The Phantom Ship

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

  Both Amine and Father Mathias started, and drew back with surprise, atthis unexpected meeting. Amine was the first to extend her hand; shehad almost forgotten at the moment how they had parted, in the pleasureshe experienced in meeting with a well-known face.

  Father Mathias coldly took her hand, and laying his own upon her head,said; "May God bless thee, and forgive thee, my daughter, as I have longdone." Then the recollection of what had passed rushed into Amine'smind, and she coloured deeply.

  Had Father Mathias forgiven her? The event would show; but this iscertain, he now treated her as an old friend, listened with interest toher history of the wreck, and agreed with her upon the propriety of heraccompanying him to Goa.

  In a few days the vessel sailed, and Amine quitted the factory and itsenamoured commandant. They ran through the Archipelago in safety, andwere crossing the mouth of the Bay of Bengal, without having had anyinterruption to fine weather.

  Father Mathias had returned to Lisbon when he quitted Ternicore, and,tired of idleness, had again volunteered to proceed as a missionary toIndia. He had arrived at Formosa, and, shortly after his arrival, hadreceived directions from his superior to return, on important business,to Goa; and thus it was that he fell in with Amine at Tidore.

  It would be difficult to analyse the feelings of Father Mathias towardsAmine--they varied so often. At one moment he would call to mind thekindness shown to him by her and Philip, the regard he had for thehusband, and the many good qualities which he acknowledged that shepossessed; and _now_ he would recollect the disgrace, the unmeriteddisgrace, he had suffered through her means and he would then canvasswhether she really did believe him an intruder in her chamber for othermotives than those which actuated him or whether she had taken advantageof his indiscretion. These accounts were nearly balanced in his mind:he could have forgiven all if he had thought that Amine was a sincereconvert to the Church; but his strong conviction that she was not onlyan unbeliever, but that she practised forbidden arts, turned the scaleagainst her. He watched her narrowly and when in her conversation sheshowed any religious feeling, his heart warmed towards her: but when, onthe contrary, any words escaped her lips which seemed to show that shethought lightly of his creed, then the full tide of indignation andvengeance poured into his bosom.

  It was in crossing the Bay of Bengal, to pass round the southern cape ofCeylon, that they first met with bad weather; and when the stormincreased, the superstitious seamen lighted candles before the smallimage of the saint which was shrined on deck. Amine observed it, andsmiled with scorn; and as she did so, almost unwittingly, she perceivedthat the eye of Father Mathias was earnestly fixed upon her.

  "The Papooses I have just left do no worse than worship their idols, andare termed idolaters," muttered Amine. "What, then, are theseChristians?"

  "Would you not be better below?" said Father Mathias, coming over toAmine. "This is no time for women to be on deck; they would be betteremployed in offering up prayers for safety."

  "Nay, father, I can pray better here. I like this conflict of theelements; and as I view, I bow down in admiration of the Deity who rulesthe storm--who sends the winds forth in their wrath, or soothes theminto peace."

  "It is well said, my child," replied Father Mathias; "but the Almightyis not only to be worshipped in his works, but in the closet, withmeditation, self-examination and faith. Hast thou followed up theprecepts which thou hast been taught?--hast thou reverenced the sublimemysteries which have been unfolded to thee?"

  "I have done my best, father," replied Amine, turning away her head, andwatching the rolling wave.

  "Hast thou called upon the Holy Virgin, and upon the saints--thoseintercessors for mortals erring like thyself?"

  Amine made no answer; she did not wish to irritate the priest, neitherwould she tell an untruth.

  "Answer me, child," continued the priest with severity.

  "Father," replied Amine, "I have appealed to God alone--the God of theChristians--the God of the whole universe!"

  "Who believes not everything, believes nothing, young woman. I thoughtas much! I saw thee smile with scorn just now. Why didst thou smile?"

  "At my own thoughts, good father."

  "Say rather at the true faith shown by others."

  Amine made no answer.

  "Thou art still an unbeliever and a heretic. Beware, young woman!--beware!"

  "Beware of what, good father? Why should I beware? Are there notmillions in these climes more unbelieving and more heretic, perhaps,than I? How many have you converted to your faith? What trouble, whattoil, what dangers have you not undergone to propagate that creed; andwhy do you succeed so ill? Shall I tell you, father? It is because thepeople have already had a creed of their own--a creed taught to themfrom their infancy, and acknowledged by all who live about them. Am Inot in the same position? I was brought up in another creed; and canyou expect that that can be dismissed, and the prejudices of early yearsat once eradicated? I have thought much of what you have told me--havefelt that much is true--that the tenets of your creed are godlike: isnot that much? and yet you are not content. You would have blindacknowledgment, blind obedience: I were then an unworthy convert. Weshall soon be in port: then teach me, and convince me, if you will. Iam ready to examine and confess, but on conviction only. Have patience,good father, and the time may come when I _may_ feel what now I _donot_--that yon bit of painted wood is a thing to bow down to and adore."

