the phantom ship, by captain marryat. ________________________________________________________________________ captain frederick marryat was born july , and died august . he retired from the british navy in in order to devote himself to writing. in the following years he wrote books, many of which are among the very best of english literature, and some of which are still in print. marryat had an extraordinary gift for the invention of episodes in his stories. he says somewhere that when he sat down for the day's work, he never knew what he was going to write. he certainly was a literary genius. "the phantom ship" was published in , the thirteenth book to flow from marryat's pen. it is one of his very best books. this e-text was transcribed in by nick hodson, and was reformatted in , and again in . ________________________________________________________________________ the phantom ship, by captain frederick marryat. chapter one. about the middle of the seventeenth century, in the outskirts 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 handrails, for the security of the passenger. but the colours, originally so bright, with which the cottage had been decorated, 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 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 furniture 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, which had been removed from one of the bedrooms upstairs, were all the moveables 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 possessed much beauty: there were still the regular outlines, 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, irremoveable, 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 determination, and as he carelessly swung his legs, and whistled an air in an emphatic manner, it was impossible not to form the idea that he was a daring, adventurous, and reckless character. "do not go to sea, philip; oh, promise me _that_, my 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 van brennen 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 thoughtful, 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 that chamber, and why has it been so long shut up? either i 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; gradually 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. "oh! 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 vanderdecken, who will pay me?" "pay you! my uncle will, directly that he comes home." "your uncle, de skipper vanbrennen: no, he owe 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." "but, mr philip, i cannot come, now i recollect. i have to see the child of the burgomaster at terneuse," replied mynheer poots. "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 to be carried up stairs 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 poots, 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 administered, 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 down stairs with her son into the kitchen. "mynheer philip," said poots, "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, mournfully. "and you will pay me, mynheer vanderdecken?" continued 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, and 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 to crush mynheer poots, who retreated to the corner. "i did not mean until your mother was buried," said poots, 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 slumbered 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 o 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 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 rained 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. "o 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 perplexed 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;--o 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 with only part of his earnings, and one more voyage would have made his fortune. o! 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 dreary 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 down stairs into that room, philip, which since that dreadful night has never been re-opened. 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 midnight, 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 had a painful, horrible foreboding; when, of a sudden, the windows and window-shutters were all blown in, the light was extinguished, 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 if it were noon-day. fear would 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 perceived that a cold (o how cold!) and dripping hand was clasped in mine. this reassured me, and i forgot the supernatural 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 woman's love, philip. he received my caresses but he caressed not again: he spoke not, but looked thoughtful and unhappy. `william--william,' cried i; `speak, to your dear catherine.' "`i will,' replied he, solemnly, `for my time is short.' "`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 yet 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 murderer. 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, 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 canvass flew 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 judgement.' "`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 my 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 two. 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 eyelids, 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 remained." 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 proceeded to examine it. it was not locked; the doors swung open, and drawer after drawer was examined, but philip discovered 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 on his knees busily employed forcing out the panel, when a 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 or 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--" "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, i would indeed--i could 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--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." 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 poots; 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 recollect 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 setting of the relic, which was in 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 sum. 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 was 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; at length, to his horror, he beheld philip vanderdecken at a 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 to make some terms ere he restored it. mynheer poots 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 step, 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 story 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 of disease and death. what his establishment consisted of 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 poots in person, if he were at home, and if not, there was no reply to the most importunate 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 sufficient to recover his relic without having recourse to violence. so he called out in a loud voice-- "mynheer poots, 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 poots; but the little miser had recovered from his fright, and, thinking himself secure, could not make up his mind to surrender 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, indulged 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 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 white, her chin dimpled, her ruby 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 beauteous 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 every 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 beating 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 return." philip waited several minutes, lost in thought and admiration: so fair a creature in the house of mynheer poots! who could she be? while thus ruminating, he 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 take up the relic which lay at his feet. she would have retired from the window without reply, but philip spoke a again-- "stop, lady, stop one moment, until i beg your forgiveness for a wild, foolish act. i swear by this sacred relic," continued he, taking it from the ground and raising it to his lips, "that had i known that any unoffending person had been in 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 occasioned, and then i will depart." "no, no; don't trust him," said mynheer poots, 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 quite 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 the 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. chapter three. the discovery of the beautiful daughter of mynheer poots 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 poots. 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 expression, her silver voice, and the words which she had uttered; but her pleasing image was soon chased away by the recollection 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 poots, 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 excitement, 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 interrupted, 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 forgetfulness. 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. if this buoyant feeling had not been planted in our nature, 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 work-box, 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!" "not 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 reflection. it would be but time thrown away, when one is resolved as i am." 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 hand 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 the resolution of philip more than the previous gloom and darkness had done; and with the candle in his hand, he retreated hastily into the kitchen to re-summon 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 poots, 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 this 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 doors 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, in 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 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 work-box, and the fatal letter. as he turned round, his pulse, which had gradually recovered its regular motion, beat more quickly, but he made the effort, and it was over. at first he examined the walls, against which were hung swords and pistols of various sorts but chiefly 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 work-box and all its implements 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 work-box to ascertain if it was beneath--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 imagination. 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 thou hast suffered; but thou art now rewarded, and with thy god." after a few minutes (during which he surveyed the room again and again with more coolness, and perhaps some indifference, 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 farthest 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 considerable 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 dream scared thee to penury and want, with all this wealth in thy possession?" philip replaced the sacks, and locked up the cupboards, after having taken out of one, already half emptied, a few pieces for his immediate wants. his attention was next directed to the buffets above, which with one of the keys, he opened; he found that they contained china, and silver flagons, and cups of considerable value. the locks were again turned, and the bunch of keys thrown upon the table. the sudden possession of so much wealth added to the conviction, 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 on 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 ourselves, 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 must have been so; for see here, lying on the floor, is the embroidery, 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, and 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 persuaded 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 four. 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 anticipations: 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. "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 mission 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 composed. "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 remembered that that one was his father; and that it was 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 mused a short time; he was once more the daring 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, farewell. "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, o pardon my presumption." philip threw himself forward on his face, with his lips to the sacred symbol. the sun went down, and the twilight gradually disappeared; 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 concealed. 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 paling 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 mistaken 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?" "o yes," replied the others. "well, then," replied the one who had stipulated for mynheer poots's 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." "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 remembered 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 me this morning, that what i state is true." 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 poots 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 overheard, 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, i 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 is 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?" "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 ope the door to you--at night--he 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 did assail. i thank you, thank you kindly, sir--but dare not ope 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 'gainst any odds--yes, even here!" "then shall i be thy murderer!--but that must not be. oh! 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 in her right hand, the colour in her cheeks varying--now flushing red, and again deadly pale. her left hand was down by her side, and in it she held a pistol half concealed. philip perceived this precaution on her part, but took no notice of it; he wished to re-assure her. "maiden!" said he, not entering, "if you still have doubts--if you think you have been ill advised in giving me admission--there is yet time to close the door against me; but for your own sake i entreat you not. before the moon is up, the robbers will be here. with my life i will protect you, if you will but trust me. who indeed could injure one like you?" 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 he spoke--earnestly, as if she would have penetrated into his inmost thoughts; but there was a frankness and honesty in his bearing, and a sincerity in his manly countenance, which re-assured 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, "devoutedly 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 prepared. 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." "no, no," replied philip, "you might be hurt." "i may. but think you i will remain here idly, when i 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 other 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 with 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 distinguish 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 reconnoissance. the robbers did not appear to have made up their mind--the strength of the door defied their utmost efforts, so they attempted stratagem. they knocked, and as there was no reply, they continued to knock louder and louder: not meeting with success, they held another consultation, 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 prevents the taking away of life, except from stern necessity; and this feeling made him withhold his fire until hostilities had actually commenced. he now levelled one of the carbines at the head of the robber nearest to the door, who was busy examining 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 fire-arms 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." "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 down stairs 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 fire-arms 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. in a few minutes, mynheer poots was more coherent. "my daughter!" exclaimed he--"my daughter! where 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 of 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 bank 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 door were quite dead. the others, who had seized upon mynheer 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 recollection, and a shade passed over his countenance. "long and happily--no, no," muttered he, with an involuntary shake of the head. "and i must thank you," said amine, looking inquiringly in philip's face. "o, 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." "i repeat to you, amine," said philip, "that i have thousands 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 man, as philip left the room and went below. chapter five. 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 made him restless and confused. he longed for repose, but he knew that for him there was no rest. he had his forebodings--he perceived in the vista of futurity a long-continued 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 disappearance 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 satisfactorily 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 pistol from his bosom. he turned round and beheld amine. "and that pistol was intended for me," said amine, smiling, repeating philip's words of the night before. "for you, amine?--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 proprietor 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 rarity, 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." "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 safe. 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 that better feeling, amine?" "i hardly know--many good feelings perhaps mixed up together--gratitude, esteem, respect, confidence, good-will. 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." "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 ungrateful 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 feelings 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 her 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 death-bed." "there must have been some potent reasons for not opening 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." "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 re-appearance." "i fear not that," replied amine, musing. "but," continued 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 not 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." "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 my 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 indiscriminate 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 fortunately 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." "and does your father still hold the mahomedan faith, amine?" "i know not. i think he holds no faith whatever: at least he hath taught me none. his god is gold." "and yours?" "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 leading 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 own faith is true: then is it not your duty to reveal these proofs? tell me, are you bound by any solemn obligations 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 down stairs. 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 removed 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 conversation 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 it may be supposed, it was late that night before they had made their arrangements, and had retired to rest. chapter six. "this, 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 birdcages: 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 so 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 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 birdcages, 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. "i 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, _we_ 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 rivetted upon it, and he could not remove them. every minute he muttered, "yes, all silver." philip came down stairs; 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 grateful. amine came in with the breakfast, and their eyes spoke more than their lips could have done; and philip sat down to his meal with less of sorrow and gloom upon his brow. "mynheer poots," 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 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 poots?" 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 a while 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 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 poots, 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." "o 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 rounding 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 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 poots 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! you know i love the very ground you tread upon, yet i dare not ask thee to wed to misery." "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, o 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, and 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 happiness 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. "'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? o! 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, your 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 amine poots and philip vanderdecken. chapter seven. 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 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 though 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 departure, 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-whispering sort of voice. the party who thus addressed amine was a little meagre personage, dressed in the garb of the dutch seaman of the 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 most 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 eye-lid 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 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 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! 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 hospitality: 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 little man 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 penetrate the fatal chamber--again was it obscure. the embroidery 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 was 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 arm; 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 prepared, and proud that he who is selected for such a task is my husband." amine paused. "you cannot, surely, have been mistaken, philip?" "no! amine, i have not been mistaken, either in the 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 teaze, 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 arm 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 is 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." "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 preparations 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 emotions 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 removed to its former station, i shall sit; and if you cannot appear to me alive, o refuse me not, if it be possible, to appear to me when dead. i shall fear no storm, no bursting open of the window. o no! i shall hail the presence even of your spirit. once more: let me but see you--let me be assured that you are dead--and then i shall know that i have 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, imprinted 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 eight. 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. 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 inquisition; 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 arrangements, and that it was infinitely better that a man should be burnt for half an hour in this world than for an eternity in the next. this slight difference of opinion was the occasion of a war which lasted about eighty years, and which, after having saved some hundreds of thousands the trouble of dying 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: they defended it by force. for a long time no private company ventured to oppose them, and the trade was not of that apparent value to induce any government 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 discover 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 pretensions. 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, , after a voyage which occupied him nearly three years; bringing home with him great riches, and having made most favourable arrangements with the king of the molucca islands. his success was followed up by cavendish and others, in . the english east india company, in the meanwhile, received their first charter from the government and had now been with various success carrying on the trade for upwards 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 productions 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 consequence was that, while asserting and fighting for their independence, they had also fitted out expeditions to india. they were successful; and in 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 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 ambassador, 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 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. however, in , 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 ter 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 ter schilling, which lay at single anchor, surrounded by the other vessels composing the indian fleet. the captain, whose name was kloots, 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 these who sail with me? i should think not, for i cannot join it but in death. did they surmise my wishes 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 accomplished? 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 complexion 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 by 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 implements 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 the breech. the sail abaft the mizzen-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 description) that the dangers of a long voyage were not a little increased 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 was 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 standing 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 eye, anxiously looking towards the town. mynheer kloots, as usual, had his pipe in his mouth, and the smoke which he puffed from it for 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 stockings, 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 quite straight) was, at the tip, fiery red from frequent application to his bottle of schnapps, and the heat of a small pipe which seldom left his lips, except for _him_ 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 hinderance to business; but they think otherwise 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 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." "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 careful 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 philip's brow. "i was once five years away, and was unfortunate, for i brought 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 of 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 discharge 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 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 janz von stroom, the supercargo of the honourable company, appointed to the good ship ter schilling. as he looked round him, surrounded at a respectful distance, 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 supercargo) was pulled with great violence. "what can that be?" said mynheer kloots (who was forward), taking the pipe out of his mouth. "mynheer vanderdecken, 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 table! o dear! o dear!" continued the supercargo, evidently 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 appearance of mynheer kloots put an end to his difficulty. "what is the matter, mynheer?" said the captain. "o! 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 soon 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! 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 a bear! mynheer kloots, the animal must be thrown overboard immediately." "nay, nay; i cannot throw overboard an animal that i hold in much affection, mynheer von stroom; but he shall not trouble you." "then, captain kloots, you will have to deal with the company, to whom i shall represent this 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 head and 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 head-quarters 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 supercargo: he had no wish to sail alone, and the fear of this contingency 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 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, mynheer kloots recovered his good humour. chapter nine. we 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 himself; 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 he 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 mean time, 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. 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 bestowing 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 this attempt philip started up and seized him by the waist. "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." "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 forward 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 quarterdeck, 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." "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?" "o! 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?" "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 confirmation. oh, 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 hottentot 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 instructions as to 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 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 topmast 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." 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. "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 informed 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 intelligence, 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 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 lord! 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 mean time 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 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, when he 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. this 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 entrance. 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, 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 variance 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." "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. "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 something 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 distant; but although it was a perfect calm, she was to all appearance buffeting in a violent gale, plunging and lifting over a surface that was smooth as glass, now careening to her bearing, 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 boatswain's pipes, the creaking of the ship's timbers, and the complaining 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_!" chapter ten. the sudden gloom which had succeeded to the pale light, had the effect of rendering every object still more indistinct 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 towards 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 damped 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 this sarcasm, but he could not; his tongue was tied. "what has the name of vanderdecken to do with it?" observed kloots. "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 schriften; "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 tonight. 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 earing 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 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 coverlid of his bed, and then he prayed--prayed until he had recovered his usual energy and courage, and 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 moanings, proclaimed too surely that it had been awakened up to wrath, and was gathering its strength for destruction. 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, mr hillebrant." the lightning now darted athwart the firmament, and the thunder pealed. "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 canvass was now taken off the ship, except the fore-staysail, 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 unfortunate--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 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 it 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 fail: his head was confused, 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 concussion 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 disappeared, 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 larboard 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 them 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, he 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 amid-ships, and hastened to join their companions and the ter schilling flew before the gale; 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 and 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 lamentable 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 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 crush 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 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 amid-ships, and he unwillingly abandoned the poor supercargo to his fate, and went out of the cabin door. at the after-hatchway he observed something struggling,--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 hardly 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 was making for the shore, and who soon dragged him clear 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 fragments 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 whirling, and all he demanded was repose. he walked away from the scene of destruction, and having found a sand-hill, behind which he was defended from the burning 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 something 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 assaguay in his hand, stood by his side; over his shoulder 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 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 sand-hills 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 produce, though not exactly what philip required, a small quantity of dirty water from a calabash, which, 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 exception 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 countenance, 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 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 hum. 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 out the lock and hinges to him, and then set off, followed by philip, across the sand-hills. in about an hour they arrived at the kraal, consisting of low huts covered with skins, and were met by the women and children, who appeared to be in high admiration at their chief's new attire: the 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 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 that he would take him there. philip drank plentifully from a bowl of milk brought him by one of the women, 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, he 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 found himself once more at anchor before the town of amsterdam. chapter eleven. 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 again 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 disk; at others, she would burst out in all 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 contemplation 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 permitted, 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 disk, and the dim light gave to his form, indistinctly 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 forehead with both hands, and again earnestly gazed on him. "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! o god! i thank thee," relied amine, at last. "i thought it was your spirit, philip. o! 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. "o 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; "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? o 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 down stairs, 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 well 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. o 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. "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 mynheer poots. "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 poots, 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 poots could only be led to suppose that he took 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 doctor believe that he had taken his wealth with him. mynheer poots did not renew the conversation, 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. "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 appearance of his father's ship, and the fatal wreck. amine felt that more dangers and difficulty were preparing 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 appearance 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 appointment to the batavia, a fine vessel of about 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 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 circumstance, 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 something which will do him good. i shall charge you nothing, philip--nothing at all." "i do not feel so very unwell, mynheer poots," replied philip; "i have 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 up stairs, accompanied by amine; and mynheer poots went into his own room to prepare the medicine. so soon as philip was in bed, amine went down stairs, 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 foreboding. 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 of mynheer poots, to be given in a tumbler of warm wine. mynheer poots 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 poots quitted the room, saying, "good night, my child." amine poured out the powder into one of the silver mugs on 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 poots 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 poots, whose hand trembled so that he spilt the wine on the coverlid. 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 poots then wished him good night. "do not leave him, amine, i will see all right," said mynheer poots, as he left the room. and amine, who had intended to go down for the candle left in the parlour, remained 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 could 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, that i 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 down stairs. 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 up stairs 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 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 apparently 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 righteousness hath punished him!" exclaimed amine; "but o! 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 up stairs, where 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 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 its 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 to 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!" 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?" "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 up stairs. 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 on 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 summoned 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. "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 he 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, rendered him of importance. had it been known that his creed (if he had any) was mahomedan, 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 writings, 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 amine, mournfully. "but here are some printed papers, philip!" philip examined them, and found that they were acknowledgments 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 everything was collected, the treasure appeared to be of great value. "amine, my love, you have indeed brought me an unexpected 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 penuriously were we 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 it 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, 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. 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--" "o, 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 their 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 twelve. philip had not been long on board, ere he found that they were not likely to have a very comfortable passage; for the batavia was chartered to convey a large detachment of troops to ceylon and java, for the purpose of recruiting and strengthening the company's forces at those places. she was to quit the fleet off 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 time 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 to 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 bye, 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 they die a little sooner, what matter? 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 fails to the ground without his knowledge, and it is for him to sacrifice or to save. i am but the creature of his will, and i but follow my duty,--but obey the commands 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 the batavia and the remainder of the fleet were ready for sea. it would be difficult to analyse the feelings of philip vanderdecken on this his second embarkation. his mind was so continually 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 his 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 embarked, 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 perceptible. 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 batavia 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 batavia 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 board the vessel that 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 meets, may be true, but not that i bring with me the disaster of meeting her. heaven, i thank thee! now can i prosecute my search without remorse." 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 waterline; 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 discharged." 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 situation. 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 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 time, 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 arms 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 in japan. he was returning to holland with the riches which he had 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 captain of the sunken vessel, after he had been sitting a short time in the cabin with philip and the captain of the batavia; "we saw the fiend or devil's ship, as they call her, but three days before." "what! the flying dutchman, as they name her?" asked 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 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 sight. 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, rubbing 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 speaking 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 in our ears like thunder, and then--" "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 prosecute 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 pleasing 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 discussion." "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?" "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 appearance 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 batavia 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 gangway 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 afterwards embarked for china, his original destination, but was not permitted to arrive there; he died on his passage, and thus closed his pure and holy life. after his death, notwithstanding the many obstacles thrown in our way by the priests of 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, the 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 baptised. 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 immediate 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 nobleman 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 , men, but of this the emperor was not aware, and he sent a force, of about , 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 , men. on the other hand, the emperor, perceiving that his troops had been destroyed, ordered new levies and raised a force of , 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 accommodation 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 , 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 , christians were destroyed; and all this slaughter, my son, was occasioned 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 in japan. he was a young man when he first went there, but his hair was grey when he thought of returning 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 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 continued 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 thirteen. "far 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 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 land, and death may not have spared even one so young and fair." "let us haste 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 pushing 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 which 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 tomb." father seysen then led philip to the side of the bed, and withdrew the curtain. amine 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 impetuous, 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 the physician and the 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?" "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 has 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 accompanied 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 disappointment, anxiety and grief, at finding her lying emaciated, changed, corrupted with disease--her mind overthrown-- her eyes unconscious of his presence--her existence hanging 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 impetuously 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 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 hot; 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 physician 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 awakes? 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. "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 will 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 prepared; 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 which direction, he met many with whom he had been acquainted, and from whom he had received condolence at his supposed bereavement, and congratulations when they learnt from him that the danger was over; and from them he also learnt how fatal had been the pestilence. not one-third of the inhabitants of terneuse and the surrounding country remained alive, and those who had recovered were in a state of exhaustion, which prevented them from returning to their accustomed occupations. they had combated 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 consequence 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 interposition. 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 all the facts connected with this strange history, so that we may ponder on them, and give you the benefit of 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," observed 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 that she must pass during your absence, and how much she must require the consolation and 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 bedside. 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 occurrence. 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 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 importance. we will admit that the whole 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 indirectly admit that it is the will of heaven that such sighs 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 permitted 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 appearance of the vessel may be permitted. so far we are justifiable 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 possibly 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 high, 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, and 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 supposing 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 yourself 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 mathias 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 may relieve him from his state of torture. at all events, if they decide for 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 seysen. on his return, philip went softly up stairs and entered the room of amine, whom he found awake and in conversation with the priests. the curtain was closed, and he was not perceived. 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 suspense 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 fourteen. six 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 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 perceived how often the cloud was upon his brow; she knew too well the cause, and constantly did she recommence her arguments and caresses, until philip forgot that there was aught but amine in the world. one morning, as they were seated upon a green bank, 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?" "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 your heart, and you _shall_." "i shall?" "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 never say that which is not. i tell you, that, if you choose, you shall dream upon it." "and to what good, amine? if you have power to make 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 i 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 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 dream, as the patriarchs were of old; but to use mystic or unholy charms to procure a vision, is making a compact with the devil." "which compact the evil 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 becomes my servant, and not my master; he is permitted by 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 i 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 ourselves 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 permitted 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; but 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." "then, amine, i have made my mind up--i will dream: for at present my mind is racked by contending and perplexing 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 stock. 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 reasonings, 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 philacteries that were once worn by the jewish nation, and were similarly applied. one of them she gently 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 a pear 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 off 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 mean time, 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 sentence. amine, too, tired with watching, slumbered, and was happy. father 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. "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 hath 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 collected 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 sown, an philip, fully aware 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, 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 were 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 life 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, and 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. "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. 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. i 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 i 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 this 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 _i_ 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." "i have: say, then, amine what may be your wish?" "o! 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 fifteen. 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 wait 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 for immediate employment, and, if possible, to have the command of a vessel, had, since that period, taken no further steps, nor had 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 decision 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 head, and, to his amazement, beheld the (supposed to be drowned) mate of the ter 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 i 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 schriften, "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 i 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?" 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, mournfully. "alas! 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 pangs; for i consider that i am, by partaking with, relieving you of a portion of your sorrow, and i am 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 katerina, 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 command 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 you may remember that i exacted a promise from you on this very bank 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 thing--that, dear philip, 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 i 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 incomprehensible. 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." "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 i will go with you. after your labours 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 evil eye, permitted for some cause to walk the earth in human form; 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--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 meditations, 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 reappearance 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. that 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 out the mystery,--a mystery which i acknowledge to 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 kindness, and stated his intention of returning to lisbon by the first opportunity that might offer. in a few days amine 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 vrow 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 in dort, had not yet arrived. so far as philip could judge, the vrow 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 could not have been taken up by the company if they had not been satisfied as to her seaworthiness. having given a few directions to the men who were on board, philip returned to the hostelrie 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 vrow 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. "oh! 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, apparently 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 supposition 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 appointment. "oh! you are the first mate of the vrow katerina 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 vrow 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 katerina. 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 receive on board 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 hostelrie, 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 convinced 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 i 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 hostelrie. 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." chapter sixteen. we must leave amine to her solitude, and follow the fortunes 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 vrow 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 vrow 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 vrow, 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 vrow katerina." "besides," observed philip, who perceived how anxious how 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 vrow katerina proved to sail even more slowly than before. "when we are so _very_ close-hauled," observed mynheer barentz, "the vrow 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 vrow 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 vrow 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 desperately in love he could see no fault in his mistress. but others were not so blind, and 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 vrow katerina found herself alone, labouring 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 vanderdecken, 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 canvass!" 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, flying jib, and every stitch of canvass which could be set in a light breeze. the waves were running mountains high, bearing each minute the vrow katerina down to the gunwale: and the ship seen appeared not to be affected by the tumultuous 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 katerina, 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 vrow katerina. it was madness 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 board 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 katerina," 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, 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 back." "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 barentz. "a mutiny on board of the vrow katerina? impossible! the vrow katerina! 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 time that he blamed the seamen for their panic, pointed out to him the necessity of compliance, and mynheer barentz at last consented. the helm was put up, the sails trimmed, and the vrow katerina 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 respite to the worn-out seamen, and also to the 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 that 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 concerning her: but of this, i assure you--that i am fully persuaded 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 a continuance of fine weather." "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 leant 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 not them 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 destroyed 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 embarked 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 by him. "by the heaven above us! vanderdecken, you have prophesied 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 mean time, 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 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 vrow katerina talking 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 appearance 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. "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. "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 excellent: 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 between 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 receive 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 hoses were 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 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 prevented 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 increased. the smoke and steam now burst through the interstices 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 melancholy 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 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 seamen 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 fur 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 apparently 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 main-mast 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. 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 forgotten. 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 seventeen. but their difficulties were not surmounted--the fire now had communicated to the main-deck and burst out of the port-holes amid-ships--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 mean time the fire was making rapid progress; the main-mast which had long been burning, fell over the side 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, notwithstanding 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. 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 re-appearing; but two-thirds of them were safely put on 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 unnecessary, 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 encircled 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 themselves 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) have 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 latteen mizen-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 was 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; 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 latteen 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 sunk 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 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 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 burn beautifully--nobly? my poor vrow 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 a 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 necessary for the preservation of so many individuals of whom more than sixty were women and children, who without any nourishment, 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 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 boat 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 could not, with all their exertions, advance more than half a mile an hour. until noon they continued their exertions not without success; 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 proportionably 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 near 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 recommenced a debate. the increased swell and 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, 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 waves, and that it had separated amidship. 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 themselves. the spars of the raft still close together, were 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, till 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 consultation, and were then glad to follow the example of the 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 heath 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 sand-hills, 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 was 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 resumed. so tired and exhausted were the men, that their 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. encouraged, however, by the sight of land which they knew, they rallied; and 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, tire,--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 satisfied the most 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 landed 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 considerate 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." "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 the 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 had an idea as the reader knows, that there was something supernatural about the man; and this opinion was corroborated 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 katerina. philip, krantz, and the seamen embarked; but captain barentz remained behind to settle at the cape. "should i go home," said he to philip, who argued with him, "i have nothing in the world to return for. i have no wife--no children. i had but one dear object, my vrow katerina, 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 burnt!--she went out of the world like a phoenix, as she was. no! no! i will be faithful to her--i 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 commission, 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 northward 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 contrary 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 to his wife, as well as his narrative of the loss of the vrow katerina 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 to wilhelmina, whom the admiral insisted on retaining; and the brig, having received the admiral's despatches, was then permitted to continue her voyage. perhaps there is nothing more trying to the seaman's feelings 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 unmanageable 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 commodore 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 vrow katerina, 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 captain; for by philip's narrative, the admiral perceived at once that they were both good officers and brave men. chapter eighteen. the 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 offered facilities which might shorten the passage to 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 pendant--to which philip was appointed; the zuyder zee of twenty; the young frau of twelve, and a ketch of four guns, called the schevelling. 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 avenhorn, 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 immediately 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 do, captain 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 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 now either adopt, or by refusing it be prevented from taking the steps so necessary for the preservation 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 returned 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 in 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 complying with the admiral's orders, as it would have been sacrificing 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. then anchored at the mouth of the river, and hoisted english colours, when a boat came on board to ask them who they 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 vegetables 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 assisting 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 company, 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 forwarding 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 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, as 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. fortunately, the weather was rough for the next two days, and it was not until the third that the governor made his appearance. 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 instantaneously checked, as the scurvy, if the remedy can be procured. 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 provisions 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 mean time, 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 a piece in that country), he resolved, as he could not help himself, to comply with the commodore's terms. 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 arrival, the admiral held a summary court-martial, proving to them by his instructions that he was so warranted 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 appointment of second in command, and the commodore's pendant, 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 the 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 _towns_. there they sat close together (the whole area 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 apparent 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 mean time the commodore remained in irons, and many were the conjectures 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 up on 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 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' useless struggle against the wind and currents, he hove to and ordered the captains on board, when he proposed that the prisoner should receive his punishment--and that punishment 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 advancement, 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 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 of 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 by 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, _may_ 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 dort 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 prisons 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 permitted him. when the boat's keel grazed the beach, ha was 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 commodore 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 ship, 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 terra del fuego: he was watching the man in the chains heaving the head, 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 discover; 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 for purpose to make a 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 proprietor, more interest than he has. well as he has thought proper to go ahead, i have nothing to do but to 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 the 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 understand this. ready about, and get a gun ready--they must suppose us to be ahead of them, depend up on 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 beheld 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, 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 extended 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 sea--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 presented 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." philip, turned round again to where the admiral's ship was on shore, and started back, as he beheld a sight even more dreadful 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 breathlessly 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 hung, 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 yardarm. "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 proceed. 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 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 dort. "he shall not go on board. we will stand by our captain to the last." "silence, men! silence!" cried philip. "you must be aware, sir," said he to the officer, "that in the cruel punishment 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 preserve 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 lengthened stay, no prospect of succour, and little of escape. as the commodore truly prophesied, many more are likely to perish as well as him--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 return 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 to gain from the men of the dort the true history of what they 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 judgment 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, or 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, an 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 them up, they refused to go upon deck; and the officers, who were equally disgusted with the admiral's conduct, 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 mean time, 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 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 circumstances 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, or did he wish to refuse 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 replenishing 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 his 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, although the men had clambered over the hills to a considerable 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 provisions; 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 krantz 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 communication 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 be in the straits, he fell in 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 six feet 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 intoxicated, 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 board. the bodies of the admiral and commodore were buried where they lay, and the next morning the dort was under weigh, and with a slanting wind was laying a fair course through the straits. chapter nineteen. 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 inhabitants on the beach, they had not fallen in with any vessels belonging to the spaniards. aware that if he met 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 anticipation 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 st. marie, where, though he knew it was in possession of the spaniards, he yet hoped to be able to procure refreshments 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 leant 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 xebeque, 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. that they themselves were among the passengers, and trusted that the vessel and cargo would be immediately released, 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 provisions, 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 four 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 livestock and vegetables, and the sum agreed upon for the ransom of the xebeque, 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; "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 xebeque 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 pretended two 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 learnt that some of the supposed casks of flour contained , 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 that 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 would 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 knowledge 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 intelligence 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 every 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 batavia, when a 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 off the gun, and, before he could be prevented, had buried his knife in the heart of the negro. "maldetto! 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 was from his information that they had 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 to the negro, and carried him off to the taffrail. there was a heavy plunge, and he disappeared under the eddying 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 fore-mast of the spanish frigate fell, carrying away with it the maintop-mast; and this accident impeded her firing. the dort immediately made sail, stood on to the corvette, which she crippled with three or four broadsides, then tacked, and fetched alongside of the frigate, whose lee guns were still impeded with the wreck of the foremast. the two vessels now lay head and stern, within ten feet of each other, and the action recommenced to the disadvantage of the spaniard. in a quarter of an hour the canvass, 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 together. then raged the conflict; the spaniards attempting to pass their grappling-chains so as to prevent the escape of their enemy, and the dutch endeavouring to frustrate their attempt. the chains and sides of hot vessels were crowded with men fighting 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 putting 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 beat 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 dort 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 would 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 in such a crippled state, and the nations were not actually at war, it would be advisable to release her with all 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 the 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 communicated 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 twenty. we must return to amine, who is seated on the mossy bank where she and philip conversed when they were interrupted 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 and 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 time to the instruction of 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 nature, 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 knowledge, 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 recall 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 forward 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 roof 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 i 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 on 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 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 opportunity 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 charms 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 directions 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 distinguished. "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 charm; but, as the figure became more distinct, she perceived that it was father mathias, who was looking at her 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 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 suspicious of father mathias, and he had crept up silently, and entered the room without her perceiving 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, "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 profession--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, why 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 unholy? 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 charms, father, i meant not what you mean; i simply would have said a remedy. if a knowledge of certain powerful herbs, which, properly combined, will form a specific to ease the suffering wretch--an art well known unto my mother, and which i now would fain recall--if that knowledge, or a wish to regain that knowledge, be unholy, then are you 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 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 closed, "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, and 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. "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 circumstance 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 twenty one. the 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 appearance, and amine was happy. the directors were, of course, highly satisfied with philip's conduct, and he was appointed to the command of a large armed ship, which was to proceed to india in the spring, one-third of which, according to agreement, was purchased by philip out of the funds which he had in the hands of the company. he had now five months of quiet and repose to pass away, previous to his once more trusting to the elements and this time, as it was agreed, he had to make arrangements on board for the reception of amine. 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 recover them." "why so, amine? this must not be. it is, as the good father said, `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 you 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 permits to one, he will to another; nay, ought that i can do is but with his permission." "yes, amine, so does he permit 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, am wrong to continue them; but i would but follow in the step 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 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 tons, newly launched, and pierced for twenty-four guns. two more months passed away, during which philip superintended the fitting and loading 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 determined 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 equipment of the vessel, which was perhaps the finest, the best manned, and freighted with the most valuable cargo, which had ever been sent out by the india company. the utrecht sailed with a flowing sheet, and was soon clear 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?" "in araby we do; and 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 you 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 amidst 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 frame 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 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 a 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 proceeded 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, and 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 squall, 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 retreated so as to make an opening, when philip and amine, to their astonishment and horror, recognised their old acquaintance, 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?" "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 must you have discontinued 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 if 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 mean time, 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 rather what this ship, affords. i long now to talk with him to see if i can produce any effect upon his ice-like 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 reported 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 anything 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 will go to your duty; till then, i will see that you want for nothing." "nor i, my good fellow. come to me if you do, and i will be your help," said amine. "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 times 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, looking 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 breathless 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--borne down 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 subservient, 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 inclined 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 ever working 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 power given to us, it is right to use it." "yes, most certainly, for good; but not 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 supernatural 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 calling 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 this, and the message sent by it, prove our creed is true?" "i have thought much of it, philip. at first it startled me almost into a belief; but even your own priests helped to undeceive 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-fiend; 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 required, 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 good-will." "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 knowledge?" "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 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 good-will 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 appeared 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 was it 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 husband? i feel that thou hast." "why think you so, lady?" "for many reasons: twice you have summoned him--twice 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 knew 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?" "i am not _his_ enemy, fair lady." "you are not his enemy?--why, then, did you 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 competence 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, pass 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 suffering--if you would be separated from him, and die a cruel death--then let him keep it. i can read futurity and such must be the destiny of both. lady, consider well; i 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 the 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 offers 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 our 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 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 promised 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, my all, 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 conversation 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--as 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. chapter twenty two. the 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 convulsion 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 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 foresail, 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 in 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 atmosphere was of a murky 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 lost in one dark grey mist. the storm-stay-sail, 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 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 that 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 ready to catch at the ropes of the other vessel, and climb on board of her. amine, who had been surprised 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 utrecht,--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 passed 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 astounded by the marvellous 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 way through; she beheld the seamen on board of her coolly leaning over the gunwale, as if deriding the destruction they had occasioned; she looked for vanderdecken 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 suddenly--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 appeared 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 twenty three. "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, mournfully; "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 my self; 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 feel ashamed of amine. no, philip, you will have no wailing; no expression of despair from amine'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 prepare 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 bewildered--he had not forgotten the appearance of the phantom ship off desolation harbour, and the vessels following her 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 seamen. "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, 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 tearful, 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 days 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, he 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 had been awakened by the same cause, running up undressed. another shock succeeded, and the ship careened to port. philip then knew that the ship was on shore. the thickness of the night prevented them from ascertaining where the 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 further 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 starboard bow, but this did not appear to prevent the vessel from being swept further 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 further 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 water 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 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 everything 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 perceived that they were swept further on the bank. night came on before they quitted their toil, and then a fresh breeze sprung up and created a swell, which occasioned the vessel to heat 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 which 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 top-sails were struck, the yards lowered down, and the raft was commenced 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 robes, 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 on board, which it was folly to leave, and that they wished to carry as much as they could away with them. as this intimation 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 had 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 resolve not to decide as yet, but wait and see what might occur. in the mean time, 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 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, therefore, 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 uninhabited 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 langridge which she poured upon, them wounded 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's 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 to sash through the air; a moment afterwards he lunged 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 immediately gave chase to the boats. the sweeps were now out and the proa flew over the smooth water, like a sea-bird, passed 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. 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 consultation 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 boat 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 embarked 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, now that it had length, than it would do if they reduced its dimensions 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 sprung 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 trees 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 use 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 everyone 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 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 mean time 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 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 remaining stock of water; they then sat down at the upper end of the raft with gloomy, 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 amine's secure retreat had been erected; he leant 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 it is 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." philip drank; it did relieve him, for the excitement of the day had 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 privation 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 on 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 twenty four. 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 her 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 us. "yes," replied he, "revenge!--revenge upon these 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, increased 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 relied 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 they could divide between themselves the money which the others had secured, and by which they would double their 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 soon 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 council, 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 oneself, and adoration of the deity; and here, on's 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 amine. as philip had expected, many had been covered up and entangled by the falling of the sail, and their work was thereby made easier. some fell where they stood: others reeled back, and sunk 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 revenged, 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, be 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 would have been 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, and they shared out the portions of water, which would have been the allowance of their companions 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 good will 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 anything else. the breeze now freshened, and they expected that in two hours, they would run on the beach, but they were disappointed; the step of the mast gave 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 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 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 twenty five. what pen could portray the feelings of the fond and doting amine, when she first discovered that she was separated from her husband? in a state of bewilderment, she watched the other raft as the distance between them increased. 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 guardful of life for my dear husband's sake." and amine threw herself on her resting-place that she might forget every thing. she did: from that morning till the noon of the next day she remained in a state of torpor. 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 good-will! 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 practised: 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 willis 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 the 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 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 splendour--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; she 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 twenty six. we 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 difficulty. the beach was shelving, of firm white sand, interspersed 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 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 only of krantz; for philip thought of nothing but his lost wife, and the seamen thought of nothing but of 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 something, 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 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 or 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, exhausted, pining for water, 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 were 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 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 composed 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 men. 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 which might save their lives. he proposed to them each 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 whenever 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 proposed and acted upon was, to construct 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 manageable 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 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 thrown their weapons into the sea, and those he had saved, as well as the ammunition, he had secreted. blows and bloodshed, therefore, were continual, 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 themselves, 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 morning 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. "in the death of all," replied krantz. "we cannot prevent 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 perceived 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 passed through his body. "said i not so? but the treacherous villain shall not reap his reward," continued krantz, levelling the musket which he 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, without the means of obtaining his subsistence, he must have perished miserably and by inches, with all his money round him; that would have been torture indeed!" "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. tomorrow 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 twenty seven. the 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 seeking 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 they soon ran down it close to the beach. philip's eyes wandered in every direction to ascertain whether anything on the shore 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 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," 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 mind and a weakened body. can anything be more absurd than 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 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 acquainted with. "now you know all," said philip, with a deep sigh, as the narrative was concluded. "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 your 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 your doom on my own shoulders, were it only possible. is it not a splendid thought that you are summoned to so great a 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 hardships and dangers of a maritime life. if it ends in your death, what then? where else ends our futile cravings, our continual 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 permitted. 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! what 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 peroquas 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 addressed 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 portuguese, 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 tidore 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.--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 dress was to a certain degree mahometan, 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 now 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 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," replied 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 requested," thought philip. in the mean time, 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 twenty eight. when 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 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 interfered 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 countrywomen had been thrown on shore 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 intercourse 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, carefully 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, was 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 amine was able in the course of three weeks, to 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 was 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 preferable 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 day 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 long compliment to her in portuguese, and was astonished that she did not make a 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 every 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 i 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 proceed 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 suffering to philip. the commandant, fully 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 twenty nine. 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 to 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. it would be difficult to analyse the feelings of father mathias towards amine--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 _now_ 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. 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." amine made no answer. "thou art still 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; and 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 dismissed, and the prejudices of early years at once eradicated? i have thought much of what you have told me--have felt that much is true--that the tenets of your creed are 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 to and adore." notwithstanding this taunt at the close of this speech, there was so much truth in the observations of amine, that father mathias felt their power. as the wife of a catholic he had been accustomed to view amine as one who had backslided from the church of rome--not as one who had been brought up in another creed. he now recalled to mind that she had never yet been received into the church, for father seysen had not considered her as in a proper state to be admitted, and had deferred her baptism until he was satisfied of her full belief. "you speak boldly; but you speak as you feel, my child," replied father mathias, after a pause. "we will, when we arrive at goa, talk over these things, and, with the blessing of god, the new faith shall be made manifest to you." "so be it," replied amine. little did the priest imagine that amine's thoughts were at that moment upon a dream she had had at new guinea, in which her mother appeared, and revealed to her her magic arts, and that amine was longing to arrive at goa that she might practise them. every hour the gale increased, and the vessel laboured and leaked. the portuguese sailors were frightened, and invoked their saints. father mathias and the other passengers gave themselves up for lost, for the pumps could not keep the vessel free; and their cheeks blanched as the waves washed furiously over the vessel: they prayed and trembled. father mathias gave them absolution. some cried like children, some tore their hair, some cursed, and cursed the saints they had but the day before invoked. but amine stood unmoved; and as she heard them curse, she smiled in scorn. "my child," said father mathias, checking his tremulous voice, that he might not appear agitated before one whom he saw so calm and unmoved amidst the roaring of the elements--"my child, let not this hour of peril pass away. before thou art summoned, let me receive thee into the bosom of our church--give thee pardon for thy sins, and certainty of bliss hereafter." "good father, amine is not to be frightened into belief, even if she feared the storm," replied she; "nor will she credit your power to forgive her sins merely because she says in fear that which in her calm reason she might reject. if ever fear could have subjected me, it was when i was alone upon the raft--that was, indeed a trial of my strength of mind, the bare recollection of which is, at this moment, more dreadful than the storm now raging, and the death which may await us. there is a god on high in whose mercy i trust--in whose love i confide-- to whose will i bow. let him do his will." "die not, my child, in unbelief." "father," replied amine, pointing to the passengers and seamen, who were on the deck crying and wailing, "these are christians--these men have been promised by you, but now, the inheritance of perfect bliss. what is their faith, that it does not give them strength to die like men? why is it that a woman quails not, while they lie grovelling on the deck?" "life is sweet, my child--they leave their wives, their children, and they dread hereafter. who is prepared to die?" "i am," replied amine. "i have no husband--at least, i fear i have no husband. for me life has no sweets; yet, one little hope remains--a straw to the sinking wretch. i fear not death, for i have nought to live for. were philip here, why, then indeed--but he is gone before me, and now, to follow him is all i ask." "he died in the faith, my child--if you would meet him, do the same." "he never died like these," replied amine, looking with scorn at the passengers. "perhaps he lived not as they have lived," replied father mathias. "a good man dies in peace, and hath no fear." "so die the good men of all creeds, father," replied amine; "and in all creeds death is equally terrible to the wicked." "i will pray for thee, my child," said father mathias, sinking on his knees. "many thanks--thy prayers will be heard, even though offered for one like me," replied amine, who, clinging to the man-ropes, made her way up to the ladder, and gained the deck. "lost! signora, lost!" exclaimed the captain, wringing his hands as he crouched under the bulwark. "no!" replied amine, who had gained the weather side, and held on by a rope; "not lost this time." "how say you, signora?" replied the captain, looking with admiration at amine's calm and composed countenance. "how say you, signora?" "something tells me, good captain, that you will not be lost if you exert yourselves--something tells it to me here," and amine laid her hand to her heart. amine had a conviction that the vessel would not be lost, for it had not escaped her observation that the storm was less violent, although, in their terror, this had been unnoticed by the sailors. the coolness of amine, her beauty, perhaps, the unusual sight of a woman so young, calm and confiding, when all others were in despair, had its due effect upon the captain and sea men. supposing her to be a catholic, they imagined that she had had some warrant for her assertion, for credulity and superstition are close friends. they looked upon amine with admiration and respect, recovered their energies, and applied to their duties. the pumps were again worked; the storm abated during the night, and the vessel was, as amine had predicted, saved. the crew and passengers looked upon her almost as a saint, and talked of her to father mathias, who was sadly perplexed. the courage which she had displayed was extraordinary; even when he trembled, she showed no sign of fear. he made no reply, but communed with his own mind, and the result was unfavourable to amine. what had given her such coolness? what had given her the spirit of prophecy? not the god of the christians, for she was no believer. who then? and father mathias thought of her chamber at terneuse, and shook his head. chapter thirty. we must now again return to philip and krantz, who had a long conversation upon the strange reappearance of schriften. all that they could agree upon was, that he should be carefully watched, and that they should dispense with his company as soon as possible. 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 seeing the peroqua he had once more launched it, and supported 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 schriften. 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 demanded 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 sarcasm, 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 palmetto 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 was the constant theme of remark of philip and krantz; their religion, as well as their dress, appeared to be a compound of the mahometan 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 ornament. 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 mahometan custom, they were requested to be seated; and through the portuguese interpreters--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 had been wrecked. philip entered into a short detail, in which he stated that his wife had been separated from him, and was, he understood, in the hands of the portuguese factory 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 understand 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 command--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 mahometan dresses, with turbans. these were welcome, for their own garments were sadly 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 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 extending 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 creeses. 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 proportionate 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 reduction 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 appeared rather to 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 port 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 palisades 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 at 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 well be perceived, as it was hidden by the high palisading which surrounded 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 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 following 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 palisades 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 creeses, 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 increased, 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 ramparts 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 intrenchment, and with their scimitars and creeses put to death all who had been so unfortunate as not to take refuge in the citadel. these were chiefly native servants, whom the attack had surprised, and for whose lives the portuguese seemed to care but little, for they paid no attention 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 intrenchment, 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 expedition unknown to philip, made his appearance. "that won't do; you'll never take that fort, philip vanderdecken. 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 the 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 gunpowder 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 confused, 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 consultation 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 sprung 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 increased to a gale, and before they were clear of the n.e. 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 lowered, 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 supported 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 by nightfall. they were ushered into the presence of the commandant, 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 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 examination. chapter thirty one. 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 yet get away by bribing." "and i was thinking," rejoined 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?" "yes, indeed! signor." "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 ten of our own people. in the factory there were about a hundred of the natives, with some women and children; 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. "where did you get those dresses?" was the first interrogatory. "the natives, when they brought us prisoners from the island on which we had 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 of 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 a drift." "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 sign 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 home to holland we might get into trouble. may i ask, signor commandant, why you wish for such 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 which 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 incarceration; 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 then 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." "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 toward the sea, and leant over the battlements in silence; after some time their reveries were disturbed by a person coming up to them with a "_buenos noctes, signor_." 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, signor, and i'm tired of it. i have a wife and children in oporto--that is, i _had_--but whether they are alive or not, who can tell?" "do you not expect to return and see them?" "return--signor! no portuguese soldier like me ever returns. we are enlisted for five years, and we lay our bones here." "that is hard indeed." "hard, signor," 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, signors," 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. "yes, signor, 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?" "yes, in a ship which called here. she must have been very glad to have got away, for our little commandant persecuted her all day long, and she evidently was grieving for her husband. do you know, signors, 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; recollect, 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 has 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 power of your enemy. we must leave this place as quick 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 death would not occasion amine to marry this withered piece of mortality." "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 vantreat--recollect that." "agreed," replied philip, who then turned away, as if willing to be left to his own thoughts. krantz perceived it, and lay down under the embrasure, and was soon fast asleep. chapter thirty two. tired 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 upon the pavement. he rose, and found the little man rating the soldiers--threatening 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 apartment. 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 the 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 partake 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 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 them 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 consequences of philip's indiscretion, "for had you seen, commandant, how that woman doated 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 has 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 flattery, 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 protections and where can they be better assured of it, than with a man who wears a sword at his thigh?--come, signors we will drink her health. here's to the beautiful amine vanderdecken." "to the beautiful amine vanderdecken!" cried krantz, tossing off his wine. "to the beautiful amine vanderdecken," followed philip. "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 doats upon me." "liar!" exclaimed philip. "how, signor! is that addressed to me?" cried the commandant, seizing his sword, which lay on the table. "no, no," replied philip, recovering himself; "it was addressed 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 otherwise 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 commandant, 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." "you are right, and i beg her pardon for allowing such feelings or thoughts to have for one 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 the conversation upon his love for amine and entering into a minute detail of all that had passed. krantz perceived that he was right in his opinion, and that amine 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 unintelligible. "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 very 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 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." "one of the noblest families?" replied the commandant;--"then he is under an assumed name--jacob vancheat 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 dare say 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." "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 commission. 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 astonishment 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 commandant, informed him that a dutch sailor had arrived at 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 sailor was ordered in, and in a few minutes, who should make his appearance but their tormentor, the one-eyed schriften. on perceiving philip and krantz seated at the table, he immediately 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 sprung 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. mynheer? 