Am I
not in the same position? I was brought up in another creed: and can
you expect that that can be dismissed, and the prejudices of early
years at once eradicated? I have thought much of what you have told
me--have felt that much is true--that the tenets of your creed are
god-like--is not that much? and yet you are not content. You would
have blind acknowledgment, blind obedience--I were then an unworthy
convert. We shall soon be in port, then teach me, and convince me, if
you will; I am ready to examine and confess, but on conviction only. Have patience, good Father, and the time may come when I _may_ feel,
what now I _do not_;--that yon bit of painted wood is a thing to bow
down to and adore." Notwithstanding this taunt at the close of this speech, there was so
much truth in the observations of Amine, that Father Mathias felt
their power. As the wife of a Catholic, he had been accustomed to view
Amine as one who had backslided from the church of Rome--not as one
who had been brought up in another creed. He now recalled to mind,
that she had never yet been received into the church, for Father
Seysen had not considered her as in a proper state to be admitted, and
had deferred her baptism until he was satisfied of her full belief. "You speak boldly; but you speak as you feel, my child," replied
Father Mathias after a pause. "We will, when we arrive at Goa, talk
over these things, and with the blessing of God, the new faith shall
be made manifest to you." "So be it," replied Amine. Little did the priest imagine that Amine's thoughts were at that
moment upon a dream she had had at New Guinea, in which her mother
appeared, and revealed to her her magic arts--and that Amine was
longing to arrive at Goa that she might practise them. Every hour the gale increased, and the vessel laboured and leaked; the
Portuguese sailors were frightened, and invoked their saints. Father
Mathias, and the other passengers, gave themselves up for lost, for
the pumps could not keep the vessel free; and their cheeks blanched as
the waves washed furiously over the vessel: they prayed and trembled. Father Mathias gave them absolution; some cried like children, some
tore their hair, some cursed, and cursed the saints they had but the
day before invoked. But Amine stood unmoved; and as she heard them
curse, she smiled in scorn. "My child," said Father Mathias, checking his tremulous voice that he
might not appear agitated before one whom he saw so calm and unmoved
amidst the roaring of the elements--"My child, let not this hour of
peril pass away. Before thou art summoned, let me receive thee into
the bosom of our church--give thee pardon for thy sins, and certainty
of bliss hereafter." "Good Father, Amine is not to be frightened into belief, even if she
feared the storm," replied she; "nor will she credit your power to
forgive her sins, merely because she says, in fear, that which in her
calm reason she might reject. If ever fear could have subjected me,
it was when I was alone upon the raft--that was indeed a trial of my
strength of mind, the bare recollection of which is, at this moment,
more dreadful than the storm now raging, and the death which may await
us. There is a God on high in whose mercy I trust--in whose love I
confide--to whose will I bow. Let Him do His will." "Die not, my child, in unbelief!" "Father," replied Amine, pointing to the passengers and seamen who
were on the deck crying and wailing: "these are Christians--these men
have been promised by you, but now, the inheritance of perfect bliss. What is their faith, that it does not give them strength to die like
men? Why is it that a woman quails not, while they lie grovelling on
the deck?" "Life is sweet, my child--they leave their wives, their children, and
they dread hereafter. Who is prepared to die?" "I am," replied Amine. "I have no husband--at least I fear I have no
husband. For me life has no sweets; yet, one little hope remains--a
straw to the sinking wretch. I fear not death, for I have nought to
live for. Were Philip here, why, then indeed--but he is gone before
me, and now to follow him is all I ask." "He died in the faith, my child--if you would meet him, do the same." "He never died like these," replied Amine, looking with scorn at the
passengers. "Perhaps he lived not as they have lived," replied Father Mathias. "A
good man dies in peace, and hath no fear." "So die the good men of all creeds, Father," replied Amine; "and in
all creeds death is equally terrible to the wicked." "I will pray for thee, my child," said Father Mathias, sinking on his
knees. "Many thanks--thy prayers will be heard, even though offered for one
like me," replied Amine, who, clinging to the man-ropes, made her way
up to the ladder, and gained the deck. "Lost! signora, lost!" exclaimed the captain, wringing his hands as he
crouched under the bulwark. "No!" replied Amine, who had gained the weather side, and held on by a
rope; "not lost this time." "How say you, signora?" replied the captain, looking with admiration
at Amine's calm and composed countenance. "How say you, signora?" "Something tells me, good captain, that you will not be lost, if you
exert yourselves--something tells it to me here," and Amine laid her
hand to her heart. Amine had a conviction that the vessel would not be
lost, for it had not escaped her observation that the storm was less
violent, although, in their terror, this had been unnoticed by the
sailors. The coolness of Amine, her beauty, perhaps, the unusual sight of a
woman so young, calm and confiding, when all others were in despair,
had its due effect upon the captain and seamen. Supposing her to be
a Catholic they imagined that she had had some warrant for her
assertion, for credulity and superstition are close friends. They
looked upon Amine with admiration and respect, recovered their
energies, and applied to their duties. The pumps were again worked;
the storm abated during the night, and the vessel was, as Amine had
predicted, saved. The crew and passengers looked upon her almost as a saint, and talked
of her to Father Mathias, who was sadly perplexed. The courage which
she had displayed was extraordinary; even when he trembled, she showed
no sign of fear. He made no reply, but communed with his own mind,
and the result was unfavourable to Amine. What had given her such
coolness? what had given her the spirit of prophecy? Not the God of
the Christians, for she was no believer. Who then? and Father Mathias
thought of her chamber at Terneuse, and shook his head. Chapter XXX


We must now again return to Philip and Krantz, who had a long
conversation upon the strange reappearance of Schriften. All that they
could agree upon was, that he should be carefully watched, and that
they should dispense with his company as soon as possible.