Illustrated Sterling edition THE PHANTOM SHIP OLLA PODRIDA BY CAPTAIN FREDERICK MARRYAT With Introduction by W. L. COURTNEY, M. A., LL. D. BOSTON DANA ESTES & COMPANY PUBLISHERS INTRODUCTION the publication of "The Phantom Ship" in 1839, Captain Marryat entered upon a new phase of his literary career. Hitherto his stories had been based on his own experience of life on the high seas, but in " The Phantom Ship" he forsakes the safe ground of experience for the perilous realms of the supernatural. The basis of this novel is the well-known legend of the Flying Dutchman, and in order to give his narrative that touch of remoteness from the practical realities of the present which the supernatural theme seemed to require, Captain Marryat refers it to the middle of the seventeenth century, and places his scene on board the vessels of the Dutch East India Company. This last change is of little or no importance, for although his mariners and their ships have foreign names, they bear a strong resemblance in all essentials to the bluejackets of her Majesty's navy. In attempting to give to his story an air of antiquity, how- ever, Marryat was not very successful. The means on which he relies for producing this effect are, it is true, of the simplest description, and consist mainly in a liberal use of the second person singular, yet even this slight change from his wonted style seems to encumber the flow of the narrative, and pro- duces, in fact, some very stilted and forced dialogue. All this vanishes, fortunately, as soon as the author warms to his work, and by the time the story is well under way, the seven- teenth century and its requirements are entirely forgotten. 2024444 INTRODUCTION Since he had made choice of a supernatural legend as his main theme, Captain Marryat seems to have felt himself bound to introduce as many other incidents of a non-natural character as he possibly could< For this reason the hero, Philip Vanderdecken, is made to marry a girl of Arab extrac- tion, who is constantly attempting to recall the half-forgotten magical arts which her mother had practised. An oppor- tunity is also found in the history of Krantz, the second mate of the Vrow Katerina, for bringing in the Scandinavian legend of the were-wolf, which has certainly never been related with a greater wealth of ghoulish and ghastly incidents. In spite of all this, Captain Marryat does not appear to the best advantage when dealing with supernatural themes. The legend of the Flying Dutchman loses something of consistency in his hands : at one time the doomed vessel is an insub- stantial vision, which can pass clean through the Utrecht, at another she is a real craft whose deck can be boarded by mortal men. Schriften, too, the one-eyed pilot, is no part of the original legend, and though he has his uses in Marryat's version, the reader is not permitted to discover them until the very end of the book, when he naturally feels himself a little aggrieved at having so much mystery forced upon him, all for the sake of an obvious moral. Amine's witchcraft, again, seems a rather purposeless invention. Her constant efforts to influence and help her husband's career are absolutely futile, and bring about nothing but her own destruction. The fact, however, of her falling into the hands of the Inquisition at Goa, gives Marryat an oppor- tunity for a very accurate and graphic description of the proceedings of the Holy Office, in the capital of the Portu- guese East Indies. "The Inquisition scenes," says Mr. David Hannay, "are the best passages of pure melodrama in his work. The effect is largely obtained, as is not unusual with him, by the simple and also perfectly legitimate process of conveyance, pure and simple. He took Dellon's Relation vi. INTRODUCTION de F Inquisition de Goa, and transferred the Frenchman's gruesome picture to his own pages." In short, Captain Marryat is not a Prospero, for though he can, after a fashion, call spirits from the vasty deep, he does not know what to do with them, and when they obey his summons he cannot manage them. Though horrors are piled on horrors, and sorcery, evil spirits, and ghosts do their worst, the result is neither satisfactory nor convincing. The really interesting and effective parts of the book are those in which Captain Marryat goes back again to the in- cidents of his own experience, or narrates the adventures in which the maritime history of the seventeenth century was so wonderfully rich. When, for a few chapters, the spirits are forgotten, and the heroism or wickedness of fleshly human sinners is the theme, the author is on safe ground again, and here in his own field he is as successful as ever. "The Phantom Ship" undoubtedly contains some of Marryat's best work of this kind. The wreck of the Ter Schilling, and the subsequent adventures of the survivors among the Hottentots of the Cape of Good Hope, is an energetic and spirited piece of description. Another powerful scene is the marooning of Commodore Avenhorn on a desolate island in the Straits of Magellan, and still more exciting is the vivid and minute description of the fire at sea in which the from Katerma perished. The somewhat sombre character of the story is admirablv enlivened by the humorous account of the sufferings of Van Stroom, the supercargo of the Ter Schilling. Captain Marryat describes his misadventures with the contemptuous glee which the sailor by profession feels for all mere landlubbers, and spares no pains to make the poor man thoroughly ridiculous. Storm and shipwreck are not enough for his discomfiture, but he must also be delivered over to the tender mercies of the captain's tame bear, who makes sad havoc with the flowing curls of his landsman's wig. Another good comic figure is Captain Barents, with 18 ffi INTRODUCTION absurd infatuation for his old badly-built hulk, the Vrom Katerina, in his estimation the finest ship that ever drew water. The chief artistic merit of "The Phantom Ship," however, is its dramatic ending. A less accomplished story- teller than Captain Marryat might have fallen into the error of allowing Philip Vanderdecken to live on when his wife was dead and his mission was accomplished. No such mistake was possible to Captain Marryat : he saw that the story re- quired an unhappy ending, and this ending he gave it with admirable force and effect. It is on a really fine and touch- ing scene that the curtain at last falls. W. L. C. April 1897. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS THE PHANTOM SHIP " My oath was registered in thunder, and in streams of sulphurous fire " Frontispiece " ' There in the gloom ! ' said the pilot, pointing to the darkest quarter of the horizon " Poge 84 " The remnants of the hull floated upon the water" . . " 351 OLLA PODRIDA " He swept the natives off the raft " Page 16 The Belgian Beggars "150 " I looked round : it was a female " . , " 241 THE PHANTOM SHIP CHAPTER I ABOUT the middle of the seventeenth century, in the out- skirts of the small but fortified town of Terneuse, situated on the right bank of the Scheldt, and nearly opposite to the island of Walcheren, there was to be seen in advance of a few other even more humble tenements, a small but neat cottage, built according to the prevailing taste of the time. The outside front had, some years back, been painted of a deep orange, the windows and shutters of a vivid green. To about three feet above the surface of the earth, it was faced alternately with blue and white tiles. A small garden, of about two rods of our measure of land, surrounded the edifice ; and this little plot was flanked by a low hedge of privet, and encircled by a moat full of water, too wide to be leaped with ease. Over that part of the moat which was in front of the cottage-door was a small and narrow bridge, with ornamented iron hand- rails, for the security of the passenger. But the colours, originally so bright, with which the cottage had been deco- rated, had now faded ; symptoms of rapid decay were evident in the window-sills, the door-jambs, and other wooden parts of the tenement, and many of the white and blue tiles had fallen down, and had not been replaced. That much care had once been bestowed upon this little tenement, was as evident as that latterly it had been equally neglected. The inside of the cottage, both on the basement and the floor above, was divided into two larger rooms in front, and two smaller behind ; the rooms in front could only be called large in comparison with the other two, as they were little more than twelve feet square, with but one window to each. The 1 A THE PHANTOM SHIP upper floor was, as usual, appropriated to the bedrooms ; on the lower, the two smaller rooms were now used only as a wash-house and a lumber-room ; while one of the larger was fitted up as a kitchen, and furnished with dressers, on which the metal utensils for cookery shone clean and polished as silver. The room itself was scrupulously neat ; but the fur- niture, as well as the utensils, were scanty. The boards of the floor were of a pure white, and so clean, that you might have laid anything down without fear of soiling it. A strong deal table, two wooden-seated chairs, and a small easy couch, whicli had been removed from one of the bedrooms upstairs, were all the movables which this room contained. The other front room had been fitted up as a parlour; but what might be the style of its furniture was now unknown, for no eye had beheld the contents of that room for nearly seventeen years, during which it had been hermetically sealed, even to the inmates of the cottage. The kitchen, which we have described, was occupied by two persons. One was a woman, apparently about forty years of age, but worn down by pain and suffering. She had evidently once possi v,sed much beauty: there were still the regular out- lines, the noble forehead, and the large dark eye ; but there was a tenuity in her features, a wasted appearance, such as to render the flesh transparent ; her brow, when she mused, would sink into deep wrinkles, premature though they were ; and the occasional flashing of her eyes strongly impressed you with the idea of insanity. There appeared to be some deep- seated, irremovable, hopeless cause of anguish, never for one moment permitted to be absent from her memory : a chronic oppression, fixed and graven there, only to be removed by death. She was dressed in the widow's coif of the time; but although clean and neat, her garments were faded from long wear. She was seated upon the small couch which we have mentioned, evidently brought down as a relief to her, in her declining state. On the deal table in the centre of the room sat the other person, a stout, fair-haired, florid youth of nineteen or twenty years old. His features were handsome and bold, and his frame powerful to excess; his eye denoted courage and deter- mination, and as he carelessly swung his legs, and whistled an air in an emphatic manner, it was impossible not to form THE PHANTOM SHIP the idea that he was a daring, adventurous, and reckless character. " Do not go to sea, Philip ; oh, promise me that, my dear, dear child," said the female, clasping her hands. " And why not go to sea, mother ? " replied Philip ; " what's the use of my staying here to starve ? for, by Heaven ! it's little better. I must do something for myself and for you. And what else can I do ? My uncle Vanbrennen has offered to take me with him, and will give me good wages. Then I shall live happily on board, and my earnings will be sufficient for your support at home." " Philip Philip, hear me. I shall die if you leave me. Whom have I in the world but you ? O my child., as you love me, and I know you do love me, Philip, don't leave me ; but if you will, at all events do not go to sea." Philip gave no immediate reply ; he whistled for a few seconds, while his mother wept. " Is it," said he at last, " because my father was drowned at sea, that you beg so hard, mother ? " " Oh no no ! " exclaimed the sobbing woman. " Would to God ' " Would to God what, mother ? " " Nothing nothing. Be merciful be merciful, O God ! " replied the mother, sliding from her seat on the couch, and kneeling by the side of it, in which attitude she remained for some time in fervent prayer. At last she resumed her seat, and her face wore an aspect of more composure. Philip, who during this had remained silent and thought- ful, again addressed his mother. " Look ye, mother. You ask me to stay on shore with you, and starve rather hard conditions ; now hear what I have to say. That room opposite has been shut up ever since I can remember why, you will never tell me ; but once I heard you say, when we were without bread, and with no prospect of my uncle's return you were then half frantic, mother, as you know you sometimes are " Well, Philip, what did you hear me say ? " inquired his mother, with tremulous anxiety. "You said, mother, that there was money in that room which would save us ; and then you screamed and raved, and said that you preferred death. Now, mother, what is there in I THE PHANTOM SHIP that chamber, and why has it been so long shut up ? Either 1 know that, or I go to sea." At the commencement of this address of Philip, his mother appeared to be transfixed, and motionless as a statue ; gradu- ally her lips separated, and her eyes glared ; she seemed to have lost the power of reply ; she put her hand to her right side, as if to compress it, then both her hands, as if to relieve herself from excruciating torture ; at last she sank with her head forward, and the blood poured out of her mouth. Philip sprang from the table to her assistance, and prevented her from falling on the floor. He laid her on the couch, watching with alarm the continued effusion. " O mother ! mother, what is this ? " cried he at last, in great distress. For some time his mother could make him no reply ; she turned further on her side, that she might not be suffocated by the discharge from the ruptured vessel, and the snow-white planks of the floor were soon crimsoned with her blood. " Speak, dearest mother, if you can," repeated Philip, in agony ; " what shall I do ? what shall I give you ? God Almighty ! what is this ? " "Death, my child, death !" at length replied the poor woman, sinking into a state of unconsciousness. Philip, now much alarmed, flew out of the cottage, and called the neighbours to his mother's assistance. Two or three hastened to the call ; and as soon as Philip saw them occupied in restoring his mother, he ran as fast as he could to the house of a medical man, who lived about a mile off one Mynheer Poots, a little, miserable, avaricious wretch, but known to be very skilful in his profession. Philip found Poots at home, and insisted upon his immediate attendance. " I will come yes, most certainly," replied Poots, who spoke the language but imperfectly ; " but, Mynheer Vander- decken, who will pay me ? " " Pay you ! my uncle will, directly that he comes home." " Your uncle, de Skipper Vanbrennen : no, he owes me four guilders, and he has owed me for a long time. Besides, his ship may sink." " He shall pay you the four guilders, and for this attendance also," replied Philip, in a rage ; " come directly, while you are disputing my mother may be dead." THE PHANTOM SHIP " But, Mr. Philip, I cannot come, now I recollect ; I have to see the child of the burgomaster at Terneuse," replied Mynheer Foots. "Look you, Mynheer Poots," exclaimed Philip, red with passion ; " you have but to choose, will you go quietly, or must I take you there ? You'll not trifle with me." Here Mynheer Poots was under considerable alarm, for the character of Philip Vanderdecken was well known. " I will come by-and-by, Mynheer Philip, if I can." "You'll come now, you wretched old miser," exclaimed Philip, seizing hold of the little man by the collar, and pulling him out of his door. " Murder ! murder ! " cried Poots, as he lost his legs, and was dragged along by the impetuous young man. Philip stopped, for he perceived that Poots was black in the face. " Must I then choke you, to make you go quietly ? for, hear me, go you shall, alive or dead." " Well, then," replied Poots, recovering himself, " I will go, but I'll have you in prison to-night; and, as for your mother, I'll not no, that I will not Mynheer Philip, depend upon it." "Mark me, Mynheer Poots," replied Philip, "as sure as there is a God in heaven, if you do not come with me, I'll choke you now ; and when you arrive, if you do not your best for my poor mother, I'll murder you there. You know that I always do what I say, so now take my advice, come along quietly, and you shall certainly be paid, and well paid if I sell my coat." This last observation of Philip, perhaps, had more effect than even his threats. Poots was a miserable little atom, and like a child in the powerful grasp of the young man. The doctor's tenement was isolated, and he could obtain no assistance until within a hundred yards of Vanderdecken's cottage ; so Mynheer Poots decided that he would go first, because Philip had promised to pay him, and secondly, because he could not help it. This point being settled, Philip and Mynheer Poots made all haste to the cottage ; and on their arrival, they found his mother still in the arms of two of her female neighbours, who were bathing her temples with vinegar. She was in a state of consciousness, but she could not speak, Poots ordered her THE PHANTOM SHIP to be carried upstairs and put to bed, and pouring some acids down her throat, hastened away with Philip to procure the necessary remedies. " You will give your mother that directly, Mynheer Philip," said Pools, putting a phial into his hand ; " I will now go to the child of the burgomaster, and will afterwards come back to your cottage." " Don't deceive me," said Philip, with a threatening look. "No, no, Mynheer Philip, I would not trust to your uncle Vanbrennen for payment, but you have promised, and I know that you always keep your word. In one hour I will be with your mother ; but you yourself must now be quick." Philip hastened home. After the potion had been adminis- tered, the bleeding was wholly stopped ; and in half-an-hour his mother could express her wishes in a whisper. When the little doctor arrived, he carefully examined his patient, and then went downstairs with her son into the kitchen. "Mynheer Philip," said Foots, "by Allah! I have done my best, but I must tell you that I have little hopes of your mother rising from her bed again. She may live one day or two days, but not more. It is not my fault, Mynheer Philip," continued Poots, in a deprecating tone. " No, no ; it is the will of Heaven," replied Philip mourn- fully. " And you will pay me, Mynheer Vanderdecken ? " con- tinued the doctor, after a short pause. " Yes," replied Philip, in a voice of thunder, and starting from a reverie. After a moment's silence, the doctor recommenced : "Shall I come to-morrow, Mynheer Philip? You know that will be a charge of another guilder : it is of no use to throw away money or time either." "Come to-morrow, come every hour, charge" what you please ; you shall certainly be paid," replied Philip, curling his lip with contempt. "Well, it is as you please. As soon as she is dead, the cottage and the furniture will be yours, ana you will sell them, of course. Yes, I will come. You will have plenty of money. Mynheer Philip, I would like the first offer of the cottage, if it is to let" Philip raised his arm in the air as if tc* crush Mynheer Foots, who retreated to the corner. 6 THE PHANTOM SHIP " I did not mean until your mother was buried/' said Foots, in a coaxing tone. " Go, wretch, go ! " said Philip, covering his face with his hands, as he sank down upon the blood-stained couch. After a short interval, Philip Vanderdecken returned to the bedside of his mother, whom he found much better ; and the neighbours, having their own affairs to attend to, left them alone. Exhausted with the loss of blood, the poor woman slum- bered for many hours, during which she never let go the hand of Philip, who watched her breathing in mournful meditation. It was about one o'clock in the morning when the widow awoke. She had in a great degree recovered her voice, and thus she addressed her son : " My dear, my impetuous boy, and have I detained you here a prisoner so long?" " My own inclination detained me, mother. I leave you not to others until you are up and well again." "That, Philip, I shall never be. I feel that death claims me ; and oh, my son, were it not for you, how should I quit this world rejoicing ! I have long been dying, Philip and long, long have I prayed for death." " And why so, mother ? " replied Philip bluntly ; " I've done my best." " You have, my child, you have : and may God bless you for it. Often have I seen you curb your fiery temper restrain yourself when justified in wrath to spare a mother's feelings. 'Tis now some days that even hunger has not persuaded you to disobey your mother. And, Philip, you must have thought me mad or foolish to insist so long, and yet to give no reason. I'll speak again directly." The widow turned her head upon the pillow, and remained quiet for some minutes ; then, as if revived, she resumed : " I believe I have been mad at times have I not, Philip ? And God knows I have had a secret in my heart enough to drive a wife to frenzy. It has oppressed me day and night, worn my mind, impaired my reason, and now, at last, thank Heaven ! it has overcome this mortal frame : the blow is struck, Philip I'm sure it is. I wait but to tell you all and yet I would not 'twill turn your brain as it has turned mine, Philip." " Mother," replied Philip earnestly, " I conjure you, let me THE PHANTOM SHIP . . hear this killing secret. Be heaven or hell mixed up with it, I fear not. Heaven will not hurt me, and Satan I defy." "I know thy bold, proud spirit, Philip thy strength of mind. If any one could bear the load of such a dreadful tale, thou couldst. My brain, alas ! was far too weak for it ; and I see it is my duty to tell it to thee." The widow paused as her thoughts reverted to that which she had to confide ; for a few minutes the tears ruined down her hollow cheeks ; she then appeared to have summoned resolution, and to have regained strength. " Philip, it is of your father I would speak. It is supposed that he was drowned at sea." " And was he not, mother ? " replied Philip, with surprise. " Oh no ! " " But he has long been dead, mother ? " No yes and yet no," said the widow, covering her eyes. Her brain wanders, thought Philip, but he spoke again : " Then where is he, mother ? " The widow raised herself, and a tremor visibly ran through her whole frame, as she replied " IN LIVING JUDGMENT." The poor woman then sank down again upon the pillow, and covered her head with the bedclothes, as if she would have hid herself from her own memory. Philip was so much per- plexed and astounded, that he could make no reply. A silence of some minutes ensued, when, no longer able to bear the agony of suspense, Philip faintly whispered "The secret, mother, the secret ; quick, let me hear it." " I can now tell all, Philip," replied his mother, in a solemn tone of voice. " Hear me, my son. Your father's disposition was but too like your own ; oh, may his cruel fate be a lesson to you, my dear, dear child ! He was a bold, a daring, and, they say, a first-rate seaman. He was not born here, but in Amsterdam ; but he would not live there, because he still adhered to the Catholic religion. The Dutch, you know, Philip, are heretics, according to our creed. It is now seventeen years or more that he sailed for India, in his fine ship the Amsterdammer, with a valuable cargo, It was his third voyage to India, Philip, and it was to have been, if it had so pleased God, his last, for he had purchased that good ship irith only part of his earnings, and one more voyage would THE PHANTOM SHIP have made his fortune. Oh ! how often did we talk over what we would do upon his return, and how these plans for the future consoled me at the idea of his absence, for I loved him dearly, Philip, he was always good and kind to me ! and after he had sailed, how I hoped for his return ! The lot of a sailor's wife is not to be envied. Alone and solitary for so many months, watching the long wick of the candle, and listening to the howling of the wind foreboding evil and accident wreck and widowhood. He had been gone about six months, Philip, and there was still a long drear)' year to wait before I could expect him back. One night, you, my child, were fast asleep; you were my only solace my comfort in my loneliness. I had been watching over you in your slumbers : you smiled and half pronounced the name of mother ; and at last I kissed your unconscious lips, and I knelt and prayed prayed for God's blessing on you, my child, and upon him too little thinking at the time that he was so horribly, so fearfully CURSED." The widow paused for breath, and then resumed. Philip could not speak. His lips were sundered, and his eyes riveted upon his mother, as he devoured her words. " I left you and went downstairs into that room, Philip, which since that dreadful night has never been reopened. I sate me down and read, for the wind was strong, and when the gale blows, a sailor's wife can seldom sleep. It was past mid- night, and the rain poured down. I felt unusual fear I knew not why. I rose from the couch and dipped my finger in the blessed water, and I crossed myself. A violent gust of wind roared round the house, and alarmed me still more. I hud a painful, horrible foreboding ; when, of a sudden, the windows and window-shutters were all blown in, the light was extin- guished, and I was left in utter darkness. I screamed with fright ; but at last I recovered myself, and was proceeding towards the window that I might reclose it, when whom should I behold, slowly entering at the casement, but your father, Philip ! Yes, Philip, it was your father ! " " Merciful God ! " muttered Philip, in a low tone almost subdued into a whisper " I knew not what to think, he was in the room ; and although the darkness was intense, his form and features were as clear and as defined as it it were noonday. Fear would 8 THE PHANTOM SHIP have inclined me to recoil from, his loved presence to fly towards him. I remained on the spot where I was, choked with agonising sensations. When he had entered the room, the windows and shutters closed of themselves, and the candle was relighted then I thought it was his apparition, and I fainted on the floor. " When I recovered, I found myself on the couch, and per- ceived that a cold (oh, how cold !) and dripping hand was clasped in mine. This reassured me, and I forgot the super- natural signs which accompanied his appearance. I imagined that he had been unfortunate, and had returned home. I opened my eyes, and beheld my loved husband and threw myself into his arms. His clothes were saturated with the rain : I felt as if I had embraced ice but nothing can check the warmth of a woman's love, Philip. He received my caresses, but he caressed not again : he spoke not, but looked thought- ful and unhappy. 'William William,' cried I ; 'speak, Van- derdecken, speak to your dear Catherine/ " ' I will/ replied he solemnly, ' for my time is short/ " f No, no, you must not go to sea again : you have lost your vessel, but you are safe. Have I not you again ? ' " ' Alas ! no be not alarmed, but listen, for my time is short. I have not lost my vessel, Catherine, BUT I HAVE LOST Make no reply, but listen; I am not dead, nor ye$ am I alive. I hover between this world and the world of spirits. Mark me. " ' For nine weeks did I try to force my passage against the elements round the stormy Cape, but without success ; and I swore terribly. For nine weeks more did I carry sail against the adverse winds and currents, and yet could gain no ground ; and then I blasphemed ay, terribly blasphemed. Yet still I persevered. The crew, worn out with long fatigue, would have had me return to the Table Bay ; but I refused ; nay, more, I became a murderer unintentionally, it is true, but still a mur- derer. The pilot opposed me, and persuaded the men to bind me, and in the excess of my fury, when he took me by the collar, I struck at him ; he reeled ; and, with the sudden lurch of the vessel, he fell overboard, and sank. Even this fearful death did not restrain me ; and I swore by the fragment of the Holy Cross preserved in that relic now hanging round your neck, that I would gain my point in defiance of storm and seas, of lightning, 10 THE PHANTOM SHIP of heaven, or of hell, even if I should beat about until the Day of Judgment " ' My oath was registered in thunder, and in streams of sulphurous fire. The hurricane burst upon the ship, the canvas fiew away in ribbons ; mountains of seas swept over us, and in the centre of a deep o'erhanging cloud, which shrouded all in utter darkness, were written in letters of livid flame, these words UNTIL THE DAY OF JUDGMENT ! " ' Listen to me, Catherine, my time is short. One Hope alone remains, and for this am I permitted to come here. Take this letter.' He put a sealed paper on the table. ' Read it, Catherine, dear, and try if you can assist me. Read it, and now farewell my time is come.' " Again the window and window-shutters burst open again the light was extinguished, and the form of mv husband was, as it were, wafted in the dark expanse. I started up and followed him with outstretched arms and frantic screams as he sailed through the window ; my glaring eyes beheld his form borne away like lightning on the wings of the wild gale, till it was lost as a speck of light, and then it disappeared. Again the windows closed, the light burned, and I was left alone ! " Heaven, have mercy ! My brain ! my brain ! Philip ! Philip!" shrieked the poor woman ; "don't leave me don't don't, pray don't ! " During these exclamations the frantic widow had raised herself from the bed, and, at the last, had fallen into the arms of her son. She remained there some minutes without motion. After a time Philip felt alarmed at her long quiescence ; he laid her gently down upon the bed, and as he did so her head fell back her eyes were turned the widow Vanderdecken was no more. CHAPTER II PHILIP VANDERDECKEN, strong as he was in mental courage, was almost paralysed by the shock when he discovered that his mother's spirit had fled ; and for some time he remained by the side of the bed, with his eyes fixed upon the corpse, and his mind in a state of vacuity. Gradually he recovered himself; he rose, smoothed down the pillow, closed her eye- 11 THE PHANTOM SHIP lids, and then clasping his hands, the tears trickled down his manly cheeks. He impressed a solemn kiss upon the pale white forehead of the departed, and drew the curtains round the bed. " Poor mother ! " said he sorrowfully, as he completed his task, " at length thou hast found rest, but thou hast left thy son a bitter legacy." And as Philip's thoughts reverted to what had passed, the dreadful narrative whirled in his imagination and scathed his brain. He raised his hands to his temples, compressed them with force, and tried to collect his thoughts, that he might decide upon what measures he should take. He felt that he had no time to indulge his grief. His mother was in peace : but his father where was he ? He recalled his mother's words "One hope alone re- mained." Then, there was hope. His father had laid a paper on the table could it be there now? Yes, it must be; his mother had not had the courage to take it up. There was hope in that paper, and it had lain unopened for more than seventeen years. Philip Vanderdecken resolved that he would examine the fatal chamber at once he would know the worst. Should he do it now, or wait till daylight ? But the key, where was it ? His eyes rested upon an old japanned cabinet in the room : he had never seen his mother open it in his presence : it was the only likely place of concealment that he was aware of. Prompt in all his decisions, he took up the candle, and pro- ceeded to examine it. It was not locked ; the doors swung open, and drawer after drawer was examined, but Philip dis- covered not the object of his search ; again and again did he open the drawers, but they were all empty. It occurred to Philip that there might be secret drawers, and he examined for some time in vain. At last he took out all the drawers, and laid them on the floor, and lifting the cabinet off its stand he shook it. A rattling sound in one corner told him that in all probability the key was there concealed. He renewed his attempts to discover how to gain it, but in vain. Daylight now streamed through the casements, and Philip had not desisted from his attempts. At last, wearied out, he resolved to force the back panel of the cabinet ; he descended to the kitchen, and returned with a small chopping-knife and hammer, and was 12 THE PHANTOM SHIP on his knees busily employed forcing out the panel, when ft hand was placed upon his shoulder. Philip started : he had been so occupied with his search and his wild chasing thoughts, that he had not heard the sound of an approaching footstep. He looked up and beheld the Father Seysen, the priest of the little parish, with his eyes sternly fixed upon him. The good man had been informed of the dangerous state of the widow Vanderdecken, and had risen at daylight to visit and afford her spiritual comfort. " How now, my son," said the priest ; "fearest thou not to disturb thy mother's rest ? and wouldst thou pilfer and purloin even before she is in her grave ? " " I fear not to disturb my mother's rest, good father," replied Philip, rising on his feet, " for she now rests with the blessed. Neither do I pilfer nor purloin. It is not gold I seek, although if gold there were, that gold would now be mine. I seek but a key, long hidden, I believe, within this secret drawer, the opening of which is a mystery beyond my art." "Thy mother is no more, sayest thou, my son? and dead without receiving the rites of our most holy Church ! Why didst thou not send for me ? " "She died, good father, suddenly, most suddenly, in these arms, about two hours ago. I fear not for her soul, although I can but grieve you were not at her side." The priest gently opened the curtains, and looked upon the corpse. He sprinkled holy water on the bed, and for a short time his lips were seen to move in silent prayer. He then turned round to Philip. "Why do I see thee thus employed? and why so anxious to obtain that key ? A mother's death should call forth filial tears and prayers for her repose. Yet are thine eyes dry, and thou art employed upon an indifferent search while yet the tenement is warm which but now held her spirit. This is not seemly, Philip. What is the key thou seekest ? " " Father, I have no time for tears no time to spare for grief or lamentation. I have much to do and more to think of than thought can well embrace. That I loved my mother, you. know well." " But the key thou seekest, Philip ? " " Father, it is the key of a chamber which has not been unlocked for years, which I must will open even if " 13 THE PHANTOM SHIP "If what, my son?" " I was about to say what I should not have said. Forgive me, father ; I meant that I must search that chamber." " I have long heard of that same chamber being closed ; and that thy mother would not explain wherefore, I know well, for I have asked her, and have been denied. Nay, when as in duty bound I pressed the question, I found her reason was disordered by my importunity, and therefore I abandoned the attempt. Some heavy weight was on thy mother's mind, my son, yet would she never confess or trust it with me. Tell me, before she died, hadst thou this secret from her ? " " I had, most holy father." " Wouldst thou not feel comfort if thou didst confide to me, my son ? I might advise, assist "Father,.! would indeed I conld confide it to thee, and ask for thy assistance I know 'tis not from curious feeling thou wouldst have it, but from a better motive. But of that which has been told it is not yet manifest whether it is as my poor mother says, or but the phantom of a heated brain. Should it, indeed, be true, fain would I share the burthen with you-o yet little you might thank me for the heavy load. But no at least not now it must not, cannot be revealed. I must do my work enter that hated room alone.". " Fearest thou not ? " "Father, I fear nothing. I have a duty to perform a dreadful one, I grant ; but I pray thee, ask no more ; for, like my poor mother, I feel as if the probing of the wound would half unseat my reason." " I will not press thee further, Philip. The time may come when I may prove of service. Farewell, my child ; but I pray thee to discontinue thy unseemly labour, for I must send in the neighbours to perform the duties to thy departed mother, whose soul I trust is with its God." The priest looked at Philip; he perceived that his thoughts were elsewhere; there was a vacancy and appearance of mental stupefaction, and as he turned away, the good man shook his head. " He is right," thought Philip, when once more alone ; and he took up the cabinet, and placed it upon the stand. " A few hours more can make no difference : I will lay me down, for my head is giddy." 14 THE PHANTOM SHIP Philip went into the adjoining room, threw himself upon his bed, and in a few minutes was in a sleep as sound as that permitted to the wretch a few hours previous to his execution. During his slumbers the neighbours had come in, and had prepared everything for the widow's interment. They had been careful not to wake the son, for they held as sacred the sleep of those who must wake up to sorrow. Among others, soon after the hour of noon, arrived Mynheer Foots ; he had been informed of the death of the widow, but having a spare hour, he thought he might as well call, as it would raise his charges by another guilder. He first went into the room where the body lay, and from thence he proceeded to the chamber of Philip, and shook him by the shoulder. Philip awoke, and, sitting up, perceived the doctor standing by him. " Well, Mynheer Vanderdecken," commenced the unfeeling little man, " so it's all over. I knew it would be so ; and re- collect you owe me now another guilder, and you promised faithfully to pay me; altogether, with the potion, it will be three guilders and a half that is, provided you return my phial." Philip, who at first waking was confused, gradually recovered his senses during this address. "You shall have your three guilders, and a half, and your phial to boot, Mr. Poots," replied he, as he rose from off the bed. " Yes, yes ; I know you mean to pay me if you can. But look you, Mynheer Philip, it may be some time before you sell the cottage. You may not find a customer. Now, I never wish to be hard upon people who have no money, and I'll tell you what I'll do. There is a something on your mother's neck. It is of no value none at all, but to a good Catholic. To help you in your strait, I will take that thing, and then we shall be quits. You will have paid me, and there will be an end of it." Philip listened calmly : he knew to what the little miser had referred the relic on his mother's neck ; that very relic upon which his father swore the fatal oath. He felt that millions of guilders would not have induced him to part with it. " Leave the house," answered he abruptly. " Leave it immediately. Your money shall be paid." Now, Mynheer Poots, in the first place, knew that the 15 THE PHANTOM SHIP setting of the relic, which was a square frame of pure gold, was worth much more than the sum due to him : he also knew that a large price had been paid for the relic itself, and as at that time such a relic was considered very valuable, he had no doubt but that it would again fetch a considerable sura. Tempted by the sight of it when he entered the chamber of death, he had taken it from the neck of the corpse, and it was then actually concealed in his bosom ; so he replied " My offer is a good one, Mynheer Philip, and you had better take it. Of what use is such trash ? " " I tell you no," cried Philip, in a rage. "Well then, you will let me have it in my possession till I am paid, Mynheer Vanderdecken that is but fair. I must not lose my money. When you bring me my three guilders and a half and the phial, I will return it to you." Philip's indignation was now without bounds. He seized Mynheer Poots by the collar, and threw him out of the door. "Away immediately," cried he, "or by " There was no occasion for Philip to finish the imprecation. The doctor had hastened away with such alarm, that he fell down half the steps of the staircase, and was limping away across the bridge. He almost wished that the relic had not been in his possession ; but his sudden retreat had prevented him, even if so inclined, from replacing it on the corpse. The result of this conversation naturally turned Philip's thoughts to the relic, and he went into his mother's room to take possession of it. He opened the curtains the corpse was laid out he put forth his hand to untie the black ribbon.' It was not there. " Gone ! " exclaimed Philip. " They hardly would have removed it never would It must be that villain Poots wretch ! but I will have it, even if he has swallowed it, though I tear him limb from limb ! " Philip darted down the stairs, rushed out of the house, cleared the moat at one bound, and, without coat or hat, flew away in the direction of the doctor's lonely residence. The neighbours saw him as he passed them like the wind ; they wondered, and they shook their heads. Mynheer Poots wa$ not more than half-way to his home, for he had hurt his ankle. Apprehensive of what might possibly take place, should his theft be discovered, he occasionally looked behind him ; nt length, to his horror, he beheld Philip Vand,en}ecken. at a THE PHANTOM SHIP distance, bounding on in pursuit of him. Frightened almost out of his senses, the wretched pilferer hardly knew how to act : to stop and surrender up the stolen property was his first thought, but fear of Vanderdecken's violence prevented him ; so he decided on taking to his heels, thus hoping to gain his house, and barricade himself in, by which means he would be in a condition to keep possession of what he had stolen, or at least make some terms ere he restored it. Mynheer Foots had need to run fast, and so he did, his thin legs bearing his shrivelled form rapidly over the ground ; but Philip, who, when he witnessed the doctor's attempt to escape, was fully convinced that he was the culprit, redoubled his exertions, and rapidly came up with the chase. When within a hundred yards of his own door, Mynheer Poots heard the bounding steps of Philip gain upon him, and he sprang and leaped in his agony. Nearer and nearer still the steps, until at last he heard the very breathing of his pursuer ; and Poots shrieked in his fear, like the hare in the jaws of the greyhound. Philip was not a yard from him ; his arm was outstretched, when the miscreant dropped down paralysed with terror ; and the impetus of Vanderdecken was so great, that he passed over his body, tripped, and after trying in vain to recover his equilibrium, he fell and rolled over and over. This saved the little doctor; it was like the double of a hare. In a second he was again on his legs, and before Philip could rise and again exert his speed, Poots had entered his door and bolted it within. Philip was, however, determined to repossess the important treasure ; and as he panted, he cast his eyes around to see if any means offered for his forcing his entrance into the house. But as the habitation of the doctor was lonely, every precaution had been taken by him to render it secure against robbery ; the windows below were well barricaded and secured, and those on the upper storey were too high for any one to obtain admittance by them. We must here observe, that although Mynheer Poots was, from his known abilities, in good practice, his reputation as a hard-hearted, unfeeling miser was well established. No one was ever permitted to enter his threshold, nor, indeed, did any one feel inclined. He was as isolated from his fellow-creatures as was his tenement, and was only to be seen in the chamber ?f disease and death. What his establishment consisted of 11 THE PHANTOM SHIP no one knew. When he first settled in the neighbourhood, an old decrepit woman occasionally answered the knocks given at the door by those who required the doctor's services ; but she had been buried some time, and ever since all calls at the door had been answered by Mynheer Foots in person, if he were at home, and if not, there was no reply to the most im- portunate summons. It was then surmised that the old man lived entirely by himself, being too niggardly to pay for any assistance. This Philip also imagined ; and as soon as he had recovered his breath, he began to devise some scheme by which he would be enabled not only to recover the stolen property, but also to wreak a dire revenge. The door was strong, and not to be forced by any means which presented themselves to the eye of Vanderdecken. For a few minutes he paused to consider, and as he reflected, so did his anger cool down, and he decided that it would be suffi- cient to recover his relic, without having recourse to violence. So he called out in a loud voice " Mynheer Foots, I know that you can hear me. Give me back what you have taken, and I will do you no hurt ; but if you will not, you must take the consequence, for your life shall pay the forfeit before I leave this spot." This speech was indeed very plainly heard by Mynheer Foots, but the little miser had recovered from his fright, and thinking himself secure, could not make up his mind to sur- render the relic without a struggle ; so the doctor answered not, hoping that the patience of Philip would be exhausted, and that by some arrangement, such as the sacrifice of a few guilders, no small matter to one so needy as Philip, he would be able to secure what he was satisfied would sell at a high price. Vanderdecken, finding that no answer was returned, in- dulged in strong invective, and then decided upon measures certainly in themselves by no means undecided. There was part of a small stack of dry fodder standing not far from the house, and under the wall a pile of wood for firing. With these Vanderdecken resolved upon setting fire to the house, and thus, if he did not gain his relic, he would at least obtain ample revenge. He brought several armfuls of fodder and laid them at the door of the house, and upon that he piled the faggots and logs of wood, until the door was 18 THE PHANTOM SHIP quite concealed by them. He then procured a light from the steel, flint, and tinder, which every Dutchman carries in his pocket, and very soon he had fanned the pile into a flame. The smoke ascended in columns up to the rafters of the roof, while the fire raged below. The door was ignited, and was adding to the fury of the flames, and Philip shouted with joy at the success of his attempt. " Now, miserable despoiler of the dead now, wretched thief, now you shall feel my vengeance," cried Philip, with a loud voice. " If you remain within you perish in the flames ; if you attempt to come out you shall die by my hands. Do you hear, Mynheer Poots do you hear ? " Hardly had Philip concluded this address, when the window of the upper floor furthest from the burning door was thrown open. " Ay, you come now to beg and to entreat ; but no no," cried Philip, who stopped as he beheld at the window what seemed to be an apparition, for, instead of the wretched little miser, he beheld one of the loveliest forms Nature ever deigned to mould an angelic creature, of about sixteen or seventeen, who appeared calm and resolute in the midst of the danger by which she was threatened. Her long black hair was braided and twined round her beautifully formed head ; her eyes were large, intensely dark, yet soft ; her forehead high and \vhite, her chin dimpled, her rubv lips arched and delicately fine, her nose small and straight. A lovelier face could not be well imagined ; it reminded you of what the best of painters have sometimes, in their more fortunate moments, succeeded in embodying, when they would represent a beautiful saint. And as the flames wreathed, and the smoke burst out in columns and swept past the window, so might she have reminded you in her calmness of demeanour of some martyr at the stake. " What wouldst thou, violent young man ? Why are the inmates of this house to suffer death by your means?" said the maiden, with composure. For a few seconds Philip gazed, and could make no reply ; then the thought seized him that, in his vengeance, he was about to sacrifice so much loveliness. He forgot everything but her danger, and seizing one of the large poles which he had brought to feed the flame, he threw off and scattered in 19 THE PHANTOM SHIP ev^ry direction the burning masses, until nothing was left which could hurt the building but the ignited door itself; and this, which as yet for it was of thick oak plank had not suffered very material injury, he soon reduced, by beat- ing it with clods of earth, to a smoking and harmless state. During these active measures on the part of Philip, the young maiden watched him in silence. " All is safe now, young lady," said Philip. " God forgive me that I should have risked a life so precious. I thought but to wreak my vengeance upon Mynheer Poots." " And what cause can Mynheer Poots have given for such dreadful vengeance ? " replied the maiden calmly. " What cause, young lady ? He came to my house despoiled the dead took from my mother's corpse a relic beyond price." " Despoiled the dead ! he surely cannot you must wrong him, young sir." " No, no. It is the fact, lady ; and that relic forgive me but that relic I must have. You know not what depends upon it." " Wait, young sir," replied the maiden ; " I will soon re- turn." Philip waited several minutes, lost in thought and admira- tion : so fair a creature in the house of Mynheer Poots ! Who could she be ? While thus ruminating lie was accosted by the silver voice of the object of his reveries, who, leaning out of the window, held in her hand the black ribbon to which was attached the article so dearly coveted. " Here is your relic, sir," said the young female; "I regret much that my father should have done a deed which well might justify your anger: but here it is," continued she, dropping it down on the ground by Philip; "and now you may depart." " Your father, maiden ! can he be your father ? " said Philip, forgetting to tike up the relic which lay at his feet. She would have retired from the window without reply, but Philip spoke again (C Stop, lady, stop one moment, until I beg your forgiveness for my wild, foolish act. I swear by this sacred relic," con- tinued he, taking it from the ground and raising it to his lips, " that had I known that any unoffending person had been in 20 THE PHANTOM SHIP this house I would not have done the deed, and much do I rejoice that no harm hath happened. But there is still danger, lady ; the door must be unbarred, and the jambs, which still are glowing, be extinguished, or the house may yet be burnt. Fear not for your father, maiden ; for had he done me a thousand times more wrong, you will protect each hair upon his head. He knows me well enough to know I keep my word. Allow me to repair the injury I have occa- sioned, and then I will depart." " No, no ; don't trust him," said Mynheer Foots from within the chamber. "Yes, he may be trusted," replied the daughter; "and his services are much needed ; for what could a poor weak girl like me, and a still weaker father, do in this strait ? Open the door, and let the house be made secure." The maiden then addressed Philip " He shall open the door, sir, and I Will thank you for your kind service. I trust entirely to your promise. ' " I never yet was known to break my word, maiden," replied Philip; "but let him be quick, for the flames are bursting out again." The door was opened by the trembling hands of Mynheer Poots, who then made a hasty retreat upstairs. The truth of what Philip had said was then apparent. Many were the buckets of water which he was obliged to fetch before the fire was subdued; but during his exertions neither the daughter nor the father made their appearance. When all was safe Philip closed the door, and again looked up at the window. The fair girl made her appearance, and Philip, with a low obeisance, assured her that there was then no danger. " I thank you, sir," replied she " I thank you much. Your conduct, although hasty at first, has yet been most considerate. " " Assure your father, maiden, that all animosity on my part hath ceased, and that in a few days I will call and satisfy the demand he hath against me." The window closed, and Philip, more excited, but with feelings altogether different from those with which he had set out, looked at it for a minute, and then bent his steps to his own cottage. 21 THE PHANTOM SHIP CHAPTER III JL HE discovery of the beautiful daughter of Mynheer Foots had made a strong impression upon Philip Vanderdecken, and now he had another excitement to combine with those which already overcharged his bosom. He arrived at his own house, went upstairs, and threw himself on the bed from which he had been roused by Mynheer Foots. At first he recalled to his mind the scene we have just described, painted in his imagination the portrait of the fair girl, her eyes, her expres- sion, her silver voice, and the words which she had uttered ; but her pleasing image was soon chased away by the recollec- tion that his mother's corpse lay in the adjoining chamber, and that his father's secret was hidden in the room below. The funeral was to take place the next morning, and Philip, who, since his meeting with the daughter of Mynheer Foots, appeared even to himself not so anxious for immediate examination of the room, resolved that he would not open it until after the melancholy ceremony. With this resolution he fell asleep ; and, exhausted with bodily and mental excite- ment, he did not wake until the next morning, when he was summoned by the priest to assist at the funeral rites. In an hour all was over ; the crowd dispersed, and Philip, returning to the cottage, bolted the door that he might not be inter- rupted, and felt happy that he was alone. There is a feeling in our nature which will arise when we again find ourselves in the tenement where death has been, and all traces of it have been removed. It is a feeling of satisfaction and relief at having rid ourselves of the memento of mortality, the silent evidence of the futility of our pursuits and anticipations. We know that we must one day die, but we always wish to forget it. The continual remembrance would be too great a check upon our mundane desires and wishes ; and although we are told that we ever should have futurity in our thoughts, we find that life is not to be enjoyed if we are not permitted occasional forgetful ness. For who would plan what rarely he is permitted to execute, if each moment of the day he thought of death ? We either hope that we may live longer than others, or we forget that we may not. 22 THE PHANTOM SHIP If this buoyant feeling had not been planted in cur naturCj how little would the world have been improved, even from the deluge ! Philip walked into the room where his mother had lain one short hour before, and unwittingly felt relief. Taking down the cabinet, he now recommenced his task ; the back panel was soon removed, and a secret drawer discovered ; he drew it out, and it contained what he presumed to be the object of his search a large key with a slight coat of rust upon it, which came off' upon its being handled. Under the key was a paper, the writing on which was somewhat discoloured : it was in his mother's hand, and ran as follows : "It is now two nights since a horrible event took place which has induced me to close the lower chamber,, and my brain is still bursting with terror. Should I not, during my lifetime, reveal what occurred, still this key will be required, as at my death the room will be opened. When I rushed from it I hastened upstairs, and remained that night with my child ; the next morning I summoned up sufficient courage to go down, turn the key, and bring it up into my chamber. It is now closed till I close my eyes in death. No privation, no suffering, shall induce me to open it, although in the iron cupboard under the buffet farthest from the window, there is money sufficient for all my wants; that money will remain there for my child, to whom, if I do not impart the fatal secret, he must be satisfied that it is one which it were better should be concealed one so horrible as to induce me to take the steps which I now do. The keys of the cupboards and buffets were, I think, lying on the table, or in my workbox, when I quitted the room. There is a letter on the table, at least I think so. It is sealed. Let not the seal be broken but by my son, and not by him unless he knows the secret. Let it be burnt by the priest, for it is cursed ; and even should my son know all that I do, oh ! let him pause let him reflect well before he breaks the seal ; for 'twere better he should know NO MORE ! " " Net know more ! " thought Philip, as his eyes were still fixed upon the paper. "Yes, but I must and will know more ! so forgive me, dearest mother, if I waste no time in reflec- tion. It would be but time thrown away, when one L resolved as I am." 23 THE PHANTOM SHIP Philip pressed his lips to his mother's signature, folded up the paper, and put it into his pocket ; then taking the key he proceeded downstairs. It was about noon when Philip descended to open the chamber; the sun shone bright, the sky was clear, and all without was cheerful and joyous. The front door of the cottage being closed, there was not much light in the passage when Philip put the key into the lock of the long-closed door, and with some difficulty turned it round. To say that when he pushed open the door he felt no alarm would not be correct ; he did feel alarm, and his heart palpitated ; but he felt more than was requisite of determination to conquer that alarm, and to conquer more, should more be created by what he should behold. He opened the door, but did not immediately enter the room : he paused where he stood, for he felt as if he was about to intrude into the retreat of a disembodied spirit, and that that spirit might reappear. He waited a minute, for the effort of opening the door had taken away his breath, and, as he recovered himself, he looked within. He could but imperfectly distinguish the objects in the chamber, but through the joints of the shutters there were three brilliant beams of sunshine forcing their way across the room, which at first induced him to recoil as if from something supernatural ; but a little reflection reassured him. After about a minute's pause, Philip went into the kitchen, lighted a candle, and, sighing deeply two or three times as if to relieve his heart, he summoned his resolution and walked towards the fatal room. He first stopped at the threshold, and by the light of the candle took a hasty survey. All was still ; and the table on which the letter had been left, being behind the door, was concealed by its being opened. It must be done, thought Philip : and why not at once ? continued he, resuming his courage ; and with a firm step he walked into the room and went to unfasten the shutters. If his hands trembled a little when he called to mind how supernaturally they had last been opened, it is not surprising. We are but mortal, and we shrink from contact with aught beyond this life. When the fastenings were removed and the shutters unfolded, a stream of light poured into the room so vivid as to dazzle his eyesight; Strange to say, this very light of a brilliant day overthrew thQ resolution of Philip more than the previous gloom and darknesj THE PHANTOM SHIP had done ; and with the candle in his hand he retreated hastily into the kitchen to resummon his courage, and there he remained for some minutes, with his face covered, and in deep thought. It is singular that his reveries at last ended by reverting to the fair daughter of Mynheer Foots, and her first appearance at the window ; and he felt as if the flood of light which had just driven him from the one, was not more impressive and startling than her enchanting form at the other. His mind dwelling upon the beauteous vision appeared to restore Philip's confidence ; he now rose and boldly walked into the room. We shall not describe the objects it contained as they chanced to meet the eyes of Philip, but attempt a more lucid arrangement. The room was about twelve or fourteen feet square, with but one window ; opposite to the door stood the chimney and fireplace, with a high buffet of dark wood on each side. The floor of the room was not dirty, although about its upper parts spiders had run their cobwebs in every direction. In the centre of the ceiling hung a quicksilver globe, a common ornament in those days, but the major part of it had lost its brilliancy, the spiders' webs enclosing it like a shroud. Over the chimney-piece were hung two or three drawings framed and glazed, but a dusty mildew was spotted over the glass, so that little of them could be distinguished. In the centre of the mantelpiece was an image of the Virgin Mary, of pure silver, in a shrine of the same metal, but it was tarnished to the colour of bronze or iron ; some Indian figures stood on each side of it. The glass door of the buffets on each side of the chimney-piece were also so dimmed that little of what was within could be distinguished ; the light and heat which had been poured into the room, even for so short a time, had already gathered up the damp of many years, and it lay as a mist, and mingled with the dust, upon the panes of glass : still here and there a glittering of silver vessels could be discerned, for the glass doors had protected them from turning black, although much dimmed in lustre. On the wall facing the window were other prints, :n frames equally veiled in damp and cobwebs, and also two bird-cages. The bird-cages Philip approached, and looked into them. The occupants, of course, had long been dead ; but at the THE PHANTOM SHIP bottom of the cages was a small heap of yellow feathers, through which the little white bones of the skeletons were to be seen, proving that they had been brought from the Canary Isles : and at that period such birds were highly valued. Philip appeared to wish to examine everything before he sought that which he most dreaded, yet most wished to find. There were several chairs round the room : on one of them was some linen : he took it up. It was some that must have belonged to him when he was yet a child. At last Philip turned his eyes to the wall not yet examined (that opposite the chimney-piece), through which the door was pierced, and behind the door as it lay open, he was to find the table, the couch, the workbox, and the FATAL LETTER. As he turned round, his pulse, which had graduallv recovered its regular motion, beat more quickly ; but he made the effort, and it was over. At first he exa- mined the walls, against which were hung swords and pistols of various sorts, but chieHy Asiatic bows and arrows, and other implements of destruction. Philip's eyes gradually descended upon the table and little couch behind it, where his mother stated herself to have been seated when his father made his awful visit. The workbox and all its im- plements were on the table, just as she had left them. The keys she mentioned were also lying there, but Philip looked, and looked again ; there was no letter. He now advanced nearer, examined closely there was none that he could perceive, either on the couch or on the table, or on the floor. He lifted up the workbox to ascertain if it was be- neath but no. He examined among its contents, but no letter was there. He turned over the pillows of the couch, but still there was no letter to be found. And Philip felt as if there had been a heavy load removed from his panting chest. " Surely then," thought he, as he leant against the wall, " this must have been the vision of a heated imagina- tion. My poor mother must have fallen asleep, and dreamt this horrid tale. I thought it was impossible, at least I hoped so. It must have been as I suppose ; the dream was too powerful, too like a fearful reality partially unseated my poor mother's reason." Philip reflected again, and was then satisfied that his suppositions were correct. " Yes, it must have been so, poor dear mother ! how much 26 THE PHANTOM SHIP thou hast suffered ; but thou art now rewarded, and with God." After a few minutes (during which he surveyed the room again and again with more coolness, and perhaps some in- difference, now that he regarded the supernatural history as not true), Philip took out of his pocket the written paper found with the key, and read it over. " The iron cupboard under the buffet furthest from the window." " 'Tis well." He took the bunch of keys from off the table, and soon fitted one to the outside wooden doors which concealed the iron safe. A second key on the bunch opened the iron doors ; and Philip found himself in possession of a con- siderable sum of money, amounting, as near as he could reckon, to ten thousand guilders, in little yellow sacks. " My poor mother ! " thought he ; " and has a mere ilream scared thee to penury and want, with all this ivealth in thy possession?" Philip replaced the sacks, and locked up the cupboards, after having taken out of one, nlready half emptied, a few pieces for his immediate wants. iSis attention was next directed to the buffets above, which, itrith one of the keys, he opened ; he found that they con- tained china, silver flagons, and cups of considerable value. The locks were again turned, and the bunch of keys thrown ipon the table. The sudden possession of so much wealth, added to the tonviction, to which Philip had now arrived, that there had been no supernatural appearance, as supposed, by his mother, naturally revived and composed his spirits ; and he felt a reaction which amounted almost to hilarity. Seating himself Dn the couch he was soon in a reverie, and as before reverted to the lovely daughter of Mynheer Poots, indulging in various castle-buildings, all ending, as usual when we choose for our- selves, in competence and felicity. In this pleasing occupation he remained for more than two hours, when his thoughts again reverted to his poor mother and her fearful death. " Dearest, kindest mother ! " apostrophised Philip aloud, as he rose from his leaning position, " here thou wert, tired with watching over my infant slumbers, thinking of my absent father and his dangers, working up thy mind and anticipating evil, till thy fevered sleep conjured up this apparition. Yes, it have been so, for see here, lying on the floor is the em- 27 THE PHANTOM SHIP broidery as it fell from thy unconscious hands, and with that labour ceased thy happiness in this life. Dear, dear mother ! " continued he, a tear rolling down his cheek as he stooped to pick up the piece of muslin, " how much hast thou suffered when God of Heaven ! " exclaimed Philip, as he lifted up the embroidery, starting back with violence, and overturning the table, " God of Heaven, anil of Judgment, there is there is," and Philip clasped his hands, and bowed his head in awe and anguish, as in a changed and fearful tone he muttered forth " the LETTER ! " It was but too true, underneath the embroidery on the floor had lain the fatal letter of Vanderdecken. Had Philip seen it on the table when he first went into the room, and was prepared to find it, he would have taken it up with some degree of composure ; but to find it now, when he had per- suaded himself that it was all an illusion on the part of his mother ; when he had made up his mind that there had been no supernatural agency ; after he had been indulging in visions of future bliss and repose, was a shock that transfixed him where he stood, and for some time he remained in his attitude of surprise and terror. Down at once fell the airy fabric of happiness which he had built up during the last two hours ; and as he gradually recovered from his alarm, his heart filled with melancholy forebodings. At last he dashed forward, seized the letter, and burst out of the fatal room. " I cannot, dare not, read it here," exclaimed he ; " no, no, it must be under the vault of high and offended Heaven, that the message must be received." Philip took his hat, and went out of the house ; in calm despair he locked the door, took out the key, and walked he knew not whither. CHAPTER IV IF the reader can imagine the feelings of a man who, sentenced to death, and having resigned himself to his fate, finds himself unexpectedly reprieved ; who, having recomposed his mind after the agitation arising from a renewal of those hopes and expectations which he had abandoned, once more dwells upon future prospects, and indulges in pleasing antici< 28 THE PHANTOM SHIP pations : we say, that if the reader can imagine this, and then what would be that man's feelings when he finds that the reprieve is revoked, and that he is to suffer, he may then form some idea of the state of Philip's mind when he quitted the cottage. Long did he walk, careless in which direction, with the letter in his clenched hand, and his teeth firmly set. Gradually he became more composed ; and out of breath with the rapidity of his motion, he sat down upon a bank, and there he long remained, with his eyes riveted upon the dreaded paper, which he held with both his hands upon his knees. Mechanically he turned the letter over; the seal was black. Philip sighed. " I cannot read it now," thought he, and he rose and continued his devious way. For another half-hour did Philip keep in motion, and the sun was not many degrees above the horizon. Philip stopped and looked at it till his vision failed. t( I could imagine that it was the eye of God," thought Philip, "and perhaps it may be. Why, then, merciful Creator, am I thus selected from so many millions to fulfil so dire a task ? " Philip looked about him for some spot where he might be concealed from observation where he might break the seal, and read this missive from a world of spirits. A small copse of brushwood, in advance of a grove of trees, was not far from where he stood. He walked to it, and sat down, so as to be concealed from any passers-by. Philip once more looked at the descending orb of day, and by degrees he became com- posed. " It is thy will," exclaimed he ; " it is my fate, and both must be accomplished." Philip put his hand to the seal his blood thrilled when he called to mind that it had been delivered by no mortal hand, and that it contained the secret of one in judgment. He re- membered that that one was his father ; and that it Mas only in the letter that there was hope hope for his poor father, whose memory he had been taught to love, and who appealed for help. " Coward that I am, to have lost so many hours ! " exclaimed Philip; "yon sun appears as if waiting on the hill to give me light to read." Philip roused a short time ; he was once more the daring THE PHANTOM SHIP Vanderdecken. Calmly he broke the seal, which bore the initials of his father's name, and read as follows : "To CATHERINE. " One of those pitying spirits whose eyes rain tears for mortal crimes has been permitted to inform me by what means alone my dreadful doom may be averted. " Could I but receive on the deck of my own ship the holy relic upon which I swore the fatal oath, kiss it in all humility, and shed one tear of deep contrition on the sacred wood, I then might rest in peace. " How this may be effected, or by whom so fatal a task will be undertaken, I know not. O Catherine, we have a son but, no, no, let him not hear of me. Pray for me, and now, fare- well. I. VANDERDECKEN." "Then it is true, most horribly true," thought Philip; "and my father is even now IN LIVING JUDGMENT. And he points to me to whom else should he ? Am I not his son, and is it not my duty?" " Yes, father," exclaimed Philip aloud, falling on his knees, "you have not written these lines in vain. Let me peruse them once more." Philip raised up his hand ; but although it appeared to him that he had still hold of the letter, it was not there he grasped nothing. He looked on the grass to see if it had fallen ; but no, there was no letter it had disappeared. Was it a vision? no, no, he had read every word. "Then it must be to me, and me alone, that the mission was intended. I accept the sign." "Hear me, dear father if thou art so permitted and deign to hear me, gracious Heaven hear the son who, by this sacred relic, swears that he will avert your doom, or perish. To that will he devote his days; and having done his duty, he will die in hope and peace. Heaven, that recorded my rash father's oath, now register his son's upon the same sacred cross, and may perjury on my part be visited with punishment more dire than his ! Receive it, Heaven, as at the last I trust that in Thy mercy Thou wilt receive the father and the son ! and if too bold, oh pardon my presumption." Philip threw himself forward on his face, with his lips to the 30 THE PHANTOM SHIP sacred symbol. The sun went down and twilight gradually dis- appeared ; night had, for some time, shrouded all in darkness, and Philip yet remained in alternate prayer and meditation. But he was disturbed by the voices of some men, who sat down upon the turf but a few yards from where he was con- cealed. The conversation he little heeded, but it had roused him, and his first feeling was to return to the cottage, that he might reflect over his plans. But although the men spoke in a low tone, his attention was soon arrested by the subject of their conversation, when he heard the name mentioned of Mynheer Poots. He listened attentively, and discovered that they were four disbanded soldiers, who intended that night to attack the house of the little doctor, who had, they knew, much money in his possession. "What I have proposed is the best," said one of them; " he has no one with him but his daughter." " I value her more than his money," replied another ; " so recollect before we go, it is perfectly understood that she is to be my property." " Yes, if you choose to purchase her, there's no objection," replied a third. " Agreed ; how much will you in conscience ask for a puling girl ? " " I say five hundred guilders," replied another. " Well, be it so, but on this condition, that if my share of the booty does not amount to so much, I am to have her for my share, whatever it may be." "That's very fair," replied the other; "but I'm much mis- taken if we don't turn more than two thousand guilders out of the old man's chest." "What do you two say is it agreed shall Baetens have her ? " "Oh yes," replied the others. "Well, then," replied the one who had stipulated for Myn- heer Poots' daughter, " now I am with you, heart and soul. I loved that girl, and tried to get her I positively offered to marry her, but the old hunks refused me, an ensign, an officer ; but now I'll have revenge. We must not spare him." "No, no," replied the others. " Shall we go now, or wait till it is later ? In an hour or more the moon will be up we may be seen." 31 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Who is to see us ? unless, indeed, some one is sent for him. The later the better, I say." " How long will it take us to get there ? Not half-an-hour, if we walk. Suppose we start in half-an-hour hence, we shall just have the moon to count the guilders by." "That's all right. In the meantime I'll put a new flint in my lock, and have my carbine loaded. I can work in the dark." " You are used to it, Jan." " Yes, I am ; and I intend this ball to go through the old rascal's head." " Well, I'd rather you should kill him than I," replied one of the others, " for he saved my life at Middleburgh, when every one made sure I'd die." Philip did not wait to hear any more ; he crawled behind the bushes until he gained the grove of trees, and passing through them, made a detour so as not to be seen by these miscreants. That they were disbanded soldiers, many of whom were infesting the country, he knew well. All his thoughts were now to save the old doctor and his daughter from the danger which threatened them ; and for a time he forgot his father, and the exciting revelations of the day. Although Philip had not been aware in what direction he had walked when he set off from the cottage, he knew the country well ; and now that it was necessary to act, he re- membered the direction in which he should find the lonely house of Mynheer Poots : with the utmost speed he made his way for it, and in less than twenty minutes he arrived there, out of breath. As usual, all was silent, and the door fastened. -Philip knocked, but there was no reply. Again and again he knocked, and became impatient. Mynheer Poots must have been summoned, and was not in the house ; Philip therefore called out so as to be heard within. " Maiden, if your father is out, as I presume he must be, listen to what I have to say I am Philip Vanderdecken. But now I overheard four wretches who have planned to murder your father, and rob him of his gold. In one hour or less they will be here, and I have hastened to warn and to protect you, if I may. I swear upon the relic that you delivered to ire this morning that What I state is true." 32 THE PHANTOM SHIP Philip waited a short time, but received no answer. "Maiden," resumed he, "answer me, if you value that which is more dear to you than even your father's gold to him. Open the casement above, and listen to what I have to say. In so doing there is no risk ; and even if it were not dark, already have I seen you." A short time after this second address, the casement of the upper window was unbarred, and the slight form of the fair daughter of Mynheer Foots was to be distinguished by Philip through the gloom. " What wouldst thou, young sir, at this unseemly hour ? and what is it thou wouldst impart, but imperfectly heard by me, when thou spokest this minute at the door ? " Philip then entered into a detail of all that he had over- heard, and concluded by begging her to admit him, that he might defend her. " Think, fair maiden, of what I have told you. You have been sold to one of those reprobates, whose name, I think they mentioned, was Baetens. The gold, 1 know, you value not ; but think of thine own dear self suffer me to enter the house, and think not for one moment that my story's feigned. I swear to thee, by the soul of my poor dear mother, now, I trust, in heaven, that every word is true." " Baetens, did you say, sir ? " f< If I mistook them not, such was the name ; he said he loved you once." " That name I have in memory I know not what to do or what to say my father has been summoned to a birth, and may be yet away for many hours. Yet how can I open the door to you at night he is not at home I alone ! I ought not cannot yet do I believe you. You surely never could be so base as to invent this tale." " No upon my hopes of future bliss I could not, maiden ! You must not trifle with your life and honour, but let me in." " And if I did, what could you do against such numbers ? They are four to one would soon overpower you, and one more life would be lost." " Not if you have arms ; and I think your father would not be left without them. I fear them not you know that I am resolute." " I do indeed and now you'd risk your life for those you 33 c THE PHANTOM SHIP did assail. I thank you thank you kindly, sir but darn not open the door." "Then, maiden, if you'll not admit me, here will I now remain; without arms, and but ill able to contend with four armed villains; but still, here will I remain and prove my truth to one I will protect against any odds yes, even here ! " " Then shall I be thy murderer ! but that must not be. O sir swear, swear by all that's holy, and by all that's pure, that you do not deceive me. ' " I swear by thyself, maiden, than all to me more sacred ! " The casement closed, and in a short time a light appeared above. In a minute or two more the door was opened to Philip by the fair daughter of Mynheer Poots. She stood with the candle m her right hand, the colour in her cheeks varying now flushing red, and again deadly pale. Her left hind was down by her side, and in it she held a pistol 1 alf concealed. Philip perceived this precaution on her part ut took no notice of it ; he wished to reassure her. " Maiden " said he, not entering, "if you still have do'.bta - if you think you have been ill-advised in giving me adn/is- sion there is yet time to close the door against me ; but for your own sake I entreat you not. Before the moon is up, \ he robbers will be here. With my life I will protect you, if you will but trust me. Who indeed could injure one like you r " She was indeed (as she stood irresolute and perplexed from the peculiarity of her situation, yet not wanting in courage when it was to be called forth) an object well worthy of gaze and admiration. Her features, thrown into broad light and shade by the candle which at times was half extinguished by the wind her symmetry of form and the gracefulness and singularity of her attire were matter of astonishment to Philip. Her head was without covering, and her long hair fell in plaits behind her shoulders ; her stature was rather under the middle size, but her form perfect; her dress was simple but becoming, and very different from that usually worn by the young women of the district. Not only her features but her dress would at once have indicated to a traveller that she was of Arab blood, as was the fact She looked in Philip's face as she spoke earnestly, as if she would have penetrated into his inmost thoughts ; but 34 THE PHANTOM SHIP there was a frankness and honesty in his bearing, and a sincerity in his manly countenance, which reassured her. After a moment's hesitation she replied " Come in, sir ; I feel that I can trust you." Philip entered. The door was then closed and made secure. " We have no time to lose, maiden," said Philip : " but tell me your name, that I may address you as I ought." " My name is Amine," replied she, retreating a little. "I thank you for that little confidence; but I must not dally. What arms have you in the house, and have you ammunition ? " " Both. I wish that my father would come home." " And so do I," replied Philip, " devoutly wish he would, before these murderers come ; but not, I trust, while the attack is making, for there's a carbine loaded expressly for his head, and if they make him prisoner, they will not spare his life, unless his gold and your person are given in ransom. But the arms, maiden where are they ? " " Follow me," replied Amine, leading Philip to an inner room on the upper floor. It was the sanctum of her father, and was surrounded with shelves filled with bottles and boxes of drugs. In one corner was an iron chest, and over the mantelpiece were a brace of carbines and three pistols. "They are all loaded," observed Amine, pointing to them, and laying on the table the one which she had held in her hand. Philip took down the arms, and examined all the primings. He then took up from the table the pistol which Amine had laid there, and threw open the pan. It was equally well pre- pared. Philip closed the pan, and with a smile observed " So this was meant for me, Amine ? " " No not for you but for a traitor, had one gained admittance." " Now, maiden," observed Philip, " I shall station myself at the casement which you opened, but without a light in the room. You may remain here, and can turn the key for your security." "You little know me," replied Amine. "In that way at least I am not fearful ; I must remain near you and reload the arms a task in which I am well practised." 35 THE PHANTOM SHIP "No, no," replied Philip; "you might be hurt" " I may. But think you I will remain here idly, when 1 can assist one who risks his life for me ? I know my duty, sir, and I shall perform it." " You must not risk your life, Amine," replied Philip ; " my aim will not be steady if I know that you're in danger. But I must take the arms into the chamber, for the time is come." Philip, assisted by Amine, carried the carbines and pistols into the adjoining chamber ; and Amine then left Philip, carrying witli her the light. Philip, as soon as he was alone, opened the casement and looked out there was no one to be seen ; he listened ; but all was silent. The moon was just rising above the distant hill, but her light was dimmed by fleecy clouds, and Philip watched for a few minutes ; at length he heard a whispering below. He looked out, and could dis- tinguish through the dark the four expected assailants, standing close to the door of the house. He walked away softly from the window, and went into the next room to Amine, whom he found busy preparing the ammunition. " Amine, they are at the door, in consultation. You can see them now without risk. I thank them, for they will convince you that I have told the truth." Amine, without reply, went into the front room and looked out of the window. She returned, and laying her hand upon Philip's arm, she said - " Grant me your pardon for my doubts. I fear nothing now but that my father may return too soon, and they seize him." Philip left the room again, to make his reconnaissance. The robbers did not appear to have made up their mind the strength of the door defied their utmost efforts, so they at- tempted stratagem. They knocked, and as there was no reply, they continued to knock louder and louder : not meeting with success, they held another cousultation, and the muzzle of a carbine was then put to the keyhole, and the piece discharged. The lock of the door was blown off, but the iron bars which crossed the door within, above and below, still held it fast. Although Philip would have been justified in firing upon the robbers when he first perceived them in consultation at the door, still there is that feeling in a generous mind which pre- vents the taking away of life, except from stern necessity ; and this feeling made him withhold his fire until hostilities had 26 THE PHANTOM SHIP actually commenced. He now levelled one of the carbines at the head of the robber nearest to the door, who was busy exa- mining the effect which the discharge of the piece had made, and what further obstacles intervened. The aim was true, and the man fell dead, while the others started back with surprise at the unexpected retaliation. But in a second or two a pistol was discharged at Philip, who still remained leaning out of the casement, fortunately without effect ; and the next moment he felt himself drawn away, so as to be protected from their fire. It was Amine, who, unknown to Philip, had been standing by his side. " You must not expose yourself, Philip," said she in a low tone. " She called me Philip," thought he, but made no reply. "They will be watching for you at the casement now," said Amine. " Take the other carbine, and go below in the passage. If the lock of the door is blown off, they may put their arms in, perhaps, and remove the bars. I do not think they can, but I'm not sure ; at all events, it is there you should now be, as there they will not expect you." " You are right," replied Philip, going down. " But you must not fire more than once there ; if another fall, there will be but two to deal with, and they cannot watch the casement and force admittance too. Go I will reload the carbine." Philip descended softly and without a light. He went up to the door, and perceived that one of the miscreants, with his arm through the hole where the lock was blown off, was working at the upper iron bar, which he could just reach. He presented his carbine, and was about to fire the whole charge into the body of the man under his raised arm, when there was a report of firearms from the robbers outside. " Amine has exposed herself," thought Philip, " and may be hurt." The desire of vengeance prompted him first to fire his piece through the man's body, and then he flew up the stairs to ascertain the state of Amine. She was not at the casement ; he darted into the inner room, and found her deliberately loading the carbine. " My God ! how you frightened me, Amine. I thought by their firing that you had shown yourself at the window," 87 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Indeed I did not ; but I thought that when you fired through the door they might return your fire, and you be hurt ; so I went to the side of the casement and pushed out on a stick some of my father's clothes, and they who were watching for you fired immediately." " Indeed, Amine ! who could have expected such courage and such coolness in one so young and beautiful ? " exclaimed Philip, with surprise. " Are none but ill-favoured people brave, then ? " replied Amine, smiling. "I did not mean that, Amine but I am losing time. I must to the door again. Give me that carbine, and reload this." Philip crept downstairs that he might reconnoitre, but before he had gained the door he heard at a distance the voice of Mynheer Poots. Amine, who also heard it, was in a moment at his side with a loaded pistol in each hand. " Fear not, Amine," said Philip, as he unbarred the door, " there are but two, and your father shall be saved." The door was opened, and Philip, seizing his carbine, rushed out ; he found Mynheer Poots on the ground between the two men, one of whom had raised his knife to plunge it into his body, when the ball of the carbine whizzed through his head. The last of the robbers closed with Philip, and a desperate struggle ensued ; it was, however, soon decided by Amine stepping forward and firing one of the pistols through the robber's body. We must here inform our readers that Mynheer Poots, when coming home, had heard the report of firearms in the direction of his own house. The recollection of his daughter and of his money for to do him justice he did love her best had lent him wings ; he forgot that he was a feeble old man and without arms ; all he thought of was to gain his habitation. On he came, reckless, frantic, and shouting, and rushed into the arms of the two robbers, who seized and would have despatched him, had not Philip so opportunely come to his assistance. As soon as the last robber fell, Philip disengaged himself and went to the assistance of Mynheer Poots, whom he raised up in his arms and carried into the house as if he were an infant. The old man was still in a state of delirium from fear and previous excitement 38 THE PHANTOM SHIP In a few minutes Mynheer Pools w&s more coherent. " My daughter ! " exclaimed he " my daughter ! v. here is she?" " She is here, father, and safe," replied Amine. "Ah! my child is safe," said he, opening his eyes and staring. " Yes, it is even so and my money my money where is my money ?" continued he, starting up. " Quite safe, father." " Quite safe you say quite safe are you sure cf it ? let me see." " There it is, father, as you may perceive, quite safe thanks to one whom you have not treated so well." " Who what do you mean ? Ah, yes, I see him now 'tis Philip Vanderdecken he owes me three guilders and a half, and there is a phial did he save you and my money, child ? " " He did, indeed, at the risk of his life." "Well, well, I will forgive him the whole debt yes, the whole of it ; but the phial is of no use to him he must return that. Give me some water." It was some time before the old man could regain his perfect reason. Philip left him with his daughter, and taking a brace of loaded pistols, went out to ascertain the fate of the four assailants. The moon having climbed above the banks of clouds which had obscured her, was now high in the heavens, shining bright, and he could distinguish clearly. The two men lying across the threshold of the cloor were quite dead. The others, who had seized upon Mvnheer Poots, were still alive, but one was expiring and the other bled fast. Philip put a few questions to the latter, but he either would not or could not make any reply ; he removed their weapons and returned to the house, where he found the old man attended by his daughter in a state of comparative composure. "I thank you, Philip Vanderdecken I thank you much. You have saved my dear child, and my money that is little, very little for I am poor. May you live long and happily ! " Philip mused ; the letter and his vow were, for the first time since he fell in with the robbers, recalled to his recollec- tion, and a shade passed over his countenance. " Long and happily no, no," muttered he, with an in- voluntary shake of the head. ,39 THE PHANTOM SHIP "And I must thank you," said Amine, looking inquiringly in Philip's face. " Oh, how much have I to thank you for ! and indeed I am grateful." " Yes, yes, she is very grateful," interrupted the old man ; " but we are poor very poor. I talked about my money because I have so little, and I cannot afford to lose it ; but you shall not pay me the three guilders and a half I am content to lose that, Mr. Philip." " Why should you lose even that, Mynheer Poots ? I promised to pay you, and will keep my word. I have plenty of money thousands of guilders, and know not what to do with them." " You you thousands of guilders ! " exclaimed Poots. " Pooh, nonsense, that won't do." " 1 lepeat to you, Amine," said Philip, "that I have thou- sands of guilders : you know I would not tell you a. falsehood." " I believed you when you said so to my father," replied Amine. "Then, perhaps, as you have so much, and I am so very poor, Mr. Vanderdecken But Amine put her hand upon her father's lips, and the sentence was not finished. " Father," said Amine, " it is time that we retire. You must leave us for to-night, Philip." " I will not," replied Philip; "nor, you may depend upon it, will I sleep. You may both to bed in safety. It is indeed time that you retire good night, Mynheer Poots. I will but ask a lamp, and then I leave you Amine, good night." " Good night," said Amine, extending her hand, " and many, many thanks." "Thousands of guilders !" muttered the old m-ui, as Philip left the room and went below. CHAPTER V PHILIP VANDERDECKEN sat down at the porch of the door ; he swept his hair from his forehead, which he exposed to the fanning of the breeze ; for the continued excitement of the last three days had left a fever on his brain which 40 THE PHANTOM SHIP made him restless and confused. He longed for repose, but he knew that for him there was no rest. He had his fore- bodings he perceived in the vista of futurity a long-con- tinued chain of danger and disaster, even to death ; yet he beheld it without emotion and without dread. He felt as if it were only three days that he had begun to exist ; he was melancholy, but not unhappy. His thoughts were constantly recurring to the fatal letter its strange supernatural disap- pearance seemed pointedly to establish its supernatural origin, and that the mission had been intended for him alone ; and the relic in his possession more fully substantiated the fact. " It is my fate, my duty," thought Philip. Having satis- factorily made up his mind to these conclusions, his thoughts reverted to the beauty, the courage, and presence of mind shown by Amine. "And," thought he, as he watched the moon soaring high in the heavens, "is this fair creature's destiny to be interwoven with mine ? The events of the last three days would almost warrant the supposition. Heaven only knows, and Heaven's will be done. I have vowed, and my vow is registered, that I will devote my life to the release of my unfortunate father but does that prevent my loving Amine ? No, no ; the sailor on the Indian seas must pass months and months on shore before he can return to his duty. My search must be on the broad ocean, but how often may I return ? and why am I to be debarred the solace of a smiling hearth ? And yet do I right in winning the affections of one who, if she loves, would, I am convinced, love so dearly, fondly, truly ought I to persuade her to mate herself with one whose life will be so precarious ? But is not every sailor's life precarious, daring the angry waves, with but an inch of plank 'tween him and death ? Besides, I am chosen to fulfil a task and if so, what can hurt me, till in Heaven's own time it is accomplished ? but then how soon, and how is it to end ? in death ! I wish my blood were cooler, that I might reason better." Such were the meditations of Philip Vanderdecken, and long did he revolve such chances in his mind. At last the day dawned, and as he perceived the blush upon the horizon, less careful of his watch he slumbered where he sat. A slight pressure on the shoulder made him start up and draw the pistoJ from his bosom. He turned round and beheld Amine. 41 THE PHANTOM SHIP w And that pistol was intended for me," said Amine, smiling, repeating Philip's words of the night before. " For you, Araine ? yes, to defend you, if 'twere necessary, once more." " I know it would how kind of you to watch this tedious night after so much exertion and fatigue ; but it is now broad day." " Until I saw the dawn, Amine, I kept a faithful watch." " But now retire and take some rest My father is risen you can lie down on his bed." " I thank you, but I feel no wish for sleep. There is much to do. We must to the burgomaster and state the facts, and these bodies must remain where they are until the whole is known. Will your father go, Amine, or shall I ? " " My father surely is the more proper person, as the pro- prietor of the house. You must remain ; and if you will not sleep, you must take some refreshment. I will go in and tell my father ; he has already taken his morning's meaL" Amine went in, and soon returned with her father, who had consented to go to the burgomaster. He saluted Philip kindly as he came out ; shuddered as he passed on one side to avoid stepping over the dead bodies, and went off at a quick pace to the adjacent town, where the burgomaster resided. Amine desired Philip to follow her, and they went into her father's room, where, to his surprise, he found some coffee ready for him at that time a raritj-, and one which Philip did not expect to find in the house of the penurious Mynheer Poots ; but it was a luxury which, from his former life, the old man could not dispense with. Philip, who had not tasted food for nearly twenty -four hours, was not sorry to avail himself of what was placed before him. Amine sat down opposite to him, and was silent during his repast. " Amine," said Philip at last, " I have had plenty of time for reflection during this night, as I watched at the door. May I speak freely ? " " Why not ? " replied Amine. " I feel assured that you will say nothing that you should not say, or should not meet a maiden's ear." "You do me justice, Amine. My thoughts have been upon you and your father. You cannot stay in this lone habitation." 42 THE PHANTOM SHIP * I feel it is too lonely ; that is, for his safety perhaps 'for mine but you know my father the very loneliness suits him, the price paid for rent is little, and he is careful of his money." " The man who would be careful of his money should place it in security here it is not secure. Now hear me, Amine. I have a cottage, surrounded, as you may have heard, by many others, which mutually protect each other. That cottage I am about to leave perhaps for ever ; for I intend to sail by the first ship to the Indian seas." "The Indian seas ! why so? did you not last night talk of thousands of guilders ? " " I did, and they are there ; but, Amine, I must go it is my duty. Ask me no more, but listen to what I now propose. Your father must live in my cottage ; he must take care of it for me in my absence ; he will do me a favour by consenting, and you must persuade him. You will there be sale. He must also take care of my money for me. I want it not at present I cannot take it with me." " My father is not to be trusted with the money of other people." " Why does your father hoard ? He cannot take his money with him when he is called away. It must be all for you and is not then my money safe ? " " Leave it then in my charge, and it will be safe ; but why need you go and risk your life upon the water, when you have such ample means ? " "Amine, ask not that question. It is my duty as a son, and more I cannot tell, at least at present." "If it is your duty, I ask no more. It was not womanish curiosity no, no it was a better feeling, I assure you, which prompted me to put the question." " And what was the better feeling, Amine ?" "I hardly know many good feelings perhaps mixed up together gratitude, esteem, respect, confidence, goodwill. Are not these sufficient ? " " Yes, indeed, Amine, and much to gain upon so short an acquaintance ; but still I feel them all, and more, for you. If, then, you feel so much for me, do oblige me by persuading your father to leave this lonely house this day, and take up his abode in mine." 43 THE PHANTOM SHIP "And where do you intend to go yourself? " " If your father will not admit me as a boarder for the short time I remain here, I will seek some shelter elsewhere; but if he will, I will indemnify him well that is, if you raise no objection to my being for a few days in the house ? " " Why should I ? Our habitation is no longer safe, and you offer us a shelter. It were, indeed, unjust and most un- grateful to turn you out from beneath your own roof." "Then persuade him, Amine. I will accept of nothing, but take it as a favour ; for I should depart in sorrow if I saw you not in safety. Will you promise me ? " " I do promise to use my best endeavours nay, I may as well say at once it shall be so ; for I know my influence. Here is my hand upon it. Will that content you ? " Philip took the small hand extended towards him. His feel- ings overcame his discretion; he raised it to his lips. He looked up to see if Amine was displeased, and found her dark eye fixed upon him, as once before when she admitted him, as if she would see his thoughts but the hand was not withdrawn. " Indeed, Amine," said Philip, kissing her hand once more, "you may confide in me." " I hope I think nay, I am sure I may," at last replied she. Philip released her hand. Amine returned to the seat, and for some time remained silent, and in a pensive attitude. Philip also had his own thoughts, and did not open his lips. At last Amine spoke. "I think I have heard my father say that your mother was very poor a little deranged ; and that there was a chamber in the house which had been shut up for years." " It was shut up till yesterday." " And there you found your money ? Did your mother not know of the money ? " " She did, for she spoke of it on her deathbed." " There must have been some potent reasons for not open- ing the chamber." " There were." "What were they, Philip?" said Amine, in a soft and low tone of voice. " I must not tell, at least I ought not. This must satisfy you 'twas the fear of an apparition." 44 THE PHANTOM SHIP "What apparition?" " She said that my father had appeared to her." " And did he, think you, Philip ? " " I have no doubt that he did. But I can answer no more questions, Amine. The chamber is open now, and there is no fear of his reappearance." " I fear not that," replied Amine, musing. " But," con- tinued she, "is not this connected with your resolution of going to sea ?" " So far will I answer you, that it has decided me to go to sea ; but I pray you ask no more. It is painful to refuse you, and my duty forbids me to speak further." For some minutes they were both silent, when Amine resumed "You were so anxious to possess that relic, that I cannot help thinking it has connection with the mystery. Is it not so ? " " For the last time, Amine, I will answer your question it has to do with it : but now no more." Philip's blunt and almost rude manner of finishing his speech was riot lost upon Amine, who replied "You are so engrossed with other thoughts, that you have not felt the compliment shown you by my taking such interest about you, sir." " Yes, I do I feel and thank you too, Amine. Forgive me, if I have been rude ; but recollect, the secret is not mine at least, I feel as if it were not. God knows, I wish I never had known it, for it has blasted all my hopes in life." Philip was silent ; and when he raised his eyes, he found that Amine's were fixed upon him. " Would you read my thoughts, Amine, or my secret ? " " Your thoughts, perhaps your secret I would not ; yet do I grieve that it should oppress you so heavily as evidently it does. It must, indeed, be one of awe to bear down a mind like yours, Philip." " Where did you learn to be so brave, Amine ? " said Philip, changing the conversation. ** Circumstances make people brave or otherwise ; those who are accustomed to difficulty and danger fear them not." "And where have you met with them, Amine ? " "In the country where I was born, not in this dank and muddy land." THE PHANTOM SHIP "Will you trust me with the story of your former life, Amine ? I can be secret, if you wish." " That you can be secret, perhaps against ray wish, you have already proved to me," replied Amine, smiling; "and you have a claim to know something of the life you have preserved. I cannot tell you much, but what I can will be sufficient. My father, when a lad on board of a trading vessel, was taken by the Moors, and sold as a slave to a hakim, or physician, of their country. Finding him very intelligent, the Moor brought him up as an assistant, and it was under this man that he obtained a knowledge of the art. In a few years he was equal to his master ; but, as a slave, he worked not for himself. You know, indeed it cannot be concealed, my father's avarice. He sighed to become as wealthy as his master, and to obtain his freedom ; he became a follower of Mahomet, after which he was free, and practised for himself. He took a wife from an Arab family, the daughter of a chief whom he had restored to health, and he settled in the country. I was born; he amassed wealth, and became much celebrated : but the son of a Bey dying under his hands was the excuse for persecuting him. His head was forfeited, but he escaped ; not, however, without the loss of all his beloved wealth. My mother and I went with him ; he fled to the Bedouins, with whom we remained some years. There I was accustomed to rapid marches, wild and fierce attacks, defeat and flight, and oftentimes to indiscrimi- nate slaughter. But the Bedouins paid not well for my father's services, and gold was his idol. Hearing that the Bey was dead, he returned to Cairo, where he again practised. He was allowed once more to amass, until the heap was sufficient to excite the cupidity of the new Bey ; but this time he was for- tunately made acquainted with the intentions of the ruler. He again escaped, with a portion of his wealth, in a small vessel, and gained the Spanish coast ; but he never has been able to retain his money long. Before he arrived in this country he had been robbed of almost all, and has now been for these three years laying up again. We were but one year at Middleburg, and from thence removed to this place. Such is the history of my life, Philip." " Does your father still hold the Mahometan faith, Amine?" " 1 know not. I think he holds no faith whatever : at least he hath taught me none. His god is gold." 46 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Is the God who made this beautiful world, and all which it contains the God of nature name Him as you will. This I feel, Philip, but more I fain would know ; there are so many faiths, but surely they must be but different paths lead- ing alike to heaven. Yours is the Christian faith, Philip. Is it the true one ? But every one calls his own the true one, whatever his creed may be." " It is the true and only one, Amine. Could I but reveal I have such dreadful proofs " "That your faith is true ; then is it not your duty to reveal these proofs ? Tell me, are you bound by any solemn obliga- tion never to reveal ? " "No, I am not; yet do I feel as if I were. But I hear voices it must be your father and the authorities I must go down and meet them." Philip rose and went downstairs. Amine's eyes followed him as he went, and she remained looking towards the door. " Is it possible," said she, sweeping the hair from off her brow, "so soon, yes, yes, 'tis even so. I feel that I would sooner share his hidden woe his dangers even death itself were preferable with him, than ease and happiness with any other. And it shall be strange indeed if I do not. This night my father shall move into his cottage : I will prepare at once." The report of Philip and Mynheer Poots was taken down by the authorities, the bodies examined, and one or two of them recognised as well-known marauders. They were then re- moved by the order of the burgomaster. The authorities broke up their council, and Philip and Mynheer Poots were permitted to return to Amine. It will not be necessary to repeat the con- versation which ensued : it will be sufficient to state that Poots yielded to the arguments employed by Amine and Philip, particularly the one of paying no rent. A conveyance for the furniture and medicines was procured, and in the afternoon most of the effects were taken away. It was not, however, till dusk that the strong box of the doctor was put into the cart, and Philip went with it as a protector. Amine also walked by the side of the vehicle with her father. As may be supposed, it was late that night before they had made their arrangements, and had retired to rest. 47 THE PHANTOM SHIP CHAPTER VI J. HIS, then, is the chamber which has so long been closed," said Amine, on entering it the next morning, long before Philip had awakened from the sound sleep produced by the watching of the night before. " Yes, indeed, it has the air of having long been closed." Amine looked around her, and then examined the furniture. Her eyes were attracted to the bird-cages ; she looked into them : " Poor little things ! " continued she, " and here it was his father appeared unto his mother. Well, it may be so Philip saith that he hath proofs ; and why should he not appear ? Were Philip dead, I should rejoice to see his spirit at least it would be something. What am I saying unfaithful lips, thus to betray my secret ? The table thrown over that looks like the work of fear ; a workbox, with all its implements scattered only a woman's fear : a mouse might have caused all this ; and yet there is something solemn in the simple fact that, for so many years, not a living being has crossed these boards. Even that a table thus overthrown could thus remain for years seems scarcely natural, and therefore has its power on the mind. I wonder not that Philip feels there is so heavy a secret belonging to this room but it must not remain in this condition it must be occupied at once." Amine, who had long been accustomed to attend upon her father, and perform the household duties, now commenced her intended labours. Every part of the room, and every piece of furniture in it, were cleaned ; even the cobwebs and dust were cleared away, and the sofa and table brought from the corner to the centre of the room ; the melancholy little prisons were removed ; and when Amine's work of neatness was complete, and the sun shone brightly into the opened window, the chamber wore the appearance of cheerfulness. Amine had the intuitive good sense to feel that strong impressions wear away when the objects connected with them are removed. She resolved then to make Philip more at ease ; for, with all the fire and warmth of blood inherent in her race, she had taken his image to her heart, and was 48 THE PHANTOM SHIP determined to win him. Again and again did she resume her labour, until the pictures about the room and every other article looked fresh and clean. Not only the bird-cages, but the workbox and all the implements were removed ; and the piece of embroidery, the taking up of which had made Philip recoil as if he had touched an adder, was put away with the rest. Philip had left the keys on the floor. Amine opened the buffets, cleaned the glazed doors, and was busy rubbing up the silver flagons, when her father came into the room. " Mercy on me ! " exclaimed Mynheer Poots ; " and is all that silver ? then it must be true, and he has thousands of guilders ; but where are they ? " " Never do you mind, father ; yours are now safe, and for that you have to thank Philip Vanderdecken." " Yes, very true ; but as he is to live here does he eat much ? what will he pay me ? He ought to pay well, as he has so much money." Amine's lips were curled with a contemptuous smile, but she made no reply "1 wonder where he keeps his money ; and he is going to sea as soon as he can get a ship ? Who will have charge of his money when he goes ? " " I shall take charge of it, father," replied Amine. " Ah yes well we will take charge of it ; the ship may be lost." ' " No, me will not take charge of it, father ; you will have nothing to do with it. Look after your own." Amine placed the silver in the buffets, locked the doors, and took the keys with her when she went out to prepare breakfast, leaving the old man gazing through the glazed doors at the precious metal within. His eyes were riveted upon it, and he could not remove them. Every minute he muttered, "Yes, all silver." Philip came downstairs ; and as he passed by the room, intending to go into the kitchen, he perceived Mynheer Poots at the buffet, and he walked into the room. He was surprised as well as pleased with the alteration. He felt why and by whom it was done, and he was grate- ful. Amine came in with the breakfast, and their eyes gpoke more than their lips could have done ; and Philip 43 O THE PHANTOM SHIP sat down to his meal with less of sorrow and gloom upon his brow. " Mynheer Pools," said Philip, as soon as he had finished, " I intend to leave you in possession of my cottage, and I trust you will find yourself comfortable. What little arrangements are necessary I will confide to your daughter previous to my departure." " Then you leave us, Mr. Philip, to go to sea ? It must be pleasant to go and see strange countries much better than staying at home. When do you go?" " I shall leave this evening for Amsterdam," replied Philip, "to make my arrangements about a ship, but I shall return, I think, before I sail." " Ah ! you will return. Yes you have your money and your goods to see to ; you must count your money we will take good care of it. Where is your money, Mr. Vanderdecken ?" "That I will communicate to your daughter this forenoon, before I leave. In three weeks at the furthest you may expect me back." "Father," said Amine, "you promised to go and see the child of the burgomaster ; it is time you went." "Yes, yes by-and-by all in good time ; but I must wait the pleasure of Mr. Philip first he has much to tell me before he goes." Philip could not help smiling when he remembered what had passed when he first summoned Mynheer Poots to the cottage, but the remembrance ended in sorrow and a clouded brow. Amine, who knew what was passing in the minds of both her father and Philip, now brought her father's hat, and led him to the door of the cottage ; and Mynheer Poots, very much against his inclination, but never disputing the will of his daughter, was obliged to depart. "So soon, Philip?" said Amine, returning to the room. " Yes, Amine, immediately. But I trust to be back once more before I sail ; if not, you must now have my instructions. Give me the keys." Philip opened the cupboard below the buffet, and the doors of the iron safe. " There, Amine, is my money ; we need not count it, as your father would propose. You see that I was right when I asserted that I had thousands of guilders. At present they 50 THE PHANTOM SHIP are of no use to me, as I have to learn my profession. Should I return some day, they may help me to own a ship. I know not what my destiny may be." " And should you not return ? " replied Amine gravely. " Then they are yours as well as all that is in this cottage, and the cottage itself." " You have relations, have you not ? " " But one, who is rich ; an uncle, who helped us but little in our distress, and who has no children. I owe him but little, and he wants nothing. There is but one being in this world who has created an interest in this heart, Amine, and it is you. I wish you to look upon me as a brother I shall always love you as a dear sister." Amine made no reply. Philip took some more money out of the bag which had been opened, for the expenses of his journey, and then locking up the safe and cupboard, gave the keys to Amine. He was about to address her, when there was a slight knock at the door, and in entered Father Seysen, the priest. " Save you, my son ; and you, my child, whom as yet I have not seen. You are, I suppose, the daughter of Mynheer Foots?" Amine bowed her head. " I perceive, Philip, that the room is now opened, and I have heard of all that has passed. I would now talk with thee, Philip, and must beg this maiden to leave us for awhile alone." Amine quitted the room, and the priest, sitting down on the couch, beckoned Philip to his side. The conversation which ensued was too long to repeat. The priest first questioned Philip relative to his secret, but on that point he could not obtain the information which he wished : Philip stated as much as he did to Amine, and no more. He also declared his intention of going to sea, and that, should he not return, he had bequeathed his property the extent of which he did not make known to the doctor and his daughter. The priest then made inquiries relative to Mynheer Poots, asking Philip whether he knew what his creed was, as he had never appeared at any church, and report said that he was an infidel. To this Philip, as usual, gave his frank answer, and intimated that the daughter, at least, was anxious to be enlightened, begging the priest to undertake a task to which he himself was not 51 THE PHANTOM SHIP adequate. To this request Father Seysen, who perceived the state of Philip's mind with regard to Amine, readily consented. After a conversation of nearly two hours, they were interrupted by the return of Mynheer Foots, who darted out of the room the instant he perceived Father Seysen. Philip called Amine, and having begged her as a favour to receive the priest's visits, the good old man blessed them both, and departed. " You did not give him any money, Mr. Philip ? " said Mynheer Poots, when Father Seysen had left the room. " I did not," replied Philip ; " I wish I had thought of it." " No, no it is better not for money is better than what he can give you ; but he must not come here." "Why not, father," replied Amine, "if Mr. Philip wishes it ? It is his own house." " Oh yes, if Mr. Philip wishes it ; but you know he is going away." " Well, and suppose he is why should not the father come here ? He shall come here to see me." "See you, my child ! what can he want with you ? Well, then, if he comes, I will not give him one stiver and then he'll soon go away." Philip had no opportunity of further converse with Amine ; indeed, he had nothing more to say. In an hour he bade her farewell in presence of her father, who would not leave them, hoping to obtain from Philip some communication about the money which he was to leave behind him. In two days Philip arrived at Amsterdam, and having made the necessary inquiries, found that there was no chance of vessels sailing for the East Indies for some months. The Dutch East India Company had long been formed, and all private trading was at an end. The company's vessels left only at what was supposed to be the most favourable season for round- ing the Cape of Storms, as the Cape of Good Hope was designated by the early adventurers. One of the ships which were to sail with the next fleet was the Ter Schilling, a three- masted vessel, now laid up and unrigged. Philip found out the captain, and stated his wishes to sail with him, to learn his profession as a seaman ; the captain was pleased with his appearance, and as Philip not only agreed to receive no wages during the voyage, but to pay a premium as an apprentice learning his duty, he was promised a berth on 52 THE PHANTOM SHIP board as the second mate, to mess in the cabin ; and he was told that he should be informed whenever the vessel was to sail. Philip having now done all that he could in obedience to his vow, determined to return to the cottage ; and once more he was in the company of Amine. We must now pass over two months, during which Mynheer Foots continued to labour at his vocation, and was seldom within doors, and our two young friends were left for hours together. Philip's love for Amine was fully equal to hers for him. It was more than love it was a devotion on both sides, each day increasing. Who, indeed, could be more charming, more attractive in all ways than the high-spirited, yet tender Amine ? Occasionally the brow of Philip would be clouded when he reflected upon the dark prospect before him : but Amine's smile would chase away the gloom, and, as he gazed on her, all would be forgotten. Amine made no secret of her attachment ; it was shown in every word, every look, and every gesture. When Philip would take her hand, or encircle her waist with his arm, or even when he pressed her coral lips, there was no pretence of coyness on her part. She was too noble, too confiding ; she felt that her happiness was centred in his love, and she lived but in his presence. Two months had thus passed away, when Father Seysen, who often called, and had paid much attention to Amine's instruction, one day came in as Amine was encircled in Philip's arms. " My children," said he, "I have watched you for some time: this is not well. Philip, if you intend marriage, as I presume you do, still it is dangerous. I must join your hands." Philip started up. " Surely I am not deceived in thee, my son," continued the priest, in a severe tone. " No, no, good father ; but I pray you leave me now : to- morrow you may come, and all will be decided. But I must talk with Amine." The priest quitted the room, and Amine and Philip were again alone. The colour in Amine's cheek varied and her heart beat, for she felt how much her happiness was at stake. "The priest is right, Amine," said Philip, sitting down by her. " This cannot last ; would that I could ever stay with you : how hard a fate is mine 1 You know I love the very ground you tread upon, yet I dare not ask thee to \ved to misery." 53 THE PHANTOM SHIP " To wed with thee would not be wedding misery, Philip," replied Amine, with downcast eyes. " Twere not kindness on my part, Amine. I should indeed be selfish." " I will speak plainly, Philip," replied Amine. " You say you love me I know not how men love but this I know, how I can love. I feel that to leave me now were indeed unkind and selfish on your part ; for, Philip, I I should die. You say that you must go away that fate demands it and your fatal secret. Be it so ; but cannot I go with you ? " " Go with me, Amine unto death ? " " Yes, death ; for what is death but a release ? I fear not death, Philip ; I fear but losing thee. Nay, more ; is not your life in the hands of Him who made all ? Then why so sure to die ? You have hinted to me that you are chosen selected for a task ; if chosen, there is less chance of death ; for until the end be fulfilled, if chosen, you must live. I would I knew your secret, Philip a woman's wit might serve you well : and if it did not serve you, is there no comfort, no pleasure, in sharing sorrow as well as joy with one you say you dote upon ? " " Amine, dearest Amine ; it is my love, my ardent love alone, which makes me pause : for oh, Amine, what pleasure should I feel if we were this hour united ! I hardly know what to say, or what to do. I could not withhold my secret from you if you were my wife, nor will I wed you till you know it. Well, Amine, I will cast my all upon the die. You shall know this secret, learn what a doomed wretch I am, though from no fault of mine, and then you yourself shall decide. But remember, my oath is registered in heaven, anil I must not be dissuaded from it ; keep that in mind, and hear my tale, then, if you choose to wed with one whose prospects are so bitter, be it so, a short-lived happi- ness will then be mine, but for you, Amine " At once the secret, Philip," cried Amine impatiently. Philip then entered into a detail of what our readers are acquainted with. Amine listened in silence; not a change of feature was to be observed in her countenance during the narrative. Philip wound up with stating the oath which he had taken. " I have done," said Philip mournfully. THE PHANTOM SHIP ** Tis a strange story, Philip/' replied Amine ; " and now hear me ; but give me first that relic, I wish to look upon it. And can there be such virtue I had nigh said, such mischief in this little thing ? Strange ; forgive me, Philip, but I've still my doubts upon this tale of Eblis. You know I am not yet strong in the new belief which you and the good priest have lately taught me. I do not say that it cannot be true ; but still, one so unsettled as I am may be allowed to waver. But, Philip, I'll assume that all is true. Then, if it be true, without the oath, you would be doing but your duty ; and think not so meanly of Amine as to suppose she would restrain you from what is right. No, Philip, seek your father, and, if you can, and he requires your aid, then save him. But, Philip, do you imagine that a task like this, so high, is to be accomplished at one trial ? Oh no ! if you have been so chosen to fulfil it, you will be preserved through difficulty and danger until you have worked out your end. You will be preserved, and you will again and again return ; be comforted consoled be cherished and be loved by Amine as your wife. And when it pleases Him to call you from this world, yojur memory, if she survive you, Philip, will equally be cherished in her bosom. Philip, you have given me to decide ; dearest Philip, I am thine." Amine extended her arms, and Philip pressed her to his bosom. That evening Philip demanded his daughter of the father, and Mynheer Poots, as soon as Philip opened the iron safe and displayed the guilders, gave his immediate consent. Father Seysen called the next day and received his answer ; and three days afterwards the bells of the little church of Terneuse were ringing a merry peal for the union of Amino Poots and Philip Vanderdecken. CHAPTER VII IT was not until late in the autumn that Philip was roused from his dream of love (for what, alas ! is every enjoyment of this life but a dream ?) by a summons from the captain of the vessel with whom he had engaged to sail. Strange as it may appear, from the first day which put him in possession of his 55 THE PHANTOM SHIP Amine, Philip had no longer brooded over his future destiny : occasionally it was recalled to his memory, but immediately rejected, and for the time forgotten. Sufficient he thought it to fulfil his engagement when the time should come ; and although the hours flew away, and day succeeded day, week week, and month month, with the rapidity accompanying a life of quiet and unvarying bliss, Philip forgot his vow in the arms of Amine, who was careful not to revert to a topic which would cloud the brow of her adored husband. Once, indeed, or twice, had old Poots raised the question of Philip's depar- ture, but the indignant frown and the imperious command of Amine (who knew too well the sordid motives which actuated her father, and who at such times looked upon him with abhorrence) made him silent, and the old man would spend his leisure hours in walking up and down the parlour with his eyes riveted upon the buffets, where the silver tankards now beamed in all their pristine brightness. One morning, in the month of October, there was a tapping with the knuckles at the cottage door. As this precaution implied a stranger, Amine obeyed the summons. "I would speak with Master Philip Vanderdecken," said the stranger, in a half-whisperihg sort of voice. The party who thus addressed Amine was a little, meagre personage, dressed in the garb of the Dutch seamen of his time, with a cap made of badger-skin hanging over his brow, His features were sharp and diminutive, his face of a deadly white, his lips pale, and his hair of a mixture between red and white. He had very little show of beard indeed, it was almost difficult to say what his age might be. He might have been a sickly youth early sinking into decrepitude, or an old man, hale in constitution, yet carrying no flesh. But the most important feature, and that which immediately riveted the attention of Amine, was the eye of this peculiar personage for he had but one ; the right eyelid was closed, and the ball within had evidently wasted away ; but his left eye was, for the size of his face and head, of unusual dimensions, very protuberant, clear and watery, and most unpleasant to look upon, being relieved by no fringe of eyelash either above or below it. So remarkable was the feature that when you looked at the man you saw his eye and looked at nothing else. It was not a man with one eye, but one eye with a THE PHANTOM SHIP man attached to it : the body was but the tower of the lighthouse, of no further value and commanding no further attention than does the structure which holds up the beacon to the venturous mariner; and yet, upon examination, you would have perceived that the man, although small, was neatly made ; that his hands were very different in texture and colour from those of common seamen ; that his features in general, although sharp, were regular ; and that there was an air of superiority even in the obsequious manner of the little personage, and an indescribable something about his whole appearance which almost impressed you with awe. Amine's dark eyes were for a moment fixed upon the visitor, and she felt a chill at her heart for which she could not account, as she requested that he would walk in. Philip was greatly surprised at the appearance of the stranger, who, as soon as he entered the room, without saying a word, sat down on the sofa by Philip in the place which Amine had just left. To Philip there was something ominous in this person taking Amine's seat ; all that had passed rushed into his recollection, and he felt that there was a summons from his short existence of enjoyment and repose to a life of future activity, danger, and suffering. What peculiarly struck Philip was that when the little man sat beside him a sensation of sudden cold ran through his whole frame. The colour fled from Philip's cheek, but he spoke not. For a minute or two there was a silence. The one-eyed visitor looked round him, and, turning from the buffets, he fixed his eyes on the form of Amine, who stood before him ; at last the silence was broken by a sort of giggle on the part of the stranger, which ended in " Philip Vanderdecken he ! he ! Philip Vanderdecken, you don't know me ? " " I do not," replied Philip, in a half-angry tone. The voice of the little man was most peculiar it was a sort of subdued scream, the notes of which sounded in your ear long after he had ceased to speak. " I am Schriften, one of the pilots of the Ter Schilling," continued the man; "and I'm come he! he!" and he looked hard at Amine "to take you away from love" and looking at the buffets " he '. he ! from comfort, and from this also," cried he, stamping his foot on the floor as he rose THE PHANTOM SHIP from the sofa " from terra firma he ! he ! to a watery grave perhaps. Pleasant ! " continued Schriften, with a giggle; and with a countenance full of meaning he fixed his one eye on Philip's face. Philip's first impulse was to put his new visitor out of the door ; but Amine, who read his thoughts, folded her arms as she stood before the little man, and eyed him with contempt, as she observed " We all must meet our fate, good fellow; and, whether by land or sea, death will have his due. If death stare him in the face, the cheek of Philip Vanderdecken will never turn as white as yours is now." "Indeed!" replied Schriften, evidently annoyed at this cool determination on the part of one so young and beautiful ; and then fixing his eye upon the silver shrine of the Virgin on the mantelpiece " You are a Catholic, I perceive he ! " " I am a Catholic," replied Philip ; "but does that concern you ? When does the vessel sail ? " "In a week he ! only a week for preparation only seven days to leave all short notice ! " " More than sufficient," replied Philip, rising up from the sofa. " You may tell your captain that I shall not fail. Come, Amine, we must lose no time." " No, indeed," replied Amine, " and our first duty is hos- pitality : Mynheer, may we offer you refreshment after your walk ?'" "This day week," said Schriften, addressing Philip, and without making a reply to Amine. Philip nodded his head, the litlle mnn turned on his heel and left the room, and in a short time was out of sight. Amine sank down on the sofa. The breaking-up of her short hour of happiness had been too sudden, too abrupt, and too cruelly brought about for a fondly doting, although heroic woman. There was an evident malignity in the words and manner of the one-eyed messenger, an appearance as if he knew more than others, which awed and confused both Philip and herself. Amine wept not, but she covered her face with her hands, as Philip, with no steady pace, walked up and down the small room. Again, with all the vividness of colouring, did the scenes half forgotten recur to his memory. Again did he pene- trate the fatal chamber again was it obscure. The embroidery 58 THE PHANTOM SHIP lay at his feet, and once more he started as when the letter appeared upon the floor. They had both awakened from a dream of present bliss, and shuddered at the awful future which presented itself. A few minutes were sufficient for Philip to resume his natural self- possession. He sat down by the side of his Amine, and clasped her in his arms. They remained silent. They knew too well each other's thoughts; and, excruciating as was the effort, they were both summoning up their courage to bear, and steeling their hearts against, the conviction that, in this world, they must now expect to be for a time, perhaps for ever, separated. Amine was the first to speak : removing her arms, which had been wound round her husband, she first put his hand to her heart, as if to compress its painful throbbings, and then observed " Surely that was no earthly messenger, Philip ! Did you not feel chilled to death when he sat by you ? I did, as he came in." Philip, who had the same thought as Amine, but did not wish to alarm her, answered confusedly " Nay, Amine, you fancy that is, the suddenness of his appearance and his strange conduct have made you imagine this ; but I saw in him but a man who, from his peculiar deformity, has become an envious outcast of society debarred from domestic happiness, from the smiles of the other sex ; for what woman could smile upon such a creature ? His bile raised at so much beauty in the arms of another, he enjoyed a malignant pleasure in giving a message which he felt would break upon those pleasures from which he is cut off. Be assured, my love, that it was nothing more." "And even if my conjecture were correct, what does it matter?" replied Amine. "There can be nothing more nothing which can render your position more .awful and more desperate. As your wife, Philip, I feel less courage than I did when I gave my willing hand. I knew not then what would be the extent of my loss ; but fear not, much as I feel here," continued Amine, putting her hand to her heart " I am pre- pared, and proud that he who is selected for such a task is my husband." Amine paused. " You cannot surely have been mistaken, Philip ? " " No ! Arnine, I have not been mistaken, either hi the THE PHANTOM SHIP summons or in my own courage, or in my selection of a wife," replied Philip mournfully, as he embraced her. " It is the will of Heaven." " Then may its will be done," replied Amine, rising from her seat. " The first pang is over. I feel better now, Philip. Your Amine knows her duty." Philip made no reply ; when, after a few moments, Amine continued " But one short week, Philip " " I would it had been but one day," replied he ; "it would have been long enough. He has come too soon the one- eyed monster." " Nay, not so, Philip. I thank him for the week 'tis but a short time to wean myself from happiness. I grant you, that were I to tease, to vex, to unman you with my tears, my prayers, or my upbraidings (as some wives would do, Philip), one day would be more than sufficient for such a scene of weakness on my part, and misery on yours. But no, Philip, your Amine knows her duty better. You must go like some knight of old to perilous encounter, perhaps to death ; but Amine will ann you, and show her love by closing carefully each rivet to protect you in your peril, and will see you depart full of hope and confidence, anticipating your return. A week is not too long, Philip, when employed as I trust I shall employ it a week to interchange our sentiments, to hear your voice, to listen to your words (each of which will be engraven on my heart's memory), to ponder on them, and feed my love with them in your absence and in my solitude. No, no ! Philip ; I thank God that there is yet a week." " And so do I, then, Amine ; and, after all, we knew that this must come." " Yes ; but my love was so potent that it banished memory." "And yet during our separation your love must feed on memory, Amine." Amine sighed. Here their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Mynheer Poots, who, struck with the alteration in Amine's radiant features, exclaimed, " Holy Prophet ! what is the matter now ? " " Nothing more than what we all knew before," replied Philip; "I am about to leave you the ship will sail in a week." 60 THE PHANTOM SHIP w Oh ! you will sail in a week ? " There was a curious expression in the face of the old man as he endeavoured to suppress, before Amine and her husband, the joy which he felt at Philip's departure. Gradually he subdued his features into gravity, and said " That is very bad news, indeed." No answer was made by Amine or Philip, who quitted the room together. We must pass over this week, which was occupied in pre- parations for Philip's departure. We must pass over the heroism of Amine, who controlled her feelings, racked as she was with intense agony at the idea of separating from her adored husband. We cannot dwell upon the conflicting emo- tions in the breast of Philip, who left competence, happiness, and love, to encounter danger, privation, and death. Now, at one time he would almost resolve to remain, and then at others, as he took the relic from his bosom and remembered his vow registered upon it, he was nearly as anxious to depart. Amine, too, as she fell asleep in her husband's arms, would count the few hours left them ; or she would shudder, as she lay awake and the wind howled, at the prospect of what Philip would have to encounter. It was a long week to both of them, and, although they thought that time flew fast, it was almost a relief when the morning came that was to separate them ; for to their feelings, which, from regard to each other, had been pent up and controlled, they could then give vent ; their surcharged bosoms could be relieved ; certainty had driven away suspense, and hope was still left to cheer them and brighten up the dark horizon of the future. " Philip," said Amine, as they sat together with their hands entwined. "I shall not feel so much when you are gone. I do not forget that all this was told me before we were wed, and that for my love I took the hazard. My fond heart often tells me that you will return ; but it may deceive me return you may, but not in life. In this room I shall await you ; on this sofa, removed to its former station, I shall sit ; and if you cannot appear to me alive, oh, refuse me not, if it be possible, to appear to me when dead. I shall fear no storm, no bursting open of the window. Oh no ! I shall hail the presence even of your spirit. Once nrre ; let me but see you let me be assured that you are dead and then I shall know that J have 61 THE PHANTOM SHIP no more to live for in this world, and shall hasten to join you in a world of bliss. Promise me, Philip." " I promise all you ask, provided Heaven will so permit ; but, Amine," and Philip's lips trembled, " I cannot merciful God ! I am indeed tried. Amine, I can stay no longer." Amine's dark eyes were fixed upon her husband she could not speak her features were convulsed nature could no longer hold up against her excess of feeling she fell into his arms, and lay motionless. Philip, about to impress a last kiss upon her pale lips, perceived that she had fainted. "She feels not now," said he, as he laid her upon the sofa ; " it is better that it should be so too soon will she awake to misery." Summoning to the assistance of his daughter Mynheer Poots, who was in the adjoining room, Philip caught up his hat, im- printed one more fervent kiss upon her forehead, burst from the house, and was out of sight long before Amine had recovered from her swoon. CHAPTER VIII BEFORE we follow Philip Vanderdecken in his venturous career, it will be necessary to refresh the memory of our readers by a succinct recapitulation of the circumstances that had directed the enterprise of the Dutch towards the country of the East, which was now proving to them a source of wealth, which they considered as inexhaustible. Let us begin at the beginning. Charles the Fifth, after having possessed the major part of Europe, retired from the world, for reasons best known to himself, and divided his kingdoms between Ferdinand and Philip. To Ferdinand he gave Austria and its dependencies ; to Philip, Spain ; but to make the division more equal and palatable to the latter, he threw the Low Countries, with the few millions vegetating upon them, into the bargain. Having thus disposed of his fellow-mortals much to his own satisfaction, he went into a convent, reserving for himself a small income, twelve men, and a pony. Whether he afterwards repented his hobby, or mounted his pony, is not recorded ; but this is certain that in two years he died. 62 THE PHANTOM SHIP Philip thought (as many have thought before and since) that he had a right to do what he pleased with his own. He therefore took away from the Hollanders most of their liberties : to make amends, however, he gave them the In- quisition ; but the Dutch grumbled, and Philip, to stop their grumbling, burnt a few of them. Upon which the Dutch, who are aquatic in their propensities, protested against a religion which was much too warm for their constitutions. In short, heresy made great progress ; and the Duke of Alva was despatched with a large army, to prove to the Hollanders that the Inquisition was the very best of all possible arrange- ments, and that it was infinitely better that a man should be burnt for half-an-hour in this world than for eternity in the next. This slight difference of opinion was the occasion of a war, which lasted about eight years, and which, after having saved some hundreds of thousands the trouble of dving in their beds, at length ended in the Seven United Provinces being declared independent. Now we must go back again. For a century after Vasco de Gama had discovered the passage round the Cape of Good Hope, the Portuguese were interfered with by other nations. At last the adventurous spirit of the English nation was roused. The passage to India by the Cape had been claimed by the Portuguese as their sole right, and they defended it bv force. For a long time no private company ventured to oppose them, and the trade was not of that apparent value to induce any govern- ment to embark in a war upon the question. The English adventurers, therefore, turned their attention to the discovery of a north-west passage to India, with which the Portuguese could have no right to interfere, and in vain attempts to dis- cover that passage, the best part of the fifteenth century was employed. At last they abandoned their endeavours, and resolved no longer to be deterred by the Portuguese pre- tensions. After one or two unsuccessful expeditions, an armament was fitted out and put under the orders of Drake. This courageous and successful navigator accomplished more than the most sanguine had anticipated. He returned to England in the month of May 1580, after a voyage which occupied him nearly three years, bringing home with him great riches, 63 THE PHANTOM SHIP and having made most favourable arrangements with the king of the Molucca Islands. His success was followed up by Cavendish and others in 1600. The English East India Company, in the meanwhile, received their first charter from the government, and had now been, with various success, carrying on a trade for up- wards of fifty years. During the time that the Dutch were vassals to the crown of Spain, it was their custom to repair to Lisbon for the pro- ductions of the East, and afterwards to distribute them through Europe ; but when they quarrelled with Philip, they were no longer admitted as retailers of his Indian produce : the conse- quence was that, while asserting and fighting for their inde- pendence, they had also fitted out expeditions to India. They were successful; and in 1602 the various speculators were, by the government, formed into a company, upon the same principles and arrangement as those which had been chartered in England. At the time, therefore, to which we are reverting, the English and Dutch had been trading in the Indian seas for more than fifty years ; and the Portuguese had lost nearly all their power, from the alliances and friendships which their rivals had formed with the potentates of the East, who had suffered from the Portuguese avarice and cruelty. Whatever may have been the sum of obligation which the Dutch owed to the English for the assistance they received from them during their struggle for independence, it does not appear that their gratitude extended beyond the Cape ; for, on the other side of it, the Portuguese, English, and Dutch fought, and captured each other's vessels without ceremony ; and there was no law but that of main force. The mother countries were occasionally called upon to interfere ; but the interference up to the above time had produced nothing more than a paper war ; it being very evident that all parties were in the wrong. In l6. r >0 Cromwell usurped the throne of England, and the year afterwards, having, among other points, vainly demanded of the Dutch satisfaction for the murder of his regicide ambas- sador which took place in this year, and some compensation for the cruelties exercised on the English at Amboyne some thirty years before, he declared war with Holland. To prove that he THE PHANTOM SHIP was in earnest, he seized more than two hundred Dutch vessels, and the