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 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 intelligent glance, as they descended the stairs to the dungeon. it was that of the soldier pedro. it told them that there 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 them in their dungeon. chapter thirty three. "thus are all our hopes wrecked," said philip, mournfully; "what chance have we now of escaping from this little tyrant?" "chances turn up," replied krantz; "at present, the prospect 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, much 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 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 disappearance 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," observed 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, signors, 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?" "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 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 propose, 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, signor?" "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, signor." "he is gone--vanished--not to be found!" "i thought as much," replied philip, significantly. "he is gone--vanished--you say. then, commandant, you will probably apologise to this noble gentleman for your treatment 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 at liberty; "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 treatment of him." the commandant went out, leaving the door open. philip and krantz followed: the former retiring to his own apartment; 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 partly not, commandant. when we first came here, not knowing what treatment 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 generally 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 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 contrary, 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 approaching, 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 portuguese 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 my noble friend, and when he went to bed the first night 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 had come 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 referred 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 raft, 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?" "there is." "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. "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 thirty four. it was a bright morning when the portuguese vessel on which amine was on board entered into the bay and roadstead of goa. goa was 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 amine 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 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 barefooted carmelites; yon lofty spire 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 kindness with which the old man spoke melted amine to 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 persuasions, than a really pious christian, who 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 story 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, from the proud portuguese to the half-covered native; mussulmans, 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 subsequent 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 expressing a wish to be alone, she was followed into her 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 dominions, 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; licences were given--greater licences were taken--and amine, to her surprise, found that in this society, devoted to heaven, there were exhibited 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 will call upon you to-morrow 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 interview 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 apartments, 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 apartments fronting the square, airy and commodious. the landlady, 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-morrow, if you please." "and that massive building in face of us?" "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 intelligent, and amine, for her own reasons, did everything she could to make friends with him, and was successful. chapter thirty five. amine 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, entered 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 me." "nay, i have nothing to tell, but i wish to do something: 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 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 chaunted:-- "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 vanderdecken, appear.'" "philip vanderdecken appear!" responded the boy, trembling. "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 trowsers--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)." "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 was gone out pedro came in and asked amine "whether they should not have the play ever 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. eaves-dropping 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 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 building 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 thirty six. previous 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 officers attached to the establishment. 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 particular occasions no priests are allowed to enter. any consolation 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 execution of their sentence is passed upon their remains. there are two inquisitors at goa: one the grand inquisitor, 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 description 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 the 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 inquisition, 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 his own. the chief crimes which are noticed by the inquisition are those 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 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 contradistinction 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-fe_, or act of faith, which takes place every 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 acknowledge his guilt. he persists in his innocence; they then pass a sentence on him, which they term _convicte 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 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! now 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 ceremonies, 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 impartial 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 baptised and were afterwards convicted of any crime, they were sentenced to the punishment by fire; whereas if they had not been baptised, they were only punished by whipping, imprisonment, or the galleys; upon this ground alone many refused 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. chapter thirty seven. a few hours after amine had been in the dungeon, the jailors 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 jailors 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 had 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 jailor 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." "where is it?" "in the custody of father mathias." "are you aware why you are brought here?" "how should i be?" replied amine, evasively; "tell me what i am accused of?" "you must know whether you have done wrong or not. you had better confess all your conscience accuses you of." "my conscience does not accuse me of doing anything." "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 baptised?" "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 towards 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 jailors 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 our 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. amine, at the time we have specified, was again introduced to the hall of justice, and was again asked if she would confess. 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 mean time, father mathias had had several conferences with the inquisitor. although in his wrath he had accused amine, and had procured 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 faiths, 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. this is not a dungeon from which people can escape so easily." "then tell me what have you to say; and what is it must be done?" "i will." "but stop; before you say one word, answer 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?" "why 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 baptised, you must now become a member, or be supposed 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 can 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--" "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 not--" "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 the likeness." "it was my mother. again you ask me to say that i believe that which i cannot." "that which you cannot! 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 for my philip." "amine vanderdecken, if you will confess your crime before 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 therefore must be--it is my destiny--i cannot save myself. if i confess then, i confess that philip is wedded to a sorceress, 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 hear all, for my dear philip's sake." the next evening, father mathias again made his appearance. he found amine calm and collected: she refused to listen to his advice or follow his injunctions. his last observation, 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 practising 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 participator and equally guilty?" "he is," replied the inquisitor, anxiously awaiting the result. "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-fe_, 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 thirty eight. _we_ 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, and the fabulous tale which he had invented to deceive the commandant. "i said that you alone knew where the treasure was concealed," 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 with me, my friend: i feel that, should i part with you, happiness would no longer be in store for me." "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 possible, 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 rashness 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 mean time 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, signor, be restored to your wife, whose charms had such an effect upon me; and for mention of whose name in the very unceremonious manner which i did, i must excuse myself upon the ground of total ignorance 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 subject?" observed krantz. "i see no reason, if my friend goes accompanied within 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 it will be open to view, and will meet the eyes of your men; 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, and long before krantz had finished speaking, he had resolved to go himself. "well, signors," 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 stimulating them to insubordination." "true, signor," we will have two vessels; "your advice is good." everything was thus satisfactorily arranged, with the exception 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 embarked--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 excited, when it was understood that those who composed the expedition were to be sacrificed to the avarice of the commandant. the weather being fine they sailed on during the night; passed the island of ternate at ten leagues' distance; and before morning were among the cluster of isles, the southernmost of which was the one on which the treasure 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 had re-embarked. that they would despatch the commandant, and then proceed to batavia, and from thence obtain a passage home to europe. "cannot 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 other 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 they handed, and all retired to rest, the commandant dreaming of wealth and revenge; while it was arranging 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 commandant the notched cocoa-nut tree, which served as a guide to the spot where the money had been concealed. they landed on the 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 was but so much _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 removed 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, and 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." "signors, 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 burying 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 thirty nine. 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 immediately in one of the peroquas, and leave them to settle their disputes as they pleased. he asked permission of the soldiers to 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," observed 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 that spot, it should be the `_accursed isle_.'" "would not any other be the same, with so much to inflame the passions of men?" "assuredly: what a curse is gold!" "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 these 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 any, 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; unless, 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 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've often thought of doing so, but one circumstance or another has hitherto prevented me; this is, however, a fitting opportunity. prepare, therefore, to listen to a strange story, quite as strange, perhaps, 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 lawfulness 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 permitted to interfere with us, and punish, i may say, comparatively 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?" 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 oppress man, there surely 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 propensities 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 the 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. the evidence of my mother's shame was positive; he surprised 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 transpired. 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 mountains. 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 in doors, for, as my father followed the chase, we were left alone, and the wolves, during that season, incessantly 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 neighbouring 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 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 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 nut 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, therefore, 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. children, however, when left 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 and savage sort of life until my brother caesar was nine, myself seven, and my sister five years old, 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 the 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 with the fire, which both my brother and i had deserted when my 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 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 marcella 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 or 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 and 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, 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 meat 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, ushering 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 forests 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 disregarded 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 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 satisfied 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 refreshment, 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 which he could afford them. "`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,' observed 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?' observed 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; but marcella would not come near her; on the contrary, she 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 upon the table. when it was over, my father requested that the young lady would take possession of his 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 kinsman. 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 the german fashion. the conversation was 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. oh! brother, i cannot bear to look upon that woman--i 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 huntsman 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, conversing in a low tone by the fire. i ought to have mentioned 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 consultation 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?' "`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 are 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 interruption appeared to discompose the party, particularly my father; he spoke harshly to the child, who controlled her sobs, burying her face under the bed-clothes. "such was the second marriage of my father. the next 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, close 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 would often furtively put a raw piece into her mouth. "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 and i endeavoured to dissuade him from this 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 approached 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 hatched our mother-in-law. she changed her linen, and threw the garments she had worn into the fire; and we then perceived that her right leg was bleeding profusely, as if from a gun-shot wound. she bandaged it up, and then dressing herself, 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 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 perceived 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 remain 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. "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 hid 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 regularity 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--perdition 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 remnants of my poor brother which the wolves had spared. such was the first act of the tragedy. "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 decrease 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 disappeared 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!' said she, `it must have been that great white wolf which passed me just now, and frightened me so. she's quite dead, krantz.' "`i know it--i know it!' cried my father, in agony. "i thought my father would never recover from the effects of this second tragedy; he mourned bitterly over the body of his sweet child, and for several days would not consign it to its grave, although frequently requested by my mother-in-law to do so. at last he yielded, and dug a grave for her close by that of my poor brother, and took every precaution that the wolves should not violate her remains. "i was now really miserable, as i lay alone in the bed which i had formerly shared with my brother and sister. i could not help thinking that my mother-in-law was implicated in both their deaths, although i could not account for the manner; but i no longer felt afraid of her; my little heart was full of hatred and revenge. "the night after my sister had been buried, as i lay awake, i perceived my mother-in-law get up and go out of the cottage. i waited some time, then dressed myself, and looked out through the door, which i half opened. the moon shone bright and i could see the spot where my brother and my sister had been buried; and what was my horror when i perceived my mother-in-law busily removing the stones from marcella's grave! "she was in her white night-dress and the moon shone full upon her. she was digging with her hands, and throwing away the stones behind her with all the ferocity of a wild beast. it was some time before i could collect my senses, and decide what i should do. at last i perceived that she had arrived at the body, and raised it up to the side of the grave. i could bear it no longer, i ran to my father and awoke him. "`father, father!' cried i, `dress yourself, and get your gun.' "`what!' cried my father, `the wolves are there, are they?' "he jumped out of bed, threw on his clothes, and, in his anxiety, did not appear to perceive the absence of his wife. as soon as he was ready i opened the door; he went out, and i followed him. "imagine his horror, when (unprepared as he was for such a sight) he beheld, as he advanced towards the grave not a wolf, but his wife, in her night-dress, on her hands and knees, crouching by the body of my sister, and tearing off large pieces of the flesh, and devouring them with all the avidity of a wolf. she was too busy to be aware of our approach. my father dropped his gun; his hair stood on end, so did mine; he breathed heavily, and then his breath for a time stopped. i picked up the gun and put it into his hand. suddenly he appeared as if concentrated rage had restored him to double vigour; he levelled his piece, fired, and with a loud shriek down fell the wretch whom he had fostered in his bosom. "`god of heaven!' cried my father, sinking down upon the earth in a swoon, as soon as he had discharged his gun. "i remained some time by his side before he recovered. `where am i?' said he, `what has happened? oh!--yes, yes! i recollect now. heaven forgive me!' "he rose and we walked up to the grave; what again was our astonishment and horror to find that, instead of the dead body of my mother-in-law, as we expected, there was lying over the remains of my poor sister, a large white she-wolf. "`the white wolf!' exclaimed my father, `the white wolf which decoyed me into the forest--i see it all now--i have dealt with the spirits of the hartz mountains.' "for some time my father remained in silence and deep thought. he then carefully lifted up the body of my sister, replaced it in the grave, an covered it over as before, having struck the head of the dead animal with the heel of his boot, and raving like a madman. he walked back to the cottage, shut the door, and threw himself on the bed; i did the same, for i was in a stupor of amazement. "early in the morning we were both roused by a loud knocking at the door, and in rushed the hunter wilfred. "`my daughter--man--my daughter!--where is my daughter?' cried he in a rage. "`where the wretch, the fiend, should be, i trust,' replied my father, starting up, and displaying equal choler; `where she should be--in hell! leave this cottage, or you may fare worse.' "`ha--ha!' replied the hunter, `would you harm a potent spirit of the hartz mountains. poor mortal, who must needs wed a were wolf.' "`out, demon! i defy thee and thy power.' "`yet shall you feel it; remember your oath--your solemn oath--never to raise your hand against her to harm her.' "`i made no compact with evil spirits.' "`you did, and if you failed in your vow, you were to meet the vengeance of the spirits. your children were to perish by the vulture, the wolf--' "`out, out, demon!' "`and their bones blanch in the wilderness. ha!--ha!' "my father, frantic with rage, seized his axe, and raised it over wilfred's head to strike. "`all this i swear,' continued the huntsman, mockingly. "the axe descended; but it passed through the form of the hunter, and my father lost his balance, and tell heavily on the floor. "`mortal!' said the hunter, striding over my father's body, `we have power over those only who have committed murder. you have been guilty of a double murder: you shall pay the penalty attached to your marriage vow. two of your children are gone, the third is yet to follow--and follow them he will, for your oath is registered. go--it were kindness to kill thee--your punishment is, that you live!' "with these words the spirit disappeared. my father rose from the floor, embraced me tenderly, and knelt down in prayer. "the next morning he quitted the cottage for ever. he took me with him, and bent his steps to holland, where we safely arrived. he had some little money with him; but he had not been many days in amsterdam before he was seized with a brain fever, and died raving mad. i was put into the asylum, and afterwards was sent to sea before the mast. you now know all my history. the question is, whether i am to pay the penalty of my father's oath? i am myself perfectly convinced that, in some way or another, i shall." on the twenty-second day the high land of the south of sumatra was in view: as there were no vessels in sight, they resolved to keep their course through the straits, and run for pulo penang, which they expected, as their vessel lay so close to the wind, to reach in seven or eight days. by constant exposure philip and krantz were now so bronzed that with their long beards and mussulman dresses, they might easily have passed off for natives. they had steered the whole of the days exposed to a burning sun; they had lain down and slept in the dew of the night; but their health had not suffered. but for several days, since he had confided the history of his family to philip, krantz had become silent and melancholy: his usual flow of spirits had vanished and philip had often questioned him as to the cause. as they entered the straits, philip talked of what they should do upon their arrival at goa; when krantz gravely replied, "for some days, philip, i have had a presentiment that i shall never see that city." "you are out of health, krantz," replied philip. "no, i am in sound health, body and mind. i have endeavoured to shake off the presentiment, but in vain; there is a warning voice that continually tells me that i shall not be long with you. philip, will you oblige me by making me content on one point? i have gold about my person which may be useful to you; oblige me by taking it, and securing it on your own." "what nonsense, krantz." "it is no nonsense, philip. have on not had your warnings? why should i not have mine? you know that i have little fear in my composition, and that i care not about death; but i feel the presentiment which i speak of more strongly every hour. it is some kind spirit who would warn me to prepare for another world. be it so. i have lived long enough in this world to leave it without regret; although to part with you and amine, the only two now dear to me, is painful, i acknowledge." "may not this arise from over-exertion and fatigue, krantz? consider how much excitement you have laboured under within these last four months. is not that enough to create a corresponding depression? depend upon it, my dear friend, such is the fact." "i wish it were; but i feel otherwise, and there is a feeling of gladness connected with the idea that i am to leave this world arising from another presentiment, which equally occupies my mind." "i hardly can tell you--but amine and you are connected with it. in my dreams i have seen you meet again; but it has appeared to me as if a portion of your trial was purposely shut from my sight in dark clouds; and i have asked, `may not i see what is there concealed?'--and an invisible has answered, `no! 'twould make you wretched. before these trials take place, you will be summoned away:' and then i have thanked heaven, and felt resigned." "these are the imaginings of a disturbed brain, krantz; that i am destined to suffering may be true; but why amine should suffer, or why you, young, in full health and vigour should not pass your days in peace, and live to a good old age, there is no cause for believing. you will be better tomorrow." "perhaps so," replied krantz; "but still you must yield to my whim, and take the gold; if i am wrong, and we do arrive safe, you know, philip, you can let me have it back," observed krantz, with a faint smile--"but you forget, our water is nearly out, and we must look out for a rill on the coast to obtain a fresh supply." "i was thinking of that when you commenced this unwelcome topic. we had better look out for the water before dark, and as soon as we have replenished our jars, we will make sail again." at the time that this conversation took place, they were on the eastern side of the strait, about forty miles to the northward. the interior of the coast was rocky and mountainous; but it slowly descended to low land of alternate forest and jungles, which continued to the beach: the country appeared to be uninhabited. keeping close in to the shore, they discovered, after two hours' run, a fresh stream which burst in a cascade from the mountains, and swept its devious course through the jungle, until it poured its tribute into the waters of the strait. they ran close in to the mouth of the stream, lowered the sails, and pulled the peroqua against the current, until they had advanced far enough to assure them that the water was quite fresh. the jars were soon filled, and they were again thinking of pushing off; when, enticed by the beauty of the spot, the coolness of the fresh water, and wearied with their long confinement on board of the peroqua, they proposed to bathe--a luxury hardly to be appreciated by those who have not been in a similar situation. they threw off their mussulman dresses, and plunged into the stream, where they remained for some time. krantz was the first to get out: he complained of feeling chilled, and he walked on to the banks where their clothes had been laid. philip also approached nearer to the beach intending to follow him. "and now, philip," said krantz, "this will be a good opportunity for me to give you the money. i will open my sash and pour it out, and you can put it into your own before you put it on." philip was standing in the water, which was about level with his waist. "well, krantz," said he, "i suppose if it must be so, it must--but it appears to me an idea so ridiculous--however, you shall have your own way." philip quitted the run, and sat down by krantz, who was already busy in shaking the doubloons out of the folds of his sash. at last he said-- "i believe, philip, you have got them all now?--i feel satisfied." "what danger there can be to you, which i am not equally exposed to, i cannot conceive," replied philip; "however--" hardly had he said these words, when there was a tremendous roar--a rush like a mighty wind through the air--a blow which threw him on his back-- a loud cry--and a contention. philip recovered himself, and perceived the naked form of krantz carried off with the speed of an arrow by an enormous tiger through the jungle. he watched with distended eyeballs; in a few seconds the animal and krantz had disappeared! "god of heaven! would that thou hadst spared me this," cried philip, throwing himself down in agony on his face. "oh! krantz, my friend--my brother--too sure was your presentiment. merciful god! have pity--but thy will be done;" and philip burst into a flood of tears. for more than an hour did he remain fixed upon the spot, careless and indifferent to the danger by which he was surrounded. at last, somewhat recovered, he rose, dressed himself, and then again sat down--his eyes fixed upon the clothes of krantz, and the gold which a on the sand. "he would give me that gold. he foretold his doom. yes! yes! it was his destiny, and it has been fulfilled. _his bones will bleach in the wilderness_, and the spirit-hunter and his wolfish daughter are avenged." the shades of evening now set in, and the low growling of the beasts of the forest recalled philip to a sense of his own danger. he thought of amine; and hastily making the clothes of krantz and the doubloons into a package, he stepped into the peroqua, with difficulty shoved it off, and with a melancholy heart, and in silence, hoisted the sail, and pursued his course. "yes, amine," thought philip, as he watched the stars twinkling and coruscating; "yes, you are right, when you assert that the destinies of men are foreknown, and may by some be read. my destiny is, alas! that i should be severed from all i value upon earth? and die friendless and alone. then welcome death, if such is to be the case; welcome--a thousand welcomes! what a relief wilt thou be to me! what joy to find myself summoned to where the weary are at rest! i have my task to fulfil. god grant that it may soon be accomplished, and let not my life be embittered by any more trials such as this." again did philip weep, for krantz had been his long-tried, valued friend? his partner in all his dangers and privations, from the period that they had met when the dutch fleet attempted the passage round cape horn. after seven days of painful watching and brooding over bitter thoughts, philip arrived at pulo penang, where he found a vessel about to sail for the city to which he was destined. he ran his peroqua alongside of her, and found that she was a brig under the portuguese flag, having, however, but two portuguese on board, the rest of the crew being natives. representing himself as am englishman in the portuguese service, who had been wrecked, and offering to pay for his passage, he was willingly received, and in a few days the vessel sailed. their voyage was prosperous; in six weeks they anchored in the roads of goa; the next day they went up the river. the portuguese captain informed philip where he might obtain lodging; and passing him off as one of his crew, there was no difficulty raised as to his landing. having located himself at his new lodging, philip commenced some inquiries of his host relative to amine, designating her merely as a young woman who had arrived there in a vessel some weeks before but he could obtain no information concerning her. "signor," said the host, "to-morrow is the grand _auto-da-fe_; we can do nothing until that is over; afterwards, i will put you in the way to find out what you wish. in the mean time, you can walk about the town; to-morrow i will take you to where you can behold the grand procession, and then we will try what we can do to assist you in your search." philip went out, procured a suit of clothes, removed his beard, and then walked about the town, looking up at every window to see if he could perceive amine. at a corner of one of the streets, he thought he recognised father mathias, and ran up to him; but the monk had drawn his cowl over his head, and when addressed by that name, made no reply. "i was deceived," thought philip; "but i really thought it was him." and philip was right; it was father mathias, who thus screened himself from philip's recognition. tired, at last he returned to his hotel, just before it was dark. the company there were numerous; everybody for miles distant had come to goa to witness the _auto-da-fe_,--and everybody was discussing the ceremony. "i will see this grand procession," said philip to himself, as he threw himself on his bed. "it will drive thought from me for a time; and god knows how painful my thoughts have now become. amine, dear amine, may angels guard thee!" chapter forty. although to-morrow was to end all amine's hopes and fears--all her short happiness--her suspense and misery--yet amine slept until her last slumber in this world was disturbed by the unlocking and unbarring of the doors of her cell, and the appearance of the head gaoler with a light. amine started up--she had been dreaming of her husband--of happiness! she awoke to the sad reality. there stood the gaoler, with a dress in his hand, which he desired she would put on. he lighted a lamp for her, and left her alone. the dress was of black serge, with white stripes. amine put on the dress, and threw herself down on the bed, trying, if possible, to recall the dream from which she had been awakened, but in vain. two hours passed away, and the gaoler again entered, and summoned her to follow him. perhaps one of the most appalling customs of the inquisition is, that after accusation, whether the accused parties confess their guilt or not, they return to their dungeons, without the least idea of what may have been their sentence, and when summoned on the morning of the execution they are equally kept in ignorance. the prisoners were all summoned by the gaolers from the various dungeons, and led into a large hall, where they found their fellow-sufferers collected. in this spacious, dimly-lighted hall, were to be seen about two hundred men, standing up, as if for support, against the walls, all dressed in the same black and white serge; so motionless, so terrified were they, that if it had not been for the rolling of their eyes, as they watched the gaolers, who passed and repassed, you might have imagined them to be petrified. it was the agony of suspense, worse than the agony of death. after a time, a wax candle, about five feet long, was put into the hands of each prisoner, and then some were ordered to put on over their dress the _sanbenitos_--others the _samarias_! those who received these dresses, with flames painted on them, gave themselves up for lost; and it was dreadful to perceive the anguish of each individual as the dresses were, one by one brought forward, and with the heavy drops of perspiration on his brows, he watched with terror lest one should be presented to him. all was doubt, fear, and horror! but the prisoners in this hall were not those who were to suffer death. those who wore the sanbenitos had to walk in the procession, and receive but slight punishment; those who wore the samarias had been condemned, but had been saved from the consuming fire, by an acknowledgment of their offence; the flames painted on their dresses were _reversed_, and signified that they were not to suffer; but this the unfortunate wretches did not know, and the horrors of a cruel death stared them in the face! another hall, similar to the one in which the men had been collected, was occupied by female culprits. the same ceremonies were observed--the same doubt fear and agony, were depicted upon every countenance. but there was a third chamber, smaller than the other two, and this chamber was reserved for those who had been sentenced and who were to suffer at the stake. it was into this chamber that amine was led, and there she found seven other prisoners, dressed in the same manner as herself: two only were europeans, the other five were negro slaves. each of these had his confessor with him, and was earnestly listening to his exhortation. a monk approached amine, but she waved him away with her hand: he looked at her, spat on the floor, and cursed her. the head gaoler now made his appearance with the dresses for those who were in this chamber; these were samarias, only different from the others, inasmuch as the flames were painted on them _upwards_ instead of down. these dresses were of grey stuff, and loose, like a waggoner's frock; at the lower part of them, both before and behind, was painted the likeness of the wearer that is the face only, resting upon a burning fagot, and surrounded with flames and demons. under the portrait was written the crime for which the party suffered. sugar-loaf caps, with flames painted on them, were also brought and put on their heads, and the long wax candles were placed into their hands. amine, and the others condemned, being arrayed in these dresses, remained in the chambers for some hours before it was time for the procession to commence, for they had been all summoned up by the gaolers at about two o'clock in the morning. the sun rose brilliantly, much to the joy of the members of the holy office, who would not have had the day obscured on which they were to vindicate the honour of the church, and to prove how well they acted up to the mild doctrines of the saviour--those of charity, good-will, forbearing one another forgiving one another. god of heaven! and not only did those of the holy inquisition rejoice, but thousands and thousands more, who had flocked from all parts to witness the dreadful ceremony, and to hold a jubilee--many, indeed, actuated by fanatical superstition, but more attended from thoughtlessness and the love of pageantry. the streets and squares through which the procession was to pass were filled at an early hour. silks, tapestries, and cloth of gold and silver, were hung over the balconies, and out of the windows, in honour of the procession. every balcony and window was thronged with ladies and cavaliers in their gayest attire, all waiting anxiously to see the wretches paraded before they suffered; but the world is fond of excitement, and where is anything so exciting to a superstitious people as an _auto-da-fe_? as the sun rose, the heavy bell of the cathedral tolled, and all the prisoners were led down to the grand hall, that the order of the procession might be arranged. at the large entrance-door, on a raised one sat the grand inquisitor, encircled by many of the most considerable nobility and gentry of goa. by the grand inquisitor stood his secretary, and as the prisoners walked past the throne and their names were mentioned, the secretary, after each, called out the names of one of those gentlemen, who immediately stepped forward, and took his station by the prisoner. these people are termed god-fathers; their duty is to accompany and be answerable for the prisoner, who is under their charge, until the ceremony is over. it is reckoned a high honour conferred on those whom the grand inquisitor appoints to this office. at last the procession commenced. first was raised on high the standard of the dominican order of monks, for the dominican order were the founders of the inquisition, and claimed this privilege by prescriptive right. after the banner, the monks themselves followed, in two lines. and what was the motto of their banner?--"justitia et misericordia!" then followed the culprits, to the number of three hundred, each with his godfather by his side, and his large wax candle lighted in his hand. those whose offences have been most venial walk first; all are bareheaded and barefooted. after this portion; who wore only the dress of black and white serge, came those who carried the sanbenitos; then those who wore the samarias, with the flames reversed. here there was a separation in the procession, caused by a large cross, with the carved image of our saviour nailed to it, the face of the image carried forward. this was intended to signify, that those in advance of the crucifix, and upon whom the saviour looked down, were not to suffer; and that those who were behind, and upon whom his back was turned, were cast away, to perish for ever, in this world and the next. behind the crucifix followed the seven condemned; and, as the greatest criminal, amine walked the last. but the procession did not close here. behind amine were five effigies, raised high on poles, clothed in the same dresses, painted with flames and demons. behind each effigy was borne a coffin, containing a skeleton; the effigies were of those who had died in their dungeon, or expired under the torture, and who had been tried and condemned after their death, and sentenced to be burnt. these skeletons had been dug up and were to suffer the same sentence as, had they still been living beings, they would have undergone. the effigies were to be tied to the stakes, and the bones were to be consumed. then followed the members of the inquisition; the familiars, monks, priests, and hundreds of penitents in black dresses, which concealed their faces, all with the lighted tapers in their hands. it was two hours before the procession, which had paraded through almost every important street in goa, arrived at the cathedral in which the further ceremonies were to be gone through. the barefooted culprits could now scarcely walk, the small sharp flints having so wounded their feet, that their tracks up the steps of the cathedral were marked with blood. the grand altar of the cathedral was hung with black cloth, and lighted up with thousands of tapers. on one side of it was a throne for the grand inquisitor, on the other, a raised platform for the viceroy of goa, and his suite. the centre aisle had benches for the prisoners and their godfathers; the other portions of the procession falling off to the right and left to the side aisles, and mixing for the time with the spectators. as the prisoners entered the cathedral, they were led into their seats, those least guilty sitting nearest to the altar, and those who were condemned to suffer at the stake being placed the farthest from it. the bleeding amine tottered to her seat, and longed for the hour which was to sever her from a christian world. she thought not of herself, nor of what she was to suffer: she thought but of philip; of his being safe from these merciless creatures--of the happiness of dying first, and of meeting him again in bliss. worn with long confinement, with suspense and anxiety, fatigued and suffering from her painful walk, and the exposure to the burning sun, after so many months' incarceration in a dungeon, she no longer shone radiant with beauty; but still there was something even more touching in her care-worn yet still perfect features. the object of universal gaze, she walked with her eyes cast down, and nearly closed; but occasionally, when she did look up, the fire that flashed from them spoke the proud soul within, and many feared and wondered, while more pitied that one so young, and still so lovely, should be doomed to such an awful fate. amine had not taken her seat in the cathedral more than a few seconds, when, overpowered by her feelings and by fatigue she fell back in a swoon. did no one step forward to assist her? to raise her up, and offer her restoratives? no--not one. hundreds would have done so, but they dared not: she was an outcast, excommunicated, abandoned, and lost; and should any one, moved by compassion for a suffering fellow-creature, have ventured to raise her up he would have been looked upon with suspicion, and most probably have been arraigned, and have had to settle the affair of conscience with the holy inquisition. after a short time two of the officers of the inquisition went to amine and raised her again in her seat, and she recovered sufficiently to enable her to retain her posture. a sermon was then preached by a dominican monk, in which he portrayed the tender mercies, the paternal love of the holy office. he compared the inquisition to the ark of noah, out of which all the animals walked after the deluge, but with this difference highly in favour of the holy office, that the animals went forth from the ark no better than they went in, whereas those who had gone into the inquisition with all the cruelty of disposition, and with the hearts of wolves, came out as mild and patient as lambs. the public accuser then mounted the pulpit, and read from it all the crimes of those who had been condemned, and the punishments which they were to undergo. each prisoner, as his sentence was read, was brought forward to the pulpit by the officers to hear it, standing up, with his wax candle lighted in his hand. as soon as the sentences of all those whose lives had been spared were read the grand inquisitor put on his priestly robes, and followed by several others, took off from them the ban of excommunication (which they were supposed to have fallen under), by throwing holy water on them with a small broom. as soon as this portion of the ceremony was over, those who were condemned to suffer, and the effigies of those who had escaped by death, were brought up one by one, and their sentences read; the winding up of the condemnation of all was in the same words, "that the holy inquisition found it impossible, on account of the hardness of their hearts and the magnitude of their crimes, to pardon them. with great concern it handed them over to secular justice to undergo the penalty of the laws; exhorting the authorities at the same time to show clemency and mercy towards the unhappy wretches, and if they must suffer death, that at all events it might be without the _spilling of blood_." what mockery was this apparent intercession not to shied blood, when, to comply with their request, they substituted the torment and agony of the stake! amine was the last who was led forward to the pulpit, which was fixed against one of the massive columns of the centre aisle, close to the throne occupied by the grand inquisitor. "you, amine vanderdecken," cried the public accuser. at this moment an unusual bustle was heard in the crowd under the pulpit, there was struggling and expostulation, and the officers raised their wands for silence and decorum--but it continued. "you, amine vanderdecken, being accused--" another violent struggle; and from the crowd darted a young man, who rushed to where amine was standing, and caught her in his arms. "philip! philip!" screamed amine falling on his bosom; as he caught her, the cap of flames fell off her head and rolled along the marble pavement. "my amine--my wife--my adored one--is it thus we meet? my lord, she is innocent. stand off, men," continued he to the officers of the inquisition, who would have torn them asunder: "stand off, or your lives shall answer for it." this threat to the officers, and the defiance of all rules, were not to be borne; the whole cathedral was in a state of commotion, and the solemnity of the ceremony was about to be compromised. the viceroy and his followers had risen from their chairs to observe what was passing, and the crowd was pressing on, when the grand inquisitor gave his directions, and other officers hastened to the assistance of the two who had led amine forward, and proceeded to disengage her from philip's arms. the struggle was severe. philip appeared to be endued with the strength of twenty men; and it was some minutes before they could succeed in separating him and when they had so done, his struggles were dreadful. amine, also, held by two of the familiars, shrieked, as she attempted once more, but in vain, to rush into her husband's arms. at last, by a tremendous effort, philip released himself; but as soon as he was released, he sank down helpless on the pavement; the exertion had caused the bursting of a blood-vessel, and he lay without motion. "oh god! oh god! they have killed him! monsters--murderers!--let me embrace him but once more!" cried amine, frantically. a priest now stepped forward--it was father mathias--with sorrow in his countenance; he desired some of the bystanders to carry out philip vanderdecken, and philip, in a state of insensibility, was borne away from the sight of amine, the blood streaming from his mouth. amine's sentence was read--she heard it not, her brain was bewildered. she was led back to her seat, and then it was that all her courage, all her constancy and fortitude gave way; and during the remainder of the ceremony, she filled the cathedral with her wild hysterical sobbing; all entreaties or threats being wholly lost upon her. all was now over except the last and most tragical scene of the drama. the culprits who had been spared were led back to the inquisition by their godfathers, and those who had been sentenced were taken down to the banks of the river to suffer. it was on a large open space, on the left of the custom-house, that this ceremony was to be gone through. as in the cathedral raised thrones were prepared for the grand inquisitor and the who, in state headed the procession, followed by an immense concourse of people. thirteen stakes had been set up, eight for the living, or the dead. the executioners were sitting on, or standing by, the piles of wood and faggots, waiting for their victims. amine could not walk she was at first supported by the familiars, and then carried by them, to the stake which had been assigned for her. when they put her on her feet opposite 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 faggots 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 wound's for mercy. 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!' 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 _first_ 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 coursed down the old man's cheeks. as amine 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 affirmative, 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 before it burst 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 forty one. years have passed away since we related amine's sufferings and cruel death; and now once more we bring philip vanderdecken 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 mathias! 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. alas! 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 vanderdecken 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 constant subject of his reveries. "blessed indeed will be the day 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 contemplating 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 not 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 have been wrecked, philip vanderdecken, 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 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 superstitious, 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 very 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 protect us from harm," continued he, taking off his hat reverentially 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 belem." 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. 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 only 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 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 incomprehensible. "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 appearance; 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, and at last the whole of her floatage was above water and there she remained close to them, with her main yard squared, and hove-to. "holy virgin!" exclaimed the captain, breathless; "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 perceived 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 seaman, dressed in a fur cap and canvas petticoats; he held some letters in his hand. "what do you want?" at last screamed the captain. "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 almanack 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, running 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 made no reply, but held his hand out for the letters. "here is one from our second mate to his wife at amsterdam 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. "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 and company, 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 disappeared. in a few seconds was heard the sound of the oars retreating from the ship. "holy st. 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 draining 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." "yes yes, it's all right, depend upon it," cried the sailors. "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." "yes, yes; let him give up the charm," cried the sailors; and they rushed upon philip. philip started back to where the captain stood. "madmen, 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 forty two. 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 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! he!" "i threw you overboard in a state of phrenzy," 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 not attempt to harm you." "you do then _forgive your enemy_, philip vanderdecken?" replied schriften, mournfully, "for such i acknowledge myself 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 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 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 himself 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--before 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 himself 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 sunk 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 decrepit--still kneeling, still embracing, with their hands raised to heaven, sank slowly under the deep blue wave, the lurid sky was for a moment illumined by a lightning cross. then did the clouds which obscured the heavens roll away swift as thought--the sun again burst out in all his splendour--the rippling waves appeared to dance with joy. the screaming 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. proofreaders the vizier of the two-horned alexander by frank r. stockton prefatory note the story told in this book is based upon legendary history, and the statements on which it is founded appear in the chronicles of abou-djafar mohammed tabari. this historian was the first mussulman to write a general history of the world. he was born in the year of the hejira ( - a.d.), and passed a great part of his life in bagdad, where he studied and taught theology and jurisprudence. his chronicles embrace the history of the world, according to his lights, from the creation to the year of the hejira. in these chronicles tabari relates some of the startling experiences of el khoudr, or el kroudhr, then vizier of that great monarch, the two-horned alexander, and these experiences furnish the motive for those subsequent adventures which are now related in this book. some writers have confounded the two-horned alexander with alexander the great, but this is an inexcusable error. references in ancient histories to the two-horned alexander describe him as a great and powerful potentate, and place him in the time of abraham. mr. s. baring-gould, in his "legends of the patriarchs and prophets," states that, after a careful examination, he has come to the conclusion that some of the most generally known legends which have come down to us through the ages are based on incidents which occurred in the reign of this monarch. the hero of this story now deems it safe to speak out plainly without fear of evil consequences to himself, and his confidence in our high civilization is a compliment to the age. list of illustrations i lent large sums to the noble knights "don't you do it" his wife was a slender lady "time of abraham!" i exclaimed moses asked embarrassing questions an encounter with charles lamb i cut that picture from its frame when we left cordova i had been a broker in pompeii solomon and the jinns "go tell the queen" she gave me her hand, and i shook it heartily asking all sorts of questions and roughly told me she turned her head "how like!" i proceeded to dig a hole "why are you not in the army?" nebuchadnezzar and the gardener petrarch and laura the crouching african fixed her eyes upon him the vizier of the two-horned alexander i i was on a french steamer bound from havre to new york, when i had a peculiar experience in the way of a shipwreck. on a dark and foggy night, when we were about three days out, our vessel collided with a derelict--a great, heavy, helpless mass, as dull and colorless as the darkness in which she was enveloped. we struck her almost head on, and her stump of a bowsprit was driven into our port bow with such tremendous violence that a great hole--nobody knew of what dimensions--was made in our vessel. the collision occurred about two hours before daylight, and the frightened passengers who crowded the upper deck were soon informed by the officers that it would be necessary to take to the boats, for the vessel was rapidly settling by the head. now, of course, all was hurry and confusion. the captain endeavored to assure his passengers that there were boats enough to carry every soul on board, and that there was time enough for them to embark quietly and in order. but as the french people did not understand him when he spoke in english, and as the americans did not readily comprehend what he said in french, his exhortations were of little avail. with such of their possessions as they could carry, the people crowded into the boats as soon as they were ready, and sometimes before they were ready; and while there was not exactly a panic on board, each man seemed to be inspired with the idea that his safety, and that of his family, if he had one, depended upon precipitate individual action. i was a young man, traveling alone, and while i was as anxious as any one to be saved from the sinking vessel, i was not a coward, and i could not thrust myself into a boat when there were women and children behind me who had not yet been provided with places. there were men who did this, and several times i felt inclined to knock one of the poltroons overboard. the deck was well lighted, the steamer was settling slowly, and there was no excuse for the dastardly proceedings which were going on about me. it was not long, however, before almost all of the passengers were safely embarked, and i was preparing to get into a boat which was nearly filled with the officers and crew, when i was touched on the shoulder, and turning, i saw a gentleman whose acquaintance i had made soon after the steamer had left havre. his name was crowder. he was a middle-aged man, a new-yorker, intelligent and of a social disposition, and i had found him a very pleasant companion. to my amazement, i perceived that he was smoking a cigar. "if i were you," said he, "i would not go in that boat. it is horribly crowded, and the captain and second officer have yet to find places in it." "that's all the more reason," said i, "why we should hurry. i am not going to push myself ahead of women and children, but i've just as much right to be saved as the captain has, and if there are any vacant places, let us get them as soon as possible." crowder now put his hand on my shoulder as if to restrain me. "safety!" said he. "you needn't trouble yourself about safety. you are just as safe where you are as you could possibly be in one of those boats. if they are not picked up soon,--and they may float about for days,--their sufferings and discomforts will be very great. there is a shameful want of accommodation in the way of boats." "but, my dear sir," said i, "i can't stop here to talk about that. they are calling for the captain now." "oh, he's in no hurry," said my companion. "he's collecting his papers, i suppose, and he knows his vessel will not sink under him while he is doing it. i'm not going in that boat; i haven't the least idea of such a thing. it will be odiously crowded, and i assure you, sir, that if the sea should be rough that boat will be dangerous. even now she is overloaded." i looked at the man in amazement. he had spoken earnestly, but he was as calm as if we were standing on a sidewalk, and he endeavoring to dissuade me from boarding an overcrowded street-car. before i could say anything he spoke again: "i am going to remain on this ship. she is a hundred times safer than any of those boats. i have had a great deal of experience in regard to vessels and ocean navigation, and it will be a long time before this vessel sinks, if she ever sinks of her own accord. she's just as likely to float as that derelict we ran into. the steam is nearly out of her boilers by this time, and nothing is likely to happen to her. i wish you would stay with me. here we will be safe, with plenty of room, and plenty to eat and drink. when it is daylight we will hoist a flag of distress, which will be much more likely to be seen than anything that can flutter from those little boats. if you have noticed, sir, the inclination of this deck is not greater now than it was half an hour ago. that proves that our bow has settled down about as far as it is going. i think it likely that the water has entered only a few of the forward compartments." the man spoke so confidently that his words made an impression upon me. i knew that it very often happens that a wreck floats for a long time, and the boat from which the men were now frantically shouting for the captain would certainly be dangerously crowded. "stay with me," said mr. crowder, "and i assure you, with as much reason as any man can assure any other man of anything in this world, that you will be perfectly safe. this steamer is not going to sink." there were rapid footsteps, and i saw the captain and his second officer approaching. "step back here," said mr. crowder, pulling me by the coat. "don't let them see us. they may drag us on board that confounded boat. keep quiet, sir, and let them get off. they think they are the last on board." involuntarily i obeyed him, and we stood in the shadow of the great funnel. the captain had reached the rail. "is every one in the boats?" he shouted, in french and in english. "is every one in the boats? i am going to leave the vessel." i made a start as if to rush toward him, but crowder held me by the arm. "don't you do it," he whispered very earnestly. "i have the greatest possible desire to save you. stay where you are, and you will be all right. that overloaded boat may capsize in half an hour." [illustration: "'don't you do it.'"] i could not help it; i believed him. my own judgment seemed suddenly to rise up and ask me why i should leave the solid deck of the steamer for that perilous little boat. i need say but little more in regard to this shipwreck. when the fog lifted, about ten o'clock in the morning, we could see no signs of any of the boats. a mile or so away lay the dull black line of the derelict, as if she were some savage beast who had bitten and torn us, and was now sullenly waiting to see us die of the wound. we hoisted a flag, union down, and then we went below to get some breakfast. mr. crowder knew all about the ship, and where to find everything. he told me he had made so many voyages that he felt almost as much at home on sea as on land. we made ourselves comfortable all day, and at night we went to our rooms, and i slept fairly well, although there was a very disagreeable slant to my berth. the next day, early in the afternoon, our signal of distress was seen by a tramp steamer on her way to new york, and we were taken off. we cruised about for many hours in the direction the boats had probably taken, and the next day we picked up two of them in a sorry condition, the occupants having suffered many hardships and privations. we never had news of the captain's boat, but the others were rescued by a sailing-vessel going eastward. before we reached new york, mr. crowder had made me promise that i would spend a few days with him at his home in that city. his family was small, he told me,--a wife, and a daughter about six,--and he wanted me to know them. naturally we had become great friends. very likely the man had saved my life, and he had done it without any act of heroism or daring, but simply by impressing me with the fact that his judgment was better than mine. i am apt to object to people of superior judgment, but mr. crowder was an exception to the ordinary superior person. from the way he talked it was plain that he 'had much experience of various sorts, and that he had greatly advantaged thereby; but he gave himself no airs on this account, and there was nothing patronizing about him. if i were able to tell him anything he did not know,--and i frequently was,--he was very glad to hear it. moreover, mr. crowder was a very good man to look at. he was certainly over fifty, and his closely trimmed hair was white, but he had a fresh and florid complexion. he was tall and well made, fashionably dressed, and had an erect and somewhat military carriage. he was fond of talking, and seemed fond of me, and these points in his disposition attracted me very much. my relatives were few, they lived in the west, and i never had had a friend whose company was so agreeable to me as that of mr. crowder. mr. crowder's residence was a handsome house in the upper part of the city. his wife was a slender lady, scarcely half his age, with a sweet and interesting face, and was attired plainly but tastefully. in general appearance she seemed to be the opposite of her husband in every way. she had suffered a week of anxiety, and was so rejoiced at having her husband again that when i met her, some hours after crowder had reached the house, her glorified face seemed like that of an angel. but there was nothing demonstrative about her. even in her great joy she was as quiet as a dove, and i was not surprised when her husband afterward told me that she was a quaker. [illustration: "his wife was a slender lady."] i was entertained very handsomely by the crowders. i spent several days with them, and although they were so happy to see each other, they made it very plain that they were also happy to have me with them, he because he liked me, she because he liked me. on the day before my intended departure, mr. crowder and i were smoking, after dinner, in his study. he had been speaking of people and things that he had seen in various parts of the world, but after a time he became a little abstracted, and allowed me to do most of the talking. "you must excuse me," he said suddenly, when i had repeated a question; "you must not think me willingly inattentive, but i was considering something important--very important. ever since you have been here, --almost ever since i have known you, i might say,--the desire has been growing upon me to tell you something known to no living being but myself." this offer did not altogether please me; i had grown very fond of crowder, but the confidences of friends are often very embarrassing. at this moment the study door was gently opened, and mrs. crowder came in. "no," said she, addressing her husband with a smile; "thee need not let thy conscience trouble thee. i have not come to say anything about gentlemen being too long over their smoking. i only want to say that mrs. norris and two other ladies have just called, and i am going down to see them. they are a committee, and will not care for the society of gentlemen. i am sorry to lose any of your company, mr. randolph, especially as you insist that this is to be your last evening with us; but i do not think you would care anything about our ward organizations." "now, isn't that a wife to have!" exclaimed my host, as we resumed our cigars. "she thinks of everybody's happiness, and even wishes us to feel free to take another cigar if we desire it, although in her heart she disapproves of smoking." we settled ourselves again to talk, and as there really could be no objection to my listening to crowder's confidences, i made none. "what i have to tell you," he said presently, "concerns my life, present, past, and future. pretty comprehensive, isn't it? i have long been looking for some one to whom i should be so drawn by bonds of sympathy that i should wish to tell him my story. now, i feel that i am so drawn to you. the reason for this, in some degree at least, is because you believe in me. you are not weak, and it is my opinion that on important occasions you are very apt to judge for yourself, and not to care very much for the opinions of other people; and yet, on a most important occasion, you allowed me to judge for you. you are not only able to rely on yourself, but you know when it is right to rely on others. i believe you to be possessed of a fine and healthy sense of appreciation." i laughed, and begged him not to bestow too many compliments upon me, for i was not used to them. "i am not thinking of complimenting you," he said. "i am simply telling you what i think of you in order that you may understand why i tell you my story. i must first assure you, however, that i do not wish to place any embarrassing responsibility upon you by taking you into my confidence. all that i say to you, you may say to others when the time comes; but first i must tell the tale to you." he sat up straight in his chair, and put down his cigar. "i will begin," he said, "by stating that i am the vizier of the two-horned alexander." i sat up even straighter than my companion, and gazed steadfastly at him. "no," said he, "i am not crazy. i expected you to think that, and am entirely prepared for your look of amazement and incipient horror. i will ask you, however, to set aside for a time the dictates of your own sense, and hear what i have to say. then you can take the whole matter into consideration, and draw your own conclusions." he now leaned back in his chair, and went on with his story: "it would be more correct, perhaps, for me to say that i was the vizier of the two-horned alexander, for that great personage died long ago. now, i don't believe you ever heard anything about the two-horned alexander." i had recovered sufficiently from my surprise to assure him that he was right. my host nodded. "i thought so," said he; "very few people do know anything about that powerful potentate. he lived in the time of abraham. he was a man of considerable culture, even of travel, and of an adventurous disposition. i entered into the service of his court when i was a very young man, and gradually i rose in position until i became his chief officer, or vizier." [illustration: "'time of abraham!' i exclaimed."] i sprang from my chair. "time of abraham!" i exclaimed. "this is simply--" "no; it is not," he interrupted, and speaking in perfect good humor. "i beg you will sit down and listen to me. what i have to say to you is not nearly so wonderful as the nature and power of electricity." i obeyed; he had touched me on a tender spot, for i am an electrician, and can appreciate the wonderful. "there has been a great deal of discussion," he continued, "in regard to the peculiar title given to alexander, but the appellation 'two-horned' has frequently been used in ancient times. you know michelangelo gave two horns to moses; but he misunderstood the tradition he had heard, and furnished the prophet with real horns. alexander wore his hair arranged over his forehead in the shape of two protruding horns. this was simply a symbol of high authority; as the bull is monarch of the herd, so was he monarch among men. he was the first to use this symbol, although it was imitated afterward by various eastern potentates. "as i have said, alexander was a man of enterprise, and it had come to his knowledge that there existed somewhere a certain spring the waters of which would confer immortality upon any descendant of shem who should drink of them, and he started out to find this spring. i traveled with him for more than a year. it was on this journey that he visited abraham when the latter was building the great edifice which the mohammedans claim as their holy temple, the kaaba. "it was more than a month after we had parted from abraham that i, being in advance of the rest of the company, noticed a little pool in the shade of a rock, and being very warm and thirsty, i got down on my hands and knees, and putting my face to the water, drank of it. i drank heartily, and when i raised my head, i saw, to my amazement, that there was not a drop of water left in the spring. now it so happened that when alexander came to this spot, he stopped, and having regarded the little hollow under the rock, together with its surroundings, he dismounted and stood by it. he called me, and said: 'according to all the descriptions i have read, this might have been the spring of immortality for which i have been searching; but it cannot be such now, for there is no water in it.' then he stooped down and looked carefully at the hollow. 'there has been water here,' said he, 'and that not long ago, for the ground is wet.' "a horrible suspicion now seized upon me. could i have drained the contents of the spring of inestimable value? could i, without knowing it, have deprived my king of the great prize for which he had searched so long, with such labor and pains? of course i was certain of nothing, but i bowed before alexander, and told him that i had found an insignificant little puddle at the place, that i had tasted it and found it was nothing but common water, and in quantity so small that it scarcely sufficed to quench my thirst. if he would consent to camp in the shade, and wait a few hours, water would trickle again into the little basin, and fill it, and he could see for himself that this could not be the spring of which he was in search. "we waited at that place for the rest of the day and the whole of the night, and the next morning the little basin was empty and entirely dry. alexander did not reproach me; he was accustomed to rule all men, even himself, and he forbade himself to think that i had interfered with the great object of his search. but he sent me home to his capital city, and continued his journey without me. 'such a thirsty man must not travel with me,' he said. 'if we should really come to the immortal spring, he would be sure to drink it all.' "nine years afterward alexander returned to his palace, and when i presented myself before him he regarded me steadfastly. i knew why he was looking at me, and i trembled. at length he spoke: 'thou art not one day older than when i dismissed thee from my company. it was indeed the fountain of immortality which thou didst discover, and of which thou didst drink every drop. i have searched over the whole habitable world, and there is no other. thou, too, art an aristocrat; thou, too, art of the family of shem. it was for this reason that i placed thee near me, that i gave thee great power; and now thou hast destroyed all my hopes, my aspirations. thou hast put an end to my ambitions. i had believed that i should rule the world, and rule it forever.' his face grew black; his voice was terrible. 'retire!' he said. 'i will attend to thy future.' "i retired, but my furious sovereign never saw me again. i was fifty-three years old when i drank the water in the little pool under the rock, and i was well aware that at the time of my sovereign's return i felt no older and looked no older. but still i hoped that this was merely the result of my general good health, and that when alexander came back he would inform me that he had discovered the veritable spring of immortality; so i retained my high office, and waited. but i had made my plans for escape in case my hope should not be realized. in two minutes from the time i left his presence i had begun my flight, and there were no horses in all his dominions which could equal the speed of mine. "now began a long, long period of danger and terror, of concealment and deprivation. i fled into other lands, and these were conquered in order that i might be found. but at last alexander died, and his son died, and the sons of his son died, and the whole story was forgotten or disbelieved, and i was no longer in danger of living forever as an example of the ingenious cruelty of an exasperated monarch. "i do not intend to recount my life and adventures since that time; in fact, i shall scarcely touch upon them. you can see for yourself that that would be impossible. one might as well attempt to read a history of the world in a single evening. i merely want to say enough to make you understand the situation. "a hundred years after i had fled from alexander i was still fifty-three years old, and knew that that would be my age forever. i stayed so long in the place where i first established myself that people began to look upon me with suspicion. seeing me grow no older, they thought i was a wizard, and i was obliged to seek a new habitation. ever since, my fate has been the necessity of moving from place to place. i would go somewhere as a man beginning to show signs of age, and i would remain as long as a man could reasonably be supposed to live without becoming truly old and decrepit. sometimes i remained in a place far longer than my prudence should have permitted, and many were the perils i escaped on account of this rashness; but i have gradually learned wisdom." the man spoke so quietly and calmly, and made his statements in such a matter-of-fact way, that i listened to him with the same fascinated attention i had given to the theory of telegraphy without wires, when it was first propounded to me. in fact, i had been so influenced by his own conviction of the truth of what he said that i had been on the point of asking him if abraham had really had anything to do with the building of the islam temple, but had been checked by the thought of the utter absurdity of supposing that this man sitting in front of me could possibly know anything about it. but now i spoke. i did not want him to suppose that i believed anything he said, nor did i really intend to humor him in his insane retrospections; but what he had said suggested to me the very apropos remark that one might suppose he had been giving a new version of the story of the wandering jew. at this he sat up very straight, on the extreme edge of his chair; his eyes sparkled. "you must excuse me," he said, "but for twenty seconds i am going to be angry. i can't help it. it isn't your fault, but that remark always enrages me. i expect it, of course, but it makes my blood boil, all the same." "then you have told your story before?" i said. "yes," he answered. "i have told it to certain persons to whom i thought it should be known. some of these have believed it, some have not; but, believers or disbelievers, all have died and disappeared. their opinions are nothing to me. you are now the only living being who knows my story." i was going to ask a question here, but he did not give me a chance. he was very much moved. "i hate that wandering jew," said he, "or, i should say, i despise the thin film of a tradition from which he was constructed. there never was a wandering jew. there could not have been; it is impossible to conceive of a human being sent forth to wander in wretchedness forever. moreover, suppose there had been such a man, what a poor, modern creature he would be compared with me! even now he would be less than two thousand years old. you must excuse my perturbation, but i am sure that during the whole of the christian era i have never told my story to any one who did not, in some way or other, make an absurd or irritating reference to the wandering jew. i have often thought, and i have no doubt i am right, that the ancient story of my adventures as kroudhr, the vizier of the two-horned alexander, combined with what i have related, in one century or another, of my subsequent experiences, has given rise to the tradition of that very unpleasant jew of whom eugène sue and many others have made good use. it is very natural that there should be legends about people who in some way or other are enabled to live forever. if ponce de leon and his companions had mysteriously disappeared when in search of the fountain of youth, there would be stories now about rejuvenated spaniards wandering about the earth, and who would always continue to wander. but the fountain of youth is not a desirable water-supply, and a young person who should find such a pool would do well to wait until he had arrived at maturity before entering upon an existence of indefinite continuance. "but i must go on with my story. at one time i made for myself a home, and remained in it for many, many years without making any change. i became a sort of hermit, and lived in a rocky cave. i allowed my hair and beard to grow, so that people really thought i was getting older and older; at last i acquired the reputation of a prophet, and was held in veneration by a great many religious people. of course i could not prophesy, but as i had such a vast deal of experience i was able to predicate intelligently something about the future from my knowledge of the past. i became famed as a wonderful seer, and there were a great many curious stories told about me. "among my visitors at that time was moses. he had heard of me, and came to see what manner of man i was. we became very well acquainted. he was a man anxious to obtain information, and he asked me questions which embarrassed me very much; but i do not know that he suspected i had lived beyond the ordinary span of life. there are a good many traditions about this visit of moses, some of which are extant at the present day; but these, of course, are the result of what might be called cumulative imagination. many of them are of moslem origin, and the great arabian historian tabari has related some of them. [illustration: "moses asked embarrassing questions."] "i learned a great deal while i lived in this cave, both from scholars and from nature; but at last new generations arose who did not honor or even respect me, and by some i was looked upon as a fraudulent successor to the old prophet of whom their ancestors had told them, and so i thought it prudent to leave." my interest in this man's extraordinary tissue of retrospection was increasing, and i felt that i must not doubt nor deny; to do so would be to break the spell, to close the book. "did it not sometimes fill you with horror to think that you must live forever?" i asked. "yes," he answered, "that has happened to me; but such feelings have long, long passed away. if you could have lived as i have, and had seen the world change from what it was when i was young to what it is now, you would understand how a man of my disposition, a man of my overpowering love of knowledge, love of discovery, love of improvement, love of progress of all kinds, would love to live. in fact, if i were now to be told that at the end of five thousand years i must expire and cease, it would fill me with gloom. having seen so much, i expect more than most men are capable of comprehending. and i shall see it all--see the centuries unfold, behold the wonderful things of the future arise! the very thought of it fills me with inexpressible joy." for a few moments he remained silent. i could understand the state of his mind, no matter how those mental conditions had been brought about. "but you must not suppose," he continued, "that this earthly immortality is without its pains, its fears, i may say its horrors. it is precisely on account of all these that i am now talking to you. the knowledge that my life is always safe, no matter in what peril i may be, does not relieve me from anxiety and apprehension of evil. it would be a curse to live if i were not in sound physical condition; it would be a curse to live as a slave; it would be a curse to live in a dungeon. i have known vicissitudes and hardships of every kind, but i have been fortunate enough to preserve myself whole and unscathed, in spite of the dangers i have incurred. "i often think from what a terrible fate i saved my master, alexander of the two horns. if he had found the fountain he might have enjoyed his power and dominion for a few generations. then he would have been thrown down, cast out, and even if he had escaped miseries which i cannot bear to mention, he never could have regained his high throne. he would have been condemned to live forever in a station for which he was not fitted. "it is very different with me. my nature allows me to adapt myself to various conditions, and my habits of prudence prevent me from seeking to occupy any position which may be dangerous to me by making me conspicuous, and from which i could not easily retire when i believe the time has come to do so. i have been almost everything; i have even been a soldier. but i have never taken up arms except when obliged to do so, and i have known as little of war as possible. no weapon or missile could kill me, but i have a great regard for my arms and legs. i have been a ruler of men, but i have trembled in my high estate, for i feared the populace. they could do everything except take my life. therefore i made it a point to abdicate when the skies were clear. in such cases i set out on journeys from which i never returned. "i have also lived the life of the lowly; i have drawn water, and i have hewn wood. by the way, that reminds me of a little incident which may interest you. i was employed in the east india house at the time charles lamb was a clerk there. it was not long after he had begun to contribute his elia essays to the 'london magazine.' i had read some of them, and was interested in the man. i met him several times in the corridors or on the stairways, and one day i was going up-stairs, carrying a hod of coals, as he was coming down. looking up at him, i made a misstep, and came near dropping a portion of my burden. 'my good man,' said he, with a queer smile, 'if you would learn to carry your coals as well as you carry your age you would do well.' i don't remember what i said in reply; but i know i thought if charles lamb could be made aware of my real age he would abandon his elia work and devote himself to me." "it is a pity you did not tell him," i suggested. "no," replied my host. "he might have been interested, but he could not have appreciated the situation, even if i had told him everything. he would not really have known my age, for he would not have believed me. i might have found myself in a lunatic asylum. i never saw lamb again, and very soon after that meeting i came to america." [illustration: an encounter with charles lamb.] ii "there are two points about your story that i do not comprehend," said i (and as i spoke i could not help the thought that in reality i did not comprehend any of it). "in the first place, i don't see how you could live for a generation or two in one place and then go off to an entirely new locality. i should think there were not enough inhabited spots in the world to accommodate you in such extensive changes." mr. crowder smiled. "i don't wonder you ask that question," he said; "but in fact it was not always necessary for me to seek new places. there are towns in which i have taken up my residence many times. but as i arrived each time as a stranger from afar, and as these sojourns were separated by many years, there was no one to suppose me to be a person who had lived in that place a century or two before." "then you never had your portrait painted," i remarked. "oh, yes, i have," he replied. "toward the close of the thirteenth century i was living in florence, being at that time married to a lady of wealthy family, and she insisted upon my having my portrait painted by cimabue, who, as you know, was the master of giotto. after my wife's death i departed from florence, leaving behind me the impression that i intended soon to return; and i would have been glad to take the portrait with me, but i had no opportunity. it was in that i went back to florence, and as soon as i could i visited the stately mansion where i had once lived, and there in the gallery still hung the portrait. this was an unsatisfactory discovery, for i might wish at some future time to settle again in florence, and i had hoped that the portrait had faded, or that it had been destroyed; but cimabue painted too well, and his work was then held in high value, without regard to his subject. finding myself entirely alone in the gallery, i cut that picture from its frame. i concealed it under my cloak, and when i reached my lodging i utterly destroyed it. i did not feel that i was committing any crime in doing this; i had ordered and paid for the painting, and i felt that i had a right to do what i pleased with it." "i don't see how you can help having your picture taken in these days," i said; "even if you refuse to go to a photographer's, you can't escape the kodak people. you have a striking presence." "oh, i can't get away from photographers," he answered. "i have had a number of pictures taken, at the request of my wife and other people. it is impossible to avoid it, and that is one of the reasons why i am now telling you my story. what is the other point about which you wished to ask me?" "i cannot comprehend," i answered, "how you should ever have found yourself poor and obliged to work. i should say that a man who had lived so long would have accumulated, in one way or another, immense wealth, inexhaustible treasures." [illustration: "'i cut that picture from its frame.'"] "oh, yes," said he, with a smile; "monte cristo, and all that sort of thing. your notion is a perfectly natural one, but i assure you, mr. randolph, that it is founded upon a mistake. over and over and over again i have amassed wealth; but i have not been able to retain it permanently, and often i have suffered for the very necessaries of life. i have been hungry, knowing that i could never starve. the explanation of this state of things is simple enough: i would trade; i would speculate; i would marry an heiress; i would become rich; for many years i would enjoy my possessions. then the time would come when people said: 'who owns these houses?' 'to whom belongs this money in the banks?' 'these properties were purchased in our great-grandfathers' times; the accounts in the banks were opened long before our oldest citizens were born. who is it who is making out leases and drawing checks?' i have employed all sorts of subterfuges in order to retain my property, but i have always found that to prove my continued identity i should have to acknowledge my immortality; and in that case, of course, i should have been adjudged a lunatic, and everything would have been taken from me. so i generally managed, before the time arrived when it was actually necessary for me to do so, to turn my property, as far as possible, into money, and establish myself in some other place as a stranger. but there were times when i was obliged to hurry from my home and take nothing with me. then i knew misery. "it was during the period of one of my greatest depressions that i met with a monk who was afterward st. bruno, and i joined the carthusian monastery which he founded in calabria. in the midst of their asceticism, their seclusion, and their silence i hoped that i might be asked no questions, and need tell no lies; i hoped that i might be allowed to live as long as i pleased without disturbance; but i found no such immunity. when bruno died, and his successor had followed him into the grave, it was proposed that i should be the next prior; but this would not have suited me at all. i had employed all my time in engrossing books, but the duties of a prior were not for me, so i escaped, and went out into the world again." as i sat and listened to mr. crowder, his story seemed equally wonderful to me, whether it were a plain statement of facts or the relation of an insane dream. it was not a wild tale, uttered in the enthusiastic excitement of a disordered mind; but it was a series of reminiscences, told quietly and calmly, here a little, there a little, without chronological order, each one touched upon as it happened to suggest itself. from wondering i found myself every now and then believing: but whenever i realized the folly in which i was indulging myself, i shook off my credulity and endeavored to listen with interest, but without judgment, for in this way only could i most thoroughly enjoy the strange narrative; but my lapses into unconscious belief were frequent. "you have spoken of marriage," said i. "have you had many wives?" my host leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. "that is a subject," he said, "of which i think as little as i can, and yet i must speak to you of it. it is right that i should do so. i have been married so often that i can scarcely count the wives i have had. beautiful women, good women, some of them women to whom i would have given immortality had i been able; but they died, and died, and died. and here is one of the great drawbacks of living forever. "yet it was not always the death of my wives which saddened me the most; it was their power of growing old. i would marry a young woman, beautiful, charming. you need not be surprised that i was able to do this, for in all ages woman has been in the habit of disregarding the years of man, and i have always had a youthful spirit; i think it is daudet who says that the most dangerous lover is the man of fifty-three. i would live happily with a wife; she would gradually grow to be the same age as myself; and then she would become older and older, and i did not. as i have said, there were women to whom i would have given immortality if i could; but i will add that there have been times when i would have given up my own immortality to be able to pass gently into old age with a beloved wife. "you will want to know if i have had descendants. they exist by the thousand; but if you ask me where they are, i must tell you that i do not know. i now have but one child, a little girl who is asleep up-stairs. i have gathered around me families of sons and daughters; they have grown up, married, and my grandchildren have sat upon my knees. sometimes, at long intervals, i have known great-grandchildren. but when my sons and daughters have grown gray and gone to their graves, i have withdrawn myself from the younger people,--some of whom were not acquainted with me, others even had never heard of me,--and then by the next generation the old ancestor, if remembered at all, was connected only with the distant past. and so family after family have melted into the great mass of human beings, and are as completely lost as though they were water thrown into the sea. "i have always been fond of beautiful women, and as you have met mrs. crowder, you know that my disposition has not changed. sarah, the wife of abraham, was considered a woman of great beauty in her day, and the fame of her charms continues; but i assure you that if she lived now her attractions would not have given her husband so much trouble. i saw a good deal of sarah when i visited abraham with my master alexander, and i have seen many more beautiful women since that time. hagar was a fine woman, but she was too dark, and her face had an anxious expression which interfered with her beauty." "was hagar really the wife of abraham," i asked, "as the mussulmans say, and was ishmael considered his heir?" "when i saw them," my host continued, "the two women seemed as friendly as sisters, and isaac was not yet born. at that time it was considered, of course, that ishmael was abraham's heir. certainly he was a much finer man than isaac, with whom i became acquainted a long time afterward. there were some very beautiful women at the court of solomon. one of these was balkis, the famous queen of sheba." "did you ever meet cleopatra?" i interrupted. "i never saw her," was the answer, "but, from what i have heard, i do not think i should have cared for her if i had seen her asleep. what might have happened had i seen her awake is quite another matter. i have noticed that women grow more beautiful as the world grows older, and men grow taller and better developed. you would consider me, i think, a man of average size; but i tell you that in my early life i was exceptionally tall, and i have no doubt it was my stature and presence to which i largely owed my preferment at the court of alexander. i was living in spain toward the close of the tenth century, when i married the daughter of an arabian physician, who was a wonderfully beautiful woman. she was not dark, like the ordinary moorish women. in feature and form she surpassed any creation of the greek sculptors, and i have been in many of their workshops, and have seen their models. this lady lived longer than any other wife i had. she lived so long, in fact, that when we left cordova we both thought it well that she should pass as my mother. she was one of the few wives to whom i told my story. it did not shock her, for she believed her father to be a miracle-worker, and she had faith in many strange things. her great desire was to live as long as i should, and i think she believed that this might happen. she died at the age of one hundred and fifteen, and was lively and animated to the very last. my first american wife was a fine woman, too. she was a french creole, and died fifteen years ago. we had no children." [illustration: "'when we left cordova.'"] "it strikes me," i said suddenly, "that you must understand a great many languages--you speak so much of living with people of different nations." "it would be impossible," he answered, "unless i were void of ordinary intelligence, to live as long as i have, and not become a general linguist. of course i had to learn the languages of the countries i visited, and as i was always a student, it delighted me to do so. in fact, i not only studied, but i wrote. when the alexandrian library was destroyed, fourteen of my books were burned. when i was in italy with my first american wife, i visited the museum at naples, and in the room where the experts were unrolling the papyri found in pompeii, i looked over the shoulder of one of them, and, to my amazement, found that one of the rolls was an account-book of my own. i had been a broker in pompeii, and these were the records of moneys i had loaned, on interest, to various merchants and tradespeople. i was always fond of dealing in money, and at present i am a broker in wall street. during the first crusades i was a banker in genoa, and lent large sums to the noble knights who were setting forth for jerusalem." [illustration: "'i had been a broker in pompeii.'"] [illustration: "'i lent large sums to the noble knights.'"] "was much of it repaid?" i asked. "most of it. the loans were almost always secured by good property. as i look back upon the vast panorama of my life," my host continued, after a pause, "i most pleasantly recall my various intimacies with learned men, and my own studies and researches; but in the great company of men of knowledge whom i have known, there was not one in whom i was so much interested as in king solomon. i visited his court because i greatly wished to know a man who knew so much. it was not difficult to obtain access to him, for i came as a stranger from ethiopia, to the east of ethiopia, to the east of the red sea, and the king was always anxious to see intelligent people from foreign parts. i was able to tell him a good deal which he did not know, and he became fond of my society. "i found solomon a very well-informed man. he had not read and studied books as much as i had, and he had not had my advantages of direct intercourse with learned men; but he was a most earnest and indefatigable student of nature. i believe he knew more about natural history than any human being then living, or who had preceded him. whenever it was possible for him to do so, he studied animal nature from the living model, and all the beasts, birds, and fishes which it was possible for him to obtain alive were quartered in the grounds of his palace. in a certain way he was an animal-tamer. you may well imagine that this great king's wonderful possessions, as well as the man himself, were the source of continual delight to me. "the time-honored story of solomon's carpet on which he mounted and was wafted away to any place, with his retinue, had a good deal of foundation in fact; for solomon was an exceedingly ingenious man, and not only constructed parachutes by which people could safely descend from great heights, but he made some attempts in the direction of ballooning. i have seen small bags of thin silk, covered with a fine varnish made of gum to render them air-tight, which, being inflated with hot air and properly ballasted, rose high above the earth, and were wafted out of sight by the wind. many people supposed that in the course of time solomon would be able to travel through the air, and from this idea was derived the tradition that he really did so. "another of the interesting legends regarding king solomon concerned his dominion over the jinns. these people, of whom so much has been written and handed down by word of mouth, and who were supposed by subsequent generations to be a race of servile demons, were, in reality, savage natives of surrounding countries, who were forced by the king to work on his great buildings and other enterprises, and who occupied very much the position of the coolies of the present day. but that story of the dead solomon and the jinns who were at work on the temple gives a good idea of one of the most important characteristics of this great ruler. he was a man who gave personal attention to all his affairs, and was in the habit of overseeing the laborers on his public works. do you remember the story to which i refer?" i was obliged to say that i did not think i had ever heard it. "the story runs thus," said my host: "the jinns were at work building the temple, and solomon, according to his custom, overlooked them daily. at the time when the temple was nearly completed solomon felt that his strength was passing from him, and that he would not have much longer to live. this greatly troubled him, for he knew that when the jinns should find that his watchful eye would be no more upon them, they would rebel and refuse to work, and the temple would not be finished during his reign. therefore, as the story runs, he came, one day, into the temple, and hoped that he might be enabled to remain there until the great edifice should be finished. he stood leaning on his staff, and the jinns, when they beheld their master, continued to work, and work, and work. when night came solomon still remained standing in his accustomed place, and the jinns worked on, afraid to cease their toil for a moment. [illustration: solomon and the jinns.] "standing thus, solomon died; but the jinns did not know it, and their toil and labor continued, by night and by day. now, according to the tradition, a little white ant, one of the kind which devours wood, came up out of the earth on the very day on which solomon died, and began to gnaw the inside of his staff. she gnawed a little every day, until at last the staff became hollow from one end to the other; and on the day when she finished her work, the work of the jinns was also finished. then the staff crumbled, and the dead solomon fell, face foremost, to the earth. the jinns, perceiving that they had been slaving day and night for a master who was dead, fled away with yells of rage and vexation. but the glorious temple was finished, and king solomon's work was done. tabari tells this story, and it is also found in the koran; but the origin of it was nothing more than the well-known custom of solomon to exercise personal supervision over those who were working for him. "i was the person from whom solomon first heard of the queen of sheba. i had lived in her capital city for several years, and she had summoned me before her, and had inquired about the places i had visited and the things i had seen. what i said about this wonderful woman and the admirable administration of her empire interested solomon very much, and he was never tired of hearing me talk about her. at one time i believe he thought of sending me as an ambassador to her, but afterward gave up this notion, as i did not possess the rank or position which would have qualified me to represent him and his court; so he sent a suitable delegation, and, after a great deal of negotiation and diplomatic by-play, the queen actually determined to come to see solomon. soon after her arrival with her great retinue, she saw me, and immediately recognized me, and the first thing she said to me was that she perceived i had grown a good deal older than when i had been living in her domains. this delighted me, for before coming to jerusalem i had allowed my hair and beard to grow, and had dispensed with as much as possible of my ordinary erect mien and lightness of step; for i was very much afraid, if i were not careful, that the wise king would find out that there was something irregular in my longevity, and an old man may continue to look old much longer than a middle-aged man can continue to appear middle-aged. "it was a great advantage to me to find myself admitted to a certain intimacy with both the king and his visitor the queen. as i was a subject of neither of them, they seemed to think this circumstance allowed a little more familiarity than otherwise they would have shown. besides, my age had a great deal to do with the freedom with which they spoke to me. each of them seemed anxious to know everything i could tell about the other, and i would sometimes be subjected to embarrassing questions. "there is a great deal of extravagance and perversion in the historical and traditional accounts of the tricks which these two royal personages played upon each other. most of these old stories are too silly to repeat, but some of them had foundation in fact. they tell a tale of how the queen set five hundred boys and five hundred girls before the king, all the girls dressed as boys and all the boys dressed as girls, and then she asked him, as he was such a wise man, immediately to distinguish those of one sex from those of the other. solomon did not hesitate a moment, but ordering basins of water to be brought, he commanded the young people to wash their hands. thereupon he watched them closely, and as the boys washed only their hands, while the girls rolled up their sleeves and washed their arms as well as their hands, solomon was able, without any trouble, to pick out the one from the other. now, something of this kind really happened, but there were only ten boys and ten girls. but in the course of ages the story grew, and the whole thing was made absurd; for there never was a king in the world, nor would there be likely to be one, who could have a thousand basins ready immediately to put before a company who wished to wash their hands. but the result of this scheme convinced the queen that solomon was a man of the deepest insight into the manners and customs of human beings, as well as those of animals, birds, and fishes. "but there is an incident with which i was personally connected which was known at the time to very few people, and was never publicly related. the beautiful queen desired, above all other things, to know whether solomon held her in such high esteem because she was a mighty queen, or on account of her personal attractions; and in order to discover the truth in regard to this question, she devised a little scheme to which she made me a party. there was a young woman in her train, of surpassing beauty, whose name was liridi, and the queen was sure that solomon had never seen her, for it was her custom to keep her most beautiful attendants in the background. this maiden the queen caused to be dressed in the richest and most becoming robes, and adorned her, besides, with jewels and golden ornaments, which set off her beauty in an amazing manner. then, having made many inquiries of me in regard to the habits of solomon, she ordered liridi to walk alone in one of the broad paths of the royal gardens at the time when the king was wont to stroll there by himself. the queen wished to find out whether this charming apparition would cause the king to forget her for a time, and she ordered me to be in the garden, and so arrange my rambles that i could, without being observed, notice what happened when the king should meet liridi. i was on hand before the appointed time, and when i saw the girl walking slowly up the shaded avenue, i felt obliged to go to her and tell her that she was too soon, and that she must not meet solomon near the palace. as i spoke to her i was amazed at her wonderful beauty, and i did not believe it possible that the king could gaze upon her without such emotion as would make him forget for the moment every other woman in the world. "the queen had purposely made an appointment with him for the same hour, so that if he did not come she would know what was detaining him. at length solomon appeared at the far end of the avenue, and liridi began again her pensive stroll. when the king reached her, she retired to one side, her head bowed, as if she had not expected to meet royalty in this secluded spot. king solomon was deep in thought as he walked, but when he came near the maiden, he raised his eyes and suddenly stopped. i was near by, behind some shrubbery, and it was plain enough to me that he was dazzled by this lovely apparition. he asked her who she was, and when she had told him he gazed at her with still greater attention. then suddenly he laughed aloud. 