The Phantom Ship

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

  It was not until the day had dawned that Philip opened his eyes, anddiscovered Krantz kneeling at his side; at first his thoughts werescattered and confused; he felt that some dreadful calamity had happenedto him, but he could not recall to mind what it was. At last it rushedupon 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 her which thatwretch Schriften prophesied to us," thought Philip; "cruel indeed towaste away to a skeleton, under a burning sun, without one drop of waterleft to cool her parched tongue; at the mercy of the winds and waves;drifting about--alone--all alone--separated from her husband, in whosearms she would have died without regret; maddened with suspense and withthe 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 anddoting wife. Oh! my head reels! What has Philip Vanderdecken to livefor now?"

  Krantz offered such consolation as his friendship could suggest, but invain. He then talked of revenge, and Philip raised his head. After afew minutes' thought, he rose us. "Yes," replied he, "revenge!--revengeupon these dastards and traitors! Tell me, Krantz how many can wetrust?"

  "Half of the men, I should think, at least. It was a surprise." A sparhad been fitted as a rudder, and the raft had now gained nearer theshore than it ever had done before. The men were in high spirits at theprospect, and every man was sitting on his own store of dollars which intheir eyes, increased in value in proportion as did their prospect ofescape.

  Philip discovered from Krantz, that it was the soldiers and the mostindifferent seamen who had mutinied on the night before, and cut awaythe other raft; and that all the best men had remained neuter.

  "And so they will be now, I imagine," continued Krantz; "the prospect ofgaining the shore has, in a manner, reconciled them to the treachery oftheir companions."

  "Probably," replied Philip, with a bitter laugh; "but I know what willrouse them. Send them here to me."

  Philip talked to the seamen whom Krantz had sent over to him. Hepointed out to them that the other men were traitors not to be reliedupon; that they would sacrifice everything and everybody for their owngain; that they had already done so for money, and that they themselveswould have no security, either on the raft or on shore, with suchpeople; 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 betrue to each other; that it would facilitate their escape, and that theycould divide between themselves the money which the others had secured,and by which they would double their own shares. That it had been hisintention, although he had said nothing to enforce the restoration ofthe money for the benefit of the Company, as soon as they had gained acivilised port, where the authorities could interfere; but that, if theyconsented to join and aid him, he would now give them the whole of itfor their own use.

  What will not the desire of gain effect? Is it therefore to be wonderedat, that these men, who were indeed but little better than those whowere thus in his desire of retaliation, denounced by Philip, consentedto 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 council, and kept their arms by their sides. As thebreeze died away, they were not two miles from the land, and once morethey drifted back into the ocean. Philip's mind was borne down withgrief at the loss of Amine; but it recovered to a certain degree when hethought of revenge: that feeling stayed him up, and he often felt theedge of his cutlass, impatient for the moment of retribution.

  It was a lovely night; the sea was now smooth as glass, and not a breathof air moved in the heavens; the sail of the raft hung listless down themast, and was reflected upon the calm surface by the brilliancy of thestarry night alone. It was a night for contemplation--for examinationof oneself, and adoration of the Deity; and here, on's frail raft, werehuddled together more than forty beings, ready for combat, for murder,and for spoil. Each party pretended to repose; yet each were quietlywatching 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 ofthe yard, so that the sail should fall down upon a portion of the otherparty, and entangle them. By Philip's directions, Schriften had takenthe helm, and Krantz remained by his side.

  The yard and sail fell clattering down, and then the work of deathcommenced; there was no parley, no suspense; each man started upon hisfeet and raised his sword. The voices of Philip and of Krantz alonewere heard, and Philip's sword did its work. He was nerved to hisrevenge, and never could be satiated as long as one remained who hadsacrificed his Amine. As Philip had expected, many had been covered upand entangled by the falling of the sail, and their work was therebymade easier.

  Some fell where they stood: others reeled back, and sunk down under thesmooth water; others were pierced as they floundered under the canvas.In a few minutes the work of carnage was complete. Schriften meanwhilelooked on, and ever and anon gave vent to his chuckling laugh--hisdemoniacal "he! he!"

  The strife was over, and Philip stood against the mast to recover hisbreath. "So far art thou revenged, my Amine," thought he; "but, oh!what are these paltry lives compared to thine?" And now that hisrevenge was satiated, and he could do no more, be covered his face up inhis hands, and wept bitterly, while those who had assisted him werealready collecting the money of the slain for distribution. These men,when they found that three only of their side had fallen lamented thatthere had not been more, as their own shares of the dollars would havebeen increased.

  There were now but thirteen men besides Philip, Krantz, and Schriften,left upon the raft. As the day dawned, the breeze again sprung up, andthey shared out the portions of water, which would have been theallowance of their companions who had fallen. Hunger they felt not; butthe water revived their spirits.

  Although Philip had had little to say to Schriften since the separationfrom Amine, it was very evident to him and to Krantz that all thepilot's former bitter feelings had returned. His chuckle, his sarcasms,his "He! he!" were incessant; and his eye was now as maliciouslydirected to Philip as it was when they first met. It was evident thatAmine alone had for the time conquered his disposition; and that withher disappearance had vanished all the good will of Schriften towardsher husband. For this Philip cared little; he had a much more seriousweight on his heart--the loss of his dear Amine; and he felt recklessand indifferent concerning anything else.

  The breeze now freshened, and they expected that in two hours, theywould run on the beach, but they were disappointed; the step of the mastgave way from the force of the wind, and the sail fell upon the raft.This occasioned great 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 theside of Krantz, leaving Schriften at the helm. He slept soundly--hedreamt of Amine--he thought she was under a grove of cocoa-nuts, in asweet sleep; that he stood by and watched her, and that she smiled inher sleep and murmured "Philip," when suddenly he was awakened by someunusual movement. Half dreaming still, he thought that Schriften, thepilot, had in his sleep been attempting to gain his relic, had passedthe chain over his head, and was removing quietly from underneath hisneck the portion of the chain which, in his reclining posture, he layupon. Startled at the idea, he threw up his hand to seize the arm ofthe wretch, and found that he had really seized hold of Schriften, whowas kneeling by him, and in possession of the chain and relic. Thestruggle was short, the relic was recovered, and the pilot lay at themercy of Philip, who held him down with his knee on his chest. Philipreplaced the relic on his bosom, and, excited to madness, rose from thebody of the now breathless Schriften, caught it in his arms,
and hurledit into the sea.

  "Man or devil! I care not which," exclaimed Philip, breathless; "escapenow, if you can!"

  The struggle had already roused up Krantz and others, but not in time toprevent Philip from wreaking his vengeance upon Schriften. In fewwords, he told Krantz what had passed; as for the men, they cared not;they laid their heads down again, and, satisfied that their money wassafe, inquired no further.

  Philip watched to see if Schriften would rise up again, and try toregain the raft; but he did not make his appearance above water, andPhilip felt satisfied.