Assured of again meeting with the Phantom Ship, and almost equally
assured that the meeting would be followed by some untoward event, in
all probability by the sacrifice of those who sailed with him, his
thoughts preyed upon him, and wore him down to a shadow. He hardly
ever spoke, except in the execution of his duty. He felt like a
criminal; as one who, by embarking with them, had doomed all around
him to death, disaster, and peril; and when _one_ talked of his
wife, and _another_ of his children--when they would indulge in
anticipations, and canvass happy projects, Philip would feel sick at
heart, and would rise from the table and hasten to the solitude of the
deck. At one time he would try to persuade himself that his senses had
been worked upon in some moment of excitement, that he was the victim
of an illusion; at another he would call to mind all the past--he
would feel its terrible reality--and then the thought would suggest
itself that with this supernatural vision Heaven had nothing to do;
that it was but the work and jugglery of Satan. But then the relic--by
such means the devil would not have worked. A few days after he had
sailed, he bitterly repented that he had not stated the whole of
his circumstances to Father Seysen, and taken his advice upon the
propriety of following up his search; but it was now too late; already
was the good ship _Batavia_ more than a thousand miles from the port
of Amsterdam, and his duty, whatever it might be, _must_ be fulfilled. As the fleet approached the Cape, his anxiety increased to such a
degree that it was remarked by all who were on board. The captain and
officers commanding the troops embarked, who all felt interested in
him, vainly attempted to learn the cause of his anxiety. Philip would
plead ill-health; and his haggard countenance and sunken eyes silently
proved that he was under acute suffering. The major part of the night
he passed on deck, straining his eyes in every quarter, and watching
each change in the horizon, in anticipation of the appearance of the
Phantom Ship; and it was not till the day dawned that he sought a
perturbed repose in his cabin. After a favourable passage, the fleet
anchored to refresh at Table Bay, and Philip felt some small relief,
that up to the present time the supernatural visitation had not again
occurred. As soon as the fleet had watered, they again made sail, and again
did Philip's agitation become perceptible. With a favouring breeze,
however, they rounded the Cape, passed by Madagascar, and arrived in
the Indian Seas, when the _Batavia_ parted company with the rest of
the fleet, which steered to Cambroon and Ceylon. "And now," thought
Philip, "will the Phantom Ship make her appearance. It has only waited
till we should be left without a consort to assist us in distress." But
the _Batavia_ sailed in a smooth sea and under a cloudless sky, and
nothing was seen. In a few weeks she arrived off Java, and, previous
to entering the splendid roads of Batavia, hove-to for the night. This
was the last night they would be under sail, and Philip stirred not
from the deck, but walked to and fro, anxiously waiting for the
morning. The morning broke--the sun rose in splendour, and the
_Batavia_ steered into the roads. Before noon she was at anchor, and
Philip, with his mind relieved, hastened down to his cabin, and took
that repose which he so much required. He awoke refreshed, for a great weight had been taken off his mind. "It does not follow, then," thought he, "that because I am on board
the vessel therefore the crew are doomed to perish; it does not follow
that the Phantom Ship is to appear because I seek her. If so, I have
no further weight upon my conscience. I seek her, it is true, and wish
to meet with her; I stand, however, but the same chance as others; and
it is no way certain that because I seek, I am sure to find. That she
brings disaster upon all she meets, may be true, but not that I bring
with me the disaster of meeting her. Heaven I thank thee! Now I can
prosecute my search without remorse." Philip, restored to composure by these reflections, went on deck. The
debarkation of the troops was already taking place, for they were as
anxious to be relieved from their long confinement as the seamen were
to regain a little space and comfort. He surveyed the scene. The town
of Batavia lay about one mile from them, low on the beach; from behind
it rose a lofty chain of mountains, brilliant with verdure, and, here
and there, peopled with country seats, belonging to the residents,
delightfully embosomed in forests of trees. The panorama was
beautiful; the vegetation was luxuriant, and, from its vivid green,
refreshing to the eye. Near to the town lay large and small vessels,
a forest of masts; the water in the bay was of a bright blue, and
rippled to a soft breeze; here and there small islets (like tufts of
fresh verdure) broke the uniformity of the water-line; even the town
itself was pleasing to the eye, the white colour of the houses being
opposed to the dark foliage of the trees, which grew in the gardens,
and lined the streets. "Can it be possible," observed Philip to the captain of the _Batavia_,
who stood by him, "that this beautiful spot can be so unhealthy? I
should form a very different opinion from its appearance." "Even," replied the captain, "as the venomous snakes of the country
start up from among its flowers, so does death stalk about in this
beautiful and luxuriant landscape. Do you feel better, Mynheer
Vanderdecken?" "Much better," replied Philip. "Still, in your enfeebled state, I should recommend you to go on
shore." "I shall avail myself of your permission, with thanks. How long shall
we stay here?" "Not long, as we are ordered to run back. Our cargo is all ready for
us, and will be on board soon after we have discharged." Philip took the advice of his captain; he had no difficulty in finding
himself received by a hospitable merchant, who had a house at some
distance from the town, and in a healthy situation. There he remained
two months, during which he re-established his health, and then
re-embarked a few days previous to the ship being ready for sea. The
return voyage was fortunate, and in four months from the date of their
quitting Batavia, they found themselves abreast of St Helena; for
vessels, at that period, generally made what is called the eastern
passage, running down the coast of Africa, instead of keeping towards
the American shores. Again they had passed the Cape without meeting
with the Phantom Ship; and Philip was not only in excellent health,
but in good spirits. As they lay becalmed, with the island in sight,
they observed a boat pulling towards them, and in the course of three
hours she arrived on board. The crew were much exhausted from having
been two days in the boat, during which time they had never ceased
pulling to gain the island.