'go tell the queen,' said he, 'that she hath missed her mark. the arrow which is adorned with golden trappings and precious stones cannot fly aright.' then he went on, still laughing to himself. in the evening he told me about this incident, and said that if the maiden had been arrayed in the simple robes which became her station he would have suspected nothing, and would probably have stopped to converse with her so long that he would have failed to keep his appointment with his royal guest. [illustration: "'go tell the queen'"] "the queen was very much annoyed at the ill success of her little artifice, but it was not long after this that she and the king discovered their true feeling for each other, and they were soon married. the wedding was a grand one--grander than tradition relates, grander than the modern mind can easily comprehend. when they went to the palace to sit for the first time in state before the vast assembly of dignitaries and courtiers, the queen found, beside the throne of solomon, her own throne, which he had caused to be brought from sheba in time for this occasion. this incident, i think, affected her more agreeably than anything else that happened. great were the festivities. honors and dignities were bestowed on every hand, and i might have come in for some substantial benefit had it not been that i committed a great blunder. i had fallen in love with the beautiful liridi, and as the queen seemed so gracious and kind to everybody, i made bold to go to her and ask that she would allow me to marry her charming handmaiden. but, to my surprise, this request angered the queen. she told me that such an old man as myself ought to be ashamed to take a young girl to wife; that she was opposed to such marriages; and that, in fact, i ought to be punished for even mentioning the subject. "i retired in disgrace, and very soon afterward i left jerusalem, for i have found, by varied experiences, that the displeasure of rulers is an unhealthful atmosphere in which to live. however, the queen of sheba did not get altogether the better of me. as you know, king solomon and his royal wife did not reign together very long. they ruled over two great kingdoms, each of which required the presence of its sovereign; so queen balkis soon went back to sheba with more wealth, more soldiers, more camels, horses, and grand surroundings of every kind, than she had brought with her. she carried in her baggage-train her royal throne, but she did not take with her the beautiful liridi. that lady had been given in marriage to an officer in solomon's army, and thirty years afterward, in the land of asshur, where her father was stationed, i married the youngest daughter of liridi. the latter was then dead, but my wife, with whom i lived happily for many years in phoenicia, was quite as beautiful. i was greatly inclined, at the time, to send a courier with a letter to the queen of sheba, informing her of what had happened; but i was afraid. she was then an elderly woman, and i was informed that age had actually sharpened her wits, so that if i had incensed her and given her reason to suspect the truth about my unnatural age, i believe there was no known country in which i could have concealed myself from her emissaries. "there are many, many incidents which crowd upon my memory," continued my host, "but--" and as he spoke he pulled out his watch. "my conscience!" he exclaimed, "it is twenty minutes past three! i should be ashamed of myself, mr. randolph, for having kept you up so long." we both rose to our feet, and i was about to say something polite, suited to the occasion, but he gave me no chance. "i felt i must talk to you," he said, speaking very rapidly. "i have discovered you to be a man of appreciation--a man who should hear my story. i have felt for some years that it would soon become impossible for me to conceal my experiences from my fellow-men. i believe mankind has now reached a stage of enlightenment--at least, in this country--when the person who makes strange discoveries which cannot be explained, and the person who announces facts which cannot be comprehended by the human mind, need not fear to be punished as a sorcerer, or thrust into a cell as a lunatic. i may be mistaken in regard to this latter point, but i think i am right. in any case, i do not wish to live much longer as i have been living. as i must live on, with generation after generation rising up about me, i want those generations to know before they depart from this earth that i am a person who does not die. i am tired of deceptions; i am tired of leaving the places where i have lived long and am known, and arriving in other places where i am a stranger, and where i must begin my life again. "i do not wish to be in a hurry to make my revelations to the world at large. i do not wish to startle people without being able to show them proof of what i say. i wish to speak only to persons who are worthy to hear my story, and i have begun with you. i do not want you to believe me until you are quite ready to do so. think over what i have said, consider it carefully, and make up your mind slowly. "you are a young man in good health, and you will, in all probability, live long enough to assure yourself of the truth or falsity of what i have told you about my indefinite longevity. i should be glad to relate my story to scientific men, to physicians, to students; but, as i have said, we shall wait for that. in the meantime, you may, if you choose, write down what i have told you, or as much of it as you remember. i have no written records of my past life. long, long ago i made such, but i destroyed them, for i knew not what evil they might bring upon me were they discovered. but you may write the little i have told you, and when you feel that the time has come, you may give it to the world. and now we must retire. it is wicked to keep you out of your bed any longer." "one word," said i. "do you intend now to tell your wife?" "yes," he answered, "i shall tell her tomorrow. having reposed confidence in you, it would be treating her shamefully if i should withhold that confidence from her. she has often said to me that i do not look a day older than when i married her. i want her now to know that i need never look a day older; i shall counterfeit old age no more." i did not sleep well during what was left of the night, for my mind went traveling backward and forward through the ages. the next morning, at breakfast, mr. crowder appeared in his ordinary good spirits, but his wife was very quiet. she was pale, and occasionally i thought i saw signs of trouble on her usually placid brow. i felt sure that he had told her his story. as i looked at her, i could not prevent myself from seriously wondering that a man who had seen abraham and sarah, and had been personally acquainted with the queen of sheba, should now be married to a quaker lady from north sixteenth street, philadelphia. after breakfast she found an opportunity of speaking to me privately. "do you believe," she asked very hurriedly, "what my husband told you last night--the story of his earthly immortality?" "i really do not know," i answered, "whether i believe it or not. my reason assures me that it is impossible; and yet there is in mr. crowder's manner so much sincerity, so much--" contrary to her usual habits, i am sure, she interrupted me. "excuse me," she said, "but i must speak while i have the chance. you must believe what my husband has said to you. he has told me everything, and i know that it is impossible for him to tell a lie. i have not yet arranged my ideas in regard to this wonderful revelation, but i believe. if the time should ever come when i shall know i should not believe, that will be another matter. but he is my husband. i know him, i trust him. will you not do the same?" "i will do it," i exclaimed, "until the time comes when i shall know that i cannot possibly do so." she gave me her hand, and i shook it heartily. [illustration: "she gave me her hand, and i shook it heartily."] iii about four months after my first acquaintance with mr. and mrs. crowder, i found myself again in new york; and when i called at the house of my friends, i received from them a most earnest invitation to take up my abode with them during my stay in the city. of course this invitation was eagerly accepted; for not only was the crowder house a home of the most charming hospitality, but my interest in the extraordinary man who was evidently so glad to be my host was such that not one day had passed since i last saw him in which i did not think of him, and consider his marvelous statements from every point of view which my judgment was capable of commanding. i found mr. crowder unchanged in appearance and manner, and his wife was the same charming young woman i had known. but there was nothing surprising in this. people generally do not change very much in four months; and yet, in talking to mr. crowder, i could not prevent myself from earnestly scanning his features to see if he had grown any older. he noticed this, and laughed heartily. "it is natural enough," he said, "that you should wish to assure yourself that there is a good foundation to your belief in what i have told you; but you are in too great a hurry: you must wait some years for that sort of proof, one way or the other. but i believe that you do believe in me, and i am not in the least disturbed by the way you look at me." after dinner, on the first day of my visit, when we were smoking together, i asked mr. crowder if he would not continue the recital of his experiences, which were of such absorbing interest to me that sometimes i found them occupying my mind to an extent which excluded the consideration of everything relating to myself and the present time. "from one point of view," he said, "that would be a bad thing for you: but i don't look at it in that way; in fact, i hope you may become my biographer. i will furnish you with material enough, and you can arrange it and put it in shape; that is, if, in the course of a few years, you consider that, in doing what i ask of you, you will be writing the true life of a man, and not a collection of fanciful stories. so i hope you may find that you have not lost your time when thinking so much of a man of the past." now, there is no doubt that i did most thoroughly believe in crowder. i had argued with myself against this belief to the utmost extent of my ability, and i had now given up the effort. if i should disbelieve him i would deprive myself of one of the most precious privileges of my existence, and i did not intend to do so until i found myself absolutely forced to admit that i was mistaken. time would settle all this, and all that i had to do now was to listen, enjoy, and be thankful for the opportunity. "i am not going to tell any stories now," he said, "for my wife has not overcome her dislike to tobacco smoke, and she has insisted that she shall be one of my hearers when i tell stories of my past life to you; but i can tell you this, my friend: she will believe every word i say; there can be no possible doubt of that. i have told her a good many things since i saw you last, and her faith in me is a joy unspeakable." of course i was delighted to hear that this charming lady was to be my fellow-auditor, and said so. "i often think of you two," said mr. crowder, contemplatively leaning back in his arm-chair. "i think of you together, but i am bound to say that the thought is not altogether pleasant." i showed my amazement at this remark. "it can't be helped," he said; "it can't be helped. it's one of the things i have to suffer. i have suffered it over and over again thousands of times, but i never get used to it. here you are, two young people, young enough to be my children: one is my wife; the other, i am proud to say, my best friend. you are the only persons in the world who know my story. you have faith in me, and the thought of that faith is the greatest pleasure of my life. year by year you two will grow older; year by year you will more nearly approach my own age, and become, according to the ordinary opinion of the world, more suitable companions for me. then you will reach my age. we shall be three gray-haired friends. then will come the saddening time, the mournful days. you two will grow older and older, and i shall remain where i am--always fifty-three. then you will grow to be elderly--elderly people; at last, aged people. if you live long enough i shall look up to you as i would to my parents." this was a state of things i had never contemplated. i could scarcely appreciate it. "of course," he continued, "i wish you both to live long; but don't you see how it affects me? but enough of that. here comes mrs. crowder, and with her all subjects must be pleasant ones." "i think thee must buy some short cigars," she said, just putting her head inside the door, "to smoke after dinner. if large ones are necessary, they can be smoked after i go to bed. i am getting very impatient; for now that mr. randolph is here, i believe that thee is going to be unusually interesting." we arose immediately, and joined mrs. crowder in the library. this lady's use of the plain speech customary with quakers was very pleasant to me. i had had but little acquaintance with it, and at first its independence of grammatical rules struck upon me unpleasantly; but i soon began to enjoy mrs. crowder's speech, when she was addressing her husband, much more than i did the remarks she made to me, the latter being always couched in the most correct english. there was a sweetness about her "thee" which had the quality of gentle music; and when she used the word "thy" it was pronounced so much like "thee" that i could scarcely perceive the difference. to her husband and child she always used the quaker speech of the present day; and as i did not like being set aside in this way, i said to her that i hoped there was no rule of the society of friends which would compel her to make a change in her form of speech when she addressed me. "if thee likes," she said, with a smile, "thee is welcome to all the plain speech thee wants." and after that, when she spoke to me, she did not turn me out among the world's people. "now, you know," said mr. crowder, "that i'm not going to play the part of an historian. that sort of discourse would bore me, and it would bore you. if there is any kind of thing that you would like to hear about, all you have to do is to ask me; and if you don't care to do this, i will tell you whatever comes up in my memory, without any regard to chronology or geography, just as i talked to you before. if i were to begin at the beginning and go straight along, even if i skipped ever so much, the story would--it would be a great deal too long." i am sure that mrs. crowder and i both felt what he did not wish to say--that we were not likely to live to hear it all. "there are a great many things i should like to ask thee," said mrs. crowder, speaking quickly, as if to change the subject of her thoughts; "but i believe i have forgotten most of them. but here is something i should like to know--that is," she said, turning to me, "if thee hasn't anything in thy mind which thee wishes to ask about?" i noticed that she pronounced "thy" very distinctly, a little bit of grammatical conscience probably obtruding itself. of course, i had nothing to ask, and she put her question: "what _did_ thee do in the dark ages?" crowder laughed. "that is a big question," said he, "and the only answer i can give you in a general way is that there were so many things that i was not able to do, or did not dare to do, that i look upon those centuries as the most disagreeable part of my whole life. but you must not suppose that everybody felt as i did. a great many of the people by whom i was surrounded at that doleful period appeared to be happier and better satisfied with their circumstances than any i have known before or after. there was little ambition, less responsibility; and if the poor and weak suffered from the rapacity and violence of the rich and strong, they accepted their misfortunes as if they were something they were bound to expect, such as bad weather. i am not going to talk history, and there is one thing that your question reminds me of. during that portion of the middle ages which is designated as dark, i employed myself in a great many different ways: i was laborer, sailor, teacher, and i cannot tell you what besides; but more frequently than anything else i was a teacher." "thee must have been an angel of light," mrs. crowder remarked. "no," said he; "an angel of light would have been very conspicuous in those days. i didn't pose for such a part. in fact, if i had not succeeded in appearing like a partial ignoramus i should have been obliged to go into a monastery, for in those days the monks were the only people who knew anything. they expected to do all the teaching that was done; but, for all that, a few scholars cropped up now and then, and here and there, who did not care to have monks for masters; and by instructing these in a very modest, quiet way i frequently managed to make a living." "i should think," i said, "that at any time and in any period you would have been a person of importance, with your experience and knowledge of men." mr. crowder shook his head. "no," said he; "not so. to make myself of importance in that time i must have been a soldier, and the profession of arms, you know, is one i have always avoided. a man who cannot be killed should take care that he be not wounded." "i am so glad that thee did take care," ejaculated mrs. crowder; "but even i cannot see how thee kept out of fighting in those disorderly times." "i did not keep out of it altogether, but in every possible way i tried to do so, and for the most part succeeded. whenever i was likely to be involved in military operations, i let my hair and beard grow, and the white-haired old man was usually exempted. i have had far more experience in keeping out of battles than any other human being has had in the art of winning them. but what you two want is a story, and i will give you one. "during some of the earlier years of the seventh century, i was living in ravenna, and there i had three or four scholars whom i taught occasionally. i did not dare to keep a regular school, with fixed hours and all that; but while i was not working at my trade, which was then that of a mason, i gave lessons to some young people in the neighborhood. sometimes i taught in the evening, sometimes in bad weather when we did not work out of doors. no one of my scholars showed any intelligence, except a girl about eighteen years old. her father, i think, was a professional robber, for his family lived very well, and he was generally absent from home at the head of a little band of desperate fellows, of whom there were a great many in that region. "this girl, whose name was rina, had an earnest desire for knowledge, and showed a great capacity for imbibing it and retaining it. in fact, i believe she was the most intelligent person in that region." "was she pretty?" asked mrs. crowder. "yes," replied her husband; "she was very good-looking. i was so interested in her desire for knowledge that i taught her a great deal more than i would have dared to teach anybody else; and the more i taught, the more she wanted to learn. "i soon became very much concerned about rina. some man of the neighborhood, old or young, would be sure to marry her before very long, and then there would be an end of the development of what i considered the brightest intellect of the day." "so to keep that from happening to her, thee married her thyself?" asked mrs. crowder. her husband smiled. "yes; that is what i did. you know," he said, addressing me, "that i believe that mrs. crowder takes more interest in my marriages than in anything else i have done in the course of my career." "certainly i do," she said, with a little flush. "of course thee had to be married, and it is natural enough that i should want to know whom thee married, and all about it." "well," said mr. crowder, "we must get on with this. a priest with whom i was acquainted married us, and we immediately fled from ravenna. after a year or two of wandering through benighted countries where even kings and rulers could not write their names, and where reading seemed to be a lost art, except in the monasteries, we made up our minds, if possible, we would go from darkness into light, and so we set out on a journey to china." at this statement mrs. crowder and i looked surprised. "i don't wonder you open your eyes," said he. "it must seem odd to you, unless you are very familiar with the history of the period, that we should go from europe to china in search of enlightenment and civilization; but that is what we did, and we found what we looked for. as the pope had sent an envoy to china, and as some nestorian missionaries had gone there, i believed that we could go. "this journey to the chinese province of nan-hae occupied the greater part of five years; but to me personally that was of no account, for i had time enough. although we passed through all sorts of hardships and dangers, my wife was greatly interested in the strange things and people she met. sometimes we traveled by water, sometimes on horses and asses, and very often we walked. during the last part of the journey we joined a caravan which went through central asia. "at that time china was ruled by a woman, the empress woo. for a long time back there had been a period of great intellectual activity in china. literature and the arts flourished, and while the great personages of europe did not know how to write, these people were printing from wooden blocks. "the empress was a remarkable woman. she had been one of the widows of a monarch, and when his son succeeded to the throne she married him. she had great ambition and great ability. she put down her enemies, and she put herself forward. she took her husband's place in all the imperial consultations and decisions, and very soon set him aside, and for forty years was actual ruler of the empire. "she was a great woman, this empress woo. very little happened in her dominions that she did not know, and when two wanderers arrived from the far and unknown west, she sent for me and my wife to appear before her at the palace. we were received with much favor, for we could do her no possible harm, and she was very eager for knowledge. my wife was an object of great curiosity to her, as she was so different from the chinese women. but as poor rina could never acquire a word of the language of the country, the empress soon ceased to take interest in her. as i was always very good at picking up languages, she had me at the palace a great deal, asking all sorts of questions about the western countries and people. i was also able to tell her much about bygone ages, which information she thought, of course, i had acquired by reading. [illustration: "'asking all sorts of questions.'"] "one day the empress asked me about the marriage customs in the west, and wanted to know how many wives a man could have in our country. she seemed to be so much in earnest, as she spoke, that i was frightened. i did not know what to answer. but fortunately one of her generals was announced, and she did not press the question. as i was leaving the palace, one of the officers of the court took me aside, and told me that the empress was thinking of marrying me, and that i had better put on some fine clothes when i came again. this was terrible news, but i was bound to tell my wife, and we sat up all night talking about it. to escape from that region would have been impossible. we were obliged to stay and face the inevitable, whatever it might be. "the question which rina and i had to decide was a very simple one, but terribly difficult for all that. if i should tell the empress that men of my country believed that it was right to have but one wife, rina would quickly be disposed of; so she had to decide whether she would prefer to die so that i might marry the empress, or to preserve her life and lose her undivided possession of a husband." "i know what i would have done," said mrs. crowder, her eyes very bright; "i would have let her kill me. i would never have consented for thee to marry the wretch." "that would have pleased her," said mr. crowder; "for she would have had me all the same, and you would have been out of the way." "then i would not have died," said the little quakeress, almost fiercely; "i would not have done anything to please her. but i don't know. what did thee and thy wife do?" "we talked and talked and talked," said mr. crowder, "and at last i persuaded her to live; that is to say, not to make herself an obstacle to the wishes of the empress. it was a terrible trial, but she consented. the more insignificant she became, i told her, the greater her chances of safety. "the next day the empress sent for me, as i was sure she would do. "'you did not tell me,' she said, 'how many wives your men have.' 'that all depends upon the will of our sovereign,' i replied; 'in matrimonial affairs we do as we are commanded. when we have no commands from the throne, our circumstances regulate the matter.'" "thee did tell a dreadful lie while thee was about it," said mrs. crowder, "but i suppose thee had to." "you are right there," said her husband; "and my answer pleased the empress. 'that is what i like,' she said. 'the monarch should settle all these matters. i hope some day to settle them in this country.' then, without any hesitation or preface, she announced her intention of marrying me. 'i greatly need,' she said, 'a learned man for an imperial consort. my present husband knows nothing. i never trust him with any affairs of state. but i have never asked you anything to which you did not give me a satisfactory answer.' now, my dear," said mr. crowder, "you see the reward of vanity. if i had pretended to be a fool instead of aspiring to be a philosopher and an historian, i should never have attracted the interest of the queen." "and did thee marry her?" asked his wife. "i do so pity poor rina!" "i'll tell you how it turned out," he continued. "after pressing me a good deal, the empress said: 'i had intended to marry you in a few days, or as soon as the preparations could be made; but i have now postponed that ceremony. i find that military affairs must occupy me for some time, and it would be better for me at present to marry one of my generals. a military man is what the country needs. but i shall want a counselor of your sort very soon, so you must hold yourself ready to marry me whenever i shall notify you.' "my instincts prompted me to ask her what the imperial general might be apt to think about the increase in her matrimonial forces, but i was wise enough to hold my tongue. when the general should cease to be of use to her, i knew very well that he would not be likely to offer opposition to anything on earth." "how glad i am," ejaculated mrs. crowder, "that thee didn't ask any questions, and that thee consented to everything the wicked creature said!" "so am i," he replied; "and i was glad to get out of that palace, which i never entered again. from that day i began to grow old as fast as i could. my hair and beard became very long; i ate but little; i stooped more and more each day, and walked with a staff. i began to be very forgetful when people asked me questions. about a year afterward the queen saw me. i was in the crowd near the palace, where i had purposely gone that i might be seen. she looked at me, but gave no sign that she recognized me. the next day an officer came to me, and roughly told me that the empress had no use for dotards in her dominions, and that the sooner i went away the better for me. i afterward heard that the execution of two strangers had been ordered, but that a certain superstition in the mind of the empress had prevented this. she had heard, through persons who had met the nestorians, that people of our country were protected in some strange manner which she did not understand. [illustration: "'and roughly told me.'"] "rina and i could not leave china, for i had now no money; but we went to a distant province, where i lived for more than ten years, passing as a chinaman." "and rina--poor rina?" asked mrs. crowder. "she soon died," said her husband. "she was in a state of fear nearly all the time. she could not speak the language, and it may be said that she gave up her life in her pursuit of knowledge. in this respect she was as wonderful a woman as was the empress woo." "and a thousand times better," said mrs. crowder, earnestly. "and then?" "then," said her husband, "i married a chinese woman." "what!" exclaimed mrs. crowder, her eyes almost round. "yes, my dear; it was a great deal safer for me to be married, and to become as nearly as possible like the people by whom i was surrounded." "but thee didn't have several wives, did thee?" asked mrs. crowder. "oh, no," he answered; "i was too poor for anything of that kind to be expected of me. when an opportunity came to join a caravan and get away, i took my chinese wife with me, and eventually reached arabia. there we stayed for a long time, for i found it impossible to prosecute my journeying. eventually, however, we reached the island of malta, where my wife lived to be over seventy. travel, hardships, and danger seemed to agree with her. she never spoke any language but her own, and as she was of a quiet disposition, and took no interest in the things she saw, she generally passed as an imbecile. but she was the first chinese woman who ever visited europe." "i guess thee was very sorry thee brought her before thee got through with her. i don't approve of that matrimonial alliance at all," said mrs. crowder. during this and succeeding evenings of narration, it must not be supposed i sat silent, making no remarks upon what i heard; but, in fact, what i said was of hardly any importance, and certainly not worth introducing into this account of mr. crowder's experiences. but the effect of his words upon mrs. crowder, as shown both by the play of her features and her frequent questions and exclamations, interested me almost as much as the statements of my host. i had previously known her as the gentlest, the sweetest, and the most attractive of my female acquaintances; but now i found her to be a woman of keen intellect and quick appreciation. her remarks, which were very frequent, and which i shall not always record, were like seasoning and spice to the narrative of mr. crowder. never before had a wife heard such stories from a husband, and there never could have been a woman who would have heard them with such religious faith. naturally, she showed me a most friendly confidence. the fact that we were both the loyal disciples of one master was a bond between us. he was so much older than either of us, and he regarded us sometimes with what looked so much like parental affection, that it would not have been surprising if persons, not believers as we were, should have entertained the idea that, in course of time, he would pass away, and that we two should be left to comfort each other as well as we might. but i, who had heard my friend speak of the coming years, could not forget the picture he had drawn of two aged and feeble people, looked up to in love and veneration by a fresh and hearty man of fifty-three. "thee never seemed to have any trouble in getting married," said mrs. crowder. "did thee ever stay an old bachelor any length of time?" crowder laughed. such questions from his wife amused him very much. "i was thinking of changing the subject," said he, "and was about to tell you something which had not anything to do with wives and marriages. i thought you might be tired of that sort of thing." "not at all," said she, quickly; "that's just what i want to hear." "very well," answered he; "i will give you a little instance of one of my failures in love-making. "it was long before my visit to empress woo; in fact, it was about eleven hundred years before christ, and i was living in syria, where i was teaching school in the little town of timnath. i became very much interested in one of the girls of my class. she was a good deal older than any of the others; in fact, she was a young woman. she had a bright mind, and was eager to learn, and i naturally became interested in her; and in the course of time she pleased me so much that i determined to marry her." "it seems thee was in the habit of marrying thy scholars," said mrs. crowder. "there is nothing very strange in that," he replied; "a schoolmaster usually becomes very well acquainted with some of his scholars, and if a girl pleases him very much it is not surprising that he should prefer to marry her, or, at least, to try to, than to go out among comparative strangers to look for a wife." "if i had been in thy place," said mrs. crowder, reflectively, "sometimes i would have enjoyed a long rest of bachelordom; it would have been a variety." "oh, i have had variety of that kind," said he. "for many succeeding decades i have been widower, or bachelor, whichever you choose to call it. "as i was saying, this girl pleased me very much. she was good-looking, bright, and witty, and her dark, flashing eyes won her a great deal of attention from the young men of the place; but she would not have anything to do with them. they could not boast much in regard to intelligence or education, nor were any of them in very good circumstances; and so, in spite of my years, she seemed to take very kindly to me, and i made up my mind i would marry her the approaching autumn. i had some money, and there was a house with a piece of land for sale near the town. this i planned to buy, and to settle down as an agriculturist. i was tired of school-teaching." "no wonder," said mrs. crowder, "as thee intended to take out of it its principal attraction." "we were walking, one evening, over the fields, talking of astronomy, in which she took a great interest, when we saw a man approaching who was evidently a stranger. he was a fellow of medium height, but he gave the impression of great size and vigor. as he came nearer, striding over the rough places, and paying no attention to paths, i saw that he was very broad-shouldered, with a heavy body and thick neck. his legs were probably of average size, but they looked somewhat small in comparison with his body and his long arms, which swung by his sides as he walked. he was a young man, bushy-bearded, with bright and observant eyes. as he passed us, he looked very hard at my companion, and, i am sorry to say, she turned her head and gazed steadfastly at him. [illustration: "'she turned her head.'"] "'that's a fine figure of a man,' she said. 'he looks strong enough for anything.' "i didn't encourage her admiration. 'he might be made useful on a farm,' i said; 'if his legs were as big as the rest of him, he could draw a plow as well as an ox.' "she made no answer to this; but her interest in astronomy seemed to decrease, and she soon proposed that we should turn back to the town. on the way we met the stranger again, and this time he stopped and asked us some questions about the country and the neighborhood. all the time we were talking he and my scholar were looking at each other, and each of them seemed entirely satisfied with the survey. the next day the girl was very inattentive at school, and in the afternoon, when i hoped to take a walk with her, i could not find her, and went out by myself. before long i saw her sitting under a tree, talking to the stranger of yesterday." "she was a regular flirt," said mrs. crowder. "apparently she was," replied her husband; "but although i might have excused her, considering how much better suited this stranger was to her, in point of years at least, i was not willing to withdraw and leave her to another, especially as he might be a person entirely unworthy of her. "i did not disturb them, but i went back to the town and made some inquiries about the stranger. i found that he was a danite, and lived with his parents in zorah, and that his name was samson. i also learned that his family was possessed of considerable means. "it soon became plain that it would not be easy for me to carry out my marriage plans and settle down among my vines and fig-trees. samson went home, told his parents of his desire to marry this girl, and in the course of time they all came down to timnath and made regular matrimonial propositions to her parents." "was this the great samson who tore lions apart and threw down temples?" asked mrs. crowder, in amazement. "the very man," was the reply; "and he was the most formidable rival i ever had in that sort of affair. the proper thing for me to do, according to the custom of the times, would have been to take him aside, as soon as i found that he was paying attentions to my sweetheart, and fight him; but the more i looked at him and his peculiar proportions, the more i was convinced that he was not a man with whom i wanted to fight." "i should think not," said mrs. crowder. "how glad i am thee never touched him!" "the result might not have been disastrous to me," he said; "for although i have always avoided military matters as much as possible, i was probably better versed in the use of a sword than he was. but i did not care to kill him, and from what i heard of him afterward, i am sure that if he had ever got those long arms around me i should have been a mass of broken bones. "so, taking everything into consideration, i gave up my plan to marry this girl of timnath; and i was afterward very glad i did so, for she proved a tricky creature, and entered into a conspiracy to deceive her husband, actually weeping before him seven days in order to worm out of him the secret of his strength." "i suppose thee never met delilah?" asked mrs. crowder. "oh, no," he answered; "before samson was married i left that part of the world, and i did not make the acquaintance of the attractive young person who was so successful in the grand competition of discovering the source of samson's strength. in fact, it was nearly a hundred years after that before i heard of those great exploits of samson which have given him such widespread fame." "i am glad thee never met delilah," said mrs. crowder, reflectively; "for thee, too, was possessed of a great secret, and she might have gained it from thee." iv "i think thee was in great danger," continued mrs. crowder, "in that samson business. it makes me shudder to think, even now, of what might have happened to thee." "there was not much danger," said he; "for all i had to do was to withdraw, and there was an end to the matter. i have often and often been in greater danger than that. for instance, i was in the army of xerxes, compelled to enter it simply because i happened to be in persia. my sympathies were entirely with the greeks. my age did not protect me at all. everybody who in any way could be made useful was dragged into that army. it was known that i had a knowledge of engineering and surveying, and i was taken into the army to help build bridges and lay out camps. "here it was that i saw the curious method of counting the soldiers which was adopted by the officers of xerxes's army. as you may have read, ten thousand men were collected on a plain and made to stand close together in a mass nearly circular in shape. then a strong fence, with a wide gate to the west and another to the east, was built around them, and i was engaged in the constructing and strengthening of this fence. when the fence was finished, the men were ordered to march out of the inclosure, and other soldiers marched in until it was again entirely filled. this process was repeated until the whole army had been in the inclosure. thus they got rid of the labor of counting--measuring the army instead of enumerating it. but the results were not accurate. i was greatly interested in the matter, and on three occasions i stood at the exit gate as the soldiers were coming out, and counted them, and the number never amounted to ten thousand. one counting showed less than seven thousand, --the men did not pack themselves together as closely as they were packed the first time,--so i am confident that xerxes's army was not so large as it was reported to be. "i became so much interested in the operations and constitution of this great horde of soldiers, attendants, animals, vehicles, and ships, that i went about looking at everything and getting all the information possible. in these days i would have been a war correspondent, and i did act somewhat in that capacity; for i told herodotus a great many of the facts which he put into his history of this great campaign." "thee knew herodotus?" his wife asked. "oh, yes; i worked with him a long time, and gave him information which helped him very much in writing his histories; but it would have been of greater advantage to the world if he had adhered more closely to my statements. i told him what i discovered in regard to the enumeration of the army of xerxes, but he wanted to make that army as big as he could, and he paid little attention to my remonstrances. "herodotus was only four years old when xerxes invaded greece, and of course all his knowledge concerning that expedition was second-hand, and by the time he began to write his history of the campaign there were very few people living who knew anything personally about it. if he had not been a man so entirely wrapped up in his own work he would have wondered how any one of my apparent age could give him so much in the way of personal experience; but he seemed to have no suspicions, and, at any rate, asked no questions, and as i had a great desire that this remarkable historical event should be fully recorded, i helped him as much as i could. "i had been assisting in the construction of the canal behind mount athos, which xerxes made in order to afford a short cut for his vessels, and as i had frequently climbed into the various portions of the mountain in order to make surveys of the country below, i had obtained a pretty good knowledge of the neighborhood; and when disaster after disaster began to hurl themselves upon this unfortunate multitude of invaders, i took measures for my safety. i did not want to go back to persia, even if i could go there, which looked very doubtful after the battle of salamis, and as i had come into the country with the persians, it might have been unsafe to show myself with the greeks; so, remembering what i had seen of the wild regions of mount athos, i made my way there, with the intention of dwelling in its rocky fastnesses until the country should become safe for the ordinary wayfarer. as there was no opportunity of teaching school on that desolate mountain--" "and marrying one of thy scholars," interpolated mrs. crowder. "--i became a sort of hermit," he continued; "but i did not spend my time after the usual fashion of the conventional hermit, who lives on water-cresses and reads great books with a skull to keep the pages open. i built myself a rude cabin under a great rock, and lived somewhat after the fashion of the other inhabitants of that wild region, mostly robbers and outlaws. as i had nothing which any one would want to steal, i was not afraid of them, and i could occasionally be of a little service to them, especially in the way of rude medical attendance, for which they were willing to pay me by giving me now and then some food. "i had laid in a stock of writing-materials before i went up on the mountain, and i now went to work with great enthusiasm to set down what i knew of the expedition of xerxes, and here it was that i made the notes which were afterward so useful to herodotus. "when the country became quieter i went down into the plains, looked over the battle-fields, and obtained a great deal of information from the villagers and country people. i stayed here nearly two years, and had a pretty hard time of it; but when i went away i took with me a very valuable collection of notes. "for many years i made no use of these notes; but being in halicarnassus, i heard of herodotus, who was described as a great scholar and traveler, and engaged in writing history. to him i applied without loss of time, and i made a regular engagement, working several hours with him every day. for this he paid me weekly a sum equal to about two dollars and seventy-five cents of our present money; but it was enough to support me, and i was very glad to have the opportunity of sending some of my experiences and observations down into history. it was at this time that the love of literary work began to arise within me, and in the next three or four centuries after the death of herodotus i wrote a number of books on various subjects and under various names, and some of these, as i mentioned before, were destroyed with the alexandrian library. "it was in this period that i made the acquaintance of an editor--the first editor, in fact, of whom i know anything at all. i was in rhodes, and there was a learned man there named andronicus, who was engaged in editing the works of aristotle. all the manuscripts and books which that great philosopher left behind him had been given to a friend, or trustee, and had passed from this person into the possession of others, so that for about a hundred years the world knew nothing of them. then they came into the hands of andronicus, who undertook to edit them and get them into proper shape for publication. i went to andronicus, and as soon as he found i was a person qualified for such work, he engaged me as his assistant editor. i held this position for several years, and two or three of the books of aristotle i transcribed entirely with my own hand, properly shaping sentences and paragraphs, and very often making the necessary divisions. from my experience with andronicus, i am sure that none of the works of aristotle were given to the world exactly as he wrote them, for we often found his manuscript copies very rough and disjointed so far as literary construction is concerned, but i will also say that we never interfered with his philosophical theories or his scientific statements and deductions." "in all that time thee never married?" asked mrs. crowder. crowder and i could not help laughing. "i did not say so," said he, "but i will say that, with one exception, i do not remember any interesting matrimonial alliances which occurred during the period of my literary labors. i married a young woman of rhodes, and gave her a very considerable establishment, which i was able to do, for andronicus paid me much better than herodotus had done; but she did not prove a very suitable helpmeet, and i believe she married me simply because i was in fairly good circumstances. she soon showed that she preferred a young man to an elderly student, the greater part of whose time was occupied with books and manuscripts, and we had not been married a year when she ran away with a young goldsmith, and disappeared from rhodes, as i discovered, on a vessel bound for rome. i resigned myself to my loss, and did not even try to obtain news of her. i was too much engrossed in my work to be interested in a runaway wife. "it was a little more than half a century after this that i was in rome and sitting on the steps of one of the public buildings in the forum. i was waiting to meet some one with whom i had business, and while i sat there an old woman stopped in front of me. she was evidently poor, and wretchedly dressed; her scanty hair was gray, and her face was wrinkled and shrunken. i thought, of course, she was a beggar, and was about to give her something, when she clasped her hands in front of her and exclaimed, 'how like! how like! how like!' 'like whom?' said i. 'what are you talking about?' 'like your father,' she said, 'like your father! you are so like him, you resemble him so much in form and feature, in the way you sit, in everything, that you must be his son!' 'i have no doubt i am my father's son,' said i, 'and what do you know about him?' 'i married him,' she said. 'for nearly a year i was his wife, and then i foolishly ran away and left him. what became of him i know not, nor how long he lived, but he was a great deal older than i was, and must have passed away many years ago. but thou art his image. he had the same ruddy face, the same short white hair, the same broad shoulders, the same way of crossing his legs as he sat. he must have married soon after i left him. tell me, whom did he marry? what was thy mother's name?' i gave her the name of my real mother, and she shook her head. 'i never heard of her,' she said. 'did thy father ever speak of me, a wife who ran away from him?' 'yes; he has spoken of you--that is, if you are zalia, the daughter of an oil-merchant of rhodes?' [illustration: "'how like!'"] "'i am that woman,' she exclaimed, 'i am that woman! and did he mourn my loss?' "'not much, i think, not much.' then i became a little nervous, for if this old woman talked to me much longer i was afraid, in spite of the fact that i was an elderly man when she was a girl, that she would become convinced that i could not be the son of the man who had once been her husband, but must be that man himself. so i hastily excused myself on the plea of business, and after having given her some money i left her." "and did thee never see her again?" his wife asked, almost with tears in her eyes. "no, i never saw her again," said mr. crowder; "i was careful not to do that: but i did not neglect her; i caused good care to be taken of her until she died." there was a slight pause here, and then mrs. crowder said: "thee has known a great deal of poverty; in nearly all thy stories thee is a poor man." "there is good reason for that," said mr. crowder; "poor people frequently have more adventures, at least more interesting ones, than those who are in easy circumstances. possession of money is apt to make life smoother and more commonplace; so, in selecting the most interesting events of my career to tell you, i naturally describe periods of comparative poverty--and there were some periods in which i was in actual want of the necessaries of life. "but you must not suppose that i have always been poor. i have had my periods of wealth, but, as i explained to you before, it was very difficult, on account of the frequent necessity of changing my place of residence, as well as my identity, to carry over my property from one set of conditions to another. however, i have often been able to do this, and at one time i was in comfortable circumstances for nearly two hundred years. but generally, when i found myself obliged to leave a place where i had been living, for fear of suspicion concerning my age, i had to leave everything behind me. "i will tell you a little story about one of my attempts, to provide for the future. it was toward the end of the fifteenth century, about the time that columbus set out on his first voyage of discovery,--and you would be surprised, considering the important results of his voyage, to know how little sensation it caused in europe,--that i devised a scheme by which i thought i might establish for myself a permanent fortune. i was then living in genoa, and was carrying on the same business in which i am now engaged. i was a broker, a dealer in money and commercial paper. i was prosperous and well able to carry out the plan i had formed. this plan was a simple one. i would purchase jewels, things easily carried about or concealed, and which would be valuable in any country or any age; and with this idea in my mind i spent many years in collecting valuable stones and jewels, confining myself generally to rings, for i wished to make the bulk of my treasures very small when compared with their value. "about the middle of the sixteenth century i went to rome, and took my jewels with me. they were then a wonderfully fine collection of gems, some of them of great antiquity and value; for, in gradually gathering them together, the enthusiasm of the collector had possessed me, and i often traveled far to possess myself of a valuable jewel of which i had heard. i remained in rome as long as i dared do so, and then prepared to set out for egypt, which i had not visited for a long time, and where i expected to find interesting though depressing changes. i concluded, naturally enough, that it would be dangerous for me to take my treasures with me, and i could conceive of no place where it would be better to leave them than in the eternal city. rome was central and comparatively easy of access from any part of the world, and, moreover, was less liable to changes than any other place; so i determined to leave my treasures in rome, and to put them somewhere where they were not likely to be disturbed by the march of improvement, by the desolations of war and conquest, or to become lost to me by the action of nature. i decided to bury them in the catacombs. with these ancient excavations i was familiar, and i believed that in their dark and mysterious recesses i could conceal my jewels, and that i could find them again when i wanted them. "i procured a small box made of thick bronze, and in this i put all my rings and gems, and with them i inclosed several sheets of parchment, on which i had written, with the fine ink the monks used in engrossing their manuscripts, a detailed description, and frequently a history, of every one of these valuable objects. having securely fastened up the box, i concealed it in my clothing and then made my way to the catacombs. "it was a dark and rainy evening, and as the entrances to the catacombs were not guarded in those days, it was not difficult for me to make my way unseen into their interior. i had brought with me a tinder-box and several rushlights, and as soon as i felt secure from observation from the outside i struck a light and began my operations. then, according to a plan i had previously made, i slowly walked along the solemn passageway which i had entered. "my plan of procedure was a very simple one, and i had purposely made it so in order that it might be more easily remembered. i was well acquainted with the position of the opening by which i had entered. for several days i had studied carefully its relation to other points in the surrounding country. starting from this opening, my plan was to proceed inward through the long corridor until i came to a transverse passage; to pass this until i reached another; to pass this also, and to go on until i came to a third; then i would turn to my left and proceed until i had passed two other transverse passages and reached a third; then i would again turn to my left and count the open tombs on my left hand. when i reached the third tomb i would stop. thus there would be a series of three threes, and it was scarcely possible that i could forget that. "at this period a great many of the tombs were open, having been despoiled even of the few bones they contained. the opening at which i stopped was quite a large one, and when i put my light inside i found it was entirely empty. "lighting another rush-candle, i stuck it in the bottom of the tomb, which was about four feet above the floor of the passage, and drawing my large dagger, i proceeded to dig a hole in the left-hand corner nearest the front. the earth was dry and free from stones, and i soon made a hole two feet deep, at the bottom of which i placed my box. then i covered it up, pressing the earth firmly down into the hole. when this was entirely filled, i smoothed away the rest of the earth i had taken out, and after i finished my work, the floor of the tomb did not look as if it had been disturbed. then i went away, reached the passage three tombs from me, turned to the right, went on until i reached the third transverse passage, then went on until i came to the entrance. it was raining heavily, but i was glad to get out into the storm." [illustration: "'i proceeded to dig a hole.'"] "now, please hurry on," said mrs. crowder. "when did thee get them again?" "a great many things happened in egypt," said mr. crowder, "some pleasant and some unpleasant, and they kept me there a long time. after that i went to constantinople, and subsequently resided in greece and in venice. i lived very comfortably during the greater part of this period, and therefore there was no particular reason why i should go after my jewels. so it happened that, for one cause or another, i did not go back to rome until early in the nineteenth century, and i need not assure you that almost the first place i visited was the catacombs. "after three hundred years of absence i found the entrance, but if i had not so well noted its position in relation to certain ruins and natural objects i should not have recognized it. it was not now a wide opening through which a man might walk; it was a little hole scarcely big enough for a fox to crawl through; in fact, i do not believe there would have been any opening there at all if it had not been for the small animals living in the catacombs, which had maintained this opening for the purpose of going in and out. it was broad daylight when i found this entrance. of course i did not attempt to do anything then, but in the night, when there was no moon, i came with a spade. i enlarged the hole, crawled through, and after a time found myself in a passageway, which was unobstructed." "now, hurry on," said mrs. crowder. "i brought no rushlights with me this time," said mr. crowder. "i had a good lantern, and i walked steadily on until i came to the third transverse passage; i turned to the left, counted three more passages; i turned to the left, i walked on slowly, i examined the left-hand wall, and apparently there were no open tombs. this startled me, but i soon found that i had been mistaken. i saw some tombs which were not open, but which had been opened and were now nearly filled with the dust of ages. i stopped before the first of these; then i went on and clearly made out the position of another; then i came to the third: that was really open, although the aperture was much smaller than it had been. it did not look as i remembered it, but without hesitation i took a trowel which i had brought with me, and began to dig in the nearest left-hand corner. "i dug and i dug until i had gone down more than two feet; then i dug on and on until, standing in the passage as i was, i could not reach down any deeper into the hole i had made. so i crawled into the tomb, crouched down on my breast, and dug down and down as far as i could reach. "then," said mr. crowder, looking at us as he spoke, "i found the box." a great sigh of relief came from mrs. crowder. "i was so afraid," said she--"i was so afraid it had sunk out of reach." "no," said he; "its weight had probably made it settle down, and then the dust of ages, as i remarked before, had accumulated over it. that sort of thing is going on in rome all the time. but i found my box, and, after hours and hours of wandering, i got out of the catacombs." "how was that?" we both asked. "i was so excited at the recovery of my treasures after the lapse of three centuries that when i turned into the first passage i forgot to count those which crossed it, and my mind became so thoroughly mixed up in regard to this labyrinth that i don't know when i would have found my way out if i had not heard a little animal--i don't know what it was --scurrying away in front of me. i followed it, and eventually saw a little speck of light. that proved to be the hole through which i had come in." "what did thee do with the jewels?" asked mrs. crowder. her husband looked at his watch, and then held it with the face toward her. she gave a cry of surprise, and we all went up-stairs to bed. v "now, my dear," said mrs. crowder, the moment we had finished dinner on the next evening, "i want thee to tell us immediately what thee did with the jewels. i have been thinking about that all day; and i believe, if i had been with thee, i could have given thee some good advice, so that the money thee received for these treasures would have lasted thee a long time." "i have thought on that subject many times," said mr. crowder, "not only in regard to this case, but others, and have formed hundreds of plans for carrying my possessions into another set of social conditions; but the fact of being obliged to change my identity always made it impossible for me to avail myself of the advantages of commercial paper, legal deeds, and all titles to property." "thee might have put thy wealth into solid gold--great bars and lumps. those would be available in any country and in any age, and they wouldn't have had anything to do with thy identity," said his wife. "it was always difficult for me to carry about or even conceal such golden treasures, but i have sometimes done it. however, as you are in such a hurry to hear about the jewels, i will let all other subjects drop. when i reached my lodgings in rome, i opened the box, and found everything perfect; the writing on the sheets of parchment was still black and perfectly legible, and the jewels looked just as they did when i put them into the box." "i cannot imagine," interrupted mrs. crowder, "how thee remembered what they looked like after the lapse of three hundred years." mr. crowder smiled. "you forget," he said, "that since i first reached the age of fifty-three there has been no radical change in me, physical or mental. my memory is just as good now as it was when i reached my fifty-third birthday, in the days of abraham. it is impossible for me to forget anything of importance, and i remembered perfectly the appearance of those gems. but my knowledge of such things had been greatly improved by time and experience, and after i had spent an hour or two looking over my treasures, i felt sure that they were far more valuable than they were when they came into my possession. in fact, it was a remarkable collection of precious stones, considering it in regard to its historic as well as its intrinsic value. "i shall not attempt to describe my various plans for disposing of my treasures; but i soon found that it would not be wise for me to try to sell them in rome. i had picked out one of the least valuable engraved stones, and had taken it to a lapidary, who readily bought it at his own valuation, and paid me with great promptness; but after he had secured it he asked me so many questions about it, particularly how i had come into possession of it, that i was very sure that he had made a wonderful bargain, and was also convinced that it would not do for me to take any more of my gems to him. those roman experts knew too much about antique jewels. "i went to naples, where i had a similar experience. then i found it would be well for me, if i did not wish to be arrested as a thief who had robbed a museum, to endeavor to sell my collection as a whole in some other country. as a professional dealer in gems from a foreign land i would be less liable to suspicion than if i endeavored to peddle my jewels one at a time. so i determined to go to madrid and try to sell my collection there. "when i reached spain i found the country in a great turmoil. this was in , when napoleon was on the point of invading spain; but as politicians, statesmen, and military men were not in the habit of buying ancient gems, i still hoped that i might be able to transact the business which had brought me to the country. my collection would be as valuable to a museum then as at any time; for it was not supposed that the french were coming into the country to ravage and destroy the great institutions of learning and art. i made acquaintances in madrid, and before long i had an opportunity of exhibiting my collection to a well-known dealer and connoisseur, who was well acquainted with the officers of the royal museum. i thought it would be well to sell them through his agency, even though i paid him a high commission. "if i should say that this man was astounded as well as delighted when he saw my collection, i should be using very feeble expressions; for, carried away by his enthusiasm, he did not hesitate to say to me that it was the most valuable collection he had ever seen. even if the stones had been worthless in themselves, their historic value was very great. of course he wanted to know where i had obtained these treasures, and i informed him truthfully that i had traveled far and wide in order to gather them together. i told him the history of many of them, but entirely omitted mentioning anything which would give a clue to the times and periods when i had come into possession of them. "this dealer undertook the sale of my jewels. we arranged them in a handsome box lined with velvet and divided into compartments, and i made a catalogue of them, copied from my ancient parchments--which would have ruined me had i inadvertently allowed them to be seen. he put himself into communication with the officers of the museum, and i left the matter entirely in his hands. "in less than a week i became aware that i was an object of suspicion. i called on the dealer, but he was not to be seen. i found that i was shadowed by officers of the law. i wrote to the dealer, but received no answer. one evening, when i returned to my lodgings, i found that they had been thoroughly searched. i became alarmed, and the conviction forced itself upon me that the sooner i should escape from madrid, the better for me." "what!" exclaimed mrs. crowder, "and leave thy jewels behind? thee certainly did not do that!" "ah, my dear," replied her husband, "you do not comprehend the situation. it was very plain that the authorities of the museum did not believe that a private individual, a stranger, was likely to be the legitimate owner of these treasures. had my case been an ordinary one i should have courted investigation; but how could i prove that i had been an honest man three hundred years before? a legal examination, not so much on account of the jewels, but because of the necessary assertion of my age, would have been a terrible ordeal. "i hurried to the dealer's shop, but found it closed. inquiring of a woman in a neighboring door-step, i was informed that the dealer had been arrested. i asked no more. i did not return to my lodgings, and that night i left madrid." i could not repress an exclamation of distress, and mrs. crowder cried: "did thee really go away and leave thy jewels? such a thing is too dreadful to think of. but perhaps thee got them again?" "no," said mr. crowder; "i never saw them again, nor ever heard of them. but now that it is impossible for any one to be living who might recognize me, i hope to go to madrid and see those gems. i have no doubt that they are in the museum." "and i," exclaimed mrs. crowder--"i shall go with thee; i shall see them." "indeed you shall," said her husband, taking her affectionately by the hand. and then he turned to me. "you may think," said he, "that i was too timid, that i was too ready to run away from danger; but it is hard for any one but myself readily to appreciate my horror of a sentence to imprisonment or convict labor for life." "oh, horrible!" said his wife, with tears in her eyes. "then thee would have despaired indeed." "no," said he; "i should not even have had that consolation. despair is a welcome to death. a man who cannot die cannot truly despair. but do not let us talk upon such a melancholy subject." "no, no," cried mrs. crowder; "i am glad thee left those wretched jewels behind thee. and thee got away safely?" "oh, yes; i had some money left. i traveled by night and concealed myself by day, and so got out of spain. soon after i crossed the pyrenees i found myself penniless, and was obliged to work my way." "poverty again!" exclaimed mrs. crowder. "it is dreadful to hear so much of it. if thee could only have carried away with thee one of thy diamonds, thee might have cracked it up into little pieces, and thee might have sold these, one at a time, without suspicion." "i never thought of being a vender of broken diamonds, and there is nothing suspicious about honest labor. the object of my present endeavors was to reach england, and i journeyed northward. it was nearly a month after i had entered france that i was at a little village on the garonne, repairing a stone wall which divided a field from the road, and i assure you i was very glad to get this job. "it was here that i heard of the near approach of napoleon's army on its march into spain; that the news was true was quickly proved, for very soon after i had begun my work on the wall the country to the north seemed to be filled with cavalry, infantry, artillery, baggage-wagons, and everything that pertained to an army. about noon there was a general halt, and in the field the wall of which i was repairing a body of officers made a temporary encampment. "i paid as little apparent attention as possible to what was going on around me, but proceeded steadily with my work, although i assure you i had my eyes wide open all the time. i was thinking of stopping work in order to eat my dinner, which i had with me, when a party of officers approached me on their way to a little hill in the field. one of them stopped and spoke to me, and as he did so the others halted and stood together a little way off. the moment i looked at the person who addressed me i knew him. it was napoleon bonaparte." "then thee has seen the great napoleon," almost whispered mrs. crowder. "and very much disappointed i was when i beheld him," remarked her husband. "i had seen portraits of him, i had read and heard of his great achievements, and i had pictured to myself a hero. perhaps my experience should have taught me that heroes seldom look like heroes, but for all that i had had my ideal, and in appearance this man fell below it. his face was of an olive color which was unequally distributed over his features; he was inclined to be pudgy, and his clothes did not appear to fit him; but for all that he had the air of a man who with piercing eyes saw his way before him and did not flinch from taking it, rough as it might be. 'you seem an old man for such work,' said he, 'but if you are strong enough to lift those stones why are you not in the army?' as he spoke i noticed that he had not the intonation of a true frenchman. he had the accent of the foreigner that he was. [illustration: "'why are you not in the army?'"] "'sire,' said i, 'i am too old for the army, but in spite of my age i must earn my bread.' i may state here that my hair and beard had been growing since i left madrid. for a moment the emperor regarded me in silence. 'are you a frenchman?' said he. 'you speak too well for a stone-mason, and, moreover, your speech is that of a foreigner who has studied french.' it was odd that each of us should have remarked the accent of the other, but i was not amused at this; i was becoming very nervous. 'sire,' said i, 'i come from italy.' 'were you born there?' asked he. my nervousness increased. this man was too keen a questioner. 'sire,' i replied, 'i was born in the country southeast of rome.' this was true enough, but it was a long way southeast. 'do you speak spanish?' he abruptly asked. "at this question my blood ran cold. i had had enough of speaking spanish. i was trying to get away from spain and everything that belonged to that country; but i thought it safest to speak the truth, and i answered that i understood the language. the emperor now beckoned to one of his officers, and ordered him to talk with me in spanish. i had been in spain in the early part of the preceding century, and i had there learned to speak the pure castilian tongue, so that when the officer talked with me i could see that he was surprised, and presently he told the emperor that he had never heard any one who spoke such excellent spanish. the emperor fixed his eyes upon me. 'you must have traveled a great deal,' he said. 'you should not be wasting your time with stones and mortar.' then, turning to the officer who had spoken to me, he said, 'he understands spanish so well that we may make him useful.' he was about to address me again, but was interrupted by the arrival of an orderly with a despatch. this he read hastily, and walked toward the officers who were waiting for him; but before he left me he ordered me to report myself at his tent, which was not far off in the field. he then walked away, evidently discussing the despatch, which he still held open in his hand. "now i was again plunged into the deepest apprehension and fear. i did not want to go back to spain, not knowing what might happen to me there. every evil thing was possible. i might be recognized, and the emperor might not care to shield any one claimed by the law as an escaped thief. in an instant i saw all sorts of dreadful possibilities. i determined to take no chances. the moment the emperor's back was turned upon me i got over the broken part of the wall and, interfered with by no one, passed quietly along the road to the house of the man who had employed me to do his mason-work, and seeing no one there,--for every window and door was tightly closed,--i walked into the yard and went to the well, which was concealed from the road by some shrubbery. i looked quickly about, and perceiving that i was not in sight of any one, i got into the well and went down to the bottom, assisting my descent by the well-rope. the water was about five feet deep, and when i first entered it, it chilled me; but nothing could chill me so much as the thought that i might be taken back into spain, no matter by whom or for what. i must admit that i was doing then, and often had done, that which seemed very much like cowardice; but people who can die cannot understand the fear which may come upon a person who has not that refuge from misfortune. "for the rest of the day i remained in the well, and when people came to draw water--and this happened many times in the course of the afternoon --i crouched down as much as i could; but at such times i would have been concealed by the descending bucket, even if any one had chosen to look down the well. this bucket was a heavy one with iron hoops, and i had a great deal of trouble sometimes to shield my head from it." "i should think thee would have taken thy death of cold," said mrs. crowder, "staying in that cold well the whole afternoon." "no," said her husband, with a smile; "i was not afraid of that. if i should have taken cold i knew it would not be fatal, and although the water chilled me at first, i became used to it. an hour or two after nightfall i clambered up the well-rope,--and it was not an easy thing, for although not stout, i am a heavy man,--and i got away over the fields with all the rapidity possible. i did not look back to see if the army were still on the road, nor did i ever know whether i had been searched for or had been forgotten. "i shall not describe the rest of my journey. there is nothing remarkable about it except that it was beset with many hardships. i made my way into switzerland and so on down the rhine, and it was nearly seven months after i left madrid before i reached england. "i remained many years in great britain, living here and there, and was greatly interested in the changes and improvements i saw around me. you can easily understand this when i tell you it was in , twenty years after the discovery of america, that i had last been in england. i do not believe that in any other part of the world the changes in three hundred years could have been more marked and impressive. "i had never visited ireland, and as i had a great desire to see that country, i made my way there as soon as possible, and after visiting the most noted spots of the island i settled down to work as a gardener." "always poor," ejaculated mrs. crowder, with a sigh. "no, not always," answered her husband. "but wandering sight-seers cannot be expected to make much money. at this time i was very glad indeed to cease from roving and enjoy the comforts of a home, even though it were a humble one. the family with whom i took service was that of maria edgeworth, who lived with her father in edgeworthstown." "what!" cried mrs. crowder, "'lazy lawrence,' 'simple susan,' and all the rest of them? was it that miss edgeworth?" "certainly," said he; "there never was but one maria edgeworth, and i don't think there ever will be another. i soon became very well acquainted with miss edgeworth. her father was a studious man and a magistrate. he paid very little attention to the house and garden, the latter of which was almost entirely under the charge of his daughter maria. she used to come out among the flower-beds and talk to me, and as my varied experience enabled me to tell her a great deal about fruits, flowers, and vegetables, she became more and more interested in what i had to tell her. she was a plain, sensible woman, anxious for information, and she lived in a very quiet neighborhood where she did not often have opportunities of meeting persons of intelligence and information. but when she found out that i could tell her so many things, not only about plants but about the countries where i had known them, she would sometimes spend an hour or two with me, taking notes of what i said. "during the time that i was her gardener she wrote the story of 'the little merchants,' and as she did not know very much about italy and naples, i gave her most of the points for that highly moral story. she told me, in fact, that she did not believe she could have written it had it not been for my assistance. she thought well to begin the story by giving some explanatory 'extracts from a traveler's journal' relative to italian customs, but afterward she depended entirely on me for all points concerning distinctive national characteristics and the general italian atmosphere. as she became aware that i was an educated man and had traveled in many countries, she was curious about my antecedents, but of course my remarks in that direction were very guarded. "one day, as she was standing looking at me as i was pruning a rose-bush, she made a remark which startled me. i perfectly remember her words. 'it seems to me,' she said, 'that one who is so constantly engaged in observing and encouraging the growth and development of plants should himself grow and develop. roses of one year are generally better than those of the year before. then why is not the gardener better?' to these words she immediately added, being a woman of kind impulses, 'but in the case of a good gardener, such as you are, i've no doubt he does grow better, year by year.'" "what was there startling in that little speech?" asked mrs. crowder. "i don't think she could have said anything less." "i will tell you why i was startled," said her husband. "almost those very words--mark me, almost those very words--had been said to me when i was working in the wonderful gardens of nebuchadnezzar, and he was standing by me watching me prune a rose-bush. that maria edgeworth and the great nebuchadnezzar should have said the same thing to me was enough to startle me." to this astounding statement mrs. crowder and i listened with wide-open eyes. "yes," said mr. crowder; "you may think it amazing that a very ordinary remark should connect 'the parents' assistant' with the city of babylon, but so it was. in the course of my life i have noticed coincidences quite as strange. "i spent many years in the city of babylon, but the wonderful hanging gardens interested me more than anything else the great city contained. at the time of which i have just spoken i was one of nebuchadnezzar's gardeners, but not in the humble position which i afterward filled in ireland. i had under my orders fifteen slaves, and my principal duty was to direct the labors of these poor men. these charming gardens, resting upon arches high above the surface of the ground, watered by means of pipes from the river euphrates, and filled with the choicest flowers, shrubs, and plants known to the civilization of the time, were a ceaseless source of delight to me. often, when i had finished the daily work assigned to me and my men, i would wander over other parts of the garden and enjoy its rare beauties. "i frequently met nebuchadnezzar, who for the time enjoyed his gardens almost as much as i did. when relieved from the cares of state and his ambitious plans, and while walking in the winding paths among sparkling fountains and the fragrant flowerbeds, he seemed like a very ordinary man, quiet and reflective, with very good ideas concerning nature and architecture. the latter i learned from his frequent remarks to me. i suppose it was because i appeared to be so much older and more experienced than most of those who composed his little army of gardeners that he often addressed me, asking questions and making suggestions; and it was one afternoon, standing by me as i was at work in a rose-bed, that he said the words which were spoken to me about twenty-four centuries afterward by maria edgeworth. now, wasn't that enough to startle a man?" [illustration: nebuchadnezzar and the gardener.] "startle!" exclaimed mrs. crowder, "i should have screamed. i should have thought that some one had come from the dead to speak to me. but i suppose there was nothing about maria edgeworth which reminded thee of nebuchadnezzar, king of babylon." "yes, there was," replied her husband: "there was the same meditative expression of the eyes; the same reflective mood as each one began to speak, as if he and she were merely thinking aloud; the same quick, kind reference to me, as if the speaker feared that my feelings might have been hurt by a presumption that i myself had not developed and improved. "i had good reason to remember those words of nebuchadnezzar, for they were the last i ever heard him speak. a few days afterward i was informed by the chief gardener that the king was about to make a journey across the mountains into media, and that he intended to establish there what would now be called an experimental garden of horticulture, which was to be devoted to growing and improving certain ornamental trees which did not flourish in the hanging gardens of babylon. his expedition was not to be undertaken entirely for this purpose, but he was a man who did a great many things at once, and the establishment of these experimental grounds was only one of the objects of his journey. "the chief gardener then went on to say that the king had spoken to him about me and had said that he would take me with him and perhaps put me in charge of the new gardens. "this mark of royal favor did not please me at all. i had hoped that i might ultimately become the chief of the babylonian gardens, and this would have suited me admirably. it was a position of profit and some honor, and when i thought that i had lived long enough in that part of the world it would have been easy for me to make a journey into the surrounding country on some errand connected with the business of the gardens, and then quietly to disappear? but if i were to be taken into media it might not be easy for me to get away. therefore i did not wait to see nebuchadnezzar again and receive embarrassing royal commands, but i went to my home that night, and returned no more to the wonderful hanging gardens of babylon." "i think thee was a great deal better off in the gardens of maria edgeworth," said mrs. crowder, "for there thee could come and go as thee pleased, and it almost makes my flesh creep when i think of thee living in company with the bloody tyrants of the past. and always in poverty and suffering, as if thee had been one of the common people, and not the superior of every man around thee! i don't want to hear anything more about the wicked nebuchadnezzar. how long did thee stay with maria edgeworth?" "about four years," he replied; "and i might have remained much longer, for in that quiet life the advance of one's years was not likely to be noticed. i am sure miss edgeworth looked no older to me when i left her than when i first saw her. but she was obliged to go into england to nurse her sick stepmother, and after her departure the place had no attractions for me, and i left ireland." "i wonder," said mrs. crowder, a little maliciously, "that thee did not marry her." her husband laughed. "englishwomen of her rank in society do not marry their gardeners, and, besides, in any case, she would not have suited me for a wife. for one reason, she was too homely." "oh," exclaimed mrs. crowder, and she might have said more, but her husband did not give her a chance. "i know i have talked a great deal about my days of poverty and misery, and now i will tell you something different. for a time i was the ruler of all the russias." "ruler!" exclaimed mrs. crowder and i, almost in the same breath. "yes," said he, "absolute ruler. and this was the way of it: "i was in russia in the latter part of the seventeenth century, at a time when there was great excitement in royal and political circles. the young czar feodor had recently died, and he had named as his successor his half-brother peter, a boy ten years of age, who afterward became peter the great. the late czar's young brother ivan should have succeeded him, but he was almost an idiot. in this complicated state of things, the half-sister of peter, the princess sophia, a young woman of wonderful ambition and really great abilities, rose to the occasion. she fomented a revolution; there was fighting, with all sorts of cruelties and horrors, and when affairs had quieted down she was princess regent, while the two boys, ivan and peter, were waiting to see what would happen next. "she was really a woman admirably adapted to her position. she was well educated, wrote poetry, and knew how to play her part in public affairs. she presided in the councils, and her authority was without control; but she was just as bloody-minded and cruel as anybody else in russia. "now, it so happened when the princess sophia was at the height of her power, that i was her secretary. for five or six years i had been a teacher of languages in moscow, and at one time i had given lessons to the princess. in this way she had become well acquainted with me, and having frequently called upon me for information of one sort or another, she concluded to make me her secretary. thus i was established at the court of russia. i had charge of all sophia's public papers, and i often had a good deal to do with her private correspondence, but she signed and sealed all papers of importance. "the prince galitzin, who had been her father's minister and was now sophia's main supporter in all her autocratic designs and actions, found himself obliged to leave moscow to attend to his private affairs on his great estates, and to be absent for more than a month; and after his departure the princess depended on me more than ever. like many women in high positions, it was absolutely necessary for her to have a man on whom she could lean with one hand while she directed her affairs with the other." "i do not think that is always necessary," said mrs. crowder, "at least, in these days." "perhaps not," said her husband, with a smile, "but it was then. but i must get on with my story. one morning soon after galitzin's departure, the horses attached to the royal sledge ran away just outside of moscow. the princess was thrown out upon the hard ground, and badly dislocated her right wrist. by the time she had been taken back to the palace her arm and hand were dreadfully swollen, and it was difficult for her surgeons to do anything for her. "i was called into the princess's room just after the three surgeons had been sent to prison. i found her in great trouble, mental as well as physical, and her principal anxiety was that she was afraid it would be a long time before she would be able to use her hand and sign and seal the royal acts and decrees. she had a certain superstition about this which greatly agitated her. if she could not sign and seal, she did not believe she would be able to rule. any one who understood the nature of the political factions in russia well knew that an uprising among the nobles might occur upon any pretext, and no pretext could be so powerful as the suspicion of incompetency in the sovereign. the seat of a ruler who did not rule was extremely uncertain. "at that moment a paper of no great importance, which had been sent in to her before she went out in her sledge that morning, was lying on the table near her couch, and she was greatly worried because she could not sign it. i assured her she need not trouble herself about it, for i could attend to it. i had often affixed her initials and seal to unimportant papers. "the princess did not object to my proposition, but this was not enough for her. she had a deep mind, and she quickly concocted a scheme by which her public business should be attended to, while at the same time it should not be known that she did not attend to it. she caused it to be given out that it was her ankle which had been injured, and not her wrist. she sent for another surgeon, and had him locked up in the palace when he was not attending to her, so that he should tell no tales. her ladies were informed that it would be very well for them to keep silent, and they understood her. then she arranged with me that all public business should be brought to her; that i should sign and seal in her place, and should be her agent of communication with the court. "when this plan had been settled upon, the princess regained something of her usual good spirits. 'as i never sign my name with my toes,' she said to me, 'there is no reason why a sprained ankle should interfere with my royal functions, and, for the present, you can be my right hand.' "this was a very fine plan, but it did not work as she expected it would. her wrist became more and more painful, and fever set in, and on the second day, when i called upon her, i found she was in no condition to attend to business. she was irritable and drowsy. 'don't annoy me with that paper,' she said. 'if the wool-dealers ought to have their taxes increased, increase them. you should not bring these trifles to me; but' --and now she regained for a moment her old acuteness--'remember this: don't let my administration stop.' "i understood her very well, and when i left her i saw my course plain before me. it was absolutely necessary that the exercise of royal functions by the princess sophia should appear to go on in its usual way; any stoppage would be a signal for a revolution. in order that this plan should be carried out, i must act for the princess regent; i must do what i thought right, and it must be done in her name, exactly as if she had ordered it. i assumed the responsibilities without hesitation. while it was supposed i was merely the private secretary of the princess, acting as her agent and mouthpiece, i was in fact the ruler of all the russias." mrs. crowder opened her mouth as if she would gasp for breath, but she did not say anything. "you can scarcely imagine, my dear," said he, "the delight with which i assumed the powers so suddenly thrust upon me. i set myself to work without delay, and, as i knew all about the wool-dealers' business, i issued a royal decree decreasing their taxes. poor creatures! they were suffering enough already." "good for thee!" exclaimed mrs. crowder. "i cannot tell you of all the reforms i devised, or even those which i carried out. i knew that the fever of the princess, aggravated by the inflammation of her dislocated wrist, would continue for some time, and i bent all my energies to the work of doing as much good as i could in the vast empire under my control while i had the opportunity. and it was a great opportunity, indeed! i did not want to do anything so radical as to arouse the opposition of the court, and therefore i directed my principal efforts to the amelioration of the condition of the people in the provinces. it would be a long time before word could get back to the capital of what i had done in those distant regions. by night and by day my couriers were galloping in every direction, carrying good news to the peasants of russia. it was remarked by some of the councilors, when they spoke of the municipal reforms i instituted, that the princess seemed to be in a very humane state of mind; but none of them cared to interfere with what they supposed to be the sick-bed workings of her conscience. so i ruled with a high hand, astonishing the provincial officials, and causing thousands of downtrodden subjects to begin to believe that perhaps they were really human beings, with some claim on royal justice and kindness. "i fairly reveled in my imperial power, but i never forgot to be prudent. i lessened the duties and slightly increased the pay of the military regiments stationed in and about moscow, and thus the princess sophia became very popular with the army, and i felt safe. i went in to see the princess every day, and several times when she was in her right mind she asked me if everything was going on well, and once when i assured her that all was progressing quietly and satisfactorily, she actually thanked me. this was a good deal for a russian princess. if she had known how the people were thanking _her_, i do not know what would have happened. "for twenty-one days i reigned over russia. if i had been able to do it, i should have made each day a year; i felt that i was in my proper place." "and thee was right," said mrs. crowder, her eyes sparkling. "i believe that at that time thee was the only monarch in the world who was worthy to reign." and with a loyal pride, as if he had just stepped from a throne, she put her hand upon his arm. "yes," said mr. crowder, "i honestly believe that i was a good monarch, and i will admit that in those days such personages were extremely scarce. so my imperial sway proceeded with no obstruction until i was informed that prince galitzin was hastening to moscow, on his return from his estates, and was then within three days' journey of the capital. now i prepared to lay down the tremendous power which i had wielded with such immense satisfaction to myself, and with such benefit, i do not hesitate to say, to the people of russia. the effects of my rule are still to be perceived in some of the provinces of russia, and decrees i made more than two hundred years ago are in force in many villages along the eastern side of the volga. "the day before prince galitzin was expected, i visited sophia for the last time. she was a great deal better, and much pleased by the expected arrival of her minister. she even gave me some commands, but when i left her i did not execute them. i would not have my reign sullied by any of her mandates. that afternoon, in a royal sledge, with the royal permission, given by myself, to travel where and how i pleased, i left moscow. frequent relays of horses carried me rapidly beyond danger of pursuit, and so, in course of time, i passed the boundaries of the empire of russia, over which for three weeks i had ruled, an absolute autocrat." "does thee know," said mrs. crowder, "that two or three times i expected thee to say that thee married sophia?" mr. crowder laughed. "that is truly a wild notion," said he. "i don't think it is wild at all," she replied. "in the course of thy life thee has married a great many plain persons. in some ways that princess would have suited thee as a wife, and if thee had really married her and had become her royal consort, like prince albert, thee might have made a great change in her. but, after all, it would have been a pity to interfere with the reign of peter the great." vi "and what did thee do after thee got out of russia?" asked mrs. crowder, the next evening. her husband shook his head. "no, no, my dear; we can't go on with my autobiography in that fashion. if i should take up my life step by step, there would not be time enough--" there he stopped, but i am sure we both understood his meaning. there would be plenty of time for him! "often and often," said mr. crowder, after a few minutes' silence, "have i determined to adopt some particular profession, and continue its practice wherever i might find myself; but in this i did not succeed very well. frequently i was a teacher, but not for many consecutive years. something or other was sure to happen to turn my energies into other channels." "such as falling in love with thy scholars," said his wife. "you have a good memory," he replied. "that sometimes happened; but there were other reasons which turned me away from the paths of the pedagogue. with my widely extended opportunities, i naturally came to know a good deal of medicine and surgery. frequently i had been a doctor in spite of myself, and as far back as the days of the patriarchs i was called upon to render aid to sick and ailing people. "in the days when i lived in a cave and gained a reputation as a wise and holy hermit, more people came to me to get relief from bodily ailments than to ask for spiritual counsel. you will remember that i told you that i was visited at that time by moses and joshua. moses came, i truly believe, on account of his desire to become acquainted with the prophet el khoudr, of whom he had heard so much; but joshua wanted to see me for an entirely different reason. the two remained with me for about an hour, and although moses had no belief in me as a prophet, he asked me a great many questions, and i am sure that i proved to him that i was a man of a great deal of information. he had a keen mind, with a quick perception of the motives of others, and in every way was well adapted to be a leader of men. "when moses had gone away to a tent about a mile distant, where he intended to spend the night, joshua remained, and as soon as his uncle was out of sight, he told me why he wished to see me." "his uncle!" exclaimed mrs. crowder. "certainly," said her husband; "joshua was the son of nun and of miriam, and miriam was the sister of moses and aaron. what he now wanted from me was medical advice. for some time he had been afflicted with rheumatism in his left leg, which came upon him after exposure to the damp and cold. "now, this was a very important thing to joshua. he was a great favorite with moses, who intended him, as we all know, to be his successor as leader of the people and of the army. joshua was essentially a soldier; he was quiet, brave, and a good disciplinarian; in fact, he had all the qualities needed for the position he expected to fill: but he was not young, and if he should become subject to frequent attacks of rheumatism, it is not likely that moses, who had very rigid ideas of his duties to his people, would be willing to place at their head a man who might at any time be incapacitated from taking his proper place on the field of battle. so joshua had never mentioned his ailment to his uncle, hoping that he might be relieved of it, and having heard that i was skilled in such matters, now wished my advice. "i soon found that his ailment was a very ordinary one, which might easily be kept under control, if not cured, and i proceeded at once to apply remedies. i will just mention that in those days remedies were generally heroic, and i think you will agree with me when i tell you how i treated joshua. i first rubbed his aching muscles with fine sand, keeping up a friction until his skin was in a beautiful glow. then i brought out from the back part of my cave, where i kept my medicines, a jar containing a liniment which i had made for such purposes. it was composed of oil, in which had been steeped the bruised fruit or pods of a plant very much resembling the tabasco pepper-plant." "whoop!" i exclaimed involuntarily. "yes," said mr. crowder, "and joshua 'whooped' too. but it was a grand liniment, especially when applied upon skin already excited by rubbing with sand. he jumped at first, but he was a soldier, and he bore the application bravely. "i saw him again the next day, and he assured me with genuine pleasure that every trace of the rheumatism had disappeared. i gave him some of my liniment, and also showed him some of the little pepper pods, so that he might procure them at any time in the future when he should need them. "it was more than twenty years after this that i again met joshua. he was then an elderly man, but still a vigorous soldier. he assured me that he had used my remedy whenever he had felt the least twinges of rheumatism, and that the disease had never interfered with the performance of his military duties. "he was much surprised to see that i looked no older than when he had met me before. he was greatly impressed by this, and talked a good deal about it. he told me he considered himself under the greatest obligations to me for what i had done for him, and as he spoke i could see that a hope was growing within him that perhaps i might do something more. he presently spoke out boldly, and said to me that as my knowledge of medicine had enabled me to keep myself from growing old, perhaps i could do the same thing for him. few men had greater need of protecting themselves against the advance of old age. his work was not done, and years of bodily strength were necessary to enable him to finish it. "but i could do nothing for joshua in this respect. i assured him that my apparent exemption from the effects of passing years was perfectly natural, and was not due to drugs or medicaments. "joshua lived many years after that day, and did a good deal of excellent military work; but his life was not long enough to satisfy him. he fell sick, was obliged to give up his command to his relative caleb, and finally died, in his one hundred and twenty-eighth year." "which ought to satisfy him, i should say," said mrs. crowder. "i have never yet met a thoroughbred worker," said mr. crowder, "who was satisfied to stop his work before he had finished it, no matter how old he might happen to be. but my last meeting with joshua taught me a lesson which in those days had not been sufficiently impressed upon my mind. i became convinced that i must not allow people to think that i could live along for twenty years or more without growing older, and after that i gave this matter a great deal more attention than i had yet bestowed upon it." "it is a pity," said mrs. crowder, "that thy life should have been marred by such constant anxiety." "yes," said he; "but this is a suspicious world, and it is dangerous for a man to set himself apart from his fellow-beings, especially if he does it in some unusual fashion which people cannot understand." "but i hope now," said his wife, "that those days of suspicion are entirely past." now the conversation was getting awkward; it could not be pleasant for any one of us to talk about what the world of the future might think of mr. crowder when it came to know all about him, and, appreciating this, my host quickly changed the subject. "there is a little story i have been wanting to tell you," said he, addressing his wife, "which i think would interest you. it is a love-story in which i was concerned." "oh!" said mrs. crowder, looking up quickly, "a scholar?" "no," he answered; "not this time. early in the fourteenth century i was living at avignon, in the south of france. at that time i was making my living by copying law papers. you see, i was down in the world again." mrs. crowder sighed, but said nothing. "one sunday morning i was in the church of st. claire, and, kneeling a little in front of me, i noticed a lady who did not seem to be paying the proper attention to her devotions. she fidgeted uneasily, and every now and then she would turn her head a little to the right, and then bring it back quickly and turn it so much in my direction that i could see the profile of her face. she was a good-looking woman, not very young, and evidently nervous and disturbed. "following the direction of her quick gaze when she again turned to the right, i saw a young man, apparently not twenty-five years of age, and dressed in sober black. he was also kneeling, but his eyes were steadfastly fixed upon the lady in front of me, and i knew, of course, that it was this continuous gaze which was disturbing her. i felt very much disposed to call the attention of a priest to this young man who was making one of the congregation unpleasantly conspicuous by staring at her; but the situation was brought to an end by the lady herself, who suddenly rose and went out of the church. she had no sooner passed the heavy leathern curtain of the door than the young man got up and went out after her. interested in this affair, i also left the church, and in the street i saw the lady walking rapidly away, with the young man at a respectful distance behind her. [illustration: petrarch and laura.] "i followed on the other side of the street, determined to interfere if the youth, so evidently a stranger to the lady, should accost her or annoy her. she walked steadily on, not looking behind her, and doubtless hoping that she was not followed. as soon as she reached another church she turned and entered it. without hesitation the young man went in after her, and then i followed. "as before, the lady knelt on the pavement of the church, and the young man, placing himself not very far from her, immediately began to stare at her. i looked around, but there was no priest near, and then i advanced and knelt not very far from the lady, and between her and her persistent admirer. it was plain enough that he did not like this, and he moved forward so that he might still get a view of her. then i also moved so as to obstruct his view. he now fixed his eyes upon me, and i returned his gaze in such a way as to make him understand that while i was present he would not be allowed to annoy a lady who evidently wished to have nothing to do with him. presently he rose and went out. it was evident that he saw that it was no use for him to continue his reprehensible conduct while i was present. "i do not know how the lady discovered that her unauthorized admirer had gone away, but she did discover it, and she turned toward me for an instant and gave me what i supposed was a look of gratitude. "i soon left the church, and i had scarcely reached the street when i found that the lady had followed me. she looked at me as if she would like to speak, and i politely saluted her. 'i thank you, kind sir,' she said, 'for relieving me of the importunities of that young man. for more than a week he has followed me whenever i go to church, and although he has never spoken to me, his steady gaze throws me into such an agitation that i cannot think of my prayers. do you know who he is, sir?' "i assured her that i had never seen the youth before that morning, but that doubtless i could find out all about him. i told her that i was acquainted with several officers of the law, and that there would be no difficulty in preventing him from giving her any further annoyance. 'oh, don't do that!' she said quickly. 'i would not wish to attract attention to myself in that way. you seem to be a kind and fatherly gentleman. can you not speak to the young man himself and tell him who i am, and impress upon his mind how much he is troubling me by his inconsiderate action?' "as i did not wish to keep her standing in the street, we now walked on together, and she briefly gave me the facts of the case. "her name was mme. de sade: she had been happily married for two years, and never before had she been annoyed by impertinent attentions from any one; but in some manner unaccountable to her this young student had been attracted by her, and had made her the object of his attention whenever he had had the opportunity. not only had he annoyed her at church, but twice he had followed her when she had left her house on business, thus showing that he had been loitering about in the vicinity. she had not yet spoken to her husband in the matter, because she was afraid that some quarrel might arise. but now that the good angels had caused her to meet with such a kind-hearted old gentleman as myself, she hoped that i might be able to rid her of the young man without making any trouble. surely this student, who seemed to be a respectable person, would not think of such a thing as fighting me." "thee must have had a very long white beard at that time," interpolated mrs. crowder. "yes," said her husband; "i was in one of my periods of venerable age. "i left mme. de sade, promising to do what i could for her, and as she thanked me i could not help wondering why the handsome young student had made her the object of his attention. she was a well-shaped, fairly good-looking woman, with fair skin and large eyes; but she was of a grave and sober cast of countenance, and there was nothing about her which indicated the least of that piquancy which would be likely to attract the eyes of a youth. she seemed to me to be exactly what she said she was--the quiet and respectable lady of a quiet and respectable household. "in the course of the afternoon i discovered the name and residence of the young man, with whom i had determined to have an interview. his name was francesco petrarca, an italian by birth, and now engaged in pursuing his studies in this place. i called upon him at his lodgings, and, fortunately, found him at home. as i had expected, he recognized me at once as the elderly person who had interfered with him at the church; but, as i did not expect, he greeted me politely, without the least show of resentment. "i took the seat he offered me, and proceeded to deliver a lecture. i laid before him the facts of the case, which i supposed he might not know, and urged him, for his own sake, as well as for that of the lady, to cease his annoying and, i did not hesitate to state, ungentlemanly pursuit of her. "he listened to me with respectful attention, and when i had finished he assured me that he knew even more about mme. de sade than i did. he was perfectly aware that she was a religious and highly estimable lady, and he did not desire to do anything which would give her a moment's sorrow. 'then stop following her,' said i, 'and give up that habit of staring at her in such a way as to make her the object of attention to everybody around her.' 'that is asking too much,' answered master petrarca. 'that lady has made an impression upon my soul which cannot be removed. my will would have no power to efface her image from my constant thought. if she does not wish me to do so, i shall never speak a word to her; but i must look upon her. even when i sleep her face is present in my dreams. she has aroused within me the spirit of poetry; my soul will sing in praise of her loveliness, and i cannot prevent it. let me read to you some lines,' he said, picking up a piece of manuscript which was lying on the table. 'it is in italian, but i will translate it for you.' 'no,' said i; 'read it as it is written; i understand italian.' then he read the opening lines of a sonnet which was written to laura in the shadow. he read about six lines and then stopped. "'it is not finished,' he said, 'and what i have written does not altogether satisfy me; but you can judge from what you have heard how it is that i think of that lady, and how impossible it is that i can in any way banish her from my mind, or willingly from my vision.' "'how did you come to know that her name is laura?' i asked. 'i found it out from the records of her marriage,' he answered. "i talked for some time to this young man, but failed to impress him with the conviction that his conduct was improper and unworthy of him. i found means to inform mme. de sade of the result of my conversation with petrarch,--as we call his name in english,--and she appeared to be satisfied that the young student would soon cease his attentions, although i myself saw no reason for such belief. "i visited the love-lorn young man several times, for i had become interested in him, and endeavored to make him see how foolish it was--even if he looked upon it in no other light--to direct his ardent affections upon a lady who would never care anything about him, and who, even if unmarried, was not the sort of woman who was adapted to satisfy the lofty affection which his words and his verses showed him to possess. "'there are so many beautiful women,' said i, 'any one of whom you might love, of whom you might sing, and to whom you could indite your verses. she would return your love; she would appreciate your poetry; you would marry her and be happy all your life.' "he shook his head. 'no, no, no,' he said. 'you don't understand my nature. "'marriage would mean the cares of a house--food, fuel, the mending of clothes, a family--all the hard material conditions of life. no, sir! my love soars far above all that. if it were possible that laura should ever be mine i could not love her as i do. she is apart from me; she is above me. i worship her, and for her i pour out my soul in song. listen to this,' and he read me some lines of an unfinished sonnet to laura in the sunlight. 'she was just coming from a shaded street into an open place i saw her, and this poem came into my heart.' "about a week after this i was very much surprised to see petrarch walking with his laura, who was accompanied by her husband. the three were very amicably conversing. i joined the party, and was made acquainted with m. de sade, and after that, from time to time, i met them together, sometimes taking a meal with them in the evening. "i discovered that laura's husband looked upon petrarch very much as any ordinary husband would look upon an artist who wished to paint portraits of his wife. "i lived for more than a year in avignon with these good people, and i am not ashamed to say that i never ceased my endeavors to persuade petrarch to give up his strange and abnormal attentions to a woman who would never be anything to him but a vision in the distance, and who would prevent him from living a true and natural life with one who would be all his own. but it was of no use; he went on in his own way, and everybody knows the results. "now, just think of it," continued mr. crowder. "suppose i had succeeded in my honest efforts to do good; think of what the world would have lost. suppose i had induced petrarch not to come back to avignon after his travels; suppose he had not settled down at vaucluse, and had not spent three long years writing sonnets to laura while she was occupied with the care of her large family of children; suppose, in a word, that i had been successful in my good work, and that petrarch had shut his eyes and his heart to laura; suppose--" "i don't choose to suppose anything of the kind," said mrs. crowder. "thee tried to do right, but i am glad thee did not deprive the world of any of petrarch's poetry. but now i want thee to tell us something about ancient egypt, and those wonderfully cultivated people who built pyramids and carved hieroglyphics. perhaps thee saw them building the temple of the sun at heliopolis." mr. crowder shook his head. "that was before my time," said he. this was like an electric shock to both of us. if we had been more conversant with ancient chronology we might have understood, but we were not so conversant. "abraham! isaac! moses!" ejaculated mrs. crowder. "thee knew them all, and yet egypt was civilized before thy time! does thee mean that?" "oh, yes," said mr. crowder. "i am of the time of abraham, and when he was born the glories of egypt were at their height." "it is difficult to get these things straight in one's mind," said mrs. crowder. "as thee has lived so long, it seems a pity that thee was not born sooner." "i have often thought that," said her husband; "but we should all try to be content with what we have. and now let us skip out of those regions of the dusky past. i feel in the humor of telling a love-story, and one has just come into my mind." "thee is so fond of that sort of thing," said his wife, with a smile, "that we will not interfere with thee." "in the summer of the year ," said mr. crowder, "i was traveling, and had just come over from france into the province of piedmont, in northern italy. i was then in fairly easy circumstances, and was engaged in making some botanical researches for a little book which i had planned to write on a medical subject. i will explain to you later how i came to do a great deal of that sort of thing. "late upon a warm afternoon i was entering the town of ivrea, and passing a large stone building, i stopped to examine some leaves on a bush which grew by the roadside. while i was doing this, and comparing the shape and size of the leaves with some drawings i had in a book which i took from my pocket, i heard a voice behind me and apparently above me. some one was speaking to me, and speaking in latin. i looked around and up, but could see no one; but above me, about ten or twelve feet from the ground, there was a long, narrow slit of a window such as is seen in prisons. again i heard the voice, and it said to me distinctly in latin, 'are you free to go where you choose?' it was the voice of a woman. "as i wished to understand the situation better before i answered, i went over to the other side of the road, where i could get a better view of the window. there i saw behind this narrow opening a part of the face of a woman. this stone edifice was evidently a prison. i approached the window, and standing under it, first looking from side to side to see that no one was coming along the road, i said in latin, 'i am free to go where i choose.' "then the voice above said, 'wait!' but it spoke in italian this time. you may be sure i waited, and in a few minutes a little package dropped from the window and fell almost at my feet. i stooped and picked it up. it was a piece of paper, in which was wrapped a bit of mortar to give it weight. "i opened the paper and read, written in a clear and scholarly hand, these words: 'i am a most unfortunate prisoner. i believe you are an honest and true man, because i saw you studying plants and reading from a book which you carry. if you wish to do more good than you ever did before, come to this prison again after dark.' "i looked up and said quickly, in italian, 'i shall be here.' i was about to speak again and ask for some more definite directions, but i heard the sound of voices around a turn in the road, and i thought it better to continue my walk into the town. "that night, as soon as it was really dark, i was again at the prison. i easily found the window, for i had noted that it was so many paces from a corner of the building; but there was no light in the narrow slit, and although i waited some time, i heard no voice. i did not dare to call, for the prisoner might not be alone, and i might do great mischief. "my eyes were accustomed to the darkness, and it was starlight. i walked along the side of the building, examining it carefully, and i soon found a little door in the wall. as i stood for a few moments before this door, it suddenly opened, and in front of me stood a big soldier. he wore a wide hat and a little sword, and evidently was not surprised to see me. i thought it well, however, to speak, and i said: 'could you give a mouthful of supper to a--' "he did not allow me to finish my sentence, but putting his hand upon my shoulder, said gruffly: 'come in. don't you waste your breath talking about supper.' i entered, and the door was closed behind me. i followed this man through a stone passageway, and he took me to a little stone room. ''wait here!' he said, and he shut me in. i was in pitch-darkness, and had no idea what was going to happen next. after a little time i saw a streak of light coming through a keyhole; then an inner door opened, and a young woman with a lamp came into the room." "now does the love-story begin?" asked his wife. "not yet," said mr. crowder. "the young woman looked at me, and i looked at her. she was a pretty girl with black eyes. i did not express my opinion of her, but she was not so reticent. 'you look like a good old man,' she said. 'i think you may be trusted. come!' her speech was provincial, and she was plainly a servant. i followed her. 'now for the mistress,' said i to myself." "thee may have looked like an old man," remarked mrs. crowder, "but thee did not think like one." her husband laughed. "i mounted some stone steps, and was soon shown into a room where stood a lady waiting for me. as the light of the lamp carried by the maid fell upon her face, i thought i had never seen a more beautiful woman. her dress, her carriage, and her speech showed her to be a lady of rank. she was very young, scarcely twenty, i thought. "this lady immediately began to ask me questions. she had perceived that i was a stranger, and she wanted to know where i came from, what was my business, and as much as i could tell her of myself. 