I am not of a prying
disposition; but we have been so long connected together, and are now
so isolated from the rest of the world, that it appears to me it would
be a solace to you, were you to confide in one whom you can trust,
what evidently has long preyed upon your mind. The consolation and
advice of a friend, Philip, are not to be despised, and you will feel
relieved if able to talk over with him a subject which evidently
oppresses you. If, therefore, you value my friendship, let me share
with you in your sorrows." There are few who have passed through life so quietly, as not to
recollect how much grief has been assuaged by confiding its cause to,
and listening to the counsels and consolations of, some dear friend. It must not therefore appear surprising, that, situated as he was, and
oppressed with the loss of Amine, Philip should regard Krantz as one
to whom he might venture to confide his important secret. He commenced
his narrative with no injunctions, for he felt that if Krantz could
not respect his secret for his secret's sake, or from good-will
towards him, he was not likely to be bound by any promise; and as,
during the day, the raft passed by the various small capes and
headlands of the island, he poured into Krantz's ear the history which
the reader is acquainted with. "Now you know all," said Philip with
a deep sigh, as the narrative was concluded. "What think you? Do you
credit my strange tale, or do you imagine, as some well would, that it
is a mere phantom of a disordered brain?" "That it is not so, Philip, I believe," replied Krantz; "for I too
have had ocular proof of the correctness of a part of your history. Remember how often I have seen this Phantom Ship--and if your father
is permitted to range over the seas, why should you not be selected
and permitted to reverse his doom? I fully believe every word that you
have told me, and since you have told me this, I can comprehend much
that in your behaviour at times appeared unaccountable; there are many
who would pity you, Philip, but I envy you." "Envy me?" cried Philip. "Yes! envy you: and gladly would I take the burden of your doom on my
own shoulders, were it only possible. Is it not a splendid thought
that you are summoned to so great a purpose,--that instead of roaming
through the world as we all do in pursuit of wealth, which possibly we
may lose after years of cost and hardship, by the venture of a day,
and which, at all events, we must leave behind us,--you are selected
to fulfil a great and glorious work--the work of angels, I may
say--that of redeeming the soul of a father, _suffering_ indeed, for
his human frailties, but not doomed to perish for eternity; you have,
indeed, an object of pursuit worthy of all the hardships and dangers
of a maritime life. If it ends in your death, what then? Where else
end our futile cravings, our continual toil, after nothing? We all
must die--but how few--who indeed besides yourself--was ever permitted
before his death to ransom the soul of the author of his existence! Yes, Philip, I envy you!" "You think and speak like Amine. She too is of a wild and ardent
soul, that would mingle with the beings of the other world, and hold
intelligence with disembodied spirits." "She is right," replied Krantz; "there are events in my life, or
rather connected with my family, which have often fully convinced me
that this is not only possible but permitted. Your story has only
corroborated what I already believed." "Indeed! Krantz?" "Indeed, yes; but of that hereafter: the night is closing in, we must
again put our little bark in safety for the night, and there is a cove
which I think appears suited for the purpose." Before morning, a strong breeze right on shore had sprung up, and the
surf became so high as to endanger the raft; to continue their course
was impossible; they could only haul up their raft to prevent its
being dashed to pieces by the force of the waves, as the seas broke
on the shore. Philip's thoughts were, as usual, upon Amine, and as he
watched the tossing waters, as the sunbeams lightened up their crests,
he exclaimed, "Ocean! hast thou my Amine? If so, give up thy dead! What is that?" continued he, pointing to a speck on the horizon. "The sail of a small craft of some description or another," replied
Krantz; "and apparently coming down before the wind to shelter herself
in the very nook we have selected." "You are right; it is the sail of a vessel, of one of those peroquas
which skim over these seas--how she rises on the swell!--she is full
of men, apparently." The peroqua rapidly approached, and was soon close to the beach; the
sail was lowered, and she was backed in through the surf. "Resistance is useless should they prove enemies," observed Philip. "We shall soon know our fate." The people in the peroqua took no notice of them, until the craft had
been hauled up and secured; three of them then advanced towards Philip
and Krantz, with spears in their hands, but evidently with no hostile
intentions. One addressed them in Portuguese, asking them who they
were? "We are Hollanders," replied Philip. "A part of the crew of the vessel which was wrecked?" inquired he. "Yes!" "You have nothing to fear--you are enemies to the Portuguese, and so
are we. We belong to the island of Ternate--our king is at war with
the Portuguese, who are villains. Where are your companions? on which
island?" "They are all dead," replied Philip; "may I ask you whether you have
fallen in with a woman, who was adrift on a part of the raft by
herself? or have you heard of her?" "We have heard that a woman was picked up on the beach to the
southward, and carried away by the Tidore people to the Portuguese
settlement, on the supposition that she was a Portuguese." "Then God be thanked, she is saved," cried Philip. "Merciful Heaven! accept my thanks.--To Tidore you said?" "Yes; we are at war with the Portuguese, we cannot take you there." "No! but we shall meet again." The person who accosted them was evidently of some consequence. His
dress was, to a certain degree, Mahometan, but mixed up with Malay--he
carried arms in his girdle and a spear in his hand; his turban was of
printed chintz; and his deportment, like most persons of rank in that
country, was courteous and dignified. "We are now returning to Ternate, and will take you with us. Our king
will be pleased to receive any Hollanders, especially as you are
enemies to the Portuguese dogs. I forgot to tell you that we have one
of your companions with us in the boat; we picked him up at sea, much
exhausted, but he is now doing well." "Who can it be?" observed Krantz, "it must be some one belonging to
some other vessel." "No," replied Philip, shuddering, "it must be Schriften." "Then my eyes must behold him before I believe it," replied Krantz. "Then believe your eyes," replied Philip, pointing to the form of
Schriften, who was now walking towards them. "Mynheer Vanderdecken, glad to see you. Mynheer Krantz, I hope you are
well.