Dutch then (very unwillingly) prepared for war. Blake and Van Tromp met, and the naval combats were most obstinate. In the " History of England " the victory is almost invariably given to the English, but in that of Holland to the Dutch. By all accounts, these engagements were so obstinate that in each case they were both well beaten. How- ever, in 1654 peace was signed ; the Dutchman promising " to take his hat off" whenever he should meet an Englishman on the high seas a mere act of politeness, which Mynheer did not object to, as it cost nothing. And now, having detailed the state of things up to the time of Philip's embarkation, we shall proceed with our story. As soon as Philip was clear of his own threshold, he hastened away as though he were attempting to escape from his own painful thoughts. In two days he arrived at Amsterdam, where his first object was to procure a small, but strong steel chain, to replace the ribbon by which the relic had hitherto been secured round his neck. Having done this, he hastened to embark with his effects on board of the Tcr Schilling. Philip had not forgotten to bring with him the money which he had agreed to pay the captain, in consideration of being received on board as an apprentice rather than a sailor. He had also furnished himself with a further sum for his own exigencies. It was late in the evening when he arrived on board of the Tcr Schilling, which lay at single anchor, sur- rounded by the other vessels composing the Indian fleet. The captain, wliose name was K loots, received him with kindness, showed him his berth, and then went below in the hold to decide a question relative to the cargo, leaving Philip on deck to his own reflections. "And this then," thought Philip, as he leaned against the taffrail and looked forward " this, then, is the vessel in which my first attempt is to be made. First and perhaps last. How little do those with whom I am about to sail imagine the purport of my embarkation ! How different are my views from those of others ! Do I seek a fortune ? No ! Is it to satisfy curiosity and a truant spirit ? No ! I seek communion with the dead. Can I meet the dead without danger to myself and those who sail with me ? I should think not. for I cannot join it but in death. Did they surmise my wishes 65 E THE PHANTOM SHIP and intentions, would they permit me to remain one hour on board ? Superstitious as seamen are said to be, they might find a good excuse, if they knew my mission, not only for their superstition, but for ridding themselves of one on such an awful errand. Awful indeed ! and how to be accom- plished ? Heaven alone, with perseverance on my part, can solve the mystery." And Philip's thoughts reverted to his Amine. He folded his arms, and entranced in meditation, with his eyes raised to the firmament, he appeared to watch the flying scud. "Had you not better go below?" said a mild voice, which made Philip start from his reverie. It was that of the first mate, whose name was Hillebrant, a short, well-set man of about thirty years of age. His hair was flaxen, and fell in long flakes upon his shoulders, his com- plexion fair, and his eyes of a soft blue ; although there was little of the sailor in his appearance, few knew or did their duty better. " I thank you," replied Philip ; " I had, indeed, forgotten myself, and where I was : my thoughts were far away. Good night, and many thanks." The Ter Schilling, like most of the vessels of that period, was very different in her build and fitting from those of the present day. She was ship-rigged, and of about four hundred tons burden. Her bottom was nearly flat, and her sides fell in (as she rose above the water), so that her upper decks were not half the width of the hold. All the vessels employed bv the Company being armed, she had her main deck clear of goods,and carried six nine-pounders on each broadside ; her ports were small and oval. There was a great spring in all her decks that is to say, she ran with a curve forward and aft. On her forecastle another small deck ran from the knight-heads, which was called the top-gallant forecastle. Her quarter-deck was broken with a poop, which rose high out of the water. The bowsprit staved very much, and was to appearance almost as a fourth mast : the more so, as she carried a square spritsail and sprit- topsail. On her quarter-deck and poop-bulwarks were fixed in sockets imple- ments of warfare now long in disuse, but what were then known by the names of cohorns and patteraroes ; they turned round on a swivel, and were pointed by an iron handle fixed to 66 THE PHANTOM SHIP the breech. The sail abaft the mizen-mast (corresponding to the driver or spanker of the present day) was fixed upon a lateen-yard. It is hardly necessary to add (after this descrip- tion) that the dangers of a long voyage were not a little in- creased by the peculiar structure of the vessels, which (although with such top hamper, and so much wood above water, they could make good way before a favourable breeze) could hold no wind, and had but little chance if caught upon a lee-shore. The crew of the Ter Schilling were composed of the captain, two mates, two pilots, and forty-five men. The supercargo had not yet come on board. The cabin (under the poop) was appropriated to the supercargo; but the main-deck cabin to the captain and mates, who composed the whole of the cabin mess. When Philip awoke the next morning, he found that the topsails were hoisted, and the anchor short-stay apeak. Some of the other vessels of the fleet were under weigh and stand- ing out. The weather was fine and the water smooth, and the bustle and novelty of the scene were cheering to his spirits. The captain, Mynheer Kloots, was standing on the poop with a small telescope made of pasteboard to his eve, anxiously looking towards the town. Mynheer Kloots, as usual, had his pipe in his mouth, and the smoke which he puffed from it for a time obscured the lenses of his telescope. Philip went up the poop ladder and saluted him. Mynheer Kloots was a person of no moderate dimensions, and the quantity of garments which he wore added no little to his apparent bulk. The outer garments exposed to view were, a rough fox-skin cap upon his head, from under which appeared the edge of a red worsted nightcap ; a red plush waistcoat, with large metal buttons ; a jacket of green cloth, over which he wore another of larger dimensions of coarse blue cloth, which came down as low as what would be called a spencer. Below he had black plush breeches, light blue worsted stock- ings, shoes, and broad silver buckles ; round his waist was girded, with a broad belt, a canvas apron, which descended in thick folds nearly to his knee. In his belt was a large broad- bladed knife in a sheath of shark's skin. Such was the attire of Mynheer Kloots, captain of the Ter Schilling. He was as tall as he was corpulent. His face was oval, and his features small in proportion to the size of his frame. His grizzly hair fluttered in the breeze, and his nose (although 67 THE PHANTOM SHIP quite straight) was, at the tip, fiery red from frequent applica- tion to his bottle of schnapps, and the heat of a small pipe which seldom left his lips, except for liim to give an order, or for it to be replenished. " Good morning, my son," said the captain, taking his pipe out of his mouth for a moment. " We are detained by the supercargo, who appears not over- willing to come on board ; the boat has been on shore this hour waiting for him, and we shall be last of the fleet under weigh. I wish the Company would let us sail without these gentlemen, who are (in my opinion) a great hindrance to business ; but they think other- wise on shore." " What is their duty on board ? " replied Philip. " Their duty is to look after the cargo and the traffic, and if they kept to that, it would not be so bad ; but they interfere with everything else and everybody, studying little except their own comforts ; in fact, they play the king on board, knowing that we dare not affront them, as a word from them would prejudice the vessel when again to be chartered. The Company insist upon their being received with all honours. We salute them with five guns on their arrival on board." " Do you know anything of this one whom you expect ? " " Nothing, but from report. A brother captain of mine (with whom he has sailed) told me that he is most fearful of the dangers of the sea, and much taken up with his own importance." " I wish he would come," replied Philip ; " I am most anxious that we should sail." " You must be of a wandering disposition, my son : I hear that you leave a comfortable home, and a pretty wife to boot" " I am most anxious to see the world," replied Philip ; "and I must learn to sail a ship before I purchase one, and try to make the fortune that I covet." (Alas ! how different from my real wishes, thought Philip, as he made this reply.) " Fortunes are made, and fortunes are swallowed up too, by the ocean," replied the captain. " If I could turn this good ship into a good house, with plenty of guilders to keep the house warm, you would not find me standing on this poop. I have doubled the Cape twice, which is often enough for any man ; the third time may not be so lucky." THE PHANTOM SHIP " Is it so dangerous, then ? " said Philip. " As dangerous as tides and currents, rocks and sand-banks, hard gales and heavy seas, can make it no more ! Even when you anchor in the bay, on this side of the Cape, you ride in fear and trembling, for you may be blown away from your anchor to sea, or be driven on shore among the savages, before the men can well put on their clothing. But when once you're well on the other side of the Cape, then the water dances to the beams of the sun as if it were merry, and you may sail for weeks with a cloudless sky and a following breeze, without starting tack or sheet, or having to take your pipe out of your mouth." " What ports shall we go into, Mynheer ? " " Of that I can say but little. Gambroon, in the Gulf of Persia, will probably be the first rendezvous of the whole fleet. Then we shall separate : some will sail direct for Bantam, in the island of Java ; others will have orders to trade down the Straits for camphor, gum, benzoin, and wax ; they have also gold and the teeth of the elephant to barter with us : there (should we be sent thither) you must be care- ful with the natives, Mynheer Vanderdecken. They are fierce and treacherous, and their curved knives (or creeses, as they call them), are sharp and deadly poisoned. I have had hard fighting in those Straits, both with Portuguese and English." " But we are all at peace now." "True, my son; but when round the Cape, we must not trust to papers signed at home ; and the English press us hard, and tread upon our heels wherever we go. They must be checked ; and I suspect our fleet is so large and well- appointed in expectation of hostilities." " How long do you expect your voyage may occupy us ? " " That's as may be : but I should say about two years ; nay, if not detained by the factors, as I expect we shall be, for some hostile service, it may be less." " Two years," thought Philip, " two years from Amine ! " and he sighed deeply, for he felt that their separation might be for ever. " Nay, my son, two years is not so long," said Mynheer Kloots, who observed the passing cloud on Philips brow. "I was once five year away, and was unfortunate, for I brought THE PHANTOM SHIP home nothing, not even my ship. I was sent to Chittagong, on the east side of the great Bay of Bengala, and lay for three months in the river. The chiefs of the country would detain me by force ; they would not barter for my cargo, or permit me to seek another market My powder had been landed, and I could make no resistance. The worms ate through the bottom of my vessel, and she sank at her anchors. They knew it would take place, and that then they would have my cargo at their own price. Another vessel brought us home. Had I not been so treacherously served, I should have had no need to sail this time ; and now my gains are small, the Company forbidding all private trading. But here he comes at last ; they have hoisted the ensign on the staff in the boat ; there they have shoved off. Mynheer Hillebrant, see the gunners ready with their linstocks to salvo the supercargo." " What duty do you wish me to perform ? " observed Philip. " In what can I be useful ? " " At present you can be of little use, except in those heavy gales in which every pair of hands is valuable. You must look and learn for some time yet ; but you can make a fair copy of the journal kept for the inspection of the Company, and may assist me in various ways, as soon as the unpleasant nausea, felt by those who first embark, has subsided. As a remedy, I should propose that you gird a handkerchief tight round your body so as to compress the stomach, and make frequent application to my bottle of schnapps, which you will find always at your service. But now to receive the factor of the most puissant Company. Mynheer Hillebrant, let them dis- charge the cannon." The guns were fired, and soon after the smoke had cleared away, the boat, with its long ensign trailing on the water, was pulled alongside. Philip watched the appearance of the supercargo ; but he remained in the boat until several of the boxes with the initials and arms of the Company were first handed on the deck ; at last the supercargo appeared. He was a small, spare, wizen-faced man, with a three- cornered cocked hat, bound with broad gold lace, upon his head, under which appeared a full-bottomed flowing wig, the curls of which descended low upon his shoulders. His coat was of crimson velvet, with broad flaps ; his waistcoat of white Silk, worked in coloured flowers, and descending half-way 70 THE PHANTOM SHIP down to his knees. His breeches were of black satin, and his legs were covered with white silk stockings. Add to this, gold buckles at his knees and in his shoes, lace ruffles to his wrists, and a silver-mounted cane in his hand, and the reader has the entire dress of Mynheer Jacob Jaiiz Von Stroom, the supercargo of the Honourable Company, appointed to the good ship Tcr Schilling. As he looked round him, surrounded at a respectful dis- tance by the captain, officers, and men of the ship, with their caps in their hands, the reader might be reminded of the picture of the " Monkey who had seen the world " surrounded by his tribe. There was not, however, the least inclination on the part of the seamen to laugh, even at his flowing, full- bottomed wig : respect was at that period paid to dress ; and although Mynheer Von Stroom could not be mistaken for a sailor, he was known to be the supercargo of the Company, and a very great man. He therefore received all the respect due to so important a personage. Mynheer Von Stroom did not, however, appear very anxious to remain on deck. He requested to be shown into his cabin, and followed the captain aft, picking his way among the coils of ropes with which his path was encumbered. The door was opened, and the supercargo disappeared. The ship was then got under weigh, the men had left the windlass, the sails had been trimmed, and they were securing the anchor on board, when the bell of the poop-cabin (appropriated to the super- cargo) was pulled with great violence. " What can that be ? " said Mynheer Kloots (who was for- ward), taking the pipe out of his mouth. " Mynheer Vander- decken, will you see what is the matter ? " Philip went aft, as the pealing of the bell continued, and opening the cabin door, discovered the supercargo perched upon the table and pulling the bell-rope, which hung over its centre, with every mark of fear in his countenance. His wig was off, and his bare skull gave him an appearance peculiarly ridiculous. " What is the matter, sir ? " inquired Philip. " Matter ! " spluttered Mynheer Von Stroom ; " call the troops in with their firelocks. Quick, sir. Am I to be murdered, torn to pieces, and devoured ? For mercy's sake, sir, don't stare, but do something look, it's coming to the 71 THE PHANTOM SHIP table ! Oh dear ! Oh dear ! " continued the supercargo, evi- dently terrified out of his wits. Philip, whose eyes had been fixed on Mynheer Von Stroom, turned them in the direction pointed out, and much to his astonishment perceived a small bear upon the deck, who was amusing himself with the supercargo's flowing wig, which he held in his paws, tossing it about, and now and then burying his muzzle in it. The unexpected sight of the animal was at first a shock to Philip ; but a moment's consideration assured him that the animal must be harmless, or it never would have been permitted to remain loose in the vessel. Nevertheless, Philip had no wish to approach the animal, whose disposition he was unacquainted with, when the appear- ance of Mynheer Kloots put an end to his difficulty. " What is the matter, Mynheer ? " said the captain. " Oh ! I see ; it is Johannes," continued the captain, going up to the bear, and saluting him with a kick, as he recovered the supercargo's wig. " Out of the cabin, Johannes ! Out, sir ! " cried Mynheer Kloots, kicking the breech of the bear till the animal had escaped through the door. " Mynheer Von Stroom, I am very sorry here is your wig. Shut the door, Mynheer Vanderdecken, or the beast may come back, for he is very fond of me." As the door was shut between Mynheer Von Stroom and the object of his terror, the little man slid off the table to the high-backed chair near it, shook out the damaged curls of his wig, and replaced it on his head ; pulled out his ruffles, and assuming an air of magisterial importance, struck his cane on the deck, and then spoke. " Mynheer Kloots, what is the meaning of this disrespect to the supercargo of the puissant Company ? " " God in heaven 1 no disrespect, Mynheer ; the animal is a bear, as you see ; he is very tame, even with strangers. He belongs to me. I have had him since he was three months old. It was all a mistake. The mate, Mynheer Hillebrant, put him in the cabin, that he might be out of the way while the duty was carrying on, and he quite forgot that he was here. I am very sorry, Mynheer Von Stroom ; but he will not come here again, unless you wish to play with him." " Play with him ! I ! supercargo to the Company, play with 72 THE PHANTOM SHIP a bear J Mynheer Kloots, the animal must be thrown oven- board immediately." " Nay, nay ; I cannot throw overboard an animal that I hold in much affection, Mynheer Von Stroom ; but he shall not trouble you." te Then, Captain Kloots, you will have to deal with the Com- pany, to whom 1 shall represent the affair. Your charter will be cancelled, and your freight-money will be forfeited." Kloots was, like most Dutchmen, not a little obstinate, and this imperative behaviour on the part of the supercargo raised his bile. " There is nothing in the charter that prevents my having an animal on board," replied Kloots. " By the regulations of the Company," replied Von Stroom, falling back in his chair with an important air, and crossing his thin legs, "you are required to receive on board strange and curious animals, sent home by the governors and factors to be presented to crowned heads- such as lions, tigers, elephants, and other productions of the East ; but in no instance is it permitted to the commanders of chartered ships to receive on board, on their own account, animals of any description, which must be considered under the offence of private trading." "My bear is not for sale, Mynheer Von Stroom." "It must immediately be sent out of the ship, Mynheer Kloots. I order you to send it away on your peril to refuse." "Then we will drop the anchor again, Mynheer Von Stroom, and send on shore to headquarters to decide the point. If the Company insists that the brute be put on shore, be it so ; but recollect, Mynheer Von Stroom, we shall lose the protection of the fleet, and have to sail alone. Shall I drop the anchor, Mynheer ? " This observation softened down the pertinacity of the super- cargo ; he had no wish to sail alone, and the fear of this con- tingency was more powerful than the fear of the bear. " Mynheer Kloots, I will not be too severe ; if the animal is chained, so that it does not approach me, I will consent to its remaining on board." " I will keep it out of your way as much as I can ; but as for chaining up the poor animal, it will howl all day and night, and you will have no sleep, Mynheer Von Stroom," replied Kloots. The supercargo, who perceived that the captain was positive, and that his threats were disregarded, did all that a man could 13 THE PHANTOM SHIP do who could not help himself. He vowed vengeance in his own mind, and then, with an air of condescension, observed " Upon those conditions, Mynheer Kloots, your animal may remain on board." Mynheer Kloots and Philip then left the cabin ; the former, who was in no very good humour, muttering as he walked away " If the Company send their monkeys on board, I think I may well have my bear." And, pleased with his joke, Myn- heer Kloots recovered his good humour. CHAPTER IX W E must allow the Indian fleet to pursue its way to the Cape with every variety of wind and weather. Some had parted company ; but the rendezvous was Table Bay, from which they were again to start together. Philip Vanderdecken was soon able to render some service on board. He studied his duty diligently, for employment prevented him from dwelling too much upon the cause of his embarkation, and he worked hard at the duties of the ship, for the exercise procured for him that sleep which otherwise would have been denied. He was soon a favourite of the captain, and intimate with Hillebrant, the first mate ; the second mate, Struys, was a morose young man, with whom he had little intercourse. As for the supercargo, Mynheer Jacob Janz Von Stroom, he seldom ventured out of his cabin. The bear, Johannes, was not confined, and therefore Mynheer Von Stroom confined him- self ; hardly a day passed that he did not look over a letter which he had framed upon the subject, all ready to forward to the Company ; and each time that lie perused it he made some alteration, which he considered would give additional force to his complaint, and would prove still more injurious to the interests of Captain Kloots. In the meantime, in happy ignorance of all that was passing in the poop-cabin, Mynheer Kloots smoked his pipe, drank his schnapps, and played with Johannes. The animal had also contracted a great affection for Philip, and used to walk the watch with him. THE PHANTOM SHIP There was another party in the ship whom we must not lose sight of the one-eyed pilot, Schriften, who appeared to have imbibed a great animosity towards our hero, as well as to his dumb favourite the bear. As Philip held the rank of an officer, Schriften dared not openly affront, though he took every opportunity of annoying him, and was constantly inveighing against him before the ship's company. To the bear he was more openly inveterate, and seldom passed it without bestow- ing upon it a severe kick, accompanied with a horrid curse. Although no one on board appeared to be fond of this man, everybody appeared to be afraid of him, and he had obtained a control over the seamen which appeared unaccountable. Such was the state of affairs on board the good ship Ter Schilling, when, in company with two others, she lay becalmed about two days' sail to the Cape. The weather was intensely hot, for it was the summer in those southern latitudes, and Philip, who had been lying down under the awning spread over the poop, was so overcome with the heat, that he had fallen asleep. He awoke with a shivering sensation of cold over his whole body, particularly at his chest, and half opening his eyes he perceived the pilot, Schriften, leaning over him, and holding between his finger and his thumb a portion of the chain which had not been concealed, and to which was attached the sacred relic. Philip closed them again, to ascertain what were the man's intentions : he found that he gradually dragged out the chain, and when the relic was clear, attempted to pass the whole over his head, evidently to gain possession of it. Upon his attempt Philip started up and seized him by the waist. t( Indeed ! " cried Philip, with an indignant look, as he released the chain from the pilot's hand. But Schriften appeared not in the least confused at being detected in his attempt ; looking with his malicious one eye at Philip, he mockingly observed " Does that chain hold her picture ? he ! he ! " Vanderdecken rose, pushed him away, and folded his arms. " I advise you not to be quite so curious, Master Pilot, or you may repent it." "Or perhaps," continued the pilot, quite regardless of Philip's wrath, " it may be a child's caul, a sovereign remedy against drowning." 75 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Go forward to your duty, sir," cried Philip. " Or, as you are a Catholic, the finger-nail of a saint ; or, yes, I have it a piece of the holy cross." Philip started. " That's it ! that's it ! " cried Schriften, who now went for- ward to where the seamen were standing at the gangway. " News for you, my lads ! " said he ; " we've a bit of the holy cross aboard, and so we may defy the devil ! " Philip, hardly knowing why, had followed Schriften as he descended the poop-ladder, and was forward on the quarter- deck when the pilot made this remark to the seamen. " Ay ! ay ! " replied an old seaman to the pilot ; " not only the devil, but the Flying Dutchman to boot." " The Flying Dutchman," thought Philip, " can that refer to ? " and Philip walked a step or two forward, so as to conceal himself behind the mainmast, hoping to obtain some information, should they continue the conversation. In this he was not disappointed. " They say that to meet with him is worse than meeting with the devil," observed another of the crew. " Who ever saw him ? " said another. " He has been seen, that's sartain, and just as sartain that ill luck follows the vessel that falls in with him." " And where is he to be fallen in with ? " " Oh ! they say that's not so sartain but he cruises off the Cape." " I should like to know the whole long and short of the story," said a third. " I can only tell what I've heard. It's a doomed vessel ; they were pirates, and cut the captain's throat, I believe." " No ! no ! " cried Schriften, " the captain is in her now ; and a villain he was. They say that, like somebody else on board of us now, he left a very pretty wife, and that he was very fond of her." " How do they know that, pilot ? " " Because he always wants to send letters home when he boards vessels that he falls in with. But, woe to the vessel that takes charge of them ! she is sure to be lost, with every soul on board ! " " I wonder where you heard all this," said one of the men. " Did you ever see the vessel ? " 76 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Yes, I did ! " screamed Schriften ; but, as if recovering himself, his scream subsided into his usual giggle, and he added, " but we need not fear her, boys ; we've a bit of the true cross on board." Schriften then walked aft as if to avoid being questioned, when he perceived Philip by the mainmast. "So, I'm not the only one curious? he! he! Pray did you bring that on board, in case we should fall in with the Flying Dutchman ? " " I fear no Flying Dutchman," replied Philip, confused. " Now I think of it, you are of the same name ; at least they say that his name was Vanderdecken eh ?" " There are many Vanderdeckens in the world besides me," replied Philip, who had recovered his composure ; and having made this reply he walked away to the poop of the vessel. " One would almost imagine this malignant one-eyed wretch was aware of the cause of my embarkation," mused Philip; " but no ! that cannot be. Why do I feel such a chill whenever he approaches me ? I wonder if others do ; or whether it is a mere fancy on the part of Amine and myself. I dare ask no questions. Strange, too, that the man should feel such malice towards me. I never injured him. What I have, just overheard confirms all ; but there needed no con- firmation. O Amine ! Amine ! but for thee, and I would rejoice to solve this riddle at the expense of life. God in mercy check the current of my brain," muttered Philip, " or my reason cannot hold its seat ! " In three days the Ter Schilling and her consorts arrived at Table Bay, where they found the remainder of the fleet at anchor waiting for them. Just at that period the Dutch had formed a settlement at the Cape of Good Hope, where the Indian fleets used to water and obtain cattle from the Hot- tentot tribes who lived on the coast, and who for a brass button or a large nail would willingly offer a fat bullock. A few days were occupied in completing the water of the squadron, and then the ships, having received from the admiral their instruc- tions as to the rendezvous in case of parting company, and made every preparation for the bad weather which they anticipated, again weighed their anchors and proceeded on their voyage. For three days they beat against light and baffling winds, making but little progress ; on the third, the breeze sprang up strong from the southward, until it increased to a gale, and 77 THE PHANTOM SHIP the fleet were blown down to the northward of the bay. . On the seventh day the Ter Schilling found herself alone, but the weather had moderated. Sail was again made upon the vessel, and her head put to the eastward, that she might run in for the land. " We are unfortunate in thus parting with all our consorts," observed Mynheer Kloots to Philip, as they were standing at the gangway ; " but it must be near meridian, and the sun will enable me to discover our latitude. It is difficult to say how far we may have been swept by the gale and the currents to the northward. Boy, bring up my cross-staff, and be mindful that you do not strike it against anything as you come up." The cross-staff at that time was the simple instrument used to discover the latitude, which it would give to a nice observer to within five or ten miles. Quadrants and sextants were the invention of a much later period. Indeed, considering that they had so little knowledge of navigation and the variation of the compass, and that their easting and westing could only be computed by dead reckoning, it is wonderful how our ancestors traversed the ocean in the way they did, with comparatively so few accidents. " We are full three degrees to the northward of the Cape," observed Mynheer Kloots, after he had computed his latitude. " The currents must be running strong ; the wind is going down fast, and we shall have a change, if I mistake not." Towards the evening it fell calm, with a heavy swell setting towards the shore ; shoals of seals appeared .on the surface, following the vessel as she drove before the swell ; the fish darted and leaped in every direction, and the ocean around them appeared to be full of life as the sun slowly descended to the horizon. " What is that noise we hear ? " observed Philip ; " it sounds like distant thunder." " I hear it," replied Mynheer Kloots. " Aloft there, do you see the land ? " " Yes," replied the man, after a pause in ascending the top- mast shrouds. " It is right ahead low sand-hills, and the sea breaking high." "Then that must be the noise we hear. We sweep in fast with this heavy ground-swell. I wish the breeze would spring up." 78 THE PHANTOM SHIP The sun was dipping under the horizon, and the calm still continued ; the swell had driven the Ter Schilling so rapidly on the shore that now they could see the breakers, which fell over with the noise of thunder. " Do you know the coast, pilot ? " observed the captain to Schriften, who stood by. " Know it well," replied Schriften ; " the sea breaks in twelve fathoms at least. In half-an-hour the good ship will be beaten into toothpicks, without a breeze to help us." And the little man giggled as if pleased at the idea. The anxiety of Mynheer Kloots was not to be concealed ; his pipe was every moment in and out of his mouth. The crew remained in groups on the forecastle and gangway, listening with dismay to the fearful roaring of the breakers. The sun had sunk down below the horizon, and the gloom of night was gradually adding to the alarm of the crew of the Ter Schilling. te We must lower down the boats," said Mynheer Kloots to the first mate, "and try to tow her off. We cannot do much good, I'm afraid ; but at all events the boats will be ready for the men to get into before she drives on shore. Get the tow ropes out and lower down the boats, while I go in to acquaint the supercargo." Mynheer Von Stroom was sitting in all the dignity of his office, and it being Sunday, had put on his very best wig. He was once more reading over the letter to the Company, relative to the bear, when Mynheer Kloots made his appearance, and infonned him in a few words that they were in a situation of peculiar danger, and that in all probability the ship would be in pieces in less than half-an-hour. At this alarming intel- ligence, Mynheer Von Stroom jumped up from his chair, and in his hurry and fear knocked down the candle which had just been lighted. " In danger ! Mynheer Kloots ! why, the water is smooth and the wind down! My hat where is my hat and my cane? I will go on deck. Quick ! A light Mynheer Kloots, if you please to order a light to be brought; I can find nothing in the dark. Mynheer Kloots, why do you not answer ? Mercy on me ! he is gone and has left me." Mynheer Kloots had gone to fetch a light, and now returned with it. Mynheer Von Stroom put on his hat, and walked out THE PHANTOM SHIP of the cabin. The boats were down, and the ship's head had been turned round from the land; but it was now quite dark, and nothing was to be seen but the white line of foam created by the breakers as they dashed with an awful noise against the shore. "Mynheer Kloots, if you please, I'll leave the ship directly. Let my boat come alongside I must have the largest boat for the Honourable Company's service for the papers and myself." " I'm afraid not, Mynheer Von Stroom," replied Kloots ; " our boats will hardly hold the men as it is, and every man's life is as valuable to himself as yours is to you." " But, Mynheer, I am the Company's supercargo. I order you I will have one refuse if you dare." " I dare, and do refuse," replied the captain, taking his pipe out of his mouth. " Well, well," replied Mynheer Von Stroom, who now lost all presence of mind "we will, sir .as soon as we arrive Lord help us ! we are lost. O Ixml! O Lord!" And here Mynheer Von Stroom, not knowing why, hurried down to the cabin, and in his haste tumbled over the bear Johannes, who crossed his path, and in his fall his hat and flowing wig parted company with his head. " O mercy ! where am I ? Help help here ! for the Honourable Company's supercargo ! " "Cast off there in the boats, and come on board," cried Mynheer Kloots ; " we have no time to spare. Quick now, Philip, put in the compass, the water, and the biscuit; we must leave her in five minutes." So appalling was the roar of the breakers, that it was with difficulty that the orders could be heard. In the meantime Mynheer Von Stroom lay upon the deck, kicking, sprawling, and crying for help. "There is a light breeze off the shore," cried Philip, holding up his hand. "There is, but I'm afraid it is too late. Hand the things into the boats, and be cool, my men. We have yet a chance of saving her, if the wind freshens." They were now so near to the breakers that they felt the swell in which the vessel lay becalmed turned over here and there on its long line, but the breeze freshened, and the vessel 80 THE PHANTOM SHIP was stationary ! The men were all in the boats, with the exception of Mynheer Kloots, the mates, and Mynheer Von Stroom. " She goes through the water now/' said Philip. "Yes, I think we shall save her," replied the captain. "Steady as you go, Hillebrant," continued he to the first mate, who was at the helm. "We leave the breakers now only let the breeze hold ten minutes." The breeze was steady, the Ter Schilling stood off from the land ; again it fell calm, and again she was swept towards the breakers ; at last the breeze came off strong, and the vessel cleaved through the water. The men were called out of the boats; Mynheer Von Stroom was picked up along with his hat and wig, carried into the cabin, and in less than an hour the Ter Schilling was out of danger. " Now we will hoist up the boats," said Mynheer Kloots ; " and let us all, before we lie down to sleep, thank God for our deliverance." During that night the Ter Schilling made an offing of twenty miles, and then stood to the southward ; towards the morning the wind again fell, and it was nearly calm. Mynheer Kloots had been on deck about an hour, and had been talking with Hillebrant upon the danger of the evening, and the selfishness and pusillanimity of Mynheer Von Stroom, when a loud noise was heard in the poop-cabin. "What can that be?" said the captain; "has the good man lost his senses from the fright? Why, he is knocking the cabin to pieces." At this moment the servant of the supercargo ran out of the cabin. " Mynheer Kloots, hasten in help my master he will be killed the bear ! the bear ! " " The bear ! what, Johannes ? " cried Mynheer Kloots. " Why, the animal is as tame as a dog. I will go and see." But before Mynheer Kloots could walk into the cabin, out flew in his shirt the affrighted supercargo. " My God ! my God! am I to be murdered? eaten alive ?" cried he, running forward, and attempting to climb the fore-rigging. Mynheer Kloots followed the motions of Mynheer Von Stroom with surprise, and when he found him attempting to mount the rigging, he turned aft and walked into the cabin 4 81 F THE PHANTOM SHIP when be found, to his surprise, that Johannes was indeed doing mischief. The panelling of the state cabin of the supercargo had been beaten down, the wig boxes lay in fragments on the floor, the two spare wigs were lying by them, and upon them were strewed fragments of broken pots and masses of honey, which Johannes was licking up with peculiar gusto. The fact was, that when the ship anchored at Table Bay, Mynheer Von Stroom, who was very partial to honey, had obtained some from the Hottentots. The honey his careful servant had stowed away in jars, which he had placed at the bottom of the two long boxes, ready for his master's use during the remainder of the voyage. That morning the servant, fancying that the wig of the previous night had suffered when his master tumbled over the bear, opened one of the boxes to take out another. Johannes happened to come near the door, and scented the honey. Now, partial as Mynheer Von Stroom was to honey, all bears are still more so, and will venture everything to obtain it. Johannes had yielded to the impulse of his species, and following the scent, had come into the cabin, and was about to enter the sleeping-berth of Mynheer Stroom, when the servant slammed the door in his face ; whereupon Johannes beat in the panels, and found an en- trance. He then attacked the wig-boxes, and, by showing a most formidable set of teeth, proved to the servant, who attempted to drive him off, that he would not be trifled with. In the meanwhile, Mynheer Von Stroom was in the utmost terror; not aware of the purport of the bear's visit, he imagined that the animal's object was to attack him. His servant took to his heels after a vain effort to save the last box, and Mynheer Von Stroom, then finding himself alone, at length sprang out of his bed-place, and escaped, as we have mentioned, to the forecastle, leaving Johannes master of the field, and luxuriating upon the spolia opima. Mynheer Kloots immediately perceived how the case stood. He went up to the bear and spoke to him, then kicked him, but the bear would not leave the honey, and growled furiously at the interruption. "This is a bad job for you, Johannes," observed Mynheer Kloots ; " now you will leave the ship, for the supercargo has just grounds of complaint. Oh, well ! you must eat the honey, because you will." So saying, 82 THE PHANTOM SHIP Mynheer Kloots left the cabin, and went to look after the supercargo, who remained on the forecastle, with his bald head and meagre body, haranguing the men in his shirt, which fluttered in the breeze. " I am very sorry, Mynheer Von Stroom," said Kloots, " but the bear shall be sent out of the vessel." " Yes, yes, Mynheer Kloots ; but this is an affair for the most puissant Company the lives of their servants are not to be sacrificed to the folly of a sea-captain. I have nearly been torn to pieces." " The animal did not want you ; all he wanted was the honey," replied Kloots. " He has got it, and I myself cannot take it from him. There is no altering the nature of an animal. Will you be pleased to walk down into my cabin until the beast can be secured ? He shall not go loose again." Mynheer Von Stroom, who considered his dignity at vari ance with his appearance, and who, perhaps, was aware that majesty deprived of its externals was only a jest, thought it advisable to accept the offer. After some trouble, with the assistance of the seamen, the bear was secured and dragged away from the cabin, much against his will, for he had still some honey to lick off the curls of the full-bottomed wigs He was put into durance vile, having been caught in the flagrant act of burglary on the high seas. This new adventure was the topic of the day, for it was again a dead calm, and the ship lay motionless on the glassy wave. "The sun looks red as he sinks," observed Hillebrant to the captain, who with Philip was standing on the poop ; " we shall have wind before to-morrow, if I mistake not." " I am of your opinion," replied Mynheer Kloots. " It is strange that we do not fall in with any of the vessels of the fleet. They must all have been driven down here." fi Perhaps they have kept a wider offing." " It had been as well if we had done the same," said Kloots. " That was a narrow escape last night. There is such a thing as having too little as well as having too much wind." A confused noise was heard among the seamen, who were collected together, and looking in the direction of the vessel's quarter, " A ship ! No Yes, it is ! " was repeated more than once. 83 THE PHANTOM SHIP "They think they see a ship," said Schriften, coming on the poop. " He ! he ! " " Where ? " "There in the gloom!" said the pilot, pointing to the darkest quarter in the horizon, for the sun had set. The captain, Hillebrant, and Philip directed their eyes to the quarter pointed out, and thought they could perceive some- thing like a vessel. Gradually the gloom seemed to clear away, and a lambent pale blaze to light up that part of the horizon. Not a breath of wind was on the water the sea was like a mirror more and more distinct did the vessel appear, till her hull, masts, and yards were clearly visible. They looked and rubbed their eyes to help their vision, for scarcely could they believe that which they did see. In the centre of the pale light, which extended about fifteen degrees above the horizon, there was indeed a large ship about three miles dis- tant ; but although it was a perfect calm, she was to all appear- ance buffeting in a violent gale, plunging and lifting over a surface that was smooth as glass, now careening to her bearings, then recovering herself. Her topsails and mainsail were furled, and the yards pointed to the wind ; she had no sail set, but a close-reefed foresail, a storm staysail, and trysail abaft. She made little way through the water, but apparently neared them fast, driven down by the force of the gale. Each minute she was plainer to the view. At last she was seen to wear, and in so doing, before she was brought to the wind on the other tack, she was so close to them that they could distinguish the men on board : they could see the foaming water as it was hurled from her bows ; hear the shrill whistle of the boats- wain's pipes, the creaking of the ship's timbers, and the com- plaining of her masts ; and then the gloom gradually rose, and in a few seconds she had totally disappeared ! " God in heaven ! " exclaimed Mynheer Kloots. Philip felt a hand upon his shoulder, and the cold darted through his whole frame. He turned round and met the one eye of Schriften, who screamed in his ear PHILIP VANDERDECKEN That's the Flying Dutchman/" " ' There in the gloom ! ' said the pilot, pointing to the darkest quarter of the horizon." THE PHANTOM SHIP / CHAPTER X _L HE sudden gloom which had succeeded to the pale light had the effect of rendering every object still more indis- tinct to the astonished crew of the Ter Schilling. For a moment or more not a word was uttered by a soul on board. Some remained with their eyes still strained to- wards the point where the apparition had been seen, others turned away full of gloomy and foreboding thoughts. Hillebrant was the first who spoke : turning round to the eastern quarter, and observing a light on the horizon, he started, and seizing Philip by the arm, cried out, "What's that ? " "That is only the moon rising from the bank of clouds," replied Philip mournfully. " Well ! " observed Mynheer Kloots, wiping his forehead, which was damp with perspiration, " I have been told of this before, but I have mocked at the narration." Philip made no reply. Aware of the reality of the vision, and how deeply it interested him, he felt as if he were a guilty person. The moon had now risen above the clouds, and was pouring her mild pale light over the slumbering ocean. With a simultaneous impulse, every one directed his eyes to the spot where the strange vision had last been seen ; and all was a dead, dead calm. Since the apparition, the pilot Schriften had remained on the poop ; he now gradually approached Mynheer Kloots, and looking round, said " Mynheer Kloots, as pilot of this vessel, I tell you that you must prepare for very bad weather." " Bad weather ! " said Kloots, rousing himself from a deep reverie. " Yes, bad weather, Mynheer Kloots. There never was a vessel which fell in with what we have just seen, but met with disaster soon afterwards. The very name of Vanderdecken is unlucky He ! he ! " Philip would have replied to the sarcasm, but he could not ; his tongue was tied. 85 THE PHANTOM SHIP "What has the name of Vanderdecken to do with it?" observed K loots. " Have you not heard, then ? The captain of that vessel we have just seen is a Mynheer Vanderdecken he is the Flying Dutchman ! " " How know you that, pilot ? " inquired Hillebrant. " I know that, and much more, if I chose to tell," replied Schrifteii ; " but never mind, I have warned you of bad weather, as is my duty ; " and with these words Schriften went down the poop-ladder. " God in heaven ! I never was so puzzled and so frightened in my life," observed Kloots. " I don't know what to think or say. What think you, Philip ? was it not supernatural ? " " Yes," replied Philip mournfully. "I have no doubt of it." " I thought the days of miracles had passed," said the captain, " and that we were now left to our own exertions, and had no other warnings but those the appearance of the heavens gave us." " And they warn us now," observed Hillebrant. " See how that bank of clouds has risen within these five minutes the moon has escaped from it, but it will soon catch her again and see, there is a flash of lightning in the north-west." " Well, my sons, I can brave the elements as well as any man, and do my best. I have cared little for gales or stress of weather ; but I like not such a warning as we have had to-night. My heart's as heavy as lead, and that's the truth. Philip, send down for the bottle of schnapps, if it is only to clear my brain a little." Philip was glad of an opportunity to quit the poop ; he wished to have a few minutes to recover himself and collect his own thoughts. The appearance of the Phantom Ship had been to him a dreadful shock ; not that he had not fully believed in its existence ; but still, to have beheld, to have been so near that vessel that vessel in which his father was fulfilling his awful doom that vessel on board of which he felt sure that his own destiny was to be worked out had given a whirl to his brain. When he had heard the sound of the boatswain's whistle on board of her, eagerly had he stretched his hearing to catch the order given and given, he was convinced, in his father's voice. Nor had his eyes been less called to aid in his attempt to discover the features 86 THE PHANTOM SHIP and dress of those moving on her decks. As soon, then, as he had sent the boy up to Mynheer Kloots, Philip hastened to his cabin and buried his face in the coverlet of his bed, and then he prayed prayed until he had recovered his usual energy and courage, and had brought his mind to that state of composure which could enable him to look forward calmly to danger and difficulty, and feel prepared to meet it with the heroism of a martyr. Philip remained below not more than half-an-hour. On his return to the deck, what a change had taken place ! He had left the vessel floating motionless on the still waters, with her lofty sails hanging down listlessly from the yards. The moon then soared aloft in her beauty, reflecting the masts and sails of the ship in extended lines upon the smooth sea. Now all was dark : the water rippled short and broke in foam : the smaller and lofty sails had been taken in, and the vessel was cleaving through the water ; and the wind, in fitful gusts and angry meanings, proclaimed too surely that it had been awak- ened up to wrath, and was gathering its strength for destruc- tion. The men were still busy reducing the sails, but they worked gloomily and discontentedly. What Schriften, the pilot, had said to them, Philip knew not ; but that they avoided him and appeared to look upon him with feelings of ill-will, was evident. And each minute the gale increased. " The wind is not steady," observed Hillebrant ; " there is no saying from which quarter the storm may blow : it has already veered round five points. Philip, I don't much like the appearance of things, and I may say with the captain that my heart is heavy." " And, indeed, so is mine," replied Philip ; " but we are in the hands of a merciful Providence." " Hard a-port ! flatten in forward ! brail up the trysail, my men ! Be smart ! " cried Kloots, as from the wind's chopping round to the northward and westward, the ship was taken aback, and careened low before it. The rain now came down in torrents, and it was so dark that it was with difficulty they could perceive each other on the deck. " We must clew up the topsails while the men can get upon the yards. See to it forward, Mynheer Hillebrant." The lightning now darted athwart the firmament, and the thunder pealed. 87 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Quick ! quick, my men, let's furl all ! " The sailors shook the water from their streaming clothes, some worked, others took advantage of the night to hide themselves away and commune with their own fears. All canvas was now taken off the ship, except the forestay- sail, and she flew to the southward with the wind on her quarter. The sea had now risen, and roared as it curled in foam, the rain fell in torrents, the night was dark as Erebus, and the wet and frightened sailors sheltered themselves under the bulwarks. Although many had deserted from their duty, there was not one who ventured below that night. They did not collect together as usual every man preferred solitude and his own thoughts. The Phantom Ship dwelt on their imaginations and oppressed their brains. It was an interminably long and terrible night they thought the day would never come. At last the darkness gradually changed to a settled sullen grey gloom which was day. They looked at each other, but found no comfort in meeting each other's eyes. There was no one countenance in which a beam of hope could be found lurking. They were all doomed they remained crouched where they had sheltered themselves during the night, and said nothing. The sea had now risen mountains high, and more than once had struck the ship abaft. Kloots was at the binnacle, Hillebrant and Philip at the helm, when a wave curled high over the quarter, and poured itself in resistless force upon the deck. The captain and his two mates were swept away, and dashed almost senseless against the bulwarks the binnacle and compass were broken into fragments no one ran to the helm the vessel broached to the seas broke clear over her, and the mainmast went by the board. All was confusion. Captain Kloots was stunned, and it was with difficulty that Philip could persuade two of the men to assist him down below. Hillebrant had been more un- fortunate his right arm was broken, and he was otherwise severely bruised ; Philip assisted him to his berth, and then went on deck again to try and restore order. Philip Vanderdecken was not yet much of a seaman, but, at all events, he exercised that moral influence over the men which is ever possessed by resolution and courage. Obey willingly they did not, but they did obey, and in half-an-hour 88 THE PHANTOM SHIP the vessel was clear of the wreck. Eased by the loss of her heavy mast, and steered by two of her best seamen, she again flew before the gale. Where was Mynheer Von Stroom during all this work of destruction ? In his bed-place, covered up with the clothes, trembling in every limb, and vowing that if ever again he put his foot on shore, not all the companies in the world should induce him to trust to salt-water again. It certainly was the best plan for the poor man. But although for a time the men obeyed the orders of Philip, they were soon seen talking earnestly with the one- eyed pilot, and after a consultation of a quarter of an hour, they all left the deck, with the exception of the two at the helm. Their reasons for so doing were soon apparent several returned with cans full of liquor, which they had obtained by forcing the hatches of the spirit-room. For about an hour Philip remained on deck, persuading the men not to intoxicate themselves, but in vain ; the cans of grog offered to the men at the wheel were not refused, and in a short time the yawing of the vessel proved that the liquor had taken its effect. Philip then hastened down below to ascertain if Mynheer Kloots was sufficiently recovered to come on deck. He found him sunk into a deep sleep, and with difficulty it was that he roused him, and made him acquainted with the distressing intelligence. Mynheer Kloots followed Philip on deck ; but he still suffered from his fall : his head was con- fused, and he reeled as he walked, as if he also had been making free with the liquor. When he had been on deck a few minutes, he sank down on one of the guns in a state of perfect helplessness; he had, in fact, received a severe con- cussion of the brain. Hillebrant was too severely injured to be able to move from his bed, and Philip was now aware of the helplessness of their situation. Daylight gradually dis- appeared, and as darkness came upon them so did the scene become more appalling. The vessel still ran before the gale, but the men at the helm had evidently changed her course, as the wind that was on the starboard was now on the lar- board quarter. But compass there was none on deck, and even if there had been, the men in their drunken state would have refused to listen to Philip's orders or expostulations. ' He," they said, " was no sailor, and was not to teach 89 THE PHANTOM SHIP how to steer the ship." The gale was now at its height. The rain had ceased, but the wind had increased, and it roared as it urged on the vessel, which, steered so wide by the drunken sailors, shipped seas over each gunnel ; but the men laughed, and joined the chorus of their songs to the howling of the gale. Schriften, the pilot, appeared to be the leader of the ship's company. With the can of liquor in his hand, lie danced and sang, snapped his fingers, and, like a demon, peered with his one eye upon Philip ; and then would he fall and roll with screams of laughter in the scuppers. More liquor was handed up as fast as it was called for. Oaths, shrieks, laughter, were mingled together ; the men at the helm lashed it amidships, and hastened to join their companions, and the Tcr Schilling flew before the g;ile ; the fore-staysail, being the only sail set, checking her as she yawed to starboard or to port. Philip remained on deck by the poop-ladder. "Strange," thought he, " that I should stand here, the only one left now capable of acting, that I should be fated to look by myself upon this scene of horror and disgust should here wait the severing of this vessel's timbers, the loss of life which must accompany it the only one calm and collected, or aware of what must soon take place. God forgive me, but I appear, useless anil impotent as I am, to stand here like the master of the storm, separated, as it were, from my brother mortals by my own peculiar destiny. It must be so. This wreck then must not be for me, I feel that it is not, that I have a charmed life, or rather a protracted one, to fulfil the oath I registered in heaven. But the wind is not so loud, surely the water is not so rough : my forebodings may be wrong, and all may yet be saved. Heaven grant it ! For how melancholy, how lament- able is it, to behold men created in God's own image, leaving the world, disgraced below the brute creation ! " Philip was right in supposing that the wind was not so strong, nor the sea so high. The vessel, after running to the southward till past Table Bay, had, by the alteration made in her course, entered into False Bay, where, to a certain degree, she was sheltered from the violence of the winds and waves. But although the water was smoother, the waves were still more than sufficient to beat to pieces any vessel that might be driven on shore at the bottom of the bay, to which point the Ter Schilling was now running. The bay so far offered a fair 00 THE PHANTOM SHIP chance of escape, as, instead of the rocky coast outside (against which, had the vessel run, a few seconds would have insured her destruction), there was a shelving beach of loose sand. But of this Philip could, of course, have no knowledge, for the land at the entrance of the bay had been passed unperceived in the darkness of the night. About twenty minutes more had elapsed, when Philip observed that the whole sea around them was one continued foam. He had hardly time for conjecture before the ship struck heavily on the sands, and the remaining masts fell by the board. The crash of the falling masts, the heavy beating of the ship on the sands, which caused many of her timbers to part, with a whole sea which swept clean over the fated vessel, checked the songs and drunken revelry of the crew. Another minute, and the vessel was swung round on her broadside to the sea, and lay on her beam ends. Philip, who was to windward, clung to the bulwark, while the intoxicated seamen floundered in the water to leeward, and attempted to gain the other side of the ship. Much to Philip's horror, he perceived the body of Mynheer Kloots sink down in the water (which now was several feet deep on the lee side of the deck), without any apparent effort on the part of the captain to save himself. He was then gone, and there were no hopes for him. Philip thought of Hillebrant, and hastened down below ; he found him still in his bed-place, lying against the side. He lifted him out, and with difficulty climbed with him on deck, and laid him in the long-boat on the booms, as the best chance of saving his life. To this boat, the only one which could be made available, the crew had also repaired ; but they repulsed Philip, who would have got into her ; and as the sea made clean breakers over them, they cast loose the lashings which confined her. With the assistance of another heavy sea which lifted her from the chocks, she was borne clear of the booms and dashed over the gunnel into the water, to leeward, which was comparatively smooth not, however, without being filled nearly up to the thwarts. But this was little cared for by the intoxicated seamen, who, as soon as they were afloat, again raised their shouts and songs of revelry as they were borne away by the wind and sea towards the beach. Philip, who held on by the stump of the mainmast, watched them with an anxious eye, now perceiving them borne aloft on the foaming 91 THE PHANTOM SHIP surf, now disappearing in the trough. More and more distant were the sounds of their mad voices, till at last he could hear them no more, he beheld the boat balanced on an enormous rolling sea, and then he saw it not again. Philip knew that now his only chance was to remain with the vessel, and attempt to save himself upon some fragment of the wreck. That the ship would long hold together he felt was impossible ; already she had parted her upper decks, and each shock of the waves divided her more and more. At last, as he clung to the mast, he heard a noise abaft, and he then recollected that Mynheer Von Stroom was still in his cabin. Philip crawled aft, and found that the poop-ladder had been thrown against the cabin door, so as to prevent its being opened. He removed it and entered the cabin, where he found Mynheer Von Stroom clinging to windward with the grasp of death, but it was not death, but the paralysis of fear. He spoke to him, but could obtain no reply ; he attempted to move him, but it was impossible to make him let go the part of the bulk-head that he grasped. A loud noise and the rush of a mass of water told Philip that the vessel had parted amidships, and he unwillingly abandoned the poor supercargo to his fate, and went out of the cabin door. At the after-hatchway he observed something strug- gling, it was Johannes the bear, who was swimming, but still fastened by a cord which prevented his escape. Philip took out his knife, and released the poor animal, and hardlv had he done this act of kindness, when a heavy sea turned over the after part of the vessel, which separated in many pieces, and Philip found himself struggling in the waves. He seized upon a part of the deck which supported him, and was borne away by the surf towards the beach. In a few minutes he was near to the land, and shortly afterwards the piece of planking to which he was clinging struck on the sand, and then, being turned over by the force of the running wave, Philip lost his hold, and was left to his own exertions. He struggled long, but, although so near to the shore, could not gain a footing ; the returning wave dragged him back, and thus was he hurled to and fro until his strength was gone. He was sinking under the wave to rise no more, when he felt Something touch his hand. He seized it with the grasp of death. It was the shaggy hide of the bear Johannes, who 08 THE PHANTOM SHIP was making for the shore, and who soon dragged him deaf of the surf, so that he could gain a footing. Philip crawled up the beach above the reach of the waves, and, exhausted with fatigue, sank down in a swoon. When Philip was recalled from his state of lethargy, his first feeling was intense pain in his still closed eyes, arising from having been many hours exposed to the rays of an ardent sun. He opened them, but was obliged to close them immediately, for the light entered into them like the point of a knife. He turned over on his side, and covering them with his hand, remained some time in that position, until, by degrees, he found that his eyesight was restored. He then rose, and after a few seconds could distinguish the scene around him. The sea was still rough, and tossed about in the surf frag- ments of the vessel ; the whole sand was strewed with her cargo and contents. Near him was the body of Hillebrant, and the other bodies who were scattered on the beach told him that those who had taken to the boat had all perished. It was, by the height of the sun, about three o'clock in the afternoon, as near as he could estimate ; but Philip suffered such an oppression of mind, he felt so wearied, and in such pain, that he took but a slight survey. His brain was whirl- ing, and all he demanded was repose. He walked away from the scene of destruction, and having found a sandhill, behind which he was defended from the burjiing rays of the sun, he again lay down, and sank into a deep sleep, from which he did not wake until the ensuing morning. Philip was roused a second time by the sensation of some- thing pricking him on the chest. He started up, and beheld a figure standing over him. His eyes were still feeble, and his vision indistinct ; he rubbed them for a time, for he first thought it was the bear Johannes, and again, that it was the supercargo Von Stroom, who had appeared before him ; he looked again, and found that he was mistaken, although he had warrant for supposing it to be either, or both. A tall Hottentot, with an assegai in his hand, stood by his side ; over his shoulders he had thrown the fresh-severed skin of the poor bear, and on his head, with the curls descending to his waist, was one of the wigs of the supercargo Von Stroom. Such was the gravity of the black's appearance in this strange costume (for in every other respect he was naked), that at 93 THE PHANTOM SHIP any other time Philip would have been induced to laugh heartily ; but his feelings were now too acute. He rose upon his feet and stood by the side of the Hottentot, who still continued immovable, but certainly without the slightest appearance of hostile intentions. A sensation of overpowering thirst now seized upon Philip, and he made signs that he wished to drink. The Hottentot motioned to him to follow, and led over the sandhills to the beach, where Philip discovered upwards of fifty men, who were busy selecting various articles from the scattered stores of the vessel. It was evident by the respect paid to Philip's conductor, that he was the chief of the kraal. A few words, uttered with the greatest solemnity, were sufficient to pro- duce, though not exactly what Philip required, a small quantity of dirty water from a calabash, Avhich, however, was to him delicious. His conductor then waved to him to take a seat on the sand. It was a novel and appalling, and, nevertheless, a ludicrous scene : there was the white sand, rendered still more white by the strong glare of the sun, strewed with the fragments of the vessel, with casks, and bales of merchandise ; there was the running surge with its foam, throwing about particles of the wreck ; there were the bones of whales which had been driven on shore in some former gale, and which, now half-buried in the sand, showed portions of huge skeletons ; there were the mangled bodies of Philip's late companions, whose clothes, it appeared, had been untouched by the savages, with the ex- ception of the buttons, which had been eagerly sought after ; there were naked Hottentots (for it was summer time, and they wore not their sheepskin krosses) gravely stepping up and down the sand, picking up everything that was of no value, and leaving all that civilised people most coveted ; to crown all, there was the chief, sitting in the still bloody skin of Johannes, and the broad-bottomed wig of Mynheer Stroom, with all the gravity of a vice-chancellor in his coun- tenance, and without the slightest idea that he was in any way ridiculous. The whole presented, perhaps, one of the most strange and chaotic tableaux that ever was witnessed. Although, at that time, the Dutch had not very long formed their settlement at the Cape, a considerable traffic had been for many years carried on with the natives for skins and other THE PHANTOM SHIP African productions. The Hottentots were, therefore, no strangers to vessels, and as hitherto they had been treated with kindness, were well-disposed towards Europeans. After a time the Hottentots began to collect all the wood which appeared to have iron in it, made it up into several piles, and set them on fire. The chief then made a sign to Philip, to ask him if he was hungry ; Philip replied in the affirmative, when his new acquaintance put his hand into a bag made of goat-skin, and pulled out a handful of very large beetles, and presented them to him. Philip refused them with marks of disgust, upon which the chief very sedately cracked and ate them ; and having finished the whole handful, rose, and made a sign to Philip to follow him. As Philip rose, he perceived, floating on the surf, his own chest ; he hastened to it, and made signs that it was his, took the key out of his pocket and opened it, and then made up a bundle of articles most useful, not forgetting a bag of guilders. His conductor made no objection, but calling to one of the men near, pointed ut the lock and hinges to him, and then set off, followed by Philip, across the sandhills. In about an hour they arrived at the kraal, consisting of Jow huts covered with skins, and were met by the women and children, uho appeared to be in high admiration at their chief's new attire : they showed every kindness to Philip, bringing him milk, which he drank eagerly. Philip surveyed these daughters of 'Eve, and, as he turned from their offensive, greasy attire, their strange forms, and hideous features, he sighed, and thought of his charming Amine. The sun was now setting, and Philip still felt fatigued. He made signs that he wished to repose. They led him into a hut, and, though surrounded as he was with filth, and his nose assailed by every variety of bad smell, attacked, moreover, by insects, he laid his head on his bundle, and uttering a short prayer of thanksgiving, was soon in a sound sleep. The next morning he was awakened by the chief of the kraal, accompanied by another man who spoke a little Dutch. He stated his wish to be taken to the settlement where the ships came and anchored, and was fully understood ; but the man said that there were no ships in the bay at the time. Philip, nevertheless, requested he might be taken there, as he felt that his best chance of getting on board of any vessel 95 THE PHANTOM SHIP would be by remaining at the settlement, and, at all events, he would be in the company of Europeans, until a vessel arrived. The distance, he discovered, was but one day's march, or less. After some little conversation with the chief, the man who spoke Dutch desired Philip to follow him, and he would take him there. Philip drank plentifully from a bowl of milk, brought him by one of the M'omen, and again refusing a handful of beetles offered by the chief, he took up his bundle and followed his new acquaintance. Towards evening they arrived at the hills, from which Philip had a view of Table Bay, and the few houses erected by the Dutch. To his delight, he perceived that there was a vessel under sail in the offing. On his arrival at the beach, to which he hastened, he found that she had sent a boat on shore for fresh provisions. He accosted the people, told them who he was, told them also of the fatal wreck of the Ter Schilling, and of his wish to embark. The officer in charge of the boat willingly consented to take him on board, and informed Philip that they were homeward bound. Philip's heart leaped at the intelligence. Had she been outward bound, lje would have joined her; but now he had a prospect of again seeing his dear Amine before he re-embarked to follow out his peculiar destiny. He felt that there was still some happiness in store for him, that his life was to be chequered with alternate privation and repose, and that his future prospect was not to be one continued chain of suffering until death. He was kindly received by the captain of the vessel, who freely gave him a passage home ; and in three months, without any events worth narrating, Philip Vanderdecken focnd himself once more at anchor before the town of Amsterdam. CHAPTER XI IT need hardly be observed that Philip made all possible haste to his own little cottage, which contained all that he valued in this world. He promised to himself some months of happiness, for he had done his duty ; and he felt that, however desirous of fulfilling his vow, he could not 96 THE PHANTOM SHIP leave home till the autumn, when the next fleet sailed, and it was now but the commencement of April. Much, too, as he regretted the loss of Mynheer Kloots and Hillebrant, as well as the deaths of the unfortunate crew, still there was some solace in the remembrance that he was for ever rid of the wretch Schriften, who had shared their fate ; and besides, he almost blessed the wreck, so fatal to others, which enabled him so* soon to return to the arms of his Amine. It was late in the evening when Philip took a boat from Flushing, and went over to his cottage at Terneuse. It was a rough evening for the season of the year. The wind blew fresh, and the sky was covered with flaky clouds, fringed here and there with broad white edges, for the light of the moon was high in the heavens, and she was at her full. At times her light would be almost obscured by a dark cloud passing over her disc ; at others, she would burst out in ;ill her brightness. Philip landed, and, wrapping his cloak round him, hastened up to his cottage. As with a beating heart he approached, he perceived that the window of the parlour was open, and that there was a female figure leaning out. He knew that it could be no other than his Amine, and after he crossed the little bridge he proceeded to the window, instead of going to the door. Amine (for it was she who stood at the window) was so absorbed in contem- plation of the heavens above her, and so deep in communion with her own thoughts, that she neither saw nor heard the approach of her husband. Philip perceived her abstraction, and paused when within four or five yards of her. He wished to gain the door without being observed, as he was afraid of alarming her by his too sudden appearance, for he remembered his promise, " that if dead he would, if per- mitted, visit her as his father had visited his mother." But while he thus stood in suspense, Amine's eyes were turned upon him : she beheld him ; but a thick cloud now obscured the moon's disc, and the dim light gave to his form, indis- tinctly seen, an unearthly and shadowy appearance. She recognised her husband ; but having no reason to expect his return, she recognised him as an inhabitant of the world of spirits. She started, parted the hair away from her fore- head with both hands, and again earnestly gazed on him. THE PHANTOM SHIP It is I, Amine ; do not be afraid," cried Philip hastily. "I am not afraid," replied Amine, pressing her hand to her heart. " It is over now. Spirit of my dear husband for such I think thou art I thank thee ! Welcome, even in death, Philip welcome ! " and Amine waved her hand mournfully, inviting Philip to enter as she retired from the window. " My God ! she thinks me dead," thought Philip, and, hardly knowing how to act, he entered in at the window, and found her sitting on the sofa. Philip would have spoken, but Amine, whose eyes were fixed upon him as he entered, and who was fully convinced that he was but a supernatural appearance, exclaimed " So soon so soon ! O God ! Thy will be done : but it is hard to bear. Philip, beloved Philip, I feel that I soon shall follow you." Philip was now more alarmed; he was fearful of any sudden reaction when Amine should discover that he was still alive. " Amine, dear, hear me. I have appeared unexpectedly, and at an unusual hour ; but throw yourself into my arms, and you will find that your Philip is not dead." " Not dead ! " cried Amine, starting up. " No, no, still warm in flesh and blood, Amine still your fond and doting husband," replied Philip, catching her in his arms and pressing her to his heart. Amine sank from his embrace down upon the sofa, and fortunately was relieved by a burst of tears, while Philip, kneeling by her, supported her. " O God ! () God ! I thank Thee," replied Amine at last. " I thought it was your spirit, Philip. Oh ! I was glad to see even that," continued she, weeping on his shoulder. " Can you listen to me, dearest ? " said Philip, after a silence of a few moments. " Oh speak speak, love ; I can listen for ever." In a few words Philip then recounted what had taken place, and the occasion of his unexpected return, and felt himself more than repaid for all that he had suffered, by the fond endearments of his still agitated Amine. " And your father, Amine ? " " He is well ; we will talk of him to-morrow." "Yes," thought Philip, as he awoke next morning, and dwelt upon the lovely features of his still slumbering wife ; 98 THE PHANTOM SHIP **yes ; God is merciful. I feel that there is still happiness in store for me ; nay, more, that that happiness also depends upon my due performance of my task, and that I should be punished if I were to forget my solemn vow. Be it so through danger and to death will I perform my duty, trusting to His mercy for a reward both here below and in heaven above. Am I not repaid for all that I have suffered ? Oh yes, more than repaid," thought Philip, as with a kiss he disturbed the slumber of his wife, and met her full dark eyes fixed upon him, beaming with love and joy. Before Philip went downstairs, he inquired about Mynheer Poots. " My father has indeed troubled me much.," replied Amine. " I am obliged to lock the parlour when I leave it, for more than once I have found him attempting to force the locks of the buffets. His love of gold is insatiable : he dreams of nothing else. He has caused me much pain, insisting that I never should see you again, and that I should surrender to him all your wealth. But he fears me, and he fears your return much more." "Is he welt in health?" "Not ill, but still evidently wasting away like a candle burnt down to the socket, flitting and flaring alternately ; at one time almost imbecile, at others, talking and planning as if he were in the vigour of his youth. Oh, what a curse it must be that love of money! I believe I'm shocked to say so, Philip that that poor old man, now on the brink of a grave into which he can take nothing, would sacrifice your life and mine to have possession of those guilders, the whole of which I would barter for one kiss from thee." " Indeed, Amine, has he then attempted anything in my absence ? " " I dare not speak my thoughts, Philip, nor will I venture upon surmises, which it were difficult to prove. I watch him carefully ; but talk no more about him. You will see him soon, and do not expect a hearty welcome, or believe that, if given, it is sincere. I will not tell him of your return, as I wish to mark the effect." Amine then descended to prepare breakfast, and Philip walked out for a few minutes. On his return he found Mynheer Poots sitting at the table with his daughter. 99 THE PHANTOM SHIP "Merciful Allah! am I right?" cried the old man; "is it you, Mynheer Vanderdecken ? " "Even so/' replied Philip; "I returned last night" "And you did not tell me, Amine." " I wished that you should be surprised," replied Amine. " I am surprised ! When do you sail again, Mynheer Philip ? very soon, I suppose ? perhaps to-morrow ? " said Myn- heer Pools. "Not for many months, I trust," replied Philip. " Not for many months ? that is a long while to be idle. You must make money. Tell me, have you brought back plenty this time ? " " No," replied Philip ; " I have been wrecked, and very nearly lost my life." " But you will go again ? " " Yes, in good time I shall go again." "Very well, we will take care of your house and your guilders." " I shall perhaps save you the trouble of taking care of my guilders," replied Philip, to annoy the old man, "for I mean to take them with me." " To take them with you ! for what, pray ? " replied Pools, in alarm. " To purchase goods where I go, and make more money." " But you may be wrecked again, and then the money will be all lost. No, no; go yourself, Mynheer Philip; but you must not take your guilders." " Indeed I will," replied Philip ; " when I leave this I shall take all my money with me." During this conversation it occurred to Philip that, if Mynheer Pools could only be led lo suppose that he look away his money with him, there would be more quiet for Amine, who was now obliged, as she had informed him, to be constantly on the watch. He determined, therefore, when he next departed, to make the doclor believe that he had taken his wealth with him. Mynheer Pools did nol renew Ihe conversalion, but sank into gloomy thought. In a few minutes he left the parlour, and went up to his own room, when Philip stated to his wife what had induced him to make the old man believe that he should embark his property. 100 THE. PHANTOM SHIP " It was thoughtful of you, Philip, and I thank you for your kind feeling towards me; but I wish you had said nothing on the subject. You do not know my father; I must now watch him as an enemy." "We have little to fear from an infirm old man," replied Philip, laughing. But Amine thought otherwise, and was ever on her guard. The spring and summer passed rapidly away, for they were happy. Many were the conversations between Philip and Amine relative to what had passed the supernatural appear- ance of his father's ship, and the fatal wreck. Amine felt that more dangers and difficulties were pre- paring for her husband, but she never once attempted to dissuade him from renewing his attempts in fulfilment of his vow. Like him, she looked forward with hope and confidence, aware that, at some time, his fate must be accomplished, and trusting only that that hour would be long delayed. At the close of the summer, Philip again went to Amsterdam,, to procure for himself a berth in one of the vessels which were to sail at the approach of winter. The wreck of the Ter Schilling was well known ; and the circumstances attending it, with the exception of the ap- pearance of the Phantom Ship, had been drawn up by Philip on his passage home, and communicated to the Court of Directors. Not only on account of the very creditable manner in which that report had been prepared, but in consideration of his peculiar sufferings and escape, he had been promised by the Company a berth, as second mate, on board of one of their vessels, should he be again inclined to sail to the East Indies. Having called upon the directors, he received his appoint- ment to the Batavia, a fine vessel of about 400 tons burden. Having effected his purpose, Philip hastened back to Terneuse, and in the presence of Mynheer Poots, informed Amine of what he had done. "So you go to sea again ? " observed Mynheer Poots. " Yes, but not for two months, I expect," replied Philip. " Ah ! " replied Poots, " in two months ! " and the old man muttered to himself. How true it is that we can more easily bear up against a real evil than against suspense ! Let it not be supposed that 101 THE PHANTOM -SHIP Amine fretted at the thought of her approaching separation from her husband ; she lamented it, but feeling his departure to be an imperious duty, and having it ever in her mind, she bore up against her feelings, and submitted without repining to what could not be averted. There was, however, one cir- cumstance which caused her much uneasiness that was the temper and conduct of her father. Amine, who knew his character well, perceived that he already secretly hated Philip, whom he regarded as an obstacle to his obtaining possession of the money in the house; for the old man was well aware that, if Philip were dead, his daughter would care little who had possession of, or what became of it. The thought that Philip was about to take that money with him had almost turned the brain of the avaricious old man. He had been watched by Amine, and she had seen him walk for hours muttering to himself, and not, as usual, attending to his profession. A few evenings after his return from Amsterdam, Philip, who had taken cold, complained of not being well. " Not well ! " cried the old man, starting up ; " let me see yes, your pulse is very quick. Amine, your poor husband is very ill. He must go to bed, and I will give him some- thing which will do him good. I shall charge you nothing, Philip nothing at all." " 1 do not feel so very unwell, Mynheer Foots," replied Philip ; " I have had a bad headache certainly." " Yes, and you have fever also, Philip, and prevention is better than cure ; so go to bed, and take what I send you, and you will be well to-morrow." Philip went upstairs accompanied by Amine ; and Mynheer Poots went into his own room to prepare the medicine. So soon as Philip was in bed Amine went downstairs, and was met by her father, who put a powder into her hands to give to her husband, and then left the parlour. "God forgive me if I wrong my father," thought Amine; "but I have my doubts. Philip is ill, more so than he will acknowledge ; and if he does not take some remedies he may be worse but my heart misgives me I have .a fore- boding. Yet surely he cannot be so diabolically wicked." Amine examined the contents of the paper : it was a very small quantity of dark brown powder, and by the directions 102 THE PHANTOM SHIP of Mynheer Foots, to be given in a tumbler of warm wine. Mynheer Foots had offered to heat the wine. His return from the kitchen broke Amine's meditations. " Here is the wine, my child ; now give him a whole tumbler of wine, and the powder, and let him be covered up warm, for the perspiration will soon burst out, and it must not be checked. Watch him, Amine, and keep the clothes on, and he will be well to-morrow morning." And Mynheer Foots quitted the room, saying, "Good night, my child." Amine poured out the powder into one of the silver mugs upon the table, and then proceeded to mix it up with the wine. Her suspicions had, for the time, been removed by the kind tone of her father's voice. To do him justice as a medical practitioner, he appeared always to be most careful of his patients. When Amine mixed the powder, she examined and perceived that there was no sediment, and the wine was as clear as before. This was unusual, and her suspicions revived. *'I like it not," said she; "I fear my father God help me ! I hardly know what to do I will not give it to Philip. The warm wine may produce perspiration sufficient." Amine paused, and again reflected. She had mixed the powder with so small a portion of wine that it did not fill a quarter of the cup ; she put it on one side, filled another up to the brim with the warm wine, and then went up to the bedroom. On the landing-place she was met by her father, whom she supposed to have retired to rest. "Take care you do not spill it, Amine. That is right, let him have a whole cupful. Stop, give it to me ; I will take it to him myself." Mynheer Foots took the cup from Amine's hands, and went into Philip's room. " Here, my son, drink this off, and you will be well," said Mynheer Foots, whose hand trembled so that he spilt the wine on the coverlet. Amine, who watched her father, was more than ever pleased that she had not put the powder into the cup. Philip rose on his elbow, drank off the wine, and Mynheer Foots then wished him good night. " Do not leave him, Amine ; I will see all right," said Mynheer Foots, as he left the room. And Amine, who had 103 THE PHANTOM SHIP intended to go down for the candle left in the parlour, re mained with her husband, to whom she confided her feelings, and also the fact that she had not given him the powder. " I trust that you are mistaken, Amine," replied Philip ; " indeed, I feel sure that you must be. No man can be so bad as you suppose your father." "You have not lived with him as I have; you have not seen what I have seen," replied Amine. "You know not what gold will tempt people to do in this world but, however, I may be wrong. At all events, you must go to sleep, and I shall watch you, dearest. Pray, do not speak I feel I cannot sleep just now I wish to read a little I will lie down by-and-by." Philip made no further objections, and was soon in a sound sleep, and Amine watched him in silence till midnight long had passed. " He breathes heavily," thought Amine ; "but had I given him that powder, who knows if he had ever awoke again ? My father is so deeply skilled in the Eastern knowledge, ^iat 1 fear him. Too often has he, I well know, for a purse well filled with gold, prepared the sleep of death. Another would shudder at the thought ; but he, who has dealt out death at the will of his employers, would scruple little to do so even to the husband of his own daughter ; and I have watched him in his moods, and know his thoughts and wishes. What a foreboding of mishap has come over me this evening ! what a fear of evil ! Philip is ill, 'tis true, but not so very ill. No ! no ! besides, his time is not yet come ; he has his dreadful task to finish. I would it were morning. How soundly he sleeps ! and the dew is on his brow. I must cover him up warm, and watch that he remains so. Some one knocks at the entrance-door. Now will they wake him. 'Tis a summons for my father." Amine left the room, and hastened downstairs. It was, as she supposed, a summons for Mynheer Poots to a woman taken in labour. " He shall follow you directly," said Amine ; " I will now call him up." Amine went upstairs to the room where her father slept, and knocked ; hearing no answer as usual, she knocked again. " My father is not used to sleep in this way," thought Amine, when she found no answer to her second call. She 104 THE PHANTOM SHIP opened the door and went in. To her surprise, her father was not in bed. " Strange," thought she ; " but I do not recollect having heard his footsteps coming up after he went down to take away the lights." And Amine hastened to the parlour, where, stretched on the sofa, she discovered her father ap- parently fast asleep; but to her call he gave no answer. " Merciful Heaven ! is he dead ? " thought she, approaching the light to her father's face. Yes, it was so ; his eyes were fixed and glazed his lower jaw had fallen. For some minutes Amine leant against the wall in a state of bewilderment; her brain whirled; at last she recovered herself. " 'Tis to be proved at once," thought she, as she went up to the table, and looked into the silver cup in which she had mixed the powder it was empty ! " The God of Righteous- ness hath punished him ! " exclaimed Amine ; " but, oh ! that this man should have been my father ! Yes ; it is plain. Frightened at his own wicked, damned intentions, he poured out more wine from the flagon, to blunt his feelings of remorse; and not knowing that the powder was still in the cup, he filled it up and drank himself the death he meant for another ! For another ! and for whom ? one wedded to his own daughter Philip! my husband! Wert thou not my father," continued Amine, looking at the dead body, " I would spit upon thee, and curse thee ! but thou art punished, and may God forgive thee ! thou poor, weak, wicked creature ! " Amine then left the room and went upstairs, when she found Philip still fast asleep, and in a profuse perspiration. Most women would have awakened their husbands, but Amine thought not of herself ; Philip was ill, and Amine would not arouse him to agitate him. She sat down by the side of the bed, and with her hands pressed upon her forehead, and her elbows resting on her knees, she remained in deep thought until the sun had risen and poured his bright beams through the casement. She was roused from her reflections by another summons at the door of the cottage. She hastened down to the entrance, but did not open the door. "Mynheer Poots is required immediately," said the girl, who was the messenger. "My good Therese," replied Amine, "my father has more need of assistance than the poor woman ; for his travail in this 105 THE PHANTOM SHIP world, I fear, is well over. I found him very ill when I went to call him, and he has not been able to quit his bed. I must now entreat you to do my message, and desire Father Seysen to come hither ; for my poor father is, I fear, in extremity." " Mercy on me ! " replied Therese. " Is it so ? Fear not but I will do your bidding, Mistress Amine." The second knocking had awakened Philip, who felt that he was much better, and his headache had left him. He perceived that Amine had not taken any rest that night, and he was about to expostulate with her, when she at once told him what had occurred. " You must dress yourself, Philip," continued she, " and must assist me to carry up his body, and place it in his bed, before the arrival of the priest. God of mercy ! had I given you that powder, my dearest Philip but let us not talk about it. Be quick, for Father Seysen will be here soon." Philip was soon dressed, and followed Amine down into the parlour. The sun shone bright, and his rays were darted upon the haggard face of the old man, whose fists were clenched, and his tongue fixed between the teeth on one side of his mouth. " Alas ! this room appears to be fatal. How many more scenes of horror are to pass within it ? " " None, I trust," replied Amine ; " this is not, to my mind, the scene of horror. It was when that old man (now called away and a victim of his own treachery) stood by your bed- side, and with every mark of interest and kindness offered you the cup that was the scene of horror," said Amine, shuddering "one which long will haunt me." "God forgive him ! as I do," replied Philip, lifting up the body, and carrying it up the stairs to the room which had been occupied by Mynheer Poots. " Let it at least be supposed that he died in his bed, and that his death was natural," said Amine. " My pride cannot bear that this should be known, or that I should be pointed at AS the daughter of a murderer ! O Philip i" Amine sat down and burst into tears. Her husband was attempting to console her, when Father Seysen knocked at the door. Philip hastened down to open it. " Good morning, my son. How is the sufferer ? " 106 THE PHANTOM SHIP " He has ceased to suffer, father." " Indeed ! " replied the good priest, with sorrow in his countenance ; " am I then too late ? yet have I not tarried." " He went off suddenly, father, in a convulsion," replied Philip, leading the way upstairs. Father Seysen looked at the body and perceived that his offices were needless, and then turned to Amine, who had not yet checked her tears. " Weep, my child, weep ! for you have cause," said the priest. " The loss of a father's love must be a severe trial to a dutiful and affectionate child. But yield not too much to your grief, Amine ; you have other duties, other ties, my child you have your husband." " I know it, father," replied Amine ; " still must I weep, for I was his daughter." " Did he not go to bed last night, then, that his clothes are still upon him ? When did he first complain ? " " The last time that I saw him, father," replied Philip, " he came into my room, and gave me some medicine, and then he wished me good night. Upon a summons to attend a sick- bed, my wife went to call him, and found him speechless." " It has been sudden," replied the priest ; " but he was an old man, and old men sink at once. Were you with him when he died ? " " I was not, sir," replied Philip ; " before my -wife had sum- moned me and I had dressed myself, he had left this world." " I trust, my children, for a better." Amine shuddered. "Tell me, Amine," continued the priest, "did he show signs of grace before he died ? for you know full well that he has long been looked on as doubtful in his creed, and little attentive to the rites of our holy Church." " There are times, holy father," replied Amine, " when even a sincere Christian can be excused, even if he give no sign. Look at his clenched hands, witness the agony of death on his face, and could you, in that state, expect a sign ? " " Alas ! 'tis but too true, my child ; we must then hope for the best. Kneel with me, my children, and let us offer up a prayer for the soul of the departed." Philip and Amine knelt with the priest, who prayed fervently ; and as they rose they exchanged a glance which fully revealed what was passing in the mind of each. 107 THE PHANTOM SHIP " I will send the people to do their offices for the dead, and prepare the body for interment," said Father Seysen ; " but it were as well not to say that he was dead before I arrived, or to let it be supposed that he was called away without receiving the consolations of our holy creed." Philip motioned his head in assent as he stood at the foot of the bed, and the priest departed. There had always been a strong feeling against Mynheer Poots in the village ; his neglect of all religious duties ; the doubt whether he was even a member of the Church ; his avarice and extortion had created for him a host of enemies ; but at the same time his great medical skill, which was fully acknowledged, ren- dered him of importance. Mad it been known that his creed (if he had any) was Mahometan, and that he had died in attempting to poison his son-in-law, it is certain that Christian burial would have been refused him, and the finger of scorn would have been pointed at his daughter. But as Father Seysen, when questioned, said, in a mild voice, that " he had departed in peace," it was presumed that Mynheer Poots had died a good Christian, although he had acted little up to the tenets of Christianity during his life. The next day the remains of the old man were consigned to the earth with the usual rites; and Philip and Amine were not a little relieved in their minds at everything having passed off so quietly. It was not until after the funeral had taken place that Philip, in company with Amine, examined the chamber of his father- in-law. The key of the iron chest was found in his pocket; but Philip had not yet looked into this darling repository of the old man. The room was full of bottles and boxes of drugs, all of which were either thrown away, or, if the utility of them was known to Amine. removed to a spare room. His table contained many drawers, which were now examined, and among the heterogeneous contents were many writings in Arabic probably prescriptions. Boxes and papers were also found, with Arabic characters written upon them ; and in the box which they first took up was a powder similar to that which Mynheer Poots had given to Amine. There were many articles and waitings which made it appear that the old man had dabbled in the occult sciences, as they were practised at that period, and those they hastened to commit to the flames. "Had all these been seen by Father Seysen!" observed 108 THE PHANTOM SHIP Amine mournfully. " But here are some printed papers, Philip!" Philip examined them, and found that they were acknow- ledgments of shares in the Dutch East-India Company. " No, Amine, these are money, or what is as good these are eight shares in the Company's capital, which will yield us a handsome income every year. I had no idea that the old man made such use of his money. I had some intention of doing the same with a part of mine before I went away, instead of allowing it to remain idle." The iron chest was now to be examined. When Philip first opened it, he imagined that it contained but little ; for it was large and deep, and appeared to be almost empty ; but when he put his hands down to the bottom, he pulled out thirty or forty small bags, the contents of which, instead of being silver guilders, were all coins of gold ; there was only one large bag of silver money. But this was not all : several small boxes and packets were also discovered, which, when opened, were found to contain diamonds and other precious stones. When every- thing was collected, the treasure appeared to be of great value. " Amine, my love, you have indeed brought me an unex- pected dower," said Philip. " You may well say unexpected," replied Amine. " These diamonds and jewels my father must have brought with him from Egypt. And yet how penuriouslv we were living until we came to this cottage ! And with all this treasure he would have poisoned my Philip for more ! God forgive him ! " Having counted the gold, which amounted to nearly fifty thousand guilders, the whole was replaced, and they left the room. " I am a rich man," thought Philip, after Amine had left him ; " but of what use are riches to me ? I might purchase a ship and be my own captain, but would not the ship be lost ? That certainly does not follow ; but the chances are against the vessel ; therefore I will have no ship. But is it right to sail in the vessels of others with this feeling ? I know not ; this, however, I know, that I have a duty to perform, and that all our lives are in the hands of a kind Providence, which calls us away when He thinks fit. I will place most of my money in the shares of the Company, and if I sail in their vessels, and they come to misfortune by meeting with my poor father, 109 THE PHANTOM SHIP at least I shall be a common sufferer with the rest. And now to make my Amine more comfortable." Philip immediately made a great alteration in their style of living. Two female servants were hired ; the rooms were more comfortably furnished ; and in everything in which his wife's comfort and convenience were concerned, he spared no expense. He wrote to Amsterdam, and purchased several shares in the Company's stock. The diamonds and his own money he still left in the hands of Amine v In making these arrangements the two months passed rapidly away ; and everything was complete when Philip again received his summons, by letter, to desire that he would join his vessel. Amine would have wished Philip to go out as a passenger instead of going as an officer, but Philip preferred the latter, as otherwise he could give no reason for his voyage to India. " I know not why," observed Philip, the evening before his departure, " but I do not feel as I did when I last went away ; I have no foreboding of evil this time." " Nor have I," replied Amine ; " but I feel as if you would be long away from me, Philip ; and is not that an evil to a fond and anxious wife?" "Yes, love, it is; but " Oh yes, I know it is your duty, and you must go," replied Amine, burying her face in his bosom. The next day Philip parted from his wife, who behaved with more fortitude than on her first separation. " All were lost, but he was saved," thought Amine. " I feel that he will return to me. God of heaven, Thy will be done ! " Philip soon arrived at Amsterdam ; and having purchased many things which he thought might be advantageous to him in case of accident, to which he now looked forward as almost certain, he embarked on board the Batavia, which was lying at single anchor, and ready for sea. CHAPTER XII X HILIP had not been long on board ere he found that they were not likely to have a very comfortable passage ; for the Bat aria was chartered to convey a large detachment of troops to Ceylon and Java, for the purpose of recruiting and strength- 110 THE PHANTOM SHIP ening the Company's forces at those places. She was to quit the fleet of Madagascar, and run direct for the island of Java ; the number of soldiers on board being presumed sufficient to insure the ship against any attack or accidents from pirates or enemies' cruisers. The Batavia, moreover, mounted thirty guns, and had a crew of seventy-five men. Besides military stores, which formed the principal part of her cargo, she had on board a large quantity of specie for the Indian market. The detachment of soldiers was embarking when Philip went on board, and in a few minutes the decks were so crowded that it was hardly possible to move. Philip, who had not yet spoken to the captain, found out the first mate, and immediately entered upon his duty, with which, from his close application to it during his former voyage and passage home, he was much better acquainted than might have been imagined. In a short lime all traces of hurry and confusion began to disappear, the baggage of the troops was stowed away, and the soldiers having been told off in parties, and stationed with their messing utensils between the guns of the main deck, room was thus afforded for working the ship. Philip showed great activity as well as method in the arrangements proposed, and the captain, during a pause in his own arduous duties, said to him " I thought you were taking it very easy, Mr. Vanderdecken, in not joining the ship before, but now you are on board, you are making up for lost time. You have done more during the forenoon than I could have expected. I am glad that you are come, though very sorry you were not here when we were stowing the hold, which, I am afraid, is not arranged quite so well as it might be. Mynheer Struys, the first mate, has had more to do than he could well give attention to." " I am sorry that I should not have been here, sir," replied Philip; "but I came as soon as the Company sent me word." " Yes, and as they know that you are a married man, and do not forget that you are a great shareholder, they would not trouble you too soon. I presume you will have the command of a vessel next voyage. In fact, you are certain of it, with the capital you have invested in their funds. I had a conversation with one of the senior accountants on the subject this very morning." Philip was not very sorry that his money had been put out io 11 1 THE PHANTOM SHIP such good interest, as to be the captain of a ship was what he earnestly desired. He replied, that he certainly did hope to command a ship .after the next voyage, when he trusted that he should feel himself quite competent to the charge. " No doubt, no doubt, Mr. Vanderdecken. I can see that clearly. You must be very fond of the sea." " I am," replied Philip ; " I doubt whether I shall ever give it up." " Never give it up ! You think so now. You are young, active, and full of hope ; but you will tire of it by-and-by, and be glad to lay by for the rest of your days." "How many troops do we embark?" inquired Philip. "Two hundred and forty-five rank and file, and six officers. Poor fellows ! there are but few of them will ever return : nay, more than one-half will not see another birthday. It is a dreadful climate. I have landed three hundred men at that horrid hole, and in six months, even before I had sailed, there were not one hundred left alive." " It is almost murder to send them there," observed Philip. " Pshaw ! they must die somewhere, and if thev die a little sooner, what matters? Life is a commodity to be bought and sold like any other. We send out so much manufactured goods and so much money to barter for Indian commodities. We also send out so much life, and it gives a good return to the Company." " But not to the poor soldiers, I am afraid." " No ; the Company buy it cheap and sell it dear," replied the captain, who walked forward. "True," thought Philip, "they do purchase human life cheap, and make a rare profit of it, for without these poor fellows how could they hold their possessions in spite of native and foreign enemies ? For what a paltry and cheap annuity do these men sell their lives ? For what a miserable pittance do they dare all the horrors of a most deadly climate, without a chance, a hope of return to their native land, where they might haply repair their exhausted energies, and take a new lease of life ! Good God ! if these men may be thus heartlessly sacrificed to Mammon, why should I feel remorse if, in the fulfilment of a sacred duty imposed on me by Him who deals with us as He thinks meet, a few mortals perish ? Not a sparrow falls to the ground without His knowledge, 112 THE PHANTOM SHIP and it is for Him to sacrifice or save. I am but the creature of His will, and I but follow my duty, but obey the com- mands of One whose ways are inscrutable. Still, if for my sake this ship be also doomed, I cannot but wish that I had been appointed to some other, in which the waste of human life might have been less." It was not until a week after Philip arrived on board that Vhe Batavia and the remainder of the fleet were ready for sea. It would be difficult to analyse the feelings of Philip Vander- decken on this his second embarkation. His mind was so con- tinually directed to the object of his voyage, that although he attended to his religious duty, yet the business of life passed before him as a dream. 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 the 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 embarkedi 113 H THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 j>erceptible. 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 Ealavia 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 liataria 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 lx>ard 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 meeU may be true, but not that I bring with me the disaster of meeting her. Heaven, I thank thee ! Now I can prosecute my scui'fh wilhout remorse." in THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 dis- charged." 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 situa- tion. 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 115 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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. They stated themselves to be the crew of a small Dutch Indiaman, which had foundered at sea two days before ; she had started one of her planks, and filled so rapidly that the men had hardly time to save themselves. They consisted of the captain, mates, and twenty men belonging to the ship, and an old Portuguese Catholic priest, who had been sent home by the Dutch governor, for having opposed the Dutch interests in the island of Japan. He had lived with the natives, and been secreted by them for some tims, as the Japanese government was equally desirous of capturing him, with the intention of taking away his life. Eventually he found himself obliged to throw himself into the arm > of the Dutch, as being the less cruel of his enemies. The Dutch government decided that he should be sent away from the country ; and he had, in consequence, been put on board of the Indiaman for a passage home. By the report of the captain and crew, one person only had been lost ; but he was a person of consequence, having for many years held the situation of president in the Dutch factory at Japan. He was returning to Holland with the riches which he hail amassed. By the evidence of the captain and crew, he had insisted, after he was put into the boat, upon going back to the ship to secure a casket of immense value, containing diamonds and other precious stones, which he had forgotten ; they added, that while they were waiting for him the ship suddenly plunged her bowsprit under, and went down head foremost, and that it was with difficulty they had themselves escaped. They had waited for some time to ascertain if he would rise again to the surface, but he appeared no more. " I knew that something would happen," observed the cap- tain of the sunken vessel, after he had been sitting a short 116 THE PHANTOM SHIP time in the cabin with Philip and the captain of the Batavia j " we saw the Fiend or Devil's Ship, as they call her, but three days before." " What ! the Flying Dutchman, as they name her ? " ashed Philip. " Yes ; that, I believe, is the name they give her," replied the captain. " I have often heard of her ; but it never was my fate to fall in with her before, and I hope it never will be again ; for I am a ruined man, and must begin the world afresh." " I have heard of that vessel," observed the captain of the Batavia. " Pray, how did she appear to you ? " "Why, the fact is, I did not see anything but the loom of her hull," replied the other. " It was very strange ; the night was fine, and the heavens clear ; we were under the top-gallant sails, for I do not carry on during the night, or else we might have put the royals on her ; she would have carried them with the breeze. I had turned in, when about two o'clock in the morning the mate called me to come on deck. I demanded what was the matter, and he replied he could hardly tell, but that the men were much frightened, and that there was a Ghost Ship, as the sailors termed it, in fight. I went on deck ; all the horizon was clear, but on our quarter was a sort of fog, round as a ball, and not more than two cables' length from us. We were going about four knots and a half free, and yet we could not escape from this mist. ' Look there,' said the mate. ' Why, what the devil can it be ? ' said I, rub- bing my eyes. ' No banks up to windward, and yet a fog in the middle of a clear sky, with a fresh breeze, and with water all around it ; ' for you see the fog did not cover more than half- a-dozen cables' length, as we could perceive by the horizon on each side of it. ' Hark, sir ! ' said the mate ' they are speak- ing again.' ' Speaking ! ' said I, and I listened ; and from out this ball of fog I heard voices. At last, one cried out, ' Keep a sharp look-out forward, d'ye hear ? ' ' Ay, ay, sir ! ' replied another voice. ' Ship on the starboard bow, sir.' ' Very well ; strike the bell there forward.' And then we heard the bell toll. ' It must be a vessel,' said I to the mate. ' Not of this world, sir,' replied he. ' Hark ! ' ' A gun ready forward.' ' Ay, ay, sir ! ' was now heard out of the fog, which appeared to near us ; ' all ready, sir.' ' Fire ! ' The report of the gun sounded on our ears like thunder, and then 117 THE PHANTOM SHIP "Well, and then?" said the captain of the Batavia, breathless, "And then/' replied the other captain solemnly, "the fog and all disappeared as if by magic, the whole horizon was clear, and there was nothing to be seen." " Is it possible ?" "There are twenty men on deck to tell the story," replied the captain. " And the old Catholic priest to boot, for he stood by me the whole time I was on deck. The men said that some accident would happen ; and in the morning watch, on sounding the well, we found four feet water. We took to the pumps, but it gained upon us, and we went down, as I have told you. The mate says that the vessel is well known it is called the Flying Dutchman." Philip made no remarks at the time, but he was much pleased at what he had heard. " If," thought he, " the Phantom Ship of my poor father appears to others as well as to me, and they are sufferers, my being on board can make no difference. I do but take my chance of falling in with her, and do not risk the lives of those who sail in the same vessel with me. Now my mind is relieved, and I can prose- cute my search with a quiet conscience." The next day Philip took an opportunity of making the acquaintance of the Catholic priest, who spoke Dutch and other languages as well as he did Portuguese. He was a venerable old man, apparently about sixty years of age, with a white flowing beard, mild in his demeanour, and very pleas- ing in his conversation. When Philip kept his watch that night, the old man walked with him, and it was then, after a long conversation, that Philip confided to him that he was of the Catholic persuasion. "Indeed, my son ! that is unusual in a Hollander." " It is so," replied Philip ; "nor is it known on board not that I am ashamed of my religion, but I wish to avoid dis- cussion." " You are prudent, my son. Alas ! if the reformed religion produces no better fruit than what I have witnessed in the East, it is little better than idolatry." " Tell me, father," said Philip " they talk of a miraculous vision of a ship not manned by mortal men. Did you see it?" 118 THE PHANTOM SHIP " I saw what others saw/' replied the priest ; " and certainly, as far as my senses would enable me to judge, the appearance was most unusual I may say supernatural ; but I had heard of this Phantom Ship before, and moreover that its appear- ance was the precursor of disaster. So did it prove in our case, although, indeed, we had one on board, now no more, whose weight of guilt was more than sufficient to sink any vessel ; one, the swallowing up of whom, with all that wealth from which he anticipated such enjoyment in his own country, has manifested that the Almighty will, even in this world, sometimes wreak just and awful retribution on those who have merited His vengeance." " You refer to the Dutch President who went down with the ship when it sank." " I do ; but the tale of that man's crime is long ; to-morrow night, I will walk with you, and narrate the whole. Peace be with you, my son, and good night." The weather continued fine, and the Bataria hove-to in the evening with the intention of anchoring the next morning in the roadstead of St. Helena. Philip, when he went on deck to keep the middle watch, found the old priest at the gang- way waiting for him. In the ship all was quiet ; the men slumbered between the guns, and Philip, with his new acquaintance, went aft, and seating themselves on a hencoop, the priest commenced as follows : " You are not, perhaps, aware that the Portuguese, although anxious to secure for themselves a country discovered by their enterprise and courage, and the possession of which, I fear, has cost them many crimes, have still never lost sight of one point dear to all good Catholics that of spreading wide the true faith, and planting the banner of Christ in the regions of idolatry. Some of our countrymen having been wrecked on the coast, we were made acquainted with the islands of Japan, and seven years afterwards, our holy and blessed St. Francis, now with God, landed on the island of Ximo, where he remained for two years and five months, during which he preached our religion and made many converts. He after- wards embarked for China, his original destination, but was not permitted to arrive there ; he died 011 his passage, and thus closed his pure and holy life. After his death, notwithstand- ing the many obstacles thrown in our way by the priests of 119 THE PHANTOM SHIP idolatry, and the persecutions with which they occasionally visited the members of our faith, the converts to our holy religion increased greatly in the Japanese islands. The religion spread fast, and many thousands worshipped the true God. "After a time, thd Dutch formed a settlement at Japan, and when they found that the Japanese Christians around the factories would deal only with the Portuguese, in whom they had confidence, they became our enemies ; and the man of whom we have spoken, and who at that period was the head of the Dutch factory, determined, in his lust for gold, to make the Christian religion a source of suspicion to the emperor of the country, and thus to ruin the Portuguese and their adherents. Such, my son, was the conduct of one who professed to have embraced the reformed religion as being of greater purity than our own. " There was a Japanese lord of great wealth and influence who lived near us, and who, with two of his sons, had embraced Christianity, and had been baptized. He had two other sons, who lived at the emperor's court. This lord had made us a present of a house for a college and school of instruction ; on his death, however, his two sons at court, who were idolaters, insisted upon our quitting this property. We refused, and thus afforded the Dutch principal an opportunity of inflaming these young noblemen against us : by this means he persuaded the Japanese emperor that the Portuguese and Christians had formed a conspiracy against his life and throne ; for, be it observed, that when a Dutchman was asked if he was a Christian, he would reply, ' No ; I am a Hollander.' "The emperor, believing in this conspiracy, gave an imme- diate order for the extirpation of the Portuguese, and then of all the Japanese who had embraced the Christian faith ; he raised an army for this purpose and gave the command of it to the young noblemen I have mentioned, the sons of the lord who had given us the college. The Christians, aware that resistance was their only chance, flew to arms, and chose as their generals the other two sons of the Japanese lord, who, with their father, had embraced Christianity. Thus were the two armies commanded by four brothers, two on the one side and two on the other. " The Christian army amounted to more than 40,000 men, but of this the emperor was not aware, and he sent a force of 120 THE PHANTOM SHIP about 25,000 to conquer and exterminate them. The armies met, and after an obstinate combat (for the Japanese are very brave) the victory was on the part of the Christians, and with the exception of a few who saved themselves in the boats,, the army of the emperor was cut to pieces. " This victory was the occasion of making more converts, and our army was soon increased to upwards of .50,000 men. On the other hand, the emperor, perceiving that his troops had been destroyed, ordered new levies and raised a force of 1 50,000 men, giving directions to his generals to give no quarter to the Christians, with the exception of the two young lords who commanded them, whom he wished to secure alive, that he might put them to death by slow torture. All offers of accom- modation were refused, and the emperor took the field in person. The armies again met, and on the first day's battle the victory was on the part of the Christians; still they had to lament the loss of one of their generals, who was wounded and taken prisoner, and no quarter having been given, their loss was severe. '' The second day's combat was fatal to the Christians. Their general was killed ; they were overpowered by numbers, and fell to a man. The emperor then attacked the camp in the rear, and put to the sword every old man, woman, and child. On the field of battle, in the camp, and by subsequent torture, more than 60,000 Christians perished. But this was not all ; a rigorous search for Christians was made throughout the islands for many years ; and they were, when found, put to death by the most cruel torture. It was not until fifteen years ago that Christianity was entirely rooted out of the Japanese empire, and during a persecution of somewhat more than sixteen years, it is supposed that upwards of 400,000 Chris- tians were destroyed ; and all this slaughter, my sou, was occa- sioned by the falsehood and avarice of that man who met his just punishment but a few days ago. The Dutch company, pleased with ' his conduct, which procured for them such advantages, continued him for many years as the president of their factory at Japan. He was a young man when he first went there, but his hair was grey when he thought of return- ing to his own country. He had amassed immense wealth immense, indeed, must it have been to have satisfied avarice such as his ! All has now perished with him, and he has been 121 THE PHANTOM SHIP summoned to his account. Reflect a little, my son. Is it not better to follow up our path of duty, to eschew the riches and pleasures of this world, and, at our summons hence, to feel that we have hopes of bliss hereafter ? " " Most true, holy father," replied Philip, musing. " I have but a few years to live," continued the old man, "and God knows I shall quit this world without reluctance." " And so could I," replied Philip. " You. my son ! no. You are young, and should be full of hopes. You have still to do your duty in that station to which it shall please God to call you." "I know that I have a duty to perform," replied Philip. "Father, the night air is too keen for one so aged as you. Retire to your bed, and leave me to my watch and my own thoughts." " I will, my son ! may Heaven guard you ! Take an old man's blessing. Good night." " Good night," replied Philip, glad to be alone. " Shall I confess all to him ? " thought Philip. " I feel I could confess to him but no. I would not to Father Seysen why to him ? I should put myself in his power, and he might order me No, no! my secret is my own. I need no advisers." And Philip pulled out the relic from his bosom, and put it reverently to his lips. The Batavia waited a few days at St. Helena, and then con- tinued her voyage. In six weeks Philip again found himself at anchor in the Zuyder Zee, and having the captain's permission, he immediately set off for his own home, taking with him the old Portuguese priest Mathias, with whom he had formed a great intimacy, and to whom he had offered his protection for the time he might wish to remain in the Low Countries. CHAPTER XIII Jr AR be it from me to wish to annoy you, my son," said Father Mathias, as with difficulty he kept pace with the rapid strides of Philip, who was now within a quarter of a mile of his home ; " but still, recollect that this is but a transitory world, and that much time has elapsed since you quitted this 122 THE PHANTOM SHIP spot. For that reason, I would fain desire you, if possible, to check these bounding aspirations after happiness, these joyful anticipations in which you have indulged since we quitted the vessel. I hope and trust in the mercy of God that all will be right, and that in a few minutes you will be in the arms of your much-loved wife; but still, in proportion as you allow your hopes to be raised, so will you inevitably have them crushed should disappointment cross your path. At Flushing we were told that there has been a dreadful visitation in this lard, and death may not have spared even one so young and fair." " Let us hasten on, father," replied Philip. " What you say is true, and suspense becomes most dreadful." Philip increased his speed, leaving the old man to follow him ; he arrived at the bridge with its wooden gate. It was then about seven o'clock in the morning, for they had crossed the Scheldt at the dawn of day. Philip observed that the lower shutters were still closed. "They might have been up and stirring before this," thought he, as he put his hand to the latch of the door. It was not fastened. Philip entered ; there was a light burning in the kitchen ; he pushed open the door, and beheld a maid- servant leaning back in her chair, in a profound sleep. Before he had time to go in and awaken her, he heard a voice at the top of the stairs, saying, " Marie, is that the doctor ? " Philip waited no longer ; in three bounds he was on the landing-place above, and brushing by the person who had spoken, he opened the door of Amine's room. A floating wick in a tumbler of oil gave but a faint and glimmering light ; the curtains of the bed were drawn, and by the side of it was kneeling a figure that was well known to Philip that of Father Seysen. Philip recoiled ; the blood retreated to his heart ; he could not speak : panting for breath, he supported himself against the wall, and at last vented his agony of feeling by a deep groan, which aroused the priest, who turned his head, and perceiving who it was, rose from his knees, and extended his hand in silence. "She is dead, then ! " at last exclaimed Philip. " No, my son, not dead ; there is yet hope. The crisis is at hand ; in one more hour her fate will be decided : then either will she be restored to your arms, or follow the many hundreds whom this fatal epidemic has consigned to the tcriib." 123 THE PHANTOM SHIP Father Seysen then led Philip to the side of the bed, and withdrew the curtain. A mine lay insensible, but breathing heavily ; her eyes were closed. Philip seized her burning hand, knelt down, pressed it to his lips, and burst into a paroxysm of tears. As soon as he had become somewhat composed, Father Seysen persuaded him to rise and sit with him by the side of the bed. "This is a melancholy sight to witness at your return, Philip," said he ; " and to you who are so ardent, so im- petuous, it must be doubly so ; but God's will be done. Remember, there is yet hope not strong hope, I grant ; but still, there is hope, for so told me the medical man who has attended her, and who will return, I expect, in a few minutes. Her disease is a typhus fever, which has swept off whole families within these last two months, and still rages violently ; fortunate, indeed, is the house which has to mourn but one victim. I would that you had not arrived just now, for it is a disease easily communicated. Many have fled from the country for security. To add to our misfortunes, we have suffered from the want of medical advice, for physician and patient have been swept away together." The door was now slowly opened, and a tall dark man, in a brown cloak, holding to his nose a sponge saturated with vinegar, entered the room. He bowed his head to Philip and the priest, and then went to the bedside. For a minute he held his fingers to the pulse of the sufferer, then laying down her arm, he put his hand to her forehead, and covered her up with the bedclothes. He handed to Philip the sponge and vinegar, making a sign that he should use it, and beckoned Father Seysen out of the room. In a minute the priest returned. " I have received his directions, my son ; he thinks that she may be saved. The clothes must be kept on her, and replaced if she should throw them off; but everything will depend upon quiet and calm after she recovers her senses." "Surely, we can promise her that," replied Philip. " It is not the knowledge of your return, or even the sight of you, which alarms me. Joy seldom kills, even when the shock is great, but there are other causes for uneasiness," What are they, holy father ? " 124 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Philip, it is now thirteen days that Amine has raved, and during that period I have seldom quitted her but to perform the duties of my office to others who required it. I have been afraid to leave her, Philip, for in her ravings she has told such a tale, even unconnected as it lias been, as has thrilled my soul with horror. It evidently has long lain heavily on her mind, and must retard her recovery. Philip Vanderdecken, you may remember that I would once have had the secret from you the secret which forced your mother to her tomb, and which now may send your young wife to follow her, for it is evident that she knows all. Is it not true?" "She does know all," replied Philip mournfully. " And she has in her delirium told all. Nay, I trust she has told more than all ; but of that we will not speak now : watch her, Philip. I will return in half-an-hour, for by that time, the doctor tells me, the symptoms will decide whether she will return to reason, or be lost to you for ever." Philip whispered to the priest that he had been accom- panied by Father Mathias, who was to remain as his guest, and requested him to explain the circumstances of his present position to him, and see that he was attended to. Father Seysen then quitted the room, when Philip sat down by the bedside, and drew back the curtain. Perhaps there is no situation in life so agonising to the feelings as that in which Philip was now placed. His joyful emotions, when expecting to embrace in health and beauty the object of his warmest affections, and of his continual thought during his long absence, suddenly checked by dis- appointment, anxiety, and grief, at finding her lying emaci- ated, changed, corrupted with disease her mind overthrown her eyes unconscious of his presence her existence hang- ing by a single hair her frame prostrate before the King of Terrors, who hovers over her with uplifted dart, and longs for the fiat which should permit him to pierce his unconscious Victim. " Alas ! " thought Philip, " is it thus we meet, Amine ? Truly did Father Mathias advise me, as I hurried so impetu- ously along, not (as I fondly thought) to happiness, but to misery. God of Heaven ! be merciful and forgive me. If I have loved this angelic creature of Thy formation; even more 125 THE PHANTOM SHIP than I have Thee, spare her, good Heaven, spare her or I am lost for ever." Philip covered up his face, and remained for some time in prayer. He then bent over his Amine, and impressed a kiss upon her burning lips. They were burning, but still there Was moisture upon them, and Philip perceived that there was also moisture on her forehead. He felt her hand, and the palm of it was moist ; and carefully covering her with the bedclothes, he watched her with anxiety and hope. In a quarter of an hour he had the delight of perceiving that Amine was in a profuse perspiration ; gradually her breathing became less heavy, and instead of the passive state in which she had remained, she moved, and became restless. Philip watched, and replaced the clothes as she threw them off, until she at last appeared to have fallen into a profound and sweet sleep. Shortly after, Father Seysen and the phy- sician made their appearance. Philip stated, in few words, what had occurred. The doctor went to the bedside, and in half a minute returned. " Your wife is spared to you, Mynheer, but it is not advisable that she should see you so unexpectedly ; the shock may be too great in her weak state ; she must be allowed to sleep as long as possible ; on her waking she will have returned to reason. You must leave her then to Father Seysen." " May I not remain in the room until she wakes ? I will then hasten away unobserved." "That will be useless; the disease is contagious, and you have been here too long already. Remain below ; you must change your clothes, and see that they prepare a bed for her in another room, to which she must be transported as soon as you think she can bear it ; and then let these windows be thrown open, that the room may be properly ventilated. It will not do to have a wife just rescued from the jaws of death run the risk of falling a sacrifice to the attentions necessary to a sick husband." Philip perceived the prudence of this advice, and quitting the room with the medical man, he went and changed his clothes, and then joined Father Mathias, whom he found in the parlour below. " You were right, father/' said Philip, throwing himself on the sofa. 126 THE PHANTOM SHIP "I am old and suspicious, you are young and buoyant, Philip; but I trust all may yet be well." " I trust so too," replied Philip. He then remained silent and absorbed in thought, for now that the imminent danger was over he was reflecting upon what Father Seysen had communicated to him, relative to Amine's having revealed the secret whilst in a state of mental aberration. The priest perceiving that his mind was occupied, did not interrupt him. An hour had thus passed, when Father Seysen entered the room. " Return thanks to Heaven, my son. Amine has awakened, and is perfectly sensible and collected. There is now little doubt of her recovery. She has taken the restorative ordered by the doctor, though she was so anxious to repose once more, that she could hardly be persuaded to swallow it. She is now again fast asleep, and watched by one of the maidens, and in all probability will not move for many hours ; but every moment of such sleep is precious, and she must not be disturbed. I )vill now see to some refreshment, which must be needful to us all. Philip, you have not introduced me to your companion, who, I perceive, is of my own calling." "Forgive me, sir," replied Philip; "you will have great pleasure in making acquaintance with Father Mathias, who has promised to reside with me, I trust, for some time. I will leave you together, and see to the breakfast being pre- pared ; for the delay of which I trust Father Mathias will accept my apology." Philip then left the room and went into the kitchen. Having ordered what was requisite to be taken into the parlour, he put on his hat and walked out of the house. He could not eat ; his mind was in a state of confusion ; the events of the morning had been too harassing and exciting, and he felt as if the fresh air was necessary to his existence. As he proceeded, careless in what direction, he met many with whom he had been acquainted, and from whom he had received condolence at his supposed bereavement, and con- gratulations when they learnt from him that the danger was over ; and from them he also learnt how faU:l had been the pestilence. Not one-third of the inhabitants of Terncuse and the sur- rounding country remained alive, and those who had recovered 127 THE PHANTOM SHIP were in a state of exhaustion, which prevented them from returning to their accustomed occupations. They had com- bated disease, but remained the prey of misery and want ; and Philip mentally vowed that he would appropriate all his savings to the relief of those around him. It was not until more than two hours had passed away that Philip returned to the cottage. On his arrival he found that Amine still slumbered, and the two priests were in conversation below. " My son," said Father Seysen, " let us now have a little explanation. I have had a long conference with this good father, who hath much interested me with his account of the extension of our holy religion among the pagans. He hath communicated to me much to rejoice at, and much to grieve for ; but, among other questions put to him, I have (in conse- quence of what I have learnt during the mental alienation of your wife) interrogated him upon the point of a supernatural appearance of a vessel in the Eastern seas. You observe, Philip, that your secret is known to me, or I could not have put that question. To my surprise he hath stated a visitation of the kind to which he was eye-witness, and which cannot reasonably be accounted for, except by supernatural inter- position. A strange and certainly most awful visitation ! Philip, would it not be better (instead of leaving me in a maze of doubt) that you now confided to us both .-ill the facts connected with this strange history, so that we may ponder on them, and give you the benefit of the advice of those who are older than yourself, and who by their calling may be able to decide more correctly whether this supernatural power has been exercised by a good or evil intelligence?" "The holy father speaks well, Philip Vanderdecken," ob- served Mathias. " If it be the work of the Almighty, to whom should you confide, and by whom should you be guided, but by those who do His service on this earth ? If of the Evil One, to whom but to those whose duty and wish it is to counteract his baneful influence ? And reflect, Philip, that this secret may sit heavily on the mind of your cherished wife, and may bow her to the grave as it did your (I trust) sainted mother. With you, and supported by your presence, she may bear it well ; but recollect how many are the lonely days and nights 128 THE PHANTOM SHIP that she must pass during your absence, and how much she must require the consolation arid help of others. A secret like this must be as a gnawing worm, and, strong as she may be in courage, must shorten her existence but for the support and the balm she may receive from the ministers of our faith. It was cruel and selfish of you, Philip, to leave her, a lone woman, to bear up against your absence, and at the same time oppressed with so fatal a knowledge." " You have convinced me, holy father," replied Philip. " I feel that I should before this have made you acquainted with this strange history. I will now state the whole of the circumstances which have occurred, but with little hope your advice can help me in a case so difficult, and in a duty so peremptory, yet so perplexing." Philip then entered into a minute detail of all that had passed from the few days previous to his mother's death until the present time; and when he had concluded, he observed " You see, father, that I have bound myself by a solemn vow that that vow has been recorded and accepted ; and it appears to me that I have nothing now to do but to follow my peculiar destiny." " My son, you have told us strange and startling things things not of this world if you are not deceived. Leave us now. Father Mathias and I will consult upon this serious matter ; and, when we are agreed, you shall know our decision/' Philip went upstairs to see Amine ; she was still in a deep sleep. He dismissed the servant, and watched by the bed- side. For nearly two hours did he remain there, when he was summoned down to meet the two priests. "We have had a long conversation, my son," said Father Seysen, " upon this strange and perhaps supernatural occur- rence. I say perhaps, for I would have rejected the frenzied communications of your mother as the imaginings of a heated brain ; and for the same reason I should have been equally inclined to suppose that the high state of excitement that you were in at the time of her death may have disordered your intellect ; but as Father Mathias positively asserts that a strange, if not supernatural, appearance of a vessel did take place on his passage home, and which appearance tallies with and corroborates the legend if so I may call it to which 129 l THE PHANTOM SHIP you have given evidence, I say that it is not impossible, but that it is supernatural." " Recollect that the same appearance of the Phantom Ship has been permitted to me and to many others," replied Philip. "Yes," replied Father Seysen ; "but who is there alive of those who saw it but yourself? But that is of little import- ance. We will admit that the whols affair is not the work of man, but of a superior intelligence." "Superior, indeed!" replied Philip. "It is the work of Heaven !" "That is a point not so easily admitted; there is another power as well as that which is divine that of the devil! the arch-enemy of mankind ! But as that power, inferior to the power of God, cannot act without His permission, we may in- directly admit that it is the will of Heaven that such signs and portents should be allowed to be given on certain occasions." " Then our opinions are the same, good father." " Nay, not exactly, my son. Elymas the sorcerer was per- mitted to practise his arts gained from the devil that it might be proved, by his overthrow and blindness, how inferior was his master to the Divine Ruler; but it does not therefore follow that sorcery generally was permitted. In this instance it may be true that the evil one has been permitted to exercise his power over the captain and crew of that ship, and, as a warning against such heavy offences, the supernatural appear- ance of the vessel may be permitted. So far we are justified in believing. But the great questions are, first, whether it be your father who is thus doomed ? and, secondly, how far you are necessitated to follow up this mad pursuit, which, it appears to me although it may end in your destruction cannot pos- sibly be the means of rescuing your father from his state of unhallowed abeyance? Do you understand me, Philip?" " I certainly understand what you would say, father ; but " " Answer me not yet. It is the opinion of this holy father as well as of myself, that, allowing the facts to be as you suppose, the revelations made to you are not from on h-'gh, but the suggestions of the devil, to lead you into danger and ultimately to death ; for, if it were your task, as you suppose, why did not the vessel appear on this last voyage, J30 THE PHANTOM SHIP ami how can you (allowing that you met her fifty times) have communication with that, or with those which are but phantoms and shadows, things not of this world? Now, what we propose is, that you should spend a proportion of the money left by your father in masses for the repose of his soul, which your mother, in other circumstances, would certainly have done ; and that, having so done, you should remain quietly on shore until some new sign should be given to you which may warrant our sup- posing that you are really chosen for this strange pursuit?" " But my oath, father my recorded vow ? " " From that, my son, the holy Church hath power to absolve you; and that absolution you shall receive. You have put your- self into our hands, and by our decision you must be guided. If there be wrong, it is we, and not you, who are responsible ; but, at present, let us say no more. I will now go up. and so soon as your wife awakens, prepare her for your meeting." When Father Seysen had quitted the room. Father Malhias debated the matter with Philip. A long discussion ensued, in which similar arguments were made use of by the priest; and Philip, although not convinced, was at least doubtful and perplexed. He left the cottage. "A new sign a corroborative sign," thought Philip; "Surely there have been signs and wonders enough. Still it may be true that masses for my father's soul mav relieve him from his state of torture. At all events, if they decide lor me I am not to blame. Well, then, let us wait for a new sign of the divine will if so it must be;" and Philip walked on, occasionally thinking on the arguments of Father Seysen, and oftener thinking of Amine. It was now evening, and the sun was fast descending. Philip wandered on, until at last he arrived at the very spot where he had knelt down and pronounced his solemn vow. He recognised it: he looked at the distant hills. The sun was just at the same height ; the whole scene, the place, and the time were before him. Again Philip knelt down, took the relic from his bosom and kissed it. He watched the sun he bowed himself to the earth. He waited for a sign ; but the sun sank down, and the veil of night spread over the landscape. There was no sign ; and Philip rose and walked home towards the cottage, more inclined than before to follow the suggestions of Father Ceysen. 131 THE PHANTOM SHIP On his return, Philip went softly upstairs, and entered the room of Amine, whom he found awake and in conversation with the priests. The curtain was closed, and he was not per- ceived. With a beating heart he remained near the wall at the head of the bed. " Reason to believe that my husband has arrived ! " said Amine, in a faint voice. " Oh tell me, why so ?" " His ship is arrived we know ; and one who had seen her said that all were well." " And why is he not here, then ? Who should bring the news of his return but himself? Father Seysen, either he has not arrived or he is here I know he must be, if he is safe and well. I know my Philip too well. Say ! is he not here ? Fear not, if you say yes ; but if you say no, you kill me ! " " He is here, Amine," replied Father Seysen " here and well." " O God ! I thank you ; but where is he ? If he is here, he must be in this room, or else you deceive me. Oh, this sus- pense is death ! " " I am here," cried Philip, opening the curtains. Amine rose with a shriek, held out her arms, and then fell senseless back. In a few seconds, however, she was restored, and proved the truth of the good father's assertion, " that joy does not kill." We must now pass over the few days during which Philip watched the couch of his Amine, who rapidly regained her strength. As soon as she was well enough to enter upon the subject, Philip narrated all that had passed since his departure; the confession which he had made to Father Seysen, and the result. Amine, too glad that Philip should remain with her, added her persuasions to those of the priests, and, for some little time, Philip talked no more of going to sea. CHAPTER XIV weeks had flown away, and Amine, restored to health, wandered over the country, hanging on the arm of her adored Philip, or nestled by his side in their comfortable home. Father Mathias still remained their guest ; the masses for the 132 THE PHANTOM SHIP repose of the soul of Vanderdecken had been paid for, and more money had been confided to the care of Father Seysen to relieve the sufferings of the afflicted poor. It may be easily supposed that one of the chief topics of conversation between Philip and Amine was the decision of the two priests relative to the conduct of Philip. He had been absolved from his oath, but, at the same time that he submitted to his clerical advisers, he was by no means satisfied. His love for Amine, her wishes for his remaining at home, certainly added weight to the fiat of Father Seysen; but, although he in consequence obeyed it more willingly, his doubts of the propriety of his conduct remained the same. The arguments of Amine who, now that she was supported by the opinion of the priests, had become opposed to Philip's departure even her caresses, with which those arguments were mingled, were effective but for the moment. No sooner was Philip left to himself, no sooner was the question, for a time, dismissed, than he felt an inward accusation that he was neglecting a sacred duty. Amine per- ceived how often the cloud was upon his brow ; she knew too well the cause, and constantly did she recommence her argu- ments and caresses, until Philip forgot that there was aught but Amine in the world. One morning, as they were seated upon a green br.nk picking the flowers that blossomed round them, and tossing them away in pure listlessness, Amine took the opportunity, that she had often waited for, to enter upon a subject hitherto unmentioned. "Philip," said she, "do you believe in dreams? think you that we may have supernatural communications by such means t "Of course we may," replied Philip; "we have proof abundant of it in the holy writings." " Why, then, do you not satisfy your scruples by a dream ? " " My dearest Amine, dreams come unbidden ; we cannot command or prevent them " We can command them, Philip ; say that you would dream upon the subject nearest to vour heart, and you &hall ! '' "I shall?' 