'i knew you were a scholar,' she said, 'because of your book, and i believe in scholars.' then briefly she told me her story and what she wanted of me. "she was the young queen adelheid, the widow of king lothar, who had recently died, and she was then suffering a series of harsh persecutions from the present king, berengar ii, who in this way was endeavoring to force her to marry his son adalbert. she hated this young man, and positively refused to have anything to do with him. "this charming and royal young widow was bright, intelligent, and had a mind of her own; it was easy to see that. she had formed a scheme for her deliverance, and she had been waiting to find some one to help her carry it out. now, she thought i was the man she had been looking for. i was elderly, apparently respectable, and she had to trust somebody. "this was her scheme. she was well aware that unless some powerful friend interfered in her behalf she would be obliged to marry adalbert, or remain in prison for the rest of her life, which would probably be unduly shortened. therefore she had made up her mind to appeal to the court of the emperor otto i of germany, and she wanted me to carry a letter to him. "i stood silent, earnestly considering this proposition, and as i did so she gazed at me as if her whole happiness in this world depended upon my decision. i was not long in making up my mind on the subject. i told her that i was willing to help her, and would undertake to carry a letter to the emperor, and i did not doubt, from what i had heard of this noble prince, that he would come to her deliverance. but i furthermore assured her that the moment it became known that the emperor was about to interfere in her behalf, she would be in a position of great danger, and would probably disappear from human sight before relief could reach her. in that prison she was utterly helpless, and to appeal for help would be to bring down vengeance upon herself. the first thing to do, therefore, was to escape from this prison, and get to some place where, for a time at least, she could defend herself against berengar, while waiting for otto to take her under his protection. "she saw the force of my remarks, and we discussed the matter for half an hour, and when i left--being warned by the soldier on guard, who was in love with the queen's black-eyed maid, that it was time for me to depart--it was arranged that i should return the next night and confer with the fair adelheid. "there were several conferences, and the unfaithful sentinel grumbled a good deal. i cannot speak of all the plans and projects which we discussed, but at last one of them was carried out. one dark, rainy night adelheid changed clothes with her maid, actually deceived the guard--not the fellow who had admitted me--with a story that she had been sent in great haste to get some medicine for her royal mistress, and joined me outside the prison. "there we mounted horses i had in readiness, and rode away from ivrea. we were bound for the castle of canossa, a strong-hold of considerable importance, where my royal companion believed she could find refuge, at least for a time. i cannot tell you of all the adventures we had upon that difficult journey. we were pursued; we were almost captured; we met with obstacles of various kinds, which sometimes seemed insurmountable; but at last we saw the walls of canossa rising before us, and we were safe. "adelheid was very grateful for what i had done, and as she had now learned to place full reliance upon me, she insisted that i should be the bearer of a letter from her to the emperor otto. i should not travel alone, but be accompanied by a sufficient retinue of soldiers and attendants, and should go as her ambassador. "the journey was a long and a slow one, but i was rather glad of it, for it gave me an opportunity to ponder over the most ambitious scheme i have ever formed in the whole course of my life." "greater than to be autocrat of all the russias?" exclaimed mrs. crowder. "yes," he replied. "that opportunity came to me suddenly, and i accepted it; i did not plan it out and work for it. besides, it could be only a transitory thing. but what now occupied me was a grand idea, the good effects of which, if it should be carried out, might endure for centuries. it was simply this: "i had become greatly attached to the young queen widow whose cause i had espoused. i had spent more than a month with her in the castle at canossa, and there i learned to know her well and to love her. she was, indeed, a most admirable woman and charming in every way. she appeared to place the most implicit trust in me; told me of all her affairs, and asked my opinion about almost everything she proposed to do. in a word, i was in love with her and wanted to marry her." "thee certainly had lofty notions; but don't think i object," said mrs. crowder. "it is chinese and tartars i don't like." "it might seem at first sight," he continued, "that i was aiming above me, but the more i reflected the more firmly i believed that it would be very good for the lady, as well as for me. in the first place, she had no reason to expect a matrimonial union worthy of her. adalbert she had every reason to despise, and there was no one else belonging to the riotous aristocratic factions of italy who could make her happy or give her a suitable position. in all her native land there was not a prince to whom she would not have to stoop in order to marry him. "but to me she need not stoop. no man on earth possessed a more noble lineage. i was of the house of shem, a royal priest after the order of melchizedek, and king of salem! no line of imperial ancestry could claim precedence of that." mrs. crowder looked with almost reverent awe into the face of her husband. "and that is the blood," she said, "which flows in the veins of our child?" "yes," said he; "that is the blood." after a slight pause mr. crowder continued: "i will now go on with my tale of ambition. a grand career would open before me. i would lay all my plans and hopes before the emperor otto, who would naturally be inclined to assist the unfortunate widow; but he would be still more willing to do so when i told him of the future which might await her if my plans should be carried out. as he was then engaged in working with a noble ambition for the benefit of his own dominions, he would doubtless be willing to do something for the good of lands beyond his boundaries. it ought not to be difficult to convince him that there could be no wiser, no nobler way of championing the cause of adelheid than by enabling me to perform the work i had planned. "all that would be necessary for him to do would be to furnish me with a moderate military force. with this i would march to canossa; there i would espouse adelheid; then i would proceed to ivrea, would dethrone the wicked berengar, would proclaim adelheid queen in his place, with myself as king consort; then, with the assistance and backing of the imperial german, i would no doubt soon be able to maintain my royal pretensions. once self-supporting, and relying upon our italian subjects for our army and finances, i would boldly re-establish the great kingdom of lombardy, to which charlemagne had put an end nearly two hundred years before. then would begin a grand system of reforms and national progress. "pavia should be my capital, but the beneficent influence of my rule should move southward. i would make an alliance with the pope; i would crush and destroy the factions which were shaking the foundations of church and state; i would still further extend my power--i would become the imperial ruler of italy, with adelheid as my queen! "over and over again i worked out and arranged this grand scheme, and when i reached the court of the emperor otto it was all as plain in my mind as if it had been copied on parchment. "i was very well received by the emperor, and he read with great interest and concern the letter i had brought him. he gave me several private audiences, and asked me many questions about the fair young widow who had met with so many persecutions and misfortunes. this interest greatly pleased me, but i did not immediately submit to him my plan for the relief of adelheid and the great good of the italian nation. i would wait a little; i must make him better acquainted with myself. but the imperial otto did not wait. on the third day after my arrival i was called into his cabinet and informed that he intended to set out himself at the head of an army; that he should relieve the unfortunate lady from her persecutions and establish her in her rights, whatever they might prove to be. his enthusiastic manner in speaking of his intentions assured me that i need not trouble myself to say one word about my plans. "now,--would you believe it?--that intermeddling monarch took out of my hands the whole grand, ambitious scheme i had so carefully devised. he went to canossa; he married adelheid; he marched upon berengar; he subjugated him and made him his vassal; he formed an alliance with pope john xii; he was proclaimed king of the lombards; he was crowned with his queen in st. peter's; he eventually acquired the southern portion of italy. all this was exactly what i had intended to do." mrs. crowder laughed. "in one way thee was served quite right, for thee made all thy plans without ever asking the beautiful young ex-queen whether she would have thee or not." in the tones of this fair lady's voice there were evident indications of mental relief. "and what did thee do then?" she asked. "i hope thee got some reward for all thy faithful exertions." "i received nothing at the time," mr. crowder replied; "and as i did not care to accompany the emperor into italy, for probably i would be recognized as the man who had assisted adelheid to escape from the prison at ivrea, and as i was not at all sure that the emperor would remember that i needed protection, i thought it well to protect myself, and so i journeyed back into france as well as i could. "this was not very well; for in purchasing the necessary fine clothes which i deemed it proper to wear in the presence of the royal lady whose interests i had in charge, in buying horses, and in many incidental expenses, i had spent my money. i was too proud to ask otto to reimburse me, for that would have been nothing but charity on his part; and of course i could not expect the fair adelheid to think of my possible financial needs. so, away i went, a poor wanderer on foot, and the imperial otto rode forward to love, honor, and success." "a dreadful shame!" exclaimed mrs. crowder. "it seems as if thee always carried a horn about with thee so that thee might creep out of the little end of it." "but my adventures with adelheid did not end here," he said. "about fifty years after this she was queen regent in italy, during the infancy of her grandchild otto iii. being in rome, and very poor, i determined to go to her, not to seek for charity, but to recall myself to her notice, and to boldly ask to be reimbursed for my expenses when assisting her to escape from ivrea, and in afterward going as her ambassador to otto i. in other words, i wanted to present my bill for enabling her to take her seat upon the throne of the 'holy roman empire of the german nation.' "as a proof that i was the man i assumed to be, i took with me a ring of no great value, but set with her royal seal, which she had given me when she sent me to otto. "well, i will not spend much time on this part of the story. by means of the ring i was accorded an interview with the regent. she was then an old woman over seventy years of age. when i introduced myself to her and told her my errand, she became very angry. 'i remember very well,' she said, 'the person you speak of, and he is long since dead. he was an old man when i took him into my service. you may be his son or some one else who has heard how he was employed by me. at any rate, you are an impostor. how did you come into possession of this ring? the man to whom i gave it had no right to keep it. he should have returned it to me when he had performed his duties.' "i tried to convince her that there was no reason to suppose that the man who had assisted her could not be living at this day. he need only be about one hundred years old, and that age was not uncommon. i affirmed most earnestly that the ring had never been out of my possession, and that i should not have come to her if i had not believed that she would remember my services, and be at least willing to make good the considerable sums i had expended in her behalf. "now she arose in royal wrath. 'how dare you speak to me in that way!' she said. 'you are a younger man at this moment than that old stranger you represent yourself to be.' then she called her guards and had me sent to prison as a cheat and an impostor. i remained in prison for some time, but as no definite charge was made against me, i was not brought to trial, and after a time was released to make room for somebody else. i got away as soon as i could, and thus ended my most ambitious dream." vii "now, my dear," said mr. crowder, regarding his wife with a tender kindness which i had frequently noticed in him, "just for a change, i know you would like to hear of a career of prosperity, wouldn't you?" "indeed, i would!" said mrs. crowder. "you will have noticed," said her husband, "that there has been a great deal of variety in my vocations; in fact, i have not mentioned a quarter of the different trades and callings in which i have been engaged. it was sometimes desirable and often absolutely necessary for me to change my method of making a living, but during one epoch of my life i steadily devoted myself to a single profession. for nearly four hundred years i was engaged almost continuously in the practice of medicine. i found it easier for me, as a doctor, to change my place of residence and to appear in a new country with as much property as i could carry about with me, than if i had done so in any other way. a prosperous and elderly man coming as a stranger from a far country would, under ordinary circumstances, be regarded with suspicion unless he were able to give some account of his previous career. but a doctor from a far country was always welcome; if he could cure people of their ailments they did not ask anything about the former circumstances of his life. it was perfectly natural for a learned man to travel." "did thee regularly study and go to college?" asked mrs. crowder, "or was thee a quack?" "oh, i studied," said her husband, smiling, "and under the best masters. i had always a fancy for that sort of thing, and in the days of the patriarchs, when there were no regular doctors, i was often called upon, as i told you." "oh, yes," said his wife; "thee rubbed joshua with gravel and pepper." "and cured him," said he, "you ought not to have omitted that. but it was not until about the fifth century before christ that i thought of really studying medicine. i was in the island of cos, where i had gone for a very queer reason. the great painter apelles lived there, and i went for the purpose of studying art under him. i was tired of most of the things i had been doing, and i thought it would be a good idea to become a painter. apelles gave me no encouragement when i applied to him; he told me i was entirely too old to become a pupil. 'by the time you would really know how to paint,' said he, 'supposing you have any talent for it, you ought to be beginning to arrange your affairs to get ready to die.' of course this admonition had no effect upon me, and i kept on with my drawing lessons. if i could not become a painter of eminence, i thought that at least i might be able, if i understood drawing, to become a better schoolmaster--if i should take up that profession again. "one day apelles said to me, after glancing at the drawing on which i was engaged: 'if you were ten years younger you might do something in the field of art, for you would make an excellent model for the picture i am about to begin. but at your present age you would not be able to sustain the fatigue of remaining in a constrained position for any length of time.' 'what is the subject?' i asked. 'a centurion in battle,' said he. "the next day i appeared before apelles with my hair cropped short and my face without a vestige of a beard. 'do i look young enough now to be your model?' said i. the painter looked at me in surprise. 'yes,' said he, 'you look young enough; but of course you are the same age as you were yesterday. however, if you would like to try the model business, i will make some sketches of you.' "for more than a month, nearly every day, i stood as a model to apelles for his great picture of a centurion whose sword had been stricken from his hand, and who, in desperation, was preparing to defend himself against his enemy with the arms which nature had given him." "is that picture extant?" i asked. mr. crowder smiled. "none of apelles's paintings are in existence now," he answered. "while i was acting as model to apelles--and i may remark that i never grew tired of standing in the position he desired--i listened with great satisfaction to the conversations between him and the friends who called upon him while he was at work. the chief of these was hippocrates, the celebrated physician, between whom and apelles a strong friendship existed. "hippocrates was a man of great common sense. he did not believe that diseases were caused by spirits and demons and all that sort of thing, and in many ways he made himself very interesting to me. so, in course of time, after having visited him a good deal, i made up my mind to quit the study of art and go into that of medicine. "i got on very well, and after a time i practiced with him in many cases, and he must have had a good deal of confidence in me, for when the king of persia sent for him to come to his court, offering him all sorts of munificent rewards, hippocrates declined, but he suggested to me that i should go. "'you look like a doctor,' said he. 'the king would have confidence in you simply on account of your presence; and, besides, you do know a great deal about medicine.' but i did not go to persia, and shortly after that i left the island of cos and gave up the practice of medicine. later, in the second century before christ, i made the acquaintance of a methodist doctor--" "a what?" mrs. crowder and i exclaimed at the same moment. he laughed. "i thought that would surprise you, but it is true." "of course it is true," said his wife, coloring a little. "does thee think i would doubt anything thee told me? if thee had said that abraham had a quaker cook, i would have believed it." "and if i had told you that," said mr. crowder, "it would have been so. but to explain about this methodist doctor. in those days the physicians were divided into three schools: empirics, dogmatists, and methodists. this man i speak of--asclepiades--was the leading methodist physician, depending, as the name suggests, upon regular methods of treatment instead of experiments and theories adapted to the particular case in hand. "he also was a man of great good sense, and was very witty besides. he made a good deal of fun of other physicians, and used to call the system of hippocrates 'meditation on death.' i studied with him for some time, but it was not until the first century of the present era that i really began the practice of my profession. then i made the acquaintance of the great galen. he was a man who was not only a physician, but an accomplished surgeon, and this could be said of very few people in that age of the world. i studied anatomy and surgery under him, and afterward practiced with him as i had done with hippocrates. "the study of anatomy was rather difficult in those days, because the roman laws forbade the dissection of citizens, and the anatomists had to depend for their knowledge of the human frame upon their examinations of the bodies of enemies killed in battle, or those of slaves, in whom no one took an interest; but most of all upon the bodies of apes. great numbers of these beasts were brought from africa solely for the use of the roman surgeons, and in that connection i remember an incident which was rather curious. "i had not finished my studies under galen when that great master one day informed me that a trader had brought him an ape, which had been confined in a small building near his house. he asked me to go out and kill it and have it brought into his dissecting-room, where he was to deliver a lecture to some students. "i started for the building referred to. on the way i was met by the trader. he was a vile-looking man, with black, matted hair and little eyes, who did not look much higher in intelligence than the brutes he dealt in. he grinned diabolically as he led me to the little house and opened the door. i looked in. there was no ape there, but in one corner sat a dark-brown african girl. i looked at the man in surprise. 'the ape i was to bring got away from me,' he said, 'but that thing will do a great deal better, and i will not charge any more for it than for the ape. kill it, and we will put it into a bag and carry it to the doctor. he will be glad to see what we have brought him instead of an ape.' "i angrily ordered the man to leave the place, and taking the girl by the arm,--although i had a good deal of trouble in catching her,--i led her to galen and told him the story." "and what became of the poor thing?" asked mrs. crowder. "galen bought her from the man at the price of an ape, and tried to have her educated as a servant, but she was a wild creature and could not be taught much. in some way or other the people in charge of the amphitheater got possession of her, and i heard that she was to figure in the games at an approaching great occasion. i was shocked and grieved to hear this, for i had taken an interest in the girl, and i knew what it meant for her to take part in the games in the arena. i tried to buy her, but it was of no use: she was wanted for a particular purpose. on the day she was to appear in the arena i was there." "i don't see how thee could do it," said mrs. crowder, her face quite pale. "people's sensibilities were different in those days," said her husband. "i don't suppose i could do such a thing now. after a time she was brought out and left entirely alone in the middle of the great space. she was nearly frightened to death by the people and the fear of some unknown terror. trembling from head to foot, she looked from side to side, and at last sank crouching on the ground. everybody was quiet, for it was not known what was to happen next. then a grating sound was heard, with the clank of an iron door, and a large brown bear appeared in the arena. the crouching african fixed her eyes upon him, but did not move. [illustration: "'the crouching african fixed her eyes upon him.'"] "the idea of a combat between this tender girl and a savage bear could not be entertained. what was about to occur seemed simply a piece of brutal carnage, with nothing to make it interesting. a great many people expressed their dissatisfaction. the hard-hearted populace, even if they did not care about fair play in their games, did desire some element of chance which would give flavor to the cruelty. but here was nothing of the sort. it would have been as well to feed the beast with a sheep. "the bear, however, seemed to look upon the performance as one which would prove very satisfactory. he was hungry, not having had anything to eat for several days, and here was an appetizing young person waiting for him to devour her. "he had fixed his eyes upon her the moment he appeared, and had paid no attention whatever to the crowds by which he was surrounded. he gave a slight growl, the hair on his neck stood up, and he made a quick movement toward the girl. but she did not wait for him. springing to her feet, she fled, the bear after her. "now followed one of the most exciting chases ever known in the history of the roman amphitheater. that frightened girl, as swift as a deer, ran around and around the vast space, followed closely by her savage pursuer. but although he was active and powerful and unusually swift for a bear, he could not catch her. "around and around she went, and around went the red-eyed beast behind her; but he could not gain upon her, and she gave no sign that her strength was giving out. "now the audience began to perceive that a contest was really going on: it was a contest of speed and endurance, and the longer the girl ran the more inclined the people were to take her part. at last there was a great shout that she should be allowed to escape. a little door was opened in the side of the amphitheater; she shot through it, and it was closed almost in the face of the panting and furious bear." "what became of the poor girl?" exclaimed mrs. crowder. "a sculptor bought her," said mr. crowder. "he wanted to use her as a model for a statue of the swift diana; but this never came to anything. the girl could not be made to stand still for a moment. she was in a chronic condition of being frightened to death. after that i heard of her no more; it was easy for people to disappear in rome. but this incident in the arena was remembered and talked about for many years afterward. the fact that a girl was possessed of such extraordinary swiftness that she would have been able to escape from a wild beast, by means of her speed alone, had she been in an open plain, was considered one of the most interesting natural wonders which had been brought to the notice of the roman people by the sports in the arena." "fortunately," said mrs. crowder, "thee did not--" "no," said her husband, "i did not. i required more than speed in a case like that. and now i think," said he, rising, "we must call this session concluded." the next day i was obliged to bid farewell to the crowders, and my business arrangements made it improbable that i should see them again for a long time--i could not say how long. as i bade mr. crowder farewell and stood holding his hand in mine, he smiled, and said: "that's right. look hard at me; study every line in my face, and then when you see me again you will be better able--" "not a bit," said mrs. crowder. "he is just as able to judge now as he will be if he stays away for twenty years." i believed her, as i warmly shook her hand, and i believe that i shall always continue to believe her. by al haines. the prince of india or why constantinople fell by lew. wallace vol. ii. _rise, too, ye shapes and shadows of the past rise from your long forgotten grazes at last let us behold your faces, let us hear the words you uttered in those days of fear revisit your familiar haunts again the scenes of triumph and the scenes of pain and leave the footprints of your bleeding feet once more upon the pavement of the street_ longfellow contents book iv the palace of blacherne (_continued_) chapter xi. the princess hears from the world xii. lael tells of her two fathers xiii. the hamari turns boatman xiv. the princess has a creed xv. the prince of india preaches god to the greeks xvi. how the new faith was received xvii. lael and the sword of solomon xviii. the festival of flowers xix. the prince builds castles for his gul bahar xx. the silhouette of a crime xxi. sergius learns a new lesson xxii. the prince of india seeks mahommed xxiii. sergius and nilo take up the hunt xxiv. the imperial cistern gives up its secret book v mirza i. a cold wind from adrianople ii. a fire from the hegumen's tomb iii. mirza does an errand for mahommed iv. the emir in italy v. the princess irene in town vi. count corti in sancta sophia vii. count corti to mahommed viii. our lord's creed ix. count corti to mahommed x. sergius to the lion book vi constantine i. the sword of solomon ii. mahommed and count corti make a wager iii. the bloody harvest iv. europe answers the cry for help v. count corti receives a favor vi. mahommed at the gate st. romain vii. the great gun speaks viii. mahommed tries his guns again ix. the madonna to the rescue x. the night before the assault xi. count corti in dilemma xii. the assault xiii. mahommed in sancta sophia book iv the palace of blacherne (_continued_) chapter xi the princess hears from the world the sun shone clear and hot, and the guests in the garden were glad to rest in the shaded places of promenade along the brooksides and under the beeches and soaring pines of the avenues. far up the extended hollow there was a basin first to receive the water from the conduit supposed to tap the aqueduct leading down from the forest of belgrade. the noise of the little cataract there was strong enough to draw a quota of visitors. from the front gate to the basin, from the basin to the summit of the promontory, the company in lingering groups amused each other detailing what of fortune good and bad the year had brought them. the main features of such meetings are always alike. there were games by the children, lovers in retired places, and old people plying each other with reminiscences. the faculty of enjoyment changes but never expires. an array of men chosen for the purpose sallied from the basement of the palace carrying baskets of bread, fruits in season, and wine of the country in water-skins. dispersing themselves through the garden, they waited on the guests, and made distribution without stint or discrimination. the heartiness of their welcome may be imagined; while the thoughtful reader will see in the liberality thus characterizing her hospitality one of the secrets of the princess's popularity with the poor along the bosphorus. nor that merely. a little reflection will lead up to an explanation of her preference for the homeric residence by therapia. the commonalty, especially the unfortunate amongst them, were a kind of constituency of hers, and she loved living where she could most readily communicate with them. this was the hour she chose to go out and personally visit her guests. descending from the portico, she led her household attendants into the garden. she alone appeared unveiled. the happiness of the many amongst whom she immediately stepped touched every spring of enjoyment in her being; her eyes were bright, her cheeks rosy, her spirit high; in a word, the beauty so peculiarly hers, and which no one could look on without consciousness of its influence, shone with singular enhancement. news that she was in the garden spread rapidly, and where she went everyone arose and remained standing. now and then, while making acknowledgments to groups along the way, she recognized acquaintances, and for such, whether men or women, she had a smile, sometimes a word. upon her passing, they pursued with benisons, "god bless you!" "may the holy mother keep her!" not unfrequently children ran flinging flowers at her feet, and mothers knelt and begged her blessing. they had lively recollection of a sickness or other overtaking by sorrow, and of her boat drawing to the landing laden with delicacies, and bringing what was quite as welcome, the charm of her presence, with words inspiring hope and trust. the vast, vociferous, premeditated roman ovation, sonorously the triumph, never brought a consular hero the satisfaction this christian woman now derived. she was aware of the admiration which went with her, and the sensation was of walking through a purer and brighter sunshine. nor did she affect to put aside the triumph there certainly was in the demonstration; but she accounted it the due of charity--a triumph of good work done for the pleasure there was in the doing. at the basin mentioned as the landward terminus of the garden the progress in that direction stopped. thence, after gracious attentions to the women and children there, the princess set out for the summit of the promontory. the road taken was broad and smooth, and on the left hand lined from bottom to top with pine trees, some of which are yet standing. the summit had been a place of interest time out of mind. from its woody cover, the first inhabitants beheld the argonauts anchor off the town of amycus, king of the bebryces; there the vengeful medea practised her incantations; and descending to acknowledged history, it were long telling the notable events of the ages landmarked by the hoary height. when the builder of the palace below threw his scheme of improvement over the brow of the hill, he constructed water basins on different levels, surrounding them with raised walls artistically sculptured; between the basins he pitched marble pavilions, looking in the distance like airy domes on a cyclopean temple; then he drew the work together by a tesselated pavement identical with the floor of the house of caesar hard by the forum in rome. giving little heed to the other guests in occupancy of the summit, the attendants of the princess broke into parties sight seeing; while she called sergius to her, and conducted him to a point commanding the bosphorus for leagues. a favorite lookout, in fact, the spot had been provided with a pavement and a capacious chair cut from a block of the coarse brown limestone native to the locality. there she took seat, and the ascent, though all in shade, having been wearisome, she was glad of the blowing of the fresh upper air. from a place in the rear sergius had witnessed the progress to the present halt. every incident and demonstration had been in his view and hearing. the expressions of affection showered upon the princess were delightful to him; they seemed so spontaneous and genuine. as testimony to her character in the popular estimate at least, they left nothing doubtful. his first impression of her was confirmed. she was a woman to whom heaven had confided every grace and virtue. such marvels had been before. he had heard of them in tradition, and always in a strain to lift those thus favored above the hardened commonplace of human life, creatures not exactly angels, yet moving in the same atmosphere with angels. the monasteries, even those into whose gates women are forbidden to look, all have stories of womanly excellence which the monks tell each other in pauses from labor in the lentil patch, and in their cells after vesper prayers. in brief, so did sergius' estimate of the princess increase that he was unaware of impropriety when, trudging slowly after the train of attendants, he associated her with heroines most odorous in church and scriptural memories; with mothers superior famous for sanctity; with saints, like theckla and cecilia; with the prophetess who was left by the wayside in the desert of zin, and the later seer and singer, she who had her judgment-seat under the palm tree of deborah. withal, however, the monk was uncomfortable. the words of his hegumen pursued him. should he tell the princess? assailed by doubts, he followed her to the lookout on the edge of the promontory. seating herself, she glanced over the wide field of water below; from the vessels there, she gazed across to asia; then up at the sky, full to its bluest depth with the glory of day. at length she asked: "have you heard from father hilarion?" "not yet," sergius replied. "i was thinking of him," she continued. "he used to tell me of the primitive church--the church of the disciples. one of his lessons returns to me. he seems to be standing where you are. i hear his voice. i see his countenance. i remember his words: 'the brethren while of one faith, because the creed was too simple for division, were of two classes, as they now are and will always be'--ay, sergius, as they will always be!--'but,' he said, 'it is worthy remembrance, my dear child, unlike the present habit, the rich held their riches with the understanding that the brethren all had shares in them. the owner was more than owner; he was a trustee charged with the safe-keeping of his property, and with farming it to the best advantage, that he might be in condition to help the greatest number of the christian brotherhood according to their necessities.' i wondered greatly at the time, but not now. the delight i have today confirms the father; for it is not in my palace and garden, nor in my gold, but in the power i derive from them to give respite from the grind of poverty to so many less fortunate than myself. 'the divine order was not to desist from getting wealth'--thus the father continued--'for christ knew there were who, labor as they might, could not accumulate or retain; circumstances would be against them, or the genius might be wanting. poor without fault, were they to suffer, and curse god with the curse of the sick, the cold, the naked, the hungry? oh, no! christ was the representative of the infinitely merciful. under his dispensation they were to be partners of the more favored.' who can tell, who can begin to measure the reward there is to me in the laughter of children at play under the trees by the brooks, and in the cheer and smiles of women whom i have been able to draw from the unvarying routine of toil like theirs?" there was a ship with full spread sail speeding along so close in shore sergius could have thrown a stone on its deck. he affected to be deeply interested in it. the ruse did not avail him. "what is the matter?" receiving no reply, she repeated the question. "my dear friend, you are not old enough in concealment to deceive me. you are in trouble. come sit here.... true, i am not an authorized confessor; yet i know the principle on which the church defends the confessional. let me share your burden. insomuch as you give me, you shall be relieved." it came to him then that he must speak. "princess," he began, striving to keep his voice firm, "you know not what you ask." "is it what a woman may hear?" a step nearer brought him on the tesselated square. "i hesitate, princess, because a judgment is required of me. hear, and help me first." then he proceeded rapidly: "there is one just entered holy service. he is a member of an ancient and honorable brotherhood, and by reason of his inexperience, doubtless, its obligations rest the heavier on his conscience. his superior has declared to him how glad he would be had he a son like him, and confiding in his loyalty, he intrusted him with gravest secrets; amongst others, that a person well known and greatly beloved is under watch for the highest of religious crimes. pause now, o princess, and consider the obligations inseparable from the relation and trust here disclosed.... look then to this other circumstance. the person accused condescended to be the friend and patron of the same neophyte, and by vouching for him to the head of the church, put him on the road to favor and quick promotion. briefly, o princess, to which is obligation first owing? the father superior or the patron in danger?" the princess replied calmly, but with feeling: "it is not a supposition, sergius." though surprised, he returned: "without it i could not have your decision first." "thou, sergius, art the distressed neophyte." he held his hands out to her: "give me thy judgment." "the hegumen of the st. james' is the accuser." "be just, o princess! to which is the obligation first owing?" "i am the accused," she continued, in the same tone. he would have fallen on his knees. "no, keep thy feet. a watchman may be behind me now." he had scarcely resumed his position before she asked, still in the quiet searching manner: "what is the highest religious crime? or rather, to men in authority, like the hegumen of your brotherhood, what is the highest of all crimes?" he looked at her in mute supplication. "i will tell you--heresy." then, compassionating his suffering, she added: "my poor sergius! i am not upbraiding you. you are showing me your soul. i see it in its first serious trial.... i will forget that i am the denounced, and try to help you. is there no principle to which we can refer the matter--no christian principle? the hegumen claims silence from you; on the other side, your conscience--i would like to say preference--impels you to speak a word of warning for the benefit of your patroness. there, now, we have both the dispute and the disputants. is it not so?" sergius bowed his head. "father hilarion once said to me: 'daughter, i give you the ultimate criterion of the divineness of our religion--there cannot be an instance of human trial for which it does not furnish a rule of conduct and consolation.' a profound saying truly! now is it possible we have here at last an exception? i do not seek to know on which side the honors lie. where are the humanities? ideas of honor are of men conventional. on the other hand, the humanities stand for charity. if thou wert the denounced, o sergius, how wouldst thou wish to be done by?" sergius' face brightened. "we are not seeking to save a heretic--we are in search of quiet for our consciences. so why not ask and answer further: what would befall the hegumen, did you tell the accused all you had from him? would he suffer? is there a tribunal to sentence him? or a prison agape for him? or torture in readiness? or a king of lions? in these respects how is it with the friend who vouched for you to the head of the church? alas!" "enough--say no more!" sergius cried impulsively. "say no more. o princess, i will tell everything--i will save you, if i can--if not, and the worst come, i will die with you." womanlike the princess signalized her triumph with tears. at length she asked: "wouldst thou like to know if i am indeed a heretic?" "yes, for what thou art, that am i; and then"-- "the same fire in the hippodrome may light us both out of the world." there was a ring of prophecy in the words. "god forbid!" he ejaculated, with a shiver. "god's will be done, were better! ... so, if it please you," she went on, "tell me all the hegumen told you about me." "everything?" he asked doubtfully. "why not?" "part of it is too wicked for repetition." "yet it was an accusation." "yes." "sergius, you are no match in cunning for my enemies. they are greeks trained to diplomacy; you are"--she paused and half smiled--"only a pupil of hilarion's. see now--if they mean to kill me, how important to invent a tale which shall rob me of sympathy, and reconcile the public to my sacrifice. they who do much good, and no harm"--she cast a glance at the people swarming around the pavilions--"always have friends. such is the law of kindness, and it never failed but once; but today a splinter of the cross is worth a kingdom." "princess, i will hold nothing back." "and i, sergius--god witnessing for me--will speak to each denunciation thou givest me." "there were two matters in the hegumen's mind," sergius began, but struck with the abruptness, he added apologetically: "i pray you, princess, remember i speak at your insistence, and that i am not in any sense an accuser. it may be well to say also the hegumen returned from last night's mystery low in spirits, and much spent bodily, and before speaking of you, declared he had been an active partisan of your father's. i do not think him your personal enemy." a mist of tears dimmed her eyes while the princess replied: "he was my father's friend, and i am grateful to him; but alas! that he is naturally kind and just is now of small consequence." "it grieves me"-- "do not stop," she said, interrupting him. "at the father's bedside i received his blessing; and asked leave to be absent a few days. 'where?' he inquired, and i answered: 'thou knowest i regard the princess irene as my little mother. i should like to go see her.'" sergius sought his auditor's face at this, and observing no sign of objection to the familiarity, was greatly strengthened. "the father endeavored to persuade me not to come, and it was with that purpose he entered upon the disclosures you ask.... 'the life the princess leads'--thus he commenced--'and her manners, are outside the sanctions of society.'" here, from resting on her elbow, the listener sat upright, grasping the massive arm of the chair. "shall i proceed, o princess?" "yes." "this place is very public"--he glanced at the people above them. "i will hear you here." "at your pleasure.... the hegumen referred next to your going about publicly unveiled. while not positively wrong, he condemned the practice as a pernicious example; besides which there was a defiant boldness in it, he said, tending to make you a subject of discussion and indelicate remark." the hand on the stony arm trembled. "i fear, o princess," sergius continued, with downcast look, "that my words are giving you pain." "but they are not yours. go on." "then the father came to what was much more serious." sergius again hesitated. "i am listening," she said. "he termed it your persistence in keeping up the establishment here at therapia." the princess grew red and white by turns. "he said the turk was too near you; that unmarried and unprotected your proper place was in some house of god on the islands, or in the city, where you could have the benefit of holy offices. as it was, rumor was free to accuse you of preferring guilty freedom to marriage." the breeze fell off that moment, leaving the princess in the centre of a profound hush; except for the unwonted labor of her heart, the leaves overhead were not more still. the sight of her was too oppressive--sergius turned away. presently he heard her say, as if to herself: "i am indeed in danger. if my death were not in meditation, the boldest of them would not dare think so foul a falsehood.... sergius," she said. he turned to her, but she broke off diverted by another idea. had this last accusation reference to the emperor's dream of making her his wife? could the emperor have published what took place between them? impossible! "sergius, did the hegumen tell you whence this calumny had origin?" "he laid it to rumor merely." "surely he disclosed some ground for it. a dignitary of his rank and profession cannot lend himself to shaming a helpless woman without reason or excuse." "except your residence at therapia, he gave no reason." here she looked at sergius, and the pain in the glance was pitiful. "my friend, is there anything in your knowledge which might serve such a rumor?" "yes," he replied, letting his eyes fall. "what!" and she lifted her head, and opened her eyes. he stood silent and evidently suffering. "poor sergius! the punishment is yours. i am sorry for you--sorry we entered on this subject--but it is too late to retire from it. speak bravely. what is it you know against me? it cannot be a crime; much i doubt if it be a sin; my walk has been very strait and altogether in god's view. speak!" "princess," he answered, "coming down from the landing, i was stopped by a concourse studying a brass plate nailed to the right-hand pillar of your gate. it was inscribed, but none of them knew the import of the inscription. the hamari came up, and at sight of it fell to saluting, like the abject eastern he is. the bystanders chaffered him, and he retorted, and, amongst other things, said the brass was a safeguard directed to all turks, notifying them that this property, its owner, and inmates were under protection of the prince mahommed. give heed now, i pray you, o princess, to this other thing of the man's saying. the notice was the prince mahommed's, the inscription his signature, and the prince himself fixed the plate on the pillar with his own hand." sergius paused. "well," she asked. "the inferences--consider them." "state them." "my tongue refuses. or if i must, o princess, i will use the form of accusation others are likely to have adopted. 'the princess irene lives at therapia because prince mahommed is her lover, and it is a convenient place of meeting. therefore his safeguard on her gate.'" "no one could be bold enough to"-- "one has been bold enough." "one?" "the hegumen of my brotherhood." the princess was very pale. "it is cruel--cruel!" she exclaimed. "what ought i to do?" "treat the safeguard as a discovery of to-day, and have it removed while the people are all present." she looked at him searchingly. on her forehead between the brows, he beheld a line never there before. more surprising was the failure of self-reliance observable in her request for counsel. heretofore her courage and sufficiency had been remarkable. in all dealings with him she had proved herself the directress, quick yet decided. the change astonished him, so little was he acquainted with the feminine nature; and in reply he spoke hastily, hardly knowing what he had said. the words were not straightforward and honest; they were not becoming him any more than the conduct suggested was becoming her; they lingered in his ear, a wicked sound, and he would have recalled them--but he hesitated. here a voice in fierce malediction was heard up at the pavilions, together with a prodigious splashing of water. laughter, clapping of hands, and other expressions of delight succeeded. "go, sergius, and see what is taking place," said the princess. glad of the opportunity to terminate the painful scene, he hastened to the reservoirs and returned. "your presence will restore quiet at once." the people made way for their hostess with alacrity. the hamari, it appeared, had just arrived from the garden. observing lael in the midst of the suite of fair ladies, he advanced to her with many strange salutations. alarmed, she would have run away had not joqard broken from his master, and leaped with a roar into the water. the poor beast seemed determined to enjoy the bath. he swam, and dived, and played antics without number. in vain the showman, resorting to every known language, coaxed and threatened by turns--joqard was self-willed and happy, and it were hard saying which appreciated his liberty most, he or the spectators of the scene. the princess, for the time conquering her pain of heart, interceded for the brute; whereupon the hamari, like a philosopher used to making the best of surprises, joined in the sport until joqard grew tired, and voluntarily returned to control. chapter xii lael tells of her two fathers word passed from the garden to the knots of people on the height: "come down quickly. they are making ready for the boat race." directly the reservoirs, the pavilions, and the tesselation about them were deserted. the princess irene, with her suite, made the descent to the garden more at leisure, knowing the regatta would wait for her. so it happened she was at length in charge of what seemed a rear guard; but how it befell that sergius and lael drew together, the very last of that rear guard, is not of such easy explanation. whether by accident or mutual seeking, side by side the two moved slowly down the hill, one moment in the shade of the kingly pines, then in the glowing sunshine. the noises of the celebration, the shouting, singing, calling, and merry outcries of children ascended to them, and through the verdurousness below, lucent as a lake, gleams of color flashed from scarfs, mantles, embroidered jackets, and flaming petticoats. "i hope you are enjoying yourself," he said to lael, upon their meeting. "oh, yes! how could i help it--everything is delightful. and the princess--she is so good and gracious. oh, if i were a man, i should go mad with loving her!" she spoke with enthusiasm; she even drew her veil partially aside; yet sergius did not respond; he was asking himself if it were possible the girl could be an impostor. presently he resolved to try her with questions. "tell me of your father. is he well?" at this she raised her veil entirely, and in turn asked: "which father do you mean?" "which father," he repeated, stopping. "oh, i have the advantage of everybody else! i have two fathers." he could do no more than repeat after her: "two fathers!" "yes; uel the merchant is one of them, and the prince of india is the other. i suppose you mean the prince, since you know him. he accompanied me to the landing this morning, and seated me in the boat. he was then well." there was no concealment here. yet sergius saw the disclosure was not complete. he was tempted to go on. "two fathers! how can such thing be?" she met the question with a laugh. "oh! if it depended on which of them is the kinder to me, i could not tell you the real father." sergius stood looking at her, much as to say: "that is no answer; you are playing with me." "see how we are falling behind," she then said. "come, let us go on. i can talk while walking." they set forward briskly, but it was noticeable that he moved nearer her, stooping from his great height to hear further. "this is the way of it," she continued of her own prompting. "some years ago, my father, uel, the merchant, received a letter from an old friend of his father's, telling him that he was about to return to constantinople after a long absence in the east somewhere, and asking if he, uel, would assist the servant who was bearer of the note in buying and furnishing a house. uel did so, and when the stranger arrived, his home was ready for him. i was then a little girl, and went one day to see the prince of india, his residence being opposite uel's on the other side of the street. he was studying some big books, but quit them, and picked me up, and asked me who i was? i told him uel was my father. what was my name? lael, i said. how old was i? and when i answered that also, he kissed me, and cried, and, to my wonder, declared how he had once a child named lael; she looked like me, and was just my age when she died"-- "wonderful!" exclaimed sergius. "yes, and he then said heaven had sent me to take her place. would i be his lael? i answered i would, if uel consented. he took me in his arms, carried me across the street and talked so uel could not have refused had he wanted to." the manner of the telling was irresistible. at the conclusion, she turned to him and said, with emotion: "there, now. you see i really have two fathers, and you know how i came by them: and were i to recount their goodness to me, and how they both love me, and how happy each one of them is in believing me the object of the other's affection, you would understand just as well how i know no difference between them." "it is strange; yet as you tell it, little friend, it is not strange," he returned, seriously. they were at the instant in a bar of brightest sunlight projected across the road; and had she asked him the cause of the frown on his face, he could not have told her he was thinking of demedes. "yes, i see it--i see it, and congratulate you upon being so doubly blessed. tell me next who the prince of india is." she looked now here, now there, he watching her narrowly. "oh! i never thought of asking him about himself." she was merely puzzled by an unexpected question. "but you know something of him?" "let me think," she replied. "yes, he was the intimate of my father uel's father, and of his father before him." "is he so old then?" "i cannot say how long he has been a family acquaintance. of my knowledge he is very learned in everything. he speaks all the languages i ever heard of; he passes the nights alone on the roof of his house"-- "alone on the roof of his house!" "only of clear nights, you understand. a servant carries a chair and table up for him, and a roll of papers, with pen and ink, and a clock of brass and gold. the paper is a map of the heavens; and he sits there watching the stars, marking them in position on the map, the clock telling him the exact time." "an astronomer," said sergius. "and an astrologer," she added; "and besides these things he is a doctor, but goes only amongst the poor, taking nothing from them. he is also a chemist; and he has tables of the plants curative and deadly, and can extract their qualities, and reduce them from fluids to solids, and proportionate them. he is also a master of figures, a science, he always terms it, the first of creative principles without which god could not be god. so, too, he is a traveller--indeed i think he has been over the known world. you cannot speak of a capital or of an island, or a tribe which he has not visited. he has servants from the farthest east. one of his attendants is an african king; and what is the strangest to me, sergius, his domestics are all deaf and dumb." "impossible!" "nothing appears impossible to him." "how does he communicate with them?" "they catch his meaning from the motion of his lips. he says signs are too slow and uncertain for close explanations." "still he must resort to some language." "oh, yes, the greek." "but if they have somewhat to impart to him?" "it is theirs to obey, and pantomime seems sufficient to convey the little they have to return to him, for it is seldom more than, 'my lord, i have done the thing you gave me to do.' if the matter be complex, he too resorts to the lip-speech, which he could not teach without first being proficient in it himself. thus, for instance, to nilo"-- "the black giant who defended you against the greek?" "yes--a wonderful man--an ally, not a servant. on the journey to constantinople, the prince turned aside into an african kingdom called kash-cush. i cannot tell where it is. nilo was the king, and a mighty hunter and warrior. his trappings hang in his room now--shields, spears, knives, bows and arrows, and among them a net of linen threads. when he took the field for lions, his favorite game, the net and a short sword were all he cared for. his throne room, i have heard my father the prince say, was carpeted with skins taken by him in single combats." "what could he do with the net, little princess?" "i will give you his account; perhaps you can see it clearly--i cannot. when the monster makes his leap, the corners of the net are tossed up in the air, and he is in some way caught and tangled... well, as i was saying, nilo, though deaf and dumb, of choice left his people and throne to follow the prince, he knew not where." "oh, little friend! do you know you are talking the incredible to me? who ever heard of such thing before?" sergius' blue eyes were astare with wonder. "i only speak what i have heard recounted by my father, the prince, to my other father, uel.... what i intended saying was that directly the prince established himself at home he began teaching nilo to converse. the work was slow at first; but there is no end to the master's skill and patience; he and the king now talk without hindrance. he has even made him a believer in god." "a christian, you mean." "no. in my father's opinion the mind of a wild man cannot comprehend modern christianity; nobody can explain the trinity; yet a child can be taught the almightiness of god, and won to faith in him." "do you speak for yourself or the prince?" "the prince," she replied. sergius was struck with the idea, and wished to go further with it, but they were at the foot of the hill, and lael exclaimed, "the garden is deserted. we may lose the starting of the race. let us hurry." "nay, little friend, you forget how narrow my skirts are. i cannot run. let us walk fast. give me a hand. there now--we will arrive in time." near the palace, however, sergius dropped into his ordinary gait; then coming to a halt, he asked: "tell me to whom else you have related this pretty tale of the two fathers?" his look and tone were exceedingly grave, and she studied his face, and questioned him in turn: "you are very serious--why?" "oh, i was wondering if the story is public?" more plainly, he was wondering whence demedes had his information. "i suppose it is generally known; at least i cannot see why it should not be." the few words swept the last doubt from his mind; yet she continued: "my father uel is well known to the merchants of the city. i have heard him say gratefully that since the coming of the prince of india his business has greatly increased. he used to deal in many kinds of goods; now he sells nothing but precious stones. his patrons are not alone the nobles of byzantium; traders over in galata buy of him for the western markets, especially italy and france. my other father, the prince, is an expert in such things, and does not disdain to help uel with advice." lael might have added that the prince, in course of his travels, had ascertained the conveniency of jewels as a currency familiar and acceptable to almost every people, and always kept a store of them by him, from which he frequently replenished his protege's stock, allowing him the profits. that she did not make this further disclosure was probably due to ignorance of the circumstances; in other words, her artlessness was extreme enough to render her a dangerous confidant, and both her fathers were aware of it. "everybody in the bazaar is friendly to my father uel, and the prince visits him there, going in state; and he and his train are an attraction"--thus lael proceeded. "on his departure, the questions about him are countless, and uel holds nothing back. indeed, it is more than likely he has put the whole mart and city in possession of the history of my adoption by the prince." in front of the palace she broke off abruptly: "but see! the landing is covered with men and women. let us hurry." presently they issued from the garden, and were permitted to join the princess. chapter xiii the hamari turns boatman the boatmen had taken up some of the marble blocks of the landing, and planting long oars upright in the ground, and fixing other oars crosswise on them, constructed a secure frame covered with fresh sail-cloth. from their vessels they had also brought material for a dais under the shelter thus improvised; another sail for carpet, and a chair on the dais completed the stand whence the princess was to view and judge the race. a way was opened for her through the throng, and with her attendants, she passed to the stand; and as she went, all the women near reached out their hands and reverently touched the skirt of her gown--so did their love for her trench on adoration. the shore from the stand to the town, and from the stand again around the promontory on the south, was thronged with spectators, while every vantage point fairly in view was occupied by them; even the ships were pressed into the service; and somehow the air over and about the bay seemed to give back and tremble with the eagerness of interest everywhere discernible. between fanar, the last northern point of lookout over the black sea, and galata, down on the golden horn, there are about thirty hamlets, villages and cities specking the european shore of the bosphorus. each of them has its settlement of fishermen. aside from a voluminous net, the prime necessity for successful pursuit of the ancient and honorable calling is a boat. like most things of use amongst men, the vessel of preferred model here came of evolution. the modern tourist may yet see its kind drawn up at every landing he passes. proper handling, inclusive of running out and hauling in the seine, demanded a skilful crew of at least five men; and as whole lives were devoted to rowing, the proficiency finally attained in it can be fancied. it was only natural, therefore, that the thirty communities should each insist upon having the crew of greatest excellence--the crew which could outrow any other five on the bosphorus; and as every byzantine greek was a passionate gambler, the wagers were without end. vauntings of the sort, like the black sea birds of unresting wings, went up and down the famous waterway. at long intervals occasions presented for the proof of these men of pride; after which, for a period there was an admitted champion crew, and a consequent hush of the babble and brawl. in determining to conclude the fete with a boat-race open to all greek comers from the capital to the cyanian rocks, the princess irene did more than secure a desirable climax; unconsciously, perhaps, she hit upon the measure most certain to bring peace to the thirty villages. she imposed but two conditions on the competitors--they should be fishermen and greeks. the interval between the announcement of the race and the day set for it had been filled with boasting, from which one would have supposed the bay of therapia at the hour of starting would be too contracted to hold the adversaries. when the hour came there were six crews present actually prepared to contest for the prize--a tall ebony crucifix, with a gilded image, to be displayed of holidays on the winning prow. the shrinkage told the usual tale of courage oozed out. there was of course no end of explanation. about three o'clock, the six boats, each with a crew of five men, were held in front of the princess' stand, representative of as many towns. their prows were decorated with banderoles large enough to be easily distinguished at a distance--one yellow, chosen for yenimahale; one blue, for buyukdere; one white, for therapia; one red, for stenia; one green, for balta-liman; and one half white and half scarlet, for bebek. the crews were in their seats--fellows with knotted arms bare to the shoulder; white shirts under jackets the color of the flags, trousers in width like petticoats. the feet were uncovered that, while the pull was in delivery, they might the better clinch the cleats across the bottom of the boat. the fresh black paint with which the vessels had been smeared from end to end on the outside was stoned smoothly down until it glistened like varnish. inside there was not a superfluity to be seen of the weight of a feather. the contestants knew every point of advantage, and, not less clearly, they were there to win or be beaten doing their best. they were cool and quiet; much more so, indeed, than the respective clansmen and clanswomen. from these near objects of interest, the princess directed a glance over the spreading field of dimpled water to a galley moored under a wooded point across on the asiatic shore. the point is now crowned with the graceful but neglected kiosk of the viceroy of egypt. that galley was the thither terminus of the race course, and the winners turning it, and coming back to the place of starting, must row in all about three miles. a little to the right of the princess' stand stood a pole of height to be seen by the multitude as well as the rival oarsmen, and a rope for hoisting a white flag to the top connected it with the chair on the dais. at the appearance of the flag the boats were to start; while it was flying, the race was on. and now the competitors are in position by lot from right to left. on bay and shore the shouting is sunk to a murmur. a moment more--but in that critical period an interruption occurred. a yell from a number of voices in sharpest unison drew attention to the point of land jutting into the water on the north side not inaptly called the toe of therapia, and a boat, turning the point, bore down with speed toward the sail-covered stand. there were four rowers in it; yet its glossy sides and air of trimness were significant of a seventh competitor for some reason behind time. the black flag at the prow and the black uniform of the oarsmen confirmed the idea. the hand of the princess was on the signal rope; but she paused. as the boat-hook of the newcomers fell on the edge of the landing, one of them dropped upon his knees, crying: "grace, o princess! grace, and a little time!" the four were swarthy men, and, unlike the greeks they were seeking to oppose, their swart was a peculiarity of birth, a racial sign. recognizing them, the spectators near by shouted: "gypsies! gypsies!" and the jeer passed from mouth to mouth far as the bridge over the creek at the corner of the bay; yet it was not ill-natured. that these unbelievers of unknown origin, separatists like the jews, could offer serious opposition to the chosen of the towns was ridiculous. since they excited no apprehension, their welcome was general. "why the need of grace? who are you?" the princess replied, gravely. "we are from the valley by buyukdere," the man returned. "are you fishermen?" "judged by our catches the year through, and the prices we get in the market, o princess, it is not boasting to say our betters cannot be found, though you search both shores between fanar and the isles of the princes." this was too much for the bystanders. the presence they were in was not sufficient to restrain an outburst of derision. "but the conditions of the race shut you out. you are not greeks," the judge continued. "nay, princess, that is according to the ground of judgment. if it please you to decide by birth and residence rather than ancestry, then are we to be preferred over many of the nobles who go in and out of his majesty's gates unchallenged. has not the sweet water that comes down from the hills seeking the sea through our meadow furnished drink for our fathers hundreds of years? and as it knew them, it knows us." "well answered, i must admit. now, my friend, do as wisely with what i ask next, and you shall have a place. say you come out winners, what will you do with the prize? i have heard you are not christians." the man raised his face the first time. "not christians! were the charge true, then, argument being for the hearing, i would say the matter of religion is not among the conditions. but i am a petitioner, not lawyer, and to my rude thinking it is better that i hold on as i began. trust us, o princess! there is a plane tree, wondrous old, and with seven twin trunks, standing before our tents, and in it there is a hollow which shelters securely as a house. attend me now, i pray. if happily we win, we will convert the tree into a cathedral, and build an altar in it, and set the prize above the altar in such style that all who love the handiworks of nature better than the artfulness of men may come and worship there reverently as in the holiest of houses, sancta sophia not excepted." "i will trust you. with such a promise overheard by so many of this concourse, to refuse you a part in the race were a shame to the immaculate mother. but how is it you are but four?" "we were five, o princess; now one is sick. it was at his bidding we come; he thought of the hundreds of oarsmen who would be here one at least could be induced to share our fortune." "you have leave to try them." the man arose, and looked at the bystanders, but they turned away. "a hundred noumiae for two willing hands!" he shouted. there was no reply. "if not for the money, then in honor of the noble lady who has feasted you and your wives and children." a voice answered out of the throng: "here am i!" and presently the hamari appeared with the bear behind him. "here," he said, "take care of joqard for me. i will row in the sick man's place, and"-- the remainder of the sentence was lost in an outburst of gibing--and laughter. finally the princess asked the rowers if they were satisfied with the volunteer. they surveyed him doubtfully. "art thou an oarsman?" one of them asked. "there is not a better on the bosphorus. and i will prove it. here, some of you--take the beast off my hands. fear not, friend, joqard's worst growl is inoffensive as thunder without lightning. that's a good man." and with the words the hamari released the leading strap, sprang into the boat, and without giving time for protest or remonstrance, threw off his jacket and sandals, tucked up his shirt-sleeves, and dropped into the vacant fifth seat. the dexterity with which he then unshipped the oars and took them in hand measurably quieted the associates thus audaciously adopted; his action was a kind of certificate that the right man had been sent them. "believe in me," he said, in a low tone. "i have the two qualities which will bring us home winners--skill and endurance." then he spoke to the princess: "noble lady, have i your consent to make a proclamation?" the manner of the request was singularly deferential. sergius observed the change, and took a closer look at him while the princess was giving the permission. standing upon the seat, the hamari raised his voice: "ho, here--there--every one!" and drawing a purse from his bosom, he waved it overhead, with a louder shout, "see!--a hundred noumiae, and not all copper either. piece against piece weighed or counted, i put them in wager! speak one or all. who dares the chance?" takers of the offer not appearing on the shore, he shook the purse at his competitors. "if we are not christians," he said to them, "we are oarsmen and not afraid. see--i stake this purse--if you win, it is yours." they only gaped at him. he put the purse back slowly, and recounting the several towns of his opponents by their proper names in greek, he cried: "buyukdere, therapia, stenia, bebek, balta-liman, yenimahale--your women will sing you low to-night!" then to the princess: "allow us now to take our place seventh on the left." the bystanders were in a maze. had they been served with a mess of brag, or was the fellow really capable? one thing was clear--the interest in the race had taken a rise perceptible in the judge's stand not less than on the crowded shore. the four gypsies, on their part, were content with the volunteer. in fact, they were more than satisfied when he said to them, as their vessel turned into position: "now, comrades, be governed by me; and besides the prize, if we win, you shall have my purse to divide amongst you man and man. is it agreed?" and they answered, foreman and all, yes. "very well," he returned. "do you watch, and get the time and force from me. now for the signal." the princess sent the starting flag to the top of the pole, and the boats were off together. a great shout went up from the spectators--a shout of men mingled with the screams of women to whom a hurrah or cheer of any kind appears impossible. to warm the blood, there is nothing after all like the plaudits of a multitude looking on and mightily concerned. this was now noticeable. the eyes of all the rowers enlarged; their teeth set hard; the arteries of the neck swelled; and even in their tension the muscles of the arms quivered. a much better arrangement would have been to allow the passage of the racers broadside to the shore; for then the shiftings of position, and the strategies resorted to would have been plain to the beholders; as it was, each foreshortened vessel soon became to them a black body, with but a man and one pair of oars in motion; and sometimes provokingly indistinguishable, the banderoles blew backward squarely in a line with the direction of the movement. then the friends on land gave over exercising their throats; finally drawn down to the water's edge, and pressing on each other, they steadied and welded into a mass, like a wall. once there was a general shout. gradually the boats had lost the formation of the start, and falling in behind each other, assumed an order comparable to a string. while this change was going on, a breeze unusually strong blew from the south, bringing every flag into view at the same time: when it was perceived that the red was in the lead. forthwith the clansmen of stenia united in a triumphant yell, followed immediately, however, by another yet louder. it was discovered, thanks to the same breeze, that the black banderole of the gypsies was the last of the seven. then even those who had been most impressed by the bravado of the hamari, surrendered themselves to laughter and sarcasm. "see the infidels!" "they had better be at home taking care of their kettles and goats!" "turn the seven twins into a cathedral, will they? the devil will turn them into porpoises first!" "where is the hamari now--where? by st. michael, the father of fishermen, he is finding what it is to have more noumiae than brains! ha, ha, ha!" nevertheless the coolest of the thirty-five men then scudding the slippery waterway was the hamari--he had started the coolest--he was the coolest now. for a half mile he allowed his crew to do their best, and with them he had done his best. the effort sufficed to carry them to the front, where he next satisfied himself they could stay, if they had the endurance. he called to them: "well done, comrades! the prize and the money are yours! but ease up a little. let them pass. we will catch them again at the turn. keep your eyes on me." insensibly he lessened the dip and reach of his oars; at last, as the thousands on the therapian shore would have had it, the gypsy racer was the hinderling of the pack. afterwards there were but trifling changes of position until the terminal galley was reached. by a rule of the race, the contestants were required to turn the galley, keeping it on the right; and it was a great advantage to be a clear first there, since the fortunate party could then make the round unhindered and in the least space. the struggle for the point began quite a quarter of a mile away. each crew applied itself to quickening the speed--every oar dipped deeper, and swept a wider span;--on a little, and the keepers of the galley could hear the half groan, half grunt with which the coming toilers relieved the extra exertion now demanded of them;--yet later, they saw them spring to their feet, reach far back, and finish the long deep draw by falling, or rather toppling backward to their seats. only the hamari eschewed the resort for the present. he cast a look forward, and said quickly: "attend, comrades!" thereupon he added weight to his left delivery, altering the course to an angle which, if pursued, must widen the circle around the galley instead of contracting it. on nearing the goal the rush of the boats grew fiercer; each foreman, considering it honor lost, if not a fatal mischance, did he fail to be first at the turning-point, persisted in driving straight forward--a madness which the furious yelling of the people on the marker's deck intensified. this was exactly what the hamari had foreseen. when the turn began five of the opposing vessels ran into each other. the boil and splash of water, breaking of oars, splintering of boatsides; the infuriate cries, oaths, and blind striving of the rowers, some intent on getting through at all hazards, some turned combatants, striking or parrying with their heavy oaken blades; the sound of blows on breaking heads; plunges into the foaming brine; blood trickling down faces and necks, and reddening naked arms--such was the catastrophe seen in its details from the overhanging gunwale of the galley. and while it went on, the worse than confused mass drifted away from the ship's side, leaving a clear space through which, with the first shout heard from him during the race, the hamari urged his crew, and rounded the goal. on the far therapian shore the multitude were silent. they could dimly see every incident at the turn--the collision, fighting, and manifold mishaps, and the confounding of the banderoles. then the stenia colors flashed round the galley, with the black behind it a close second. "is that the hamari's boat next the leader?" thus the princess, and upon the answer, she added: "it looks as if the holy one might find servants among the irreclaimables in the valley." had the gypsies at last a partisan? the two rivals were now clear of the galley. for a time there was but one cry heard--"stenia! stenia!" the five oarsmen of that charming town had been carefully selected; they were vigorous, skilful, and had a chief well-balanced in judgment. the race seemed theirs. suddenly--it was when the homestretch was about half covered--the black flag rushed past them. then the life went out of the multitude. "st. peter is dead!" they cried--"st. peter is dead! it is nothing to be a greek now!" and they hung their heads, refusing to be comforted. the gypsies came in first; and amidst the profoundest silence, they dropped their oars with a triumphant crash on the marble revetment. the hamari wiped the sweat from his face, and put on his jacket and sandals; pausing then to toss his purse to the foreman, and say: "take it in welcome, my friends. i am content with my share of the victory," he stepped ashore. in front of the judge's stand, he knelt, and said: "should there be a dispute touching the prize, o princess, be a witness unto thyself. thine eyes have seen the going and the coming; and if the world belie thee not--sometimes it can be too friendly--thou art fair, just and fearless." on foot again, his courtierly manner vanished in a twinkling. "joqard, joqard? where are you?" some one answered: "here he is." "bring him quickly. for joqard is an example to men--he is honest, and tells no lies. he has made much money, and allowed me to keep it all, and spend it on myself. women are jealous of him, but with reason--he is lovely enough to have been a love of solomon's; his teeth are as pearls of great price; his lips scarlet as a bride's; his voice is the voice of a nightingale singing to the full moon from an acacia tree fronded last night; in motion, he is now a running wave, now a blossom on a swaying branch, now a girl dancing before a king--all the graces are his. yes, bring me joqard, and keep the world; without him, it is nothing to me." while speaking, from a jacket pocket he brought out the fan lael had thrown him from the portico, and used it somewhat ostentatiously to cool himself. the princess and her attendants laughed heartily. sergius, however, watched the man with a scarcely defined feeling that he had seen him. but where? and he was serious because he could not answer. taking the leading strap, when joqard was brought, the hamari scrupled not to give the brute a hearty cuff, whereat the fishermen shook the sails of the pavilion with laughter; then, standing joqard up, he placed one of the huge paws on his arm, and, with the mincing step of a lady's page, they disappeared. chapter xiv the princess has a creed "i shall ask you, sergius, to return to the city to-night, for inquiry about the fete will be lively tomorrow in the holy houses. and if you have the disposition to defend me"-- "you doubt me, o princess?" "no." "o little mother, let me once for all be admitted to your confidence, that in talking to me there may never be a question of my loyalty." this, with what follows, was part of a conversation between the princess irene and sergius of occurrence the evening of the fete in the court heretofore described, being that to which she retired to read the letter of introduction brought her by the young monk from father hilarion. from an apartment adjoining, the voices of her attendants were occasionally heard blent with the monotonous tinkle of water overflowing the bowls of the fountain. in the shadowy depths of the opening above the court the stars might have been seen had not a number of lamps suspended from a silken cord stretched from wall to wall flooded the marble enclosure with their nearer light. there was a color, so to speak, in the declaration addressed to her--a warmth and earnestness--which drew a serious look from the princess--the look, in a word, with which a woman admits a fear lest the man speaking to her may be a lover. to say of her who habitually discouraged the tender passion, and the thought of it, that she moved in an atmosphere charged with attractions irresistible to the other sex sounds strangely: yet it was true; and as a consequence she had grown miraculously quick with respect to appearances. however, she now dismissed the suspicion, and replied: "i believe you, sergius, i believe you. the holy virgin sees how completely and gladly." she went on presently, a tremulous light in her eyes making him think of tears. "you call me little mother. there are some who might laugh, did they hear you, yet i agree to the term. it implies a relation of trust without embarrassment, and a promise of mutual faithfulness warranting me to call you in return, sergius, and sometimes 'dear sergius.' ... yes, i think it better that you go back immediately. the hegumen will want to speak to you in the morning about what you have seen and heard to-day. my boatmen can take you down, and arrived there, they will stay the night. my house is always open to them." after telling her how glad he was for the permission to address her in a style usual in his country, he moved to depart, but she detained him. "stay a moment. to-day i had not time to deal as i wished with the charges the hegumen prefers against me. you remember i promised to speak to you about them frankly, and i think it better to do so now; for with my confessions always present you cannot be surprised by misrepresentations, nor can doubt take hold of you so readily. you shall go hence possessed of every circumstance essential to judge how guilty i am." "they must do more than talk," the monk returned, with emphasis. "beware, sergius! do not provoke them into argument--or if you must talk, stop when you have set them to talking. the listener is he who can best be wise as a serpent.... and now, dear friend, lend me your good sense. thanks to the generosity of a kinsman, i am mistress of a residence in the city and this palace; and it is mine to choose between them. how healthful and charming life is with surroundings like these--here, the gardens; yonder, the verdurous hills; and there, before my door, a channel of the seas always borrowing from the sky, never deserted by men. guilt seeks exclusion, does it not? well, whether you come in the day or the night, my gate is open; nor have i a warder other than lysander; and his javelin is but a staff with which to steady his failing steps. there are no prohibitions shutting me in. christian, turk, gypsy--the world in fact--is welcome to see what all i have; and as to danger, i am defended better than with guards. i strive diligently to love my neighbors as i love myself, and they know it.... coming nearer the accusation now. i find here a freedom which not a religious house in the city can give me, nor one on the isles, not halki itself. here i am never disturbed by sectaries or partisans; the greek and the latin wrangle before the emperor and at the altars; but they spare me in this beloved retiracy. freedom! ah, yes, i find it in this retreat--this escape from temptations--freedom to work and sleep, and praise god as seems best to me--freedom to be myself in defiance of deplorable social customs--and there is no guilt in it.... coming still nearer the very charge, hear, o sergius, and i will tell you of the brass on my gate, and why i suffer it to stay there; since you, with your partialities, account it a witness against me, it is in likelihood the foundation of the calumny associating me with the turk. let me ask first, did the hegumen mention the name of one such associate?" "no." the princess with difficulty repressed her feelings. "bear with me a moment," she said; "you cannot know the self-mastery i require to thus defend myself. can i ever again be confident of my judgment? how doubts and fears will beset me when hereafter upon my own responsibility i choose a course, whatever the affair! ah, god, whom i have sought to make my reliance, seems so far away! it will be for him in the great day to declare if my purpose in living here be not escape from guiltiness in thought, from wrong and temptation, from taint to character. for further security, i keep myself surrounded with good women, and from the beginning took the public into confidence, giving it privileges, and inviting it to a study of my daily life. and this is the outcome! ... i will proceed now. the plate on the gate is a safeguard"-- "then mahommed has visited you?" the slightest discernible pallor overspread her face. "does it surprise you so much? ... this is the way it came about. you remember our stay at the white castle, and doubtless you remember the knight in armor who received us at the landing--a gallant, fair-speaking, chivalrous person whom we supposed the governor, and who prevailed upon us to become his guests while the storm endured. you recollect him?" "yes. he impressed me greatly." "well, let me now bring up an incident not in your knowledge. the eunuch in whose care i was placed for the time with lael, daughter of the prince of india, as my companion, to afford us agreeable diversion, obtained my consent to introduce an arab story-teller of great repute among the tribes of the desert and other eastern people. he gave us the name of the man--sheik aboo-obeidah. the sheik proved worthy his fame. so entertaining was he, in fact, i invited him here, and he came." "did i understand you to say the entertainment took place in lael's presence?" "she was my companion throughout." "let us be thankful, little mother." "ay, sergius, and that i have witnesses down to the last incident. you may have heard how the emperor and his court did me the high honor of a visit in state." "the visit was notorious." "well, while the royal company were at table, lysander appeared and announced aboo-obeidah, and, by permission of the emperor, the story-teller was admitted, and remained during the repast. now i come to the surprising event--aboo-obeidah was mahommed!" "prince mahommed--son of the terrible amurath?" exclaimed sergius. "how did you know him?" "by the brass plate. when he went to his boat, he stopped and nailed the plate to the pillar. i went to look at it, and not understanding the inscription, sent to town for a turk who enlightened me." "then the hamari was not gasconading?" "what did he say?" "he confirmed your turk." she gazed awhile at the overflowing of the fountain, giving a thought perhaps to the masquerader and his description of himself what time he was alone with her on the portico; presently she resumed: "one word more now, and i dismiss the brass plate.... i cannot blind myself, dear friend, to the condition of my kinsman's empire. it creeps in closer and closer to the walls of constantinople. presently there will be nothing of it left save the little the gates of the capital can keep. the peace we have is by the grace of an unbeliever too old for another great military enterprise; and when it breaks, then, o sergius, yon safeguard may be for others besides myself--for many others--farmers, fishermen and townspeople caught in the storm. say such anticipation followed you, sergius--what would you do with the plate?" "what would i do with it? o little mother, i too should take counsel of my fears." "you approve my keeping it where it is, then? thank you.... what remains for explanation? ah, yes--my heresy. that you shall dispose of yourself. remain here a moment." she arose, and passing through a doorway heavily draped with cloth, left him to the entertainment of the fountain. returning soon, she placed a roll of paper in his hand. "there," she said, "is the creed which your hegumen makes such a sin. it may be heresy; yet, god helping me, and christ and the holy mother lending their awful help, i dare die for it. take it, dear sergius. you will find it simple--nine words in all--and take this cover for it." he wrapped the parcel in the white silken cover she gave him, making mental comparison, nevertheless, with the old nicaean ordinances. "only nine words--o little mother!" "nine," she returned. "they should be of gold." "i leave them to speak for themselves." "shall i return the paper?" "no, it is a copy.... but it is time you were going. fortunately the night is pleasant and starlit; and if you are tired, the speeding of the boat will rest you. let me have an opinion of the creed at your leisure." they bade each other good-night. * * * * * about eight o'clock next morning sergius awoke. he had dropped on his cot undressed, and slept the sweet sleep of healthful youth; now, glancing about, he thought of the yesterday and the spacious garden, of the palace in the garden, of the princess irene, and of the conversation she held with him in the bright inner court. and the creed of nine words! he felt for it, and found it safe. then his thought flew to lael. she had exonerated herself. demedes was a liar--demedes, the presumptuous knave! he was to have been at the fete, but had not dared go. there was a limit to his audacity; and in great thankfulness for the discovery, sergius tossed an arm over the edge of the narrow cot, and struck the stool, his solitary item of furniture. he raised his head, and looked at the stool, wondering how it came there so close to his cot. what was that he saw? a fan?--and in his chamber? somebody had brought it in. he examined it cautiously. whose was it? whose could it be?--how!--no--but it _was_ the very fan he had seen lael toss to the hamari from the portico! and the hamari? a bit of folded paper on the settle attracted his attention. he snatched it up, opened, and read it, and while he read his brows knit, his eyes opened to their full. "patience--courage--judgment! "thou art better apprised of the meaning of the motto than thou wert yesterday. "thy seat in the academy is still reserved for thee. "thou mayst find the fan of the princess of india useful; with me it is embalmed in sentiment. "be wise. the hamari." he read the scrap twice, the second time slowly; then it fell rustling to the floor, while he clasped his hands and looked to heaven. a murmur was all he could accomplish. afterwards, prostrate on the cot, his face to the wall, he debated with himself, and concluded: "the greek is capable of any villany he sets about--of abduction and murder--and now indeed must lael beware!" chapter xv the prince of india preaches god to the greeks we will now take the liberty of reopening the audience chamber of the palace of blacherne, presuming the reader holds it in recollection. it is the day when, by special appointment, the prince of india appears before the emperor constantine to present his idea of a basis for universal religious union. the hour is exactly noon. a report of the prince's former audience with his majesty had awakened general curiosity to see the stranger and hear his discourse. this was particularly the feeling in spiritual circles; by which term the most influential makers of public opinion are meant. a sharp though decorous rivalry for invitations to be present on the occasion ensued. the emperor, in robes varied but little from those he wore the day of the prince's first audience, occupied the throne on the dais. on both sides of him the company sat in a semicircular arrangement which left them all facing the door of the main entrance, and permitted the placement of a table in a central position under every eye. the appearance of the assemblage would have disappointed the reader; for while the court was numerously represented, with every functionary in his utmost splendor of decoration, it was outnumbered by the brethren of the holy orders, whose gowns, for the most part of gray and black material unrelieved by gayety in color, imparted a sombreness to the scene which the ample light of the chamber could not entirely dissipate, assisted though it was by refractions in plenitude from heads bald and heads merely tonsured. it should be observed now that besides a very striking exterior, the emperor fancied he discerned in the prince of india an idea enriched by an extraordinary experience. at loss to make him out, impressed, not unpleasantly, with the mystery the stranger had managed, as usual, to leave behind him, his majesty had looked forward to this second appearance with interest, and turned it over with a view to squeezing out all of profit there might be in it. why not, he asked himself, make use of the opportunity to bring the chiefs of the religious factions once more together? the explosive tendency which it seemed impossible for them to leave in their cells with their old dalmatics had made it politic to keep them apart widely and often as circumstances would permit; here, however, he thought the danger might be averted, since they would attend as auditors from whom speech or even the asking a question would be out of order unless by permission. the imperial presence, it was also judged, would restrain the boldest of them from resolving himself into a disputant. the arrangement of the chamber for the audience had been a knotty problem to our venerable acquaintance, the dean; but at last he submitted his plan, giving every invitee a place by ticket; the emperor, however, blotted it out mercilessly. "ah, my old friend," he said, with a smile which assuaged the pang of disapproval, "you have loaded yourself with unnecessary trouble. there was never a mass performed with stricter observance of propriety than we will now have. fix the chairs thus"--and with a finger-sweep he described a semicircle--"here the table for the prince. having notified me of his intention to read from some ancient books, he must have a table--and let there be no reserved seat, except one for the patriarch. set a sedilium, high and well clothed, for him here on my right--and forget not a stool for his feet; for now to the bitterness of controversy long continued he has added a constriction of the lungs, and together they are grievous to old age." "and scholarius?" "scholarius is an orator; some say he is a prophet; i know he is not an official; so of the seats vacant when he arrives, let him choose for himself." the company began coming early. every churchman of prominence in the city was in attendance. the reception was unusually ceremonious. when the bustle was over, and his majesty at ease, the pages having arranged the folds of his embroidered vestments, he rested his hand lightly on the golden cone of the right arm of the throne, and surveyed the audience with a quiet assurance becoming his birth in the purple, looking first to the patriarch, and bowing to him, and receiving a salute in return. to the others on the right he glanced next, with a gracious bend of the head, and then to those on the left. in. the latter quarter he recognized scholarius, and covertly smiled; if gregory had taken seat on the left, scholarius would certainly have crossed to the right. there was no such thing as compromise in his intolerant nature. one further look the emperor gave to where, near the door, a group of women was standing, in attendance evidently upon the princess irene, who was the only one of them seated. their heads were covered by veils which had the appearance of finely woven silver. this jealous precaution, of course, cut off recognition; nevertheless such of the audience as had the temerity to cast their eyes at the fair array were consoled by a view of jewelled hands, bare arms inimitably round and graceful, and figures in drapery of delicate colors, and of designs to tempt the imagination without offence to modesty--a respect in which the greek costume has never been excelled. the emperor recognized the princess, and slightly inclined his head to her. he then spoke to the dean: "wait on the prince of india, and if he is prepared, accompany him hither." passing out a side door, the master of ceremonies presently reappeared with nilo in guidance. the black giant was as usual barbarously magnificent in attire; and staring at him, the company did not observe the burden he brought in, and laid on the table. he retired immediately; then they looked, and saw a heap of books and mss. in rolls left behind him--quaint, curious volumes, so to speak, yellow with age and exposure, and suggestive of strange countries, and a wisdom new, if not of more than golden worth. and they continued to gaze and wonder at them, giving warrant to the intelligent forethought of the prince of india which sent nilo in advance of his own entry. again the door was thrown open, and this time the dean ushered the prince into the chamber, and conducted him toward the dais. thrice the foreigner prostrated himself; the last time within easy speaking distance of his majesty, who silently agreed with the observant lookers-on, that he had never seen the salutations better executed. "rise, prince of india," the emperor said, blandly, and well pleased. the prince arose, and stood before him, his eyes downcast, his hands upon his breast--suppliancy in excellent pantomime. "be not surprised, prince of india, at the assemblage you behold." thus his majesty proceeded. "its presence is due, i declare to you, not so much to design of mine as to the report the city has had of your former audience, and the theme of which you then promised to discourse." without apparently noticing the low reverence in acknowledgment of the compliment, he addressed himself to the body of listeners. "i regard it courtesy to our noble indian guest to advise you, my lords of the court, and you, devotees of christ and the father, whose prayers are now the chief stay of my empire, that he is present by my appointment. on a previous occasion, he interested us--i speak of many of my very honorable assistants in government--he interested us, i say, with an account of his resignation of the kingship in his country, moved by a desire to surrender himself exclusively to study of religion. under my urgency, he bravely declared he was neither jew, moslem, hindoo, buddhist nor christian; that his travels and investigation had led him to a faith which he summed up by pronouncing the most holy name of god; giving us to understand he meant the god to whom our hearts have long been delivered. he also referred to the denominations into which believers are divided, and said his one motive in life was the bringing them together in united brotherhood; and as i cannot imagine a result more desirable, provided its basis obtain the sanction of our conscience, i will now ask him to proceed, if it be his pleasure, and speak to us freely." again the visitor prostrated himself in his best oriental manner; after which, moving backward, he went to the table and took a few minutes arranging the books and rolls. the spectators availed themselves of the opportunity to gratify their curiosity well as they could from mere inspection of the man; and as the liberty was within his anticipations, it gave him but slight concern. we about know how he appeared to them. we remember his figure, low, slightly stooped, and deficiently slender;--we remember the thin yet healthful looking face, even rosy of cheek;--we can see him in his pointed red slippers, his ample trousers of glossy white satin, his long black gown, relieved at the collar and cuffs with fine laces, his hair fallen on his shoulders, beard overflowing his breast;--we can even see the fingers, transparent, singularly flexible in operation, turning leaves, running down pages and smoothing them out, and placing this roll or that book as convenience required, all so lithe, swift, certain, they in a manner exposed the mind which controlled them. at length, the preliminaries finished, the prince raised his eyes, and turned them slowly about--those large, deep, searching eyes--wells from which, without discoverable effort, he drew magnetism at his pleasure. he began simply, his voice distinct, and cast to make itself heard, and not more. "this"--his second finger was on a page of the large volume heretofore described--"this is the bible, the most holy of bibles. i call it the rock on which your faith and mine are castled." there was a stretching of necks to see, and he did not allow the sensation to pass. "and more--it is one of the fifty copies of the bible translated by order of the first constantine, under supervision of his minister eusebius, well known to you for piety and learning." it seemed at first every churchman was on his feet, but directly the emperor observed scholarius and the patriarch seated, the latter diligently crossing himself. the excitement can be readily comprehended by considering the assemblage and its composition of zealots and relic-worshippers, and that, while the tradition respecting the fifty copies was familiar, not a man there could have truly declared he had ever seen one of them--so had they disappeared from the earth. "these are bibles, also," the speaker resumed, upon the restoration of order--"bibles sacred to those unto whom they were given as that imperishable monument to moses and david is to us; for they too are revelations from god--ay, the very same god! this is the _koran_--and these, the _kings_ of the chinese--and these, the _avesta_ of the magians of persia--and these, the _sutras_ well preserved of buddha--and these, the _vedas_ of the patient hindoos, my countrymen." he carefully designated each book and roll by placing his finger on it. "i thank your majesty for the gracious words of introduction you were pleased to give me. they set before my noble and most reverend auditors my history and the subject of my discourse; leaving me, without wrong to their understanding, or waste of time or words, to invite them to think of the years it took to fit myself to read these books--for so i will term them--years spent among the peoples to whom they are divine. and when that thought is in mind, stored there past loss, they will understand what i mean by religion, and the methods i adopted and pursued for its study. then also the value of the assertions i make can be intelligently weighed.... this first--have not all men hands and eyes? we may not be able to read the future in our palms; but there is no excuse for us if we do not at least see god in them. similarity is law, and the law of nature is the will of god. keep the argument with you, o my lord, for it is the earliest lesson i had from my travels.... animals when called to, the caller being on a height over them, never look for him above the level of their eyes; even so some men are incapable of thinking of the mysteries hidden out of sight in the sky; but it is not so with all; and therein behold the partiality of god. the reason of the difference between the leaves of trees not of the same species, is the reason of the inequality of genius among races of men. the infinite prefers variety because he is more certainly to be perceived in it. at this stop now, my lord, mark the second lesson of my travels. god, wishing above all things to manifest himself and his character to all humanity, made choice amongst the races, selecting those superior in genius, and intrusted them with special revelations; whence we have the two kinds of religion, natural and revealed. seeing god in a stone, and worshipping it, is natural religion; the consciousness of god in the heart, an excitant of love and gratitude inexpressible except by prayer and hymns of praise--that, o my lord, is the work and the proof of revealed religion.... i next submit the third of the lessons i have had; but, if i may have your attention to the distinction, it is remarkable as derived from my reading"--here he covered all the books on the table with a comprehensive gesture--"my reading more than my travels; and i call it the purest wisdom because it is not sentiment, at the same time that it is without so much as a strain of philosophy, being a fact clear as any fact deducible from history--yes, my lord, clearer, more distinct, more positive, most undeniable--an incident of the love the universal maker has borne his noblest creatures from their first morning--a godly incident which i have had from the study of these bibles in comparison with each other. in brief, my lord, a revelation not intended for me above the generality of men; nevertheless a revelation to me, since i went seeking it--or shall i call it a recompense for the crown and throne i voluntarily gave away?" the feeling the prince threw into these words took hold of his auditors. not a few of them were struck with awe, somewhat as if he were a saint or prophet, or a missionary from the dead returned with secrets theretofore locked up fast in the grave. they waited for his next saying--his third lesson, as he termed it--with anxiety. "the holy father of light and life," the speaker went on, after a pause referable to his consummate knowledge of men, "has sent his spirit down to the world, not once merely, or unto one people, but repeatedly, in ages sometimes near together, sometimes wide apart, and to races diverse, yet in every instance remarkable for genius." there was a murmur at this, but he gave it no time. "ask you now how i could identify the spirit so as to be able to declare to you solemnly, as i do in fear of god, that in the several repeated appearances of which i speak it was the very same spirit? how do you know the man you met at set of sun yesterday was the man you saluted and had salute from this morning? well, i tell you the father has given the spirit features by which it may be known--features distinct as those of the neighbors nearest you there at your right and left hands. wherever in my reading holy books, like these, i hear of a man, himself a shining example of righteousness, teaching god and the way to god, by those signs i say to my soul: 'oh, the spirit, the spirit! blessed is the man appointed to carry it about!'" again the murmur, but again he passed on. "the spirit dwelt in the holy of holies set apart for it in the tabernacle; yet no man ever saw it there, a thing of sight. the soul is not to be seen; still less is the spirit of the most high; or if one did see it, its brightness would kill him. in great mercy, therefore, it has always come and done its good works in the world veiled; now in one form, now in another; at one time, a voice in the air; at another, a vision in sleep; at another, a burning bush; at another, an angel; at another, a descending dove"-- "bethabara!" shouted a cowled brother, tossing both hands up. "be quiet!" the patriarch ordered. "thus always when its errand was of quick despatch," the prince continued. "but if its coming were for residence on earth, then its habit has been to adopt a man for its outward form, and enter into him, and speak by him; such was moses, such elijah, such were all the prophets, and such"--he paused, then exclaimed shrilly--"such was jesus christ!" in his study at home, the prince had undoubtedly thought out his present delivery with the care due an occasion likely to be a turning-point in his projects, if not his life; and it must at that time have required of him a supreme effort of will to resolve upon this climax; as it was, he hesitated, and turned the hue of ashes; none the less his unknowing auditors renewed their plaudits. even the emperor nodded approvingly. none of them divined the cunning of the speaker; not one thought he was pledging himself by his applause to a kindly hearing of the next point in the speech. "now, my lord, he who lives in a close vale shut in by great mountains, and goes not thence so much as to the top of one of the mountains, to him the vastness and beauty of the world beyond his pent sky-line shall be secret in his old age as they were when he was a child. he has denied himself to them. like him is the man who, thinking to know god, spends his days reading one holy book. i care not if it be this one"--he laid his finger on the _avesta_--"or this one"--in the same manner he signified the _vedas_--"or this one"--touching the _koran_--"or this one"--laying his whole hand tenderly palm down on the most holy bible. "he shall know god--yes, my lord, but not all god has done for men.... i have been to the mountain's top; that is to say, i know these books, o reverend brethren, as you know the beads of your rosaries and what each bead stands for. they did not teach me all there is in the infinite--i am in too much awe for such a folly of the tongue--yet through them i know his spirit has dwelt on earth in men of different races and times; and whether the spirit was the same spirit, i fear not leaving you to judge. if we find in those bearing it about likenesses in ideas, aims, and methods--a supreme god and an evil one, a heaven and a hell, sin and a way to salvation, a soul immortal whether lost or saved--what are we to think? if then, besides these likenesses, we find the other signs of divine authority, acknowledged such from the beginning of the world--mysteries of birth, sinlessness, sacrifices, miracles done--which of you will rise in his place, and rebuke me for saying there were sons of god in spirit before the spirit descended upon jesus christ? nevertheless, that is what i say." here the prince bent over the table pretending to be in search of a page in the most holy book, while--if the expression be pardonable--he watched the audience with his ears. he heard the rustle as the men turned to each other in mute inquiry; he almost heard their question, though they but looked it; otherwise, if it had been dark, the silence would have been tomb-like. at length, raising his head, he beheld a tall, gaunt, sallow person, clad in a monkish gown of the coarsest gray wool, standing and looking at him; the eyes seemed two lights burning in darkened depths; the air was haughty and menacing; and altogether he could not avoid noticing the man. he waited, but the stranger silently kept his feet. "your majesty," the prince began again, perfectly composed, "these are but secondary matters; yet there is such light in them with respect to my main argument, that i think best to make them good by proofs, lest my reverend brethren dismiss me as an idler in words.... behold the bible of the bodhisattwa"--he held up a roll of broad-leafed vellum, and turned it dextrously for better exhibition--"and hear, while i read from it, of a birth, life and death which took place a thousand and twenty-seven years before jesus christ was born." and he read: "'strong and calm of purpose as the earth, pure in mind as the water-lily, her name figuratively assumed, maya, she was in truth above comparison. on her in likeness as the heavenly queen the spirit descended. a mother, but free from grief or pain, she was without deceit.'" the prince stopped reading to ask: "will not my lord see in these words a mary also 'blessed above other women'?" then he read on: ..."'and now the queen maya knew her time for the birth had come. it was the eighth day of the fourth moon, a serene and agreeable season. while she thus religiously observed the rules of a pure discipline, bodhisattwa was born from her right side, come to deliver the world, constrained by great pity, without causing his mother pain or anguish.'" again the prince lifted his eyes from the roll. "what is this, my lord, but an incarnation? hear now of the child: ... 'as one born from recumbent space, and not through the gates of life, men indeed regarded his exceeding great glory, yet their sight remained uninjured; he allowed them to gaze, the brightness of his person concealed for a time, as when we look upon the moon in heaven. his body nevertheless was effulgent with light, and, like the sun which eclipses the shining of the lamp, so the true gold-like beauty of bodhisattwa shone forth and was everywhere diffused. upright and firm, and unconfused in mind, he deliberately took seven steps, the soles of his feet resting evenly upon the ground as he went, his footmarks remained bright as seven stars. moving like the lion, king of beasts, and looking earnestly toward the four quarters, penetrating to the centre the principles of truth, he spoke thus with the fullest assurance: this birth is in the condition of buddha; after this i have done with renewed birth; _now only am i born this once, for the purpose of saving all the world._'" a third time the prince stopped, and, throwing up his hand to command attention, he asked: "my lord, who will say this was not also a redeemer? see now what next ensued"--and he read on: "'and now from the midst of heaven there descended two streams of pure water, one warm, the other cold, and baptized his head.'" pausing again, the speaker searched the faces of his auditors on the right and left, while he exclaimed in magnetic repetition: "baptism--_baptism_--baptism and miracle!" constantine sat, like the rest, his attention fixed; but the gray-clad monk still standing grimly raised a crucifix before him as if taking refuge behind it. "my lord is seeing the likenesses these things bear to the conception, birth and mission of jesus christ, the later blessed one, who is nevertheless his first in love. he is comparing the incidents of the two incarnations of the spirit or holy ghost; he is asking himself: 'can there have been several sons of god?' and he is replying: 'that were indeed merciful--blessed be god!'" the emperor made no sign one way or the other. "suffer me to help my lord yet a little more," the prince continued, apparently unobservant of the lowering face behind the crucifix. "he remembers angels came down the night of the nativity in the cave by bethlehem; he cannot forget the song they sung to the shepherds. how like these honors to the bodhisattwa!"--and he read from the roll: ... "'meanwhile the devas'--angels, if my lord pleases--'the devas in space, seizing their jewelled canopies, attending, raise in responsive harmony their heavenly songs to encourage him.' nor was this all, my lord," and he continued reading: "'on every hand the world was greatly shaken.... the minutest atoms of sandal perfume, and the hidden sweetness of precious lilies, floated on the air, and rose through space, and then commingling came back to earth.... all cruel and malevolent kinds of beings together conceived a loving heart; all diseases and afflictions amongst men, without a cure applied, of themselves were healed; the cries of beasts were hushed; the stagnant waters of the river courses flowed apace; no clouds gathered on the heavens, while angelic music, self-caused, was heard around.... so when bodhisattwa was born, he came to remove the sorrows of all living things. mara alone was grieved.' o my reverend brethren!" cried the prince, fervently, "who was this mara that he should not share in the rejoicing of all nature else? in christian phrase, satan, and mara alone was grieved." "do the likenesses stop with the births, my brethren are now asking. let us follow the bodhisattwa. on reaching the stage of manhood, he also retired into the wilderness. 'the valley of the se-na was level and full of fruit trees, with no noxious insects,' say these scriptures: 'and there he dwelt under a sala tree. and he fasted nigh to death. the devas offered him sweet dew, but he rejected it, and took but a grain of millet a day.' now what think you of this as a parallel incident of his sojourn in the wilderness?" and he read: ... "'mara devaraga, enemy of religion, alone was grieved, and rejoiced not. he had three daughters, mincingly beautiful, and of a pleasant countenance. with them, and all his retinue, he went to the grove of "fortunate rest," vowing the world should not find peace, and there'"--the prince forsook the roll--"'and there he tempted bodhisattwa, and menaced him, a legion of devils assisting.' the daughters, it is related, were changed to old women, and of the battle this is written: ... 'and now the demon host waxed fiercer, and added force to force, grasping at stones they could not lift, or lifting them they could not let them go; their flying spears stuck fast in space refusing to descend; the angry thunder-drops and mighty hail, with them, were changed into five-colored lotus flowers; while the foul poison of the dragon snakes was turned into spicy-breathing air'--and mara fled, say the scriptures, fled gnashing his teeth, while bodhisattwa reposed peacefully under a fall of heavenly flowers." the prince, looking about him after this, said calmly: "now judge i by myself; not a heart here but hears in the intervals of its beating, the text: 'then was jesus led up by the spirit into the wilderness to be tempted of the devil'--and that other text: 'then the devil leaveth him, and behold, angels came and ministered unto him.' verily, my lord, was not the spirit the same spirit, and did it not in both incarnations take care of its own?" thereupon the prince again sought for a page on the roll, watching the while with his ears, and the audience drew long breaths, and rested from their rigor of attention. then also the emperor spoke to the prince. "i pray you, prince of india, take a little rest. your labor is of the kind exhaustive to mind and body: and in thought of it, i ordered refreshments for you and these, my other guests. is not this a good time to renew thyself?" the prince, rising from a low reverence, replied: "indeed your majesty has the kingly heart; but i pray you, in return, hear me until i have brought the parallel, my present point of argument, to an end; then i will most gladly avail myself of your great courtesy; after which--your patience, and the goodwill of these reverend fathers, holding on--i will resume and speedily finish my discourse." "as you will. we are most interested. or"--and the emperor, glancing over toward the monk on his feet, said coldly: "or, if my declaration does not fairly vouch the feeling of all present, those objecting have permission to retire upon the adjournment. we will hear you, prince." the ascetic answered by lifting his crucifix higher. then, having found the page he wanted, the prince, holding his finger upon it, proceeded: "it would not become me, my lord, to assume an appearance of teaching you and this audience, most learned in the gospels, concerning them, especially the things said by the blessed one of the later incarnation, whom we call the christ. we all know the spirit for which he was both habitation and tongue, came down to save the world from sin and hell; we also know what he required for the salvation. so, even so, did bodhisattwa. listen to him now--he is talking to his disciples: ... 