  Notwithstanding this taunt at the close of this speech, there was somuch truth in the observations of Amine, that Father Mathias felt theirpower. As the wife of a Catholic he had been accustomed to view Amineas one who had backslided from the Church of Rome--not as one who hadbeen brought up in another creed. He now recalled to mind that she hadnever yet been received into the Church, for Father Seysen had notconsidered her as in a proper state to be admitted, and had deferred herbaptism until he was satisfied of her full belief.

  "You speak boldly; but you speak as you feel, my child," replied FatherMathias, after a pause. "We will, when we arrive at Goa, talk overthese things, and, with the blessing of God, the new faith shall be mademanifest to you."

  "So be it," replied Amine.

  Little did the priest imagine that Amine's thoughts were at that momentupon a dream she had had at New Guinea, in which her mother appeared,and revealed to her her magic arts, and that Amine was longing to arriveat Goa that she might practise them.

  Every hour the gale increased, and the vessel laboured and leaked. ThePortuguese sailors were frightened, and invoked their saints. FatherMathias and the other passengers gave themselves up for lost, for thepumps could not keep the vessel free; and their cheeks blanched as thewaves washed furiously over the vessel: they prayed and trembled.Father Mathias gave them absolution. Some cried like children, sometore their hair, some cursed, and cursed the saints they had but the daybefore invoked. But Amine stood unmoved; and as she heard them curse,she smiled in scorn.

  "My child," said Father Mathias, checking his tremulous voice, that hemight not appear agitated before one whom he saw so calm and unmovedamidst the roaring of the elements--"my child, let not this hour ofperil pass away. Before thou art summoned, let me receive thee into thebosom of our Church--give thee pardon for thy sins, and certainty ofbliss hereafter."

  "Good father, Amine is not to be frightened into belief, even if shefeared the storm," replied she; "nor will she credit your power toforgive her sins merely because she says in fear that which in her calmreason she might reject. If ever fear could have subjected me, it waswhen I was alone upon the raft--that was, indeed a trial of my strengthof mind, the bare recollection of which is, at this moment, moredreadful than the storm now raging, and the death which may await us.There is a God on high in whose mercy I trust--in whose love I confide--to whose will I bow. Let him do his will."

  "Die not, my child, in unbelief."

  "Father," replied Amine, pointing to the pas
sengers and seamen, who wereon the deck crying and wailing, "these are Christians--these men havebeen promised by you, but now, the inheritance of perfect bliss. Whatis their faith, that it does not give them strength to die like men?Why is it that a woman quails not, while they lie grovelling on thedeck?"

  "Life is sweet, my child--they leave their wives, their children, andthey dread hereafter. Who is prepared to die?"

  "I am," replied Amine. "I have no husband--at least, I fear I have nohusband. For me life has no sweets; yet, one little hope remains--astraw to the sinking wretch. I fear not death, for I have nought tolive for. Were Philip here, why, then indeed--but he is gone before me,and now, to follow him is all I ask."

  "He died in the faith, my child--if you would meet him, do the same."

  "He never died like these," replied Amine, looking with scorn at thepassengers.

  "Perhaps he lived not as they have lived," replied Father Mathias. "Agood man dies in peace, and hath no fear."

  "So die the good men of all creeds, father," replied Amine; "and in allcreeds death is equally terrible to the wicked."

  "I will pray for thee, my child," said Father Mathias, sinking on hisknees.

  "Many thanks--thy prayers will be heard, even though offered for onelike me," replied Amine, who, clinging to the man-ropes, made her way upto the ladder, and gained the deck.

  "Lost! signora, lost!" exclaimed the captain, wringing his hands as hecrouched under the bulwark.

  "No!" replied Amine, who had gained the weather side, and held on by arope; "not lost this time."

  "How say you, signora?" replied the captain, looking with admiration atAmine's calm and composed countenance. "How say you, signora?"

  "Something tells me, good captain, that you will not be lost if youexert yourselves--something tells it to me here," and Amine laid herhand to her heart. Amine had a conviction that the vessel would not belost, for it had not escaped her observation that the storm was lessviolent, although, in their terror, this had been unnoticed by thesailors.

  The coolness of Amine, her beauty, perhaps, the unusual sight of a womanso young, calm and confiding, when all others were in despair, had itsdue effect upon the captain and sea men. Supposing her to be aCatholic, they imagined that she had had some warrant for her assertion,for credulity and superstition are close friends. They looked uponAmine with admiration and respect, recovered their energies, and appliedto their duties. The pumps were again worked; the storm abated duringthe night, and the vessel was, as Amine had predicted, saved.

  The crew and passengers looked upon her almost as a saint, and talked ofher to Father Mathias, who was sadly perplexed. The courage which shehad displayed was extraordinary; even when he trembled, she showed nosign of fear. He made no reply, but communed with his own mind, and theresult was unfavourable to Amine. What had given her such coolness?What had given her the spirit of prophecy? Not the God of theChristians, for she was no believer. Who then? and Father Mathiasthought of her chamber at Terneuse, and shook his head.