Philip's arguments were of no avail. The Admiral ordered him to return
on board his ship, and had he been able to find an excuse, he would
have deprived him of his command. This he could not well do; but
Philip was aware that the Admiral was now his inveterate enemy. The
Commodore was taken out of irons and brought into the cabin, and his
sentence was made known to him. "Be it so, Admiral," replied Avenhorn; "for, to attempt to turn you
from your purpose, I know would be unavailing. I am not punished for
disobedience of orders, but for having, by my disobedience, pointed
out to you your duty--a duty which you were forced to perform
afterwards by necessity. Then be it so; let me perish on these black
rocks, as I shall, and my bones be whitened by the chilly blasts which
howl over their desolation. But mark me, cruel and vindictive man! I
shall not be the only one whose bones will bleach there. I prophesy
that many others will share my fate, and even you, Admiral, _may_ be
of the number,--if I mistake not, we shall lie side by side." The Admiral made no reply, but gave a sign for the prisoner to be
removed. He then had a conference with the captains of the three
smaller vessels; and, as they had been all along retarded by the
heavier sailing of his own ship and the _Dort_ commanded by Philip, he
decided that they should part company, and proceed on as fast as they
could to the Indies--sending on board of the two larger vessels all
the provisions they could spare, as they already began to run short. Philip had left the cabin with Krantz after the prisoner had been
removed. He then wrote a few lines upon a slip of paper--"Do not leave
the beach when you are put on shore, until the vessels are out of
sight;" and, requesting Krantz to find an opportunity to deliver this
to the Commodore, he returned on board of his own ship. When the crew of the _Dort_ heard of the punishment about to be
inflicted upon their old Commander, they were much excited. They felt
that he had sacrificed himself to save them, and they murmured much at
the cruelty of the Admiral. About an hour after Philip's return to his ship, the prisoner was sent
on shore and landed on the desolate and rocky coast, with a supply of
provisions for two days. Not a single article of extra clothing, or
the means of striking a light was permitted him. When the boat's keel
grazed the beach, he was ordered out. The boat shoved off, and the men
were not permitted even to bid him farewell. The fleet, as Philip expected, remained hove-to, shifting the
provisions, and it was not till after dark that everything was
arranged. This opportunity was not lost. Philip was aware that it
would be considered a breach of discipline, but to that he was
indifferent; neither did he think it likely that it would come to the
ears of the Admiral, as the crew of the _Dort_ were partial both to
the Commodore and to him. He had desired a seaman whom he could trust,
to put into one of the boats a couple of muskets and a quantity of
ammunition, several blankets, and various other articles, besides
provisions for two or three months for one person, and, as soon as it
was dark, the men pulled on shore with the boat, found the Commodore
on the beach waiting for them, and supplied him with all these
necessaries. They then rejoined their ship, without the Admiral's
having the least suspicion of what had been done, and shortly after
the fleet made sail on a wind, with their heads off shore. The next
morning, the three smaller vessels parted company, and by sunset had
gained many miles to windward, after which they were not again seen. The Admiral had sent for Philip to give him his instructions, which
were very severe, and evidently framed so as to be able to afford him
hereafter some excuse for depriving him of his command. Among others,
his orders were, as the _Dort_ drew much less water than the Admiral's
ship, to sail ahead of him during the night, that, if they approached
too near the land as they beat across the Channel, timely notice might
be given to the Admiral, if in too shallow water. This responsibility
was the occasion of Philip's being always on deck when they approached
the land of either side of the Straits. It was the second night after
the fleet had separated that Philip had been summoned on deck as they
were nearing the land of Terra del Fuego; he was watching the man in
the chains heaving the lead, when the officer of the watch reported
to him that the Admiral's ship was ahead of them instead of astern. Philip made enquiry as to when he passed, but could not discover; he
went forward, and saw the Admiral's ship with her poop-light, which,
when the Admiral was astern, was not visible. "What can be the
Admiral's reason for this?" thought Philip; "has he run ahead on
purpose to make a charge against me of neglect of duty? it must be so. Well, let him do as he pleases; he must wait now till we arrive
in India, for I shall not allow him to _desert_ me; and, with the
Company, I have as much, and I rather think, as a large proprietor,
more interest than he has. Well, as he has thought proper to go ahead,
I have nothing to do but follow. 'You may come out of the chains
there.'" Philip went forward: they were now, as he imagined, very near to the
land, but the night was dark and they could not distinguish it. For
half an hour they continued their course, much to Philip's surprise,
for he now thought he could make out the loom of the land, dark as it
was. His eyes were constantly fixed upon the ship ahead, expecting
every minute that she would go about; but no, she continued her
course, and Philip followed with his own vessel. "We are very close to the land, sir," observed Vander Hagen, the
lieutenant, who was the officer of the watch. "So it appears to me: but the Admiral is closer, and draws much more
water than we do," replied Philip. "I think I see the rocks on the beam to leeward, sir." "I believe you are right," replied Philip: "I cannot understand this. Ready about, and get a gun ready--they must suppose us to be ahead of
them, depend upon it." Hardly had Philip given the order, when the vessel struck heavily on
the rocks. Philip hastened aft; he found that the rudder had been
unshipped, and the vessel was immovably fixed. His thoughts then
reverted to the Admiral. "Was he on shore?" He ran forward, and the
Admiral was still sailing on, with his poop-light, about two cables'
length ahead of him. "Fire the gun, there," cried Philip, perplexed beyond measure. The gun was fired, and immediately followed up by the flash and report
of another gun close astern of them. Philip looked with astonishment
over the quarter and perceived the Admiral's ship close astern to him,
and evidently on shore as well as his own. "Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Philip, rushing forward, "what can this
be?" He beheld the other vessel with her light ahead, still sailing on
and leaving them.