5 "Yes! I have that power, Philip, although I have not spoken of it. I had it from my mother, with much more that of late I have never thought of. You know, Philip, I neve* 13.3 THE PHANTOM SHIP say that which is not. I tell you that, if you choose, yot: shall dream upon it." " And to what good, Amine ? If you have power to makq me dream, that power must be from somewhere. ' " It is, of course : there are agencies you little think of, which, in my country, are still called into use. I have a charm, Philip, which never fails." " A charm, Amine ! do you, then, deal in sorcery ? for such powers cannot be from Heaven." " I cannot tell. I only know the power is given." "It must be from the devil, Amine." " And why so, Philip ? May 1 not use the argument of your own priests, who say ' that the power of the devil is only permitted to be used by divine intelligence, and that it cannot be used without that permission ' ? Allow it, then, to be sorcery, or what you please, unless by Heaven permitted, it would fail. But I cannot see why we should suppose that it is from an evil source. We ask for a warning in a dream to guide our conduct in doubtful circumstances. Surely, the evil one would rather lead us wrong than right ! " " Amine, we may be warned in a dre'im, as the patriarchs were of old ; bat to use mystic or unholy charms to procure a vision, is making a compact with the devil." " Which compact the devil could not fulfil if not permitted by a higher power. Philip, your reasoning is false. We are told that, by certain means, duly observed, we may procure the dreams we wish. Our observance of these means Is certainly the least we can attend to, to prove our sincerity. Forgive me, Philip, but are not observances as necessary in your religion which I have embraced ? Are we not told that the omission of the mere ceremony of water to the infant will turn all future chance of happiness to misery eternal ? " Philip answered not for some time. " I am afraid, Amine," said he at last, in a low tone ; " I " " I fear nothing, Philip, when my intentions are good," replied Amine. " I follow certain means to obtain an end. What is that end ? It is to find out (if possible) what may be the will of Heaven in this perplexing case. If it should be through the agency of the devil -what then ? He be- comes my servant, and not my master ; he is permitted by 134 THE PHANTOM SHIP Heaven to act against himself;" and Amine's eyes darted fire, as she thus boldly expressed herself. " Did your mother often exercise her art ? " inquired Philip, after a pause. " Not to my knowledge ; but it was said that she was most expert. She died young (as you know), or 1 should have known much more. Think you, Philip, that this world is solely peopled by such dross as we are ? things of clay perishable and corruptible ? Lords over beasts and our- selves but little better. Have you not, from your own sacred writings, repeated acknowledgments and proofs of higher intelligences mixing up with mankind and acting here below ? Why should what was then not be now ? and what more harm is there to apply for their aid now than a few thousand years ago ? Why should you suppose that they were per- mitted on the earth then and not permitted now ? What has become of them ? Have they perished ? have they been ordered back to where to heaven ? If to heaven the world and mankind have been left to the mercy of the devil and his agents. Do you suppose that we, poor .mortals, have been thus abandoned ? I tell you plainly, I think not. We no longer have the communications with those intelligences that we once had, because, as we become more enlightened, we become more proud, and seek them not ; but that they still exist a host of good against a host of evil, invisibly opposing each other is my conviction. But tell me, Philip, do you in your conscience believe that all that has been revealed to you is a mere dream of the imagination ? " " I do not believe so, Amine : you know well I wish I could." " Then is my reasoning proved : for if such communications can be made to you, why cannot others ? You cannot tell by what agency ; your priests say it is that of the evil one ; you think it is from on high. By the same rule who is to decide from whence the dream shall come ?" " 'Tis true, Amine ; but are you certain of your power ? " " Certain of this : that if it pleases superior intelligence to communicate with you, that communication may be relied upon. Either you will not dream, but pass away the hours in deep sleep, or what you dream will be connected with the question at issue." 135 THE PHANTOM SHIP "Then, Amine, I have made up my mind I will dream: for at present my mind is racked by contending and per- plexing doubts. I would know whether I am right or wrong. This night your art shall be employed." Not this night, nor yet to-morrow night, Philip. Think you one moment that, in proposing this, I serve you against my own wishes ? I feel as if the dream will decide against me, and that you will be commanded to return to your duty ; for I tell you honestly, I think not with the priests ; but I am your wife, Philip, and it is my duty that you should not be deceived. Having the means, as I suppose, to decide your conduct, I offer them. Promise me that, if I do this, you will grant me a favour which I shall ask as my reward." " It is promised, Amine, without its being known," replied Philip, rising from the turf; "and now let us go home." We observed that Philip, previous to his sailing in the Batavia, had invested a large proportion of his funds in Dutch East India Stock : the interest of the money was more than sufficient for the wants of Amine, and, on his return, he found that the funds left in her charge had accumulated. After paying to Father Seysen the sums for the masses and for the relief of the poor there was a considerable residue, and Philip had employed this in the purchase of more shares in the India Stocks. The subject of their conversation was not renewed. Philip was rather averse to Amine practising those mystical arts, which, if known to the priests, would have obtained for her, in all probability, the anathema of the Church. He could not but admire the boldness and power of Amine's reason- ings, but still he was averse to reduce them into practice. The third day had passed away, and no more had been said upon the subject. Philip retired to bed, and was soon fast asleep ; but Amine slept not. So soon as she was convinced that Philip would not be awakened, she slipped from the bed and dressed herself. She left the room, and in a quarter of an hour returned, bringing in her hand a small brazier of lighted charcoal, and two small pieces of parchment, rolled up and fixed by a knot to the centre of a narrow fillet. They exactly resembled the phylacteries that were once worn by the Jewish nation, and were similarly applied. One of them she gently 136 THE PHANTOM SHIP bound upon the forehead of her husband, and the other upon his left arm. She threw perfumes into the brazier, and as the form of her husband was becoming indistinct, from the smoke which filled the room, she muttered a few sentences, waved over him a small sprig of some shrub which she held in her white hand, and then closing the curtains and removing the brazier, she sat down by the side of the bed. " If there be harm," thought Amine, "at least the deed is not his 'tis mine ; they cannot say that he has practised arts that are unlawful and forbidden by his priests. On my head be it!" And there was a contemptuous curl on Amine's beautiful arched lip, which did not say much for her devotion to her new creed. Morning dawned, and Philip still slumbered. "'Tis enough," said Amine, who had been watching the rising of the sun, as she beheld his upper limb appear above the horizon. Again she waved her arm over Philip, holding the sprig in her hand, and cried, " Philip, awake ! " Philip started up, opened his eyes, and shut them again to avoid the glare of the broad daylight, rested upon his elbow, and appeared to be collecting his thoughts. " Where am I ?" exclaimed he. "In my own bed? Yes!" He passed his hand across his forehead, and felt the scroll. "What is this?" continued he, pulling it ( ft', and examining it. "And Amine, where is she? Good Heavens, what a dream! Another?" cried he, perceiving the scroll tied to his arm. " I see it now. Amine, this is your doing." And Philip threw himself down, and buried his face in the pillow. Amine, in the meantime, had slipped into bed, and had taken her place by Philip's side. " Sleep, Philip, dear : sleep ! " said she, putting her arms round him ; " we will talk when we wake again." " Are you there, Amine ? " replied Philip, confused. " I thought I was alone ; I have dreamed And Philip again was fast asleep before he could complete his sen- tence. Amine, too, tired with watching, slumbered, and Mas happy. Fath Bather Mathias had to wait a long while for his breakfast that morning; it was not till two hours later than usual that Philip and Amine made their appearance. 137 THE PHANTOM SHIP u Welcome, my children/' said he. " You are late." "We are, father," replied Amine ; "for Philip slept, and I watched till break of day." " He hath not been ill, I trust," replied the priest. " No, not ill ; but I could not sleep," replied Amine. "Then didst thou do well to pass the night, as I doubt not thou hast done, my child, in holy watchings." Philip shuddered ; he knew that the watching, had its cause been known, would have been, in the priest's opinion, anything but holy. Amine quickly replied " I have, indeed, communed with higher powers, as far as my poor intellect has been able." "The blessing of our holy Church upon thee, my child !" said the old man, putting his hand upon her head; "and on thee too, Philip." Philip, confused, sat down to the table ; Amine was col- lected as ever. She spoke little, it is true, and appeared to commune with her own thoughts. As soon as the repast was finished, the old priest took up his breviary, and Amine beckoning to Philip, they went out together. They walked in silence until they arrived at the green spot where Amine had first proposed to him that she should use her mystic power. She sat down, and Philip, fully awar.e of her purpose, took his seat by her in silence. " Philip," said Amine, taking his hand, and looking earnestly in his face, " last night you dreamed." "I did indeed, Amine," replied Philip gravely. " Tell me your dream : for it will be for me to expound it." "I fear it needs but little exposition, Amine. All I would know is, from what intelligence the dream has been received." "Tell me your dream," replied Amine calmly. " I thought," replied Philip mournfully, " that I was sailing as captain of a vessel round the Cape ; the sea was calm and the breeze light ; I was abaft ; the sun went down, and the stars were more than usually brilliant ; the weather was warm, and I lay down on my cloak, with my face to the heavens, watching the gems twinkling in the sky and the occasionally falling meteors. I thought that I fell asleep, and awoke with a sensation as if sinking down. I looked around me ; the masts, the rigging, the hull of the vessel all had disappeared, and I was floating by myself upon a large, 138 THE PHANTOM SHIP beautifully shaped shell on the wide waste of waters. I was alarmed, and afraid to move, lest I should overturn my frail bark and perish. At last I perceived the fore-part of the shell pressed down, as if a weight wei e hanging to it ; and soon afterwards a small, white hand, which grasped it. I remained motionless, and would have called out that my little bark would sink, but I could not. Gradually a figure raised itself from the waters, and leaned with both arms over the fore-part of the shell, where I first had seen but the hand. It was a female, in form beautiful to excess ; the skin was white as driven snow ; her long loose hair covered her, and the ends floated in the water ; her arms were rounded and like ivory. She said, in a soft, sweet voice " ' Philip Vanderdecken, what do you fear ? Have you not a charmed life ? ' " ' I know not,' replied I, ' whether my lile be charmed or not ; but this I know, that it is in danger.' " ' In danger ! ' replied she ; ' it might have been in danger when you were trusting to the frail works of men, which the waves love to rend to fragments your good ships, as you call them, which but float about upon sufferance ; but where can be the danger when in a mermaid's shell, which the mountain wave respects, ?nd upon which the cresting surge dare not throw its spray ? Philip Vanderdecken, you have come to seek your father ! ' " ' I have/ replied I ; ' is it not the will of Heaven ? ' " ' It is your destiny and destiny rules all above and below. Shall we seek him together ? This shell is mine ; you know not how to navigate it ; shall I assist you ? ' " ' Will it bear us both ? ' "'You will see,' replied she, laughing, as she sank down from the fore part of the shell, and immediately afterwards appeared at the side, which was not more than three inches above the water. To my alarm, she raised herself up, and sat upon the edge, but her weight appeared to have no effect. As soon as she was seated in this way for her feet still remained in the water the shell moved rapidly along, and each moment increased its speed, with no other propelling power than that of her volition. " ' Do you fear now, Philip Vanderdecken?' " ' No ! ' replied I. 139 THE PHANTOM SHIP "She passed her hands across her forehead, threw aside the tresses which had partly concealed her face, and said "'Then look at me.' " I looked, Amine, and I beheld you ! " "Me !" observed Amine, with a smile upon her lips. " Yes, Amine, it was you. I called you by your name, and threw my arms round you. I felt that I could remain with you, and sail about the world for ever." " Proceed, Philip," said Amine calmly. " I thought we ran thousands and thousands of miles we passed by beautiful islands, set like gems on the ocean bed ; at one time bounding against the rippling current, at others close to the shore skimming on the murmuring wave which rippled on the sand, whilst the cocoa-tree on the beach waved to the cooling breeze. " ' It is not in smooth seas that your father must be sought,' said she, 'we must try elsewhere.' " By degrees the waves rose, until at last they were raging in their fury, and the shell was tossed by the tumultuous waters ; but still not a drop entered, and we sailed in security over billows which would have swallowed up the proudest vessel. "' Do you fear now, Philip?' said you to me. " ' No,' replied I ; ' with you, Amine, I fear nothing.' "'We are now off the Cape again,' said she; 'and here you may find your father. Let us look well round us, for if we meet a ship it must be his. None but the Phantom Ship could swim in a gale like this.' "Away we flew over the mountainous waves skimming from crest to crest between them, our little bark sometimes wholly out of the water ; now east, now west, north, south, in every quarter of the compass, changing our course each minute. We passed over hundreds of miles at last we saw a vessel, tossed by the furious gale. " ' There/ cried she, pointing with her finger, ' there is your father's vessel, Philip.' " Rapidly did we approach they saw us from on board, and brought the vessel to the wind. We were alongside - the gangway was clearing away for though no boat could have boarded, our shell was safe. I looked up. I saw my father, Amine ! Yes, saw him, and heard him as he gave his orders. 140 THE PHANTOM SHIP I pulled the relic from my bosom, and held it out to him. He smiled as he stood on the gunnel, holding on by the main shrouds. I was just rising to mount on board, for they had handed to me the man-ropes, when there was a loud yell, and a man jumped from the gangway into the shell. You shrieked, slipped from the side, and disappeared under the wave, and in a moment the shell, guided by the man who had taken your place, flew away from the vessel with the rapidity of thought. I felt a deadly chill pervade my frame. I turned round to look at my new companion ; it was the pilot Schriften ! the one-eyed wretch who was drowned when we were wrecked in Table Bay ! " < No ! no ! not yet ' ' cried he. " In an agony of despair and rage, I hurled him off his seat on the shell, and he floated on the wild waters. " ' Philip Vanderdecken,' said he, as he swam, ' we shall meet again !' " I turned away my head in disgust, when a wave filled my bark, and down it sank. 1 was struggling under the water, sinking still deeper and deeper, but without pain, when I awoke. " Now, Amine," said Philip, after a pause, " what think you of my dream ?" " Does it not point out that I am your friend, Philip, and that the pilot Schriften is your enemy ? " " I grant it ; but he is dead." " Is that so certain ? " " He hardly could have escaped without my knowledge." " That is true, but the dream would imply otherwise. Philip, it is my opinion that the only way in which tiiis dream is to be expounded is that you remain on shore for the present. The advice is that of the priests. In either case you require some further intimation. In your dream / was your safe guide be guided now by me again." " Be it so, Amine. If your strange art be in opposition to our holy faith, you expound the dream in conformity with the advice of its ministers." " I do. And now, Philip, let us dismiss the subject from our thoughts. Should the time come, your Amine will not persuade you from your duty; but recollect, you have promised to grant one favour when I ask it." 141 THE PHANTOM SHIP " I have ; say, then, Araine, what may be your wish ? " " Oh! nothing at present. I have no wish on earth but what is gratified. Have I not you, dear Philip ? " replied Amine, fondly throwing herself on her husband's shoulder. CHAPTER XV IT was about three months after this conversation that Amine and Philip were again seated upon the mossy bank which we have mentioned, and which had become their favourite resort. Father Mathias had contracted a great intimacy with Father Seysen, and the two priests were almost as inseparable as were Philip and Amine. Having determined to await a summons previous to Philip's again entering upon his strange and fearful task, and happy in the possession of each other, the subject was seldom revived. Philip, who had, on his return, expressed his wish to the Directors of the Company fbr immediate employment, and, if possible, to have the command of a vessel, had, since that period, taken no further steps, nor had any communication with Amsterdam. "I am fond of this bank, Philip," said Amine; "I appear to have formed an intimacy with it. It was here, if you recollect, that we debated the subject of the lawfulness of inducing dreams ; and it was here, dear Philip, that you told me your dream, and that I expounded it." "You did so, Amine ; but if you ask the opinion of Father Seysen, you will find that he would give rather a strong deci- sion against you he would call it heretical and damnable." " Let him, if he pleases. I have no objection to tell him." " I pray not, Amine ; let the secret remain with ourselves only." "Think you Father Mathias would blame me?" " I certainly do." " Well, I do not ; there is a kindness and liberality about the old man that I admire. I should like to argue the question with him." As Amine spoke, Philip felt something touch his shoulder, and a sudden chill ran through his frame. In a moment his ideas reverted to the probable cause : he turned round his 14-2 THE PHANTOM SHIP head, and, to his amazement, beheld the (supposed to be drowned) pilot of the Tcr Schilling, the one-eyed Schriften, who stood behind him, with a letter in his hand. The sudden appearance of this malignant wretch induced Philip to exclaim, " Merciful Heaven ! is it possible ? " Amine, who had turned her head round at the exclamation of Philip, covered up her face, and burst into tears. It was not fear that caused this unusual emotion on her part, but the conviction that her husband was never to be at rest but in the grave. " Philip Vanderdecken," said Sehriften, " he ! he ! I've a letter for you it is from the Company." Philip took the letter, but, previous to opening it, he fixed his eyes upon Schriften. " I thought," said he, " that you were drowned when the ship was wrecked in False Bay. How did you escape ? " " How did I escape ? " replied Schriften. " Allow me to ask, how did you escape ?" " I was thrown up by the waves/' replied Philip ; " but "But," interrupted Schriften, "he! he! the waves ought not to have thrown me up." "And why not, pray ? I did not say that," " No ! but I presume you wish it had been so ; but, on the contrary, I escaped in the same way that you did I was thrown up by the waves he ' he ! but 1 can't wait here. I have done my bidding." " Stop," replied Philip ; "answer me one question. Do you sail in the same vessel with me this time ? " " I'd rather be excused," replied Schriften ; " I am not looking for the Phantom Ship, Mynheer Vanderdecken ; " and with this reply, the little man turned round, and went away at a rapid pace. " Is not this a summons, Amine f " said Philip, after a pause, still holding the letter in his hand, with the seal unbroken. " I will not deny it, dearest Philip. It is most surely so; the hateful messenger appears to have risen from the grave that he might deliver it. Forgive me, Philip ; but I was taken by surprise. I will not again annoy you with a woman's weakness." "My poor Amine," replied Philip mournfuHv. "Alas! U3 THE PHANTOM SHIP why did I not perform my pilgrimage alone ? It was selfish of me to link you with so much wretchedness, and join you with me in bearing the fardel of never-ending anxiety and suspense." " And who should bear it with you, my dearest Philip, if it is not the wife of your bosom ? You little know my heart, if you think I shrink from the duty. No, Philip, it is a pleasure, even in its most acute pains ; for I consider that I am, by partaking with, relieving you of a portion of your sorrow, and I feel proud that I am the wife of one who has been selected to be so peculiarly tried. But, dearest, no more of this: You must read the letter." Philip did not answer. He broke the seal, and found that the letter intimated to him that he was appointed as first mate to the Vrow Kalerina, a vessel which sailed with the next fleet ; and requesting he would join as quickly as possible, as she would soon be ready to receive her cargo. The letter, which was from the secretary, further informed him that, after this voyage, he might be certain of having the com- mand of a vessel as captain, upon conditions which would be explained when he called upon the Board. " I thought, Philip, that you had requested the command of a vessel for this voyage," observed Amine mournfully. "I did," replied Philip ; "but not having followed up my application, it appears not to have been attended to. It has been my own fault." "And now it is too late." " Yes, dearest, most assuredly so : but it matters not ; I would as willingly, perhaps rather, sail this voyage as first mate." " Philip, I may as well speak now. That I am disappointed, I must confess ; I fully expected that you would have had the command of a vessel, and yon may remember that I exacted a promise from you, on this very bunk upon which we now sit, at the time that you told me your dream. That promise I shall still exact, and I now tell you what I had intended to ask. It was, my dear Philip, permission to sail with you. With you, I care for nothing. I can be happy under every privation or danger; but to be left alone for so long, brooding over my painful thoughts, devoured by suspense, impatient, restless, and incapable of applying to any one thingthat, dear Philip, 144 THE PHANTOM SHIP is the height of misery, and that is what I feel when you are absent. Recollect, I have your promise, Philip. As captain, you have the means of receiving your wife on board. I am bitterly disappointed in being left this time ; do, therefore, to a certain degree, console me by promising that I shall sail with you next voyage, if Heaven permit your return." " I promise it, Amine, since you are so earnest. I can refuse you nothing ; but I have a foreboding that yours and my happiness will be wrecked for ever. I am not a visionary, but it does appear to me that, strangely mixed up as 1 am, at once with this world and the next, some little portion of futurity is opened to me. I have given my promise, Amine, but from it I would fain be released." " And if ill do come, Philip, it is our destiny. Who can avert fate?" " Amine, we are free agents, and to a certain extent are permitted to direct our own destinies." " Ay, so would Father Seysen fain have made me believe ; but what he said in support of his assertion was to me incom- prehensible. And yet he said that it was a part of the Catholic faith. It may be so I am unable to understand many other points. I wish your faith were made more simple. As yet the good man for good he really is has only led me into doubt." ts Passing through doubt, you will arrive at conviction, Amine." " Perhaps so," replied Amine ; "but it appears to me that I am as yet but on the outset of my journey. But come, Philip, let us return. You must to Amsterdam, and 1 will go with you. After your lal>ours of the day. at least until you sail, your Amine's smiles must still enliven you. Is it not so?" "Yes, dearest, I would have proposed it. I wonder much how Schriften could come here. I did not see his body, it is certain, but his escape is to me miraculous. Why did he not appear when saved ? where could he have been ? What think you, Amine ? " "What I have long thought, Philip. He is a ghoul with an evil eye, permitted for some cause to walk the earth in human fonn ; and is certainly, in some way, connected with your strange destiny. If it requires anything to convince me of the truth of all that has passed, it is his appearance 145 K THE PHANTOM SHIP the wretched Afrit ! Oh that I had my mother's powers ! but I forget, it displeases you, Philip, that I ever talk of such things, and I am silent." Philip replied not; and, absorbed in their own medita- tions, they walked back in silence to the cottage. Although Philip had made up his own mind, he immediately sent the Portuguese priest to summon Father Seysen, that he might communicate with them and take their opinion as to the summons he had received. Having entered into a fresh detail of the supposed death of Schriften, and his reappear- ance as a messenger, he then left the two priests to consult together, and went upstairs to Amine. It was more than two hours before Philip was called down, and Father Seysen appeared to be in a state of great perplexity. " My son," said he, " we are much perplexed. We had hoped that our ideas upon this strange communication were correct, and that, allowing all that you have obtained from your mother and have seen yourself to have been no deception, still that it was the work of the evil one, and if so, our prayers and masses would have destroyed this power. We advised you to wait another summons, and you have received it. The letter itself is of course nothing, but the reappearance of the bearer of the letter is the question to be considered. Tell me, Philip, what is your opinion on this point ? It is possible he might have been saved why not as well as yourself?" " I acknowledge the possibility, father," replied Philip ; " he may have been cast on shore and have wandered in another direction. It is possible, although anything but probable ; but since you ask me my opinion, I must say candidly that I consider he is no earthly messenger nay, I am sure of it. Thnt he is mysteriously connected with my destiny is certain. But who he is, and what he is, of course I cannot tell." " Then, my son, we have come to the determination, in this instance, not to advise. You must act now upon your own responsibility and your own judgment. In what way soever you may decide, we shall not blame you. Our prayers shall be that Heaven may still have you in its holy keeping." " My decision, holy father, is to obey the summons." " Be it so, my son ; something may occur which may assist to work nut the mystery a mystery which I acknowledge to THE PHANTOM SHIP be beyond my comprehension, and of too painful a nature for me to dwell upon." Philip said no more, for he perceived that the priest was not at all inclined to converse. Father Mathias took this opportunity of thanking Philip for his hospitality and kind- ness, and stated his intention of returning to Lisbon by the first opportunity that might offer. In a few days A mine and Philip took leave of the priests, and quitted for Amsterdam Father Seysen taking charge of the cottage until Amine's return. On his arrival Philip called upon the Directors of the Company, who promised him a ship on his return from the voyage he was about to enter upon, making a condition that he should become part owner of the vessel. To this Philip consented, and then went down to visit the f'row Katerina, the ship to which he had been appointed as first mate. She was still unrigged, and the fleet was not expected to sail for two months. Only part of the crew were on board, and the captain, who lived at Dort, had not yet arrived. So far as Philip could judge, the I'roiv Katerina was a very inferior vessel ; she was larger than many of the others, but old and badly constructed ; nevertheless, as she had been several voyages to the Indies and had returned in safety, it was to be presumed that she would not have been taken up by the Company if they had not been satisfied as to her sea- worthiness. Having given a few directions to the men who were on board, Philip returned to the hostelry where he had secured apartments for himself and Amine. The next day, as Philip was superintending the fitting of the rigging, the captain of the I'roir Katerina arrived, and stepping on board of her by the plank which communicated with the quay, the first thing that he did was to run to the mainmast and embrace it with both arms, although there was no small portion of tallow on it to smear the cloth of his coat. " O my dear Vrow, my Katerina ' " cried he, as if he were speaking to a female. " How do you do ? I'm glad to see you again ; you have been quite well, I hope ? You do not like being laid up in this way. Never mind, my dear creature ! you shall soon be handsome again." The name of this personage, who thus made love to his Vessel, was Wilhelm Barentz. He was a young man, ap- 117 THE PHANTOM SHIP parently not thirty years of age, of diminutive stature and delicate proportions. His face was handsome, but womanish. His movements were rapid and restless, and there was that appearance in his eye which would have warranted the sup- position that he was a little flighty, even if his conduct had not fully proved the fact. No sooner were the ecstasies of the captain over than Philip introduced himself to him, and informed him of his appoint- ment. " Oh ! you are the first mate of the Vrow Katcrina. Sir, you are a very fortunate man. Next to being captain of her, first mate is the most enviable situation in the world." " Certainly not on account of her beauty," observed Philip ; " she may have many other good qualities." " Not on account of her beauty ! Why, sir, I say (as my father has said before me, and it was his Vron before it was mine) that she is the handsomest vessel in the world. At present you cannot judge ; and besides being the handsomest vessel, she has every good quality under the sun." "I am glad to hear it, sir," replied Philip; "it proves that one should never judge by appearances. But is she not very old." "Old! not more than twenty-eight years just in her prime. Stop, my dear sir, till you see her dancing on the waters, and then you will do nothing all day but discourse with me upon her excellence, and I have no doubt that we shall have a very happy time together." " Provided the subject be not exhausted," replied Philip. " That it never will be on my part : and allow me to observe, Mr. Vanderdecken, that any officer who finds fault with the Vrow Katerina quarrels with me. I am her knight, and I have already fought three men in her defence I trust I shall not have to fight a fourth." Philip smiled : he thought that she was not worth fighting for; but he acted upon the suggestion, and from that time forward he never ventured to express an opinion against the beautiful Vrow Katcrina. The crew were soon complete, the vessel rigged, her sails bent, and she was anchored in the stream, surrounded by the other ships composing the fleet about to be despatched. The cargo was then received on board, and, as soon as her hold was full, there came, to Philip's great vexation, an order to 148 THE PHANTOM SHIP receive on board 150 soldiers and other passengers, many of whom were accompanied by their wives and families. Philip worked hard, for the captain did nothing but praise the vessel, and at last they had embarked everything, and the fleet was ready to sail. It was now time to part with Amine, who had remained at the hostelry, and to whom Philip had dedicated every spare moment that he could obtain. The fleet was expected to sail in two days, and it was decided that on the morrow they should part. Amine was cool and collected. She felt con- vinced that she should see her husband again, and with that feeling she embraced him as they separated on the beach, and he stepped into the boat in which he was to be pulled on board. "Yes," thought Amine, as she watched the form of her husband, as the distance between them increased "yes, I know that we shall meet again. It is not this voyage which is to be fatal to you or me ; but I have a dark foreboding that the next, in which I shall join you, will separate us for ever in which way 1 know not but it is destined. The priests talk of free-will. Is it free-will which takes him away from me ? Would he not rather remain on shore with me ? Yes. But he is not permitted, for he must fulfil his destiny. Free- will ! Why, if it were not destiny it were tyranny. I feel, and have felt, as if these priests are my enemies ; but why I know not : they are both good men, and the creed they teach is good. Goodwill and charity, love to all, forgiveness of injuries, not judging others. All this is good ; and yet my heart whispers to me that - But the boat is alongside, and Philip is climbing up the vessel. Farewell, farewell, my dearest husband. I would I were a man ! No, no ! 'tis better as it is." Amine watched till she could no longer perceive Philip, and then walked slowly to the hostelry. The next day, when she arose, she found that the fleet had sailed at daylight, and the channel, which had been so crowded with vessels, was now untenanted. " He is gone," muttered Amine ; " now for many months of patient, calm enduring I cannot say of living; for I exist but in his presence." J49 THE PHANTOM SHIP CHAPTER XVI "WE must leave Amine to her solitude, and follow the for- tunes of Philip. The fleet had sailed with a flowing sheet, and bore gallantly down the Zuyder Zee ; but they had not been under way an hour before the Vrotv Katerina was left a mile or two astern. Mynheer Barentz found fault with the setting and trimming of the sails, and with the man at the helm, who was repeatedly changed ; in short, with everything but his dear Vroiv Katerina ; but all would not do ; she still dropped astern, and proved to be the worst-sailing vessel in the fleet. " Mynheer Vanderdecken," said he at last, " the Fro;/', as my father used to say, is not so very fast before the wind. Vessels that are good on a wind seldom are : but this I will say, that in every other point of sailing, there is no other vessel in the fleet equal to the I'rotv Katerina." " Besides," observed Philip, who perceived how anxious his captain was on the subject, " we are heavily laden, and have so many troops on deck." The fleet cleared the sands, and were then close hauled, when the /Vow Katerina proved to sail even more slowly than before. " When we are so rcn/ close-hauled," observed Mynheer Barentz, " the J'row does not do so well ; but a point free, and then you will see how she will show her stern to the whole fleet. She is a fine vessel, Mynheer Vanderdecken, is she not?" " A very fine, roomy vessel," replied Philip, which was all that, in conscience, he could say. The fleet sailed on, sometimes on a wind, sometimes free, but let the point of sailing be what it might, the Vrwr Katerina was invariably astern, and the fleet had to heave-to at sunset to enable her to keep company ; still the captain continued to declare that the point of sailing on which they happened to be, was the only point in which the I' row Katerina was deficient. Unfortunately, the vessel had other points quite as bad as her sailing ; she was crank, leaky, and did not answer the helm well, but Mynheer Barentz was not to be convinced. He adored his ship, and like all men desperatelv in love, he could see no fault in his mistress. But others were not so blind, and 150 THE PHANTOM SHIP the admiral, finding the voyage so much delayed by the bad sailing of one vessel, determined to leave her to find her way by herself so soon as they had passed the Cape. He was ; however, spared the cruelty of deserting her, for a heavy gale came on which dispersed the whole fleet, and on the second day the good ship I'rotv Katerina found herself alone, labour- ing heavily in the trough of the sea, leaking so much as to require hands constantly at the pumps, and drifting before the gale as fast to leeward almost as she usually sailed. For a week the gale continued, and each day did her situation become more alarming. Crowded with troops, encumbered with heavy stores, she groaned and laboured, while whole seas washed over her, and the men could hardly stand at the pumps. Philip was active, and exerted himself to the utmost, encouraging the worn-out men, securing where aught had given way, and little interfered with by the captain, who was himself no sailor. "Well," observed the captain to Philip, as they held on by the belaying-pins, "you'll acknowledge that she is a fine weatherly vessel in a gale is she not ? Softly, my beauty, softly," continued he, speaking to the vessel, as she plunged heavily into the waves, and every timber groaned. " Softly, my dear, softly ! How those poor devils in the other ships must be knocking about now ! Heh ! Mynheer Vaiulerdecken, we have the start of them this time : they must be a terrible long way down to leeward. Don't you think so ? " " I really cannot pretend to say," replied Philip, smiling. " Why, there's not one of them in sight. Yes ! by heavens, there is ! Look on our lee beam. I see one now. Well, she must be a capital sailer, at all events : look there, a point abaft the beam. Mercy on me ! how stiff she must be to carry such a press of canvas ! " Philip had already seen her. It was a large ship on a wind, and on the same tack as they were. In a gale in which no vessel could carry the topsails, the Vrow Katerina being under close-reefed foresails and staysails, the ship seen to leeward was standing under a press of sail topgallant-sail, royals, fly- ing-jib, and every stitch of canvas which could be set in a light breeze. The waves were running mountains high, bear- ing each minute the J'rotv Katerina down to the gunwale ; and the ship seen appeared not to be affected by the tumul- 151 THE PHANTOM SHIP tuous waters, but sailed steadily and smoothly on an even keel. At once Philip knew it must be the Phantom Ship, in which his father's doom was being fulfilled. "Very odd, is it not?" observed Mynheer Barentz. Philip felt such an oppression on his chest that he could not reply. As he held on with one hand, he covered up his eyes with the other. But the seamen had now seen the vessel, and the legend was too well known. Many of the troops had climbed on deck when the report was circulated, and all eyes were now fixed upon the supernatural vessel ; when a heavy squall burst over the Vrow Katcrina, accompanied with peals of -thunder and heavy rain, rendering it so thick that nothing could be seen. In a quarter of an hour it cleared away, and when they looked to leeward the stranger was no longer in sight. " Merciful Heaven ! she must have been upset, and has gone down in the squall," said Mynheer Barentz. " I thought as much, carrying such a press of sail. There never was a ship that could carry more than the J'roiv Katcrina. It was mad- ness on the part of the captain of that vessel ; but I suppose he wished to keep up with us. Heh, Mynheer Vanderdecken ? " Philip did not reply to these remarks, which fully proved the madness of his captain. He felt that his ship was doomed, and when he thought of the numbers on bo ird who might be sacrificed, he shuddered. After a pause he said : "Mynheer Barentz, this gale is likely to continue, and the best ship that ever was built cannot, in my opinion, stand such weather. I should advise that we bear up, and run back to Table Bay to refit. Depend upon it, we shall find the whole fleet there before us." " Never fear for the good ship Vrow Kalcrina," replied the captain; "see what weather she makes of it." " Cursed bad," observed one of the seamen, for the seamen had gathered near to Philip to hear what his advice might be. "If I had known that she was such an old, crazy beast, I never would have trusted myself on board. Mynheer Vanderdecken is right ; we must back to Table Bay ere worse befall us. That ship to leeward has given us warning she is not seen for nothing ask Mr. Vanderdecken, captain ; he knows that well, for he is a sailor." This appeal to Philip made him start ; it was, however, 152 THE PHANTOM SHIP made without any knowledge of Philip's interest in the Phantom Ship. " I must say," replied Philip, " that, whenever I have fallen in with that vessel, mischief has ever followed." " Vessel ! why, what was there in that vessel to frighten you ? She carried too much sail, and she has gone down." " She never goes down," replied one of the seamen. " No, no ! " exclaimed many voices ; " but we shall, if we do not run bark." " Pooh ! nonsense ! Mynheer Vanderdecken, what say you ? " " I have already stated my opinion," replied Philip, who was anxious, if possible, to see the ship once more in port, "that the best thing we can do is to bear up for Table Bay." "And, captain," continued the old seaman who had just spoken, " we are all determined that it shall be so, whether you like it or not; so up with the helm, my hearty, and Mynheer Vanderdecken will trim the sails." " Why ! what is this ? " cried Captain Barents. " A mutiny on board of the Vrow Katerina ? Impossible ! The Vrow Kater'uia ! the best ship, the fastest in the whole fleet ! " "The dullest old rotten tub," cried one of the .seamen. "What ! " cried the captain ; " what do I hear? Mynheer Vanderdecken, confine that lying rascal for mutiny." " Pooh ! nonsense ! he's mad," replied the old seaman. " Never mind him ; come, Mynheer Vanderdecken, we will obey you ; but the helm must be up immediately." The captain stormed, but Philip, by acknowledging the superiority of his vessel, at the same tiree that he blamed the seamen for their panic, pointed out to him ihe necessity of compliance, and Mynheer Barentz at last consented. The heim was put up, the sails trimmed, and the Vrow Kntcniia rolled heavily before the gale. Towards the evening the weather moderated, and the sky cleared up ; both sea and wind subsided fast ; the leaking decreased, and Philip was in hopes that in a day or two they would arrive safely in the Bay. As they steered their course, so did the wind gradually decrease, until at last it fell calm ; nothing remained of the tempest but a long, heavy swell which set to the westward, and before which the Vrow Katerina was gradually drifting. This was a respite to the worn-out seamen, and also to the 153 THE PHANTOM SHIP troops and passengers, who had been cooped below or drenched on the main-deck. The upper deck was crowded ; mothers basked in the warm sun, with their children in their arms ; the rigging was filled with the wet clothes, which were hung up to dry on every part of the shrouds ; and the seamen were busily employed in repairing the injuries of the gale. By their reckoning, they were not more than fifty miles from Table Bay, and each moment they expected to see the land to the southward of it. All was again mirth, and every one on board, except Philip, considered that danger was no more to be apprehended. The second mate, whose name was Krantz, was an active, good seaman, and a great favourite with Philip, who knew that he could trust to him, and it was on the afternoon of this day that he and Philip were walking together on the deck. " What think you, Vanderdecken, of the strange vessel we saw ? " *' I have seen her before, Krantz ; and " And what ? " " Whatever vessel I have been in when I have seen her, that vessel has never returned into port others tell the same tale." " Is she, then, the ghost of a vessel ? " " I am told so ; and there are various stories afloat con- cerning her : but of this I assure you that I am fully per- suaded that some accident will happen before we reach port, although everything at this moment appears so calm, and our port is so near at hand." " You are superstitious," replied Krantz ; " and yet I must say that, to me, the appearance was not like a reality. No vessel could carry such sail in the gale ; but yet there are madmen afloat who will sometimes attempt the most absurd things. If it was a vessel, she must have gone down, for when it cleared up she was not to be seen. I am not very credulous, and nothing but the occurrence of the consequences which you anticipate will make me believe that there was anything supernatural in the affair." " Well ! I shall not be sorry if the event proves me wrong," replied Philip ; " but I have my forebodings we are not in port yet." " No ! but we are but a trifling distance from it, and there is every prospect of r continuance of fine weather." THE PHANTOM SHIP "There is no saying from what quarter the danger may come," replied Philip ; " we have other things to fear than the violence of the gale." "True," replied Krantz; "but, nevertheless, don't let us croak. Notwithstanding all you say, I prophesy that in two days, at the farthest, we are safely anchored in Table Bay." The conversation here dropped, and Philip was glad to be left alone. A melancholy had seized him a depression of spirits even greater than he had ever felt before. He leaned over the gangway and watched the heaving of the sea. " Merciful Heaven ! " ejaculated he, " be pleased to spare this vessel ; let not the wail of women, the shrieks of the poor children, now embarked, be heard ; the numerous body of men trusting to her planks let them not be sacrificed for my father's crimes." And Philip mused. " The ways of Heaven are indeed mysterious," thought he. "Why should others suffer because my father has sinned ? And yet, is it not so everywhere ? How many thousands fall on the field of battle in a war occasioned by the ambition of a king, or the influence of a woman ! How many millions have been destroved for holding a different creed of faith ! He works in His own way, leaving us to wonder and to doubt." The sun had set before Philip had quitted the gangway and gone down below. Commending himself, and those em- barked with him, to the care of Providence, he at last fell asleep ; but before the bell was struck eight times, to announce midnight, he was awakened by a rude shove of the shoulder, and perceived Krantz, who had the first watch, standing close beside him. " By the Heaven above us, Vanderdecken, you have pro- phesied right ! Up quick ! The ship's on^fire ! " "On fire!" exclaimed Vanderdecken, jumping out of his berth "where?" " The main-hold." " I will up immediately, Krantz. In the meantime, keep the hatches on and rig the pumps." In less than a minute Philip was on deck, where he found Captain Barentz, who had also been informed of the case by the second mate. In a few words all was explained by Krantz : there was a strong smell of fire proceeding from the main-hold ; and on removing one of the hatches, which he 155 THE PHANTOM SHIP had done without calling for any assistance, from a knowledge of the panic it would create, he found that the hold was full of smoke ; he had put it on again immediately, and had only made it known to Philip and the captain. "Thanks for your presence of mind," replied Philip ; "we have now time to reflect quietly on what is to be done. If the troops and the poor women and children knew their danger, their alarm would have much impeded us : but how could she have taken fire in the main-hold ? " " I never heard of the Vrorv Katerina taking fire before," observed the captain ; " I think it is impossible. It must be some mistake she is " " I now recollect that we have in our cargo several cases of vitriol in bottles," interrupted Philip. " In the gale they must have been disturbed and broken. I kept them above all, in case of accident: this rolling gunwale under for so long a time must have occasioned one of them to fetch way." "That's it, depend upon it," observed Krantz. " I did object to receive them, stating that they ought to go out in some vessel which was not so encumbered with troops, so that they might remain on the main-deck ; but they replied that the invoices were made out and could not be altered. But now to act. My idea is, to keep the hatches on, so as to smother it if possible." "Yes," replied Krantz ; "and at the same time cut a hole in the deck just large enough to admit the hose, and pump as much water as we can down into the hold." " You are right, Krantz ; send for the carpenter, and set him to work. I will turn the hands up, and speak to the men. I smell the fire now very strong ; there is no time to lose. If we can only keep the troops and the women quiet we may do something." The hands were turned up, and soon made their appear- ance on deck, wondering why they were summoned. The men had not perceived the state of the vessel, for, the hatches having been kept on, the little smoke that issued ascended the hatchway, and did not fill the lower deck. a My lads," said Philip, " I am sorry to say that we "have reason to suspect that there is some danger of fire in the main-hold." " I smell it ! " cried one of the seamen, 156 THE PHANTOM SHIP " So do I," cried several others, with every show of alarm, and moving away as if to go below. " Silence, and remain where you are, my men. Listen to what I say : if you frighten the troops and passengers, we shall do nothing ; we must trust to ourselves ; there is no time to be lost. Mr. Krantz and the carpenter are doing all that can be done at present ; and now, my men, do me the favour to sit down on the deck, every one of you, while I tell you what we must do." This order of Philip's was obeyed, and the effect was excel-' lent : it gave the men time to compose themselves after the first shock ; for, perhaps, of all shocks to the human frame, there is none which creates a greater panic than the first intimation of fire on board of a vessel a situation, indeed, pitiable, when it is considered that you have to choose be- tween the two elements seeking your destruction. Philip did not speak for a minute or two. He then pointed out to the men the danger of their situation, what were the measures which he and Krantz had decided upon taking, and how necessary it was that all should be cool and collected. He also reminded them that they had but little powder in the magazine, which was far from the site of the fire, and could easily be removed and thrown overboard ; and that, if the fire could not be extinguished, they had a quantity of spars on deck to form a raft, which, with the boats, would re- ceive all on board, and that they were but a short distance from land. Philip's address had the most beneficial effects; the men rose up when he ordered them ; one portion went down to the magazine, and handed up the powder, which was passed along and thrown overboard ; another went to the pumps ; and Krantz, coming up, reported the hole to have been cut in the planking of the deck above the main-hold : the hose was fixed, and a quantity of water soon poured down, but it was impossible that the danger could be kept secret. The troops were sleeping on the deck, and the very employment of the seamen pointed out what had occurred, even if the smoke, which now increased very much, and filled the lower-deck, had not betrayed it. In a few minutes the alarm of Fire ! was heard throughout the vessel, and men, women, and children were seen, some hurrying on their clothes, some 157 THE PHANTOM SHIP running frightened about the decks, some shrieking, some praying; and the confusion and terror were hardly to be described. The judicious conduct of Philip was then made evident ; had the sailors been awakened by the appalling cry, they would have been equally incapable of acting as were the troops and passengers. All subordination would have ceased : some would have seized the boats, and left the majority to perish ; others would have hastened to the spirit-room, and by their drunkenness added to the confusion and horror of the scene ; nothing would have been effected, and almost all would in all probability have perished miserably. But this had been pre- vented by the presence of mind shown by Philip and the second mate, for the captain was a cipher ; not wanting in courage, certainly, but without conduct or a knowledge of his profession. The seamen continued steady to their duty, pushing the soldiers out of the way as they performed their allotted tasks ; and Philip perceiving this went down below, leaving Krantz in charge ; and by reasoning with the most collected, by degrees he brought the majority of the troops to a state of comparative coolness. The powder had been thrown overboard, and another hole having been cut in the deck on the other side, the other pump was rigged, and double the quantity of water poured into the hold ; but it was evident to Philip that the combustion in- creased. The smoke and steam now burst through the inter- stices of the hatchways and the holes cut in the deck, with a violence that proved the extent of the fire which raged below, and Philip thought it advisable to remove all the women and children to the poop and quarter-deck of the ship, desiring the husbands of the women to stay with them. It was a melan- choly sight, and the tears stood in Philip's eyes as he looked upon the group of females some weeping and straining their children to their bosoms ; some more quiet and more collected than the men: the elder children mute, or crying because their mothers cried, and the younger ones, unconscious of danger, playing with the first object which attracted their attention, or smiling at their parents. The officers commanding the troops were two ensigns newly entered, and very young men, ignorant of their duty and without any authority for men in cases of extreme danger will not obey those who are more ignorant 158 THE PHANTOM SHIP than themselves and, at Philip's request, they remained with and superintended the women and children. So soon as Philip had given his orders that the women and children should be properly clothed (which many of them were not) he went again forward to superintend the labour of the seamen, who already began to show symptoms of fatigue from the excess of their exertions ; but many of the soldiers now offered to work at the pumps, and their services were willingly accepted. Their efforts were in vain. In about half-an-hour more the hatches were blown up with a loud noise, and a column of intense and searching flame darted up perpendicularly from the hold, high as the lower mast- head. Then was heard the loud shriek of the women, who pressed their children in agony to their breasts, as the sea- men and soldiers who had been working the pumps, in their precipitate retreat from the scorching flames, rushed aft, and fell among the huddled crowd. " Be steady, my lads steady, my good fellows/' exclaimed Philip; "there is no danger yet. Recollect we have our boats and raft, and although we cannot subdue the fire, and save the vessel, still we may, if you are cool and collected, not only save ourselves, but every one even the poor infants, who now appeal to you as men to exert yourselves in their behalf. Come, come, my lads, let us do our duty we have the means of escape in our power if we lose no time. Carpenter, get your axes, and cut away the boom-lashings. Now, my men, let us get our boats out, and make a raft for these poor women and children ; we are not ten miles from the land. Krantz, see to the boats with the starboard watch : larboard watch with me, to launch over the booms. Gunners, take any of the cordage you can, ready for lashing. Come, my lads, there is no want of light we can work without lanterns." The men obeyed : as Philip, to encourage them, had almost jocularly remarked (for a joke is often well-timed, when ap- parently on the threshold of eternity), there was no want of light. The column of fire now ascended above the main-top licking with its forky tongue the top-mast rigging and embracing the mainmast in its folds ; and the loud roar with which it ascended proved the violence and rapidity of the combustion below, and how little time there was to be lost. 159 THE PHANTOM SHIP The lower and main decks were now so filled with smoke that no one could remain there : some few poor fellows, sick in their cots, had long been smothered, for they had been for- gotten. The swell had much subsided, and there was not a breath of wind : the smoke which rose from the hatchways ascended straight up in the air, which, as the vessel had lost all steerage way, was fortunate. The boats were soon in the water, and trusty men placed in them : the spars were launched over, arranged by the men in the boats, and lashed together. All the gratings were then collected, and firmly fixed upon the spars for the people to sit upon ; and Philip's heart was glad at the prospect which he now had of saving the numbers which were embarked. CHAPTER XVII _t)UT their difficulties were not surmounted the fire now had communicated to the main-deck, and burst out of the port-holes amidships and the raft which had been forming alongside was obliged to be drifted astern, where it was more exposed to the swell. This retarded their labour, and in the meantime the fire was making rapid progress ; the mainmast, which had long been burning, fell over the sides with the lurching of the vessel, and the flames out of the main-deck ports soon showed their points above the bulwarks, while volumes of smoke were poured in upon the upper deck, almost suffocating the numbers which were crowded there ; for all communication with the fore-part of the ship had been for some time cut off by the flames, and every one had retreated aft. The women and children were now carried on to the poop ; not only to remove them farther from the suffocating smoke, but that they might be lowered down to the raft from the stern. It was about four o'clock in the morning when all was ready, and by the exertions of Philip and the seamen, not- withstanding the swell, the women and children were safely placed on the raft, where it was considered that they would be less in the way, as the men could relieve each other in pulling when they were tired. 160 THE PHANTOM SHIP After the women and children had been lowered down, the troops were next ordered to descend by the ladders ; some few were lost in the attempt, falling under the boat's bottom and not reappearing ; but two-thirds of the men were safely put in the berths they were ordered to take by Krantz, who had gone down to superintend this important arrangement. Such had been the vigilance of Philip, who had requested Captain Barentz to stand over the spirit-room hatch, with pistols, until the smoke on the main-deck rendered the precaution un- necessary, that not a single person was intoxicated, and to this might be ascribed the order and regularity which had prevailed during this trying scene. But before one-third of the soldiers had descended by the stern ladder, the fire burst out of the stern windows with a violence that nothing could withstand ; spouts of vivid flame extended several feet from the vessel, roaring with the force of a blowpipe ; at the same time the flames burst through all the after-ports of the main- deck, and those remaining on board found themselves en- circled with fire, and suffocated with smoke and heat. The stern ladders were consumed in a minute, and dropped into the sea ; the boats which had been receiving the men were obliged also to back astern from the intense heat of the flames ; even those on the raft shrieked as they found them- selves scorched by the ignited fragments which fell on them as they were enveloped in an opaque cloud of smoke, which hid from them those who still remained on the deck of the vessel. Philip attempted to speak to those on board, but he was not heard. A scene of confusion took place, which ended in great loss of life. The only object appeared to be who should first escape ; though, except by jumping overboard, there was no escape. Had they waited, and (as Philip would have pointed out to them), one by one, thrown themselves into the sea, the men in the boats were fully prepared to pick them up; or had they climbed out to the end of the lateen mizzen-yard, which was lowered down, they might have descended safely by a rope, but the scorching of the flames which surrounded them and the suffocation from the smoke were overpowering, and most of the soldiers sprang over the taffrail at once, or as nearly so as possible. The consequence was that there were thirty or forty in the water at the same time, and the scene was as heart-rending as it was appalling ; 161 L THE PHANTOM SHIP the sailors in the boats dragging them in as fast as 'they could the women on the raft throwing to them loose garments to haul them in ; at one time a wife shrieking as she saw her husband struggling and sinking into eternity ; at another, curses and execrations from the swimmer who was grappled with by the drowning man, and dragged with him under the surface. Of eighty men who were left of the troops on board at the time of the bursting out of the flames from the stern windows, but twenty-five were saved. There were but few seamen left on board with Philip, the major part having been employed in making the raft or manning the three boats ; those who were on board remained by his side, regulating their motions by his. After allowing full time for the soldiers to be picked up, Philip ordered the men to climb out to the end of the lateen yard which hung on the taffrail, and either to lower themselves down on the raft, if it was under, or to give notice to the boats to receive them. The raft had been dropped farther astern by the seamen, that those on board of it might not suffer from the smoke and heat ; and the sailors, one after another, lowered themselves down and were received by the boats. Philip desired Captain Barentz to go before him, but the captain refused. He was too much choked with smoke to say why, but no doubt but that it would have been something in praise of the Vrow Katerina. Philip then climbed out ; he was followed by the captain, and they were both received into one of the boats. The rope which had hitherto held the raft to the ship was now cast off, and it was taken in by the boats ; and in a short time the Vrow Katerina was borne to leeward of them ; and Philip and Krantz now made arrangements for the better disposal of the people. The sailors were almost all put into boats, that they might relieve one another in pulling; the remainder were placed on the raft, along with the soldiers, the women, and the children. Notwithstanding that the boats were all as much loaded as they could well bear, the numbers on the raft were so great that it sank nearly a foot under water when the swell of the sea poured upon it ; but stanchions and ropes to support those on board had been fixed, and the men remained at the sides, while the women and children were crowded together in the middle. As soon as these arrangements were made, the boats took 162 THE PHANTOM SHIP the raft in tow, and just as the dawn of day appeared, pulled in the direction of the land. The Vrow Katerina was, by this time, one volume of flame ; she had drifted about half a mile to leeward, and Captain Barentz, who was watching her as he sat in the boat with Philip, exclaimed : " Well, there goes a lovely ship, a ship that could do everything but speak I'm sure that not a ship in the fleet would have made such a bonfire as she has does she not bum beautifully nobly ? My poor Vruw Katerina ! perfect to the last, we never shall see such a ship as you again ! Well, I'm glad my father did not live to see this sight, for it would have broken his heart, poor man." Philip made no reply ; he felt a respect even for Captain Barentz's misplaced regard for the vessel. They made but little way, for the swell was rather against them, and the raft was deep in the water. The day dawned, and the appearance of the weather was not favourable ; it promised the return of the gale. Already a breeze ruffled the surface of the water, and the swell appeared to increase rather than go down. The sky was overcast and the horizon thick. Philip looked out for the land, but could not perceive it, for there was a haze on the horizon, so that he could not see more than five miles. He felt that to gain the shore before the coming night was neces- sary for the preservation of so many individuals, of whom more than sixty were women and children, who, without any nourish- ment, were sitting on a frail raft immersed in the water. No land in sight a gale coming on, and in all probability a heavy sea, and dark night. The chance was indeed desperate, and Philip was miserable most miserable when he reflected that so many innocent beings might, before the next morning, be consigned to a watery tomb, and why ? yes, there was the feeling that, although Philip could reason against, he never could conquer; for his own life he cared nothing even the idea of his beloved Amine was nothing in the balance at these moments. The only point which sustained him was the knowledge that he had his duty to perform, and, in the full exercise of his duty, he recovered himself. " Land ahead ! " was now cried out by Krantz, who was in the headmost boat, and the news was received with a shout of joy from the raft and the boats. The anticipation and the hope the news gave was like manna in the wilderness ; and the 1C3 THE PHANTOM SHIP poor women on the raft, drenched sometimes above the waist by the swell of the sea, clasped the children in their arms still closer, and cried, " My darling, you shall be saved." Philip stood upon the stern-sheets to survey the land, and he had the satisfaction of finding that it was not five miles distant, and a ray of hope warmed his heart. The breeze now had gradually increased, and rippled the water. The quarter from which the wind came was neither favourable nor adverse, being on the beam. Had they had sails for the boats, it would have been otherwise ; but they had been stowed away, and could not be procured. The sight of land naturally rejoiced them all, and the seamen in the boats cheered, and double-banked the oars to increase their way ; but the towing of a large raft sunk under water was no easy task ; and they did not, with all their exertions, advance more than half a mile an hour. Until noon they continued their exertions, not without suc- cess ; they were not three miles from the land ; but, as the sun passed the meridian, a change took place ; the breeze blew strong ; the swell of the sea rose rapidly ; and the raft was often so deeply immersed in the waves as to alarm them for the safety of those upon her. Their way was proportionally retarded, and by three o'clock they had not gained half a mile from where they had been at noon. The men not having had refreshment of any kind during the labour and excitement of so many hours, began to flag in their exertions. The wish for water was expressed by all from the child who appealed to its mother, to the seaman who strained at the oar. Philip did all he could to encourage the men ; but finding themselves so ne;ir to the land, and so overcome with fatigue, and that the raft in tow would not allow them to approach their haven, they murmured, and talked of the necessity of casting loose the raft and looking out for themselves. A feeling of self prevailed, and they were mutinous ; but Philip expostulated with them, and out of respect for him, they continued their exertions for another hour, when a circumstance occurred which decided the question upon which they had recom- menced a debate. The increased swell ami the fresh breeze had so beat about and tossed the raft, that it was with difficulty, for some time, that its occupants could hold themselves on it. A loud shout, 164 THE PHANTOM SHIP mingled with screams, attracted the attention of those in the boats, and Philip, looking back, perceived that the lashings of the raft had yielded to the force of the M r aves, and that it had separated amidships. The scene was agonising; husbands were separated from their wives and children each floating away from each other for the part of the raft which was still towed by the boats had already left the other far astern. The women rose up and screamed, and held up their children; some, more frantic, dashed into the water between them, and attempted to gain the floating wreck upon which their husbands stood, and sank before they could be assisted. But the horror increased one lashing having given way, all the rest soon followed ; and before the boats could turn and give assistance, the sea was strewed with the spars which composed the raft, with men, women, and children clinging to them. Loud were the yells of despair, and the shrieks of the women, as they embraced their offspring, and in attempting to save them were lost them- selves. The spars of the raft still close together Mere hurled one upon the other by the swell, and many found death by being jammed between them. Although all the boats hastened to their assistance, there was so much difficulty and danger in forcing them between the spars, that but few were saved, and even those few were more than the boats could well take in. The seamen and a few soldiers were picked up, but all the females and the children had sunk beneath the waves. The effect of this catastrophe may be imagined, but hardly described. The seamen who had debated as to casting them adrift to perish, wept as they pulled towards the shore. Philip was overcome ; he covered his face, and remained for some time without giving directions, and heedless of what passed. It was now five o'clock in the evening ; the boats had cast off the tow-lines, and vied with each other in their exertions. Before the sun had set they all had arrived at the beach, and were safely landed in the little sand bay into which they had steered ; for the wind was off the shore and there was no surf. The boats were hauled up, and the exhausted men lay down on the sands, still warm with the heat of the sun, and forgetting that they had neither eaten nor drunk for so long a time, they were soon fast asleep. Captain Barentz, Philip, and Krantz, as soon as they had seen the boats secured, held a short con- sultation, and were then glad to follow the example of the 165 THE PHANTOM SHIP seamen ; harassed and worn out with the fatigue of the last twenty-four hours, their senses were soon drowned in oblivion. For many hours they all slept soundly, dreamt of water, and awoke to the sad reality that they were tormented with thirst, and were on a sandy beach with the salt waves mocking them; but they reflected how many of their late companions had been swallowed up, and felt thankful that they had been spared. It was early dawn when they all rose from the forms which they had impressed on the yielding sand ; and by the directions of Philip they separated in every direction, to look for the means of quenching their agony of thirst. As they proceeded over the sandhills, they found growing in the sand a low spongy-leaf sort of shrub, something like what in our greenhouses is termed the ice-plant; the thick leaves of which were covered with large drops of dew. They sank down on their knees, and proceeded from one to the other, licking off the moisture, which was abundant, and soon felt a temporary relief. They continued their search till noon without' success, and hunger was now added to their thirst ; they then returned to the beach to ascertain if their companions had been more successful. They had also quenched their thirst with the dew of heaven, but had found no water or means of subsistence; but some of them had eaten the leaves of the plant which had contained the dew in the morning, and had found them, although acid, full of watery sap and grateful to the palate. The plant in question is the one provided by bounteous Providence for the support of the camel and other beasts in the arid desert, only to be found there, and devoured by all ruminating animals with avidity. By the advice of Philip they collected a quantity of this plant and put it into the boats, and then launched. They were not more than fifty miles from Table Bay ; and although they had no sails, the wind v/as in their favour. Philip pointed out to them how useless it was to remain, when before morning they would, in all probability, arrive at where they would obtain all they required. The advice was approved of and acted upon ; the boats were shoved off and the oars dipped mechanically into the water, for there was no strength left to be applied ; it was not until the next morning at daylight that they had arrived opposite False Bay, and they had still many miles to pull. The wind in their favour had done almost all the men could do little or nothing. THE PHANTOM SHIP Encouraged, however, by the sight of land which they knew, they rallied ; and at about noon they pulled, exhausted, to the beach at the bottom of Table Bay, near to which were the houses, and the fort protecting the settlers, who had for some few years resided there. They landed close to where a broad rivulet at that season (but a torrent in the winter) poured its stream into the bay. At the sight of fresh water some of the men dropped their oars, threw themselves into the sea when out of their depth others when the water was above their waists yet they did not arrive so soon as those who waited till the boat struck the beach, and jumped out upon dry land. And then they threw themselves into the rivulet, which coursed over the shingle, about five or six inches in depth, allowing the refreshing stream to pour into their mouths till they could receive no more, immersing their hot hands, and rolling in it with delight. Despots and fanatics have exerted their ingenuity to invent torments for their victims how useless! The rack, the boot, fire all that they have imagined are not to be compared to the torture of extreme thirst. In the extremity of agony the sufferers cry for water, and it is not refused : they might have spared themselves their refined ingenuity of torment, and the disgusting exhibition of it, had they only confined the prisoner in his cell, and refused him water. As soon as they had satisfied the roost pressing of all wants, they rose dripping from the stream, and walked up to the houses of the factory ; the inhabitants of which, perceiving that boats had la.ided when there was no vessel in the bay, naturally concluded that some disaster had happened, and were walking down to meet them. Their tragical history was soon told. The thirty-six men that stood before them were all that were left of nearly three hundred souls embarked, and they had been more than two days without food. At this intimation no further questions were asked by the con- siderate ^settlers until the hunger of the sufferers had been appeased, when the narrative of their sufferings was fully detailed by Philip and Krantz. " I have an idea that I have seen you before," observed one of the settlers. " Did you come on shore when the fleet anchored ? " "I did not," replied Philip : "but I have been here." 167 THE PHANTOM SHIP " I recollect now," replied the man ; " you were the only survivor of the Ter Schilling, which was lost in False Bay." " Not the only survivor," replied Philip ; " I thought so myself; but I afterwards met the pilot, a one-eyed man, of the name of Schriften, who was my shipmate : he must have arrived here after me. You saw him, of course ? " "No, I did not. No one belonging to the Ter Schilling ever came here after you : for I have been a settler here ever since, and it is not likely that I should forget such a circumstance." " He must, then, have returned to Holland by some other means." " I know not how. Our ships never go near the coast after they leave the bay ; it is too dangerous." " Nevertheless, I saw him," replied Philip, musing. " If you saw him, that is sufficient ; perhaps some vessel had been blown down to the eastern side, and picked him up ; but the natives in that part are not likely to have spared tlie life of a European. The Caffres are a cruel people." The information that Schriften had not been seen at the Cape was a subject of meditation to Philip. He had always an idea, as the reader knows, that there was something supernatural about the man ; and this opinion was corro- borated by the report of the settler. We must pass over the space of two months, during which the wrecked seamen were treated with kindness by the settlers, and at the expiration of which a small brig arrived at the bay, and took in refreshments : she was homeward bound, with a full cargo, and being chartered by the Company, could not refuse to receive on board the crew of the Vrow Katcrina. Philip, Krantz, and the seamen embarked : but Captain Barents remained behind to settle at the Cape. "Should I go home," said he to Philip, who argued with him, " I have nothing in this world to return for. I have no wife no children. I had but one dear object, my From Kalerina, who was my wife, my child, my everything ; she is gone, and I never shall find another vessel like her ; and if I could, I should not love it as I did her. No, my affections are buried with her are entombed in the deep sea. How beautifully she burned! she went out of the world like a phoenix, as she was. No, no! I will be faithful to her I 163 THE PHANTOM SHIP will send for what little money I have, and live as near to her tomb as I can I never shall forget her as long as I live. I shall mourn over her, and ' Vrow Katerina/ when I die, will be found engraven on my heart." Philip could not help wishing that his affections had been fixed upon a more deserving object, as then, probably, the tragical loss had not taken place ; but he changed the subject, feeling that, being no sailor, Captain Barentz was much better on shore than in the command of a vessel. They shook hands and parted Philip promising to execute Barentz 's commis- sion, which was to turn his money into articles most useful to a settler, and have them sent out by the first fleet which should sail from the Zuyder Zee. But this commission it was not Philip's good fortune to execute. The brig, named the Wilhelmina, sailed, and soon arrived at St. Helena. After watering, she proceeded on her voyage. They had made the Western Isles, and Philip was consoling himself with the anticipation of soon joining his Amine, when, to the north- ward of the islands, they met with a furious gale, before which they were obliged to scud for many days, with the vessel's head to the south-east ; and as the wind abated, and they were able to haul to it, they fell in with a Dutch fleet of five vessels, commanded by an admiral, which had left Amsterdam more than two months, and had been buffeted about by con- trary gales for the major part of that period. Cold, fatigue, and bad provisions had brought on the scurvy ; and the ships were so weakly manned that they could hardly navigate them. When the captain of the Wilhelmina reported to the admiral that he had part of the crew of the Vrow Katerina on board, he was ordered to send them immediately to assist in navigating his crippled fleet. Remonstrance was useless. Philip had but time to write to Amine, acquainting her with his misfortunes and disappointment ; and, confiding the letter for his wife, as well as his narrative of the loss of the Vrow Katcriiia for the Directors, to the charge of the captain of the Wilhelmina, he hastened to pack up his effects, and repaired on board of the admiral's ship with Krantz and the crew. To them were added six of the men belonging to the Wilhelmina, whom the admiral insisted on retaining; and the brig, having received the admiral's despatches, was then permitted to continue her voyage. 169 THE PHANTOM SHIP Perhaps there is nothing more trying to seamen's feel- ings than being unexpectedly forced to recommence another series of trials, at the very time when they anticipate repose from their former; yet how often does this happen! Philip was melancholy. " It is my destiny," thought he, using the words of Amine, "and why should I not submit?" Krantz was furious, and the seamen discontented and mutinous ; but it was useless. Might is right on the vast ocean, where there is no appeal no trial or injunction to be obtained. But hard as their case appeared to them, the admiral was fully justified in his proceeding. His ships were almost un- manageable with the few hands who could still perform their duty ; and this small increase of physical power might be the means of saving hundreds who lay helpless in their hammocks. In his own vessel, the Lion, which was manned with two hundred and fifty men when she sailed from Amsterdam, there were not more than seventy capable of doing duty ; and the other ships had suffered in proportion. The first captain of the Lion was dead, the second captain in his hammock, and the admiral had no one to assist him but the mates of the vessel, some of whom crawled up to their duty more dead than alive. The ship of the second in command, the Dort, was even in a more deplorable plight. The commo- dore was dead ; the first captain was still doing his duty ; but he had but one more officer capable of remaining on deck. The admiral sent for Philip into his cabin, and having heard his narrative of the loss of the f'nnr Katcrina, he ordered him to go on board the commodore's ship as captain, giving the rank of commodore to the captain at present on board of her ; Krantz was retained on board his own vessel, as second cap- tain ; for, by Philip's narrative, the admiral perceived at once that they were both good officers and brave men. CHAPTER XVIII JL HE fleet under Admiral Rymelandt's command was ordered to proceed to the East Indies by the western route, through the Straits of Magellan into the Pacific Ocean it being still imagined, notwithstanding previous failures, that this route 170 THE PHANTOM SHI? offered facilities which might shorten the passage of the Spice Islands. The vessels composing the fleet were the Lion, of forty- four guns, bearing the admiral's flag ; the Dort, of thirty-six guns, with the commodore's pennant to which Philip was appointed ; the Zuyder Zee, of twenty ; the Young Frau, of twelve ; and a ketch of four guns, called the Scheme I ling. The crew of the Vrow Katerina were divided between the two larger vessels ; the others being smaller, were easier worked with fewer hands. Every arrangement having been made, the boats were hoisted up, and the ships made sail For ten days they were baffled by light winds, and the victims to the scurvy increased considerably on board of Philip's vessel. Many died and were thrown overboard, and others were carried down to their hammocks. The newly-appointed commodore, whose name was Aven- horn, went on board of the admiral, to report the state of the vessel, and to suggest, as Philip had proposed to him, that they should make the coast of South America, and endeavour by bribery or by force to obtain supplies either from the Spanish inhabitants or the natives. But to this the admiral would not listen. He was an imperious, bold, and obstinate man,, not to be persuaded or convinced, and with little feeling for the sufferings of others. Tenacious of being advised, he imme- diately rejected a proposition which, had it originated with himself, would probably have been immediately acted upon ; and the commodore returned on board his vessel, not only disappointed, but irritated by the language used towards him. "What are we to do, Giptain Vanderdecken ? You know too well our situation it is impossible we can continue long at sea ; if we do, the vessel will be drifting at the mercy of the waves, while the crew die a wretched death in their hammocks. At present we have forty men left ; in ten days more we shall probably have but twenty ; for as the labour becomes more severe, so do they drop down the faster. Is it not better to risk our lives in combat with the Spaniards, than die here like rotten sheep?" " I perfectly agree with you, commodore," replied Philip ; "but still we must obey orders. The admiral is an inflexible man." " And a cruel one. I have a great mind to part company 171 THE PHANTOM SHIP in the night, and if he finds fault, I will justify myself to the Directors on my return." " Do nothing rashly perhaps, when day by day he finds his own ship's company more weakened, he will see the necessity of following your advice." A week had passed away after this conversation, and the fleet had made little progress. In each ship the ravages of the fatal disease became more serious, and, as the commodore had predicted, he had but twenty men really able to do duty. Nor had the admiral's ship and the other vessels suffered less. The commodore again went on board to reiterate his proposition. Admiral Rymelandt was not only a stern, but a vindictive man. He was aware of the propriety of the suggestion made by his second in command, but having refused it, he would not acquiesce ; and he felt revengeful against the commodore, whose counsel he must either adopt, or by refusing it be prevented from taking the steps so necessary for the pre- servation of his crew, and the success of his voyage. Too proud to acknowledge himself in error, again did he decidedly refuse, and the commodore went back to his own ship. The fleet was then within three days of the coast, steering to the southward for the Straits of Magellan, and that night, after Philip had retired to his cot, the commodore went on deck and ordered the course of the vessel to be altered some points more to the westward. The night was very dark, and the Lion was the only ship which carried a poop-lantern, so that the parting company of the Dort was not perceived by the admiral and the other ships of the fleet. When Philip went on deck next morning, he found that their consorts were not jn sight. He looked at the compass, and perceiving that the course was altered, inquired at what hour and by whose directions. Finding that it was by his superior officer, he of course said nothing. When the commodore came on deck, he stated to Philip that he felt himself warranted in not com- plying with the admiral's orders, as it would have been sacrific- ing the whole ship's company. This was, indeed, true. In two days they made the land, and running into the shore, perceived a large town and Spaniards on the beach. They anchored at the mouth of the river, and hoisted English colours, when a boat came on board to ask them who they THE PHANTOM SHIP were, and what they required ? The commodore replied that the vessel was English, for he knew that the hatred of the Spanish to the Dutch was so great that, if known to belong to that nation, he would have had no chance of procuring any supplies, except by force. He stated that he had fallen in with a Spanish vessel, a complete wreck, from the whole of the crew being afflicted with the scurvy ; that he had taken the men out, who were now in their hammocks below, as he considered it cruel to leave so many of his fellow- creatures to perish, and that he had come out of his course to land them at the first Spanish fort he could reach. He requested that they would immediately send on board vege- tables and fresh provisions for the sick men, whom it would be death to remove until after a few days, when they would be a little restored ; and added, that in return for their assist- ing the Spaniards, he trusted the governor would also send supplies for his own people. This well-made-up story was confirmed by the officer sent on board by the Spanish governor. Being requested to go down below and see the patients, the sight of so many poor fellows in the last stage of that horrid disease their teeth fallen out, gums ulcerated, bodies full of tumours and sores was quite sufficient ; and hurrying up from the lower deck, as he would have done from a charnel-house, the officer hastened on shore and made his report. In two hours a large boat was sent off with fresh beef and Vegetables sufficient for three days' supply for the ship's com- pany, and these were immediately distributed among the men. A letter of thanks was returned by the commodore, stating that his health was so indifferent as to prevent his coming on shore in person to thank the governor, and for- warding a pretended list of the Spaniards on board, in which he mentioned some officers and people of distinction, whom he imagined might be connected with the family of the governor, whose name and titles he had received from the messenger sent on board ; for the Dutch knew full well the majority of the noble Spanish families indeed, alliances had continually taken place between them, previous to their assertion of their independence. The commodore concluded his letter by expressing a hope that, in a day or two, he should be able to pay his respects, and make arrangements 173 THE PHANTOM SHIP for the landing of the sick, as he was anxious to proceed on his voyage of discovery. On the third day, a fresh supply of provisions was sent on board, and so soon as they were received, the commodore, in an English uniform, went on shore and called upon the governor, gave a long detail of the sufferings of the people he had rescued, and agreed that they should be sent on shore in two days, and they would by that time be well enough to be moved. After many compliments, he went on board, the governor having stated his intention to return his visit on the following day, if the weather were not too rough. Fortu- nately, the weather was rough for the next two days, and it was not until the third that the governor made his appear- ance. This was precisely what the commodore wished. There is no disease, perhaps, so dreadful or so rapid in its effects upon the human frame, and at the same time so instan- taneously checked, as the scurvy, if the remedy can be pro- cured. A few days were sufficient to restore those who were not able to turn in their hammocks, to their former vigour. In the course of the six days nearly all the crew of the Dort were convalescent and able to go on deck ; but still they were not cured. The commodore waited for the arrival of the governor, received him with all due honours, and then, so soon as he was in the cabin, told him very politely that he and all his officers with him were prisoners. That the vessel was a Dutch man- of-war, and that it was his own people, and not Spaniards, who had been dying of the scurvy. He consoled him, however, by pointing out that he had thought it preferable to obtain pro- visions by this ruse, than to sacrifice lives on both sides by taking them by force, and that his Excellency's captivity would endure no longer than until he had received on board a sufficient number of live bullocks and fresh vegetables to insure the recovery of the ship's company ; and, in the meantime, not the least insult would be offered to him. Whereupon the Spanish governor first looked at the commodore and then at the file of armed men at the cabin-door, and then to his distance from the town ; and then called to mind the possibility of his being taken out to sea. Weighing all these points in his mind, and the very moderate ransom demanded (for bullocks were not worth a dollar apiece in that country), he resolved, as he could not help himself, to comply with the commodore's terms. 174 THE PHANTOM SHIP He called for pen and ink, and wrote an order to send on board immediately all that was demanded. Before sunset the bullocks and vegetables were brought off, and, so soon as they were alongside, the commodore, with many bows and many thanks, escorted the governor to the gangway, complimenting him with a salvo of great guns, as he had done before, on his arrival. The people on shore thought that his Excellency had paid a long visit, but, as he did not like to acknowledge that he had been deceived, nothing was said about it, at least in his hearing, although the facts were soon well known. As soon as the boats were cleared, the commodore weighed anchor and made sail, well satisfied with having preserved his ship's company, and as the Falkland Islands, in case of parting company, had been named as the rendezvous, he steered for them. In a fortnight he arrived, and found that his admiral was not yet there. His crew were now all recovered, and his fresh beef was not yet expended, when he perceived the admiral and the three other vessels in the offing. It appeared that so soon as the Dort had parted company, the admiral had immediately acted upon the advice that the commodore had given him, and had run for the coast. Not being so fortunate in a ruse as his second in command, he had landed an armed force from the four vessels, and had succeeded in obtaining several head of cattle, at the expense of an equal number of men killed and wounded. But at the same time they had collected a large quantity of vegetables of one sort or another, which they had carried on board and distributed with great success to the sick, who were gradually recovering. Immediately that the admiral had anchored, he made the signal for the commodore to repair on board, and taxed him with disobedience of orders in having left the fleet. The commodore did not deny that he had so done, but excused himself upon the plea of necessity, offering to lay the whole matter before the Court of Directors so soon as they returned ; but the admiral was vested with most extensive powers, not only of the trial, but the condemnation and punishment of any person guilty of mutiny and insubordination in his fleet. In reply, he told the commodore that he was a prisoner, and to prove it, he confined him in irons under the half-deck. A signal was then made for all the captains : they went on board, and of course Philip was of the number. On their 175 THE PHANTOM SHIP arrival, the admiral held a summary court-martial, proving to them by his instructions that he was warranted so to do. The result of the court-martial could be but one condemnation for a breach of discipline, to which Philip was obliged reluctantly to sign his name. The admiral then gave Philip the appoint- ment of second in command, and the commodore's pennant, much to the annoyance of the captains commanding the other vessels; but in this the admiral proved his judgment, as there was no one of them so fit for the task as Philip. Having so done, he dismissed them. Philip would have spoken to the late commodore, but the sentry opposed it, as against his orders ; and with a friendly nod, Philip was obliged to leave him without a desired communication. The fleet remained three weeks at the Falkland Islands, to recruit the ships' companies. Although there was no fresh beef, there was plenty of scurvy-grass and penguins. These birds were in myriads on some parts of the island, which, from the propinquity of their nests, built of mud, went by the name of tonms. There they sat, close together (the whole areq which they covered being bare of grass), hatching their eggs and rearing their young. The men had but to select as many eggs and birds as they pleased, and so numerous were they that when they had supplied themselves, there was no ap- parent diminution of the numbers. This food, although in a short time not very palatable to the seamen, had the effect of restoring them to health, and before the fleet sailed there was not a man who was afflicted with the scurvy. In the meantime the commodore remained in irons, and many were the conjec- tures concerning his ultimate fate. The power of life and death was known to be in the admiral's hands, but no one thought that such power would be exerted upon a delinquent of so high a grade. The other captains kept aloof from Philip, and he knew little of what was the general idea. Occasionally when on board of the admiral's ship, he ventured to bring up the question, but was immediately silenced ; and feeling that he might injure the late commodore (for whom he had a regard), he would risk nothing by importunity ; and the fleet sailed for the Straits of Magellan, without anybody being aware of what might be the result of the court-martial. It was about a fortnight after they had left the Falkland Islands that they entered the Straits. At first they had a 176 THE PHANTOM SHIP leading wind, which carried them half through, but this did not last, and they then had to contend not only against the wind, but against the current, and they daily lost ground. The crews of the ships also began to sicken from fatigue and cold. Whether the admiral had before made up his mind, or whether, irritated by his fruitless endeavours to continue his voyage, it is impossible to say ; but after three weeks' use- less struggle against the wind and currents, he hove to, and ordered all the captains on board, when he proposed that the prisoner should receive his punishment and that punish- ment was to be deserted ; that is, to be sent on shore with a day's food, where there was no means of obtaining support, so as to die miserably of hunger. This was a punishment frequently resorted to by the Dutch at that period, as will be seen by reading an account of their voyages ; but at the same time, seldom, if ever, awarded to one of so high a rank as that of commodore. Philip immediately protested against it, and so did Krantz, although they were both aware that by so doing they would make the admiral their enemy; but the other captains, who viewed both of them with a jealous eye, and considered them as interlopers and interfering with their advancements, sided with the admiral. Notwithstanding this majority, Philip thought it his duty to expostulate. " You know well, admiral," said he, " that I joined in his condemnation for a breach of discipline : but, at the same time, there was much in extenuation. He committed a breach of discipline to save his ship's company, but not an error in judgment, as you yourself proved, by taking the same measure to save your own men. Do not, therefore, visit an offence of so doubtful a nature with such cruelty. Let the Company decide the point when you send him home, which you can do so soon as you arrive in India. He is sufficiently punished by losing his command : to do what you propose will be ascribed to feelings of revenge more than to those of justice. What success can we deserve if we commit an act of such cruelty ; and how can we expect a merciful Providence to protect us from the winds and waves, when we are thus barbarous towards each other ? " Philip's arguments were of no avail. The admiral ordered him to return on board his ship, and had he been able to find 177 M THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 to 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 bv 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, mm/ 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 Dorl 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 per- mitted him. When the boat's keel grazed the beach he was 178 THE PHANTOM SHIP ordered out. The boat shoved off, and the men were not permitted even to bid him farewell. The fleet, as Philip had 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 com- modore 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 ?hip, 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 on 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 Tierra 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 inquiry as to when he passed, but could not dis- cover; 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 17.9 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 pro- prietor, 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 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 under- stand 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 In-held the other vessel with her light ahead, still sailing on and leaving them. The day was now dawning, and there was sufficient light to make out the land. The Dort was on shore not fifty yards from the beach* 180 THE PHANTOM SHIP and surrounded by the high and barren rocks ; yet the vessel ahead was apparently sailing on over the land. The seamen crowded on the forecastle watching this strange phenomenon ; at last it vanished from their sight. "That's the Flying Dutchman, by all that's holy!" cried one of the seamen, jumping off the gun. Hardly had the man uttered these words when the vessel disappeared. Philip felt convinced that it was so, and he walked away aft in a very perturbed state. It must have been his father's fatal ship which had decoyed them to probable destruction. He hardly knew how to act. The admiral's wrath he did not wish, just at that moment, to encounter. He sent for the officer of the watch, and having desired him to select a crew for the boat, out of those men who had been on deck, and could substantiate his assertions, ordered him to go on board of the admiral and state what had happened. As soon as the boat had shoved off', Philip turned his attention to the state of his own vessel. The daylight had increased, and Philip perceived that they were surrounded by rocks, and had run on shore between two reefs, which ex- tended half a mile from the mainland. He sounded round his vessel, and discovered that she was fixed from forward to aft, and that without lightening her, there was no chance of getting her off. He then turned to where the admiral's ship lay aground, and found that, to all appearance, she was in even a worse plight, as the rocks to leeward of her were above the water, and she was much more exposed, should bad weather come on. Never, perhaps, was there a scene more cheerless and appalling: a dark wintry sky a sky loaded with heavy clouds the wind cold and piercing the whole line of the coast one mass of barren rocks without the slightest appearance of vegetation ; the inland part of the- country pre- sented an equally sombre appearance, and the higher points were capped with snow, although it was not yet the winter season. Sweeping the coast with his eye, Philip perceived, not four miles to leeward of them (so little progress had they made), the spot where they had deserted the commodore "Surely this has been a judgment on him for his cruelty/' thought Philip, "and the prophecy of poor Avenhorn will come true more bones than his will bleach on those rocks." 181 THE PHANTOM SHIP Philip turned round again to where the admiral's ship was on shore, and started back, as he beheld a sight even more dread- ful than all that he had viewed the body of Vander Hagen, the officer sent on board of the admiral, hanging at the main- yard arm. " My God ! is it possible ? " exclaimed Philip, stamping with sorrow and indignation. His boat was returning on board, and Philip awaited it with impatience. The men hastened up the side, and breath- lessly informed Philip that the admiral, as soon as he had heard the lieutenant's report, and his acknowledgment that he was officer of the watch, had ordered him to be hanged, and that he had sent them back with a summons for him to repair on board immediately, and that they had seen another rope preparing at the other yard-arm. " But not for you, sir," cried the men; "that shall never be you shall not go on board and we will defend you with our lives." The whole ship's company joined in this resolution, and expressed their determination to resist the admiral. Philip thanked them kindly stated his intention of not going on board, and requested that they would remain quiet, until it was ascertained what steps the admiral might take. He then went down to his cabin, to reflect upon what plan he should pursue. As he looked out of the stern-windows, and perceived the body of the young man still swinging in the wind, he almost wished that he was in his place, for then there would be an end to his wayward fate : but he thought of Amine, and felt that for her he wished to live. That the Phantom Ship should have decoyed him to destruction was also a source of much painful feeling, and Philip meditated, with his hands pressed to his temples. " It is my destiny," thought he at last, "and the will of Heaven must be done : we could not have been so deceived if Heaven had not permitted it." And then his thoughts reverted to his present situation. That the admiral had exceeded his powers in taking the life of the officer was undeniable, as although his instructions gave him power of life and death, still it was only to be decided by the sentence of the court-martial held by the captains commanding the vessels of the fleet ; he therefore felt himself justified in resistance. But Philip was troubled with the idea that such resistance might lead to much bloodshed ; and he 182 THE PHANTOM SHIP was still debating how to act, when they reported to him that there was a boat coming from the admiral's ship. Philip went upon deck to receive the officer, who stated that it was the admiral's order that he should immediately come on board, and that he must consider himself now under arrest, and deliver up his sword. " No ! no ! " exclaimed the ship's company of the Dorf "He shall not go on board. We will stand by our captaiiv to the last." " Silence, men ! silence ! " cried Philip. " You must be aware, sir," said he to the officer, " that in the cruel punish- ment of that innocent young man, the admiral has exceeded his powers : and much as I regret to see any symptoms of mutiny and insubordination, it must be remembered that, if those in command disobey the orders they have received, by exceeding them, they not only set the example, but give an excuse for those who otherwise would be bound to obey them, to do the same. Tell the admiral that his murder of that innocent man has determined me no longer to consider myself under his authority, and that I will hold myself as well as him answerable to the Company whom we serve, for our conduct. I do not intend to go on board and put myself in his power, that he might gratify his resentment by my ignominious death. It is a duty that I owe these men under my command to pre- serve my life, that I may, if possible, preserve theirs in this strait ; and you may also add, that a little reflection must point out to him that this is no time for us to war with, but to assist each other with all our energies. We are here, shipwrecked on a barren coast, with provisions insufficient for any length- ened stay, no prospect of succour, and little of escape. As the commodore truly prophesied, many more arc likely to perish as well as he and even the admiral himself may be of the number. I shall wait his answer : if he choose to lay aside all animosity, and refer our conduct to a higher tribunal, I am willing to join with him in rendering that assistance to each other, which our situation requires ; if not, you must perceive, and, of course, will tell him that I have those with me who will defend me against any attempt at force. You have my answer, sir, and may go on board." The officer went to the gangway, but found that none of his crew, except the bowman, were in the boat ; they had gone up 183 THE PHANTOM SHIP to gain from the men of the Dort the true history of what they had but imperfectly heard : and, before they were summoned to return, had received full intelligence. They coincided with the seamen of the Dort, that the appearance of the Phantom Ship, which had occasioned their present disaster, was a judg- ment upon the admiral for his conduct in having so cruelly deserted the poor commodore. Upon the return of the officer with Philip's answer, the rage of the admiral was beyond all bounds. He ordered the guns aft, which would bear upon the Dort, to be double-shotted, and fired into her ; but Krantz pointed out to him that they could not bring more guns to bear upon the Dort in their present situation, than the Dort could bring to bear upon them ; that their superior force was thus neutralised, and that no advantage could result from taking such a step The admiral immediately put Krantz under arrest, and proceeded to put into execution his insane intentions. In this he was, however, prevented by the seamen of the Lion, who neither wished to fire upon their consort nor to be fired at in return. The report of the boat's crew had been circulated through the ship, and the men felt too much ill-will against the admiral, and perceived at the same time the extreme difficulty of their situation to wish to make it worse. They did not proceed to open mutiny, but they went down below, and when the officers ordered thorn up, they refused to go upon deck ; and the officers, who were equally disgusted with the admiral's con- duct, merely informed him of the state of the ship's company, without naming individuals so as to excite his resentment against any one in particular. Such was the state of affairs when the sun went down. Nothing had been done on board the admiral's ship, for Krantz was under arrest, and the admiral had retired in a state of fury to his cabin. In the meantime, Philip and the ship's company had not been idle they had laid an anchor out astern, and hove taut ; they had started all the water, and were pumping it out, when a boat pulled alongside, and Krantz made his appearance on deck. " Captain Vanderdecken, I have come to put myself under your orders, if you will receive me if not, render me your protection ; for, as sure as fate, I should have been hanged to-morrow morning, if I had remained in my own ship. The THE PHANTOM SHIP men in the boat have come with the same intention that of joining you, if you will permit them." Although Philip would have wished it had been otherwise, he could not well refuse to receive Krantz, under the circum- stances of the case. He was very partial to him, and to save his life, which certainly was in danger, he would have done much more. He desired that the boat's crew should return; but when Krantz had stated to him what had occurred on board the Lion, and the crew earnestly begged him not to send them back to almost certain death, which their having effected the escape of Krantz would have assured, Philip reluctantly allowed them to remain. The night was tempestuous, but the wind being now off shore, the water was not rough. The crew of the Dort, under the directions of Philip and Krantz, succeeded in lightening the vessel so much during the night that the next morning they were able to haul her off, and found that her bottom had received no serious injury. It was fortunate for them that they had not discontinued their exertions, for the wind shifted a few hours before sunrise, and by the time that they had shipped their rudder, it came on to blow fresh down the Straits, the wind being accompanied with a heavy swell. The admiral's ship still lay aground, and apparently no exertions were used to get her off. Philip was much puzzled how to act : leave the crew of the Lion he could not ; nor indeed could he refuse, nor did he wish to refi:se, the admiral if he proposed coming on board ; but he now made up his mind that it should only be as a passenger, and that he would himself retain the command. At present he contented himself with dropping his anchor outside, clear of the reef, where he was sheltered by a bluff cape, under which the water was smooth about a mile distant from where the admiral's ship lay on shore; and he employed his crew in repleni: hing his water- casks from a rivulet close to where the ship was anchored. He waited to see if the other vessel got off, being convinced that if she did not, some communication must soon take place. As soon as the water was complete, he sent one of the boats to the place where the commodore had been landed, having resolved to take him on board, if they could find him ; but the boat returned without having seen anything of him, 185 THE PHANTOM SHIP although the men had clambered over the hills to a con- siderable distance. On the second morning after Philip had hauled his vessel off, they observed that the boats of the admiral's ship were passing and repassing from the shore, landing her stores and pro- visions ; and the next day, from the tents pitched on shore, it was evident that she was abandoned, although the boats were still employed in taking articles out of her. That night it blew fresh, and the sea was heavy ; the next morning her masts were gone, and she turned on her broadside : she was evidently a wreck, and Philip now consulted with Krant/ how to act. To leave the crew of the Lion on shore was impossible : they must all perish when the winter set in upon such a desolate coast. On the whole, it was considered advisable that the first com- munication should come from the other party, and Philip resolved to remain quietly at anchor. It was very plain that there was no longer any subordination among the crew of the Lion, who were to be seen, in the day- time, climbing over the rocks in every direction, and at night, when their large fires were lighted, carousing and drinking. This waste of provisions was a subject of much vexation to Philip. He had not more than sufficient for his own crew, and he took it for granted that, so soon as what they had taken on shore should be expended, the crew of the Lion would ask to be received on board of the Dort. For more than a week did affairs continue in this state, when one morning a boat was seen pulling towards the ship, and in the stern-sheets Philip recognised the officer who had been sent on board to put him under arrest. When the officer came on deck, he took off his hat to Philip. " You do ; then, acknowledge me as in command," observed Philip. " Yes, sir, most certainly ; you were second in command, but now you are first for the admiral is dead." "Dead!" exclaimed Philip; "and how?" " He was found dead on the beach, under a high cliff, and the body of the commodore was in his arms ; indeed, they were both grappled together. It is supposed, that in his walk up to the top of the hill, which he used to take every day, to see if any vessels might b*; in the Straits, he fell in IBS THE PHANTOM SHIP with the commodore that they had come to contention, and had both fallen over the precipice together. No one saw the meeting, but they must have fallen over the rocks, as the bodies are dreadfully mangled." On inquiry, Philip ascertained that all chance of saving the Lion had been lost after the second night, when she had beat in her larboard streak, and had six feet of water in the hold ; that the crew had been very insubordinate, and had consumed almost all the spirits ; and that not only all the sick had already perished, but also many others, who had either fallen over the rocks when they were intoxi- cated, or had been found dead in the morning from their exposure during the night. " Then the poor commodore's prophecy has been fulfilled ! " observed Philip to Krantz. " Many others, and even the admiral himself, have perished with him peace be with them ! And now let us get away from this horrible place as soon as possible." Philip then gave orders to the officer to collect his men, and the provisions that remained, for immediate embarkation. Krantz followed soon after with all the boats, and before night everything was on ooard. The bodies of the admiral and commodore were buried where they lay, and the next morning the Dort was under way, and with a slanting wind was laying a fair course through the Straits. CHAPTER XIX IT appeared as if their misfortunes were to cease after the tragical death of the two commanders. In a few days the Dort had passed through the Straits of Magellan, and was sailing in the Pacific Ocean, with a blue sky and quiet sea. The ship's company recovered their health and spirits, and the vessel being now well manned, the duty was carried on with cheerfulness. In about a fortnight they had gained well up on the Spanish coast, but although they had seen many of the in- habitants on the beach, they had not fallen in with any vessels belonging to the Spaniards. Aware that if he met 87 THE PHANTOM SHIP with a Spanish ship of superior force it would attack him, Philip had made every preparation, and had trained his men to the guns. He had now, with the joint crews of the vessels, a well-manned ship, and the ai.ticipation of prize- money had made his men very eager to fall in with some Spaniard, which they knew that Philip would capture if he could. Light winds and calms detained them for a month on the coast, when Philip determined upon running for the Isle of St. Marie, where, though he knew it was in possession of the Spaniards, he yet hoped to be able to procure refresh- ments for the ship's company, either by fair means or by force. The Dort was, by their reckoning, about thirty miles from the island, and having run in until after dark, they had hove to till the next morning. Krantz was on deck ; he leaned over the side, and as the sails flapped to the masts, he attempted to define the line of the horizon. It was very dark, but as he watched, he thought that he perceived a light for a moment, and which then disappeared. Fixing his eyes on the spot, he soon made out a vessel, hove to, and not two cables' length distant. He hastened down to apprise Philip and procure a glass. By the time Philip was on deck, the vessel had been distinctly made out to be a three-masted zebec, very low in the water. After a short consultation, it was agreed that the boats on the quarter should be lowered down, and manned and armed without noise, and that they should steal gently alongside and surprise her. The men were called up, silence enjoined, and in a few minutes the boat's crew had possession of the vessel ; having boarded her and secured the hatches before the alarm could be given by the few who were on deck. More men were then taken on board by Krantz, who, as agreed upon, lay to under the lee of the Dort until the daylight made its appearance. The hatches were then taken off, and the prisoners sent on board of the Dort. There were sixty people on board, a large number for a vessel of that description. On being interrogated, two of the prisoners, who were well dressed and gentlemanlike persons, stepped forward and stated that the vessel was from St. Mary's, bound to Lima, with a cargo of flour and passengers ; that the crew and captain consisted of twenty-five men, and all the rest who were on board had taken that opportunity of going to Lima ; THE PHANTOM SHIP that they themselves were among the passengers, and trusted that the vessel and cargo would be immediately re- leased, as the two nations were not at war. " Not at war at home, I grant/' replied Philip, " but in these seas, the constant aggressions of your armed ships compel me to retaliate, and I shall, therefore, make a prize of your vessel and cargo. At the same time, as I have no wish to molest private individuals, I will land all the passengers and crew at St. Mary's, to which place I am bound in order to obtain refreshments, which now I shall expect will be given cheerfully as your ransom, so as to relieve me from resorting to force." The prisoners protested strongly against this, but without avail. They then requested leave to ransom the vessel and cargo, offering a larger sum than they both appeared to be worth ; but Philip, being short of provisions, refused to part with the cargo, and the Spaniards appeared much disappointed at the unsuccessful issue of their request. Finding that nothing would induce him to part with the pro- visions, they then begged hard to ransom the vessel ; and to this, after a consultation with Krantz, Philip gave his assent. The two vessels then made sail, and steered on for the island, then about foijr leagues distant. Although Philip had not wished to retain the vessel, yet, as they stood in together, her superior speed became so manifest that he almost repented that he had agreed to ransom her. At noon, the Dort was anchored in the roads, out of gunshot, and a portion of the passengers allowed to go on shore and make arrangements for the ransom of the remainder, while the prize was hauled alongside, and her cargo hoisted into the ship. Towards evening, three large boats with live-stock and vegetables and the sum agreed upon for the ransom of the xebec came alongside ; and as soon as one of the boats was cleared, the prisoners were permitted to go on shore in it, with the exception of the Spanish pilot, who. at the suggestion of Krantz, was retained, with a promise of being released directly the Dort was clear of the Spanish seas. A negro slave was also, at his own request, allowed to remain on board, much to the annoyance of the two passengers before mentioned, who claimed the man as their property, and insisted that it was an infraction of the agreement which had been entered into. " You prove my right by your own words," replied Philip ; THE PHANTOM SHIP " I agreed to deliver up all the passengers, but no property ; the slave will remain on board." Finding their endeavours ineffectual, the Spaniards took a haughty leave. The Dort remained at anchor that night to examine her rigging, and the next morning they discovered that the xebec had disappeared, having sailed unperceived by them during the night. As soon as the anchor was up and sail made on the ship, Philip went down to his cabin with Krantz, to consult as to their best course. They were followed by the negro slave, who, shutting the door and looking watchfully round, said that he wished to speak with them. His information was most important, but given rather too late. The vessel which had been ransomed was a government advice-boat, the fastest sailer the Spaniards possessed. The two pretended passengers were officers of the Spanish navy, and the others were the crew of the vessel. She had been sent down to collect the bullion and take it to Lima, and at the same time to watch for the arrival of the Dutch fleet, intelligence of whose sailing had been some time before received overland. When the Dutch fleet made its appearance, she was to return to Lima with the news, and a Spanish force would be detached against it. They further learned that some of the supposed casks of flour contained 2000 gold doubloons each, others bars of silver ; this precaution having been taken in case of capture. That the vessel had now sailed for Lima there was no doubt. The reason why the Spaniards were so anxious not to leave the negro on board of the Dort was that they knew he would disclose what he now had done. As for the pilot, he was a man whom the Spaniards knew they could trust, and for that reason they had better be careful of him, or he woultl lead the Dort into some difficulty. Philip now repented that he had ransomed the vessel, as he would, in all probability, have to meet and cope with a superior force, before he could make his way clear out of these seas ; but there was no help for it. He consulted with Krantz, and it was agreed that they should send for the ship's company and make them acquainted with these facts ; arguing that a know- ledge of the valuable capture which they had made, would induce the men to fight well, and stimulate them with the hopes of further success. The ship's company heard the Intel- 190 THE PHANTOM SHIP ligence with delight, professed themselves ready to meet double their force, and then, by the directions of Philip, the casks were brought up on the quarter-deck, opened, and the bullion taken out. The whole, when collected, amounted to about half a million of dollars, as near as they could estimate it, and a distribution of the coined money was made from the capstan the very next day ; the bars of metal being reserved until they could be sold, and their value ascertained. For six weeks Philip worked his vessel up the coast, without falling in with any vessel under sail. Notice had been given by the advice-boat, as it appeared, and everv craft, large and small, was at anchor under the batteries. They had nearly run up the whole coast, and Philip had determined that the next day he would stretch across to Eatavia, when n ship was seen in-shore under a press of sail, running towards Lima. Chase was immediately given, but the water shoaled, and the pilot was asked if they could stand on. He replied in the affirmative, stating that they were now in the shallowest water, and that it was deeper within. The leadsman was ordered into the chains, but at the first heave, the lead-line broke ; another was sent for, and the Dort still carried on under a heavy press of sail. Just then, the negro slave went up to Philip, and told him that he had seen the pilot with his knife in the chains, and that he thought he must have cut the lead-line so far through as to occasion its being carried away, and told Philip not to trust him. The helm was immediately put down ; but as the ship went round she touched on the bank, dragged, and was again clear. " Scoundrel ! " cried Philip. " So you cut the lead-line? The negro saw you, and has saved us." The Spaniard leaped down from oft' the gun, and, before he coulJ be prevented, had buried his knife in the heart of the negro. " Maldctto, take that for your pains ! " cried he, in a fury, grinding his teeth and flourishing his knife. The negro fell dead. The pilot was seized and disarmed by the crew of the Dort, who were partial to the negro, as it *as from his information that they hail become rich. " Let them do with him as they please," said Krantz to Philip. "Yes," replied Philip; "summary justice." The crew debated a few minutes, and then lashed the pilot negro, and carried him off to the taffraiL There was a THE PHANTOM SHIP heavy plunge, .and he disappeared under the edying waters In the wake of the vessel. Philip now determined to shape his course for Batavia. He was within a few days' sail of Lima, and had every reason to believe that vessels had been sent out to intercept him. With a favourable wind he now stood away from the coast, and for three days made a rapid passage. On the fourth, at daylight, two vessels appeared to windward, bearing down upon him. That they were large armed vessels was evident ; and the display of Spanish ensigns and pennants, as they rounded to; about a mile to windward, soon showed that they were enemies. They proved to be a frigate of a larger size than the Dort and a corvette of twenty-two guns. The crew of the Dort showed no alarm at this disparity of force : they clinked their doubloons in their pockets ; vowed not to return them to their lawful owners, if they could help it; and flew with alacrity to their guns. The Dutch ensign was displayed in defiance, and the two Spanish vessels, again putting their heads towards the Dort, that they might lessen their distance, received some raking shot, which somewhat discomposed them, but they rounded to at a cable's length, and commenced the action with great spirit, the frigate lying on the beam, and the corvette on the bow of Philip's vessel. After half-an-hour's determined exchange of broadsides, the foremast of the Spanish frigate fell, carrying away with it the maintop- mast ; and this accident impeded her firing. The Dort imme- diately made sail, stood on to the corvette, which she crippled with three or four broadsides, then tacked, and fetched along- side of the frigate, whose lee-guns were still impeded with the wreck of the foremast. The two vessels now lay head and tern, within ten feet of each other, and the action recom- menced to the disadvantage of the Spaniard. In a quarter of an hour the canvas hanging overside caught fire from the discharge of the guns, and very soon communicated to the ship, the Dort still pouring in a most destructive broadside, which could not be effectually returned. After every attempt to extinguish the flames, the captain of the Spanish vessel resolved that both vessels should share the same fate. He put his helm up, and, running her on to the Dort, grappled with her, and attempted to secure the two vessels togethc-r. Then raged the conflict; the Spaniards attempting to pass their 1.92 THE PHANTOM SHIP grappling-chains, so as to prevent the escape of their enemy, and the Dutch endeavouring to frustrate their attempt. The chains and sides of both vessels were crowded with men fight- ing desperately ; those struck down falling between the two vessels, which the wreck of the foremast still prevented from coming into actual collision. During this conflict, Philip and Krantz were not idle. By squaring the after-yards, and put- ting all sail on forward they contrived that the Dort should pay off before the wind with her antagonist, and by this manoeuvre they cleared themselves of the smoke, which so incommoded them ; and having good way on the two vessels, they then rounded to so as to get on the other tack, and bring the Spaniard to leeward. This gave them a manifest advantage, and soon terminated the conflict. The smoke and flames were beaten back on the Spanish vessel the fire which had communicated to the Dort was extinguished the Spaniards were no longer able to prosecute their endeavours to fasten the two vessels together, and retreated to within the bulwarks of their own vessel ^ and after great exertions the Dor! was disengaged, and forged ahead of her opponent, who was soon enveloped in a sheet of flame. The corvette remained a few cables' length to windward, occasionally firing a gun. Philip poured in a broadside, and she hauled down her colours. The action might now be considered at an end, and the object was to save the crew of the burning frigate. The boats of the Dort were hoisted out, but only two of them could swim. One of them was immediately despatched to the corvette, with orders for her to send all her boats to the assistance of the frigate, which was done, and the major part of the surviving crew were saved. For two hours the guns of the frigate, as they were heated by the flames, discharged themselves ; and then, the fire having communicated to the magazine, she blew up, and the remainder of her hull sank slowly and disappeared. Among the prisoners in the uniform of the Spanish service Philip perceived the two pretended passengers; this proving the correctness of the negro's statement. The two men-of- war had been sent out of Lima on purpose to intercept him, anticipating, with such a preponderating force, an easy victory. After some consultation with Krantz, Philip agreed, that as the corvette was insurh a crippled state, and the nations were not actually at war, it would be advisable to release her with all 193 N THE PHANTOM SHIP the prisoners. This was done, and the Dort again made sail for Batavia, and anchored in the roads three weeks after the combat had taken place. He found the remainder of the fleet, which had been despatched before them, and had arrived there some weeks, had taken in their cargoes, and were ready to sail for Holland. Philip wrote his despatches, in which he com- municated to the Directors the events of the voyage ; and then went on shore, to reside at the house of the merchant who had formerly received him, until the Dort could be freighted for her voyage home. CHAPTER XX TT E must return to Amine, who is seated on the mossy bank where she and Philip conversed when they were inter- rupted by Schriften the pilot. She is in deep thought, with her eyes cast down, as if trying to recall the past. " Alas ! for my mother's power," exclaimed she*; "but it is gone gone for ever. This torment and suspense I cannot bear those foolish priests too ! " And Amine rose from the bank and walked towards her cottage. Father Mathias had not returned to Lisbon. At first he had not found an opportunity, and afterwards his debt of gratitude towards Philip induced him to remain by Amine, who appeared each day to hold more in aversion the tenets of the Christian faith. Many arid many were the consultations with Father Seysen, many were the exhortations of both the good old men to Amine, who at times would listen without reply, and at others argue boldly against them. It appeared to them that she rejected their religion with an obstinacy as unpardonable as it was incomprehensible. But to her the case was more simple : she refused to believe, she said, that which she could not understand. She went so far as to acknowledge the beauty of the principles, the purity of the doctrine ; but when the good priests would enter into the articles of their faith, Amine would either shake her head or attempt to turn the conversation. This only increased the anxiety of the good Father Mathias to convert and save the soul of one so young and beautiful ; and he now no longer thought of returning to Lisbon, but devoted his whole ti ic to the instruction of THE PHANTOM SHIP Amine, who, wearied by his incessant importunities, almost loathed his presence. Upon reflection, it will not appear surprising that Amine rejected a creed so dissonant to her wishes and intentions. The human mind is of that proud natui*e, that it requires all its humility to be called into action before it will bow, even to the Deity. Amine knew that her mother had possessed superior know- ledge, and an intimacy with unearthly intelligences. She had seen her practise her art with success, although so young at the time that she could not now call to mind the mystic preparations by which her mother had succeeded in her wishes ; and it was now that her thoughts were wholly bent upon recovering what she had forgotten, that Father Mathias was exhorting her to a creed which positively forbade even the attempt. The peculiar and awful mission of her husband strengthened her opinion in the lawfulness of calling in the aid of supernatural agencies ; and the arguments brought for- ward by these worthy, but not over-talented, professors of the Christian creed, had but little effect upon a mind so strong and so decided as that of Amine a mind which, bent as it was upon one object, rejected with scorn tenets in proof of which they could offer no visible manifestation, and which would have bound her blindly to believe what appeared to her contrary to common-sense. That her mother's art could bring evidence of its truth she had already shown, and satisfied herself in the effect of the dream which she had proved upon Philip; but what proof could they bring forward ? Records which they would not permit her to read ! "Oh that I had my mother's art! " repeated Amine once more, as she entered the cottage; "then would I know where my Philip was at this moment. Oh for the black mirror in which I used to peer at her command, and tell her what passed in array before me. How well do I remember that time the time of my father's absence, when I looked into the liquid on the palm of my hand, and told her of the Bedouin camp of the skirmish the horse without a rider and the turban ou the sand !" And again Amine fell into deep thought. "Yes," cried she, after a time, "thou canst assist me, mother ! Give me in a dream thy knowledge; thy daughter begs it as a boon. Let me think again. The word what was the word? what THE PHANTOM SHIP was the name of the spirit Turshoon ? Yes, methinks it was Turshoon. Mother ! mother ! help your daughter." "Dost thou call upon the Blessed Virgin, my child?" said Father Mathias, who had entered the room as she pronounced the last words. " If so, thou dost well, for she may appear to thee in thy dreams and strengthen thee in the true faith." "I called upon my own mother, who is in the land of spirits, good father," replied Amine. " Yes ; but as an infidel, not, I fear, in the land of the blessed spirits, my child." " She hardly will be punished for following the creed of her fathers, living where she did, where no other creed was known?" replied Amine indignantly. "If the good on earth are blessed in the next world if she had, as you assert she had, a soul to be saved an immortal spirit He who made that spirit will not destroy it because she worshipped as her fathers did. Her life was good : why should she be punished for ignorance of that creed which she never had an oppor- tunity of rejecting ? " " Who shall dispute the will of Heaven, my child ? Be thankful that you are permitted to be instructed, and to be received into the bosom of the holy Church." " I am thankful for many things, father ; but I am weary, and must wish you a good night." Amine retired to her room but not to sleep. Once more did she attempt the ceremonies used by her mother, changing them each time, as doubtful of her success. Again the censer was lighted the chann essayed ; again the room was filled with smoke as she threw in the various herbs which she had knowledge of, for all the papers thrown aside at her father's death had been carefully collected, and on many were direc- tions found as to the use of those herbs. " The word ! the word! I have the first the second word! Help me, mother!" cried Amine, as she sat by the side of the bed, in the room, which was now so full of smoke that nothing could be dis- tinguished. " It is of no use," thought she at last, letting her hands fall at her side; "I have forgotten the art. Mother! mother ! help me in my dreams this night." The smoke gradually cleared away, and when Amine lifted up her eyes she perceived a figure standing before her. At first she thought she had been successful in her churm ; but THE PHANTOM SHIP as the figure became more distinct, she perceived that it was Father Mat liias. who was looking at her with a severe frowu and contracted brow, his arms folded before him. " Unholy child 1 what dost thou ? " Amine had roused the suspicions of the priests, not only by her conversation, but by several attempts which she had before made to recover her lost art ; and on one occasion, in which she had defended it, both Father Mathias and Father Seysen had poured out the bitterest anathemas upon her, or any one who had resort to such practices. The smell of the fragrant herbs thrown into the censer, and the smoke, which afterwards had escaped through the door and ascended the stairs, had awakened the suspicions of Father Mathias, and he had crept up silently, and entered the room without her per- ceiving it. Amine at once perceived her danger. Had she been single, she would have dared the priest ; but for Philip's sake she determined to mislead him. " I do no wrong, father," replied she calmly 5 " but it appears to me not seemly that you should enter the chamber of a young woman during her husband's absence. I might have been in my bed. It is a strange intrusion." "Thou canst not mean this, woman ! My age my pro- fession are a sufficient warranty," replied Father Mathias, somewhat confused at this unexpected attack. "Not always, father, if what I have been told of monks and priests be true," replied Amine. " I ask again, v. hy comest thou here into an unprotected woman's chamber?" "Because I felt convinced that she was practising unholy arts." " Unholy arts ! what mean you ? Is the leech's skill un- holy ? is it unholy to administer relief to those who suffer to charm the fever and the ague, which rack the limbs of those who live in this unwholesome climate ? " "All charms are most unholy." "When I said channs, father, I meant not what you mean ; I simply would have said a remedy. If p. knowledge of certain wonderful herbs, which, properly combined, Mill form a specific to ease the suffering wretch an art well known unto my mother, and which I now would fain recall if th;\t knowledge, or a wish to regain that knowledge, be unholy, then are }"ou correct." 