'i will teach you,' he said, to the faithful ananda, 'a way of truth, called the mirror of truth, which, if an elect disciple possess, he may himself predict of himself, "hell is destroyed for me, and rebirth as an animal, or a ghost, or any place of woe. i am converted. i am no longer liable to be reborn in a state of suffering, and am assured of final salvation."'... ah, your majesty is asking, will the parallel never end? not yet, not yet! for the bodhisattwa did miracles as well. i read again: ... 'and the blessed one came once to the river ganges, and found it overflowing. those with him, designing to cross, began to seek for boats, some for rafts of wood, while some made rafts of basket-work. then the blessed one, as instantaneously as a strong man would stretch forth his arm and draw it back again when he had stretched it forth, vanished from this side of the river, and stood on the further bank with the company of his brethren.'" the stir the quotation gave rise to being quieted, the prince, quitting the roll, said: "like that, my lord, was the bodhisattwa's habit on entering assemblies of men, to become of their color--he, you remember, was from birth of the color of gold just flashed in the crucible--and in a voice like theirs instructing them. then, say the scriptures, they, not knowing him, would ask, who may this be that speaks? a man or a god? then he would vanish away. like that again was his purifying the water which had been stirred up by the wheels of five hundred carts passing through it. he was thirsty, and at his bidding his companion filled a cup, and lo! the water was clear and delightful. still more decided, when he was dying there was a mighty earthquake, and the thunders of heaven broke forth, and the spirits stood about to see him until there was no spot, say the scriptures, in size even as the pricking of the point of the tip of a hair not pervaded with them; and he saw them, though they were invisible to his disciples; and then when the last reverence of his five hundred brethren was paid at his feet, the pyre being ready, it took fire of itself, and there was left of his body neither soot nor ashes--only the bones for relics. then, again, as the pyre had kindled itself, so when the body was burned up streams of water descended from the skies, and other streams burst from the earth, and extinguished the fire. finally, my lord, the parallel ends in the modes of death. bodhisattwa chose the time and place for himself, and the circumstances of his going were in harmony with his heavenly character. death was never arrayed in such beauty. the twin sala trees, one at the head of his couch, the other at the foot, though out of season, sprinkled him with their flowers, and the sky rained powder of sandal-wood, and trembled softly with the incessant music and singing of the floating gandharvis. but he whose soul was the spirit, last incarnate, the christ"--the prince stopped--the blood forsook his face--he took hold of the table to keep from falling--and the audience arose in alarm. "look to the prince!" the emperor commanded. those nearest the ailing man offered him their arms, but with a mighty effort he spoke to them naturally: "thank you, good friends--it is nothing." then he said louder: "it is nothing, my lord--it is gone now. i was about to say of the christ, how different was his dying, and with that ends the parallel between him and the bodhisattwa as sons of god.... now, if it please your majesty, i will not longer detain your guests from the refreshments awaiting them." a chair was brought for him; and when he was seated, a long line of servants in livery appeared with the collation. in a short time the prince was himself again. the mention of the saviour, in connection with his death, had suddenly projected the scene of the crucifixion before him, and the sight of the cross and the sufferer upon it had for the moment overcome him. chapter xvi how the new faith was received it had been better for the prince of india if he had not consented to the intermission graciously suggested by the emperor. the monk with the hollow eyes who had arisen and posed behind his crucifix, like an exorcist, was no other than george scholarius, whom, for the sake of historical conformity, we shall from this call gennadius; and far from availing himself of his majesty's permission to retire, that person was observed to pass industriously from chair to chair circulating some kind of notice. of the refreshments he would none; his words were few, his manner earnest; and to him, beyond question, it was due that when order was again called, the pleasure the prince drew from seeing every seat occupied was dashed by the scowling looks which met him from all sides. the divining faculty, peculiarly sharpened in him, apprised him instantly of an influence unfriendly to his project--a circumstance the more remarkable since he had not as yet actually stated any project. upon taking the floor, the prince placed the large judean bible before him opened, and around it his other references, impressing the audience with an idea that in his own view the latter were of secondary importance. "my lord, and reverend sirs," he began, with a low salutation to the emperor, "the fulness of the parallel i have run between the bodhisattwa, son of maya, and jesus christ, son of mary, may lead to a supposition that they were the only blessed ones who have appeared in the world honored above men because they were chosen for the incarnation of the spirit. in these scriptures," unrolling the _sutra_ or _book of the great decease_--"frequent statements imply a number of tathagatas or buddhas of irregular coming. in this"--putting a finger on a chinese _king_--"time is divided into periods termed _kalpas_, and in one place it is said ninety-eight buddhas illuminated one kalpa [footnote: eakin's chinese buddhism, .]--that is, came and taught as saviours. nor shall any man deny the spirit manifest in each of them was the same spirit. they preached the same holy doctrine, pointed out the same road to salvation, lived the same pure unworldly lives, and all alike made a declaration of which i shall presently speak; in other words, my lord, the features of the spirit were the same in all of them.... here in these rolls, parts of the sacred books of the east, we read of shun. i cannot fix his days, they were so long ago. indeed, i only know he must have been an adopted of the spirit by his leaving behind him the tao, or law, still observed among the chinese as their standard of virtue.... here also is the _avesta_, most revered remains of the magi, from whom, as many suppose, the wise men who came up to jerusalem witnesses of the birth of the new king of the jews were sent." this too he identified with his finger. "its teacher is zarathustra, and, in my faith, the spirit descended upon him and abode with him while he was on the earth. the features all showed themselves in him--in his life, his instruction, and in the honors paid him through succeeding generations. his religion yet lives, though founded hundreds of years before your gentle nazarene walked the waters of galilee.... and here, o my lord, is a book abhorred by christians"--he laid his whole hand on the koran--"how shall it be judged? by the indifferent manner too many of those ready to die defending its divine origin observe it? alas! what religion shall survive that test? in the visions of mahomet i read of god, moses, the patriarchs--nay, my lord, i read of him called the christ. shall we not beware lest in condemning mahomet we divest this other bible"--he reverently touched the great eusebian volume--"of some of its superior holiness? he calls himself a prophet. can a man prophesy except he have in him the light of the spirit?" the question awoke the assemblage. a general signing of the cross was indulged in by the fathers, and there was groaning hard to distinguish from growls. gennadius kept his seat, nervously playing with his rosary. the countenance of the patriarch was unusually grave. in all his experience it is doubtful if the prince ever touched a subject requiring more address than this dealing with the koran. he resumed without embarrassment: "now, my lord, i shall advance a step nearer my real subject. think not, i pray, that the things i have spoken of the bodhisattwa, of shun, of zarathustra, of mahomet, likening them in their entertainment of the spirit to jesus, was to excite comparisons; such as which was the holiest, which did the most godly things, which is most worthy to be accounted the best beloved of the father; for i come to bury all strife of the kind.... i said i had been to the mountain's top; and now, my lord, did you demand of me to single out and name the greatest of the wonders i thence beheld, i should answer: neither on the sea, nor on the land, nor in the sky is there a wonder like unto the perversity which impels men to invent and go on inventing religions and sects, and then persecute each other on account of them. and when i prayed to be shown the reason of it, i thought i heard a voice, 'open thine eyes--see!' ... and the first thing given me to see was that the blessed ones who went about speaking for the spirit which possessed them were divine; yet they walked the earth, not as gods, but witnesses of god; asking hearing and belief, not worship; begging men to come unto them as guides sent to show them the only certain way to everlasting life in glory--only that and nothing more.... the next thing i saw, a bright light in a white glass set on a dark hill, was the waste of worship men are guilty of in bestowing it on inferior and often unworthy objects. when jesus prayed, it was to our father in heaven, was it not?--meaning not to himself, or anything human, or anything less than human.... one other thing i was permitted to see; and the reserving it last is because it lies nearest the proposal i have come a great distance to submit to my lord and these most reverend brethren in holiness. every place i have been in which men are not left to their own imaginings of life and religion--in every land and island touched by revelation--a supreme god is recognized, the same in qualities--creator, protector, father--infinite in power, infinite in love--the indivisible one! asked you never, my lord, the object he had in intrusting his revelation to us, and why the blessed ones, his sons in the spirit, were bid come here and go yonder by stony paths? let me answer with what force is left me. there is in such permissions but one intention which a respectful mind can assign to a being great and good as god--one altar, one worship, one prayer, and he the soul of them. with a flash of his beneficent thought he saw in one religion peace amongst men. strange--most strange! in human history no other such marvel! there has been nothing so fruitful of bickering, hate, murder and war. such is the seeming, and so i thought, my lord, until on the mountain's highest peak, whence all concerns lie in view below, i opened my eyes and perceived the wrestling of tongues and fighting were not about god, but about forms, and immaterialities, more especially the blessed ones to whom he had intrusted his spirit. from the ceylonesian: 'who is worthy praise but buddha?' 'no,' the islamite answers: 'who but mahomet?' and from the parsee; 'no--who but zarathustra?' 'have done with your vanities,' the christian thunders: 'who has told the truth like jesus?' then the flame of swords, and the cruelty of blows--all in god's name!" this was bold speaking. "and now, my lord," the prince went on, his appearance of exceeding calmness belied only by the exceeding brightness of his eyes, "god wills an end to controversy and wars blasphemously waged in his name, and i am sent to tell you of it; and for that the spirit is in me." here gennadius again arose, crucifix in hand. "i am returned from visiting many of the nations," the prince continued, nothing daunted. "they demanded of me a faith broad enough for them to stand upon while holding fast the lesser ideas grown up in their consciences; and, on my giving them such a faith, they said they were ready to do the will, but raised a new condition. some one must move first. 'go find that one,' they bade me, 'and we will follow after.' in saying now i am ambassador appointed to bring the affair to your majesty and your majesty's people, enlightened enough to see the will of the supreme master, and of a courage to lead in the movement, with influence and credit to carry it peacefully forward to a glorious end, i well know how idle recommendation and entreaty are except i satisfy you in the beginning that they have the sanction of heaven; and thereto now.... i take no honor to myself as author of the faith presented in answer to the demand of the nations. in old cities there are houses under houses, along streets underlying streets, and to find them, the long buried, men dig deep and laboriously; that did i, until in these old testaments"--he cast a loving glance at all the sacred books--"i made a precious discovery. i pray your majesty's patience while i read from them.... this from the judean bible: 'and god said unto moses, i am that i am: and he said, this shalt thou say unto the children of israel, i am hath sent me unto you.' thus did god, of whom we have no doubt, name himself to one chosen race.... next from a holy man of china who lived nearly five hundred years before the christ was born: 'although any one be a bad man, if he fasts and is collected, he may indeed offer sacrifices unto god.' [footnote: faber's _mind of mencius_]... and from the _avesta_, this of the creed of the magi: 'the world is twofold, being the work of ahura mazda and angra mainyu: all that is good in the world comes from the first principle (which is god) and all that is bad from the latter (which is satan). angra mainyu invaded the world after it was made by ahura mazda and polluted it, but the conflict will some day end.' [footnote: sir william jones.] the first principle here is god. but most marvellous, because of the comparison it will excite, hearken to this from the same magian creed: 'when the time is full, a son of the lawgiver still unborn, named saoshyant, will appear; then angra mainyu (satan) and hell will be destroyed, men will arise from the dead, and everlasting happiness reign over the world.' here again the lawgiver is god; but the son--who is he? has he come? is he gone? ... next, take these several things from the _vedas_: 'by one supreme ruler is the universe pervaded, even every world in the whole circle of nature. there is one supreme spirit which nothing can shake, more swift than the thought of man. the primeval mover even divine intelligence cannot reach; that spirit, though unmoved, infinitely transcends others, how rapid soever their course; it is distant from us, yet very near; it pervades the whole system of worlds, yet is infinitely beyond it.' [footnote: _ibid._ vol. xiii.] now, my lord, and very reverend sirs, do not the words quoted come to us clean of mystery? or have you the shadow of a doubt whom they mean, accept and consider the prayer i read you now from the same _vedas:_ 'o thou who givest sustenance to the world, thou sole mover of all, thou who restrainest sinners, who pervadest yon great luminary which appearest as the son of the creator; hide thy struggling beams and expand thy spiritual brightness that i may view thy most auspicious, most glorious, real form. om, remember me, divine spirit! om, remember my deeds! let my soul return to the immortal spirit of god, and then let my body, which ends in ashes, return to dust.' who is om? or is my lord yet uncertain, let him heed this from the _holiest verse of the vedas_: 'without hand or foot, he runs rapidly, and grasps firmly; without eyes, he sees; without ears, he hears all; he knows whatever can be known, but there is none who knows him: him the wise call the great, supreme, pervading spirit.' [footnote: sir william jones. vol. xiii.] ... now once more, o my lord, and i am done with citation and argument. ananda asked the bodhisattwa what was the mirror of truth, and he had this answer: 'it is the consciousness that the elect disciple is in this world possessed of faith in buddha, believing the blessed one to be the holy one, the fully enlightened one, wise, upright, happy, world-knowing, supreme, the bridler of men's wayward hearts, the teacher of gods and men--the blessed buddha.' [footnote: rehys david's _buddhist sutras_.] oh, good my lord, a child with intellect barely to name the mother who bore him, should see and say, here god is described!" ... the prince came to a full stop, and taking a fine silken cloth from a pocket in his gown, he carefully wiped the open pages of the eusebian bible, and shut it. of the other books he made a separate heap, first dusting each of them. the assemblage watched him expectantly. the fathers had been treated to strange ideas, matter for thought through many days and nights ahead; still each of them felt the application was wanting. "the purpose--give it us--and quickly!" would have been a fair expression of their impatience. at length he proceeded: "dealing with children, my lord, and reverend sirs," he began, "it is needful to stop frequently, and repeat the things we have said; but you are men trained in argument: wherefore, with respect to the faith asked of me as i have told you by the nations, i say simply it is god; and touching his sanction of it, you may wrest these testaments from me and make ashes of them, but you shall not now deny his approval of the faith i bring you. it is not in the divine nature for god to abjure himself. who of you can conceive him shrunk to so small a measure?" the dogmatic vehemence amazed the listeners. "whether this idea of god is broad enough to accommodate all the religions grown up on the earth, i will not argue; for i desire to be most respectful"--thus the speaker went on in his natural manner. "but should you accept it as enough, you need not be at loss for a form in which to put it. 'master,' the lawyer asked, 'which is the great commandment in the law?' and the master answered: 'thou shalt love the lord thy god with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind;' and he added: 'this is the first and great commandment.' my lord, no man else ever invented, nor shall any man ever invent an expression more perfectly definitive of the highest human duty--the total of doctrine. i will not tell you who the master uttering it was; neither will i urge its adoption; only if the world were to adopt it, and abide by it, there would be an end to wars and rumors of war, and god would have his own. if the church here in your ancient capital were first to accept it, what happiness i should have carrying the glad tidings to the peoples"-- the prince was not allowed to finish the sentence. "what do i understand, o prince, by the term 'total of doctrine'?" it was the patriarch speaking. "belief in god." in a moment the assemblage became uproarious, astounding the emperor; and in the midst of the excitement, gennadius was seen on tip-toe, waving his crucifix with the energy of command. "question--a question!" he cried. quiet was presently given him. "in thy total of doctrine, what is jesus christ?" the voice of the patriarch, enfeebled by age and disease, had been scarcely heard; his rival's penetrated to the most distant corner; and the question happening to be the very thought pervading the assemblage, the churchmen, the courtiers, and most of the high officials arose to hear the reply. in a tone distinct as his interlocutor's, but wholly without passion, the master actor returned: "a son of god." "and mahomet, the father of islam--what is he?" if the ascetic had put the name of siddartha, the bodhisattwa, in his second question, his probing had not been so deep, nor the effect so quick and great; but mahomet, the camel-driver! centuries of feud, hate, crimination, and wars--rapine, battles, sieges, massacres, humiliations, lopping of territory, treaties broken, desecration of churches, spoliation of altars, were evoked by the name mahomet. we have seen it a peculiarity of the prince of india never to forget a relation once formed by him. now behind constantine he beheld young mahommed waiting for him--mahommed and revenge. if his scheme were rejected by the greeks, very well--going to the turks would be the old exchange with which he was familiar, cross for crescent. to be sure there was little time to think this; nor did he think it--it appeared and went a glare of light--and he answered: "he will remain, in the spirit another of the sons of god." then gennadius, beating the air with his crucifix: "liar--impostor--traitor! ambassador of satan thou! behind thee hell uncurtained! mahomet himself were more tolerable! thou mayst turn black white, quench water with fire, make ice of the blood in our hearts, all in a winking or slowly, our reason resisting, but depose the pure and blessed saviour, or double his throne in the invisible kingdom with mahomet, prince of liars, man of blood, adulterer, monster for whom hell had to be enlarged--that shalt thou never! a body without a soul, an eye its light gone out, a tomb rifled of its dead--such the church without its christ! ... ho, brethren! shame on us that we are guests in common with this fiend in cunning! we are not hosts to bid him begone; yet we can ourselves begone. follow me, o lovers of christ and the church! to your tents, o israel!" the speaker's face was purple with passion; his voice filled the chamber; many of the monks broke from their seats and rushed howling and blindly eager to get nearer him. the patriarch sat ashy white, helplessly crossing himself. constantine excellently and rapidly judging what became him as emperor and host, sent four armed officers to protect the prince, who held his appointed place apparently surprised but really interested in the scene--to him it was an exhibition of unreasoning human nature replying to an old-fashioned impulse of bigotry. hardly were the guards by the table, when gennadius rushed past going to the door, the schismatics at his heels in a panic. the pulling and hauling, the hurry-skurry of the mad exit must be left to the imagination. it was great enough to frighten thoroughly the attendants of the princess irene. directly there remained in the chamber with his majesty, the attaches of the court, the patriarch and his adherents. then constantine quietly asked: "where is duke notaras?" there was much looking around, but no response. the countenance of the monarch was observed to change, but still mindful, he bade the dean conduct the prince to him. "be not alarmed, prince. my people are quick of temper, and sometimes they act hastily. if you have more to say, we are of a mind to hear you to the end." the prince could not but admire the composure of his august host. after a low reverence, he returned: "perhaps i tried the reverend fathers unreasonably; yet it would be a much greater grief to me if their impatience extended to your majesty. i was not alarmed; neither have i aught to add to my discourse, unless it pleases you to ask of anything in it which may have been left obscure or uncertain." constantine signed to the patriarch and all present to draw nearer. "good dean, a chair for his serenity." in a short time the space in front of the dais was occupied. "i understand the prince of india has submitted to us a proposal looking to a reform of our religion," his majesty said, to the patriarch; "and courtesy requiring an answer, the violence to which we have just been subjected, and the spirit of insubordination manifested, make it imperative that you listen to what i now return him, and with attention, lest a misquotation or false report lead to further trouble.... prince," he continued, "i think i comprehend you. the world is sadly divided with respect to religion, and out of its divisions have proceeded the mischiefs to which you have referred. your project is not to be despised. it reminds me of the song, the sweetest ear ever listened to--'peace and good will toward men.' its adoption, nevertheless, is another matter. i have not power to alter the worship of my empire. our present creed was a conclusion reached by a council too famous in history not to be conspicuously within your knowledge. every word of it is infinitely sacred. it fixed the relations between god the father, christ the son, and men to my satisfaction, and that of my subjects. serenity, do thou say if i may apply the remark to the church." "your majesty," the patriarch replied, "the holy greek church can never consent to omit the lord jesus christ from its worship. you have spoken well, and it had been better if the brethren had remained to hear you." "thanks, o most venerated--thanks," said the emperor, inclining his head. "a council having established the creed of the church," he resumed, to the prince of india, "the creed is above change to the extent of a letter except by another council solemnly and authoritatively convoked. wherefore, o prince, i admit myself wiser of the views you have presented; i admit having been greatly entertained by your eloquence and rhetoric; and i promise myself further happiness and profit in drawing upon the stores of knowledge with which you appear so amply provided, results doubtless of your study and travel--yet you have my answer." the faculty of retiring his thoughts and feelings deeper in his heart as occasion demanded, was never of greater service to the prince than now; he bowed, and asked if he had permission to retire; and receiving it, he made the usual prostrations, and began moving backwards. "a moment, prince," said constantine. "i hope your residence is permanently fixed in our capital." "your majesty is very gracious, and i thank you. if i leave the city, it will be to return again, and speedily." at the door of the palace the prince found an escort waiting for him, and taking his chair, he departed from blacherne. chapter xvii lael and the sword of solomon alone in his house, the prince of india was unhappy, but not, as the reader may hurriedly conclude, on account of the rejection by the christians of his proposal looking to brotherhood in the bonds of religion. he was a trifle sore over the failure, but not disappointed. a reasonable man, and, what times his temper left him liberty to think, a philosopher, he could not hope after the observations he brought from mecca to find the followers of the nazarene more relaxed in their faith than the adherents of mahomet. in short, he had gone to the palace warned of what would happen. it was not an easy thing for him to fold up his grand design preparatory to putting it away forever; still there was no choice left him; and now he would move for vengeance. away with hesitation. descending the heights of blacherne, he had felt pity for constantine who, though severely tried in the day's affair, had borne himself with dignity throughout; but it was mahommed's hour. welcome mahommed! between the two, the prince's predilections were all for the turk, and they had been from the meeting at the white castle. besides personal accomplishments and military prestige, besides youth, itself a mighty preponderant, there was the other argument--separating mahommed from the strongest power in the world, there stood only an ancient whose death was a daily expectation. "what opportunities the young man will have to offer me! i have but to make the most of his ambition--to loan myself to it--to direct it." thus the seer reasoned, returning from blacherne to his house. at the door, however, he made a discovery. there the first time during the day he thought of her in all things the image of the lael whom he had buried under the great stone in front of the golden gate at jerusalem. we drop a grain in the ground, and asking nothing of us but to be let alone, it grows, and flowers, and at length amazes us with fruit. such had been the outcome of his adoption of the daughter of the son of jahdai. the prince called syama. "make ready the chair and table on the roof," he said. while waiting, he ate some bread dipped in wine: then walked the room rubbing his hands as if washing them. he sighed frequently. even the servants could see he was in trouble. at length he went to the roof. evening was approaching. on the table were the lamp, the clock, the customary writing materials, a fresh map of the heavens, and a perfect diagram of a nativity to be cast. he took the map in his hand, and smiled--it was lael's work. "how she has improved!--and how rapidly!" he said aloud, ending a retrospect which began with the hour uel consented to her becoming his daughter. she was unlettered then, but how helpful now. he felt an artist's pride in her growth in knowledge. there were tedious calculations which she took off his hands; his geometrical drawings of the planets in their houses were frequently done in haste; she perfected them next day. she had numberless daughterly ways which none but those unused to them like him would have observed. what delight she took in watching the sky for the first appearance of the stars. in this work she lent him her young eyes, and there was such enthusiasm in the exclamations with which she greeted the earliest wink of splendor from the far-off orbs. and he had ailing days; then she would open the great eusebian scriptures at the page he asked for, and read--sometimes from job, sometimes from isaiah, but generally from exodus, for in his view there was never man like moses. the contest with pharaoh--how prodigious! the battles in magic--what glory in the triumphs won! the luring the haughty king into the red sea, and bringing him under the walls of water suddenly let loose! what majestic vengeance! of the idle dreams of aged persons the possibility of attaching the young to them in sentimental bonds of strength to insure resistance to every other attachment is the idlest. positive, practical, experienced though he was, the childless man had permitted this fantasy to get possession of him. he actually brought himself to believe lael's love of him was of that enduring kind. with no impure purpose, yet selfishly, and to bring her under his influence until of preference she could devote her life to him, with its riches of affection, admiration, and dutiful service, he had surrendered himself to her; therefore the boundless pains taken by him personally in her education, the surrounding her with priceless luxuries which he alone could afford--in brief, the attempt to fasten himself upon her youthful fancy as a titled sage and master of many mysteries. so at length it came to pass, while he was happy in his affection for her, he was even happier in her affection for himself; indeed he cultivated the latter sentiment and encouraged it in winding about his being until, in utter unconsciousness, he belonged to it, and, in repetition of experiences common to others, instead of lael's sacrificing herself for him, he was ready to sacrifice everything for her. this was the discovery he made at the door of his house. the reader should try to fancy him in the chair by the table on the roof. evening has passed into night. the city gives out no sound, and the stars have the heavens to themselves. he is lost in thought--or rather, accepting the poetic fancy of a division of the heart into chambers, in that apartment of the palpitating organ of the prince of india supposed to be the abode of the passions, a very noisy parliament was in full session. the speaker--that is, the prince himself--submitted the question: shall i remain here, or go to mahommed? awhile he listened to revenge, whose speech in favor of the latter alternative may be imagined; and not often had its appeals been more effective. ambition spoke on the same side. it pointed out the opportunities offered, and dwelt upon them until the chairman nodded like one both convinced and determined. these had an assistant not exactly a passion but a kinsman collaterally--love of mischief--and when the others ceased, it insisted upon being heard. on the other side, lael led the opposition. she stood by the president's chair while her opponents were arguing, her arms round his neck; when they were most urgent, she would nurse his hand, and make use of some trifling endearment; upon their conclusion, she would gaze at him mutely, and with tears. not once did she say anything. in the midst of this debate, lael herself appeared, and kissed him on the forehead. "thou here!" he said. "why not?" she asked. "nothing--only"-- she did not give him time to finish, but caught up the map, and seeing it fresh and unmarked, exclaimed: "you did so greatly to-day, you ought to rest." he was surprised. "did so greatly?" "at the palace." "put the paper down. now, o my gul bahar"--and he took her hand, and carried it to his cheek, and pressed it softly there--"deal me no riddle. what is it you say? one may do well, yet come out badly." "i was at the market in my father uel's this afternoon," she began, "when sergius came in." a face wonderfully like the face of the man he helped lead out to golgotha flashed before the prince, a briefest passing gleam. "he heard you discourse before the emperor. how wickedly that disgusting gennadius behaved!" "yes," the prince responded darkly, "a sovereign beset with such spirits is to be pitied. but what did the young man think of my proposal to the emperor?" "but for one verse in the testament of christ"-- "nay, dear, say jesus of nazareth." "well, of jesus--but for one verse he could have accepted your argument of many sons of god in the spirit." "what is the verse?" "it is where a disciple speaks of jesus as the only begotten. son." the wanderer smiled. "the young man is too literal. he forgets that the only begotten son may have had many incarnations." "the princess irene was also present," lael went on. "sergius said she too could accept your argument did you alter it"-- "alter it!"--a bitter look wrung the prince's countenance--"sergius, a monk not yet come to orders, and irene, a princess without a husband. oh, a small return for my surrender! ... i am tired--very tired," he said impatiently--"and i have so much, so much to think of. come, good night." "can i do nothing for you?" "yes, tell syama to bring me some water." "and wine?" "yes, some wine." "very well. good night." he drew her to his breast. "good night. o my gul bahar!" she went lightly away, never dreaming of the parliament to which she left him. when she was gone, he sat motionless for near an hour, seeing nothing in the time, although syama set water and wine on the table. and it may be questioned if he heard anything, except the fierce debate going on in his heart. finally he aroused, looked at the sky, arose, and walked around the table; and his expression of face, his actions, were those of a man who had been treading difficult ground, but was safely come out of it. filling a small crystal cup, and holding the red liquor, rich with garnet sparkles, between his eyes and the lamp, he said: "it is over. she has won. if there were for me but the years of one life, the threescore and ten of the psalmist, it had been different. the centuries will bring me a mahommed gallant as this one, and opportunities great as he offers; but never another lael. farewell ambition! farewell revenge! the world may take care of itself. i will turn looker-on, and be amused, and sleep.... to hold her, i will live for her, but in redoubled state. so will i hurry her from splendor to splendor, and so fill her days with moving incidents, she shall not have leisure to think of another love. i will be powerful and famous for her sake. here in this old centre of civilization there shall be two themes for constant talk, constantine and myself. against his rank and patronage, i will set my wealth. ay, for her sake! and i will begin to-morrow." the next day he spent in making drawings and specifications for a palace. the second day he traversed the city looking for a building site. the third day he bought the site most to his fancy. the fourth day he completed a design for a galley of a hundred oars, that it might be sea-going far as the pillars of hercules. nothing ever launched from the imperial docks should surpass it in magnificence. when he went sailing on the bosphorus, byzantium should assemble to witness his going, and with equal eagerness wait the day through to behold him return. and for the four days, lael was present and consulted in every particular. they talked like two children. the schemes filled him with a delight which would have been remarkable in a boy. he packed his books and put away his whole paraphernalia of study--through lael's days he would be an actor in the social world, not a student. of course he recurred frequently to the engagements with mahommed. they did not disturb him. the turk might clamor--no matter, there was the ever ready answer about the unready stars. the veteran intriguer even laughed, thinking how cunningly he had provided against contingencies. but there was a present practical requirement begotten of these schemes--he must have money--soldans by the bag full. very early in the morning of the fifth day, having studied the weather signs from his housetop, he went with nilo to the harbor gate of blacherne, seeking a galley suitable for an outing of a few days on the marmora. he found one, and by noon she was fitted out, and with him and nilo aboard, flying swiftly around point serail. under an awning over the rudder-deck, he sat observing the brown-faced wall of the city, and the pillars and cornices of the noble structures towering above it. as the vessel was about passing the seven towers, now a ruin with a most melancholy history, but in that day a well-garrisoned fortress, he conversed with the master of the galley. "i have no business in the strict meaning of the term," he said, in good humor. "the city has become tiresome to me, and i have fancied a run on the water would be bracing to body and restful to mind. so keep on down the sea. when i desire a change of direction, i will tell you." the mariner was retiring. "stay," the prince continued, his attention apparently caught by two immense gray rocks rising bluffly out of the blue rippling in which the isles of the princes seemed afloat--"what are those yonder? islands, of course, but their names?" "oxia and plati--the one nearest us is oxia." "are they inhabited?" "yes and no," the captain replied, smiling. "oxia used to have a convent, but it is abandoned now. there may be some hermits in the caves on the other side, but i doubt if the poor wretches have noumias to keep their altars in candles. it was so hard to coax visitors into believing god had ever anything to do with the dreary place that patrons concluded to give it over to the bad. plati is a trifle more cheerful. three or four monks keep what used to be the prison there; but they are strays from unknown orders, and live by herding a few starving goats and cultivating snails for the market." "have you been on either of them recently?" "yes, on plati." "when?" "within the year." "well, you excite my curiosity. it is incredible that there can be two such desolations in such close vicinity to yon famous capital. turn and row me around them." the captain was pleased to gratify his passenger, and stood by him while the galley encircled oxia, telling legends, and pointing out the caves to which celebrated anchorites had lent their names. he gave in full the story of basil and prusien, who quarrelled, and fought a duel to the scandal of the church; whereupon constantine viii., then emperor, exiled them, the former to oxia, the latter to plati, where their sole consolation the remainder of their lives was gazing at each other from the mouths of their respective caverns. for some reason, plati, to which he next crossed, was of more interest to the prince than its sister isle. what a cruel exterior the prison at the north end had! wolves and bats might live in it, but men--impossible! he drew back horrified when told circumstantially of the underground cells. while yet on the eastern side, the passenger said he would like to go up to the summit. "there," he exclaimed, pointing to a part of the bluff which appeared to offer a climb, "put me on that shelving rock. i think i can go up by it." the small boat was lowered, and directly he set foot on the identical spot which received him when, in the night fifty-six years before, he made the ascent with the treasures of hiram king of tyre. almost any other man would have given at least a thought to that adventure; the slice out of some lives would have justified a tear; but he was too intent thinking about the jewels and the sword of solomon. his affected awkwardness in climbing amused the captain, watching him from the deck, but at last he gained the top of the bluff. the plain there was the same field of sickly weeds and perishing vines, with here and there a shrub, and yonder a stunted olive tree, covered trunk and branches with edible snails. if it brought anything in the market, the crop, singular only to the western mind, was plenteous enough to be profitable to its farmers. there too was the debris of the tower. with some anxiety he went to the stone which the reader will probably remember as having to be rolled away from the mouth of the hiding-place. it had not been disturbed. these observations taken, he descended the bluff, and was received aboard the galley. a very cautious man was the prince of india. in commercial parlance, he was out to cash a draft on the plati branch of his quadruple bank. he was not down to assist the captain of the galley to partnership with him in the business. so, after completing the circuit of plati, the vessel bore away for prinkipo and halki, which greek wealth and taste had converted into dreamful paradises. there it lay the night and next day, while the easy-going passenger, out for air and rest, amused himself making excursions to the convents and neighboring hills. the second night, a perfect calm prevailing, he took the small boat, and went out on the sea drifting, having provided himself with wine and water, the latter in a new gurglet bought for the trip. the captain need not be uneasy if he were late returning, he said on departing. nilo was an excellent sailor, and had muscle and spirit to contend against a blow. the tranquil environments of prinkipo were enlivened by other parties also drifting. their singing was borne far along the starlit sea. once beyond sight and hearing, nilo plied the oars diligently, bringing up an hour or two after midnight at the shelving rock under the eastern bluff of plati. the way to the ruined tower was then clear. precisely as at the first visit when burial was the object, the concealing stone was pushed aside; after which the prince entered the narrow passage crawling on his hands and knees. he was anxious. if the precious stones had been discovered and carried away, he would have to extend the voyage to jaffa in order to draw from the jerusalem branch of his bank. but the sword of solomon--that was not in the power of man to duplicate--its loss would be irreparable. the stones were mouldy, the passage dark, the progress slow. he had literally to feel every inch in front of him, using his hands as a caterpillar uses its antennae; but he did not complain--the difficulties were the inducements which led him to choose the hiding-place in the first instance. at length he went down a broken step, and, rising to his knees, slipped his left hand along the face of the wall until his fingers dropped into a crack between rocks. it was the spot he sought; he knew it, and breathed easily. in murky lamplight, with mallet and chisel--ah, how long ago!--he had worked a shelf there, finishing it with an oblong pocket in the bottom. to mask the hole was simple. three or four easy-fitting blocks were removed, and thrusting a hand in, he drew forth the sheepskin mantle of the elder nilo. in spite of the darkness, he could not refrain from unrolling the mildewed cover. the sword was safe! he drew the blade and shot it sharply back into the scabbard, then kissed the ruby handle, thinking again of the purchasing power there was in the relic which was yet more than a relic. the leather of the water-gurglet, stiff as wood, responded to a touch. the jewels were also safe, the great emerald with the rest. he touched the bags, counting from one to nine inclusively. then remembering the ten times he had crawled into the passage to put the treasures away, he began their removal, and kept at it until every article was safely deposited in the boat. on the way back to the galley he made new packages, using his mantle as a wrap for the sword, and the new gurglet for the bags of jewels. "i have had enough," he exclaimed to the captain, dropping wearily on the deck about noon. "take me to the city." after a moment of reflection, he added: "land me after nightfall." "we will reach the harbor before sundown." "oh, well! there is the bosphorus--go to buyukdere, and come back." "but, my lord, the captain of the gate may decline to allow you to pass." the prince smiled, and rejoined, with a thought of the bags in the gurglet thrown carelessly down by him: "up with the anchor." the sailor's surmise was groundless. disembarking about midnight, he whispered his name to the captain at the gate of blacherne, and, leaving a soldan in the official palm, was admitted without examination. on the street there was nothing curious in an old man carrying a mantle under his arm, followed by a porter with a half-filled gurglet on his shoulder. finally, the adventure safely accomplished, the prince of india was home again, and in excellent humor. one doubt assailed him--one only. he had just seen the height of candilli, an aerial wonder in a burst of moonlight, and straightway his fancy had crowned it with a structure indian in style, and of material to shine afar delicate as snow against the black bosomed mountain behind it. he was not a greek to fear the turks. nay, in turkish protection there was for him a guaranty of peaceable ownership which he could not see under constantine. and as he was bringing now the wherewith to realize his latest dream, he gave his imagination a loosened rein. he built the house; he heard the tinkling of fountains in its courts, and the echoes in the pillared recession of its halls; free of care, happy once more, with lael he walked in gardens where roses of persia exchanged perfumes with roses of araby, and the daylong singing of birds extended into noon of night; yet, after all, to the worn, weary, droughted heart nothing was so soothing as the fancy which had been his chief attendant from the gate of blacherne--that he heard strangers speaking to each other: "have you seen the palace of lael?" "no, where is it?" "on the crest of candilli." the palace of lael! the name confirmed itself sweeter and sweeter by repetition. and the doubt grew. should he build in the city or amidst the grove of judas trees on the crest of candilli? just as he arrived before his door, he glanced casually across the street, and was surprised by observing light in uel's house. it was very unusual. he would put the treasure away, and go over and inquire into the matter. hardly was he past his own lintel when syama met him. the face of the faithful servant showed unwonted excitement, and, casting himself at his master's feet, he embraced his knees, uttering the hoarse unintelligible cries with which the dumb are wont to make their suffering known. the master felt a chill of fear--something had happened--something terrible--but to whom? he pushed the poor man's head back until he caught the eyes. "what is it?" he asked. syama arose, took the prince's hand, and led him out of the door, across the street, and into uel's house. the merchant, at sight of them, rushed forward and hid his face in the master's breast, crying: "she is gone--lost!--the god of our fathers be with her!" "who is gone? who lost?" "lael, lael--our child--our gul bahar." the blood of the elder jew flew to his heart, leaving him pale as a dead man; yet such was his acquired control of himself, he asked steadily: "gone!--where?" "we do not know. she has been snatched from us--that is all we know." "tell me of it--and quickly." the tone was imperious, and he pushed uel from him. "oh! my friend--and my father's friend--i will tell you all. you are powerful, and love her, and may help where i am helpless." then by piecemeal he dealt out the explanation. "this afternoon she took her chair and went to the wall in front of the bucoleon--sunset, and she was not back. i saw syama--she was not in your house. he and i set out in search of her. she was seen on the wall--later she was seen to descend the steps as if starting home--she was seen in the garden going about on the terrace--she was seen coming out of the front gate of the old palace. we traced her down the street--then she returned to the garden, through the hippodrome, and there she was last seen. i called my friends in the market to my aid--hundreds are now looking for her." "she went out in her chair, did you say?" the steady voice of the prince was in singular contrast with his bloodless face. "yes." "who carried it?" "the men we have long had." "where are they?" "we sought for them--they cannot be found." the prince kept his eyes on uel's face. they were intensely, fiercely bright. he was not in a rage, but thinking, if a man can be said to think when his mind projects itself in a shower. lael's disappearance was not voluntary; she was in detention somewhere in the city. if the purpose of the abduction were money, she would be held in scrupulous safety, and a day or two would bring the demand; but if--he did not finish the idea--it overpowered him. pure steel in utmost flexion breaks into pieces without warning; so with this man now. he threw both hands up, and cried hoarsely: "lend me, o god, of thy vengeance!" and staggering blindly, he would have fallen but for syama. chapter xviii the festival of flowers the academy of epicurus was by no means a trifle spun for vainglory in the fertile fancy of demedes; but a fact just as the brotherhoods of the city were facts, and much more notorious than many of them. wiseacres are generally pessimistic. academy of epicurus indeed! for once there was a great deal in a name. the class mentioned repeated it sneeringly; it spoke to them, and loudly, of some philosophical wickedness. stories of the miraculous growth of the society were at first amusing; then the announcement of its housing excited loud laughter; but when its votaries attached the high sounding term _temple_ to their place of meeting, the clergy and all the devoutly inclined looked sober. in their view the word savored of outright paganism. temple of the academy of epicurus! church had been better--church was at least christian. at length, in ease of the increasing interest, notice was authoritatively issued of a festival of flowers by the academicians, their first public appearance, and great were the anticipations aroused by the further advertisement that they would march from their temple to the hippodrome. the festival took place the afternoon of the third day of the prince of india's voyage to plati. more particularly, while that distinguished foreigner on the deck of the galley was quietly sleeping off the fatigue and wear of body and spirit consequent on the visit to the desolate island, the philosophers were on parade with an immense quota of byzantines of both sexes in observation. about three thousand were in the procession, and from head to foot it was a mass of flowers. the extravaganza deserved the applause it drew. some of its features nevertheless were doubtfully regarded. between the sections into which the column was divided there marched small groups, apparently officers, clad in gowns and vestments, carrying insignia and smoking tripods well known to have belonged to various priesthoods of mythologic fame. when the cortege reached the hippodrome every one in the galleries was reminded of the glory the first constantine gained from his merciless forays upon those identical properties. in the next place, the motto of the society--patience, courage, judgment--was too frequently and ostentatiously exhibited not to attract attention. the words, it was observed, were not merely on banners lettered in gold, but illustrated by portable tableaux of exquisite appositeness and beauty. they troubled the wiseacres; for while they might mean a world of good, they might also stand for several worlds of bad. withal, however, the youthfulness of the academicians wrought the profoundest sensation upon the multitude of spectators. the march was three times round the interior, affording excellent opportunity to study the appearances; and the sober thinking, whom the rarity and tastefulness of the display did not hoodwink, when they discovered that much the greater number participating were beardless lads, shook their heads while saying to each other, at the rate these are going what is to become of the empire? as if the decadence were not already in progress, and they, the croakers, responsible for it! at the end of the first round, upon the arrival of the sections in front of the triple-headed bronze serpent, one of the wonders of the hippodrome then as now, the bearers of the tripods turned out, and set them down, until at length the impious relic was partially veiled in perfumed smoke, as was the wont in its better delphian days. nothing more shocking to the religionists could have been invented; they united in denouncing the defiant indecency. hundreds of persons, not all of them venerable and frocked, were seen to rise and depart, shaking the dust from their feet. in course of tile third circuit, the tripods were coolly picked up and returned to their several places in the procession. from a seat directly over the course, sergius beheld the gay spectacle from its earliest appearance through the portal of the blues to its exit by the portal of the greens. [footnote: the blues and the greens--two celebrated factions of constantinople. see gibbon, vii. pp. - . four gates, each flanked with towers, gave entrance to the hippodrome from the city. the northwestern was called the gate of the blues; the northeastern of the greens; the southeastern gate bore the sullen title, "gate of the dead."--prof. edwin a. grosvenor.] his interest, the reader will bear reminding, was peculiar. he had been honored by a special invitation to become a member of the academy--in fact, there was a seat in the temple at the moment reserved for him. he had the great advantage, moreover, of exact knowledge of the objects of the order. godless itself, it had been organized to promote godlessness. he had given much thought to it since demedes unfolded the scheme to him, and found it impossible to believe persons of sound sense could undertake a sin so elaborate. if for any reason the state and church were unmindful of it, heaven certainly could not be. aside from the desire to satisfy himself of the strength of the academy, sergius was drawn to the hippodrome to learn, if possible, the position demedes held in it. his sympathy with the venerable hegumen, with whom mourning for the boy astray was incessant, and sometimes pathetic as the jewish king's, gradually became a grief for the prodigal himself, and he revolved plans for his reformation. what happiness could he one day lead the son to the father, and say: "your prayers and lamentations have been heard; see--god's kiss of peace on his forehead!" and then in what he had seen of demedes--what courage, dash, and audacity--what efficiency--what store of resources! the last play of his--attending the fete of the princess irene as a bear tender--who but demedes would have thought of such a role? who else could have made himself the hero of the occasion, with none to divide honors with him except joqard? and what a bold ready transition from bear tender to captain in the boat race! demedes writhing in the grip of nilo over the edge of the wall, death in the swish of waves beneath, had been an object of pity tinged with contempt--demedes winner of the prize at therapia was a very different person. this feeling for the greek, it is to be said next, was dashed with a lurking dread of him. if he had a design against lael, what was there to prevent him from attempting it? that he had such a design, sergius could not deny. how often he repeated the close of the note left on the stool after the fisherman's fete. "thou mayst find the fan of the princess of india useful; with me it is embalmed in sentiment." he shall write with a pen wondrous fine who makes the difference between love and sentiment clear. behind the fete, moreover, there was the confession heard on the wall, illustrated by the story of the plague of crime. instead of fading out in the russian's mind it had become better understood--a consequence of the brightening process of residence in the city. twice the procession rounded the great curriculum. twice sergius had opportunity to look for the greek, but without avail. so were the celebrants literally clothed in flowers that recognition of individuals was almost impossible. the first time, he sought him in the body of each passing section; the second time, he scanned the bearers of the standards and symbols; the third time, he was successful. at the head of the parade, six or eight persons were moving on horseback. it was singular sergius had not looked for demedes amongst them, since the idea of him would have entitled the greek to a chief seat in the temple and a leading place when in the eye of the public. as it was, he could not repress an exclamation on making the discovery. like his associates, demedes was in armor _cap-a-pie_. he also carried an unshod lance, a shield on arm, and a bow and quiver at his back; but helmet, breastplate, shield, lance and bow were masked in flowers, and only now and then a glint betrayed the underdress of polished steel. the steed he bestrode was housed in cloth which dragged the ground; but of the color of the cloth or its material not a word can be said, so entirely was it covered with floral embroidery of diverse hues and figures. the decoration contributed little of grace to man or beast; nevertheless its richness was undeniable. to the spendthrifts in the galleries the effect was indescribably attractive. they studied its elaboration, conjecturing how many gardens along the bosphorus, and out in the isles of the princes, had been laid under contribution for the accomplishment of the splendor. thus in the saddle, demedes could not have been accused of diminutiveness; he appeared tall, even burly; indeed, sergius would never have recognized him had he not been going with raised visor, and at the instant of passing turned his face up, permitting it to be distinctly seen. the exclamation wrung from the monk was not merely because of his finding the man; in sober truth, it was an unconventional expression provoked by finding him in the place he occupied, and a quick jump to the logical conclusion that the foremost person in the march was also the chief priest--if such were the title--in the academy. thenceforward sergius beheld little else of the show than demedes. he forgot the impiety of the honors to the bronze serpent. there is no enigma to us like him who is broadly our antipodes in moral being, and whether ours is the good or the bad nature does not affect the saying. his feelings the while were strangely diverse. the election of the evil genius to the first place in the insidious movement was well done for the academy; there would be no failure with him in control; but the poor hegumen! and now, the last circuit completed, the head of the bright array approached the gate of the greens. there the horsemen drew out and formed line on the right hand to permit the brethren to march past them. the afternoon was going rapidly. the shadow of the building on the west crept more noticeably across the carefully kept field. still sergius retained his seat watchful of demedes. he saw him signal the riders to turn out--he saw the line form, and the sections begin to march past it--then an incident occurred of no appreciable importance at the moment, but replete with significancy a little later. a man appeared on the cornice above the gate--the grate on the interior having a face resembling a very tall but shallow portico resting on slender pillars--and commenced lowering himself as if he meant to descend. the danger of the attempt drew all eyes to him. demedes looked up, and hastily rode through the column toward the spot where the adventurer must alight. the spectators credited the young chief with a generous intent to be of assistance; but agile as a cat, and master of every nerve and muscle, the man gained one of the pillars and slid to the ground. the galleries of the hippodrome found voice immediately. while the acrobat hung from the cornice striving to get hold of the pillar with his feet and legs, sergius was wrestling with the question, what could impel a fellow being to tempt providence so rashly? if a messenger with intelligence for some one in the procession, why not wait for him outside? in short, the monk was a trifle vexed; but doubly observant now, he saw the man hasten to demedes, and demedes bend low in the saddle to receive a communication from him. the courier then hurried away through the gate, while the chief returned to his place; but, instructed probably by some power of divination proceeding from sympathy and often from suspicion, one of the many psychological mysteries about which we keep promising ourselves a day of enlightenment, sergius observed a change in the latter. he was restless, impatient, and somewhat too imperative in hastening the retirement of the brethren. the message had obviously excited him. now sergius would have freely given the best of his earthly possessions to have known at that moment the subject of the communication delivered by a route so extraordinary; but leaving him to his conjectures, there is no reason why the reader should not be more confidentially treated. "sir," the messenger had whispered to demedes, "she has left her father's, and is coming this way." "how is she coming?" "in her sedan." "who is with her?" "she is alone." "and her porters?" "the bulgarians." "thank you. go now--out by the gate--to the keeper of the imperial cistern. tell him to await me under the wall in the bucoleon garden with my chair. he will understand. come to the temple tomorrow for your salary." chapter xix the prince builds castles for his gul bahar the words between demedes and his courier may have the effect of additionally exciting the reader's curiosity; for better understanding, therefore, we will take the liberty of carrying him from the hippodrome to the house of uel the merchant. much has been said about the prince of india's affection for lael; so much indeed that there is danger of its being thought one sided. a greater mistake could scarcely be. she returned his love as became a daughter attentive, tender and obedient. without knowing anything of his past life except as it was indistinctly connected with her family, she regarded him a hero and a sage whose devotion to her, multiform and unwearied, was both a delight and an honor. she was very sympathetic, and in everything of interest to him responded with interest. his word in request or direction was law to her. such in brief was the charming mutuality between them. the night before he started for plati, lael sat with him on the roof. he was happy of his resolution to stay with her. the moonlight was ample for them. looking up into his face, her chin in a palm, an elbow on his knee, she listened while he talked of his plans, and was the more interested because he made her understand she was the inspiration of them all. "the time for my return home is up," he said, forgetting to specify where the home was, "and i should have been off before this but for my little girl--my gul bahar"--and he patted her head fondly. "i cannot go and leave her; neither can i take her with me, for what would then become of father uel? when she was a child it might not have been so hard for me to lose sight of her, but now--ah, have i not seen you grow day by day taller, stronger, wiser, fairer of person, sweeter of soul, until you are all i fancied you would be--until you are my ideal of a young woman of our dear old israel, the loveliness of judah in your eyes and on your cheek, and of a spirit to sit in the presence of the lord like one invited and welcome? oh, i am very happy!" he kept silence awhile, indulging in retrospect. if she could have followed him! better probably that she could not. "it is a day of ease to me, dear, and i cannot see any unlawfulness in extending the day into months, or a year, or years indefinitely, and in making the most of it. can you?" he asked, smiling at her. "i am but a handmaiden, and my master's eyes are mine," she replied. "that was well said--ever so well said," he returned. "the words would have become ruth speaking to her lord who was of the kindred of elimelech... yes, i will stay with my gul bahar, my most precious one. i am resolved. she loves me now, but can i not make her love me still more--oh, doubt not, doubt not! her happiness shall be the measure of her love for me. that is the right way, is it not?" "my father is never wrong," lael answered, laughing. "flatterer!" he exclaimed, pressing her cheeks between his hands.... "oh, i have it marked out already! in the dry lands of my country, i have seen a farmer, wanting to lead water to a perishing field, go digging along the ground, while the stream bubbled and leaped behind him, tame and glad as a petted lamb. my heart is the field to be watered--your love, o my pretty, pretty gul bahar, is the refreshing stream, and i will lead it after me--never fear!... listen, and i will tell you how i will lead it. i will make you a princess. these greeks are a proud race, but they shall bow to you; for we will live amongst them, and you shall have things richer than their richest--trinkets of gold and jewels, a palace, and a train of women equal to that of the queen who went visiting solomon. they praise themselves when they look at their buildings, but i tell you they know nothing of the art which turns dreams into stones. the crags and stones have helped them to their models. i will teach them better--to look higher--to find vastness with grace and color in the sky. the dome of sancta sophia--what is it in comparison with the hindoo masterpieces copied from the domes of god on the low-lying clouds in the distance opposite the sun?" then he told her of his palace in detail--of the fronts, no two of them alike--the pillars, those of red granite, those of porphyry, and the others of marble--windows which could not be glutted with light--arches such as the western kaliphs transplanted from damascus and bagdad, in form first seen in a print of the hoof of borak. then he described the interior, courts, halls; passages, fountains: and when he had thus set the structure before her, he said, softly smoothing her hair: "there now--you have it all--and verily, as hiram, king of tyre, helped solomon in his building, he shall help me also." "how can he help you?" she asked, shaking her finger at him. "he has been dead this thousand years, and more." "yes, dear, to everybody but me," he answered, lightly, and asked in turn: "how do you like the palace?" "it will be wonderful!" "i have named it. would you like to hear the name?" "it is something pretty, i know." "the palace of lael." her cry of delighted surprise, given with clasped hands and wide-open eyes, would have been tenfold payment were he putting her in possession of the finished house. the sensation over, he told her of his design for a galley. "we know how tiresome the town becomes. in winter, it is cheerless and damp; in summer, it is hot, dusty and in every way trying. weariness will invade our palace--yes, dear, though we hide from it in the shady heart of our hall of fountains. we can provide against everything but the craving for change. not being birds to fly, and unable to compel the eagles to lend us their wings, the best resort is a galley; then the sea is ours--the sea, wide, mysterious, crowded with marvels. i am never so near the stars as there. when a wave is bearing me up, they seem descending to meet me. times have been when i thought the pleiades were about to drop into my palm.... here is my galley. you see, child, the palace is to be yours, the galley mine." thereupon he described a trireme of a hundred and twenty oars, sixty on a side, and ended, saying: "yes, the peerless ship will be mine, but every morning it shall be yours to say take it here or there, until we have seen every city by the sea; and there are enough of them, i promise, to keep us going and going forever were it not that the weariness which drove us from our palace will afterwhile drive us back to it. how think you i have named my galley?" "lael," she answered. "no, try again." "the world is too full of names for me. tell me." "gul bahar," he returned. again she clasped her hands, and gave the little cry in his ears so pleasant. certainly the prince was pleading with effect, and laying up happiness in great store to cheer him through unnumbered sterile years inevitably before him after time had resolved this lael into a faint and fading memory, like the other lael gone to dust under the stone at jerusalem. the first half of the night was nearly spent when he arose to conduct her across the street to uel's house. the last words at the head of the steps were these: "now, dear, to-morrow i must go a journey on business which will keep me three days and nights--possibly three weeks. tell father uel what i say. tell him also that i have ordered you to stay indoors while i am absent, unless he can accompany you. do you hear me?" "three weeks!" she cried, protestingly. "oh, it will be so lonesome! why may i not go with syama?" "syama would be a wisp of straw in the hands of a ruffian. he could not even call for help." "then why not with nilo?" "nilo is to attend me." "oh, i see," she said, with a merry laugh. "it is the greek, the greek, my persecutor! why, he has not recovered from his fright yet; he has deserted me." he answered gravely: "do you remember a bear tender, one of the amusements at the fisherman's fete?" "oh, yes." "he was the greek." "he!" she cried, astonished. "yes. i have it from sergius the monk; and further, my child, he was there in pursuit of you." "oh, the monster! i threw him my fan!" the prince knew by the tremulous voice she was wounded, and hastened to say: "it was nothing. he deceived everybody but sergius. i spoke of the pestilent fellow because you wanted a reason for my keeping you close at home. perhaps i exacted too much of you. if i only knew certainly how long i shall be detained! the three weeks will be hard--and it may be uel cannot go with you--his business is confining. so if you do venture out, take your sedan--everybody knows to whom it belongs--and the old bulgarian porters. i have paid them enough to be faithful to us. are you listening, child?" "yes, yes--and i am so glad!" he walked down the stairs half repenting the withdrawal of his prohibition. "be it so," he said, crossing the street. "the confinement might be hurtful. only go seldom as you can; then be sure you return before sunset, and that you take and keep the most public streets. that is all now." "you are so good to me!" she said, putting her arm round his neck, and kissing him. "i will try and stay in the house. come back early. farewell." next day about noon the prince of india took the galley, and set out for plati. the day succeeding his departure was long with lael. she occupied herself with her governess, however, and did a number of little tasks such as women always have in reserve for a more convenient season. the second day was much more tedious. the forenoon was her usual time for recitations to the prince; she also read with him then, and practised talking some of the many languages of which he was master. that part of the day she accordingly whiled through struggling with her books. she was earnest in the attempt at study; but naturally, the circumstances considered, she dropped into thinking of the palace and galley. what a delightful glorious existence they prefigured! and it was not a dream! her father, the prince of india, as she proudly and affectionately called him, did not deal in idle promises, but did what he said. and besides being a master of design in many branches of art, he had an amazing faculty of describing the things he designed. that is saying he had the mind's eye to see his conceptions precisely as they would appear in finished state. so in talking his subjects always seemed before him for portraiture. one can readily perceive the capacity he must have had for making the unreal appear real to a listener, and also how he could lead lael, her hand in his, through a house more princely than anything of the kind in constantinople, and on board a ship such as never sailed unless on a painted ocean--a house like the taj mahal, a vessel like that which burned on the cydnus. she decided what notable city by the sea she wanted most to look at next, and in naming them over, smiled at her own indecision. the giving herself to such fancies was exactly what the prince intended; only he was to be the central figure throughout. whether in the palace or on the ship, she was to think of him alone, and always as the author of the splendor and the happiness. of almost any other person we would speak compassionately; but he had lived long enough to know better than dream so childishly--long enough at least to know there is a law for everything except the vagaries of a girl scarcely sixteen. after all, however, if his scheme was purely selfish, perhaps it may be pleasing to the philosophers who insist that relations cannot exist without carrying along with them their own balance of compensations, to hear how lael filled the regal prospect set before her with visions in which sergius, young, fair, tall and beautiful, was the hero, and the prince only a paternal contributor. if the latter led her by the hand here and there, sergius went with them so close behind she could hear his feet along the marble, and in the voyages she took, he was always a passenger. the trial of the third day proved too much for the prisoner. the weather was delightfully clear and warm, and in the afternoon she fell to thinking of the promenade on the wall by the bucoleon, and of the waftures over the sea from the asian olympus. they were sweet in her remembrance, and the longing for them was stronger of a hope the presence of which she scarcely admitted to herself--a hope of meeting sergius. she wanted to ask him if the bear-tender at the fete could have been the greek. often as she thought of that odious creature with her fan, she blushed, and feared sergius might seriously misunderstand her. about three o'clock she ordered her chair brought to father uel's door at exactly four, having first dutifully run over the conditions the prince had imposed upon her. uel was too busy to be her escort. syama, if he went, would be no protection; but she would return early. to be certain, she made a calculation. it would take about half an hour to get to the wall; the sun would set soon after seven; by starting home at six she could have fully an hour and a half for the airing, which meant a possible hour and a half with sergius. at four o'clock the sedan was set down before the merchant's house, and, for a reason presently apparent, the reader to whom vehicles of the kind are unfamiliar is advised to acquaint himself somewhat thoroughly with them. in idea, as heretofore observed, this one was a box constructed with a seat for a single passenger; a door in front allowed exit and entrance; besides the window in the door, there was a smaller opening on each side. for portage, it was affixed centrally and in an upright position to two long poles; these, a porter in front and another behind grasped at the ends, easing the burden by straps passed over the shoulders. the box was high enough for the passenger to stand in it. lest this plain description should impose an erroneous idea of the appearance of the carriage, we again advert to its upholstery in silk-velvet orange-tinted; to the cushions covering the seat; to the lace curtaining the windows in a manner to permit view from within while screening the occupant from obtrusive eyes without; and to the elaborate decoration of the exterior, literally a mosaic of vari-colored woods, mother-of-pearl and gold, the latter in lines and flourishes. in fine, to such a pitch of gorgeousness had the prince designed the chair, intending the public should receive it as an attestation of his love for the child to whom it was specially set apart, that it became a notoriety and avouched its ownership everywhere in the city. the reader would do well in the next place to give a glance at the men who brought the chair to the door--two burly fellows, broad-faced, shock-headed, small-eyed, sandalled, clad in semi-turbans, gray shirts, and gray trousers immensely bagged behind--professional porters; for the service demanded skill. a look by one accustomed to the compound of races hived in constantinople would have determined them bulgarians in extraction, and subjects of the sultan by right of recent conquest. they had settled upon the prince of india in a kind of retainership. as the chair belonged to lael, from long employment as carriers they belonged to the chair. their patron dealt very liberally with them, and for that reason had confidence in their honesty and faithfulness. that they should have pride in the service, he dressed them in a livery. on this occasion, however, they presented themselves in every-day costume--a circumstance which would not have escaped the prince, or uel, or syama. the only witness of the departure was the governess, who came out and affectionately settled her charge in the chair, and heard her name the streets which the bulgarians were to pursue, all of them amongst the most frequented of the city. gazing at her through the window the moment the chair was raised, she thought lael never appeared lovelier and was herself pleased and lulled with the words she received at parting: "i will be home before sunset." the carriers in going followed instructions, except that upon arrival at the hippodrome, observing it already in possession of a concourse of people waiting for the epicureans, they passed around the enormous pile, and entered the imperial gardens by a gate north of sancta sophia. lael found the promenade thronged with habitues, and falling into the current moving toward point serail, she permitted her chair to become part of it; after which she was borne backward and forward from the serail to the port of julian, stopping occasionally to gaze at the isles of the princes seemingly afloat and drifting through the purple haze of the distance. where, she persisted in asking herself, is sergius? lest he might pass unobserved, she kept the curtains of all the windows aside, and every long gown and tall hat she beheld set her heart to fluttering. her eagerness to meet the monk at length absorbed her. the sun marked five o'clock--then half after five--then, in more rapid declension, six, and still she went pendulously to and fro along the wall--six o'clock, the hour for starting home; but she had not seen sergius. on land the shadows were lengthening rapidly; over the sea, the brightness was dulling, and the air perceptibly freshening. she awoke finally to the passage of time, and giving up the hope which had been holding her to the promenade, reluctantly bade the carriers take her home. "shall we go by the streets we came?" the forward man asked, respectfully. "yes," she returned. then, as he closed the door, she was startled by noticing the promenade almost deserted; the going and coming were no longer in two decided currents; groups had given place to individual loiterers. these things she noticed, but not the glance the porters threw to each other telegraphic of some understanding between them. at the foot of the stairs descending the wall she rapped on the front window. "make haste," she said, to the leading man; "make haste, and take the nearest way." this, it will be perceived, left him to choose the route in return, and he halted long enough to again telegraph his companion by look and nod. between the eastern front of the bucoleon and the sea-wall the entire space was a garden. from the wall the ascent to the considerable plateau crowned by the famous buildings was made easy by four graceful terraces, irregular in width, and provided with zigzag roads securely paved. roses and lilies were not the only products of the terraces; vines and trees of delicate leafage and limited growth flourished upon them in artistic arrangement. here and there were statues and lofty pillars, and fountains in the open, and fountains under tasteful pavilions, planted advantageously at the angles. except where the trees and shrubbery formed groups dense enough to serve as obstructions, the wall commanded the whole slope. time was when all this loveliness was jealously guarded for the lords and ladies of the court; but when blacherne became the very high residence the bucoleon lapsed to the public. his majesty maintained it; the people enjoyed it. following the zigzags, the carriers mounted two of the terraces without meeting a soul. the garden was deserted. hastening on, they turned the y at the beginning of the third terrace. a hundred or more yards along the latter there was a copse of oleander and luxuriant filbert bushes over-ridden by fig trees. as the sedan drew near this obstruction, its bearers flung quick glances above and below them, and along the wall, and descrying another sedan off a little distance but descending toward them, they quickened their pace as if to pass the copse first. in the midst of it, at the exact point where the view from every direction was cut off, the man in the rear stumbled, struggled to recover himself, then fell flat. his ends of the poles struck the pavement with a crash--the chair toppled backward--lael screamed. the leader slipped the strap from his shoulder, and righted the carriage by letting it go to the ground, floor down. he then opened the door. "do not be scared," he said to lael, whose impulse was to scramble out. "keep your seat--my comrade has had a fall--that is nothing--keep your seat. i will get him up, and we will be going on in a minute." lael became calm. the man walked briskly around, and assisted his partner to his feet. there was a hurried consultation between them, of which the passenger heard only the voices. presently they both came to the door, looking much mortified. "the accident is more than i thought," the leader said, humbly. by this time the chill of the first fear was over with lael, and she asked: "can we go on?" "if the princess can walk--yes." she turned pale. "what is it? why must i walk?" "our right-hand pole is broken, and we have nothing to tie it with." and the other man added: "if we only had a rope!" now the mishap was not uncommon, and remembering the fact, lael grew cooler, and bethought herself of the silken scarf about her waist. to take it off was the work of a moment. "here," she said, rather pleased at her presence of mind; "you can make a rope of this." they took the scarf, and busied themselves, she thought, trying to bandage the fractured shaft. again they stood before the door. "we have done the best we can. the pole will hold the chair, but not with the princess. she must walk--there is nothing else for her." thereupon the assistant interposed a suggestion: "one of us can go for another chair, and overtake the princess before she reaches the gate." this was plausible, and lael stepped forth. she sought the sun first; the palace hid it, yet she was cheered by its last rays redly enlivening the heights of scutari across the bosphorus, and felicitated herself thinking it still possible to get home before the night was completely fallen. "yes, one of you may seek another"-- that instant the sedan her porters had descried before they entered the copse caught her eyes. doubt, fear, suspicion vanished; her face brightened: "a chair! a chair!--and no one in it!" she cried, with the vivacity of a child. "bring it here, and let us be gone." the carriage so heartily welcomed was of the ordinary class, and the carriers were poorly clad, hard-featured men, but stout and well trained. they came at call. "where are you going?" "to the wall." "are you engaged?" "no, we hoped to find some one belated there." "do you know uel the merchant?" "we have heard of him. he has a stall in the market, and deals in diamonds." "do you know where his house is?" "on the street from st. peter's gate, under the church by the old cistern." "we have a passenger here, his daughter, and want you to carry her home. one of our poles is broken." "will she pay us our price?" "how much do you want?" here lael interposed: "stand not on the price. my father will pay whatever they demand." the bulgarians seemed to consider a moment. "it is the best we can do," the leader said. "yes, the very best," the other returned. thereupon the first one went to the new sedan, and opened the door. "if the princess will take seat," he said, respectfully, "we will pick up, and follow close after her." lael stepped in, saying as the door closed upon her: "make haste, for the night is near." the strangers without further ado faced about, and started up the road. "wait, wait," she heard her old leader call out. there was a silence during which she imagined the bulgarians were adjusting the straps upon their shoulders; then there came a quick: "now go, and hurry, or we will pass you." these were the last words she heard from them, for the new men put themselves in motion. she missed the cushions of her own carriage, but was content--she was returning home, and going fast. this latter she judged by the slide and shuffle of the loose-sandalled feet under her, and the responsive springing of the poles. the reaction of spirit which overtook her was simply the swing of nature back to its normal lightness. she ceased thinking of the accident, except as an excuse for the delay to which she had been subjected. she was glad the prince's old retainer had escaped without injury. there was no window back through which she could look, yet she fancied she heard the feet of the faithful bulgarians; they said nothing, therefore everything was proceeding well. now and then she peered out through the side windows to notice the deepening of the shades of evening. once a temporary darkness filled the narrow box, but it gave her no uneasiness--the men were passing out of the garden through a covered gate. now they were in a street, and the travelling plain. thus assured and tranquil, maiden-like, she again fell to thinking of sergius. where could he have been? what kept him from the promenade? he might have known she would be there. was the hegumen so exacting? old people are always forgetting they cannot make young people old like themselves; and it was so inconvenient, especially now she wanted to hear of the bear tender. then she adverted to the monk more directly. how tall he was! how noble and good of face! and his religion--she wished ever so quietly that he could be brought over to the judean faith--she wished it, but did not ask herself why. to say truth, there was a great deal more feeling in undertone, as it were, touching these points than thought; and while she kept it going, the carriers forgot not to be swift, nor did the night tarry. suddenly there was an awakening. from twilight deeply shaded, she passed into utter darkness. while, with her face to a window, she tried to see where she was and make out what had happened, the chair stopped, and next moment was let drop to the ground. the jar and the blank blackness about renewed her fears, and she called out: "what is the matter? where are we? this is not my father uel's." and what time an answer should have been forthcoming had there been good faith and honesty in the situation, she heard a rush of feet which had every likeness to a precipitate flight, and then a banging noise, like the slamming to of a ponderous door. she had time to think of the wisdom of her father, the prince of india, and of her own wilfulness--time to think of the greek--time to call once on sergius--then a flutter of consciousness--an agony of fright--and it was as if she died. chapter xx the silhouette of a crime a genius thoroughly wicked--such was demedes. quick to see the disgust the young men of constantinople had fallen into for the disputes their elders were indulging about the churches, he proposed that they should discard religion, and reinstate philosophy; and at their request he formulated the following: "nature is the lawgiver; the happiness of man is the primary object of nature: hence for youth, pleasure; for old age, repentance and piety, the life hereafter being a respectable conjecture." the principles thus tersely stated were eagerly adopted, and going forward with his scheme, it may be said the academy was his design, and its organization his work. in recognition of his superior abilities, the grateful academicians elected him their high priest. we have seen how the public received the motto of the society. patience, courage, judgment looked fair and disclosed nothing wrong; but there was an important reservation to it really the only secret observed. this was the motto in full, known only to the initiated--patience, courage, judgment _in the pursuit of pleasure_. from the hour of his installation as high priest, demedes was consumed by an ambition to illustrate the motto in its entirety, by doing something which should develop the three virtues in connection with unheard of daring and originality. it is to be added here that to his own fortune, he had now the treasury of the academy to draw upon, and it was full. in other words, he had ample means to carry out any project his _judgment_ might approve. he pondered the matter long. one day lael chanced to fall under his observation. she was beautiful and the town talk. here, he thought, was a subject worth studying, and speedily two mysteries presented themselves to him: who was the prince of india? and what was her true relationship to the prince? we pass over his resorts in unravelling the mysteries; they were many and cunning, and thoroughly tried the first virtue of the academical motto; still the sum of his finding with respect to the prince was a mere theory--he was a jew and rich--beyond this demedes took nothing for his pains. he proceeded next to investigate lael. she too was of jewish origin, but unlike other jewesses, wonderful to say, she had two fathers, the diamond merchant and the prince of india. nothing better could be asked--so his judgment, the third virtue of the motto, decreed. in byzantine opinion, jews were socially outside decent regard. in brief, if he should pursue the girl to her ruin, there was little to fear from an appeal by either of her fathers to the authorities. exile might be the extremest penalty of discovery. he began operations by putting into circulation the calumny, too infamous for repetition, with which we have seen him attempt to poison sergius. robbing the victim of character would deprive her of sympathy, and that, in the event of failure, would be a half defence for himself with the public. he gave himself next to finding what to do with the little princess, as he termed her. all his schemes respecting her fell short in that they lacked originality. at last the story of the plague of crime, stumbled on in the library of the st. james', furnished a suggestion novel, if not original, and he accepted it. proceeding systematically, he first examined the cistern, paddling through it in a boat with a flambeau at the bow. he sounded the depth of the water, counted the pillars, and measured the spaces between them; he tested the purity of the air; and when the reconnoissance was through, he laughed at the simplicity of the idea, and embodied his decision in a saying eminently becoming his philosophic character--the best of every new thing is that it was once old. next he reduced the affair to its elements. he must steal her--such was the deed in simplest term--and he must have assistants, but prudence whispered just as few of them as possible. he commenced a list, heading it with the keeper of the cistern, whom he found poor, necessitous, and anxious to better his condition. upon a payment received, that worthy became warmly interested, and surprised his employer with suggestions of practical utility. coming then to the abduction, he undertook a study of her daily life, hoping it would disclose something available. a second name was thereupon entered in his list of accomplices. one day a beggar with sore eyes and a foot swollen with elephantiasis--an awful object to sight--set a stool in an angle of the street a few doors from uel's house; and thenceforward the girl's every appearance was communicated to demedes, who never forgot the great jump of heart with which he heard of the gorgeous chair presented her by the prince, and of the visit she forthwith made to the wall of the bucoleon. soon as he satisfied himself that the bulgarians were in the prince's pay, he sounded them. they too were willing to permit him to make them comfortable the remainder of their days, especially as, after the betrayal asked of them, they had only to take boat to the turkish side of the bosphorus, beyond pursuit and demand. his list of assistants was then increased to four. now indeed the game seemed secure, and he prepared for the hour which was to bring the jewess to him. the keeper of the cistern was the solitary occupant of a house built round a small court from which a flight of stone steps admitted to the darkened water. he had a felicitous turn for mechanics, and undertook the building of a raft with commodious rooms on it. demedes went with him to select a place of anchorage, and afterward planned the structure to fit between four of the pillars in form thus: [illustration] seeing the design on paper, demedes smiled--it was so like a cross; the part in lines being the landing, and the rest a room divisible at pleasure into three rooms. a boat was provided for communication, and to keep it hid from visitors, a cord was fixed to a pillar off in the darkness beyond ken, helped though it might be by torches; so standing on the stone steps, one could draw the vessel to and fro, exactly as a flag is hoisted or lowered on a staff. the work took a long time, but was at last finished. the high priest of the epicureans came meantime to have something akin to tender feeling for his intended victim. he indulged many florid dreams of when she should grace his bower in the imperial cistern; and as the time of her detention might peradventure extend into months, he vowed to enrich the bower until the most wilful spirit would settle into contentment. neither the money nor the time spent in this part of the preparation was begrudged; on the contrary, demedes took delight in the occupation; it was exercise for ingenuity, taste, and judgment, always a pleasure to such as possess the qualities. in fact, the whole way through he likened himself to a bird building a nest for its mate. after all, however, the part of the project most troublesome of arrangement by the schemer, was getting the princess into the cistern keeper's house--that is, without noise, scuffle, witnesses, or a clew left behind. to this he gave more hours of reflection than to the rest altogether. the method we have seen executed was decided upon when he arrived at two conclusions; that the attempt was most likely to succeed in the garden of the bucoleon, and that the princess must be lured from her chair into another less conspicuous and not so well known. greatly to his regret, but of necessity, he then saw himself compelled to increase his list of accessories to six. yet he derived peace remembering none of them, with exception of the keeper, knew aught of the affair beyond their immediate connection with it. the porters, for instance, who dropped the unfortunate and fled, leaving her in the sedan to intents dead, had not the slightest idea of what was to become of her afterwards. the conjunctions needful to success in the enterprise were numerous; yet the greek accepted the waiting they put him to as a trial of the patience to which the motto pledged him. he believed in being ready. when the house was built and furnished, he drilled the bulgarians with such particularity that the scene in the garden may be said to have been literally to order. probably the nearest approach to the mythical sixth sense is the power of casting one's mind forward to a coming event, and arranging its occurrence; and whether some have it a gift of nature, while others derive it from cultivation, this much is certain--without it, no man will ever create anything originally. now, if the reader pleases, demedes was too liberally endowed with the faculty, trait or sense of which we have just spoken to permit the sedan to be broken; such an accident would have been very inconvenient at the critical moment succeeding the exchange of chairs. the prompter ever at the elbow of a bad man instructed him that, aside from what the prince of india could not do, it was in his power to arouse the city, and set it going hue and cry; and then the carriage, rich, glittering, and known to so many, would draw pursuit, like a flaming torch at night. so it occurred to demedes, the main object being to conceal the going to the cistern keeper's, why not use the sedan to deceive the pursuers? he scored the idea with an exultant laugh. returning now to the narrative of the enactment, directly the strange porters moved out of the copse with their unsuspecting passenger, the bulgarians slung the poles to their shoulders, and followed up the zigzag to the y of the fourth terrace; there they turned, and retraced their steps to the promenade; whence, after reaching point serail, they doubled on their track, descended the wall, traversed the garden, and, passing the gate by which they came, paraded their empty burden around the hippodrome and down a thronged street. and again doubling, they returned to the wall, and finding it forsaken, and the night having fallen, they abandoned the chair at a spot where the water on the seaward side was deep and favorable for whatever violence theory might require. in the course of this progress they were met by numberless people, many of whom stopped to observe the gay turnout, doubting not that the little princess was within directing its movements. finally, their task thoroughly done, the bulgarians hurried to where a boat was in readiness, and crossing to scutari, lost themselves in the growing dominions of their rightful lord, the sultan. one casually reading this silhouette of a crime in act is likely to rest here, thinking there was nothing more possible of doing either to forward the deed or facilitate the escape of those engaged in it; yet demedes was not content. there were who had heard him talk of the girl--who knew she had been much in his thought--to whom he had furnished ground for suspecting him of following her with evil intent--sergius amongst others. in a word, he saw a necessity for averting attention from himself in the connection. here also his wit was willing and helpful. the moment the myrmidon dropped from the portico with news that the princess was out in her chair unattended, he decided she was proceeding to the wall. "the gods are mindful of me!" he said, his blood leaping quick. "now is the time ripe, and the opportunity come!" looking at the sun, he fixed the hour, and reflected: "five o'clock--she is on the wall. six o'clock--she is still there. half after six--making up her mind to go home. oh, but the air will be sweet, and the sea lovely! seven o'clock--she gives order, and the bulgarians signal my men on the fourth terrace. pray heaven the russian keep to his prayers or stay hearkening for my father's bell!... here am i seen of these thousands. later on--about the time she forsakes the wall--my presence shall be notorious along the streets from the temple to blacherne. then what if the monk talks? may the fiend pave his path with stumbling-blocks and breaknecks! the city will not discredit its own eyes." the epicureans, returning from the hippodrome, reached their temple about half after five o'clock. the dispersal occupied another hour; shortly after, the regalia having been put away, and the tripods and banners stored, demedes called to his mounted assistants: "my brothers, we have worked hard, but the sowing has been bounteous and well done. philosophy in flowers, religion in sackcloth--that is the comparison we have given the city. there will be no end to our harvest. to-morrow our doors open to stay open. to-day i have one further service for you. to your horses and ride with me to the gate of blacherne. we may meet the emperor." they answered him shouting: "live the emperor!" "yes," cried demedes, when the cheering was over, "by this time he should be tired of the priests; and what is that but the change of heart needful to an epicurean?" laughing and joking, they mounted, eight of them, in flowers as when in the hippodrome. the sun was going down, but the streets were yet bright with day. it was the hour when balconies overhanging the narrow thoroughfares were crowded with women and children, and the doors beset with servants--the hour byzantine gossips were abroad filling and unfilling their budgets. how the wooden houses trembled while the cavalcade went galloping by! what thousands of bright eyes peered down upon the cavaliers, attracted by the shouting and laughter! now and then some person would be a little late in attempting to cross before him; then with what grace demedes would spur after him, his bow and bowstring for whip! and how the spectators shrieked with delight when he overtook the culprit, and wore the flowers out flogging him! and when a balcony was low, and illuminated with a face fairer than common, how the gallant young riders plucked roses from their helms and shields, and tossed them in shouting: "largesse, lady--largesse of thy smiles!" "look again! another rose for another look!" "from the brave to the fair!" thus to the gate of blacherne. there they drew up, and saluted the officer of the guard, and cheered: "live constantine! to the good emperor, long life!" all the way demedes rode with lifted visor. returning through the twilight, earlier in the close streets than in the open, he led his company by the houses of uel and the prince of india. something might be learned of what was going on with the little princess by what was going on there; and the many persons he saw in the street signified alarm and commotion. "ho, here!" he shouted, drawing rein. "what does this mean? somebody dead or dying?" "uel, the master of the house, is afraid for his child. she should have been home before sundown. he is sending friends out to look for her." there was a whole story in the answer, and the conspirator repressed a cry of triumph, and rode on. chapter xxi sergius learns a new lesson syama, always thoughtful, took care of the treasure brought from plati, and standing by the door watched his master through the night, wondering what the outcome of his agitation would be. it were useless attempting to describe how the gloomy soul of the jew exercised itself. his now ungovernable passions ran riot within him. he who had seen so much of life, who had made history as the loomsmen of bokhara make carpets, who dealt with kings and kingdoms, and the superlatives of every kind canonized in the human imagination--he to be so demeaned! yet it was not the disrespect to himself personally that did the keenest stinging, nor even the enmity of heaven denying him the love permitted every other creature, bird, beast, crawling reptile, monster of the sea--these were as the ruffling of the weather feathers of a fighting eagle, compared with the torture he endured from consciousness of impotency to punish the wrongdoers as he would like to punish them. that lael was immured somewhere in the city, he doubted not; and he would find her, for what door could stand shut against knocking by a hand with money in it? but might it not be too late? the flower he could recover, but the fragrance and purity of bloom--what of them? how his breast enlarged and shrank under the electric touch of that idea! the devil who did the deed might escape him, for hell was vast and deep; yet the city remained, even the byzantium ancient of days like himself, and he would hold it a hostage for the safe return of his gul bahar. all the night long he walked without pause; it seemed unending to him; at length the faintest rosy tint, a reflection from morning's palette of splendor, lodged on the glass of his eastern window, and woke him from his misery. at the door he found syama. "syama," he said, kindly, "bring me the little case which has in it my choicest drugs." it was brought him, an oblong gold box encrusted with brilliants. opening it, he found a spatula of fine silver on a crystal lid, and under the lid, in compartments, pellets differently colored, one of which he selected, and dropped in his throat. "there, put it back," he said, returning the box to syama, who went out with it. looking then at the brightness brighter growing through the window, "welcome," he continued, speaking to the day as it were a person: "thou wert slow coming, yet welcome. i am ready for this new labor imposed on me, and shall not rest, or sleep, or hunger, or thirst until it is done. thou shalt see i have not lived fourteen centuries for nothing; that in a hunt for vengeance i have not lost my cunning. i will give them till thou hast twice run thy course; then, if they bring her not, they will find the god they worship once more the lord god of israel." syama returned. "thou art a faithful man, syama, and i love thee. get me a cup of the cipango leaves--no bread, the cup alone." while waiting, the prince continued his silent walk; but when the tea was brought, he said: "good! it shall go after the meat of the poppies"--adding to syama--"while i drink, do thou seek uel, and bring him to me." when the son of jahdai entered, the prince looked at him a moment, and asked: "hast thou word of her?" "not a word, not one word," and with the reply the merchant's face sunk until the chin rested on his breast. the hopelessness observable in the voice, joined to the signs of suffering apparent in the manner, was irresistibly touching. another instant, then the elder advanced to him, and took his hand. "we are brothers," he said, with exceeding gentleness. "she was our child--ours--thine, yet mine. she loved us both. we loved her, thou not more, i not less. she went not willingly from us; we know that much, because we know she loved us, me not less, thee not more. a pitfall was digged for her. let us find it. she is calling for us from the bottom--i hear her--now thy name, now mine--and there is no time to be lost. wilt thou do as i say?" "you are strong, and i weak; be it entirely as you say," uel answered, without looking up, for there were tears in his eyes, and a great groan growing in his throat. "well, see thou now. we will find the child, be the pit ever so deep; but--it is well bethinking--we may not find her the undefiled she was, or we may find her dead. i believe she had a spirit to prefer death to dishonor--but dead or dishonored, wilt thou merge thy interest in her into mine?" "yes." "i alone am to decide then what best becomes us to do. is it agreed?" "yes--such faith have i in you." "oh, but understand thee, son of jahdai! i speak not merely as a father, but as an israelite." uel looked at the speaker's face, and was startled. the calm voice, low and evenly toned, to which he had been listening, had not prepared him for the livid pursing he saw under the eyes, and the pupils lurid and unnaturally dilated--effects we know, good reader, of the meat of the poppies assisted by the friendly cipango leaves. yet the merchant replied, strong in the other's strength: "am not i, too, an israelite?--only do not take her from me." "fear not. now, son of jahdai, let us to work. let us first find our pretty child." again uel was astonished. the countenance was bright and beaming with confidence. a world of energy seemed to have taken possession of the man. he looked inspired--looked as if a tap of his finger could fetch the extremities of the continent rolling like a carpet to his feet. "go now, my brother uel, and bring hither all the clerks in the market." "all of them--all? consider the expense." "nay, son of jahdai, be thou a true israelite. in trade, this for that, consider the profits and stand on them closely, getting all thou canst. but here is no trade--here is honor--our honor--thine, mine. shall a christian beat us, and wear the virtue of our daughter as it were a leman's favor? no, by abraham--by the mother of israel"--a returning surge of passion blackened his face again, and quickened his speech--"by rachael and sarah, and all the god-loving asleep in hebron, in this cause our money shall flow like water--even as the euphrates in swollen tide goes bellowing to the sea, it shall flow. i will fill the mouths and eyes as well as the pockets of this byzantium with it, until there shall not be a dune on the beach, a cranny in the wall, a rathole in its accursed seven hills unexamined. yes, the say is mine--so thou didst agree--deny it not! bid the clerks come, and quickly--only see to it that each brings his writing material, and a piece of paper large as his two hands. this house for their assemblage. haste. time flies--and from the pit, out of the shadows in the bottom of the pit, i hear the voice of lael calling now to thee, now to me." uel was not deficient in strength of purpose, nor for that matter in judgment; he went and in haste; and the clerks flocked to the prince, and wrote at his dictation. before half the breakfasts in the city were eaten, vacant places at the church doors, the cheeks of all the gates, and the fronts of houses blazed with handbills, each with a reader before it proclaiming to listening groups: "byzantines! "fathers and mothers of byzantium! "last evening the daughter of uel the merchant, a child of sixteen, small in stature, with dark hair and eyes, and fair to see, was set upon in the garden of the bucoleon, and stolen out of her sedan chair. neither she, nor the bulgarians carrying her have been heard of since. "rewards. "out of love of the child, whose name was lael, i will pay him who returns her to me living or dead " , bezants in gold. "and to him who brings me the abductor, or the name of any one engaged in the crime, with proof to convict him, " , bezants in gold. "inquire of me at uel's stall in the market. "prince of india." thus the jew began his campaign of discovery, meaning to follow it up with punishment first, and then vengeance, the latter in conditional mood. let us not stop to ask about motives. this much is certain, the city arose with one mind. such a running here and there had never been known, except possibly the times enemies in force sat down before the gates. the walls landwardly by the sea and harbor, and the towers of the walls above and below; old houses whose solitariness and decay were suspicious; new houses and their cellars; churches from crypt to pulpit and gallery; barracks and magazines, even the baker's ovens attached to them; the wharves and vessels tied up and the ships at anchor--all underwent a search. hunting parties invaded the woods. scorpions were unnested, and bats and owls made unhappy by daylight where daylight had never been before. convents and monasteries were not exempt. the sea was dragged, and the great moat from the golden gate to the cynegion raked for traces of a new-made grave. nor less were the cemeteries overhauled, and tombs and sarcophagi opened, and saints' rests dug into and profaned. in short, but one property in byzantium was respected--that of the emperor. by noon the excitement had crossed to galata, and was at high tide in the isles of the princes. such power was there in the offer of bezants in gold--six thousand for the girl, five thousand for one of her captors--singly, a fortune to stir the cupidity of a duke--together, enough to enlist a king in the work. and everywhere the two questions--has she been found? and who is the prince of india? poor uel had not space to think of his loss or yield to sorrow; the questions kept him so busy. it must not be supposed now in this all but universal search, nobody thought of the public cisterns. they were visited. frequently through the day parties followed each other to the imperial reservoir; but the keeper was always in his place, cool, wary, and prepared for them. he kept open door and offered no hindrance to inspection of his house. to interrogators he gave ready replies: "i was at home last night from sunset to sunrise. at dark i closed up, and no one could have come in afterwards without my seeing him.... i know the chair of the merchant's daughter. it is the finest in the city. the bulgarians have carried it past my house, but they never stopped.... oh, yes, you are welcome to do with the cistern what you please. there is the doorway to the court, and in the court is the descent to the water." sometimes he would treat the subject facetiously: "if the girl were here, i should know it, and if i knew it--ha, ha, ha!--are bezants in gold by the thousand more precious to you than to me? do you think i too would not like to be rich?