The Phantom Ship

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  We must return to Amine, who is seated on the mossy bank where she andPhilip conversed when they were interrupted by Schriften, the pilot.She is in deep thought, with her eyes cast down, as if trying to recallthe past. "Alas! for my mother's power," exclaimed she; "but it isgone--gone for ever! This torment and suspense I cannot bear--thosefoolish priests too!" And Amine rose from the bank and walked towardsher cottage.

  Father Mathias had not returned to Lisbon. At first he had not found anopportunity, and afterwards, his debt of gratitude towards Philipinduced him to remain by Amine, who appeared each day to hold more inaversion the tenets of the Christian faith. Many and many were theconsultations with Father Seysen, many were the exhortations of both thegood old men to Amine, who, at times, would listen without reply, and atothers, argue boldly against them. It appeared to them, that sherejected their religion with an obstinacy as unpardonable as it wasincomprehensible. But, to her, the case was more simple: she refused tobelieve, she said, that which she could not understand. She went so faras to acknowledge the beauty of the principles, the purity of thedoctrine; but when the good priests would enter into the articles oftheir faith, Amine would either shake her head, or attempt to turn theconversation. This only increased the anxiety of the good FatherMathias to convert and save the soul of one so young and beautiful; andhe now no longer thought of returning to Lisbon, but devoted his wholetime to the instruction of Amine, who, wearied by his incessantimportunities, almost loathed his presence.

  Upon reflection, it will not appear surprising that Amine rejected acreed so dissonant to her wishes and intentions. The human mind is ofthat proud nature, that it requires all its humility to be called intoaction before it will bow, even to the Deity.

  Amine knew that her mother had possessed superior knowledge, and anintimacy with unearthly intelligences. She had seen her practise herart with success, although so young at the time, that she could not nowrecall to mind the mystic preparations by which her mother had succeededin her wishes; and it was now that her thoughts were wholly bent uponrecovering what she had forgotten, that Father Mathias was exhorting herto a creed which positively forbade even the attempt. The peculiar andawful mission of her husband strengthened her opinion in the lawfulnessof calling in the aid of supernatural agencies; and the argumentsbrought forward by these worthy, but not over-talented, professors ofthe Christian creed, had but little effect upon a mind so strong, and sodecided, as that of Amine--a mind which, bent as it was upon one object,rejected with scorn tenets, in roof of which, they could offer novisible manifestation, and which would have bound her blindly to believewhat appeared to her contrary to common sense. That her mother's artcould bring evidence of _its_ truth she had already shown, and satisfiedherself in the effect of the dream which she had proved upon Philip;--but what proof could they bring forward?--Records--_which they would notpermit her to read_!

  "Oh! that I had my mother's art," repeated Amine once more as sheentered the cottage; "then would I know where I was at this moment. Oh!for the black mirror, in which I used to peer at her command, and tellher 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 thepalm of my hand, and told her of the Bedouin camp--of the skirmish--thehorse without a rider--and the turban on the sand!" And again Aminefell into deep thought. "Yes," cried she, after a time, "thou canstassist me, mother! Give me in a dream thy knowledge; thy daughter begsit as a boon. Let me think again. The word--what was the word? whatwas 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, thoudost well, for she may appear to thee in thy dreams, and strengthen theein the true faith."

  "I called upon my own mother, who is in the land of spirits, goodfather," replied Amine.

  "Yes; but as an infidel, not, I fear, in the land of the blessedspirits, 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 Amineindignantly. "If the good on earth are blessed in the next world--ifshe 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 asher fathers did. Her life was good: why should she be punished forignorance of that creed which she never had an opportunity ofrejecting?"

  "Who shall dispute the will of Heaven, my child? Be thankful that youare permitted to be instructed, and to be received into the bosom of theholy church."

  "I am thankful for many things, father; but I am weary, and must wishyou a good night."