1.9* THE PHANTOM SHIP * I heard thce call upon thy mother for her help." " I did, for she well knew the ingredients ; but I, I fear, have not the knowledge that she had. Is that sinful, good father?" " 'Tis, then, a remedy that you would find ? " replied the priest; "I thought that thou didst practise that which is most unlawful." " Can the burning of a few weeds be then unlawful ? What did you expect to find ? Look you, father, at these ashes they may, with oil, be rubbed into the pores and give relief but can they do more ? What do you expect from them a ghost ? a spirit ? like the prophet raised for the King of Israel ? " And Amine laughed aloud. " I am perplexed, but not convinced," replied the priest. "I, too, am perplexed and not convinced," responded Amine scornfully. " I cannot satisfy myself that a man of your discretion could really suppose that there was mischief in burning weeds ; nor am I convinced that such was the occasion of your visit at this hour of the night to a lone woman's chamber. There may be natural charms more powerful than those you call supernatural. I pray you, father, leave this chamber. It is not seemly. Should you again presume, you leave the house. I thought better of you. In future, I will not be left at any time alone." This attack of Amine's upon the reputation of the old priest was too severe. Father Mathias immediately quitted the room, saying, as he went out, ' May God forgive you for your false suspicions and great injustice ! I came here for the cause I have stated, and no more." " Yes ! " soliloquised Amine, as the door cksed, " I know you did ; but I must rid myself of your unwelcome company. I will have no spy upon my actions no meddler to thwart me in my will. In your zeal you have committed yourself, and I will take the advantage you have given me." Is not the privacy of a woman's chamber to be held sacred by you sacred men? In return for assistance in distress for food and shelter you would become a spy. How grateful, ana how worthy of the creed which you profess ! " Amine opened her door as soon as she had removed the censer, and summoned one of the women of the house to stay that night in her room, stating that the priest had entered her chamber, and she did not like the intrusion. THE PHANTOM SHIP :t Holy father ! is it possible ? " replied the woman. Amine made no reply, but went to bed ; but Father Mathias heard all that passed as he paced the room below. The next day he called upon Father Seysen, and communicated to him what had occurred, and the false suspicions of Amine. " You have acted hastily," replied Father Seysen, " to visit a woman's chamber at such an hour of the night." " I had my suspicions, good Father Seysen." ' And she will have hers. She is young and beautiful." *' Now, by the blessed Virgin *' I absolve you, good Mathias," replied Father Seysen ; "but still, if known, it would occasion much scandal to our Church." And known it soon was ; for the woman who had been summoned by Amine did not fail to mention the circum- stance ; and Father Mathias found himself everywhere so coldly received, and, besides, so ill at ease with himself, that he very soon afterwards quitted the country, and returned to Lisbon ; angry with himself for his imprudence, but still more angry with Amine for her unjust suspicions. CHAPTER XXI _L HE cargo of the Dort was soon ready, and Philip sailed and arrived at Amsterdam without any further adventure. That he reached his cottage, and was received with delight by Amine, need hardly be said. She had been expecting him ; for the two ships of the squadron which had sailed on his arrival at Batavia, and which had charge of his despatches, had, of course, carried letters to her from Philip, the first letters she had ever received from him during his voyages. Six weeks after the letters Philip himself made his appear- ance, and Amine was happy. The Directors were, of course, highly satisfied with Philip's conduct, arid he was appointed to the command of a large armed ship, which was to proceed to India in the spring, and one-third of which, according to agree- ment, was purchased by Philip out of the funds which he had in the hands of the company. He had now five months of quick and repose to pass away, previous to his once more trust- 199 THE PHANTOM SHIP teg to the elements ; and this time, as it was agreed, he had to make arrangements on board for the reception of A mine. Amine narrated to Philip what had occurred between her and the priest Mathias, and by what means she had rid herself of his unwished-for surveillance. " And were you practising your mother's arts, Amine ? " "Nay, not practising them, for I could not recall them, but I was trying to discover them." " Why so, Amine ? this must not be. It is, as the good father said, f unholy.' Promise me you will abandon them, now and for ever." " If that act be unholy, Philip, so is your mission. You would deal and co-operate with the spirits of another world - I would do no more. Abandon your terrific mission abandon your seeking after disembodied spirits, stay at home with your Amine, and she will cheerfully comply with your request." " Mine is an awful summons from the Most High." "Then the Most High permits your communion with those who are not of this world ? " " He does ; you know even the priests do not gainsay it, although they shudder at the very thought." " If, then, He pennits to one He will to another ; nay, aught that I can do is but with His permission." " Yes, Amine, so does He j>ermit evil to stalk on the earth, but He countenances it not." " He countenances your seeking after your doomed father, your attempts to meet him ; nay, more, He commands it. If you are thus permitted, why may not I be ? I am your wife, a portion of yourself ; and when I am left over a desolate hearth, ,while you pursue your course of danger, may not I appeal also to the immaterial world to give me that intelligence which will soothe my sorrow, lighten my burden, and which, at the same time, can hurt no living creature ? Did I attempt to practise these arts for evil purposes, it were just to deny them me, and wrong to continue them ; but I would but follow in the steps of my husband, and seek, as he seeks, with a good intent" " But it is contrary to our faith." " Have the priests declared your mission contrary to their faith ? or, if they have, have they not been convinced to the contrary, and been awed to silence ? But why argue, my dear Philip ? Shall I not now be with you ? and while with 200 THE PHANTOM SHIP you I will attempt no more. You have my promise ; but if separated, I will not say but I shall then require of the invisible a knowledge of my husband's motions, when in search of the invisible also." The winter passed rapidly away, for it was passed by Philip in quiet and happiness; the spring came on, the vessel was to be fitted out, and Philip and Amine repaired to Amsterdam. The Utrecht was the name of the vessel to which he had been appointed, a ship of 400 tons, newly launched, and pierced for twenty-four guns. Two more months passed away, during which Philip superintended the fitting and load- ing of the vessel, assisted by his favourite Krantz, who served in her as first mate. Every convenience and comfort that Philip could think of was prepared for Amine ; and in the month of May he started, with orders to stop at Gambroon and Ceylon, run down the Straits of Sumatra, and from thence to force his way into the China seas, the Company having every reason to expect from the Portuguese the most deter- mined opposition to the attempt. His ship's company was numerous, and he had a small detachment of soldiers on board ' to assist the supercargo, who carried out many thousand dollars to make purchases at ports in China, where their goods might not be appreciated. Every care had been taken in the equip- ment of the vessel, which was perhaps the finest, the best manned, and freighted with the most valuable cargo, which had been sent out by the India Company. The Utrecht sailed with a flowing sheet, and was soon clear of the English Channel ; the voyage promised to be auspicious, favouring gales bore them without accident to within a few hundred miles of the Cape of Good Hope, when, for the first time, they were becalmed. Amine was delighted : in the evenings she would pace the deck with Philip ; then all was silent, except the splash of the wave as it washed against the side of the vessel all was in repose and beauty, as the bright southern constellations sparkled over their heads. " Whose destinies can be in these stars, which appear not to those who inhabit the northern regions?" said Amine, as she cast her eyes above, and watched them in their brightness ; " and what does that falling meteor portend ? what causes its rapid descent from heaven ?" " Do you, then, put faith in stars, Amine ? " 201 THE PHANTOM SHIP " In Araby we do ; snd why not ? They were not spread over the sky to give light for what then ? " "To beautify the world. They have their uses, too." " Then you agree with me they have their uses, and the destinies of men are there concealed. My mother was one of those who could read them well. Alas ! for me they are a sealed book." " Is it not better so, Amine ?" " Better ! say better to grovel on this earth with our selfish, humbled race, wandering in mystery, and awe, and doubt, when we can communicate with the intelligences above ! Does not the soul leap at her admission to confer with superior powers ? Does not the proud heart bound at the feeling that its owner is one of those more gifted than the usual race of mortals ? Is it not a noble ambition ? " " A dangerous one most dangerous." " And therefore most noble. They seem as if they would speak to me : look at yon bright star it beckons to me." For some time Amine's eyes were raised aloft ; she spoke not, and Philip remained at her side. She walked to the gangway of the vessel, and looked down upon the placid wave, pierced by the moonbeams far below the surface. " And does your imagination, Amine, conjure up a race of beings gifted to live beneath that deep blue wave, who sport amid the coral rocks, and braid their hair with pearls ? " said Philip, smiling. " I know not, but it appears to me that it would be sweet to live there. You may call to mind your dream, Philip ; I was then, according to your description, one of those same beings." "You were," replied Philip thoughtfully. " And yet I feel as if water would reject me, even if the vessel were to sink. In what manner this mortal frafme of mine may be resolved into its elements I know not ; but this I do feel, that it never will become the sport of, or be tossed by, the mocking waves. But come in, Philip, dearest; it is late, and the decks are wet with dew." When the day dawned, the look-out man at the masthead reported that he perceived something floating on the still surface of the water, on the beam of the vessel. Krantz went up with his glass to examine, and made it out to be a small boat, probably cut adrift from some vessel. As there was 202 THE PHANTOM SHIP no appearance of wind, Philip permitted a boat to be sent to examine it, and after a long pull the seamen returned on board, towing the small boat astern. "There is the body of a man in it, sir," said the second mate to Krantz, as he gained the gangway ; " but whether he is quite dead or not I cannot tell." Krantz reported this to Philip, who was at that time sitting at breakfast with Amine in the cabin, and then pro- ceeded to the gangway, to where the body of the man had been already handed up by the seamen. The surgeon, who had been summoned, declared that life was not yet extinct, and was ordering him to be taken below, for recovery, when, to their astonishment, the man turned as he lay, sat up, ami ultimately rose upon his feet and staggered to a gun, when, after a time, he appeared to be fully recovered. In reply to questions put to him, he said that he was in a vessel which had been upset in a squali, that he had time to cut away the small boat astern, and that all the rest of the crew had perished. He had hardly made this answer, when Philip, with Amine, came out of the cabin, and walked up to where the seamen were crowded round the man ; the seamen re- treated so as to make an opening, when Philip and Amine, to their astonishment and horror, recognised their old ac- quaintance, the one-eyed pilot Schriften. " He ! he ! Captain Vanderdecken, I believe glad to see you in command, and you too, fair lady." Philip turned away with a chill at his heart ; Amine's eye flashed as she surveyed . the wasted form of the wretched creature. After a few seconds she turned round and followed Philip into the cabin, where she found him with his face buried in his hands. "Courage, Philip, courage !" said Amine; "it was indeed a heavy shock, and, I fear me, forebodes evil ; but what then ? it is our destiny." " It is ! it ought perhaps to be mine," replied Philip, raising his head ; " but you, Amine, why should you be a partner " I am your partner, Philip, in life and in death. I would not die first, Philip, because it would grieve you ; but your death will be the signal for mine, and I will join you quickly." " Surely. Amine, you would not hasten your own ? " THE PHANTOM SHIP "Yes ! and require but one moment for this little steel to do its duty." " Nay, Amine, that is not lawful our religion forbids it." " It may do so, but I cannot tell why. I came into this world without my own consent ; surely I may leave it without asking the leave of priests ! But let that pass for the present : what will you do with that Schriften ? " " Put him on shore at the Cape ; I cannot bear the odious wretch'.s presence. Did you not feel the chill, as before, when you approached him ? *' "I did I knew that he was there before I saw him ; but still, I know not why, I feel as if I would not send him away." Why not ? " " I believe it is because I am inclined to brave destiny, not to quail at it. The wretch can do no harm." " Yes, he can much ; he can render the ship's company mutinous and disaffected ; besides, he attempted to deprive me of my relic." " I almost wish he had done so ; then you must have dis- continued this wild search." " Nay, Amine, say not so ; it is my duty, and I have taken my solemn oath " But this Schriften you cannot well put him ashore at the Cape ; being a Company's officer, you might send him home ii you found a ship there homeward bound ; still, were I you, I would let destiny work. He is woven in with ours, that is certain. Courage, Philip, and let him remain." " Perhaps you are right, Amine : I may retard, but cannot escape, whatever may be my intended fate." " Let him remain, then, and let him do his worst. Treat him with kindness who knows what we may gain from him?" " True, true, Amine ; he has been my enemy without cause. Who can tell ? perhaps he may become my friend." " And if not, you will have done your duty. Send for him now." " No, not now to-morrow ; in the meantime I will order him every comfort." " We are talking as if he were one of us, which I feel that he is not," replied Amine ; " but still, mundane or not, we cannot but offer mundane kindness, and what this world, or 204 THE PHANTOM SHIP rather what this ship, affords. I long now to talk with him, to see if I can produce any effect upon his icelike frame. Shall I make love to the ghoul ? " And Amine burst into a bitter laugh. Here the conversation dropped, but its substance was not disregarded. The next morning, the surgeon having re- ported that Schriften was apparently quite recovered, he was summoned into the cabin. His frame was wasted away to a skeleton, but his motions and his language were as sharp and petulant as ever. " I have sent for you, Schriften, to know if there is anything that I can do to make you more comfortable. Is there any- thing that you want ? " " Want ? " replied Schriften, eyeing first Philip and then Amine. " He ! he ! I think I want filling out a little." " That you will, I trust, in good time ; my steward has my orders to take care of you." " Poor man," said Amine, with a look of pity, " how much he must have suffered ! Is not this the man who brought you the letter from the Company, Philip ? " " He ! he ! yes ! Not very welcome, was it, lady ? " " No, my good fellow ; it's never a welcome message to a wife that sends her husband away from her. But that was not your fault." "If a husband will go to sea and leave a handsome wife, when he has, as they say, plenty of money to live upon on shore, he ! he !" " Yes, indeed, you may well say that," replied Amine. " Better give it up. All folly, all madness eh, captain ? " "I must finish this voyage, at all events," replied Philip to Amine, "whatever I may do afterwards. I have suffered much, and so have you, Schriften. You have been twice wrecked : now tell me, what do you wish to do ? Go home in the first ship, or go ashore at the Cape, or " Or do anything, so I get out of this ship he ! he ! " "Not so. If you prefer sailing with me, as I know you are a good seaman, you shall have your rating and pay of pilot that is, if you choose to follow my fortunes." "Follow? must follow. Yes, I'll sail with you, Mynheer Vanderdecken ; I wish to be always near you he ! he ! " " Be it so, then : as soon as you are strong again, you 205 THE PHANTOM SHIP will go to your duty ; till then, I will see that you want for nothing." " Nor I, ray good fellow. Come to me if you do, and I will be your help/' said Arnine. " You have suffered much ; but we will do what we can to make you forget it." " Very good ! very kind ! " replied Schriften, surveying the lovely face and figure of Amine. After a time, shrugging up his shoulders, he added : A pity ! Yes, it is ! Must be, though." " Farewell ! " continued Amine, holding out her hand to Schriften. The man took it, and a cold shudder went to her heart; but she, expecting such a result, would not appear to feel it. Schriften held her hand for a second or two in his own, look- ing at it earnestly, and then at Amine's face. " So fair so good ! Mynheer Vanderdecken, I thank you. Lady, may Heaven preserve you ! " Then squeezing the hand of Amine, which he had not released, Schriften hastened out of the cabin. So great was the sudden icy shock which passed through Amine's frame when Schriften pressed her hand, that when with difficulty she gained the sofa, she fell upon it. After remaining with her hand pressed against her heart for some time, during which Philip bent over her, she said, in a breath- less voice, " That creature must be supernatural I am sure of it I am now convinced. Well," continued she, after a pause of some little while, "all the better, if we can make him a friend, and if I can I will." " But think you, Amine, that those who are not of this world have feelings of kindness, gratitude, and ill-will, as we have ? Can they be made subservient ? " " Most surely so. If they have ill-will as we know they have they must also be endowed with the better feelings. Why, are there good and evil intelligences ? They may have disencumbered themselves of their mortal clay, but the soul must be the same. A soul without feeling were no soul at all. The soul is active in this world, and must be so in the next. If angels can pity, they must feel like us. If demons can vex, they must feel like us. Our feelings change, then why not theirs ? Without feelings, there were no heaven, no hell. Here our souls are confined, cribbed, and overladen 206 THE PHANTOM SHIP borne clown by the heavy flesh by which they are, for the time, polluted ; but the soul that has winged its flight from clay is, I think, not one jot more pure, more bright, or more perfect than those within ourselves. Can they be made sub- servient, say you ? Yes, they can ; they can be forced, when mortals possess the means and power. The evil-inclined may be forced to good, as well as to evil. It is not the good and perfect spirits that we subject by art, but those that are in- clined to wrong. It is over them that mortals have the power. Our arts have no power over the perfect spirits, but over those which are evil, and which are bound to obey and do good, if those who master them require it." " You still resort to forbidden arts, Amine. Is that right ? " "Right ! If we have the power given to us, it is right to use it." "Yes, most certainly, for good ; but m.t for evil." " Mortals in power, possessing nothing but what is mundane, are answerable for the use of that power ; so those gifted by superior means are answerable as they employ those means. Does the God above make a flower to grow, intending that it should not be gathered ? No ; neither does He allow super- natural aid to be given, if He did not intend that mortals should avail themselves of it." As Amine's eyes beamed upon Philip's, he could not for the moment subdue the idea rising in his mind, that she was not like other mortals ; and he calmly observed, " Am I sure, Amine, that I am wedded to one mortal as myself?" " Yes, yes ! Philip, compose yourself, I am but mortal } would to Heaven I were not. Would to Heaven I were one of those who could hover over you, watch you in all your perils, save and protect you in this your mad career ; but I am but a poor weak woman, whose heart beats fondly, devotedly for you who for you would dare all and everything -who, changed in her nature, has become courageous and daring from her love and who rejects all creeds which would prevent her from call- ing upon Heaven, or earth, or hell, to assist her in retaining with her her soul's existence ! " " Nay, nay ! Amine say not you reject the creed. Does not this" and Philip pulled from his bosom the holy relic "does not thlc, and the message sent by it, prove our creed is true ? " 207 THE PHANTOM SHIP " I have thought much of it, Philip. At first it startled me almost into a belief; but even your own priests helped to un- deceive me. They would not answer you ; they would have left you to guide yourself ; the message and the holy word, and the wonderful signs given, were not in unison with their creed, and they halted. May I not halt if they did ? The relic may be as mystic, as powerful as you describe ; but the agencies may be false and wicked the power given to it may have fallen into wrong hands ; the power remains the same, but it is applied to uses not intended." "The power, Amine, can only be exercised by those who are friends to Him who died upon it." " Then is it no power at all ; or if a power, not half so great as that of the arch-neir.l ; for his can work for good and evil both. But on this point, dear Philip, we do not well agree, nor can we convince each other. You have been taught in one way, I another. That which our childhood has imbibed which has grown up with our growth, and strengthened with our years is not to be eradicated. I have seen my mother work great charms, and succeed. You have knelt to priests. I blame not you ! blame not, then, your Amine. We both mean well I trust, do well." " If a life of innocence and purity were all that were re- quired, my Amine would be sure of future bliss." "I think it is; and thinking so, it is my creed. There are many creeds : who shall say which is the true one ? And what matters it ? they all have the same end in view a future heaven." "True, Amine, true," replied Philip, pacing the cabin thoughtfully ; " and yet our priests say otherwise." " What is the basis of their creed, Philip ? " "Charity and goodwill." " Does charity condemn to eternal misery those who have never heard this creed who have lived and died worshipping the Great Being after their best endeavours, and little know- ledge ? " " No, surely." Amine made no further observations ; and Philip, after pacing for a few minutes in deep thought, walked out of the cabin. The Utrecht arrived at the Cape, watered, and proceeded 208 THE PHANTOM SHIP on her voyage, and after two months of difficult navigation, cast anchor off Gambroon. During this time Amine had been unceasing in her attempts to gain the goodwill of Schriften. She had often conversed with him on deck, and had done him every kindness, and had overcome that fear which his near approach had generally occasioned. Schriften gradually ap- peared mindful of this kindness, and at last to be pleased with Amine's company. To Philip he was at times civil and courteous, but not always ; but to Amine he was always deferent. His language was mystical she could not prevent his chuckling laugh, his occasional " He ! he ! " from breaking forth. But when they anchored at Gambroon, he was on such terms with her that he would occasionally come into the cabin ; and although he would not sit down, would talk to Amine for a few minutes, and then depart. While the vessel lay at anchor at Gambroon, Schriften one evening walked up to Amine, who was sitting on the poop. " Lady," said he, after a pause, "yon ship sails for your own country in a few days." "So I am told," replied Amine. " Will you take the advice of one who wishes you well ? Return in that vessel -go back to your own cottage, and stay there till your husband comes to you once more." " Why is this advice given ? " " Because I forebode danger nay, perhaps death, a cruel death to one I would not harm." "To me!" replied Amine, fixing her eyes upon Schriften, and meeting his piercing gaze. " Yes, to you. Some people can see into futurity further than others." " Not if they are mortal," replied Amine. " Yes, if they are mortal. But mortal or not, I do see that which I would avert. Tempt not destiny further." "Who can avert it ? If I take your counsel, still it was my destiny to take your counsel. If I take it not, still it was my destiny." "Well, then, avoid what threatens you." " I fear not, yet do I thank you. Tell me, Schriften, hast thou not thy fate some way interwoven with that of my hus- band ? I feel that thou hast." " Why think you so, lady ? " " For many reasons : twice you have summoned him twice 209 o THE PHANTOM SHIP have you been wrecked, and miraculously reappeared and recovered. You know, too, of his mission that is evident." " But proves nothing." " Yes ! it proves much ; for it proves that you know what was supposed to be known but to him alone." " It was known to you, and holy men debated on it," replied Schriften, with a sneer. " How knew you that, again ? " "He! he!" replied Schriften. "Forgive me, lady; I meant not to affront you." " You cannot deny that you are connected mysteriously and incomprehensibly with this mission of my husband's. Tell me, is it, as he believes, true and holy ? " " If he thinks that it is true and holy, it becomes so." " Why, then, do you appear his enemy ? " " K am not /its enemy, fair lady." " You are not his enemy. Why, then, did yon once attempt to deprive him of the mystic relic by which the mission is to be accomplished ? " " I would prevent his further search, for reasons which must not be told. Does that prove that I am his enemy ? Would it not be better that he should remain on shore with com]>etence and you, than be crossing the wild seas on this mad search? Without the relic it is not to be accomplished. It were a kindness, then, to take it from him." Amine answered not, for she was lost in thought. " Lady," continued Schriften, after a time, " I wish you well. For your husband I care not, yet do I wish him no harm. Now, hear me : if you wish for your future life to be one of ease and peace if you wish to remain long in this world with the husband of your choice, of your first and warmest love if you wish that he should die in his bed at a good old age, and that you should close his eyes, with children's tears lamenting, and their smiles reserved to cheer their mother all this I see, and can promise is in futurity, if you will take that relic from his bosom and give it up to me. But if you would that he should suffer more than man has ever suffered, [Kiss his whole life in doubt, anxiety, and pain, until the deep wave receive his corpse, then let him keep it. If you would that your own days be shortened, and yet those remaining be long in human siuTcrings - if you would be separated from him, and 210 THE PHANTOM SHIP die a cruel death then let him keep it. I can read futurity, and such must be the destiny of both. Lady, consider well ; 1 must leave you now. To-morrow I will have your answer." Schriften walked away and left Amine to her own reflections. For a long while she repeated to herself the conversation and denunciations of this man, whom she was now convinced was not of this world, and was in some way or another deeply connected with her husband's fate. " To me he wishes well ; no harm to my husband, and would prevent his search. Why would he ? that he will not tell. He has tempted me, tempted me most strangely. How easy 'twere to take the relic whilst Philip sleeps upon my bosom but how treacherous ! And yet a life of competence and ease, a smiling family, a good old age : what oflers to a fond and doting wife ! And if not, toil, anxiety, and a watery grave ; and for me ! Pshaw ! that's nothing. And yet to die separated from Philip, is that nothing? Oh no, the thought is dreadful. I do believe him. Yes, he has foretold the future, and told it truly. Could I persuade Philip? No! I know him well; he has vowed, and is not to be changed. And yet, if the relic were taken without his knowledge, he would not have to blame himself. Who then would he blame ? Could I deceive him ? I, the wife of his bosom, tell a lie ? No, no ! it must not be. Come what will, it is only destiny, and I am resigned. I would that Schriften had not spoken ! Alas ! we search into futurity, and then would fain retrace our steps, and wish we had remained in ignorance." "What makes you so pensive, Amine?" said Philip, who some time afterwards walked up to where she was seated. Amine replied not at first. " Shall I tell him all ? " thought she. "It is my only chance I will." Amine repeated the conversation between her and Schriften. Philip made no reply ; he sat down by Amine and took her hand. Amine dropped her head upon her husband's shoulder. " What think you, Amine ?" said Philip, after a time. " I could not steal your relic, Philip ; perhaps you'll give it to me." " And my father, Amine, my poor father his dreadful doom to be eternal ! He who appealed, was permitted to appeal to his son, that that dreadful doom might be averted. Does not the conversation of this man prove to you that my mission is 211 THE PHANTOM SHIP not false? Does not his knowledge of it strengthen all? Yet, why would he prevent it ? " continued Philip, musing. "Why, I cannot tell, Philip, but I would fain prevent it. I feel that he has power to read the future, and has read aright." " Be it so ; he has spoken, but not plainly. He has pro- mised 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, myall, 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 conver- sation 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 218 THE PHANTOM SHIP CHAPTER XXH J. HE 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 con- vulsion 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 gunnel 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 213 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 fore- sail, 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 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 atmo- sphere was of a murkv 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 \ost in one dark grey 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 sprang 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 211 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 tlrtit 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 re;,dy to catch at the repes of the other vessel and climb on board of her. Amine, who had been i-urprised at the noise on deck, had come out, and had taken Philip by the arm. "Trust to me the shock " said Philip. He said no more ; the cutwater of the stranger touched their sides ; one general cry was raised by the sailors of the ['free/it they sprang to catch at the rigging of the other vessel's bowsprit, which was now pointed between their masts they caught at nothing nothing there was no shock no concussion of the two vessels the stranger appeared to cleave through them her hull passed along in silence no cracking of timbers no falling of masts the foreyard pas-sed through their mainsail, yet the canvas was unrent the whole vessel appeared to cut through the Utrecht, yet left no trace of injury not fast, but slowly, as if she were really sawing through her by the heaving and tossing of the sea with her sharp prow. The stranger's forechains had passed their gunwale before Philip could recover himself. "Amine," cried he at last, "the Phantom Ship ! my father ! " The seamen of the Utrecht, more astonished by the marvel- lous result than by their former danger, threw themselves down upon deck ; some hastened below, some prayed, others were dumb with astonishment and fear. Amine appeared more calm than any, not excepting Philip ; she surveyed the vessel as it slowly forced its wav through ; she beheld the seamen on board of her coolly leaning over her gunwale, as if deriding the destruction they had occasioned ; she looked 215 THE PHANTOM SHIP for Vanderclecken himself, and on the poop of the vessel, with his trumpet under his arm, she beheld the image of her Philip the same hardy, strong build the same features about the same age apparently there could be no doubt it was the doomed Vanderdecken. "See, Philip," said she, "see your father!" "Even so Merciful Heaven! It is it is!" and Philip, overpowered by his feelings, sank upon deck. ' The vessel had now passed over the Utrecht ; the form of the elder Vanderdecken was seen to walk aft and look over the taffrail ; Amine perceived it to start and turn away sud- denly she looked down, and saw Schriften shaking his fist in defiance at the supernatural being. Again the Phantom Ship flew to leeward before the gale, and was soon lost in the mist ; but before that Amine had turned and perceived the situation of Philip. No one but herself and Schriften ap- peared able to act or move. She caught the pilot's eye, beckoned to him, and with his assistance Philip was led into the cabin. CHAPTER XXIII I HAVE then seen him," said Philip, after he had lain down on the sofa in the cabin for some minutes to recover himself, while Amine bent over him. " I have at last seen him, Amine ! Can you doubt now ? " " No, Philip, I have now no doubt," replied Amine mourn- fully ; "but take courage, Philip." " For myself, I want not courage but for you, Amine ; you know that his appearance portends a mischief that will surely come." " Let it come," replied Amine calmly ; " I have long been prepared for it, and so have you." " Yes, for myself ; but not for you." " You have been wrecked often, and have been saved then why should not I ? " " But the sufferings ! " "Those suffer least who have most courage to bear up against them. I am but a woman, weak and frail in body, but I trust I have that within me which will not make you 216 THE PHANTOM SHIP feel ashamed of Amine. No, Philip, you will have no wail- ing ; no expression of despair from A mine's lips ; if she can console you, she will ; if she can assist you, she will ; but come what may, if she cannot serve you, at least she will prove no burden to you." " Your presence in misfortune would unnerve me, Amine." " It shall not ; it shall add to your resolution. Let fate do its worst." " Depend upon it, Amine, that will be ere long." "Be it so," replied Amine; "but, Philip, it were as well you showed yourself on deck ; the men are frightened, and your absence will be observed." " You are right," said Philip ; and rising and embracing her, he left the cabin. " It is but too true, then," thought Amine. "Now to pre- pare for disaster and death ; the warning has come. I would I could know more. Oh ! mother, mother, look down upon thy child, and in a dream reveal the mystic arts which I have forgotten then should I know more; but I have promised Philip, that unless separated yes, that idea is worse than death, and I have a sad foreboding; my courage fails me only when I think of that ! " Philip, on his return to the deck, found the crew of the vessel in great consternation. Krantz himself appeared be- wildered he had not forgotten the appearance of the Phantom Ship off Desolation Harbour, and the vessels following her to their destruction. This second appearance, more awful than the former, quite unmanned him ; and when Philip came out of the cabin he was leaning in gloomy silence against the weather-bulkhead. " We shall never reach port again, sir," said he to Philip, as he came up to him. " Silence, silence ; the men may hear you." "It matters not; they think the same," replied Krantz. " But they are wrong," replied Philip, turning to the sea- men. " My lads ! that some disaster may happen to us, after the appearance of this vessel, is most probable. I have seen her before more than once, and disasters did then happen ; but here I am, alive and well, therefore it does not prove that we cannot escape as I have before done. We must do our best, and trust in Heaven. The gale is breaking fast, 217 THE PHANTOM SHIP and in a few hours we shall have fine weather. I have met this Phantom Ship before, and care not how often I meet it again. Mr. Krantz, get up the spirits the men have had hard work, and must be fatigued." The very prospect of obtaining liquor appeared to give courage to the men ; they hastened to obey the order, and the quantity served out was sufficient to give courage to the most fearful, and induce others to defy old Vanderdecken and his whole crew of imps. The next morning the weather was fine, the sea smooth, and the Utrecht went gaily on her voyage. Many flays of gentle breezes and favouring winds gradually wore off the panic occasioned by the supernatural appearance ; and, if not forgotten, it was referred to either in jest or with indifference. They now had run through the Straits of Malacca, and entered the Polynesian archipelago. Philip's orders were to refresh and call for instructions at the small island of Boton, then in possession of the Dutch. They arrived there in safety, and after remaining two days again sailed on their voyage, intending to make their passage between the Celebes and the island of Galago. The weather was still clear and the wind light ; they proceeded cautiously, on account of the reefs and currents, and with a careful watch for the piratical vessels which have for centuries infested those seas ; but they were not molested, and had gained well up among the islands to the north of Galago when it fell calm, and the vessel was borne to the eastward of it by the current. The calm lasted several days, and they could procure no anchorage ; at last they found themselves among the cluster of islands near to the northern coast of New Guinea. The anchor was dropped, and the sails furled for the night ; a drizzling small rain came on, the weather was thick, and watches were stationed in every part of the ship, that they might not be surprised by the pirate proas, for the current ran past the ship at the rate of eight or nine miles per hour, and these vessels, if hid among the islands, might sweep down upon them unperceived. It was twelve o'clock at night when Philip, who was in bed, was awakened by a shock ; he thought it might be a proa running alongside, and he started from his bed and ran out. He found Krantz, who hid been awakened by the same cause, runn'ng up u:i lr -ssed. Another shock succeeded; and 218 THE PHANTOM SHIP the ship careened to port. Philip then knew that the ship was on shore. The thickness of the night prevented them from ascertain- ing where they were, but the lead was thrown over the side, and they found that they were lying on shore on a sandbank, with not more than fourteen feet water on the deepest side, and that they were broadside on with a strong current pressing them farther up on the bank ; indeed, the current ran like a mill-race, and each minute they were swept into shallow water. On examination they found that the ship had dragged her anchor, which, with the cable, was still taut from the star- board bow, but this did not appear to prevent the vessel from being swept farther up on the bank. It was supposed that the anchor had parted at the shank, and another anchor was let go. Nothing more could be done till daybreak, and impatiently did they wait till the next morning. As the sun rose the mist cleared away, and they discovered that they were on shore on a sandbank, a small portion of which was above water, and round which the current ran with great impetuosity. About three miles from them was a cluster of small islands with cocoa-trees growing on them, but with no appearance of inhabitants. " I fear we have little chance," observed Krantz to Philip. " If we lighten the vessel, the anchor may not hold, and we shall be swept farther on, and it is impossible to lay out an anchor against the force of this current." "At all events we must try ; but I grant that our situation is anything but satisfactory. Send all the hands aft." The men came aft, gloomy and dispirited. "My lads," said Philip, "why are you disheartened?" "We are doomed, sir; we knew it would be so." "I thought it probable that the ship would be lost I told you so ; but the loss of the ship does not involve that of the ship's company nay, it does not follow that the ship is to be lost, although she may be in great difficulty, as she is at present. What fear is there for us, my men ? the waiter is smooth we have plenty of time before us we can make a raft and take to our boats it never blows among these islands^ and we have land close under our lee. Let us first 2J9 THE PHANTOM SHIP try what we can do with the ship ; if we fail we must then take care of ourselves." The men caught at the idea and went to work willingly ; the water-casks were started, the pumps set going, and every- thing that could be spared was thrown over to lighten the ship ; but the anchor still dragged, from the strength of the current and bad holding-ground ; and Philip and Krantz ]>er- ceived that they were swept farther on the bank. Night came on before they quitted their toil, and then a fresh breeze sprang up and created a swell, which occasioned the vessel to beat on the hard sand ; thus did they continue until the next morning. At daylight the men resumed their labours, and the pumps were again manned to clear the vessel of the water wliich had been started, but after a time they pumped up sand. This told them that a plank had started, and that their labours were useless ; the men left their work, but Philip again encouraged them, and pointed out that they could easily save themselves, and all that they had to do was to construct a raft which would hold provisions for them, and receive that portion of the crew who could not be taken into the boats. After some repose the men again set to work ; the topsails were struck, the yards lowered down, and the raft was com- menced under the lee of the vessel, where the strong current was checked. Philip, recollecting his former disaster, took great pains in the construction of this raft, and aware that as the water and provisions were expended there would be no occasion to tow so heavy a mass, he constructed it in two parts which might easily be severed, and thus the boats would have less to tow, as soon as circumstances would enable them to part with one of them. Night again terminated their labours, and the men retired to rest, the weather continuing fine, with very little wind. By noon the next day the raft was complete ; water and provisions were safely stowed on board : a secure and dry place was fitted up for Amine in the centre of one portion ; spare ropes, sails, and everything which could prove useful, in case of their being forced on shore, were put in. Muskets and ammunition were also provided, and everything was ready, when the men came aft and pointed out to Philip that there was plenty of money pn board, which it was fol)y to leave, and that they wished tQ 220 THE PHANTOM SHIP carry as much as they could away with them. As this intima- tion was given in a way that made it evident they intended that it should be complied with, Philip did not refuse ; but resolved in his own mind, that when they arrived at a place where he could exercise his authority, the money should be reclaimed for the Company to whom it belonged. The men went down below, and while Philip was making arrangements with Amine, handed the casks of dollars out of the hold, broke them open and helped themselves quarrelling with each other for the first possession, as each cask was opened. At last every man had obtained as much as he could carry, and had placed his spoil on the raft with his baggage, or in the boat to which he had been appointed. All was now ready Amine was lowered down, and took her station- the boats took in tow the raft, which was cast off from the vessel, and away they went with the current, pulling with all their strength, to avoid being stranded upon that part of the sandbank which appeared above water. This was the great danger which they had to encounter, and which they very narrowly escaped. They numbered eighty-six souls in all : in the boats there were thirty-two ; the rest were on the raft, which being well built and full of timber, floated high out of the water, now that the sea was so smooth. It hud been agreed upon by Philip and Krantz that one of them should remain on the raft and the other in one of the boats ; but, at the time the raft quitted the ship, they were both on the raft, as they wished to consult, as soon as they discovered the direction of the current, which would be the most advisable course for them to pursue. It appeared, that as soon as the current had passed the bank, it took a more southerly direction towards New Guinea. It was then debated between them whether they should or should not land on that island, the natives of which were known to be pusillanimous, yet treacherous. A long debate ensued, which ended, however, in their resolving not to decide as yet, but wait and see what might occur. In the meantime the boats pulled to the westward, while the current set them fast down in a southerly direction. Night came on, and the boats dropped the grapnels with which they had been provided ; and Philip was glad to find that the current was not near so strong, and the grapnels 221 THE PHANTOM SHIP held both boats and raft. Covering themselves up with the spare sails with which they had provided themselves, and setting a watch, the tired seamen were soon fast asleep. "Had I not better remain in one of the boats?" observed Krantz. "Suppose, to save themselves, the boats were to leave the raft." "I have thought of that," replied Philip, "and have there- fore not allowed any provisions or water in the boats ; they will not leave us for that reason." " True, I had forgotten that." Krantz remained on watch, and Philip retired to the repose which he so much needed. Amine met him with open arms. " I have no fear, Philip," said she ; " I rather like this wild, adventurous change. We will go on shore and build our hut beneath the cocoa-trees, and I shall repine when the day comes which brings succour, and releases us from our desert isle. What do I require but you ?" " We are in the hands of One above, dear, who will act with us as He pleases. We have to be thankful that it is no worse," replied Philip. " But now to rest, for I shall soon be obliged to watch." The morning dawned with a smooth sea and a bright blue sky ; the raft had been borne to leeward of the cluster of unin- habited islands of which we spoke, and was now without hopes of reaching them; but to the westward were to be seen on the horizon the refracted heads and trunks of cocoa-nut trees, and in that direction it was resolved that they should tow the raft. The breakfast had been served out, and the men had taken to the oars, when they discovered a proa, full of men, sweeping after them from one of the islands to windward. That it was a pirate vessel there could be no doubt; but Philip and Krantz considered that their force was more than sufficient to repel them, should an attack be made. This was pointed out to the men ; arms were distributed to all in the boats, as well as to those on the raft ; and that the seamen might not be fatigued, they were ordered to lie on their oars and await the coming up of the vessel. As soon as the pirate was within range, having reconnoitred her antagonists, she ceased pulling, and commenced firing from a small piece of cannon, which was mounted on her bows. The grape and langrage which she poured upon them wounded THE PHANTOM SHIP . several of the men, although Philip had ordered them to lie down flat on the raft and in the boats. The pirate advanced nearer, and her fire became more destructive, without any opportunity of returning it by the Utrecht people. At last it was proposed, as the only chance of escape, that the boats should attack the pirate. This was agreed to by Philip; more men were sent in the boats ; Krantz took the command ; the raft was cast off, and the boats pulled away. But scarcely had they cleared the raft when, as by one sudden thought, they turned round and pulled away in the opposite direction. Krantz's voice was heard by Philip, and his sword was seen lo flash through the air; a moment afterwards he plunged into the sea, and swam to the raft. It appeared that the people in the boats, anxious to preserve the money which they had possession of, had agreed among themselves to pull away and leave the raft to its fate. The proposal for attacking the pirate had been suggested with that view, and as soon as they were clear of the raft they put their intentions into execution. In vain had Krantz expostulated and threatened ; they would have taken his life ; and when he found that his efforts were of no avail he leaped from the boat. "Then are we lost, I fear," said Philip. "Our numbers are so reduced, that we cannot hope to hold out long. What think you, Schriften?" ventured Philip, addressing the pilot, who stood near to him. " Lost but not lost by the pirates no harm there ! He! he!" The remark of Schriften was correct. The pirates, imagining that in taking to their boats the people had carried with them everything that was valuable, instead of firing at the raft, im- mediately gave chase to the boats. The sweeps were now out, and the proa flew over the smooth water, like a sea-bird, past the raft, and was at first evidently gaining on the boats ; but their speed soon slackened, and as the day passed, the boats and then the pirate vessel disappeared in the southward ; the distance between them being apparently much the same as at the commencement of the chase. The raft being now at the mercy of the wind and waves, Philip and Krantz collected the carpenter's tools which had been brought from the ship, and selecting two spars from the raft, they made every preparation for stepping a mast and setting sail by the next morning. 223 THE PHANTOM SHIP The morning dawned, and the first objects that met their view were the boats pulling back towards the raft, followed closely by the pirate. The men had pulled the whole night, and were worn out with fatigue. It was presumed that a con- sultation had been held, in which it was agreed that they should make a sweep, so as to return to the raft, as, if they gained it, they would be able to defend themselves, and moreover obtain provisions and water, which they had not on board at the time of their desertion. But it was fated otherwise : gradually the men dropped from their oars, exhausted, into the bottom of the boats, and the pirate vessel followed them with renewed ardour. The boats were captured one by one; the booty found was more than the pirates anticipated, and it hardly need be said that not one man was spared. All this took place within three miles of the raft, and Philip anticipated that the next movement of the vessel would be towards them, but he was mistaken. Satisfied with their booty, and imagining that there could be no more on the raft, the pirate pulled away to the eastward, towards the islands from amongst which she had first made her appearance. Thus were those who expected to escape, and who had deserted their companions, deservedly punished ; whilst those who anticipated every disaster from this desertion discovered that it was the cause of their being saved. The remaining people on board the raft amounted to about forty-five ; Philip, Krantz, Schriften, Amine, the two mates, sixteen seamen, and twenty-four soldiers, who had been em- barked at Amsterdam. Of provisions they had sufficient for three or four weeks; but of water they were very short, already not having sufficient for more than three days at the usual allowance. As soon as the mast had been stepped and rigged, and the sails set (although there was hardly a breath of wind), Philip explained to the men the necessity of reducing the quantity of water, and it was agreed that it should be served out so as to extend the supply to twelve days, the allowance being reduced to half a pint per day. There was a debate at this time, as the raft was in two parts, whether it would not be better to cast off the smaller one, and put all the people on board the other ; but this proposal was overruled, as, in the first place, although the boats had deserted them, the number on the raft had not much diminished, and, moreover, the raft would steer much better under sail, no\* THE PHANTOM SHIP that it had length, than it would do if they reduced its dimen- sions and altered its shape to a square mass of floating wood. For three days it was a calm, the sun poured down his hot beams upon them, and the want of water was severely felt ; those who continued to drink spirits suffered the most. On the fourth day the breeze sprang up favourably, and the sail was filled ; it was a relief to their burning brows and blistered backs ; and as the raft sailed on at the rate of four miles an hour, the men were gay and full of hope. The land below the cocoa-nut ti'ees was now distinguishable, and they anticipated that the next day they could land and procure the water which they now so craved for. All night they carried sail, but the next morning they discovered that the current was strong against them, and that what they gained when the breeze was fresh, they lost from the adverse current as soon as it went down ; the breeze was always fresh in the morning, but it fell calm in the evening. Thus did they continue for four days more, every noon being not ten miles from the land, but the next morning swept away to a distance, and having their ground to retrace. Eight days had now passed, and the men, worn out with the exposure to the burning sun, became discontented and mutinous. At one time they insisted that the raft should be divided, that they might gain the land with the other half; at another that the provisions which they could no longer eat should be thrown overboard to lighten the raft. The difficulty under which they lay was the having no anchor or grapnel to the raft, the boats having carried away with them all that had been taken from the ship. Philip then proposed to the men that, as every one of them had such a quantity of dollars, the money should be sewed up in canvas bags, each man's property separate ; and that with this weight to the ropes they would probably be enabled to hold the raft against the current for one night, when they would be able the next day to gain the shore ; but this was refused they would not risk their money. No, no fools ! they would sooner part with their lives by the most miserable of all deaths. Again and again was this proposed to them by Philip and Krantz, but without success. In the meantime, Amine had kept up her courage and her spirits, proving to Philip a valuable adviser and a comforter in his misfortunes. " Cheer up, Philip," would she say ; " we 225 p THE PHANTOM SHIP shall yet build our cottage under the shade of those cocoa-nut trees, and pass a portion, if not the remainder, of our lives in peace ; for who indeed is there who would think to find us in these desolate and untrodden regions ? " Schriften was quiet and well behaved ; talked much with Amine, but with nobody else. Indeed, he appeared to have a stronger feeling in favour of Amine than he had ever shown before. He watched over her and attended her ; and Amine would often look up after being silent, and perceive Schriften's face wear an air of pity and melancholy which she had believed it impossible that he could have exhibited. Another day passed; again they neared the land, and again did the breeze die away, and they were swept back by the current. The men now arose, and in spite of the endeavours of Philip and Krantz, they rolled into the sea all the provisions and stores, everything but one cask of spirits and the re- maining stock of water; they then sat down at the upper end of the raft with gloomv, threatening looks, and in close consultation. Another night closed in ; Philip was full of anxiety. Again he urged them to anchor with their money, but in vain ; they ordered him away, and he returned to the after-part of the raft, upon which A mine's secure retreat had been erected ; he leaned on it in deep thought and melancholy, for he imagined that Amine was asleep. " What disturbs you, Philip ? " " What disturbs me ? The avarice and folly of these men. They will die rather than risk their hateful money. They have the means of saving themselves and us, and they will not. There is weight enough in bullion on the fore part of the raft to hold a dozen floating masses such as this, yet they will not risk it. Cursed love of gold, it makes men fools, madmen, villains ! We have now but two days' water doled out as itis drop by drop. Look at their emaciated, broken-down, wasted forms, and yet see how they cling to money, which probably they will never have occasion for, even if they gain the land. I am distracted ! " "You suffer, Philip, you suffer from privation; but I have been careful ; I thought that this would come ; I have saved both water and biscuit I have here four bottles drink, Philip, and it will relieve you." 226 THE PHAN 7 TOM SHIP Philip drank ; it did relieve him, for the excitement of the day haJ pressed heavily on him. " Thanks, Amine thanks, dearest ; I feel better now. Good Heaven ! are they such fools as to value the dross of metal above one drop of water in a time of suffering and priva- tion such as this ? " The night closed in as before ; the stars shone bright, but there was no moon. Philip had risen at midnight to relieve Krantz from the steerage of the raft; Usually the men had lain about in every part of the raft, but this night the majority of them remained forward. Philip was communing with his own bitter thoughts, when he heard a scuffle forward, and the voice of Krantz crying out to him for help. He quitted the helm, and seizing his cutlass, ran forward, where he found Krantz down, and the men securing him. He fought his way to him, but was himself seized and disarmed. " Cut away cut away ! " was called out by those who held him ; and in a few seconds Philip had the misery to behold the after-part of the raft, with Amine upon it, drifted apart from the one 011 which he stood. " For mercy's sake ! my wife my Amine for Heaven's sake, save her ! " cried Philip, struggling in vain to disengage himself. Amine also, who had run to the side of the raft, held out her arms it was in vain they were separated more than a cable's length. Philip made one more desperate struggle, and then fell down deprived of sense and motion. CHAPTER XXIV IT was not until the day had dawned that Philip opened his eyes and discovered Krantz kneeling at his side ; at first his thoughts were scattered and confused ; he felt that some dreadful calamity had happened to him, but he could not recall to mind what it was. At last it rushed upon him, and he buried his face in his hands. "Take comfort," said Krantz; "we shall probably gain the shore to-day, and we will go in search of her as soon as we can." "This, then, is the separation and the cruel death to he* 227 THE PHANTOM SHIP which that wretch Schriften prophesied to us," thought Philip; "cruel, indeed, to waste away to a skeleton, under a burning sun, without one drop of water left to cool her parched tongue; at the mercy of the winds and waves ; drifting about alone all alone separated from her husband, in whose arms she- would have died without regret ; maddened with suspense and with the thoughts of what I may be suffering, or what may have been my fate. Pilot, you are right ; there can be no more cruel death to a fond and doting wife. Oh ! my head reels ! What has Philip Vanderdecken to live for now ? " Krantz offered such consolation as his friendship could suggest, but in vain. He then talked of revenge, and Philip raised his head. ' After a few minutes' thought, he rose up. " Yes," replied he, " revenge ! revenge upon those dastards and traitors ! Tell me, Krantz, how many can we trust ? " "Half of the men, I should think, at least. It was a surprise." A spar had been fitted as a rudder, and the raft had now gained nearer the shore than it ever had done before. The men were in high spirits at the prospect, and every man was sitting on his own store of dollars, which, in their eyes, in- creased in value in proportion as did their prospect of escape. Philip discovered from Krantz that it was the soldiers and the most indifferent seamen who had mutinied on the night before, and cut away the other raft ; and that all the best men had remained neuter. " And so they will be now, I imagine," continued Krantz ; " the prospect of gaining the shore has, in a manner, reconciled them to the treachery of their companions." "Probably," replied Philip, with a bitter laugh; "but I know what will rouse them. Send them here to me." Philip talked to the. seamen whom Krantz had sent over to him. He pointed out to them that the other men were traitors not to be reliad upon ; that they would sacrifice everything and everybody for their own gain ; that they had already done so for money, and that they themselves would have no security, either on the raft or on shore, with such people ; that they dare not sleep for fear of having their throats cut, and that it were better at once to get rid of those who could not be true to each other ; that it would facilitate their escape, and that tliey could divide between themselves the money which thQ 228 THE PHANTOM SHIP others had secured, and by which they would double theif own shares. That it had been his intention, although he had said nothing, to enforce the restoration of the money for the benefit of the Company, as sooit as they had gained a civilised port, where the authorities could interfere ; but that, if they consented to join and aid him, he would now give them the whole of it for their own use. What will not the desire of gain effect ? Is it, therefore, to be wondered at, that these men, who were indeed but little better than those who were thus, in his desire of retaliation, denounced by Philip, consented to his proposal ? It was agreed that if they did not gain the shore the others should be attacked that very night, and tossed into the sea. But the consultation with Philip had put the other party on the alert ; they, too, held counsel, and kept their arms by their sides. As the breeze died away, they were not two miles from the land, and once more they drifted back into the ocean. Philip's mind was borne down with grief at the loss of Amine ; but it recovered to a certain degree when he thought of revenge : that feeling stayed him up, and he often felt the edge of his cutlass, impatient for the moment of retribution. It was a lovely night ; the sea was now smooth as glass, and not a breath of air moved in the heavens ; the sail of the raft hung listless down the mast, and was reflected upon the calm surface by the brilliancy of the starry night alone. It was a night, for contemplation for examination of one's self, and adoration of the Deity ; and here, on a frail raft, were huddled together more than forty beings, ready for combat, for murder, and for spoil. Each party pretended to repose ; yet each were quietly watching the motions of the other, with their hands upon their weapons. The signal was to be given by Philip ; it was, to let go the halyards of the yard, so that the sail should fall down upon a portion of the other party, and entangle them. By Philip's directions, Schriften had taken the helm and Krantz remained by his side. The yard and sail fell clattering down, and then the work of death commenced ; there was no parley, no suspense ; each man started upon his feet and raised his sword. The voices of Philip and of Krantz alone were heard, and Philip's sword did its work. He was nerved to his revenge, and never could be satiated as long as one remained who had sacrificed his AminQ. 229 THE PHANTOM SHIP As Philip had expected, many had been covered up and en- tangled by the falling of the sail, and their work was thereby made easier. Some fell where they stood : others reeled back, and sank down under the smooth water ; others were pierced as they floundered under the canvas. In a few minutes the work of carnage was complete. Schriften meanwhile looked on, and ever and anon gave vent to his chuckling laugh his demoniacal " He ! he ! " The strife was over, and Philip stood against the mast to recover his breath. "So far art thou avenged, my Amine," thought he ; " but oh ! what are these paltry lives compared to thine?" And now that his revenge was satiated, and he could do no more, he covered his face up in his hands, and wept bitterly, while those who had assisted him were already collecting the money of the slain for distribution. These men, when they found that three only of their side had fallen, lamented that there had not been more, as their own shares of the dollars had been increased. There were now but thirteen men, besides Philip, Krantz, and Schriften, left upon the raft. As the day dawned the breeze again sprang up and they shared out the portions of water, which would have been the allowance of their com- panions who had fallen. Hunger they felt not, but the water revived their spirits. Although Philip had had little to say to Schriften since the separation from Amine, it was very evident to him and to Krantz that all the pilot's former bitter feelings had returned. His chuckle, his sarcasms, his "He! he!" were incessant; and his eye was now as maliciously directed to Philip as it was when they first met. It was evident that Amine alone had for the time conquered his disposition ; and that with her disappearance had vanished all the goodwill of Schriften towards her husband. For this Philip cared little ; he had a much more serious weight on his heart the loss of his dear Amine ; and he felt reckless and indifferent concerning any- thing else. The breeze now freshened, and they expected that in two hours they would run on the beach, but they were disap- pointed ; the step of the mast gave way from the force of the wind, and the sail fell upon the raft. This occasioned great 230 THE PHANTOM SHIP delay ; and before they could repair the mischief, the wind again subsided, and they were left about a mile from the beach. Tired and worn out with his feelings, Philip at last fell asleep by the side of Krantz, leaving Schriften at the helm. He slept soundly he dreamt of Amine he thought she was under a grove of cocoa-nuts, in a sweet sleep ; that he stood by and watched her, and that she smiled in her sleep, and murmured " Philip," when suddenly he was awakened by some unusual movement. Half dreaming still, he thought that Schriften, the pilot, had in his sleep been attempting to gain his relic, had passed the chain over his head, and was removing quietly from underneath his neck the portion of the chain which, in his reclining posture, he lay upon. Startled at the idea, he threw up his hand to seize the arm of the wretch, and found that he had really seized hold of Schriften, who was kneeling by him, and in possession of the chain and relic. The struggle was short, the relic was recovered, and the pilot lay at the mercy of Philip, who held him down with his knee on his chest. Philip replaced the relic on his bosom, and, excited to madness, rose from the body of the now breathless Schriften, caught it in his arms, and hurled it into the sea. " Man or devil ! I care not which," exclaimed Philip, breathless ; " escape now, if you can ! " The struggle had already roused up Krantz and others, but not in time to prevent Philip from wreaking his vengeance upon Schriften. In a few words, he told Krantz what had passed ; as for the men, they cared not ; they laid their heads down again, and, satisfied that their money was safe, inquired no further. Philip watched to see if Schriften would rise up again, and try to regain the raft ; but he did not make his appearance above water, and Philip felt satisfied. CHAPTER XXV WHAT pen could portray the feelings of the fond and doting Amine, when she first discovered that she was separ- ated from her husband ? In a state of bewilderment, she Watched the other raft as the distance between them m- 231 THE PHANTOM SHIP creased. At last the shades of night hid it from her aching eyes, and she dropped down in mute despair. Gradually she recovered herself, and turning round, she exclaimed, " Who's here ?" No answer. "Who's here?" cried she in a louder voice; "alone- alone and Philip gone ! Mother, mother, look down upon your unhappy child ! " and Amine frantically threw herself down so near to the edge of the raft, that her long hair, which had fallen down, floated on the wave. " Ah me ! where am I ? " cried Amine, after remaining in a state of torpor for some hours. The sun glared fiercely upon her, and dazzled her eyes as she opened them she cast them on the blue wave close by her, and beheld a large shark motionless by the side of the raft, waiting for his prey. Recoiling from the edge, she started up. She turned round, and beheld the raft vacant, and the truth flashed on her. " Oh ! Philip, Philip ! " cried she, " then it is true, and you are gone for ever ! I thought it was only a dream : I recollect all now. Yes all all ! " And Amine sank down again upon her cot, which had been placed in the centre of the raft, and remained motionless for some time. But the demand for water became imperious ; she seized one of the bottles, and drank. " Yet why should I drink or eat? Why should I wish to preserve life?" She- rose, and looked round the horizon. " Sky and water, nothing more. Is this the death I am to die the cruel death prophesied by Schriften a lingering death under a burning sun, while my vitals are parched within ? Be it so ! Fate, I dare thee to thy worst we can die but once and without him, what care I to live ? But yet I may see him again," continued Amine, hurriedly after a pause. " Yes, I may who knows ? Then welcome life; I'll nurse thee for that bare hope bare indeed, with naught to feed on. Let me see is it here still?" Amine looked at her zone, and perceived her dagger was still in it. " Well, then, I will live since death is at my command, and be guard ful of life for my dear husband's sake." And Amine threw herself on her rest- ing-place that she might forget everything. She did : from that morning till the noon of the next day she remained in a state of torpor. 232 THE PHANTOM SHIP When she again rose, she was faint ; again she looked round her there was but sky and water to be seen. " Oh, this solitude ! it is horrible ! death would be a release but no, I must not die I must live for Philip." She refreshed herself with water and a few pieces of biscuit, and folded her arms across her breast. " A few more days without relief, and all must be over. Was ever woman situated as I am, and yet I dare to indulge hope ? Why, 'tis madness ! And why am I thus singled out : because I have wedded with Philip ? It may be so ; if so, I welcome it. Wretches ! who thus severed me from my husband ; who, to save their own lives, sacrificed a helpless woman ! Nay, they might have saved me', if they had had the least pity ; but no, they never felt it. And these are Christians ! The creed that the old priests would have had me yes, that Philip would have had me embrace. Charity and goodwill ! They talk of it, but I have never seen them practise it ! Loving one another ! forgiving one another ! say rather hating and preying upon one another ! A creed never prac- tised : why, if not practised, of what value is it ? Any creed were better I abjure it, and if I be saved, will abjure it still for ever. Shade of my mother ! is it that I have listened to these men that I have, to win my husband's love, tried to forget that which thou taughtest, even when a child at thy feet that faith which our forefathers for thousands of years lived and died in that creed proved by works, and obedience to the prophet's will is it for this that I am punished ? Tell me, mother oh ! tell me in my dreams." The night closed in, and with the gloom rose heavy clouds ; the lightning darted through the firmament, ever and anon lighting up tlie raft At last, the flashes were so rapid, not following each other, but darting down from every quarter at once, that the whole firmament appeared as if on fire, and the thunder rolled along the heavens, now near and loud, then rumbling in the distance. The breeze rose up fresh, and the waves tossed the raft, and washed occasionally even to Amine's feet, as she stood in the centre of it. " I like this this is far better than that calm and withering heat this rouses me," said Amine, as she cast her eyes up, and watched the forked lightning till her vision became obscured. " Yes, this is as it should be. Lightning, strike 233 THE PHANTOM SHIP me if you please waves, wash me off and bury me in a briny tomb pour the wrath of the whole elements upon this devoted head I care not, I laugh at, I defy it all. Thou canst but kill ; this little steel can do as much. Let those who hoard up wealth those who live in splendotiii those that are happy those who have husbands, children, aught to love let them tremble ; I have nothing. Elements ! be ye fire, or water, or earth, or air, Amine defies you ! And yet no, no, deceive not thyself. Amine, there is no hope ; thus will I mount my funeral bier, and wait the will of destiny." And Amine regained the secure place which Philip had fitted up for her in the centre of the raft, threw herself down upon her bed, and shut her eyes. The thunder and lightning was followed up by torrents of heavy rain, which fell till daylight ; the wind still continued fresh, but the sky cleared, and the sun shone out. Amine remained shivering in her wet garments: the heat of the sun proved too powerful for her exhausted state, and her brain wandered. She rose up in a sitting posture, looked around her, saw verdant fields in every direction, the cocoa- nuts waving to the wind imagined even that she saw her own Philip in the distance hastening to her ; he held out her arms ; strove to get up, and run to meet him, but her limbs refused their office ; she called to him, she screamed, and sank back exhausted on her resting-place. CHAPTER XXVI VV E must for a time return to Philip, and follow his strange destiny. A few hours after he had thrown the pilot into the sea, they gained the shore, so long looked at with anxiety and suspense. The spars of the raft, jerked by the running swell, undulated and rubbed against each other as they rose and fell to the waves breaking on the beach. The breeze was fresh, but the surf was trifling, and the landing was without diffi- culty. The beach was shelving, of firm white sand, inter- cpersed and strewed with various brilliant-coloured shells ; and here and there the bleached fragments and bones of some animal which had been forced out of its element to 234, THE PHANTOM SHIP die. The island was, like all the others, covered with a thick wood of cocoa-nut trees, whose tops waved to the breeze, or bowed to the blast, producing a shade and a freshness which would have been duly appreciated by any other party than the present, with the exception ouly of Krantz ; for Philip thought of nothing but his lost wife, and the seamen thought of nothing but their sudden wealth. Krantz supported Philip to the beach, and led him to the shade ; but after a minute he rose, and running down to the nearest point, looked anxiously for the portion of the raft which held Amine, which was now far, far away. Krantz had followed, aware that, now the first paroxysms were past, there was no fear of Philip's throwing away his life. " Gone, gone for ever ! " exclaimed Philip, pressing his hands to the balls of his eyes. " Not so, Philip ; the same Providence which has preserved us will certainly assist her. It is impossible that she can perish among so many islands, many of which are inhabited ; and a woman will be certain of kind treatment. ' " If I could only think so," replied Philip. " A little reflection may induce you to think that it is rather an advantage than otherwise that she is thus separated not from you, but from so many lawless companions whose united force we could not resist. Do you think that, after any lengthened sojourn on this island, these people with us would permit you to remain in quiet possession of your wife ? No ! they would respect no laws ; and Amine has, in my opinion, been miraculously preserved from shame and ill-treatment, if not from death." " They durst not, surely ! Well, but, Krantz, we must make a raft and follow her; we must not remain here I will seek her through the wide world." "Be it so, if you wish, Philip, and I will follow your fortunes," replied Krantz, glad to find that there was some- thing, however wild the idea, for his mind to feed on. " But now let us return to the raft, seek the refreshment we so much require, and after that we will consider what may be the best plan to pursue." To this Philip, who was much exhausted, tacitly consented, and he followed Krantz to where the raft had been beached. The men had left it, and were each of them sitting apart from 235 THE PHANTOM SHIP one another under the shade of his own chosen cocoa-nut tree. The articles which had been saved on the raft had not been landed, and Krantz called upon them to come and carry the things on shore but no one would answer to obey. They each sat watching their money, and afraid to leave it, lest they should be dispossessed of it by the others. Now that their lives were, comparatively speaking, safe, the demon of avarice had taken full possession of their souls ; there they sat, ex- hausted, pining for water, and longing for sleep, and yet they dared not move, they were fixed as if by the wand of the enchanter. " It is the cursed dollars which have turned their brains," observed Krantz to Philip ; " let us try if we cannot manage to remove what we most stand in need of, and then we will search for water." Philip and Krantz collected the carpenter's tools, the best arms, and all the ammunition, as the possession of the latter would give them an advantage in case of necessity ; they then dragged on shore the sail and some small spars, all of which they carried up to a clump of cocoa-nut trees, about a hundred yards from the beach. In half-an-hour they had erected an humble tent, and put into it what they had brought with them, with the exception of the major part of the ammunition, which, as soon as he was screened by the tent, Krantz buried in a heap of dry sand behind it ; he then, for their immediate wants, cut down with an axe a small cocoa-nut tree in full bearing. It must be for those who have suffered the agony of prolonged thirst, to know the extreme pleasure with which the milk of the nuts was one after the other poured down the parched throats of Krantz and Philip. The men witnessed their enjoyment in silence, and with gloating eyes. Every time that a fresh cocoa-nut was seized and its contents quaffed by their officers, more sharp and agonising was their own devouring thirst still closer did their dry lips glue themselves together yet they moved not, although they felt the tortures of the condemned. Evening closed in; Philip had thrown himself down on the spare sails, and had fallen asleep, when Krantz set off to explore the island upon which they had been thrown. It was small, not exceeding three miles in length, and at no one part more than five hundred yards across. Water there was 36 THE PHANTOM SHIP none, unless it were to be obtained by digging; fortunately, the young cocoa-nuts prevented the absolute necessity for it. On his return, Krantz passed the men in their respective stations. Each was awake, and raised himself on his elbow to ascertain if it were an assailant ; but, perceiving Krantz, they again dropped down. Krantz passed the raft the water was now quite smooth, for the wind had shifted off shore, and the spars which com posed the raft hardly jostled each other. He stepped upon it, and, as the moon was bright in the heavens, he took the precaution of collecting all the arms which had been left, and throwing them as far as he could into the sea. He then walked to the tent, where he found Philip still sleeping soundly, and in a few minutes he was reposing by his side. And Philip's dreams were of Amine ; he thought that he saw the hated Schriften rise again from the waters, and, climbing up to the raft, seat himself by her side. He thought that he again heard his unearthly chuckle and his scornful laugh, as his unwelcome words fell upon her distracted ears. He thought that she fled into the sea to avoid Schriften, and that the waters appeared to reject her she floated on the surface. The storm rose, and once more he beheld her in the sea-shell skimming over the waves. Again, she was in a furious surf on the beach, and her shell sank, and she was buried in the waves ; and then he saw her walking on shore without fear and without harm, for the water which spared no one appeared to spare her. Philip tried to join her, but was prevented by some unknown power, and Amine waved her hand and said, " We shall meet again, Philip ; yes, once more on this earth shall we meet again." The sun was high in the heavens and scorching in his heat, when Krantz first opened his eyes, and awakened Philip. The axe again procured for them their morning's meal. Philip was silent ; he was ruminating upon his dreams, which had afforded him consolation. " We shall meet again!" thought he. " Yes, once more at least we shall meet again. Providence ! I thank Thee." Krantz then stepped out to ascertain the condition of the i*ien. He found them faint, and so exhausted that they could not possibly survive much longer, yet still watching over their darling treasure. It was melancholy to witness Such perversion of intellect, and Krantz thought of a plan 237 THE PHANTOM SHIP which might save their lives. He proposed to each of them separately that they should bury their money so deep that it was not to be recovered without time ; this would prevent any one from attacking the treasure of the other, without its being perceived and the attempt frustrated, and would enable them to obtain their necessary food and refreshment without danger of being robbed. To this plan they acceded. Krantz brought out of the tent the only shovel in their possession, and they, one by one, buried their dollars many feet deep in the yielding sand. When they had all secured their wealth, he brought them one of the axes, and the cocoa-nut trees fell, and they were restored to new life and vigour. Having satiated themselves, they then lay down upon the several spots under which they had buried their dollars, and were soon enjoying that repose which they all so much needed. Philip and Krantz had now many serious consultations as to the means which should be taken for quitting the island, and going in search of Amine ; for although Krantz thought the latter part of Philip's proposal useless, he did not venture to say so. To quit this island was necessary ; and provided they gained one of those which were inhabited, it was all that they could expect. As for Amine, he considered that she was dead before this, either having been washed off the raft, or that her body was lying on it exposed to the decomposing heat of a torrid sun. To cheer Philip he expressed himself otherwise ; and when, ever they talked about leaving the island, it was not to save their own lives, but invariably to search after Philip's lost wife. The plan which they projKised and acted upon was, to con- struct a light raft, the centre to be composed of three water- casks, sawed in half, in a row behind each other, firmly fixed by cross pieces to two long spars on each side. This, under sail, would move quickly through the water, and be manage- able so as to enable them to steer a course. The outside spars had been selected and hauled on shore, and the work was already in progress; but they were left alone in their work, for the seamen appeared to have no idea at present of quitting the island. Restored by food and repose, they were now not content with the money which they had they were anxious for more. A portion of each party's wealth had been 238 THE PHANTOM SHIP dug up, and they now gambled all day with pebbles, which they had collected on the beach, and with which they had invented a game. Another evil had crept among them ; they had cut steps in the largest cocoa-nut trees, and with the activity of seamen had mounted them, and by tapping the top of the trees, and fixing empty cocoa-nuts underneath, had obtained the liquor, which in its first fermentation is termed toddy, and is afterwards distilled into arrack. But as toddy it is quite sufficient to intoxicate ; and every day the scenes of violence and intoxication, accompanied with oaths and execrations, became more and more dreadful. The losers tore their hair, and rushed like madmen upon those who had gained their dollars ; but Krantz had fortunately tin-own their weapons into the sea, and those he had saved, as well as the ammunition, he had secreted. Blows and bloodshed, therefore, were continued, but loss of life there was none, as the contending parties were separated by the others, who were anxious that the play should not be interrupted. Such had been the state of affairs for now nearly a fortnight, while the work of the raft had slowly proceeded. Some of the men had lost their all, and had, by the general consent of those who had won their wealth, been banished to a certain distance, that they might not pilfer from them. These walked gloomily round the island, or on the beach, seeking some instrument by which they might avenge them- selves, and obtain repossession of their money. Krantz and Philip had proposed to these men to join them and leave the island, but they had sullenly refused. The axe was now never parted with by Krantz. He cut down what cocoa-nut trees they required for subsistence, and prevented the men from' notching more trees to procure the means of inebriation. On the sixteenth day all the money had passed into the hands of three men, who had been more fortunate than the rest. The losers were now by far the more numerous party, and the consequence was, that the next morn- ing these three men were found lying strangled on the beach; the money had been re-divided, and the gambling had re- commenced with more vigour than ever. " How can this end ? " exclaimed Philip to Krantz, as he looked upon the blackened countenances of the murdered men. 239 THE PHANTOM SHIP "In the death of all," replied Krantz. "We cannot pre- rent it. It is a judgment." The raft was now ready ; the sand had been dug from beneath it so as to allow the water to flow in and float it, and it was now made fast to a stake, and riding on the peaceful waters. A large store of cocoa-nuts, old and young, had been procured and put on board of her, and it was the intention of Philip and Krantz to have quitted the island the next day. Unfortunately, one of the men when bathing had per- ceived the arms lying in the shallow water. He had dived down and procured a cutlass: others had followed his example, and all had armed themselves. This induced Philip and Krantz to sleep on board of the raft and keep watch ; and that night, as the play was going on, a heavy loss on one side ended in a general fray. The combat was furious, for all were more or less excited by intoxication. The result was melancholy, for only three were left alive. Philip, with Krantz, watched the issue; every man who fell wounded was put to the sword, and the three left, who had been fighting on the same side, rested panting on their weapons. After a pause two of them communicated with each other, and the result was an attack upon the third man, who fell dead beneath their blows. " Merciful Father ! are these Thy creatures ? " exclaimed Philip. " No," replied Krantz, " they worshipped the devil as Mammon. Do you imagine that those two, who could now divide more wealth than they could well spend if they return to their country, will consent to a division ? Never they must have all yes, all ! " Krantz had hardly expressed his opinion, when one of the men, taking advantage of the other turning round a moment from him, passed his sword through his back. The man fell with a groan, and the sword was again jwissed through his body. "Said I not so? But the treacherous villain shall not reap his reward," continued Krantz, levelling the musket which ho held in his hand, and shooting him dead. " You have done wrong, Krantz ; you have saved him from the punishment he deserved. Left alone on the island, with- out the means of obtaining his subsistence, be must have perished miserably and by inches, with all his money round him ; that would have been torture indeed ! " 240 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Perhaps I was wrong. If so, may Providence forgive me, I could not help it. Let us go ashore, for we are now on this island alone. We must collect the treasure and bury it, so that it may be recovered ; and, at the same time, take a portion with us ; for who knows but that we may have occasion for it. To-morrow we had better remain here, for we shall have enough to do in burying the bodies of these infatuated men, and the wealth which has caused their destruction." Philip agreed to the propriety of the suggestion. The next day they buried the bodies where they lay ; and the treasure was all collected in a deep trench, under a cocoa-nut tree, which they carefully marked with their axe. About five hundred pieces of gold were selected and taken on board of the raft, with the intention of secreting them about their persons, and resorting to them in case of need. The following morning they hoisted their sail and quitted the island. Need it be said in what direction they steered ? As may be well imagined, in that quarter where they had last seen the raft with the isolated Amine. CHAPTER XXVII J HE raft was found to answer well, and although her progress through the water was not very rapid, she obeyed the helm and was under command. Both Philip and Krantz were very careful in taking such marks and observations of the island as should enable them, if necessary, to find it again. With the current to assist them they now proceeded rapidly to the southward, in order that they might examine a large island which lay in that direction. Their object, after seek- ing for Amine, was to find out the direction of Ternate ; the king of which they knew to be at variance with the Portuguese, who had a fort and factory at Tidore, not very far distant from it ; and from thence to obtain a passage in one of the Chinese junks, which, on their way to Bantam, called at that island. Towards evening they had neared the large island, and thev soon ran down it close to the beach. Philip's eyes wandered in cvory direction to ascertain whether anything on the shore 24-1 S THE PHANTOM SHIP indicated the presence of Amine's raft, but he could perceive nothing of the kind, nor did he see any inhabitants. That they might not pass the object of their search during the night, they ran their raft on shore, in a small cove where the waters were quite smooth, and remained there until the next morning, when they again made sail and prosecuted their voyage. Krantz was steering with the long sweep they had fitted for the purpose, when he observed Philip, who had been for some time silent, take from his breast the relic which he wore, and gaze attentively upon it. "Is that your picture, Philip?" observed Krantz. "Alas! no, it is my destiny," replied Philip, answering without reflection. " Your destiny ! What mean you ? " " Did I say my destiny ? I hardly know what I said," replied Philip, replacing the relic in his bosom. "I rather think you said more than you intended," replied Krantz ; " but at the same time something near the truth. I have often perceived you' with that trinket in your hand, and I have not forgotten how anxious Schriften was to obtain it, and the consequences of his attempt upon it. Is there not some secret some mystery attached to it ? Surely, if so, you must now sufficiently know me as your friend to feel me worthy of your confidence." " That you are my friend, Krantz, I feel ; my sincere and much-valued friend, for we have shared much danger together, and that is sufficient to make us friends ; that I could trust you, I believe, but I feel as if I dare not trust any one. There is a mystery attached to this relic (for a relic it is), which as yet has been confided to my wife and holy men alone." "And if trusted to holy men, surely it may be trusted to sincere friendship, than which nothing is more holy." " But I have a presentiment that the knowledge of my secret would prove fatal to you. Why I feel such a presenti- ment I know not ; but I feel it, Krantz ; and I cannot afford to lose you, my valued friend." " You will not, then, make use of my friendship, it appears," replied Krantz. " I have risked my life with you before now, and I am not to be deterred from the duties of friendship by a childish foreboding on your part, the result of an agitated juind and a weakened body, Can anything be more absurd than 242 THE PHANTOM SHIP to suppose that a secret confided to me can be pregnant with danger, unless it be, indeed, that my zeal to assist you may lead me into difficulties. 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 goodwill to- wards 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 con- cluded. " 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 vour 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 yotn doom on my own shoulders, were it only possible. Is it not a splendid thought that you are summoned to so great a 243 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 hard- ships and dangers of a maritime life. If it end in your death, what then ? Where else ends our futile cravings, our con- tinual 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 per- mitted. 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 ! \Vhat 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 214, THE PHANTOM SHIP pcroquas 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 ad- dressed 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 Portu- guese, 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 Ticlore 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! ToTidore, 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 con- sequence. His dress was, to a certain degree, Mohammedan, 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 how 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 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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/' re- plied 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. How lucky that we should all be saved ! He ! he ! " " The ocean has then, indeed, given up its dead, as I re- quested," thought Philip. In the meantime, Schriften, without making any reference to the way in which they had so unceremoniously parted company, addressed Krantz with apparent good-humour, and some slight tinge of sarcasm. It was some time before Krantz could rid himself of him. " What think you of him, Krantz ? " " That he is a part of the whole, and has his destiny to fulfil as well as you. He has his part to play in this wondrous mystery, and will remain until it is finished. Think not of him. Recollect your Amine is safe." " True," replied Philip, " the wretch is not worth a thought; we have now nothing to do but to embark with these people : hereafter we may rid ourselves of him, and strive then to rejoin my dearest Amine." CHAPTER XXVIH YV HEN Amine again came to her senses she found herself lying on the leaves of the palmetto, in a small hut. A hideous black child sat by her, brushing off the flies. Where was she? The raft had been tossed about for two days, during which Amine remained in a state of alternate delirium and stupor. Driven by the current and the gale, it had been thrown on 246 THE PHANTOM SHIP shore on the eastern end of the coast of New Guinea. She had been discovered by some of the natives, who happened to be on the beach, trafficking with some of the Tidore people. At first they hastened to rid her of her garments, although they perceived that she was not dead ; but before they had left her as naked as themselves, a diamond of great value, which had been given to her by Philip, attracted the attention of one of the savages : failing in his attempt to pull it off, he pulled out a rusty, blunt knife, and was busily sawing at the finger when an old woman of authority inter- fered and bade him desist. The Tidore people also, who were friends with the Portuguese, pointed out that to save one of that nation would insure a reward ; they stated, moreover, that they would, on their return, inform the people of the factory establishment that one of their country- women had been thrown ashore on a raft. To this Amine owed the care and attention that was paid to her ; that part of New Guinea being somewhat civilised by occasional inter- course with the Tidore people, who came there to exchange European finery and trash for the more useful productions of the island. The Papoose woman carried Amine into her hut, and there she lay for many days, wavering between life and death, care- fully attended, but requiring little, except the moistening of her parched lips with water, and the brushing off of the mosquitoes and flies. When Amine opened her eyes, the little Papoose ran out to acquaint the woman, who followed her into the hut. She was of large size, very corpulent and unwieldy, with little covering on her body ; her hair, which was woolly in its texture, was partly plaited, partly frizzled ; a cloth round her waist and a piece of faded yellow silk on her shoulders were all her dress. A few silver rings on her fat fingers, and a necklace of mother- of-pearl, were her ornaments. Her teeth were jet black, from the use of the betel-nut, and her whole appearance was such as to excite disgust in the breast of Amine. She addressed Amine, but her words were unintelligible : and the sufferer, exhausted with the slight effort she had made, fell back into her former position, and closed her eyes. But if the woman was disgusting, she was kind ; and by her attention and care Axine was able, in the course of three weeks, to 247 THE PHANTOM SHIP crawl out of the hut and enjoy the evening breeze. The natives of the island would at times surround her, but they treated her with respect, from fear of the old woman. Their woolly hair was frizzled or plaited, sometimes powdered white with chunam. A few palmetto-leaves round the waist and descending to the knee were their only attire ; rings through the nose and ears, and feathers of birds, particularly the bird of paradise, were their ornaments ; but their language was wholly unintelligible. Amine felt grateful for life ; she sat under the shade of the trees, and watched the swift peroquas as they skimmed the blue sea which was expanded before her ; but her thoughts were elsewhere they were on Philip. One morning Amine came out of the hut, with joy on her countenance, and took her usual seat under the trees. " Yes, mother, dearest mother, I thank thee ; thou hast appeared to me ; thou hast recalled to me thy arts, which I had forgotten, and had I but the means of conversing with these people, even now would I know where my Philip might be." For two months did Amine remain under the care of the Papoose woman. When the Tidore people returned, they had an order to bring the white woman who had been cast on shore to the factory, and repay those who had taken charge of her. They made signs to Amine, who had now quite recovered her beauty, that she was to go with them. Any change was pre- ferable to staying where she was, and Amine followed them down to a peroqua, on which she was securely fixed, and was soon darting through the water with her new companions; and, as they flew along the smooth seas, Amine thought of Philip's dream and the mermaid's shell. By the evening they had arrived at the southern point of Galolo, where they landed for the night : the next clay they gained the place of their destination, and Amine was led up to the Portuguese factory. That the curiosity of those who were stationed there was roused is not to be wondered at the history given by the natives of Amine's escape appeared so miraculous. From the commandant to the lowest servant, every one was waiting to receive her. The beauty of Amine, her perfect form, astonished them. The commandant addressed a very long compliment to her in Portuguese, and was astonished that she did not make SM THE PHANTOM SHIP ft suitable reply ; but as Amine did not understand a word that he said, it would have been more surprising if she had. As Amine made signs that she could not understand the language, it was presumed that she was either English or Dutch, and an interpreter was sent for. She then explained that she was the wife of a Dutch captain, whose vessel had been wrecked, and that she did not know whether the crew had been saved or not. The Portuguese were very glad to hear that a Dutch vessel had been wrecked, and very glad that so lovely a creature as Amine had been saved. She was informed by the commandant that she was welcome, and that during her stay there everything should be done to make her comfortable; that in three months they expected a vessel from the Chinese seas proceeding to Goa, and that, if inclined, she should have a passage to Goa in that vessel, and from that city she would easily find other vessels to take her wherever she might please to go ; she was then conducted to an apartment, and left with a little negress to attend upon her. The Portuguese commandant was a small, meagre little man, dried up to a chip, from long sojourning under a tropical sun. He had very large whiskers and a very long sword ; these were the two most remarkable features in his person and dress. His attentions could not be misinterpreted ; and Amine would have laughed at him, had she not been fearful that she might be detained. In a few weeks, by due attention, she gained the Portuguese language so far as to ask for what she required ; and before she quitted the island of Tidore she could converse fluently. But her anxiety to leave, and to ascertain what had become of Philip, became greater eveiy day ; and at the expiration of the three months her eyes were continually bent to seaward, to catch the first glimpse of the vessel which was expected. At last it appeared ; and as Amine watched the approach of the canvas from the west, the commandant fell on his knees, and declaring his passion, requested her not to think of departure, but to unite her fate with his. Amine was cautious in her reply, for she knew that she was in his power. " She must first receive intelligence of her husband's death, which was not yet certain ; she would pro- ceed to Goa, and if she discovered that she was single, she Would write to him." This answer, as it will be discovered, was the cause of great 849 THE PHANTOM SHIP suffering to Philip. The commandant, full}' assured that he could compass Philip's death, was satisfied ; declared that, as soon as he had any positive intelligence, he would bring it to Goa himself, and made a thousand protestations of truth and fidelity. " Fool ! " thought Amine, as she watched the ship, which was now close to the anchorage. In half-an-hour the vessel had anchored, and the people had landed. Amine observed a priest with them as they walked up to the fort. She shuddered she knew not why. When they arrived, she found herself in the presence of Father Mathias. CHAPTER XXIX BOTH Amine and Father Mathias started, and drew back with surprise at this unexpected meeting. Amine was the first to extend her hand ; she had almost forgotten at the moment how they had parted, in the pleasure she experienced in meeting with a well-known face. Father Mathias coldly took her hand, and laying his own upon her head, said, " May God bless thee, and forgive thee, my daughter, as I have long done." Then the recollection of what had passed rushed into Amine's mind, and she coloured deeply. Had Father Mathias forgiven her ? The event would show ; but this is certain, he now treated her as an old friend, listened with interest to her history of the wreck, and agreed with her upon the propriety of her accompanying him to Goa. In a few days the vessel sailed, and Amine quitted the factory and its enamoured commandant. They ran through the archipelago in safety, and were crossing the mouth of the Bay of Bengal, without having had any interruption of fine weather. Father Mathias had returned to Lisbon when he quitted Ternicore, and, tired of idleness, had again volunteered to proceed as a missionary to India. He had arrived at Formosa, and, shortly after his arrival, had received directions from his superior to return, on important business, to Goa; and thus it? was that he fell in with Amine at Tidore. 50 THE PHANTOM SHIP It would be difficult to analyse the feelings of Father Mathias towards Aniine ; they varied so often. At one moment he would call to mind the kindness shown to him by her and Philip, the regard he had for the husband, and the many good qualities which he acknowledged that she possessed ; and noro he would recollect the disgrace, the unmerited disgrace, he had suffered through her means ; and he would then canvass whether she really did believe him an intruder in her chamber for other motives than those which actuated him, or whether she had taken advantage of his indiscretion. These accounts were nearly balanced in his mind ; he could have forgiven all if he had thought that Amine was a sincere convert to the Church ; but his strong conviction that she was not only an unbeliever, but that she practised forbidden arts, turned the scale against her. He watched her narrowly, and when, in her conversation, she showed any religious feeling his heart warmed towards her ; but when, on the contrary, any words escaped her lips which seemed to show that she thought lightly of his creed, then the full tide of indignation and vengeance poured into his bosom. It was in crossing the Bay of Bengal, to pass round the southern cape of Ceylon, that they first met with bad weather; and when the storm increased, the superstitious seamen lighted candles before the small image of the saint which was shrined on deck. Amine observed it, and smiled with scorn ; and as she did so, almost unwittingly, she perceived that the eye of Father Mathias was earnestly fixed upon her. "The Papooses I have just left do no worse than worship their idols, and are termed idolaters," muttered Amine. " What then are these Christians ? " Would you not be better below ? " said Father Mathias, coming over to Amine. " This is no time for women to be on deck ; they would be better employed in offering up prayers for safety." " Nay, father, I can pray better here. I like this conflict of the elements; and as I view, I bow down in admiration of the Deity who rules the storm who sends the winds forth in their wrath, or soothes them into peace." "It is well said, my child," replied Father Mathias; "but the Almighty is not only to be worshipped in His works, but in the closet, with meditation, self-examination, and faith. THE PHANTOM SHIP Hast thou followed up the precepts which thou hast been taught ? hast thou reverenced the sublime mysteries which have been unfolded to thee ? " " I have done my best, father," replied Amine, turning away her head, and watching the rolling wave. "Hast thou called upon the Holy Virgin, and upon the saints those intercessors for mortals erring like thyself?" Amine made no answer ; she did not wish to irritate the priest, neither would she tell an untruth. " Answer me, child," continued the priest, with severity. " Father," replied Amine, " I have appealed to God alone the God of the Christians the God of the whole universe ! " "Who believes not everything believes nothing, young woman. I thought as much ! I saw thee smile with scorn just now. Why didst thou smile ? " " At my own thoughts, good father." " Say rather at the true faith shown by others." ^Vmine made no answer. "Thou art an unbeliever and a heretic. Beware, young woman ! beware ! " " Beware of what, good father ? Why should I beware ? Are there not millions in these climes more unbelieving and more heretic, perhaps, than I ? How many have you converted to your faith ? What trouble, what toil, what dangers have you not undergone to propagate that creed ; arid why do you succeed so ill ? Shall I tell you, father ? It is because the people have already had a creed of their own a creed taught to them from their infancy and- acknowledged by all who live about them. Am I not in the same position ? I was brought up in another creed ; and can you expect that that can be dis- missed, 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 godlike : 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 tQ and adore." 889 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 had 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 : 253 THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 naught to live for. Were Philip here, why, then indeed but he has 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, sink- ing 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 254, THE PHANTOM SHIP 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 pre- dicted, 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 W E 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 care- fully watched, and that they should dispense with his com- pany as soon as possible. Krantz had interrogated him as to his escape, and Schriften had informed him, in his usual sneering manner, that one of the sweeps of the raft had been allowed to get adrift during the scuffle, and that he had floated on it, until he had gained a small island ; that on 255 THE PHANTOM SHIP seeing the peroqua, he had once more launched it, and sup- ported himself by it, until he was perceived and picked up. As there was nothing impossible, although much of the improbable, in this account, Krantz asked no more questions. The next morning, the wind having abated, they launched the peroqua, and made sail for the island of Ternate. It was four days before they arrived, as every night they landed and hauled up their craft on the sandy beach. Philip's heart was relieved at the knowledge of Amine's safety, and he could have been happy at the prospect of again meeting her, had he not been so constantly fretted by the company of Sch rif ten. There was something so strange, so contrary to human nature, that the little man, though diabolical as he appeared to be in his disposition, should never hint at, or complain of, Philip's attempts upon his life. Had he complained had he accused Philip of murder had he vowed vengeance, and de- manded justice on his return to the authorities, it had been different ; but no there he was, making his uncalled-for and impertinent observations with his eternal chuckle and sar- casm, as if he had not the least cause of anger or ill-will. As soon as they arrived at the principal port and town of Ternate, they were conducted to a large cabin, built of pal- metto-leaves and bamboo, and requested not to leave it until their arrival had been announced to the king. The peculiar courtesy and good breeding of these islanders were the con- stant themes of remark of Philip and Krantz ; their religion, as well as their dress, appeared to be a compound of the Mohammedan and Malayan. After a few hours, they were summoned to attend the audience of the king, held in the open air. The king was seated under a portico, attended by a numerous concourse of priests and soldiers. There was much company but little splendour. All who were about the king were robed in white, with white turbans, but he himself was without orna- ment. The first thing that struck Philip and Krantz, when they were ushered into the presence of the king, was the beautiful cleanliness which everywhere prevailed ; every dress was spotless and white as the sun could bleach it. Having followed the example of those who introduced them, and saluted the king after the Mohammedan custom, they were 256 THE PHANTOM SHIP requested to be seated ; and through the Portuguese inter- preters for the former communication of the islanders with the Portuguese who had been driven from the place, made the Portuguese language well known by many a few questions were put by the king, who bade them welcome, and then requested to know how they were wrecked. Philip entered into a short detail, in which he stated that his wife had been separated from him, and was, he under- stood, in the hands of the Portuguese factor at Tidore. He requested to know if his majesty could assist him in obtaining her release, or in going to join her. " It is well said," replied the king. " Let refreshments be brought in for the strangers, and the audience be broken up." In a few minutes there remained of all the court but two or three of the king's confidential friends and advisers ; and a collation of curries, fish, and a variety of other dishes was served up. After it was over, the king then said, " The Portuguese are dogs, they are our enemies will you assist us to fight them ? We have large guns, but do not under- stand the use of them as well as you do. I will send a fleet against the Portuguese at Tidore, if you will assist me. Say, Hollanders, will you fight ? You," addressing Philip, " will then recover your wife." " I will give an answer to you to-morrow," replied Philip ; " I must consult with my friend. As I told you before, I was the captain of the ship, and this was my second in com- mand we will consult together." Schriften, whom Philip had represented as a common seaman, had not been brought up into the presence of the king. " It is good," replied the king ; " to-morrow we will expect your reply." Philip and Krantz took their leave, and on their return to the cabin, found that the king had sent them, as a present, two complete Mohammedan dresses, with turbans. These were welcome, for their own garments were sanly tattered, and very unfit for exposure to the burning sun of those climes. Their peaked hats, too, collected the rays of heat, which were intolerable ; and they gladly exchanged them for the white turban. Secreting their money in the Malayan sash, which formed a part of the attire, they soon robed themselves in 257 R THE PHANTOM SHIP the native garments, the comfort of which was immediately acknowledged. After a long consultation it was decided that they should accept the terms offered by the king, as this was the only feasible way by which Philip could hope to re- obtain possession of Amine. Their consent was communicated to the king on the following day, and every preparation was made for the expedition. And now was to be beheld a scene of bustle and activity. Hundreds and hundreds of peroquas of every dimension, floating close to the beach, side by side, formed a raft extend- ing nearly half a mile on the smooth water of the bay, teeming with men, who were equipping them for the service : some were fitting the sails ; others were carpentering where required ; the major portion were sharpening their swords and preparing the deadly poison of the pine-apple for their creezes. The beach was a scene of confusion : water in jars, bags of rice, vegetables, salt-fish, fowls in coops were everywhere strewed about among the armed natives, who were obeying the orders of the chiefs, who themselves walked up and down, dressed in their gayest apparel, and glittering in their arms and ornaments. The king had six long brass four- pounders, a present from an Indian captain ; these, with a propor- tionate quantity of shot and cartridges, were (under the direction of Philip and Krantz) fitted on some of the largest peroquas, and some of the natives were instructed how to use them. At first the king, who fully expected the re- duction of the Portuguese fort, stated his determination to go in person ; but in this he was overruled by his confidential advisers, and by the request of Philip, who could not allow him to expose his valuable life. In ten days all was ready, and the fleet, manned by seven thousand men, made sail for the island of Tidore.^ It was a beautiful sight to behold the blue rippling sea, covered with nearly six hundred of these picturesque craft, all under sail, and darting through the water like dolphins in pursuit of prey : all crowded with natives, whose white dresses formed a lively contrast with the deep blue of the water. The large peroquas, in which were Philip and Krantz, with the native commanders, were gaily decorated with streamers and pennons of all colours, that flowed out and snapped with the fresh breeze. It aopeared rather to 258 THE PHANTOM SHIP be an expedition of mirth and merriment than one which was proceeding to bloodshed and slaughter. On the evening of the second day they had made the island of Tidore, and run down to within a few miles of the Portuguese factory and fort. The natives of the country, who disliked though they feared to disobey the Portuguese, had quitted their huts near the beach, and retired into the woods. The fleet, therefore, anchored and lay near the beach, without molestation, during the night. The next morning Philip and Krantz proceeded to reconnoitre. The fort and factory of Tidore were built upon the same principle as almost all the Portuguese defences in those seas. An outer fortification, consisting of a ditch with strong pali- sades embedded in masonry, surrounded the factory and all the houses of the establishment. The gates of the outer wall were open all day for ingress and egress, and closed only ut night. On the seaward side of this enclosure was what may be termed the citadel, or real fortification ; it was built of solid masonry, with parapets, was surrounded by a deep ditch, and was only accessible by a drawbridge, mounted with cannon on every side. Its real strength, however, could not be well perceived, as it was hidden by the high palisading which sur- rounded the whole establishment. After a careful survey, Philip recommended that the large peroquas with the cannon should attack by sea, while the men of the small vessels should land and surround the fort, taking advantage of every shelter which was afforded them to cover themselves while they harassed the enemy with their matchlocks, arrows, and spears. This plan having been approved of, one hundred and fifty peroquas made sail ; the others were hauled on the beach, and the men belonging to them proceeded by land. But the Portuguese had been warned of their approach, and were fully prepared to receive them ; the guns mounted to the seaward were of heavy calibre and well served. The guns of the peroquas. though rendered as effectual as they could be, under the direction of Philip, were small, and did little damage to the thick stone front of the fort. After an engagement of four hours, during which the Ternate people lost a great number of men, the peroquas, by the advice of Philip and Krantz, hauled off, and returned to where the remainder of the fleet was stationed ; and another council of war was 209 THE PHANTOM SHIP held. The force which had surrounded the fort on the land side, was, however, not withdrawn, as it cut off any supplies or assistance ; and at the same time occasionally brought down any of the Portuguese who might expose themselves a point of no small importance, as Philip well knew, with a garrison so small as that in the fort. That they could not take the fort by means of their cannon was evident ; on the sea side it was for them impregnable ; their efforts must now be directed to the land. Krantz, after the native chiefs had done speaking, advised that they should wait until dark, and then proceed to the attack in the follow- ing way. When the breeze set along shore, which it would do in the evening, he proposed that the men should prepare large bundles of dry palmetto and cocoa-nut leaves ; that they should carry their bundles and stack them against the pali- sades to windward, and then set fire to them. They would thus burn down the palisades, and gain an entrance into the outer fortification ; after which they could ascertain in what manner they should next proceed. This advice was too judicious not to be followed. All the men who had not matchlocks were set to collect fagots; a large quantity of dry wood was soon got together, and before night they were ready for the second attack. The white dresses of the Ternates were laid aside : with nothing on them but their belts, and scimitars, and creezes, and blue under-drawers, they silently crept up to the palisades, there deposited their fagots, and then again returned, again to perform the same journey. As the breastwork of fagots in- creased, so did they more boldly walk up, until the pile was completed ; they then, with a loud shout, fired it in several places. The flames mounted, the cannon of the fort roared, and many fell under the discharges of grape and hand-grenade. But stifled by the smoke, which poured in volumes upon them, the people in the fort were soon compelled to quit the ram- parts to avoid suffocation. The palisades were on fire, and the flames mounting in the air, swept over, and began to attack the factory and houses. No resistance was now offered, and the Ternates tore down the burning palisades, and forced their way into the entrenchment, and with their scimitars and creezes put to death all who had been so unfortunate as not to take refuge in the citadel. These were chiefly native servants. THE PHANTOM SHIP whom the attack had surprised, and for whose lives the Portuguese seemed to care but little, for they paid no atten- tion to their cries to lower the drawbridge and admit them into the fort. The factory, built of stone, and all the other houses were on fire, and the island was lighted up for miles. The smoke had cleared away, and the defences of the fort were now plainly visible in the broad glare of the flames. " If we had scaling-ladders," cried Philip, " the fort would be ours ; there is not a soul on the ramparts." " True, true," replied Krantz, " but even as it is, the factory walls will prove an advantageous post for us after the fire is extinguished ; if we occupy it, we can prevent them showing themselves while the ladders are constructing. To-morrow night we may have them ready, and having first smoked the fort with a few more fagots, we may afterwards mount the walls and carry the place." " That will do," replied Philip, as he walked away. He then joined the native chiefs, who were collected together outside of the entrenchment, and communicated to them his plans. When he had made known his views, and the chiefs had assented to them, Schriften, who had come with the ex- pedition unknown to Philip, made his appearance. " That won't do ; you'll never take that fort, Philip Vander- decken. He ! he ! " cried Schriften. Hardly had he said the words, when a tremendous explosion took place, and the air was filled with large stones, which flew and fell in every direction, killing and maiming hundreds. It was the factory which had blown up, for in its vaults there was a large quantity of gunpowder, to which the fire had communicated. " So ends that scheme, Mynheer Vanderdecken. He ! he ! " screamed Schriften ; " you'll never take that fort." The loss of life and confusion caused by this unexpected result occasioned a panic, and all the Ternate people fled down to the beach where their peroquas were lying. It was in vain that Philip and their chiefs attempted to rally them. Unaccustomed to the terrible effects of gun- powder in any large quantities, they believed that something supernatural had occurred, and many of them jumped into the peroquas and made sail, while the remainder were con- THE PHANTOM SHIP fused, trembling, and panting, all huddled together on the beach. "You'll never take that fort, Mynheer Vanderdecken," screamed the well-known voice. Philip raised his sword to cleave the little man in two, but he let it fall again. " I fear he tells an unwelcome truth," thought Philip, but why should I take his life for that ? " Some few of the Ternate chiefs still kept up their courage, but the major part were as much alarmed as their people. After some consultation it was agreed that the army should remain where it was till the next morning, when they should finally decide what to do. When the day dawned, now that the Portuguese fort was no longer surrounded by the other buildings, they perceived that it was more formidable than they had at first supposed. The ramparts were filled with men, and they were bringing cannon to bear on the Ternate forces. Philip had a consulta- tion with Krantz, and both acknowledged that, with the present panic, nothing more could be done. The chiefs were of the same opinion, and orders were given for the return of the expedition ; indeed, the Ternate chiefs were fully satisfied with their success: they had destroyed the large fort, the factory, and all the Portuguese buildings ; a small fortification only was uninjured ; that was built of stone, and inaccessible, and they knew that the report of what had been done would be taken and acknowledged by the king as a great victory. The order was, therefore, given for embarkation, and in two hours the whole fleet, after a loss of about seven hundred men, was again on its way to Ternate. Krantz and Philip this time embarked in the same peroqua, that they might have the pleasure of each other's conversation. They had not, however, sailed above three hours, when it fell calm, and towards the evening there was every prospect of bad weather. When the breeze again sprang up it was from an adverse quarter, but these vessels steer so close to the wind that this was disregarded ; by midnight, however, the wind had in- creased to a gale, and before they were clear of the NE. headland of Tidore it blew a hurricane, and many were washed off into the sea from the different craft, and those who could not swim sank and were drowned. The sails were lov/cred, THE PHANTOM SHIP and the vessels lay at the mercy of the wind and waves, every sea washing over them. The fleet was drifting fast on the shore, and before morning dawned, the vessel in which were Philip and Krantz was among the rollers on the beach off the northern end of the island. In a short time she was dashed to pieces, and every one had to look out for himself. Philip and Krantz laid hold of one fragment, and were sup- ported by it till they gained the shore ; here they found about thirty more companions, who had suffered the same fate as themselves. When the day dawned they perceived that the major part of the fleet had weathered the point, and that those who had not would, in all probability, escape, as the wind had moderated. The Ternate people proposed that, as they were well armed, they should, as soon as the weather moderated, launch some of the craft belonging to the islanders, and join the fleet ; but Philip, who had been consulting with Krantz, considered this a good opportunity for ascertaining the fate of Amine. As the Portuguese could prove nothing against them, they could either deny that they had been among the assailants, or might plead that they had been forced to join them. At all risks Philip was determined to remain, and Krantz agreed to share his fate ; and seeming to agree with them, they allowed the Ternate people to walk to the Tidore peroquas, and while they were launching them Philip and Krantz fell back into the jungle and disappeared. The Portuguese had perceived the wreck of their enemies, and, irritated by the loss they had sustained, they had ordered the people of the island to go out and capture all who were driven on shore. Now that they were no longer assailed, the Tidore people obeyed them, and very soon fell in with Philip and Krantz, who had quietly sat down under the shade of a large tree, waiting the issue. They were led away to the fort, where they arrived at night- fall. They were ushered into the presence of the com- mandant, the same little man who had made love to Amine, and as they were dressed in Mussulman's attire, he was about to order them to be hung, when Philip told him that they were Dutchmen, who had been wrecked, and forced by the king of Ternate to join his expedition ; that they had taken the earliest opportunity of escaping, as was very evident, since those who had been thrown on shore with them had THE PHANTOM SHIP got off in the island boats, while they chose to remain. Whereupon the little Portuguese commandant struck his sword firm down on the pavement of the ramparts, looked very big, and then ordered them to prison for further exa- mination. CHAPTER XXXI As every one descants upon the want of comfort in a prison, it is to be presumed that there are no very comfortable ones. Certainly that to which Philip and Krantz were ushered had anything rather than the air of an agreeable residence. It was under the fort, with a very small aperture, looking towards the sea, for light and air. It was very hot, and moreover destitute of all those little conveniences which add so much to one's happiness in modern houses and hotels. In fact, it consisted of four bare walls and a stone floor, and that was all. Philip, who wished to make some inquiries relative to Amine, addressed, in Portuguese, the soldier who brought them down. " My good friend, I beg your pardon " " I beg yours," replied the soldier, going out of the door, and locking them in. Philip leant gloomily against the wall ; Krantz, more mercurial, walked up and down, three steps each way and turn. "Do you know what I am thinking of?" observed Krantz, after a pause in his walk. " It is very fortunate that (lowering his voice) we have all our doubloons about us ; if they don't search us, we may get away by bribing." " And I was thinking," replied Philip, " that I would sooner be here than in company with that wretch Schriften, whose sight is poison to me." " I did not much admire the appearance of the commandant; but I suppose we shall know more to-morrow." Here they were interrupted by the turning of the key and the entrance of a soldier with a chatty of water and a large dish of boiled rice. He was not the man who had brought them to the dungeon, and Philip accosted him. "You have had hard work within these last two days?" 264 THE PHANTOM SHIP "Yes, indeed, signer." " The natives forced us to join the expedition, and we escaped." " So I heard you say, signor." " They lost nearly a thousand men," said Krantz. " Holy St. Francis ! I am glad of it." "They will be careful how they attack Portuguese in a hurry, I expect," rejoined Krantz. " I think so," replied the soldier. " Did you lose many men ? " ventured Philip, perceiving that the man was loquacious. " Not 4;en of our own people. In the factory there were about a hundred of the natives, with some women and chil- dren ; but that is of no consequence." " You had a young European woman here, I understand," said Philip, with anxiety; "one who was wrecked in a vessel - was she among those who were lost ?" "Young woman! Holy St. Francis. Yes, now I recollect. Why, the fact is " Pedro ! " called a voice from above ; the man stopped, put his fingers to his lips, went out, and locked the door. "God of Heaven, give me patience!" cried Philip; "but this is too trying." " He will be down here again to-morrow morning," observed Krantz. " Yes ! to-morrow morning ; but what an endless time will suspense make of the intervening hours ! " " I feel for you," replied Krantz ; "but what can be done ? The hours must pass, though suspense draws them out into interminable years ; but I hear footsteps." Again the door was unlocked, and the first soldier made his appearance. " Follow me the commandant would speak with you." This unexpected summons was cheerfully complied with by Philip and his companion. They walked up the narrow Stone steps, and at last found themselves in a small room in presence of the commandant, with whom our readers have been already made acquainted. He was lolling on a small sofa, his long sword lay on the table before him, and two young native women were fanning him, one at his head, and the other at his feet. 265 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Where did you get those dresses ? " was the first inter- rogatory. "The natives, when they brought us prisoners from the island on which we saved ourselves, took away our clothes, and! gave us these as a present from their king." " And engaged you to serve in their fleet, in the attack on this fort?" "They forced us," replied Krantz ; "for as there was no war between our nations, we objected to this service : notwithstanding which, they put us on board, to make the common people believe that they were assisted by Europeans." " How am I to know the truth of this ?" " You have our word in the first place, and our escape from them in the second." " You belonged to a Dutch East-Indiaman. Are you officers or common seamen ? " Krantz, who considered that they were less likely to be detained if they concealed their rank on board, gave Philip a slight touch with his finger, as he replied, " We are inferior officers. I was third mate and this man was pilot" " And your captain, where is he ? " " I I cannot say whether he is alive or dead." " Had you no woman on board ? " " Yes ! the captain had his wife." " What has become of her ? " " She is supposed to have perished on a portion of the raft which broke adrift" " Ha ! " replied the commandant, who remained silent for some time. Philip looked at Krantz, as much as to say, "Why all this subterfuge ? " But Krantz gave him a signal to leave him to speak. " You say you don't know whether your captain is alive or dead ? " " I do." " Now, suppose I was to give you your liberty, would you have any objection to sign a paper, stating his death, and swearing to the truth of it ? " Philip stared at the commandant, and then at Krantz. " I see no objection, exactly ; except that if it were sent 266 THE PHANTOM SHIP home to Holland we might get into trouble. May I ask, Signer Commandant, why you wish for sucli a paper ? " " No ! " roared the little man, in a voice like thunder. " I will give no reason, but that I wish it ; that is enough ; take your choice the dungeon, or liberty and a passage by the first vessel that calls." " I don't doubt in fact I'm sure, he must be dead by this time," replied Krantz, drawling out the words in a musing manner. " Commandant, will you give us till to-morrow morning to make our calculations ? " " Yes, you may go." " But not to the dungeon, commandant," replied Krantz : " we are not prisoners, certainly ; and if you wish us to do you a favour, surely you will not ill-treat us ? " '" By your own acknowledgment you have taken up arms against the most Christian king; however, you may remain at liberty for the night to-morrow morning will decide whether or no you are prisoners." Philip and Krantz thanked the little commandant for his kindness, and then hastened away to the ramparts. It was now dark, and the moon had not yet made her appearance. They sat there on the parapet, enjoying the breeze, and feeling the delight of liberty even after their short incarcera- tion ; but, near to them, soldiers were either standing or lying, and they spoke but in whispers. " What could he mean by requiring us to give a certificate of the captain's death ; and why did you answer as you did ? " " Philip Vanderdecken, that I have often thought of the fate of your beautiful wife, you may imagine ; and when I heard that she was brought here I trembled for her. What must she appear, lovely as she is, when placed in comparison with the women of this country ? And that little commandant is he not the very person who would be taken with her charms ? I denied our condition, because I thought he would be more likely to allow us our liberty as humble individuals than as captain and first mate ; particularly as he suspects that we led on the Ternate people to the attack ; and when he asked for a certificate of your death, I immediately imagined that he wanted it in order to induce Amine to marry him. But where is she ? is the question. If we could only find out that soldier, we might gain some information." 267 THE PHANTOM SHIP " Depend upon it, she is here," replied Philip, clenching his hands. " I am inclined to think so," said Krantz ; " that she is alive I feel assured." The conversation was continued until the moon rose, and threw her beams over the tumbling waters. Philip and Krantz turned their faces towards the sea, and leant over the battle- ments in silence; after some time their reveries were disturbed by a person coming up to them with a " Buenos nudes, sigtior." Krantz immediately recognised the Portuguese soldier, whose conversation with him had been interrupted. " Good night, my friend ! We thank Heaven that you have no longer to turn the key upon us." "Yes, I'm surprised!" replied the soldier, in a low tone. " Our commandant is fond of exercising his power ; he rules here without appeal, that I can tell you." " He is not within hearing of us now," replied Krantz. " It is a lovely spot this to live in ! How long have you been in this country ? " " Now thirteen years, signer, and I'm tired of it. I have a wife and children in Oporto that is, I had but whether they are alive or dead, who can tell ? " " Do you expect to return and see them ? " " Return, siguor! no Portuguese soldier like me ever returns. We are enlisted for five years, and we lay our bones here." " That is hart! indeed." " Hard, signer," replied the soldier in a low whisper ; " it is cruel and treacherous. I have often thought of putting the muzzle of my arquebuse to my head ; but while there's life there's hope." " I pity you, my good fellow," rejoined Krantz ; " look you, I have two gold pieces left take one ; you may be able to send it home to your poor wife." " And here is one of mine, too, my good fellow," added Philip, putting another in his hand. " Now, may all the saints preserve you, signers," replied the soldier, " for it is the first act of kindness shown to me for many years not that my wife and children have much chance of ever receiving it." " You were speaking about a young European woman when we were in the dungeon/ observed Krantz, after a pause. THE PHANTOM SHIP "Yes, signer, she was a very beautiful creature. Our commandant was very much in love with her." " Where is she now ? " "She went away to Goa, in company with a priest who knew her, Father Mathias, a good old man; he gave me absolution when he was here." " Father Mathias ! " exclaimed Philip ; but a touch from Krantz checked him. " You say the commandant loved her ? " " Oh yes : the little man was quite mad about her ; and had it not been for the arrival of Father Mathias, he would never have let her go, that I'm sure of, although she was another man's wife." " Sailed for Goa, you said ? " n Yes, in a ship which called here. She must have been very glad to. have got away, for our little commandant perse- cuted her all day long, and she evidently was grieving for her husband. Do you know, signers, if her husband is alive ? " " No, we do not ; we have heard nothing of him." " Well, if he is, I hope he will not come here ; for should the commandant have him in his power it would go hard with him. He is a man who sticks at nothing. He is a brave little fellow, that cannot be denied ; but to get possession of that lady, he would remove all obstacles at any risk and a husband is a very serious one, signors. Well, signors," continued the soldier, after a pause, " I had better not be seen here too long ; you may command me if you want anything ; recol- lect my name is Pedro good night to you, and a thousand thanks," and the soldier walked away. "We have made one friend, at all events," said Krantz, "and we have gained information of no little importance." " Most important," replied Philip. " Amine, then, lias sailed for Goa with Father Mathias ! I feel that she is safe, and in good hands. He is an excellent man, that Father Mathias my mind is relieved." " Yes, but recollect you are in the hands of your enemy. We must leave this place as quickly as we can to-morrow we must sign the paper. It is of little consequence, as we shall probably be at Goa before it arrives ; and even if we are not, the news of your ueath would not occasion Amine to marry this withered piece of mortality." 269 THE PHANTOM SHIP "That I feel assured of; but it may cause her great suffering." " Not worse than her present suspense, believe me, Philip ; but it is useless canvassing the past it must be done. I shall sign as Cornelius Richter our third mate ; you, as Jacob Van treat recollect that." "Agreed," replied Philip, who then turned away, as if will- ing to be left to his own thoughts. Krantz perceived it, and Jay down under the embrasure, and was soon fast asleep. CHAPTER XXXII TlRED out with the fatigue of the day before, Philip had laid himself down by Krantz and fallen asleep ; early the next morning he was awakened by the sound of the commandant's voice, and his long sword rattling as usual on the pavement. He rose, and found the little man rating the soldiers threat- ening some with the dungeons, others with extra duty. Krantz was also on his feet before the commandant had finished his morning's lecture. At last, perceiving them, in a stern voice he ordered them to follow him into his apart- ment. They did so, and the commandant, throwing himself upon his sofa, inquired whether they were ready to sign the required paper, or go back to the dungeon. Krantz replied that they had been calculating chances, and that they were, in consequence, so perfectly convinced of the death of their captain that they were willing to sign any paper to that effect ; at which reply the commandant immediately became very gracious, and having called for materials, he wrote out the document, which was duly subscribed to by Krantz and Philip. As soon as they had signed it, and he had it in his possession, the little man was so pleased that he requested them to par- take of his breakfast. During the repast, he promised that they should leave the island by the first opportunity. Although Philip was taciturn, yet, as Krantz made himself very agreeable, the commandant invited them to dinner. Krantz, as they became more familiar, informed him that they had each a few pieces of gold, and wished to be allowed a room where they could keep their 270 THE PHANTOM SHIP table. Whether it was the want of society, or the desire of obtaining the gold, probably both, the commandant offered that they should join his table, and pay their proportion of the expenses ; a proposal which was gladly acceded to. The terms were arranged, and Krantz insisted upon putting down the first week's payment in advance. From that moment the commandant was the best of friends with them, and did nothing but caress those whom he had so politely shoved into a dungeon below water. It was on the evening of the third day, as they were smoking their Manilla cheroots, that Krantz, perceiving the commandant in a peculiarly good humour, ventured to ask him why he was so anxious for a certificate of the captain's death ; and in reply was informed, much to the astonishment of Philip, that Amine had agreed to marry him upon his producing such a document. " Impossible ! " cried Philip, starting from his seat. . " Impossible, signor and why impossible ? " replied the commandant, curling his mustachios with his fingers, with a surprised and angry air. " I should have said impossible too, ' interrupted Krantz, who perceived the consequence of Philip's indiscretion, "for had you seen, commandant, how that woman doted upon her husband, how she fondled him, you would with us have said, it was impossible that she could have transferred her affections so soon ; but women are women, and soldiers have a great advantage over other people : perhaps she had some excuse, commandant. Here's your health, and success to you." " It is exactly what I would have said," added Philip, acting upon Krantz's plan ; " but she has a great excuse, commandant, when I recollect her husband, and have you in my presence." Soothed with the flatter}', the commandant replied, " Why, yes, they say military men are very successful with the fair sex I presume it is because they look up to us for protection ; and where can they be better assured of it than with a man who wears a sword at his thigh ? Come, signers, we will drink her health. Here's to the beautiful Amine Vander- decken." " To the beautiful Amine Vanderdecken ! " cried Krantz, tossing off his wine. " To the beautiful Amine Vanderdecken," followed Philip. 271 THE PHANTOM SHIP "But, commandant, are you not afraid to trust her at Goa, where there are so many enticements for a woman, so many allurements held out for her sex ? " " No, not in the least I am convinced that she loves me nay, between ourselves, that she dotes upon me." "Liar!" exclaimed Philip. " How, signor ! is that addressed to me ? " cried the com- mandant, seizing his sword, which lay on the table. "No, no," replied Philip, recovering himself; "it was ad- dressed to her. I have heard her swear to her husband, that she would exist for no other but him." "Ha! ha! is that all?" replied the commandant; "my friend, you do not know women." " No, nor is he very partial to them either," replied Krantz, who then leant over to the commandant and whispered, ' He is always so when you talk of women. He was cruelly jilted once, and hates the whole sex." "Then we must be merciful to him," replied the little officer; "suppose we change the subject." When they repaired to their own room, Krantz pointed out to Philip the necessity for his commanding his feelings, as other- wise they would again be immured in the dungeon. Philip acknowledged his rashness, but pointed out to Krantz that the circumstance of Amine having promised to marry the com- mandant, if he procured certain intelligence of his death, was the cause of his irritation. " Can it be so ? Is it possible that she can have been so false?" exclaimed Philip; "yet his anxiety to procure that document seems to warrant the truth of his assertion." " I think, Philip, that in all probability it is true," replied Krantz carelessly ; " but of this you may be assured, that she has been placed in a situation of great peril, and has only done so to save herself for your sake. When you meet, depend upon it she will fully prove to you that necessity had compelled her to deceive him in that way, and that if she had not done so, she would by this time have fallen a prey to his violence." " It may be so," replied Philip gravely. " It is so, Philip, my life upon it. Do not for a moment harbour a thought so injurious to one who lives but in your love. Suspect that fond and devoted creature ! I blush for you, Philip Vanderdecken." 273 THE PHANTOM SHIP "You are right, and I beg her pardon for allowing such feelings or thoughts to have for a moment overpowered me," responded Philip ; " but it is a hard case for a husband who loves as I do to hear his wife's name bandied about, and her character assailed by a contemptible wretch like this commandant." " It is, I grant ; but still I prefer even that to a dungeon," replied Krantz, " and so, good night." For three weeks they remained in the fort, every day becoming more intimate with the commandant, who often communicated with Krantz when Philip was not present, turning his conversation upon his love for Amine, and enter- ing into a minute detail of all that had passed. Krantz per- ceived that he was right in his opinion, and that Amme had only been cajoling the commandant, that she might escape. But the time passed heavily away with Philip and Krantz, for no vessel made its appearance. " When shall I see her again ? " soliloquised Philip one morning, as he lolled over the parapet in company with Krantz. "See who?" said the commandant, who happened to be at his elbow. Philip turned round and stammered something unintelli- gible. " We were talking of his sister, commandant," said Krantz, taking his arm and leading him away. " Do not mention the subject to my friend, for it is a veiy painful one, and forms one reason why he is so inimical to the sex. She was married to his intimate friend, and ran away from her husband : it was his only sister; and the disgrace broke his mother's heart, and has made him miserable. Take no notice of it, I beg." " No, no, certainly not ; I don't wonder at it : the honour of one's family is a serious affair," replied the commandant. " Poor young man, what with his sister's conduct and the falsehood of his own intended, I don't wonder at his being so grave and silent. Is he of a good family, signor ? " "One of the noblest in all Holland," replied Krantz ; "he is heir to a large property, and independent by the fortune of his mother ; but these two unfortunate events induced him to quit the States secretly, and he embarked for these countries, that he might forget his grief." 