He has promised me what I
have long been prepared for--what I vowed to Heaven to suffer. Already
have I suffered much, and am prepared to suffer more. I have long
looked upon this world as a pilgrimage, and (selected as I have been)
trust that my reward will be in the other. But, Amine, you are not
bound by oath to Heaven, you have made no compact. He advised you to
go home. He talked of a cruel death. Follow his advice and avoid it." "I am not bound by oath, Philip; but hear me; as I hope for future
bliss, I now bind myself--"

"Hold, Amine!" "Nay, Philip, you cannot prevent me; for if you do now, I will repeat
it when you are absent. A cruel death were a charity to me, for I
shall not see you suffer. Then may I never expect future bliss, may
eternal misery be my portion, if I leave you as long as fate permits
us to be together. I am yours--your wife; my fortunes, my present, my
future, my all are embarked with you, and destiny may do its worst,
for Amine will not quail. I have no recreant heart to turn aside from
danger or from suffering. In that one point, Philip, at least, you
chose, you wedded well." Philip raised her hand to his lips in silence, and the conversation
was not resumed. The next evening, Schriften came up again to Amine. "Well, lady?" said he. "Schriften, it cannot be," replied Amine; "yet do I thank you much." "Lady, if he must follow up his mission, why should you?" "Schriften, I am his wife--his for ever, in this world, and the next. You cannot blame me." "No," replied Schriften, "I do not blame, I admire you. I feel sorry. But, after all, what is death? Nothing. He! he!" and Schriften
hastened away, and left Amine to herself. Chapter XXII


The _Utrecht_ sailed from Gambroon, touched at Ceylon, and proceeded
on her voyage in the Eastern Seas. Schriften still remained on board,
but since his last conversation with Amine he had kept aloof, and
appeared to avoid both her and Philip; still there was not, as before,
any attempt to make the ship's company disaffected, nor did he indulge
in his usual taunts and sneers. The communication he had made to Amine
had also its effect upon her and Philip; they were more pensive and
thoughtful; each attempted to conceal their gloom from the other; and
when they embraced, it was with the mournful feeling that perhaps it
was an indulgence they would soon be deprived of: at the same time,
they steeled their hearts to endurance and prepared to meet the worst. Krantz wondered at the change, but of course could not account for it. The _Utrecht_ was not far from the Andaman Isles, when Krantz, who had
watched the barometer, came in early one morning and called Philip. "We have every prospect of a typhoon, sir," said Krantz; "the glass
and the weather are both threatening." "Then we must make all snug. Send down top-gallant yards and small
sails directly. We will strike top-gallant masts. I will be out in a
minute." Philip hastened on deck. The sea was smooth, but already the moaning
of the wind gave notice of the approaching storm. The vacuum in the
air was about to be filled up, and the convulsion would be terrible; a
white haze gathered fast, thicker and thicker; the men were turned up,
everything of weight was sent below, and the guns were secured. Now
came a blast of wind which careened the ship, passed over, and in a
minute she righted as before; then another and another, fiercer and
fiercer still. The sea, although smooth, at last appeared white as a
sheet with foam, as the typhoon swept along in its impetuous career;
it burst upon the vessel, which bowed down to her gunwale and there
remained; in a quarter of an hour the hurricane had passed over, and
the vessel was relieved; but the sea had risen, and the wind was
strong. In another hour the blast again came, more wild, more furious
than the first, the waves were dashed into their faces, torrents
of rain descended, the ship was thrown on her beam ends, and thus
remained till the wild blast had passed away, to sweep destruction far
beyond them, leaving behind it a tumultuous angry sea. "It is nearly over I believe, sir," said Krantz. "It is clearing up a
little to windward." "We have had the worst of it, I believe," said Philip. "No! there is worse to come," said a low voice near to Philip. It was
Schriften who spoke. "A vessel to windward scudding before the gale," cried Krantz. Philip looked to windward, and in the spot where the horizon was
clearest, he saw a vessel under topsails and foresail, standing right
down. "She is a large vessel; bring me my glass." The telescope was
brought from the cabin, but before Philip could use it, a haze had
again gathered up to windward, and the vessel was not to be seen. "Thick again," observed Philip, as he shut in his telescope; "we must
look out for that vessel, that she does not run too close to us." "She has seen us, no doubt, sir," said Krantz. After a few minutes the typhoon again raged, and the atmosphere was of
a murky gloom. It seemed as if some heavy fog had been hurled along
by the furious wind; nothing was to be distinguished except the white
foam of the sea, and that not the distance of half a cable's length,
where it was lost in one dark gray mist. The storm-staysail yielding
to the force of the wind, was rent into strips, and flogged and
cracked with a noise even louder than the gale. The furious blast
again blew over, and the mist cleared up a little. "Ship on the weather beam close aboard of us," cried one of the men. Krantz and Philip sprung upon the gunwale, and beheld the large ship
bearing right down upon them, not three cables' length distant. "Helm up! she does not see us, and she will be aboard of us!" cried
Philip. "Helm up, I say, hard up, quick!" The helm was put up, as the men, perceiving their imminent danger,
climbed upon the guns to look if the vessel altered her course; but
no--down she came, and the head-sails of the _Utrecht_ having been
carried away, to their horror they perceived that she would not answer
her helm and pay off as they required. "Ship, ahoy!" roared Philip through his trumpet--but the gale drove
the sound back. "Ship, ahoy!" cried Krantz on the gunwale, waving his hat. It was
useless--down she came, with the waters foaming under her bows, and
was now within pistol-shot of the _Utrecht_. "Ship, ahoy!" roared all the sailors, with a shout that must have been
heard: it was not attended to; down came the vessel upon them, and now
her cutwater was within ten yards of the _Utrecht_. The men of the
_Utrecht_, who expected that their vessel would be severed in half by
the concussion, climbed upon the weather gunwale, all ready to catch
at the ropes of the other vessel and climb on board of her. Amine who
had been surprised at the noise on deck, had come out and had taken
Philip by the arm. "Trust to me--the shock"--said Philip.