--i who live doggedly on three noumias, helped now and then by scanty palm-salves from travellers?" this treatment was successful. one party did insist on going beyond the court. they descended the steps about half way, looked at the great gray pillars in ghostly rows receding off into a blackness of silence thick with damps and cellar smells, each a reminder of contagion; then at the motionless opaque water, into which the pillars sank to an unknown depth: and they shivered, and cried: "ugh! how cold and ugly!" and hastened to get out. undoubtedly appearances helped save the ancient cistern from examination; yet there were other influences to the same end. its vastness was a deterrent. a thorough survey required organization and expensive means, such as torches, boats, fishing tongs and drag-nets; and why scour it at all, if not thoroughly and over every inch? well, well--such was the decision--the trouble is great, and the uncertainty greater. another class was restrained by a sentiment possibly the oldest and most general amongst men; that which casts a spell of sanctity around wells and springs, and stays the hand about to toss an impurity into a running stream; which impels the north american indian to replace the gourd, and the bedouin to spare the bucket for the next comer, though an enemy. in other words, the cistern was in daily use. one can imagine the scene at the prince's through the day. to bring a familiar term into service, his house was headquarters. about eight o'clock the sedan was brought home empty, and without a sign of defacement inside or out. it told no tale. noon, and still no clew. in the afternoon there was an observable cessation of vigor in the quest. thousands broke off, and went about their ordinary business, giving the reason. "which way now?" would be asked them. "home." "what! has she been found?" "not that we know." "ah, you have given up." "yes." "why?" "we are satisfied the bulgarians stole the girl. the turks have her; and now for a third part of either of the rewards he offers, the prince of india, whoever he is, can ransom her. he will have plenty of time. there is no such thing as haste in a harem." by lamplighting in the evening, the capital resumed its customary quiet, and of the turmoil of the day, the rush and eager halloo, the promiscuous delving into secret places, and upturning of things strange and suspicious, there remained nothing but a vast regret--vast in the collective sense--for the rewards lost. quiet crept into headquarters. to the prince's insistence that the hunt go on, he was advised to prosecute the inquest on the other side of the bosphorus. the argument presented him was plausible; either--thus it ran--the bulgarians carried the child away with them or she was taken from them. they were stout men, yet there is no sign of a struggle. if they were killed, we should find their bodies; if they are alive and innocent, why are they not here? they would be entitled to the rewards along with the best of us. seeing the drift, the prince refrained from debate. he only looked more grim and determined. when the house was cleared, he took the floor again fiercely restless as before. later on uel came in, tired, spirit-worn, and apparently in the last stage of despondency. "well, son of jahdai, my poor brother," said the prince, much moved, and speaking tenderly. "it is night, and what bringest thou?" "alas! nothing, except the people say the bulgarians did it." "the bulgarians! would it were so; for look thee, in their hands she would be safe. their worst of villany would be a ransom wrung from us. ah, no! they might have been drawn into the conspiracy; but take her, they did not. how could they have passed the gates unseen? the night was against them. and besides, they have not the soul to devise or dare the deed. this is no common criminal, my brother. when he is found--and he will be, or hell hath entered into partnership with him--thou wilt see a greek of title, bold from breeding and association, behind him an influence to guarantee him against the law and the emperor. of the classes in byzantium to-day, who are the kings? who but the monks? and here is a morsel of wisdom, true, else my experience is a delusion: in decaying and half-organized states, the boldest in defying public opinion are they who have the most to do in making it." "i do not understand you," uel interposed. "thou art right, my brother. i know not why i am arguing; yet i ought not to leave thee in the dark now; therefore i will go a step further. thou art a jew--not a hebrew, or an israelite, mark thee--but in the contemptuous gentile sense, a jew. she, our gentle gul-bahar, hath her beating of heart from blood thou gavest her. i also am a jew. now, of the classes in byzantium, which is it by whom hate of jews is the article of religion most faithfully practised? think if it be not the same from whose shops proceed the right and wrong of the time--the same i myself scarce three days gone saw insult and mortify the man they chose emperor, and not privately, in the depths of a monastery or chapel, but publicly, his court present.... ah, now thou seest my meaning! in plainest speech, my brother, when he who invented this crime is set down before us, look not for a soldier, or a sailor, or one of thy occupation--look not for a beggar, or a laborer, or an islamite--look rather for a greek, with a right from relationship near or remote to summon the whole priestly craft to hold up his hands against us, jews that we are. but i am not discouraged. i shall find her, and the titled outlaw who stole her. or--but threats now are idle. they shall have tomorrow to bring her home. i pray pardon for keeping thee from rest and sleep. go now. in the morning betimes see thou that the clerks come back to me here. i will have need of them again, for"--he mused a moment--"yes, if that i purpose must be, then, the worst betiding us, they shall not say i was hard and merciless, and cut their chances scant." uel was at the door going, when the prince called him back. "wait--i do not need rest. thou dost. is syama there?" "yes." "send him to me." when the slave was come, "go," the master said, "and bring me the golden case." and when it was brought, he took out a pellet, and gave it to uel. "there--take it, and thou shalt sleep sound as the dead, and have never a dream--sound, yet healthfully. to-morrow we must work. to-morrow," he repeated when uel was gone--"to-morrow! till then, eternity." let us now shift the scene to the monastery of the st. james'. it is eight o'clock in the morning--about the time the empty sedan was being brought to the prince's house. sergius had been hearkening for the hegumen's bell, and at the moment we look in upon him, he is with the venerable superior, helping him to breakfast, if a meal so frugal deserves the name. the young russian, it is to be said, retired to his cell immediately upon the conclusion of the festival of flowers the evening before. awaking early, he made personal preparation for the day, and with the brotherhood in the chapel, performed the matinal breviary services, consisting of lauds, psalms, lections and prayers. then he took seat by his superior's door. by and by the bell called him in, and thenceforward he was occupied in the kitchen or at the elder's elbow. in brief, he knew nothing of the occurrence which had so overwhelmed the merchant and the prince of india. the hegumen sat on a broad armless chair, very pale and weak--so poorly, indeed, that the brethren had excused him from chapel duties. having filled a flagon with water, sergius was offering it to him, when the door opened without knock, or other warning, and demedes entered. moving silently to his father, he stooped, and kissed his hand with an unction which brought a smile to the sunken face. "god's benison on you, my boy. i was thinking of the airs of prinkipo or halki, and that they might help me somewhat; but now you are here, i will put them off. bring the bench to my right hand, and partake with me, if but to break a crust." "the crust has the appearance of leaven in it, and you know the party to which i belong. i am not an _azymite_." there was scarcely an attempt to conceal the sneer with which the young man glanced at the brown loaf gracing the platter on the hegumen's knees. seeing then a look of pain on the paternal countenance, he continued: "no, i have had breakfast, and came to see how you are, and to apprise you that the city is being stirred from the foam on top to the dregs at the bottom, all because of an occurrence last evening, so incredible, so strange, so audacious, and so wicked it weakens confidence in society, and almost forces one to look up and wonder if god does not sometimes sleep." the hegumen and his attendant were aroused. both gazed at demedes looking the same question. "i hesitate to tell you, my dear father, of the affair, it is so shocking. the chill of the first hearing has not left me. i am excited body and mind, and you know how faithfully i have tried to school myself against excitement--it is unbecoming--only the weak suffer it. rather than trust myself to the narrative--though as yet there are no details--i plucked a notice from a wall while coming, and as it was the first i had of the news, and contains all i know, i brought it along; and if you care to hear, perhaps our friend sergius will kindly give you the contents. his voice is better than mine, and he is perfectly calm." "yes, sergius will read. give him the paper." thereupon demedes passed to sergius one of the handbills with which the prince of india had sown the city. after the first line, the monk began stammering and stumbling; at the close of the first sentence, he stopped. then he threw a glance at the greek, and from the gaze with which he was met, he drew understanding and self-control. "i ask thy grace, father," he said, raising the paper, and looking at the signature. "i am acquainted with uel the merchant, and with the child said to be stolen. i also know the man whose title is here attached. he calls himself prince of india, but by what right i cannot say. the circumstance is a great surprise to me; so, with thy pardon, i will try the reading again." sergius finished the paper, and returned it to demedes. the hegumen folded his hands, and said: "oh, the flow of mercy cannot endure forever!" then the young men looked at each other. to be surprised when off guard, is to give our enemy his best opportunity. this was the advantage the greek then had. he was satisfied with the working of his scheme; yet one dread had disturbed him through the night. what would the russian do? and when he read the prince's proclamation, and saw the rewards offered, in amounts undreamt of, he shivered; not, as he told the hegumen, from horror at the crime; still less from fear that the multitude might blunder on discovery; and least of all from apprehension of betrayal from his assistants, for, with exception of the cistern-keeper, they were all in flight, and a night's journey gone. be the mass of enemies ever so great, there is always one to inspire us with liveliest concern. here it was sergius. he had come so recently into the world--descent from a monastery in the far north was to the metropolitan much like being born again--there was no telling what he might do. thus moved and uncertain, the conspirator resolved to seek his adversary, if such he were, and boldly try him. in what spirit would he receive the news? that was the thought behind the gaze demedes now bent on the unsophisticated pupil of the saintly father hilarion. sergius returned the look without an effort to hide the pain he really felt. his utmost endeavor was to control his feelings. with no idea of simulation, he wanted time to think. altogether it would have been impossible for him to have chosen a course more perplexing to demedes, who found himself driven to his next play. "you know now," he said to his father, "why i decline to break a crust with you. i must go and help uncover this wicked deed. the rewards are great"--he smiled blandly--"and i should like to win one of them at least--the first one, for i have seen the girl called lael. she interested me, and i was in danger from her. on one occasion"--he paused to throw a glance to sergius--"i even made advances to become acquainted with her, but she repulsed me. as the prince of india says, she was fair to see. i am sure i have your permission to engage in the hunt." "go, and god speed you," the hegumen responded. "thank you; yet another request." he turned to the russian. "now is sergius here tall, and, if his gown belie him not, stout, and there may be need of muscle as well as spirit; for who can tell where our feet will take us in a game like this, or what or whom we may confront? i ask you to permit him to go with me." "nay," said the hegumen, "i will urge him to go." sergius answered simply: "not now. i am under penance, and to-day bound to the third breviary prayers. when they are finished, i will gladly go." "i am disappointed," demedes rejoined. "but i must make haste." he kissed the hegumen's hand and retired; after which, the meal speedily concluded, sergius gathered the few articles of service on the platter, and raised it, but stopped to say: "after prayers, with your consent, reverend father, i will take part in this affair." "thou hast my consent." "it may take several days." "give thyself all the time required. the errand is of mercy." and the holy man extended his hand, and sergius saluted it reverently, and went out. if the young monastic kept not fast hold of the holy forms prescribed immemorially for the third hour's service, there is little doubt he was forgiven in the higher court before which he was supposed present, for never had he been more nearly shaken out of his better self than by the prince's proclamation. he had managed to appear composed while under demedes' observation. in the language of the time, some protecting saint prompted him to beware of the greek, and keeping the admonition, he had come well out of the interview; but hardly did the hegumen's door close behind him before lael's untoward fate struck him with effect. he hurried to his cell, thinking to recover himself; but it was as if he were pursued by a voice calling him, and directly the voice seemed hers, sharp and piercing from terror. a little later he took to answering the appeal--i hear, but where art thou? his agitation grew until the bell summoned him to the chapel, and the sound was gladdening on account of the companionship it promised. surely the voice would be lost in the full-toned responses of the brethren. not so. he heard it even more clearly. then, to place himself certainly beyond it, he begged an ancient worshipper at his side to loan him his triptych. for once, however, the sorrowful figure of the christ on the central tablet was of no avail, hold it close as he might; strange to say, the face of the graven image assumed her likeness; so he was worse off than before, for now her suffering look was added to her sorrowful cry. at last the service was over. rushing back to his cell he exchanged his black gown for the coarse gray garment with which he had sallied from bielo-osero. folding the veil, and putting it carefully away in his hat, he went forth, a hunter as the multitude were hunters; only, as we shall presently see, his zeal was more lasting than theirs, and he was owner of an invaluable secret. on the street he heard everywhere of the rewards, and everywhere the question, has she been found? the population, women and children included, appeared to have been turned out of their houses. the corners were possessed by them, and it will be easy for readers who have once listened to greeks in hot debate to fancy how on this occasion they were heard afar. yet sergius went his way unobservant of the remarks drawn by the elephantine ears of his outlandish hood, his tall form, and impeded step. had one stopped him to ask, where are you going? it is doubtful if he could have told. he had no plan; he was being pulled along by a pain of heart rather than a purpose--moving somnolently through a light which was also a revelation, for now he knew he loved the lost girl--knew it, not by something past, such as recollections of her sweetness and beauty, but by a sense of present bereavement, an agonizing impulsion, a fierce desire to find the robber, a murderous longing the like of which had never assailed him. the going was nearest an answer he could make to the voice calling him, equivalent to, i am coming. he sped through the hippodrome outwalking everybody; then through the enclosure of sancta sophia; then down the garden terraces--oh, that the copse could have told him the chapter it had witnessed!--then up the broad stairway to the promenade, and along it toward port st. julian, never pausing until he was at the bench in the angle of the wall from which he had overheard demedes' story of the plague of crime. now the bench was not in his mind when he started from the monastery; neither had he thought of it on the way, or of the dark history it had helped him to; in a freak, he took the seat he had formerly occupied, placed his arm along the coping of the parapet, and closed his eyes. and strange to say, the conversation of that day repeated itself almost word for word. stranger still, it had now a significancy not then observed; and as he listened, he interpreted, and the fever of spirit left him. about an hour before noon, he arose from the bench like one refreshed by sleep, cool, thoughtful, capable. in the interval he had put off boyishness, and taken on manhood replete with a faculty for worldly thinking that would have alarmed father hilarion. in other words, he was seeing things as they were; that bad and good, for instance, were coexistent, one as much a part of the plan of creation as the other; that religion could only regulate and reform; that the end of days would find good men striving with bad men--in brief, that demedes was performing the role to which his nature and aptitude assigned him, just as the venerable hegumen, his father, was feebly essaying a counterpart. nor was that all. the new ideas to which he had been converted facilitated reflection along the lines of wickedness. in the plague of crime, told the second time, he believed he had found what had befallen lael. demedes, he remembered, gave the historic episode to convince his protesting friend how easy it would be to steal and dispose of her. the argument pointed to the imperial cistern as the hiding-place. sergius' first prompting was to enlist the aid of the prince of india, and go straight to the deliverance; but he had arisen from the bench a person very different from a blind lover. not that his love had cooled--ah, no! but there were things to be done before exposing his secret. thus, his curiosity had never been strong enough to induce him to look into the cistern. was it not worth while to assure himself of the possibility of its conversion to the use suspected? he turned, and walked back rapidly--down the stairway, up the terraces, and through the hippodrome. suddenly he was struck with the impolicy of presenting himself to the cistern-keeper in his present costume--it would be such a help to identification by demedes. so he continued on to the monastery, and resumed the black gown and tall hat. the hegumen's door, which he had to pass in going out again, served him with another admonition. if demedes were exposed through his endeavor, what of the father? if, in the conflict certain of precipitation, the latter sided with his son--and what could be more natural?--would not the brotherhood follow him? how then could he, sergius, a foreigner, young, and without influence, combat a fraternity powerful in the city and most powerful up at blacherne? at this, it must be confessed, the young man's step lost its elasticity; his head sunk visibly, and the love just found was driven to divide its dominion with a well-grounded practical apprehension. yet he walked on, out of the gate, and thence in the direction of the cistern. arrived there, he surveyed the wooden structure doubtfully. the door was open, and just inside of it the keeper sat stick in hand drumming upon the brick pavement, a man of medium height and rather pleasant demeanor. "i am a stranger here," sergius said to him. "the cistern is public, i believe; may i see it?" "it is public, and you may look at it all you want. the door there at the end of the passage will let you into the court. if you have trouble in finding the stairway down, call me." sergius dropped some small coin into the keeper's hand. the court was paved with yellow roman brick, and moderately spacious. an oblong curbing in the centre without rails marked the place of descent to the water. overhead there was nothing to interfere with the fall of light from the blue sky, except that in one corner a shed had been constructed barely sufficient to protect a sedan chair deposited there, its poles on end leant against the wall. sergius noticed the chair and the poles, then looked down over the curbing into a doorway, and saw four stone steps leading to a platform three or four feet square. observing a further descent, he went down to the landing, where he paused long enough to be satisfied that the whole stairway was built into the eastern wall of the cistern. the light was already dim. proceeding carefully, for the stones were slippery, he counted fourteen steps to another landing, the width of the first but quite ten feet long, and slightly submerged with water. here, as he could go no further, he stopped to look about him. it is true there was not much to be seen, yet he was at once impressed with a sense of vastness and durability. a dark and waveless sheet lay stretched before him, merging speedily into general blackness. about four yards away and as many apart, two gigantic pillars arose out of the motionless flood stark and ghostly gray. behind them, suggestive of rows with an aisle between, other pillars were seen, mere upright streaks of uncertain hue fainter growing in the shadowy perspective. below there was nothing to arrest a glance. raising his eyes to the roof above him, out of the semi-obscurity, he presently defined a brick vault springing boldly from the corinthian capitals of the nearest pillars, and he knew straightway the roof was supported by a system of vaults susceptible of indefinite extension. but how was he, standing on a platform at the eastern edge of the reservoir, mighty in so many senses, to determine its shape, width, length? stooping he looked down the vista straining his vision, but there was no opposite wall--only darkness and impenetrability. he filled his lungs trying the air, and it was damp but sweet. he stamped with force--there was a rumble in the vault overhead--that was all. he called: "lael, lael"--there was no answer, though he listened, his soul in his ears. therewith he gave over trying to sound the great handmade cavern, and lingered awhile muttering: "it is possible, it is possible! at the end of this row of pillars"--he made a last vain effort to discover the end--"there may be a house afloat, and she"--he clinched his hands, and shook with a return of murderous passion--"god help her! nay, god help me! if she is here, as i believe, i will find her." in the court he again noticed the sedan in the corner. "i am obliged to you," he said to the keeper by the door. "how old is the cistern?" "constantine begun it, and justinian finished it, they say." "is it in use now?" "they let buckets down through traps in the roof." "do you know how large it is?" [footnote: yere batan serai, or the underground palace, the ancient royal cistern, or cistern of constantine, is in rank, as well as in interest and beauty, the chief byzantine cistern. it is on the right-hand side of the tramway street, west of st. sophia. the entrance is in the yard of a large ottoman house in last street on the right of tramway street before the tramway turns abruptly west (to right) after passing st. sophia. this cistern was built by constantine the great, and deepened and enlarged by justinian the great in , the first year of his reign. it has been in constant use ever since. the water is supplied from unknown and subterranean sources, sometimes rising nearly to the capitals of the columns. it is still in admirable preservation: all its columns are in position, and almost the entire roof is intact. the columns are arranged in twelve rows of twenty-eight, there being in all three hundred and thirty-six, which are twelve feet distant from each other or from the wall. some of the capitals are corinthian; others plain, hardly more than truncated pyramids. the roof consists of a succession of brick vaults. on left side in yard of the large ottoman house already mentioned is a trap-door. one is let down over a rickety ladder about four feet to the top of four high stone steps, which descend on the left to a platform about three and one-half feet square which projects without railing over the water. thence fourteen steps, also without railing, conduct to another platform below, about three and one-half feet wide and ten feet long. sometimes this lower platform and the nearer steps are covered with water, though seldom in summer and early fall. these steps are uneven--in places are broken and almost wanting; and they as well as both platforms are exceedingly slippery. the place is absolutely dark save for the feeble rays which glimmer from the lantern of the guide. one should remember there is no railing or barrier of any sort, and not advance an inch without seeing where he puts his foot. then there is no danger. moreover, the platform below is less slippery than the steps or the platform above. visitors will do well to each bring his own candle or small lantern, not for illumination but for safety. when the visitors have arrived on the lower platform, which is near the middle of the eastern side against the wall, the guide, who has not descended the steps, lights a basket of shavings or other quick combustible on the platform above. the effect is instantaneous and magical. suddenly from an obscurity so profound that only the outline of the nearest columns can be faintly discerned by the flicker of a candle, the entire maze of columns flashes into being resplendent and white. the roof and the water send the light back to each other. not a sound is heard save distant splashes here and there as a bucket descends to supply the necessities of some house above. nowhere can be beheld a scene more weird and enchanting. it will remain printed on the memory when many another experience of stamboul is dim or forgotten. professor grosvenor. constantinople.] the keeper laughed, and pommelled the pavement vigorously: "i was never through it--haven't the courage--nor do i know anybody who has been. they say it has a thousand pillars, and that it is supplied by a river. they tell too how people have gone into it with boats, and never come out, and that it is alive with ghosts; but of these stories i say nothing, because i know nothing." sergius thereupon departed. chapter xxii the prince of india seeks mahommed all the next night, syama, his ear against his master's door, felt the jar of the machine-like tread in the study. at intervals it would slow, but not once did it stop. the poor slave was himself nearly worn out. sympathy has a fashion of burdening us without in the least lightening the burden which occasions it. to-morrows may be long coming, but they keep coming. time is a mill, and to-morrows are but the dust of its grinding. uel arose early. he had slept soundly. his first move was to send the prince all the clerks he could find in the market, and shortly afterwards the city was re-blazoned with bills. "byzantines! "fathers and mothers of byzantium! "lael, the daughter of uel the merchant, has not been found. wherefore i now offer , bezants in gold for her dead or alive, and , bezants in gold for evidence which will lead to the discovery and conviction of her abductors. "the offers will conclude with to-day. "prince of india." there was a sensation when the new placards had been generally read; yet the hunt of the day before was not resumed. it was considered exhausted. men and women poured into the streets and talked and talked--about the prince of india. by ten o'clock all known of him and a great deal more had gone through numberless discussions; and could he have heard the conclusions reached he had never smiled again. by a consensus singularly unanimous, he was an indian, vastly rich, but not a prince, and his interest in the stolen girl was owing to forbidden relations. this latter part of the judgment, by far the most cruel, might have been traced to demedes. in all the city there had not been a more tireless hunter than demedes. he seemed everywhere present--on the ships, on the walls, in the gardens and churches--nay, it were easier telling where he had not been. and by whomsoever met, he was in good spirits, fertile in suggestions, and sure of success. he in fact distinguished himself in the search, and gave proof of a knowledge of the capital amazing to the oldest inhabitants. of course his role was to waste the energy of the mass. in every pack of beagles it is said there is one particularly gifted in the discovery of false scents. such was demedes that first day, until about two o'clock. the results of the quest were then in, and of the theories to which he listened, nothing pleased him like the absence of a suggestion of the second sedan. there were witnesses to tell of the gorgeous chair, and its flitting here and yonder through the twilight; none saw the other. this seems to have sufficed him, and he suddenly gave up the chase; appearing in the garden of the bucoleon, he declared the uselessness of further effort. the jewess, he said, was not in byzantium; she had been carried off by the bulgarians, and was then on the road to some turkish harem. from that moment the search began to fall off, and by evening it was entirely discontinued. upon appearance of the placards the second day, demedes was again equal to the emergency. he collected his brethren in the temple, organized them into parties, and sent them everywhere--to galata, to the towns along the bosphorus, down the western shore of the marmora, over to the islands, and up to the forest of belgrade--to every place, in short, except the right one. and this conduct, apparently sincere, certainly energetic, bore its expected fruit; by noon he was the hero of the occasion, the admiration of the city. when very early in the second day the disinclination of the people to renew the search was reported to the prince of india, he looked incredulous, and broke out: "what! not for ten thousand bezants!--more gold than they have had in their treasury at one time in ten years!--enough to set up three empires of such dwindle! to what is the world coming?" an hour or so later, he was told of the total failure of his second proclamation. the information drove him with increased speed across the floor. "i have an adversary somewhere," he was saying to himself--"an adversary more powerful than gold in quantity. are there two such in byzantium?" an account of demedes' action gave him some comfort. about the third hour, sergius asked to see him, and was admitted. after a simple expression of sympathy, the heartiness of which was attested by his sad voice and dejected countenance, the monk said: "prince of india, i cannot tell you the reasons of my opinion; yet i believe the young woman is a prisoner here in this city. i will also beg you not to ask me where i think she is held, or by whom. it may turn out that i am mistaken; i will then feel better of having had no confidant. with this statement--submitted with acknowledged uncertainty--can you trust me?" "you are sergius, the monk?" "so they call me; though here i have not been raised to the priesthood." "i have heard the poor child speak of you. you were a favorite with her." the prince spoke with trouble. "i am greatly pleased to hear it." the trouble of the prince was contagious, but sergius presently recovered. "probably the best certificate of my sincerity, prince--the best i can furnish you--is that your gold is no incentive to the trial at finding her which i have a mind to make. if i succeed, a semblance of pay or reward would spoil my happiness." the jew surveyed him curiously. "almost i doubt you," he said. "yes, i can understand. avarice is so common, and disinterestedness, friendship, and love so uncommon." "verily, a great truth has struck you early." "well, hear what i have to ask." "speak." "you have in your service an african"-- "nilo?" "that is his name. he is strong, faithful, and brave, qualities i may need more than gold. will you allow him to go with me?" the prince's look and manner changed, and he took the monk's hand. "forgive me," he said warmly--"forgive me, if i spoke doubtfully--forgive me, if i misunderstood you." then, with his usual promptitude, he went to the door, and bade syama bring nilo. "you know my method of speech with him?" the prince asked. "yes," sergius replied. "if you have instructions for him, see they are given in a good light, for in the dark he cannot comprehend." nilo came, and kissed his master's hand. he understood the trouble which had befallen. "this," the prince said to him, "is sergius, the monk. he believes he knows where the little princess is, and has asked that you may go with him. are you willing?" the king looked assent. "it is arranged," the master added to sergius. "have you other suggestion?" "it were better he put off his african costume." "for the greek?" "the greek will excite less attention." "very well." in a short time nilo presented himself in byzantine dress, with exception of a bright blue handkerchief on his head. "now, i pray you, prince, give me a room. i wish to talk with the man privately." the request was granted, the instructions given, and sergius reappeared to take leave. "nilo and i are good friends, prince. he understands me." "he may be too eager. remember i found him a savage." with these words, the prince and the young russian parted. after this nobody came to the house. the excitement had been a flash. now it seemed entirely dead, and dead without a clew. when time goes afoot his feet are of lead; and in this instance his walk was over the prince's heart. by noon he was dreadfully wrought up. "let them look to it, let them look to it!" he kept repeating, sometimes shaking a clinched hand. occasionally the idea to which he thus darkly referred had power to bring him to a halt. "i have an adversary. who is he?" ere long the question possessed him entirely. it was then as if he despaired of recovering lael, and had but one earthly object--vengeance. "ah, my god, my god! am i to lose her, and never know my enemy? action, action, or i will go mad!" uel came with his usual report: "alas! i have nothing." the prince scarcely heard or saw him. "there are but two places where this enemy can harbor," he was repeating to himself--"but two; the palace and"--he brought his hands together vehemently--"the church. where else are they who have power to arrest a whole people in earnest movement? whom else have i offended? ay, there it is! i preached god; therefore the child must perish. so much for christian pity!" all the forces in his nature became active. "go," he said to uel, "order two men for my chair. syama will attend me." the merchant left him on the floor patting one hand with another. "yes, yes, i will try it--i will see if there is such thing as christian pity--i will see. it may have swarmed, and gone to hive at blacherne." in going to the palace, he continually exhorted the porters: "faster, faster, my men!" the officer at the gate received him kindly, and came back with the answer, "his majesty will see you." again the audience chamber, constantine on the dais, his courtiers each in place; again the dean in his role of grand chamberlain; again the prostrations. ceremony at blacherne was never remitted. there is a poverty which makes kings miserable. "draw nearer, prince," said constantine, benignly. "i am very busy. a courier arrived this morning from adrianople with report that my august friend, the sultan amurath, is sick, and his physicians think him sick unto death. i was not prepared for the responsibilities which are rising; but i have heard of thy great misfortune, and out of sympathy bade my officer bring thee hither. by accounts the child was rarely intelligent and lovely, and i did not believe there was in my capital a man to do her such inhuman wrong. the progress of the search thou didst institute so wisely i have watched with solicitude little less than thine own. my officials everywhere have orders to spare no effort or expense to discover the guilty parties; for if the conspiracy succeed once, it will derive courage and try again, thus menacing every family in my empire. if thou knowest aught else in my power to do, i will gladly hear it." the emperor, intent upon his expressions, failed to observe the gleam which shone in the wanderer's eyes, excited by mention of the condition of the sultan. "i will not try your majesty's patience, since i know the responsibilities to which you have referred concern the welfare of an empire, while i am troubled not knowing if one poor soul be dead or alive; yet she was the world to me"--thus the prince began, and the knightly soul of the emperor was touched, for his look softened, and with his hand he gently tapped the golden cone of the right arm of his throne. "that which brought me to your feet," the prince continued, "is partly answered. the orders to your officers exhaust your personal endeavor, unless--unless"-- "speak, prince." "your majesty, i shrink from giving offence, and yet i have in this terrible affair an enemy who is my master. yesterday byzantium adopted my cause, and lent me her eyes and hands; before the sun went down her ardor cooled; to-day she will not go a rood. what are we to think, what do, my lord, when gold and pity alike lose their influence? ... i will not stop to say what he must be who is so much my enemy as to lay an icy finger on the warm pulse of the people. when we who have grown old cast about for a hidden foe, where do we habitually look? where, except among those whom we have offended? whom have i offended? here in the audience you honored me with, i ventured to argue in favor of universal brotherhood in faith, and god the principle of agreement; and there were present some who dealt me insult, and menaced me, until your majesty sent armed men to protect me from their violence. they have the ear of the public--they are my adversaries. shall i call them the church?" constantine replied calmly: "the head of the church sat here at my right hand that day, prince, and he did not interrupt you; neither did he menace you. but say you are right--that they of whom you speak are the church--what can i do?" "the church has thunders to terrify and subdue the wicked, and your majesty is the head of the church." "nay, prince, i fear thou hast studied us unfairly. i am a member--a follower--a subscriber to the faith--its thunders are not mine." a despairing look overcast the countenance of the visitor, and he trembled. "oh, my god! there is no hope further--she is lost--lost!" but recovering directly, he said: "i crave pardon for interrupting your majesty. give me permission to retire. i have much work to do." constantine bowed, and on raising his head, declared with feeling to his officers: "the wrong to this man is great." the wanderer moved backward slowly, his eyes emitting uncertain light; pausing, he pointed to the emperor, and said, solemnly: "my lord, thou hadst thy power to do justice from god; it hath slipped from thee. the choice was thine, to rule the church or be ruled by it; thou hast chosen, and art lost, and thy empire with thee." he was at the door before any one present could arouse from surprise; then while they were looking at each other, and making ready to cry out, he came back clear to the dais, and knelt. there was in his manner and countenance so much of utter hopelessness, that the whole court stood still, each man in the attitude the return found him. "my lord," he said, "thou mightest have saved me--i forgive thee that thou didst not. see--here"--he thrust a hand in the bosom of his gown, and from a pocket drew the great emerald--"i will leave thee this talisman--it belonged to king solomon, the son of david--i found it in the tomb of hiram, king of tyre--it is thine, my lord, so thou fitly punish the robber of the lost daughter of my soul, my gul bahar. farewell." he laid the jewel on the edge of the dais, and rising, betook himself to the door again, and disappeared before the dean was sufficiently mindful of his duty. "the man is mad," the emperor exclaimed. "take up the stone"--he spoke to the dean--"and return it to him to-morrow." [footnote: this identical stone, or one very like it, may be seen in the "treasury" which is part of the old serail in stamboul. it is in the first room of entrance, on the second shelf of the great case of curios, right-hand side.] for a time then the emerald was kept passing from hand to hand by the courtiers, none of whom had ever seen its peer for size and brilliance; more than one of them touched it with awe, for despite a disposition to be incredulous in the matter of traditions incident to precious stones, the legend here, left behind him by the mysterious old man, was accepted--this was a talisman--it had belonged to solomon--it had been found by the prince of india--and he was a prince--nobody but indian princes had such emeralds to give away. but while they bandied the talisman about, the emperor sat, his chin in the palm of his right hand, the elbow on the golden cone, not seeing as much as thinking, nor thinking as much as silently repeating the strange words of the stranger: "thou hadst thy power to do justice from god; it hath slipped from thee. the choice was thine to rule the church or be ruled by it. thou hast chosen, and art lost, and thy empire with thee." was this prophetic? what did it mean? and by and by he found a meaning. the first constantine made the church; now the church will unmake the last constantine. how many there are who spend their youth yearning and fighting to write their names in history, then spend their old age shuddering to read them there! the prince of india was scarcely in his study, certainly he was not yet calmed down from the passion into which he had been thrown at blacherne, when syama informed him there was a man below waiting to see him. "who is he?" the servant shook his head. "well, bring him here." presently a gypsy, at least in right of his mother, and tent-born in the valley of buyukdere, slender, dark-skinned, and by occupation a fisherman, presented himself. from the strength of the odor he brought with him, the yield of his net during the night must have been unusually large. "am i in presence of the prince of india?" the man asked, in excellent arabic, and a manner impossible of acquisition except in the daily life of a court of the period. the prince bowed. "the prince of india who is the friend of the sultan mahommed?" the other inquired, with greater particularity. "sultan mahommed? prince mahommed, you mean." "no--mahommed the sultan." a flash of joy leaped from the prince's eyes--the first of the kind in two days. the stranger addressed himself to explanation. "forgive my bringing the smell of mullet and mackerel into your house. i am obeying instructions which require me to communicate with you in disguise. i have a despatch to tell who i am, and more of my business than i know myself." the messenger took from his head the dirty cloth covering it, and from its folds produced a slip of paper; with a salute of hand to breast and forehead, declarative of a turk to the habit born, he delivered the slip, and walked apart to give opportunity for its reading. this was the writing in free translation: "mahommed, son of amurath, sultan of sultans, to the prince of india. "i am about returning to magnesia. my father--may the prayers of the prophet, almighty with god, preserve him from long suffering!--is fast falling into weakness of body and mind. ali, son of abed-din the faithful, is charged instantly the great soul is departed on its way to paradise to ride as the north wind flies, and give thee a record which abed-din is to make on peril of his soul, abating not the fraction of a second. thou wilt understand it, and the purpose of the sending." the prince of india, with the slip in his hand, walked the floor once from west to east to regain the mastery of himself. "ali, son of abed-din the faithful," he then said, "has a record for me." now the thongs of ali's sandals were united just below the instep with brass buttons; stooping he took off that of the left sandal, and gave it a sharp twist; whereupon the top came off, disclosing a cavity, and a ribbon of the finest satin snugly folded in it. he gave the ribbon to the prince, saying: "the button of the plane tree planted has not in promise any great thing like this i take from the button of my sandal. now is my mission done. praised be allah!" and while the prince read, he recapped the button, and restored it in place. the bit of yellow satin, when unfolded, presented a diagram which the prince at first thought a nativity; upon closer inspection, he asked the courier: "son of abed-din, did thy father draw this?" "no, it is the handiwork of my lord, the sultan mahommed." "but it is a record of death, not of birth." "insomuch is my lord, the sultan mahommed, wiser in his youth than many men in their age"--ali paused to formally salute the opinion. "he selected the ribbon, and drew the figure--did all you behold, indeed, except the writing in the square; that he intrusted to my father, saying at the time: 'the prince of india, when he sees the minute in the square, will say it is not a nativity; have one there to tell him i, mahommed, avouch, 'twice in his life i had the throne from my august father; now has he given it to me again, this third time with death to certify it mine in perpetuity; wherefore it is but righteous holding that the instant of his final secession must be counted the beginning of my reign; for often as a man has back the property he parted from as a loan, is it not his? what ceremony is then needed to perfect his title?" "if one have wisdom, o son of abed-din, whence is it except from allah? let not thy opinion of thy young master escape thee. were he to die to-morrow"-- "allah forbid!" exclaimed ali. "fear it not," returned the prince, smiling at the young man's earnestness: "for is it not written, 'a soul cannot die unless by permission of god, according to a writing definite as to time'? [footnote: koran, iii. .]--i was about to say, there is not in his generation another to lie as close in the bosom of the prophet. where is he now?" "he rides doubtless to adrianople. the moment i set out hither, which was next minute after the great decease, a despatch was started for him by khalil the grand vizier." "knowest thou the road he will take?" "by gallipoli." "behold, ali!"--from his finger the prince took a ring. "this for thy good news. now to the road again, the white castle first. tell the governor there to keep ward to-night with unlocked gates, for i may seek them in haste. then put thyself in the lord mahommed's way coming from gallipoli, and when thou hast kissed his sandals for me, and given him my love and duty, tell him i have perfect understanding of the nativity, and will meet him in adrianople. hast thou eaten and drunk?" "eaten, not drunk, my lord." "come then, and i will put thee in the way to some red wine; for art thou not a traveller?" the son of abed-din saluted, saying simply: "_meshallah!_" and was presently in care of syama; after which the prince took the ribbon to the table, spread it out carefully, and stood over it in the strong light, studying the symbols and writing in the square of [illustration: the diagram.] "it is the nativity of an empire, [footnote: since the conquest of constantinople by mahommed, turkey has been historically counted an empire.] not a man," the prince said, his gaze still on the figure--"an empire which i will make great for the punishment of these robbers of children." he stood up at the last word, and continued, excitedly: "it is the word of god, else it had not come to me now nigh overcome and perishing in bitter waters; and it calls me to do his will. give over the child, it says--she is lost to thee. go up now, and be thou my instrument this once again--i am the i am whom moses knew, the lord god of israel who covenanted with abraham, and with whom there is no forgetting--no, not though the world follow the leaf blown into the mouth of a roaring furnace. i hear, o god! i hear--i am going!" this, it will be observed, is the second of the two days of grace the prince appears to have given the city for the return of lael; and as it is rapidly going without a token of performance, our curiosity increases to know the terrible thing in reserve of which some of his outbursts have vaguely apprised us. a few turns across the floor brought him back to apparent calmness; indeed, but for the fitful light in his eyes and the swollen veins about his temples, it might be supposed he had been successful in putting his distresses by. he brought syama in, and, for the first time in two days, took a seat. "listen, and closely," he said; "for i would be sure you comprehend me. have you laid the sacred books in the boxes?" syama, in his way, answered, yes. "are the boxes secure? they may have to go a long journey." "yes." "did you place the jewels in new bags? the old ones were well nigh gone." "yes." "are they in the gurglet now?" "yes." "you know we will have to keep it filled with water." "yes." "my medicines--are they ready for packing?" "yes." "return them to their cases carefully. i cannot afford to leave or lose them. and the sword--is it with the books?" "yes." "very well. attend again. on my return from the voyage i made the other day for the treasure you have in care"--he paused for a sign of comprehension--"i retained the vessel in my service, and directed the captain to be at anchor in the harbor before st. peter's gate"--another pause--"i also charged him to keep lookout for a signal to bring the galley to the landing; in the day, the signal would be a blue handkerchief waved; at night, a lantern swung four times thus"--he gave the illustration. "now to the purpose of all this. give heed. i may wish to go aboard to-night, but at what hour i cannot tell. in preparation, however, you will get the porters who took me to the palace to-day, and have them take the boxes and gurglet of which i have been speaking to st. peter's gate. you will go with them, make the signal to the captain, and see they are safely shipped. the other servants will accompany you. you understand?" syama nodded. "attend further. when the goods are on the galley, you will stay and guard them. all the other property you will leave in the house here just as it is. you are certain you comprehend?" "yes." "then set about the work at once. everything must be on the ship before dark." the master offered his hand, and the slave kissed it, and went softly out. immediately that he was alone, the prince ascended to the roof. he stood by the table a moment, giving a thought to the many times his gul bahar had kept watch on the stars for him. they would come and go regularly as of old, but she?--he shook with sudden passion, and walked around taking what might have answered for last looks at familiar landmarks in the wide environment--at the old church near by and the small section of blacherne in the west, the heights of galata and the shapely tower northwardly, the fainter glimpses of scutari in the east. then he looked to the southwest where, under a vast expanse of sky, he knew the marmora was lying asleep; and at once his face brightened. in that quarter a bank of lead-colored clouds stretched far along the horizon, sending rifts lighter hued upward like a fan opening toward the zenith. he raised his hand, and held it palm thitherward, and smiled at feeling a breath of air. somehow the cloud associated itself with the purpose of which he was dreaming, for he said audibly, his eyes fiercely lighted: "o god, the proud are risen against me, and the assemblies of violent men have sought after my soul, and have not set thee before them. but now hast thou thy hand under my head; now the wind cometh, and their punishment; and it is for me to scourge them." he lingered on the roof, walking sometimes, but for the most part seated. the cloud in the southwest seemed the great attraction. assured it was still coming, he would drop awhile into deep thought. if there were calls at the street door, he did not hear them. at length the sun, going down, was met and covered out of sight by the curtain beyond the marmora. about the same time a wave of cold february air rolled into the city, and to escape it he went below. the silence there was observable; for now syama had finished, and the house was deserted. through the rooms upper and lower he stalked gloomy and restless, pausing now and then to listen to a sufflation noisier and more portentous than its predecessors; and the moans with which the intermittent blast turned the corners and occasionally surged through the windows he received smilingly, much as hospitable men welcome friends, or as conspirators greet each other; and often as they recurred, he replied to them in the sonorous words of the psalm, and the refrain, "now the wind cometh, and the punishment." when night was fallen, he crossed the street to uel's. after the first greeting, the conversation between the two was remarkable chiefly for its lapses. it is always so with persons who have a sorrow in common--the pleasure is in their society, not in exchange of words. in one thing the brethren were agreed--lael was lost. by and by the prince concluded it time for him to depart. there was a lamp burning above the table; he went to it, and called uel; and when he was come, the elder drew out a sealed purse, saying: "our pretty gul bahar may yet be found. the methods of the lord we believe in are past finding out. if it should be that i am not in the city when she is brought home, i would not she should have cause to say i ceased thinking of her with a love equal to yours--a father's love. wherefore, o son of jahdai, i give you this. it is full of jewels, each a fortune in itself. if she comes, they are hers; if a year passes, and she is not found, they are yours to keep, give or sell, as you please. you have furnished me happiness which this sorrow is not strong enough to efface. i will not pay you, for acceptance in such kind were shameful to you as the offer would be to me; yet if she comes not in the year, break the seal. we sometimes wear rings in help of pleasant memories." "is your going so certain?" uel asked. "o my youngest brother, i am a traveller even as you are a merchant, with the difference, i have no home. so the lord be with you. farewell." then they kissed each other tenderly. "will i not hear from you?" uel inquired. "ah, thank you," and the wanderer returned to him and said, as if to show who was first in his very farewell thought: "thank you for the reminder. if peradventure you too should be gone when she is found, she will then be in want of a home. provide against that; for she is such a sweet stranger to the world." "tell me how, and i will keep your wish as it were part of the law." "there is a woman in byzantium worthy to have good follow her name whenever it is spoken or written." "give me her name, my lord." "the princess irene." "but she is a christian!" uel spoke in surprise. "yes, son of jahdai, she is a christian. nevertheless send lael to her. again i leave you where i rest myself--with god--our god." thereupon he went out finally, and between gusts of wind regained his own house. he stopped on entering, and barred the door behind him; then he groped his way to the kitchen, and taking a lamp from its place, raked together the embers smothering in a brazier habitually kept for retention of fire, and lighted the lamp. he next broke up some stools and small tables, and with the pieces made a pile under the grand stairway to the second floor, muttering as he worked: "the proud are risen against me; and now the wind cometh, and punishment." once more he walked through the rooms, and ascended to the roof. there, just as he cleared the door, as if it were saluting him, and determined to give him a trial of its force, a blast leaped upon him, like an embodiment out of the cloud in full possession of both world and sky, and started his gown astream, and twisting his hair and beard into lashes whipped his eyes and ears with them, and howled, and snatched his breath nearly out of his mouth. wind it was, and darkness somewhat like that egypt knew what time the deliverer, with god behind him, was trying strength with the king's sorcerers--wind and darkness, but not a drop of rain. he grasped the door-post, and listened to the crashing of heavy things on the neighboring roofs, and the rattle of light things for the finding of which loose here and there the gust of a storm may be trusted where eyes are useless. and noticing that obstructions served merely to break the flying forces into eddies, he laughed and shouted by turns so the inmates of the houses near might have heard had they been out as he was instead of cowering in their beds: "the proud are risen against me, and the assembly of violent men have sought after my soul; and now--ha, ha, ha!--the wind cometh and the punishment!" availing himself of a respite in the blowing, he ran across the roof and looked over into the street, and seeing nothing, neither light nor living thing, he repeated the refrain with a slight variation: "and the wind--ha, ha!--the wind _is_ come, and the punishment!"--then he fled back, and down from the roof. and now the purpose in reserve must have revelation. the grand staircase sprang from the floor open beneath like a bridge. passing under it, he set the lamp against the heap of kindling there, and the smell of scorching wood spread abroad, followed by smoke and the crackle and snap of wood beginning to burn. it was not long until the flames, gathering life and strength, were beyond him to stay or extinguish them, had he been taken with sudden repentance. from step to step they leaped, the room meantime filling fast with suffocating gases. when he knew they were beyond the efforts of any and all whom they might attract, and must burst into conflagration the instant they reached the lightest of the gusts playing havoc outside, he went down on his hands and knees, for else it had been difficult for him to breathe, and crawled to the door. drawing himself up there, he undid the bar, and edged through into the street; nor was there a soul to see the puff of smoke and murky gleam which passed out with him. his spirit was too drunken with glee to trouble itself with precautions now; yet he stopped long enough to repeat the refrain, with a hideous spasm of laughter: "and now--ha, ha!--the wind _is_ come, and the fire, and the punishment." then he wrapped his gown closer about his form bending to meet the gale, and went leisurely down the street, intending to make st. peter's gate. where the intersections left openings, the jew, now a fugitive rather than a wanderer--a fugitive nevertheless who knew perfectly where he was going, and that welcome awaited him there--halted to scan the cloudy floor of the sky above the site of the house he had just abandoned. a redness flickering and unsteady over in that quarter was the first assurance he had of the growth of the flame of small beginning under the grand staircase. "now the meeting of wind and fire!--now speedily these hypocrites and tongue-servers, bastards of byzantium, shall know israel has a god in whom they have no lot, and in what regard he holds conniving at the rape of his daughters. blow, wind, blow harder! rise, fire, and spread--be a thousand lions in roaring till these tremble like hunted curs! the few innocent are not more in the account than moths burrowed in woven wool and feeding on its fineness. already the guilty begin to pray--but to whom? blow, o wind! spread and spare not, o fire!" thus he exulted; and as if it heard him and were making answer to his imprecations, a column, pinked by the liberated fire below it, a burst of sparks in its core, shot up in sudden vastness like a titan rushing to seizure of the world; but presently the gale struck and toppled it over toward blacherne in the northwest. "that way points the punishment? i remember i offered him god and peace and good-will to men, and he rejected them. blow, winds! now are ye but breezes from the south, spice-laden to me, but in his ears be as chariots descending. and thou, o fire! forget not the justice to be done, and whose servant thou art. leave heaven to say which is guiltier; they who work at the deflowerment of the innocent, or he who answers no to the everlasting offering him love. unto him be thou as banners above the chariots!" now a noise began--at first faint and uncertain, then, as the red column sprang up, it strengthened, and ere long defined itself--fire, fire! it seemed the city awoke with that cry. and there was peering from windows, opening of doors, rushing from houses, and hurrying to where the angry spot on the floor of the cloud which shut heaven off was widening and deepening. in a space incredibly quick, the streets--those leading to the corner occupied by the jew as well--became rivulets flowing with people, and then blatant rivers. "my god, what a night for a fire!" "there will be nothing left of us by morning, not even ashes." "and the women and children--think of them!" "fire--fire--fire!" exchanges like these dinned the jew until, finding himself an obstruction, he moved on. not a phase of the awful excitement escaped him--the racing of men--half-clad women assembling--children staring wild-eyed at the smoke extending luridly across the fifth and sixth hills to the seventh--white faces, exclamations, and not seldom resort to crucifixes and prayers to the blessed lady of blacherne--he heard and saw them all--yet kept on toward st. peter's gate, now an easy thing, since the thoroughfares were so aglow he could neither stumble nor miss the right one. a company of soldiers running nearly knocked him down; but finally he reached the portal, and passed out without challenge. a brief search then for his galley; and going aboard, after replying to a few questions about the fire, he bade the captain cast off, and run for the bosphorus. "it looks as if the city would all go," he said; and the mariner, thinking him afraid, summoned his oarsmen, and to please him made haste, as he too well might, for the light of the burning projected over the wall, and, flung back from the cloud overhead far as the eye could penetrate, illuminated the harbor as it did the streets, bringing the ships to view, their crews on deck, and galata, wall, housetops and tower, crowded with people awestruck by the immensity of the calamity. when the galley outgoing cleared point serail, the wind and the long swells beating in from the marmora white with foam struck it with such force that keeping firm grip of their oars was hard for the rowers, and they began to cry out; whereupon the captain sought his passenger. "my lord," he said, "i have plied these waters from boyhood, and never saw them in a night like this. let me return to the harbor." "what, is it not light enough?" the sailor crossed himself, and replied: "there is light enough--such as it is!" and he shuddered. "but the wind, and the running sea, my lord"-- "oh! for them, keep on. under the mountain height of scutari the sailing will be plain." and with much wonder how one so afraid of fire could be so indifferent to danger from flood and gale, the captain addressed himself to manoeuvring his vessel. "now," said the jew, when at last they were well in under the asiatic shore--"now bear away up the bosphorus." the light kept following him the hour and more required to make the sweet waters and the white castle; and even there the reflection from the cloud above the ill-fated city was strong enough to cast half the stream in shadow from the sycamores lining its left bank. the governor of the castle received the friend of his master, the new sultan, at the landing; and from the wall just before retiring, the latter took a last look at the signs down where the ancient capital was struggling against annihilation. glutted with imaginings of all that was transpiring there, he clapped his hands, and repeated the refrain in its past form: "now have the winds come, and the fire, and the punishment. so be it ever unto all who encourage violence to children, and reject god." an hour afterwards, he was asleep peacefully as if there were no such thing as conscience, or a misery like remorse. * * * * * shortly after midnight an officer of the guard ventured to approach the couch of the emperor constantine; in his great excitement he even shook the sacred person. "awake, your majesty, awake, and save the city. it is a sea of fire." constantine was quickly attired, and went first to the top of the tower of isaac. he was filled with horror by what he beheld; but he had soldierly qualities--amongst others the faculty of keeping a clear head in crises. he saw the conflagration was taking direction with the wind and coming straight toward blacherne, where, for want of aliment, it needs must stop. everything in its line of progress was doomed; but he decided it possible to prevent extension right and left of that line, and acting promptly, he brought the entire military force from the barracks to cooperate with the people. the strategy was successful. gazing from the pinnacle as the sun rose, he easily traced a blackened swath cut from the fifth hill up to the eastward wall of the imperial grounds; and, in proof of the fury of the gale, the terraces of the garden were covered inches deep with ashes and scoriac-looking flakes of what at sunset had been happy homes. and the dead? ascertainment of the many who perished was never had; neither did closest inquiry discover the origin of the fire. the volume of iniquities awaiting exposure judgment day must be immeasurable, if it is of the book material in favor among mortals. the prince of india was supposed to have been one of the victims of the fire, and not a little sympathy was expended for the mysterious foreigner. but in refuge at the white castle, that worthy greedily devoured the intelligence he had the governor send for next day. one piece of news, however, did more than dash the satisfaction he secretly indulged--uel, the son of jahdai, was dead--and dead of injuries suffered the night of the catastrophe. a horrible foreboding struck the grim incendiary. was the old destiny still pursuing him? was it still a part of the judgment that every human being who had to do with him in love, friendship or business, every one on whom he looked in favor, must be overtaken soon or late with a doom of some kind? from that moment, moved by an inscrutable prompting of spirit, he began a list of those thus unfortunate--lael first, then uel. who next? the reader will remember the merchant's house was opposite the prince's, with a street between them. unfortunately the street was narrow; the heat from one building beat across it and attacked the other. uel managed to get out safely; but recollecting the jewels intrusted to him for lael, he rushed back to recover them. staggering out again blind and roasting, he fell on the pave, and was carried off, but with the purse intact. next day he succumbed to the injuries. in his last hour, he dictated a letter to the princess irene, begging her to accept the guardianship of his daughter, if god willed her return. such, he said, was his wish, and the prince of india's; and with the missive, he forwarded the jewels, and a statement of the property he was leaving in the market. they and all his were for the child--so the disposition ran, concluding with a paragraph remarkable for the confidence it manifested in the christian trustee. "but if she is not returned alive within a year from this date, then, o excellent princess, i pray you to be my heir, holding everything of mine yours unconditionally. and may god keep you!" chapter xxiii sergius and nilo take up the hunt we have seen the result of sergius' interview with the prince of india, and remember that it was yet early in the morning after lael's disappearance when, in company with nilo, he bade the eccentric stranger adieu, and set forth to try his theory respecting the lost girl. about noon he appeared southwest of the hippodrome in the street leading past the cistern-keeper's abode. nilo, by arrangement, followed at a distance, keeping him in sight. by his side there was a fruit peddler, one of the every-day class whose successors are banes of life to all with whom in the modern byzantium a morning nap is the sweetest preparation for the day. the peddler carried a huge basket strapped to his forehead. he was also equipped with a wooden platter for the display of samples of his stock; and it must be said the medlars, oranges, figs of smyrna, and the luscious green grapes in enormous clusters freshly plucked in the vineyards on the asiatic shore over against the isles of the princes, were very tempting; especially so as the hour was when the whole world acknowledges the utility of lunching as a stay for dinner. it is not necessary to give the conversation between the man of fruits and the young russian. the former was endeavoring to sell. presently they reached a point from which the cistern-keeper was visible, seated, as usual, just within the door pommelling the pavement. sergius stopped there, and affected to examine his companion's stock; then, as if of a mind, he said: "oh, well! let us cross the street, and if the man yonder will give me a room in which i can eat to my content, i will buy of you. let us try him." the two made their way to the door. "good day, my friend," sergius said, to the keeper, who recognized him, and rising, returned the salutation pleasantly enough. "you were here yesterday," he said, "i am glad to see you again. come in." "thank you," sergius returned. "i am hungry, and should like some of this man's store; but it is uncomfortable eating in the street; so i thought you might not be offended if i asked a room for the purpose; particularly as i give you a hearty invitation to share the repast with me." in support of the request the peddler held the platter to the keeper. the argument was good, and straightway, assuming the air of a connoisseur, the master of the house squeezed a medlar, and raising an orange to his nose smelt it, calculated its weight, and answered: "why, yes--come right along to my sitting-room. i will get some knives; and when we are through, we will have a bowl of water, and a napkin. things are not inviting out here as they might be." "and the peddler?" sergius inquired. "bring him along. we will make him show us the bottom of his basket. i believe you said you are a stranger?" sergius nodded. "well, i am not," the keeper continued, complacently. "i know these fellows. they all have tricks. bring him in. i have no family. i live alone." the monk acknowledged the invitation, but pausing to allow the peddler to enter first, he at the same time lifted his hat as if to readjust it; then a moment was taken to make a roll of the long fair hair, and tuck it securely under the hat. that finished, he stepped into the passage, and pursued after his host through a door on the left hand; whereupon the passage to the court was clear. now the play with the hat was a signal to nilo. rendered into words, it would have run thus: "the keeper is employed, and the way open. come!" and the king, on the lookout, answered by sauntering slowly down, mindful if he hurried he might be followed, there being a number of persons in the vicinity. at the door, he took time to examine the front of the house; then he, too, stepped into the passage and through it, and out into the court, where, with a glance, he took everything in--paved area, the curbing about the stairway to the water, the faces of the three sides of the square opposite that of the entrance, all unbroken by door, window, or panel, the sedan in the corner, the two poles lashed together and on end by the sedan. he looked behind him--the passage was yet clear--if seen coming in, he was not pursued. there was a smile on his shining black face; and his teeth, serrated along the edges after the military fashion in kash-cush, displayed themselves white as dressed coral. evidently he was pleased and confident. next he went to the curb, shot a quick look down the steps far as could be seen; thence he crossed to the sedan, surveyed its exterior, and opened the door. the interior appearing in good order, he entered and sat down, and closing the door, arranged the curtain in front, drew it slightly aside and peeped out, now to the door admitting from the passage, then to the curbing. both were perfectly under view. when the king issued from the chair, his smile was broader than before, and his teeth seemed to have received a fresh enamelling. without pausing again, he proceeded to the opening of the cistern, and with his hands on the curbing right and left, let himself lightly down on the four stones of the first landing; a moment, and he began descent of the steps, taking time to inspect everything discernible in the shadowy space. at length he stood on the lower platform. he was now in serious mood. the white pillars were wondrous vast, and the darkness--it may be doubted if night in its natural aspects is more impressive to the savage than the enlightened man; yet it is certain the former will take alarm quicker when shut in by walls of artful contrivance. his imagination then peoples the darkness with spirits, and what is most strange, the spirits are always unfriendly. to say now that nilo, standing on the lower platform, was wholly unmoved, would be to deny him the sensibilities without which there can be none of the effects usually incident to courage and cowardice. the vastness of the receptacle stupefied him. the silence was a curtain he could feel; the water, deep and dark, looked so suggestive of death that the superstitious soul required a little time to be itself again. but relief came, and he watched intently to see if there was a current in the black pool; he could discover none; then, having gained all the information he could, he ascended the steps and lifted himself out into the court. a glance through the passage--another at the sky--and he entered the sedan, and shut himself in. the discussion of the fruit in the keeper's sitting-room meantime was interesting to the parties engaged in it. with excellent understanding of nilo's occupation in the court, sergius exerted himself to detain his host--if the term be acceptable--long as possible. fortunately no visitors came. settling the score, and leaving a profusion of thanks behind him, he at length made his farewell, and spent the remainder of the afternoon on a bench in the hippodrome. occasionally he went back to the street conducting to the cistern, and walked down it far enough to get a view of the keeper still at the door. in the evening he ate at a confectionery near by, prolonging the meal till near dusk, and thence, business being suspended, he idled along the same thoroughfare in a manner to avoid attracting attention. still later, he found a seat in the recess of an unused doorway nearly in front of the house of such interest to him. the manoeuvres thus detailed advise the reader somewhat of the particulars of the programme in execution by the monk and nilo; nor that only--they notify him of the arrival of a very interesting part of the arrangement. in short, it is time to say that, one in the recess of the door, the other shut up in the sedan, they are both on the lookout for demedes. would he come? and when? anticipating a little, we may remark, if he comes, and goes into the cistern, nilo is to open the street door and admit sergius, who is then to take control of the after operations. a little before sunset the keeper shut his front door. sergius heard the iron bolt shoot into the mortice. he believed demedes had not seen lael since the abduction, and that he would not try to see her while the excitement was up and the hunt going forward. but now the city was settled back into quiet--now, if she were indeed in the cistern, he would come, the night being in his favor. and further, if he merely appeared at the house, the circumstance would be strongly corroborative of the monk's theory; if he did more--if he actually entered the cistern, there would be an end of doubt, and nilo could keep him there, while sergius was bringing the authorities to the scene. such was the scheme; and he who looks at it with proper understanding must perceive it did not contemplate unnecessary violence. on this score, indeed, the prince of india's significant reminder that he had found nilo a savage, had led sergius to redoubled care in his instructions. the first development in the affair took place under the king's eye. waiting in ambush was by no means new to him. he was not in the least troubled by impatience. to be sure, he would have felt more comfortable with a piece of bread and a cup of water; yet deprivations of the kind were within the expectations; and while there was a hope of good issue for the enterprise, he could endure them indefinitely. the charge given him pertained particularly to demedes. no fear of his not recognizing the greek. had he not enjoyed the delight of holding him out over the wall to be dropped to death? he was eager, but not impatient. his chief dependence was in the sense of feeling, which had been cultivated so the slightest vibration along the ground served him in lieu of hearing. the closing of the front door by the keeper--felt, not heard--apprised him the day was over. not long afterward the pavement was again jarred, bringing a return of the sensations he used to have when, stalking lions in kash-cush, he felt the earth thrill under the galloping of the camelopards stampeded. he drew the curtain aside slightly, just as a man stepped into the court from the passage. the person carried a lighted lamp, and was not demedes. the cistern-keeper--for he it was--went to the curbing slowly, for the advance airs of the gale were threatening his lamp, and dropped dextrously through the aperture to the upper landing. in ambush the king never admitted anything like curiosity. presently he felt the pavement again jar. nobody appeared at the passage. another tremor more decided--then the king stepped softly from the sedan, and stealing barefooted to the curbing looked down the yawning hole. the lamp on the platform enabled him to see a boat drawn up to the lower step, and the stranger in the act of stepping into it. then the lamp was shifted to the bow of the boat--oars taken in hand--a push off, and swift evanishment. we, with our better information of the devices employed, know what a simple trick it was on the keeper's part to bring the vessel to him--he had but to pull the right string in the right direction--but nilo was left to his astonishment. stealing back to his cover, he drew the door to, and struggled with the mystery. afterwhile, the mist dissipated, and a fact arose plainer to him than the mighty hand on his knee. the cistern was inhabited--some person was down there to be communicated with. what should the king do now? the quandary was trying. finally he concluded to stay where he was. the stranger might bring somebody back with him--possibly the lost child--such lael was in his thoughts of her. afterwhile--he had no idea of time--he felt a shake run along the pavement, and saw the stranger appear coming up the steps, lamp in hand. next instant the person crawled out of the curbing, and went into the house through the passage doorway. the king never took eye from the curbing--nobody followed after--the secret of the old reservatory was yet a secret. again nilo debated whether to bring sergius in, and again he decided to stay where he was. meantime the cloud which the prince of india had descried from the roof of his house arrived on the wings of the gale. ere long sergius was shivering in the recess of the door. for relief he counted the beads of his rosary, and there was scarcely a saint in the calendar omitted from his recitals. if there was potency in prayers the angels were in the cistern ministering to lael. the street became deserted. everything living which had a refuge sought it; yet the gale increased: it howled and sang dirges; it started the innumerable loose trifles in its way to waltzing over the bowlders; every hinged fixture on the exposed house-fronts creaked and banged. only a lover would voluntarily endure the outdoors of such a night--a lover or a villain unusually bold. near midnight--so sergius judged--a dull redness began to tinge the cloud overhead, and brightening rapidly, it ere long cast a strong reflection downward. at first he was grateful for the light; afterwhile, however, he detected an uproar distinguishable from the wind; it had no rest or lulls, and in its rise became more and more a human tone. when shortly people rushed past his cover crying fire, he comprehended what it was. the illumination intensified. the whole city seemed in danger. there were women and children exposed; yet here he was waiting on a mere hope; there he could do something. why not go? while he debated, down the street from the direction of the hippodrome he beheld a man coming fast despite the strength of the gusts. a cloak wrapped him from head to foot, somewhat after the fashion of a toga, and the face was buried in its folds; yet the air and manner suggested demedes. instantly the watcher quit arguing; and forgetful of the fire, and of the city in danger, he shrank closer into the recess. the thoroughfare was wider than common, and the person approaching on the side opposite sergius; when nearer, his low stature was observable. would he stop at the cistern-keeper's? now he was at the door! the russian's heart was in his mouth. right in front of the door the man halted and knocked. the sound was so sharp a stone must have been used. immediately the bolt inside was drawn, and the visitor passed in. was it demedes? the monk breathed again--he believed it was--anyhow the king would determine the question, and there was nothing to do meantime but bide the event. the sedan, it hardly requires saying, was a much more comfortable ambush than the recess of the door. nilo merely felt the shaking the gale now and then gave the house. so, too, he bade welcome to the glare in the sky for the flushing it transmitted to the court. only a wraith could have come from or gone into the cistern unseen by him. the clapping to of the front door on the street was not lost to the king. presently the person he had seen in the boat at the foot of the steps again issued from the passage, lamp in hand as before; but as he kept looking back deferentially, a gust leaped down, and extinguished the flame, compelling him to return; whereupon another man stepped out into the court, halting immediately. nilo opened a little wider the gap in the curtain through which he was peeping. it may be well to say here that the newcomer thus unwittingly exposing himself to observation was the same individual sergius had seen admitted into the house. the keeper had taken him to a room for the rearrangement of his attire. standing forth in the light now filling the court, he was still wrapped in the cloak, all except the head, which was jauntily covered with a white cap, in style not unlike a scotch bonnet, garnished with two long red ostrich feathers held in place by a brooch that shot forth gleams of precious stones in artful arrangement. once the man opened the cloak, exposing a vest of fine-linked mail, white with silver washing, and furnished with epaulettes or triangular plates, fitted gracefully to the shoulders. a ruff, which was but the complement of a cape of heavy lace, clothed the neck. to call the feeling which now shot through the king's every fibre a sudden pleasure would scarcely be a sufficient description; it was rather the delight with which soldiers old in war acknowledge the presence of their foemen. in other words, the brave black recognized demedes, and was strong minded enough to understand and appreciate the circumstances under which the discovery was made. if the savage arose in him, it should be remembered he was there to revenge a master's wrongs quite as much as to rescue a stolen girl. moreover, the education he had received from his master was not in the direction of mercy to enemies. the two--demedes and the keeper--lost no time in entering the cistern, the latter going first. when the king thought they had reached the lower platform, he issued from the chair barefooted, and bending over the curbing beheld what went on below. the greek was holding the lamp. the occupation of his assistant was beyond comprehension until the boat moved slowly into view. demedes then set the lamp down, divested himself of his heavy wrap, and taking the rower's seat, unshipped the oars. there was a brief conference; at the conclusion the subordinate joined his chief; whereupon the boat pushed off. thus far the affair was singularly in the line of sergius' anticipations; and now to call him in! there is little room for doubt that nilo was in perfect recollection of the instructions he had received, and that his first intention was to obey them; for, standing by the curbing long enough to be assured the greek was indeed in the gloomy cavern, whence escape was impossible except by some unknown exit, he walked slowly away, and was in the passage door when, looking back, he saw the keeper leaping out into the court. to say truth, the king had witnessed the departure of the boat with misgivings. catching the robbers was then easy; yet rescue of the girl was a different thing. what might they not do with her in the meantime? as he understood his master, her safety was even more in purpose than their seizure; wherefore his impulse was to keep them in sight without reference to sergius. he could swim--yes, but the water was cold, and the darkness terrible to his imagination. it might be hours before he found the hiding-place of the thieves--indeed, he might never overtake them. his regret when he stepped into the passage was mighty; it enables us, however, to comprehend the rush of impetuous joy which now took possession of him. a step to the right, and he was behind the cheek of the door. all unsuspicious of danger, the keeper came on; a few minutes, and he would be in bed and asleep, so easy was he in conscience. the ancient cistern had many secrets. what did another one matter? his foot was on the lintel--he heard a rustle close at his side--before he could dart back--ere he could look or scream, two powerful hands were around his throat. he was not devoid of courage or strength, and resisted, struggling for breath. he merely succeeded in drawing his assailant out into the light far enough to get a glimpse of a giant and a face black and horrible to behold. a goblin from the cistern! and with this idea, he quit fighting, and sank to the floor. nilo kept his grip needlessly--the fellow was dead of terror. here was a contingency not provided for in the arrangement sergius had laid out with such care. and what now? it was for the king to answer. he dragged the victim out in the court, and set a foot on his throat. all the savage in him was awake, and his thoughts pursued demedes. hungering for that life more than this one, he forgot the monk utterly. had he a plank--anything in the least serviceable as a float--he would go after the master. he looked the enclosure over, and the sedan caught his eye, its door ajar. the door would suffice. he took hold of the limp body of the keeper, drew it after him, set it on the seat, and was about wrenching the door away, when he saw the poles. they were twelve or fourteen feet long and lashed together. on rafts not half so good he had in kash-cush crossed swollen streams, paddling with his hands. to take them to the cistern--to descend the steps with them--to launch himself on them--to push out into the darkness, were as one act, so swiftly were they accomplished. and going he knew not whither, but scorning the thought of another man betaking himself where he dared not, sustained by a feeling that he was in pursuit, and would have the advantage of a surprise when at last he overtook the enemy, we must leave the king awhile in order to bring up a dropped thread of our story. chapter xxiv the imperial cistern gives up its secret the reader will return--not unwillingly, it is hoped--to lael. the keeper, on watch for her, made haste to bar the door behind the carriers of the sedan, who, on their part, made greater haste to take boat and fly the city. from his sitting-room he brought a lamp, and opening the chair found the passenger in a corner to appearance dead. the head was hanging low; through the dishevelled hair the slightest margin of forehead shone marble white; a scarce perceptible rise and fall of the girlish bosom testified of the life still there. a woman at mercy, though dumb, is always eloquent. "here she is at last!" the keeper thought, while making a profane survey of the victim.... "well, if beauty was his object--beauty without love--he may be satisfied. that's as the man is. i would rather have the bezants she has cost him. the market's full of just such beauty in health and strength--beauty matured and alive, not wilted like this! ... but every fish to its net, every man to his fate, as the infidels on the other shore say. to the cistern she must go, and i must put her there. oh, how lucky! her wits are out--prayers, tears, resistance would be uncomfortable. may the saints keep her!" closing the door of the sedan, he hurried out into the court, and thence down the cistern stairs to the lower platform, where he drew the boat in, and fixed it stationary by laying the oars across the gunwale from a step. the going and return were quick. "the blood of doves, or the tears of women--i am not yet decided which is hardest on a soul.... come along!... there is a palace at the further end of the road."... he lifted her from the chair. in the dead faint she was more an inconvenient burden than a heavy one. at the curbing he sat her down while he returned for the lamp. the steps within were slippery, and he dared take no risks. to get her into the boat was trying: yet he was gentle as possible--that, however, was from regard for the patron he was serving. he laid her head against a seat, and arranged her garments respectfully. "o sweet mother of blacherne!" he then said, looking at the face for the first time fully exposed. "that pin on the shoulder--heavens, how the stone flashes! it invites me." unfastening the trinket, he secured it under his jacket, then ran on: "she is so white! i must hurry--or drop her overboard. if she dies"--his countenance showed concern, but brightened immediately. "oh, of course she jumped overboard to escape!" there was no further delay. with the lamp at the bow, he pushed off, and rowed vigorously. through the pillared space he went, with many quick turns. it were vain saying exactly which direction he took, or how long he was going; after a time, the more considerable on account of the obstructions to be avoided, he reached the raft heretofore described as in the form of a cross and anchored securely between four of the immense columns by which the roof of the cistern was upheld. still lael slept the merciful sleep. next the keeper carried the unresisting body to a door of what in the feeble light seemed a low, one-storied house--possibly hut were a better word--thence into an interior where the blackness may be likened to a blindfold many times multiplied. yet he went to a couch, and laid her upon it. "there--my part is done!" he muttered, with a long-drawn breath.... "now to illuminate the palace! if she were to awake in this pitch-black"--something like a laugh interrupted the speech--"it would strangle her--oil from the press is not thicker." he brought in the light--in such essential midnight it was indispensable, and must needs be always thought of--and amongst the things which began to sparkle was a circlet of furbished metal suspended from the centre of the ceiling. it proved to be a chandelier, provided with a number of lamps ready for lighting; and when they were all lit, the revelation which ensued while a lesson in extravagance was not less a tribute to the good taste of the reckless genius by which it was conceived. it were long reading the inventory of articles he had brought together there for the edification and amusement of such as might become his idols. they were everywhere apparently--books, pictures, musical instruments--on the floor, a carpet to delight a sultana mother--over the walls, arras of silk and gold in alternate threads--the ceiling an elaboration of wooden panels. by referring to the diagram of the raft, it will be seen one quarter was reserved for a landing, while the others supported what may be termed pavilions, leaving an interior susceptible of division into three rooms. standing under the circlet of light, an inmate could see into the three open quarters, each designed and furnished for a special use; this at the right hand, for eating and drinking; that at the left, for sleeping; the third, opposite the door, for lounging and reading. in the first one, a table already set glittered with ware in glass and precious metals; in the second, a mass of pink plush and fairy-like lace bespoke a bed; in the third were chairs, a lounge, and footrests which had the appearance of having been brought from a ptolemaic palace only yesterday; and on these, strewn with an eye to artistic effect, lay fans and shawls for which the harem-queens of persia and hindostan might have contended. the "crown-jewel" of this latter apartment, however, was undoubtedly a sheet of copper burnished to answer the purpose of a looking-glass with a full-length view. on stands next the mirror, was a collection of toilet necessaries. elsewhere we have heard of a palace of love lying as yet in the high intent of mahommed; here we have a palace of pleasure illustrative of epicureanism according to demedes. the expense and care required to make it an actuality beget the inference that the float, rough outside, splendid within, was not for lael alone. a princess of india might inaugurate it, but others as fair and highborn were to come after her, recipients of the same worship. whosoever the favorite of the hour might be, the three pavilions were certainly the assigned limits of her being; while the getting rid of her would be never so easy--the water flowing, no one knew whence or whither, was horribly suggestive. once installed there, it was supposed that longings for the upper world would go gradually out. the mistress, with nothing to wish for not at hand, was to be a queen, with demedes and his chosen of the philosophic circle for her ministers. in other words, the academic temple in the upper world was but a place of meeting; this was the temple in fact. there the gentle priests talked business; here they worshipped; and of their psalter and litany, their faith and ceremonial practices, enough that the new substitute for religion was only a reembodiment of an old philosophy with the narrowest psychical idea for creed; namely, that the principle of present life was all there was in man worth culture and gratification. the keeper cared little for the furnishments and curios. he was much more concerned in the restoration of his charge, being curious to see how she would behave on waking. he sprinkled her face with water, and fanned her energetically, using an ostrich wing of the whiteness of snow, overlaid about the handle with scarab-gems. nor did he forget to pray. "o holy mother! o sweet madonna of blacherne! do not let her die. darkness is nothing to thee. thou art clothed in brightness. oh, as thou lovest all thy children, descend hither, and open her eyes, and give her speech!" the man was in earnest. greatly to his delight, he beheld the blood at length redden the pretty mouth, and the eyelids begin to tremble. then a long, deep inhalation, and an uncertain fearful looking about; first at the circlet of the lamps, and next at the keeper, who, as became a pious byzantine, burst into exclamation: "oh holy mother! i owe you a candle!" directly, having risen to a sitting posture, lael found her tongue: "you are not my father uel, or my father the prince of india?" "no," he returned, plying the fan. "where are they? where is sergius?" "i do not know." "who are you?" "i am appointed to see that no harm comes to you." this was intended kindly enough; it had, however, the opposite effect. she arose, and with both hands holding the hair from her eyes, stared wildly at objects in the three rooms, and fell to the couch again insensible. and again the water, the ostrich-wing, and the prayer to the lady of blacherne--again an awakening. "where am i?" she asked. "in the palace of"-- he had not time to finish; with tears, and moans, and wringing of hands she sat up: "oh, my father! oh, that i had heeded him! ... you will take me to him, will you not? he is rich, and loves me, and he will give you gold and jewels until you are rich. only take me to him.... see--i am praying to you!"--and she cast herself at his feet. now the keeper was not used to so much loveliness in great distress, and he moved away; but she tried to follow him on her knees, crying: "oh, as you hope mercy for yourself, take me home!" and beginning to doubt his strength, he affected harshness. "it is useless praying to me. i could not take you out if your father rained gold on me for a month--i could not if i wished to.... be sensible, and listen to me." "then you did not bring me here." "listen to me, i say.... you will get hungry and thirsty--there are bread, fruit, and water and wine--and when you are sleepy, yonder is the bed. use your eyes, and you are certain to find in one room or the other everything you can need; and whatever you put hand on is yours. only be sensible, and quit taking on so. quit praying to me. prayer is for the madonna and the blessed saints. hush and hear. no? well, i am going now." "going?--and without telling me where i am? or why i was brought here? or by whom? oh, my god!" she flung herself on the floor distracted; and he, apparently not minding, went on: "i am going now, but will come back for your orders in the morning, and again in the evening. do not be afraid; it is not intended to hurt you; and if you get tired of yourself, there are books; or if you do not read, maybe you sing--there are musical instruments, and you can choose amongst them. now i grant you i am not a waiting-maid, having had no education in that line; still, if i may advise, wash your face, and dress your hair, and be beautiful as you can, for by and by he will come"-- "who will come?" she asked, rising to her knees, and clasping her hands. the sight was more than enough for him. he fled incontinently, saying: "i will be back in the morning." as he went he snatched up the indispensable lamp; outside, he locked the door; then rowed away, repeating, "oh, the blood of doves and the tears of women!" left thus alone, the unfortunate girl lay on the floor a long time, sobbing, and gradually finding the virtue there is in tears--especially tears of repentance. afterwhile, with the return of reason--meaning power to think--the silence of the place became noticeable. listening closely, she could detect no sign of life--nothing indicative of a street, or a house adjoining, or a neighbor, or that there was any outdoors about her at all. the noise of an insect, the note of a bird, a sough of wind, the gurgle of water, would have relieved her from the sense of having in some way fallen off the earth, and been caught by a far away uninhabited planet. that would certainly have been hard; but worse--the idea of being doomed to stay there took possession of her, and becoming intolerable, she walked from room to room, and even tried to take interest in the things around. will it ever be that a woman can pass a mirror without being arrested by it? before the tall copper plate she finally stopped. at first, the figure she saw startled her. the air of general discomfiture--hair loose, features tear-stained, eyes red and swollen, garments disarranged--made it look like a stranger. the notion exaggerated itself, and further on she found a positive comfort in the society of the image, which not only looked somebody else, but more and more somebody else who was lost like herself, and, being in the same miserable condition, would be happy to exchange sympathy for sympathy. now the spectacle of a person in distress is never pleasant; wherefore permission is begged to dismiss the passage of that night in the cistern briefly as possible. from the couch to the mirror; fearing now, then despairing; one moment calling for help, listening next, her distracted fancy caught by an imaginary sound; too much fevered to care for refreshments; so overwhelmed by the awful sense of being hopelessly and forever lost, she could neither sleep nor control herself mentally. thus tortured, there were no minutes or hours to her, only a time, that being a peculiarity of the strange planet her habitat. to be sure, she explored her prison intent upon escape, but was as often beaten back by walls without window, loophole or skylight--walls in which there was but one door, fastened outside. the day following was to the captive in nothing different from the night--a time divisionless, and filled with fear, suspense, and horrible imaginings--a monotony unbroken by a sound. if she could have heard a bell, though ever so faint, or a voice, to whomsoever addressed, it would yet prove her in an inhabited world--nay, could she but have heard a cricket singing! in the morning the keeper kept his appointment. he came alone and without business except to renew the oil in the lamps. after a careful survey of the palace, as he called it, probably in sarcasm, and as he was about to leave, he offered, if she wanted anything, to bring it upon his return. was there ever prisoner not in want of liberty? the proposal did but reopen the scene of the evening previous; and he fled from it, repeating as before, "oh, the blood of doves and the tears of women!" in the evening he found her more tractable; so at least he thought; and she was in fact quieter from exhaustion. none the less he again fled to escape the entreaties with which she beset him. she took to the couch the second night. the need of nature was too strong for both grief and fear, and she slept. of course she knew not of the hunt going on, or of the difficulties in the way of finding her; and in this ignorance the sensation of being lost gradually yielded to the more poignant idea of desertion. where was sergius? would there ever be a fitter opportunity for display of the superhuman intelligence with which, up to this time, she had invested her father, the prince of india? the stars could tell him everything; so, if now they were silent respecting her, it could only be because he had not consulted them. situations such as she was in are right quarters of the moon for unreasonable fantasies; and she fell asleep oppressed by a conviction that all the friendly planets, even jupiter, for whose appearance she had so often watched with the delight of a lover, were hastening to their houses to tell him where she was, but for some reason he ignored them. still later, she fell into a defiant sullenness, one of the many aspects of despair. in this mood, while lying on the couch, she heard the sound of oars, and almost immediately after felt the floor jar. she sat up, wondering what had brought the keeper back so soon. steps then approached the door; but the lock there proving troublesome, suggested one unaccustomed to it; whereupon she remembered the rude advice to wash her face and dress her hair, for by and by somebody was coming. "now," she thought, "i shall learn who brought me here, and why." a hope returned to her. "oh, it may be my father has at last found me!" she arose--a volume of joy gathered in her heart ready to burst into expression--when the door was pushed open, and demedes entered. we know the figure he thus introduced to her. with averted face he reinserted the key in the lock. she saw the key, heavy enough in emergency for an aggressive weapon--she saw a gloved hand turn it, and heard the bolt plunge obediently into its socket--and the flicker of hope went out. she sunk upon the couch again, sullenly observant. the visitor--at first unrecognized by her--behaved as if at home, and confident of an agreeable reception. having made the door safe on the outside, he next secured it inside, by taking the key out. still averting his face, he went to the mirror, shook the great cloak from his shoulders, and coolly surveyed himself, turning this way and that. he rearranged his cape, took off the cap, and, putting the plumes in better relation, restored it to his head--thrust his gloves on one side under a swordless belt, and the ponderous key under the same belt but on the other side, where it had for company a straight dagger of threatening proportions. lael kept watch on these movements, doubtful if the stranger were aware of her presence. uncertainty on that score was presently removed. turning from the mirror, he advanced slowly toward her. when under the circlet, just at the point where the light was most favorable for an exhibition of himself, he stopped, doffed the cap, and said to her: "the daughter of the prince of india cannot have forgotten me." now if, from something said in this chronicle, the reader has been led to exalt the little jewess into a bradamante, it were just to undeceive him. she was a woman in promise, of fair intellect subordinate to a pure heart. any great thing said or done by her would be certain to have its origin in her affections. the circumstances in which she would be other than simple and unaffected are inconceivable. in the beautiful armor, demedes was handsome, particularly as there was no other man near to force a comparison of stature; yet she did not see any of his braveries--she saw his face alone, and with what feeling may be inferred from the fact that she now knew who brought her where she was, and the purpose of the bringing. instead of replying, she shrank visibly further and further from him, until she was an apt reminder of a hare cornered by a hound, or a dove at last overtaken by a hawk. the suffering she had undergone was discernible in her appearance, for she had not taken the advice of the keeper; in a word, she was at the moment shockingly unlike the lissome, happy, radiant creature whom we saw set out for a promenade two days before. her posture was crouching; the hair was falling all ways; both hands pressed hard upon her bosom; and the eyes were in fixed gaze, staring at him as at death. she was in the last extremity of fear, and he could not but see it. "do not be afraid," he said, hurriedly, and in a tone of pity. "you were never safer than you are here--i swear it, o princess!" observing no change in her or indication of reply, he continued: "i see your fear, and it may be i am its object. let me come and sit by you, and i will explain everything--where you are--why you were brought here--and by whom.... or give me a place at your feet.... i will not speak for myself, except as i love you--nay, i will speak for love." still not a word from her--only a sullenness in which he fancied there was a threat.... a threat? what could she do? to him, nothing; he was in shirt of steel; but to herself much.... and he thought of suicide, and then of--madness. "tell me, o princess, if you have received any disrespect since you entered this palace? there is but one person from whom it could have proceeded. i know him; and if, against his solemn oath, he has dared an unseemly look or word--if he has touched you profanely--you may choose the dog's death he shall die, and i will give it him. for that i wear this dagger. see!" in this he was sincere; yet he shall be a student very recently come to lessons in human nature who fails to perceive the reason of his sincerity; possibly she saw it; we speak with uncertainty, for she still kept silent. again he cast about to make her speak. reproach, abuse, rage, tears in torrents, fury in any form were preferable to that look, so like an animal's conscious of its last moment. "must i talk to you from this distance? i can, as you see, but it is cruel; and if you fear me"--he smiled, as if the idea were amusing. "oh! if you still fear me, what is there to prevent my compelling the favors i beg?" the menace was of no more effect than entreaty. paralysis of spirit from fright was new to him; yet the resources of his wit were without end. going to the table, he looked it over carefully. "what!" he cried, turning to her with well-dissembled astonishment. "hast thou eaten nothing? two days, and not a crumb of bread in thy pretty throat?--not a drop of wine? this shall not go on--no, by all the goodness there is in heaven!" on a plate he then placed a biscuit and a goblet filled with red wine of the clearest sparkle, and taking them to her, knelt at her feet. "i will tell you truly, princess--i built this palace for you, and brought you here under urgency of love. god deny me forever, if i once dreamed of starving you! eat and drink, if only to give me ease of conscience." he offered the plate to her. she arose, her face, if possible, whiter than before. "do not come near me--keep off!" her voice was sharp and high. "keep off!... or take me to my father's house. this palace is yours--you have the key. oh, be merciful!" madness was very near her. "i will obey you in all things but one," he said, and returned the plate to the table, content with having brought her to speech. "in all things but one," he repeated peremptorily, standing under the circlet. "i will not take you to your father's house. i brought you here to teach you what i would never have a chance to teach you there--that you are the idol for whom i have dared every earthly risk, and imperilled my soul.... sit down and rest yourself. i will not come near you to-night, nor ever without your consent.... yes, that is well. and now you are seated, and have shown a little faith in my word--for which i thank you and kiss your hand--hear me further and be reasonable.... you shall love me." into this declaration he flung all the passion of his nature. "no, no! draw not away believing yourself in peril. you shall love me, but not as a scourged victim. i am not a brute. i may be won too lightly, by a voice, by bright eyes, by graces of person, by faithfulness where faithfulness is owing, by a soul created for love and aglow with it as a star with light; but i am not of those who kill the beloved, and justify the deed, pleading coldness, scorn, preference for another. be reasonable, i say, o princess, and hear how i will conquer you.... are not the better years of life ours? why should i struggle or make haste, or be impatient? are you not where i have chosen to put you?--where i can visit you day and night to assure myself of your health and spirits?--all in the world, yet out of its sight?... you may not know what a physician time is. i do. he has a medicine for almost every ailment of the mind, every distemper of the soul. he may not set my lady's broken finger, but he will knit it so, when sound again, the hurt shall be forgotten. he drops a month--in extreme cases, a year or years--on a grief, or a bereavement, and it becomes as if it had never been. so he lets the sun in on prejudices and hates, and they wither, and where they were, we go and gather the fruits and flowers of admiration, respect--ay, princess, of love. now, in this cause, i have chosen time for my best friend; he and i will come together, and stay"-- the conclusion of the speech must be left to the reader, for with the last word some weighty solid crashed against the raft until it trembled throughout. demedes stopped. involuntarily his hand sought the dagger; and the action was a confession of surprise. an interval of quiet ensued; then came a trial of the lock--at first, gentle--another, with energy--a third one rattled the strong leaf in its frame. "the villain! i will teach him--no, it cannot be--he would not dare--and besides i have the boat." as demedes thus acquitted the keeper, he cast a serious glance around him, evidently in thought of defence. again the raft was shaken, as if by feet moving rapidly under a heavy burden. crash!--and the door was splintered. once more--crash!