873 THE PHANTOM SHIP "One of the noblest families?" replied the commandant. " Then he is under an assumed name Jacob Vantreat is not his true name, of course." "Oh no," replied Krantz; "that it is not, I assure you; but my lips are sealed on that point." " Of course, except to a friend, who can keep a secret. I will not ask it now. So he is really noble ? " "One of the highest families in the country, possessing great wealth and influence allied to the Spanish nobility by marriage." "Indeed!" rejoined the commandant, musing "I daresay he knows many of the Portuguese as well." "No doubt of it ; they are all more or less connected." " He must prove to you a most valuable friend, Signor Richter." " I consider myself provided for for life as soon as we return home. He is of a very grateful, generous disposition, as he would prove to you, should you ever fall in with him again." " I have no doubt of it ; and I can assure you that I am heartily tired of staying in this country. Here I shall remain probably for two years more before I am relieved, and then shall have to join my regiment at Goa, and not be able to obtain leave to return home without resigning my commis- sion. But he is coming this way." After this conversation with Krantz, the alteration in the manner of the Portuguese commandant, who had the highest respect for nobility, was most marked. He treated Philip with a respect which was observable to all in the fort ; and which was, until Krantz had explained the cause, a source of astonish- ment to Philip himself. The commandant often introduced the subject to Krantz, and sounded him as to whether his conduct towards Philip had been such as to have made a favourable impression ; for the little man now hoped that, through such an influential channel, he might reap some benefit. Some days after this conversation, as they were all three seated at table, a corporal entered, and saluting the com- mandant, informed him that a Dutch sailor had arrived at the fort, and wished to know whether he should be admitted. Both Philip and Krantz turned pale at this communication ; they had a presentiment of evil, but they said nothing. The 274 THE PHANTOM SHIP sailor was ordered in, and in a few minutes, Mho should make his appearance but their tormentor, the one-eyed Schriften. On perceiving Philip and Krantz seated at the table, he im- mediately exclaimed, " Oh ! Captain Philip Vanderdecken, and my good friend Mynheer Krantz, first mate of the good ship Utrecht, I am glad to meet you again." " Captain Philip Vanderdecken ! " roared the commandant, as he sprang from his chair. " Yes, that is my captain, Mynheer Philip Vanderdecken ; and that is my first mate, Mynheer Krantz ; both of the good ship Utrecht : we were wrecked together, were we not, Myn- heer ? He ! he ! " " Sangue de Vanderdecken ! the husband ! Corpo del diavolo is it possible!" cried the commandant, panting for breath, as he seized his long sword with both hands and clenched it with fury. "What, then, I have been deceived, cajoled, laughed at ! " Then, after a pause the veins of his forehead distending so as almost to burst he continued, with a suppressed voice, " Most noble sir, I thank you ; but now it is my turn. What, ho! there! Corporal men, here, instantly quick ! " Philip and Krantz felt convinced that all denial was useless. Philip folded his arms and made no reply. Krantz merely observed, " A little reflection will prove to you, sir, that this indignation is not warranted." " Not warranted ! " rejoined the commandant with a sneer ; "you have deceived me; but you are caught in your own trap. I have the paper signed, which I shall not fail to make use of. You are dead, you know, captain ; I have your own hand to it, and your wife will be glad to believe it." "She has deceived you, commandant, to get out of your power, nothing more," said Vanderdecken. "She would spurn a contemptible, withered wretch like yourself, were she as free as the wind." " Go on, go on ; it will be my turn soon. Corporal, throw these two men into the dungeon : a sentry at the door till further orders. Away with them ! Most noble sir, perhaps your influential friends in Holland and Spain will enable you to get out again." Philip and Krantz were led away by the soldiers, who were very much surprised at this change of treatment. Schriften 275 THE PHANTOM SHIP followed them ; and as they walked across the rampart to the stairs which led to their prison, Krantz, in his fury, burst from the soldiers, and bestowed a kick upon Schriften, which sent him several feet forward on his face. " That was a good one -he ! he ! " cried Schriften, smiling and looking at Krantz as he regained his legs. There was an eye, however, which met theirs with an intel- ligent glance as they descended the stairs to the dungeon. It was that of the soldier Pedro. It told them that ther.e was one friend upon whom they could rely, and who would spare no endeavour to assist them in their new difficulty. It was a consolation to them both ; a ray of hope which cheered them as they once more descended the narrow steps, and heard the heavy key turned which again secured th m in their dungeon. CHAPTER XXXIII -L HUS are all our hopes wrecked," said Philip mourn- fully ; " what chance have we now of escaping from this little tyrant ? " " Chances turn up," replied Krantz ; " at present the pros- pect is not very cheering. Let us hope for the best. I have an idea in my head which may probably be turned to some account," continued Krantz, "as soon as the little man's fury is over." " Which is ' "That, mqch as he likes your wife, there is something which he likes quite as well money. Now, as we know where all the treasure is concealed, I think he may be tempted to offer us our liberty, if we were to promise to put it into his possession." " That is not impossible. Confound that little malignant wretch Schriften ; he certainly is not, as you say, of this world. He has been my persecutor through life, and appears to act from an impulse not his own." " Then must he be part and portion of your destiny. I'm thinking whether our noble commandant intends to leave us without anything to eat or drink." " I should not be surprised ; that he will attempt my life I 276 THE PHANTOM SHIP am convinced, but not that he can take it ; he may, however, add to its sufferings." As soon as the commandant had recovered from his fury he ordered Schriften in, to be examined more particularly ; but, after every search made for him, Schriften was nowhere to be found. The sentry at the gate declared that he had not passed ; and a new search was ordered, but in vain. Even the dungeons and galleries below were examined, but without success. " Can he be locked up with the other prisoners ? " thought the commandant ; " impossible but I will go and see." He descended and opened the door of the dungeon, looked in, and was about to return without speaking, when Krantz said, " Well, signor, this is kind treatment, after having lived so long and so amicably together ; to throw us into prison merely because a fellow declares that we are not what we represented ourselves to be ; perhaps you will allow us a little water to drink ? " The commandant, confused by the extraordinary disappear- ance of Schriften, hardly knew how to reply. He at last said, in a milder tone than was to be anticipated, " I will order them to bring some, signor." He then closed the door of the dungeon and disappeared. "Strange," said Philip; " he appears more pacified already." In a few minutes the door was again opened, and Pedro came in with a chatty of water. " He has disappeared like magic, signers, and is nowhere to be found. We have searched everywhere, but in vain." " Who ? the little old seaman ? " " Yes, he whom you kicked as you were led to prison. The people all say that it must have been a ghost. The sentry declares that he never left the fort, nor came near him ; so how he has got away is a riddle, which I perceive has frightened our commandant not a little." Krantz gave a long whistle as he looked at Philip. " Are you to have charge of us, Pedro ? " 1 " I hope so." "Well, tell the commandant that when he is ready to listen to me, I have something of importance to communicate." Pedro went out. " Now, Philip, I can frighten this little man into allowing us 277 THE PHANTOM SHIP to go free, if you will consent to say that you are not the husband of Amine." "That I cannot do, Krantz. I will not utter such a falsehood." " I was afraid so, and yet it appears to me that we may avail ourselves of duplicity to meet cruelty and injustice. Unless you do as I projx>se, I hardly know how I can manage it ; however, I will try what I can do." " I will assist you in every way, except disclaiming my wife ; that I never will do." " Well then, I will see if I can make up a story that will suit all parties ; let me think." Krantz continued musing as he walked up and down, and was still occupied with his own thoughts, when the door opened, and the commandant made his appearance. " You have something to impart to me, I understand what is it ? " " First, sir, bring that little wretch down here and confront him with us." "I see no occasion for that," replied the commandant; " what, sir, may you have to say ? " " Do you know who you have in your company when you speak to that one-eyed deformity ? " " A Dutch sailor, I presume." " No a spirit a demon who occasioned the loss of the vessel ; and who brings misfortune wherever he appears." " Holy Virgin ! what do you tell me, signer ? " " The fact, Signor Commandant. We are obliged to you for confining us here, while he is in the fort ; but beware for yourself." " You are laughing at me." " I am not ; bring him down here. This noble gentleman has power over him. I wonder, indeed, at his daring to stay while he is so near ; he has on his heart that which will send him trembling away. Bring him down here, and you shall at once see him vanish with curses and screams." " Heaven defend us ! " cried the commandant, terrified. "Send for him now, signer." " He is gone vanished not to be found ! " " I thought as much," replied Philip significantlv. "He is gone vanished you say. Then, commandant, you 278 THE PHANTOM SHIP will probably apologise to this noble gentleman for your treat, ment of him, and permit us to return to our former apartments. I will there explain to you this most strange and interesting history." The commandant, more confused than ever, hardly knew how to act. At last he bowed to Philip, and begged that he would consider himself atliberty : " And," continued he to Krantz, " I shall be most happy at an immediate explanation of this affair, for everything appears so contradictory." "And must, until it is explained. I will follow you into your own room ; a courtesy you must not expect from my noble friend, who is not a little indignant at your treatr /ent of him." The commandant went out, leaving the door open. Philip and Krantz followed ; the former retiring to his own apart- ment, the latter bending his steps after the commandant to his sitting-room. The confusion which whirled in the brain of the commandant made him appear most ridiculous. He hardly knew whether to be imperative or civil ; whether he was really speaking to the first mate of the vessel, or to another party ; or whether he had insulted a noble, or been cajoled by a captain of a vessel. He threw himself down on his sofa, and Krantz, taking his seat in a chair, stated as follows : "You have been partly deceived and parti v not, com- mandant. When we first came here, not knowing what treat- ment we might receive, we concealed our rank ; afterwards I made known to you the rank of my friend on shore, but did not think it worth while to say anything about his situation on board of the vessel. The fact is, as you may well suppose of a person of his dignity, he was owner of the fine ship which was lost through the intervention of that one-eyed wretch ; but of that by-and-by. Now for the story. About ten years ago there was a great miser in Amsterdam ; he lived in the most miserable way that a man could live in ; wore nothing but rags ; and having been formerly a seaman, his attire was gene- rally of the description common to his class. He had one son, to whom he denied the necessaries of life, and whom he treated most cruelly. After vain attempts to possess a portion of his father's wealth, the devil instigated the son to murder the old man, who was one day found dead in his bed ; but as there were no marks of violence which could be sworn to, although THE PHANTOM SHIP Suspicion fell upon the son, the affair was hushed up, and the young man took possession of his father's wealth. It was fully expected that there would now be rioting and squandering on the part of the heir, as is usually the case ; but, on the con- trary, he never spent anything, but appeared to be as poor even poorer than he ever was. Instead of being gay and merry, he was, in appearance, the most miserable, downcast person in the world ; and he wandered about seeking a crust of bread wherever he could find it. Some said that he had been inoculated by his father, and was as great a miser as his father had been ; others shook their heads, and said that all was not right. At last, after pining away for six or seven years, the young man died at an early age, without confession or absolution ; in fact, he was found dead in his bed. Beside the bed there was a paper addressed to the authorities, in which he acknowledged that he had murdered his father for the sake of his wealth ; and that when he went to take some of it for his expenses on the day afterwards, he found his father's spirit sitting on the bags of money, and menacing him with instant death if he touched one piece. He returned again and again, and found his father a sentinel as before. At last he gave up attempting to obtain it : his crime made him miserable, and he continued in possession, without daring to expend one sixpence of all the money. He requested that, as his end was approach- ing, the money should be given to the church of his patron saint, wherever that church might be found ; if there was not one, then that a church might be built and endowed. Upon investigation, it appeared that there was no such church in either Holland or the Low Countries (for you know that there are not many Catholics there); and they applied to the Catholic countries Lisbon and Spain, but there again they were at fault ; and it was discovered that the only church dedicated to that saint was one which had been erected by a Portuguese nobleman in the city of Goa, in the East Indies. The Catholic bishop determined that the money should be sent to Goa ; and, in consequence, it was embarked on board of my patron's vessel, to be delivered up to the first Portu- guese authorities he might fall in with. "Well, signor, the money, for better security, was put down into the captain's cabin, which, of course, was occupied by ray noble friend, and when he went to bed the first night 280 THE PHANTOM SHIP he was surprised to perceive a little one-eyed old man sitting on the boxes." " Merciful Saviour ! " exclaimed the commandant, " what, the very same little man who appeared here this day ? " "The very same/' replied Krantz. The commandant crossed himself, and Krantz proceeded " My noble patron was, as you may imagine, rather alarmed ; but he is very courageous in disposition, and he inquired of the old man who he was, and how he came on board. " ' I came on board with my own "money,' replied the spectre. ' It is all my own, and I shall keep it The Church shall never have one stiver of it if I can help it.' "Whereupon my patron pulled out a famous relic, which he wears on his bosom, and held it towards him ; at which the old man howled and screamed, and then most unwillingly disappeared. For two more nights the spectre was obstinate, but at the sight of the relic he invariably went off howling, as if in great pain ; every time that he went away, invariably crying out ' Lost lost ! ' and during the remainder of the voyage he did not trouble us any more. "We thought, when our patron told us this, that he re- ferred to the money being lost to him, but it appears he referred to the ship ; indeed, it was very inconsiderate to have taken the wealth of a parricide on board ; we could not expect any good fortune with such a freight, and so it proved. When the ship was lost, our patron was very anxious to save the money ; it was put on the j aft, and when we landed, it was taken on shore and buried, that it might be restored and given to the church to which it had been bequeathed; but the men who buried it are all dead, and there is no one but my friend here, the patron, who knows the spot. I forgot to say that as soon as the money was landed on the island and buried, the spectre appeared as before, and seated itself over the spot where the money was interred. I think, if this had not been the case, the seamen would have taken possession of it. But, by its appearance here this day, I presume it is tired, and has deserted its charge, or else has come here that the money might be sent for, though I cannot understand why." "Strange very strange ! So there is a large treasure buried in the sand I " There is. " 281 THE PHANTOM SHIP * I should think, by the spectre's coming here, that it has abandoned it." " Of course it has, or it would not be here." " What can you imagine to have been the cause of its coming ? " " Probably to announce its intention, and request my friend to have the treasure sent for; but you know it was interrupted." " Very true ; but it called your friend Vanderdecken." " It was the name which he took on board of the ship." " And it was the name of the lady ? " " Very true. He fell in with her at the Cape of Good Hope, and brought her away with him." "Then she is his wife?"" " I must not answer that question. It is quite sufficient that he treats her as his wife." " Ah ! indeed. But about this treasure. You say that no one knows where it is buried but the patron, as you call him ? " " No one." " Will you express my regret at what has passed, and tell him I will have the pleasure of seeing him to-morrow ? " "Certainly, signor," replied Krantz, rising from his chair, and wishing the commandant a good evening as he retired. " I was after one thing, and have found another. A spectre that must have been ; but he must be a bold spectre that can frighten me from doubloons ; besides, I can call in the priests. Now, let me see ; if I let this man go on condition that he reveals the site of the treasure to the authorities that is, to me why then I need not lose the fair young woman. If I forward this paper to her, why then I gain her ; but I must first get rid of him. Of the two I prefer yes ! the gold ! But I cannot obtain both. At all events, let me obtain the money first. I want it more than the Church does ; but if I do get the money, these two men can expose me. I must get rid of them silence them for ever and then perhaps I may obtain the fair Amine also. Yes, their death will be necessary to secure either ; that is, after I have the first in my possession. Let me think." For some minutes the commandant walked up and down the room, reflecting upon the best method of proceeding, 191 THE PHANTOM SHIP " He says it was a spectre, and he has told a plausible story," thought he ; " but I don't know I have my doubts ; they may be tricking me. Well, be it so. If the money is there, I will have it ; and if not, I will have my revenge. Yes ! I have it : not only must they be removed, but by degrees all the others too who assist in bringing the treasure away. Then but who's there Pedro ? " " Yes, signor." " How long have you been here ? " " But as you spoke, signor ; I thought I heard you call." " You may go I want nothing." Pedro departed ; but he had been some time in the room, and had overheard the whole of the commandant's soliloquy. CHAPTER XXXIV IT was a bright morning when the Portuguese vessel which Ainine was on board entered into the bay and roadstead of Goa. Goawas then at its zenith a proud, luxurious, superb, wealthy city the capital of the East a city of palaces, whose viceroy reigned supreme. As they approached the river, the two mouths of which form the island upon which Goa is built, the passengers were all on deck ; and the Portuguese captain, who had often been there, pointed out to Amiue the most remarkable buildings. When they had passed the forts they entered the river, the whole line of whose banks were covered with the country seats of the nobility and hidalgos splendid buildings embosomed in groves of orange-trees, whose perfume scented the air. " There, signora, is the country palace of the viceroy," said the captain, pointing to a building which covered nearly three acres of ground. The ship sailed on until they arrived nearly abreast of the town, when Amine's eyes were directed to the lofty spires of the churches, and other public edifices ; for Amine had seen but little of cities during her life, as may be perceived when her history is recollected. "That is the Jesuits' church, with their establishment," said the captain, pointing to a magnificent pile. " In the church THE PHANTOM SHIP now opening upon us lie the canonised bones of the celebrated Saint Francisco, who sacrificed his life in his zeal for the propagation of the Gospel in these countries." " I have heard of him from Father Mathias," replied Amine ; but what building is that ? " " The Augustine convent ; and the other, to the right, is the Dominican." " Splendid, indeed ! " observed Amine. "The building you see now, on the water-side, is the viceroy's palace ; that to the right, again, is the convent of the bare- footed Carmelites; yon lofty cpire is the cathedral of St. Catherine ; and that beautiful and light piece of architecture is the Church of our Lady of Pity. You observe there a building with a dome, rising behind the viceroy's palace ? " " I do," replied Amine. "That is the Holy Inquisition." Although Amine had heard Philip speak of the Inquisition, she knew little about its properties ; but a sudden tremor passed through her frame as the name was mentioned, which she could not herself account for. " Now we open upon the viceroy's palace, and you perceive what a beautiful building it is," continued the captain. " That large pile, a little above it, is the Custom-house, abreast of which we shall come to an anchor. I must leave you now, signora." A few minutes afterwards the ship anchored opposite the Custom-house. The captain and passengers went on shore, with the exception of Amine, who remained in the vessel while Father Mathias went in search of an eligible place of abode. The next morning the priest returned on board the ship, with the intelligence that he had obtained a reception for Amine in the Ursuline convent, the abbess of which establishment he was acquainted with ; and, before Amine went on shore, he cautioned her that the lady-abbess was a strict woman, and would be pleased if she conformed as much as possible to the rules of the convent ; that this convent only received young persons of the highest and most wealthy families, and he trusted that she would be happy there. He also promised to call upon her, and talk upon those subjects so dear to his heart, and so necessary to her salvation. The earnestness and Jtindness with which the old man spoke melted Amine tg THE PHANTOM SHIP tears ; and the holy father quitted her side to go down and collect her baggage, -with a warmth of feeling towards her which he had seldom felt before, and with greater hopes than ever that his endeavours to convert her would not ultimately be thrown away. " He is a good man," thought Amine, as she descended and Amine was right. Father Mathias was a good man ; but, like all men, he was not perfect. A zealot in the cause of his religion, he would have cheerfully sacrificed his life as a martyr ; but if opposed or thwarted in his views, he could then be cruel and unjust. Father Mathias had many reasons for placing Amine in the Ursuline convent. He felt bound to offer her that protection which he had so long received under her roof; he wished her to be under the surveillance of the abbess, for he could not help imagining, although he had no proof, that she was still essaying or practising forbidden arts. He did not state this to the abbess, as he felt it would be unjust to raise suspicions ; but he represented Amine as one who would do honour to their faith, to which she was not yet quite converted. The very idea of effecting a conversion is to the tenants of a convent an object of surpassing interest, and the abbess was much better pleased to receive one who required her counsels and per- suasions, than a really pious Christian, Mho would give her no trouble. Amine went on shore with Father Mathias ; she refused the palanquin which had been prepared for her, and walked up to the convent. They landed between the Custom- house and the viceroy's palace, passed through the large square behind it, and then went up the Strada Diretta. or straight street, which led up to the Church of Pity, near to which the convent is situated. This street is the finest in Goa, and is called Strada Diretta from the singular fact that almost all the streets in Goa are quadrants or segments of circles. Amine was astonished. The houses were of stone, lofty and massive ; at each storey was thrown out a balcony of marble, elaborately carved ; and over each door were the arms of the nobility, or hidalgos, to whom the houses belonged. The square behind the palace and the wide streets were filled with living beings ; elephants with gorgeous trappings ; led or mounted horses in superb housings ; palanquins, carried by natives in splendid liveries ; running footmen ; syces ; every variety of nation, 285 THE PHANTOM SHIP from the proud Portuguese to the half-covered native ; Mus- sulmans, Arabs, Hindoos, Armenians ; officers and soldiers in their uniforms, all crowded and thronged together all was bustle and motion. Such was the wealth, the splendour, and luxury of the proud city of Goa the Empress of the East at the time we are now describing. In half-an-hour they forced their way through the crowd and arrived at the convent, where Amine was well received by the abbess, and, after a few minutes' conversation, Father Mathias took his leave ; upon which the abbess immediately set about her task of conversion. The first thing she did was to order some dried sweetmeats not a bad beginning, as they were palatable ; but as she happened to be very ignorant, and unaccustomed to theological disputes, her sub- sequent arguments did not go down as well as the fruit. After a rambling discourse of about an hour, the old lady felt tired, and felt as if she had done wonders. Amine was then introduced to the nuns, most of whom were young, and all of good family. Her dormitory was shown to her ; and express- ing a wish to be alone, she was followed into the chamber by only sixteen of them, which was about as many as the chamber could well hold. We must pass over the two months during which Amine remained in the convent. Father Mathias had taken every step to ascertain if her husband had been saved upon any of the islands which were under the Portuguese dominion, but could gain no information. Amine was soon weary of the convent ; she was persecuted by the harangues of the old abbess, but more disgusted at the conduct and conversation of the nuns. They all had secrets to confide to her secrets which had been confided to the whole convent before : such secrets, such stories, so different from Amine's chaste ideas such impurity of thought that Amine was disgusted at them. But how could it be otherwise ? The poor creatures had been taken from the world in the full bloom of youth, under a ripening sun, and had been immured in this unnatural manner to gratify the avarice and pride of their families. Its inmates being wholly composed of the best families, the rules of this convent were not so strict as others ; licenses were given greater licenses were taken and Amine, to her surprise, found that in this society, devoted to Heaven, there were exhibited 286 THE PHANTOM SHIP more of the bad passions of human nature than she had before met with. Constantly watched, never allowed a moment to herself, her existence became unbearable ; and after three months, she requested Father Mathias would find her some other place of refuge, telling him frankly that her residence in that place was not very likely to assist her conversion to the tenets of his faith. Father Mathias fully comprehended her, but replied, " I have no means." " Here are means," replied Amine, taking the diamond ring from her finger. "This is worth eight hundred ducats in our country ; here, I know not how much." Father Mathias took the ring. " I vrill call upon you to-moiTow morning, and let you know what I have done. I shall acquaint the lady abbess that you are going to your husband, for it would not be safe to let her suppose that you have reasons for quitting the convent. I have heard what you state mentioned before, but have treated it as scandal ; but you, I know, are incapable of falsehood." The next day Father Mathias returned, and had an inter- view with the abbess, who after a time sent for Amine, and told her that it was necessary that she should leave the convent. She consoled her as well- as she could at leaving such a happy place, sent for some sweetmeats to make the parting less trying, gave her a blessing, and made her over to Father Mathias ; who, when they were alone, informed Amine that he had disposed of the ring for eighteen hundred dollars, and had procured apartments for her in the house of a widow lady, with whom she was to board. Taking leave of the nuns, Amine quitted the convent with Father Mathias, and was soon installed in her new apart- ments, in a house which formed part of a spacious square called the Terra di Sabaio. After the introduction to her hostess, Father Mathias left her. Amine found her apart- ments fronting the square, airy and commodious. The land- lady, who had escorted her to view them, not having left her, she inquired " what large church that was on the other side of the square ? " "It is the Ascension/' replied the lady; "the music is very fine there ; we will go and hear it to-r^orrow, if you please." "And that massive building in face of us?" 287 THE PHANTOM SHIP "That is the Holy Inquisition," said the widow, crossing herself. Amine again started, she knew not why. " Is that your child?" said Amine, as a boy of about twelve years old entered the room. " Yes," replied the widow, " the only one that is left me. May God preserve him ! " The boy was handsome and intel- ligent, and Amine, for her own reasons, did everything she could to make friends with him, and was successful. CHAPTER XXXV had just returned from an afternoon's walk through the streets of Goa ; she had made some purchases at different shops in the bazaar, and had brought them home under her mantilla. " Here, at last, thank Heaven, I am alone and not watched," thought Amine, as she threw herself on the couch. "Philip, Philip, where are you?" exclaimed she. "I have now the means, and I soon will know." Little Pedro, the son of the widow, entering the room, ran up to Amine and kissed her. " Tell me, Pedro, where is your mother ? " " She is gone out to see her friends this evening, and we are alone. I will stay with you." " Do so, dearest. Tell me, Pedro, can you keep a secret ? " " Yes, I will tell it to me." "Nay, I have nothing to tell, but I wish to do some- thing ; I wish to make a play, and you shall see things in your hand." " Oh yes, show me, do show me." " If you promise not to tell." No, by the Holy Virgin, I will not" "Then you shall see." Amine lighted some charcoal in a chafing-dish, and put it at her feet ; she then took a reed pen, some ink from a small bottle, and a pair of scissors, and wrote down several characters on a paper, singing, or rather chanting, words which were not intelligible to her young companion. Amine then threw frankincense and coriander seed into the chafing- dish, which threw out a strong aromatic smoke ; and desiring 888 THE PHANTOM SHIP Pedro to sit down by her on a small stool, she took the boy's right hand and held it in her own. She then drew upon the palm of his hand a square figure with characters on each side of it, and in the centre poured a small quantity of the ink, so as to form a black mirror of the size of half-a-crown. " Now all is ready," said Amine ; " look, Pedro, what see you in the ink ? " " My own face," replied the boy. She threw more frankincense upon the chafing-dish, until the room was full of smoke, and then chanted "Turshoon, turyo-shoon come down, come down. " Be present, ye servants of these names. " Remove the veil, and be correct." The characters she had drawn upon the paper, she had divided with the scissors, and now taking one of the pieces, she dropped it into the chafing-dish, still holding the boy's hand. " Tell me now, Pedro, what do you see ? " " I see a man sweeping," replied Pedro, alarmed. "Fear not, Pedro, you shall see more. Has he done sweeping ? " " Yes, he has." And Amine muttered words, which were unintelligible, and threw into the chafing-dish the other half of the paper with the characters she had written down. " Say now, Pedro, ' Philip Vanderdecten, appear.' " " Philip Vanderdecken, appear ! " responded the boy, trem- bling. "Tell me what thou seest, Pedro, tell me true?" said Amine anxiously. " I see a man lying down on the white sand (I don't like this play)." " Be not alarmed, Pedro, you shall have sweetmeats directly. Tell me what thou seest, how the man is dressed ? " "He has a short coat he has white trousers he looks about him he takes something out of his breast and kisses it." " Tis he, 'tis he ! and he lives ! Heaven, I thank thee. Look again, boy." " He gets up (I don't like this play ; I am frightened ; indeed I am\" 289 T THE PHANTOM SHIP Fear not. "Oh yes, I am I cannot," replied Pedro, falling on his knees ; " pray let me go." Pedro had turned his hand, and spilt the ink, the charm was broken, and Amine could learn no more. She soothed the boy with presents, made him repeat his promise that he would not tell, and postponed further search into fate until the boy should appear to have recovered from his terror, and be willing to resume the ceremonies. " My Philip lives mother, dear mother, I thank you." Amine did not allow Pedro to leave the room until he appeared to have quite recovered from his fright ; for some days she did not say anything to him, except to remind him of his promise not to tell his mother, or any one else, and she loaded him with presents. One afternoon, when his mother had gone out, Pedro came in and asked Amine " whether they should not have the play over again ! " Amine, who was anxious to know more, was glad of the boy's request, and soon had everything prepared. Again was her chamber filled with the smoke of the frankincense : again was she muttering her incantations : the magic mirror was on the boy's hand, and once more had Pedro cried out, " Philip Vanderdecken, appear ! " when the door burst open, and Father Mathias, the widow, and several other people made their appearance. Amine started up Pedro screamed and ran to his mother. " Then I was not mistaken at what I saw in the cottage at Terneuse," cried Father Mathias, with his arms folded over his breast, and with looks of indignation ; " accursed sorceress ! you are detected." Amine returned his gaze with scorn, and coolly replied, " I am not of your creed you know it. Eavesdropping appears to be a portion of your religion. This is my chamber it is not the first time I have had to request you to leave it I do so now you and those who have come in with you." " Take up all those implements of sorcery first," said Father Mathias to his companions. The chafing-dish, and other articles used by Amine, were taken away ; and Father Mathias and the others quitting the room, Amine was left alone. Amine had a foreboding that she was lost ; she knew that 290 THE PHANTOM SHIP magic was a crime of the highest degree in Catholic countries, and that she had been detected in the very act. "Well, well," thought Amine, "it is my destiny, and I can brave the worst." To account for the appearance of Father Mathias and the witnesses, it must be observed that the little boy Pedro had, the day after Amine's first attempt, forgotten his promise, and narrated to his mother all that had passed. The widow, frightened at what the boy had told her, thought it right to go to Father Mathias, and confide to him what her son had told her, as it was, in her opinion, sorcery. Father Mathias questioned Pedro closely, and, convinced that such was the case, determined to have witnesses to confront Amine. He therefore proposed that the boy should appear to be willing to try again, and had instructed him for the purpose, having previously arranged that they should break in upon Amine, as we have described. About half-an-hour afterwards, two men dressed in black gowns came into Amine's room, and requested that she would follow them ; or that force would be used. Amine made no resistance : they crossed the square ; the gate of a large build- ing was opened ; they desired her to walk in, and, in a few seconds, Amine found herself in one of the dungeons of the Inquisition, CHAPTER XXXVI X REVIOUS to continuing our narrative, it may be as well to give our readers some little insight into the nature, ceremonies, and regulations of the Inquisition ; and in describing that of Goa, we may be said to describe all others, with very trifling, if any, variation. The Santa Casa, or Inquisition of Goa, is situated on one side of a large square, called the Terra di Sabaio. It is a massy, handsome pile of stone buildings, with three doors in the front: the centre one is larger than the two lateral, and it is through the centre door that you go into the Hall of Judgment. The side-doors lead to spacious and handsome apartments for the Inquisitors, and offices attached to the establishment. 291 THE PHANTOM SHIP Behind these apartments are the cells and dungeons of the Inquisition ; they are in two long galleries, with double doors to each, and are about ten feet square. There are about two hundred of them ; some are much more comfortable than the others, as light and air are admitted into them ; the others are wholly dark. In the galleries the keepers watch, and not a word or a sound can proceed from any cell without their being able to overhear it. The treatment of those confined is, as far as respects their food, very good : great care is taken that the nourishment is of that nature that the prisoners may not suffer from the indigestion arising from want of exercise. Surgical attendance is also permitted them ; but, unless on very par- ticular occasions, no priests are allowed to enter. Any consola- tion to be derived from religion, even the office of confessor and extreme unction, in case of dissolution, are denied them. Should they die during their confinement, whether proved guilty or not of the crime of which they are accused, they are buried without any funeral ceremony, and tried afterwards; if then found guilty, their bones are disinterred, and the execu- tion of their sentence is passed upon their remains. There are two Inquisitors at Goa : one the Grand Inqui- sitor, and the other his second, who are invariably chosen from the order of St. Dominique ; these two are assisted in their judgment and examinations by a large number selected from the religious orders, who are termed deputies of the Holy Office, but who only attend when summoned : they have other officers, whose duty it is to examine all published books, and ascertain if there is anything in their pages contrary to the holy religion. There is also a public accuser, a procureur of the Inquisition, and lawyers, who are permitted to plead the case of the prisoners, but whose chief business and interest it is to obtain their secrets and betray them. What are termed Familiars of the Inquisition are, in fact, nothing but this de- scription of people ; but this disgraceful office is taken upon themselves by the highest nobility, who think it an honour, as well as a security, to be enrolled among the Familiars of the Inquisition, who are thus to be found dispersed throughout society ; and every careless word or expression is certain to be repeated to the Holy Office. A summons to attend at the Inquisition is never opposed ; if it were, the whole populace Would rise and enforce it. Those who are confined in thQ THE PHANTOM SHIP dungeons of the Inquisition are kept separate ; it is a very uncommon thing to put two together ; it is only done when it is considered that the prolonged solitude of the dungeon has created such a depression of spirits as to endanger the life of the party. Perpetual silence is enjoined and strictly kept. Those who wail or weep, or even pray, in their utter darkness, are forced by blows to be quiet. The cries and shrieks of those who suffer from this chastisement, or from the torture, are carried along the whole length of the corridors, terrifying those who, in solitude and darkness, are anticipating the same fate. The first question put to a person arrested by the Inquisi- tion, is a demand, " What is his property ? " He is desired to make an exact declaration of everything that he is worth, and swear to the truth of his assertions ; being informed that, if there is any reservation on his part (although he may be at that time innocent of the charges produced against him), he will, by his concealment, have incurred the wrath of the Inquisition ; and that, if discharged for the crime he is accused of, he will again be arrested for having taken a false oath to the Inquisition ; that, if innocent, his property will be safe, and not interfered with. It is not without reason that this demand is made. If a person accused confesses his crime, he is, in most cases, eventually allowed to go free, but all his property becomes confiscated. By the rules of the Inquisition, it is made to appear as if those condemned have the show of justice ; for, although two witnesses are sufficient to warrant the apprehension of any individual, seven are necessary to convict him ; but as the witnesses are never confronted with the prisoners, and torture is often applied to the witnesses, it is not difficult to obtain the number required. Many a life is falsely sworn away by the witness, that he may save Ins own. The chief crimes which are noticed by the Inquisition are thoe.e of sorcery, heresy, blasphemy, and what is called Judaism. To comprehend the meaning of this last crime, for which more people have suffered from the Inquisition than for any other, the reader must be informed that when Ferdinand and Isabella of Castile drove all the Jews out of Spain, they fled to Portugal, where they were received on the sole condition that they should embrace Christianity: this they consented, or THE PHANTOM SHIP appeared to consent, to do ; but these converts were despised by the Portuguese people, who did not believe them to be sincere. They obtained the title of New Christians, in contra- distinction to that of Old Christians. After a time the two were occasionally intermingled in marriage ; but when so, it was always a reproach to the old families ; and descendants from these alliances were long termed, by way of reproach, as having a portion of the New Christians in them. The descendants of the old families thus intermingled not only lost caste, but, as the genealogy of every family was well known, they were looked upon with suspicion, and were always at the mercy of the Holy Office, when denounced for Judaism, that is, for returning to the old Jewish practices of keeping the passover, and the other ceremonies enforced by Moses. Let us see how an accusation of this kind works in the hands of the Inquisition. A really sincere Catholic, descended from one of these unhappy families, is accused and arrested by the orders of the Inquisition ; he is ordered to declare his property, which, convinced of his innocence, and expecting soon to be released, he does without reservation. But hardly has the key of the dungeon turned upon him, when all his effects are seized and sold by public auction ; it being well understood that they never will be restored to him. After some months' confinement, he is called into the Hall of Justice, and asked if he knows why he is in prison ; they advise him earnestly to confess and to conceal nothing, as it is the only way by which he can obtain his liberty. He declares his ignorance, and being sent for several times, persists in it. The period of the auto-da- ft , or act of faith, which takes place ever}' two or three years (that is, the public execution of those who have been found guilty by the Inquisition), approaches. The public accuser then comes forward, stating that the prisoner has been accused by a number of witnesses of Judaism. They persuade him to ac- knowledge his guilt ; he persists in his innocence ; they then pass a sentence on him, which they term Convicto Invotivo, which means "found guilty, but will not confess his crime " ; and he is sentenced to be burnt at the approaching celebration. After this they follow him to his cell, and exhort him to-confess his guilt, and promise that if he does confess he shall be pardoned ; and these appeals are continued until the evening of the day before his execution. Terrified at the idea of a 294 THE PHANTOM SHIP painful death, the wretch, at last, to save his life, consents. He is called into the Hall of Judgment, confesses the crime that he has not committed, and imagines that he is now saved. Alas ! no ; he has entangled himself, and cannot escape. " You acknowledge that you have been guilty of observing the laws of Moses. These ceremonies cannot be performed alone; you cannot have eaten the Paschal lamb alone; tell us immediately who were those who assisted at those cere- monies, or your life is still forfeited, and the stake is prepared for you." Thus has he accused himself without gaining anything, and if he wishes to save his life, he must accuse others ; and who can be accused but his own friends and acquaintances ? nay, in all probability, his own relations his brothers, sisters, wife, sons, or daughters for it is natural to suppose that in all such practices a man will trust only his own family. Whether a man confesses his guilt, or dies asserting his innocence, his worldly property is in either case confiscated ; but it is of great consequence to the Inquisition that he should confess, as his act of confession, with his signature annexed, is publicly read, and serves to prove to the world that the Inquisition is impar- tial and just; nay, more, even merciful, as it pardons those who have been proved to be guilty. At Goa the accusations of sorcery and magic were much more frequent than at the Inquisitions at other places, arising from the customs and ceremonies of the Hindoos being very much mixed up with absurd superstitions. These people, and the slaves from other parts, very often embraced Christianity to please their masters ; but since, if they had been baptized and were afterwards convicted of any crime, they were sentenced to the punishment by fire, whereas if they had not been baptized, they were only punished by whipping, imprisonment, or the galleys, upon this ground alone many re/used to embrace Christianity. We have now detailed all that we consider, up to the present, necessary for the information of the reader ; all that is omitted he will gather as we proceed with our history. 295 THE PHANTOM SHIP CHAPTER XXXVII A. FEW hours after Amine had been in the dungeon, the jailers entered : without speaking to her they let down her soft silky hair, and cut it close off. Amine, with her lip curled in contempt, and without resistance and expostulation, allowed them to do their work. They finished, and she was again left to her solitude. The next day the jailers entered her cell, and ordered her to bare her feet, and follow them. She looked at them, and they at her. " If you do not, we must," observed one of the men, who was moved by her youth and beauty. Amine did as she was desired, and was led into the Hall of Justice, where she found only the Grand Inquisitor and the secretary. The Hall of Justice was a long room with lofty windows on each side, and also at the end opposite to the door through which she bad been led in. In the centre, on a raised dais, was a long table covered with a cloth of alternate blue and fawn- coloured stripes ; and at the end opposite to where Amine was brought in, was raised an enormous crucifix, with a carved image of our Saviour. The jailer pointed to a small bench, and intimated to Amine that she was to sit down. After a scrutiny of some moments, the secretary spoke " What is your name ? " " Amine Vanderdecken." "Of what country?" " My husband is of the Low Countries ; I am from the East." " What is your husband ? " " The captain of a Dutch Indiaman." " How came you here ? " " His vessel was wrecked, and we were separated." " Whom do you know here ? " Father Mathias." " What property have you ? " ' " None ; it is my husband's." u Where is it ? " " In the custody of Father Mathias." * Are you aware why you are brought here?" THE PHANTOM SHIP "How should I be?" replied Amine evasively; "tell m what am I accused of?" " You must know whether you have clone wrong or not. You had better confess all your conscience accuses you of." " My conscience does not accuse me of doing wrong." " Then you will confess nothing ? " " By your own showing, I have nothing to confess." " You say you are from the East : are you a Christian ? " " I reject your creed." " You are married to a Catholic ? " "Yes! a true Catholic." " Who married you ? " Father Seysen, a Catholic priest" " Did you enter into the bosom of the Church ? did he venture to marry you without your being baptized ? " " Some ceremony did take place which I consented to." " It was baptism, was it not ? " " I believe it was so termed." " And now you say that you reject the creed ? " "Since I have witnessed the conduct of those who profess it, I do. At the time of my marriage I was disposed to- wards it." ' "What is the amount of your property in the Father Mathias's hands ? " " Some hundreds of dollars he knows exactly." The Grand Inquisitor rang a bell ; the jailers entered, and Amine was led back to her dungeon. " Why should they ask so often about my money ? " mused Amine ; " if they require it they may take it. What is their power ? What would they do with me ? Well, well, a few days will decide." A few days ! no, no, Amine ; years, perhaps, would have passed without decision, but that in four months from the date of your incarceration, the auto- da-fe, which had not been celebrated for upwards of three years, was to take place, and there was not a sufficient number of those who were to undergo the last punishment to render the ceremony imposing. A few more were required for the stake, or you would not have escaped from those dungeons so soon. As it was, a month of anxiety and suspense, almost insupportable, had to be passed away before Amine was again summoned to the Hall of Justice. 297 THE PHANTOM SHIP Amine, at the time we have specified, was again introduced to the Hall of Justice, and was again asked if she would con- fess. Irritated at her long confinement and the injustice of the proceedings, she replied, " I have told you once for all that I have nothing to confess ; do with me as you will, but be quick." " Will torture oblige you to confess ? " " Try me," replied Amine firmly, " try me, cruel men, and if you gain but one word from me, then call me craven. I am but a woman, but I dare you I defy you ! " It was seldom that such expressions fell upon the ears of her judges, and still more seldom that a countenance was lighted up with such determination. But the torture was never applied until after the accusation had been made and answered. "We shall see," said the Grand Inquisitor; "take her away." Amine was led back to her cell. In the meantime, Father Mathias had had several conferences with the Inquisitor. Although, in his wrath, he had accused Amine, and had pro- cured the necessary witnesses against her, he now felt uneasy and perplexed. His long residence with her her invariable kindness till the time of his dismissal his knowledge that she had never embraced the faith her boldness and courage nay, her beauty and youth, all worked strongly in her favour. His only object now was to persuade her to confess that she was wrong, induce her to embrace the faith, and save her. With this view he had obtained permission from the Holy Office to enter her dungeon and reason with her, a special favour which, for many reasons, they could not well refuse him. It was on the third day after her second examination, that the bolts were removed at an unusual hour, and Father Mathias entered the cell, which was again barred, and he was left alone with Amine. " My child ! my child !" exclaimed Father Mathias, with sorrow in his countenance. " Nay, father, this is mockery. It is you who brought me here leave me." " I brought you here, 'tis true ; but I would now remove you, if you will permit me, Amine." " Most willingly ; I'll follow you." "Nay, nay; there is much to talk over, much to be done. THE PHANTOM SHIP This is not a dungeon from which people can escape so easily." " Then tell me what have you to say ; and what it is must be done ? " " I will." " But stop ; before you say one word, ansM*er me one question as you hope for bliss. Have you heard aught of Philip ? " " Yes, I have. He is well." " And where is he ? " " He will soon be here." " God, I thank Thee ! Shall I see him, father ? " " That must depend upon yourself." "Upon myself? Then tell me, quickly, what would they have me do ? " " Confess your sins your crimes." " What sins ? what crimes ? " " Have you not dealt with evil beings, invoked the spirits, and gained the assistance of those who are not of this world?" Amine made no reply. " Answer me. Do you not confess ? " " I do not confess to have done anything wrong." "This is useless. You were seen by me and others. What will avail your denial ? Are you aware of the punishment which most surely awaits you, if you do not confess and become a member of our Church ? " " W'hy am I to become a member of your Church ? Do you then punish those who refuse ? " " No ; had you not already consented to receive baptism, you would not have been asked to become so ; but, having been baptized, you must now become a member, or be sup- posed to fall back into heresy." "I knew not the nature of your baptism at that time." " Granted ; but you consented to it." " Be it so. But pray, what may be the punishment if I refuse ? " " You will be burnt alive at the stake ; nothing will save you. Hear me, Amine Vanderdecken : when next summoned, you must confess all ; and, asking pardon, request to be received into the Church ; then will you be saved, and you will " -299 THE PHANTOM SHIP "What?" " Again be clasped in Philip's arms." " My Philip my Philip ! you indeed press me hard ; but, father, if I confess I am wrong, when I feel that I am " Feel that you are not ! " " Yes. I invoked my mother's assistance ; she gave it me in a dream. Would a mother have assisted her daughter if it were wrong ? " " It was not your mother, but a fiend who took her like- ness." " It was my mother. Again you ask me to say that I believe that which I cannot." " That which you cannot 1 Amine Vanderdecken, be not obstinate." " I am not obstinate, good father. Have you not offered me what is to me beyond all price, that I should again be in the arms of my husband. Can I degrade myself to a lie ? not for life, or liberty, or even my Philip." " Amine Vanderdecken, if you will confess your crime be- fore you are accused, you will have done much ; after your accusation has been made, it will be of little avail." " It will not be done, either before or after, father. What I have done I have done, but a crime it is not to me and mine ; with you it may be, but I am not of yours." " Recollect also that you peril your husband, for having wedded with a sorceress. Forget not, to-morrow I will see you again." " My mind is troubled," replied Amine. " Leave me, father, it will be a kindness." Father Mathias quitted the cell, pleased with the last words of Amine. The idea of her husband's danger seemed to have startled her. Amine threw herself down on the mattress in the corner of the cell, and hid her face. " Burnt alive ! " exclaimed she, after a time, sitting up and passing her hands over her forehead. " Burnt alive ' and these are Christians. This then was the cruel death foretold by that creature Schriften foretold yes, and there- fore must be it is my destiny I cannot save myself. If 1 confess, then I confess that Philip is wedded to a sor THE PHANTOM SHIP ceress, and he will be punished too. No, never never; I can suffer ; 'tis cruel 'tis horrible to think of, but 'twill soon be over. God of my fathers, give me strength against these wicked men, and enable me to bear all, for my dear Philip's sake." The next evening, Father Mathias again made his appear- ance. He found Amine calm and collected : she refused to listen to his voice or follow his injunctions. His last obser- vation, that " her husband would be in peril if she was found guilty of sorcery," had steeled her heart, and she had determined that neither torture nor the stake should make her confess the act. The priest left the cell, sick at heart ; he now felt miserable at the idea of Amine's perishing by so dreadful a death ; accused himself of precipitation, and wished that he had never seen Amine, whose constancy and courage, although in error, excited his admiration and his pity. And then he thought of Philip, who had treated him so kindly how could he meet him ? And if he asked for his wife, what answer could he give ? Another fortnight passed, when Amine was again summoned to the Hall of Judgment, and again asked if she confessed her crimes. Upon her refusal, the accusations against her were read. She was accused by Father Mathias with prac- tising forbidden arts, and the depositions of the boy Pedro and the other witnesses were read. In his zeal, Father Mathias also stated that he had found her guilty of the same practices at Terneuse ; and, moreover, that in the violent storm, when all expected to perish, she had remained calm and courageous, and told the captain that they would be saved ; which could only have been known by an undue spirit of prophecy, given by evil spirits. Amine's lip curled in derision when she heard the last accusation. She was asked if she had any defence to make. " What defence can be offered," replied she, " to such accusations as these ? Witness the last because I was not so craven as the Christians, I am accused of sorcery. The old dotard ! but I will expose him. Tell me, if one knows that sorcery is used, and conceals or allows it, is he not a partici- pator, and equally guilty ? " " He is," replied the Inquisitor, anxiously awaiting the result. 301 THE PHANTOM SHIP "Then I denounce -" and Amine was about to reveal that Philip's mission was known, and not forbidden by Fathers Mathias and Seysen ; when, recollecting that Philip would be implicated, she stopped. " Denounce whom ? " inquired the Inquisitor. " No one/' replied Amine, folding her arms and dropping her head. " Speak, woman." Amine made no answer. " The torture will make you speak." " Never!" replied Amine. " Never ! Torture me to death, if you choose ; I prefer it to a public execution ! " The Inquisitor and the secretary consulted a short time. Convinced that Amine would adhere to her resolution, and requiring her for public execution, they abandoned the idea of the torture. " Do you confess ? " inquired the Inquisitor. "No," replied Amine firmly. " Then take her away." The night before the auto-da-ft, Father Mathias again entered the cell of Amine, but all his endeavours to convert her were useless. "To-morrow will end it all, father," replied Amine; "leave me I would be alone." CHAPTER XXXVIII W^E must now return to Philip and Krantz. When the latter retired from the presence of the Portuguese commandant, he communicated to Philip what had taken place, an 1 the fabu- lous tale which he had invented to deceive the commandant. " I said that you alone knew where the treasure was con- cealed," continued Krantz, "that you might be sent for, for in all probability he will keep me as a hostage: but never mind that ; I must take my chance. Do you contrive to escape somehow or other, and rejoin Amine." "Not so," rejoined Philip; "you must go witli me, my friend : I feel that, should I part with you, happiness would no longer be in store for me." 302 THE PHANTOM SHIP "Nonsense that is but an idle feeling; besides, I will evade him somehow or another." " I will not show the treasure unless you go with me." " Well you may try it, at all events." A low tap at the door was heard. Philip rose and opened it (for they had retired to rest), and Pedro came in. Looking carefully round him, and then shutting the door softly, he put his finger on his lips, to enjoin them to silence. He then in a whisper told them what he had overheard. " Contrive, if pos- sible, that I go with you," continued he. "I must leave you now ; he still paces his room." And Pedro slipped out of the door, and crawled stealthily away along the ramparts. "The treacherous little rascal! But we will circumvent him if possible," said Krantz, in a low tone. " Yes, Philip, you are right ; we must both go, for you will require my assistance. I must persuade him to go himself. I'll think of it so, Philip, good night." The next morning Philip and Krantz were summoned to breakfast ; the commandant received them with smiles and urbanity. To Philip he was peculiarly courteous. As soon as the repast was over, he thus communicated to him his intentions and wishes : " Signor, I have been reflecting upon what your friend told me^ and the appearance of the spectre yesterday, which created such confusion ; it induced me to behave with a rash- ness for which I must now offer my most sincere apologies. The reflections which I have made, joined with the feelings of devotion which must be in the heart of every true Catholic, have determined me, with your assistance, to obtain this treasure dedicated to the Holy Church. It is my proposal that you should take a party of soldiers under your orders, proceed to the island on which it is deposited, and having obtained it, return here. I will detain any vessel which may in the meantime put into the roadstead, and you shall then be the bearers of the treasure and of my letters to Goa. This will give you an honourable introduction to the authorities, and enable you to pass away your time there in the most agreeable manner. You will also, signer, be restored to your wife, whose charms had such an effect upon me ; and for men* tion of whose name in the very unceremonious manner which I did, I must excuse myself upon the ground of total ignor- 303 THE PHANTOM SHIP ance of who she was, or of her being in any way connected with your honourable person. If these measures suit you, signor, I shall be most happy to give orders to that effect." " As a good Catholic myself," replied Philip, " I shall be most happy to point out the spot where the treasure is concealed, and restore it to the Church. Your apologies relative to my wife I accept with pleasure, being aware that your conduct proceeded from ignorance of her situation and rank ; but I do not exactly see my way clear. You propose a party of soldiers. Will they obey me ? Are they to be trusted ? I shall have only myself and friend against them, and will they be obedient?" " No fear of that, signor, they are well disciplined ; there is not even occasion for your friend to go with you. I wish to retain him with me, to keep me company during your absence." " Nay ! that I must object to," replied Philip ; " I will not trust myself alone." " Perhaps I may be allowed to give an opinion on this sub- ject," observed Krantz. " I see no reason, if my friend goes accompanied with a party of soldiers only, why I should not go with him ; but I consider it would be unadvisable that he proceed in the way the commandant proposes, either with or without me. You must recollect, commandant, that it is no trifling sum which is to be carried away ; that these men have been detained many years in this country, and are anxious to return home. When, therefore, they find themselves with only two strangers with them away from your authority, and in possession of a large sum of money will not the temptation be too strong ? They will only have to run down the southern channel, gain the port of Bantam, and they will be safe ; having obtained both freedom and wealth. To send, therefore, my friend and me, would be to send us to almost certain death ; but if you were to go, commandant, then the danger would no longer exist. Your presence and your authority would control them ; and, whatever their wishes or thoughts might be, they would quail before the flash of your eye." "Very true very true," replied Philip "all this did not occur to me." Nor had it occurred to the commandant ; but, when pointed out, the force of these suggestions immediately struck him, 304 THE PHANTOM SHIP and long before Krantz had finished speaking, he had resolved to go himself. " Well, signers," replied he, " I am always ready to accede to your wishes ; and since you consider my presence necessary, and as I do not think there is any chance of another attack from the Ternate people just now, I will take upon myself the responsibility of leaving the fort for a few days under the charge of my lieutenant, while we do this service to holy Mother Church. I have already sent for one of the native vessels, which are large and commodious, and will, with your permission, embark to-morrow." " Two vessels will be better," observed Krantz ; " in the first place, in case of an accident ; and next, because we can embark all the treasure in one with ourselves, and put a portion of the soldiers in the other ; so that we may be in greater force, in case of the sight of so much wealth stimulat- ing them to insubordination." "True, signer, we will have two vessels; your advice is good." Everything was thus satisfactorily arranged, with the excep- tion of their wish that Pedro should accompany them on their expedition. They were debating how this should be brought on the tapis, when the soldier came to them, and stated that the commandant had ordered him to be of the party, and that he was to offer his services to the two strangers. On the ensuing day everything was prepared. Ten soldiers and a corporal had been selected by the commandant ; and it required but little time to put into the vessels the provisions and other articles which were required. At daylight they em- barked the commandant and Philip in one boat ; Krantz, with the corporal and Pedro, in the other. The men, who had been kept in ignorance of the object of the expedition, were now made acquainted with it by Pedro, and a long whispering took place between them, much to the satisfaction of Krantz, who was aware that the mutiny would soon be ex- cited, when it was understood that those who composed the expedition were to be sacrificed to the avarice of the com- mandant. The weather being fine, they sailed on during the night, passed the island of Ternate at ten leagues' dis- tance, and before morning were among the cluster of isles, the southernmost of which was the one on which the treasure 305 y THE PHANTOM SHIP had been buried. On the second night the vessels were beached upon a small island ; and then, for the first time, a communication took place between the soldiers who had been in the boat with Pedro and Krantz, and those who had been embarked with the commandant. Philip and Krantz had also an opportunity of communicating apart for a short time. When they made sail the next morning, Pedro spoke openly; he told Krantz that the soldiers in the boat had made up their minds, and that he had no doubt that the others would do so before night ; although they had not decidedly agreed upon joining them in the morning when they were embarked. That they would despatch the com- mandant, and then proceed to Batavia, and from thence obtain a passage home to Europe. " Can you accomplish your end without murder ? " " Yes, we could ; but not our revenge. You do not know the treatment which we have received from his hands ; and sweet as the money will be to us, his death will be even sweeter. Besides, has he not determined to murder us all in some way or another? It is but justice. No, no; if there was no >ther knife ready mine is." " And so are all ours ! " cried the other soldiers, putting their hands to their weapons. One more day's sail brought them within twenty miles of the island ; for Philip knew his landmarks well. Again thev landed, and all retired to rest, the commandant dreaming of wealth and revenge ; while it was arranged that the digging up of the treasure which he coveted should be the signal for his death. Once more did they embark, and the commandant heeded not the dark and lowering faces with which he was surrounded. He was all gaiety and politeness. Swiftly did they skim over the dark blue sea, between the beautiful islands with which it was studded ; and before the sun was three hours high, Philip recognised the one sought after, and pointed out to the com- mandant the notched cocoa-nut tree, which served as a guide to the spot where the money had been concealed. They landed on a sandy beach, and the shovels were ordered to be brought on shore by the impatient little officer, who little thought that every moment of time gained \vas but so much THE PHANTOM SHIP time lost to him, and that while he was smiling and meditating treachery, that others could do the same. The party arrived under the tree the shovels soon re- moved the light sand, and in a few minutes the treasure was exposed to view. Bag after bag was handed up, and the loose dollars collected into heaps. Two of the soldiers had been sent to the vessels for sacks to put the loose dollars in, aiul the men had desisted from their labour ; they laid aside their spades, looks were exchanged, and all were ready. The commandant turned round to call to and hasten the movements of the men who had been sent for the sacks, when three or four knives simultaneously pierced him through the back ; he fell, and was expostulating, when they were again buried in his bosom, and he lay a corpse. Philip and Krantz remained silent spectators the knives were drawn out, wiped, and replaced in their sheaths. " He has met his reward," said Krantz. "Yes," exclaimed the Portuguese soldiers ''justice, nothing but justice." "Signers, you shall have your share,' observed Pedro; "shall they not, my men?" "Yes! yes!" " Not one dollar, my good friends," replied Philip ; " take all the money, and may you be happy ; all we ask is your assistance to proceed on our way to where we are about to go. And now, before you divide your money, oblige me by bury- ing the body of that unfortunate man." The soldiers obeyed. Resuming their shovels, they soon scooped out a shallow grave : the commandant's body was thrown in, and covered up from sight. CHAPTER XXXIX SCARCELY had the soldiers performed their task, and thrown down their shovels, when they commenced an altercation. It appeared that this money was to be again the cause of slaughter and bloodshed. Philip and Krantz determined to sail imme- diately in one of the peroquas, and leave them to settle their disputes as they pleased. He asked permission of the soldiers 307 THE PHANTOM SHIP lo take from the provisions and water, of which there was ample supply, a larger proportion than was their share; stating that he and Krantz had a long voyage and would require it, and pointing out to them that there were plenty of cocoa- nuts for their support. The soldiers, who thought of nothing but their newly acquired wealth, allowed him to do as he pleased ; and having hastily collected as many cocoa-nuts as they could, to add to their stock of provisions, before noon Philip and Krantz had embarked, and made sail in the peroqua, leaving the soldiers with their knives again drawn, and so busy in their angry altercation as to be heedless of their departure. " There will be the same scene over again, I expect," ob- served Krantz, as the vessel parted swiftly from the shore. " I have little doubt of it ; observe, even now, they are at blows and stabs." " If I were to name the spot, it should be the ' Accursed hie.' " " Would not any other be the same, with so much to inflame the passions of men ? " " Assuredly ; what a curse is gold 1 " " And what a blessing . " replied Krantz. " I am sorry Pedro is left with them." "It is their destiny," replied Philip; "so let's think no more of them. Now what do you propose ? With this vessel, small as she is, we may sail over the seas in safety, and we have, I imagine, provisions sufficient for more than a month." " My idea is, to run into the track of the vessels going to the westward, and obtain a passage to Goa." " And if we do not meet with anv, we can, at all events, proceed up the Straits, as far as Pulo Penang, without risk. There we may safely remain until a vessel passes." " I agree with you ; it is our best, nay, our only place ; un- less, indeed, we were to proceed to Cochin, where junks are always leaving for Goa." " But that would be out of our way, and the junks cannot well pass us in the Straits, without their being seen by us." They had no difficulty in steering their course ; the islands by day, and the clear stars by night, were their compass. It is true that they did not follow the more direct track, but THE PHANTOM SHIP they followed the more secure, working up the smooth waters, and gaining to the northward more than to the west. Many times they were chased by the Malay proas, which infested the islands, but the swiftness of their little peroqua was their security; indeed, the chase was, generally speaking, abandoned as soon as the smallness of the vessel was made out by the pirates, who expected that little or no booty was to be gained. That Amine and Philip's mission was the constant theme of their discourse may easily be imagined. One morning, as they were sailing between the isles, with less wind than usual, Philip observed " Krantz, you said that there were events in your own life, or connected with it, which would corroborate the mysterious tale I confided to you. Will you now tell me to what you referred ? " " Certainly," replied Krantz ; " I have often thought of doing so, but one circumstance or another has hitherto pre- vented me ; this is, however, a fitting opportunity. Prepare therefore to listen to a strange story, quite as strange, per- haps, as your own. " I take it for granted that you have heard people speak of the Hartz Mountains," observed Krantz. " I have never heard people speak of them, that I can recollect," replied Philip ; " but I have read of them in some book, and of the strange things which have occurred there." " It is indeed a wild region," rejoined Krantz, "and many strange tales are told of it ; but strange as they are, I have good reason for believing them to be true. I have told you, Philip, that I fully believe in your communion with the other world that I credit the history of your father, and the lawful- ness of your mission ; for that we are surrounded, impelled, and worked upon by beings different in their nature from ourselves, I have had full evidence, as you will acknowledge when I state what has occurred in my own family. Why such malevolent beings as I am about to speak of should be per- mitted to interfere with us, and punish, I may say, compara- tively unoffending mortals, is beyond my comprehension ; but that they are so permitted is most certain." "The great principle of all evil fulfils his work of evil; why, then, not the other minor spirits of the same class ? " 309 THE PHANTOM SHIP inquired Philip. " What matters it to us whether we are tried by, and have to suffer from, the enmity of our fellow-mortals, or whether we are persecuted by beings more powerful and more malevolent than ourselves ? We know that we have to work out our salvation, and that we shall be judged according to our strength ; if then there be evil spirits who delight to oppose man, there sui'ely must be, as Amine asserts, good spirits, whose delight is to do him service. Whether, then, we have to struggle against our passions only, or whether we have to struggle not only against our passions, but also the dire influence of unseen enemies, we ever struggle with the same odds in our favour, as the good are stronger than the evil which we combat. In either case we are on the vantage ground, whether, as in the first, we fight the good cause single-handed, or as in the second, although opposed, we have the host of heaven ranged on our side. Thus are the scales of Divine justice evenly balanced, and man is still a free agent, as his own virtuous or vicious pro- pensities must ever decide whether he shall gain or lose the victory." " Most true," replied Krantz, "and now to my history. " My father was not born, or originally a resident, in the Hartz Mountains ; he was a serf of an Hungarian nobleman, of great possessions, in Transylvania ; but although a serf, he was not by any means a poor or illiterate man. In fact, he was rich, and his intelligence and respectability were such, that he had been raised by his lord to the stewardship ; but, whoever may happen to be born a serf, a serf must he remain, even though he become a wealthy man : and such was the condition of my father. My father had been married for about five years ; and by his marriage had three children my eldest brother Caesar, myself (Hermann), and a sister named Marcella. You know, Philip, that Latin is still the language spoken in that country ; and that will account for our high-sounding names. My mother was a very beautiful woman, unfortunately more beautiful than virtuous ; she was seen and admired by the lord of the soil ; my father was sent away upon some mission, and during his absence, my mother, flattered by the attentions, and won by the assiduities of this nobleman, yielded to his wishes. It so happened that my father returned very unexpectedly, and discovered the intrigue. 310 THE PHANTOM SHIP The evidence of my mother's shame was positive; he sur- prised her in the company of her seducer ! Carried away by the impetuosity of his feelings, he watched the opportunity of a meeting taking place between them, and murdered both his wife and her seducer. Conscious that, as a serf, not even the provocation which he had received would be allowed as a justification of his conduct, he hastily collected together what money he could lay his hands upon, and, as we were then in the depth of winter, he put his horses to the sleigh, and taking his children with him, he set off in the middle of the night, and was far away before the tragical circumstance had tran- spired. Aware that he would be pursued, and that he had no chance of escape if he remained in any portion of his native country (in which the authorities could lay hold of him), he continued his flight without intermission until he had buried himself in the intricacies and seclusion of the Hartz Moun- tains. Of course, all that I have now told you I learned afterwards. My oldest recollections are knit to a rude, yet comfortable cottage, in which I lived with my father, brother, and sister. It was on the confines of one of those vast forests which cover the northern part of Germany ; around it were a few acres of ground, which, during the summer months, my father cultivated, and which, though they yielded a doubtful harvest, were sufficient for our support. In the winter we remained much indoors, for, as my father followed the eh; se, we were left alone, and the wolves during that season in- cessantly prowled about. My father had purchased the cottage, and land about it, of one of the rude foresters, who gain their livelihood partly by hunting, and partly by burning charcoal, for the purpose of smelting the ore from the neigh- bouring mines ; it was distant about two miles from any other habitation. I can call to mind the whole landscape now ; the tall pines which rose up on the mountain above us, and the wide expanse of the forest beneath, on the topmost boughs and heads of whose trees we looked down from our cottage, as the mountain below us rapidly descended into the distant valley. In summer time the prospect was beautiful : but during the severe winter a more desolate scene could not well be imagined. " I said that, in the winter, my father occupied himself with the chase ; every day he left us, and often would he lock the 811 THE PHANTOM SHIP door, that we might not leave the cottage. He had no one to assist him, or to take care of us indeed, it was not easy to find a female servant who would live in such a solitude ; but, could he have found one, my father would not have received her, for he had imbibed a horror of the sex, as the difference of his conduct towards us, his two boys, and my poor little sister Marcella evidently proved. You may suppose we were sadly neglected; indeed, we suffered much, for my father, fearful that we might come to some harm, would not allow us fuel when he left the cottage ; and we were obliged, there- fore, to creep under the heaps of bears' skins, and there to keep ourselves as warm as we could until he returned in the evening, when a blazing fire was our delight. That my father chose this restless sort of life may appear strange, but the fact was, that he could not remain quiet ; whether from the remorse for having committed murder, or from the misery consequent on his change of situation, or from both combined, he was never happy unless he was in a state of activity. Chil- dren, however, when left so much to themselves, acquire a thoughtfulness not common to their age. So it was with us ; and during the short cold days of winter, we would sit silent, longing for the happy hours when the snow would melt and the leaves would burst out, and the birds begin their songs, and when we should again be set at liberty. "Such was our peculiar ind savage sort of life until my brother Caesar was. nine, myself seven, and my sister five years eld, when the circumstances occurred on which is based the extraordinary narrative which I am about to relate. " One evening my father returned home rather later than usual ; he had been unsuccessful, and, as the weather was very severe, and many feet of snow were upon the ground, he was not only very cold, but in a very bad humour. He had brought in wood, and we were all three gladly assisting each other in blowing on the embers to create a blaze, when he caught poor little Marcella by the arm and threw her aside ; the child fell, struck her mouth, and bled very much. My brother ran to raise her up. Accustomed to ill-usage, and afraid of my father, she did not dare to cry, but looked up in his face very piteously. My father drew his stool nearer to the hearth, muttered something in abuse of women, and busied himself the fire, which both my brother and I had deserted when 312 THE PHANTOM SHIP our sister was so unkindly treated. A cheerful blaze was soon the result of his exertions ; but we did not, as usual, crowd round it. Marcella, still bleeding, retired to a corner, and my brother and I took our seats beside her, while my father hung over the fire gloomily and alone. Such had been our position for about half-an-hour, when the howl of a wolf, close under the window of the cottage, fell on our ears. My father started up, and seized his gun ; the howl was repeated, he examined the priming, and then hastily left the cottage, shutting the door after him. We all waited (anxiously listening), for we thought that if he succeeded in shooting the wolf, he would return in a better humour ; and, although he was harsh to all of us, and particularly so to our little sister, still we all loved our father, and loved to see him cheerful and happy, for what else had we to look up to ? And I may here observe, that perhaps there never were three children who were fonder of each other ; we did not, like other children, fight and dispute together ; and if, by chance, any disagreement did arise between my elder brother and me, little Marcel hi would run to us, and kissing us both, seal, through her entreaties, the peace between us. Marcella was a lovely, amiable child ; I can recall her beautiful features even now. Alas ! poor little Marcella." " She is dead, then ? " observed Philip. " Dead ! yes, dead ! but how did she die ? But I must not anticipate, Philip ; let me tell my story. " We waited for some time, but the report of the gun did not reach us, and my elder brother then said, ' Our father has followed the wolf, and will not be back for some time. Marcella, let us wash the blood from your mouth, and then we will leave this corner and go to the fire to warm ourselves.' " We did so, and remained there until near midnight, every minute wondering, as it grew later, why our father did not return. We had no idea that he was in any danger, but we thought that he must have chased the wolf for a very long time. ' I will look out and see if father is coming,' said my brother Caesar, going to the door. ' Take care,' said Marcella, ' the wolves must be about now, and we cannot kill them, brother.' My brother opened the door very cautiously, and but a few inches ; he peeped out. ' I see nothing/ said he ( THE PHANTOM SHIP after a time, and once more he joined us at the fire. ' We have had no supper/ said I, for my father usually cooked the meal as soon as he came home ; and during his absence we had nothing but the fragments of the preceding day. " ' And if our father comes home, after his hunt, Caesar,' said Marcella, ' he will be pleased to have some supper ; let us cook it for him and for ourselves.' Caesar climbed upon the stool, and reached down some meat I forget now whether it was venison or bear's meat, but we cut off the usual quantity, and proceeded to dress it, as we used to do under our father's superintendence. We were all busy putting it into the platters, before the fire, to await his coming, when we heard the sound of a horn. We listened there was a noise outside, and a minute afterwards my father entered, ushered in a young female, and a large dark man in a hunter's dress. " Perhaps I had better now relate what was only known to me many years afterwards. When my father had left the cottage, he perceived a large white wolf about thirty yards from him ; as soon as the animal saw my father, it retreated slowly, growling and snarling. My father followed ; the animal did not run, but always kept at some distance ; and my father did not like to fire until he was pretty certain that his ball would take effect ; thus they went on for some time, the wolf now leaving my father far behind, and then stopping and snarling defiance at him, and then, again, on his approach, setting off at speed. ''Anxious to shoot the animal (for the white wolf is very rare), my father continued the pursuit for several hours, during which he continually ascended the mountain. " You must know, Philip, that there are peculiar spots on those mountains which are supposed, and, as my story will prove, truly supposed, to be inhabited by the evil influences : they are well known to the huntsmen, who invariably avoid them. Now, one of these spots, an open space in the pine forest above us, had been pointed out to my father as dangerous on that account. But whether he disbelieved these wild stories, or whether, in his eager pursuit of the chase, he disre- garded them, I know not ; certain, however, it is, that he was decoyed by the white wolf to this open space, when the animal appeared to slacken her speed. My father approached, came close up to her, raised his gun to his shoulder, and was about THE PHANTOM SHIP to fire, when the wolf suddenly disappeared. He thought that the snow on the ground must have dazzled his sight, and he let down his gun to look for the beast but she was gone ; how she could have escaped over the clearance, without his seeing her, was beyond his comprehension. Mortified at the ill-success of his chase, he was about to retrace his steps, when he heard the distant sound of a horn. Astonishment at such a sound at such an hour in such a wilderness, made him forget for the moment his disappointment, and he remained riveted to the spot. In a minute the horn was blown a second time, and at no great distance ; my father stood still, and listened ; a third time it was blown. I forget the term used to express it, but it was the signal which, my father well knew, implied that the party was lost in the woods. In a few minutes more my father beheld a man on horseback, with a female seated on the crupper, enter the cleared space, and ride up to him. At first, my father called to mind the strange stories which he had heard of the supernatural beings who were said to frequent these mountains ; but the nearer approach of the parties satis- fied him that they were mortals like himself. As soon as they came up to him, the man who guided the horse accosted him. * Friend hunter, you are out late, the better fortune for us ; we have ridden far, and are in fear of our lives, which are eagerly sought after. These mountains have enabled us to elude our pursuers ; but if we find not shelter and refresh- ment, that will avail us little, as we must perish from hunger and the inclemency of the night. My daughter, who rides behind me, is now more dead than alive say, can you assist us in our difficulty ? ' " ' My cottage is some few miles distant/ replied my father, 'but I have little to offer you besides a shelter from the weather ; to the little I have you are welcome. May I ask whence you come ? ' " ' Yes, friend, it is no secret now ; we have escaped from Transylvania, where my daughter's honour and my life were equally in jeopardy ! ' "This information was quite enough to raise an interest in my father's heart. He remembered his own escape : he remembered the loss of his wife's honour, and the tragedy by which it was wound up. He immediately, and warmly, offered all the assistance wHlch he could afford them. THE PHANTOM SHIP u< There is no time to be lost, then, good sir,' observed the horseman ; ' my daughter is chilled with the frost, and cannot hold out much longer against the severity of the weather.' " ' Follow me,' replied my father, leading the way towards his home. " < I was lured away in pursuit of a large white wolf/ ob- served my father ; ' it came to the very window of my hut, or I should not have been out at this time of night.' "'The creature passed by us just as we came out of the wood," said the female, in a silvery tone. " ' I was nearly discharging my piece at it,' observed the hunter ; ' but since it did us such good service, I am glad I allowed it to escape.' " In about an hour and a half, during which my father walked at a rapid pace, the party arrived at the cottage, and, as I said before, came in. " ' We are in good time, apparently,' observed the dark hunter, catching the smell of the roasted meat, as he walked to the fire and surveyed my brother and sister and myself. ' You have young cooks here, Meinheer.' ' I am glad that we shall not have to wait,' replied my father. * Come, mistress, seat yourself by the fire ; you require warmth after your cold ride.' 'And where can I put up my horse, Meinheer?' ob- served the huntsman. ' I will take care of him/ replied my father, going out of the cottage door. "The female must, however, be particularly described. She was young, and apparently twenty years of age. She was dressed in a travelling dress, deeply bordered with white fur, and wore a cap of white ermine on her head. Her features were very beautiful, at least I thought so, and so my father has since declared. Her hair was flaxen, glossy, and shining, and bright as a mirror ; and her mouth, although somewhat large when it was open, showed the most brilliant teeth I have ever beheld. But there was something about her eyes, bright as they were, which made us children afraid ; they were so restless, so furtive ; I could not at that time tell why, but I felt as if there was cruelty in her eye; and when she beckoned us to come to her, we approached her with fear and trembling. Still she was beautiful, very beautiful. She spoke kindly to my brother and myself, patted our heads and caressed us ; b,ut Marcella would not come near her; on the contrary, sho THE PHANTOM SHIP slunk away, and hid herself in the bed, and would not wait for the supper, which half-an-hour before she had been so anxious for. " My father, having put the horse into a close shed, soon returned, and supper was placed on the table. When it was over, my father requested that the young lady would take possession of the bed, and he would remain at the fire, and sit up with her father. After some hesitation on her part, this arrangement was agreed to, and I and my brother crept into the other bed with Marcella, for we had as yet always slept together. " But we could not sleep ; there was something so unusual, not only in seeing strange people, but in having those people sleep at the cottage, that we were bewildered. As for poor little Marcella, she was quiet, but I perceived that she trembled during the whole night, and sometimes I thought that she was checking a sob. My father had brought out some spirits, which he rarely used, and he and the strange hunter remained drinking and talking before the fire. Our ears were ready to catch the slightest whisper- so much was our curiosity excited. "'You said you came from Transylvania?' observed my father. " ' Even so, Meinheer,' replied the hunter. ' I was a serf to the noble house of ; my master would insist upon my surrendering up my fair girl to his wishes : it ended in my giving him a few inches of my hunting-knife.' " ' We are countrymen and brothers in misfortune,' replied my father, taking the huntsman's hand, and pressing it warmly. " ' Indeed ! Are you then from that country ? ' " ' Yes ; and I too have fled for my life. But mine is a melancholy tale.' *' ' Your name ? ' inquired the hunter. " ' Krantz.' " ' What ! Krantz of ? I have heard your tale ; you need not renew your grief by repeating it now. Welcome, most welcome, Meinheer, and, I may say, my worthy kins- man. I am your second cousin, Wilfred of Barnsdorf,' cried the hunter, rising up and embracing my father. " They filled their horn-mugs to the brim, and drank to one another after me German fashion. The conversation was 317 THE PHANTOM SHIP then carried on in a low tone ; all that we could collect from it was that our new relative and his daughter were to take up their abode in our cottage, at least for the present. In about an hour they both fell back in their chairs and appeared to sleep. " ' Marcella, dear, did you hear ? ' said my brother, in a low tone. " ' Yes,' replied Marcella, in a whisper, ' I heard all. Ch ! brother, I cannot bear to look upon that woman 1 feel so frightened.' "My brother made no reply, and shortly afterwards we were all three fast asleep. " When we awoke the next morning, we found that the hunter's daughter had risen before us. I thought she looked more beautiful than ever. She came up to little Marcella and caressed her; the child burst into tears, and sobbed as if her heart would break. " But not to detain you with too long a story, the hunts- man and his daughter were accommodated in the cottage. My father and he went out hunting daily, leaving Christina with us. She performed all the household duties ; was very kind to us children ; and gradually the dislike even of little Marcella wore away. But a great change took place in my father ; he appeared to have conquered his aversion to the sex and was most attentive to Christina. Often, after her father and we were in bed, would he sit up with her, con- versing in a low tone by the fire. I ought to have men- tioned that my father and the huntsman Wilfred slept in another portion of the cottage, and that the bed which he formerly occupied, and which was in the same room as ours, had been given up to the use of Christina. These visitors had been about three weeks at the cottage, when, one night, after we children had been sent to bed, a consul- tation was held. My father had asked Christina in marriage, and had obtained both her own consent and that of Wilfred ; after this, a conversation took place, which was, as nearly as I can recollect, as follows : " ' You may take my child, Meinheer Krantz, and my blessing with her, and I shall then leave you and seek some other habitation it matters little where.' '"Why not remain here, Wilfred ?' SIS THE PHANTOM SHIP " ' No, no, I am called elsewhere ; let that suffice, and ask no more questions. You have my child.' " ' I thank you for her, and will duly value her ; but there is one difficulty.' " ' I know what you would say ; there is no priest here in this wild country : true ; neither is there any law to bind. Still must some ceremony pass between you, to satisfy a father. Will you consent to marry her after my fashion ? if so, I will marry you directly.' " ' I will/ replied my father. " ' Then take her by the hand. Now, Meinheer, swear.' " ' I swear/ repeated my father. " ( By all the spirits of the Hartz Mountains " ' Nay, why not by Heaven ? ' interrupted my father. " ' Because it is not my humour/ rejoined Wilfred. ' If I prefer that oath, less binding, perhaps, than another, surely you will not thwart me.' " ' Well, be it so then ; have your humour. Will you make me swear by that in which I do not believe ? ' "'Yet many do so, who in outward appearance ai-e Christians/ rejoined Wilfred ; 'say, will you be married, or shall I take my daughter away with me ? ' " ' Proceed/ replied my father impatiently. " ' I swear by all the spirits of the Hartz Mountains, by all their power for good or for evil, that I take Christina for my wedded wife ; that I will ever protect her, cherish her, and love her ; that my hand shall never be raised against her to harm her.' " My father repeated the words after Wilfred. " ' And if I fail in this my vow, may all the vengeance of the spirits fall upon me and upon my children ; may they perish by the vulture, by the wolf, or other beasts of the forest ; may their flesh be torn from their limbs, and their bones blanch in the wilderness : all this I swear.' " My father hesitated, as he repeated the last words ; little Marcella could not restrain herself, and as my father repeated the last sentence, she burst into tears. This sudden inter- ruption appeared to discompose the party, particularly my father; he spoUe harshly to the child, who controlled her sobs, burying her face under the bedclothes. " Such was the second marriage of my father. The next 319 THE PHANTOM SHIP morning, the hunter Wilfred mounted his horse and rode away. " My father resumed his bed, which was in the same room as ours ; and things went on much as before the marriage, except that our new mother-in-law did not show any kindness towards us ; indeed, during my father's absence, she would often beat us, particularly little Marcella, and her eyes would flash fire, as she looked eagerly upon the fair and lovely child. " One night my sister awoke me and my brother. " ' What is the matter ? ' said Caesar. " ' She has gone out/ whispered Marcella. ' Gone out ! ' " ' Yes, gone out at the door, in her night-clothes,' replied the child ; ' I saw her get out of bed, look at my father to see if he slept, and then she went out at the door.' " What could induce her to leave her bed, and all undressed to go out, in such bitter wintry weather, with the snow deep on the ground, was to us incomprehensible ; we lay awake, and in about an hour we heard the growl of a wolf cltse under the window. " ' There is a wolf/ said Caesar. ' She will be torn to pieces.' " ' Oh no ! ' cried Marcella. " In a few minutes afterwards our mother-in-law appeared ; she was in her night-dress, as Marcella had stated. She let down the latch of the door, so as to make no noise, went to a pail of water, and washed her face and hands, and then slipped into the bed where my father lay. " We all three trembled we hardly knew why ; but we resolved to watch the next night. We did so ; and not only on the ensuing night but on many others, and always at about the same hour, would our mother-in-law rise from her bed and leave the cottage ; and after she was gone we invariably heard the growl of a wolf under our window, and always saw her on her return wash herself before she retired to bed. We observed also that she seldom sat down to meals, and that when she did she appeared to eat with dislike ; but when the meat was taken down to be prepared for dinner, she wouu! often furtively put a raw piece into her month. " My brother Caesar was a courageous boy ; he did not like to speak to my father until he knew more. He resolved that he would follow her out, and ascertain what she did. Marcella 320 THE PHANTOM SHIP and T endeavoured to dissuade him from the project ; but he would not be controlled ; and the very next night he lay down in his clothes, and as soon as our mother-in-law had left the cottage he jumped up, took down my father's gun, and followed her. " You may imagine in what a state of suspense Marcella and I remained during his absence. After a few minutes we heard the report of a gun. It did not awaken my father ; and we lay trembling with anxiety. In a minute afterwards we saw our mother-in-law enter the cottage her dress was bloody. I put my hand to Marcella's mouth to prevent her crying out, although I was myself in great alarm. Our mother-in-law a\y- proached my father's bed, looked to see if he was asleep, and then went to the chimney and blew up the embers into a blaze. " ' Who is there ? ' said my father, waking up. " ' Lie still, dearest,' replied my mother-in-law ; ' it is only me ; I have lighted the fire to warm some water ; I am not quite well.' " My father turned round, and was soon asleep ; but we watched our mother-in-law. She changed her linen, and threw the garments she had worn into the fire ; and we then per- ceived that her right leg was bleeding profusely, as if from a gun-shot wound. She bandaged it up, and then dressing her- self, remained before the fire until the break of day. "Poor little Marcella, her heart beat quick as she pressed me to her side so indeed did mine. Where was our brother Caesar ? How did my mother-in-law receive the wound unless from his gun ? At last my father rose, and then for the first time I spoke, saying, ' Father, where is my brother Caesar ? ' " ' Your brother ? ' exclaimed he ; ' why, where can he be ? ' " ' Merciful Heaven ! I thought, as I lay very restless last night,' observed our mother-in-law, ' that I heard somebody open the latch of the door ; and, dear me, husband, what has become of your gun ? ' " My father cast his eyes up above the chimney, and per- ceived that his gun was missing. For a moment he looked perplexed ; then, seizing a broad axe, he went out of the cottage without saying another word. " He did not femain away from us long ; in a few minutes he returned, bearing in his arms the mangled body of my poor brother ; he laid it down, and covered up his face. 321 X THE PHANTOM SHIP n My mother-in-law rose up, and looked at the body, while Marcella and I threw ourselves by its side, wailing and sobbing bitterly. " ' Go to bed again, children/ said she sharply. ' Husband/ continued she, 'your boy must have taken the gun down to shoot a wolf, and the animal has been too powerful for him. Poor boy ! he has paid dearly for his rashness.' " My father made no reply. I wished to speak to tell all but Marcella, who perceived my intention, held me by the arm, and looked at me so imploringly, that I desisted. - " My father, therefore, was left in his error ; but Marcella and I, although we could not comprehend it, were conscious that our mother-in-law was in some way connected with my brother's death. " That day my father went out and dug a grave ; and when he laid the body in the earth, he piled up stones over it, so that the wolves should not be able to dig it up. The shock of this catastrophe was to my poor father very severe ; for several days he never went to the chase, although at times he would utter bitter anathemas and vengeance against the wolves. " But during this time of mourning on his part, my mother- in-law's nocturnal wanderings continued with the same regu- larity as before. " At last my father took down his gun to repair to the forest ; but he soon returned, and appeared much annoyed. " ' Would you believe it, Christina, that the wolves per- dition to the whole race ! have actually contrived to dig up the body of my poor boy, and now there is nothing left of him but his bones.' " ' Indeed ! ' replied my mother-in-law. Marcella looked at me, and I saw in her intelligent eye all she would have uttered. " ' A wolf growls under our window every night, father/ said I. " ' Ay, indeed ! Why did you not tell me, boy ? Wake me the next time you hear it.' " I saw my mother-in-law turn away ; her eyes flashed fire, and she gnashed her teeth. " My father went out again, and covered up with a larger pile of stones the little remains of my poor brother which the wolves had spared. Such was the first act of the tragedy. 322 THE PHANTOM SHIP " The spring now came on ; the snow disappeared, and we were permitted to leave the cottage ; but never would I quit for one moment my dear little sister, to whom, since the death of my brother, I was more ardently attached than ever ; indeed, I was afraid to leave her alone with my mother-in- law, who appeared to have a particular pleasure in ill-treating the child. My father was now employed upon his little farm, and I was able to render him some assistance. " Marcella used to sit by us while we were at work, leaving my mother-in-law alone in the cottage. I ought to observe that, as the spring advanced, so did my mother-in-law de- crease her nocturnal rambles, and that we never heard the growl of the wolf under the window after I had spoken of it to my father. " One day, when my father and I were in the field, Marcella being with us, my mother-in-law came out, saying that she was going into the forest to collect some herbs my father wanted, and that Marcella must go to the cottage and watch the dinner. Marcella went; and my mother-in-law soon disap- peared in the forest, taking a direction quite contrary to that in which the cottage stood, and leaving my father and I, as it were, between her and Marcella. "About an hour afterwards we were startled by shrieks from the cottage evidently the shrieks of little Marcella. 'Marcella has burnt herself, father,' said I, throwing down my spade. My father threw down his, and we both hastened to the cottage. Before we could gain the door, out darted a large white wolf, which fled with the utmost celerity. My father had no weapon ; he rushed into the cottage, and there saw poor little Marcella expiring. Her body was dreadfully mangled, and the blood pouring from it had formed a large pool on the cottage floor. My father's first intention had been to seize his gun and pursue ; but he was checked by this horrid spectacle ; he knelt down by his dying child, and burst into tears. Marcella could just look kindly on us for a few seconds, and then her eyes were closed in death. " My father and I were still hanging over my poor sister's body, when my mother-in-law came in. At the dreadful sight she expressed much concern ; but she did not appear to recoil from the sight of blood, as most women do. " ' Poor child 1 ' said she, ' it must have been that great THE PHANTOM SHIP white wolf which passed me just now, and frightened me sy, the piles of wood and fagots, waiting for their victims. A mine could not walk ; she was at first supported by the familiars, and then carried hv them to the stake which had been assigned for her. When they put her on her feet oppo- site to it, her courage appeared to revive, she walked boldly up, folded her arms and leant against it. The executioners now commenced their office : the chains were passed round Amine's body the wood and fagots piled around her. The same preparations had been made with all the other culprits, and the confessors stood by the side of each victim. Amine waved her hand indignantly to those who approached her, when Father Mathias, almost breathless, made his appearance from the crowd, through which he had forced his way. " Amine Vanderdecken unhappy woman ! had you been counselled by me this would not have been. Now it is too late, but not too late to save your soul. Away then with this obstinacy this hardness of heart ; call upon the blessed Saviour, that He may receive your spirit call upon His wounds for mere}'. It is the eleventh hour, but not too late. Amine," continued the old man, with tears, " I implore you, I conjure you. At least, may this load of trouble be taken from my heart." " ' Unhappy woman I ' you say ? " replied she, " say rather, ' unhappy priest : ' for Amine's sufferings will soon be over, while you must still endure the torments of the damned. Unhappy was the day when my husband rescued you from death. Still more unhappy the compassion which prompted him to offer you an asylum and a refuge. Unhappy the knowledge of you from the Jirst day to the last. I leave you to your conscience if conscience you retain ; nor would I change this cruel death for the pangs which you in your future life will suffer. Leave me I die in the faith of my forefathers, and scorn a creed that warrants such a scene as this." "Amine "Vanderdecken," cried the priest on his knees, clasping his hands in agony. " Leave me, father." " There is but a minute left for the love of God " " I tell you then, leave me that minute is my own." Father Mathias turned away in despair, and the tears 339 THE PHANTOM SHIP coursed down the old man's cheeks. As Aminfe said, his misery was extreme. The head executioner now inquired of the confessors whether the culprits died in the true faith ? If answered in the affir- mative, a rope was passed round their necks and twisted to the stake, so that they were strangled before the fire was kindled. All the other culprits had died in this manner ; and the head executioner inquired of Father Mathias whether Amine had a claim to so much mercy. The old priest answered not, but shook his head. The executioner turned away. After a moment's pause, Father Mathias followed him, and seized him by the arm, saying, in a faltering voice, " Let her not suffer long." The Grand Inquisitor gave the signal, and the fires were all lighted at the same moment. In compliance with the request of the priest, the executioner had thrown a quantity of wet straw upon Amine's pile, which threw up a dense smoke be- fore it burnt into flames. "Mother! mother! I come to thee ! " were the last words heard from Amine's lips. The flames soon raged furiously, ascending high above the top of the stake to which she had been chained. Gradually they sunk down : and only when the burning embers covered the ground, a few fragments of bones hanging on the chain were all that remained of the once peerless and high-minded Amine. CHAPTER XLI iEARS have passed away since we related Amine's sufferings and cruel death ; and now once more we bring Philip Vander- decken on the scene. And during this time, where has he been ? A lunatic at one time frantic, chained, coerced with blows ; at others, mild and peaceable. Reason occasionally appeared to burst out again, as the sun on a cloudy day, and then it was again obscured. For many years there was one who watched him carefully, and lived in hope to witness his return to a sane mind ; he watched in sorrow and remorse he died without his desires being gratified. This was Father Mat!iias ! 840 THE PHANTOM SHIP The cottage at Terneuse had long fallen into ruin ; for many years it waited the return of its owners, and at last the heirs-at-law claimed and recovered the substance of Philip Vanderdecken. Even the fate of Amine had passed from the recollection of most people ; although her portrait over burning coals, with her crime announced beneath it, still hangs, as is the custom, in the church of the Inquisition attracting, from, its expressive beauty, the attention of the most careless passers-by. But many, many years have rolled away Philip's hair is white his once powerful frame is broken down and he appears much older than he really is. He is now sane ; but his vigour is gone. Weary of life, all he wishes for is to execute his mission and then to welcome death. The relic has never been taken from him ; he has been discharged from the lunatic asylum and has been provided with the means of returning to his country. Al;is ! he has now no country no home nothing in the world to induce him to remain in it. All he asks is to do his duty and to die. The ship was ready to sail for Europe, and Philip Vander- decken went on board hardly caring whither he went. To return to Terneuse was not his object ; he could not bear the idea of revisiting the scene of so much happiness and so much misery. Amine's form was engraven on his heart, and he looked forward with impatience to the time when he should be summoned to join her in the land of spirits. He had awakened as from a dream, after so many years of aberration of intellect. He was no longer the sincere Catholic that he had been ; for he never thought of religion without his Amine's cruel fate being brought to his recollection. Still he clung on to the relic he believed in that and that only. It was his god his creed his everything the passport for himself and for his father into the next world the means whereby he should join his Amine; and for hours would he remain holding in his hand that object so valued gazing upon it recalling every important event in his life, from the death of his poor mother, and his first sight of Amine, to the last dreadful scene. It was to him a journal of his existence, and on it were fixed all his hopes for the future. " When ! oh when is it to be accomplished ? " was the con 341 THE PHANTOM SHIP stant subject of his reveries. " Blessed indeed will be the da? when I leave this world of hate, and seek that other in which * the weary are at rest.' " The vessel on board of which Philip was embarked as a passenger was the Nostra Senora da Monte, a brig of three hundred tons, bound for Lisbon. The captain was an old Portuguese, full of superstition, and fond of arrack a fondness rather unusual with the people of his nation. They sailed from Goa, and Philip was standing abaft, and sadly con- templating the spire of the cathedral, in which he had last parted with his wife, when his elbow was touched, and he turned round. " Fellow-passenger, again!" said a well-known voice it was that of the pilot Schriften. There was no alteration in the man's appearance; he showed no marks of declining years ; his one eye glared as keenly as ever. Philip started, not only at the sight of the man, but at the reminiscences which his unexpected appearance brought to his mind. It was but for a second, and he was again calm and pensive. " You here again, Schriften ? " observed Philip. " I trust your appearance forebodes the accomplishment of my task." " Perhaps it does," replied the pilot ; " we both are weary." Philip made no reply ; he did . lot even ask Schriften in what manner he had escaped from the fort; he was indifferent about it ; for he felt that the man had a charmed life. " Many are the vessels that Vv- been wrecked, Philip Van- derdecken, and many the souls summoned to their account by meeting with your father's ship, while you have been so long shut up," observed the pilot. " May our next meeting with him be more fortunate may it be the last ! " replied Philip. " No, no ' rather may he fulfil his doom, and sail till the day of judgment !" replied the pilot, with emphasis. "Vile caitiff! I have a foreboding that you will not have your detestable wish. Away ! leave me ! or you shall find, that although this head is blanched by misery, this arm has still some power." Schriften scowled as he walked away ; he appeared to have some fear of Philip, although it was not equal to his hate. He 342 THE PHANTOM SHIP now resumed his former attempts of stirring up the ship's company against Philip, declaring that he was a Jonah, who would occasion the loss of the ship, and that he was connected with the Flying Dutchman. Philip very soon observed that he was avoided ; and he resorted to counter-statements, equally injurious to Schriften, whom he declared to be a demon. The appearance of Schriften was so much against him, while that of Philip, on the contrary, was so prepossessing, that the people on board hardly knew what to think. They were divided; some were on the side of Philip some on that of Schriften ; the captain and many others looking with equal horror upon both, and longing for the time when they could be sent out of the vessel. The captain, as we have before observed, was very super- stitious, and very fond of his bottle. In the morning he would be sober, and pray ; in the afternoon he would be drunk, and swear at the veiy saints whose protection he had invoked but a few hours before. " May holy Saint Antonio preserve us, and keep us from temptation," said he, on the morning after a conversation with the passengers about the Phantom Ship. " All the saints pro- tect us from harm," continued he, taking off his hat reveren- tially, and crossing himself. " Let me but rid myself of these two dangerous men without accident, and I will offer up a hundred wax candles, of three ounces each, to the shrine of the Virgin, upon my safe anchoring off the tower of Bclem." In the evening he changed his language. "Now, if that Maldetto Saint Antonio don't help us, may he feel the coals of hell yet ! damn him, and his pigs too ; if he has the courage to do his duty, all will be well ; but he is a cowardly wretch, he cares for nobody, and will not help those who call upon him in trouble. Carambo, that for you ! " exclaimed the captain, looking at the small shrine of the saint at the bittacle, and snapping his fingers at the image ; " that for you, you useless wretch, who never help us in our trouble. The Pope must canonise some better saints for us, for all we have now are worn out. They could do something formerly, but now I would not give two ounces of gold for the whole calendar ; as for you, you lazy old scoundrel " continued the captain, shaking his fist at poor Saint Antonio. 243 THE PHANTOM SHIP The ship had now gained off the southern coast of Africa, and was about one hundred miles from the Lagullas coast ; the morning was beautiful, a slight ripple onty turned over the waves, the breeze was light and steady, and the vessel was standing on a wind, at the rate of about four miles an hour. "Blessed be the holy saints," said the captain, who had just gained the deck ; " another little slant in our favour, and we shall lay our course. Again, I say, blessed be the holy saints, and particularly our worthy patron, Saint Antonio, who has taken under his peculiar protection the Nostra Senora da Monte. We have a prospect of fine weather ; come, signors, let us down to breakfast, and after breakfast we will enjoy our cigarros upon the deck." But the scene was soon changed ; a bank of clouds rose up from the eastward, with a rapidity that to the seamen's eyes was unnatural, and it soon covered the whole firmament ; the sun was obscured, and all was one deep and unnatural gloom ; the wind subsided, and the ocean was hushed. It was not exactly dark, but the heavens were covered with one red haze, which gave an appearance as if the world was in a state of conflagration. In the cabin the increased darkness was first observed by Philip, who went on deck ; he was followed by the captain and passengers, who were in a state of amazement. It was unnatural and incomprehensive. " Now, holy Virgin, protect us ! what can this be ? " exclaimed the captain, in a fright. " Holy Saint Antonio, protect us ! but this is awful." " There there ! " shouted the sailors, pointing to the beam of the vessel. Every eye looked over the gunnel to witness what had occasioned such exclamations. Philip, Schriften, and the captain were side by side. On the beam of the ship, not more than two cables' length distant, they beheld slowly rising out of the water the tapering masthead and spars of another vessel. She rose, and rose, gradually ; her topmasts and topsail yards, with the sails set, next made their appear- ance ; higher and higher she rose up from the element. Her lower masts and rigging, and, lastly, her hull showed itself above the surface. Still she rose up, till her ports, with her guns, aud at last the whole of her floatage was above water, 344 THE PHANTOM SHIP And there she remained close to them, with her main-yard squared, and hove-to. " Holy Virgin ! " exclaimed the captain, breathless ; K I have known ships to go down, but never to come up before. Now will I give one thousand candles, of ten ounces each, to the shrine of the Virgin, to save us in this trouble. One thousand wax candles ! Hear me, Blessed Lady, ten ounces each ! Gentlemen," cried the captain to the passengers, who stood aghast, " why don't you promise ? promise, I say promise, at all events." " The Phantom Ship the Flying Dutchman," shrieked Schriften ; " I told you so, Philip Vanderdecken ; there is your father. He, he !" Philip's eyes had remained fixed on the vessel ; he per- ceived that they were lowering down a boat from her quarter. " It is possible," thought he, " I shall now be permitted ! " and Philip put his hand into his bosom and grasped the relic. The gloom now increased, so that the strange vessel's hull could but just be discovered through the murky atmosphere. The seamen and passengers threw themselves down on their knees, and invoked their saints. The captain ran down for a candle, to light before the image of St. Antonio, which he took out of its shrine and kissed with much apparent affection and devotion, and then replaced. Shortly afterwards the splash of oars was heard alongside, and a voice calling out, " I say, my good people, give us a rope from forward." No one answered, or complied with the request. Schriften only went up to the captain, and told him that if they offered to send letters they must not be received, or the vessel would be doomed, and all would perish. A man now made his appearance from over the gunnel, at the gangway. " You might as well have let me had a side- rope, my hearties," said he, as he stepped on deck ; " where is the captain ? " " Here," replied the captain, trembling from head to foot. The man who accosted him appeared a weather-beaten sea- man, dressed in a fur cap and canvas petticoats ; he held gome letters in his hand. " What do you want ? " at last screamed the captain, 34$ THE PHANTOM SHIP " Yes what do you want?" continued Schriften. "He. he!" " What, you here, pilot ? " observed the man ; " well I thought you had gone to Davy's locker long enough ago " " He ! he !" replied Schriften, turning away. " Why, the fact is, captain, we have had very foul weather, and we wish to send letters home; I do believe that we shall never get round this cape." " I can't take them," cried the captain. " Can't take them ! well, it's very odd ; but every ship refuses to take our letters. It's very unkind ; seamen should have a feeling for brother seamen, especially in distress. God knows, we wish to see our wives and families again ; and it would be a matter of comfort to them if they only could hear from us." " I cannot take your letters the saints preserve us ! " replied the captain. " We have been a long while out," said the seaman, shaking his head. " How long ? " inquired the captain, not knowing what to say. " We can't tell ; our almanac was blown overboard, and we have lost our reckoning. We never have our latitude exact now, for we cannot tell the sun's declination for the right day." " Let me see your letters," said Philip, advancing and taking them out of the seaman's hands. "They must not be touched ! " screamed Schriften. "Out, monster!" replied Philip; "who dares interfere with me ? " "Doomed doomed doomed !" shrieked Schriften, run- ning up and down the deck, and then breaking into a wild fit of laughter. " Touch not the letters," said the captain, trembling as if in an ague fit. Philip m-ide no reply, but held his hand out for the letters. " Here is one from our second mate to his wife at Amster- dam, who lives on Waser Quay." " Waser Quay has long been gone, my good friend ; there is now a large dock for ships where it once was," replied Philip. THE PHANTOM SHIP w Impossible ! " replied the man ; " here is another from the boatswain to his father, who lives in the old market-place." "The old market-place has long been pulled down, and there now stands a church upon the spot." " Impossible ! " replied the seaman ; "here is another from myself to my sweetheart, Vrow Ketser with money to buy her a new brooch." Philip shook his head. " I remember seeing an old lady of that name buried some thirty years ago." " Impossible ! I left her young and blooming. Here's one for the house of Slutz & Co., to whom the ship belongs." " There's no such house now," replied Philip ; " but I have heard that many years ago there was a firm of that name." " Impossible ! you must be laughing at me. Here is a letter from our captain to his son " Give it me," cried Philip, seizing the letter. He was about to break the seal, when Schriften snatched it out of his hand, and threw it over the lee gunnel. . " That's a scurvy trick for an old shipmate," observed the seaman. Schriften made no reply, but catching up the other letters, which Philip had laid down on the capstan, he hurled them after the first. The strange seaman shed tears, and walked again to the side. " It is very hard very unkind," observed he, as he descended ; " the time may come when you may wish that your family should know your situation." So saying, he dis- appeared. In a few seconds was heard the sound of the oars retreating from the ship. " Holy Saint Antonio ! " exclaimed the captain. " I am lost in wonder and fright. Steward, bring me up the arrack." The steward ran down for the bottle ; being as much alarmed as his captain, he helped himself before he brought it up to his commander. " Now," said the captain, after keeping his mouth for two minutes to the bottle, and drain- ing it to the bottom, "what is to be done next ?" " I'll tell you," said Schriften, going up to him : " that man there has a charm hung round his neck ; take it from him and throw it overboard, and your ship will be saved ; if not, it will be lost, with every soul on board." 94,7 THE PHANTOM SHIP "Yes, yes, it's all right, depend upon it," cried the s, ilors. " Fools," replied Philip, " do you believe that wretch ? Did you not hear the man who came on board recognise him, and call him shipmate ? He is the party whose presence on board will prove so unfortunate." "Yes, yes," cried the sailors, "it's all right; the man did call him shipmate." "I tell you it's all wrong," cried Schriften ; "that is the man ; let him give up the charm." (t Yes, yes ; let him give up the charm," cried the sailors ; and they rushed upon Philip. Philip started back to where the captain stood. " Mad- men, know ye what ye are about ? It is the holy cross that I wear round my neck. Throw it overboard if you dare, and your souls are lost for ever;" and Philip took the relic from his bosom and showed it to the captain. "No, no, men," exclaimed the captain, who was, now more settled in his nerves ; " that won't do the saints protect us." The seamen, however, became clamorous ; one portion were for throwing Schriften overboard, the other for throwing Philip ; at last the point was decided by the captain, who directed the small skiff hanging astern to be lowered down, and ordered both Philip and Schriften to get into it. The seamen approved of this arrangement, as it satisfied both parties. Philip made no objection ; Schriften screamed and fought, but he was tossed into the boat. There he remained trembling in the stern-sheets, while Philip, who had seized the sculls, pulled away from the vessel in the direction of the Phantom Ship. CHAPTER XLII IN a few minutes the vessel which Philip and Schriften had left was no longer to be discerned through the thick haze ; the Phantom Ship was still in sight, but at a much greater distance from them than she was before. Philip pulled hard towards her, but although hove-to, she appeared to increase her distance from the boat. For a short time he paused on his oars, to regain his breath, when Schriften rose up and 348 THE PHANTOM SHIP took his seat in the stern-sheets of the boat. " You may pull and pull, Philip Vanderdecken/' observed Schriften ; " but you will not gain that ship- no, no, that cannot be we may have a long cruise together, but you will be as far from your object at the end of it, as you are now at the commencement. Why don't you throw me overboard again ? You would be all the lighter. He J he ! " " I threw you overboard in a state of frenzy/' replied Philip, " when you attempted to force from me my relic." " And have I not endeavoured to make others take it from you this very day ? Have I not ? He ! he ! " "You have," rejoined Philip; "but I am now convinced that you are as unhappy as myself, and that in what you are doing, you are only following your destiny, as I am mine. Why and wherefore I cannot tell, but we are both engaged in the same mystery ; if the success of my endeavours depends upon guarding the relic, the success of yours depends upon your obtaining it, and defeating my purpose by so doing. In this matter we are both agents, and you have been, as far as my mission is concerned, my most active enemy. But, Schriften, I have not forgotten, and never will, that you kindly did advise my poor Amine ; that you prophesied to her what would be her fate if she did not listen to your counsel ; that you were no enemy of hers, although you have been and are still mine. Although my enemy, for her sake I forgive you, and will hot attempt to harm you." " You do then forgive your enemy, Philip Vanderdecken ? " replied Schriften mournfully, " for such I acknowledge my- self to be." I do, with all my heart, with all my soul," replied Philip. "Then have you conquered me, Philip Vanderdecken ; you have now made me your friend, and your wishes are about to be accomplished. You would know who I am. Listen : - When your father, defying the Almighty's will, in his rage took my life, he was vouchsafed a chance of his doom being cancelled, through the merits of his son. I had also my appeal, which was for vengeance ; it was granted that I should remain on earth, and thwart your will. That as long as we were enemies, you should not succeed ; but that when you had conformed to the highest attribute of Christianity, proved on 349 THE PHANTOM SHIP the holy cross, that of forgiving your enemy, your task should be fulfilled. Philip Vanderdecken, you have forgiven your enemy, and both our destinies are now accomplished." As Schriften spoke, Philip's eyes were fixed upon him. He extended his hand to Philip it was taken ; and as it was pressed, the form of the pilot wasted as it were into the air, and Philip found himself alone. " Father of Mercy, I thank Thee," said Philip, " that my task is done, and that I again may meet my Amine." Philip then pulled towards the Phantom Ship, and found that she no longer appeared to leave ; on the contrary, every minute he was nearer and nearer, and at last he threw in his oars, climbed up her sides and gained her deck. The crew of the vessel crowded round him. " Your captain," said Philip ; " I must speak with your captain." " Who shall I say, sir ? " demanded one who appeared to be the first mate. " Who ? " replied Philip. " Tell him his son would speak to him, his son, Philip Vanderdecken." Shouts of laughter from the crew followed this answer of Philip's ; and the mate, as soon as they ceased, observed, with a smile " You forget, sir ; perhaps you would say his father." "Tell him his son, if you please," replied Philip; "take no note of grey hairs." " Well, sir, here he is coming forward," replied the mate, stepping aside, and pointing to the captain. " What is all this ? " inquired the captain. "Are you Philip Vanderdecken, the captain of this vessel ? " " I am, sir," replied the other. " You appear not to know me ! But how can you ? you saw me but when I was only three years old ; yet may you remember a letter which you gave to your wife." " Ha ! " replied the captain ; " and who, then, are you ? " " Time has stopped with you, but with those who live in the world he stops not ; and for those who pass a life of misery, he hurries on still faster. In me behold your son, Philip Vanderdecken, who has obeyed your wishes ; and, after a life of such peril and misery as few have passed, has ; The remnants of the hull floated upon the water. THE PHANTOM SHIP at last fulfilled his vow, and now offers to his father the precious relic that he required to kiss." Philip drew out the relic, and held it towards his father. As if a flash of lightning had passed through his mind, the captain of the vessel started back, clasped his hands, fell on his knees, and wept. "My son, my son!" exclaimed he, rising and throwing him- self into Philip's arms ; " my eyes are opened the Almighty knows how long they have been obscured." Embracing each other, they walked aft, away from the men, who were still crowded at the gangway. " My son, my noble son, before the charm is broken be- fore we resolve, as we must, into the elements, oh ! let me kneel in thanksgiving and contrition : my son, my noble son, receive a father's thanks," exclaimed Vanderdecken. Then with tears of joy and penitence he humbly addressed him- self to that Being whom he once so awfully defied. The elder Vanderdecken knelt down ; Philip did the same ; still embracing each other with one arm, while they raised on high the other, and prayed. For the last time the relic was taken from the bosom of Philip and handed to his father and his father raised his eyes to heaven and kissed it. And, as he kissed it, the long tapering upper spars of the Phantom vessel, the yards and sails that were set, fell into dust, fluttered in the air, and sank upon the wave. The mainmast, foremast, bowsprit, everything above the deck, crumbled into atoms and disappeared. Again he raised the relic to his lips, and the work of destruction continued the heavy iron guns sank through the decks and disappeared ; the crew of the vessel (who were looking on) crumbled down into skeletons, and dust, and fragments of ragged garments ; and there were none left on board the vessel in the semblance of life but the father and son. Once more did he put the sacred emblem to his lips, and the beams and timbers separated, the decks of the vessel slowly sank, and the remnants of the hull floated upon the water; and as the father and son the one young and vigorous, the other old and decrepid still kneeling, still embracing with their hands raised to heaven, sank slowly under the 351 THE PHANTOM SHIP deep blue wave, the lurid sky was for a moment illuminated by a lightning cross. Then did the clouds which obscured the heavens roll away swift as thought the sun again burst out in all its splendour the rippling waves appeared to dance with joy. The scream- ing sea-gull again whirled in the air, and the scared albatross once more slumbered on the wing. The porpoise tumbled and tossed in his sportive play, the albicore and dolphin leaped from the sparkling sea. All nature smiled as if it rejoiced that the charm was dissolved for ever, and that THE PHANTOM SHIP WAS NO MORE. OLLA PODRIDA INTRODUCTION IjEFORE I commence, it may be as well to observe that there is a certain method required, even in writing travels. In every chapter you should have certain landmarks to guide you. For instance, enumerate the following, and select the works from which they may be obtained, so as to mix up the in- structive with the amusing : Travelling remarks on country passed through anecdote arrival at a town churches population historical remarks another anecdote eating and drinking natural curiosities egotism remarks on the women (never mind the men) another anecdote reflections an adventure and go to bed." So writes Captain Marryat in the little skit called " How to Write a Book of Travels," which with delightful naivete he included in the volume containing his own " Diary on the Continent." It recounts how a certain briefless barrister, with the aid of an ingenious friend, contrives to satisfy his importunate creditors by "travel- ling post in his arm-chair a very pleasant and profitable way of travelling." Profitable in a double sense, if travels "which have never. extended farther than Lincoln's Inn Coffee-House for his daily food, and a walk to Hampstead on a Sunday," are swelled by the simple method of subscribing to a circulating library into "Travels up the Rhine in the Year 18 ," and handsomely remunerated by an enterprising publisher. The necessities of the impecunious Mr. Ansard had their counter- part in Marryat's own case. Finding in 1 834 that the " no rent " hitherto returned annually from his Langham estate in Norfolk was, under his own management, rapidly developing v INTRODUCTION into an annual deficit, he betook himself in 1835 to the Continent, and for two years attempted, like so many of his countrymen, to maintain the position of a gentleman at a trifling cost, whilst furnishing a record of his experiences to the Metropolitan Magazine, The result seems to have disappointed his expectations ; the superior cheapness of life on the Continent he declares to be a fallacy, and he assures his countrymen that they can obtain more good living and substantial comforts in England at less expense than in any part of the Continent they may fix upon as their habitation. Meanwhile he was probably making a very fair profit on the sheets at sixteen guineas each, which he was sending home to the Metropolitan. His t( Diary on the Continent " bears unmistakable signs of being composed on a system of piece-work. Sixty years ago, perhaps, readers were more tolerant, but one wonders whether even a popular favourite could indulge with impunity in such longueurs as Captain Marryat allows himself. Whether his letters are dated from Spa, Brussels, Strasbourg, or Lausanne appears wholly immaterial ; it is far more likely that they will deal with reminiscences of Burmah, the proper distribution of charity, the duties of sick nurses, anecdotes of birds and beasts, pr the present condition of surgical knowledge, than with the national characteristics of the countries through which the narrator is travelling, or the -ccnciy whjch ii before his eyes. In short, Marryat's travels come perilously near to realising his own burlesque description ; it is only the genial spirit of the traveller and his obvious delight in his own production, "very good magazine stuff"," as he himself describes it in a letter to his mother, that saves it from the deserved reproach of being nothing but most indifferent journalism. Antres iempst autres mceurs. We are no longer interested in the "anecdote arrival in a town^another anecdote reflections -adventure go to bed " style of writing, and we should be inclined to bring against our author the charge which he INTRODUCTION himself brings against rriaay of his brother authors, that they do not understand the great art, both in writing and in every- thing else, of knowing when to leave off. Captain Marryat's forte is in stirring narrative; he will live by such tales of adventure as " Peter Simple " and Mr. Midshipman Easy," certainly not by a diary which is "not a diary of events, but of thoughts and reminiscences, thrown up and caught as they float to the surface in the whirlpool of my brain." Two things there are, however, which cannot but strike the diarist's present-day readers one the extreme modernity of the views expressed on foreign politics, and the other the equally archaic and elementary character of the humour of sixty years since. Have we really progressed so little since the beginning of the present reign, in spite of the frequent remodelling of the map of Europe, and the enormous growth of naval and military armaments, that the European situation remains in 1897 what it was in 1837 ? It looks like it when we find Captain Marryat gravely considering the possibilities for and against a Russian invasion of India, and deciding that on the whole it is improbable, and that Russia, on the contrary, is our one natural ally amongst the European powers. An alliance with France seems to him a moral impossibility, for "our interests are separate and conflicting, and our jealousy but sleeps for the moment." So, too, with America ; and since whenever we go to war with France America will back her up, it is clearly in our interest to have the Russian navy on our side against the combined fleets of France and the United States; This is so clearly perceived by French statesmen, that they lose no opportunity of exciting jealousies between Russia and this country. Might one not be listening to the latest utterances of a contemporary politician, instead of to the re- flections of an old naval officer trained in the Napoleonic wars ? But Captain Marryat's humour is as much belated as his politics are up to date. It is difficult to realise that any but an illiterate public can ever have relished the vulgarities of INTRODUCTION the Channel voyage chapters, and their introduction is the more curious when one turns to the page in the burlesque, where our author parodies the inevitable traveller's tale of mal de mer. There are anecdotes, too, scattered here and there through the Diary which must needs induce a desperate melancholy, like that terrible tale told of Marryat himself, when he had kept silence throughout a dinner of literary celebrities : " Why, did you imagine that I was going to let out any of my jokes for those fellows to put into their next books? No, that is not my plan. When I find myself in such company as that, I open my ears and hold my tongue, glean all I can and give them nothing in return." This disas- trous attempt at repartee seems to have proved more satis- factory to its author than it deserved, for he introduces it as an air with variations into his Diary, putting it into the mouth of a lady of fashion, who prices "a clever author's" unex- pressed ideas at a modest three-and-sixpence each, and twisting and turning it into six pages of reflections on the social position of authors. What a debt of gratitude, too, does not a man owe to Providence that he was not born in an age when the ring of a bell could remind him of a Peel, and as he mounted the stairs he must needs think of the " Lobby." Fancy dancing with a partner who " tapped you with her fan that she might tap your politics," and "shook her nng against your Tory." Even a degenerate age has its compensations ; if we have lost the robustness of the century's youth, it is something to have been delivered from its propensity for puns. Of the other constituents of " Olla Podrida," few call for special notice. " The Sky Blue Domino " is neither better nor worse than many of the romantic episodes scattered throughout the novels ; it is certainly inferior to such thrill- ing narratives as that of the monk in the " Pasha of Many Tales." " Moonshine " is a painful example of Captain Mairyat's humour at its slenderest ; the attempt at the supernatural, conceived in a somewhat comic spirit, in " S.W. and by W. ^ W.," is not a conspicuous success ; and the viii INTRODUCTION moralities in the style of Miss Edgeworth, with which we are confronted in " Modern Town Houses " and " The Way to be Happy," will not detain the reader long. But in " How to Write a Fashionable No* el" Captain Marryat has scored a genuine success, repeated on a somewhat lower level in "How to Write a Book of Travels," and gradually dwindling away in " How to Write a Romance." The first of these three skits, with its admirable parodies of Disraeli and Bulwer Lytton, is conceived in the happiest vein of drollery. The toilet of the hero in a fashionable novel, we are told, de- mands at least five chapters, and as he cannot be got out of bed gracefully, he must be left communing with his soul in the style of Eugene Aram until a fresh chapter enables him to recommence as follows : " ' I should like the bath at seventy- six and a half, Coridon,' observed the Honourable Augustus Bouverie, as he wrapped his embroidered dressing-gown round his elegant form, and sank into a chaise longue, wheeled by his faithful attendant to the fire." There, as the in- genious friend explains to the puzzled author, "you observe he is out of bed, and nothing said about it," and there per- haps we may leave him, with an assurance to the modem reader that if he will but pursue the developments with which Captain Marryat is ready to supply him, he will him- self have no difficulty in constructing " a most fashionable novel." W. L. C. June 1897. CONTENTS PA91 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT ..... 1 SW. AND BY W. ^ W. ..... 205 ILL-WILL ........ 221 THE SKY-BLUE DOMINO ..... 238 MODERN TOWN HOUSES ..... 253 THE WAY TO BE HAPPY ..... 266 How TO WRITE A FASHIONABLE NOVEL . . 272 How TO WRITE A BOOK OF TRAVELS . . . 2.91 How TO WRITE A ROMANCE .... 303 THE LEGEND OF THE BELL ROCK . . . .313 MOONSHINE ... . 