That promise I shall still exact, and I now tell you what
I had intended 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 or danger; but to be left alone for so long, brooding over
my painful thoughts, devoured by suspense, impatient, restless, and
incapable of applying 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 your promise, Philip. As captain, you have the means
of receiving your wife on board. I am bitterly disappointed in being
left this time; do, therefore, to a certain degree, console me by
promising that I shall sail with you next voyage, if Heaven permit
your return." "I promise it, Amine, since you are so earnest. I can refuse you
nothing; but I have a foreboding that yours and my happiness will be
wrecked 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, some
little 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 to
direct our own destinies." "Ay, so would Father Seysen fain have made me believe; but what he
said in support of his assertion was to me incomprehensible. And yet
he said that it was a part of the Catholic faith. It may be so--I am
unable to understand 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
but on the outset of my journey. But come, Philip, let us return. You
must to Amsterdam, and I will go with you. After your labours of the
day, at least until you sail, your Amine's smiles must still enliven
you. Is it not so?" "Yes, dearest, I would have proposed it. I wonder much how Schriften
could come here. I did not see his body it is certain, but his escape
is to me miraculous. Why did he not appear when saved? where could he
have been? What think you, Amine?" "What I have long thought, Philip. He is a ghoul with an evil eye,
permitted for some cause to walk the earth in human form; and, is,
certainly, in some way, connected with your strange destiny. If it
requires anything to convince me of the truth of all that has passed,
it is his appearance--the wretched Afrit! Oh, that I had my mother's
powers!--but I forget; it displeases you, Philip, that I ever talk of
such things, and I am silent." Philip replied not; and absorbed in their own meditations they walked
back in silence to the cottage. Although Philip had made up his own
mind, he immediately sent the Portuguese priest to summon Father
Seysen, that he might communicate with them and take their opinion as
to the summons he had received. Having entered into a fresh detail of
the supposed death of Schriften, and his reappearance as a messenger,
he then left the two priests to consult together, and went upstairs to
Amine. It was more than two hours before Philip was called down, and
Father Seysen appeared to be in a state of great perplexity. "My son," said he, "we are much perplexed. We had hoped that our ideas
upon this strange communication were correct, and that, allowing all
that you have obtained from your mother and have seen yourself to have
been no deception, still that it was the work of the evil one; and, if
so, our prayers and masses would have destroyed this power. We advised
you to wait another summons, and you have received it. The letter
itself is of course nothing, but the reappearance of the bearer of the
letter is the question to be considered. Tell me, Philip, what is your
opinion on this point? It is possible he might have been saved--why
not as well as yourself?" "I acknowledge the possibility, Father," replied Philip; "he may have
been cast on shore and have wandered in another direction. It is
possible, although anything but probable; but since you ask me
my opinion, I must say candidly that I consider he is no earthly
messenger--nay, I am sure of it. That he is mysteriously connected
with my destiny is certain. But who he is, and what he is, of course I
cannot tell." "Then, my son, we have come to the determination, in this instance,
not to advise. You must act now upon your own responsibility and your
own judgment. In what way soever you may decide we shall not blame
you. Our prayers shall be that Heaven may still have you in its holy
keeping." "My decision, holy Father, is to obey the summons." "Be it so, my son; something may occur which may assist to work
out the mystery,--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 all
inclined to converse. Father Mathias took this opportunity of thanking
Philip for his hospitality and kindness, and stated his intention of
returning to Lisbon by the first opportunity that might offer. In a few days Amine and Philip took leave of the priests, and quitted
for Amsterdam--Father Seysen taking charge of the cottage until
Amine's return. On his arrival, Philip called upon the Directors of
the Company, who promised him a ship on his return from the voyage he
was about to enter upon, making a condition that he should become part
owner of the vessel. To this Philip consented, and then went down to
visit the _Vrow Katerina_, the ship to which he had been appointed as
first mate. She was still unrigged, and the fleet was not expected
to sail for two months. Only part of the crew were on board, and the
captain, who lived at Dort, had not yet arrived. So far as Philip could judge, the _Vrow Katerina_ was a very inferior
vessel; she was larger than many of the others, but old, and badly
constructed; nevertheless, as she had been several voyages to the
Indies, and had returned in safety, it was to be presumed that she
would not have been taken up by the Company if they had not been
satisfied as to her seaworthiness. Having given a few directions to
the men who were on board, Philip returned to the hostelry where he
had secured apartments 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
her by the plank which communicated with the quay, the first thing
that he did was to run to the mainmast and embrace it with both arms,
although there was no small portion of tallow on it to smear the cloth
of his coat. "Oh; my dear Vrow, my Katerina!" cried he, as if he were
speaking to a female. "How do you do? I'm glad to see you again; you
have been quite well, I hope? You do not like being laid up in this
way. Never mind, my dear creature! you shall soon be handsome again."