have my answer,sir, and may return on board."

  The officer went to the gangway, but found that none of his crew, exceptthe bowman were in the boat; they had gone up to gain from the men ofthe Dort the true history of what they but imperfectly heard: and beforethey were summoned to return, had received full intelligence. Theycoincided with the seamen of the Dort, that the appearance of thePhantom Ship, which had occasioned their present disaster, was ajudgment upon the admiral, for his conduct in having so cruelly_deserted_ the poor commodore.

  Upon the return of the officer with Philip's answer, the rage of theadmiral was beyond all bounds. He ordered the guns aft which would bearupon the Dort to be double-shotted, and fired into her; but Krantzpointed out to him that they could not bring more guns to bear upon theDort, in their present situation, than the Dort could bring to bear uponthem; that their superior force was thus neutralised, and that noadvantage could result from taking such a step. The admiral immediatelyput Krantz under arrest, and proceeded to put into execution his insaneintentions. In this he was, however, prevented by the seamen of theLion, who neither wished to fire upon their consort, or to be fired atin return. The report of the boat's crew had been circulated throughthe ship, and the men felt too much ill-will against the admiral, anperceived at the same time the extreme difficulty of their situation, towish to make it worse. They did not proceed to open mutiny, but theywent down below, and when the officers ordered them up, they refused togo upon deck; and the officers, who were equally disgusted with theadmiral's conduct, merely informed him of the state of the ship'scompany, without naming individuals so as to excite his resentmentagainst any one in particular. Such was the state of affairs when thesun went down. Nothing had been done on board the admiral's ship, forKrantz was under arrest, and the admiral had retired in a state of furyto his cabin.

  In the mean time, Philip and the ship's company had not been idle--theyhad laid an anchor out astern, and hove taut: they had started all thewater, and were pumping it out, when a boat pulled alongside, and Krantzmade his appearance on deck.

  "Captain Vanderdecken, I have come to put myself under your orders, ifyou will receive me--if not, render me your protection; for, as sure asfate, I should have been hanged to-morrow morning, if I had remained inmy own ship. The men in the boat have come with the same intention--that of joining you, if you will permit them."

  Although Philip would have wished it had been otherwise, he could notwell refuse to receive Krantz, under the circumstances of the case. Hewas very partial to him, and to save his life, which certainly was indanger, he would have done much more. He desired that the boat's crewshould return; but when Krantz had stated to him what had occurred onboard the Lion, and the crew earnestly begged him not to send them backto almost certain death, which their having effected the escape ofKrantz would have assured, Philip reluctantly allowed them to remain.

  The night was tempestuous, but the wind being now off shore, the waterwas not rough. The crew of the Dort, under the directions of Philip andKrantz, succeeded in lightening the vessel so much during the night,that the next morning they were able to haul her off, and found that herbottom had received no serious injury. It was fortunate for them thatthey had not discontinued their exertions, for the wind shifted a fewhours before sunrise, and by the time that they had shipped theirrudder, it came on to blow fresh down the Straits, the wind beingaccompanied with a heavy swell.

  The admiral's ship still lay aground, and apparently no exertions wereused to get her off. Philip was much puzzled how to act: leave the crewof the Lion he could not; nor indeed could he refuse, or did he wish torefuse the admiral, if he proposed coming on board; but he now made uphis mind that it should only be as a passenger, and that he wouldhimself retain the command. At present he contented himself withdropping his anchor outside, clear of the reef, where he was shelteredby a bluff cape, under which the water was smooth, about a mile distantfrom where the admiral's ship lay on shore; and he employed his crew inreplenishing his water-casks from a rivulet close to where the ship wasanchored. He waited to see if the other vessel got off, being convincedthat if she did not, some communication must soon take place. As soonas the water was complete, he sent one of his boats to the place wherethe com
modore had been landed, having resolved to take him on board, ifthey could find him; but the boat returned without having seen anythingof him, although the men had clambered over the hills to a considerabledistance.

  On the second morning after Philip had hauled his vessel off, theyobserved that the boats of the admiral's ship were passing and repassingfrom the shore, landing her stores and provisions; and the next day,from the tents pitched on shore, it was evident that she was abandoned,although the boats were still employed in taking articles out of her.That night it blew fresh, and the sea was heavy; the next morning hermasts were gone, and she turned on her broadside: she was evidently awreck, and Philip now consulted with Krantz how to act. To leave thecrew of the Lion on shore was impossible: they must all perish when thewinter set in upon such a desolate coast. On the whole, it wasconsidered advisable that the first communication should come from theother party, and Philip resolved to remain quietly at anchor.

  It was very plain that there was no longer any subordination among thecrew of the Lion, who were to be seen, in the day time, climbing overthe rocks in every direction, and at night, when their large fires werelighted, carousing and drinking. This waste of provisions was a subjectof much vexation to Philip. He had not more than sufficient for his owncrew, and he took it for granted that, so soon as what they had taken onshore should be expended, the crew of the Lion would ask to be receivedon board of the Dort.

  For more than a week did affairs continue in this state when one morninga boat was seen pulling towards the ship and in the stern-sheets Philiprecognised the officer who had been sent on board to put him underarrest. When the officer came on deck he took off his hat to Philip.

  "You do, then, acknowledge me as in command," observed Philip.

  "Yes, sir, most certainly; you were second in command, but now you arefirst--for the admiral is dead."

  "Dead!" exclaimed Philip--"and how?"

  "He was found dead on the beach, under a high cliff, and the body of thecommodore was in his arms; indeed, they were both grappled together. Itis supposed, that in his walk up to the top of the hill, which he usedto take every day, to see if any vessels might be in the Straits, hefell in with the commodore--that they had come to contention, and hadboth fallen over the precipice together. No one saw the meeting, butthey must have fallen over the rocks, as the bodies are dreadfullymangled."

  On inquiry, Philip ascertained that all chance of saving the Lion hadbeen lost after the second night, when she had beat in her larboardstreak, and six feet water in the hold; that the crew had been veryinsubordinate, and had consumed almost all the spirits; and that notonly all the sick had already perished, but also many others who hadeither fallen over the rocks, when they were intoxicated, or had beenfound dead in the morning from their exposure during the night.

  "Then the poor commodore's prophecy has been fulfilled!" observed Philipto Krantz. "Many others, and even the admiral himself, have perishedwith him--peace be with them! And now let us get away from thishorrible place as soon as possible."

  Philip then gave orders to the officer to collect his men, and theprovisions that remained, for immediate embarkation. Krantz followedsoon after with all the boats, and before night everything was on board.The bodies of the admiral and commodore were buried where they lay, andthe next morning the Dort was under weigh, and with a slanting wind waslaying a fair course through the Straits.