--and door and framework shot in--a thunderbolt had not wrought the wreck more completely. justice now to the greek. though a genius all bad, he was manly. retiring to a position in front of lael, he waited, dagger in hand. and he had not breathed twice, before nilo thrust his magnificent person through the breach, and advanced under the circlet. returning now. had the king been in toils, and hard pressed, he would not have committed himself to the flood and darkness of the cistern in the manner narrated; at least the probabilities are he would have preferred battle in the court, and light, though of the city on fire, by which to conquer or die. but his blood was up, and he was in pursuit, not at bay; to the genuine fighting man, moreover, a taste of victory is as a taste of blood to tigers. he was not in humor to bother himself with practical considerations such as--if i come upon the hiding-place of the greek, how, being deaf and dumb, am i to know it? of what use are eyes in a hollow rayless as this? whether he considered the obvious personal dangers of the adventure--drowning, for instance--is another matter. the water was cold, and his teeth chattered; for it will be recollected he was astride the poles of the sedan, lashed together. that his body was half submerged was a circumstance he little heeded, since it was rather helpful than otherwise to the hand strokes with which he propelled himself. nor need it be supposed he moved slowly. the speed attainable by such primitive means in still water is wonderful. going straight from the lower platform of the stair, he was presently in total darkness. with a row of columns on either hand, he managed to keep direction; and how constantly and eagerly he employed the one available sense left him may be imagined. his project was to push on until stayed by a boundary wall--then he would take another course, and so on to the end. the enemy, by his theory, was in a boat or floating house. hopeful, determined, inspirited by the prospect of combat, he made haste as best he could. at last, looking over his left shoulder, he beheld a ruddy illumination, and changed direction thither. presently he swept into the radius of a stationary light, broken, of course, by intervening pillars and the shadows they cast; then, at his right, a hand lamp in front of what had the appearance of a house rising out of the water, startled him. was it a signal? the king approached warily, until satisfied no ambush was intended--until, in short, the palace of the greek was before him. it was his then to surprise; so he drove the ends of the poles against the landing with force sufficient, as we have seen, to interrupt demedes explaining how he meant to compel the love of lael. with all his nicety of contrivance, the greek had at the last moment forgotten to extinguish the lamp or take it into the house with him. the king recognized it and the boat, yet circumspectly drew his humble craft up out of the water. he next tried the lock, and then the door; finally he used the poles as a ram. taking stand under the circlet, there was scant room between it and the blue handkerchief on his head; while the figure he presented, nude to the waist, his black skin glistening with water, his trousers clinging to his limbs, his nostrils dilating, his eyes jets of flame, his cruel white teeth exposed--this figure the dullest fancy can evoke--and it must have appeared to the guilty greek a very genius of vengeance. withal, however, the armor and the dagger brought demedes up to a certain equality; and, as he showed no flinching, the promise of combat was excellent. it happened, however, that while the two silently regarded each other, lael recognized the king, and unable to control herself, gave a cry of joy, and started to him. instinctively demedes extended a hand to hold her back; the giant saw the opening; two steps so nearly simultaneous the movement was like a leap--and he had the wrist of the other's armed hand in his grip. words can convey no idea of the outburst attending the assault--it was the hoarse inarticulate falsetto of a dumb man signalizing a triumph. if the reader can think of a tiger standing over him, its breath on his cheek, its roar in his ears, something approximate to the effect is possible. the greek's cap fell off, and the dagger rattled to the floor. his countenance knit with sudden pain--the terrible grip was crushing the bones--yet he did not submit. with the free hand, he snatched the key from his belt, and swung it to strike--the blow was intercepted--the key wrenched away. then demedes' spirit forsook him--mortal terror showed in his face turned gray as ashes, and in his eyes, enlarged yet ready to burst from their sockets. he had not the gladiator's resignation under judgment of death. "save me, o princess, save me!... he is killing me.... my god--see--hear--he is crushing my bones!... save me!" lael was then behind the king, on her knees, thanking heaven for rescue. she heard the imploration, and, woman-like, sight of the awful agony extinguished the memory of her wrongs. "spare him, nilo, for my sake, spare him!" she cried. it was not alone her wrongs that were forgotten--she forgot that the avenger could not hear. had he heard, it is doubtful if he had obeyed; for we again remark he was fighting less for her than for his master--or rather for her in his master's interest. and besides, it was the moment of victory, when, of all moments, the difference between the man born and reared under christian influences and the savage is most impressible. while she was entreating him, he repeated the indescribable howl, and catching demedes bore him to the door and out of it. at the edge of the landing, he twisted his fingers in the long locks of the screaming wretch, whose boasted philosophy was of so little worth to him now that he never thought of it--then he plunged him in the water, and held him under until--enough, dear reader! lael did not go out. the inevitable was in the negro's face. retreating to the couch, she there covered her ears with her hands, trying to escape the prayers the doomed man persisted to the last in addressing her. by and by nilo returned alone. he took the cloak from the floor, wrapped her in it, and signed her to go with him; but the distresses she had endured, together with the horrors of the scene just finished, left her half fainting. in his arms she was a child. almost before she knew it, he had placed her in the boat. with a cord found in the house, he tied the poles behind the vessel, and set out to find the stairs, the tell-tale lamp twinkling at the bow. safely arrived there, the good fellow carried his fair charge up the steps to the court--descending again, he brought the poles--going back once more, he drew the boat on the lower platform. then to hasten to the street door, unbar it, and admit sergius were scarce a minute's work. the monk's amazement and delight at beholding lael, and hers at sight of him, require no labored telling. at that meeting, conventionalities were not observed. he carried her into the passage, and gave her the keeper's chair; after which, reminded of the programme so carefully laid out by him, he returned with nilo to the court, where the illumination in the sky still dropped its relucent flush. turning the king face to him he asked: "where is the keeper?" the king walked to the sedan, opened the door, and dragging the dead man forth, flung him sprawling on the pavement. sergius stood speechless, seeing what the victor had not--arrests, official inquests, and the dread machinery of the law started, with results not in foresight except by heaven. before he had fairly recovered, nilo had the sedan out and the poles fixed to it, and in the most cheerful, matter-of-fact manner signed him to take up the forward ends. "where is the greek?" the monk asked. that also the king managed to answer. "in the cistern--drowned!" exclaimed sergius, converting the reply into words. the king drew himself up proudly. "o heavens! what will become of us?" the exclamation signified a curtain rising upon a scene of prosecution against which the christian covered his face with his hands.... again nilo brought him back to present duty.... in a short time lael was in the chair, and they bearing her off. sergius set out first for uel's house. the time was near morning; but for the conflagration the indications of dawn might have been seen in the east. he was not long in getting to understand the awfulness of the calamity the city had suffered, and that, with thousands of others, the dwellings of uel and the prince of india were heaps of ashes on which the gale was expending its undiminished strength. what was to be done with lael? this sergius answered by leading the way to the town residence of the princess irene. there the little jewess was received, while he took boat and hurried to therapia. the princess came down, and under her roof, lael found sympathy, rest, and safety. in due time also uel's last testament reached her, with the purse of jewels left by the prince of india, and she then assumed guardianship of the bereaved girl. book v mirza chapter i a cold wind from adrianople it is now the middle of february, . constantine has been emperor a trifle over three years, and proven himself a just man and a conscientious ruler. how great he is remains for demonstration, since nothing has occurred to him--nothing properly a trial of his higher qualities. in one respect the situation of the emperor was peculiar. the highway from gallipoli to adrianople, passing the ancient capital on the south, belonged to the turks, and they used it for every purpose--military, commercial, governmental--used it as undisputedly within their domain, leaving constantine territorially surrounded, and with but one neighbor, the sultan amurath. age had transformed the great moslem; from dreams of conquest, he had descended to dreams of peace in shaded halls and rose-sprent gardens, with singers, story-tellers, and philosophers for companions, and women, cousins of the houris, to carpet the way to paradise; but for george castriot, [footnote: iskander-beg--scanderbeg. _vide_ gibbon's _roman empire._] he had abandoned the cimeter. keeping terms of amity with such a neighbor was easy--the emperor had merely to be himself peaceful. moreover, when john palaeologus died, the succession was disputed by demetrius, a brother to constantine. amurath was chosen arbitrator, and he decided in favor of the latter, placing him under a bond of gratitude. thus secure in his foreign relations, the emperor, on taking the throne, addressed himself to finding a consort; of his efforts in that quest the reader is already informed, leaving it to be remarked that the georgian princess at last selected for him by phranza died while journeying to constantinople. this, however, was business of the emperor's own inauguration, and in point of seriousness could not stand comparison with another affair imposed upon him by inheritance--keeping the religious factions domiciled in the capital from tearing each other to pieces. the latter called for qualities he does not seem to have possessed. he permitted the sectaries to bombard each other with sermons, bulletins and excommunications which, on the ground of scandal to religion, he should have promptly suppressed; his failure to do so led to its inevitable result--the sectaries presently dominated him. now, however, the easy administration of the hitherto fortunate emperor is to vanish; two additional matters of the gravest import are thrust upon him simultaneously, one domestic, the other foreign; and as both of them become turning points in our story, it is advisable to attend to them here. when the reins of government fell from the hands of amurath, they were caught up by mahommed; in other words, mahommed is sultan, and the old regime, with its friendly policies and stately courtesies, is at an end, imposing the necessity for a recast of the relations between the empires. what shall they be? such is the foreign question. obviously, the subject being of vital interest to the greek, it was for him to take the initiative in bringing about the definitions desired. with keen appreciation of the danger of the situation he addressed himself to the task. replying to a request presented through the ambassador resident at adrianople, mahommed gave him solemn assurances of his disposition to observe every existing treaty. the response seems to have made him over-confident. into the gilded council chamber at blacherne he drew his personal friends and official advisers, and heard them with patience and dignity. at the close of a series of deliberative sessions which had almost the continuity of one session, two measures met his approval. of these, the first was so extraordinary it is impossible not to attribute its suggestion to phranza, who, to the immeasurable grief and disgust of our friend the venerable dean, was now returned, and in the exercise of his high office of grand chamberlain. allusion has been already made to the religious faith of the mother of mahommed. [footnote: "for it was thought that his (amurath's) eldest son mahomet, after the death of his father, would have embraced the christian religion, being in his childhood instructed therein, as was supposed, by his mother, the daughter of the prince of servia, a christian."--knolles' _turk. hist._, , vol. i. "he (mahommed) also entered into league with constantinus palaeologus, the emperor of constantinople, and the other princes of grecia; as also with the despot of servia, his grandfather by the mother's side, as some will have it; howbeit some others write that the despot his daughter, amurath his wife (the despot's daughter, amurath's wife) was but his mother-in-law, whom he, under colour of friendship, sent back again unto her father, after the death of amurath, still allowing her a princely dowery."--_ibid_. . on this very interesting point both von hammer and gibbon are somewhat obscure; the final argument, however, is from phranza: "after the taking of constantinople, she (the princess) fled to mahomet ii." (gibbon's _rom. emp._, note , .) the action is significant of a mother. mothers-in-law are not usually so doting.] the daughter of a servian prince, she is supposed to have been a christian. after the interment of amurath, she had been returned to her native land. her age was about fifty. clothed with full powers, the grand chamberlain was despatched to adrianople to propose a marriage between his majesty, the emperor, and the sultana mother. the fears and uncertainties besetting the greek must have been overwhelming. the veteran diplomat was at the same time entrusted with another affair which one would naturally think called for much less delicacy in negotiation. there was in constantinople then a refugee named orchan, of whose history little is known beyond the fact that he was a grandson of sultan solyman. sometime presumably in the reign of john palaeologus, the prince appeared in the greek capital as a pretender to the sultanate; and his claim must have had color of right, at least, since he became the subject of a treaty between amurath and his byzantine contemporary, the former binding himself to pay the latter an annual stipend in aspers in consideration of the detention of the fugitive. with respect to this mysterious person, the time was favorable, in the opinion of the council, for demanding an increase of the stipend. instructions concerning the project were accordingly delivered to lord phranza. the high commissioner was received with flattering distinction at adrianople. he of course presented himself first to the grand vizier, kalil pacha, of whom the reader may take note, since, aside from his reappearances in these pages, he is a genuine historic character. to further acquaintance with him, it may be added that he was truly a veteran in public affairs, a member of the great family to which the vizierat descended almost in birthright, and a friend to the greeks, most likely from long association with amurath, although he has suffered severe aspersion on their account. kalil advised phranza to drop the stipend. his master, he said, was not afraid of orchan, if the latter took the field as an open claimant, short work would be made of him. the warning was disregarded. phranza submitted his proposals to mahommed directly, and was surprised by his gentleness and suavity. there was no scene whatever. on the contrary, the marriage overture was forwarded to the sultana with every indication of approval, nor was the demand touching the stipend rejected; it was simply deferred. phranza lingered at the turkish capital, pleased with the attentions shown him, and still more with the character of the sultan. in the judgment of the envoy the youthful monarch was the incarnation of peace. what time he was not mourning the loss of his royal father, he was studying designs for a palace, probably the watch tower of the world (_jehan numa_), which he subsequently built in adrianople. well for the trusting master in blacherne, well for christianity in the east, could the credulous phranza have looked in upon the amiable young potentate during one of the nights of his residence in the moslem capital! he would have found him in a chamber of impenetrable privacy, listening while the prince of india proved the calculations of a horoscope decisive of the favorable time for beginning war with the byzantines. "now, my lord," he could have heard the prince say, when the last of the many tables had been refooted for the tenth time--"now we are ready for the ultimate. we are agreed, if i mistake not"--this was not merely a complimentary form of speech, for mahommed, it should be borne in mind, was himself deeply versed in the intricate and subtle science of planetary prediction--"we are agreed that as thou art to essay the war as its beginner, we should have the most favorable ascendant, determinable by the lord, and the planet or planets therein or in conjunction or aspect with the lord; we are also agreed that the lord of the seventh house is the emperor of constantinople; we are also agreed that to have thee overcome thy adversary, the emperor, it is better to have the ascendant in the house of one of the superior planets, saturn, jupiter or mars"-- "jupiter would be good, o prince," said mahommed, intensely interested, "yet i prefer mars." "my lord is right again." the seer hesitated slightly, then explained with a deferential nod and smile: "i was near saying my lord is always right. though some of the adepts have preferred scorpio for the ascendant, because it is a fixed sign, mars pleases me best; wherefore toward him have i directed all my observations, seeking a time when he shall certainly be better fortified than the lord of the seventh house, as well as elevated above him in our figure of the heavens." mahommed leaned far over toward the prince, and said imperiously, his eyes singularly bright: "and the ultimate--the time, the time, o prince! hast thou found it? allah forbid it be too soon!--there is so much to be done--so much of preparation." the prince smiled while answering: "my lord is seeing a field of glory--his by reservation of destiny--and i do not wonder at his impatience to go reaping in it; but" (he became serious) "it is never to be forgotten--no, not even by the most exalted of men--that the planets march by order of allah alone." ... then taking the last of the calculations from the table at his right hand, he continued: "the ascendant permits my lord to begin the war next year." mahommed heard with hands clinched till the nails seemed burrowing in the flesh of the palms. "the day, o prince!--the day--the hour!" he exclaimed. looking at the calculation, the prince appeared to reply from it: "at four o'clock, march twenty-sixth"-- "and the year?" "fourteen hundred and fifty-two." "_four o'clock, march twenty-sixth, fourteen hundred and fifty-two_," mahommed repeated slowly, as if writing and verifying each word. then he cried with fervor: "there is no god but god!" twice he crossed the floor; after which, unwilling probably to submit himself at that moment to observation by any man, he returned to the prince: "thou hast leave to retire; but keep within call. in this mighty business who is worthier to be the first help of my hands than the messenger of the stars?" the prince saluted and withdrew. at length phranza wearied of waiting, and being summoned home left the two affairs in charge of an ambassador instructed to forego no opportunity which might offer to press them to conclusions. afterwhile mahommed went into asia to suppress an insurrection in caramania. the greek followed him from town to camp, until, tiring of the importunity, the sultan one day summoned him to his tent. "tell my excellent friend, the lord of constantinople, thy master, that the sultana maria declines his offer of marriage." "well, my lord," said the ambassador, touched by the brevity of the communication, "did not the great lady deign an explanation?" "she declined--that is all." the ambassador hurried a courier to constantinople with the answer. for the first time he ventured to express a doubt of the turk's sincerity. he would have been a wiser man and infinitely more useful to his sovereign, could he have heard mahommed again in colloquy with the prince of india. "how long am i to endure this dog of a _gabour?_" [footnote: mahommed always wrote and spoke of byzantines as _romans_, except when in passion; then he called them _gabours_.] asked the sultan, angrily. "it was not enough to waylay me in my palace; he pursued me into the field; now he imbitters my bread, now at my bedside he drives sleep from me, now he begrudges me time for prayer. how long, i say?" the prince answered quietly: "until march twenty-sixth, fourteen hundred and fifty-two." "but if i put him to sleep, o prince?" "his master will send another in his place." "ah, but the interval! will it not be so many days of rest?--so many nights of unbroken sleep?" "has my lord finished his census yet? are his arsenals full? has he his ships, and sailors, and soldiers? has he money according to the estimate?" "no." "my lord has said he must have cannon. has he found an artificer to his mind?" mahommed frowned. "i will give my lord a suggestion. does it suit him to reply now to the proposal of marriage, keeping the matter of the stipend open, he may give half relief and still hold the emperor, who stands more in need of bezants than of a consort." "prince," said mahommed, quickly, "as you go out send my secretary in." "despatch a messenger for the ambassador of my brother of constantinople. i will see him immediately." this to the secretary. and presently the ambassador had the matter for report above recited. in the report he might have said with truth--a person styling himself _prince of india_ has risen to be grand vizier in fact, leaving the title to kalil. these negotiations, lamentably barren of good results, were stretched through half the year. but it is necessary to leave them for the time, that we may return and see if the emperor had better success in the management of the domestic problem referred to as an inheritance. chapter ii a fire from the hegumen's tomb the great fire burned its way broadly over two hills of the city, stopping at the wall of the garden on the eastern front of blacherne. how it originated, how many houses were destroyed, how many of the people perished in the flames and in the battle waged to extinguish them, were subjects of unavailing inquiry through many days. for relief of the homeless, constantine opened his private coffers. he also assumed personal direction of the removal of the debris cumbering the unsightly blackened districts, and, animated by his example, the whole population engaged zealously in the melancholy work. when galata, laying her jealousies aside, contributed money and sent companies of laborers over to the assistance of her neighbor, it actually seemed as if the long-forgotten age of christian brotherhood was to be renewed. but, alas! this unity, bred of so much suffering, so delightful as a rest from factious alarms, so suggestive of angelic society and heavenly conditions in general, disappeared--not slowly, but almost in a twinkling. it was afternoon of the second day after the fire. having been on horseback since early morning, the emperor, in need of repose, had returned to his palace; but met at the portal by an urgent request for audience from the princess irene, he received her forthwith. the reader can surmise the business she brought for consideration, and also the amazement with which her royal kinsman heard of the discovery and rescue of lael. for a spell his self-possession forsook him. in anticipation of the popular excitement likely to be aroused by the news, he summoned his councillors, and after consultation, appointed a commission to investigate the incident, first sending a guard to take possession of the cistern. like their master, the commissioners had never heard of the first profanation of the ancient reservoir; as a crime, consequently, this repetition was to them original in all its aspects, and they addressed themselves to the inquiry incredulously; but after listening to sergius, and to the details the little jewess was able to give them, the occurrence forced itself on their comprehension as more than a crime at law--it took on the proportions and color of a conspiracy against society and religion. then its relative consequences presented themselves. who were concerned in it? the name of demedes startled them by suddenly opening a wide horizon of conjecture. some were primarily disposed to welcome the intelligence for the opportunity it offered his majesty to crush the academy of epicurus, but a second thought cooled their ardor; insomuch that they began drawing back in alarm. the brotherhood of the st. james' was powerful, and it would certainly resent any humiliation their venerable hegumen might sustain through the ignominious exposure of his son. in great uncertainty, and not a little confusion, the commissionate body hied from the princess irene to the cistern. while careful to hide it from his associates, each of them went with a scarce admitted hope that there would be a failure of the confirmations at least with respect to the misguided demedes; and not to lose sight of nilo, in whom they already discerned a serviceable scapegoat, they required him to go with them. the revelations call for a passing notice. in the court the body of the keeper was found upon the pavement. the countenance looked the terror of which the man died, and as a spectacle grimly prepared the beholders for the disclosures which were to follow. there was need of resolution to make the dismal ferriage from the lower platform in the cistern, but it was done, nilo at the oars. when the visitors stepped on the landing of the "palace," their wonder was unbounded. when they passed through the battered doorway, and standing under the circlet, in which the lights were dead, gazed about them, they knew not which was most astonishing, the courage of the majestic black or the audacity of the projector of the villanous scheme. but where was he? we may be sure there was no delay in the demand for him. while the fishing tongs were being brought, the apartments were inspected, and a list of their contents made. then the party collected at the edge of the landing. the secret hope was faint within them, for the confirmations so far were positive, and the terrible negro, not in the least abashed, was showing them where his enemy went down. they gave him the tongs, and at the first plunge he grappled the body, and commenced raising it. they crowded closer around him, awe-struck yet silently praying: holy mother, grant it be any but the hegumen's son! a white hand, the fingers gay with rings, appeared above the water. the fisherman took hold of it, and with a triumphant smile, drew the corpse out, and laid it face up for better viewing. the garments were still bright, the gilded mail sparkled bravely. one stooped with the light, and said immediately: "it is he--demedes!" then the commissioners looked at each other--there was no need of speech--a fortunate thing, for at that instant there was nothing of which they were more afraid. avoidance of the dreaded complications was now impossible--so at least it seemed to them. up in the keeper's room, whither they hurriedly adjourned, it was resolved to despatch a messenger to his majesty with an informal statement of the discoveries, and a request for orders. the unwillingness to assume responsibility was natural. constantine acted promptly, and with sharp discernment of the opportunity afforded the mischief-makers. the offence was to the city, and it should see the contempt in which the conspirators held it, the danger escaped, and the provocation to the most righteous; if then there were seditions, his conscience was acquit. he sent phranza to break the news to the hegumen, and went in person to the monastery, arriving barely in time to receive the blessings of his reverend friend, who, overcome by the shock, died in his arms. returning sadly to blacherne, he ordered the corpses of the guilty men to be exposed for two days before the door of the keeper's house, and the cistern thrown open for visitation by all who desired to inspect the palace of darkness, as he appropriately termed the floating tenement constructed with such wicked intents. he also issued a proclamation for the suppression of the epicurean academy, and appointed a day of thanksgiving to god for the early exposure of the conspiracy. nilo he sent to a cell in the cynegion, ostensibly for future trial, but really to secure him from danger; in his heart he admired the king's spirit, and hoped a day would come when he could safely and suitably reward him. on the part of the people the commotion which ensued was extraordinary. they left the fire to its smouldering, and in steady currents marched past the ghastly exhibits prepared for them in the street, looked at them, shuddered, crossed themselves, and went their ways apparently thankful for the swiftness of the judgment which had befallen; nor was there one heard to criticise the emperor's course. the malefactors were dropped, like unclean clods, into the earth at night, without ceremony or a mourner in attendance. thus far all well. at length the day of thanksgiving arrived. by general agreement, there was not a sign of dissatisfaction to be seen. the most timorous of the commissioners rested easy. sancta sophia was the place appointed for the services, and constantine had published his intention to be present. he had donned the basilean robes; his litter was at the door of the palace; his guard of horse and foot was formed, when the officer on duty at the gate down by the port of blacherne arrived with a startling report. "your majesty," he said, unusually regardless of the ancient salutation, "there is a great tumult in the city." the imperial countenance became stern. "this is a day of thanks to god for a great mercy; who dares profane it by tumult?" "i must speak from hearsay," the officer answered.... "the funeral of the hegumen of the st. james took place at daylight this morning"-- "yes," said constantine, sighing at the sad reminder, "i had intended to assist the brotherhood. but proceed." "the brothers, with large delegations from the other monasteries, were assembled at the tomb, when gennadius appeared, and began to preach, and he wrought upon his hearers until they pushed the coffin into the vault, and dispersed through the streets, stirring up the people." at this the emperor yielded to his indignation. "now, by the trials and sufferings of the most christian mother, are we beasts insensible to destruction? or idiots exempt from the penalties of sin and impiety? and he--that genius of unrest--that master of foment--god o' mercy, what has he laid hold of to lead so many better men to betray their vows and the beads at their belts? tell me--speak--my patience is nearly gone." for an instant, be it said, the much tried sovereign beheld a strong hand move within reach, as offering itself for acceptance. no doubt he saw it as it was intended, the symbol and suggestion of a policy. pity he did not take it! for then how much of mischance had been averted from himself--constantinople might not have been lost to the christian world--the greek church had saved its integrity by recognizing the union with the latins consummated at the council of florence--christianity had not been flung back for centuries in the east, its birthplace. "your majesty," the officer returned, "i can report what i heard, leaving its truth to investigation.... in his speech by the tomb gennadius admitted the awfulness of the crime attempted by demedes, and the justice of the punishment the young man suffered, its swiftness proving it to have been directed by heaven; but he declared its conception was due to the academy of epicurus, and that there remained nothing deserving study and penance except the continued toleration without which the ungodly institution had passed quickly, as plagues fly over cities purified against them. the crime, he said, was ended. let the dead bury the dead. but who were they responsible for grace to the academy? and he answered himself, my lord, by naming the church and the state." "ah! he attacked the church then?" "no, my lord, he excused it by saying it had been debauched by an _azymite_ patriarch, and while that servant of prostitution and heresy controlled it, wickedness would be protected and go on increasing." "and the state--how dealt he with the state?" "the church he described as samson; the patriarch, as an uncomely delilah who had speciously shorn it of its strength and beauty; the state, as a political prompter and coadjutor of the delilah; and rome, a false god seeking to promote worship unto itself through the debased church and state." "god o' mercy!" constantine exclaimed, involuntarily signing to the sword-bearer at his back; but recovering himself, he asked with forced moderation: "to the purpose of it all--the object. what did he propose to the brothers?" "he called them lovers of god in the livery of christ, and implored them to gird up their loins, and stand for the religion of the fathers, lest it perish entirely." "did he tell them what to do?" "yes, my lord." a wistful, eager look appeared on the royal face, and behind it an expectation that now there would be something to justify arrest and exile at least--something politically treasonable. "he referred next to the thanksgiving services appointed to-day in sancta sophia, and declared it an opportunity from heaven, sent them and all the faithful in the city, to begin a crusade for reform; not by resort to sword and spear, for they were weapons of hell, but by refusing to assist the patriarch with their presence. a vision had come to him in the night, he said--an angel of the lord with the madonna of blacherne--advising him of the divine will. under his further urgency--and my lord knows his power of speech--the brothers listening, the st. james' and all present from the other orders, broke up and took to the streets, where they are now, exhorting the people not to go to the church, and there is reason to believe they will"-- "enough," said the emperor, with sudden resolution. "the good gregory shall not pray god singly and alone." turning to phranza, he ordered him to summon the court for the occasion. "let not one stay away," he continued; "and they shall put on their best robes and whole regalia; for, going in state myself, i have need of their utmost splendor. it is my will, further, that the army be drawn from their quarters to the church, men, music, and flags, and the navies from their ships. and give greeting to the patriarch, and notify him, lest he make haste. aside from these preparations, i desire the grumblers be left to pursue their course unmolested. the sincere and holy amongst them will presently have return of clear light." this counter project was entered upon energetically. shortly after noon the military bore down to the old church, braying the streets with horns, drums and cymbals, and when they were at order in the immense auditorium, their banners hanging unfurled from the galleries, the emperor entered, with his court; in a word, the brave, honest, white-haired patriarch had company multitudinous and noble as he could desire. none the less, however, gennadius had his way also--_the people took no part in the ceremony_. after the celebration, constantine, in his chambers up in blacherne, meditated upon the day and its outcome. phranza was his sole attendant. "my dear friend," the emperor began, breaking a long silence, and much disquieted, "was not my predecessor, the first constantine, beset with religious dissensions?" "if we may credit history, my lord, he certainly was." "how did he manage them?" "he called a council." "a council truly--was that all?" "i do not recollect anything more." "it was this way, i think. he first settled the faith, and then provided against dispute." "how, my lord?" "well, there was one arius, a libyan, presbyter of a little church in alexandria called baucalis, preacher of the unity of god"-- "i remember him now." "of the unity of god as opposed to the trinity. him the first constantine sent to prison for life, did he not?" thereupon phranza understood the subject of his master's meditation; but being of a timid soul, emasculated by much practice of diplomacy, usually a tedious, waiting occupation, he hastened to reply: "even so, my lord. yet he could afford to be heroic. he had consolidated the church, and was holding the world in the hollow of his hand." constantine allowed a sigh to escape him, and lapsed into silence; when next he spoke, it was to say slowly: "alas, my dear friend! the people were not there"--meaning at sancta sophia. "i fear, i fear"-- "what, my lord?" another sigh deeper than the first one: "i fear i am not a statesman, but only a soldier, with nothing to give god and my empire except a sword and one poor life." these details will help the reader to a fair understanding of the domestic involvements which overtook the emperor about the time mahommed ascended the turkish throne, and they are to be considered in addition to the negotiations in progress with the sultan. and as it is important to give an idea of their speeding, we remark further, that from the afternoon of the solemnity in sancta sophia the discussion then forced upon him went from bad to worse, until he was seriously deprived both of popular sympathy and the support of the organized religious orders. the success of the solemnity in point of display, and the measures resorted to, were not merely offensive to gennadius and his ally, the duke notaras; they construed them as a challenge to a trial of strength, and so vigorously did they avail themselves of their advantages that, before the emperor was aware of it, there were two distinct parties in the city, one headed by gennadius, the other by himself and gregory the patriarch. month by month the bitterness intensified; month by month the imperial party fell away until there was little of it left outside the court and the army and navy, and even they were subjected to incessant inroads--until, finally, it came to pass that the emperor was doubtful whom to trust. thereupon, of course, the season for energetic repressive measures vanished, never to return. personalities, abuse, denunciation, lying, and sometimes downright blows took the place of debate in the struggle. one day religion was an exciting cause; next day, politics. throughout it all, however, gennadius was obviously the master-spirit. his methods were consummately adapted to the genius of the byzantines. by confining himself strictly to the church wrangle, he avoided furnishing the emperor pretexts for legal prosecution; at the same time he wrought with such cunning that in the monasteries the very high residence of blacherne was spoken of as a den of _azymites_, while sancta sophia was abandoned to the patriarch. to be seen in the purlieus of the latter was a signal for vulgar anathemas and social ostracism. his habits meantime were of a sort to make him a popular idol. he grew, if possible, more severely penitential; he fasted and flagellated himself; he slept on the stony floor before his crucifix; he seldom issued from his cell, and when visited there, was always surprised at prayers, the burden of which was forgiveness for signing the detested articles of union with the latins. the physical suffering he endured was not without solace; he had heavenly visions and was attended by angels. if in his solitude he fainted, the holy virgin of blacherne ministered to him, and brought him back to life and labor. first an ascetic, then a prophet--such was his progression. and constantine was a witness to the imposture, and smarted under it; still he held there was nothing for him but to temporize, for if he ordered the seizure and banishment of the all-powerful hypocrite, he could trust no one with the order. the time was dark as a starless night to the high-spirited but too amiable monarch, and he watched and waited, or rather watched and drifted, extending confidence to but two counsellors, phranza and the princess irene. even in their company he was not always comfortable, for, strange to say, the advice of the woman was invariably heroic, and that of the man invariably weak and accommodating. from this sketch the tendencies of the government can be right plainly estimated, leaving the suspicion of a difference between the first constantine and the last to grow as the evils grew. chapter iii mirza does an errand for mahommed vegetation along the bosphorus was just issuing from what may be called its budded state. in the gardens and protected spots on the european side white and yellow winged butterflies now and then appeared without lighting, for as yet there was nothing attractive enough to keep them. like some great men of whom we occasionally hear, they were in the world before their time. in other words the month of may was about a week old, and there was a bright day to recommend it--bright, only a little too much tinctured with march and april to be all enjoyable. the earth was still spongy, the water cold, the air crisp, and the sun deceitful. about ten o'clock in the morning constantinopolitans lounging on the sea-wall were surprised by explosive sounds from down the marmora. afterwhile they located them, so to speak, on a galley off st. stephano. at stated intervals, pale blue smoke would burst from the vessel, followed by a hurry-skurry of gulls in the vicinity, and then the roar, muffled by distance. the age of artillery had not yet arrived; nevertheless, cannon were quite well known to fame. enterprising traders from the west had sailed into the golden horn with samples of the new arm on their decks; they were of such rude construction as to be unfit for service other than saluting. [footnote: cannon were first made of hooped iron, widest at the mouth. the process of casting them was just coming in.] so, now, while the idlers on the wall were not alarmed, they were curious to make out who the extravagant fellows were, and waited for the flag to tell them. the stranger passed swiftly, firing as it went; and as the canvas was new and the hull freshly painted in white, it rode the waves to appearances a very beautiful "thing of life;" but the flag told nothing of its nationality. there were stripes on it diagonally set, green, yellow, and red, the yellow in the middle. "the owners are not genoese"--such was the judgment on the wall. "no, nor venetian, for that is not a lion in the yellow." "what, then, is it?" pursued thus, the galley, at length rounding point serail (demetrius), turned into the harbor. when opposite the tower of galata, a last salute was fired from her deck; then the two cities caught up the interest, and being able to make out decisively that the sign in the yellow field of the flag was but a coat-of-arms, they said emphatically: "it is not a national ship--only a great lord;" and thereupon the question became self-inciting: "who is he?" hardly had the anchor taken hold in the muddy bed of the harbor in front of the port of blacherne, before a small boat put off from the strange ship, manned by sailors clad in flowing white trousers, short sleeveless jackets, and red turbans of a style remarkable for amplitude. an officer, probably the sailing-master, went with them, and he, too, was heavily turbaned. a gaping crowd on the landing received the visitor when he stepped ashore and asked to see the captain of the guard. to that dignitary he delivered a despatch handsomely enveloped in yellow silk, saying, in imperfect greek: "my lord, just arrived, prays you to read the enclosure, and send it forward by suitable hand. he trusts to your knowledge of what the proprieties require. he will await the reply on his galley." the sailing-master saluted profoundly, resumed seat in his boat, and started back to the ship, leaving the captain of the guard to open the envelope and read the communication, which was substantially as follows: "from the galley, st. agostino, may , year of our blessed saviour, . "the undersigned is a christian noble of italy, more particularly from his strong castle corti on the eastern coast of italy, near the ancient city of brindisi. he offers lealty to his most christian majesty, the emperor of constantinople, defender of the faith according to the crucified son of god (to whom be honor and praise forevermore), and humbly represents that he is a well-knighted soldier by profession, having won his spurs in battle, and taken the accolade from the hand of calixtus the third, bishop of rome, and, yet more worthily, his holiness the pope: that the time being peaceful in his country, except as it was rent by baronial feuds and forays not to his taste, he left it in search of employment and honors abroad; that he made the pilgrimage to the holy sepulchre first, and secured there a number of precious relics, which he is solicitous of presenting to his imperial majesty; that from long association with the moslems, whom heaven, in its wisdom impenetrable to the understanding of men, permits to profane the holy land with their presence and wicked guardianship, he acquired a speaking knowledge of the arabic and turkish languages; that he engaged in warfare against those enemies of god, having the powerful sanction therefor of his holiness aforesaid, by whose direction he occupied himself chiefly with chastising the berber pirates of tripoli, from whom he took prisoners, putting them at his oars, where some of them now are. with the august city of byzantium he has been acquainted many years through report, and, if its fame be truly published, he desires to reside in it, possibly to the end of his days. wherefore he presumes to address this his respectful petition, praying its submission to his most christian majesty, that he may be assured if the proposal be agreeable to the royal pleasure, and in the meantime have quiet anchorage for his galley. ugo, count corti." in the eyes of the captain of the guard the paper was singular, but explicit; moreover, the request seemed superfluous, considering the laxity prevalent with respect to the coming and going of persons of all nativities and callings. to be sure, trade was not as it used to be, and, thanks to the enterprise and cunning of the galatanese across the harbor, the revenues from importations were sadly curtailed; still the old city had its markets, and the world was welcome to them. the argument, however, which silenced the custodian's doubt was, that of the few who rode to the gates in their own galleys and kept them there ready to depart if their reception were in the least chilling, how many signed themselves as did this one? italian counts were famous fighters, and generally had audiences wherever they knocked. so he concluded to send the enclosure up to the palace without the intermediation of the high admiral, a course which would at least save time. while the affair is thus pending, we may return to count corti, and say an essential word or two of him. the cannon, it is to be remarked, was not the only novelty of the galley. over the stern, where the aplustre cast its shadow in ordinary crafts, there was a pavilion-like structure, high-raised, flat-roofed, and with small round windows in the sides. quite likely the progressive ship-builders at palos and genoa would have termed the new feature a cabin. it was beyond cavil an improvement; and on this occasion the proprietor utilized it as he well might. since the first gun off st. stephano, he had held the roof, finding it the best position to get and enjoy a view of the capital, or rather of the walls and crowned eminences they had so long and all-sufficiently defended. a chair had been considerately brought up and put at his service, but in witness of the charm the spectacle had for him from the beginning, he did not once resort to it. if only to save ourselves description of the man, and rescue him from a charge of intrusion into the body of our story, we think it better to take the reader into confidence at once, and inform him that count corti is in fact our former acquaintance mirza, the emir of the hajj. the difference between his situation now, and when we first had sight of him on his horse under the yellow flag in the valley of zaribah is remarkable; yet he is the same in one particular at least--he was in armor then, and he is still in armor--that is, he affects the same visorless casque, with its cape of fine rings buckled under the chin, the same shirt and overalls of pliable mail, the same shoes of transverse iron scales working into each other telescopically when the feet are in movement, the same golden spurs, and a surcoat in every particular like the emir's, except it is brick-dust red instead of green. and this constancy in armor should not be accounted a vanity; it was a habit acquired in the school of arms which graduated him, and which he persisted in partly for the inurement, and partly as a mark of respect for mahommed, with whom the gleam and clink of steel well fashioned and gracefully worn was a passion, out of which he evolved a suite rivalling those kinsmen of the buccleuch who-- "--quitted not their harness bright, neither by day nor yet by night." returning once again. it was hoped when mirza was first introduced that every one who might chance to spend an evening over these pages would perceive the possibilities he prefigured, and adopt him as a favorite; wherefore the interest may be more pressing to know what he, an islamite supposably without guile, a janissary of rank, lately so high in his master's confidence, is doing here, offering lealty to the most christian emperor, and denouncing the followers of the prophet as enemies of god. the appearances are certainly against him. the explanation due, if only for coherence in our narrative, would be clearer did the reader review the part of the last conversation in the white castle between the prince of india and mahommed, in which the latter is paternally advised to study the greek capital, and keep himself informed of events within its walls. yet, inasmuch as there is a current in reading which one once fairly into is loath to be pushed out of, we may be forgiven for quoting a material passage or two.... "there is much for my lord to do"--the prince says, speaking to his noble eleve. "it is for him to think and act as if constantinople were his capital temporarily in possession of another.... it is for him to learn the city within and without; its streets and edifices; its hills and walls; its strong and weak places; its inhabitants, commerce, foreign relations; the character of its ruler, his resources and policies; its daily events; its cliques, clubs, and religious factions; especially is it for him to foment the differences latin and greek already a fire which has long been eating out to air in an inflammable house."... mahommed, it will be recollected, acceded to the counsel, and in discussing the selection of a person suitable for the secret agency, the prince said: ... "he who undertakes it should enter constantinople and live there above suspicion. he must be crafty, intelligent, courtly in manner, accomplished in arms, of high rank, and with means to carry his state bravely; for not only ought he to be conspicuous in the hippodrome; he should be welcome in the salons and palaces; along with other facilities, he must be provided to buy service in the emperor's bedroom and council chamber--nay, at his elbow. mature of judgment, it is of prime importance that he possess my lord's confidence unalterably."... and when the ambitious turk demanded: "the man, prince, the man!"--the wily tutor responded: "my lord has already named him."--"i?"--"only to-night my lord spoke of him as a marvel."--"mirza?"... the jew then proceeded: "despatch him to italy; let him appear in constantinople, embarked from a galley, habited like an italian, and with a suitable italian title. he speaks italian already, is fixed in his religion, and in knightly honor. not all the gifts at the despot's disposal, nor the blandishments of society can shake his allegiance--he worships my lord."... mahommed demurred to the proposal, saying: "so has mirza become a part of me, i am scarcely myself without him." now he who has allowed himself to become interested in the bright young emir, and pauses to digest these excerpts, will be aware of a grave concern for him. he foresees the outcome of the devotion to mahommed dwelt upon so strongly by the prince of india. an order to undertake the secret service will be accepted certainly as it is given. the very assurance that it will be accepted begets solicitude in the affair. did mahommed decide affirmatively? what were the instructions given? having thus settled the coherences, we move on with the narrative. it will be remembered, further, that close after the departure of the princess irene from the old castle, mahommed followed her to therapia, and, as an arab story-teller, was favored with an extended private audience in which he extolled himself to her at great length, and actually assumed the role of a lover. what is yet more romantic, he came away a lover in fact. the circumstance is not to be lightly dismissed, for it was of immeasurable effect upon the fortunes of the emir, and--if we can be excused for connecting an interest so stupendous with one so comparatively trifling--the fate of constantinople. theretofore the turk's ambition had been the sole motive of his designs against that city, and, though vigorous, driving, and possibly enough of itself to have pushed him on, there might yet have been some delay in the achievement. ambition derived from genius is cautious in its first movements, counts the cost, ponders the marches to be made and the means to be employed, and is at times paralyzed by the simple contemplation of failure; in other words, dread of loss of glory is not seldom more powerful than the hope of glory. after the visit to therapia, however, love reenforced ambition; or rather the two passions possessed mahommed, and together they murdered his sleep. he became impatient and irritable; the days were too short, the months too long. constantinople absorbed him. he thought of nothing else waking, and dreamed of nothing else. well for him his faith in astrology, for by it the prince of india was able to hold him to methodic preparation. there were times when he was tempted to seize the princess, and carry her off. her palace was undefended, and he had but to raid it at night. why not? there were two reasons, either of them sufficient: first, the stern old sultan, his father, was a just man, and friendly to the emperor constantine; but still stronger, and probably the deterrent in fact, he actually loved the princess with a genuine romantic sentiment, her happiness an equal motive--loved her for herself--a thing perfectly consistent, for in the oriental idea there is always one the highest. now, it was very lover-like in mahommed, his giving himself up to thought of the princess while gliding down the bosphorus, after leaving his safeguard on her gate. he closed his eyes against the mellow light on the water, and, silently admitting her the perfection of womanhood, held her image before him until it was indelible in memory--face, figure, manner, even her dress and ornaments--until his longing for her became a positive hunger of soul. as if to give us an illustration of the mal-apropos in coincidence, his august father had selected a bride for him, and he was on the road to adrianople to celebrate the nuptials when he stopped at the white castle. the maiden chosen was of a noble turkish family, but harem born and bred. she might be charming, a very queen in the seraglio; but, alas! the kinswoman of the christian emperor had furnished a glimpse of attractions which the fiancee to whom he was going could never attain--attractions of mind and manner more lasting than those of mere person; and as he finished the comparison, he beat his breast, and cried out: "ah, the partiality of the most merciful! to clothe this greek with all the perfections, and deny her to me!" withal, there was a method in mahommed's passion. setting his face sternly against violating his own safeguard by abducting the princess, he fell into revision of her conversation; and then a light broke in upon him--a light and a road to his object. he recalled with particularity her reply to the message delivered to her, supposably from himself, containing his avowal that he loved her the more because she was a christian, and singled out of it these words: ... "a wife i might become, not from temptation of gain or power, or in surrender to love--i speak not in derision of the passion, since, like the admitted virtues, it is from god--nay, sheik, in illustration of what may otherwise be of uncertain meaning to him, tell prince mahommed i might become his wife could i, by so doing, save or help the religion i profess." this he took to pieces.... "'she might become a wife.' good!... 'she might become my wife'--on condition.... what condition?" ... he beat his breast again, this time with a laugh. the rowers looked at him in wonder. what cared he for them? he had discovered a way to make her his.... "constantinople is the greek church," he muttered, with flashing eyes. "i will take the city for my own glory--to her then the glory of saving the church! on to constantinople!" and from that moment the fate of the venerable metropolis may be said to have been finally sealed. within an hour after his return to the white castle, he summoned mirza, and surprised him by the exuberance of his joy. he threw his arm over the emir's shoulder, and walked with him, laughing and talking, like a man in wine. his nature was of the kind which, for the escape of feeling, required action as well as words. at length he sobered down. "here, mirza," he said. "stand here before me.... thou lovest me, i believe?" mirza answered upon his knee: "my lord has said it." "i believe thee.... rise and take pen and paper, and write, standing here before me." [footnote: a turkish calligraphist works on his feet as frequently as on a chair, using a pen made of reed and india ink reduced to fluid.] from a table near by the materials were brought, and the emir, again upon his knees, wrote as his master dictated. the paper need not be given in full. enough that it covered with uncommon literalness--for the conqueror's memory was prodigious--the suggestions of the prince of india already quoted respecting the duties of the agent in constantinople. while writing, the emir was variously moved; one instant, his countenance was deeply flushed, and in the next very pale; sometimes his hand trembled. mahommed meantime kept close watch upon him, and now he asked: "what ails thee?" "my lord's will is my will," was the answer--"yet"-- "out--speak out." "my lord is sending me from him, and i dread losing my place at his right hand." mahommed laughed heartily. "lay the fear betime," he then said, gravely. "where thou goest, though out of reach of my right hand, there will my thought be. hear--nay, at my knee." he laid the hand spoken of on mirza's shoulder, and stooped towards him. "ah, my saladin, thou wert never in love, i take it? well--i am. look not up now, lest--lest thou think my bearded cheek hath changed to a girl's." mirza did not look up, yet he knew his master was blushing. "where thou goest, i would give everything but the sword of othman to be every hour of the day, for she abideth there.... i see a ring on thy hand--the ruby ring i gave thee the day thou didst unhorse the uncircumcised deputy of hunyades. give it back to me. 'tis well. see, i place it on the third finger of my left hand. they say whoever looketh at her is thenceforth her lover. i caution thee, and so long as this ruby keepeth color unchanged, i shall know thou art keeping honor bright with me--that thou lovest her, because thou canst not help it, yet for my sake, and because i love her.... look up now, my falcon--look up, and pledge me." "i pledge my lord," mirza answered. "now i will tell thee. she is that kinswoman of the _gabour_ emperor constantine whom we saw here the day of our arrival. or didst thou see her? i have forgotten." "i did not, my lord." "well, thou wilt know her at sight; for in grace and beauty i think she must be a daughter of the houri this moment giving immortal drink to the beloved of allah, even the prophet." mahommed changed his tone. "the paper and the pen." and taking them he signed the instructions, and the signature was the same as that on the safeguard on the gate at therapia. "there--keep it well; for when thou gettest to constantinople, thou wilt become a christian." he laughed again. "mirza--the mirza mahommed swore by, and appointed keeper of his heart's secret--he a christian! this will shift the sin of the apostasy to me." mirza took the paper. "i have not chosen to write of the other matter. in what should it be written, if at all, except in my blood--so close is it to me?... these are the things i expect of thee. art thou listening? she shall be to thee as thine eye. advise me of her health, and where she goes; with whom she consorts; what she does and says; save her from harm: does one speak ill of her, kill him, only do it in my name--and forget not, o my saladin!--as thou hopest a garden and a couch in paradise--forget not that in constantinople, when i come, i am to receive her from thy hand peerless in all things as i left her to-day.... thou hast my will all told. i will send money to thy room to-night, and thou wilt leave to-night, lest, being seen making ready in the morning, some idiot pursue thee with his wonder.... as thou art to be my other self, be it royally. kings never account to themselves.... thou wantest now nothing but this signet." from his breast he drew a large ring, its emerald setting graven with the signature at the bottom of the instructions, and gave it to him. "is there a pacha or a begler-bey, governor of a city or a province, property of my father, who refuseth thy demand after showing him this, report him, and _shintan_ will be more tolerable unto him than i, when i have my own. it is all said. go now.... we will speak of rewards when next we meet.... or stay! thou art to communicate by way of this castle, and for that i will despatch a man to thee in constantinople. remember--for every word thou sendest me of the city, i look for two of her.... here is my hand." mirza kissed it, and departed. chapter iv the emir in italy we know now who count corti is, and the objects of his coming to constantinople--that he is a secret agent of mahommed--that, summed up in the fewest words, his business is to keep the city in observation, and furnish reports which will be useful to his master in the preparation the latter is making for its conquest. we also know he is charged with very peculiar duties respecting the princess irene. the most casual consideration of these revelations will make it apparent, in the next place, that hereafter the emir must be designated by his italian appellative in full or abbreviated. before forsaking the old name, there is lively need of information, whether as he now stands on the deck of his galley, waiting the permissions prayed by him of the emperor constantine, he is, aside from title, the same mirza lately so honored by mahommed. from the time the ship hove in sight of the city, he had kept his place on the cabin. the sailors, looking up to him occasionally, supposed him bound by the view, so motionless he stood, so steadfastly he gazed. yet in fact his countenance was not expressive of admiration or rapture. a man with sound vision may have a mountain just before him and not see it; he may be in the vortex of a battle deaf to its voices; a thought or a feeling can occupy him in the crisis of his life to the exclusion of every sense. if perchance it be so with the emir now, he must have undergone a change which only a powerful cause could have brought about. he had been so content with his condition, so proud of his fame already won, so happy in keeping prepared for the opportunities plainly in his sight, so satisfied with his place in his master's confidence, so delighted when that master laid a hand upon his shoulder and called him familiarly, now his saladin, and now his falcon. faithfully, as bidden, mirza sallied from the white castle the night of his appointment to the agency in constantinople. he spoke to no one of his intention, for he well knew secrecy was the soul of the enterprise. for the same reason, he bought of a dervish travelling with the lord mahommed's suite a complete outfit, including the man's donkey and donkey furniture. at break of day he was beyond the hills of the bosphorus, resolved to skirt the eastern shore of the marmora and hellespont, from which the greek population had been almost entirely driven by the turks, and at the dardanelles take ship for italy direct as possible--a long route and trying--yet there was in it the total disappearance from the eyes of acquaintances needful to success in his venture. his disguise insured him from interruption on the road, dervishes being sacred characters in the estimation of the faithful, and generally too poor to excite cupidity. a gray-frocked man, hooded, coarsely sandalled, and with a blackened gourd at his girdle for the alms he might receive from the devout, no islamite meeting him would ever suspect a large treasure in the ragged bundle on the back of the patient animal plodding behind him like a tired dog. the dardanelles was a great stopping-place for merchants and tradesmen, greek, venetian, genoese. there mirza provided himself with an italian suit, adopted the italian tongue, and became italian. he borrowed a chart of the coast of italy from a sailor, to determine the port at which it would be advisable for him to land. while settling this point, the conversation had with the prince of india in the latter's tent at zaribah arose to mind, and he recalled with particularity all that singular person said with reference to the accent observable in his speech. he also went over the description he himself had given the prince of the house or castle from which he had been taken in childhood. a woman had borne him outdoors, under a blue sky, along a margin of white sand, an orchard on one hand, the sea on the other. he remembered the report of the waves breaking on the shore, the olive-green color of the trees in the orchard, and the battlemented gate of the castle; whereupon the prince said the description reminded him of the eastern shore of italy in the region of brindisi. it was a vague remark certainly; but now it made a deeper impression on the emir than at the moment of its utterance and pointed his attention to brindisi. the going to italy, he argued, was really to get a warrant for the character he was to assume in constantinople; that is, to obtain some knowledge of the country, its geography, political divisions, cities, rulers, and present conditions generally, without which the slightest cross-examination by any of the well-informed personages about the emperor would shatter his pretensions in an instant. then it was he fell into a most unusual mood. since the hour the turbaned rovers captured him he had not been assailed by a desire to see or seek his country and family. who was his father? was his mother living? probably nothing could better define the profundity of the system underlying the organization of the janissaries than that he had never asked those questions with a genuine care to have them solved. what a suppression of the most ordinary instincts of nature! how could it have been accomplished so completely? as a circumstance, its tendency is to confirm the theory that men are creatures of education and association.... was his mother living? did she remember him? had she wept for him? what sort of being was she? if living, how old would she be? and he actually attempted a calculation. calling himself twenty-six she might not be over forty-five. that was not enough to dim her eyes or more than slightly silver her hair; and as respects her heart, are not the affections of a mother flowers for culling by death alone? such reflections never fail effect. a tenderness of spirit is the first token of their presence; then memory and imagination begin striving; the latter to bring the beloved object back, and the former to surround it with sweetest circumstances. they wrought with mirza as with everybody else. the yearning they excited in him was a surprise; presently he determined to act on the prince of india's suggestion, and betake himself to the eastern coast of italy. the story of the sack of a castle was of a kind to have wide circulation; at the same time this one was recent enough to be still in the memory of persons living. finding the place of its occurrence was the difficulty. if in the vicinity of brindisi--well, he would go and ask. the yearning spoken of did not come alone; it had for companion, conscience, as yet in the background. there were vessels bound for venice. one was taking in water, after which it would sail for otranto. it seemed a fleet craft, with a fair crew, and a complement of stout rowers. otranto was south of brindisi a little way, and the castle he wanted to hear of might have been situated between those cities. who could tell? besides, as an italian nobleman, to answer inquiry in constantinople, he would have to locate himself somewhere, and possibly the coast in question might accommodate him with both a location and a title. the result was he took passage to otranto. while there he kept his role of traveller, but was studious, and picked up a great fund of information bearing upon the part awaiting him. he lived and dressed well, and affected religious circles. it was the day when italy was given over to the nobles--the day of robbers, fighting, intrigues and usurpations--of free lances and bold banditti--of government by the strong hand, of right determinable by might, of ensanguined guelphs and ghibellines. of these the emir kept clear. by chance he fell in with an old man of secondary rank in the city much given to learning, an habitue of a library belonging to one of the monasteries. it came out ere long that the venerable person was familiar with the coast from otranto to brindisi, and beyond far as polignano. "it was in my sturdier days," the veteran said, with a dismal glance at his shrunken hands. "the people along the shore were much harried by moslem pirates. landing from their galleys, the depredators burned habitations, slew the men, and carried off such women as they thought would fetch a price. they even assaulted castles. at last we were driven to the employment of a defensive guard cooperative on land and water. i was a captain. our fights with the rovers were frequent and fierce. neither side showed quarter." the reminiscence stimulated mirza to inquiry. he asked the old man if he could mention a castle thus attacked. "yes, there was one belonging to count corti, a few leagues beyond brindisi. the count defended himself, but was slain." "had he a family?" "a wife and a boy child." "what became of them?" "by good chance the countess was in brindisi attending a fete; she escaped, of course. the boy, two or three years of age, was made prisoner, and never heard of afterwards." a premonition seized mirza. "is the countess living?" "yes. she never entirely recovered from the shock, but built a house near the site of the castle, and clearing a room in the ruins, turned it into a chapel. every morning and evening she goes there, and prays for the soul of her husband, and the return of her lost boy." "how long is it since the poor lady was so bereft?" the narrator reflected, and replied: "twenty-two or three years." "may the castle be found?" "yes." "have you been to it?" "many times." "how was it named?" "after the count--_il castillo di corti_." "tell me something of its site." "it is down close by the sea. a stone wall separates its front enclosure from the beach. sometimes the foam of the waves is dashed upon the wall. through a covered gate one looks out, and all is water. standing on the tower, all landward is orchard and orchard--olive and almond trees intermixed. a great estate it was and is. the countess, it is understood, has a will executed; if the boy does not return before her death, the church is to be her legatee." there was more of the conversation, covering a history of the corti family, honorable as it was old--the men famous warriors, the women famous beauties. mirza dreamed through the night of the countess, and awoke with a vague consciousness that the wife of the pacha, the grace of whose care had been about him in childhood--a good woman, gentle and tender--was after all but a representative of the mother who had given him birth, just as on her part every mother is mercifully representative of god. under strong feeling he took boat for brindisi. there he had no trouble in confirming the statements of his otranto acquaintance. the countess was still living, and the coast road northwardly would bring him to the ruins of her castle. the journey did not exceed five leagues. what he might find at the castle, how long he would stay, what do, were so uncertain--indeed everything in the connection was so dependent upon conditions impossible of foresight, that he resolved to set out on foot. to this course he was the more inclined by the mildness of the weather, and the reputation of the region for freshness and beauty. about noon he was fairly on the road. persons whom he met--and they were not all of the peasant class--seeing a traveller jaunty in plumed cap, light blue camail, pointed buskins, and close-fitting hose the color of the camail, sword at his side, and javelin in hand, stayed to observe him long as he was in sight, never dreaming they were permitted to behold a favorite of one of the bloody mahounds of the east. over hill and down shallow vales: through stone-fenced lanes; now in the shade of old trees; now along a seashore partially overflowed by languid waves, he went, lighter in step than heart, for he was in the mood by no means uncommon, when the spirit is prophesying evil unto itself. he was sensible of the feeling, and for shame would catch the javelin in the middle and whirl it about him defensively until it sung like a spinning-wheel; at times he stopped and, with his fingers in his mouth, whistled to a small bird as if it were a hunting hawk high in air. once, seeing a herd of goats around a house thatched and half-hidden in vines, he asked for milk. a woman brought it to him, with a slice of brown bread; and while he ate and drank, she stared at him in respectful admiration; and when he paid her in gold, she said, courtesying low: "a glad life to my lord! i will pray the madonna to make the wish good." poor creature! she had no idea she was blessing one in whose faith the prophet was nearer god than god's own son. at length the road made an abrupt turn to the right, bringing him to a long stretch of sandy beach. nearly as he could judge, it was time for the castle to appear, and he was anxious to make it before sundown. yet in the angle of the wood he saw a wayside box of stone sheltering an image of the virgin, with the holy child in its arms. besides being sculptured better than usual, the figures were covered with flowers in wreath and bouquet. a dressed slab in front of the structure, evidently for the accommodation of worshippers, invited him to rest, and he took the seat, and looking up at the mother, she appeared to be looking at him. he continued his gaze, and presently the face lost its stony appearance--stranger still, it smiled. it was illusion, of course, but he arose startled, and moved on with quickened step. the impression went with him. why the smile? he did not believe in images: much less did he believe in the virgin, except as she was the subject of a goodly story. and absorbed in the thought, he plodded on, leaving the sun to go down unnoticed. thereupon the shadows thickened in the woods at his left hand, while the sound of the incoming waves at his right increased as silence laid its velvet finger with a stronger compress on all other pulsations. here and there a star peeped timidly through the purpling sky--now it was dusk--a little later, it would be night--and yet no castle! he pushed on more vigorously; not that he was afraid--fear and the falcon of mahommed had never made acquaintance--but he began to think of a bed in the woods, and worse yet, he wanted the fast-going daylight to help him decide if the castle when he came to it were indeed the castle of his fathers. he had believed all along, if he could see the pile once, his memory would revive and help him to recognition. at last night fell, and there was darkness trebled on the land, and on the sea darkness, except where ghostly lines of light stretched themselves along the restless water. should he go on?... then he heard a bell--one soft tone near by and silvery clear. he halted. was it of the earth? a hush deeper of the sound--and he was wondering if another illusion were not upon him, when again the bell! "oh!" he muttered, "a trick of the monks in otranto! some soul is passing." he pressed forward, guided by the tolling. suddenly the trees fell away, and the road brought him to a stone wall heavily coped. on further, a blackened mass arose in dim relief against the sky, with heavy merlons on its top. "it is the embattled gate!" he exclaimed, to himself--"the embattled gate!--and here the beach!--and, o allah! the waves there are making the reports they used to!" the bell now tolled with awful distinctness, filling him with unwonted chills--tolled, as if to discourage his memory in its struggle to lift itself out of a lapse apparently intended to be final as the grave--tolled solemnly, as if his were the soul being rung into the next life. a rush of forebodings threatened him with paralysis of will, and it was only by a strong exertion he overcame it, and brought himself back to the situation, and the question, what next? now mirza was not a man to forego a purpose lightly. emotional, but not superstitious, he tried the sword, if it were loose in the scabbard, and then, advancing the point of his javelin, entered the darkened gallery of the gate. just as he emerged from it on the inner side, the bell tolled. "a moslem doth not well," he thought, silently repeating a saying of the _jadis_, "to accept a christian call to prayer; but," he answered in self-excuse, "i am not going to prayer--i am seeking"--he stopped, for very oddly, the face of the virgin in the stone box back in the angle of the road presented itself to him, and still more oddly, he felt firmer of purpose seeing again the smile on the face. then he finished the sentence aloud--"my mother _who is a christian._" there was a jar in the conclusion, and he went back to find it, and having found it, he was surprised. up to that moment, he had not thought of his mother a christian. how came the words in his mouth now? who prompted them? and while he was hastily pondering the effect upon her of the discovery that he himself was an islamite, the image in the box reoccurred to him, this time with the child in its arms; and thereupon the mystery seemed to clear itself at once. "mother and mother!" he said. "what if my coming were the answer of one of them to the other's prayer?" the idea affected him; his spirit softened; the heat of tears sprang to his eyelids; and the effort he made to rise above the unmanliness engaged him so he failed to see the other severer and more lasting struggle inevitable if the countess were indeed the being to whom he owed the highest earthly obligations--the struggle between natural affection and honor, as the latter lay coiled up in the ties binding him to mahommed. the condition, be it remarked, is ours; for from that last appearance of the image by the wayside--from that instant, marking a new era in his life--often as the night and its incidents recurred to him, he had never a doubt of his relationship to the countess. indeed, not only was she thenceforward his mother, but all the ground within the gate was his by natal right, and the castle was the very castle from which he had been carried away, over the body of his heroic father--_he was the count corti_! these observations will bring the reader to see more distinctly the emir's state after passing the gate. of the surroundings, he beheld nothing but shadows more or less dense and voluminous; the mournful murmuring of the wind told him they belonged to trees and shrubbery in clumps. the road he was on, although blurred, was serviceable as a guide, and he pursued it until brought to a building so masked by night the details were invisible. following its upper line, relieved against the gray sky, he made out a broken front and one tower massively battlemented. a pavement split the road in two; crossing it, he came to an opening, choked with timbers and bars of iron; surmisably the front portal at present in disuse. he needed no explanation of its condition. fire and battle were familiars of his. the bell tolled on. the sound, so passing sweet elsewhere, seemed to issue from the yawning portal, leaving him to fancy the interior a lumber of floors, galleries, and roofs in charred tumble down. mirza turned away presently, and took the left branch of the road; since he could not get into the castle, he would go around it; and in doing so, he borrowed from the distance traversed a conception of its immensity, as well as of the importance the countship must have enjoyed in its palmy days. at length he gained the rear of the great pile. the wood there was more open, and he was pleased with the sight of lights apparently gleaming through windows, from which he inferred a hamlet pitched on a broken site. then he heard singing; and listening, never had human voices seemed to him so impressively solemn. were they coming or going? ere long a number of candles, very tall, and screened from the wind by small lanterns of transparent paper, appeared on the summit of an ascent; next moment the bearers of the candles were in view--boys bareheaded and white frocked. as they began to descend the height, a bevy of friars succeeded them, their round faces and tonsured crowns glistening in ruddy contrast with their black habits. a choir of four singers, three men and one woman, followed the monks. then a linkman in half armor strode across the summit, lighting the way for a figure, also in black, which at once claimed mirza's gaze. as he stared at the figure, the account given him by the old captain in otranto flashed upon his memory. the widow of the murdered count had cleared a room in the castle, and fitted it up as a chapel, and every morning and evening she went thither to pray for the soul of her husband and the return of her lost boy. the words were alive with suggestions; but suggestions imply uncertainty; wherefore they are not a reason for the absolute conviction with which the emir now said to himself: "it is she--the countess--my mother!" there must be in every heart a store of prevision of which we are not aware--occasions bring it out with such sudden and bewildering effect. everything--hymn, tolling bell, lights, boys, friars, procession--was accessory to that veiled, slow-marching figure. and in habiliment, movement, air, with what telling force it impersonated sorrow! on the other hand, how deep and consuming the sorrow itself must be! she--he beheld only her--descended the height without looking up or around--a little stooped, yet tall and of dignified carriage--not old nor yet young--a noble woman worthy reverence. while he was making these comments, the procession reached the foot of the ascent; then the boys and friars came between, and hid her from his view. "o allah! and thou his prophet!" he exclaimed. "am i not to see her face? is she not to know me?" curiously the question had not presented itself before; neither when he resolved to come, nor while on the way. to say truth, he had been all the while intent on the one partial object--to see her. he had not anticipated the awakening the sight might have upon his feelings. "am i not to discover myself to her? is she never to know me?" he repeated. the lights in the hands of the boys were beginning to gleam along a beaten road a short distance in front of the agitated emir conducting to the castle. he divined at once that the countess was coming to the chapel for the usual evening service, and that, by advancing to the side of the road, he could get a near view of her as she passed. he started forward impulsively, but after a few steps stopped, trembling like a child imagining a ghost. now our conception of the man forbids us thinking him overcome by a trifle, whether of the air or in the flesh. a change so extreme must have been the work of a revelation of quick and powerful consequence--and it was, although the first mention may excite a smile. in the gleam of mental lightning--we venture on the term for want of another more descriptive--he had been reminded of the business which brought him to italy. let us pause here, and see what the reminder means; if only because the debonair mirza, with whom we have been well pleased, is now to become another person in name and character, commanding our sympathies as before, but for a very different reason. this was what the lightning gave him to see, and not darkly: if he discovered himself to the countess, he must expose his history from the night the rovers carried him away. true, the tale might be given generally, leaving its romance to thrill the motherly heart, and exalt him the more; for to whom are heroes always the greatest heroes? unhappily steps in confession are like links in a chain, one leads to another.... could he, a christian born, tell her he was an apostate? or if he told her, would it not be one more grief to the many she was already breaking under--one, the most unendurable? and as to himself, how could he more certainly provoke a forfeiture of her love?... she would ask--if but to thank god for mercies--to what joyful accident his return was owing? and then? alas! with her kiss on his brow, could he stand silent? more grievous yet, could he deceive her? if nothing is so murderous of self-respect as falsehood, a new life begun with a lie needs no prophet to predict its end. no, he must answer the truth. this conviction was the ghost which set him trembling. an admission that he was a moslem would wound her, yet the hope of his conversion would remain--nay, the labor in making the hope good might even renew her interest in life; but to tell her he was in italy to assist in the overthrow of a christian emperor for the exaltation of an infidel--god help him! was ever such a monster as he would then become in her eyes?... the consequences of that disclosure, moreover, were not to the countess and himself merely. with a sweep of wing one's fancy is alone capable of, he was borne back to the white castle, and beheld mahommed. when before did a prince, contemplating an achievement which was to ring the world, give trust with such absoluteness of faith? poor mirza! the sea rolled indefinitely wide between the white castle and this one of his fathers; across it, nevertheless, he again heard the words: "as thou art to be my other self, be it royally. kings never account to themselves." if they made betrayal horrible in thought, what would the fact be?... finally, last but not least of the reflections the lightning laid bare, the emir had been bred a soldier, and he loved war for itself and for the glory it offered unlike every other glory. was he to bid them both a long farewell? poor mirza! a few paragraphs back allusion was made to a struggle before him between natural affection on one hand and honor on the other. perhaps it was obscurely stated; if so, here it is amended, and stripped of conditions. he has found his mother. she is coming down the road--there, behind the dancing lights, behind the friars, she is coming to pray for him. should he fly her recognition or betray his confiding master? room there may be to say the alternatives were a judgment upon him, but who will deny him pity? ... there is often a suffering, sometimes an agony, in indecision more wearing than disease, deadlier than sword-cuts. the mournful pageant was now where its lights brought out parts of the face of the smoke-stained building. with a loud clang a door was thrown open, and a friar, in the black vestments usual in masses for the dead, came out to receive the countess. the interior behind him was dully illuminated. a few minutes more, and the opportunity to see her face would be lost. still the emir stood irresolute. judge the fierceness of the conflict in his breast! at last he moved forward. the acolytes, with their great candles of yellow wax, were going by as he gained the edge of the road. they looked at him wonderingly. the friars, in dominican cassocks, stared at him also. then the choir took its turn. the linkman at sight of him stopped an instant, then marched on. the emir really beheld none of them; his eyes and thoughts were in waiting; and now--how his heart beat!--how wistfully he gazed!--the countess was before him, not three yards away. her garments, as said, were all black. a thick veil enveloped her head; upon her breast her crossed hands shone ivory white. two or three times the right hand, in signing the cross, uncovered a ring upon the left--the wedding ring probably. her bearing was of a person not so old as persecuted by an engrossing anguish. she did not once raise her face. the emir's heart was full of prayer. "o allah! it is my mother! if i may not speak to her, or kiss her feet--if i may not call her mother--if i may not say, mother, mother, behold, i am thy son come back--still, as thou art the most merciful! let me see her face, and suffer her to see mine--once, o allah! once, if nevermore!" but the face remained covered--and so she passed, but in passing she prayed. though the voice was low, lie heard these words: "oh, sweet mother! by the blessed son of thy love and passion, remember mine, i beseech thee. be with him, and bring him to me quickly. miserable woman that i am!" the world, and she with it, swam in the tears he no longer tried to stay. stretching his arms toward her, he fell upon his knees, then upon his face; and that the face was in the dust, he never minded. when he looked up, she was gone on, the last of the procession. and he knew she had not seen him. he followed after. everybody stood aside to let her enter the door first. the friar received her; she went in, and directly the linkman stood alone outside. "stay!" said the linkman, peremptorily. "who art thou?" thus rudely challenged, the emir awoke from his daze--awoke with all his faculties clear. "a gentleman of otranto," he replied. "what is thy pleasure?" "admit me to the chapel." "thou art a stranger, and the service is private. or hast thou been invited?" "no." "thou canst not enter." again the world dropped into darkness before mirza; but this time it was from anger. the linkman never suspected his peril. fortunately for him, the voice of the female chorister issued from the doorway in tremulous melody. mirza listened, and became tranquillized. the voice sank next into a sweet unearthly pleading, and completely subdued, he began arguing with himself.... she had not seen him while he was in the dust at her side, and now this repulse at the door--how were they to be taken except as expressions of the will of heaven?... there was plenty of time--better go away, and return--perhaps to-morrow. he was not prepared to prove his identity, if it were questioned.... there would be a scene, and he shrank from it.... yes, better retire now.... and he turned to go. not six steps away, the countess reappeared to his excited mind, exactly as she had passed praying for him--reappeared-- ... "like the painting of a sorrow." a revulsion of feeling seized him--he halted. oh, the years she had mourned for him! her love was deep as the sea! tears again--and without thought of what he did--all aimlessly--he returned to the door. "this castle was sacked and burned by pirates, was it not?" he asked the linkman. "yes." "they slew the count corti?" "yes." "and carried off his son?" "yes." "had he other children?" "no." "what was the name of the boy?" "ugo." "well--in thy ear now--thou didst not well in shutting me out--_i am that ugo._" thereupon the emir walked resolutely away. a cry, shrill and broken, overtook him, issuing apparently from the door of the chapel--a second time he heard it, more a moan than a shriek--and thinking the linkman had given the alarm, he quickened his pace to a run, and was soon out on the beach. the breath of the sea was pleasant and assuring, and falling into a walk, he turned his face toward brindisi. but the cry pursued him. he imagined the scene in the chapel--the distress of the countess--the breaking up of the service--the hurry of question--a consultation, and possibly search for him. every person in the procession but the countess had seen him; so the only open point in the affair was the one of directest interest to her: was it her son? undoubtedly the suffering lady would not rest until investigation was exhausted. failing to find the stranger about the castle, horsemen might be sent out on the road. there is terrible energy in mother-love. these reflections stimulated the emir to haste. sometimes he even ran; only at the shrine of the virgin and child in the angle of the road did he halt. there he cast himself upon the friendly slab to recover breath. all this of course indicated a preference for mahommed. and now he came to a decision. he would proceed with the duty assigned him by the young master; then, at the end, he would come back, and assert himself in his native land. he sat on the slab an hour or more. at intervals the outcry, which he doubted not was his mother's, rang in his ears, and every time he heard it, conscience attacked him with its whip of countless stings. why subject her to more misery? for what other outcome could there be to the ceaseless contention of fears and hopes now hers? oh, if she had only seen him when he was so near her in the road! that she did not, was the will of allah, and the fatalistic mohammedan teaching brought him a measure of comfort. in further sooth, he had found a location and a title. thenceforward, and not fictitiously, he was the _count corti_; and so entitling himself, he determined to make brindisi, and take ship for genoa or venice in the morning before a messenger could arrive from the castle. as he arose from the slab, a bird in housel for the night flew out of the box. its small cheep reminded him of the smile he had fancied on the face of the madonna, and how, a little later, the smile had, with such timely suggestion of approval, woven itself into his thought of the countess. he looked up at the face again; but the night was over it like a veil, and he went nearer, and laid his hand softly on the child. that which followed was not a miracle; only a consequence of the wisdom which permits the enshrinement of a saintly woman and holy child as witnesses of the divine goodness to humanity. he raised himself higher in the box, and pushing aside a heap of faded floral offerings, kissed the foot of the taller image, saying: "thus would i have done to my mother." and when he had climbed down, and was in the road, it seemed some one answered him: "go thy way! god and allah are the same." we may now urge the narrative. from brindisi the emir sailed to venice. two weeks in "the glorious city in the sea" informed him of it thoroughly. while there, he found, on the "ways" of an adriatic builder, the galley in which we have seen him at anchor in the golden horn. leaving an order for the employment of a sailing-master and crew when the vessel was complete, he departed next for rome. at padua he procured the harness of a man-at-arms of the period, and recruited a company of _condottieri_--mercenary soldiers of every nationality. with all his sacerdotal authority, nicholas v., the holy father, was sorely tried in keeping his states. the freebooters who unctuously kissed his hand to-day, did not scruple, if opportunity favored, to plunder one of his towns tomorrow. it befell that count corti--so the emir styled himself--found a papal castle beleaguered by marauders, whom he dispersed, slaying their chief with his own hand. nicholas, in public audience, asked him to name the reward he preferred. "knighthood at thy hands, first of all things," was the reply. the holy father took a sword from one of his officers, and gave him the _accolade_. "what next, my son?" "i am tired fighting men who ought to be christians. give me, i pray, thy commission to make war upon the barbary pirates who infest the seas." this was granted him. "what next?" "nothing, holy father, but thy blessing, and a certificate in good form, and under seal, of these favors thou hast done me." the certificate and the blessing were also granted. the count then dismissed his lances, and, hastening to naples, embarked for venice. there he supplied himself with suits of the finest milanese armor he could obtain, and a wardrobe consisting of costumes such as were in vogue with the gay gallants along the grand canal. crossing to tripoli, he boarded a moorish merchantman, and made prisoners of the crew and rowers. the prize he gave to his christian sailors, and sent them home. summoning his prisoners on deck, he addressed them in arabic, offering them high pay if they would serve him, and they gratefully accepted his terms. the count then directed his prow to what is now aleppo, with the purpose of procuring arab horses; and having purchased five of the purest blood, he made sail for constantinople. we shall now, for a time, permit the title _emir_ to lapse. the knight we have seen on the deck of the new arrival in the golden horn viewing with melancholy interest the cities on either side of the fairest harbor on earth, is in easy english speech, _count corti_, the italian. thus far the count had been successful in his extraordinary mission, yet he was not happy. he had made three discoveries during his journey--his mother, his country, his religion. ordinarily these relations--if we may so call them--furnish men their greatest sum of contentment; sadly for him, however, he had made a fourth finding, of itself sufficient to dash all the others--in briefest term, he was not in condition to acknowledge either of them. unable to still the cry heard while retiring from his father's ruined castle, he surrendered himself more and more to the wisdom brought away from the box of the madonna and child in the angle of the road to brindisi--_god and allah are the same._ conscience and a growing sense of misappropriated life were making count corti a very different person from the light-hearted emir of mahommed. chapter v the princess irene in town an oblong room divided in the middle crosswise by two fluted pillars of pink-stained marble, light, delicately capped, and very graceful--between the pillars a segmental arch--between the walls and the pillars square ties;--the wall above the pillars elaborately scrolled;--three curtains of woollen stuff uniformly tyrian dyed filling the open places--the central curtain drawn to the pillars, and held there by silken ropes richly tasselled--the side curtains dropped;--a skylight for each division of the room, and under each skylight an ample brazier dispensing a comfortable degree of warmth;--floor laid in pink and saffron tiles;--chairs with and without arms, some upholstered, all quaintly carved--to each chair a rug harmoniously colored;--massive tables of carven wood, the tops of burnished copper inlaid with blocks of jasper, mostly red and yellow--on the tables murrhine pitchers vase-shaped, with crystal drinking goblets about them;--the skylights conical and of clear glass;--the walls panelled, a picture in every panel, and the raised margins and the whole space outside done in arabesque of studied involution;--doors opposite each other and bare;--such was the reception-room in the town-house of the princess irene arranged for the winter. on an armless chair in one of the divisions of the beautiful room, the princess sat, slightly bending over a piece of embroidery stretched upon a frame. what with the accessories about her--the chair, a small table at her right covered with the bright materials in use, the slanted frame, and a flexible lion's skin under her feet--she was a picture once seen never forgotten. the wonderful setting of the head and neck upon the phidian shoulders was admirably complemented by the long arms, bare, round, and of the whiteness of an almond kernel freshly broken, the hands, blue-veined and dimpled, and the fingers, tapering, pliant, nimble, rapid, each seemingly possessed of a separate intelligence. to the left of the princess, a little removed, lael half reclined against a heap of cushions, pale, languid, and not wholly recovered from the effects of the abduction by demedes, the terrible doom which had overtaken her father, and the disappearance of the prince of india, the latter unaccountable except upon the hypothesis of death in the great fire. the dying prayer of the son of jahdai had not failed with the princess irene. receiving the unfortunate girl from sergius the day after the rescue from the cistern, she accepted the guardianship, and from that hour watched and tended her with maternal solicitude. the other division of the room was occupied by attendants. they were visible through the opening left by the drawn curtain; yet it is not to be supposed they were under surveillance; on the contrary, their presence in the house was purely voluntary. they read, sang, accepted tasks in embroidery from their mistress, accompanied her abroad, loved her--in a word, their service was in every respect compatible with high rank, and in return they derived a certain education from her. for by universal acknowledgment she was queen and arbiter in the social world of byzantium; in manner the mirror, in taste and fashion its very form. indeed, she was the subject of but one objection--her persistent protest against the encumbrance of a veil. with all her grave meditation, she never lectured her attendants, knowing probably that sermons in example are more impressive than sermons in words. in illustration of the freedom they enjoyed in her presence and hearing, one of them, behind the curtain, touched a stringed instrument--a cithern--and followed the prelude with a song of anacreontic vein. the golden noon. if my life were but a day-- one morn, one night, with a golden noon for play, and i, of right, could say what i would do with it--what would i do? penance to me--e'en the stake, and late or soon!-- yet would love remain to make that golden noon delightful--i would do-- ah, love, what would i do? and when the singer ceased there was a merry round of applause. the ripple thus awakened had scarcely subsided, when the ancient lysander opened one of the doors, and, after ringing the tiled floor with the butt of his javelin, and bowing statelywise, announced sergius. taking a nod from the princess, he withdrew to give the visitor place. sergius went first to irene, and silently kissed her hand; then, leaving her to resume work, he drew a chair to lael's side. under his respectful manner there was an ease which only an assurance of welcome could have brought him. this is not to be taken in the sense of familiarity; if he ever indulged that vulgarism--something quite out of character with him--it was not in his intercourse with the princess. she did not require formality; she simply received courtesy from everybody, even the emperor, as a natural tribute. at the same time, sergius was nearer in her regard than any other person, for special reasons. we have seen the sympathetic understanding between the two in the matter of religion. we have seen, also, why she viewed him as a protege. never had one presented himself to her so gentle and unconventional never one knowing so little of the world. with life all before him, with its ways to learn, she saw he required an adviser through a period of tutelage, and assumed the relation partly through a sense of duty, partly from reverent recollection of father hilarion. these were arguments sound in themselves; but two others had recently offered. in the first place she was aware of the love which had arisen between the monk and lael. she had not striven to spy it out. like children, they had affected no disguise of their feeling; and while disallowing the passion a place in her own breast, she did not deprecate or seek to smother it in others. far from that, in these, her wards, so to speak, it was with her an affair of permissive interest. they were so lovable, it seemed an order of nature they should love each other. next, the world was dealing harshly with sergius; and though he strove manfully to hide the fact, she saw he was suffering. he deserved well, she thought, for his rescue of lael, and for the opportunity given the emperor to break up the impiety founded by demedes. unhappily her opinion was not subscribed in certain quarters. the powerful brotherhood of the st. james' amongst others was in an extreme state of exasperation with him. they insisted he could have achieved the rescue without the death of the greek. they went so far as to accuse him of a double murder--of the son first, then of the father. a terrible indictment! and they were bold and open-mouthed. out of respect for the emperor, who was equally outspoken in commendation of sergius, they had not proceeded to the point of expulsion. the young man was still of the brotherhood; nevertheless he did not venture to exercise any of the privileges of a member. his cell was vacant. the five services of the day were held in the chapel without him. in short, the brotherhood were in wait for an opportunity to visit him with their vengeance. in hope of a favorable turn in the situation, he wore the habit of the order, but it was his only outward sign of fraternity. without employment, miserable, he found lodgment in the residence of the patriarch, and what time he was not studying, he haunted the old churches of the city, sancta sophia in especial, and spent many hours a dreaming voyager on the bosphorus. the glad look which shone in the eyes of the invalid when sergius took seat by her was very noticeable; and when she reached him her hand, the kiss he left upon it was of itself a declaration of tender feeling. "i hope my little friend is better, to-day," he said, gravely. "yes, much better. the princess says i may go out soon--the first real spring day." "that is good news. i wish i could hurry the spring. i have everything ready to take you on the water--a perfect boat, and two master rowers. yesterday they carried me to the black sea and back, stopping for a lunch of bread and figs at the foot of the giants' mountain. they boast they can repeat the trip often as there are days in the week." "did you stop at the white castle?" she asked, with a smile. "no. our noble princess was not with me; and in her absence, i feared the governor might forget to be polite as formerly." the gracious lady, listening, bent lower over the frame before her. she knew so much more of the governor than lael did! but lael then inquired: "where have you been to-day?" "well, my little friend, let me see if i can interest you.... this morning i awoke betimes, and set myself to study. oh, those chapters of john--the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth. there is no need of religious knowledge beyond them. of the many things they make clear, this is the clearest--the joys of eternal life lie in the saying of the lord, 'i am the way, and the truth, and the life; no man cometh unto the father but by me.' ... after my hours of study, i went to see an old church over in the low garden grounds beyond the aqueduct. before i could get through the doorway, a flock of goats had to pass out. i will tell his serenity what i beheld. better the wreck be cleaned from the face of the earth than desecrated. holy ground once, holy ground forever." "where is the church?" the princess inquired. "in the low grounds between the aqueduct, and the gates of st. romain and adrianople." "it belongs to one of the brotherhoods. they have farming right in the soil." "i am sorry to hear it." as she turned to her work again, he went on with his account of himself. "i had then two hours and more till noon, and was at loss what to do. finally i decided to go to the port of blacherne--a long walk, but not too long, considering my motive.... princess, have you heard of the italian newly arrived?" "what of him, pray?" "he is the talk of the city, and if the half told of him be true, we must needs wonder. he travels in his own ship. merchants have that habit, but he is not a merchant. kings do so, but he is not a king. he came in saluting with a gun, in style becoming a great admiral; but if he is an admiral, his nationality is a secret. he also flies an unknown flag. they report him further as standing much on his deck in a suit of armor glistening like silver. and what is he? mouth speaketh unto mouth, with no one to answer. they go then to his ship, pronouncing it the most perfect thing of the kind ever seen in the harbor. those who have rowed around it say the sailors are not white men, but dark-faced creatures in turbans and black beards, un-christian and ugly-looking. fishermen and fruiterers have been permitted on deck--nobody else--and they, returning alive, say the rowers, of whom they caught glimpses, are blacker than the sailors. they also overheard strange noises below--voices not human." the countenance of the princess during this recital gradually changed; she seemed disposed to laugh at the exaggerations of the populace. "so much for town-talk," sergius continued. "to get sight of the ship, and of the mysterious magnate, i walked across the city to the port of blacherne, and was well rewarded. i found the ship drawn in to the quay, and the work of unloading her in progress. parties of porters were attacking heaps of the cargo already on the landing. where they were taking the goods i could not learn. i saw five horses lifted out of the hold, and led ashore over a bridge dropped from the vessel's side. such horses i never before beheld. two were grays, two bays, and one chestnut-colored. they looked at the sun with wide-open unwinking eyes; they inhaled the air as it were something to drink; their coats shone like silk; their manes were soft like the hair of children; their tails flared out in the breeze like flags; and everybody exclaimed: 'arabs, arabs!' there was a groom for each horse--tall men, lean, dust-hued, turbaned, and in black gowns. at sight of the animals, an old persian who, from his appearance, might have been grandfather of the grooms, begged permission--i could not understand the tongue he used--put his arms around the necks of the animals, and kissed them between the eyes, his own full of tears the while. i suppose they reminded him of his own country.... then two officers from the palace, representatives doubtless of the emperor, rode out of the gate in armor, and immediately the stranger issued from his cabin, and came ashore. i confess i lost interest in the horses, although he went to them and scanned them over, lifting their feet and tapping their hoofs with the handle of a dagger. by that time the two officers were dismounted; and approaching with great ceremony, they notified him they had been sent by his majesty to receive and conduct him to assigned quarters. he replied to them in excellent greek, acknowledging his majesty's graciousness, and the pleasure he would have in their escort. from the cabin, two of his men brought a complete equipment, and placed it on the chestnut steed. the furniture was all sheen of satin and gold. another attendant brought his sword and shield; and after the sword was buckled around him, and the shield at his back, he took hold of the saddle with both hands, and swung himself into the seat with an ease remarkably in contrast with the action of his greek conductors, who, in mounting, were compelled to make use of their stirrups. the cavalcade then passed the gate into the city." "you saw him closely?" lael asked. "to get to his horse, he passed near me as i am to you, my little friend." "what did he wear?" "oh, he was in armor. a cap of blue steel, with a silver spike on the crown--neck and shoulders covered with a hood of mail--body in a shirt of mail, a bead of silver in each link--limbs to the knees in mail. from the knees down there were splints of steel inlaid with silver; his shoes were of steel, and on the heels long golden spurs. the hood was clasped under the chin, leaving the face exposed--a handsome face, eyes black and bright, complexion olive, though slightly bloodless, expression pleasant." "how old is he?" "twenty-six or seven. altogether he reminded me of what i have heard of the warriors who used to go crusading." "what following had he?" this was from the princess. "i can only speak of what i saw--of the keepers of the horses, and of the other men, whom, in my unfamiliarity with military fashions, i will call equerry, armorer, and squire or page. what accounting is to be made of the ship's company, i leave, o princess, to your better knowledge." "my inquiry was of his personal suite." "then i cannot give you a better answer; but if i may say so much, the most unusual thing observable in his followers was, they were all orientals--not one of them had a christian appearance." "well"--and the princess laid her needle down for the first time--"i see how easily a misunderstanding of the stranger may get abroad. let me tell what i know of him.... directly he arrived, he despatched a letter to his majesty, giving an account of himself. he is a soldier by profession, and a christian; has spent much time in the holy land, where he acquired several eastern languages; obtained permission from the pontiff nicholas to make war on the african pirates; manned his galley with captives; and, not wishing to return to his native land and engage in the baronial wars which prevail there at present, he offered his services to his majesty. he is an italian nobleman, entitled _count corti,_ and submitted to his majesty a certificate, under the hand and seal of the holy father, showing that the holy father knighted him, and authorized his crusade against the infidels. the preference for a following composed of orientals is singular; but after all, it is only a matter of taste. the day may come, dear sergius, when the christian world will disapprove his method of getting title to servants; but it is not here now.... if further discussion of the count takes place in your presence, you are at liberty to tell what i tell you. at blacherne yesterday i had the particulars, together with the other circumstance, that the emperor gladly accepted the italian's overture, and assigned him quarters in the palace of julian, with leave to moor his galley in the port there. few noble foreigners have sought our empire bringing better recommendations." the fair lady then took up her needle, and was resuming work, when lysander entered, and, after thumping the floor, announced: "three o'clock." the princess silently arose, and passed out of the room; at the same time there was a commotion behind the curtain, and presently the other apartment was vacated. sergius lingered a moment. "tell me now of yourself," lael said, giving him her hand. he kissed the hand fondly, and replied: "the clouds still hang low and dark over me; but my faith is not shaken; they will blow away; and in the meantime, dear little friend, the world is not all cheerless--you love me." "yes, i love you," she said, with childish simplicity. "the brotherhood has elected a new hegumen," he continued. "a good man, i hope." "the violence with which he denounced me was the chief argument in his favor. but god is good. the emperor, the patriarch, and the princess irene remain steadfast. against them the hegumen will be slow in proceeding to my expulsion. i am not afraid. i will go on doing what i think right. time and patience are good angels to the unjustly accused. but that any one should hold it a crime to have rescued you--o little friend, dear soul! see the live coal which does not cease burning!" "and nilo?" "he wants nothing in the way of comforts." "i will go see the poor man the first thing when i get out." "his cell in the cynegion is well furnished. the officer in charge has orders direct from the emperor to see that he suffers no harm. i saw him day before yesterday. he does not know why he is a prisoner, but behaves quietly. i took him a supply of tools, and he passes the time making things in use in his country, mostly implements of war and hunting. the walls of his cell are hung with bows, arrows and lances of such curious form that there is always quite a throng to see them. he actually divides honor with tamerlane, the king of the lions." "it should be a very noble lion, for that." sergius, seeing her humor, went on: "you say truly, little friend. he has in hand a net of strong thread and thousands of meshes already. 'what is it for?' i asked. in his pantomimic way he gave me to understand: 'in my country we hunt lions with it.' 'how?' said i. and he showed me two balls of lead, one in each corner of the net. taking the balls in his hands: 'now we are in front of the game--now it springs at us--up they go this way.' he gave the balls a peculiar toss which sent them up and forward on separating lines. the woven threads spread out in the air like a yellow mist, and i could see the result--the brute caught in the meshes, and entangled. then the brave fellow proceeded with his pantomime. he threw himself to one side out of the way of the leap--drew a sword, and stabbed and stabbed--and the triumph in his face told me plainly enough. 