The Phantom Ship

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  The raft was found to answer well, and although her progress through thewater was not very rapid, she obeyed the helm and was under command.Both Philip and Krantz were very careful in taking such marks andobservations of the island as should enable them, if necessary, to findit again. With the current to assist them they now proceeded rapidly tothe southward, in order that they might examine a large island which layin that direction. Their object, after seeking for Amine was to findout the direction of Ternate; the king of which they knew to be atvariance with the Portuguese, who had a fort and factory at Tidore, notvery far distant from it; and from thence to obtain a passage in one ofthe Chinese junks, which, on their way to Bantam, called at that island.

  Towards evening they had neared the large island, and they soon ran downit close to the beach. Philip's eyes wandered in every direction toascertain whether anything on the shore indicated the presence ofAmine's raft, but he could perceive nothing of the kind, nor did he seeany 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 werequite smooth, and remained there until the next morning, when they againmade sail and prosecuted their voyage. Krantz was steering with thelong sweep they had fitted for the purpose, when he observed Philip, whohad been for some time silent, take from his breast the relic which hewore, and gaze attentively upon it.

  "Is that your picture, Philip?" observed Krantz.

  "Alas! no, it is my destiny," replied Philip, answering withoutreflection.

  "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; "butat the same time something near the truth. I have often perceived youwith that trinket in your hand, and I have not forgotten how anxiousSchriften 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 ofyour confidence."

  "That you are my friend, Krantz, I feel; my sincere and much-valuedfriend, for we have shared much danger together and that is sufficientto make us friends; that I could trust you, I believe, but I feel as ifI 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 holymen alone."

  "And if trusted to holy men, surely it may be trusted to sincerefriendship, than which nothing is more holy."

  "But I have a presentiment that the knowledge of my secret would provefatal to you. Why I feel such a presentiment 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," repliedKrantz. "I have risked my life with you before now and I am not to bedeterred from the duties of friendship by a childish foreboding on yourpart, the result of an agitated mind and a weakened body. Can anythingbe more absurd than to suppose that a secret confided to me can bepregnant with danger, unless it be, indeed, that my zeal to assist youmay lead me into difficulties. I am not of a prying disposition; but wehave been so long connected together, and are now so isolated from therest 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 longpreyed 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 overwith him a subject which evidently oppresses you. If, therefore, youvalue my friendship, let me share with you in your sorrows."

  There are few who have passed through life so quietly, as not torecollect how much grief has been assuaged by confiding its cause to,and listening to the counsels and consolations of some dear friend. Itmust not, therefore appear surprising that, situated as he was, andoppressed with the loss of Amine, Philip should regard Krantz as one towhom he might venture to confide his important secret. He commenced hisnarrative with no injunctions, for he felt that if Krantz could notrespect his secret for his secret's sake, or from good will towards 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 acquaintedwith. "Now you know all," said Philip, with a deep sigh, as thenarrative was concluded. "What think you? Do you credit my strangetale, or do you imagine as some well would, that it is a mere phantom ofa disordered brain?"

  "That it is not so, Philip, I believe," replied Krantz; "for I too havehad ocular proof of the correctness of a part of your history. Rememberhow often I have seen this Phantom Ship--and if your father is permittedto range over the seas, why should you not be selected and permitted toreverse his doom? I fully believe every word that you have told me, andsince you have told me this, I can comprehend much that in yourbehaviour at times appeared unaccountable; there are many who would pityyou, Philip, but I envy you."

  "Envy me?" cried Philip.

  "Yes! envy you: and gladly would I take the burden of your doom on myown shoulders, were it only possible. Is it not a splendid thought thatyou are summoned to so great a purpose,--that instead of roaming throughthe world as we all do in pursuit of wealth, which possibly we may loseafter years of cost and hardship, by the venture of a day, and which, atall events, we must leave behind us,--you are selected to fulfil a greatand glorious work--the work of angels, I may say--that of redeeming thesoul of a father, _suffering_ indeed for his human frailties, but notdoomed to perish for eternity; you have, indeed, an object of pursuitworthy of all the hardships and dangers of a maritime life. If it endsin your death, what then? Where else ends our futile cravings, ourcontinual toil, after nothing? We all must die--but how few--who,indeed, besides yourself--was ever permitted before his death to ransomthe 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 ardentsoul, that would mingle with the beings of the other world, and holdintelligence with disembodied spirits."