  Amine retired to her room--but not to sleep. Once more did she attemptthe ceremonies used by her mother, changing them each time, as doubtfulof her success. Again the censer was lighted--the charms essayed; againthe room was filled with smoke as she threw in the various herbs whichshe had knowledge of, for all the papers thrown aside at her father'sdeath had been carefully collected, and on many were directions found asto the use of those herbs. "The word! the word! I have the first--thesecond word! Help me, mother!" cried Amine, as she sat by the side ofthe bed, in the room, which was now so full of smoke that nothing couldbe distinguished. "It is of no use," thought she, at last, letting herhands fall at her side; "I have forgotten the art. Mother! mother! helpme 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 shehad been successful in her charm; but, as the figure became moredistinct, she perceived that it was Father Mathias, who was looking ather with a severe frown and contracted brow, his arms folded before him.

  "Unholy child! what dost thou?"

  Amine had roused the suspicions of the priests, not only by herconversation, but by several attempts which she had before made torecover her lost art; and on one occasion, in which she had defended it,both Father Mathias and Father Seysen had poured out the bitterestanathemas upon her, or any one who had resort to such practices. Thesmell of the fragrant herbs thrown into the censer, and the smoke, whichafterwards had escaped through the door and ascended the stairs, hadawakened the suspicious of Father Mathias, and he had crept up silently,and entered the room without her perceiving it. Amine at once perceivedher 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, "but it appears to me notseemly that you should enter the chamber of a young woman during herhusband's absence. I might have been in my bed. It is a strangeintrusion."

  "Thou canst not mean this, woman! My age--my profession--are asufficient warranty," replied Father Mathias, somewhat confused at thisunexpected attack.

  "Not always, father, if what I have been told of monks and priests betrue," replied Amine. "I ask again, why comest thou here into anunprotected woman's chamber?"

  "Because I felt convinced that she was practising unholy arts."

  "Unholy arts!--what mean you? Is the leech's skill unholy? Is itunholy to administer relief to those who suffer?--to charm the fever andthe ague, which rack the limbs of those who live in this unwholesomeclimate?"

  "All charms are most unholy."

  "When I said charms, father, I meant not what you mean; I simply wouldhave said a remedy. If a knowledge of certain powerful herbs, which,properly combined, will form a specific to ease the suffering wretch--anart well known unto my mother, and which I now would fain recall--ifthat knowledge, or a wish to regain that knowledge, be unholy, then areyou correct."

  "I heard thee call upon thy mother for her help."

  "I did, for she well knew the ingredients; but I, I fear, have not theknowledge that she had. Is that sinful, good father?"

  "'Tis, then, a remedy that you would find?" replied the priest; "Ithoug
ht that thou didst practise that which is most unlawful."

  "Can the burning of a few weeds be then unlawful? What did you expectto find? Look you, father, at these ashes--they may, with oil, berubbed into the pores and give relief--but can they do more? What doyou expect from them--a ghost?--a spirit?--like the prophet raised forthe 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 reallysuppose that there was mischief in burning weeds; nor am I convincedthat such was the occasion of your visit at this hour of the night to alone woman's chamber. There may be natural charms more powerful thanthose you call supernatural. I pray you, father, leave this chamber.It is not seemly. Should you again presume, you leave the house. Ithought better of you. In future, I will not be left at any timealone."

  This attack of Amine's upon the reputation of the old priest was toosevere. Father Mathias immediately quitted the room, saying, as he wentout, "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 closed, "I know you did; but Imust rid myself of your unwelcome company. I will have no spy upon myactions--no meddler to thwart me in my will. In your zeal you havecommitted yourself, and I will take the advantage you have given me. Isnot the privacy of a woman's chamber to be held sacred by you sacredmen! In return for assistance in distress--for food and shelter--youwould become a spy. How grateful, and how worthy of the creed which youprofess!" 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 herroom, stating that the priest had entered her chamber, and she did notlike the intrusion.

  "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 pacedthe room below. The next day he called upon Father Seysen, andcommunicated to him what had occurred and the false suspicions of Amine.

  "You have acted hastily," replied Father Seysen, "to visit a woman'schamber 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, ifknown, it would occasion much scandal to our church."

  And known it soon was; for the woman who had been summoned by Amine didnot fail to mention the circumstance and Father Mathias found himselfeverywhere so coldly received, and, besides, so ill at ease withhimself, that he very soon afterwards quitted the country, and returnedto Lisbon, angry with himself for his imprudence, but still more angrywith Amine for her unjust suspicions.