323 OLLA PODRIDA DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER I April 3,^1835. .TvEADER, did you ever feel in that peculiarly distressing state of mind in which one oppressing idea displaces or colours every other, absorbing, intermingling with, empoisoning, and, like the filth of the Harpy, turning everything into disgust when a certain incubus rides upon the brain, as the Old Man of the Mountain did upon the shoulders of Sindbad, burden- ing, irritating, and rendering existence a misery when, look- ing around, you see but one object perched everywhere and grinning at you when even what you put into your mouth tastes of but that one something, and the fancied taste is so unpleasant as almost to prevent deglutition when every sound which vibrates in your ear appears to strike the same discordant note, and all and everything will remind you of the one only thing which you would fain forget ; have you ever felt anything like this, reader ? If you have not, then, thank God, by way of grace, before you out with your knife and fork and begin to cut up the contents of these pages. I have been and am now suffering under one of these varieties of " phobias," and my disease is a Politicophobia. I and begin will describe the symptoms. I am now in the metropolis of England, and when I walk out every common house appears to me to be the House of Commons every lordly mansion the House of Lords every man I meet, instead of being a member of society, is trans- formed by imagination into a member of the senate every OLLA PODRIDA chimney-sweep into a bishop, and a Bavarian girl, with her " Py a proovn," into an ex -chancellor. If I return home, the ring at the bell reminds me of a Peel as I mount the stairs I think of the " Lobby " I throw myself on the sofa, and the cushion is transformed into a woolsack if a solitary visitor calls in, I imagine a public meeting, and call out " chair ! chair ! " and I as often address my wife as " Mr. Speaker," as I do with the usual appellative of "my dear/' This incubus, like the Catholic anathema, pursues me every- where at breakfast the dry toast reminds me of the toasts at public dinners tea, of the East India charter sugar, of the West India question the loaf, of agricultural distress and, as every one knows that London eggs are a lottery, according as they prove bad or good, so am I reminded of a Whig or Tory measure. When the newspaper is brought in, I walk round^nd round it as a dog will do round the spot he is about to lie down upon. I would fain not touch it ; but at last, like a fascinated bird who falls perforce into the reptile's mouth, so do I plunge into its columns, read it with desperation, and when the poison has circulated, throw it away in despair. If I am reminded to say grace at dinner, I commence " My lords and gentlemen"; and when I seek my bed, as I light my taper, I move " that the House do now adjourn." The trades- men's bills are swelled by my disease into the budget, and the cheques upon my banker into supplies. Even my children laugh and wonder at the answers which they receive. Yesterday one brought me her book of animals, and pointing to a boa- constrictor, asked its name, and I told her it was an O'Connell. I am told that I mentioned the names of half the members of the Upper and Lower House, and at the time really believed that I was calling the beasts by their right names. Such are the effects of my unfortunate disease. Abroad I feel it even worse than at home. Society is un- hinged, and every one is afraid to offer an opinion. If I dine out, I find that no one will speak first he knows not whether he accosts a friend or foe, or whether he may not be pledging his bitter enemy. Every man looks at his neighbour's coun- tenance to discover if he is Whig or Tory : they appear to be examining one another like the dogs who meet in the street, and it is impossible to conjecture whether the mutual scenting will be followed up by a growl or a wag of the tail ; however, 2 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT one remark will soon discover the political sentiments of the whole party. Should they all agree, they are so busy in abuse that they rail at their adversaries with their mouths full should they disagree, they dispute so vehemently that they forget that they were invited to dinner, and the dishes are removed untasted, and the duties of the Amphytryon become a sinecure. Go to an evening party or a ball, and it is even worse, for young ladies talk politics, prefer discussion to flir- tation, and will rather win a partner over to their political opinions than by their personal charms. If you, as a Tory, happen to stand up in a cotillion with a pretty Whig, she taps you with her fan that she may tap your politics : if you agree, it is " En avant deux : " if not, a " chassez croisee." Everything goes wrong she may set to you indeed, but hers is the set of defiance, and she shakes her wig against your Tory. To turn your partner is impossible, and the only part of the figure which is executed con amore is dos a dos. The dance is over, and the lady's looks at once tell you that you may save your " oaths," while she "takes her seat." I have tried change of scene posted to watering-places ; but the deep, deep sea will not drown politics. Even the ocean in its roaring and commotion reminded me of a political union. I have buried myself in the country, but it has been all in vain. I cannot look at the cattle peacefully grazing without thinking of O'Connell's tail ; Stanley's tail, and a short-docked pony reminded me of the boasted little tail of Colonel Peel. The farmyard, with its noisy occupants, what was it but the reality so well imitated by the members of the Lower House, who would drown argument in discord ? I thought I was in the lobby at the close of a long debate. Every tenth field, every tenth furrow (and I could not help counting), every tenth animal, and every tenth step reminded me of the Irish tithes; and when I saw a hawk swoop over a chicken I thought of the Appropriation Bill so I left the country. J have tried everything I have been everywhere, but in vain. In the country there was no relaxation in society no pleasure, at home no relief. England was disjointed, never to be united until it was dismembered and there was no repose. I had my choice, either to go abroad or to go mad ; and, upon mature deliberation, I decided upon the former, as the 3 OLLA PODRIDA lesser evil of the two. So I gave I sold I discharged I paid I packed up, and I planned. The last was the only portion of my multifarious duties not satisfactorily arranged. I looked at the maps, plied my compasses that I might com- pass my wishes, measured distances that I might decide upon my measures planned, looked over the maps and planned again CHAPTER II W ELL, as I said in my last chapter, I planned and planned but I might as well conjugate it, as many others assisted it was, I planned, thou plannedst, he planned, we planned, ye planned, and they planned and what annoyed me was, that I could not help considering that " the whole house was in a committee," and without being able " to report progress." At first it was decided upon that we should proceed up the Rhine, and not leave off paddling until we had arrived at Manheim, at which town I fancied that I should at least be out of political distance. We read all about Manheim, found out tint it was a regular-built town, with a certain number of inhabitants with promenades, gardens, and a fine view of the Rhine. " So you're going abroad where ? " " Manheim," was the reply, and all the world knew that we were bound to Manheim ; and every one had something to say, or something that they had heard said, about Manheim. " Very nice place Duchess Dowager Stephanie very cheap gay in winter masters excellent" were the variety of changes rung, and all was settled ; but at last one unlucky observation raised a doubt another increased a third confirmed it. "'A very dull place German cookery bad for children steamboats from Rotterdam very bad, and often obliged to pass two nights on deck." A very influential member of the committee took alarm about the children being two nights on deck, and it was at last decided that to go up to Manheim by steamboat at 4>, 9s. a head, and children at half-price, was not to be thought of. " I wonder you don't go to Bruges," observed a committee man ; " nice, quiet place excellent masters everything so cheap I once bought eighty large peaches there for two francs." 4 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT And all the children clapped their little hands, and cried out for Bruges and cheap peaches. It was further submitted that it was convenient you might go the whole of the way by water and Bruges was imme- diately under consideration. " If you go to Bruges, you will find it very dull/' observed another ; " but you'll meet Mrs. Trollope there now Brussels is very little farther, and is a delightful place ; " and Brussels was also referred to the committee. "You won't like Brussels there is such a mixture, and house-rent is dear. Now, I should recommend Spa for the summer it is a most beautiful spot and excellent company." And Spa was added to the list. Then after a day or two came an Anti-Teutonic, who railed against Germany and Germans German towns, German travelling, and German French, which was detestable German cookery, which was nothing but grease. " You may imagine," said he, "and so have many more, that Germany is more pleasant and less expensive than France ; but they have been disappointed, and so will you be. Now, for a quiet place, I should recommend St. Omer only thirty miles from Calais so convenient and very pretty." St. Omer humph very quiet and retired and no politics and St. Omer was occasionally canvassed. "St. Omer ! " said another who called the next day, "you'll die of ennui. Go to Boulogne it is delightful you may be there as retired or as gay as you please." Boulogne to be taken into consideration many inquiries made and all very satisfactory good sands and excellent jack- asses for the children. " My dear friend, Boulogne is something like the King's Bench at least most of the people only go there in pre- ference. Everybody will suppose that you've levanted. Pray don't go to Boulogne." " Why don't you go by Southampton to Havre there you'll have quiet and amusement beautiful country about Honfleur scenery up the Seine splendid ; and then you can go up to Rouen by water, if you intend to go on to Paris." Havre and Honfleur submitted to the committee. But then came Dieppe, and Brest, and the environs of Paris, Versailles, St. Germain, Passy, and other recommendations, in 5 OLLA PODRIDA which every one particular place was proved incontestably to be more particularly suited to us than any other, and the committee sat for three weeks, at the end of which, upon examining the matured opinions of the last seven days, I found them to have fluctuated as follows : Monday morning, Manheim. Evening, Spa. Tuesday morning > Bruges. Evening, Brussels. Wednesday morning, St. Omer. Evening, Boulogne. Thursday morning, Havre. Evening, Honfleur. Friday morning^ Dieppe. Evening, Passy. Saturday morning, Versailles. Evening, St. Germain. Sunday morning, Spa. Evening, Brussels. The fact was, that there was a trifling difference of opinion in the committee the great object appeared to be, and the great difficulty at the same time, to find a place which would suit all parties, that is to say, a place where there were no politics, plenty of gaiety, and cheap peaches. CHAPTER III _PADDLE, paddld splash, splash bump, thump, bump. What a leveller is sea-sickness almost as great a Radical as death. All grades, all respect, all consideration are lost. The master may summon John to his assistance, but John will see his master hanged before he'll go to him ; he has taken possession of his master's greatcoat, and he intends to keep it he don't care for warning. The nurses no longer look after the infant or the children ; they may tumble overboard even the fond yearnings of the mother at last yield to the overwhelming sensation, and if it were not for the mercenary or kind-hearted assistance of those who have become habituated to the motion of the vessel, there is no saying how tragical might be the commencement of many a party of pleasure to the Continent. " Oh lauk, Mary, do just hold this child," says the upper nurse to her assistant ; " I do feel such a finking in my stomach." "Can't indeed, nurse; I've such a rising." Away hurried both the women at once to the side of the 6 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT vessel, leaning over and groaning heavily. As for the children, they would soon have been past caring for, had it not been for my protecting arms. Decorum and modesty, next to maternal tenderness the strongest feelings in woman, fall before the dire prostration of this malady. A young lady will recline unwittingly in the arms of a perfect stranger, and the bride of three months, deserted by her husband, will offer no resistance to the uncouth seaman, who, in his kindness, would loosen the laces that confine her heaving bosom. As for politeness, even the ancien regime of the noblesse of France put it in their pockets as if there were a general chaos self is the only feeling ; not but that I have seen occasional traits of good-will towards others. I once witnessed a young lady smelling at a bottle of eau-de-Cologne as if her existence depended upon it, who handed it over to another whose state was even more pitiable, and I was reminded of Sir Philip Sidney and the cup of water, as he lay wounded on the field of battle, "Thy necessity is greater than mine." And if I might have judged from her trembling lips and pallid counte- nance, it was almost an equal act of heroism. Paddle, paddle, splash, splash, bump, thump, bump one would really imagine that the passengers were so many pumps, all worked at once with the vessel by the same hundred horse-power, for there were an hundred of them about me, each as sick as a horse. " Sic omnes," thought I. I have long passed the ordeal, and even steam, and smoke, and washing-basins, and all the various discordant and revolt- ing noises from those who suffer, have no effect upon my nervous system still was I doomed to torment, and was very sick indeed. For some time I had been watched by the evil eyes of one whom the Yankees would designate as almighty ligly. He was a thin, spare man, whose accost I could well have spared, for he had the look of a demon, and, as I soon found, was possessed with the demon of politics. Imagine what I must have suffered when I found out that he was a button- holder to boot. Observing that I was the only one who was in a state to listen, he seized upon me as his victim. I, who had fled from politics with as much horror as others have done from the cholera I, who had encountered all the miseries of gteam navigation, and all the str-nm and effluvia of close cabins, I OLLA PODRIDA to find myself condemned with others " alike to groan " what with King Leopold, and William of Nassau, and the Belgian share of the debt, and the French and Antwerp, and his pertinacious holding of my button. "Shall I knock him down," thought I; "he insists upon laying his hands upon me, why should I not lay my hands upon him ? " But on second consideration, that would not have been polite ; so I made other attempts to get rid of him, but in vain ; I turned the subject to far countries the rascal had been everywhere ; at one moment he would be at Vienna, and discuss the German confederation at another in South America, can- vassing the merits of Bolivar and St. Martin. There was no stopping him ; his tongue was like the paddle of a steam- boat, and almost threw as much spray in my face. At last I threw off my coat, which he continued to hold in his hand by the third button, and threw myself into one of the cribs appropriated to passengers, wishing him a good night. He put my coat down in the crib beneath, and as he could no longer hold the button, he laid hold of the side of the crib, and continued his incessant clack. At last I turned my back to him, and made no answer, upon which he made a retreat, and when I awoke the next morning, I found that he was too ill to spout politics, although, as he progressed, he spouted what was quite as bad. Par parenthtse, he was a great liar, and as he drew a long bow when he was able to talk, so did he prove a long shot when he was sea-sick. Confound the fellow, I think I see him now there he stood, a tall, gaunt misery, about the height of a workhouse pump, and the basin was on the floor of the cabin, nearly three feet from his two feet ; without conde- scending to stoop, or to sit down, or to lift up the basin, so as to lessen the distance, he poured forth a parabola, "quod mine describere " had just as well be omitted. I shall, therefore, dismiss this persecuting demon, by stating that he called him- self a baron, the truth of which I doubted much ; that he was employed by crowned heads, which I doubted still more. On one point, however, I had little doubt, although he did not enter upon the subject (and his tongue to a great degree con- firmed it), that he was a chevalier d'industrie. "I am rid of him, thank God," exclaimed I, as I went on deck to breathe a little fresh air, having lighted my cigar in. DIARY ON THE CONTINENT the steward's berth as I ascended. The first objects which attracted my attention \vere a young gentleman and lady, the former standing by the latter, who was sitting in a pensive position, with her elbow leaning on the gunnel. She was in deep mourning and closely veiled. " And how does the beautiful Maria find herself this morn- ing ? " said the young gentleman, leaning over her with his hand on the rail to support himself. The beautiful Maria ! How was it possible not to be at- tracted by such a distinguishing appellation ? The beautiful Maria ! I thought of Sterne's Maria, and the little dog with a string, and I trimmed my ear like a windsail in the tropics to catch the soft responding, and most assuredly, to my ex- pectant imagination, melodious vibration to the air which would succeed. At last there was a reply. Oh ! tol, hi ! " And that in anything but a melodious voice. " Oh ! tol, lol ! " What a bathos ! The beautiful Maria, whom in my imagination I had clothed with all the attributes of sentiment and delicacy, whom I had conjured up as a beau-ideal of perfection, replies in a hoarse voice with, "Oh ! tol, lol!" Down she went., like the English funds in a panic down she went to the zero of a Doll Tearsheet, and down I went again into the cabin. Surely this is' a world of disappointment. Perhaps I was wrong she might have been very beautiful, with the voice of a peacock; she might also have the plumage - but no, that is impossible she must, from her sex, have been a peahen. At all events, if not very beautiful, she was very sick. I left the beautiful Maria screeching over the gunnel. If the young gentleman were to repeat the same question now, thought I, the beautiful Maria will hardly answer, " Oh ! tol, lol ! " It was very cold on deck, blowing fresh from the east. I never heard any one give a satisfactory reason why a west wind should be warm, and an east wind cold in latitude 50 N. It is not so in the tropics when the east wind follows the rare- faction occasioned by the sun. Yet, does not Byron say, " Tis the land of the east, 'tis the clime of the sun " ? Certainly our east winds are not at all poetical. " Very cold, sir," said I, addressing the round-faced gentle- 9 OLLA PODRIDA man in a white greatcoat, who rested his chin and his two hands upon a thick cane. " You are' fortunate in not being aea-sick." " I beg your pardon, I am not fortunate. I am worse than sea-sick, for I want to be sea-sick and I can't. I do believe that everything is changed nowadays, since that confounded Reform Bill ! " " Politics again," thought I ; " what the devil has sea-sick- rtess to do with the Reform Bill ? Mercy on me, when shall I be at peace ? " " There certainly has been some change," observed I. " Change, sir ! yes, everything changed. England of 1 835 is no more like merry England of olden time than I am like Louis the Fourteenth ruined, sir every class suffering, sir badly ruled, sir." "Things are hiuch cheaper." " Much cheaper ! Yes, sir ; but what's the good of tilings being cheap when nobody has any money to purchase with ? They might just as well be dear. It's a melancholy discovery, sir, this steam." " Melancholy just now to those who are on board, and suffering, I grant." " Pooh, nonsense ; melancholy to those on shore, sir ; the engines work while man looks on and starves. Country ruined, sir people miserable thrown out of employment, while foreigners reap the benefit ! We sell them our manufactures at a cheaper rate ; we clothe them well, sir, at the expense of our own suffering population. But is this all, sir? Oh no !" And here the gentleman dropped his chin again upon his hands, and looked very woeful indeed. After a few seconds, he resumed. " We are dismembered, sir ruined by faction. Society is disintegrated by political animosities ; thousands have re- treated from the scene of violence and excitement, to find peace and repose in a foreign land." I nodded an assent. "Ay, sir, and thousands will follow, withdrawing from the country its resources, circulating millions which enrich other nations, and avoiding their own share of the national burdens, which fall still heavier upon those who remain. But is that all, sir ? Oh tto ! " 10 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT This second " Oh no ! " was pronounced in a more lugu- brious note : he shook his head, and after a pause he recom- menced. " England is no longer priest-ridden, sir ; but she is worse, she is /ow-ridden. Litigation and law expenses have, like locusts, devoured up the produce of industry. No man is safe without a lawyer at his elbow, making over to him a part of his annual income to secure the remainder. And then there's Brougham. But, sir, is that all? Oh no!" Another pause, and he continued. " I never grumble I hate grumblers ; I never talk of politics I hate politics; but, sir, is it not the case, that madmen and fools have united to ruin the country ? Is it not true, sir, that unable to rise by their talents, and urged by a wicked ambition, they have summoned main force and the power of numbers to their assistance, and have raised a spirit which they cannot put down again ? Is it not true, sir, that treason walks bare- faced through the land, pointing to general destruction to a violation of all rights, to anarchy, confusion, and the shedding of blood ? Is not reason borne down by faction, sir ? But, sir, is that all ? Oh no!" The last "Oh no !" was more melancholy than the preced- ing, but I considered that my companion must have nearly exhausted his budget of miseries, and was curious to ascertain what would come next. (t What, is there more, sir ? " inquired I innocently. " More, sir ? Yes, sir, plenty more. I ask you whether even the seasons have not changed in our unhappy country ; have we not summer with unusual, unexampled heat, and winters with- out cold ; when shall we ever see the mercury down below sixty degrees again ? Never, sir. What is summer but a season of alarm and dread ? Does not the cholera come in as regu- larly as green peas terrifying us to death, whether we die of it or not ? Of what advantage are the fruits of the earth, so bountifully bestowed have they not all been converted into poisons? Who dares to drink a light summer wine now? Are not all vegetables abjured, peaches thrown to the pigs, and strawberries ventured upon only by little boys who sweep the streets, with the broom in one hand and the pottle in the other ? Are not melons rank poison, and cucumbers sudden death ? And in the winter, sir, are we better off? Instead of the wholesome frost of olden days, purifying the air and the 11 OLLA PODRIDA soil, and bracing up our nerves, what have we but the in- fluenza, which lasts us for four months, and the spasmodic cough, which fills up the remainder of the year ? I am no grumbler, sir ; I hate and abhor anything like complaining, but this I will say, that the world has been turned upside down that everything has gone wrong that peace has come to us unattended by plenty that everybody is miserable ; and that vaccination and steam, which had been lauded as blessings, have proved the greatest of all possible curses, and that there is no chance ot a return to our former prosperity unless we can set fire to our coal-mines, and re-introduce the small-pox. But, sir, the will of Heaven be done. I shall say no more ; I don't wish to make other people unhappy ; but pray don't think, sir, I've told you all. Oh no!" At this last " Oh no ! " my companion laid his face down upon his knuckles, and was silent. I once more sought the deck, and preferred to encounter the east wind. " Blow, blow, thou wintry wind, thou art not so unkind," soliloquised I, as I looked over the bows, and perceived that we were close to the pile entrance ot the harbour of Ostend. Ten minutes afterwards there was a cessation of paddle, paddle, thump, thump, the stern-fast was thrown on the quay, there was a rush on board of commissionaires, with their reiterated cries, ac- companied with cards thrust into our hands, " Hotel des Bains, monsieur ; " " Hotel Waterloo, monsieur ; " " Hotel Bellevue ; " " Hotel Bedford, monsieur ; " " Hotel d'Angle- terre," ad in/initum and then there was the pouring out of the Noah's Ark, with their countenances wearing a most para- doxical appearance, for they evidently showed that they had had quite enough of water, and, at the same time, that they required a great deal more. I looked at my children, as they were hoisted up from the ladies' cabin, one after another, and upon examination I decided that, with their smudged faces, the Hotel des Bains would be the most appropriate to their condition ; so there we went. 12 He swept the natives oft" the raft.' DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER IV OSTEND, April 18, 1835. J. WAS confoundedly taken in by a rascal of a commission- aire, and aware how the feelings of travellers are affected by the weather or the treatment they receive at any place they may pass through, I shall display the heroism of saying nothing about the place, except that I believe Ostend to be the most rascally hole in the world, and the sooner the traveller is out of it so much the better will it be for his purse and for his temper. April 19. It has been assumed as an axiom that every one in this tvorld is fond of power. During our passage in the traek- schuyt I had an evidence to the contrary, for as we glided noiselessly and almost imperceptibly along, a lady told me that she infinitely preferred the three-horse power of the schuyt to the hundred-horse power of the steam-packet. We arrived at Bruges, escaping all the horrors and difficulties of steam navigation. House-rent at Bruges is cheap, because one-half of the houses are empty at least, that was the cause assigned to me, although I will not vouch for its being the true one. The reader may remember that this was the site of cheap peaches, but none met our sight, the trees not being yet in blossom. I ought to observe, for the satisfaction of the Foreign Bible Society, that at the hotel at Bruges I saw a book of their ex- portation lying on the chimney-piece in excellent preservation. April 21. As to what passed on our canal voyage to Ghent, I can only say that everything passed us for the roads were very heavy, the horses very lazy, and the boys still lazier ; they rode their horses listlessly, sitting on them sideways, as I have seen lads in the country swinging on a gate whereby the gait of the track-schuyt could not be styled a swinging pace. We did arrive at last, and thus ended our water carriage At Ghent we went to the Hotel Royal, from out of the windows of 13 OLLA PODRIDA which I had a fine view of the belfry, surmounted by the Brazen Dragon brought from Constantinople ; and as I con- jured up times past, and I thought how the belfry was built and how the dragon got there, I found myself at last wander- ing In the Apocrypha of " Bel and the Dragon." We went to see the picture by Van Eck, in the cathedral of St. Bovin. The reader will probably wish to know who was St. Bovin so did I and I asked the question of the sacristan : the reader shall have the benefit of the answer, " St. Bovin, monsieur, il etait un saint." That picture of Van Eck's is worth a van full of most of the pictures we see ; it was Van Eck who invented, and was, indeed, the father of painting in oil. It is a wonderful production. Mrs. Trollope says that people run through Belgium as if it were a mere railroad to other countries. That is very true we did the same for who would stop at Ostend to be swindled, or at Bruges to look at empty houses, or at Ghent, vhich is nothing but a Flanders Birmingham, when Brussels and King Leopold, and the anticipation of something more agreeable, were only thirty miles off. Not one day was our departure postponed ; with post-horses and postillions we posted post haste to Brussels. CHAPTER V April 22. THE Queen of Belgium "a fait un enfant" On the Continent it is always the wife who is considered as the faiseuxe ; the husband is supposed, and very often with justice, to have had nothing to do in the matter it certainly does appear to be optional on the part of the ladies, for they limit their family to their exact wishes or means of support. How different is it in England, where children will be born whether it is convenient or not ! O Miss Martineau ! you may talk about the "preventive check," but where is it? In England it Would be as valuable as the philosopher's stone. I tlii iik that the good people of Paris would do well, as they appear just now to have left religion in abeyance, to take up the manners and the customs of the empire of the Nahirs, a 14 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT Mahratta nation, which I once read about. In that country, as in heaven, there is no marrying, nor giving in marriage. All are free, and all inheritance is through the children of the sister ; for although it is impossible to know who may be the father of any of the children, they are very certain that the sister's children must have the blood on the maternal side. What a good arrangement this would be for the Parisians how many pec/ies mortels would they get rid of such as adul- tery, fornication, &c. by passing one simple ]aw of the land. By-the-bye, what an admirable idea for reforming a nation r they say that laws, nowadays, are made to prevent crime : but if laws were enacted by which crime should no longer be considered as crime, what a deal of trouble might be saved. The theatre is closed owing to the want of funds ; the want of funds is owing to the want of honesty on the part of the manager, he having run away with the strong-box, which was decidedly the very best box in the theatre. April 26. I went to see a species of Franconi, or Astley's : there is little variety in these performances, as there are only a certain quantity of feats which can be performed either by the horses or the riders ; nevertheless we had some novelty. We had the very best feminh e rider I ever saw ; she was a perfect female Centaur, looking part and parcel of the animal upon which she stood ; and then we had a regularly Dutch-built lady, who amused us with a tumble off her horse, coming down on the loose sawdust, in a sitting posture, and making a hole in it as large as if a covey of partridges had been basking in it for the whole day. An American black (there always is a black fellow in these companies, for, as Cooper says, they learn to ride well in America by stealing their masters' horses) rode furiously well and sprained his ankle. The attempt of a man in extreme pain to smile is very horrible yet he did grin as he bowed and limped away. After that we had a performer who had little chance of spraining her ankle ; it was a Miss Betsey, a female of good proportions, who was, however, not a little sulky that evening, and very often refused to perform her task, and as for forcing the combined will of a female and an elephant to boot, there was no man rash enough to attempt it, go she did as little as she pleased, and it pleased her to do very OLLA PODRIDA little. One feat, however, was novel : she took a musket in her mouth, and fired it off with her trunk. When I was in India I was very partial to these animals ; there was a most splendid elephant which had been captured by the expedition sent to Martaban ; he stood four or five feet higher than elephants usually do, and was a great favourite of his master, the rajah. When this animal was captured, there was great difficulty in getting him on board of the transport. A raft was made, and he was very unwillingly persuaded to trust his huge carcass upon it ; he was then towed off with about thirty of the natives on the raft, attending him ; the Jargest purchases and blocks were procured to hoist him in, the mainyards doubly secured, and the fall brought to the capstern. The elephant had been properly slung, the capstern was manned, and his huge bulk was lifted in the air, but he had not risen a foot before the ropes gave way, and down he came again on the raft with a heavy surge, a novelty which he did not appear to approve of. A new fall was rove, and they again manned the capstern ; this time the tackle held, and up went the gentleman in the air ; but he had not forgotten the previous accident, and, upon what ground it is impossible to say, he ascribed his treatment to the natives who were assist- ing him on the raft. As he slowly mounted in the air, he looked about him very wroth, his eyes and his trunk being the only portions of his frame at liberty. These he turned about in every direction as he ascended at last, as he passed by the main channels, he perceived the half of a maintop-sail yard, which had been carried away in the slings, lying on the goose- necks ; it was a weapon that suited him admirably ; he seized hold of it, and whirling it once round with his trunk, directed the piece of wood with such good aim that he swept about twenty of the natives off the raft, to take their chance with a strong tide and plenty of alligators. It was the self-possession of the animal which I admired so much swinging in the air in so unusual a position for an elephant, he was as collected as if he had been roaming in his own wild forests. He arrived and was disembarked at Rangoon, and it was an amusement to me, whenever I could find time, to watch this animal, and two others much smaller in size who were with him ; but he was my particular pet. Perhaps the reader will like to have the diary of an elephant when not on active service. At what DIARY ON THE CONTINENT time animals get up who never lie down without being ordered, it is not very easy to say. The elephants are stalled at the foot of some large tree, which shelters them during the day from the extreme heat of the sun ; they stand under this tree, to which they are chained by their hind legs. Early in the morning the keeper makes his appearance from his hovel, and throws the respective keys down to the elephants, who immediately unlock the padlocks of the chains, cast them- selves loose, and in the politest manner return the keys to the keeper ; they then march off with him to the nearest forest, and on their arrival commence breaking down the branches of the trees, selecting those which are most agreeable to their palates, and arranging them in two enormous faggots. When they have collected as much as they think they require, they make withies and bind up their two faggots, and then twist another to connect the two, so as to hang them over their backs down on each side, and having thus made their provision, they return home ; the keeper may or may not be present during this performance. All depends upon whether the elephants are well trained, and have been long in servitude. Upon their return, the elephants pass the chains again round their legs, lock the padlock, and present the key as before ; they then amuse themselves with their repast, eating all the leaves and tender shoots, and rejecting the others. Now, when an elephant has had enough to eat, he generally selects a long bough, and pulling off all the lateral branches, leaves a bush at the end forming a sort of whisk, to keep off the flies and mosquitoes ; for although the hide of the elephant is very thick, still it is broken into crannies and cracks, into which the vermin insert themselves. Sometimes they have the follow- ing ingenious method of defending themselves against these tormentors they put the end of their trunks down in the dust, draw up as large a quantity as they can, and turning their trunks over their heads, pour it out over their skin, powdering and filling up the interstices, after which they take the long branch I have before mentioned, and amuse themselves, by flapping it right and left, and in all directions about their bodies, wherever the insects may settle. And now for an instance of self-denial, which I have often witnessed on the part of my friend the large elephant. I have observed him very busy ,'flar ping right, and flapping left, 17 B OLLA PODRIDA evidently much annoyed by the persecution of the mosquitoes. By-the-bye, no one can have an idea how hard the tiger-mos- quito can bite. I will, however, give an instance of it, for the truth of which I cannot positively vouch ; but I remember that once, when it rained torrents, and we were on a boating expedition, a marine who, to keep his charge dry, had his fore- finger inserted in the barrel of his musket, pulled it out in a great hurry, exclaiming to his comrade, " May I be shot, Bill, if one of them beggars ha'n't bit me right through the barrel of my musket." This par parenthese, and now to proceed. As I said before, the elephant showed, by constant flagellation of his person, that he was much annoyed by his persecutors, and just at that time the keeper brought a little naked black thing, as round as a ball, which in India, I believe, they call a child, laid it down before the animal with two words in Hindostanee " Watch ill" and then walked away into the town. The elephant immediately broke off the larger part of the bough, so as to make a smaller and more convenient whisk, and directed his whole attention to the child, gently fanning the little lump of Indian ink, and driving away every mosquito which came near it ; this he continued for upwards of two hours, regardless of himself, until the keeper returned. It was really a beauti- ful sight, and causing much reflection. Here was a monster, whose bulk exceeded that of the infant by at least two thou- sand times, acknowledging that the image of his Maker, even in its lowest degree of perfection, was divine ; silently proving the truth of the sacred announcement, that God had " given to man dominion over the beasts of the field." And here, too, was a brute animal setting an example of devotion and self- denial, which but few Christians, none, indeed, but a mother, could have practised. Would Powell Buxton, surrounded by a host of mosquitoes, have done as much for a fellow-creature, white or black ? not he ; he would have flapped his own thighs, his own ears, his own face, and his own everything, and have left his neighbours to take care of themselves ; nor would I blame him. As I am on the subject, I may as well inform my readers how and in which way the elephant and I parted company, for it was equally characteristic of the animal. The army was ordered to march, and the elephants were called into requisition to carry the tents. The quartermaster-general, the man with* 18. DIARY ON THE CONTINENT four eyes, as the natives called him, because he wore spectacles, superintended the loading of the animals tent upon tent was heaped upon my friend, who said nothing, till at last he found that they were overdoing the thing, and then he roared out his complaints, which the keeper explained ; but there was still one more tent to be carried, and therefore, as one more or less could make no difference, it was ordered to be put upon his back. The elephant said no more, but he turned sulky enough was as good as a feast with him, and he considered this treatment as no joke. Now, it so happened that at the time the main street, and the only street of the town, which was at least half a mile long, was crowded to suffocation with tattoos, or little ponies, and small oxen, every one of them loaded with a couple of cases of claret, or brandy, or some- thing else, slung on each side of them, attended by coolies, who, with their hooting, and pushing, and beating, and screaming, created a very bustling and lively scene. When the last tent was put on the elephant he was like a mountain with canvas on each side of him, bulging out to a width equal to his own ; there was just room for him to pass through the two rows of houses on each side of the street, and not ten inches to spare; he was ordered by the keeper to go on he obeyed the order certainly, but in what way he threw his trunk up in the air, screamed a loud shriek of indignation, and set off at a trot, which was about equal in speed to a horse's gallop, right down the street, mowing down before him every pony, bullock, and coolie that barred his passage : the confusion was indescribable ; all the little animals were with their legs in the air, claret and brandy poured in rivulets down the street, coolies screamed as they threw themselves into the doors and windows ; and at one fell swoop the angry gentleman demolished the major part of the comforts of the officers, who were little aware how much they were to sacrifice for the sake of an extra tent. With my eyes I followed my friend in his reckless career, until he was enveloped and hid from my view in a cloud of dust, and that was my farewell of him. I turned round, and observed close to me the quartermaster- general, looking with all his four eyes at the effects of his in- humanity. But I have wandered some twenty thousand miles from Brussels, and must return. 19 OLLA PODRIDA CHAPTER VI .^ BRUSSELS, May 6. JtilS Belgian Majesty, the Belgian Ministers, Belgian Ambas- sadors, Belgian authorities, and all the Belgian nobility and gentry, all the English who reside in Br jssels for economy and quiet, and all the exiles and propaganda who reside here to kick up a row, have all left Brussels by the Porte d'Anvers. And all the Belgians who live at Brussels have shut up their shops, and gone out by the Porte d'Anvers. And the whole populace, men, women, and children, have gone out of the Porte d'Anvers. And all the infants have also gone, because the mothers could not leave them at home. And the generals, and their staffs, and the officers, and all the troops, and all the artillery, have also left Brussel.,, and gone oat at the Porte d'Anvers, to keep the said populace quiet and in good order. So that there is no one left at Brussels, and Brussels must for one day take care of itself. And now you, of course, wish to know why they have all left Brussels, and further, why they have gone through the Porte d'Anvers. Because there is this day the commemoration of the inaugu- ration of the Chemin de Per, which has just been completed from Brussels to Malines, and which is on this day to be opened, that is to say, that three steam-tugs, whose names are the Stcphenson, the Arrow, and the Elephant, are to drag to Malines and back again in the presence of his Majesty, all his Majesty's ministers, all the ambassadors who choose to go, all the heads of the departments, and everybody else who can produce a satisfactory yellow ticket, which will warrant their getting into one of the thirty-three omnibuses, diligences, or cars, which are attached to the said three steam-tugs, the Arrow, the Stepkenson, and the Elephant. I shall go and see it I will not remain at Brussels by myself, the " last man." May 6th. Tt was a brilliant affair, and went off well, because the trains went on well. We were tugged through twelve miles of the fertile pasture in the universe, the whole line of road so 20 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT crowded with spectators, as to make evident the extreme popu- lousness of the country. For the first mile it was one mass of people and a Belgian crowd has a very agreeable effect, from the prevailing colours being blue and white, which are very refreshing, and contrast pleasantly with the green background. Every man had his blouse, and every woman her cap and straw bonnet ; but if the Belgians look well en masse, I cannot say that they do so in detail : the men we do not expect much from, but the women are certainly the plainest race in the whole world I will not except the Africans. In some of our men-of-war it was formerly the custom to have an old knife, which was passed from one to the other, as the men joined the ship, being handed to the ugliest man they could find ; he held the knife until another came, more unfortunate in phy- siognomy than himself, when it was immediately made over to the last, who was obliged in his turn to retain it until he could discover some one even more unprepossessing. Following up this principle with the women of Belgium, and comparing them with other European states, they are unequivocally entitled to hold the knife, and unless they improve by crossing the breed, I am afraid they will have it in their possession for centuries. We arrived safe at Malines, and I was infinitely amused at the variety of astonishment in the five hundred thousand faces which we passed. In one rich meadow I beheld a crowd of Roman Catholic priests, who looked at the trains in such a manner as if they thought that they were " heretical and damn- able," and that the Chemin de Fcr was nothing but the Che- min d'Enfer. At Malines we all got out, walked to a stone pillar, where a speech was made to the sound of martial music, and we all got in again. And then to show the power of his engines, Mr. Stephenson attached all the cars, omnibuses, and diligences together, and directed the Elephant to take us back without assistance from the other two engines. So the Elephant took us all in tow, and away we went at a very fair pace. It must have been a very beautiful sight to those who were looking on the whole train in one line, covered with red cloth and garlands of roses with white canopies overhead, and decorated with about three hundred Belgian flags, of yellow, red, and black. However, the huge animal who dragged this weight of eighty tons became thirsty at Ville Vorde, and cast us off it took him half-an-hour to drink 21 OLLA PODRIDA that is to say, to take in water, and then he set off again, and we arrived safely at Brussels, much to the delight of those who were in the cars and also of his Majesty, and all his ministers, and all his authorities, and all the mercantile classes who consider that the millennium is come, but very much to the disappointment of the lower classes, who have formed the idea that the Chemin de Fcr will take away their bread, and who therefore longed for a blow-up. And Mr. Stephenson having succeeded in bringing back in safety his decorated cars, has been de'core' himself, and is now a Chevalier de 1'Ordre Leopold. Would not the Iron order of the Belgian patriots have been more appropriate as a Chemin de Fcr decoration ? It is impossible to contemplate any steam-engine without feeling wonder and admiration at the ingenuity of man ; but this feeling is raised to a degree of awe when you look at a locomotive-engine there is such enormous power compressed into so small a space I never can divest myself of the idea that it is possessed of vitality that it is a living as well as a moving being and that idea, joined with its immense power, conjures up in my mind that it is some spitting, fizzing, terrific demon, who, if he could escape control, would be ready and happy to drag us by thousands to destruction. And will this powerful invention prove to mankind a bless- ing or a curse ? like the fire which Prometheus stole from heaven to vivify his statue, may it not be followed by the evils of Pandora's fatal casket ? The lower classes of Belgium have formed an idea that the introduction of steam is to take away their bread. Let us examine whether there is not in this idea a degree of instinc- tive and prophetic truth. The axiom of our political economists is, that the grand object to be sought and obtained is to produce the greatest possible results by the smallest possible means. The axiom as an axiom by itself is good ; but the axiom to be opposed to it is, that the well-being and happiness of any State depend upon obtaining full employment for the whole industry of the people. The population of Belgium is enormous. In England we calculate about eighteen hundred souls to the square league. In Belgium it amounts to three thousand eight hundred souls to the square league. Now, it would be impossible for Belgium 22 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT to support this population, were it not, in the first place, for her extensive manufactories (for upon the cotton manufac- tories alone, in which the steam is as yet but partially intro- duced, two hundred and fifty thousand souls depend for their existence), and in the second place, from the subdivision of the land in small portions, arising from the laws of inheritance, which bar the right of primogeniture ; the consequence of which is, that the major part of Belgium is cultivated by spade husbandry, and is in the very highest state of fertilitv. Never- theless, the proportion of those who receive relief in Belgium from public institutions and private charities of all descriptions amounts even at present to one in eight persona. Now. .-ill ow- ing that the steam-engine should be generally introduced into this country, the consequence must be that machinery will supply the place, and do the work of man. And what may be the result? that thousands will be thrown out of employ- ment, and must be supported by the nation. When the popu- lation is so dense that there is not room for the labour of its . present inhabitants, it is clear that the introduction of machi- nery can have but one effect that of increasing pauperism. Are not, then, the Belgians right in thinking that it will deprive them of their bread ? That machinery has already had that effect to a certain degree in England cannot be denied ; and not only our manu- facturing, but our agricultural, population have been distressed from an adherence to the same principle, of obtaining the greatest possible results from the smallest possible means. The subdivision of land will do more to relieve the agricultural distress than anything else. At present large farms are pre- ferred both by landlord and tenant, because a large farm can be cultivated with a fewer number of men and horses ; but how does this act? It throws a certain quantity of labourers out of employ, who are supported in idleness. Is the sum gained by farmers by employing fewer men on large farms more than their proportion of the poor's rates paid for unpro- ductive industry ? That it may be more to the farmers is possible, as they shift a great part of the onus upon others ; but to the nation it certainly is not, for the man who docs not work must still be fed. May we not then consider the following propositions as correct ? That, producing the greatest possible results from the least 23 OLLA PODRIDA possible means, is an axiom which can only hold good when it does not interfere with the industry of the people. That, as long as the whole population are employed, such powers become a benefit, and a source of extra wealth. But that, in proportion as it throws the population out of employment, so much the more does it prove an injury, and must finally lead to a state of things which must end in riot, anarchy, and con- fusion. Quod est demonstrandum I hope it will not be in our time. CHAPTER VII ANTWERP. XWERY one has heard of the cathedral at Antwerp and the fine pictures by Rubens every one has heard of the siege of Antwerp and General Chasse, and how the French marched an army of non-intervention down to the citadel, and took it from the Dutch and every one has heard how Lord Palmer- ston protocol-ed while Marshal Gerard bombard-ed - and h:>w it was all bombard and bombast. The name of Lord Palmerston reminds me that conversing after dinner with some Belgians, the topic introduced was the great dearth of diplomatic talent in a country like England, where talent was in every other department so extremely prominent. It was not the first time that this subject had been canvassed in my presence by foreigners. Naturally envious of our general superiority, it is with them a favourite point of attack ; and they are right, as it certainly is our weakest point. They cannot disparage our army, or our navy, or our constitution ; but they can our climate, which is not our fault, but our mis- fortune ; and our diplomacy, which is our fault, and has too often proved our misfortune also. It certainly is the fact that our diplomatic corps are very inferior ; and this can arise but from one cause, the emolu- ments which have been attached to it having rendered admis- sion into it an advantage eagerly sought by the higher classes as a provision for the junior branches of their families. Of course, this provision has been granted to those to whom government have felt most indebted for support, without the least regard to the important point as to whether those who were admitted were qualified or not : so that the mere pro- 24 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT viding for a younger son of an adherent to the government may have proved in the end to have cost the country millions from the incompetence of the party when placed in a situation requiring tact and discrimination. This evil is increased by the system of filling up the vacant appointments according to seniority the exploded and absurd custom of "each second being heir unto the first." Should any man have proved, upon an emergency, that he was possessed of the highest talent for diplomacy, it will avail him nothing he never, under the pre^ sent system, will be employed he cannot be admitted into the corps without having entered as a private secretary or attache. It would be monstrous, unheard-of; and the very idea would throw Lord Aberdeen on the one side, or Lord Palmerston on the other, into convulsions. Is it, therefore, to be wondered at our being so deficient in our diplomatic corps ? Surely if any point more than another requires revision and reform, it is this ; and the nation has a right to insist upon it. It may be asked, what are the most peculiar qualities neces- sary to a diplomatist, taking it for granted that he has talents, education, and a thorough knowledge of the routine of busi- ness ? The only term which we can give to this desideratum is presence of mind not the presence of mind required in danger, but that presence of MIND which enables him, when a proposition is made, at once to seize all its bearings, the direction to which it tends, and the ultimate object (for that will be always concealed at first) which the proposer may have in view. Diplomatists, when they enter the field, are much in the situation of two parties, one defending and the other attacking a stronghold. Admissions are highly dangerous, as they enable the adversary to throw up his first parallels ; and too often, when you imagine that the enemy is not one jot advanced, you find that he has worked through a covered way, and you are summoned to surrender. It is strange that, at the very time that they assert that it would be impossible to employ those as diplomatists who have not been regularly trained to the service, officers in the army and captains in the navy are continually so employed, and often under circum- stances of vital importance. Now it would be supposed that the latter, of all people, would be the most unfit ; as generally speaking, they are sent to sea as unfit for any/king else. But it appears that once commanding a frigate, they are supposed 23 OLLA PODRIDA to be fit for everything. A vessel is ordered for " particular service," why so called I know not, except that there may be an elision, and it means " particularly disagreeable service." The captain is directed by the Admiralty to consider himself tinder the orders of the Foreign Office, and he receives a huge pile of documents, numbered, scheduled, and red-taped (as Bulwer says in his pamphlet), the contents of which he is in- formed are to serve as a guide for his proceedings. He reads them over with all their verbiage and technicalities, sighs for Cobbett's pure Saxon, and when he has finished, feels not a little puzzled. Document No. 4 contradicting document No. 1 2, and document No. 1 opposed to No. 56 ; that is, as he reads and understands English. Determined to understand them if possible, he takes a dose of protocol every morning, until he has nearly learnt them by heart, and then acts to the best of his knowledge and belief. And it is undeniable that, with very few exceptions, the navy have invariably given satisfaction to the Foreign Office, when they have been so employed, and often under circumstances of peculiar difficulty. I have heard, from the best authority, that military men have also been equally successful, although they have not so often been called into " particular service." By-the-bye, particular service is all done at the same price as general service in his Majesty's navy, which is rather unfair, as we are obliged to find our own red tape, pens, ink, and stationery. As I was walking on the glacis with a friend, he pointed out to me at a window an enormous fat man smoking his pipe, and told me that he had been in the Dutch service under William of Orange ; but not being a very good hand at a forced march, he had been reduced with others to half-pay. He had not been many months in retirement when he went to the palace and requested an audience of his Majesty, and when admitted, stated that he had come to request that his Majesty would be pleased to put him again upon full-pay. His Majesty raised many objections, and stated his inability to comply with his request; upon which the corpulent officer exclaimed, embracing with his arms, as far as he could, his enonnous paunch, " My God ! your Majesty, how can you imagine that I can fill this big belly of mine with only my half-pay?" This argumentum ad venlrem so tickled King \Yilliam that he was put on full pay unattached, and has con,- DIARY ON THE CONTINENT tfnued so ever since. The first instance I ever heart! of a man successfully pleading as ladies do at the Old Bailey. It is hard for a wanderer from childhood like me to find out anything new or interesting. I have travelled too much, and have seen too much I seldom now admire. I draw comparisons, and the comparison drawn between the object before my eyes and that in my mind's eye is, unfortunately, usually in favour of the latter. He who hath visited so many climes, mingled with so many nations, attempted so many languages, and who has hardly anything left but the North Pole or the crater- of Vesuvius to choose between, if he still longs for something new, may well cavil at the pleasures of memory as a mere song. In proportion as the memory is retentive, so is decreased one of the greatest charms of exis- tence novelty. To him who has seen much, there is little left but comparison, and are not comparisons universally odious ? Not that I complain, for I have a resource I can fly to imagination, quit this everyday world, and in the region of fiction create new scenes and changes, and people these with new beings. Moreover, there is still endless variety, endless amusement, and food for study and contemplation in our own species. In all countries still the same, yet ever varying, " The proper study of mankind is man." From which, I presume, we are to infer that it is time thrown away to study woman. At the same party in which the conversation was raised relative to diplomacy, a person with whom I was, until that day, wholly unacquainted was sitting by me, and, as it hap- pened, the name of one with whom I had long been on terms of intimacy was mentioned. " Do you know him ?" said my neighbour, with a very peculiar expression. I replied that I had occasionally met him, for I thought there was some- thing coming forward. " Well, all I can say is, that he is rather a strange person." " Indeed ! " replied I ; " how do you mean ? " "Why, they say that he is of a very uncertain temper." " Indeed ! " continued I, with the same look of inquiry, as if demanding more information. " Yes, yes, rather a dangerous man." 27 OLLA POD RID A " Do you know him ? " inquired I, in return. " Yes ; that is to say not very intimately the fact is, that I have avoided it. I grant that he is a very clever man but I hear that he quarrels with everybody." " Who told you so ? " replied I. Oh ! he was not authorised to give the name of the person. " Then," replied I, " allow me to say that you have been misinformed. I have been on intimate terms with that person for nearly twenty years, during which he never quarrelled with me or any one that I know of ; although, I grant, he is not over civil to those whom he may despise. The only part of your communication which is correct is that he is a very clever man, and our government are of the same opinion." My neighbour was discomfited and said no more, and I joined the general conversation. What may have been his cause of dislike, I know not but I have frequently remarked, that if a man has made himself enemies either from neglect of that sophistry and humbug so necessary to enable him to roll down the stream of time with his fellows without attrition, if they can find no point in his character to assail, their last resort is to assert that he is an uncertain-tempered man, and not to be trusted. This is the last, and although not the most empoisoned, still the surest shaft in the whole quiver of calumny. It does not exactly injure the character, but it induces others to avoid the acquaintance of the party so misrepresented. It is rather singular, and perhaps I may have been fortunate, but in more than half-a-dozen instances I have found the very parties to whom this character has been given, although high-minded and high-spirited, the very antithesis to the character which has been assigned them. That some do deserve the character is undoubted but there is no species of calumny to be received with such peculiar caution. It may be right to be on your guard, but it never should be the ground for a positive avoidance of the party accused. Indeed, in some degree it argues in his favour, for it is clear that the whole charge they can bring against his character is an infirmity to which we are all more or less subjected ; and he who looks for perfection in his acquaintance or his friends will inevitably meet with disappointment 28 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER VIII JL HAVE lost all my memoranda ! I cannot find them anywhere. Well children are a great blessing when they are kept in the nursery but they certainly do interfere a little with a papa who has the misfortune to be an author. I litt'e thought, when my youngest girl brought me up a whole string of paper dolls, hanging together by the arms, that they had been cut off my memoranda. But so it was ; and when I had satisfactorily established the fact, and insisted upon an inquisition to recover my invaluables, I found that they had had an auto-da-Jc, and that the whole string of dolls, which contained on their petticoats my whole string of bewitching ideas, had been burnt like so many witches. But as the man said in the packet "Is that all?" Oh no! they come rushing in like a torrent, bounding, skipping, laughing, and screaming, till I fancied myself like another Orpheus, about to be torn to pieces by Bacchanals (they are all girls), and I laid down my pen, for they drive all my ideas out of my head. May your shadows never grow less, mes enjans, but I wish you would not make such a cursed row. The author and the author of existence do not amalgamate. That's a fact. Their joyous countenances are answered by a look of despair their boiling-water heat drives my thermometer down to zero their confounded merriment gives me a confounded headache their animal spirits drive me to vegetable spirits their cup of bliss running over makes me also require a bumper brandy restores the equilibrium, and I contrive to get rid of them and my headache about one and the same time. Talking about brandy one morning at two o'clock, about the witching time that ghosts do glide about in churchyards, as I was thinking whether it would not be better to go to bed instead of writing nonsense, in which opinion most of my readers may coincide with me, in stalked three young men who were considerably the worse for potations. There is a great deal of character in inebriety at the same time that no estimate of character can be made from its effects; for we often 29 OLLA PODRIDA find the most quiet men when sober to be the most choleric in their cups but still there is character, and much that is curious in witnessing its variety of effects. Now, these young men were each drunk in a very different way the first, in a way quite novel ; for although he could preserve his equilibrium, and stare immensely, he had lost the power of speech ; you saw his lips move, but no articulation or sound succeeded the second was laughing drunk ; every- thing that was said, either by himself or by any one else, was magnified into a pun or bon mot the third, with whom I had no previous acquaintance, was politely drunk. I presume the idea of intruding himself upon a stranger, at such an unseasonable hour, had produced that effect but let me describe the scene. " Ha, ha, ha ! we come to you ha, ha ! capital. We want some brandy-and-water ; and, ha, ha ! we know you always keep a stock," said the second, seating himself in an arm- chair. The first also took a chair, moved his lips for a few seconds, and then sat bolt upright, staring at the two candles ; how many he counted I cannot pretend to say. "Really," said No. Three, "we are I'm afraid taking a great liberty a very great liberty ; but an apology is cer- tainlv due if you will allow me to offer an apology for my two friends will you allow me to introduce them?" " Many thanks, but I have the pleasure of knowing them already." " I really beg your pardon it was quite unintentional on my part. I trust you are not offended ? Will you allow me to introduce myself? I am Captain C , of the . Will you permit me to present my card, and to say how happy I shall be to make your acquaintance?" So saying, the third gentleman presented me with his card, and returned the card-case into his pocket. " Capital ! " cried No. Two. " Ha, ha, ha ! what an excel- lent joke, ha, ha, ha ! Now for the brandy-and-water." This was soon produced, and although No. One had lost all articulation, he had still the power of deglutition ; he filled his glass, sat up more erect, stared at the candles, and drank his grog ; the other did the same, when No. Three again spoke. 30 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT " My dear sir, I hope you will excuse the liberty, but my name is Captain C , of the . Will you allow me the honour of presenting my card, and of saying how proud I shall be to make your acquaintance ? " So saying, he pre- sented me another card, which I put aside with the first. " Ha, ha, ha ! what a good joke, to find you up. I said we should get brandy-and-water here ; wasn't that capital ? ha, ha, ha, ha ! " I could not exactly see the joke of being kept up for per- haps two more hours, but I begged they would refill their glasses, as the sitting would be sooner ended one way or the other either by the bottle being empty, or their falling under the table I did not care which when I was again addressed by No. Three. " I really beg your pardon, but I'm afraid I have been very remiss will you allow me to introduce myself? I am Captain C , of the . Here is my card, and I cannot say how happy I shall be if I may have the honour of your acquaintance." I bowed a third time, and received a third card. " By heavens, I've finished my tumbler ! Ain't that capital ? Ha, ha, ha ! famous fun ; and so has Alfred." " Famous fun, indeed," thought I, as the contents of the bottle disappeared. " And Alfred is going to help himself again ; well, that is capital, ha, ha, ha ! ha, ha, ha ! ha, ha, ha, ha ! " Alfred, who was No. One, moved his lips, but like the frozen horn of Munchausen, sounds would not come out ; he did, however, follow up the joke by refilling his tumbler for the third time. " Upon my honour, I've been very rude, I ought to apolo- gise," said No. Three, again drawing out his card-case ; "but will you allow me to offer my card ? I am Captain C , of the , and I shall be most happy to make your acquaint- ance." I bowed again, and received the fourth card. Thus were the changes rung by numbers one, two, and three, until I was tired out, two bottles more drunk out, and I had received fifteen cards from my very polite friend, whom I had never seen before. At four o'clock they all rose to depart. 31 OLLA PODRIDA "Upon my soul, I do believe I'm drunk/' said No. Two. " Capital joke ha, ha, ha ! " No. One continued dumb ; brandy had not thawed him : but he stared very hard at me, as much as to say, I would speak if I could. No. Three put into my hand the sixteenth card, and made a rash attempt at a bow. Having seen them fairly outside my door, I bolted it, saying with Shakspcare " Oh I that man Should put an enemy in his mouth, To steal away his brains ! " I have been this morning to visit an establishment founded by two brothers of the name of Van der Maelen. It com- prehends natural history, botany, geography, and statistics, and they have, moreover, a lithographic press for maps and plates. It is a very curious and very spirited undertaking. As yet the whole has been effected by their own means, which are extensive, and without any assistance from govern- ment. How few people in this world employ their money so usefully ! This establishment is but yet in its infancy, and the collections are not very valuable, although rapidly increasing, from the interest felt by every one in its welfare. Of all collections of natural history, the fossil department is, to me, the most interesting ; there is room for speculation and reflection, till the mind is lost in its own wanderings, which I consider one of the greatest delights of existence. We are indebted to the vast, comprehensive mind and inde- fatigable labour of Cuvier for the gleams of light which have lately burst upon us, and which have rendered what was before mere speculative supposition now a source of in- teresting and anxious investigation, attended with results that are as satisfactory as they are undeniable. That there was a period when the surface of the earth was almost entirely covered with water a state between chaos and order, when man was not yet created (for that then the world had not yet been rendered by the Almighty a fit receptacle for man), appears to be undoubted. Yet the principle of life had been thrown forth by the Almighty 32 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT Hand, and monsters had been endowed with vitality, and with attributes necessary for their existence upon an inter- mediate world. These were the many varieties of the Ichthyosauri and the Plesiosauri, of whose remains we have now such abundant specimens all animals of the lizard species ; some supposed to have been supplied with wings, like the flying fish of the present day. But imagine an animal of the lizard species, one hundred and twenty feet long imagine such a monster the existence of which is now proved beyond a cavil, by the remains deeply imbedded in the hard blue lias rocks, and which remains are now in our possession. What a terrific monster it must have been ! We look with horror at an alligator of twenty or thirty feet, but imagine an animal of that species extending his huge bulk to one hundred and twenty feet ! Were they all destroyed when the waters were separated from the land, or did they gradually become extinct when the earth was no longer a suitable habitation for them, and no longer congenial to those properties with which they had been endowed when ordered into existence by the Almighty power ? The de- scription of the Behemoth, by Job, has long been a puzzle to the learned ; we have no animal of the present time which will answer to it, but, in many points, this description will answer to what may be supposed would be the appearance, the muscular power, and the habits of this huge denizen of a former world. " His force is in the navel of his belly. He moveth his tail like a cedar. His bones are as strong pieces of brass ; His bones are like bars of iron. He lieth under the shady trees, in the covert of the reeds, and fens. The shady trees cover him with their shadow ; The willows of the brook compass him about." It may be a matter of deep surmise, whether all animals were created as we now find them, that is, whether the first creation was final or how far the unerring hand has permitted a change to take place in the forms and properties of animals, so as to adapt them to their peculiar situations. I would say, whether the Almighty may not have allowed the principle of 33 c OLLA PODRIDA vitality and life to assume, at various epochs, the form and attributes most congenial to the situation, either by new formation or by change. May not the monster of former worlds have dwindled down to the alligator of this the leviathan to the whale ? Let us examine whether we have any proofs in existing creation to support this supposition. We all know that the hair of the goat and sheep in the torrid zones will be changed into wool when they are taken to the colder climes, and that the reverse will also take place ; we know that the hare and weazle tribes, whose security is increased from, their colour so nearly ap- proaching to that of the earth in temperate latitudes, have the same protection afforded to them when they are found in the regions of snow, by their changing to white ; and we know that the rete mucositm of the African enables him to bear the exposure to a tropical sun which would destroy an European. But this is not sufficient : we must examine further. Sir Humphrey Davy has given us a very interesting account of a small animal found in the pools of water in the caves in Carniola ; this animal is called the Proteus Anguinus, or Syren ; it is a species of eel with two feet a variety only to be found in these caves ; it lives in darkness, and exposure to the light destroys it. Now, here is an animal which we must either suppose to have been created at the universal creation and that is to suppose that these caves and pools of water have also existed from the time of the creation or that the principle of vitality has been permitted, at a later date, to take that fonn and those attributes congenial to its situation : it is a curious problem. Again, it is well known that on the continent of New Holland there are animals who have a property pecu- liar to that continent alone that of a pouch or false stomach, to contain their young after their birth. It has been surmised that at one time the major part of that continent was under water, and that this pouch was supplied to them for the safety of their young ; nor is this conjecture without strong grounds. If only the kangaroo and opossum tribes, which are animals peculiarly indigenous to that continent, were supplied with this peculiar formation, the conjecture would fall to the ground, as it might fairly be said that this property was only another proof of the endless variety in creation ; but the most remark- able fact is that not only the kangaroo and opossum, animals 34 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT indigenous and peculiar to that portion of the globe, but that every variety of squirrel, rat, and mouse, which in every other respect are of the same species as those found on the other continents, are all of them provided with this peculiar false pouch to contain their young. Why, therefore, should all these have been supplied with it, if not for a cause ? And the question now arises, whether at the first creation they had that pouch, or were permitted so far to change their formation when the pouch became necessary for the preservation and continuation of these species ? That these changes are the changes of centuries, I grant, and, therefore, are not likely to be observed by man, whose records or whose knowledge are not permitted to be handed down beyond a certain extent Know- ledge is not happiness ; and when the accumulation has arrived to that height so as to render it dangerous, it is swept away by the all-wise and benevolent Creator, and we are permitted to begin again de novo. After all, what we term posterity is but a drop of water in the ocean of Time. CHAPTER IX BRUSSELS. 1 HERE are few people in Brussels, indeed in Belgium, who do not complain of the revolution ; all that goes wrong is at once ascribed to this cause indeed, I was rather staggered by one gentleman at Ghent, telling me very gravely that they had had no fat oxen since the revolution ; but this he explained by stating that the oxen were fattened from the refuse of several manufactories, all of which had been broken up, the proprietors having quitted for Holland. The revolution has certainly been, up to the present time, injurious to both countries, but it is easy to foretell that eventually Belgium will flourish, and Holland, in all probability, be the sufferer. The expenses of the latter even now are greater than her revenue, and when the railroads of Belgium have been completed, as proposed, to Vienna, the revenue of Holland will be propor- tionally decreased, from her loss of the carrying trade. It may be urged that Holland can also have her railroads but she cannot ; so large a proportion of her population find their jupport at present on the canals that a railroad would be 35 OLLA PODRIDA productive of the most injurious effects. It is true that she can lower her rates of carriage, but the merchant will save ten days of transport by the railroads, and this rapidity of commu- nication will always obtain the preference. But whatever may be the future prospects of Belgium, it is certain that, from the heavy expenses attending the support of so large an army, the retirement into Holland of most of the influential and wealthy commercial men, and the defection of almost all the nobility, at present she is suffering. Brussels, her capital, has perhaps been most injured, and is no longer the gay and lively town which it was under the dynasty of King William of Nassau. When the two countries were united, it was the custom of the Dutch Court to divide the year between Brussels and the Hague ; and as there was not only the establishment of the king, but also those of Princes William and Frederick (in fact, three Courts), as well as all the nobility of Holland and Belgium, there was an overflow of wealth, of company, and of amusement, which rendered Brussels one of the most delightful winter residences on the Continent ; but this has now all passed away. The Court of Leopold, in consequence of the radical party having the entire sway, is but a shadow, as nearly all the Belgian nobility have retired from it. The few who reside in town will not visit at the palace, and live in seclusion, receiving no company, and spending no money ; the majority, however, have eitluer removed from Brussels to their country seats, or have left the kingdom to spend their revenue amongst foreigners. At present there are but few English here, it being no longer the scene of gaiety, and there are other reasons which gradually decrease the number. The fact is, that Brussels is not a very cheap residence. The duties on everything are now enormous, and the shopkeepers prey upon the English as much as they can, having avowedly two prices, one for them, and the other for the Belgians. There are very few amusements, and the people, since the revolution, are rude and bearish, imagining that by incivility they prove their liberty and independence. The other towns of Belgium are very dull and very cheap Brussels is very dull and very dear. In another point, Brussels presents a contradiction to all the other capitals of Europe, in which you generally find the most polished manners and the greatest beauty in the female sex 36 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT concentrated. At Brussels it is directly the reverse the men are uncivil and the women plain ; whereas, in the Belgian provinces you will meet with civility and respect, and at Antwerp, Ostend, and most other provincial towns fall in with many fine countenances, reminding you of the Spanish blood which has been for centuries mingled with that of the Low Provinces. Nevertheless, there are many advantages in Brussels ; the communication with England is so rapid, and its situation so central, that it may be considered as the point from which travellers diverge on their various routes. About the end of May the arrivals and departures from Brussels are constant ; this stream continues to pour through the city for three months, after which, as the Belgians do not mix with the foreign residents, the latter are left entirely to their own resources for amusement. But the greatest objec- tion to Brussels is that the English have brought with them the English feeling. I hardly know how else to term it, but it certainly is a feeling peculiarly English, which has taken deep root within this last half century, and which has already pro- duced much evil, and may eventually be productive of more serious results. I refer to the system of spending more money than you can afford, to enable you to hold a certain position in the scale of society. For these last forty years, during which immense fortunes have been made in England, there has been a continued struggle of wealth against rank. Parvenus, as the aristocracy have been pleased to call them, have started up in every direc- tion, vying with, and even eclipsing the nobility in lavish expenditure in some instances, driving the aristocracy to spend more money than they could afford, and thereby im- poverishing them ; in others, forcing admittance into their circles. Wealth and public opinion have latterly gained the ascendency, and the aristocracy are now more looked up to on account of their large possessions than of their high birth. Now this has been nothing more than a demand for greater liberty and more extended rights on the part of the com- moners of England, in proportion as they found themselves a more important body in the State. It has not been a case of Magna Charta, but it is still analogous ; for they have demanded that the barrier raised between them and the aris- 37 OLLA PODRIDA tocracy should be thrown down, as soon as they possessed all the advantages, with the exception of that nominal rank, the title too often conferred without discrimination on the one hand, or claims on the other. As soon as a partial breach had been made in this barrier, every one rushed for admittance, displaying wealth as their ticket of admission, and the consequence has been that wealth has now become the passport into society ; but another con- sequence has also ensued, which is that, to obtain entrance, almost everybody has been living and keeping up an appear- ance which has not been warranted by their means. Many have exceeded their incomes, and then sunk down into poverty ; others have, perhaps, only lived up to their incomes ; but, in so doing, have disappointed those who, induced by the appearance of so much wealth, have married into the family, and discovered that they have obtained wives with expensive ideas and no money. But there have been other reasons which have induced some to live beyond their means they have done it in the pure spirit of gambling. In England credit, next to money, is of most value, and according to their supposed wealth so did the parties obtain credit ; an ex- penditure beyond their means was, therefore, with commercial men, nothing more than speculation, which very often suc- ceeded, and eventually procured to the parties the means of expenditure. It is well known that the income tax, in many cases, was paid double ; commercial men preferring to give in their income at twice its real value, and pay the tax to that amount, that they might be supposed to possess more than they really had ; indeed, as it was imagined that a man would evade so heavy an impost as much as possible, he was generally considered to be worth even more than what he himself had stated. It is from these causes that has arisen what I have called the English feeling, for display beyond the means, and which has made our countrymen look down upon those who cannot compete with them in expense. Let a married couple be ever so well connected let them have talent, and every other advantage, it will avail them nothing if they have not money, sufficient at least to keep a carriage, and not shock the mistress of a house by the sound of the rattling steps of a hackney-coach at her door; besides which, in our commercial country, the principle of barter, of quid pro quo, is extended 38 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT even to dinner and evening parties and the reason is obvious ; when people live to the full extent, or even beyond their incomes, a little management is required. A dinner-party is so arranged that the dinners received from others are returned to them, and they cannot afford to ask a couple who cannot give them a dinner in return,as they would fill up the places of others to whom a dinner is due, and who, if not asked then, must be at another time ; and an extra dinner is an extra expense to be avoided. The English, therefore, who have only moderate incomes have the choice either to live beyond their means, and leave their children unprovided for, or of being shut out from that society to which, by every other but the adventitious claim of wealth, they are entitled. The consequence has been that since the peace thousands and thousands have settled on the Continent, that they may make more display with a small income, and thousands more with a much better feeling, to avoid expense, and lay by a provision for their children. Of course, all these remarks are made with reservation, but with reservation, it may be said, that in England we have, or so.on shall have, only two classes left, the extreme rich and the extreme poor, for the intermediate classes are gradually retiring to the Continent, emigrating to Canada and America, or sink- ing down into the second class. This is a most dangerous state of society, and, if carried to the extreme, has always proved ruinous to the Slate. Although the immense extent of the Roman empire may be asserted as the ultimate cause of its downfall, still that downfall was most certainly accelerated by the rottenness at the core, the system of patrons and clients having thrown all the wealth into the hands of a few. Are we not rapidly advancing to this state in England ? The landholders are almost at the mercy of the fundholders, who, in fifty years' time, will probably have possession of the land as well as of the money. And should there be no check put to this disintegration of society, then must come, what the radicals are now so anxious to obtain, the equitable adjustment; and in that case it is a problem how far that may not be really equitable, for society may, by degrees, arrive tt a state so anomalous as to warrant that the few should be sacrificed for the benefit of the community at large. OLLA PODRIDA CHAPTER X BRUSSELS, May 22. .A.MONG the lions of Brussels, a dog was pointed out to me, as he lay on the pavement in front of the House of Assembly. It was a miserable looking cur ; but he had a tale extra attached to him, which had magnified him into a lion. It was said that he belonged to a Dutch soldier who was killed in the revolution, at the spot where the dog then lay, and that ever since (a period of four years) the animal had taken up his quarters there, and invariably lain upon that spot. Whether my informant lied, and the dog did not, I cannot pretend to say ; but if the story be true, it was a most remarkable specimen of fidelity and ugliness. And he was a sensible dog, moreover ; instead of dying of grief and hunger, as some foolish dogs have done, he has always dedicated an hour every evening to cater for his support, and then returns to pass the night on the spot. I went up to him, and when within two yards he thought proper to show his teeth and snarl most dogmatically ; I may, therefore, in addition to his other qualities, state that he is an ill-natured dog. How far the report was correct I cannot vouch, but 1 watched him three or four days, and always found him at his post; and after such strict investigation, had I asserted ten years instead of four, I have a prescriptive right as a traveller to be believed. It is singular that it is only in England that you can find dogs, properly so called ; abroad they have nothing but curs. I do not know anything more puzzling than the genealogy of the animals you meet with under the denomina- tion of dogs in most of the capitals of Europe. It would appear as if the vice of promiscuous and unrestricted inter-' course had been copied from their masters ; and I have been almost tempted to take up the opinion, that you may judge of the morality of a capital from the degeneracy of the dogs. I have often, at Paris, attempted to make out a descent ; but found it impossible. Even the late Sir G. Naylor, with all the herald's office, stimulated by double fees, could not manage to decipher escutcheons obliterated by so many crosses. 4P DIARY ON THE CONTINENT I am very partial to dogs, and one of my amusements, when travelling, is to watch their meetings with each other ; they appear to me to do everything but speak. Indeed, a constant observer will distinguish in dogs many of the pas- sions, virtues, and vices of men ; and it is generally the case, that those of the purest race have the nobler qualifications. You will find in them devotion, courage, generosity, good temper, sagacity, and forbearance; but these virtues, with little alloy, are only to be found in the pure breeds. A cur is quite a lottery ; he is a most heterogeneous compound of virtue and vice, and sometimes the amalgamation is truly ludicrous. Notwithstanding which, a little scrutiny of his countenance and his peculiar movements will soon enable you to form a very fair estimate of his general character and disposition. disposition. One of the most remarkable qualities in dogs is the fidelity of their attachments ; and the more so as their attachments are very often without any warrantable cause. For no reason that can be assigned, they will take a partiality to people or animals, which becomes a feeling so dominant that their existence appears to depend upon its not being interfered with. I had an instance of this kind, and the parties are all living. I put up for an hour or two, at a livery stables in town, i. pair of young ponies. On my taking them out again, the phaeton was followed by a large coach-dog about two years old, a fine grown animal, but not well marked, and in very poor condition. He followed us into the country ; but having my establishment of dogs (taxes taken into consideration), I ordered him to be shut out. He would not leave the iron gates ; and when they were opened, in he bolted, and hastening to the stables, found out the ponies, and was not to be dis- lodged from under the manger without a determined resist- ance. This alternate bolting in and bolting out continued for many d?.ys. Finding that I could not get rid of him, I sent him away forty miles in the country ; but he returned the next day, expressing the most extravagant joy at the sight of the ponies, who, strange to say, were equally pleased, allowing him to put his paws upon them, and bark in their faces. But although the ponies were partial to the dog, I was not ; and aware that a voyage is a great specific for curing improper attachments, I sent the dog down the river in a barge, re- A 1 OLLA PODRIDA questing the men to land him where they were bound, on the other side of the Medway ; but in three days the dog again made his appearance, the picture of famine and misery. Even the coachman's heart was melted, and the rights and privileges of his favourite snow-white terrier were forgotten. It was, therefore, agreed, in a cabinet council held in the harness-room, that we must make the best of it ; and, as the dog would not leave the ponies, the best thing we could do was to put a little flesh on his bones, and make him look respectable. We therefore victualled him that day, and put him on our books with the purser's name of Pompey. Now, this dog proved that, sudden as was his attachment to the ponies, it was of the strongest quality. He never would and never has since left these animals. If turned out in the fields, he remains out with them, night as well as day, taking up his station as near as possible half way between the two, and only coming home to get his dinner. No stranger can enter their stables with impunity ; for he is very powerful, and on such occasions very savage. A year or two after his domicilia- tion I sold the ponies, and the parties who purchased were equally anxious at first to get rid of the dog; but their attempts, like mine, were unavailing, and, like me, they at last became reconciled to him. On my return from abroad I repurchased them, and Pompey, of course, was included in the purchase. We are none of us perfect and Pompey had one vice ; but the cause of the vice almost changed it into a virtue. He had not a correct feeling relative to meum and tumn, but still he did not altogether steal for himself, but for his friends as well. Many have witnessed the fact of the dog stealing a loaf, or part of one, taking it into the stables, and dividing it into three portions, one for each pony, and the other for himself. I recollect his once walking off with a round of beef weighing seventeen or eighteen pounds, and taking it to the ponies in the field ; they smelt at it, but declined joining him in his repast. By-the-bye, to prove that lost things will turn up some day or another, there was a silver skewer in the beef, which was not recovered until two years afterwards, when it was turned up by the second ploughing. One day, as the ponies were in the field where I was watching some men at work, I heard them narrating to a stranger the wonderful feats DIARY ON THE CONTINENT of this dog, for I have related but a small portion. The dog was lying by the ponies as usual, when the servants' dinner- bell rang, and off went Pompey immediately at a hard gallop to the house to get his food. "Well, dang it, but he is a queer dog," observed the man, "for now he's running as fast as he can to answer the bell." CHAPTER XI May 23. W ITH all the faults of the Roman Church, it certainly ap- pears to me that its professors extend towards those who are in the bosom of their own Church a greater share than most other sects of the true spirit of every religion charity. The people of the Low Countries are the most bigoted Catholics at present existing, and in no one country is there so much private as well as public charity. It is, however, to private charity that I refer. In England there is certainly much to be offered in ex- tenuation, as charity is extorted by law to the utmost farthing. The baneful effects of the former poor laws have been to break the links which bound together the upper and lower classes, produced by protection and goodwill in the former, and in the latter by respect and gratitude. Charity by Act of Parlia- ment has dissolved the social compact the rich man grumbles when he pays down the forced contribution while the poor man walks into the vestry with an insolent demeanour, and claims relief, not as a favour, but as a right. The poor laws have in themselves the essence of revolution, for if you once establish the right of the poor man to any portion of the pro- perty of the rich, you admit a precedent so far dangerous, that the poor may eventually decide for themselves what portion it may be that they may be pleased to take ; and this be- comes the more dangerous, as it must be remembered that the effect of the poor laws is repulsion between the two classes, from the one giving unwillingly and the other receiving unthaiik- fully. How the new Poor Law Bill will work remains to be proved ; but this is certain, that much individual suffering must take place before it works out the great end which it is intended to obtain. That the Roman Catholic laity are more charitable is not a 43 OLLA PODRIDA matter of surprise, as they are not subjected to forced contri- butions ; but it appears to me that the Catholic clergy are much more careful and kind to their flocks than our own. How, indeed, can it be otherwise, when even now, although so much reform in the Church has been effected, so many of our clergymen are pluralists and non-residents, expending the major part of the Church revenue out of the parish, leaving to the curate, who performs the duty, a stipend which renders it impossible for him to exercise that part of his Christian duty to any extent ? for charity begins at home, and his means will not allow him to proceed much farther. That serious evils have arisen from the celibacy of the Roman clergy is true, for priests are but men, and are liable to temptation ; but it is equally certain that when a Roman Catholic clergyman is a pure and pious man, he has nothing to distract his attention from the purposes of his high calling, and not only his whole attention is devoted to his flock, but his existence, if necessary, is voluntarily endangered. At the period of the cholera there were many remarkable instances of this devotion to death on the part of the Roman priesthood, and as many, I am forced to say, of the Protestant clergy flying from the epidemic, and leaving their flocks without a shepherd. And why so ? Because the Protestant clergymen had wives and families depending upon them for support, whose means of existence would terminate with their own lives. It was very natural that they should prefer the welfare of their own families to that of their parishioners. But in other cases not so extreme, the en- cumbrance of a family to a clergyman in England is very often in opposition to his duty. To eke out a scanty remuneration, he sets up a school or takes in pupils. Now, if the duties of a clergyman consisted in merely reading the services on a Sunday, and christening, burying, and marrying, he might well do so ; but the real duties of a clergyman are much more important. His duty is to watch over the lives and conduct of his parishioners, to exhort, persuade, and threaten, if neces- sary ; to be ever among his flock, watching them as a shepherd does his sheep. And how can he possibly do this if he takes charge of pupils ? He must either neglect his pupils or neglect his parish ; he cannot do justice to both. As St. Paul says to the bishops, " Although it is better to marry than burn, still it is better to be even as I am," unencumbered with wife and 44 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT family, and with no ties to distract my attention from my sacred and important calling. But the public charitable institutions abroad are much better conducted than those of England, where almost everything of the kind is made a job, and a source of patronage for pretend- ing pious people, who work their way into these establishments for their own advantage. It is incredible the number of poor people who are effectually relieved on the Continent in the course of the year at an expense which would not reach the weekly disbursements of a large parish in England. But then, how much more judicious is the system ! I know for a fact that, in the county where I reside, and in which the hard- working labourer, earning his twelve shillings a week, is quite satisfied if he can find sufficient bread for his family (not tast- ing meat, perhaps, ten times during the whole year), those who were idlers, supported by charity, were supplied with meat three or four times a week ; nay, even the felons and prisoners in the county gaol were better fed than was the industrious working-man. And this is what in England is called charity. It is base injustice to the meritorious. But many of the charitable institutions in England, from mal- administration, and pseudo-philanthropy, have become very little better than establishments holding out premiums for idleness and hypocrisy. Among the institutions founded by Roman Catholics and particularly deserving of imitation, that of the Soeurs de la Charite appears to be the most vahaable. It is an institution which, like mercy, is twice blessed it blesses those who give and those who receive. Those who give, because many hun- dreds of females, who would otherwise be thrown upon the world, thus find an asylum, and become useful and valuable members of society. They take no vows they only conform to the rules of the sisterhood during the time that they remain in it, and if they have an opportunity, by marriage or other- wise, of establishing themselves, they are at free liberty to depart. How many young women, now forced into a wretched, wicked life, would gladly incorporate themselves into such a society in England ; how many, if such a society existed, would be prevented from falling into error ! It is well known, that to support a large community the expenses are trifling compared to what they are when you 45 OLLA PODRIDA have the same number of isolated individuals to provide for. A company of two or three hundred of these Sisters living together, performing among themselves the various household duties, washing, &c., and merely requiring their food, would not incur the same expense in house-rent, firing, and provi- sions, as thirty or forty isolated individuals. Soldiers in barracks are even well fed, housed, and clothed, at a much less expense than it costs the solitary labourer to eat his dry bread in his own cottage ; and the expenses of such com- munities, if once established, would very soon be paid by their receipts. It would be a double charity charity to those who would willingly embrace the life, and charity to those who might require their assistance. It is well known how difficult it is to obtain a sick-nurse in London. It is an avocation seldom embraced by people, until they are advanced in years, and all feeling has been dried up by suffering or disappointment. Those who undertake the task are only actuated by gain, and you can expect but eye-service. Not being very numerous, and constantly in demand, they are over-worked, and require stimulants in their long watchings. In fact, they drink and dose dose and drink again. But how different would it be if the establishments which I have referred to were formed ! Those who are wealthy would send for one of the Sisters when required, and if the illness were tedious, her service could be replaced by another, so that over fatigue might not destroy watchfulness and atten- tion to the patient. You would at once feel that you had those in your house in whom you could confide. If your means enabled you, you would send a sum to the funds of the charity in return for the service performed, and your liberality would enable them to succour those who could only repay by bless- ings. A very small subscription would set afloat such a charity, as the funds would so rapidly come in ; and if under the surveillance of the medical men who attended the hospitals, it would soon become effective and valuable. I trust if this should meet the eye of any real philanthropist who has time to give, which is more valuable than money, that he will turn it over in his mind : the founder would be a benefactor to his country. 46 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT . CHAPTER XII May 25. A. MAN cannot die more than once, is an old apothegm, and it would appear bold to dispute it ; but still there are lives within lives, such as political lives, literary lives, &c., and there is also such a thing as being dead in the eye of the law; so that it is evident that a man can die twice, that is, once professionally or legally, and once naturally. I presume, like all other scribblers, I must meet my literary death, that is, when I have written myself down, or have written myself out. I have no objection, for I am very weary of my literary existence, although authors are not so in general ; on the contrary, they can perceive in themselves no sign of decay when it is apparent to everybody around them. Literary decay is analogous to the last stage of a consumption, in which you believe you are not going to die, and plan for the future as if you were in perfect health. And yet to this complexion must all authors come at last. There is not a more beautiful, or more true portrait of human nature, than the scene between the Archbishop of Grenada and Gil Bias, in the admirable novel of Le Sage. Often and often has it been brought to my recollection since I have taken up the pen, and often have I said to myself, " Is this homily as good as the last ? " (perhaps homily is not exactly the right term for my writings). The great art in this world, not only in writing, but in everything else, is to know when to leave off. The mind as well as the body must wear out. At first it is a virgin soil, but we cannot renew its exhausted vigour after it has borne successive crops. We all know this, and yet we are all archbishops of Grenada. Even the immortal Walter Scott might have benefited by the honesty of Gil Bias, and have burnt his latter homilies ; but had he had such an unsophisti- cated adviser, would he not, in all probability, have put him out by the shoulders, wishing him, like the venerable hierarch, f< a little more taste than judgment." Since I have been this time abroad, I have made a discovery for which all prose writers ought to feel much indebted to me. Poets can invoke Apollo, the Muses, the seasons, and all Sorts and varieties of gods and goddesses, naked or clothed, 47 OLLA PODRIDA besides virtues and vices, and if none of them suit they may make their own graven image, and fall down before it ; but we prose writers have hitherto had no such advantage, no protecting deity to appeal to in our trouble, as we bite our pens, or to call upon them to deliver us from a congestion of the brain. Now, being aware that there were upwards of three hundred and fifty thousand canonised saints on the Roman calendar, I resolved to run through the catalogue, to ascertain if there was one who took prose authors under his protection, and to my delight I stumbled upon our man. By-the-bye, Tom Moore must have known this, and he has behaved very ill in keeping him all to himself. But I must introduce him. It is the most holy and the most blessed St. Brandon. Holy St. Brandon, inspire me, and guide my pen while I record thy legend! In the first place, let me observe that our patron saint was an Irishman, and none the worse for that, as Ireland has had as good saints as any in the calendar. And it is now clear that he does protect us prosaic writers, by the number of reporters and gentlemen of the press who have been sent over from the sister kingdom. But to proceed. St. Brandon, it appears, was a reading man, and amused himself with voyages and travels ; but St. Brandon was an unbeliever, and thought that travellers told strange things. He took up the Zoology of Pliny, and pursued his accounts of "Antres vast, and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders." He read until his patience was exhausted, and in a fit of anger he threw the manuscript into the flames. Now this was a heavy sin, for a man's book is the bantling of his brain, and, to say the least, it was a literary infanticide. That very night an angel appeared to him, and as a penance for his foul crime (in the enormity of which every author will agree with the angel), he was enjoined to make the book over again, no easy task in those days, when manuscripts were rare, and the art of book-making had not been invented. The sinner, in obedience to the heavenly mission, goes to work ; he charters a vessel, lays in provisions for a seven years' voyage, and, with a crew of seven monks, he makes sail, and after going round the world seven times, during which the world went round the sun seven times, he completed his task in seven volumes folio, which he never published, but carried his manuscript away with him to prove that he had performed hig DIARY ON THE CONTINENT penance. For this miraculous voyage and certainly, with such a ship's company, it was a miracle- he was canonised, and is now the patron saint of all prose authors, particularly those whose works are measured by the foot-rule. And now that I have made known to my fraternity that we also have a saint, all they have to do is to call upon him six or seven times, when their brains are at sixes and sevens. I opine that holy St. Brandon made a very hazard-ous voyage, for it is quite clear that, in the whole arrangement, it was seven's the main. CHAPTER XIII En route, May 26. JL ASSED Waterloo was informed that, two days before, the Marquis of Anglesea had arrived there, and stayed a short time to visit the cemetery of his leg; a regular family visit, of course, as all the members were present. May 27. Slept at Namur. The French are certainly superior to us in the art of rendering things agreeable. Now, even in the furnishing of a common apartment, there is always something to relieve the eye, if not to interest you. I recollect when I was last in London, in furnished apartments, that as I lay awake in the morning, my eye caught the pattern of the paper. It was a shepherdess with her dog in repose, badly executed, and repeated without variation over the whole apartment. Of course I had nothing to do but to calculate how many shepherdesses and dogs there were in the room, which, by counting the numbers in length and breadth, squaring the result, and deducting for door and windows, was soon accomplished. But how different was the effect produced by the paper of the room in which I slept last night ! It was the history of Dunois, the celebrated bastard of France, who prays in his youth that he may prove the bravest of the brave, and be rewarded with the fairest of the fair. This was not the true history, perhaps, of Dunois ; but I am drawing the comparison between the associations and reminiscences conjured up by this decoration in opposition to the dull and tasteless recapitulation of the English manu- 49 OLLA PODRIDA facture. From the latter I could not extract a bare idea, except that shepherdesses are, as a race, extinct, and that Lord Althorp had taken the tax off shepherds' dogs, by way of a bonus, to relieve a distressed capital of some hundred millions, to which the agricultural interest had very properly replied, "Thank you for nothing, my lord;" but from the sight of the French paper what a host of recollections started up at the moment ! The mind flew back to history, and was revel- ling in all the romance of chivalry, from King Arthur and his Knights, to the Field of the Cloth of Gold. " Yet, after all," thought I, at the end of a long reverie, "divest chivalry, so called, of its imposing effect, examine well into its nature and the manners of the times, and it must be acknowledged that the modern warfare has a much greater claim than the ancient to the title of chivalry. In former times men were cased in armour of proof, and, before the discovery of gunpowder, had little to fear in a mtfec, except from those who, like themselves, were equally well armed and equally protected, and even then only from flesh wounds, which were seldom mortal. The lower classes, who served as common soldiers, were at the mercy of the mounted spearsmen, and could seldom make any impression upon their defences. In those day, as in the present, he who could command most gold carried the day, for the gold procured the steel harness, and a plump of spears brought into the field was more than equal to a thousand common men. He who had the best tempered armour was the most secure, and that was to be only procured by gold. He who could mount and case in iron the largest number of his followers was the most powerful, and, generally speaking, the most lawless. Divest chivalry of its splendour, which threw a halo round it, and it was brutal and almost cowardly. Single combats did certainly prove courage ; but even in them, skill, and more than skill, personal strength, or the best horse, decided the victory. In fact, although not the origin, it was the upholder of the feudal system, in which might was right ; and, we may add, that the invention of gunpowder, which placed every man upon a level, if not the cause of, certainly much assisted to break up the system. How much more of the true spirit of chivalry is required in the warfare of the present day, in which every man must stand for hours to be shot at like a target, witnessing DIARY ON THE CONTINENT m the mowing down of his comrades, and silently filling up the intervals in the ranks made by their deaths, exposed to the same leaden messengers ; a system of warfare in which every individual is a part of a grand whole, acting upon one concerted and extended plan, and forced a hundred times to exhibit the passive and more perfect bravery of constancy, for once that he may forget his danger in the ardour of the charge ! When shall we learn to call things by their right names ? " ' LlfcGE, May 28. Our landlord is a most loyal man, but there is a reason for it. Leopold took up his quarters at this hotel on his way to Spa. In every room we have upon every article of faijcncc " Leopold, with the Genius of Belgium crowning him with laurels, while Truth is looking on." Every plate, every dish, is impressed with this proof print of loyalty. But this is not all, as the man said in the packet, " Oh no ! " All the wash- hand basins, jugs, and every other article required in a bed- chamber, have the same loyal pattern at the bottom. Now it appeared to me, when I went to bed, that loyalty might be carried too far ; and what may have been intended as respect may be the cause of his Majesty being treated with the greatest disrespect ; and not only his sacred Majesty, but the glorious Belgian constitution also. As for poor Truth, she is indeed said to sojourn at the bottom of a well ; but in this instance it would, perhaps, be as well that she should not be insulted I am wrong, she always is, and always will be, insulted, when she appears in the purlieus of a court, or in the presence of a king. After all, mine is a strange sort of Diary. It is not a diary of events, but of thoughts and reminiscences, which are thrown up and caught as they float to the surface in the whirlpool of my brain. No wonder ! events are but as gleanings com- pared to the harvest of many years, although so negligently gathered into store. I have been puzzling myself these last two hours to find out what a man's brain is like. " It is like a kaleidoscope," thought I; "it contains various ideas of peculiar colours, and as you shift them round and past, you have a new pattern every moment." But no, it was not like a kaleido- scope, for the patterns of a kaleidoscope are regular, and there is very little regularity in my brain, at all events. 51 OLLA PODRIOA " It is like a pawnbroker's shop," said I, " full of hetero- geneous pledges; and if you would take anything out, experience stands at the counter, and makes you pay her compound interest, while many articles of value are lost for ever, because memory cannot produce the duplicate." And then I compared it to almost everything, but none of my comparisons would hold good. " After all," thought I, " I have been only playing at ' What are my thoughts like ? ' which is a childish game ; and how can I possibly find out what my brain is like, when my brain don't choose to tell ? " So I rose, and opening the window, lighted my cigar, and smoked myself into a reverie, as I watched the smoke ascend- ing from the chimneys of the good town of Liege. "And this is the city which travellers pass through, de- scribing it as a mere manufacturing town," thought I. " A city which has, in its time, produced a greater moral influence upon society than any other in existence a city that has led the van in the cause of religion e,nd liberty." Liege presents a curious anomaly among the states of Europe. It is the only town and province, with the exception of Home, which has been, for centuries, ruled by the clerical power. But be it recollected, that at the very period that Christianity was offer- ing up her martyrs in the blood-stained arena of the Coliseum, it .was from Liege (or rather Tongres, for Liege was not then built) that she was spreading wide her tenets, unpersecuted and unrestrained, for she was too far removed from idolatry and imposture to be regarded. The province of Liege was the cradle of the Christian faith. From the earliest records there were bishops at Tongres ; and it was about five hundred years after Christ that St. Monulphe, the reigning bishop, founded the city of Liege. From that time until the French Revolution, this town and these fertile provinces had always remained under clerical authority. Although these prince-bishops proved that, upon necessity, they could change the crosier for the coat of mail, still, as by endowments and benefactions they increased their revenues, so did they, by the mildness of their sway, induce thousands to settle in their territory ; and to increase their population (which was to increase their wealth), they first granted to their citizens those privileges and liberties which have, upon their precedent, been obtained by force or prayers by others. 52 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT The very boast of the English of the present day, that every man's house i 83 OLLA PODRIDA so they get up again, and pocket the affront, that they may not lose time in filling their pockets. Talking about roguery, there was a curious incident occurred some time back, in which a rascal was completely outwitted. A bachelor gentle- man, who was a very superior draftsman and caricaturist, was laid up in his apartments with the gout in both feet. He could not move, but sat in an easy-chair, and was wheeled by his servant in and out of his chamber to his sitting-room. Now, a certain well-known vagabond ascertained the fact, and watched until the servant was sent upon a message. The servant came out of the front door, but left the area door open, communicating with the kitchen. Down went the vagabond, entered the kitchen, and walked upstairs, where, as he anticipated, he found the gentleman quite alone and helpless. " I am sorry, sir, to see you in this situation," said the rogue ; " you cannot move, and your servant is out." The gentleman stared. " It is excessively careless of you to leave yourself so exposed ; for behold the consequences. I take the liberty of removing this watch and these seals off the table, and putting them into my own pocket ; and, as I perceive your keys are here, I shall now open these drawers, and see what suits my purpose." " Oh ! pray help yourself, I beg," replied the gentleman, who was aware that he could do nothing to prevent him. The rogue did so accordingly ; he found the plate in the sideboard drawer, and many other articles which suited him, and in about ten minutes, having made up his bundle, he made the gentleman a very low b:>w, and decamped. But the gentleman had the use of his hands, and had not been idle ; he had taken an exact likeness of the thief with his pencil, and on his servant returning soon after, he despatched him immediately to Bow Street with the drawing, and an account of what had happened. The likeness was so good that the man was immediately identified by the runners, and was captured before he had time to dispose of a single article purloined. He was brought to the gentleman in two hours afterwards, identified, the property found on him sworn to, and in six weeks he was on his passage to Botany Bay. DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER XXI ._. LONDON, November. W E have the signs of the times here. I peep through the fog and see quite enough to satisfy me that the prosperity is but partial. Money in plenty, but lying in heaps not circulated. Every one hugs his bag, and is waiting to see what the event may be. Retrenchment is written up as evident as the prophetic words of fire upon the walls of Belshazzar's palace To let to let to let. Leave London in any direction, and you find the same mystical characters every one hundred yards of the road. This beautiful villa, this cottage omt'e, this capital house with pleasure-grounds, this mansion and park all all to let. It is said that there are upwards of seven thousand of these country seats to let within twelve miles of the metropolis. Again, look at the arms of the carriages which still roll through the streets, and you will perceive that, if not with a coronet or supporters, nine out of ten have the widow's lozenge. And why so ? because they belong to the widows of those who died in the times of plenty, and who left them large jointures upon their estates. They, of course, can still support, and even better support, the expense ; but the estates now yield but sufficient to pay the jointure, and the incumbent swallows up the whole. And where are the real owners of the properties ? At Paris, at Naples, at Brussels, if they can aft'ord to be in a capital if not, dispersed over Belgium, Switzerland, and Italy re- trenching in other countries, or living more comfortably upon their incomes. How many millions, for it does amount to millions, are now spent on the Continent, enriching the people of other countries, and in all probability laying up for those countries the sinews for another war to be directed against England ! How much of wretchedness and starvation has been suffered in our own country within these few years, which, if our people had not been living abroad, might never have been felt! Where are the elite of our aristocracy? Where are our country gentlemen who used to keep open house at their estates, disseminating their wealth and pro- ducing happiness? All driven abroad society disjointed no leader of fashion to set the example by luxurious entertain- 85 OLLA PODRIDA ments, of disseminating that wealth which ultimately finds its way into the greasy pocket of the labourer or mechanic. Shops opened late and closed early. Gin palaces, like hell, ever open to a customer. The pulse of London hardly beats it is perceptible, but no more. Nothing is active but the press and the pressure from without. But who would remain ten days in London in the month of November, when he can go away, without he had serious thoughts of suicide ? Candles at high noon, yellow fogs, and torches in midday do not suit me, so I'm off again to a purer atmosphere. CHAPTER XXII SPA, June 30. YESTERDAY I fell in with two old friends, who, from a mere "truant disposition," joined, perhaps, with a little good- will towards me, came over to Spa. As soon as their arrival had been announced, I went to them, and at their request joined their dinner. After our first greetings, B , who not only appears, but really is a man of fashion, in the best sense of the term, wanted his snuff-box. It was in his bed- room, and his bedroom was locked by the servant, who had taken the key and gone out. The consequence was that B had to wait some time, and until the man came back. I have always had a great aversion to a valet when constantly moving about on the Continent as a single man ; and although I do not now, as I used to do when a midshipman, brush my own clothes and black my own shoes, yet I like independence in everything, and infinitely prefer doing anything myself, to being waited upon ; for, generally speaking, it is the master who waits and not the man. " I wonder you bother yourself with such a travelling appendage, B ," observed I, giving him a pinch of snuff to quiet his impatience. " I have never lately travelled with one." " My dear fellow the comfort of it you have no idea. It would be impossible to get on without one." "Quite impossible," obser'ed W , my other acquaint- DIARY ON THE CONTINENT "I have been brought up in a school in which the word impossible has been erased from the language." " Well, but the comfort of it. When you arrive, dirty and dusty, your portmanteau opened, all your articles of dress laid out." " I can do all that myself sooner than he can ; and as I must wait till it be clone, I may as well do it myself." " Yes, so you may, but then the security ; everything locked up ; which, in a strange hotel, is so necessary." " I lock my own room, and know where to find the key when I come in." " Very likely ; but still it is impossible to travel, comfort- ably without a valet." " Quite impossible," rejoined W . "Be it so," replied I; "we differ in opinion. All I can say is, that necessary as a valet is when stationary, he is a nuisance when you travel en gallon." The conversation dropped, and we sat down to dinner ; the time passed away, as it alwavs does, when old friends, who respect and like each other, meet after an absence of some months. After dinner we smoked cigars ; and as the evening advanced, there were none left on the table. B rang the bell for his servant to procure others; the servant had gone out and was nowhere to be found, and for security had locked the bedroom door and taken the key with him. So we drank our claret, and waited for his return. " Thinks I to myself " but I said nothing. At last, we waited till past twelve o'clock; but the gentleman's gentleman Avas nowhere to be found. B was angry with the man, W had thrown himself on the sofa. He wished to go to bed after a long day's travel ; but his key was also, for security, in the valet's pocket, who had been searched for everywhere without success. B begged me not to remain out of politeness ; but I did remain, not out cf politeness, but of " malice," as the French term it. " I had too much pleasure in their company to think of leaving them ; " and we continued to sip brandy-and- water. At last, three o'clock came; B was out of all patience, W snoring on the sofa, and I quite delighted. The sun should have poured his beams upon us before I would have gone away. The bell was rung, but in vain, for the waiters would 87 OLLA PODRIDA \rait no longer. It was proposed to send for a menuisier to pick the lock ; but how was one to be found at three o'clock in the morning ? At last the valet, drunk and reeling, in his morning jacket, entered the room. " The keys ! the keys ! " demanded B , in wrath. "The key ! " roared W , who had woke up. " I have them," replied the valet, with a most knowing leer, facetiously smiling. " I have them all safe all right, gentlemen. Here they are," continued the man, pulling them out, and presenting them as if he had done a very clever thing. " Here they are, you see." The man was too tipsy to be expostulated with, and the gentlemen took their keys in silence. "And now," said I, "gentlemen, I wish you a very good night. You have fully established the extreme comfort of a travelling valet, and the impossibility of doing without one." It was a glorious victory, although to get out of the house I had to open a window and leap from it, and to get into my own house at that hour was even more difficult. CHAPTER XXIII 1 HAVE been reading Jesse's "Gleanings." Is he quite correct ? I have my doubts. In one point I certainly do not agree with him, in his favourite opinion of cats. I do, however, know an instance of misplaced affection in a cat, which, although it does not add to the moral character of the race, is extremely curious for more reasons than one, and as it happened in my own family, I can vouch for its authenticity. A little black spaniel had five puppies, which were considered too many for her to bring up. As, how- ever, the breed was much in request, her mistress was un- willing that any of them should be destroyed, and she asked the cook whether she thought it would be possible to bring a portion of them up by hand before the kitchen fire. In reply, the cook observed that the cat had that day kittened, and that perhaps the puppies might be substituted for her progeny. The experiment was made, two of the kittens were removed, and two puppies substituted. The cat made DIARY ON THE CONTINENT no objections, took to them kindly, and gradually all the kittens were taken away, and the cat nursed the two puppies only. Now, the first curious fact was that the two puppies nursed by the cat were, in a fortnight, as active, forward, and playful as kittens would have been : they had the use of their legs, barked, and gambolled about ; while the other three, nursed by the mother, were whining and rolling about like fat slugs. The cat gave them her tail to play with, and they were always in motion : they very soon ate meat, and long before the others they were fit to be removed. This was done, and the cat became very inconsolable. She prowled about the house, and on the second day of tribula- tion fell in with the little spaniel, who was nursing the other three puppies. " Oh ho ! " says puss, putting up her back, "it is you who have stolen my children." "No," replied the spaniel, with a snarl ; " they are my own flesh and blood." "Tliat won't do," said the cat; "I'll take my oath before any justice of peace that you have my two puppies." There- upon issue was joined, that is to say, there was a desperate combat, which ended in the defeat of the spaniel, and the cat walking proudly off with one of the puppies, which she took to her own bed. Having deposited this one, she re- turned, fought ag;iin, gained another victory, and redeemed another puppy. Now, it is very singular that she should have only taken two, the exact number she had been de- prived of. Does this not prove, to a certain extent, the power of calculating numbers in animals ? and does not the precocity of the two puppies brought up by the cat infer there is some grounds for the supposition that with the milk is imbibed much of the nature and disposition of the mother ? A few experiments made on these points would be interesting, and we should have a new science, that of lacleolosy, to add to craniology, in our nurture and rearing of the species. This reminds me of a singular fact little known. The Burmahs, who are disciples of Gaudma, equally with the inhabitants of Pegu and Syriam, whose country they have conquered, worship the White Elephant, who is considered as a god. There have been but three white elephants since the foundation of the Burmah dynasty by Alompraa. The first one is dead., and I have one of his teeth, carved with 89 OLLA PODRIDA figures, which was consecrated to the great Dagon Pagoda. The second now reigns he is attended by hundreds, wears a howdah, or cloth, studded with precious stones, which is said to be worth a million of money. He also wears his bangles or armlets on each leg, and fares sumptuously every day. White elephants are very scarce ; the colour is occa- sioned by a disease in the animal, a species of leprosy. Any elephant hunter in these countries who is fortunate enough to capture a white elephant is immediately created a noble, and advanced to high honour and wealth. The third white elephant, of which I am about to speak particularly, and who may be considered as the heir apparent, was taken a few months previous to our declaring war against the Burmahs. He was very young ; his mother had been killed, and he yet required partial nourishment He was brought to Rangoon, established in one of the best houses in the place, and an edict was sent forth from the capital, ordering that twenty- four of the most healthy young married women should be dedicated to his wants, and if they fell off in powers of nourishment, be replaced by others. This was considered an honour for were they not nursing a god? Major Canning, the political agent, who went to see this curious spectacle, described it to me as follows : " The animal was not above three feet and a few inches high, its colour was a dirty grev, rather than white ; it was very healthy, playful, and in good spirits. When I went into the room, which was very spacious, and built of teakwood, the twenty-four nurses were sitting or lying on mats about the room, some playing at draughts and other games, others working ; the elephant walking about, looking at them, and what they were doing, as if he under- stood all about it. After a short time, the little deity felt hungry, and with his trunk he pushed some of the women, but to annoy him they would not yield to his solicitations. When he became angry, and was too rough for them, they submitted, and he put his trunk round their waists in the most affectionate manner, while he was supplying himself." I did not see the animal myself, as immediately that they heard of our arrival at the mouth of the river, they despatched him, under a strong guard, to a place of security. But I should like to ascertain hereafter, whether his nurture made him a more reasonable being than are elephants in general, 90 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT How one's thoughts fly away over time and space ! What a rush of incidents crowd into my memory, merely from having mentioned the circumstance of the white elephant. I did once intend to have written a narrative of what passed during our sojourn in that country, for I saw more of the inhabitants than most people ; but others have forestalled me, and it is now too late. Nevertheless, it will perhaps amuse the reader if, without entering into the military details, I mention a few of the operations and scenes which then occurred. It shall be so then, and we will discourse a little about the Burmahs. An Armenian merchant who resided there told me a ttory one day which was curious. The King of Pegu was possessed of the most splendid ruby in the world, both as to size and colour. This was well known ; it was the boast of the nation. When the Burmahs subdued the kingdom of Pegu, the old king, with all his family, were taken prisoners, vast treasure was also captured, but the great ruby was not to be found, notwithstanding the torture and beheading of thousands. With the usual barbarity of those countries, the old king, a miserable, paralytic little man, was stripped naked and con- fined in an iron cage, which I saw when I was at Rangoon. In this confinement he lived for ten or twelve years, every festival day being brought out and exposed to the derision of the populace. At last he died, and his body was thrown out to be devoured by the dogs and birds of prey. One of the soldiers who assisted to drag the body out of the cage, turned it over with his foot, and perceived that his right hand grasped a lump of dantma (a sort of pitch), which curiosity induced the Burrnah to force out \\iih the point of his spear. This had been observed before, but the Burmahs, who are very superstitious, and carry about them all sorts of charms, imagined it to be a charm for the paralysis or palsy with which he was afflicted, and, therefore, had allowed him to retain it. But when the Burmah took it up, the weight of it convinced him that it was not all damma ; he examined it, and found that it was the great ruby of the Pegu kingdom which had been lost, and which the old man had for so many years, in a state of nudity and incarceration, held in his left hand. I asked one of the Burmah chiefs whether this ruby, now in the possession of the King of Ava, 91 OLLA PODRIDA was as fine as represented : his answer was in truly Eastern hyperbole " Dip it in the Irrawaddy," said he (that is, an enormous river seven hundred miles long, and in many parts several miles broad), "and the whole water will turn to blood." I have said that the Burmahs are very superstitious : they have a great variety of charms which they wear about their persons, but there is one custom of theirs which is very singular. They polish rubies ; that is, without cutting them in facettes, but merely the stone, whatever its primitive shape, is rubbed down on every side until it is perfectly smooth. They then make an incision in the flesh, generally the arm or leg, put in the ruby, and allow the skin to heal over it, so that the stone remains there. Soldiers and sailors in search of plunder will find out anything, and this practice of the Burmahs was soon discovered ; and after the assault and carrying of a stockade, you would see the men passing their hands over the bodies, and immediately they felt a rising in the limb, out with their knives and cut in for the rubies. Indeed, the plunder was more considerable than might be imagined, for every Burmah carried all his wealth about his person. Another singular custom arising from their superstition prevails among this people. The king has a corps denomi- nated Invulnerablcs, whose ranks are filled up in this manner : when a criminal is condemned to death for certain offences, such as robbery, he is permitted to challenge as an invulner- able. This is proved by his standing at a certain distance from several men who fire at him with ball. Should he not be wounded or killed, he is pronounced an invulnerable and enrolled in the corps. In every stockade we attacked there were always one or two of these men, and they really appeared to believe in their own powers. They generally stood above the timbers of the stockade, dancing and caper- ing as the boats advanced, and continued their extravagance amidst a shower of bullets, exposing their persons in a most undaunted manner. There was one fellow, dressed in a short red jacket, and nothing else except the cloth round his loins, who was well known to our men; they called him Happy Jack, from the capers which he used to cut, and some- how or another it was his goo:l fortune never to be hit, at 92 DIAftY ON THE CONTINENT least, not that we knew of, for taking stockade after stockade, at every fresh attack there was Happy Jack to be seen capering and shouting as usual, and never ceasing to expose himself until the troops had landed and were about to scale the fortress. It was quite amusing to hear the men shout out with laughter, " By heavens, there's Happy Jack again." 1 hope he is alive at this moment ; at all events, he deserves to be. CHAPTER XXIV SPA. JL ES, now Spa is agreeable : we have no redouble open with fools losing their money, no English passants looking after amusement, no valetudinarians drinking the poupon, no Spa boxes crowding every window : we are now as a Spa should be, a coterie of houses in a ravine, surrounded by the moun- tains of the Ardennes, crowding and shoving up together in mutual protection against the deep snow and the forest wolves. There is something new in this : most of the houses are shut up ; the shop windows are all bare ; the snow is two feet deep in the streets ; the mountains on every side are white ; the icicles hang upon the leafless boughs, and the rivulets are enchained. All is one drear blank ; and except the two- horse diligence which heaves slowly in sight three or four hours past its time, and the post (which is now delivered at nine o'clock instead of noon) : there is no such thing as an ai'rival : the boys slide upon their little sledges down the hills ; the cattle are driven home ; the church clock strikes ; and unless we are enlivened by the crowd assembled round the countryman who appears with the carcass of a wolf which he has been fortunate enough to kill, we are all quiet, monotony, and peace : in fact, Spa, now that it is a desert, has become to me, at least, agreeable. They say this hard winter promises plenty of wolves ; if so, I recommend those who are fon -1 of excitement to come here. Indeed, it will be profitable, for if they are active huntsmen, they can pay their expenses. A dead horse costs- little, and in Spa, as they give very little to the horses to eat in summer, and nothing at all in the winter, they die fast. You have only to drag the carcass to an outhouse at a little distance 1)3 OLLA PODRIDA from the town, and with your rifle watch during the night The wolves will come down to prey upon the carrion, and it is hard if you do not kill your couple during the night, and then you are rewarded by the commune. I do not know what the price is now, but when the King of Holland was in possession of Belgium it was one hundred francs for a male, and three hundred francs for a female wolf. Now a brace a night, four hundred francs, or sixteen pounds, is not a bad night's earning : in Spa it would keep a half-pay officer for three months. There is a curious story hei-e, proving the sagacity of a wolf which came down an hour before dusk into the town, and made off with a child of two years old in her mouth. The cry was raised, and the pursuit immediate. After following her track for many miles, she gained upon them, it became quite dark, and the people returned home- wards, melancholy at the fate of the poor child. When they were about half way back, they heard the wail of an infant, and, guided by it, they arrived at a thick bush, where they found the child alive and unhurt. The wolf, finding that her pursuers gained upon her, had deposited the child there, intending to return and make a meal of it upon a more favourable opportunity. We have had nothing to excite us within these last few days but the death and burial of an old curate. He died in all the odour of sanctity three days ago, and was buried yesterday. He was not loved or even liked, for he wanted that greatest of all gifts charity. His situation was worth, with offerings, six thousand francs a year, a large sum in this country : but he did not give to the poor ; he exacted from them, and they religiously obeyed him, no one killing a pig, or anything else, without a present of part of it to the curate. When the old man was told that he could not live, the ruling passion still governed him. He sent for a person to dispose of for him the sundry pieces of pork which he had gathered as presents, then took the extreme unction, and died. His will is not known, but he is supposed to be very rich, and whether he leaves his wealth to some nephews or to support a hospital here which is at present without funds, is a question of some interest. He was buried in great parade and procession, followed by hundreds holding candles. He was dressed in his best, and everv one said he never DIARY ON THE CONTINENT looked so clean or so well in his life. He was carried on an open brancard, with his canonical hat on his head ; the snow fell fast and settled on his face and clothes, but he felt it not. The funeral was as cold as his charity, the thermometer being exactly 13 below the freezing point. Except the procession of the dead 'curate and of a dead wolf, we have had nothing to interest us for the last ten days. But I promised to talk about the Burmahs. There have been two or three accounts of the military movements, but there has been no inquiry or examination into the character of the people which, in my opinion, is of more importance than is generally supposed ; for although the East India Company may imagine that they have done with the Burmahs,, it is my conviction that the Burmahs have not done with them, and even I may live to witness the truth of my assertion. It certainly ic a point of some interest to ascertain from whence the Burmah nation originally came : that they are not aborigines I think most certain. They are surrounded by the Cochin Chinese, the Chinese, and the Hindoos, all races of inferior stature and effeminate in person, with little or no beard. Now, the Burmahs are a very powerful race, very muscular in their limbs ; possessing great strength and energy : generally speaking, I should say that they are rather taller than Europeans. They have the high cheek bones of the Tartar, but not the small eyes ; they have strong hair and beards, and certainly would remind you of a cross between the Jew and the Tartar. This is singular ; and it gave the idea to some of those who are fond of indulging in theory that they might be the remnants of that portion of the Jews who, when permitted to leave Babylon, instead of going east with the others, bent their course to the westward, and were never spoken of afterwards. But the only props they had to this argument were the appearance of the people, the weight in silver being called the tekel or shekel, and the great pagoda having the name of the Dagon Pagoda. At least, I heard of no more to support the argument but those three, which can hardly be sufficient, although the coincidence of the two words is singular. The Burmahs are semi-barbarous : but this term must be used in the most favourable light ; because, surrounded on every side by people who are wedded to their own customs, 95 OLLA PODRIDA the Burmahs have a liberality and a desire to improve, which is very remarkable. 1 never met with any Burmah, not even a lad, who could not read and write ; they allow any form of religion to be made use of. and churches of any description to be built by foreigners, but they do not like missionaries making converts of their own people ; for as the king is the head of the religion, conversion is a breach of allegiance. One of the missionaries had an audience with the king, and demanded permission to make proselytes. The king replied that the missionary might convert as many as he pleased, but that he would cut all their heads off afterwards. The mis- sionary had not much trouble, when this answer was made known, in counting the heads of his proselytes. In their own religion, which is Buddhism, the Burmahs appear to be very relax ; it is too absurd for the energy of their minds. Those who enter the priesthood wear a yellow dress ; but if a priest at any time feels disposed to quit his profession, he is at liberty so to do. All he has to do is to throw off his yellow garment : but at the same time he can never resume it. The Burmahs are superstitious about charms, but are not super- stitious on religious points. In fact, there is very little religion among them, and had we, at the close of the war, instead of demanding a crore of rupees, insisted that they should embrace Christianity, the king would have given the order, and the whole nation would have nominally been Christians. I once asked a Burmah soldier what was his idea of a future state. His idea of bliss was singular " I shall be turned into a buffalo, and shall lie down in a meadow of grass higher than my head, and eat all day long, and there won't be a single mosquito to annoy me." While on the subject of religion, I may here observe, that at the capture of Rangoon I entered a Chinese temple ; the altar-piece, if I may use the term, was the Ganesa of the Hindoos, but not seated on the lotus leaf, but on the Chinese rat. On each side of this were two little candelabras, formed of the Egyptian ibis, holding the oil cups in its beak. I also found the Hounyman, or monkey god of the Hindoos, and Buddhist figures. I once observed some sepoys playing and laughing at a bronze image they had picked up at the pagoda of Syriam, and on examin- ing it, I was surprised to find that it was a figure of the Egyptian Isis, with her hand raised, and her person in the DIARY ON THE CONTINENT position described as the correct one when blessing the world. The art of embalming appears to be known to the Burmahs, and is occasionally practised by the priests. At the capture of the old Portuguese fort at Syriam, I found, not far from it, a sort of canopied shed, decorated with carv- ing, cut paper, and tinsel, and supported by four pillars, like a bedstead. Below lay the body of a priest, embalmed and gilt. I intended to have brought this home, but before I arrived there, I found one of my marines, a graceless dog without religion or any other good quality, very busy ham- mering the mummy to pieces with the butt end of nis musket. I was very angry, and ordered him to desist. In excuse, he replied that it was an abominable molten image, and it was his duty, as a good Christian, to destroy it the only evidence of Christianity ever witnessed on that fellow's part. On examination, I found that the body had been wrapped in sundry clothes, and, like the ark of Noah, pitched within and without : over the clothes was a coat of danmia, then of chunam, and lastly it was gilt ; the head of the mummy was fictitious, and formed of a cocoa-nut, the real skull being where, in the mummy, would have appeared to have been the breast of the body. It did not smell much, but there were a great many small scarabei inside, and it was so mutilated that I did not remove it. The Burmahs are cleanly in their houses, which generally are raised from the ground a few feet, so as to allow the pigs, which are the scavengers of the town, to walk under. They have houses of brick, or stone and mortar, such as the custom-house at Rangoon, and one or two others; but the most substantial houses are usually built of thick teak plank. The smaller houses and cottages are built of bamboo, the floors and walls being woven like wicker-work : the cleanliness and the beauty of these houses when new are very remarkable, and what is still more so, the rapidity with which they are built. I have known an officer order a house to be built of three rooms, with doors and windows to each, and of a comfortable size, and three or four Burmahs will complete this house in a day, and thatch the roof over. In another point the Burmahs shoM- a degree of civilisation which might be an example to the northern Athens to every house there is a very neat and clean cloaca. 