  "She is right," replied Krantz; "there are events in my life, or ratherconnected with my family, which have often fully convinced me that thisis not only possible but permitted. Your story has only corroboratedwhat I already believed."

  "Indeed! Krantz?"

  "Indeed, yes; but of that hereafter: the night is closing in we mustagain put our little bark in safety for the night, and there is a covewhich I think appears suited for the purpose."

  Before morning a strong breeze, right on shore, had sprung up, and thesurf became so high as to endanger the raft; to continue their coursewas impossible; they could only haul up their raft, to prevent its beingdashed to pieces by the force of the waves, as the seas broke on theshore. Philip's thoughts were, as usual, upon Amine; and as he watchedthe tossing waters, as the sunbeams lightened up their crests, heexclaimed, "Ocean, hast thou my Amine? If so, give up thy dead! Whatis that?" continued he, pointing to a speck on the horizon.

  "The sail of a small craft of some description or another," repliedKrantz; "and apparently coming down before the wind to shelter herselfin the very nook we have selected."

  "You are right; it is the sail of a vessel--of one of those peroquaswhich skim over these seas; how she rises on the swell! She is full ofmen apparently."

  The peroqua rapidly approached, and was soon close to the beach; thesail was lowered, and she was backed in through the surf.

  "Resistance is useless should they prove enemies," observed Philip. "Weshall soon know our fate."

  The people in the peroqua took no notice of them until the craft hadbeen hauled up and secured; three of them then advanced towards Philipand Krantz, with spears in their hands, but evidently with no hostileintentions. One addressed them in Portuguese asking them who they were.

  "We are Hollanders," replied Philip.

  "A part of the crew of the ves
sel which was wrecked?" inquired he.

  "Yes!"

  "You have nothing to fear--you are enemies to the Portuguese, and so arewe. We belong to the island of Ternate--our king is at war with thePortuguese, who are villains. Where are your companions? on whichisland?"

  "They are all dead," replied Philip. "May I ask you whether you havefallen 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 Tidore people to the Portuguese settlement, onthe supposition that she was a Portuguese."

  "Then God be thanked, she is saved," cried Philip. "Merciful Heaven!accept my thanks.--To Tidore 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 consequence. His dresswas to a certain degree Mahometan, but mixed up with Malay; he carriedarms in his girdle and a spear in his hand; his turban was of printedchintz; and his deportment like most persons of rank in that country,was courteous and dignified.

  "We are now returning to Ternate, and will take you with us. Our kingwill be pleased to receive any Hollanders, especially as you are enemiesto the Portuguese dogs. I forgot to tell you that we have one of yourcompanions 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 someother vessel."

  "No," replied Philip, shuddering, "it must be Schriften."

  "Then my eyes must behold him before I believe it," replied Krantz.

  "Then believe your eyes," replied Philip, pointing to the form ofSchriften, who was now walking towards them.

  "Mynheer Vanderdecken, glad to see you. Mynheer Krantz, I hope you arewell. How lucky that we should all be saved. He! he!"

  "The ocean has then, indeed, given up its dead, as I requested," thoughtPhilip.

  In the mean time, Schriften, without making any reference to the way inwhich they had so unceremoniously parted company, addressed Krantz withapparent good-humour, and some slight tinge of sarcasm. It was sometime 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 wellas you. He has his part to play in this wondrous mystery, and willremain until it is finished. Think not of him. Recollect, your Amineis safe."

  "True," replied Philip, "the wretch is not worth a thought; we have nownothing to do but to embark with these people; hereafter we may ridourselves of him, and strive then to rejoin my dearest Amine."