He was, however, spared the cruelty of
deserting her, for a heavy gale came on which dispersed the whole
fleet, and on the second day the good ship _Vrow Katerina_ found
herself alone, labouring heavily in the trough of the sea, leaking so
much as to require hands constantly at the pumps, and drifting before
the gale as fast to leeward almost as she usually sailed. For a
week the gale continued, and each day did her situation become more
alarming. Crowded with troops, encumbered with heavy stores, she
groaned and laboured, while whole seas washed over her, and the men
could hardly stand at the pumps. Philip was active, and exerted
himself to the utmost, encouraging the worn-out men, securing where
aught had given way, and little interfered with by the captain, who
was himself no sailor. "Well," observed the captain to Philip, as they held on by the
belaying-pins, "you'll acknowledge that she is a fine weatherly vessel
in a gale--is she not? Softly, my beauty, softly," continued he,
speaking to the vessel, as she plunged heavily into the waves, and
every timber groaned. "Softly, my dear, softly! How those poor
devils in the other ships must be knocking about now. Heh! Mynheer
Vanderdecken, we have the start of them this time: they must be a
terrible long way down to leeward. Don't you think so?" "I really cannot pretend to say," replied Philip, smiling. "Why, there's not one of them in sight. Yes, by Heavens, there is! Look on our lee beam. I see one now. Well, she must be a capital
sailor at all events: look there, a point abaft the beam. Mercy on me! how stiff she must be to carry such a press of canvas!" Philip had already seen her. It was a large ship on a wind, and on the
same tack as they were. In a gale in which no vessel could carry the
topsails, the _Vrow Katerina_ being under close-reefed foresails and
staysails, the ship seen to leeward was standing under a press of
sail--top-gallant-sail, royals, flying-jib, and every stitch of canvas
which could be set in a light breeze. The waves were running mountains
high, bearing each minute the _Vrow Katerina_ down to the gunwale: and
the ship seen appeared not to be affected by the tumultuous waters,
but sailed steadily and smoothly on an even keel. At once Philip knew
it must be the Phantom Ship, in which his father's doom was being
fulfilled. "Very odd, is it not?" observed Mynheer Barentz. Philip felt such an oppression on his chest that he could not reply. As he held on with one hand, he covered up his eyes with the other. But the seamen had now seen the vessel, and the legend was too well
known. Many of the troops had climbed on deck when the report was
circulated, and all eyes were now fixed upon the supernatural vessel;
when a heavy squall burst over the _Vrow Katerina_, accompanied with
peals of thunder and heavy rain, rendering it so thick that nothing
could be seen. In a quarter of an hour it cleared away, and, when they
looked to leeward, the stranger was no longer in sight. "Merciful Heaven! she must have been upset, and has gone down in the
squall," said Mynheer Barentz. "I thought as much, carrying such a
press of sail. There never was a ship that could carry more than the
_Vrow Katerina_. It was madness on the part of the captain of that
vessel; but I suppose he wished to keep up with us. Heh, Mynheer
Vanderdecken?" Philip did not reply to these remarks, which fully proved the madness
of his captain. He felt that his ship was doomed, and when he thought
of the numbers on board who might be sacrificed, he shuddered. After a
pause, he said--

"Mynheer Barentz, this gale is likely to continue, and the best ship
that ever was built cannot, in my opinion, stand such weather. I
should advise that we bear up, and run back to Table Bay to refit. Depend upon it, we shall find the whole fleet there before us." "Never fear for the good ship, _Vrow Katerina_," replied the captain;
"see what weather she makes of it." "Cursed bad," observed one of the seamen, for the seamen had gathered
near to Philip to hear what his advice might be. "If I had known that
she was such an old, crazy beast, I never would have trusted myself on
board. Mynheer Vanderdecken is right; we must back to Table Bay ere
worse befall us. That ship to leeward has given us warning--she is not
seen for nothing,--ask Mr Vanderdecken, captain; he knows that well,
for he _is_ a sailor." This appeal to Philip made him start; it was, however, made without
any knowledge of Philip's interest in the Phantom Ship. "I must say," replied Philip, "that, whenever I have fallen in with
that vessel, mischief has ever followed." "Vessel! why, what was there in that vessel to frighten you? She
carried too much sail, and she has gone down." "She never goes down," replied one of the seamen. "No! no!" exclaimed many voices; "but we shall, if we do not run
back." "Pooh! nonsense! Mynheer Vanderdecken, what say you?" "I have already stated my opinion," replied Philip, who was anxious,
if possible, to see the ship once more in port, "that the best thing
we can do, is to bear up for Table Bay." "And, captain," continued the old seaman who had just spoken, "we are
all determined that it shall be so, whether you like it or not; so
up with the helm, my hearty, and Mynheer Vanderdecken will trim the
sails." "Why! what is this?" cried Captain Barentz. "A mutiny on board of the
_Vrow Katerina_? Impossible! The _Vrow Katerina_ the best ship, the
fastest in the whole fleet!" "The dullest old rotten tub," cried one of the seamen. "What!" cried the captain, "what do I hear? Mynheer Vanderdecken,
confine that lying rascal for mutiny." "Pooh! nonsense! he's mad," replied the old seaman. "Never mind him;
come, Mynheer Vanderdecken, we will obey you; but the helm must be up
immediately." The captain stormed, but Philip, by acknowledging the superiority
of his vessel, at the same time that he blamed the seamen for their
panic, pointed out to him the necessity of compliance, and Mynheer
Barentz at last consented. The helm was put up, the sails trimmed,
and the _Vrow Katerina_ rolled heavily before the gale. Towards the
evening the weather moderated, and the sky cleared up; both sea and
wind subsided fast; the leaking decreased, and Philip was in hopes
that in a day or two they would arrive safely in the Bay. As they steered their course, so did the wind gradually decrease,
until, at last, it fell calm; nothing remained of the tempest but a
long heavy swell which set to the westward, and before which the _Vrow
Katerina_ was gradually drifting. This was a respite to the worn-out
seamen, and also to the troops and passengers, who had been cooped
below or drenched on the main-deck. The upper deck was crowded; mothers basked in the warm sun with their
children in their arms; the rigging was filled with the wet clothes,
which were hung up to dry on every part of the shrouds; and the seamen
were busily employed in repairing the injuries of the gale.