97 O OLLA PODRIDA The government, like all in Asia, is most despotic ; and the people have the faults which are certain to be generated by despotism but not to that degree which might be expected. They have their hereditary nobility, and the orders of it are very clearly defined. They consist of gold chains, worn round the neck, with four plates or chased bosses dividing them ; the lowest order wears the bosses linked together by thi'ee chains, the next highest in degree with six, the next nine, and the last and highest order has twelve ; the king only wears twenty-four chains. The use of gold and silver, as drinking cups, &c., is only permitted to the nobility. They are very clever in chasing of metals, and they have a descrip- tion of work in glass and enamel, quite their own, with which they decorate the temples, houses of the priests, and coffers containing the sacred volumes. Their ornamental writings in the Pali language, a variety of the Sanscrit, known only to the priests, are also very beautiful especially that upon long leaves of ivory. Upon the whole, their manufactures are superior to all around them, except perhaps the Chinese. The women are small, and delicately formed, in pro}x>rtion to the men ; they are not shut up, but go where they please ; their dress is becoming; they braid the hair with flowers, and they are much fairer than would be supposed. Those who keep much within doors are nearly as white as Europeans. They have a singular custom of putting a patch of white chunam on the cheek-bone, something in opposition to the black patches which used formerly to be worn by our belles ; and it is intended to show how near they approach to white. Indeed, when the men of the lower class, who arc exposed all day to the sun, remove their garments, it is singular to witness how many shades lighter they are in that part of their bodies which is covered up. Usually, the men have but one wife, but occasionally there are supernumeraries. The laws of the Burmahs appear to be good, but, as in all despotic countries, they are not acted upon, unless it pleases the ruler. Slavery of a certain species is allowed. Should one man be in debt to another, he is summoned before the chief; if he states his inability to pay, he is asked how many children he has, and according to the debt, so are his children given in bond slavery to his creditor, who writes off a certain sum every year until they are free. If he has no children, DIARY ON THE CONTINENT his wife, or himself perhaps, will be bonded in the same manner. But in this case, where ill-treatment can be proved, the bondage will be removed ; and further, any person so bonded may, at his or her wish, remove to the service of another master, provided they can find one who will pay to the creditor the amount still due, and thus finish the time of servitude under one whom they like better. These bonds are all in writing, and must be produced. Some of our military officers released several of the young women from their slavery. Silling donm in your presence is, among the Burmese, a mark of respect. Every poor man who is sent for imme- diately drops down on his hams in the comer of the room, or at the portal. The use of the cocoa, or betel nut, is universal among the men, but not so common with the women until they grow old. The consequence is, that the teeth of the men are quite black and decayed, while those of the young women are very good. The most remarkable feature in the character of the Burmahs is their good temper; I think they are the most even-tempered race I ever met with. They are always gay, always content under any privation. I had, as will be seen hereafter, more opportunities of seeing into the character of this people than others had, for we mixed with them in amity for some weeks. They are very fond of marionettes and puppet playing, and are very amusing mimics. They work very hard, and with the greatest cheerfulness. They have a high respect for the English, or the white faces, as they call us ; and the superiority of our warlike instruments, and our ships, was a subject of wonder, and, at the same time, of most careful examination. They perceive how far they are behind us, and are most anxious to improve. For this reason, joined to others, it was a pity that we ever made war with the Burmahs : they had made an easy conquest of those around them, and were satisfied with their supposed superiority, but now they are not, for they are active and enterprising, fond of war, and will not be content until they have improved their system. Twenty years hence we shall find the Burmahs a much more formidable nation than they are at preseiit, for they have every quality necessary to become the first nation in the OLLA PODRIDA East : indeed, when we consider with what weapons they defended themselves, and the nature of the warfare, it is not a little to their credit that they held out for nearly three years against the power of Great Britain. CHAPTER XXV _, February 1836. JL HE Burmahs are decidedly a brave nation ; the govern- ment being despotic, their rulers are cruel, but the people are not. I state this, as cowardice and cruelty usually go hand in li.-iiid. Good temper and generosity are the prominent features in their character excellent materials to work upon in judicious hands. I witnessed acts of courage in the early part of the war, before the Burmahs found out how impossible it was to cope with our superior arms, which were most surpris- ing, and which excited our admiration. They are peculiarly a warlike nation ; indeed, they are fond of war. Every man is a soldier, and when ordered out to join the ranks, obeys without receiving any pay, providing his own arms. This fact at once establishes that they are inclined to war. Their arms generally consist of a double-handed sword, a weapon of great force, and very large spears ; but every one will possess a musket if he can, and if it has not a lock, he will fire it with a match. It is in this point that the Burmahs are so deficient in arms : we used to consider it a very courageous act to venture to fire off a Burmese musket, they were in such a wretched condition : and, to crown all, every man makes his own gunpowder. Now, it may be easily imagined what stuff this must be ; as, previous to an expected combat, ach Burmah sits down and composes the article to the best of his knowledge and belief. The consequences are, that when these muskets do go off (and it is ten to one they do not), it is again ten to one that the bullet falls short, from the inefficacy of the powder. There is another singular fact, and one which proves that they have been used to muskets but a short time : it is, that they have no bullet moulds or leaden bullets. All their bullets are of iron, hammered as round as they can hammer them at the forge ; of course, the windage pro- 100 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT duced by this imperfect shape occasions it to deviate much from its intended direction. The guns on their stockades and war-boats are equally defective, from bad powder and the hammered iron bullets. It is difficult to know where they could have collected such a curious assemblage. Sometimes you will fall in with a small brass piece of exquisite Spanish manufacture, at others you will find them of the strangest forms that can be con- ceived. I rather think they were purchased, or taken as a part of the duties on vessels trading to Rangoon. I recollect once, at the first taking of a stockade, we knocked off the trunnions of an old iron gun, and left it there as useless. The Burtnahs re-occupied the stockade, arid we had to take it a second time, when we found that they had most ingeniously supplied the want of trunnions with iron hoops and rivets, and the gun was fired at us before we entered. At another time, we entered a stockade which had kept up a brisk fire for a few minutes, and to our surprise found that they had made wooden guns, very well bound and braced with iron hoops. Of course these guns would not fire more than two or three shots each, as the touch-holes became inflamed, and were soon t.o large as to render the guns unserviceable ; but I mention these points to prove the perseverance of these people, and the efforts they made in their own defence. After the first campaign it is true that they deserted, and the levies were made by force ; but the reason of this, for I inquired into it, Mas not that they had any objection to fight, but that, fighting without pay, they wanted to go home and put the seed into the ground, as otherwise their wives and families would starve. The Burmah war-boats are very splendid craft, pulling from eighty to one hundred oars ; the Burmahs manage them very dexterously, and will pull them from seven to eight miles an hour. They have a war-boat dedicated to the deity, which brought intelligence that saved the nation at the time of the war with the empire of Pegu, in a space of time so short as almost to appear incredible. As I before observed, the gun mounted on the boat's bow is of little effect, but their spears are really formidable. At a night attack upon some of our vessels, anchored off a stockade which they wanted to regain, I had an evidence of the force 101 OLLA PODRIDA with which they are thrown. The sides of the vessels were covered with them, sticking out like porcupines' quills, and they had entered the plank with such force that it required a very strong arm to pull them out again. We lost some men by them; the effect of a hundred spears hurtling through the air at the same time was singularly appalling to our men, who were not accustomed to the sound, especially during the night. I heard several of the sailors observe afterwards that they "did not like that at all," and I am sure they would have infinitely preferred to have been met with firearms. Some of these spears were sixteen feet long, with an iron head, sharp at both sides, weighing from twelve to fourteen pounds. I have seen bows and arrows in the possession of the Burmahs, but never have observed that they used them in their conflicts with us. They appeared to despise them. The system of warfare and defence pursued by these people is undoubtedly excellent for the peculiarities of the country. Their stockades are usually built of any thick teak timber, or rather squared trees, which are much too strong to be penetrated by any other than battering cannon, and, in con- sequence, were invariably carried by escalade. Some of them are built of bamboos running from a foot to two feet in diameter. These are equally strong, with the peculiarity that if you fire cannon at them the bamboos yield, admit the shot, and then close again. If these stockades are not close to the river side, they usually have a deep ditch round them, and are further protected by what was more serious to us than the escalading, which were abbatis of pointed bamboos stuck in a slanting direction in the ground. The slight wounds made by these bamboos brought on lock-jaw, and too often terminated fatally. In the attacks upon us at Rangoon they made their approaches with some degree of military skill, throwing up trenches as they advanced. Their fire-rafts on such a rapid river were also formidable. They have wells of petroleum up the country ; their rafts were very large, and on them, here and there, were placed old canoes filled with this inflammable matter. When on fire, it blazed as high as our maintop, throwing out flames, heat, and stink quite enough to drive any one away. I have mentioned their mode of warfare and their de- ficiencies, to prove that if the Burmahs had been as well 102 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT provided with every species of arms equal to our own, the country would not have been so soon subjugated as it was. Their system of defence was good, their bravery was un- doubted, but they had no effective weapons. I strongly suspect that they will, now that they have been taught their inferiority, use every means to obtain them ; and if so, they will really become a formidable nation. As one proof of their courage, I will mention that at every stockade there is a look-out man, perched on a sort of pole, about ten feet or more clear of the upper part of the stockade, in a situation completely exposed. I have often observed these men, and it was not till the cannonade had fairly commenced on both sides, that they came down, and when they did, it was with- out hurry ; indeed, I may say, in a most leisurely and in- different manner. Of their invulnerables and their antics I have already spoken. In countries governed despotically, life is not so much valued as it is in others. The very knowledge that it may be taken in a moment at the will of the rulers, renders even the cowardly comparatively indifferent. Having been accustomed from our earliest years to anticipate an event, when it actually arrives we meet it with composure and indifference. The lad in England who is brought up to thieving, and who is continually reminded by his parents that he must be hung before he is twenty, goes to the gallows when his turn comes with much sang Jroid. So it is in a despotic country, where the people witness the heads of their companions roll on the ground, and surmise how soon their own turn will come. I had more than one evidence of this during my stay. In one instance I wished to obtain information from a prisoner, but could extract none. He had been sitting between the cai'ronades on deck for twenty- four hours, and some of the men or officers had given him a bowl of grog and a couple of cigars, with which he was busy when I interrogated him. As he professetl ignorance, I told him that if he would not give me the desired informa- tion, I should take his head off; and I sent tor the sergeant of marines, who appeared with two of his party, and with his drawn sword. We called him out from between the guns, but he begged through the interpreter to be allowed to finish his grog, to which I consented : when that was 103 OLLA PODRIDA done, he was again ordered out, but requested leave to finish about an inch of cigar which remained in his mouth. To which I also acceded, not being in a particular hurry to do that which I never intended to do. During all this the man was perfectly composed, and did not show the least alarm at his approaching fate. As soon as the cigar was finished, he bound his long hair up afresh, and made preparation. I again asked him if he would tell, but he pleaded ignorance, and stepped forward, went down on his knees and took oif the cloth from about his loins, which he spread on the deck to receive his head, and then, putting his hands on the deck, held it in the position to be cut off. Not a muscle trembled, for I watched the man carefully. He was, of course, re- manded, and the sailors were so pleased with him that he went on shore with more grog and more tobacco than he had probably ever seen in his life. The Burmahs have, however, a means of extracting in- formation from spies, &c., which I never saw practised by them, although it was borrowed from them by us. It was in our own quartermaster-general's office that I witnessed this species of torture, so simple in its operation, and appar- ently so dreadful in its effects. It consists in giving one single blow upon the region of the heart, so as to stop for some seconds the whole circulation. The way by which this is effected is as follows : the man the Burmahs are generally naked to the waist is made to sit down on the floor; another man stands behind him, and leaning over him, takes a very exact aim with his sharp bent elbow at the precise spot over his heart, and then strikes a blow which, from its being propelled so very mechanically, descends with increased force. The effect appears dreadful ; the dark hue of the sufferer's face turns to a deadly white, the perspiration bursts out from his forehead, and he trembles in every limb. I never witnessed such apparent agony. These blows, repeated three or four times, will unman the most resolute, and they will call for death as a favour. There is one point which must not be overlooked by the Indian Government, and which, connected with what I have already mentioned, makes the Burmese nation more formid- able ; it is, the great contempt they have for the sepoys, 104 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT And what is equally true, the fears which the sepoys have of them. The Burmahs are only afraid of the white faces, as I shall very soon establish. They despise the sepoys, although they are so well armed. Now, that the sepoys are good troops, there can be no doubt ; they have proved it often ; but, at the baine time, they are not, as some of the Indian officers have asserted in my presence, the best troops in the world, and preferable to Europeans. That they are much easier to control, and that they excel in discipline, I grant, because they are never intoxicated ; but they have, in the first place, very little stamina, and are, generally speaking, a small and very effeminately built race. Still they have fought well very well ; but they never fought well against the Burmahs ; and for this simple reason, that superstition is more powerful than courage, and subdues it. The sepoys are very superstitious, and had the idea, which was never eradicated, that the Burmahs were charmed men, and they never went out against them willingly, even when they were headed by the English troops. As for the Burmahs' contempt of them, it was notorious. I have myself seen one of the Burmah prisoners at Rangoon lift up a piece of timber that six of the sepoys could hardly have moved, and throw it down, so as to make it roll at the feet of the sepoy guard who watched him, making them all retreat several paces, and then laugh at them in derision. But we had many more decisive proofs. The Burmahs had stockaded themselves about seven miles from Rangoon, and it was determined to dislodge them. Colonel S , who was very partial to the native troops, was ordered on this service, and he requested particularly that he might have no troops but the sepoys. Sir A. Campbell did not much like to consent, but, as the stockades were not higher than breastworks, and the Burmahs not in very great force, he eventually yielded to the Colonel's arguments. Fifteen hundred sepoys were ordered out, and the Colonel went on his expedition. The Burmahs had good intelligence that there were no European troops, and when the sepoys arrived, they did not wait to be attacked, but attacked the sepoys, and put them completely to the rout. One half of the sepoys were said to be killed ; the others came back to Rangoon in parties of ten or twelve, and in the utmost OLLA PODRIDA consternation and confusion. Sir A. Campbell was, of course, much annoyed, and the next day a European force was despatched against the Burmahs. On their arrival they witnessed a dreadful and disgusting scene. A long avenue had been cut in the wood, and on each side of it were hung by the heels, at equal distances, shockingly mutilated, the naked bodies of the seven hundred and fifty sepoys killed. The Burmahs did not, however, attempt to resist the Euro- pean force, but after a few shots made their retreat. Now, this is a very important fact : and it is a fact which cannot be denied, although it has not been made known. In India there is a nominal force of three hundred thousand men, but they are scattered over such a vast extent of territory, that, allowing they could be made disposable, which they could not, it would require many months before they could be collected, and if the Burmahs despise the sepoys, and the sepoys dread the Burmahs, the only check against the latter will be the European troops ; and of them how many can be called out. Not ten thousand, at the very utmost ; and the difficulty of collecting them was well known at the commencement of the Burmah war. There certainly is a great difference between attacking others in their own territories, and defending ourselves ; but if the Burmahs could hold out against us, as they did, for nearly three years, without arras to cope with us, what might be the consequence if they were supplied with arms and officers by any other nation ? We have now a footing in the country, and it must be our object to prevent the ingress of any other, and to keep the Burmahs as quirt and as peaceable as we can. But our very intercourse will enlighten them by degrees, and we have more to dread from that quarter than from all the hordes of Russia or Ilunjeet Sing, and the whole disaffection of India. As I have more to say relative to the Burmahs, I will, in my next chapter, enter into a short narrative of the expedi- tion to Bassein. It was a bloodless one, although very im- portant in its results : and circumstances occurred in it which will throw much light upon the character of the nation. 106 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER XXVI _1T was not until many months after the war had been carried on that Sir Archibald Campbell found himself in a position to penetrate into the heart of the Burmah territory, and attempt the capital. He wanted almost everything, and, among the rest, reinforcements of men; for the rainy season had swept them off by thousands. At last, when determined to make the attempt, he did it with a most inadequate force ; so small that, had the Burmahs thought of even trenching up and barricading the roads at every half mile, he must have been compelled, without firing a shot, to have retreated. Fortunately, he had an accession of men-of-war, and his river detachment was stronger than he could have hoped for. I do not pretend to state the total force which was embarked on the river or that which proceeded by land, communicating with each other when circumstances permitted, as the major part of the provisions of the army were, I believe, carried up by water. The united river force was commanded by Brigadier Cotton, Captain Alexander, and Giptain Chads ; the land forces, of course, by Sir A. Campbell, who had excellent officers with him, but whose tactics were of no use in this warfare of morass, mud, and jungle. It will be proper to explain why it was considered necessary to detach a part of the forces to Bassein. The Rangoon river joins the Irrawaddy on the left, about one hundred and seventy miles from its flowing into the ocean. On the right of the Irrawaddy is the river of Bassein, the mouth of it about one hundred and fifty miles from that of the Irrawaddy, and running up the country in an angle towards it until it joins it about four hundred miles up in the interior. The two rivers thus enclose a large delta of land, which is the most fertile and best peopled of the Burmah provinces, and it was from this delta that Bundoola, the Burmah general, received all his supplies of men. Bundoola was in the strong fortress of Donabue, on the Bassein side of the river, about half way between where the Rangoon river joined it on the left, and the Bassein river communicated with it a 107 OLLA PODRIDA long way farther up on the right. Sir A. Campbell's land forces were on the left of the river, so that Bumloola's communication with the Bassein territory was quite open ; and as the river forces had to attack Donahue on their way up, the force sent to Bassein was to take him in the rear and cut off his supplies. This was a most judicious plan of the General's, as will he proved in the sequel. Major S , with four or five hundred men in three tran- sports, the Lame, and the Mercury, Hon. Company's brig, were ordered upon this expedition, which sailed at the same time that the army hegan to march and the boats to ascend the river. On the arrival at the mouth of the river we found the entrance most formidable in appearance, there being a dozen or more stockades of great extent ; but there were but two manned, the guns of the others, as well as the men, having been forwarded to Donabue, the Burmahs not imagining, as we had so long left that part of their territory unmolested, that we should have attempted it. Our passage was there- fore easy ; after a few broadsides, we landed and spiked the guns, and then, with a fair wind, ran about seventy miles up one of the most picturesque and finest rivers I was ever in. Occasionally the right lines of stockades presented them- selves, but we found nobody in them, and passed by them in peace. But the river now became more intricate, and the pilots, as usual, knew nothing about it. It was, however, of little consequence ; the river was deep even at its banks, over which the forest trees threw their boughs in wild luxuriance. The wind was now down the river, and we were two or three days before we arrived at Bassein, during which we tidied and warped how we could, while Major S grumbled, If the reader wishes to know why Major S grumbled, I will tell him because there was no fighting. He grumbled when we passed the stockades at the entrance of the river because they were not manned ; and he grumbled at every dismantled stockade that we passed. But there was no pleasing S ; if he was in hard action and not wounded, he grumbled ; if he received a slight wound, he grumbled because it was not a severe one ; if a severe one, he grumbled because he was not able to fight the next day. He h.id been nearly cut to pieces in 108 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT many actions, but he was not content. Like the man tinder punishment, the drummer might strike high or strike low, there was no pleasing S * nothing but the amp de grace, if he be now alive, will satisfy him. But notwith- standing this mania for being carved, he was an excellent and judicious officer. I have been told he is since dead ; if so, his Majesty has lost one of the most devoted raid cbivalric officers in his service, to whom might most justly be applied the words of Hotspur, "But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive." l As I before observed, the branches of the trees hung over the sides of the river, and a circumstance occurred which was a source of great amusement. We had a little monkey, who had been some time on board, and was a favourite, as usual, of the ship's company. The baffling winds very often threw us against the banks of the river, near which there was plenty of water ; and when this was the case, the boughs of the trees were interlaced with the rigging of the ship. This unusual embracing between nature and art gave Jacko the idea of old times, when he frolicked in the woods, and unable to resist the force of early associations, he stepped from the top-sail yard to the branch of a large tree, and when the ship had hauled off clear, we found that Jacko had deserted. We lamented it, and ten minutes afterwards, thinking no more about him, we continued our course up the river. About an hour had elapsed, during which we had gained upwards of a mile, when again nearing the bank on that side, we heard a loud chattering and screaming. "That's Jacko, sir," said one of the men, and others ex- pressed the same opinion. W 7 e manned the jolly-boat, and sent it on shore towards the place where the noise* was heard. The monkey did not wait till the bow of the boat touched the shore, but springing into it when some feet off, he took his seat very deliberately on the stern, and was pulled on board, where immediately he flew up the side, caressing every one he met. The fact was, that Jacko had found several of his own race in the woods, but, like all wild animals, they immediately attacked one who had worn the 1 He is alive and well, and has since gained great distinction and honour. 109 OLLA PODRIDA chains of servitude, and Jacko had to fly for his life. We very often interlaced the rigging Avith the boughs after that, but the monkey remained quiet on the booms, and showed not the slightest wish to renew his rambles. I think it was on the third day that we arrived below the town of Naputah, which was defended by a very formidable stockade, commanding the whole reach of the river. The stockade was manned, and we expected that it would be defended, but as we did not fire, neither did they ; and we should have passed it quietly, had not S grumbled so much at his bad luck. The next day we arrived at Bassem, one of the principal towns in the Burman Empire. Here again the Major was disappointed, for it appeared that, on hearing of the arrival of the expedition at the entrance of the river, the people had divided into two parties, one for resistance, the other for submission. This difference of opinion had ended in their setting fire to the town and immense magazines of grain, dismantling the stockades, and the major pnrt of the inhabitants flying into the country. The consequence was, that we took possession of the smoking ruins without opposition. It was soon observed that the people were tired of th< protracted war, and of the desolation occasioned by it. They wanted to return to their wives and families, who were starving. But up to this time the chiefs had remained faithful to Bundoola, who had amassed stores and provisions at Bassein, intending to retreat upon it, should he be driven out of the fortress of Donahue ; and as long as he held that fortress, receiving from Bassein his supplies of men and of provisions. The Burmahs were so unwilling to fight any longer, that they were collected by armed bands, and made prisoners by the chiefs, who sent them up as required ; and many hundreds were in this way detained, enclosed in stockaded ground, and watched by armed men, in several towns along the river. An expedition was first despatched up the river, to its junction with the Irrawacldy, as there was a town there in which was the dockyard of the Burmahs, all their war boats and canoes of every description being built at that place. They ascended without difficulty, and, after a little skirmishing, took possession of the place, burnt all the boats built or building, and then returned to Bassein. 110 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT Of course, we had then nothing to do : Major S *3 orders were to join Sir A. Campbell, if he possibly could ; which, with much difficulty, he ultimately effected. We must now return to the Irrawaddy expedition, sent up at the same time that Sir A. Campbell marched by land and our ex- pedition went up the Bassein river. This force arrived at Donabue before we had gained Bassein. It found a most formidable fortress, or rather, three fortresses in one, mounting a great number of guns, and, as I before observed, held by Bundoola, the commander of the Burmah forces, in whom the Burm;ih troops placed the greatest confidence. I speak from hearsay and memory, but I believe I am correct when I state that there were not less than ten thousand men in Donabue, besides war elephants, &c. Now the river force did not amount in fighting men certainly to one thousand, and they were not in sufficient strength to attack a place of this description, upon which every pains had been taken for a long while to render it impregnable. The attack was however made, and the smaller stockade of the three carried ; but when they had possession of the smallest stockade they discovered they were at the mercy of the second, and in a sort of trap. The consequence was, defeat the only defeat experienced by the white troops during the whole war. The troops were re-embarked, and the boats were obliged to drop down the river clear of the fire of the fort. I believe two hundred and fifty English troops were left dead in the stockade, and the next day their bodies, crucified on rafts, were floated down among the English boats by the triumphant Bundoola. In the meantime a despatch had been sent to Sir A. Campbell, who was in advance on the banks of the river, stating that the force afloat was not able to cope with the fortress, the real strength of which no one had been aware of. The consequence was, that Sir A. Campbell retraced his steps, crossed the river, and attacked it in conjunction with the flotilla, Sir A. Campbell taking it in the rear. After some nard fighting, in which the elephants played their parts, the troops gained possession, and Bundoola having been killed by a shell, the Burmahs fled. Now it was very fortu- nate that the expedition had been sent to Bassein, for other- wise the Burmahs would have fallen back upon that place, 111 OLLA PODRIDA which held all their stores, and would thus have been able to continue in the rear of Sir A. Campbell, as he advanced up the river. But they had heard of the destruction and capture of Bassein, and consequently directed their flight up the river towards the capital. We were in possession of all these circumstances shortly after we had taken possession of Bassein ; and although the death of Bundoola and taking of Donabue had dispirited the Burmahs, yet there were many chiefs who still held out, and who, had they crossed with their troops to the Irrawaddy, would have interrupted the supplies coming up, and the wounded and sick who were sent down. We had, therefore, still the duty of breaking up these resources if possible. Having ascertained who the parties were, we sent a message to one of the weakest to say, that if he did not tender his submission, and come in to us, we should attack him, and burn the town to the ground. The chief thought it advisable to obey our summons, and sent word that he would come in on the ensuing day. He kept his promise : about noon, as we were sitting in the verandah of a large Sammy house (a sort of monastery) which we had taken possession of, we were informed that he had arrived. The token of submission on the part of the Burmahs is, presenting the other party with wax candles. If a poor man has a request to make, or favour to ask of a great man, he never makes it without laying a small wax candle at his feet. Neither do they approach the Rayhoon and Mayhoon without this mark of respect. Some time after this, one of the chiefs who had submitted took up his quarters at Bassein ; and his little daughter, about eight or nine years old, was very fond of coming to see me, as I generally made her little presents. She became very much attached to me, but she never appeared without a little wax candle, which she dropped at my feet before she threw herself into my lap. In the present instance, the chief first made his appear- ance, and having come within a few feet, sat down as a mark of respect. He was followed by six more, who each carried about two pounds of wax candles, tastefully arranged in a sort of filigree work of coloured papers. After these came about fifty men, carrying large baskets full of vegetables and fruit, which they poured out on the floor before us, and 112 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT then walked away and squatted at a distance. A few words of ceremony were then exchanged, and the friendship cemented over a bottle of brandy and some wine ; which, notwithstanding the use of spirituous liquors is against their religion, and forbidden by the government, they did not object to. Before he left I made him a present in return, and he went away delighted with the gift. Several more of the minor chiefs afterwards came in, and the same formalities were gone through ; but there were three of the most im- portant who would not make their appearance : one, the chief of Naputah, the town which we had passed, which did not fire at us from the stockades, and two others down at another large arm of the river, who had many men detained for the service of the army if required, and who were still at open defiance. All these three were gold chatta chiefs, that is, permitted to have a gold umbrella carried over their heads when they appeared in public. After waiting a certain time for these people to send in their submission, we sent word down to the chief of Naputah that we should visit him the next day, threatening him with the consequences of not complying with our request. Accordingly we weighed in the Larne, and dropped down the river till we were abreast of the town and stockade, which were about thirty miles distant from Bassein. Our broadside was ready ; but as we were about to fire, we perceived that boats were manning, and in about five minutes the chief of Naputah, in his own war-boat, accompanied by about twelve others, and a great many canoes, pulled off from the shore and came alongside. He made his sub- mission, with the usual accompaniments, and we were soon very good friends. We gave him a beautiful little brass gun, which ornamented our poop, and he went away very well pleased. We here had an opportunity of witnessing the dexterity with which they handle their boats. They really appeared to be alive, they darted through the water with such rapidity. Many of the Burmahs remained on board, examining every part of the vessel and her equip- ment ; and soon they were on the best of terms with the seamen and the few troops whom I had on board to assist us, for we were very short manned. We had gained in- telligence that there were some guns sunk in a creek, about U3 H OLLA PODRIDA three miles from Bassein, and we had despatched a boat to look for them, having the assurance of a chief who was at Bassein, that the people were peaceable and well disposed. By some mistake the boat went up the wrong creek, and pulled many miles into the country, without finding the spot pointed out by marks given. At night they were at the mercy of the Burmahs, who came to them to know what they required. The Burmahs told them that they had mis- taken the creek, but were very kind to them, giving them a good supper, and passing the night among them, playing their marionnettes. The next day they showed them their way, and when they came to the guns, the Burmahs dived, and made ropes fast, and brought them up for them, sending a message that they would come and see the Great Water-dog (meaning me) the next day. We remained two days at anchor, off the town of Naputah, waiting for this boat, as it was our intention to go down the river and attack the two other gold chatta chiefs, if they did not send in their submission. On the second day the Naputah chief came on board to ask us if we would attend a Nautch which he gave that evening in compliment to us ; but requested that we would not bring all our people, as it would frighten his own. Although it was not pleasant to trust ourselves on shore in the night, in the midst of so large a force, yet, anxious to make friends with him, we thought it advisable to accept the invitation in the manner he desired. I replied that " I would only bring on shore a few officers, and my usual attendants of six marines without arms." At eight o'clock some of the officers and I went on shore : it was quite dark, but we found the chief at the landing-place ready to receive us. The marines had their bayonets, and the officers had pistols concealed in case of treachery, and the first lieutenant kept a good look-out, with the broadside of the ship all ready at the first flash of a pistol, but these precautions were unnecessary ; the chief took me by the hand and led me up to his house, in front of which had been erected a sort of covered circus, brilliantly lighted up with oil in cocoa-nut shells, and round which were squatted several hundred Burmahs. He took us all to the raised verandah of the house, which was fitted up for the ceremony, where we found his wife and all hi m DIARY ON THE CONTINENT attendants, but not his daughter, who was said to be very handsome. As soon as we had taken our seats the Nautch commenced. About twenty men struck up a very barbarous kind of music, in which the bells and drums made the most noise. After a few minutes of discordant sound, the play began. The actors were in a sort of costume, and appeared quite at home in their parts. The story consisted in the attempts of a young prince to obtain the hand of a young princess ; and the dialogue was constantly interrupted by an actor who appeared to be a looker-on, but who made his remarks upon what passed, so as to excite bursts of laughter from the audience. He was the Jack Pudding, or wit of the piece, and several of his jokes were not very delicate. At all events, he was the Liston of the company, for he never spoke nor moved without creating a laugh. The play ended very curiously ; after the prince had gained the princess, they had a procession, in which they made an imitation of a ship, out of compliment to us ; and then built a little house on the stage with singular rapidity, to the door of which they conducted the youthful couple, closed it, and then the play was over. In the meantime pickled lea (which is a great compliment and excessively nasty) was handed round to us, and we all partook of it, taking it out with our fingers ; but we could not swallow it, so it re- mained like a quid of tobacco in our cheeks until we had an opportunity of getting rid of it. The purser had had the foresight to put a couple of bottles of wine, and one of brandy, in the pockets of the marines, which were now produced, while the band continued to play, and wrestling was introduced. We asked the chief to join us, but he refused ; he handed down a sort of picture, in which was represented the white elephant, pagodas, c., and told us that he was not only the war chief, but the head of the religion at Naputah, and that it would not be right that he should be seen by his people transgressing the laws, In the meantime his daughter, who did not come out to us, was very anxious to know what sort of people we were, and she sent for one to be brought in to her. My clerk was the favoured party. She examined him very closely, pulled his dress about, made him bare his legs to see how white they were, and then dismissed him. The clerk reported her as 115 OLLA PODRIDA very handsome, and quite as white as he was ; splendidly dressed ; and with an air of command, which showed that she was aware of her importance. We stayed about two hours longer, and then we rose to go away. The chief walked with us down to the boats, and we were not sorry to find ourselves on board again ; for the population was much more numerous than we had imagined, and had any treachery been attempted, we must have fallen a sacrifice. CHAPTER XXVII EXPEDITION TO BASSEiN (continued) May 1836. ALTHOUGH on friendly terms with the chief of Naputah, he was a person of such weight in that part of the country, that it was advisable, if possible, to identify him with us, so that he should never again fall off, and oppose us, in the contingency of a reverse, on the Irrawaddy. The next day we sent for him, informing him that it was to make him a present in return for his civility the day before. But before we handed the present to him, we stated our intention of dropping down the river to reduce the two gold chatta chiefs who still held out ; and that, as we did not exactly know where their towns were situated, we wished for some of his people to go with me. To this first proposition, after some hesitation, he consented. We then pointed out that our men were not accustomed to work in the sun, and were often ill ; that, as we were now friends, we wished him to allow me some of his boats to assist the ship in the river. To this also he consented. In fine, we brought forward our first proposition, which was, that he should supply us with six or eight war-boats, well manned, and that we would pay the men and officers at the same rate per day as we paid our own men ; stating the sum we would give, and that, if he Avas really sincere in his friendship and goodwill, we ex- pected not to be refused. Now, among the Burmahs who were with him there were many whose relations were de- tained to join the army ; a consultation ensued ; the chief was pressed by his own people, and at last gave his consent. 116 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT We then presented him with the piece of plate, upon which his eyes had constantly been turned, and he went away promising us that the men and boats should be alongside by daylight the next morning. This chief adhered to his promise, and we weighed anchor the next day, and made sail down with the war-boats, and three or four despatch-canoes, pulled by four or five men. These little canoes, when put to their speed, dashed through the water at such a rate that they threw off from each bow one continued little fan-shaped jet d'eau, which had a very beautiful appearance, the sunbeams fonning them into rain- bows. As for our Burmah force, they were at one time pulling against the vessel sailing ; at others, hanging on, and the people climbing about the rigging and ascending the masthead of the vessel ; but they soon all congregated to the stand of muskets, for that was the great object of attrac- tion. In the afternoon we had ball practice with the small arms ; and the Burmahs were, much to their delight, per- mitted to fire. It is surprising how exact they were in their aim, considering the little practice they must have had. Bad as all the muskets are which are served out to the ships of war, I really believe that there was not a Burmah who would not have laid down everything he possessed, except his life, to have obtained one. One of them, when he was permitted to take a musket, looked proudly round, and said, with a smile of joy, " Now I'm a man ! " The next day we arrived at the branch of the river where one of the chiefs held out. At daylight our own boats were manned, and with the Burmah boats ranged in line, made an imposing appearance, which was very necessary, for at that time we were so short-handed that we could not send away more than forty men a force so small that, had the Burmahs opposed to us seen it advance, they would probably have tried their strength with us. As it was. we pulled into the stockaded town in a line, the despatch-boats flying across us backwards and forwards like porpoises before the bows of a ship running down the trades : not that they had any messages to carry, but merely to show their own dexterity. When we had advanced to within a quarter of a mile, a boat came out and communicated with one of the despatch-boats, saying that the Burmahs would not fight if we did not attack 117 OLLA PODRIDA them, and that they would deliver up the men detained, and their chief as a prisoner. We agreed to these terms, landed, took possession of the chief with his gold chatta, corre- spondence with Bundoola, &c., and took him on board. On this occasion we would not trust the Burmahs employed with muskets it was too soon; they had only their own swords and spears. The chief was a fine tall man with a long beard. Like all Barmahs, he took his loss of liberty very composedly, sitting down between the guns with his attendants, and only expressing his indignation at the treachery of his own people. We were very anxious to know what had become of the guns of the dismantled stockade, which were said to be in his possession, but he positively denied it, saying that they had been despatched in boats across to the Irrawaddy. Whether this were true or not it was impossible to say ; but, at all events, it was necessary to make some further attempts to obtain them, so we told him that if he did not inform us where the guns were, by the next morning his head would be taken off his shoulders. At this pleasant intelligence he opened his betel-bag and renewed his quid. The next day he was summoned forth to account for the said guns, and again protested that they had been sent to Donabue, which I really believe was false, as they were not taken out of the stockade until after Donabue was in the possession of Sir A. Campbell ; it was therefore judged proper to appear to proceed to extremities, and this time it was done with more form. A file of marines was marched aft with their muskets, and the sergeant appeared with his drawn sword. Sand was strewed on the deck in front of the marines, and he was led there and ordered to kneel down, so that his head, if cut off, would fall where the sand was strewn. He was again asked if he would tell where the guns were concealed, and again stated that they were at Donabue ; upon which he was desired to prepare for death. He called one of his attendants, and gave him his silver betel-box, saying, " Take this to my wife when she sees it she will know all." I watched him very closely ; his countenance was composed, but, as he bent forward over the sand, the muscles of his arms and shoulders quivered. However, as it is not the custom to cut off people's heads 118 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT on the quarter-deck of his Majesty's ships, we very magnani- mously reprieved him, and he was afterwards sent a prisoner to Calcutta. But that he had the guns we discovered after- wards, which adds to his merit. Having succeeded in this attempt, we made sail for the stockade of the other chief, and arrived there that evening. As he was supposed to be greater in force than the other, we decided upon an attack in the dark, when he would not be able to distinguish of what our force was composed ; and this time we gave muskets to our Burmah comrades. The attack was successful, we obtained possession, and the chief fled, but our Burmahs pursued him nearly two miles, made him prisoner, and brought him aboard. As he imme- diately tendered his submission, which the other would not do, he was released the next day. We had done all our work, and having employed the Burmahs for a few days more in destroying the stockades at the entrance of the river, they were paid and dis- charged from his Majesty's service. They would not, how- ever, quit us ; but so long as we remained in the river they continued to hang on to the ship, and discovered three guns which had been sunk, which they weighed and brought on board. I have entered into this short narrative, as it will give some idea of the character of these people. The govern- ment is despotic, cruel, and treacherous, but the people are neither cruel nor treacherous ; on the contrary, I think they would make most excellent and faithful soldiers, and it is singular to find, surrounded by natives who have not the slightest energy of mind or body, a people so active, so laborious, and so enterprising as the Burmahs. The English seamen are particularly partial to them, and declared they were "the best set of chaps they had ever fallen in with." They admitted the Burmahs to their messes, and were sworn friends. I forgot to say, that when *he chiefs sent in their submissions, at first, among other presents, they sent slaves, usually females, which was rather awkward. But not wishing to affront them begged that the slaves sent might be children, and not grown up, as we had no accom- modation for them. The consequence was, that I had quite a young family when I left the river, which I distributed 119 OLLA PODRIDA at Rangoon and the presidencies on my return. For if they were only bond-slaves, which I suppose they were, it was a kindness to have them educated and taken care of. We lost one little fellow that was a great favourite with the men; he was about three years old, and could speak English. He had been christened by the sailors Billy Bamboo, and was quite as amusing as the monkey. The poor little fellow died very suddenly, and was much regretted by all on board. I certainly do think that we may eventually find the Burmahs to be the most powerful enemy that we shall have to contend with in India ; and, at the same time, I cannot help giving my opinion as to the ridiculous fear we entertain of the Russians ever interfering with us in that quarter. That the extension of the Russian empire has been a favourite object through many of her dynasties is true, but it is so no longer ; they have discovered that already their empire is too extensive, and hardly a year passes but they have out- breaks and insurrections to quell in quarters so remote that they are scarcely heard of here. That Russia might possibly lead an army through our Indian possessions, I admit ; but that she never could hold them if she did do so, is equally certain ; the conquest would be useless to her, after having been obtained at an enormous sacrifice. The fact is, the Russians (with the exception of the Emperor Paul) never had any intention of the kind,. and never will attempt it: but they have discovered how very alive we are to the possibility, and how very jealous and anxious we are on the subject, and it is possible that they have made demonstrations in that direction to alarm us; but I think, myself, that the great object of Russia in these advances has been to force a channel for trade, which in her present situation she is to the south of her extensive emp're nearly deprived of. Notwithstanding the outcry which has so often been raised against the Russian empire, it has always appeared to me that our natural ally is Russia ; as for an alliance with France, it is morally impossible that two rival nations like us can continue very long at peace ^ our interests are separate and conflicting, and our jealousy but sleeps for the moment. We have been at peace with France many years, and have not yet succeeded in making a satisfactory commercial treaty with ]20 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT her ; neither will any of the other continental powers permit our manufactures to enter, with the exception of Russia, who not only takes them, but returns to us what is most valuable for our marine. Why, then, this outcry against the ambition of Russia ? nothing but tirades against Russian ambition. Does France show no ambition ? Does America show no ambition ? Have we no ambition ourselves ? Why this constant suspicion and doubt against a power whose interest it is to be closely allied to us, and who can always prove a valuable aid in case oi emergency simply because Russia wishes to have an opening to the Black Sea. And this is very natural : her northern ports are closed nine months in the year, and therefore her navy and mercantile marine are almost useless. She has no outlet, no means of raising either. Does she, then, ask too much ? Is a great empire like Russia to be blocked up, her commerce and navy crippled, for the want of an outlet ? She does require the opening of the Black Sea ; it is all that she requires. She never will remain quiet until she obtains it, and obtain it sooner or later she certainly will ; and in my opinion she is perfectly justified in her attempts. What would be the consequence if she succeeded ? that, if we were wise enough to continue on terms of amity with Russia, who has invariably extended the hand of friendship to us, and has, I believe, never failed in her treaties, we should have a balance of power to us very important. Whose navies shall we in future have to contend against ?- those of France and America ; for it is certain that whenever we go to war with France America will back her, and their navies will be united. At present the navy of America is not very large, but it can soon be made so ; and we should not be sorry to have the navy of Russia on our side, to balance against the two which will always be opposed to us. It is, therefore, our interest to assist Russia in the object she has in view, and to keep up a firm alliance with her. It is the interest of France to excite jealousies between Russia and this country ; and her emissaries have been but too successful, at the very time that France has, contrary to all treaty, and exclaiming against Russian ambition, seized upon Algiers, and is now playing her game so as if possible to Command the whole of the Mediterranean. The very strides OLLA PODRIDA which France has made in that quarter should point out to us the propriety of opening the Black Sea for Russia, so as to restore the balance of power in that future site of con- tention. I repeat that we are blind in every way to our own interests in not uniting ourselves firmly by an alliance, offensive and defensive, with Russia, and that by so doing we should be the greatest gainers ; for with France we must never expect more than a hollow truce, concealing for the time her jealousy and thirst for revenge a truce during which her secret efforts to undermine us will be still carried on as indefatigably as ever, and which must only be con- sidered as a mere feint to recover her breath, before she again renews her frenzied efforts to humiliate England and obtain universal dominion. CHAPTER XXVIII LONDON, June 1837. J. O one who has visited foreign climes, how very substantial everything appears in England, from the child's plaything to the Duke of York's c.amn ! To use a joiner's phrase, everything abroad is comparatively scamp -work. Talk about the Palais Royale, the Rue Richelieu, and the splendour of the Parisian shops why, two hundred yards of Regent Street, commencing from Howell and James's, would buy the whole of them, and leave a balance sufficient to buy the remainder of the French expositions. But still, if more sub- stantial and massive, we are at the same time also heavy. We want more space, more air, more room to breathe, in London ; we are too closely packed ; we want gardens with trees to absorb the mephitic air, for what our lungs reject is suitable to vegetation. But we cannot have all we want in this world, so we must do without them. What wealth is now pouring into the country ! and, thank God, it is now somewhat better expended than it was in the bubble mania, which acted upon the plethora certainly, but bled us too freely and uselessly. The railroad speculators have taken off many millions, and the money is well em- ployed ; for even allowing that, in some instances, the ex- J22 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT pectations of the parties who speculate may be disappointed, still it is spent in the country ; and not only is it affording employment and sustenance to thousands, but the staple produce of England only is consumed. In these speculations in the millions required and immediately produced you can witness the superiority of England. Undertakings from which foreign governments would shrink with dismay are here effected by the meeting of a few individuals. And now for my commissions. What a list ! And the first item is two Canary birds, the last having been one fine morning found dead, nobody knows how ; there was plenty of seed and water (put in after the servant found that they had been starved by his neglect), which, of course, proved that they did not die for want of food. I hate what are called pets ; they are a great nuisance, for they will die, and then such a lamentation over them ! In the " Fire Wor- shippers " Moore makes his Hinda say " I never nursed a dear gazelle, To glad me with its soft black eye, But when it came to know me well And love me it was sure to die." Now Hinda was perfectly correct, except in thinking that she was peculiarly unfortunate. Every one who keeps pets might tell the same tale as Hinda. I recollect once a Canary bird died, and my young people were in a great tribulation ; so to amuse them we made them a paper coffin, put the defunct therein, and sewed on the lid, dug a grave in the garden, and dressing them out in any remnants of black we could find for weepers, made a procession to the grave where it was buried. This little divertissement quite took their fancy. The next day one of the youngest came up to me and said, " Oh, papa, when will you die ? " A strange question, thought I, quite forgetting the procession of the (lay before. "Why do you ask, my dear?"- "Oh, because it will be such fun burying you." " Much obliged to you, my love." There is much more intellect in birds than people suppose. An instance of that occurred the other day, at a slate quarry belonging to a friend, from whom I have the narrative, A 123 OLLA PODRIDA thrush, not aware of the expansive properties of gunpowder, thought proper to build her nest on a ridge of the quarry, in the very centre of which they were constantly blasting the rock. At first she was very much discomposed by the fragments flying in all directions, but still she would not quit her chosen locality ; she soon observed that a bell rang whenever a train was about to be fired, and that, at the notice, the workmen retired to safe positions. In a few days, when she heard the bell, she quitted her exposed situa- tion, and flew down to where the workmen sheltered them- selves, dropping close to their feet. There she would remain until the explosion had taken place, and then return to her nest. The workmen, observing this, narrated it to their employers, and it was also told to visitors who came to view the quarry. The visitors naturally expressed a wish to witness so curious a specimen of intellect ; but as the rock could not always be ready to be blasted when visitors came, the bell was rung instead, and for a few times answered the same purpose. The thrush flew down close to where they stood ; but she perceived that she was trifled with, and it interfered with her process of incubation : the consequence was, that afterwards, when the bell was rung, she would peep over the ledge to ascertain if the workmen did retreat, and if they did not she would remain where she was, propably saying to herself, "No, no, gentlemen ; I'm not to be roused off my eggs merely for your amusement." Some birds have a great deal of humour in them, particu- larly the raven. One that belonged to me was the most mischievous and amusing creature I ever met with. He would get into the flower-garden, go to the beds where the gardener had sowed a great variety of seeds, with sticks put in the ground with labels, and then he would amuse himself with pulling up every stick, and laying them in heaps of ten or twelve on the path. This used to irritate the old gardener very much, who would drive him away. The raven knew that he ought not to do it, or he would not have done it. He would soon return to his mischief, and when the gardener again chased him (the old man could not walk very fast), the raven would keep just clear of the rake or hoe in his hand, dancing back before him, and singing as 121- DIARY ON THE CONTINENT plain as a man could, " Tol de rol cle rol ; tol de rol de rol ! " with all kinds of mimicking gestures. The bird is alive now, and continues the same meritorious practice whenever he can find an opportunity. CHAPTER XXIX JUNE, Steam-boat Princess Victoria. IT certainly appears that the motion of a steam-vessel pro- duces more nausea than that of a sailing vessel ; and people appear to suffer in some degree in proportion to the power of the engines. This may be accounted for by the vibration of the vessel increasing in the same ratio. We are now in a vessel of two hundred and fifty horse- power, and the consequence is that the passengers are as sick as two hundred and fifty horses. The effect of the vibration of the after part of the vessel amounts to the ridiculous. When dinner was put on the table we had no occasion for a bell to announce it, for every glass on the table was dancing to its own jingling music. And when the covers were taken off, it was still more absurd everything in the dishes appeared to be infected with St. Vitus's dance. The boiled leg of mutton shook its collops of fat at a couple of fowls which figured in a sarabande round and round their own dish roast beef shifted about with a slow and stately movement a ham glissc'cd croisee from one side to the other tongues wagged that were never meant to \vag again bottles reeled and fell over like drunken men, and your piece of bread constantly ran away and was to be pulled back into its proper place. It was a regular jig-a-jig a country-dance of pousette, down the middle, and right and left. The communication of motion was strange ; the whole company, seated on long forms, were jig-a-jigging up and down together your knife jigged and your fork jigged even the morsel which was put into your mouth gave one more jump before it could be seized. However, we jigged it to some purpose ; for in eighteen hours and a half we passed from London to Antwerp. 125 OLLA PODRIDA The English are naturally great voyageitrs : the feeling is inherent from our insular position. I have been reflecting whether I can recollect, in my whole life, ever to have been three months in one place, but I cannot, nor do I believe that I ever was not even when sent to school ; for I used to run away every quarter, just to see how my family were an amiable weakness which even flogging could not eradicate. And then I was off to sea ; there I had my wish, as Shak- speare says, borne away by "the viewless winds, and blown With restless violence about the pendent world," north, south, east, and west; one month freezing, the next burning; all nations, all colours white, copper, brown, and black ; all scenery, from the blasted pine towering amidst the frost and snow, to the cocoa-nut waving its leaves to the sea-breeze. Well, " homekeeping youths have homely wits," says the same author ; and he has told more truth than any man who ever wrote. I certainly did hear of one young man who did not gain much by travelling ; he was a banker's clerk, and obtained three months' vacation to go on the Continent. He landed at Ostend, and the next day found himself in the track-shuyt that is towed by horses from Bruges to Ghent. The cabins were magnificent, velvet and gold ; the down cushions luxurious, the dinner and breakfast sumptuous, the wine excellent, the bedrooms comfortable, and the expense moderate. Moreover, the motion was imperceptible. What could a man wish more? He arrived at Ghent, and could not make his mind up to quit this barge, so he returned in her to Bruges, and then back again to Ghent ; and thus he continued between the two towns, backwards and forwards, until the three months' leave had expired, and he was obliged to return to the desk. I have never yet made up my mind whether this personage was a wise man or a fool. But until the opening of the Continent, the English were only voyageurs, not travellers ; and that, after having been so iong debarred, they should be desirous of visiting the various portions of Europe is not only natural but praise- worthy ; but that they should make the Continent their residence should expatriate themselves altogether, is to me a source of astonishment as well as of regret. The excuse offered is the cheapness. It is but an excuse, for I deny it to be the fact. I have visited most places, with 126 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT and without a family, and I will positively assert, not for the benefit of others who have already expatriated themselves, but as a check to those who feel so inclined, that they will discover too soon that, at less expense, they can command more good living and substantial comforts in England than in any part of the Continent they may fix upon as their habitation. Let us enter a little into the subject. First, as to the capitals, Paris, Brussels, &c. Let it first be remembered that we have no longer war prices in England, that almost every article has fallen from thirty-five to fifty per cent. It is true that some trades- people who are established as fashionable, keep up their prices ; but it is not absolutely necessary to employ them, as there are those equally skilled who are more moderate. But even the most fashionable have been obliged, to a certain degree, to lower their prices ; and their present prices, re- duced as they are, will most assuredly die with them. Everything will, by degrees, find its level ; but this level is not to be found at once. Should peace continue, ten years from this date will make a great alteration in every article, not only of necessity, but of luxury ; and then, after having been the dearest, England will become the cheapest resi- dence in the world. House rent in the capitals abroad is certainly as dear, if not dearer than it is in England. There are situations more or less fashionable in every metropolis ; and if you wish to reside in those quarters, you pay accordingly. It is true that, by taking a portion of a house, you to a certain degree indemnify yourself a first, second, or third storey, with a common staircase loaded with dirt and filth ; but is this equal to the comfort of a clean English house, in which you have your own servants, and are not overlooked by your neighbours ? If they were to let our houses in floors in England, as they do in Paris and elsewhere, a less sum woul be demanded. You may procure a handsome house in a fashionable quarter, well furnished, in London, for 300 per annum. Go to the Place Vendome, or those quarters styled the English quarters, at Paris, and which are by no means the most fashionable quarters, and you will pay for a handsome front floor 700 francs per month ; so that for one floor of a 127 OLLA PODRIDA house in Paris you will pay 336 per annum, when in London you will obtain the whole house for 300. The proprietor of the Paris house, therefore, receives much more by letting his floors separate than the English do. The common articles of necessity are as dear, if not dearer abroad ; the octroi duty upon all that enters the barriers raising the price excessively. Meat at Paris or Brussels is as dear as in London, and not so good ; it is as dear because they charge you the same price all round, about 5d. per pound, independent of its inferiority and the villainous manner in which it is cut up. Our butchers only butcher the animal, but foreign butchers butcher the meat. Poultry is as dear; game much dearer; and so is fish. Indeed, fish is not only dear, but scarce and bad. Horses and carriages are quite as dear abroad, in the capitals, as in London. Clothes are in some respects cheaper, in others dearer, especially articles of English manufacture, which are more sought after than any others. Amusements are said to be cheaper ; but, admitting that, the places of amusement are oftener resorted to, and in consequence as much money is spent abroad as in England. It is true that there are an immense number of theatres in Paris, and that most of them are very reasonable in their charges for admission ; but be it recollected that there are not above three of them which are considered fashionable, if even respectable ; and there the prices are sufficiently high. If people went to Sadler's Wells, the Coburg, Victoria, Queen's Theatre, Astley's, and other minor theatres in London, as they do to the Theatre St. Martin, Gymnase, and Varietes at Paris, they would find no great difference in the prices. What, then, is there cheaper ? Wine. I grant it ; and, it is also asserted, the education of children. We will pass over these two last points for the present, and examine whether living is cheaper on the Continent, provided you do not live in any of the capitals. That at Tours and other places in the south of France, at Genoa, at Bruges,. in Belgium, you may live much cheaper than in London, I grant ; but if any one means to assert that you can live cheaper than in the country in England, I deny it altogether. People go abroad and select the 128 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT cheapest parts of the Continent to live in. If they were to do the same in England, they would find that they could live much cheaper and much better ; for instance, in Devon- shire, Cornwall, and Wales, and, indeed, in almost every county in England. The fact is, it is not the cheapness of the living which induces so many people to reside abroad. There are many reasons ; and as I wish to be charitable, I will put forward the most favourable ones. In England we are money-making people, and we have the aristocracy of wealth as well as the aristocracy of rank. It has long been the custom for many people to live beyond their incomes, and to keep up an appearance which their means have not warranted. Many, especially the landed proprietors, finding their rentals reduced from various causes, have been necessitated to retrench. They were too proud to put down their carriages and establishments before the eyes of those who had perhaps looked upon them with envy, and whose derision or exultation they anticipated. They therefore have retired to the Continent, where a carriage is not necessary to prove that you are a gentleman. Should those return who have emigrated for the above reasons, they would find that this striving for show is hardly perceptible now in England. Those who have remained have either had sense enough, or have been forced by cir- cumstances to reduce their expenditure. Another cause is the easy introduction into what is called good society abroad on the Continent, but which is in reality very bad society. Certainly, there are a sufficient number of Counts, Viscounts, and Marquesses to associate with ; but in France high birth is not proved by titles, which are of little or no value, and do not even establish gentility. This society may certainly be entered into at a much less expense than that of England, especially in the metropolis ; but depend upon it, there is a species of society dear at any price. With respect to education of children, that boys may receive advantage from a Continental education I admit ; but woe be to the mother who entrusts her daughter to the ruin of a French Pension. In England there are many excellent schools in the 129 i OLLA PODRIDA country, as cheap and cheaper than on the Continent ; but the schoolmasters near London, generally speaking, are ruining themselves by their adherence to the old system, and their extravagant terms. The system of education on the Continent is certainly superior to that of England, and the attention to the pupils is greater ; of course, there are bad schools abroad as well as in England ; but the balance is much in favour of those on the Continent, with the advan- tage of being at nearly one-half the expense. A great alteration has taken place in modern education ; the living languages and mathematics have been found to be preferable to the classics and other instruction still adhered to in the English schools. I have always considered, and have every reason to be confirmed in my opinion, that the foundation of all education is mathematics. Everything else may be obtained by rote, and without thinking ; but from the elements of arithmetic up to Euclid and algebra, no boy can work his task without thinking. I never yet knew a man who was a good mathe- matician who was not well-informed upon almost every point ; and the reason is clear mathematics have prepared his mind to receive and retain. In all foreign schools this important branch of education is more attended to than it is in England ; and that alone would be a sufficient reason for me to give them the preference. In point of morals, I consider the schools of both countries much upon a par ; although, from the system abroad of never debasing a child by corporal punishment, I give the foreign schools the preference even in that point. I consider, then, that boys are better educated abroad than in England, and acquire much more correctly the living languages, which are of more use to them than the classics. So much I can say in favour of the Continent ; but in every other respect I consider the advantage in favour of England. Young women who have been brought up abroad I consider, generally speaking, as unfitted for English wives ; and that in this opinion I am not singular, I know well from conver- sation with young men at the clubs and elsewhere. Mothers who have returned with their daughters full of French fashions and ideas, and who imagine that they will inevitably succeed in making good matches, would be a little mortified 130 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT and surprised to hear the young men, when canvassing among themselves the merits of the other sex, declare that " such a young lady may be very handsome and very clever, but she has received a Continental education, and that won't do for them." Many mothers imagine, because their daughters are bold and free in their manners, and talk and laugh loud, are surrounded by young men, while the modest girl, who holds aloof, is apparently neglected, that their daughters are more admired ; but this is a great mistake. Men like that boldness, that coquetry, that dash, if I may use the term, because it amuses for the time being ; but although they may pay attention to Avomen on that account, marrying them is quite another affair. No : the modest, retiring girl, who is apparently passed by, becomes the wife ; the others are flattered before their faces, and laughed at behind their backs. It certainly is unmanly on the part of our sex to behave in this manner, to encourage young women in their follies, and ruin them for their own amusement ; as Shakspeare says " Shame to him whose cruel striking Kills for faults of his own liking." But so it is, and so it will be as long as the world lasts, and mankind is no better than it is at present. If then, as I have asserted, there is so little to be gained by leaving a comfortable home, what is the inducement which takes so many people abroad to settle there ? I am afraid that the true reason has been given by the author whom, I now quote. Speaking of the French metropolis, he says "I have been lately trying to investigate the nature of the charm which renders Paris so favourite a sojourn of the English. " In point of gaiety (for gaiety read dissipation) it affords nothing comparable with that of London. A few minis- terial fetes every winter may, perhaps, exceed in brilliancy the balls given in our common routine of things; but for one entertainment in Paris at least thirty take place chez nous. Society is established with us on a wider and more splendid scale. The weekly soirees, on the other hand, which properly represent the society of this place, are 131 OLLA PODRIDA dull, meagre, and formal to the last degree of formality. There is no brilliant point of reunion as at Almack's, no theatre uniting, like our Italian opera, the charm of the best company, the best music, and the best dancing. Of the thousand and one theatres boasted of by the Parisians, only three are of a nature to be frequented by people of consideration, the remainder being as much out of the ques- tion as the Pavilion or the Garrick. Dinner parties there are none ; water parties none ; dejeuners, unless given by a foreign ambassadress, none. A thousand accessories to London amusements are here wanting. In the month of May, I am told, the public gardens and the Bois de Boulogne become enchanting. But what is not charming in the month of May ? Paris, perhaps, least of all places ; for at the com- mencement of the month every French family of note quits the metropolis for its country seat, or for sea or mineral bathing. Foreigners and the mercantile and ministerial classes alone remain. What, then, I would fain discover, constitutes the peculiar merit of inducing persons uninsti- gated by motives of economy to fix themselves in the comfort- less ami filthy city, and call it Paradise ? Alas ! my solution of the problem is far from honourable to the tastes of our absentees. In Paris people are far less amenable than in London to the tribunal of public opinion ; or, as a lady once very candidly said to me, 'One gets rid of one's friends and relations.' " Indeed, there are so many petty annoyances and vexations of life attendant upon residents abroad that it must require some strong motive to induce them to remain. Wherever the English settle they raise the price of everything, much to the annoyance of the rentiers and respectable people of the place, although of advantage to the country generally. The really high-bred and aristocratic people will not associate with the English, and look upon them with any feeling but goodwill. With regard to servants, they are invariably badly served, although they pay two -or three times the wages that are paid by the inhabitants, who, in most places, have made it a rule never to take a domestic that has once lived in an English family; the consequence is, that those engaged by the English are of the worst description, a sort of pariahs among the community, who extort and cheat their employers without mercy. If not permitted so to do, they 132, DIARY ON THE CONTINENT leave them at a minute's warning ; and you cannot go to any foreign colony of English people without listening to very justified tirades of the villainy of the servants. Upon the same principle, there are few places abroad where the tradespeople have not two prices ; one for the English, and the other for the inhabitants. I was in company with an English lady of title, who gave me a very amusing instance of the insolence of the Belgian servants. She had a large family to bring up oh a limited income, and had taken up her abode at Brussels. It should be observed that the Belgians treat their servants like dogs, and yet it is only with the Belgians that they will behave well. This lady, finding her expenses very much exceeding her means, so soon as she had been some time in the countrv, attempted a reformation. Inquiring of some Belgian families with whom she was acquainted what were the just propor- tions allowed by them to their servants, she attempted by degrees to introduce the same system. The first article of wasteful expenditure was bread, and she put them upon an allowance. The morning after she was awoke with a loud hammering in the saloon below, the reason of which she could not comprehend ; but on going down to breakfast she found one of the long loaves made in the country nailed up with tenpenny nails over the mantelpiece. She sent to inquire who had done it, and one of the servants immediately replied that she had nailed it there that my lady might see that the bread did not go too fast. There is another point on which the English abroad have long complained, and with great justice, which is, that in every litigation or petty dispute which may appear before a smaller or more important tribunal, from the Juge de Paix to the Cour de Cassation, the verdict invariably is given against them. I never heard an instance to the con- trary, although there may have been some. In no case can an Englishman obtain justice ; the detention of his property without just cause, all that he considers as law and justice in his own country, is overruled : he is obliged to submit to the greatest insults, or consent to the greatest imposition. This is peculiarly observable at Paris and Brussels, and it is almost a jour de fete to a large portion of the inhabitants when they hear that an Englishman has 133 OLLA PODRIDA been thrown into prison. It must, however, be acknow- ledged that most of this arises not only from the wish of the rentiers or those who live upon their means (who have these means crippled by the concourse of English raising the price of every article), that the English should leave and return to their own country ; but also from the number of bad characters who, finding their position in society no longer tenable in England, hasten abroad, and by their conduct leave a most unfavourable impression of the English character, which, when Englishmen only travelled, stood high, but, now they reside to economise, is at its lowest ebb ; for the only charm which the English had in the eyes of needy foreigners was their lavishing their money as they passed through the country, enriching a portion of the community without increasing the prices of consumption to the whole. As a proof of the insolence to which the English are sub- jected, I will give the reader a verbatim copy of a letter sent to me by a friend not more than a year ago. I have heard of such a circumstance taking place in France, but then the innkeeper was a Chevalier of the Legion of Honour; but this case is even more remarkable. Depend upon it, those who travel will find many a Monsieur Disch before they are at the end of their journey. I will vouch for the veracity of every word in the letter : "WiSBADEN, July 3, 1836. " MY DEAR , As you kindly said that you would be glad to hear of our progress when any opportunity offered of writing you a letter, I now avail myself of some friends passing through Brussels to let you know that thus far we have proceeded in health and safety ; but whether we shall complete our project of wintering in Italy seems more and more doubtful, as I believe the cholera to be doing its work pretty actively in some of the states we propose to visit ; and a gentleman told me yesterday, who has lately left the country, that the Pope is so glad of an excuse to keep heretics out of his dominions that he has never taken off the quarantine : so that, under any circumstances, we must vegetate in some frontier hole for a fortnight before we can be admitted; a circumstance in itself sufficiently DIARY ON THE CONTINENT deterring, in my opinion. Besides which, what with the perplexity of the coinage, and the constant attempt at pillage which we have already met with, and which, I am told, is quadrupled on the other side of the Alps, such a counterbalance exists to any of the enjoyments of travelling that I am heartily weary of the continual skirmishing and warfare I am subjected to ; warfare indeed, as at Cologne I was called out. The story is too good to be lost, so I will tell it for your amusement and that of our friends at Brussels ; moreover, that you may caution every one against Mons. Disch, of the Cour Imperiale. We had marchandtcd with Madame Disch for rooms, who at last agreed to our terms ; but when the bill came, she charged her own. We remonstrated, and the bill was altered ; but Mons. Disch made his appearance before I could pay it, insisting on the larger sum, saying his wife had no business to make a bargain for him. I remonstrated in vain, and Mrs. commenced most eloquently to state the case : he was, however, deaf to reason, argument, eloquence, and beauty. At last I said, ' Do not waste words on the matter, I will pay the fellow and have done with him, taking care that neither I nor my friends will ever come to his house again/ at the same time snatching the bill from his hand : when he demanded, in a great fury, what I meant by that ; exclaiming, ' I am Germans gentlemans, you English gentle- mans, I challenge you I challenge you.' Although some- what wroth before this, I was so amused that I laughed in the rascal's face, which doubled his rage, and he reiterated his mortal defiance ; adding, ' I was in London last year ; they charge me twelve fourteen shillings for my dinner at coffee-house, but I too much gentlemans to ask them take off one larding. I challenge you I challenge you.' I then said, ' Hold your tongue, sir ; take your money and be off.' ' Me take money ! ' replied he ; ' me take money ! No, my servant take money ; I too much gentlemans to take money.' Upon which the waiter swept the cash off the table, handed it to his master, who immediately sacked it and walked off." I certainly have myself come to the conclusion that the idea of going abroad for ^conomy is most erroneous. As 135 OLLA PODRIDA I have before observed, the only article, except education, which is cheapec, is wine ; and I am afraid, considering the thirsty propensities of my countrymen, that is a very strong attraction with the nobler sex. If claret and all other French wines were admitted into England at a much lower duty, they would be almost as cheap in England as they are in foreign capitals ; and as the increased con- sumption would more than indemnify the government, it is to be lamented that it is not so arranged. Formerly we shut out the French wines, and admitted those of Portugal as our ancient ally ; but our ancient ally has shown any- thing but goodwill towards us lately, and we are at all events under no further obligation to support her interests. Let us admit French wines in bottles at a very low duty, and then England will be in every respect as cheap, and infinitely more comfortable as a residence than any part of the Continent. The absentees who are worth reclaiming will return ; those who prefer to remain on the Continent are much better there than if they were contaminating their countrymen with their presence. How true is the follow- ing observation from the author I before quoted on her return from abroad : " Home, home at last. How clean, how cheerful, how comfortable! I was shown at Marthieu the shabby, dirty- looking lodgings where the are economising, in penance for the pleasure of one little year spent in this charming house ! Poor people ! How they must long for England ! how they must miss the thousand trivial but essential con- veniences devised here for the civilisation of human life ! What an air of decency and respectfulness about the ser- vants ! what a feeling of homeishness in a house exclusively our own ! The modes of life may be easier on the Con- tinent, but it is the ease of a beggar's ragged coat which has served twenty masters, and is twitched off and on till it scarcely holds together, in comparison with the decent, close-fitting suit characteristic of a gentleman." 136 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER XXX BEUSSELS. AUTHORS, like doctors, are very apt to disagree. Reading, the other day, a very amusing publication, called the Diary of a Dfeennuyee, some passages in it induced me to fall back upon Henry Bulwer's work on France. Among his remarks upon literary influence in that country, he has the following : "A literary Frenchman, whom I met not long ago in Paris, said to me that a good-natured young English noble- man, whom I will not name, had told him that dancers and singers were perfectly well received in English society, but not men of letters. " Est-il possible qu'on soit si barbare chez vous ? " He subsequently adds "To be known as a writer is certainly to your prejudice. First, people presume you are not what they call a gentle- man, and the grandfather who, if you were a banker or a butcher, or any other calling or profession, would be left quiet in his tomb, is evoked against you." Mr. Bulwer then proceeds with a variety of argument to prove that literary men are not Mceccnased by either the government or aristocracy of Great Britain. He points out the advantages which the French literati have from their Institute, the ennoblements, the decorations and pensions which they receive, and certainly makes out a strong case. The author of the Diary would attempt to deny the statements of Mr. Bulwer, but in the very denial, she admits all his points but one to wit, that they are not so well received by the aristocracy in England as they are in France. She says " What does Henry Bulwer mean by the assertion that literary men are more eagerly welcomed in society here than in England ? "They occupy, perhaps, a more independent and honour- able position, are less exposed to being lionised by patronis- ing dowagers, and more sure of obtaining public preferment; 137 OLLA PODRIDA but, with the exception of Mignet and Merimee who are courted for their personal merits and official standing rather than for their literary distinctions I have scarcely met one of them. To the parties of the ministers of the Grand Referendaire, and other public functionaries, artists and men of letters are admitted as part of a political system ; but they are not to be found like Moore, Rogers, Chantrey, Newton, and others in the boudoirs of the Aite, or the select fetes of a Devonshire house. " The calling of ' un homme de lettres ' is here, however, a profession bearing its own rewards and profits, and forming an especial and independent class. In common with the artists, they look to ennoblement in the Academy, and under the existing order of things have been richly endowed with places and pensions." It appears, then, in France, that to the parties of ministers, &c., they are admitted as a part of the political system ; and further, that they have been fostered by the government, by being ennobled and richly endowed with places and pensions. Therefore, upon his opponent's own showing, Henry Bulwer has made out his case. In another part of the same work there is the following amusing passage, in advice given by a lady of fashion to her protegee upon entering into London society : " ' Pore over their books as much as you please, but do not so much as dip into the authors,' said she, when I proposed an introduction to one of the most popular authors of the day. 'These people expend their spirit on their works the part that walks through society is a mere lump of 'clay, like the refuse of the wine-press after the wine has been expressed. In conversing with a clever author, you some- times see a new idea brighten his eye or create a smile round his lip ; but for worlds he would not give it utterance. It belongs to his next work, and is instantly booked in the ledger of his daily thoughts, value 3s. 6d. The man's mind is his mine ; he can't afford to work it gratis, or give away the produce.' " If we are to draw any inference from this extract, it is that, although some noblemen do extend their patronage to literary men, at all events the general feeling is against them. I must say that I never was more amused than when 138 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT I read the above sarcasm. There is much truth in it, and yet it is not true. In future when I do say good things, as they call them, in company, I shall know the precise value of my expenditure during the dinner or evening party by reckoning up the three-and-sixpences. One thing is clear, that if an author say half-a-dozen good things, he fully pays for his dinner. In the "Student" Henry Bulwer makes some remarks which range in opposition to the author of the above Diary. In arguing that most authors may be known by their works, he says " Authors are the only men we really do know ; the rest of mankind die with only the surface of their character understood." It appears, then, that people have no excuse for being dis- appointed in authors ; when they meet them in company they have but to read their works, and if they like the works, they must like the authors. Before I proceed I must be permitted to make a remark here. An author's opinion given as his own will allow the public to have an insight into his character and feelings, and the public are justified in forming their opinions of an author upon such grounds. But it too often happens that the public will form their opinion of an author from opinions put by him into the mouths of the characters drawn in a work of fiction, forgetting that in. these instances it is not the author who speaks, but the individuals which his imagination has conjured up ; and that the opinions expressed by these creatures of his brain, although perfectly in keeping with the character, and necessary to produce that rraisemblance which is the great merit of fiction, may be entirely opposed to the real senti- ments of the author. The true merit of fiction, and that which is essential to its success, is the power of the author at the time that he is writing to divest- himself, as it were, of himself, and be for the time the essence of the character which he is delineating. It is, therefore, a great injustice to an author to accuse him of being an infidel because his infidel character is well portrayed, particularly as, if he is equally fortunate in describing a character vhich is perfect, the public do not ever give him the credit for similar perfection. That is quite another affair, 139 DLL A PODRIDA Again, Edward Bulwer says, in opposition to the poverty of the mine : " A man is, I suspect, but of a second-rate order whose genius is not immeasurably above his works, who does not feel within him an inexhaustible affluence of thoughts, feelings, and invention, which he never will have leisure to embody in print. He will die and leave only a thousandth part of his wealth to posterity, which is his heir." I like to bring all in juxtaposition. There is excitement in making mischief, and that is the reason why people are so fond of it. Still, the question at issue ought to be fairly decided, and as in case of arbitration, when the disputants cannot agree, a third party is called in by mutual consent, I shall venture to take upon myself that office, and will fairly argue the point, as there is more dependent upon it than, upon the first view, the question may appear to merit. If we turn back to the last century, in what position shall we find authors? looking up to patrons among the aristo- cracy, and dedicating their works to them in panegyrics, fulsome from their obsequiousness and flattery ? At that period the aristocracy and the people were much wider apart than they are at present. Gradually the people have advanced, and as they have advanced, so have the authors thrown off the trammels of servitude, and have attacked the vices and follies as well as the privileges of those to whom they once bowed the knee. The advancement of the people, and the lowering of the aristocracy, have both been effected through the medium of the press. The position of authors has been much altered. Formerly, we beheld such men as Dryden, Otway, and many others (giants in their days) humbling themselves for bread. Now we have seldom a dedication, and of those few we have the flattery is delicate. The authors look to the public as their patrons, and the aristocracy are considered but as a part and portion of it. These remarks equally hold good with respect to the government. Authors are not to be so easily purchased as formerly ; they prefer writing in con- formity with public opinion to writing for government, be- cause they are better remunerated. Now, if it be recalled to mind that, in the rapid march of the people, in their assertion of their right to a greater share in the government 140 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT of the country, in the pointing out and correcting of abuses, and in the breaking down of all the defences which have gradually yielded in so many yeai-s, it is the authors and the press who have led the van, and that in these continual inroads the aristocracy have been the party attacked, it is no wonder that there has arisen, unwittingly, perhaps, on the part of the aristocracy, a feeling against the press, and against authors in general. The press has been, and will probably for a long while continue to be, the enemy of the aristocracy; and it is hardly reasonable to expect that the aristocracy should admit the enemy within its camp. For, be it observed, whether a man write a political pamphlet or a novel, he has still the same opportunity of expressing his sentiments, of flattering the public by espousing their opinions; and as a writer of fiction, perhaps his opinions have more effect than as a pamphleteer. In the first instance you are prepared to expect a political partisan ; in the latter you read for amuse- ment, and unconsciously receive the bias. For one who reads a political pamphlet (by-the-bye, they are generally only read by those who are of the same way of thinking as the author) there are hundreds who read through a work of fiction, so that the opinions of the latter are much more widely disseminated. Now, as most works are written for profit as well as reputation, they are naturally so worded as to insure the goodwill of the majority, otherwise they would not have so extensive a sale. The majority being decidedly liberal, every work that now appears more or less attacks the higher orders. When, therefore, a gentleman who has been well received in the best society ventures upon writing a work, it is quite sufficient to state that he is an author (without his book being read) to occasion him to "lose caste," to a certain degree. Authors have been the enemies of the higher classes. You have become an author consequently you have ranked yourself with our enemies. Henry Bulwer, therefore, is right where he asserts that "to be known as an author is to your prejudice among the higher classes." Having made these observations to point out that the aristocracy and the press are at variance, let us now examine into the merits of authors, as mixing in society. And here, 141 OLLA PODRIDA I think, it will be proved that it is more their misfortune than their fault that there should be a prejudice against them. They are overrated before they are seen, and under- rated afterwards. You read the works of an author you are pleased with them, and you wish to become acquainted with the man. You anticipate great pleasure you expect from his lips, in impromptu, the same racy remarks, the same chain of reasoning, the same life and vigour, which have cost him so many hours of labour and reflection, or which have been elicited in his happiest moods, and this from a person who comes, perhaps, almost a total stranger into a large company. Is this fair or just to him ? Did you find any of your other friends, at first meeting, play the fiddle to a whole company of strangers ? Are not authors as reserved and shy as other people even more so ? And yet you ask them, as if they were mountebanks and jugglers with a certain set of tricks, to amuse the company. The very circumstance of being aware that this is expected of him makes the man silent, and his very anxiety to come up to your expectations takes away from his power. The consequence is that you are disappointed, and so are the company, to whom you have announced that " Mr. So-and-So " is to meet them. Had you become intimate with this person you would, perhaps, have found the differ- ence, and that he whom you pronounced as so great a failure would have turned out equally amusing. At the same time, there is some truth in the remark of the Desennuyfa that "some authors will not let out their new ideas because they require them for their books." But, as Bulwer observes, they must be but second-raters, as the majority of authors are. In many instances they are punsters ; but punning is not a standard of authorship ; or, perhaps, there may be other second-rate authors present, and, if so, they know that they are in the company of literary pickpockets. To prove that this remark of the Desennuyee can only apply to second-rate authors, let us examine into the con- versational powers of those who are first-rate. And here I can only speak of those whom I have known there may be many others. Where could you find such conversationists DIARY ON THE CONTINENT as Coleridge, Charles Lamb, Sir John Malcolm, and many others, who are now gone ? And among those in existence I have but to mention Croker, Theodore Hook, Professor Wilson, Bulwer, Lockhart, the Smiths, and, in the other sex, Lady Blessington, Lady Morgan, Mesdames Somerville, Austin, and Jameson. " Now, these are all first-rate authors in their various styles; and I can challenge any one to bring forward an equal number out of the whole mass who are so powerful or delightful in society. And there is still more to be said in favour of authors. I know many whose conversa- tion is superior to their writings ; I will not name them, as they, perhaps, would not consider this to be a compli- ment ; but it fully tends to disprove the remarks of the Dhcnnuyce as to authors of talent reserving their thoughts for their books ; for, on the contrary, when in company, they generally take the lead. Still, there is a difference arising from the variety of temperament : some, accustomed to mix constantly in society, will be indifferent whether they are acquainted with the parties present or not ; others, more retiring, require to feel at their ease, and it is only in small coteries, and among friends, that their real value can be appreciated. Theodore Hook is a proof of the former, the late Charles Lamb was of the latter. Some shine most when they have no competitors ; others are only to be brought out when other men of talent are in company, and, like the flint and steel, their sparks are only to be produced by collision. If I might be permitted to offer an opinion to the authors themselves, it would be, not to mix in general company, but confine themselves to their own friends. They would stand much higher in reputation if they adhered to this plan ; above all, let them avoid what the author of the Desennuyee terms those "Skinnerian lion fe^ds " given by those who have no talent to appreciate, and who, to fill their menagerie, will mix you up with foreign swindlers and home-bred ruffians. This is most humiliating, and has certainly injured the fraternity. I have but one more remark to make. Authors in England have little to expect from the government and the aristocracy. Pensions and honours have been given. 143 OLLA PODRIDA but until Sir Robert Peel set a more worthy example, they were bestowed for the support of political opinions, not as a reward of talent. That the aristocracy, with but a few exceptions, have not fostered talent, is most true ; and they are now suffering from their want of judgment. They have shut their doors to authors, and the authors have been gradually undermining their power. To what extent this may be carried, it is impossible to say; but one thing is certain, that the press is more powerful than either king or lords, and that, if the conflict continue, the latter must yield to the influence of the former, who will have ample retaliation for the neglect to which they have been subjected. What a superiority there is in England over France, and every other nation, in the periodical and daily press, especially in the latter ! Take up the Constitution ncl, or Journal des Dcbats, at Paris, and then look at the broad double sheets of the Times and other morning papers, with the columns of information and original matter which they contain. Compare the flimsy sheets, bad print- ing, and general paucity of information of the Continental daily press, with the clear types, rapid steam-power called into action, the outlay, enormous expenditure, and rapid information obtained by our leading journals from all quarters of the globe. I have looked with astonishment and admiration at the working of the Times newspaper by its beautiful steam-engine ; it is one of the most interest- ing sights that can be beheld. Nothing but the assistance of steam could, indeed, enable the great daily newspapers to accomplish their present task When the reader calls to mind that the debates in the House are sometimes kept up till two or three o'clock in the morning ; that the reporters, relieved every twenty minutes, have to carry all their communications to the office ; that all this matter has to be arranged, put in type, and then worked off; and that, notwithstanding this, the double sheet of matter is on thousands and thousands of tables by nine o'clock the next morning, it is really wonderful how it can be accomplished. Saturday night appears to be the only night on which those connected yrith these immense undertakings can be said to have any 14* DIARY ON THE CONTINENT repose from year's end to year's end. What a life of toil ! what an unnatural life must theirs be, who thus cater during the hours of darkness for the information and amusement of the mass who have slept soundly through the night, and rise to be instructed by the labour of their vigils ! It can be effected in no other country in the world. It is another link in the great chain of miracles, which proves the great- ness of England. The editors of these papers must have a most onerous task. It is not the writing of the leading article itself, but the obligation to write that article every day, whether inclined or not, in sickness or in health, in affliction, distress of mind, winter and summer, year after year, tied down to one task, remaining in one spot. It is something like the walking a thousand miles in a thousand hours. I have a fellow-feeling for them, for I know how a monthly period- ical will wear down one's existence. In itself it appears nothing the labour is not manifest : nor is it the labour it is the continual attention which it requires. Your life becomes, as it were, the magazine. One month is no sooner corrected and printed than on comes the other. It is the stone of Sisyphus an endless repetition of toil a con- stant weight upon the mind a continual wearing upon the intellect and spirits, demanding all the exertion of your faculties, at the same time that you are compelled to do the severest drudgery. To write for a magazine is very well, but to edit one is to condemn yourself to slavery. Magazine writing, as it is generally termed, is the most difficult of all writing, and but few succeed in it ; the reason of which is obvious it must always be what is termed " up to the mark." Any one who publishes a work in one, two, or three volumes, may be permitted to introduce a dull chapter or two ; uo one remarks it ; indeed, these dull, chapters allow the mind of the reader to relax for the time, and, strange to say, are sometimes favourable to the author. But in magazine writing these cannot be permitted ; the reader requires excitement, and whether the article be political or fictitious, there requires a condensation of matter, a -^ithiness of expression (to enable you to tell your story jn o small a space), which is very difficult to obtain. Even 145 K OLLA PODRIDA In continuations the same rule must be adhered to, for, being read month after month, each separate portion must be considered as a whole and independent of the other ; it must not, therefore, flag for one minute. A proof of this was given in that very remarkable production in Blackrvood's Magazine, styled " Tom Cringle's Log." Every separate portion was devoured by the public they waited impatiently for the first of the month, that they might read the continuation, and every one was delighted, even to its close, because the excitement was so powerful. Some time afterwards the work was published in two volumes, and then what was the consequence ? people complained that it was overcharged that it was too full of excitement gave no repose. This was true ; when collected together it had that fault a very good one, by-the-bye, as well as a very uncommon one ; but they did not perceive that until it was all published together. During the time that it came out in fragments they were delighted. Although, in this instance, the writing was overcharged, still it proved, from the popularity it obtained when it appeared in the magazine, what force and condensation of matter is required in writing for periodicals. CHAPTER XXXI 1 AM grave to-day ; it is the birthday of one of my chil- dren a day so joyful in youth, in more advanced life so teeming with thought and serious reflections. How happy the child is and it is its happiness which has made me grave. How changed are our feelings as we advance in life ! Our responsibility is increased with each fleeting year. In youth we live but for ourselves self predominates in every- thing. In mature age, if we have fulfilled the conditions of our tenure, we feel that we must live for our children. Fortunately, increase of years weans us from those selfish and frivolous expenses which youth requires, and we feel it little or no sacrifice to devote to our children the means which, before, we considered so important to the gratifica- tion of our pride and our ambition. Not that we have lost 146 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT either our pride or our ambition, but they have become centred in other objects dearer to us than ourselves in the race springing up to whom we shall leave our names and worldly possessions when our own career is closed. Worn out with the pursuit of vanity, we pause at a certain age, and come to the conclusion that in this life we require but little else than to eat, drink, prepare for a future existence, and to die. What a miserable being must an old bachelor be ! he vegetates, but he cannot be said to exist he passes his life in one long career of selfishness, and dies. Strange, that children, and the responsibility attached to their wel- fare, should do more to bring a man into the right path than any denunciations, from holy writ or holy men ! How many who might have been lost, have been, it is to be hoped, saved from the feeling that they must leave their children a good name, and must provide for their support and ad- vancement in life ! Yes, and how many women, after a life so frivolous as to amount to wickedness, have, from their attachment to their offspring, settled down into the redeem^ ing position of careful, anxious, and serious-minded mothers ! Such reflections will rise upon a birthday, and many more of chequered hopes and fears. How long will these flowers, now blossoming so fairly, be permitted to remain with us ? Will they be mowed down before another birthday, or will they be permitted to live to pass through the ordeal of this life of temptation ? How will they combat ? Will they fall and disgrace their parents, or will they be a pride and blessing ? Will it please Heaven to allow them to be not too much tempted, not overcome by sickness, or that they shall be severely chastised ? Those germs of virtue now appearing, those tares now growing up with the corn will the fruit bring forth good seed ? will the latter be effectu- ally rooted up by precept and example i How much to encourage ! and how much to check ! Virtues in excess are turned to vice liberality becomes extravagance pru- dence, avarice courage, rashness love, weakness even religion may turn to fanaticism and superior intellect may, in its daring, mock the power which granted it. Alas, what a responsibility is here ? A man may enjoy or suffer when he lives for himself alone, but he is doubly blest or U7 OLLA PODRIDA doubly cursed when, in his second stage, he is visited through his children. What a blessing is our ignorance of the future! Fatal, indeed, to all happiness in this world would be a fore- knowledge of that which is to come. We have but to do our duty and hope for the best, acknowledging, however severe may be the dispensation, that whatever is, or is to be, is right. How strange, although we feel in the midst of life we are in death, that mortals should presume to reduce it to a nice calculation, and speculate upon it ! I can sell my life now to an annuity-office for twenty years' purchase or more, and they will share a dividend upon it. Well, if ever I do insure my life, I hope that by me they will lose money, for, like everybody else in this world, I have a great many things to do before I die. There was but one man I ever heard of, who could lie down and die, saying, "Now, Lord, let Thy servant depart in peace." I have no warning yet, no screw is loose in this complex mechanism ; and yet, this very day, a chimney-pot may fall on my head, and put an end to all my calculations. It is right that the precarious tenure of our existence should not be wholly forgotten, but certainly was never in- tended that it should be borne on the mind, for, if we had ever in our memory that we may die this very hour, what a check there would be to all energy, and enterprise, and in- dustry. Who would speculate with the anticipation of large returns upon some future day, if he did not calculate upon living to receive them ? We should all stop to say Cui bono ? If it were not that our hopes support us, not only support us in all reasonable, but even unreasonable calculations, the world would be at a standstill. No, no ! we have our duty to perform towards our God; but we are also enjoined to perform our duty towards our neighbour. The uncertainty of life is to be remembered as a check to our worldly passions, but not as a drag-chain to our worldly career. 148 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER XXXH En route, August 1837. J HERE is a great art in packing property, and in it our profession are fortunately adepts. A midshipman, for instance, contrives to put everything at the bottom of his chest. No very easy matter to pack up and arrange a carriageful of children, two birds, and a spaniel puppy in all, twelve living beings with all their appendages, down to the birds' and dog's tails. As for packing up a dog, that is impossible ; the best way is to pack it off. Canary birds travel very well in the carriage lamps, in the summer time, when they are not lighted ; and I mention this as a hint to those who travel with such indispensable appendages. Independent of their being out of the way, their appearance behind the glass is a source of great amusement to those who are standing by where you change horses. Stopped at St. Frond, and asked what was to be seen. Nothing here but churches and monks. One of the little girls, three years old, looked with avidity at the Virgin Mary, three feet high, in gold brocade. The old verger, observing this, led her nearer to it, ascribing her admiration probably to piety, when, to his horror, she screamed out, " Quel Jolie poupee ! " Solomon says, " Out of the mouths of babes shall ye be taught wisdom." The old man dropped her hand, and looked as if he would have lighted the fagots had she been bound to the stake, as she, in his opinion, deserved. The perseverance of Belgian beggars is most remarkable, and equally annoying. The best way is to take out your purse, and pretend to throw something over their heads ; they turn back to look for it ; and if you keep pointing farther off, you distance them. On the whole, I consider that it is much more advisable not to give to beggars than to relieve them. Begging is demoralising, and should be discountenanced in every country. If children are brought up to whine, cry, and humiliate themselves, as in Belgium, that feeling of pride and independence in early youth, which leads to industry in after life, is destroyed. And yet the aged and infirm would appear to be proper objects of charity. 149 OLLA PODRIDA In many cases, of course, they must be ; but to prove how you may be deceived, I will state a circumstance which occurred to me some years ago. I was driving up the road with a friend. He was one of the pleasantest and most honest men that nature ever moulded. His death was most extraordinary : of a nervous temperament, ill-health ended in aberration of intellect. At that time Lord Castlereagh had ended his life of over- excitement by suicide ; the details in the newspapers were read by him, and he fancied that he was Lord Castlereagh. Acting precisely by the accounts recorded in the news- papers, he went through the same forms, and actually divided his carotid artery, using his penknife, as had done the unfortunate peer. Peace be with him ! To proceed. I was driving in a gig, a distance of about forty miles from town, on the Northern Road, when at the bottom of a steep hill, we fell in with a group who were walking up it. It consisted of a venerable old man, with his grey locks falling down on his shoulders, dressed as a country- man, with a bundle on a stick over his shoulder ; with him were a young man and woman, both heavily burdened, and five children of different sizes. The appearance of the old man was really patriarchal, and there was a placidity in his countenance which gave a very favourable impression. For a short time they continued breasting the hill on the path- way : when about one-third up, the old man crossed the road to us, as our horse was walking up, and taking off his hat, said, "Gentlemen, if not too great a liberty, may I ask how far it is to ? " mentioning a town about twelve miles off. We told him, and he replied, "That's a long way for old legs like mine, and young legs of tired children." He then informed us that they had lost their employment in the country, and that, with his son and daughter and their children, he had gone to town to pro- cure work, but had been unsuccessful, and they were now on their return. " God's will be done ! " continued he, after his narrative, " and thankful shall we be to find ourselves at our cottage again, although twelve miles is a weary bit of road, and I have but a few halfpence left; but that will buy a bit of bread for the poor children, and we must do as we can. Good morning, and thank'ye kindly, gentlemen." 150 The Belgian Beggars. DIARY ON THE CONTINENT Now, there was no begging here, certainly, except by implication. The effect, however, of his narrative was to extract a crown out of our pockets, which was received with a shower of blessings on our heads. We drove off, observ- ing how difficult it was to know how to select real objects of charity, and flattering ourselves that alms in this instance were worthily bestowed. My readers will agree with me, I have no doubt. It so happened that, about ten days afterwards, I was driving on the Dover Road, in the same gig, and in company with the same gentleman, when we came to the bottom of Shooter's Hill. Who should we fall in with but the very same party, the venerable old man, the young people, and the children, trudging up the pathway. The same plan of proceeding was observed, for, although we recognised them immediately, it appeared that they did not recognise us. We allowed the old fellow to tell his tale, as before; it was just the same. He first took off his hat, and inquired the distance to ; and then entered into the same narrative, only changing the place of abode, and ending with his few halfpence to buy bread for the children. I let him finish, and then I did not, as before, give him a crown, but I gave him a cut across his face with the whip, which made him drop his bundle, put his hands up to it ; and we left him, stamping with pain in the middle of the road till we were out of sight. A young rogue I can easily pardon, but an old one, on the verge of the grave, is a proof of hardened villainy which admits of no extenuation. After giving him this cut direct, we never met again. To return to St. Frond. In the last church we visited we had a scene. A woman was in the confessional ; the priest, with a white handkerchief up to conceal his face, and prevent what he said being overheard, attracted the attention of the children, who demanded an explanation. Children ask so many questions. " Do you think she has been very wicked ? Will he forgive her?" Before I could offer my opinion upon this important subject, the woman gave a loud scream, and fell back from the confessional in a fit. The priest rose, the handkerchief no longer concealed his face., and he appeared to be burning with indignation. 151 OLLA PODRIDA She was carried out of the church, and the priest hastened up the aisle to the vestry. What had she done? At all events, something for which it appeared there was no absolution. Aix-la-Chapelle alas ! What did we care for the tomb of Charles the Great, and his extensive dominions, his splendour and power ? We had lost something to us of much more importance a carpet-bag ; not that the carpet-bag was of much value, for it was an old one, nor the articles which it contained, for they were neither new nor of much worth ; but we lost in that carpet-bag an invaluable quantity of comfort, for it contained a variety of little absolute neces- saries, the loss of which we could not replace until our arrival at Cologne, to which town all our trunks had been despatched. The children could not be brushed, for the brushes were in the carpet-bag ; they could not be combed, for the combs were in the carpet-bag ; they were put to bed without night-caps, for the night-caps were in the carpet-bag ; they were put to bed in their little chemises, reaching down to the fifth rib or thereabouts, for their night-clothes were in the carpet-bag : not only the children, but every one else suffered by this carpet- bag being absent without leave. My boots burst, and my others were in the carpet-bag ; my snuff-box was empty, and the canister was in the carpet-bag ; and the servants grumbled, for they had smuggled some of their things into the carpet-bag. It would appear that everything had been crammed into this unfortunate receptacle. Had we lost a jewel-case, or a purse full of money, it would have been a trifle compared to the misery occasioned by this jumble up of everyday con- veniences of little value, showing how much more comfort depends upon the necessaries than the luxuries of life. I may add, now that I read what I have written, that this carpet-bag increased in dimensions to a most extraordinary compass for several weeks afterwards. Everything that was missing was declared by the servants to have been in the carpet-bag, which, like the scapegoat of the Jews, wandered in the wilderness, bearing with it all the sins of all the nurses and every other domestic of the family. On our road, the landlord of an inn put the following 152 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT printed document into my hands, which I make public for the benefit of those who are sportsmen without being landholders : " Comfortable Inn. The proprietor of the Red House, at Burghiem, on the road from Aix-la-Chapelle to Cologne, pleasantly situated in the middle of the town, opposite the Post-Office and Post- House, has the honour of recommend- ing himself to travellers. The Galignani's Messenger and other newspapers are taken in. The English, German, and French languages spoken. Having excellent preserves of game in the neighbourhood, he is happy to inform travellers that he can provide them with good sports in wild boar, deer, and hare hunting, and wild duck and partridge shooting. Horses and carriages of all descriptions supplied for excursions in the neighbourhood. " A. J. HONS." Prussia. I fear that our political economists are running after a shadow, and that their reciprocity system will never be listened to. It is remarkable, that after subsidising this and other powers to break up the continental system established by Napoleon for the expulsion of English manu- factures and the consequent ruin of England, now that the world is at peace, these very powers who, by our exertions and our money, have been liberated from their thraldom, have themselves established the very system of exclusion which we were so anxious to prevent. A little reflection will prove that they are right. The Government of a country ought never, if possible, to allow that country to be dependent upon any other for such resources as it can obtain by its own industry. We ourselves acted upon this principle when we established the silk manufactories in Spitalfields ; and it is the duty of every Government to do the same. The indigenous productions of the soil may fairly be ad- mitted on a system of reciprocity and exchange, but not articles of manufacture of which the raw material is to be obtained by all. For instance, the lead and iron and tin of Great Britain, the wines of other countries, are all articles to be exchanged or paid for by those who have not mines 153 OLLA PODBIDA of those metals, or do not possess vineyards. Further than this reciprocity cannot go without being injurious to one, if not to both parties. Three of the carriage wheels defective ! Add this to the carpet-bag, and people will agree in the trite observation that misfortunes never come singly. This is not true ; they do come singly very often, and when they do, they are more annoying than if they come in heaps. You growl at a single mishap, but if you find that fortune is down upon you and attempts to overload you, you rise up against her with indignation, snap your fingers, and laugh at her. The last mishap brought consolation for all the others ; if we had not so fortunately found out the defects in the wheels, we might have broken our necks the next day, especially as some amateur took a fancy and helped himself to our sabot. 1 only wish he may be shod with it for the remainder of his days. It is cui'ious how the ignorant and simple always raise or depreciate others, whatever their rank may be, to their own levels, when they talk of them. I listened to one little girl telling a story to another, in which kings, queens, and prin- cesses were the actors. "'And so,' said the queen to the princess, ' what a very pretty doll that is of yours ! ' ' Yes, your majesty ; papa bought it for me at the bazaar, and gave 5s. 6d. for it/ " &c. This reminded me of the sailors telling stories on board of a man-of-war, who put very different language into the mouth of royalty. "'Well/ says the king, 'blow me tight if I'll stand this. You must buckle to as fast as you please, Mrs. Queen.' ' I'll see you hanged first, and your head shaved too/ answered her majesty in a rage," &c. &c. What queens may say in a rage it is impossible to assert ; but to the seamen this language ap- peared to be perfectly regal and quite correct. Some people form odd notions of gentility. A cabman took up a well-dressed female, who made use of expressions which rather startled him, and he observed to a friend of his, a hackney-coachman, that he had no idea that the higher classes used such language. " Pooh ! pooh ! " replied the coachman, " she warn't a lady." " I beg your pardon/' replied the cabman, " a real lady, hat and feathers ! " Cologne. This is a regular Golgotha the skulls of the DIARY ON THE CONTINENT Magi, par excellence, and then the skulls of St. Ursula and her 11 ,,000 virgins. I wonder where she collected so many! St. Ursula brought a great force into the field, at all events, and, I presume, commands the right wing of the whole army of martyrs. I went into the golden chamber, where there are some really pretty things. The old fellow handed us the articles one after another, but I observed that there were many things which I had seen when here before which were not presented to view, so I looked into the cabinet and found them. They were crystal vases, mounted with gold and precious stones. One had the thigh-bone of St. Sebastian ; another, part of the ulna of St. Lawrence ; and a third a bit of the petticoat of the Virgin Mary. I handed them out to the ladies, and asked him why he did not show us those as he used to do before. The old man smiled and turned the corners of his mouth down, as if to say, " It's all humbug ! " Relics are certainly at a discount, even among the Catholics. I question whether the Bridge of Boats at Cologne don't pay better than any other in the whole world, although by 110 means the handsomest ; the stream of passengers on it all day is as strong and as wide as the Rhine itself. As for Cologne, the best thing that could happen to it is to be burnt down. Narrow streets, badly ventilated, badly drained ; your nose is visited with a thousand varieties of smell as you pass along; and the eau-de-cologne in the gutters is very different in savour from that which you buy in the bottles. We had a pleasant passage from Cologne to Coblentz, and from thence to Mayence, because we had pleasant company. It is singular, but it is a fact, that you go on board a steamboat to avoid fatigue, and each night you are more tired than if you had travelled by land. You go to avoid dust and heat; the first is exchanged for blacks out of the funnel, and you are more dirty than if you had travelled twice the distance ; and the heat is about the same ; in these points you certainly gain nothing. The expense of these Rhine steamboats is very great. By a calculation I made to travel by post, five persons in a carriage, from Cologne to Strasbourg you will expend two hundred and odd francs less than by the steam conveyance. 155 OLLA PODRIDA In time you certainly lose by steam, as you are four days and a half going to Strasbourg, and by land carriage it is half the distance, being only forty-five posts. Neither do you save trouble ; for the steamboats being changed every evening, you have to take your luggage on shore, shift it from one to the other, and at the very time that you are least inclined to do anything, independent of an enormous expense, which you ought not to pay, but cannot well resist. Now, as you really gain nothing in the above points, it is at least to be supposed that you gain in the picturesque ; but this is not the case ; and I have no hesitation iii asserting that those who go up the Rhine are generally disappointed, although they do not like to say so. They expect too much. The vivid descriptions, the steel engrav- ings, have raised their anticipations too high ; and they find that the reality is not equal to the efforts of the pen and pencil. Several of the passengers acknowledged to me that they were disappointed; and I must confess that I hardly knew the Rhine again. When I travelled up the Rhine by land I thought it beautiful ; but in a steamboat it was tame. This was observed by others besides myself, who had ascended both by steam and by the road running close to the banks ; and the reason was simple. When you travel by land you have the whole breadth of the Rhine as a fore- ground to the scenery of the opposite bank, and this you lose by water ; and the bank you travel on is much more grand, from its towering above you, and also from the sharp angles and turns which so suddenly change the scenery. Abruptness greatly assists the picturesque : the Rhine loses half its beauty viewed from the steamboat. I have ascended it in both ways, and I should recommend all travellers to go up by land. The inconveniences in a steamboat are many. You arrive late and find the hotel crowded, and you are forced to rise very early (at Mayence at three o'clock in the morning), which, with a family, is no trifle. The only part of the Rhine worth seeing is from Cologne to Mayence ; below Cologne and above Mayence it is without interest ; and although between these two places the steamboats are well served, above Mayence 156 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT everything is very uncomfortable, and you are liable to every species of exaction. If I were to plan a tour up the Rhine for any friends, I should advise them not to go by the Rotterdam steamer; it is a long voyage and without interest, and with many in- conveniences ; but start in the steamer to Antwerp, go up to Brussels by the railroad ; from thence you will start for Cologne by the route of Namur and Liege, through Waterloo; and I rather expect that many will prefer the banks of the Meuse to the Rhine. I know nothing more beautiful than the road from Namur as far as Chaude Fontaine, although, compared to the Rhine, it is on a miniature scale. From Liege to Aix-la-Chapelle, and from thence to Cologne. Go up the Rhine by land as far as Mayence, and then you may do as you please. When you are coming back, descend by the steamboats; for then you go with the stream and with great rapidity, and arrive in good time at the towns where they stop. You will then have seen the Rhine by land and by water. At present the bubble is at its height ; but it will burst by-and-by. The English are lining the banks of the Rhine with gold, and receive insult and abuse in exchange. I have been much amused with a young countryman who has come up in the steamer with me. Not able to speak a word of French or German, he is pillaged every hour of the day ; but if he could speak, he has no idea of the value of his money. He pulls out his purse, and the waiters help themselves very plentifully, I may safely add. What he has come for it is difficult to say : not for the picturesque, for he slept the whole time between Cologne and Mayence that is, all the time that was not occupied by eating and drinking. His only object appears to be to try the Rhenish wines. He has tried all upon the Wein Prescn. He called for a bottle of the best ; they gave him one not on the carte, and charged him exactly one pound sterling for the bottle. He is a generous fellow ; he sits at the table with his bottle before him, and invites every man to par- take of it. And he found plenty on board who were willing to oblige him. " Capital wine, an't it ? " said he to a Frenchman who drank his wine, but did not understand a word of English. 157 OLLA PODRIDA " A votre sante, Monsieur/' replied the Frenchman, " I say, wliat wine do you call it ? " "C'est exquis, Monsieur," replied the Frenchman. "Exkey, is it? You waiter, bring us another bottle of exkcy." CHAPTER XXXIII 1 O continue. Should travellers think it advisable to pro- ceed upon the Rhine so far as Mayence, let them be careful how they venture to proceed farther I did so, out of curio- sity to know what the features of the Rhine were, after it had lost its character for magnificence ; and I will now detail my progress. At Mayence you are shifted into a smaller steamer, with less power, upon the principle that there being but a few passengers, their comforts do not require so much attention ; for, as the Rhine becomes more rapid as it narrows, upon any other principle the power of the engine should have been greater. I must caution the reader not to believe what is told him by the steam-packet company. Barbers were once considered liars, par excellence, but I am inclined to give the preference to these new associations. The features of the Rhine change immediately that you leave Mayence ; the banks are low, and the river is studded with numerous islands, all of which, as well as the greatest proportion of the banks, are covered with osiers. Still, there is a great beauty in the Rhine even there ; the waving of the osiers to the strong breeze, the rapidity of the current, the windings of the river, the picturesque spires of the village churches, or the change of scenery when the river pours through forests, lining each bank as the vessel slowly claws against the rapid stream, are by no means uninterest- ing. Of course, we did not arrive at Leopoldshaffen at the hour stated by the people at the office, but we did arrive late at night, and took up our quarters at a small auberge in the above village, which is not marked down in the maps, but which has post-horses and diligences to convey passengers to Carlsruhe. Notwithstanding the assertion at the packet- office that we were to be in one day to Leopoldshaffen, in DIARY ON THE CONTINENT one day more to Strasbourg, we found there was no steamer until the day after the morrow, and that we must wait one day more if we did not choose to go to Carlsruhe. The females, being fatigued, preferred remaining where they were. We sauntered about and amused ourselves quietly. The next day we found the steamer had arrived, and that instead of her ascending in one day to Strasbourg, it would take a day and a half, and that we must pass the night aboard without the least accommodation not very pleasant, with a carriageful of young children. We embarked on board the steamer, which was a miserably small vessel, with an engine of bad construction and very small power ; and with this we were to oppose the most rapid part of the Rhine. In every other point the vessel was equally ill- found : they had a very small stock of provisions, bad wine, and none of those comforts provided for the passengers in the other vessels. To crown all, another family witli children (of whom more hereafter) had taken their passage. The steward told us that, never expecting so many people on board going up to Strasbourg, he was totally unprepared ! and so it eventually appeared. We started, and soon found out that the power of the engines was quite disproportionate to the object in view. The Rhine now assumed a more desolate character. For miles and miles not a village or even a solitary town to be seen ; the Hartz Mountains forming a blue, opaque mass in the distance ; the stream rapidly passing through narrow and deep channels, leaving one half of the bed of the river dry. At times we passed very dangerous straits, where the waters boiled and eddied over reefs of rocks, and were often obliged to force our way by keeping within a foot of steep and muddy banks, where trees torn up, and hanging by the roots, proved how violent must be the current when the river is increased by the melting of the mountain snow. Our progress was, as it may be imagined, most tedious ; at no time did we advance above a mile and a half per hour ; sometimes we did not gain a hundred yards in the same time, and occasionally we were swept back by the current, and had to lose still more ground, while they increased the power of the engine at the risk of explosion. The conse- quence was, that when the day closed the conductor gave 159 OLLA PODRIDA his opinion that, instead of being at Strasbourg by eleven or twelve o'clock the next clay, we should not arrive till four or five o'clock : we anchored within a yard of the bank, and prepared to pass the night how we could. Our party consisted of seven, with two nurses. The other party consisted of four grown-up females, one male, four boys, an East African negro, and a cotvskin ; the latter was a very important personage, and made a great noise during the passage. The gentleman was apparently one of those who denominate themselves eclectic : he paid very little attention to what was going on ; a peaceable sort of man, whose very physiognomy said " anything for a quiet life : " one of the ladies was his wife, and two others, virgins of some standing, apparently his sisters ; the other lady, a bilious- looking sort of personage, and happy in being the mother of four very fine boys, as great pickles as ever lived ; these she kept in order with the assistance of the negro and the cowskin, the use of the latter occasioning such evident marks of astonishment and horror to our little ones, as not to be at all satisfactory to the lady in question, who appeared not averse, had she dared, to have given them a taste of it. The youngest and the youngest but one of the boys were the two sufferers ; the youngest had a regular dozen administered every half-hour. The two eldest were more particularly under the care of the negro, who used his fists, I presume, because they wore corduroys, and, as Hood says, did not care for " cut behind." We had not been in the vessel two minutes before there was a breeze. I heard the negro ex- postulating as follows : " You very foolish boy, what you mean ? who ever heard of putting new cloth cap into water to catch fish ?" This was the first offence. I must say that the coercion used did not appear to originate from any feeling of regard for the children, for they were allowed to climb, and push, and run over the skylights, and over the engine, and I every moment expected that some of them would be provided for either by the cog-wheels or the river Rhine. It was evident at once, not only from the above accessories, but from the Chinese trunks which contained their luggage, that they were an Indian importation, and their behaviour subsequently proved it, beyond all doubt, even if they had not made it known not by talking to us, but by talking at DIARY ON THE CONTINENT us, for they evidently did not consider that we were suffi- ciently respectable to be admitted into their society, even in the short intercourse of fellow-travellers. I cannot here help making an observation relative to most of the people who come from India. They are always dis- satisfied, and would gladly return. The reason is very ob- vious they at once lose their rank and consequence, and sink down to the level to which they are entitled in English society. In India the rank of the servants of the Company takes precedence ; but whatever their rank or emolument may be in India, they are still but servants of a company of merchants, and such rank is not, of course, allowed in England. Accustomed to unlimited sway and control over a host of fawning slaves, and to that attention as females which, where females are not very plentiful, is most sedu- lously paid accustomed to patronise the new-comers, who of course feel grateful for such well-timed civilitv and hospitality in short, accustomed to rank, splendour, wealth, and power it is not surprising that, upon their return to England, when they find themselves shorn of all these, and that their station in society is far more removed from the apex, they become sullen and dissatisfied. Of course, there are many who have been resident in India, whose family and connections ensure them every advantage upon their return to their native country ; but it must be recollected that the greater portion of those who return consists of those who were of low origin, and who have obtained their appoint- ments in reward for the exertions of their parents in behalf of their patrons in Parliamentary returns, &c., and of young females who have (with their face as their fortune) been shipped off to India upon a matrimonial speculation. Now, however high in rank they may have, in the course of many years' service, arrived to in India, when they return they are nobodies ; and unless they bring with them such wealth as to warrant their being designated as nabobs, their chance of admittance into the best society is very small indeed. I have said that they talked at us, and not to us. The gentleman was civil, and would have conversed, but he was immediately interrupted and sent off on a message ; and, for a quiet life, he gave it up. The system of talking at people always reminds me of the play of the " Critic," 161 i. OLLA PODRIDA in which it is asked, "Why, if he knows all this, is it necessary to tell him again ? " Simply because the audience do not; so, the party in question were the actors, and we were the audience to be informed. The conversation be- tween the adults ran as follows : " You recollect how polite Lord C was to us at ?" "To be sure I do." " Lady D told me so and so." " Yes, I recollect it very well." "What a nice man the Honourable Mr. E is!' "Yes, that he is." "How very intimate we were at with Lady G." "That we were." And so on, during the whole of the day, much to our edification. How contemptible, how paltry is such vanity ! But with their indulgence of it for our amusement, the cowskin, and a scanty dinner, we got through the first day, during which two or three occasional patronising questions or remarks were thrown at our heads, and then they reverted to their own assumed exclusiveness. The night, as may be supposed, was anything but comfortable to those in the cabin ; but I shall not dwell upon what, if fairly narrated, would be a very pretty sketch of human nature. We were to arrive the next day at five o'clock in the afternoon, but we toiled on ; and the sun at last went down, and we found ourselves with the steeple of Strasbourg a long way off We again anchored, and had to pass another night in this miserable vessel and delightful company. The detention, of course, made our fellow-passengers more cross ; and could I have obtained possession of the cowskin, I would certainly have thrown it overboard. The captain sent a man on shore to procure us something to eat, for the steward declared himself bankrupt The next forenoon we arrived at the bridge of boats between Kehl and Strasbourg ; and thus was finished our tedious and unpleasant voyage, of which I have given a description as a warning to *all future travellers. Our fellow-passengers did once con- descend to address and inform us that they had left England (a party of ten people) only to pay a visit to some friends m Switzerland an expensive sort of trip, and which did not appear at all consistent with the fact that they were travelling without a carriage or female servants. Be it as it might, we separated without so much as a salutation or good-bye being exchanged. 