"You have acted hastily," replied Father Seysen, "to visit a woman's
chamber at such an hour of the night." "I had my suspicions, good Father Seysen." "And she will have hers. She is young and beautiful." "Now, by the Blessed Virgin--"

"I absolve you, good Mathias," replied Father Seysen; "but still, if
known, it would occasion much scandal to our church." And known it soon was; for the woman who had been summoned by Amine
did not fail to mention the circumstance; and Father Mathias found
himself everywhere so coldly received, and, besides, so ill at ease
with himself, that he very soon afterwards quitted the country, and
returned to Lisbon; angry with himself for his imprudence, but still
more angry with Amine for her unjust suspicions. Chapter XXI


The cargo of the _Dort_ was soon ready, and Philip sailed and arrived
at Amsterdam without any further adventure. That he reached his
cottage, and was received with delight by Amine, need hardly be said. She had been expecting him; for the two ships of the squadron, which
had sailed on his arrival at Batavia, and which had charge of his
despatches, had, of course, carried letters to her from Philip, the
first letters she had ever received from him during his voyages. Six
weeks after the letters Philip himself made his appearance, and Amine
was happy. The directors were, of course, highly satisfied with
Philip's conduct, and he was appointed to the command of a large armed
ship, which was to proceed to India in the spring, and one-third of
which, according to agreement, was purchased by Philip out of the
funds which he had in the hands of the Company. He had now five months
of quiet and repose to pass away, previous to his once more trusting
to the elements; and this time, as it was agreed, he had to make
arrangements on board for the reception of Amine. Amine narrated to Philip what had occurred between her and the priest
Mathias, and by what means she had rid herself of his unwished-for
surveillance. "And were you practising your mother's arts, Amine?" "Nay, not practising them, for I could not recall them, but I was
trying to recover them." "Why so, Amine? this must not be. It is, as the good father said,
'unholy.' Promise me you will abandon them, now and for ever." "If that act be unholy, Philip, so is your mission. You would deal
and co-operate with the spirits of another world--I would do no more. Abandon your terrific mission--abandon your seeking after disembodied
spirits--stay at home with your Amine, and she will cheerfully comply
with your request." "Mine is an awful summons from the Most High." "Then the Most High permits your communion with those who are not of
this world?" "He does; you know even the priests do not gainsay it, although they
shudder at the very thought." "If then He permits to one, He will to another; nay, aught that I can
do is but with His permission." "Yes, Amine, so does He permit evil to stalk on the earth, but He
countenances it not." "He countenances your seeking after your doomed father, your attempts
to meet him; nay, more, He commands it. If you are thus permitted, why
may not I be? I am your wife, a portion of yourself; and when I am
left over a desolate hearth, while you pursue your course of danger,
may not I appeal also to the immaterial world to give me that
intelligence which will soothe my sorrow, lighten my burden, and
which, at the same time, can hurt no living creature? Did I attempt to
practise these arts for evil purposes, it were just to deny them me,
and wrong to continue them; but I would but follow in the steps of my
husband, and seek as he seeks, with a good intent." "But it is contrary to our faith." "Have the priests declared your mission contrary to their faith? or,
if they have, have they not been convinced to the contrary, and been
awed to silence? But why argue, my dear Philip? Shall I not now be
with you? and while with you I will attempt no more. You have my
promise; but if separated, I will not say, but I shall then require of
the invisible a knowledge of my husband's motions, when in search of
the invisible also." The winter passed rapidly away, for it was passed by Philip in quiet
and happiness; the spring came on, the vessel was to be fitted out,
and Philip and Amine repaired to Amsterdam. The _Utrecht_ was the name of the vessel to which he had been
appointed, a ship of 400 tons, newly launched, and pierced for
twenty-four guns. Two more months passed away, during which Philip
superintended the fitting and loading of the vessel, assisted by his
favourite Krantz, who served in her as first mate. Every convenience
and comfort that Philip could think of was prepared for Amine; and
in the month of May he started, with orders to stop at Gambroon and
Ceylon, run down the Straits of Sumatra, and from thence to force his
way into the China seas, the Company having every reason to expect
from the Portuguese the most determined opposition to the attempt. His
ship's company was numerous, and he had a small detachment of soldiers
on board to assist the supercargo, who carried out many thousand
dollars to make purchases at ports in China, where their goods might
not be appreciated. Every care had been taken in the equipment of the
vessel, which was perhaps the finest, the best manned, and freighted
with the most valuable cargo, which had been sent out by the India
Company. The _Utrecht_ sailed with a flowing sheet, and was soon clear of the
English Channel; the voyage promised to be auspicious, favouring gales
bore them without accident to within a few hundred miles of the Cape
of Good Hope, when, for the first time, they were becalmed. Amine was
delighted: in the evenings she would pace the deck with Philip; then
all was silent, except the splash of the wave as it washed against
the side of the vessel--all was in repose and beauty, as the bright
southern constellations sparkled over their heads. "Whose destinies can be in these stars, which appear not to those who
inhabit the northern regions?" said Amine, as she cast her eyes above,
and watched them in their brightness; "and what does that falling
meteor portend? what causes its rapid descent from heaven?" "Do you, then, put faith in stars, Amine?" "In Araby we do; and why not? They were not spread over the sky to
give light--for what then?" "To beautify the world. They have their uses, too." "Then you agree with me--they have their uses, and the destinies of
men are there concealed. My mother was one of those who could read
them well. Alas! for me they are a sealed book." "Is it not better so, Amine?" "Better!--say better to grovel on this earth with our selfish,
humbled race, wandering in mystery, and awe, and doubt, when we can
communicate with the intelligences above! Does not the soul leap at
her admission to confer with superior powers? Does not the proud heart
bound at the feeling that its owner is one of those more gifted than
the usual race of mortals? Is it not a noble ambition?"