162 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT Much of the picturesque on the Rhine is destroyed by the vineyards, which are, in reality, the most unpoetical tilings in landscape scenery, being ranged up the sides of the mountains in little battalions like infantry. It is remarkable in how shallow and how very poor a soil the vine will grow. At St. Michael's they dig square holes in the volcanic rocks, and the vines find sustenance. At the Cape of Good Hope the Constantia vineyards are planted upon little more than sand. I dug down some depth, and could find nothing else. The finest grapes grown in Burgundy are upon a stratum of soil little more than a foot deep, over schistus slate quarries, and the soil itself is composed chiefly of the debris of this soft rock. We know that the vegetable creation has a sort of instinct, as well as the animal ; and it appears to me that there are different degrees of instinct in that portion of nature as well as in the other. A vine, for instance, I take to be a very clever plant, and both apple and pear-trees to be great fools. The vine will always seek its own nourish- ment, hunting with its roots through the soil for the aliment it requires ; and if it cannot find it where it is planted, it will seek, in every direction and to a great distance, to obtain it. It is asserted that the famous vine at Hampton Court has passed its roots under the bed of the river, and obtains aliment from the soil on the other side ; but an apple or pear-tree will take no such trouble it will not even avoid what is noxious. Plant one of these trees in the mould three or four feet above the marl or clay ; so long as the roots remain in the mould the tree will flourish, but so soon as the tap root pierces down to the marl or clay below the mould the tree will canker and die. To prevent this, it is the custom to dig first down to the marl and put a layer of tiles upon it, which turn the roots of the trees from a perpendicular to a horizontal direction, and then they do well ; but leave the tree without assistance, and the fool will commit suicide, blindly rushing to its own destruction ; while the vine will not only avoid it, but use every exertion to procure what is necessary for its continuing in health and vigour. The vine is, therefore, certainly the more intel- lectual plant of the two. 163 OLLA PODRIDA CHAPTER XXXTV _ STRASBOUBG. J. HERE certainly is an impulse implanted in our natures to love something ; our affections were never intended to lie in abeyance, and if they cannot be placed upon the other sex or our own children, they still seek something as an object. This accounts for old bachelors being fond of their nephews and nieces, for blood relationship has nothing to do with it ; and for old ladies, who have not entered into wedlock, be- coming so attached to dogs, cats, and parrots. Sometimes, indeed, the affections take much wilder flights in the pursuit of an object, and exhibit strange idiosyncrasies ; but still it proves by nature we are compelled to love something. I have been reflecting how far this principle may not be supposed to pervade through the universe, and whether we cannot trace it in the inferiors of the animal creation : whether we cannot trace a small remnant of Paradise in the beasts who enjoyed it with man, as well as in man himself. It is well known that animals will take very strong and very strange attach- ments towards other animals. It is, perhaps, more apparent in domestic animals, but is not that because they are more brought together and more under our immediate eye ? In some instances, as in the case when maternal feelings are roused, the strongest antipathies and habit will be controlled. A cat losing her kittens has been known to suckle a brood of young rats, but in this case I consider instinct to have been the most powerful agent ; wjld beasts confined in cages show the same propensity. The lion secluded in his den has often been known to foster and become strongly attached to a dog, thrown in to him to be devoured ; but there never was an instance of a lion or any other wild beast, which had a female in the same den or even a companion of its own species, preserving the life of any other living creature thrown in to him. This feeling occasions also the production of hybrids ; which in a wild state could never take place. There is not, probably, a more ferocious or ill-tempered animal than the bear when it is grown up ; it is subdued by fear, but shows no attachment to its keeper ; yet the other day I fell in with a remarkable narration proving the feeling 164 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT I have referred to actuating even this animal. A proof of the bad feeling of a bear is fully established by the fact that, although Martin., as the old bear is called in the Jai'din des Plantes at Paris, had been confined hi his fosse nearly twenty years, during which time not a day passed that he was not well fed by the people who amused themselves in the garden, when a man fell into his pit he immediately destroyed him. It does, however, appear that all bears are not so ill-tempered as Monsieur Martin. Leopold, Duke of Lorraine, had a bear confined by a long chain, near the palisades below the glacis. Some poor Savoyard boys, who had emigrated as they still do, with the hopes of picking up some money to take back wilh them, had taken shelter in an outhouse during a severe snowstorm. One of them, who was numbed with the cold, thought that he would try if he could not find some warmer berth, and in seeking this, as the snow fell fast, he at last crawled, nearly exhausted, into the kennel of the bear. Instead of tearing the lad to pieces, the bear took him in his fore-paws, and pressed him to his shaggy, warm coat till he was quite recovered. A bear generally receives you with open arms, whatever may be his ultimate decision ; but in this instance it was favour- able. The poor little boy, finding himself in good quarters, went fast asleep ; the next morning he sallied forth to obtain some victuals if he could, but without success. Cold and hunger drove him again to the kennel of the bear, who not only was delighted to see him, but had actually laid aside a portion of his supper for the boy's use. This amicable arrangement continued for some days, and the bear, at last, would not touch his victuals till the boy's return. This peculiar friendship was at last discovered, and the story narrated to the Duke, who sent for the boy, and took care of him, admitting him into his own household. The narrator observes that the boy died a year or two after this unusual occurrence had taken place. I have no doubt but that many more instances might be brought forward by others to establish my supposition. To us, all wild animals of the same species appear to be much alike in disposition, because we have not an opportunity of examining and watching them carefully; but I shouJd rather imagine, that as we can perceive such a manifest difference in temper between indi- OLLA PODRIDA vidual horses and dogs and other animals who are domesti~ cated, that the same difference must exist in the wild species, and that, in fact, there may be shades of virtue and vice in lions, tigers, bears, and other animals ; and that there does exist in animals as well as in man, more or less, according to their natural dispositions, a remnant of those affections which in the garden of our first parents were so strongly implanted as to induce the lion to lie down with the lamb. "God is Love," says the Scriptures ; before the devil found his way to this earth all was love, for God only was there. Now man struggles between the two principles of good and evil. When his nature was changed, so was that of animals ; but the principle not being extinct in man, why should not a portion still remain in the rest of the creation, who, with him, were permitted to inhabit the garden of Eden, and whose savage natures were not roused until, with man, they were driven from that abode of peace ? The most affectionate animal that I know of is the common brown mongoose : it is a creature between the squirrel and the monkey, with all the liveliness but without any of the mischief of the latter. Unfortunately, they will not live in our country, or they would supersede the cat altogether ; tliey are very clean, and their attachment is beyond all conception to those who have not seen them. They will leap on their master's shoulder, or get into his bed, and coil their long bushy tails round his neck like a boa, re- maining there for hours if permitted. I recollect one poor little fellow who was in his basket dying much to the grief of his master who, just before he expired, crawled out of his straw and went to his master's cot, where he had just sufficient strength to take his place upon his bosom, coil his tail round his neck, and then he died. Hares and rabbits are also very affectionate. One of my little girls had one of the latter, which she brought up fti the house. He grew very large, and was domesticated just like a dog, following you everywhere, in the parlour and up into the bedroom ; in the winter lying on the rug before the fire on his side, and stretching out his . four legs as unconcerned as possible, even refusing to go away if you pushed him. As for the cat, she durst not go near him. He thrashed her unmercifully, for he was very DIARY ON THE CONTINENT strong; and the consequence was that she retired to the kitchen, where he would often go down, and, if she was in his way, drive her out. The hare and rabbit, as Veil as the deer tribe, defend themselves by striking with their fore-paws, and the blow which they can give is more forcible than people would suppose. One day when I was in a cover, leaning against a tree with my gun in my hand, I presume for some time I must have been in deep thought, I heard a rustling and then a squeak on the other side of the tree ; I looked round the trunk, and beheld a curious combat between two hares and a stoat. The hares were male and female, and had their leveret between them, which latter was not above six weeks old. The stoat a little devil with all its hair, from the tip of his nose to the end of its tail, standing at end was at about two yards' distance from them, working round and round to have an opportunity to spring upon the leveret, which was the object of its attack. As it went round so did the hares face him, pivoting on a centre with the young one between them. At last the stoat made a spring upon the leveret. . He was received by the hares, who struck him with their fore-feet such blows as I could not have believed possible ; they actually resounded, and he was rolled over and over until he got out of distance, when he shook himself and renewed his attacks. These con- tinued about ten minutes, and every time he was beaten off, but at every spring his teeth went into the poor little leveret ; at last it gave its last squeak, turned over on its side, and died, the father and mother still holding their relative situations, and facing the stoat. The latter showed as much prudence as courage ; for so soon as he perceived that the leveret was dead he also walked off. The hares turned round to their young one, smelt at it apparently, pushed it with their noses, and shortly after, as if aware that it was past all defence, hopped slowly away ; they were hardly out of sight in the bushes when back came the stoat, threw the leveret, twice as big as himself, over his shoulders, and went off with his prize at a hard gallop, reminding me, in miniature, of the Bengal tiger carrying off a bullock. All the actors in the drama having gone off, I walked off, and shortly after both barrels of my gun went 167 OLLA PODRIDA off, so the whole party disappeared, and there's an end of my story. If an elephant were not so very unwieldy, and at the same time so very uncertain in his temper, he is the animal who has the most claims from affection and intelligence to be made a pet of; but an elephant in a drawing-room would be somewhat incommodious ; and although one may admit a little irritability of temper in a lap-dog weighing three pounds, the anger of an elephant, although he expresses himself very sorry for it afterwards, is attended with serious consequences. There is something very peculiar about an elephant in his anger and irritability. It sometimes happens that, at a certain season, a wild elephant will leave the herd, and remain in the woods alone. It is supposed, and I think that the supposition is correct, that these are the weaker males who have been driven away by the stronger, in fact, they are elephants crossed in love ; and when in that unfortunate dilemma they are very mischievous, and play as many fan- tastic tricks as ever did any of the Knights of the Round Table on similar occasions in times of yore. When I was at Trincornalee, an elephant in this situation had taken possession of the road at some leagues distant, and, for reasons best known to himself, would not allow a soul to pass it. He remained perdu in the jungle till he saw somebody coming, and then he would burst out and attack him. It is the custom to travel in palanquins from one part of the island to another, as in all parts of India. If some officer or gentleman was obliged to pro- ceed to Colombo or elsewhere, so soon as the palanquin came towards him out came the elephant ; the native bearers, who knew that it was no use arguing the point, dropped the palanquin and fled, and all that the occupant could do was to bundle out and do the same before the elephant came up, otherwise he had little chance of his life, for the elephant immediately put his knees in the palanquin and smashed it to atoms. Having done this, he would toss the fragments in the air in every direction, at the same time carefully unfolding all the articles con- tained in the palanquin for the occupant's use shirts, trousers, boots, bottles, books, undergoing a most rigid examination, and after that being rendered to fragments, 168 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT If the coolie who had the charge of the bag of letters made his appearance, he was immediately pursued until he gave up the whole correspondence, official or private. The bag was opened, every letter was opened one by one, and then torn in fragments and tossed to the winds. In this way did he keep possession of the road, stopping all communication for several weeks, until it was his sovereign will and pleasure that people might receive their letters and travel across the countiy as before. Now, what an unaccountable freak was this ! It was like the madness of a reasonable being. If I recollect right, it was when Captain Owen was on the east coast of Africa, some of his party who landed were attacked by elephants, who threw them down on the ground, and instead of killing them, as might have been expected, and would have given them no trouble, they drew up a large quantity of mud in their trunks and poured it into their mouths, so as nearly to suffocate them, and then left them. On another occasion they put their fore-feet on their limbs so as to pinch and bruise them severely in every part of their bodies, but avoided their bones so as not to fracture one. Now this was evidently two species of torture invented by the elephants, and these elephants in a wild state. There certainly is some- thing very incomprehensible about these animals. The lion has been styled the king of beasts, but I think he is an usurper allowed to remain on the throne by public opinion and suffrage, from the majesty of his appearance. In every other point he has no claim. He is the head of the feline or cat species, and has all the treachery, cruelty, and wanton love for blood that all this class of animals have to excess. The lion, like the tiger and the cat, will not come boldly on to his prey, but springs from his concealment. It is true that he will face his assailants bravely when wounded, but so will the tiger. In my opinion, the horse is the most noble of all animals, and, I am sorry to say, the most ill-used, at least in England ; for I do not recollect a single instance of having seen a horse ill-treated on the Continent. In fact, you hardly ever see a horse on the Continent that is not in good working con- dition ; you never meet the miserable, lame, blind, and worn-out animals that you do in England, which stumble 169 OLLA PODRIDA along with their loads behind them till they stumble into their graves. If any one would take the trouble to make friends with their horses, they would be astonished at the intelligence and affection of this noble animal ; but we leave them to our grooms, who prefer to use force to kindness. At the same time, I have observed, even in colts, very different dispositions . some are much more fond and good- tempered than others ; but let them be what they \vill as colts, they are soon spoiled by the cruelty and want of judgment of those who have charge of them in the stable. The sympathy between the Arab and his horse is well known : the horse will lie down in the tent, and the children have no fear of receiving a kick ; on the contrary, they roll upon, and with him ; such is the result of kindness. And I can now give a proof of the effects of the contrary, as it was, in this instance, what may be termed malice prepense in the animal. The horses used in the West Indies are supplied from the Spanish Main ; they are from the Andalusian stock originally, partly Arab and barb. These horses are taken by the lasso from the prairies, and broken in as follows They lead them down to the sea beach, saddle and bridle them for the first time, and mount them with a pair of spurs, the rowels of which are an inch long. So soon as the animal plunges and attempts to divest himself of his rider he is forced into the sea, and there he is worked in and out of his depth till he is fairly worn out and exhausted. This is repeated once or twice till they are submissive, and then they are sent off as broken-in horses to the West India Islands. A friend of mine had a very beautiful animal, which he had purchased from one of these ships. He had not bought him more than a week before he took the bit in his mouth, and ran away with the black boy who was exercising him. The boy lost his seat and fell, and the horse, for a hundred yards, continued his career ; and then it stopped, turned round, and galloped up to the boy, who was still on the ground, and never ceased kicking him till the poor fellow's brains were scattered in the road. Now this was evidently deter- mination for revenge. 170 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT CHAPTER XXXV STRASBOURG is full of the pomp and circumstance of war. Being one of the keys of France, it has a garrison of ten thousand men, and the drums and bands playing from morning to evening, much to the delight of the children, at all events. It is a well-built town, although the houses are most of them of very ancient date, with three storeys of mansardes, in their high-peaked roofs. I am rather partial to the Alsatian character ; it is a combination of French, Swiss, and German, which make a very good cross. Not being in a particular hurry, I have remained here ten days, and I will say for Strasbourg that it has many recommenda- tions. It is lively and bustling ; the walks outside the ramparts are beautiful, and living is very reasonable. It has, however, the reputation of being a very unhealthy place, and, I am afraid, with truth. It is singular that the beautiful cathedral, although it has already suffered so much by light- ning, has not yet been fitted with a conductor. There was a meeting of the dignitaries some years back ; some argued in favour and some against it, and it ended in neither party being persuaded, and nothing being done. I met another Englishman here, to whom the question might so properly be put, " What the deuce are you doing here ? " An old worthy, nearly seventy, who, after having passed his fair allowance of life very happily in his own country, must, forsooth, come up the Rhine, without being able to speak a word of French, or any other language but his own. He very truly told me that he had just begun to see the world at a time that he should be thinking of going out of it. He honoured me with the office of interpreter as long as he stayed, and I was not sorry to see him booked for the steamboat, all the way to the London Custom House stairs. There is one remarkable point about the town of Stras- bourg, which is, that the Protestants and Catholics have, I believe always, and do now, live in a state of amity which ought to be an example to others. In running over the history of the town, I do not find that they ever persecuted 171 OLLA PODRIDA each other; but if they have not persecuted each other, I am shocked to say that they have not spared the Jews. At the time of the plague they accused the Jews of having occasioned it by poisoning the wells, and only burnt alive two thousand of them at once ! I wonder when the lightning struck the cathedral they did not drown two thousand more in the Rhine strange Christianity ! when smitten by the hand of God to revenge themselves by smiting their fellow- creatures. I had to call upon a Professor here upon some business ; he amused me very much ; he fancied that he could speak English ; perhaps he might have been able to do so at one time, but, if so, he had forgotten it, but he did not think he had. I addressed him in French, and told him my business. " Sir, you speak English ? " " Yes," replied I. "Then, sir, I tell you that Then he stopped, pondering and perplexed for some minutes, without saying a syllable. " Speak French, sir," said I ; "I per- ceive that you have forgotten a word in our language ; " and I then put another leading question to him, to which he replied, "Yes, I recollect that very well, and I Then another dead pause for the verb. I waited a minute in perfect silence, but his memory was as treacherous as he was obstinately bent upon talking English, and then I again spoke to him, and he replied, " That is true, that you must " Then he broke down again, and I broke up the conference, as I really could not wait until he formed English words, and he was evidently resolved that he would speak no other language. Fortunately, it was no business of my own, but a commission from another, which ended in an omission, which, perhaps, did quite as well. This morning I strolled into a small debit de tabac, to fill my box, and it being excessively warm, was not sorry to sit down and enter into a conversation with the young woman who attended upon the customers. I asked her, among other questions, if the shop was hers. She replied, " That she had hired the licence." This answer struck me, and I inquired if she could obtain a licence for herself. She replied, " No, unless," said she, laughing, "I should marry some old estropie who has been worn out in the service." She then informed me of what I was not aware, which is that, instead of giving pensions to the old militaires, they give them, and 172 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT them onfy, the licences for selling tobacco. They may either carry on the trade themselves, or may lease out their licences to others, for as much as they can obtain for it per year. I perceive that the Gallic cock now struts on the head of the staff bearing regimental colours, instead of the eagle of Napoleon. They certainly have made the cock a most im- posing bird, but still a cock is not an eagle. The couplets written upon this change, which was made by Louis Philippe, are somewhat sarcastic : ' ' Le vaillant coq Gaulois, Grattant sur le fumier, A fait sortir le roi Louis Philippe Premier ; Qui par juste reconnoissance Le mit dans les armes de France." Did not sleep very comfortably this night ; there were too many of us in the bed, and all of us bits of philosophers. I am a bit of a philosopher myself, and surely fleas cannot be considered more than very little bits. All French fleas are philosophers, it having been fairly established by a French punster that they belong to the secte d' Epicure (des piqueurs}. The English who go up the Rhine to Switzerland generally proceed on the German side. Few pass through Alsace or German France, and those who do take the shortest route, by which they avoid Colmar. As I took the longest in pre- ference, I shall in few words point out the features of the country. You pass through the valley of the Rhine, which is flat and fertile to excess, the only break in the uniformity of the country being the chain of Vosges mountains, distant about eight miles on your right, and the occasional passage of the dry bed of a winter torrent from the mountains. The cathedral at Colmar is well worth seeing. In outward architecture it is not very remarkable, but its painted windows are quite as fine as those of Strasbourg ; and in one point it excels all the cathedrals I have seen, which is the choir, handsomely carved in oak, and with good pictures let into the panels. It is in better taste, more solid, and less meretricious in its ornaments, than any I know of. It has also a very fine pulpit, the whole of which, as well as the 173 OLLA PODRIDA steps and balustrade leading up to it, is of fine marble. At Col mar the eye will be struck with the peculiarity of architecture in some of the old buildings; it very often is pure Saracenic. The roads being excellent, we arrived in good time at Basle. Once more in Switzerland. I have more pleasure now in revisiting a country which has left pleasant reminiscences in my mind than in passing through one hitherto unexplored. In the latter case I am usually disappointed. When we revisit those spots in which our childhood was passed, how invariably do we find that the memory is true to what the place appeared to us when children, and hardly to be recog- nised when our ideas and powers of mind have been developed and enlarged in proportion with our frames ? " Is it possible ? " thought I, when I returned after a lapse of fifteen years to the house of my childhood out of mere curiosity, for my family had long quitted it. " Is this the pond which appeared so immense to my eyes, and this the house in my memory so vast ? Why, it is a nutshell ! " I presume that we estimate the relative size of objects in proportion to our stature, and as, when children, we are only half the size of men, of course, to children, everything appears to be twice the size which it really is. And not only the objects about us, but everything in the moral world as well. Our joy is twice the joy of others, and our grief, for the moment, twice as deep ; and these joys and griefs all for trifles. Our code of right and wrong is equally magni- fied : trifles appeared to be crimes of the first magnitude, and the punishments, slight as they were, enough to dissolve our whole frame into tears until we were pardoned. Oh dear, all that's gone, as Byron says "No more, no more, oh, never more on me The freshness of the heart shall fall like dew." The cathedral at Basle is nearly one thousand years old, which is a ripe old age, even for a cathedral. I believe that it is only in Switzerland, and England, and Holland, that you find the Protestants in possession of these edifices, raised to celebrate the Catholic faith. I met here a very intelligent Frenchman who has resided 174 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT many years in the town. One of the first questions I put to him was the following : " For more than twenty years Switzerland has been over- run with English and other visitors, who have spent an enormous sum of money in the country : what has become of all this money?" He replied that I might well ask the question. " They have no banks in Switzerland ; and, although land exchanges owners, still the money does not leave the country. We have here," he said, "a. few millionaires, who do lend their money in France upon good securities ; but except these few, they do nothing with it. The interest of money is so low that I have known it lent bv one of the rich people at two-and-a-half per cent. ; and the Swiss in general, in preference to risking what they can obtain for so small a premium, allow it to remain in their chests. There is, at this present moment, more bullion in Switzerland than in any other country in Europe, or perhaps than in all the countries in Europe. A Swiss is fond of his money, and he does not use it ; the millionaires that we have here make no altera- tion in their quiet and plain state of living." He then continued, "At this moment those who can afford to spend their money at Basle are retrenching, not from motives of economy, but from feelings of ill-will. The burghers, who have country seats, to which they retire during the summer, have abandoned them, and if any one wished to settle in this canton, they might purchase them for half their value. The reason is that there has been a difference between the town burghers and the country people. The canton wanted a reform bill to be passed, in which they have not succeeded. They required a more equitable representation the country people amount to about forty thousand, the town of Basle to only ten thousand ; and the town of Basle, neverthe- less, returns two-thirds of the council which governs the canton, to which the people who live in the country have raised objections. Hence the variance, and to punish the country people by not spending their money among them, the burghers have abandoned their country houses." It may not, perhaps, be generally known that at the time of the three days at Paris, there was an cmcute in Switzerland, in which the aristocracy were altogether put down ; and \x\ 173 OLLA PODRIDA Berne, and some other cantons, the burghers' families, who, on pretence of preventing the aristocracy from enslaving the country, had held the reins of power for so long a period, were also forced to surrender that power to those who had been so long refused participation in it. This was but the natural consequence of the increase of wealth in the country : those who before had remained quiet, feeling themselves of more consequence, insisted upon their rights, and the usual results were that the administration of the government changed hands; but, although this might be considered as an advantage gained, still it was but a change, or rather an admission of those who had become wealthy to a partici- pation of the advantages connected with the exercise of authority ; a change beneficial to a few, but to the masse, productive of no real advantage. At Berne to be a member of the government is considered as a certain source of wealth, a convincing proof that the interests of those who hold the reins are not neglected, and that in a republic it is as difficult to insure to the people their legitimate rights as under any other form of government. And so it will be as long as the world turns round ; man is everywhere the same exacting, selfish, preying creature, and his disposition is not to be changed. The Helvetic Republic is, in fact, nothing but an aggre- gation of petty despotisms leniently administered, 1 grant, but still nothing but despotisms. Those who are in power, or connected with those in power, are the only portion of the community who can amass large sums; and thus the authority is handed down from one to the other within certain limits, which it but rarely transgresses, some- thing very nearly approximating to the corporations in England. In Switzerland, the working man remains the working man, the labourer the labourer, almost as distinct as the Indian castes: the nobles are crushed, and the haughty burgh rules with all the superciliousness of vested right. I have always held a "respublica" as only to exist in theory or in name. History has proved the impossibility of its retaining its purity for half a century. What the American Republic may be jt is impossible to say, until one has been in the country, and discovered what its 176 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT advocates have been careful to conceal. The Americans had a great advantage in establishing this system of govern- ment ; they had nothing to overthrow, nothing to contend with. They all started fair, and their half century is now nearly complete. Time will prove whether it be possible in this world to govern, for any length of time, upon such a basis. Mr. Cocper, in his work on Switzerland, is evi- dently disappointed with his examination into the state of the Helvetic Republic ; and he admits this without in- tending so to do. At Soleure I saw nothing very remarkable, except a dog with a very large goitre on his neck, a sight which I never had witnessed before, during the long time that I wandered through Switzerland. On our way to Berne, to divide the day's travelling more equally, we stopped at a small village, not usually the resting-place of travellers, and I there met with a little bit of romance in real life which Sterne would have worked up well, but I am not sentimental. The house, to which the sign was the appendage, struck me, at first entering, as not having been built for an hoicllerie ; the rooms were low, but large, and the floors parquette ; here and there were to be seen remains of former wealth in pieces of marquetterie for furniture, and clocks of ormolu. There were some old prints, also, on the walls, very superior to those hung up usually in the auberges of the Continent, especially in a village auberge. When the supper was brought up I observed that the silver forks and spoons were engraved with double arms and the coronet of a marquis. I asked the female who brought up the soup from whence they had obtained them. She replied, rather brusquement, that she supposed they had been bought at the silversmith's, and left the room as if not wanting to be questioned. The master of the auberge came up with some wine. He was a tall, fine, aristocratical- looking man, about sixty years of age, and I put the question to him. He replied that they belonged to the family who kept the inn. "But," said I, "if so, it is noble by both descents?" "Yes," replied he carelessly, "but they don't think anything of that here." After a few more questions, he acknowledged that they were the 177 M OLLA PODRIDA armorial bearings of his father and mother, but that the family had been unfortunate, and that, as no titles were allowed in the country, he was now doing his best to support the family. After this disclosure, we entered into a long discussion relative to the Helvetic Republic, with which I shall not trouble my readers. Before I went, I inquired his name from one of the servants, and it imme- diately occurred to me that I had seen it in the list of those twenty-six who are mentioned as the leaders of the Swiss who defeated the Burgundians, and whose monu- ment is carved in the solid rock at Morat. Two engravings of the monument were in the rooms we occupied, and I had amused myself with reading over the names. I am no aristocrat myself, Heaven knows ! and if a country could be benefited, and liberty obtained, by the overthrow of the aristocracy, the sooner it is done the better ; but when we see, as in Switzerland, the aristocracy reduced to keep- ing village inns, and their inferiors, in every point, exerting that very despotism of which they complained, and to free the people from which was their pretence for a change of government, I cannot help feeling that if one is to be governed, let it be, at all events, by those who, from the merits of their ancestors and their long-held possessions, have the most claim. Those who are born to power are not so- likely to have their heads turned by the possession of it as those who obtain it unexpectedly ; and those who are above money-making are less likely to be corrupt than those who seek it. The lower the class that governs, the worse the government will be, and the greater the despotism. Switzerland is no longer a patriarchal land. Wealth has rolled into the country ; and the time will come when there will be a revolution in the Republic. Nothing can prevent it, unless all the cantons are vested into one central government, instead of so many petty oligarchies, as at present, and which will eventually tire out the patience of the people. I parted from my noble host, and will do him the justice to say that his bill was so moderate, compared to the others paid in Switzerland, that I almost wished that all the inns in the cantons were held by the nobility that is, provided they would follow his example. His wine was excellent. 178 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT and I suspect was laid in long before the sign was hung up at the door. From Soleure to Berne the whole road was lined with parties of troops ordered in that direction; every man of t'hem was drunk, cheering and hooting, and halloing at us as we passed. As for the peasant girls they met on the road, I 'really pitied them. At last we have arrived at Berne. The Bernese have chosen a most appropriate symbol in their heraldic crests of the bear, and, as if they had not a sufficient quantity inside of their towns, they keep four in the ditch outside. What a difference between the tables d'hote in Germany and in Switzerland ! I always prefer the table d'hote, when it is respectable, for nothing is more unpleasant than remain- ing in a hotel shut up in your own room ; the latter may be more dignified and aristocratic, but it is not the way to see the world ; one might as well be in England, and indeed, had much better. A table d'hote is a microcosm : you meet there all nations, people of all professions some idle, some busy travelling on important matters, others travelling for amusement. You are unfortunate if you do not fall in with one clever man at least, and you are quite sure to meet with a fool, which is almost as amusing. When I survey a table d'hote I often think of the calenders who had all come to spend the Ramadhan at Bagdad, and their histories ; and I have thought that Grattan might make a very good series of Highways and Byways if he could obtain the history of those who meet at this general rendezvous. The tables d'hote in Germany are excellent, properly supplied, and very moderate. I cannot say so of those in Switzerland. The fondness of the Swiss for money betrays itself in everything, and instead of liberality at the table d'hote, we have mean- ness. The dinner itself is dearer than in Germany, and not half so good ; but what is the most inexcusable part of our host's conduct is, that he half serves his guests, as Sancho was served at Barataria ; for instance, as is usually the case, the viands are put on the table and then removed to be carved ; two ducks will make their appearance at one end, two chickens at the other ; they are removed, and only one of each is cut up and handed round, the others are sent away whole to be redressed for some great man who dines 179 OLLA PODRIDA In his own room. This has been constantly the case since I have been here. It may be asked why we dp not re- monstrate. In the first place, I prefer watching my host's manoeuvres ; and in the next, although I might get my duck, my host would charge me the whole value of it when he sent in his bill. The French Ambassador could not have taken a better step to bring the Swiss to their senses than threatening them with a blockade. It would have been ruin to them. All the golden harvests would have been over, their country would have been deserted, and their Ranz des Vaches would have been listened to only by the cows. As the French minister expected, the councils fumed and vapoured, the officers drew their swords and flourished them, and then very quietly pocketed the affront that they might not be out of pocket. What a pity it is that a nation, so brave and with so many good sterling qualities, should be, as it would appear, so innately mercenary ! There never was a truer saying than " Point d'argent, point de Suisse." CHAPTER XXXVI GENEVA. .LWENTY years have made a wonderful alteration in the good, sober, puritanical city of Geneva. The improvement from the new buildings which they have erected is so great that I could hardly recognise the old city of Geneva in her dress. It was an old friend with a new face, for as you enter the town all the new buildings and streets meet your view. As far as it has proceeded (for there is much left yet to be finished), the new portion of Geneva is finer than any portion of Paris, upon an equal space of ground. But what surprised me more was to read the affiches of the Conu'die. A theatre in Geneva ! When I was last here a theatre was considered by the good people as criminal to the highest degree ; I inquired where the theatre was to be found, and it was all true there mas a theatre. I then made more inquiries. It appeared that Mammon had seduced the puritans of Geneva. People would not winter at Geneva; it was so dull no amusements ; and as soon as the snow was knee deep at 180 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT Chamouny, they all ordered horses and flew away to Paris or Italy. This affected the prosperity of the good citizens, and they talked among themselves ; but no one of the Town Council would propose a theatre, until it was discovered, by private communication, that they were unanimously agreed then the proposition was started and carried. But there are many concomitants attending a theatre, and with the theatre many other innovations have crept in ; so that in a few years Geneva will be no better than Paris. When I was last here, science was the order of the day. There were many celebrated men residing in the town, but they are all gone to their forefathers. Every branch of Natural History had its savant; but, above all, Mineralogy was the most in vogue. But Mineralogy has been superseded lately by her eldest sister Geology, who,' although not so pretty, has been declared more interesting and profound. Still Mineralogy is the more scientific, although Geology is the more speculative. In the education of children, I know no study which so enlarges the mind, or gives a habit of re- search and application, as that of Natural History ; it is amusement and instruction so happily blended that it never tires. Perhaps the natural cupidity of our natures assists, as the knowledge of every new specimen is for the most part accompanied by the possession of the specimen and an addition to the collection. Moreover, it is a tangible study ; not a nomenclature of things, but each substance is in your hand to be examined. The arrangement and classification gives a habit of neatness and order, and children are taught to throw nothing away until its value is known. Every child should be made acquainted with Natural History ; and where the specimens can be obtained, and there is room for them, they should be allowed to have a collection, such as minerals, corals, shells, and plants ; for these sciences, amusing in themselves, will gradually impel them to the others more abstruse, as every branch of Natural Philosophy is intimately connected with them. The mind will ever be active, and if not interested in rational pursuits, it will fly off to the sensual. They have a very excellent plan in Switzerland, in many of the boys' schools, of all the scholars setting off together on a pedestrian tour of some weeks. You will meet a whole 181 OLLA PODRIDA school of thirty or forty urchins, with their knapsacks on their shoulders, attired in blouses, trudging away from town to town, and from mountain to mountain, to visit all the remarkable peculiarities of the country. This is a most excellent method of relaxing from study, and invigorating the mind at the same time that it is allowed to repose. Neither is it so expensive as people would imagine. One room will hold a great many school-boys, where the mattresses are spread over the floor : and I saw them make a very hearty breakfast upon bread and cheese and three bottles of wine, among about forty of them. Why should not the boys about London set off on a tour to the Lakes or elsewhere in the same way every year changing the route ? They then would see something of their own country, which few do before they are launched in life, and have no time to do afterwards. I have never seen the lakes ; in fact, I know nothing of my country, although I have scoured the world so long. I recollect that my father, who had never seen the Tower of London, was determined every year that he would go and see it ; but he never could find time, it appears, for he died without seeing it at last. I did, however, make the observation, that if Geneva had back- slided so far as to permit a theatre, there was a feeling that this innovation required being carefully opposed. When I was at Geneva before there was no theatre, but neither were there shops which dealt exclusively in religious tracts and missionary works. I observed, on this my second arrival, that there were a great many, to serve as a check to the increas- ing immorality of the age. I have referred to the change of twenty years, but what a change has been effected in about three hundred years, in this very country. Read what took place in these cantons at about the date which I have mentioned. I have been reading the chronicles. Observe the powers assumed by the bishops of that period : they judged not only men but brutes ; and it must be admitted that there was some show of justice, as the offending parties, being dumb themselves, were allowed lawyers to plead for them. How the lawyers are paid has not been handed down ; and it appears that the judgments were sometimes easier pronounced than carried into execution. 182 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT At Basle, in the year 1474, it appears that a cock was accused of the enormous crime of having laid an egg : he was brought to trial and condemned to be burnt alive, as a warning to all cocks not to lay eggs, from which it is well known would have been hatched a cockatrice or basilisk. In 1481, cockchafers committed great ravages in the Grisons. The Bishop of Coire condemned them all to trans- portation, and a barren valley was assigned to them as their future residence. Whether the cockchafers obeyed his lordship's orders is not handed down to posterity. Some years afterwards the river Aar was infested with leeches, who spoilt all the salmon. The Bishop of Lausanne excommunicated the whole tribe of leeches in a solemn pro- cession to the river ; and it is dreadful to reflect that this excommunication remains upon their heads even unto this day. Also next door, in France, in 1386, a sow was arraigned for having eaten a young child, and condemned to be hanged ; to add to the disgrace of her punishment, she was dressed in man's clothes. About the same period rats were extremely mischievous, and in consequence were summoned to appear before my Lord the Bishop. But the rats had a good lawyer, who first asserted that the rats, being dispersed in all the neigh- bouring villages, had not had time to collect together and make their appearance ; and that a second and a third summons would be but an act of justice. They were, there- fore, again summoned after the performance of mass on Sunday in each parish. Notwithstanding the three sum- monses, the rats did not appear in court, and then their defender asserted, that in consequence of the affair having been made so public by the three summonses, all the cats were on the look-out, and therefore his clients dare not make their appearance without all the cats were destroyed. The consequence of this difficulty was, that the rats were not punished for contempt of court. I have often thought that it is a great pity that agri- cultural associations in England do not send over a com- mittee to examine into the principle upon which they build and load carts and waggons on the Continent. It is a point on which we are very unenlightened in 183 OLLA PODRIDA .England. The waste of wood in the building, and the wear and tear of horses, are enormous. We have yet many things to learn in England, and must not be .-shamed to profit from our neighbours. One horse will do more work on the Continent, especially in France and Switzerland, from the scientific principles upon which their vehicles are built and the loads are put on, than three horses will accomplish in England. The inquiries of the committee might be extended much if they went to the Agricultural Association at Berne ; they would discover many things which have not yet entered into their philosophy. I doubt very much whether the four-course shift of Norfolk, where farming is considered the most perfect, is not more expen- sive and more exhausting to the land than the other systems resorted to on the Continent; that is, that it is not that which will give the greatest possible returns at the minimum of expense. I have before observed how very seldom you see a horse out of condition and unfit for work on the Continent ; one great cause must be from their not being racked and torn to pieces by overloading; and notwith- standing which, the loads they draw are much heavier than those in England. I have seen a load of many tons so exactly poised upon two wheels, that the shaft horse neither felt his saddle or his belly-band. One great cause of the ill-usage of horses in England is the disgraceful neglect of the public conveyances of all kinds. If an alteration was to be made in the regulations of hackney-coaches and cabs, we should no longer have our feelings tortured by the spectacles of horse misery which we daily meet with. There are plenty of com- missioners for hackney-coaches, and it is a pity that they had not something to do for the money they receive, or else that they were abolished and their duty put into the hands of the police. It may appear a singular remark to make, but I cannot help thinking that there would be a good moral effect in the improvement of hackney-coaches. There are a certain class of people in London to whom these vehicles are at present of no use. I refer to those who have a sufficient independence, but who cannot afford to keep their carriages, and who, by the present system of social intercourse, are almost shut out of society, or are 181 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT inclined to spend more money than prudence would dictate. In all other capitals the hackney-coaches are clean and respectable, and in some instances as good as a private carriage ; and besides that, they have a superior kind of carriage for evening parties, which renders the expense of a private carriage unnecessary. There certainly may be some excuse made for those who dislike hackney-coaches pulling up at their doors, when we look at the disgusting turn-outs of the London stands, at one time filled with drunken men and women, at others carrying diseased people to the hospital, or dead bodies to the Surgeons' Hall. An English hackney-coach is a type of misery as regards the horses' outsides, and a cloaca within ; you know not, when you step into it, whether you are not to encounter disense and death. It may be said that there are tueh vehicles as glass-coaches, as they are tenned ; but those are only to be hired by the day, and become very expensive. The arrangements of these vehicles should be under the police ; every coach and cab should be examined, at the commence- ment of the year, as to its appearance outside as well as its cleanliness inside. The horses should be inspected, and if not in fair working condition, and of a certain height, the licence should be refused. And there should be a superior class allowed at certain stands, who are entitled to demand a higher fare. This would not only be a boon to the public, but a much greater one to the poor horse, who would not drag out his lengthened misery as he does now. When there was no longer any means of selling a poor brute, to whom death was a release, he would be put out of his misery. It would also be a great improvement if the numbers were put inside instead of out, as they are abroad ; and if every description of vehicle, if well fitted, were licensed. CHAPTER XXXVII 1 HE Hotel des Bergues is certainly a splendid establish- ment ; many people winter at this hotel in preference to going to a pension, which is, with the best arrangements, disagreeable, for you are obliged to conform to the usages 185 OLLA PODRIDA and customs, and to take your meals at cet ain hours, hungry or not hungry, as if it were a pension of school-boys and girls, and not grown-up people. The price demanded is the same as at the pensions, viz., 200 francs, or 8 per month, which includes everything but wine and fuel. The establishment is certainly very well conducted. There is a salon, next to the table d'hote, large enough to hold 200 people, well warmed and lighted, handsomely carpeted, with piano, books, prints, newspapers, card tables, &c. Indeed, there is everything you wish for, and you are all independent of each other. I was there for two or three days, and found it very pleasant ; I was amused with a circumstance which occurred. One of the company, a Russian, sat down to the piano, and played and sang. Every one wished to know who he was, and on inquiring, it was a Russian prince. Now a prince is a very great person where princes are scarce, as they are in England, although in Russia a prince, where princes are plenty as blackberries, is about on a par with an English baronet. He was a very honest, off-hand sort of personage, and certainly gave himself no airs on account of his birth and rank. Nevertheless, the English ladies, who were anxious that he should sing again, made a sort of deputation to him, and begged the honour of his highness favouring them with a song, with every variety of courtesy and genuflexion. "Oh yes, to be sure," replied his highness, who sat down and played for an hour ; and then there was so much thank- ing, complimentary acknowledgment of condescension on his part, &c., and the ladies appeared so flattered when he spoke to them. The next day it was discovered that a slight mis- take had occurred, and that, instead of being a prince, he had only come to Geneva along with a Russian prince, and that the real prince was in his own room upstairs ; upon which not only he fell himself at least 200 per cent., but, what was really too bad, his singing fell also ; and many who had been most loud in his praises began to discover that he was not even a prince of musicians, which he certainly was. We had a good specimen of the ndopendence and fami- liarity of Swiss servants, on the occasion of this gentleman's 18t) DIARY ON THE CONTINENT singing ; they came into the salon, and mixed almost with the company, that they might listen to him ; and had they been ordered out, would, in all probability, have refused. An American, with whom I was conversing, observed that in his country such conduct on the part of servants, not- withstanding what had been said by English travellers on the subject, would never have been permitted. I have fallen in with some odd characters here. First, what would be considered a curiosity in England a clergyman of the Church of England with mustachios ! What would the Bishop of London say ? and yet I do not see how, if a. clergyman chose to wear them, he could be prevented. He has good authority to quote ; Calvin wore them, and so, I believe, did Luther. Secondly, with a personage who is very peculiarly disor- ganised when he drinks too much. His wife, a most amiable, quiet lady, is the party whose character is attacked. As soon as Mr. is in his cups, he immediately fancies that his wife is affected with the liquor, and not himself, and he tells everybody in a loud whisper his important secret. "There now, look at Mrs. , one of the best women in the world ; an excellent wife and mother, and at most times as lady like as you would wish to see : but look at her now you see she's quite drunk, poor thing ; what a pity, isn't it, that she cannot get over her unfortunate propensity ; but I am afeard it's no use. I've reasoned with her. It's a sad pity, and a great drawback to my happiness. Well, hang sorrow it killed a cat. Don't notice what I've told you, and pass the bottle." I believe that the English are better acquainted with geography than other nations. I have been astonished at the ignorance on this point I have found in foreigners who otherwise were clever and well-informed men and women. When the Marquis de Claremont Tonnere was appointed to the office of Minister of the Marine and Colonies, upon, the restoration of the Bourbons, a friend of mine had an audience with him, and it was not until a very angry dis- cussion, and a reference to the map, that he could persuade the Minister that Martinique was an island. However, in this instance, we had nearly as great an error committed in our own Colonial Office, which imagined that the Dutch 187 OLLA PODRIDA settlement of Demcrara, upon the coast of South America, and which had fallen into our hands, was an island ; indeed, in the official papers it was spoken of as such. A little before the French Revolution, a princess who lived in Normandy determined upon a visit to her relations in Paris ; and having a sister married to a Polish nobleman, she de- termined to take Poland in her way. To her astonishment, instead of a day or two, her voyage was not completed under four months. I have heard it often asserted that you should not build your house so as to look at a fine prospect out of your win- dows, but so as to walk to view it at a short distance. This may be true with the finest prospects in other countries, but not so in Switzerland, where the view never palls upon the eye, from the constant changing which occurs in the tinting of the landscape. You may look upon the Lake of Geneva every day, and at no one day, or even portion of the day, is the effect the same. The mountains of Savoy are there, and change not their position : neither does the Lake ; but at one time the mountains will appear ten miles nearer to you than they will at another. The changes arising from re- fraction and reflection is wonderful. Never did I witness anything finer than the Lake of Geneva at the setting of yesterday's sun. The water was calm and glassy as a mirror, and it reflected in broad patches, like so many islands dis- persed over it, every colour of the rainbow. I cannot attempt to describe it ; the effect was heavenly, and all I could say was, with the Mussulman, "God is great ! " CHAPTER XXXVIII JlN this world we are so jealous of any discovery being made that innovation is immediately stigmatised as quackery. I say innovation, for improvement is not the term. The attempt to improve is innovation, but the success of the experiment makes it an improvement. And yet how are we to improve without experiment ? Thus we have quackery in everything, although not quite so severely visited as it formerly was by the Inquisition, who would have burnt alive him who asserted that the sun did not go round the earth, 188 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT but the earth round the sun. In medicine, quackery is the most frequently stigmatised. We know but little of the human frame as far as medicine is to act upon it. We know still less of the virtues of various plants which will effect a cure. We are acquainted with a few, but there are hundreds equally powerful, the properties of which we are ignorant of. Could we add to medical science the knowledge of the African negroes and Indians, which they so carefully con- ceal from us, our pharmacopoeia would be much extended. When metallic medicines were first introduced into general use by a physician, an ancestor of mine, and the wonderful effects of them established by the cures, the whole fraternity was up in arms, and he was decried as a quack ; notwith- standing which, the works he wrote have gone through twenty-five editions, and the doses prescribed by him are to this day made use of by the practitioners. The fact is, that although the surgical knowledge of the day is very perfect, the medical art is still in its infancy. Even the quackeries which fail should not be despised, for they have proved something, although they could not be perfected. Animal-magnetism, for instance : it failed, but still it discovered some peculiar properties, some sympathies of the human body, which may hereafter give a clue to more important results. The great proof of the imperfection of medical science is the constant change made by the pro- fession itself. One medicine is taken into favour, it is well received everywhere, until the faculty are tired of it, and it sinks into disgrace. Even in my time I have seen many changes of this sort, not only in medicine, but in diet, &c. What medical man would have thought of prescribing fat bacon for delicate stomachs twenty years ago ? Now it is all the vogue ; breakfast bacon sold in every quarter of the metropolis. Either this is quackery, to use their own term, or twenty years ago they were very ignorant, for their patients received positive injunctions to avoid all fat and greasy substances. Thus do the regular practitioners chop and change about, groping in the dark : but the only distinction is, that all changes made by the faculty are orthodox ; but any alteration proposed out of the pale of M.D. is an innovation and a quackery. 189 OLLA PODRIDA That we have everywhere ignorant men, who are dc facto quacks, I admit ; but still that term has been as liberally applied to the attempts of scientific and clever persons to improve the art of medicine. Even homoeopathy must not be totally rejected until it has had a fair trial. It has one merit in it, at all events, that you take less physic. I consider the continual appearance of new quacks on the horizon a sure proof of the low state of our medical know- ledge. The more so as these quacks, although they kill, do effect very remarkable cures. Do not regular practitioners kill also ? Or rather, do not their prescriptions fail ? If a quack cures, they will tell you that it was by mere accident. 1 suspect that there is more of accident in the practice than the faculty are ready to admit ; and Heaven knows they so change about themselves, that it is clear that they feel no confidence in the little that they do know ; and it is because medicine is so imperfect that every half century we have a new quack, as he is termed, rising up, and beating the regular practitioners out of the field. I could tell a story about Morrison's pills which would surprise not a little, and all the parties are now alive to prove it ; but instead of that, I will tell another which occurred in France, in which a quack medicine had a most wonderful and unusual effect, for it was the means of the total destruction of a banditti, who had defied the Government of the country for many years. About twenty years ago I am not sure whether he still lives there was an irregular practitioner in France of the name of Le Iloi. He was, by all accounts, the King of all Empirics and the Emperor of all Quacks. He was more potent than the sovereign, and the par I'ordre dii Hoi of Government was insignificant compared to the par I'ordre dn Hoi of this more potent personage. He did not publish his cures in pamphlets, but in large quartos. I have seen them myself, larger in size than an Ainsworth's Dictionary. It so happened that an Englishman, who was afflicted with the indescribabl.es, was recommended from every quarter to buy the medicines of Mons. Le Roi. He did so, and his unknown complaint was removed. The consequence was, that the Englishman swore by Le Roi ; and as he was proceeding on to Spain, he took with him a large supply of the doctor's medicines, that he might be prepared in case his complaint should return. All DIARY ON THE CONTINENT quack gentlemen take care that their medicines shall be palatable; no unwise precaution. I do not know a better dram than Solomon's Balm of Gilead. Old Solomon, by-the- bye, lived near Plymouth, and was very partial to the Navy. He kept an excellent table, and was very hospitable. I recollect one day after the officers had drunk a very sufficient quantity of his claret and champagne, being a little elevated, they insisted upon Solomon bringing them out some Balm of Gilead as a finish, and they cleared off about two dozen one guinea bottles. The old gentleman made no objection to provide it as often as they called for more, and they separated ; but the next day he sent them all their bills in for the said Balm of Gilead, ob- serving that, although they were welcome to his wine and table, he must be paid for his medicine. But to proceed. The Englishman travelled with the king's messenger ; most of his baggage had been sent on, but he would not part with his medicine, and this was all in the vehicle with himself. As they passed the Pyrenees they were stopped by the banditti, who dragged them out of the carriage, after shooting the postillion, and made them lie with their faces on the ground, with guards over them, while they rifled the carriage. They soon came to the packages of medicine, and observing that Lc Roi was upon all the bottles, and knowing that they had possession of a king's messenger, they imagined that this was some liquor sent as a present to the King of Spain ; they tasted it, and found that, like other quack medicines, it was very strong and very good. Each man took his bottle, drank the king's health, and mirth and revelry took place, until they had consumed all that the Englishman had brought with him. Now there is a great difference between taking a table-spoonful, and six or seven bottles per man; and so it proved, for they had hardly finished the last case before they found that the medicine acted very powerfully as a cathartic ; the whole banditti were simultaneously attacked with a most violent cholera ; they disappeared one by one ; at last the guards could contain themselves no longer, and they went off too. The two prisoners perceiving this,, rose from the 191 OLLA PODRIDA ground, mounted the horses, and galloped off as fast as they could. They gave notice to the authorities of the first town they arrived at, not four miles distant, and a large body of cavalry were sent out immediately. The effects of the medicine had been so violent that the whole of the banditti were found near to the spot where they had drunk the king's health, in such a state of suffering and exhaustion that they could make no efforts to escape, and were all secured, and eventually hung. CHAPTER XXXIX LAUSANNE. 1 RECOLLECT some one saying, that in walking out you should ndver look up in the air, but always on the ground, as, by the former practice, you were certain never to find anything, although you might by the latter. So if you will not enter into conversation, you are not likely to obtain much information ; whereas if you do, you will always chance to obtain some, even from the quarters the least promising. I was seated on the box of the carriage, with the Swiss voituricr, and asked him if it were not a lucrative profession. "It may appear so to you, sir," replied he, "from the price paid for the horses, but it is not so. All we gain is in five months in the year ; the seven months of winter we have to feed our horses without employment for them, that is, generally speaking." "But have you no employment for them in the winter?" " Yes, we put them into the waggons and draw wood and stone, winch about pays their expenses. If you are known and trusted, you will be employed to transport wine, which is more profitable; but that voiturier who can find sufficient employment for his horses during the winter to pay their keeping, considers himself very fortunate." " When you do make money, what do you do with it ?" " If we can buy a bit of land we do, but most people, if they can, buy a house, which pays better. I prefer land." " There is not much territory in Switzerland, and land is DIARY ON THE CONTINENT not often for sale. Everybody cannot buy land. What do the others do ? " " Lock the money up in their chests." " But do you never put your money in the foreign funds ? " " Yes, the rich do, and those who understand it. We have a' few very rich people in Switzerland, but, generally speaking, the people do not like to part with their money, and they keep it by them." " I was told by a Frenchman at Basle that there was a great deal of bullion lying idle in Switzerland ? " " He told you very true, sir ; there is an enormous quantity of it, if collected together. Those are Jews," continued he, pointing to a char-a-banc passing. " Have you many of those in Switzerland ? I should think not." " No, sir, we do not allow them. One or two families are perhaps permitted in a large town, but no more. We are a small country, and if we were to allow the Jews to settle here, we should soon have too large a population to support. By their customs, they may marry at any age, and they never go into the field and work at the plough." " But may not you marry at any age, and when you No, sir ; we have good laws in that respect, and it pre- vents the population increasing too fast. I belong to a com- mune (parish); if I wish to marry, I must first prove that all my debts are paid, and all my father's debts, and then the commune will permit the cure to marry me." "All your father's debts as well as your own ? " " That is to say, all the debts he may have incurred to the commune. Suppose my father had been a poor man and unable to work, the commune would have let him want for nothing ; but in supplying him they would have incurred an expense that must be repaid by his family before any of the sons are allowed to marry. In the same way, when my father died, although he received no assist- ance from the commune, he left little or nothing. The commune clothed and educated me till I was able to gain my own livelihood. Since I have done well, I have repaid the debt ; I now may marry if I choose." " But cannot you evade this law ? " 193 N OLLA PODRIDA " No, sir. Suppose I was at Berne, and wished to marry a woman who belonged to another commune as well as myself. The banns must be published three times in my parish, three times in her parish, and three times at Berne." " But suppose you married in a foreign country ? " " If a Swiss marries in a foreign country, and has no debts to prevent his marrying, he must write home to the heads of the commune, stating his intention, and his banns will then be published in the commune, and a licence sent him to marry. But if, having debts of your own or your father's, you marry without giving notice, you are then no longer belonging to the commune, and if you come back in dis- tress, you will be conveyed to the confines of the republic, and advised to seek th'e parish of your wife in her country. If you are out of Switzerland with your wife, every child that you have born you must give notice of by letter to the commune, that it may be properly registered; and if you omit so doing, those children have no claim on their return." Such was the result of our conversation, and I repeat it for the benefit of those who occupy themselves with our internal legislation. I have been searching a long while for liberty, but I can find her nowhere on this earth : let me be allegorical. If all the world are still in love with the name of Liberty, how much more were all the world in love with the nymph her- self when she first made her appearance on earth. Every one would possess her, and every one made the attempt, but Liberty was not to be caught. How was it possible without her destruction ? After being harassed all over the world, and finding that she was never allowed to take breath, she once more fled from her pursuers, and, as they seized her garments, with the spring of the chamois she burst away, and bounding from the world, saved herself in Ether, where she remains to this day. Her dress was, however, left behind, and was carried horrie in triumph. It is, however, composed of such slippery materials as its former owner, and it escapes as it pleases from one party to another. It is this dress of Liberty which we now reverence as the goddess herself, and whatever is clothed with it for the time receives the same adoration as would have been offered 194 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT up to the true shrine. Even Despotism, when in a very modest mood, will clothe herself in the garb of Liberty. Now there is really a sort of petty despotism in these free cantons, which would be considered very offensive in England. What would an English farmer say if he was told that he could not commence his harvest without the permission of Government ? Yet such is the case in Switzer- land, where there is a heavy fine if any one commences his vintage before the time prescribed by the authorities. Your grapes may be ripe, and be spoiled; you have to choose between that alternative or paying a fine, which reduces your profits to nil. The reason given for this is that there are so many petty proprietors holding half and quarter acres of vineyards mixed together, and not separated by a wall or fence, that if one began first he would rob the vine- yard of the other not arguing much for the Swiss honesty which has become so proverbial. The case of the vintage laws is peculiarly hard this season upon the small proprietors. The vintage has been late, and winter has now set in, all at once. After weather like summer, we are now deep in snow, and the thermometer is below the freezing point. Few of the small proprietors have wine- presses ; they have to wait until those who have them have got in their vintage, and then they borrow them. The con- sequence is, that the small proprietors are alway the last to gather their grapes, and now they have been overtaken by the weather, and they will lose most of their harvest. Had they been permitted to pick their grapes at their own time, they might have used the presses, and have finished before the large vineyards had commenced. From the inquiries I have made, it appears that the vine- yards of Switzerland pay very badly. Land is at a very high price here, in the Canton de Vaud ; 300 or 400 per acre is not thought dear (600 has been given) ; and in the best seasons a vineyard will not yield 10 per acre. The wine is very indifferent, and requires to be kept for years to become tolerable. But the Swiss are wedded to their vineyards ; and although if they laid down the land in pasture they would gain twice as much, they prefer the speculation of the wine-press, which fails at least three times out of four. 195 OLLA PODRIDA The office of public executioner or Jack Ketch of a canton in Switzerland, as well as in many parts of Germany, is very appropriately endowed. He has a right to all animals who die a natural death, with their skins, hoofs, &c., and this, it is said, brings in a fair revenue if attended to. Executions are so uncommon in Switzerland, that Jack Ketch would starve if he was not thus associated with death. When an execution does take place he is well paid ; they say the sum he receives is upwards of twenty pounds ; but it must be remembered that he does not hang, he decapitates, and this requires some address : the malefactor is seated in a chair, not laid down with his head on the block. An execution took place at Berne when I was last in Switzerland ; the criminal, after he was seated in a chair, was offered a cup of coffee, and as he was drinking it the executioner, with one blow of his heavy sword, struck his head clear off; for a second or two the blood flew up like a fountain : the effect was horrid. An Englishman at Lausanne had a very favourite New- foundland dog which died. He was about to bury it, when the executioner interfered and claimed the skin ; and it was not until he had submitted to the demands of this official gentleman that he was permitted to bury his favourite in a whole skin. Only imagine half-a-dozen old dowagers of Park Lane, whose puffy lap-dogs were dead in their laps, bargaining for their darlings with Jack Ketch, because they wished to have them stuffed ; and Jack's extortion raising his demands, in proportion to the value apparently placed, upon the defunct favourites. Talking about lap-dogs, one of the best stories relative to these creatures is to be found in Madame de Crequey's Memoirs. A Madame de Blot, a French dandyette, if the term may be used, who considered her own sex bound to be ethereal, and would pretend that the wing of a lark was more than sufficient for her sustenance during the twenty-four hours, had one of the smallest female spaniels that was ever known. She treated her like a human being, and when she went out to a party, used to desire her lady's maid to read the animal a comedy in five acts, to amuse it during her absence. It so happened that a fat priest, who was anxious for the protection of Madame de Blot, called to pay his respects. Madame de Blot made a 196 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT sign to him, without speaking, to take his seat upon a large fauteuil. No sooner had the priest lowered down his heavy carcass into the chair, than he felt something struggling under him, and a little recollection told him that it must be the little spaniel. That it was all over with the spaniel was clear, and if her mistress had discovered his accident it was equally clear that it was all over with him, as far as the patronage of Madame de Blot was concerned. The priest showed a remarkable degree of presence of mind upon this trying occasion. He raised himself up a little from his chair and plumped down, so as to give the poor little spaniel her coup de grace, and then entered into conversation with Madame de Blot. During the conversation he contrived by degrees to cram the dog, tail and all, into his capacious coat pocket. As soon as it was fairly out of sight, he rose, bade adieu to Madame de Blot, and backed out of the room with as great respect as if he was in the presence of royalty, much to the satisfaction of Madame de Blot, who was delighted at such homage, and little thought why the good priest would not turn his back to her. The story says that Madame de Blot never could find out what had become of her little CHAPTER XL _. LAUSANNE. W HAT a continual strife there is between literary men ! I can only compare the world of authors to so many rats drowning in a tub, forcing each other down to raise them- selves, and keep their own heads above water. And yet they are very respectable, and a very useful body of men, also, in a politico-economical sense of the word, independent of the advantages gained by their labours, by the present and the future ; for their capital is nothing except brains, and yet they contrive to find support for themselves and thousands of others. It is strange, when we consider how very few, comparatively speaking, are the number of authors, how many people are supported by them. There are more than a thousand booksellers and publishers in the three kingdoms, all of whom rent more than a thousand houses, paying rent and taxes ; support more than a thousand 197 OLLA PODRIDA families, and many thousand clerks, as booksellers alone. Then we have to add the paper manufacturers, the varieties of bookbinders, printing-ink manufacturers, iron pens, and goose quills. All of which are subservient to and dependent upon these comparatively few heads. What a train an author has ! Unfortunately for him it is too long ; there are too many dependent upon him, and, like some potentates, the support of his state eats his whole revenue, leaving him nothing but bread and cheese and fame. Some French writer has said, " La litterature est la plus noble des loisirs, mais le dernier de tous les metiers ; " and so it is, for this one reason, that, according as an author's wants are cogent, so he is pressed down by the publisher. Authors and publishers are natural enemies, although they cannot live without each other. If an author is independent of literature, and has a reputation, he bullies the publisher : he is right ; he is only revenging the insults and contumely heaped upon those whom the publishers know to be in their power, and obliged to submit to them. Well, every dog has its day, and the time will come when I and others, having swam too long, shall find younger and fresher com- petitors, who will, like the rats, climb on our backs, and we shall sink to the bottom of the tub of oblivion. Now, we must drive on with the stream ; the world moves on so fast that there is no stopping. In these times, " Si Ton n'avance pas, on recule." How the style of literature changes ! Even now I perceive an alteration creeping on, which will last for a time. We are descending to the homely truth of Teniers' pictures. Every work of fiction now is " sketched from nature ; " the palaces, the saloon, all the elegancies of high life are eschewed, and the middle and vulgar classes are the subjects of the pencil. But this will not last long. It is the satiety of refinement on the part of the public which for a short time renders the change palatable. I was yesterday informed that a celebrated author wished to be introduced to me. I was ashamed to say that I had never heard his name. The introduction took place, and there was a sort of patronising air on the gentleman's part, which I did not approve of. I therefore told him very frankly that I was not aware of the nature of his literary DIARY ON THE CONTINENT labours, and requested to know what were his works. He had abridged something, and he had written a commentary upon another thing ! just the employment fit for some old gentleman who likes still to puddle a little with ink. One could write a commentary upon anything. One of my children is singing a nursery song; now I'll write a commentary on it in the shape of notes : " Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been ? I've been to London to see the new queen. Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there 1 Hunted a titty mouse under the chair." Now for a commentary : . This simple nursery rhyme is in the familiar style of question and answer, which is always pleasing ; and it is remarkable that two excellent moral lessons are to be found in so few words. The child who sings it may be supposed to repeat the words without comprehending their full meaning ; but although such may be the case, still it is most important that even the rhymes put into the infantine lips should afford an opportunity to those who watch over their welfare to point out to them on a proper occasion the instruction which they contain. In the first line, the term pussy cat may be considered tautological, as pussy and cat both refer to the same animal ; but if so, it is allowable, as pussy may be considered as the Christian and cat as the surname of the animal. It is to be presumed that the cat addressed is young, for it evidently was at play, and old cats do not y. Otherwise it would not have been necessary to repeat name, to call her attention to the question. The cat answers in few words, as if not wishing to be interrupted, that she has been to London to see the new queen. What Queen of England may be referred to, it is impossible to positively ascertain ; but as she says the new queen, we have a right to suppose that it must refer to the accession of a queen to the throne of England. We have here to choose between three, Elizabeth, Mary, and Anne ; and for many reasons, particularly as the two last were married, we are inclined to give the preference to the first, the word fiew having, for the sake <^f the metre, been substituted OLLA PODRIDA for virgin. Certain it is that a married woman cannot be considered as new, although she may not be old. We there- fore adhere to our supposition that this rhyme was com- posed at the accession of the great Elizabeth. And here we may observe, that the old adage that "a cat may look at a king" is fully corroborated, for pussy says expressly that she has been to see the new queen, pointing out that as the sun shines upon all alike, so the sun of royalty, in a well-administered government, will equally dispense its smiles upon all who approach to bask in them ; and that even a cat is not considered as unworthy to look upon that gracious majesty who feels that it is called to rule over so many millions, for the purpose of making them happy. It would appear as if the cat continued to play with her ball, or whatever else might have been its amusements, after having answered the first question ; for, on the second question being put, her attention is obliged to be again roused by the repetition of her name. She is asked what she did there, and the reply is, that she hunted a titty mouse under the chair. There is a wonderful effect in this last line, which fully gives us at once the nature and disposition of the cat, and a very excellent moral lesson. The cat calls the mouse a titty mouse, a term of endearment applied to the very animal that she was putting in bodily fear. It is well known how cats will play with a mouse in the most graceful way; you would almost imagine, from the manner in which it is tossed so lightly and so elegantly, allowed to escape and then caught again, that it was playing with it in all amity, instead of prolonging its miseries and torturing it, previously to its ultimate destruction. It is in reference to this peculiar character of the cat that she is made to use the fond diminutive appellation of titty mouse. The moral contained in this last line hardly needs to be pointed out to our intelligent readers. A cat goes to court, she enters the precincts of a palace, at last she is in the presence of royalty, not as usual in the kitchen, or the cellar, or the attics, or on the roofs, where cats do most congregate, but actually stands in the presence of royalty ; and what does she do ? Notwithstanding the awe which 200 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT it may be naturally supposed she is inspired \vith, notwith- standing the probable presence of noble lords and ladies, forgetful of where she is, and in whose presence she stands, seeing a mouse under the chair, she can no longer control the powerful instincts of her nature ; and forgetting that the object of her journey was to behold royalty, she no longer thinks of anything but hunting the titty mouse under the chair. What a lesson is here taught to the juvenile sexes that we should never attempt to force our- selves above our proper situations in society, and that in so doing we soon prove how much we are out of our place, and how our former habits and pursuits will remain with us, and render us wholly unfit for a position to which we ought never to have aspired. CHAPTER XLI LAUSANNE. AFTER all, there is more sympathy in this world than we would suppose, and it is something to find that, in the turmoil and angry war of opinion and interest, nations as well as parties can lay down their weapons for a time, and offer one general and sincere tribute to genius. In these exciting times we hear of revolutions in Spain and Portugal, deaths of crowned men, with indif"erence, but a shock, as astounding as that of an earthquake in the city of Peru, was felt throughout Europe when the numerous periodicals spread the unexpected intelligence, that the gifted Mali bran. was no more, that in the fulness of her talent and her beauty, just commencing the harvest, ripe and abundant, produced by years of unremitting labour, in which art had to perfect nature, she had been called away to the silent tomb, and that voice which has electrified so many thou- sands was mute for ever. Poor Malibran ! she had had but a niggard portion of happiness in this world, although she procured so much pleasure to others. A brutal father, from whom she received but blows, who sold her to a dotard, who would have sold her again would she have consented ! until her late marriage, toiling for others, without one object in the world on whom to throw her warm affections. I 201 OLLA PODRIDA l-emember one day when we were talking of sea-sickness, I observed that the best remedy was beating the sufferer: she shook her head. " No," said she ; "that will not cure it, or surely I should have been cured when I crossed the Atlantic with ray father." Those who knew Malibran only as a performer did not know enough of her; they should have known her in society, and in domestic life. She was the ne plus ultra of genius in a woman ; one moment all sunshine, the next a cloud would come over her expressive features ; change- able as the wind, but in every change delightful, for she never disguised a thought. Six weeks but six short weeks, and I saw her at Brussels at her country house, whither she had retired after the fatigues of the season. How impressive must be her death. Had she sickened and died at Brussels, the shock would have been great, for it is a shock when youth, beauty, and talent are so suddenly mowed down; but she died, as it were, on the stage. Admiring and applauding thousands had been listening to her magical powers, thousands more, waiting to hear her at the other festivals ; all eyes were upon her, all expecta- tion upon tiptoe, when death, like a matador, comes, in, strikes his victim, bows sarcastically to the audience, and retires. A thousand sermons, and ten thousand common deaths, could not have produced so effective a moral lesson as the untimely fate of Malibran. There is but one parallel to it, and the effect of it was tremendous. It was that of Mr. Huskisson, on the opening of the Manchester Railroad. This is the second homily read to the good people of Liver- pool and Manchester. Peace be with her, although her body is not permitted to be at rest. The more I see of the Swiss and Switzerland, the more is my opinion confirmed as to the strongest feature in the national character being that of avarice. The country is poetry, but the inhabitants are the prose of human existence. Not a chalet but looks as the abode of innocence and peace ; but whether you scale the beetling rock, or pause upon the verdant turf which encircles their picturesque habitations, the demon appears like Satan in the garden of Eden. The infant, radiant as love, extends its little hand for money; 202 DIARY ON THE CONTINENT the adult, with his keen grey eye, searches into you to ascertain in what manner he may overreach you. Avarice rules over the beautiful country of Helvetia. The prevailing foible of a nation is generally to be found in the proverbs of the country and of those adjacent. The Genevese appear to have the credit of excelling the Swiss generally : they say here, " II faut trois Juifs pour faire un Baslois, et trois Baslois pour faire un GeneVois." Again : " Si un Genevois se jette par la fenetre, suivez le ? II y aura pour gagner." It was, however, a very neat answer given by a Swiss to a Frenchman, who asserted that the French fought for honour, and the Swiss for money " C'est vrai/' replied the Swiss, " chacun se bat pour cela que lui manque." The Swiss have abolished titles, they have crushed their nobility ; but human nature will prevail ; and they seek distinction by other channels. Every one who has the least pretension to education or birth looks out for employment under Government : and you can hardly meet with a well- dressed person in the streets who is not a magistrate, in- spector, direcfeur, or employe in some way or the other, although the emoluments are little or nothing. The question has been brought forward as to trial by jury being introduced, and, strange to say, the majority are opposed to it as not being suitable to the Swiss. The reason they give is, that as all respectable people hold offices under Government, and are thereby excused from serving, there will be nobody but the lower classes to sit as jurors. It is very difficult to obtain evidence in a Swiss court of justice ; and this arises from the dislike of the Swiss to give evidence ; as by so doing they may make enemies, and their own interests may be injured. This is completely the character of the Swiss. When I visited Switzerland in my younger days, I used my eyes only, and I was delighted ; now that I visit it again, when years have made me reflect and inquire more, I am disappointed. The charm is dissolved, the land of liberty appears to me to be a land of petty tyranny in the Govern- ment, and of extreme selfishness in the individuals; even the much-vaunted fidelity of the Swiss seems not to have 203 OLLA PODRIDA arisen from any other than mercenary motives. Indeed, there is something radically wrong however faithful they may be to their employers, or however brave and talented they may be in the hearts of those who volunteer for hire and pay to kill their fellow-creatures. I could not put my trust in such men in private life, although I would in the service for which they have hired themselves. Do the faults of this people arise from the peculiarity of their constitutions, or from the nature of their Government ? To ascertain this, one must compare them with those who live under similar institutions. I must go to America ; that's decided. 204 SW. AND BY W. y W. JACK LITTLEBRAIN was, physically considered, as fine grown, and, moreover, as handsome a boy as ever was seen, but it must be acknowledged that he was not very clever. Nature is, in most instances, very impartial ; she has given plumage to the peacock, but, as every one knows, not the slightest ear for music. Throughout the feathered race it is almost invariably the same; the homeliest clad are the finest songsters. Among animals the elephant is certainly the most intelligent, but, at the same time, he cannot be considered as a beauty. Acting upon this well-ascertained principle, nature imagined that she had done quite enough for Jack when she endowed him with such personal perfec- tion ; and did not consider it was at all necessary that he should be very clever ; indeed, it must be admitted, not only that he was not very clever, but (as the truth must be told) remarkably dull and stupid. However, the Littlebrains have been for a long while a well-known, numerous, and influential family, so that, if it were possible that Jack could have been taught anything, the means were forthcoming : he was sent to every school in the country ; but it was in vain. At every following vacation he was handed over from the one peda- gogue to the other, of those whose names were renowned for the Busbian system of teaching by stimulating both ends : he was horsed every day and still remained an ass, and at the end of six months, if he did not run away before that period was over, he was invariably sent back to his parents as incorrigible and unteachable. What was to be done with him ? The Littlebrains had always got on in the world, somehow or another, by their interest and connections ; but here was one who might be said to have no brains at all. 205 OLLA PODRIDA After many pros and cons, and after a variety of consulting letters had passed between the various members of his family, it was decided, that as his maternal uncle, Sir Theophilus Blazers, G.C.B., was at that time second in command in the Mediterranean, he should be sent to sea under his command ; the Admiral having, in reply to a letter on the subject, answered that it was hard indeed if he did not lick him into some shape or another ; and that, at all events, he'd warrant that Jack should be able to box the compass before he had been three months nibbling the ship's biscuit; further, that it was very easy to get over the examination necessary to qualify him for lieutenant, as a turkey and a dozen of brown stout sent in the boat with him on the passing (' v. as a present to each of the passing captains, would pass him, even if he were as incompetent as a camel (or, as they say at sea, a cable) to pass through the eye of a needle ; that having once passed, he would soon have him in command of a fine frigate, with a good nursing first lieutenant ; and that if he did not behave himself properly, he would make his signal to come on board of the flag-ship, take him into the cabin, and give him a sound horsewhipping, as other admirals have been known to inflict upon their own sons under similar circumstances. The reader must be aware that from the tenor of Sir Theophilus's letter, the circum- stances which we are narrating must have occurred some fifty years ago. When Jack was informed that he was to be a midshipman he looked up in the most innocent way in the world (and innocent he was, sure enough), turned on his heels, and whistled as he went for want of thought. For the last three months he had been at home, and his chief employment was kissing and romping with the maids, who declared him to be the handsomest Littlebrain that the country had ever pro- duced. Our hero viewed the preparations made for his departure with perfect indifference, and wished everybody good-bye with the utmost composure. He was a happy, good-tempered fellow, who never calculated, because he could not ; never decided, for he had not -wit enough to choose ; never foresaw, although he could look straight before him ; and never remembered, because he had no memory. The line, "If ignorance is bliss, 'tis folly to be wise," was certainly 20(5 SW. AND BY W. y W. made especially for Jack ; nevei-theless, he was not totally de- ficient ; he knew what was good to eat or drink, for his taste was perfect, his eyes were very sharp, and he could discover in a moment if a peach was ripe on the wall ; his hearing was quick, for he was the first in the school to detect the footsteps of his pedagogue ; and he could smell anything savoury nearly a mile off, if the wind lay the right way. Moreover, he knew that if he put his fingers in the fire he would burn himself; that knives cut severely; that birch tickled, and several other little axioms of this sort which are generally ascertained by children at an early age, but which Jack's capacity had not received until at a much later date. Such as he was, our hero went to sea ; his stock in his sea chest being very abundant, while his stock of ideas was pro- portionately small. We will pass over all the trans-shipments of Jack until he was eventually shipped on board the Mendacious, then lying at Malta with the flag of Sir Theophilus Blazers at the fore a splendid ship, carrying 120 guns, and nearly 120 midshipmen of different calibres. (I pass over captain, lieutenant, and ship's company, having made mention of her most valuable qualifications.) Jack was received with a hearty welcome by his uncle, for he came in pudding time, and was invited to dinner ; and the Admiral made the important discovery that if his nephew was a fool in other points, he was certainly no fool at his knife and fork. In a short time his messmates found out that he was no fool at his fists, and his knock-down arguments ended much disputation. Indeed, as the French would say, Jack was perfection in the physique, although so very deficient in the morale. But if Pandora's box proved a plague to the whole world, Jack had his individual portion of it, when he was summoned to box the compass by his worthy uncle Sir Theophilus Blazers, who in the course of six months discovered that he could not make his nephew box it in the three which he had warranted in his letter ; every day our hero's ears were boxed, but the compass never. It required all the cardinal virtues to teach him the cardinal points during the forenoon, and he made a point of forgetting them before the sun went down. Whenever they attempted it (and various were the teachers 807 OLLA PODRIDA employed to drive the compass into Jack's head) his head drove round the compass ; and try all he could, Jack never could compass it. It appeared, as some people are said only to have one idea, as if Jack could only have one point in his head at a time, and to that point he would stand like a well-broken pointer. With him the wind never changed till the next day. His uncle pronounced him to be a fool, but that did not hurt his nephew's feelings ; he had been told so too often already. I have said that Jack had a great respect for good eat- ing and drinking, and, moreover, was blessed with a good appetite : every person has his peculiar fancies, and if there was anything which more titillated the palate and olfactory nerves of our hero, it was a roast goose with sage and onions. Now it so happened, that having been about seven months on board of the Mendacious, Jack had one day received a summons to dine with the Admiral, for the steward had ordered a roast goose for dinner, and knew not only that Jack was partial to it, but also that Jack was the Admiral's nephew, which always goes for something on board of a flag-ship. Just before they were sitting down to table, the Admiral wishing to know how the wind was, and having been not a little vexed with the slow progress of his nephew's nautical acquirements, said, " Now, Mr. Littlebrain, go up, and bring me down word how the wind is ; and mark me, as, when you are sent, nine times out of ten you make a mistake, I shall now bet you five guineas against your dinner that you make a mistake this time : so now be off, and we will soon ascer- tain whether you lose your dinner or I lose my money. Sit down, gentlemen, we will not wait for Mr. Littlebrain's return." Jack did not much admire this bet on the part of his uncle, but still less did he like the want of good manners in not waiting for him. He had just time to see the covers removed, to scent a whiff of the goose, and was off. " The Admiral wants to know how the wind is, sir," said Jack to the officer of the watch. The officer of the watch went to the binnacle, and setting the wind as nearly as he could, replied, " Tell Sir Theophilus that it is SW. and by W. V. W." 208 SW. AND BY W. 2< W. " That's one of those confounded long points that I never can remember/' cried Jack, in despair. " Then you'll ' get goose/ as the saying is/' observed one of the midshipmen. " No ; I'm afraid that I sha'n't get any/' replied Jack despondingly. " What did he say SW. and by N. ^ E. ? " " Not exactly," replied his messmate, who was a good- natured lad, and laughed heartily at Jack's version. " SW. and by W. ^ W." " I never can remember it," cried Jack. " I'm to have five guineas if I do, and no dinner if I don't ; and if I stay here much longer, I shall get no dinner at all events, for they are all terribly peckish, and there will be none left." " Well, if you'll give me one of the guineas, I'll show you how to manage it," said the midshipman. " I'll give you two, if you'll only be quick and the goose a'n't all gone," replied Jack. The midshipman wrote down the point from which the wind blew, at full length upon a bit of paper, and pinned it to the rim of Jack's hat. "Now," said he, "when you go into the cabin, you can hold your hat so as to read it, without their perceiving you." " Well, so I can ; I never should have thought of that," said Jack. "You hav'n't wit enough," replied the midshipman. " Well, I see no wit in the compass," replied Jack. " Nevertheless, it's full of point," replied the midshipman ; "now be quick." Our hero's eyes served him well, if his memory was trea- cherous; and as he entered the cabin door he bowed over his hat very politely, and said, as he read it off, " SW. and by W. ^ W.," and then he added, without reading at all, " if you please, Sir Theophilus." "Steward," said the Admiral, "tell the officer of the watch to step down." " How's the wind, Mr. Growler ? " " SW. and by W. ^ W.," replied the officer. "Then, Mr. Littlebrain, you have won your five guineas, and may now sit down and enjoy your dinner." Our hero was not slow in obeying the order, and ventured, upon the strength of his success, to send his plate twice for 209 OLLA PODRIDA goose. Having eaten their dinner, drunk their wine, and taken their coffee, the officers, at the same time, took the hint which invariably accompanies the latter beverage, made their bows, and retreated. As Jack was following his seniors out of the cabin, the Admiral put the sum which he had staked into his hands, observing that " it was an ill wind that blew nobody good." So thought Jack, who, having faithfully paid the midship- man the two guineas for his assistance, was now on the poop keeping his watch, as midshipmen usually do ; that is, stretched out on the signal lockers, and composing himself to sleep after the most approved fashion, answering the winks of the stars by blinks of his eyes, until at last he shut them to keep them warm. But, before he had quite composed himself, he thought of the goose and the five guineas. The wind was from the same quarter, blowing soft and mild ; Jack laid in a sort of reverie, as it fanned his cheek, for the weather was close and sultry. " Well," muttered Jack to himself, " I do love that point of the compass, at all events, and I think that I never shall forget SVV. and by W. ^ W. No, I never never liked one before, though " "Is that true ?" whispered a gentle voice in his ear; "do you love ' SVV. and by W. ^ W./ and will you, as you say, never forget her ? " "Why, what's that?" said Jack, opening his eyes, and turning half round on his side. " It's me' SW and by W. ^ W./ that you say you love." Littlebrain raised himself and looked round ; there was no one on the poop except himself and two or three of the after- guard, who were lying down between the guns. " Why, who was it that spoke ? " said Jack, much astonished. "It was the wind you love, and who has long loved you," replied the same voice ; " do you wish to see me ? " "See you, see the wind ? I've been already sent on that message by the midshipmen," thought Jack. " Do you love me as you say, and as I love you ? " continued the voice. "Well, I like you better than any other point of the com- pass, and I'm sure I never thought I should like one of them," Replied Jack. 810 SW. AND BY W. 2< W. "That will not do for me ; will you love only me ? ' " I'm not likely to love the others/' replied Jack, shutting his eyes again ; " I hate them all." " And love me ? " "Well, I do love you, that's a fact," replied Jack, as he thought of the goose and the five guineas. "Then look round, and you shall see me," said the soft voice. Jack, who hardly knew whether he was asleep or awake, did at this summons once more take the trouble to open his eyes, and beheld a fairy female figure, pellucid as water, yet apparently possessing substance ; her features were beautifully soft and mild, and her outline trembled and shifted as it were, waving gently to and fro. It smiled sweetly, hung over him, played with his chestnut curls, softly touched his lips with her own, passed her trembling fingers over his cheeks, and its warm breath appeared as if it melted into his. Then it grew more bold, embraced his person, searched into his neck and collar, as if curious to examine him. Jack felt a pleasure and gratification which he could not well comprehend : once more the charmer's lips trembled upon his own, now remaining for a moment, now withdraw- ing, again returning to kiss and kiss again, and once more did the soft voice put the question " Do you love me ? " " Better than goose," replied Jack. "I don't know who goose may be," replied the fairy form, as she tossed about Jack's waving locks ; " you must love only me : promise me that before I am relieved." " What, have you got the first watch, as well as me ? " replied Jack. " I am on duty just now, but I shall not be so long. We southerly winds are never kept long in one place ; some of my sisters will probably be sent here soon." " I don't understand what you talk about," replied Jack. "Suppose you tell me who you are, and what you are, and I'll do all I can to keep awake ; I don't know how it is, but I've felt more inclined to go to sleep since you have been fanning me about than I did before." " Then I will remain by your side while you listen to m& I am, as I told you, a wind 211 OLLA PODRIDA "That's puzzling," said Jack, interrupting her. My name is SW. and by W. # W." "Yes, and a very long name it is. If you wish me to re- member you, you should have had a shorter one." This ruffled the wind a little, and she blew rather sharp into the corner of Jack's eye, however, she proceeded. " You are a sailor, and of course you know all the winds on the compass by name." " I wish I did ; but I don't," replied Littlebrain ; " I can recollect you, and not one other." Again the wind trembled with delight on his lips, and she proceeded : " You know that there are thirty-two points on the compass, and these points are divided into quarters ; so that there are, in fact, 128 different winds." " There are more than I could ever remember ; I know that," said Jack. "Well, we are in all 128. All the winds which have northerly in them are coarse and ugly ; all the southern winds are pretty." " You don't say so ? " replied our hero. "We are summoned to blow, as required, but the hardest duty generally falls to the northerly winds, as it should do, for they are the strongest ; although we southerly winds can blow hard enough when we choose. Our characters are somewhat different. The most unhappy in disposition, and, I may say, the most malevolent, are the north and easterly winds; the NW. winds are jx>werful, but not un- kind ; the SE. winds vary, but at all events we of the SW. are considered the mildest and most beneficent. Do you understand me ? " " Not altogether. You're going right round the compass, and I never could make it out, that's a fact. I hear what you say, but I cannot promise to recollect it ; I can only recollect SW. and by W. ^ W." " I care only for your recollecting me ; if you do that, you may forget all the rest. Now, you see we South Wests are summer winds, and are seldom required but in this season ; I have often blown over your ship these last three months, and I always have lingered near you, for I loved you." "Thank you now go on, for seven bells have struck 212 SW. AND BY W. 24 W. some time, and I shall be going to turn in. Is your watch out ? " " No, I shall blow for some hours longer. Why will you leave me why won't you stay on deck with me ?" " What, stay on deck after my watch is out ! No, if I do, blow me ! We midshipmen never do that but I say, why can't you come down with me, and turn in my hammock ? it's close to the hatchway, and you can easily do it." " Well, I will, upon one promise. You say that you love me ; now, I'm very jealous, for we winds are always supplant- ing one another. Promise me that you will never mention any other wind in the compass but me, for if you do, they may come to you, and if I hear of it I'll blow the masts out of your ship, that I will." " You don't say so ? " replied Jack, surveying her fragile, trembling form. " Yes, I will, and on a lee shore too ; so that the ship shall go to pieces on the rocks, and the Admiral and every soul on board her be drowned." " No, you wouldn't, would you ? " said our hero, astonished. ."Not if you promise me. Then I'll come to you and pour down your windsails, and dry your washed clothes, as they hang on the rigging, and just ripple the waves as you glide along, and hang upon the lips of my dear love, and press him in my arms. Promise me, then, on no account ever to recol- lect or mention any other wind but me." " Well, I think I may promise that," replied Jack, " I'm very clever at forgetting ; and then you'll come to my ham- mock, won't you, and sleep with me ? you'll be a nice cool bedfellow these warm nights." " I can't sleep on my watch, as midshipmen do ; but I'll watch you while you sleep, and I'll fan your cheeks, and keep you cool and comfortable, till I'm relieved." " And when you go, when will you come again ? " "That I cannot tell when I'm summoned; and I shall wait with impatience, that you may be sure of." "There's eight bells," said Jack, starting up; "I must go down and call the officer of the middle watch : but I'll soon turn in, for my relief is not so big as myself, and I can thrash him." Littlebrain was as good as his word ; he cut down his 213 OLLA PODRIDA relief, and then thrashed him for venturing to expostulate. The consequence was that in ten minutes he was in his hammock, and " SW. and by W. ^ W." came gently down the hatchway, and rested in his arms. Jack soon fell fast asleep, and when he was wakened up the next morning by the quartermaster, his bedfellow was no longer there. A mate, inquiring how the wind was, was answered by the quartermaster that they had a fresh breeze from the NNW., by which Jack understood that his sweetheart was no longer on duty. Our hero had passed such a happy night with his soft and kind companion that he could think of nothing else ; he longed for her to come again, and, to the surprise of every- body, was now perpetually making inquiries as to the wind which blew. He thought of her continually ; and in fact was as much in love with " SW. and by W. ^ W." as he possibly could be. She came again once more did he enjoy her delightful company ; again she slept with him in his hammock, and then, after a short stay, she was relieved by another. We do not intend to accuse the wind of inconstancy, as that was not her fault; nor of treachery, for she loved dearly ; nor of violence, for she was all softness and mildness; but we do say that " SW. and by W. ^ W." was the occa- sion of Jack being very often in a scrape, for our hero kept his word ; he forgot all other winds, and with him there was no other except his dear "SW. and by W. ^ W." It must be admitted of Jack that, at all events, he showed great perseverance, for he stuck to his point. Our hero would argue with his messmates, for it is not those who are most capable of arguing who are most fond of it ; and, like all arguers not very brilliant, he would flounder and diverge away right and left, just as the flow of ideas came into his head. " What nonsense it is your talking that way," would his opponent say ; " why don't you come to the point ? " " And so do I," cried Jack. "Well, then, what is your point ?" "SW. and by W. ^ W.," replied our hero. Who could reply to this ? But in every instance, and through every difficulty, our hero kept his promise, until his 214 SW. AND BY W. ^ W. uncle Sir Theophilus was very undecided whether he should send him home to be locked up in a Lunatic Asylum, or bring him on in the service to the rank of post-captain. Upon mature consideration, however, as a man in Bedlam is a very useless member of society, and a teetotal non-productive, whereas a captain in the navy is a responsible agent, the Admiral came to the conclusion that Littlebrain must follow up his destiny. At last, Jack was set down as the greatest fool in the ship, and was pointed out as such. The ladies observed that such might possibly be the case, but, at all events, he was the handsomest young man in the Mediterranean fleet. We be- lieve that both parties were correct in their assertion. Time flies even a midshipman's time, which does not fly quite so fast as his money and the time came for Mr. Little- brain's examination. Sir Theophilus, who now commanded the whole fleet, was almost in despair. How was it possible that a man could navigate a ship with only one quarter point of the compass in his head ? Sir Theophilus scratched his wig ; and the disposition of the Mediterranean fleet, so important to the countrv, was altered according to the dispositions of the captains who commanded the ships. In those days there were martinets in the service officers who never overlooked an offence, or permitted the least deviation from strict duty ; who were generally hated, but, at the same time, were most valuable to the service. As for his nephew passing his examination before any of those of the first or second, or even the third degree, the Admiral knew that it was impossible. The con- sequence was that one was sent away on a mission to Genoa about nothing ; another to watch for vessels never expected, off Sardinia; two more to cruise after a French frigate which had never been built : and thus, by degrees, did the Admiral arrange, so as to obtain a set of officers sufficiently pliant to allow his nephew to creep under the gate which barred his promotion, and which he never could have vaulted over. So the signal was made our hero went on board his uncle had not forgotten the propriety of a little douceur on the occa- sion ; and, as the turkeys were all gone, three couple of geese were sent in the same boat, as a present to each of the three passing captains. Littlebrain's heart failed him as he pulled 215 OLLA PODRIDA to the ship ; even the geese hissed at him, as much as to say, " If you were not such a stupid ass, we might have been left alive in our coops." There was a great deal of truth in that remark, if they did say so. Nothing could have been made more easy for Littlebrain than his examination. The questions had all been arranged beforehand ; and some kind friend had given him all the answers written down. The passing captains apparently suffered from the heat of the weather, and each had his hand on his brow, looking down on the table at the time that Littlebrain gave his answers, so that of course they did not observe that he was reading them off. As soon as Littlebrain had given his answer, and had had sufficient time to drop his paper under the table, the captains felt better and looked up again. There were but eight questions for our hero to answer. Seven had been satisfactorily got through ; then came the eighth, a very simple one : " What is your course and dis- tance from Ushant to the Start ?" This question having been duly put, the captains were again in deep meditation, shroud- ing their eves with the palms of their hands. Littlebrain had his answer he looked at the paper. What could be more simple than to reply ? and then the captains would have all risen up, shaken him by the hand, compli- mented him upon the talent he had displayed, sent their compliments to the commander-in-chief, and their thanks for the geese. Jack was just answering, " North " " Recollect your promise! ! " cried a soft voice, which Jack well recollected. Jack stammered the captains were mute and waited patiently. " 1 must say it," muttered Jack. "You shan't," replied the little Wind. "Indeed I must," said Jack, "or I shall be turned back." The captains, surprised at this delay and the muttering of Jack, looked up, and one of them gently inquired if Mr. Littlebrain had not dropped his handkerchief or something under the table ? And then they again fixed their eyes upon the green cloth. "If you dare, I'll never see you again," cried "SW. and by W. ^ W.," "never come to your hammock, 216 SW. AND BY W. y W. but I'll blow the ship on shore, every soul shall be lost, Admi'al and all ; recollect your promise?" "Then I shall never pass," replied Jack. " Do you think that any other point in the compass shall pass you except me ? never ! I am too jealous for that. Come now, dearest ? " and the Wind again deliciously trembled upon the lips of our hero, who could no longer resist. " SW. and by W. ^ W.," exclaimed Jack firmly. " You have made a slight mistake, Mr. Littlebrain," said one of the captains. " Look again I meant to say, think again." " SW. and by W. ^ W.," again repeated Jack. " Dearest, how I love you ! " whispered the soft Wind. "Why, Mr. Littlebrain," said one of the captains for Jack had actually laid the paper down on the table "what's in the wind now ? " " She's obstinate," replied Jack. " You appear to be so, at all events," replied the captain. " Pray try once more." " I have it ! " thought Jack, who tore off the last answer from his paper. " I gained five guineas by that plan once before." He then handed the bit of paper to the passing captain. " I believe that's right, sir," said our hero. " Yes, that is right ; but could you not have said it instead of writing it, Mr. Littlebrain?" Jack made no reply ; his little sweetheart pouted a little, but said nothing ; it was an evasion which she did not like. A few seconds of consultation then took place, as a matter of form. Each captain asked of the other if he was perfectly satisfied as to Mr. Littlebrain's capabilites, and the reply was in the affirmative ; and they were perfectly satisfied that he was either a fool or a madman. However, as we have had both in the service by way of precedent, Jack was added to the list, and the next day was appointed lieutenant. Our hero did his duty as lieutenant of the forecastle ; and as all the duty of that officer is, when hailed from the quarter-deck, to answer "Ay, ay, air," he got on without making many mistakes. And now he was very happy ; r.o one dared to call him a fool except his uncle ; he had his own 317 OLLA PODRIDA cabin, and many was the time that his dear little "SW. and by W. ^ W." would come in by the scuttle, and nestle by his side. " You won't see so much of me soon, dearest," said she, one morning, gravely. " Why not, my soft one ? " replied Jack. "Don't you recollect that the winter months are com- ing on ? " "So they are," replied Jack. "Well, I shall long for you back." And Jack did long, and long very much, for he loved his dear wind, and the fine weather which accompanied her. Winter came on, and heavy gales and rain, and thunder and lightning ; nothing but double-reefed topsails, and wearing in succession ; and our hero walked the forecastle, and thought of his favourite wind. The NE. winds came down furiously, and the weather was bitter cold. The officers shook the rain and spray off their garments when their watch was over, and called for grog. "Steward, a glass of grog," cried one, "and let it be strong." "The same for me," said Jack ; "only, I'll mix it myself." Jack poured out the rum till the tumbler was half full. " Why, Littlebrain," said his messmate, " that is a dose ; that's what we call a regular Nor-wester." " Is it ? " replied Jack. " Well then, Nor-westers suit me exactly, and I shall stick to them like cobbler's wax." And during the whole of the winter months our hero showed a great predilection for Nor-westers. It was in the latter end of February that there was a heavy gale ; it had blown furiously from the northward for three days, and then it paused and panted as if out of breath no wonder ! And then the wind shifted, and shifted again, with squalls and heavy rain, until it blew from every quarter of the compass. Our hero's watch was over, and he came down and called for a " Nor-wester " as usual. "How is the wind now?" asked the first lieutenant of the master, who came down dripping wet. " SSW., but drawing now fast to the Westward," said old Spunyarn. Sift SW. AND BY W. # W. And so it was ; and it veered round until " SW. and by W. % W.," with an angry gust, came down the skylight, and blowing strongly into our hero's ear, cried " Oh, you false one ! " "False!" exclaimed Jack. "What! you here, and so angry too ? What's the matter ? " " What's the matter ! do you think I don't know ? What have you been doing ever since I was away, comforting your- self during my absence with Nor-westers ? " " Why, you an't jealous of a Nor-wester, are you ? " replied Littlebrain. "I confess, I'm rather partial to them." " What ! this to my face ! I'll never come again, with- out you promise me that you will have nothing to do with them, and never call for one again. Be quick I cannot stay more than two minutes ; for it is hard work now, and we relieve quick say the word." "Well, then," replied Littlebrain, "you've no objection to half-and-half?" " None in the world ; that's quite another thing, and has nothing to do with the wind." "It has, though," thought Jack, "for it gets a man in the wind; but I won't tell her so; and," continued he, "you don't mind a raw nip, do you ? " "No I care for nothing except a Nor-wester." " I'll never call for one again," replied Jack ! " it is but making my grog a little stronger ; in future it shall be half- and-half." "That's a dear! Now I'm off don't forget me;" and away went the wind in a great hurry. It was about three months after this short visit, the fleet being off Corsica, that our hero was walking the deck, think- ing that he soon should see the object of his affections, when a privateer brig was discovered at anchor a few miles from Bastia. The signal was made for the boats of the fleet to cut her out ; and the Admiral, wishing that his nephew should distinguish himself somehow, gave him the command of one of the finest boats. Now Jack was as brave as brave could be ; he did not know what danger was ; he hadn't wit enough to perceive it, and there was no doubt but he would distinguish himself. The boats went on the service. Jack was the very first on board, cheering his men as he darted 319 OLLA PODRIDA into the closed ranks of his opponents. Whether it was that he did not think that his head was worth defending, or that he was too busy in breaking the heads of others to look after his own, this is certain, that a tomahawk descended upon it with such force as to bury itself in his skull (and his was a thick skull too). The privateer's men were overpowered by numbers, and then our hero vras discovered, under a pile of bodies, still breathing heavily. He was hoisted on board, and taken into his uncle's cabin : the surgeon shook his head when he had examined that of our hero. "It must have been a most tremendous blow," said he to the Admiral, " to have penetrated " It must have been, indeed," replied the Admiral, as the tears rolled down his cheeks, for he loved his nephew. The surgeon having done all that his art would enable him, left the cabin to attend to the others who were hurt ; the Admiral also went on the quarter-deck, walking to and fro for an hour in a melancholy mood. He returned to the cabin, and bent over his nephew ; Jack opened his eyes. " My dear fellow," said the Admiral, " how's your head now." SW. and by IV. % W." faintly exclaimed our hero, constant in death, as he turned a little on one side and expired. It was three days afterwards, as the fleet were on a wind, making for Malta, that the bell of the ship tolled, and a body, sewed up in a hammock and covered with the Union Jack, was carried to the gangway by the Admiral's barge- men. It had been a dull, cloudy day, with little wind ; the hands were turned up, the officers and men stood uncovered ; the Admiral in advance with his arms folded, as the chaplain read the funeral service over the body of our hero, and as the service proceeded, the sails flapped, for the wind had shifted a little ; a motion was made, by the hand of the officer of the watch, to the man at the helm to let the ship go off the wind, that the service might not be disturbed, and a mizzling soft rain descended. The wind had shifted to our hero's much loved point, his fond mistress had come to mourn over the loss of her dearest, and the rain that descended was the tears which she shed at the death of her handsome but not over-gifted lover. ILL-WILL DRAMATIS PERSONA Mr. CADAVEROUS, An old miser, very rich, and very ill. EDWARD, A young lawyer without a brief. Mr. HAUSTUS GUMARABIC, Apothecary. SEEDY, Solicitor. THOMAS MONTAGU, ) ,,. , JOHN MONTAGU, j Ne P Juiv " to Mr - Cadaverous. JAMES STERLING, ) , 7 , WILLIAM STERLING 1 -Nephews twice removed to Mr. Cadaverous. CLEMENTINA MONTAGU, Niece to Mr. Cadaverous. Mrs. JELLYBAGS, Housekeeper and Nurse. ACT I. SCENE. A sick room. Mr. CADAVEROUS in an easy -chair asleep, supported by cushions, wrapped up in his dressing- gown, a night-cap on his head. A small table with phials, gallipots, fyc. Mrs. JELLYBAGS seated on a chair close to the table. Mrs. JELLYBAGS (looks at Mr. CADAVEROUS, and then comes forward). He sleeps yet the odious old rniser ! Mercy on me, how I do hate him, almost as much as he loves his money ! Well, there's one comfort, he cannot take his money-bags with him, and the doctor says that he cannot last much longer. Ten years have I been his slave ten years have I been engaged to be married to Sergeant-Major O'Callaghan of the Blues ten years has he kept me waiting at the porch of Hymen, and what thousands of couples have I seen enter during the time ! Oh dear ! it's enough to drive a widow mad. I think I have managed it ; he OLLA PODRIDA has now quarrelled with all his relations, and Dr. Gumarabic intends this day to suggest the propriety of his making his last will and testament. [Mr. CADAVEROUS, still asleep, coughs.] He is waking. (Looks at him.} No, he is not. Well, then, I shall wake him, and give him a draught, for, after such a comfortable sleep as he is now in, he might last a whole week longer. (Goes up to Mr. CADAVEROUS, and shakes him.') Mr. CAD. (starting up). Ugh! ugh! ugh! (Couglis violently.) Oh ! Mrs. Jelly bags, I'm so ill. Ugh ! ugh ! JEL. My dear, dear sir ! now don't say so. I was in hopes, after such a nice long sleep, you would have found yourself so much better. CAD. Long sleep ! oh dear ! I'm sure I've not slept ten minutes. JEL. (aside). I know that. (Aloud.) Indeed, my dear sir, you are mistaken, Time passes very quick when we are fast asleep. I have been watching you and keeping the flies off. But you must now take your draught, my dear sir, and your pill first. CAD. What ! more pills and more draughts ! Why, there's no end to them. JEL. Yes, there will be, by-and-bye, my dear sir. You know Dr. Gumarabic has ordered you to take one pill and one draught every half hour. CAD. And so I have never missed one for the last six weeks woke up for them day and night. I feel very weak very weak indeed ! Don't you think I might eat some- thing, my dear Mrs. Jellybags ? JEL. Eat, my dear Mr. Cadaverous ! how can you ask me, when you know that Dr. Gumarabic says that it would be the death of you ? CAD. Only the wing of a chicken, or a bit of the breast JEL. Impossible ! CAD. A bit of dry toast, then ; anything, my dear Mrs. Jellybags. I've such a gnawing. Ugh ! ugh ! JEL. My dear sir, you would die if you swallowed the least thing that's nourishing. CAD. I'm sure I shall die if I do not. Well, then, a little soup I should like that very much indeed. 222 ILL-WILL JEL. Soup ! it would be poison, my dear sir ! No, no. You must take your pill and your draught. CAD. Oh dear ! oh dear ! Forty-eight pills and forty -eight draughts every twenty-four hours ! not a wink of sleep day or night. JEL. (soothingly}. But it's to make you well, you know, my dear Mr. Cadaverous. Come, now, (Hands him a pill and some water in a tumbler.} CAD. The last one is hardly down yet ; I feel it sticking half-way. Ugh ! ugh ! JEL. Then, wash them down at once. Come, now, 'tis to make you well, you know. [CADAVEROUS takes the pill with a wry face, and coughs it up again.] CAD. Ugh ! ugh ! There it's up again. Oh dear I oh dear! JEL. You must take it, my dear sir. Come, now, try again. CAD. (coughing}. My cough is so bad. (Takes the pill.} Oh, my poor head ! Now I'll lie down again. JEL. Not yet, my dear Mr. Cadaverous. You must take your draught ; it's to make you well, you know, CAD. What ! another draught ? I'm sure I must have twenty draughts in my inside, besides two boxes of pills ! JEL. Come, now it will be down in a minute. [CADAVEROUS takes the nine-glass in his hand, and looks at it nith abhorrence.] JEL. Come, now. [CADAVEROUS swallows the draught, and feels very sick, puts his handkerchief to his mouth, and, after a time, sinks back in the chair quite exhausted, and shuts his eyes.] JEL. (aside}. I wish the doctor would come. It's high time that he made his will. CAD. (drawing up his leg}. Oh ! oh 1 oh ! JEL. What's the matter, my dear Mr. Cadaverous. CAD. Oh, such pain ! oh, rub it, Mrs. Jelly bags. JEL. W'hat, here, my dear sir ? (Ruhs his knee.} CAD. No, no ! Not there ! Oh, my hip ! JEL. What, here? ' (Rubs his hip.} CAD. No, no! higher higher! Oh, my side! 223 OLLA PODRIDA JEL. What, here ? (Rubs his side.) CAD. No! lower. JEL. Here? (Rubbing.) CAD. No ! higher ! Oh, my chest ! my stomach ! Oh dear ! oh dear ! JEL. Are you better now, my dear sir ? CAD. Oh dear ! oh ! I do believe that I shall die ! I've been a very wicked man, I'm afraid. JEL. Don't say so, Mr. Cadaverous. Every one but your nephews and nieces say that you are the best man in the world. CAD. Do they ? I was afraid that I had not been quite so good as they think I am. JEL. I'd like to hear any one say to the contrary. I'd tear their eyes out that I would. CAD. You are a good woman, Mrs. Jellybags ; and I shall not forget you in my will. JEL. Don't mention wills, my dear sir. You make me so miserable. (Puts her handkerchief to her eyes.) CAD. Don't cry, Mrs. Jellybags. I won't talk any more abdiit it. (Sinks back exhausted.) JEL. (wiping her eyes). Here comes Dr. Gumarabie Enter GUMARABIC. GUM. Good morning, Mrs. Jellybags. Well, how's our patient ? better ? heh ? [Mrs. JELLYBAGS shakes her head.] GUM. No : well, that's odd. (Goes up to Mr. CADAVEROUS.) Not better, my dear sir ? don't you feel stronger ? CAD. (faintly.) Oh no! GUM. Not stronger ! Let us feel the pulse. [Mrs. JELLY- BAGS hands a chair, and GUMARABIC sits donm, pulls out his watch, and counts.] Intermittent 135 well, now that's very odd ! Mrs. Jellybags, have you adhered punctually to my prescriptions ? JEL. Oh yes, sir, exactly. GUM. He has eaten nothing? CAD. Nothing at all. GUM. And don't feel stronger ? Odd very odd ! Pray, has he had anything in the way of drink ? Come, Mrs. Jelly- 224 ILL-WILL bags, no disguise tell the truth ; no soup warm jelly heh? JEL. No, sir ; upon my word, he has had nothing. GUM. Humph! and yet feels no stronger? Well that's odd ! Has he taken the pill every half-hour ? JEL. Yes, sir, regularly. GUM. And feels 110 better ! Are you sure that he has had his draught with his pill ? JEL. Every time, sir. GUM. And feels no better ! Well, that's odd ! very odd, indeed ! (Rises and conies forward with Mrs. JELLYBAGS.) We must throw in some more draughts, Mrs. Jellybags ; there is no time to be lost. JEL. I am afraid he's much worse, sir. GUM. I am not at all afraid of it, Mrs. Jellybags I am sure of it ; it's very odd but the fact is, that all the physic in the world won't save him ; but still he must take it because physic was made to be taken. JEL. Very true, sir. (Whispers to GUMARABIC.) GUM. Ah ! yes ; very proper. (Going to Mr. CADAVEROUS.) My dear sir, I have done my best ; nevertheless, you are ill, very ill which is odd very odd ! It is not pleasant I may say, very unpleasant but if you have any little worldly affairs to settle will to make or a codicil to add in favour of your good nurse, your doctor, or so on it might be as well to send for your lawyer ; there is no saying, but, during my practice, I have sometimes found that people die. After all the physic you have taken, it certainly is odd very odd very odd indeed : but you might die to- morrow. CAD. Oh dear ! I'm very ill. JEL. (sobbing). Oh dear ! oh dear ! he's very ill. GUM. (comes forward shrugging up his shoulders]. Yes ; he is ill very ill; to-morrow, dead as mutton ! At all events, he has not died for WANT of physic. We must throw in some more draughts immediately ; no time to be lost. Life is short but my bill will be long very long ! [Exit as scene closes. 225 OLLA PODRIDA ACT II. SCENE I. Enter CLEMENTINA, mth a letter in her hand. CLEM. I have just received a letter from my dear Edward : he knows of my uncle's danger, and is anxious to see me. I expect him immediately. I hope he will not be seen by Mrs. Jellybags as he comes in, for she would try to make more mischief than she has already. Dear Edward ! how he loves me ! (Kisses the letter.) Enter EDWARD. EDW. My lovely, my beautiful, my adored Clementina! I have called upon Mr. Gumarabic, who tells me that your uncle cannot live through the twenty-four hours, and I have flown here, my sweetest, dearest, to to CLEM. To see me, Edward; surely there needs no excuse for coming ? EDW. To reiterate my ardent, pure, and unchangeable affection, my dearest Clementina : to assure you, that in sickness or in health, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, as they say in the marriage ceremony, I am yours till death shall part us. CLEM. I accept the vow, dearest Edward. You know too well my heart for me to say more. EDW. I do know your heart, Clementina, as it is nor do I think it possible that you could change ; still, sometimes that is, for a moment when I call to mind that, by your uncle's death, as his favourite niece, living with him for so many years, you may soon find yourself in possession of thousands and that titled men may lay their coronets at your feet then, Clementina CLEM. Ungenerous and unkind ! Edward, I almost hate you. Is a little money, then, to sway my affections ? Shame, Edward, shame on you ! Is such your opinion of my con- stancy ? (Weeps.) You must judge me by your own heart. EDW. Clementina! dearest Clementina! I did! but rather that is I was not in earnest ; but when we value any 226 ILL-WILL object as I value you, it may be forgiven, if I feel at times a little jealous ; yes, dearest, jealous ! CLEM. Twas jealousy, then, Edward, which made you so unkind. Well, then, I can forgive that. EDW. Nothing but jealousy, dearest ! I cannot help at times representing you surrounded by noble admirers all of them suing to you not for yourself, but for your money, tempting you with their rank ; and it makes me jealous, horribly jealous ! I cannot compete with lords, Clementina a poor barrister without a brief. CLEM. I have loved you for yourself, Edward. I trust you have done the same toward me. EDW. Yes ; upon my soul, my Clementina ! CLEM. Then my uncle's disposition of his property will make no difference in me. For your sake, my dear Edward, I hope he will not forget me. What's that ? Mrs. Jellybags is coming out of the room. Haste, Edward ; you must not be seen here. Away, dearest ! and may God bless you. EDW. (kisses her hand). Heaven preserve my adored, my matchless, ever-to-be-loved Clementina. [Exeunt separately. SCENE II. The sick-room Mr. CADAVEROUS, lying on a sofa- bed Mr. SEEDY, the lawyer, sitting bi/ his side; with papers on the table before him. SEEDY. I believe now, sir, that everything is arranged in your will according to your instructions. Shall I read it over again ? for although signed and witnessed, you may make any alteration you please by a codicil. CAD. No, no. You have read it twice, Mr. Seedy, and you may leave me now. I am ill, very ill, and wish to be alone. SEEDY (Jolds up his papers and rises). I take my leave, Mr. Cadaverous, trusting to be .long employed as your solicitor. CAD. Afraid not, Mr. Seedy. Lawyers have no great interest in heaven. Your being my solicitor will not help me there. SEEDY (coming forward as he goes out). Not a sixpence to 007 OLLA PODRIDA his legal adviser ! Well, well ! I know how to make out a bill for the executors. [Exit SEEDY, and enter Mrs. JELLYBAOS. JEL. (with her handkerchief to her eyes). Oh dear ! oh dear ! oh, Mr. Cadaverous, how can you fatigue and annoy yourself with such things as wills ? CAD. (faintly). Don't cry, Mrs. Jellybags. I've not for- gotten you. JEL. (sobbing). I can't help crying. And there's Miss Clementina now that you are dying who insists upon coming in to see you. CAD. Clementina, my niece, let her come in, Mrs. Jelly- bags ; I feel I'm going fast I may as well take leave of everybody. JEL. (sobbing). Oh dear ! oh dear ! You may come in, Enter CLEMENTINA. CLEM. My dear uncle, why have you, for so many days, refused me admittance ? Every morning have I asked to be allowed to come and nurse you, and for more than three weeks have received a positive refusal. CAD. Refusal ! Why, I never had a message from you. CLEM. No message ! Every day I have sent, and ever}' day did Mrs. Jellybags reply that you would not see me. CAD. (faintly). Mrs. Jellybags Mrs. Jellybags CLEM. Yes, uncle ; it is true as I stand here ; and my brother Thomas has called almost every day, and John every Sunday, the only day he can leave the banking- house ; and cousins William and James have both been here very often. CAD. Nobody told me ! I thought every one had forgotten me. Why was I not informed, Mrs. Jellybags? JEL. (in a rage). Why, you little, story-telling creature, coming here to impose upon your good uncle ! You know that no one has been here not a soul ; and as for yourself, you have been too busy looking after a certain gentleman ever to think of your poor uncle ; that you have ; taking advantage of his illness to behave in so indecorous a manner. I would have told him everything, but I was afraid of making him worse. 228 ILL-WILL CLEM. You are a false, wicked woman ! JEL. Little impudent creature trying to make mischiet between me and my kind master, but it won't do. (To CLEMENTINA, aside). The will is signed, and I'll take care he does not alter it ; so do your worst. CAD. (faintly). Give me the mixture, Mrs. CLEM. I will, dear uncle. (Pours out the restorative mixture in a glass.) JEL. (going back). You will, Miss indeed ! but you shan't. CLEM. Be quiet, Mrs. Jellybags; allow me at least to do something for my poor uncle. CAD. Give me the mix JEL. (prevents CLEMENTINA from giving it, and tries to take it from her). You shan't, Miss 1 You never shall. CAD. Give me the [Mrs. JELLYBAGS and CLEMENTINA saiffle, at last CLEMENTINA throws the contents of the glass into Mrs. JELLYBAGS' face. CLEM. There, then ! since you will have it. JEL. (in a rage). You little minx ! I'll be revenged for that Wait a little, till the will is read that's all ; see if I don't bundle you out of doors that I will. CLEM. As you please, Mrs. Jellybags ; but pray give my poor uncle his restorative mixture. JEL. To please you ? Not I ! I'll not give him a drop till I think proper. Little, infamous, good-for-nothing CAD. Give me oh ! JEL. Saucy man-seeking CLEM. Oh ! as for that, Mrs. Jellybags, the big sergeant was here last night I know that. Talk of men, indeed ! JEL. Very well, Miss ! very well ! Stop till the breath is out of your uncle's body and I'll beat you till yours is also. CAD. Give oh! CLEM. My poor uncle ! He will have no help till I leave the room I must go. Infamous woman ! [Exit. CAD. Oh! JEL. I'm in such a rage ! I could tear her to pieces ! the little ! the gnat ! Oh, I'll be revenged ! Stop till the will is read, and then I'll turn her out into the streets to starve. Yes ! yes ! the will ! the will ! (Pauses and pants for breath.) 229 OLLA PODRIDA Now I recollect, the old fellow called for his mixture. I must go and get some more. I'll teach her to throw physic in my face. \Goea out and returns with a phial pours out a portion, and goes up to Mr. CADAVEROUS. JEL. Here, my dear Mr. Cadaverous. Mercy on me ! Mr. Cadaverous ! why, he's fainted ! Mr. Cadaverous ! (Screams.) Lord help us ! why, he's dead ! Well now, this sort of thing does give one a shock, even when one has longed for it. Yes, he's quite dead ! (Coming for- ward.} So, there's an end of all his troubles and, thank Heaven ! of mine also. Now for Sergeant-major O'Cal- laghan, and love ! Now for Miss Clementina, and re- venge ! But first the will ! the will ! [Curtain drops.] ACT III. Mrs. JELLYBAOS. Oh dear! this is a very long morning. I feel such sus- pense such anxiety ; and poor Sergeant-major O'Callaghaa is quite in a perspiration ! He is drinking and smoking down in the kitchen to pass away the time, and if the lawyer don't come soon, the dear man will be quite fuddled. He talks of buying a farm in the country. Well, we shall see ; but if the sergeant thinks that he will make ducks and drakes of my money, he is mistaken. I have not been three times a widow for nothing I will have it all settled upon myself; that must and shall be, or else no Sergeant O'Cal- laghan for me | Enter CLEMENTINA. So, here you are, Miss. Well, we'll wait till the will is read, and then we shall see who is mistress here. CLEM. I am as anxious as you, Mrs. Jellybags. You may have wheedled my poor uncle to make up the will in your favour ; if so, depend upon it, I shall expect nothing from your hands, 230 ILL-WILL JEL. I should rather think not, Miss. If I recollect right, you threw the carminative mixture in my face. CLEM. And made you blush for the first time in vour life. JEL. I shall not blush to slam the door in your face. CLEM. Rather than be indebted to you, I would beg my bread from door to door. JEL. I expect that you very soon will. Enter EDWARD. EDW. My dearest Clementina, I have come to support you on this trying occasion. JEL. And ascertain how matters stand, before you decide upon marrying, I presume, Mr. Edward. EDW. Madam, I am above all pecuniary considerations. JEL. So everybody says when they think themselves sure of money. EDW. You judge of others by yourself. JEL. Perhaps I do I certainly do expect to be rewarded for my long and faithful services. CLEM. Do not waste words upon her, my dear. You have my solemn promise ; nothing shall change my feelings to- wards you. JEL. That may be ; but did it never occur to you, Miss, that the gentleman's feelings might alter ? EDW. Detestable wretch ! [Hands CLEMENTINA to a chair on the right, and sils by her. Enter Nephews JOHN, THOMAS, WILLIAM, and JAMES, all nith white pocket-handkerchief s in their hands they take their seats, two right and two left. JEL. (aside). Here they all come, like crows that smell carrion. How odious is the selfishness of this world ! But here is Mr. Gumarabic. How do you do, sir ? (Curtseys with a grave air.) GUM. Very well, I thank you, Mrs. Jellybags. Can't say the same of all my patients. Just happened to pass by thought I would step in and hear the will read odd, that | should pop in at the time very odd. Pray, may I ask^ 231 OLLA PODRIDA my dear Mrs. Jellybags, were you present at the making of the will ? JEL. No, my dear sir ; my nerves would not permit me. GUM. Nerves ! odd, very odd ! Then you don't know how things are settled ? JEL. No more than the man in the moon, my dear sir. GUM. Man in the moon ! odd comparison that from a woman ! very odd ! Hope my chance won't prove all moonshine. JEL. I should think not, my dear sir ; but here comes Mr. Seedy, and we shall know all about it. Enter Mr. SEEDY Mrs. JELLYBAGS, all courtesy, waves her hand to a chair in the centre, with a table before it. Mr. SEEDY sits down, pulls the will out of hi