'there--he is dead!' just now he is engaged on another work scarcely less interesting to him. a dealer in ivory sent him an elephant's tusk, and he is covering it with the story of a campaign. you see the warriors setting out on the march--in another picture they are in battle--a cloud of arrows in flight--shields on arm--bows bent--and a forest of spears. from the large end he is working down toward the point. the finish will be a victory, and a return with captives and plunder immeasurable.... he is well cared for; yet he keeps asking me about his master the prince of india. where is he? when will he come? when he turns to that subject i do not need words from him. his soul gets into his eyes. i tell him the prince is dead. he shakes his head: 'no, no!' and sweeping a circle in the air, he brings his hands to his breast, as to say: 'no, he is travelling--he will come back for me.'" sergius had become so intent upon the description that he lost sight of his hearer; but now a sob recalled him. bending lower over the hand, he caressed it more assiduously than ever, afraid to look into her face. when at length the sobbing ceased, he arose and said, shamefacedly: "o dear little friend, you forgive me, do you not?" from his manner one would have thought he had committed an offence far out of the pale of condonement. "poor sergius," she said. "it is for me to think of you, not you of me." he tried to look cheerful. "it was stupid in me. i will be more careful. your pardon is a sweet gift to take away.... the princess is going to sancta sophia, and she may want me. to-morrow--until to-morrow--good-by." this time he stooped, and kissed her on the forehead; next moment she was alone. chapter vi count corti in sancta sophia the palace of julian arose the chief embellishment of a large square enclosure on the sea front southeast of the landmark at present called the burnt column, and, like other imperial properties of the kind, it was an aggregation of buildings irregular in form and style, and more or less ornate and imposing. a garden stretched around it. the founder, wanting private harborage for his galleys and swarm of lesser boats, dug a basin just inside the city wall, and flooded it with pure marmoran water; then, for ingress and egress at his sovereign will, he slashed the wall, and of the breach made the _port of julian_. [footnote: only a shallow depression in the ground, faintly perpetuating the outlines of the harbor, now marks the site of this royal residence.] count corti found the palace well preserved in and out. he had not purposed hiding himself, yet it was desirable to keep his followers apart much as possible; and for that a situation more to his wish could scarcely have been chosen in the capital. issuing from the front door, a minute's walk through a section of the garden brought him to a stairway defended on both sides with massive balustrading. the flight ended in a spacious paved landing; whence, looking back and up, he could see two immense columnar pedestals surmounted by statues, while forward extended the basin, a sheet of water on which, white and light as a gull, his galley rested. he had but to call the watchman on its deck, and a small boat would come to him in a trice. he congratulated himself upon the lodgement. the portion of the palace assigned him was in the south end; and, although he enlisted a number of skilful upholsterers, a week and more was industriously taken with interior arrangements for himself, and in providing for the comfort and well-being of his horses; for it is to be said in passing, he had caught enough of the spirit of the nomadic turk to rate the courser which was to bear him possibly through foughten fields amongst the first in his affections. in this preparation, keeping the scheme to which his master had devoted him ever present, he required no teaching to point out the policy of giving his establishment an air of permanence as well as splendor. occupied as he was, he had nevertheless snatched time to look in upon the hippodrome, and walk once around the bucoleon and sancta sophia. from a high pavilion overhanging his quarters, he had surveyed the stretches of city in the west and southwest, sensible of a lively desire to become intimately acquainted with the bizarre panorama of hills behind hills, so wonderfully house and church crowned. to say truth, however, the count was anxious to hear from the sultan before beginning a career. the man who was to be sent to him might appear any hour, making it advisable to keep close home. he had a report of the journey to italy, and of succeeding events, including his arrival at constantinople, ready draughted, and was impatient to forward it. a word of approval from mahommed would be to him like a new spirit given. he counted upon it as a cure for his melancholia. viewing the galley one day, he looked across the basin to where the guard of the port was being changed, and was struck with the foreign air of the officer of the relief. this, it happened, was singularly pertinent to a problem which had been disturbing his active mind--how he could most safely keep in communication with mahommed, or, more particularly, how the sultan's messenger could come with the most freedom and go with the least hindrance. a solution now presented itself. if the emperor intrusted the guardianship of the gate to one foreigner, why not to another? in other words, why not have the duty committed to himself and his people? not improbably the charge might be proposed to him; he would wait awhile, and see; if, however, he had to formally request it, could anything be more plausibly suggestive than the relation between the captaincy of that port and residence in the palace of julian? the idea was too natural to be refused; if granted, he was master of the situation. it would be like holding the keys of the city. he could send out and admit as need demanded; and then, if flight became imperative, behold a line of retreat! here was his galley--yonder the way out. while he pondered the matter, a servant brought him notice of an officer from blacherne in waiting. responding immediately, he found our ancient friend the dean in the reception room, bringing the announcement that his majesty the emperor had appointed audience for him next day at noon; or, if the hour was not entirely convenient, would the count be pleased to designate another? his majesty was aware of the attention needful to a satisfactory settlement in strange quarters, and had not interrupted him earlier; for which he prayed pardon. the count accepted the time set; after which he conducted his visitor through his apartments, omitting none of them; from the kitchen he even carried him to the stable, whence he had the horses brought one by one. hospitality and confidence could go no further, and he was amply rewarded. the important functionary was pleased with all he saw, and with nothing more than corti himself. there could not be a doubt of the friendliness of the report he would take back to blacherne. in short, the count's training in a court dominated by suspicion to a greater degree even than the court in constantinople was drawn upon most successfully. a glass of wine at parting redolent with the perfume of the richest italian vintage fixed the new-comer's standing in the dean's heart. if there had been the least insufficiency in the emblazoned certificate of the holy father, here was a swift witness in confirmation. the day was destined to be eventful to the count. while he was entertaining the dean, the men on the deck of the galley, unused to byzantine customs, were startled by a cry, long, swelling, then mournfully decadent. glancing in the direction from which it came, they saw a black boat sweeping through the water-way of the port. a man of dubious complexion, tall and lithe, his scant garments originally white, now stiff with dirt of many hues, a ragged red head-cloth illy confining his coarse black hair, stood in the bow shouting, and holding up a wooden tray covered with fish. the sentinel to whom he thus offered the stock shook his head, but allowed him to pass. at the galley's side there was an interchange of stares between the sailors and the fishermen--such the tenants of the black craft were--leaving it doubtful which side was most astonished. straightway the fellow in the bow opened conversation, trying several tongues, till finally he essayed the arabic. "who are you?" "sailors." "where from?" "tripoli." "children of the prophet?" "we believe in allah and the last day, and observe prayer, and pay the appointed alms, and dread none but allah; we are among the rightly guided." [footnote: koran, ix. .] "blessed be allah! may his name be exalted here and everywhere!" the fisherman returned; adding immediately: "whom serve you?" "a _scherif_ from italy." "how is he called?" "the count." "where is he?" "in the palace yonder." "a christian?" "a christian with an eastern tongue; and he knows the hours of prayer, and observes them." "does he reside here?" "he is lord of the palace." "when did he arrive?" "since the moon fulled." "does he want fish?" the men on the ship laughed. "go ask him." "that is his landing there?" "yes." "all men who live down by the sea eat fish--when they can get them," the dealer said, solemnly. turning then to his rowers, he bade them: "forward to the landing." there he stepped out, dextrously balanced the tray on his head, ascended the stairs, and in front of the great house went persistently from door to door until he came to that of the count. "fish?" he asked the man who answered his knock. "i will see." the doorkeeper returned shortly, and said, "no." "are you a moslem?" the fisherman inquired. "yes. blessed be allah for the right understanding!" "so am i. now let me see the master. i want to furnish him with fish for the season." "he is engaged." "i will wait for him. tell him my catch is this morning's--red mullets and choice cuts from a royal sword-fish that leaped ten feet in the air with the spear in his back." thereupon he deposited the tray, and took seat by it, much as to say, time is of no consequence to me. ere long the count appeared with the dean. he glanced at the tray, then at the fisherman--to the latter he gave a second look. "what beautiful fish!" he said, to the dean. "yes, yes--there are no fish pastures like those of our bosphorus." "how do you call this kind?" "mullets--red mullets. the old romans used to fatten them in tanks." "i thought i had seen their like on our italian coasts. how do you prepare them for the table?" "we fry them, count, in olive oil--pure oil." all this time corti was studying the fisherman. "what meal, pray, will fashion allow them to me dished?" he went on. "for breakfast especially; though when you come to dine with his majesty do not be surprised to see them early in course." "pardon the detention, my lord--i will make trial of these in the morning." then to the fisherman the count said, carelessly: "keep thy place until i return." corti saw the dean out of the eastern gate of the enclosure, and returned. "what, still here!" he said, to the dealer. "well, go with the doorkeeper to the kitchen. the cook will take what he needs for to-morrow." speaking to the doorkeeper then: "bring the man to me. i am fond of fishing, and should like to talk with him about his methods. sometime he may be willing to take me with him." by and by the monger was shown into the count's room, where there was a table, with books and writing material--a corner room full lighted by windows in the south and east. when they were alone, the two gazed at each other. "ali, son of abed-din!" said the count. "is it thou?" "o emir! all of me that is not fish is the ali thou hast named." "god is great!" the first exclaimed. "blessed be god!" the other answered. they were acquaintances of long standing. then ali took the red rag from his head, and from its folds produced a strip of fine parchment with writing on it impervious to water. "behold, emir! it is for thee." the count received the scrip and read: "this is he i promised to send. he has money for thee. thou mayst trust him. tell me this time of thyself first; then of her; but always after of her first. my soul is scorching with impatience." there was no date to the screed nor was it signed; yet the count put it to his forehead and lips. he knew the writing as he knew his own hand. "o ali!" he said, his eyes aglow. "hereafter thou shalt be ali the faithful, son of abed-din the faithful." ali replied with a rueful look: "it is well. what a time i have had waiting for you! much i fear my bones will never void the damps blown into them by the winter winds, and i perched on the cross-sticks of a floating _dallyan_.... i have money for you, o emir! and the keeping it has given me care more than enough to turn another man older than his mother. i will bring it to-morrow; after which i shall say twenty prayers to the prophet--blessed be his name!--where now i say one." "no, not to-morrow, ali, but the day after when thou bringest me another supply of fish. there is danger in coming too often--and for that, thou must go now. staying too long is dangerous as coming too often.... but tell me of our master. is he indeed the sultan of sultans he promised to be? is he well? where is he? what is he doing?" "not so fast, o emir, not so fast, i pray you! better a double mouthful of stale porpoise fat, with a fin bone in it, than so many questions at once." "oh, but i have been so long in the slow-moving christian world without news!" "verily, o emir, padishah mahommed will be greatest of the _gabour_ eaters since padishah othman--that to your first. he is well. his bones have reached their utmost limit, but his soul keeps growing--that to your second. he holds himself at adrianople. men say he is building mosques. i say he is building cannon to shoot bullets big as his father's tomb; when they are fired, the faithful at medina will hear the noise, and think it thunder--that to your third. and as to his doing--getting ready for war, meaning business for everybody, from the shiek-ul-islam to the thieving tax-farmers of bagdad--to the kislar-jinn of abad-on with them. he has the census finished, and now the pachas go listing the able-bodied, of whom they have half a million, with as many more behind. they say the young master means to make a _sandjak_ of unbelieving europe." "enough, ali!--the rest next time." the count went to the table, and from a secret drawer brought a package wrapped in leather, and sealed carefully. "this for our lord--exalted be his name! how wilt thou take it?" ali laughed. "in my tray to the boat, but the fish are fresh, and there are flowers of worse odor in cashmere. so, o emir, for this once. next time, and thereafter, i will have a hiding-place ready." "now, ali, farewell. thy name shall be sweet in our master's ears as a girl-song to the moon of ramazan. i will see to it." ali took the package, and hid it in the bosom of his dirty shirt. when he passed out of the front door, it lay undistinguishable under the fish and fish meat; and he whispered to the count in going: "i have an order from the governor of the white castle for my unsold stock. god is great!" corti, left alone, flung himself on a chair. he had word from mahommed--that upon which he counted so certainly as a charm in counteraction of the depression taking possession of his spirit. there it was in his hand, a declaration of confidence unheard of in an oriental despot. yet the effect was wanting. even as he sat thinking the despondency deepened. he groped for the reason in vain. he strove for cheer in the big war of which ali had spoken--in the roar of cannon, like thunder in medina--in europe a sultanic _sandjak_. he could only smile at the exaggeration. in fact, his trouble was the one common to every fine nature in a false position. his business was to deceive and betray--whom? the degradation was casting its shadow before. heaven help when the eclipse should be full! for relief he read the screed again: "tell me this time of thyself first; then of _her_." ... ah, yes, the kinswoman of the emperor! he must devise a way to her acquaintance, and speedily. and casting about for it, he became restless, and finally resolved to go out into the city. he sent for the chestnut arab, and putting on the steel cap and golden spurs had from the holy father was soon in the saddle. it was about three o'clock afternoon, with a wind tempered to mildness by a bright sun. the streets were thronged, while the balconies and overhanging windows had their groups on the lookout for entertainment and gossip. as may be fancied the knightly rider and gallant barb, followed by a dark-skinned, turbaned servant in moorish costume, attracted attention. neither master nor man appeared to give heed to the eager looks and sometimes over-loud questions with which they were pursued. turning northward presently, the count caught sight of the dome of sancta sophia. it seemed to him a vast, upturned silver bowl glistening in the sky, and he drew rein involuntarily, wondering how it could be upheld; then he was taken with a wish to go in, and study the problem. having heard from mahommed, he was lord of his time, and here was noble diversion. in front of the venerable edifice, he gave his horse to the dark-faced servant, and entered the outer court unattended. a company, mixed apparently of every variety of persons, soldiers, civilians, monks, and women, held the pavement in scattered groups; and while he halted a moment to survey the exterior of the building, cold and grimly plain from cornice to base, he became himself an object of remark to them. about the same time a train of monastics, bareheaded, and in long gray gowns, turned in from the street, chanting monotonously, and in most intensely nasal tones. the count, attracted by their pale faces, hollow eyes and unkept beards, waited for them to cross the court. unkept their beards certainly were, but not white. this was the beginning of the observation he afterward despatched to mahommed: only the walls of byzantium remain for her defence; the church has absorbed her young men; the sword is discarded for the rosary. nor could he help remarking that whereas the _frati_ of italy were fat, rubicund, and jolly, these seemed in search of death through the severest penitential methods. his thought recurring to the house again, he remembered having heard how every hour of every day from five o'clock in the morning to midnight was filled with religious service of some kind in sancta sophia. a few stone steps the full length of the court led up to five great doors of bronze standing wide open; and as the train took one of the latter and began to disappear, he chose another, and walked fast in order to witness the entry. brought thus into the immense vestibule, he stopped, and at once forgot the gray brethren. look where he might, at the walls, and now up to the ceiling, every inch of space wore the mellowed brightness of mosaic wrought in cubes of glass exquisitely graduated in color. what could he do but stand and gaze at the christ in the act of judging the world? such a cartoon had never entered his imagination. the train was gone when he awoke ready to proceed. there were then nine doors also of bronze conducting from the vestibule. the central and larger one was nearest him. pushed lightly, it swung open on noiseless hinges; a step or two, and he stood in the nave or auditorium of the holy house. the reader will doubtless remember how duke vlodomir, the grandson of olga, the russian, coming to constantinople to receive a bride, entered sancta sophia the first time, and from being transfixed by what he saw and heard, fell down a convert to christianity. not unlike was the effect upon corti. in a sense he, too, was an unbeliever semi-barbaric in education. many were the hours he had spent with mahommed while the latter, indulging his taste, built palaces and mosques on paper, striving for vastness and original splendor. but what was the prince's utmost achievement in comparison with this interior? had it been an ocean grotto, another caprian cave, bursting with all imaginable revelations of light and color, he could not have been more deeply impressed. without architectural knowledge; acquainted with few of the devices employed in edificial construction, and still less with the mysterious power of combination peculiar to genius groping for effects in form, dimensions, and arrangement of stone on stone with beautiful and sublime intent; yet he had a soul to be intensely moved by such effects when actually set before his eyes. he walked forward slowly four or five steps from the door, looking with excited vision--not at details or to detect the composition of any of the world of objects constituting the view, or with a thought of height, breadth, depth, or value--the marbles of the floor rich in multiformity and hues, and reflective as motionless water, the historic pillars, the varied arches, the extending galleries, the cornices, friezes, balustrades, crosses of gold, mosaics, the windows and interlacing rays of light, brilliance here, shadows yonder--the apse in the east, and the altar built up in it starry with burning candles and glittering with prismatic gleams shot from precious stones and metals in every conceivable form of grace--lamps, cups, vases, candlesticks, cloths, banners, crucifixes, canopies, chairs, madonnas, child christs and christs crucified--and over all, over lesser domes, over arches apparently swinging in the air, broad, high, near yet far away, the dome of sancta sophia, defiant of imitation, like unto itself alone, a younger sky within the elder--these, while he took those few steps, merged and ran together in a unity which set his senses to reeling, and made question and thought alike impossible. how long the count stood thus lost to himself in the glory and greatness of the place, he never knew. the awakening was brought about by a strain of choral music, which, pouring from the vicinity of the altar somewhere, flooded the nave, vast as it was, from floor to dome. no voice more fitting could be imagined; and it seemed addressing itself to him especially. he trembled, and began to think. first there came to him a comparison in which the kaaba was a relative. he recalled the day he fell dying at the corner under the black stone. he saw the draped heap funereally dismal in the midst of the cloisters. how bare and poor it seemed to him now! he remembered the visages and howling of the demoniac wretches struggling to kiss the stone, though with his own kiss he had just planted it with death. how different the worship here! ... this, he thought next, was his mother's religion. and what more natural than that he should see that mother descending to the chapel in her widow's weeds to pray for him? tears filled his eyes. his heart arose chokingly in his throat. why should not her religion be his? it was the first time he had put the question to himself directly; and he went further with it. what though allah of the islamite and jehovah of the hebrew were the same?--what though the koran and the bible proceeded from the same inspiration?--what though mahomet and christ were alike sons of god? there were differences in the worship, differences in the personality of the worshippers. why, except to allow every man a choice according to his ideas of the proper and best in form and companionship? and the spirit swelled within him as he asked, who are my brethren? they who stole me from my father's house, who slew my father, who robbed my mother of the lights of life, and left her to the darkness of mourning and the bitterness of ungratified hope--were not they the brethren of my brethren? at that moment an old man appeared before the altar with assistants in rich canonicals. one placed on the elder's head what seemed a crown all a mass of flaming jewels; another laid upon him a cloak of cloth of gold; a third slipped a ring over one of his fingers; whereupon the venerable celebrant drew nearer the altar, and, after a prayer, took up a chalice and raised it as if in honor to an image of christ on a cross in the agonies of crucifixion. then suddenly the choir poured its triumphal thunder abroad until the floor, and galleries, and pendant lamps seemed to vibrate. the assistants and worshippers sank upon their knees, and ere he was aware the count was in the same attitude of devotion. the posture consisted perfectly with policy, his mission considered. soon or late he would have to adopt every form and observance of christian worship. in this performance, however, there was no premeditation, no calculation. in his exaltation of soul he fancied he heard a voice passing with the tempestuous jubilation of the singers: "on thy knees, o apostate! on thy knees! god is here!" but his was a combative nature; and coming to himself, and not understanding clearly the cause of his prostration, he presently arose. of the worshippers in sight, he alone was then standing, and the sonorous music ringing on, he was beginning to doubt the propriety of his action, when a number of women, unobserved before, issued from a shaded corner at the right of the apse, fell into processional order, and advanced slowly toward him. one moved by herself in front. a reflection of her form upon the polished floor lent uncertainty to her stature, and gave her an appearance of walking on water. those following were plainly her attendants. they were all veiled; while a white mantle fell from her left shoulder, its ends lost in the folds of the train of her gown, leaving the head, face, and neck bare. her manner, noticeable in the distance even, was dignified without hauteur, simple, serious, free of affectation. she was not thinking of herself.... nearer--he heard no foot-fall. now and then she glided through slanting rays of soft, white light cast from upper windows, and they seemed to derive ethereality from her.... nearer--and he could see the marvellous pose of the head, and the action of the figure, never incarnation more graceful.... yet nearer--he beheld her face, in complexion a child's, in expression a woman's. the eyes were downcast, the lips moved. she might have been the theme of the music sweeping around her in acclamatory waves, drowning the part she was carrying in suppressed murmur. he gazed steadfastly at the countenance. the light upon the forehead was an increasing radiance, like a star's refined by passage through the atmospheres of infinite space. a man insensitive to beauty in woman never was, never will be. vows cannot alter nature; neither can monkish garbs nor years; and it is knowledge of this which makes every woman willing to last sacrifices for the gift; it is power to her, vulgarizing accessories like wealth, coronets and thrones. with this confession in mind, words are not needed to inform the reader of the thrills which assailed the count while the marvel approached. the service was over as to her, and she was evidently seeking to retire by the main door; but as he stood in front of it, she came within two or three steps before noticing him. then she stopped suddenly, astonished by the figure in shining armor. a flush overspread her face; smiling at her alarm, she spoke: "i pray pardon, sir knight, for disturbing thy devotions." "and i, fair lady, am grateful to heaven that it placed me in thy way to the door unintentionally." he stepped aside, and she passed on and out. the interior of the church, but a minute before so overwhelmingly magnificent and impressive, became commonplace and dull. the singing rolled on unheard. his eyes fixed on the door through which she went; his sensations were as if awakening from a dream in which he had seen a heavenly visitant, and been permitted to speak to it. the spell ceased with the music; then, with swift returning sense, he remembered mahommed's saying: "thou wilt know her at sight." and he knew her--the _her_ of the screed brought only that day by ali. nor less distinctly did he recall every incident of the parting with mahommed, every word, every injunction--the return of the ruby ring, even then doubtless upon the imperious master's third finger, a subject of hourly study--the further speech, "they say whoever looketh at her is thenceforward her lover"--and the final charge, with its particulars, concluding: "forget not that in constantinople, when i come, i am to receive her from thy hand peerless in all things as i left her." his shoes of steel were strangely heavy when he regained his horse at the edge of the court. for the first time in years, he climbed into the saddle using the stirrup like a man reft of youth. he would love the woman--he could not help it. did not every man love her at sight? the idea colored everything as he rode slowly back to his quarters. dismounting at the door, it plied him with the repetition, _every man loves her at sight_. he thought of training himself to hate her, but none the less through the hours of the night he heard the refrain, _every man loves her at sight_. in a clearer condition, his very inability to shut her out of mind, despite his thousand efforts of will, would have taught him that another judgment was upon him. he loved her. chapter vii count corti to mahommed at noon the days are a little more yellow, and the shadows a trifle longer, while at evening the snows on the far mountains give the air a coolness gently admonitory of the changing season; with these exceptions there is scarcely a difference between the september to which we now come and the closing stages of june. count corti is fully settled in his position. withal, however, he is very miserable. a new light has been let in upon his being. he finds it a severe trial to serve a mahommedan, knowing himself a christian born, and still more difficult trying to be a turk, knowing himself an italian. the stings grow sharper as experience makes it plainer that he is nefariously helping those whom he ought to regard enemies destroy an emperor and people who never gave him offence. worst of all, most crushing to spirit, is his passion for the princess irene while under obligations to mahommed prohibitory of every hope, dream, and self-promise ordinarily the sweetest incidents of love. the person with a mental ailment curable by prompt decision, who yet goes about debating what to do, will ere long find his will power so weakened as to leave him a confirmed wreck. count corti seemed likely to become an instance in point. the months since his visit to the paternal castle in italy, really the beginning of the conflicts tossing him now here, now there, were full of warnings he could but hear; still he continued his course. his reports to mahommed were frequent, and as they are of importance to our story, we think it advisable to quote from some of them. the following is from his first communication after the visit to sancta sophia: "i cast myself at your feet, o my lord, praying allah to keep you in health, and strengthen the wise designs which occupy you incessantly.... you bade me always speak first of the kinswoman of the emperor. yesterday i rode to the church supreme in the veneration of the greeks, erected, it is said, by the emperor justinian. its vastness amazed me, and, knowing my lord's love for such creations, i declare, were there no other incentive to the conquest of this unbelieving city than the reduction of sancta sophia to the religious usages of islam, its possession would alone justify my lord's best effort, regardless of life and treasure. the riches accumulated in it through the ages are incalculable; nevertheless its splendors, dazzling as the sun, varied as a rainbow, sunk out of sight when the princess irene passed me so near that i had a perfect view of her. her face is composed of the light of unnumbered stars. the union of all the graces in her person is so far above words that hafiz, my lord's prince of poets, would have been dumb before her, or, if he had spoken, it would have been to say, she is the song of songs impossible to verse. she spoke to me as she moved by, and her voice was the voice of love. yet she had the dignity of a queen governing the world through a conqueror such as my lord is to be. then, the door having closed upon her, i was ready to declare, as i now do, were there no other incentive to the conquest of this unbelieving city than the possession of the womanly perfections belonging to her, she would justify war to the exhaustion of the universe. o my lord, thou only art worthy of her! and how infinite will be my happiness, if the prophet through his powerful intercessions with the most merciful, permits me to be the servant instrumental in bringing her safely to thy arms!" this report concluded: "by appointment of his majesty, the emperor, i had audience with him yesterday at his high residence, the palace of blacherne. the court was in full attendance, and, after my presentation to his majesty, i was introduced to its members. the ceremony was in charge of the grand chamberlain, that phranza with whom my lord is acquainted. much i feared lest he should recognize me. fortunately he is dull and philosophical, and too much given to study of things abstract and far away to be mindful of those close under his nose. duke notaras was there also. he conversed with me about italy. fortunately i knew more about the _gabour_ country than he--its nobles, cities, manners, and present conditions. he thanked me for information, and when he had my account of the affair which brought me the invaluable certificate of the bishop of rome he gave over sounding me. i have more reason to be watchful of him than all the rest of the court; _so has the emperor_. phranza is a man to be spared. notaras is a man to be bowstrung.... i flatter myself the emperor is my friend. in another month i shall be intrenched in his confidence. he is brave, but weak. an excellent general without lieutenants, without soldiers, and too generous and trustful for a politician, too religious for a statesman. his time is occupied entirely with priests and priestly ceremonies. my lord will appreciate the resort which enabled me to encamp myself in his trust. of the five arab horses i brought with me from aleppo, i gave him one--a gray, superior to the best he has in his stables. he and his courtiers descended in a body to look at the barb and admire it." from the third report: "a dinner at the high residence. there were present officers of the army and navy, members of the court, the patriarch, a number of the clergy--hegumen, as they are called--and the princess irene, with a large suite of highborn ladies married and unmarried. his majesty was the sun of the occasion, the princess was the moon. he sat on a raised seat at one side of the table; she opposite him; the company according to rank, on their right and left. i had eyes for the moon only, thinking how soon my lord would be her source of light, and that her loveliness, made up of every loveliness else in the world, would then be the fitting complement of my lord's glory.... his majesty did me the honor to lead me to her, and she did me the higher honor of permitting me to kiss her hand. in further thought of what she was to my lord, i was about making her a salaam, but remembered myself--italians are not given to that mode of salutation, while the greeks reserve it for the emperor, or basileus as he is sometimes called.... she condescended to talk with me. her graces of mind are like those of her person--adorable.... i was very deferent, and yielded the choice of topics. she chose two--religion and arms. had she been a man, she would have been a soldier; being a woman, she is a religious devotee. there is nothing of which she is more desirous than the restoration of the holy sepulchre to the christian powers. she asked me if it were true the holy father commissioned me to make war on the tripolitan pirates, and when i said yes, she replied with a fervor truly engaging: 'the practice of arms would be the noblest of occupations if it were given solely to crusading.' ... she then adverted to the holy father. i infer from her speaking of the bishop of rome as the holy father that she inclines to the party which believes the bishop rightfully the head of the church. how did he look? was he a learned man? did he set a becoming example to his clergy? was he liberal and tolerant? if great calamity were to threaten christianity in the east, would he lend it material help?... my lord will have a time winning the princess over to the right understanding; but in the fields of love who ever repented him of his labor? when my lord was a boy, he once amused himself training a raven and a bird of paradise to talk. the raven at length came to say, 'o allah, allah!' the other bird was beyond teaching, yet my lord loved it the best, and excused his partiality: 'oh, its feathers are so brilliant!'" again: "a few days ago, i rode out of the golden gate, and turning to the right, pursued along the great moat to the gate st. romain. the wall, or rather the walls, of the city were on my right hand, and it is an imposing work. the moat is in places so cumbered i doubt if it can be everywhere flooded.... i bought some snow-water of a peddler, and examined the gate in and out. its central position makes it a key of first importance. thence i journeyed on surveying the road and adjacent country up far as the adrianople gate.... i hope my lord will find the enclosed map of my reconnoissance satisfactory. it is at least reliable." again: "his majesty indulged us with a hawking party. we rode to the belgrade forest from which constantinople is chiefly though not entirely supplied with water.... my lord's flower of flowers, the princess, was of the company. i offered her my chestnut courser, but she preferred a jennet. remembering your instructions, o my lord, i kept close to her bridle. she rides wonderfully well; yet if she had fallen, how many prayers to the prophet, what amount of alms to the poor, would have availed me with my lord?... riding is a lost art with the greeks, if the ever possessed it. the falcon killed a heron beyond a hill which none of them, except the emperor, dared cross in their saddles. some day i will show them how we of my lord's loving ride.... the princess came safely home." again: "o my lord in duty always!... i paid the usual daily visit to the princess, and kissed her hand upon my admission and departing. she has this quality above other women--she is always the same. the planets differ from her in that they are sometimes overcast by clouds.... from her house, i rode to the imperial arsenal, situated in the ground story of the hippodrome, northern side. [footnote: professor e a grosvenor.] it is well stored with implements of offence and defence--mangonels, balistas, arbalists, rams--cranes for repairing breaches--lances, javelins, swords, axes, shields, scutums, pavises, armor--timber for ships--cressets for night work--ironmonger machines--arquebuses, but of antique patterns--quarrels and arrows in countless sheaves--bows of every style. in brief, as my lord's soul is dauntless, as he is an eagle, which does not abandon the firmament scared by the gleam of a huntsman's helmet in the valley, he can bear to hear that the emperor keeps prepared for the emergencies of war. indeed, were his majesty as watchful in other respects, he would be dangerous. who are to serve all these stores? his native soldiers are not enough to make a bodyguard for my lord. only the walls of byzantium remain for her defence. the church has swallowed the young men; the sword is discarded for the rosary. unless the warriors of the west succor her, she will be an easy prey." again: "my lord enjoined me to be royal.... i have just returned from a sail up the bosphorus to the black sea in my galley. the decks were crowded with guests. under a silken pavilion pitched on the roof of my cabin, there was a throne for the princess irene, and she shone as the central jewel in a kingly crown.... we cast anchor in the bay of therapia, and went ashore to her palace and gardens. on the outside face of one of the gate-columns, she showed me a brass plate. i recognized my lord's signature and safeguard, and came near saluting them with a _rik'rath_, but restraining myself, asked her innocently, 'what it was?' o my lord, verily i congratulate you! she blushed, and cast down her eyes, and her voice trembled while she answered: 'they say the prince mahommed nailed it there.' 'what prince mahommed?' 'he who is now sultan of the turks.' 'he has been here, then? did you see him?' 'i saw an arab story-teller.' her face was the hue of a scarlet poppy, and i feared to go further than ask concerning the plate: 'what does it mean?' and she returned: 'the turks never go by without prostrating themselves before it. they say it is notice to them that i, and my house and grounds, are sacred from their intrusion.' and then i said: 'amongst peoples of the east and the desert, down far as the barbary coast, the sultan mahommed has high fame for chivalry. his bounties to those once fortunate enough to excite his regard are inexhaustible.' she would have had me speak further of you, but out of caution, i was driven to declare i knew nothing beyond the hearsay of the islamites among whom i had been here and there cast.... my lord will not require me to describe the palace by therapia. he has seen it.... the princess remained there. i was at sore loss, not knowing how i could continue to make report of her to my lord, until, to my relief she invited me to visit her." again: "i am glad to say, for my lord's sake, that the october winds, sweeping down from the black sea, have compelled his princess to return to her house in the city, where she will abide till the summer comes again. i saw her to-day. the country life has retouched her cheeks with a just-sufficient stain of red roses; her lips are scarlet, as if she had been mincing fresh-blown bloom of pomegranates; her eyes are clear as a crooning baby's; her neck is downy--round as a white dove's; in her movements afoot, she reminds me of the swaying of a lily-stalk brushed softly by butterflies and humming-birds, attracted to its open cup of paradisean wax. oh, if i could but tell her of my lord!"... this report was lengthy, and included the account of an episode more personal to the sultanic emissary than any before given his master. it was dated october. the subjoined extracts may prove interesting. ... "everybody in the east has heard of the hippodrome, whither i went one day last week, and again yesterday. it was the mighty edifice in which byzantine vanity aired itself through hundreds of years. but little of it is now left standing. at the north end of an area probably seventy paces wide, and four hundred long, is a defaced structure with a ground floor containing the arsenal, and on that, boxes filled with seats. a lesser building rises above the boxes which is said to have been a palace called the _kathisma_, from which the emperor looked down upon the various amusements of the people, such as chariot racing, and battles between the blue and green factions. around the area from the _kathisma_ lie hills of brick and marble--enough to build the palace as yet hid in my lord's dreams, and a mosque to becomingly house our mohammedan religion. in the midst, marking a line central of the race-course, are three relics--a square pillar quite a hundred feet high, bare now, but covered once with plates of brass--an obelisk from egypt--and a twisted bronze column, representing three writhing serpents, their heads in air. [footnote: the hippodrome was the popular pleasure resort in constantinople. besides accommodating one hundred thousand spectators, it was the most complete building for the purposes of its erection ever known. the world--including old rome--had been robbed of statuary for the adornment of this extravaganza. its enormous level posed in great part upon a substructure of arches on arches, which still exist. the opinion is quite general that it was destroyed by the turks, and that much of its material went to construct the mosque sulymanie. the latter averment is doubtless correct; but it is only justice to say that the crusaders, so called christians, who encamped in constantinople in were the real vandals. for pastime, merely, they plied their battle-axes on the carvings, inscriptions, and vast collection of statuary in marble and bronze found by them on the spinet, and elsewhere in the edifice. when they departed, the hippodrome was an irreparable ruin--a convenient and lawful quarry.]... the present emperor does not honor the ruin with his presence; but the people come, and sitting in the boxes under the kathisma, and standing on the heaps near by, find diversion watching the officers and soldiers exercising their horses along the area.... my lord must know, in the next place, that there is in the city a son of the orchan who terms himself lawful heir of solyman of blessed memory--the orchan pretender to my lord's throne, whom the greeks have been keeping in mock confinement--the orchan who is the subject of the present emperor's demand on my lord for an increase of the stipend heretofore paid for the impostor's support. the son of the pretender, being a turk, affects the martial practices prevalent with us, and enjoys notoriety for accomplishments as a horseman, and in the tourney play djerid. he is even accredited with an intention of one day taking the field against my lord--this when his father, the old orchan, dies.... when i entered the hippodrome one day last week, orchan the younger occupied the arena before the kathisma. the boxes were well filled with spectators. some officers of my acquaintance were present, mounted like myself, and they accosted me politely, and eulogized the performance. afterwhile i joined in their commendation, but ventured to say i had seen better exercise during my sojourn among the infidels in the holy land. they asked me if i had any skill. 'i cannot call it skill,' i said; 'but my instruction was from a noble master, the sheik of the jordan.' nothing would rest them then but a trial. at length i assented on condition that the turk would engage me in a tourney or a combat without quarter--bow, cimeter, spear--on horseback and in moslem armor. they were astonished, but agreed to carry the challenge.... now, o my lord, do not condemn me. my residence here has extended into months, without an incident to break the peace. your pleasure is still my rule. i keep the custom of going about on horseback and in armor. once only--at his majesty's dinner--i appeared in a venetian suit--a red mantle and hose, one leg black, the other yellow--red-feathered cap, shoes with the long points chained to my knees. was there not danger of being mistaken for a strutting bird of show? if my hand is cunning with weapons, should not the greeks be taught it? how better recommend myself to his majesty of blacherne? then, what an opportunity to rid my lord of future annoyance! old orchan cannot live much longer, while this cheeping chicken is young.... the son of the pretender, being told i was an italian, replied he would try a tourney with me; if i proved worthy, he would consider the combat.... yesterday was the time for the meeting. there was a multitude out as witnesses, the emperor amongst others. he did not resort to the _kathisma,_ but kept his saddle, with a bodyguard of horsemen at his back. his mount was my gray arab.... we began with volting, demi-volting, jumping, wheeling in retreat, throwing the horse. orchan was a fumbler.... we took to bows next, twelve arrows each. at full speed he put two bolts in the target, and i twelve, all in the white ring.... then spear against cimeter. i offered him choice, and he took the spear. in the first career, the blunted head of his weapon fell to the ground shorn off close behind the ferrule. the spectators cheered and laughed, and growing angry, orchan shouted it was an accident, and challenged me to combat. i accepted, but his majesty interposed--we might conclude with the spear and sword in tourney again.... my antagonist, charged with malicious intent, resolved to kill me. i avoided his shaft, and as his horse bolted past on my left, i pushed him with my shield, and knocked him from the saddle. they picked him up bleeding nose and ears. his majesty invited me to accompany him to blacherne.... i left the hippodrome sorry not to have been permitted to fight the vain fool; yet my repute in constantinople is now undoubtedly good--i am a soldier to be cultivated." again: "his majesty has placed me formally in charge of the gate in front of my quarters. communication with my lord is now at all times easy. _the keys of the city are in effect mine._ nevertheless i shall continue to patronize ali. his fish are the freshest brought to market." again: "o my lord, the princess irene is well and keeps the morning colors in her cheeks for you. yet i found her quite distraught. there was unwelcome news at the palace from his majesty's ambassador at adrianople. the sultan had at last answered the demand for increase of the orchan stipend--not only was the increase refused, but the stipend itself was withdrawn, and a peremptory order to that effect sent to the province whence the fund has been all along collected.... i made a calculation, with conclusion that my report of the tourney with young orchan reached my lord's hand, and i now am patting myself on the back, happy to believe it had something to do with my lord's decision. the imposition deserved to have its head blown off. orchan is a dotard. his son's ears are still impaired. in the fall the ground caught him crown first. he will never ride again. the pretension is over.... i rode from the princess' house directly to blacherne. the grand council was in session: yet the prefect of the palace admitted me.... o my lord, this constantine is a man, a warrior, an emperor, surrounded by old women afraid of their shadows. the subject of discussion when i went in was the news from adrianople. his majesty was of opinion that your decision, coupled with the order discontinuing the stipend, was sign of a hostile intent. he was in favor of preparing for war. phranza thought diplomacy not yet spent. notaras asked what preparations his majesty had in mind. his majesty replied, buying cannon and powder, stocking the magazines with provisions for a siege, increasing the navy, repairing the walls, clearing out the moat. he would also send an embassy to the bishop of rome, and through him appeal to the christian powers of europe for assistance in men and money. notaras rejoined instantly: 'rather than a papal legate in constantinople, he would prefer a turbaned turk.' the council broke up in confusion.... verily, o my lord, i pitied the emperor. so much courage, so much weakness! his capital and the slender remnant of his empire are lost unless the _gabours_ of venice and italy come to his aid. will they? the holy father, using the opportunity, will try once more to bring the eastern church to its knees, and failing, will leave it to its fate. if my lord knocked at these gates to-morrow, notaras would open one of them, and i another.... yet the emperor will fight. he has the soul of a hero." again: "the princess irene is inconsolable. intensely greek, and patriotic, and not a little versed in politics, she sees nothing cheering in the situation of the empire. the vigils of night in her oratory are leaving their traces on her face. her eyes are worn with weeping. i find it impossible not to sympathize with so much beauty tempered by so many virtues. when the worst has befallen, perhaps my lord will know how to comfort her." finally: "it is a week since i last wrote my lord. ali has been sick but keeps in good humor, and says he will be well when christian winds cease blowing from constantinople. he prays you to come and stop them.... the diplomatic mishaps of the emperor have quickened the religious feuds of his subjects. the latins everywhere quote the speech of notaras in the council: 'rather than a papal legate in constantinople, i prefer a turbaned turk'--and denounce it as treason to god and the state. it certainly represents the true feeling of the greek clergy; yet they are chary in defending the duke.... the princess is somewhat recovered, although perceptibly paler than is her wont. she is longing for the return of spring, and promises herself health and happiness in the palace at therapia.... to-morrow, she informs me, there is to be a special grand service in sancta sophia. the brotherhoods here and elsewhere will be present. i will be there also. she hopes peace and rest from doctrinal disputes will follow. we will see." the extracts above given will help the reader to an idea of life in constantinople; more especially they portray the peculiar service rendered by corti during the months they cover. there are two points in them deserving special notice: the warmth of description indulged with respect to the princess irene and the betrayal of the emperor. it must not be supposed the count was unaware of his perfidy. he did his writing after night, when the city and his own household were asleep; and the time was chosen, not merely for greater security from discovery, but that no eye might see the remorse he suffered. how often he broke off in the composition to pray for strength to rescue his honor, and save himself from the inflictions of conscience! there were caverns in the mountains and islands off in the mid-seas: why not fly to them? alas! he was now in a bondage which made him weak as water. it was possible to desert mahommed, but not the princess. the dangers thickening around the city were to her as well. telling her of them were useless; she would never abandon the old capital; and it was the perpetually recurring comparison of her strength with his own weakness which wrought him his sharpest pangs. writing of her in poetic strain was easy, for he loved her above every earthly consideration: but when he thought of the intent with which he wrote--that he was serving the love of another, and basely scheming to deliver her to him--there was no refuge in flight; recollection would go with him to the ends of the earth--better death. not yet--not yet--he would argue. heaven might send him a happy chance. so the weeks melted into months, and he kept the weary way hoping against reason, conspiring, betraying, demoralizing, sinking into despair. chapter viii our lord's creed proceeding now to the special service mentioned in the extract from the last report of count corti to mahommed. the nave of sancta sophia was in possession of a multitude composed of all the brotherhoods of the city, interspersed with visiting delegations from the monasteries of the islands and many of the hermitic colonies settled in the mountains along the asiatic shore of the marmora. in the galleries were many women; amongst them, on the right-hand side, the princess irene. her chair rested on a carpeted box a little removed from the immense pilaster, and raised thus nearly to a level with the top of the balustrade directly before her, she could easily overlook the floor below, including the apse. from her position everybody appeared dwarfed; yet she could see each figure quite well in the light of the forty arched windows above the galleries. on the floor the chancel, or space devoted to the altar, was separated from the body of the nave by a railing of corinthian brass, inside which, at the left, she beheld the emperor, in basilean regalia, seated on a throne--a very stately and imposing figure. opposite him was the chair of the patriarch. between the altar and the railing arose a baldacchino, the canopy of white silk, the four supporting columns of shining silver. under the canopy, suspended by a cord, hung the vessel of gold containing the blessed sacraments; and to the initiated it was a sufficient publication of the object of the assemblage. outside the railing, facing the altar, stood the multitude. to get an idea of its appearance, the reader has merely to remember the description of the bands marching into the garden of blacherne the night of the _pannychides_. there were the same gowns black and gray; the same tonsured heads, and heads shock-haired; the same hoods and glistening rosaries; the same gloomy, bearded faces; the same banners, oriflammes, and ecclesiastical gonfalons, each with its community under it in a distinctive group. back further towards the entrances from the vestibule was a promiscuous host of soldiers and civilians; having no part in the service, they were there as spectators. the ceremony was under the personal conduct of the patriarch. silence being complete, the choir, invisible from the body of the nave, began its magnificent rendition of the _sanctus_--"holy, holy, holy, lord god of sabaoth. blessed is he who cometh in the name of the lord. hosanna in the highest"--and during the singing, his serenity was clothed for the rite. over his cassock, the deacons placed the surplice of white linen, and over that again a stole stiff with gold embroidery. he then walked slowly to the altar, and prayed; and when he had himself communicated, he was led to the baldacchino, where he blessed the body and the blood, and mixed them together in chalices, ready for delivery to the company of servers kneeling about him. the emperor, who, in common with the communicants within and without the railing, had been on his knees, arose now and took position before the altar in a prayerful attitude; whereupon the patriarch brought him a chalice on a small paten, and he put it to his lips, while the choir rang the dome with triumphal symphony. his serenity next returned to the baldacchino, and commenced giving the cups to the servers; at the same time the gate leading from the chancel to the nave was thrown open. nor rustle of garment, nor stir of foot was heard. then a black-gowned figure arose amidst a group not far from the gate, and said, in a hoarse voice, muffled by the flaps of the hood covering his head and face: "we are here, o serenity, by thy invitation--here to partake of the holy eucharist--and i see thou art about sending it to us. now not a few present believe there is no grace in leavened bread, and others hold it impiety to partake thereof. wherefore tell us"-- the patriarch looked once at the speaker; then, delivering the chalice, signed the servers to follow him; next instant, he stood in the open gateway, and with raised hands, cried out: "holy things to the holy!" repeating the ancient formula, he stepped aside to allow the cup-bearers to pass into the nave; but they stood still, for there came a skurry of sound not possible of location, so did it at the same moment seem to be from the dome descending and from the floor going up to the dome. it was the multitude rising from their knees. now the patriarch, though feeble in body, was stout of soul and ready-witted, as they usually are whose lives pass in combat and fierce debate. regarding the risen audience calmly, he betook himself to his chair, and spoke to his assistants, who brought a plain chasuble, and put it on him, covering the golden stole completely. when he again appeared in the spaceway of the open gate, as he presently did, every cleric and every layman in the church to whom he was visible understood he took the interruption as a sacrilege from which he sought by the change of attire to save himself. "whoso disturbs the sacrament in celebration has need of cause for that he does; for great is his offence whatever the cause." the patriarch's look and manner were void of provocation, except as one, himself rudely disposed, might discover it in the humility somewhat too studied. "i heard my brother--it would be an untruth to say i did not--and to go acquit of deceit, i will answer him, god helping me. let me say first, while we have some differences in our faith, there are many things about which we are agreed, the things in agreement outnumbering those in difference; and of them not the least is the real presence once the sacraments are consecrated. take heed, o brethren! do any of you deny the real presence in the bread and wine of communion?" no man made answer. "it is as i said--not one. look you, then, if i or you--if any of us be tempted to anger or passionate speech, and this house, long dedicated to the worship of god, and its traditions of holiness too numerous for memory, and therefore of record only in the books of heaven, fail the restraints due them, lo, christ is here--christ in real presence--christ our lord in body and blood!" the old man stood aside, pointing to the vessel under the baldacchino, and there were sighs and sobs. some shouted: "blessed be the son of god!" the sensation over, the patriarch continued: "o my brother, take thou answer now. the bread is leavened. is it therefore less grace-giving?" "no, no!" but the response was drowned by an affirmative yell so strong there could be no doubt of the majority. the minority, however, was obstinate, and ere long the groups disrupted, and it seemed every man became a disputant. now nothing serves anger like vain striving to be heard. the patriarch in deep concern stood in the gateway, exclaiming: "have a care, o brethren, have a care! for now is christ here!" and as the babble kept increasing, the emperor came to him. "they are like to carry it to blows, o serenity." "fear not, my son, god is here, and he is separating the wheat from the chaff." "but the blood shed will be on my conscience, and the _panagia_"-- the aged prelate was inflexible. "nay, nay, not yet! they are greeks. let them have it out. the day is young; and how often is shame the miraculous parent of repentance." constantine returned to his throne, and remained there standing. meantime the tumult went on until, with shouting and gesticulating, and running about, it seemed the assemblage was getting mad with drink. whether the contention was of one or many things, who may say? well as could be ascertained, one party, taking cue from the patriarch, denounced the interruption of the most sacred rite; the other anathematized the attempt to impose leavened bread upon orthodox communicants as a scheme of the devil and his arch-legate, the bishop of rome. men of the same opinions argued blindly with each other; while genuine opposition was conducted with glaring eyes, swollen veins, clinched hands, and voices high up in the leger lines of hate and defiance. the timorous and disinclined were caught and held forcibly. in a word, the scene was purely byzantine, incredible of any other people. the excitement afterwhile extended to the galleries, where, but that the women were almost universally of the greek faction, the same passion would have prevailed; as it was, the gentle creatures screamed _azymite, azymite_ in amazing disregard of the proprieties. the princess irene, at first pained and mortified, kept her seat until appearances became threatening; then she scanned the vast pit long and anxiously; finally her wandering eyes fell upon the tall figure of sergius drawn out of the mass, but facing it from a position near the gate of the brazen railing. immediately she settled back in her chair. to justify the emotion now possessing her, the reader must return to the day the monk first presented himself at her palace near therapia. he must read again the confession, extorted from her by the second perusal of father hilarion's letter, and be reminded of her education in the venerated father's religious ideas, by which her whole soul was adherent to his conceptions of the primitive church of the apostles. nor less must the reader suffer himself to be reminded of the consequences to her--of the judgment of heresy upon her by both latins and greeks--of her disposition to protest against the very madness now enacting before her--of her longing, oh, that i were a man!--of the fantasy that heaven had sent sergius to her with the voice, learning, zeal, courage, and passion of truth to enable her to challenge a hearing anywhere-of the persistence with which she had since cared for and defended him, and watched him in his studies, and shared them with him. nor must the later incident, the giving him a copy of the creed she had formulated--the creed of nine words--be omitted in the consideration. now indeed the reader can comprehend the princess, and the emotions with which she beheld the scene at her feet. the patriarch's dramatic warning of the real presence found in her a ready second; for keeping strictly to father hilarion's distinction between a right creed and a form or ceremony for pious observance, the former essential to salvation, the latter merely helpful to continence in the creed, it was with her as if christ in glorified person stood there under the baldacchino. what wonder if, from indignation at the madness of the assembly, the insensate howling, the blasphemous rage, she passed to exaltation of spirit, and fancied the time good for a reproclamation of the primitive church? suddenly a sharper, fiercer explosion of rage arose from the floor, and a rush ensued--the factions had come to blows! then the patriarch yielded, and at a sign from the emperor the choir sang the _sanctus_ anew. high and long sustained, the sublime anthem rolled above the battle and its brutalism. the thousands heard it, and halting, faced toward the apse, wondering what could be coming. it even reached into the vortex of combat, and turned all the unengaged there into peacemakers. another surprise still more effective succeeded. boys with lighted candles, followed by bearers of smoking censers, bareheaded and in white, marched slowly from behind the altar toward the open gate, outside which they parted right and left, and stopped fronting the multitude. a broad banner hung to a cross-stick of gold, heavy with fringing of gold, the top of the staff overhung with fresh flowers in wreaths and garlands, the lower corners stayed by many streaming white ribbons in the hands of as many holy men in white woollen chasubles extending to the bare feet, appeared from the same retreat, carried by two brethren known to every one as janitors of the sacred chapel on the hill-front of blacherne. the emperor, the patriarch, the servers of the chalices, the whole body of assistants inside the railing, fell upon their knees while the banner was borne through the gate, and planted on the floor there. its face was frayed and dim with age, yet the figure of the woman upon it was plain to sight, except as the faint gray smoke from the censers veiled it in a vanishing cloud. then there was an outburst of many voices: "the _panagia!_ the _panagia!_" the feeling this time was reactionary. "o blessed madonna!--guardian of constantinople!--mother of god!--christ is here!--hosannas to the son and to the immaculate mother!" with these, and other like exclamations, the mass precipitated itself forward, and, crowding near the historic symbol, flung themselves on the floor before it, grovelling and contrite, if not conquered. the movement of the candle and censer bearers outside the gate forced sergius nearer it; so when the _panagia_ was brought to a rest, he, being much taller than its guardians, became an object of general observation, and wishing to escape it if possible, he took off his high hat; whereupon his hair, parted in the middle, dropped down his neck and back fair and shining in the down-beating light. this drew attention the more. did any of the prostrate raise their eyes to the madonna on the banner, they must needs turn to him next; and presently the superstitious souls, in the mood for miracles, began whispering to each other: "see--it is the son--it is the lord himself!" and of a truth the likeness was startling; although in saying this, the reader must remember the difference heretofore remarked between the greek and latin ideals. about that time sergius looked up to the princess, whose face shone out of the shadows of the gallery with a positive radiance, and he was electrified seeing her rise from her chair, and wave a hand to him. he understood her. the hour long talked of, long prepared for, was at last come--the hour of speech. the blood surged to his heart, leaving him pallid as a dead man. he stooped lower, covered his eyes with his hands, and prayed the wordless prayer of one who hastily commits himself to god; and in the darkness behind his hands there was an illumination, and in the midst of it a sentence in letters each a lambent flame--the creed of father hilarion and the princess irene--our lord's creed: "i believe in god, and jesus christ, his son." this was his theme! with no thought of self, no consciousness but of duty to be done, trusting in god, he stood up, pushed gently through the kneeling boys and guardians of the _panagia_, and took position where all eyes could look at the blessed mother slightly above him, and then to himself, in such seeming the very son. it might have been awe, it might have been astonishment, it might have been presentiment; at all events, the moaning, sobbing, praying, tossing of arms, beating of breasts, with the other outward signs of remorse, grief and contrition grotesque and pitiful alike subsided, and the church, apse, nave and gallery, grew silent--as if a wave had rushed in, and washed the life out of it. "men and brethren," he began, "i know not whence this courage to do comes, unless it be from heaven, nor at whose word i speak, if not that jesus of nazareth, worker of miracles which god did by him anciently, yet now here in real presence of body and blood, hearing what we say, seeing what we do." "art thou not he?" asked a hermit, half risen in front of him, his wrap of undressed goatskin fallen away from his naked shoulders. "no; his servant only am i, even as thou art--his servant who would not have forsaken him at gethsemane, who would have given him drink on the cross, who would have watched at the door of his tomb until laid to sleep by the delivering angel--his servant not afraid of death, which, being also his servant, will not pass me by for the work i now do, if the work be not by his word." the voice in this delivery was tremulous, and the manner so humble as to take from the answer every trace of boastfulness. his face, when he raised it, and looked out over the audience, was beautiful. the spectacle offered him in return was thousands of people on their knees, gazing at him undetermined whether to resent an intrusion or welcome a messenger with glad tidings. "men and brethren," he continued, more firmly, casting the old scriptural address to the farthest auditor, "now are you in the anguish of remorse; but who told you that you had offended to such a degree? see you not the spirit, sometimes called the comforter, in you? be at ease, for unto us are repentance and pardon. there were who beat our dear lord, and spit upon him, and tore his beard; who laid him on a cross, and nailed him to it with nails in his hands and feet; one wounded him in the side with a spear; yet what did he, the holy one and the just? oh! if he forgave them glorying in their offences, will he be less merciful to us repentant?" raising his head a little higher, the preacher proceeded, with increased assurance: "let me speak freely unto you; for how can a man repent wholly, if the cause of his sin be not laid bare that he may see and hate it? "now before our dear lord departed out of the world, he left sayings, simple even to children, instructing such as would be saved unto everlasting life what they must do to be saved. those sayings i call our lord's creed, by him delivered unto his disciples, from whom we have them: 'verily, verily, i say unto you, he that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life.' so we have the first article--belief in god. again: 'verily, verily, i say unto you, he that believeth on me hath everlasting life.' behold the second article--belief in christ. "now, for that the son, and he who sent him, are at least in purpose one, belief in either of them is declared sufficient; nevertheless it may be simpler, if not safer, for us to cast the two articles together in a single phrase; we have then a creed which we may affirm was made and left behind him by our lord himself: i believe in god, and jesus christ, his son. and when we sound it, lo! two conditions in all; and he who embraces them, more is not required of him; he is already passed from death unto life--everlasting life. "this, brethren, is the citadel of our christian faith; wherefore, to strengthen it. what was the mission of jesus christ our lord to the world? hear every one! what was the mission of our lord jesus christ? why was he sent of god, and born into the world? hearing the question, take heed of the answer: he was sent of god for the salvation of men. you have ears, hear; minds, think; nor shall one of you, the richest in understanding of the scriptures, in walk nearest the sinless example, ever find another mission for him which is not an arraignment of the love of his father. "then, if it be true, as we all say, not one denying it, that our lord brought to his mission the perfected wisdom of his father, how could he have departed from the world leaving the way of salvation unmarked and unlighted? or, sent expressly to show us the way, himself the appointed guide, what welcome can we suppose he would have had from his father in heaven, if he had given the duty over to the angels? or, knowing the deceitfulness of the human heart, and its weakness and liability to temptation, whence the necessity for his coming to us, what if he had given the duty over to men, so much lower than the angels, and then gone away? rather than such a thought of him, let us believe, if the way had been along the land, he would have planted it with inscribed hills; if over the seas, he would have sown the seas with pillars of direction above the waves; if through the air, he would have made it a path effulgent with suns numerous as the stars. 'i am the way,' he said--meaning the way lies through me; and you may come to me in the place i go to prepare for you, if only you believe in god and me. men and brethren, our lord was true to his mission, and wise in the wisdom of his father." at this the hermit in front of the preacher, uttering a shill cry, spread his arms abroad, and quivered from head to foot. many of those near sprang forward to catch him. "no, leave him alone," cried sergius, "leave him alone. the cross he took was heavy of itself; but upon the cross you heaped conditions without sanction, making a burden of which he was like to die. at last he sees how easy it is to go to his master; that he has only to believe in god and the master. leave him with the truth; it was sent to save, not to kill." the excitement over, sergius resumed: "i come now, brethren, to the cause of your affliction. i will show it to you; that is to say, i will show you why you are divided amongst yourselves, and resort to cruelty one unto another; as if murder would help either side of the quarrel. i will show your disputes do not come from anything said or done by our lord, whose almost last prayer was that all who believed in him might be made perfect in one. "it is well known to you that our lord did not found a church during his life on earth, but gave authority for it to his apostles. it is known to you also that what his apostles founded was but a community: for such is the description: 'and all that believed were together, and had all things common; and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men, as every man had need.' [footnote: acts ii. , .] and again: 'and the multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul: neither said any of them that ought of the things which he possessed was his own; but they had all things common.' 'neither was there any among them that lacked: for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them, and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the apostles' feet: and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need.' [footnote: acts iv. , , .] but in time this community became known as the church; and there was nothing of it except our lord's creed, in definition of the faith, and two ordinances for the church--baptism for the remission of sins, that the baptized might receive the comforter, and the sacraments, that believers, often as they partook of the body and blood of christ, might be reminded of him. "lo, now! in the space of three generations this church, based upon this simple creed, became a power from alexandria to lodinum; and though kings banded to tread it out; though day and night the smell of the blood of the righteous spilt by them was an offence to god; though there was no ingenuity more amongst men except to devise methods for the torture of the steadfast--still the church grew; and if you dig deep enough for the reasons of its triumphant resistance, these are they: there was divine life in the creed, and the community was perfect in one; insomuch that the brethren quarrelled not among themselves; neither was there jealousy, envy or rivalry among them; neither did they dispute about immaterial things, such as which was the right mode of baptism, or whether the bread should be leavened or unleavened, or whence the holy ghost proceeded, whether from the father or from the father and son together; neither did the elders preach for a price, nor forsake a poor flock for a rich one that their salaries might be increased, nor engage in building costly tabernacles for the sweets of vanity in tall spires; neither did any study the scriptures seeking a text, or a form, or an observance, on which to go out and draw from the life of the old community that they might set up a new one; and in their houses of god there were never places for the men and yet other separate places for the women of the congregation; neither did a supplicant for the mercy of god look first at the garments of the neighbor next him lest the mercy might lose a virtue because of a patch or a tatter. the creed was too plain for quibble or dispute; and there was no ambition in the church except who should best glorify christ by living most obedient to his commands. thence came the perfection of unity in faith and works; and all went well with the primitive church of the apostles; and the creed was like unto the white horse seen by the seer of the final visions, and the church was like him who sat upon the horse, with a bow in his hand, unto whom a crown was given; and he went forth conquering and to conquer." here the audience was stirred uncontrollably; many fell forward upon their faces; others wept, and the nave resounded with rejoicing. in one quarter alone there was a hasty drawing together of men with frowning brows, and that was where the gonfalon of the brotherhood of the st. james' was planted. the hegumen, in the midst of the group, talked excitedly, though in a low tone. "i will not ask, brethren," sergius said, in continuance, "if this account of the primitive church be true; you all do know it true; yet i will ask if one of you holds that the offending of which you would repent--the anger, and bitter words, and the blows--was moved by anything in our lord's creed, let him arise, before the presence is withdrawn, and say that he thinks. these, lending their ears, will hear him, and so will god. what, will not one arise? "it is not necessary that i remind you to what your silence commits you. rather suffer me to ask next, which of you will arise and declare, our lord his witness, that the church of his present adherence is the same church the apostles founded? you have minds, think; tongues, speak." there was not so much as a rustle on the floor. "it was well, brethren, that you kept silence; for, if one had said his church was the same church the apostles founded, how could he have absolved himself of the fact that there are nowhere two parties each claiming to be of the only true church? or did he assert both claimants to be of the same church, and it the only true one, then why the refusal to partake of the sacraments? why a division amongst them at all? have you not heard the aforetime saying, 'every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation'? "men and brethren, let no man go hence thinking his church, whichever it be, is the church of the apostles. if he look for the community which was the law of the old brotherhood, his search will be vain. if he look for the unity, offspring of our lord's last prayer, lo! jealousies, hates, revilements, blows instead. no, your creed is of men, not christ, and the semblance of christ in it is a delusion and a snare." at this the gonfalon of the st. james' was suddenly lifted up, and borne forward to within a few feet of the gate, and the hegumen, standing in front of it, cried out: "serenity, the preacher is a heretic! i denounce"-- he could get no further; the multitude sprang to foot howling. the princess irene, and the women in the galleries, also arose, she pale and trembling. peril to sergius had not occurred to her when she gave him the signal to speak. the calmness and resignation with which he looked at his accuser reminded her of his master before pilate, and taking seat again, she prayed for him, and the cause he was pleading. at length, the patriarch, waving his hand, said: "brethren, it may be sergius, to whom we have been listening, has his impulse of speech from the spirit, even as he has declared. let us be patient and hear him." turning to sergius, he bade him proceed. "the three hundred bishops and presbyters from whom you have your creeds, [footnote: _encyclopedia brit.,_ vi. .] o men and brethren"--so the preacher continued--"took the two articles from our lord's creed, and then they added others. thus, which of you can find a text of our lord treating of his procession from the substance of god? again, in what passage has our lord required belief in the personage of the holy ghost as an article of faith essential to salvation? [footnote: four creeds are at present used in the roman catholic church; viz., the apostles' creed, the nicene, the athanasian, that of pius iv--add. and ar., _catholic dictionary,_ .] 'i am the way,' said our lord. 'no,' say the three hundred, 'we are the way; and would you be saved, you must believe in us not less than in god and his son.'" the auditors a moment before so fierce, even the hegumen, gazed at the preacher in a kind of awe; and there was no lessening of effect when his manner underwent a change, his head slightly drooping and his voice plaintive. "the spirit by whose support and urgency i have dared address you, brethren, admonishes me that my task is nearly finished." he took hold of the corner of the _panagia;_ so all in view were more than ever impressed with his likeness to their ideal of the blessed master. "the urgency seemed to me on account of your offence to the real presence so graciously in our midst; for truly when we are in the depths of penitence it is our nature to listen more kindly to what is imparted for our good; wherefore, as you have minds, i beg you to think. if our lord did indeed leave a creed containing the all in all for our salvation, what meant he if not that it should stand in saving purity until he came again in the glory of his going? and if he so intended, and yet uninspired men have added other articles to the simple faith he asked of us, making it so much the harder for us to go to him in the place he has prepared for us, are they not usurpers? and are not the articles which they have imposed to be passed by us as stratagems dangerous to our souls? "again. the excellence of our lord's creed by which it may be always known when in question, its wisdom superior to the devices of men, is that it permits us to differ about matters outside of the faith without weakening our relations to the blessed master or imperilling our lot in his promises. such matters, for example, as works, which are but evidences of faith and forms of worship, and the administration of the two ordinances of the church, and god and his origin, and whether heaven be here or there, or like unto this or that. for truly our lord knew us, and that it was our nature to deal in subtleties and speculate of things not intended we should know during this life; the thought of our minds being restless and always running, like the waters of a river on their way to the sea. "again, brethren. if the church of the apostles brought peace to its members, so that they dwelt together, no one of them lacking or in need, do not your experiences of to-day teach you wherein your churches, being those built upon the creed of the three hundred bishops, are unlike it? moreover, see you not if now you have several churches, some amongst you, the carping and ambitious, will go out and in turn set up new confessions of faith, and at length so fill the earth with rival churches that religion will become a burden to the poor and a byword with fools who delight in saying there is no god? in a village, how much better one house of god, with one elder for its service, and always open, than five or ten, each with a preacher for a price, and closed from sabbath to sabbath? for that there must be discipline to keep the faithful together, and to carry on the holy war against sin and its strongholds and captains, how much better one church in the strength of unity than a hundred diversely named and divided against themselves? "the revelator, even that john who while in the spirit was bidden. 'write the things which thou hast seen, and the things which are, and the things which shall be hereafter,' wrote, and at the end of his book set a warning: 'if any man shall add unto these things, god shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book.' i cannot see, brethren, wherein that crime is greater than the addition of articles to our lord's creed; nor do i know any who have more reason to be afraid of those threatened plagues than the priest or preacher who from pride or ambition, or dread of losing his place or living, shall wilfully stand in the way of a return to the church of the apostles and its unity. forasmuch as i also know what penitential life is, and how your minds engage themselves in the solitude of your cells, i give you whereof to think. men and brethren, peace unto you all!" the hermit knelt to the preacher, and kissed his hand, sobbing the while; the auditors stared at each other doubtfully; but the hegumen's time was come. advancing to the gate, he said: "this man, o serenity, is ours by right of fraternity. in thy hearing he hath defamed the creed which is the rock the fathers chose for the foundation of our most holy church. he hath even essayed to make a creed of his own, and present it for our acceptance--thy acceptance, o serenity, and that of his majesty, the only christian emperor, as well as ours. and for those things, and because never before in the history of our ancient and most notable brotherhood hath there been an instance of heresy so much as in thought, we demand the custody of this apostate for trial and judgment. give him to us to do with." the patriarch clasped his hands, and, shaking like a man struck with palsy, turned his eyes upward as if asking counsel of heaven. his doubt and hesitation were obvious; and neighbor heard his neighbor's heart beat; so did silence once more possess itself of the great auditorium. the princess irene arose white with fear, and strove to catch the emperor's attention; but he, too, was in the bonds waiting on the patriarch. then from his place behind the hegumen, sergius spoke: "let not your heart be troubled, o serenity. give me to my brotherhood. if i am wrong, i deserve to die; but if i have spoken as the spirit directed me, god is powerful to save. i am not afraid of the trial." the patriarch gazed at him, his withered cheeks glistening with tears; still he hesitated. "suffer me, o serenity!"--thus sergius again--"i would that thy conscience may never be disquieted on my account; and now i ask not that thou give me to my brotherhood--i will go with them freely and of my own accord." speaking then to the hegumen, he said: "no more, i pray. see, i am ready to be taken as thou wilt." the hegumen gave him in charge of the brethren; and at his signal, the gonfalon was raised and carried through the concourse, and out of one of the doors, followed closely by the brotherhood. at the moment of starting, sergius lifted his hands, and shouted so as to be heard above the confusion: "bear witness, o serenity--and thou, o emperor! that no man may judge me an apostate, hear my confession: i believe in god, and jesus christ, his son." many of those present remained and partook of the sacraments; far the greater number hurried away, and it was not long until the house was vacated. chapter ix count corti to mahommed extract: "god is god, and mahomet is his prophet! may they keep my lord in health, and help him to all his heart's desires! ... it is now three days since my eyes were gladdened by the presence of the princess irene; yet i have been duteously regular in my calls at her house. to my inquiries, her domestic has returned the same answer: 'the princess is in her chapel praying. she is sadly disturbed in mind, and excuses herself to every one.' knowing this information will excite my lord's apprehension, i beg him to accept the explanation of her ailments which i think most probable.... my lord will gratify me by graciously referring to the account of the special meeting in sancta sophia which i had the honor to forward the evening of the day of its occurrence. the conjecture there advanced that the celebration of the sacrament in highest form was a stratagem of the patriarch's looking to a reconciliation of the factions, has been confirmed; and more--it has proved a failure. its effect has inflamed the fanaticism of the greek party as never before. notaras, moved doubtless by gennadius, induced them to suspect his majesty and the patriarch of conniving at the wonderful sermon of the monk sergius; and, as the best rebuke in their power, the brotherhood of the st. james' erected a tribunal of judgment in their monastery last night, and placed the preacher on trial. he defended himself, and drove them to admit his points; that their church is not the primitive church of the apostles, and that their creed is an unwarranted enlargement of the two articles of faith left by jesus christ for the salvation of the world. yet they pronounced him an apostate and a heretic of incendiary purpose, and condemned him to the old lion in the cynegion, tamerlane, famous these many years as a man-eater.... my lord should also know of the rumor in the city which attributes the creed of nine words--'i believe in god, and jesus christ, his son'--to the princess irene; and her action would seem to justify the story. directly the meeting in sancta sophia was over, she hastened to the palace, and entreated his majesty to save the monk from his brethren. my lord may well think the emperor disposed to grant her prayer; his feeling for her is warmer than friendship. the gossips say he at one time proposed marriage to her. at all events, being a tender-hearted man--too tender indeed for his high position--it is easy imagining how such unparalleled beauty in tearful distress must have moved him. unhappily the political situation holds him as in a vice. the church is almost solidly against him; while of the brotherhoods this one of the st. james' has been his only stanch adherent. what shall the poor man do? if he saves the preacher, he is himself lost. it appears now she has been brought to understand he cannot interfere. thrown thus upon the mercy of heaven, she has buried herself in her oratory. oh, the full moon of full moons! and alas! that she should ever be overcast by a cloud, though it be not heavier than the just-risen morning mist. my lord--or allah must come quickly! * * * * * "o my lord! in duty again and always!... ali did not come yesterday. i suppose the high winds were too unfriendly. so the despatch of that date remained on my hands; and i now open it, and include a supplement.... this morning as usual i rode to the princess' door. the servant gave me the same report--his mistress was not receiving. it befalls therefore that my lord must take refuge in his work or in dreams of her--and may i lay a suggestion at his feet, i advise the latter, for truly, if the world is a garden, she is its queen of roses.... for the sake of the love my lord bears the princess, and the love i bear my lord, i did not sleep last night, being haunted with thinking how i could be of service to her. what is the use of strength and skill in arms if i cannot turn them to account in her behalf as my lord would have me?... on my way to the princess', i was told that the monk, who is the occasion of her sorrow, his sentence being on her conscience, is to be turned in with the lion to-morrow. as i rode away from her house in desperate strait, not having it in power to tell my lord anything of her, it occurred to me to go see the cynegion, where the judgment is to be publicly executed. what if the most merciful should offer me an opportunity to do the unhappy princess something helpful? if i shrank from the lion, when killing it would save her a grief, my lord would never forgive me ... . here is a description of the cynegion: the northwest wall of the city drops from the height of blacherne into a valley next the harbor or golden horn, near which it meets the wall coming from the east. right in the angle formed by the intersection of the walls there is a gate, low, very strong, and always closely guarded. passing the gate, i found myself in an enclosed field, the city wall on the east, wooded hills south, and the harbor north. how far the enclosure extends up the shore of the harbor, i cannot say exactly--possibly a half or three quarters of a mile. the surface is level and grassy. roads wind in and out of clumps of selected shrubbery, with here and there an oak tree. kiosk-looking houses, generally red painted, are frequent, some with roofs, some without. upon examination i discovered the houses were for the keeping of animals and birds. in one there was an exhibition of fish and reptiles. but much the largest structure, called the gallery, is situated nearly in the centre of the enclosure; and it astonished me with an interior in general arrangement like a greek theatre, except it is entirely circular and without a stage division. there is an arena, like a sanded floor, apparently fifty paces in diameter, bounded by a brick wall eighteen or twenty feet in height, and from the top of the wall seats rise one above another for the accommodation of common people; while for the emperor i noticed a covered stand over on the eastern side. the wall of the arena is broken at regular intervals by doors heavily barred, leading into chambers anciently dens for ferocious animals, but at present prisons for criminals of desperate character. there are also a number of gates, one under the grand stand, the others forming northern, southern and eastern entrances. from this, i am sure my lord can, if he cares to, draught the cynegion, literally the menagerie, comprehending the whole enclosure, and the arena in the middle of it, where the monk will to-morrow expiate his heresy. formerly combats in the nature of wagers of battle were appointed for the place, and beasts were pitted against each other; but now the only bloody amusement permitted in it is when a criminal or an offender against god is given to the lion. on such occasions, they tell me, the open seats and grand stands are crowded to their utmost capacities.... if the description is tedious, i hope my lord's pardon, for besides wishing to give him an idea of the scene of the execution to-morrow, i thought to serve him in the day he is looking forward to with so much interest, when the locality will have to be considered with a view to military approach. in furtherance of the latter object, i beg to put my lord in possession of the accompanying diagram of the cynegion, observing particularly its relation to the city; by attaching it to the drawings heretofore sent him, he will be enabled to make a complete map of the country adjacent to the landward wall.... ali has just come in. as i supposed, he was detained by the high winds. his mullets are perfection. with them he brings a young sword-fish yet alive. i look at the mess, and grieve that i cannot send a portion to my lord for his breakfast. however, a few days now, and he will come to his own; the sea with its fish, and the land and all that belongs to it. the child of destiny can afford to wait." chapter x sergius to the lion about ten o'clock the day after the date of count corti's last despatch--ten of the morning--a woman appeared on the landing in front of port st. peter, and applied to a boatman for passage to the cynegion. she was thickly veiled, and wore an every-day overcloak of brown stuff closely buttoned from her throat down. her hands were gloved, and her feet coarsely shod. in a word, her appearance was that of a female of the middle class, poor but respectable. the landing was thronged at the time. it seemed everybody wanted to get to the menagerie at once. boatmen were not lacking. their craft, of all known models, lay in solid block yards out, waiting turns to get in; and while they waited, the lusty, half-naked fellows flirted their oars, quarrelled with each other in good nature, greek-like, and yelled volleys at the slow bargain makers whose turns had arrived. twice the woman asked if she could have a seat. "how many of you are there?" she was asked in reply. "i am alone." "you want the boat alone?" "yes." "well, that can't be. i have seats for several--and wife and four babies at home told me to make the most i could out of them. it has been some time since one has tried to look old tamerlane in the eye, thinking to scare him out of his dinner. the game used to be common; it's not so now." "but i will pay you for all the seats." "full five?" "yes." "in advance?" "yes." "jump in, then--and get out your money--fifty-five noumias--while i push through these howling water-dogs." by the time the boat was clear of the pack, truly enough the passenger was with the fare in hand. "look," she said, "here is a bezant." at sight of the gold piece, the man's countenance darkened, and he stopped rowing. "i can't change that. you might as well have no money at all." "friend," she returned, "row me swiftly to the first gate of the cynegion, and the piece is yours." "by my blessed patron! i'll make you think you are on a bird, and that these oars are wings. sit in the middle--that will do. now!" the fellow was stout, skilful, and in earnest. in a trice he was under headway, going at racing speed. the boats in the harbor were moving in two currents, one up, the other down; and it was noticeable those in the first were laden with passengers, those of the latter empty. evidently the interest was at the further end of the line, and the day a holiday to the two cities, byzantium and galata. yet of the attractions on the water and the shores, the woman took no heed; she said never a word after the start; but sat with head bowed, and her face buried in her hands. occasionally, if the boatman had not been so intent on earning the gold piece, he might have heard her sob. for some reason, the day was not a holiday to her. "we are nearly there," he at length said. without lifting the veil, she glanced at a low wall on the left-hand shore, then at a landing, shaky from age and neglect, in front of a gate in the wall; and seeing it densely blockaded, she spoke: "please put me ashore here. i have no time to lose." the bank was soft and steep. "you cannot make it." "i can if you will give me your oar for a step." "i will." in a few minutes she was on land. pausing then to toss the gold piece to the boatman, she heard his thanks, and started hastily for the gate. within the cynegion, she fell in with some persons walking rapidly, and talking of the coming event as if it were a comedy. "he is a russian, you say?" "yes, and what is strange, he is the very man who got the prince of india's negro"-- "the giant?" "yes--who got him to drown that fine young fellow demedes." "where is the negro now?" "in a cell here." "why didn't they give him to the lion?" "oh, he had a friend--the princess irene." "what is to be done with him?" "afterwhile, when the affair of the cistern is forgotten, he will be given a purse, and set free." "pity! for what sport to have seen him in front of the old tartar!" "yes, he's a fighter." in the midst of this conversation, the party came in sight of the central building, externally a series of arches supporting a deep cornice handsomely balustraded, and called the gallery. "here we are!--but see the people on the top! i was afraid we would be too late. let us hurry." "which gate?" "the western--it's the nearest." "can't we get in under the grand stand?" "no, it's guarded." these loquacious persons turned off to make the western gate; but the woman in brown kept on, and ere long was brought to the grand stand on the north. an arched tunnel, amply wide, ran under it, with a gate at the further end admitting directly to the arena. a soldier of the foreign legion held the mouth of the tunnel. "good friend," she began, in a low, beseeching tone, "is the heretic who is to suffer here yet?" "he was brought out last night." "poor man! i am a friend of his"--her voice trembled--"may i see him?" "my orders are to admit no one--and i do not know which cell he is in." the supplicant, sobbing and wringing her hands, stood awhile silent. then a roar, very deep and hoarse, apparently from the arena, startled her and she trembled. "tamerlane!" said the soldier. "o god!" she exclaimed. "is the lion turned in already?" "not yet. he is in his den. they have not fed him for three days." she stayed her agitation, and asked: "what are your orders?" "not to admit any one." "to the cells?" "the cells, and the arena also." "oh, i see! you can let me stand at the gate yonder?" "well--yes. but if you are the monk's friend, why do you want to see him die?" she made no reply, but took from a pocket a bezant, and contrived to throw its yellow gleam in the sentinel's eyes. "is the gate locked?" "no, it is barred on this side." "does it open into the arena?" "yes." "i do not ask you to violate your orders," she continued, calmly; "only let me go to the gate, and see the man when he is brought out." she offered him the money, and he took it, saying: "very well. i can see no harm in that. go." the gate in question was open barred, and permitted a view of nearly the whole circular interior. the spectacle presented was so startling she caught one of the bars for support. throwing back the veil, she looked, breathing sighs which were almost gasps. the arena was clear, and thickly strewn with wet sand. there were the walls shutting it in, like a pit, and on top of them, on the ascending seats back to the last one--was it a cloud she beheld? a second glance, and she recognized the body of spectators, men, women and children, compacted against the sky. how many of them there were! thousands and thousands! she clasped her hands, and prayed. twelve o'clock was the hour for the expiation. waiting so wearily there at the gate--praying, sighing, weeping by turns--the woman was soon forgotten by the sentinel. she had bought his pity. in his eyes she was only a lover of the doomed monk. an hour passed thus. if the soldier's theory were correct, if she were indeed a poor love-lorn creature come to steal a last look at the unfortunate, she eked small comfort from her study of the cloud of humanity on the benches. their jollity, their frequent laughter and hand-clapping reached her in her retreat. "merciful god!" she kept crying. "are these beings indeed in thy likeness?" in a moment of wandering thought, she gave attention to the fastenings of the gate, and observed the ends of the bar across it rested in double iron sockets on the side toward her; to pass it, she had only to raise the bar clear of the socket and push. afterwhile the door of a chamber nearly opposite her opened, and a man stood in the aperture. he was very tall, gigantic even; and apparently surprised by what he beheld, he stepped out to look at the benches, whereat the light fell upon him and she saw he was black. his appearance called for a roar of groans, and he retired, closing the door behind him. then there was an answering roar from a cell near by at her left. the occupants of the benches applauded long and merrily, crying, "tamerlane! tamerlane!" the woman shrank back terrified. a little later another man entered the arena, from the western gate. going to the centre he looked carefully around him; as if content with the inspection, he went next to a cell and knocked. two persons responded by coming out of the door; one an armed guardsman, the other a monk. the latter wore a hat of clerical style, and a black gown dropping to his bare feet, its sleeves of immoderate length completely muffling his hands. instantly the concourse on the benches arose. there was no shouting--one might have supposed them all suddenly seized with shuddering sympathy. but directly a word began passing from mouth to mouth; at first, it was scarcely more than a murmur; soon it was a byname on every tongue: "the heretic! the heretic!" the monk was sergius. his guard conducted him to the centre of the field, and, taking off his hat, left him there. in going he let his gauntlet fall. sergius picked it up, and gave it to him; then calm, resigned, fearless, he turned to the east, rested his hands on his breast palm to palm, closed his eyes, and raised his face. he may have had a hope of rescue in reserve; certain it is, they who saw him, taller of his long gown, his hair on his shoulders and down his back, his head upturned, the sunlight a radiant imprint on his forehead, and wanting only a nimbus to be the christ in apparition, ceased jeering him; it seemed to them that in a moment, without effort, he had withdrawn his thoughts from this world, and surrendered himself. they could see his lips move; but what they supposed his last prayer was only a quiet recitation: "i believe in god, and jesus christ, his son." the guard withdrawn, three sharp mots of a trumpet rang out from the stand. a door at the left of the tunnel gate was then slowly raised; whereupon a lion stalked out of the darkened depths, and stopped on the edge of the den thus exposed, winking to accustom his eyes to the day-splendor. he lingered there very leisurely, turning his ponderous head from right to left and up and down, like a prisoner questioning if he were indeed at liberty. having viewed the sky and the benches, and filled his deep chest with ample draughts of fresh air, suddenly tamerlane noticed the monk. the head rose higher, the ears erected, and, snuffing like a hound, he fretted his shaggy mane; his yellow eyes changed to coals alive, and he growled and lashed his sides with his tail. a majestic figure was he now. "what is it?" he appeared asking himself. "prey or combat?" still in a maze, he stepped out into the arena, and shrinking close to the sand, inched forward creeping toward the object of his wonder. the spectators had opportunity to measure him, and drink their fill of terror. the monk was a goodly specimen of manhood, young, tall, strong; but a fig for his chances once this enemy struck him or set its teeth in his flesh! an ox could not stand the momentum of that bulk of bone and brawn. it were vain telling how many--not all of them women and children--furtively studied the height of the wall enclosing the pit to make sure of their own safety upon the seats. sergius meantime remained in prayer and recitation; he was prepared for the attack, but as a non-resistant; if indeed he thought of battle, he was not merely unarmed--the sleeves of his gown deprived him of the use of his hands. from the man to the lion, from the lion to the man, the multitude turned shivering, unable nevertheless to look away. presently the lion stopped, whined, and behaved uneasily. was he afraid? such was the appearance when he began trotting around at the base of the wall, halting before the gates, and seeking an escape. under the urgency, whatever it was, from the trot he broke into a gallop, without so much as a glance at the monk. a murmur descended from the benches. it was the people recovering from their horror, and impatient. ere long they became positive in expression; in dread doubtless of losing the catastrophe of the show, they yelled at the cowardly beast. in the height of this tempest, the gate of the tunnel under the grand stand opened quickly, and was as quickly shut. death brings no deeper hush than fell upon the assemblage then. a woman was crossing the sand toward the monk! round sped the lion, forward she went! two victims! well worth the monster's hunger through the three days to be so banqueted on the fourth! there are no laws of behavior for such situations. impulse and instinct rush in and take possession. while the thousands held their breath, they were all quickened to know who the intruder was. she was robed in white, was bareheaded and barefooted. the dress, the action, the seraphic face were not infrequent on the water, and especially in the churches; recognition was instantaneous, and through the eager crowded ranks the whisper flew: "god o' mercy! it is the princess--the princess irene!" strong men covered their eyes, women fainted. the grand stand had been given up to the st. james', and they and their intimates filled it from the top seat to the bottom; and now directly the identity became assured, toward them, or rather to the hegumen conspicuous in their midst, innumerable arms were outstretched, seconding the cry: "save her! save her! let the lion be killed!" easier said than done. crediting the brotherhood with lingering sparks of humanity, the game was beyond their interference. the brute was lord. who dared go in and confront him? about this time, the black man, of whom we have spoken, looked out of his cell again. to him the pleading arms were turned. he saw the monk, the princess, and the lion making its furious circuit--saw them and retreated, but a moment after reappeared, attired in the savageries which were his delight. in the waist-belt he had a short sword, and over his left shoulder a roll like a fisherman's net. and now he did not retreat. the princess reached sergius safely, and placing a hand on his arm, brought him back, as it were, to life and the situation. "fly, little mother--by the way you came--fly!" he cried, in mighty anguish. "o god! it is too late--too late." wringing his hands, he gave way to tears. "no, i will not fly. did i not bring you to this? let death come to us both. better the quick work of the lion than the slow torture of conscience. i will not fly! we will die together. i too believe in god and jesus christ his son." she reached up, and rested her hand upon his shoulder. the repetition of the creed, and her companionship restored his courage, and smiling, despite the tears on his cheeks, he said: "very well, little mother. the army of the martyrs will receive us, and the dear lord is at his mansion door to let us in." the lion now ceased galloping. stopping over in the west quarter of the field, he turned his big burning eyes on the two thus resigning themselves, and crouching, put himself in motion toward them; his mane all on end; his jaws agape, their white armature whiter of the crimson tongue lolling adrip below the lips. he had given up escape, and, his curiosity sated, was bent upon his prey. the charge of cowardice had been premature. the near thunder of his roaring was exultant and awful. there was great ease of heart to the people when nilo--for he it was--taking position between the devoted pair and their enemy, shook the net from his shoulder, and proceeded to give an example of his practice with lions in the jungles of kash-cush. keeping the brute steadily eye to eye, he managed so that while retaining the leaden balls tied to its disengaged corners one in each hand, the net was presently in an extended roll on the ground before him. leaning forward then, his hands bent inwardly knuckle to knuckle at his breast, his right foot advanced, the left behind the right ready to carry him by a step left aside, he waited the attack--to the beholders, a figure in shining ebony, giantesque in proportions, phidian in grace. tamerlane stopped. what new wonder was this? and while making the study, he settled flat on the sand, and sunk his roaring into uneasy whines and growls. by this time every one looking on understood nilo's intent--that he meant to bide the lion's leap, and catch and entangle him in the net. what nerve and nicety of calculation--what certainty of eye--what knowledge of the savage nature dealt with--what mastery of self, limb and soul were required for the feat! just at this crisis there was a tumult in the grand stand. those who turned that way saw a man in glistening armor pushing through the brethren there in most unceremonious sort. in haste to reach the front, he stepped from bench to bench, knocking the gowned churchmen right and left as if they were but so many lay figures. on the edge of the wall, he tossed his sword and shield into the arena, and next instant leaped after them. before astonishment was spent, before the dull of faculties could comprehend the intruder, before minds could be made up to so much as yell, he had fitted the shield to his arm, snatched up the sword, and run to the point of danger. there, with quick understanding of the negro's strategy, he took place behind him, but in front of the princess and the monk. his agility, cumbered though he was, his amazing spirit, together with the thought that the fair woman had yet another champion over whom the lion must go ere reaching her, wrought the whole multitude into ecstasy. they sprang upon the benches, and their shouting was impossible of interpretation except as an indication of a complete revulsion of feeling. in fact, many who but a little before had cheered the lion or cursed him for cowardice now prayed aloud for his victims. the noise was not without effect on the veteran tamerlane. he surveyed the benches haughtily once, then set forward again, intent on nilo. the movement, in its sinuous, flexile gliding, resembled somewhat a serpent's crawl. and now he neither roared nor growled. the lolling tongue dragged the sand; the beating of the tail was like pounding with a flail; the mane all erect trebly enlarged the head; and the eyes were like live coals in a burning bush. the people hushed. nilo stood firm; thunder could as easily have diverted a statue; and behind him, not less steadfast and watchful, count corti kept guard. thirty feet away--twenty-five--twenty--then the great beast stopped, collected himself, and with an indescribable roar launched clear of the ground. up, at the same instant, and forward on divergent lines, went the leaden balls; the netting they dragged after them had the appearance of yellow spray blown suddenly in the air. when the monster touched the sand again, he was completely enveloped. the struggle which ensued--the gnashing of teeth, the bellowing, the rolling and blind tossing and pitching, the labor with the mighty limbs, the snapping of the net, the burrowing into the sand, the further and more inextricable entanglement of the enraged brute may be left to imagination. almost before the spectators realized the altered condition, nilo was stabbing him with the short sword. the well-directed steel at length accomplished the work, and the pride of the cynegion lay still in the bloody tangle--then the benches found voice. amidst the uproar count corti went to nilo. "who art thou?" he asked, in admiration. the king smiled, and signified his inability to hear or speak. whereupon the count led him to the princess. "take heart, fair saint," he said. "the lion is dead, and thou art safe." she scarcely heard him. he dropped upon his knee. "the lion is dead, o princess, and here is the hand which slew him--here thy rescuer." she looked her gratitude to nilo--speak she could not. "and thou, too," the count continued, to the monk, "must have thanks for him." sergius replied: "i give thee thanks, nilo--and thou, noble italian--i am only a little less obliged to thee--thou wast ready with thy sword." he paused, glanced at the grand stand, and went on: "it is plain to me, count corti, that thou thinkest my trial happily ended. the beast is dead truly; but yonder are some not less thirsty for blood. it is for them to say what i must further endure. i am still the heretic they adjudged me. do thou therefore banish me from thy generous mind; then thou canst give it entirely to her who is most in need of it. remove the princess--find a chair for her, and leave me to god." "what further can they do?" asked the count. "heaven hath decided the trial in thy favor. have they another lion?" the propriety of the monk's suggestion was obvious; it was not becoming for the princess to remain in the public eye; besides, under reaction of spirit, she was suffering. "have they another lion?" the count repeated. anxious as he was to assist the princess, he was not less anxious, if there was further combat, to take part in it. the count was essentially a fighting man. the open door of nilo's cell speedily attracted his attention. "help me, sir monk. yonder is a refuge for the princess. let us place her in safety. i will return, and stay with thee. if the reverend christians, thy brethren in the grand stand, are not content, by allah"--he checked himself--"their cruelty would turn the stomach of a mohammedan." a few minutes, and she was comfortably housed in the cell. "now, go to thy place; i will send for a chair, and rejoin thee." at the tunnel gate, the count was met by a number of the st. james', and he forgot his errand. "we have come," said one of them to sergius, "to renew thy arrest." "be it so," sergius replied; "lead on." but count corti strode forward. "by whose authority is this arrest renewed?" he demanded. "our hegumen hath so ordered." "it shall not be--no, by the mother of your christ, it shall not be unless you bring me the written word of his majesty making it lawful." "the hegumen"-- "i have said it, and i carry a sword"--the count struck the hilt of the weapon with his mailed hand, so the clang was heard on the benches. "i have said it, and my sword says it. go, tell thy hegumen." then sergius spoke: "i pray you interfere not. the heavenly father who saved me this once is powerful to save me often." "have done, sir monk," the count returned, with increasing earnestness. "did i not hear thee say the same in thy holy sancta sophia, in such wise that these deserved to cast themselves at thy feet? instead, lo! the lion there. and for the truth, which is the soul of the world as god is its maker--the truth and the maker being the same--it is not interest in thee alone which moves me. she, thy patroness yonder, is my motive as well. there are who will say she followed thee hither being thy lover; but thou knowest better, and so do i. she came bidden by conscience, and except thou live, there will be no ease of conscience for her--never. wherefore, sir monk, hold thy peace. thou shalt no more go hence of thine own will than these shall take thee against it.... return, ye men of blood--return to him who sent you, and tell him my sword vouches my word, being so accustomed all these years i have been a man. bring they the written word of his majesty, i will give way. let them send to him." the brethren stared at the count. had he not been willing to meet old tamerlane with that same sword? they turned about, and were near the tunnel gate going to report, when it was thrown open with great force, and the emperor constantine appeared on horseback, the horse bloody with spurring and necked with foam. riding to the count he drew rein. "sir count, where is my kinswoman?" corti kissed his hand. "she is safe, your majesty--she is in the cell yonder." the emperor's eye fell upon the carcass of the lion. "thou didst it, count?" "no--this man did it." the emperor gazed at nilo, thus designated, and taking a golden chain of fine workmanship from his neck, he threw it over the black king's. at the door of the cell, he dismounted; within, he kissed the princess on the forehead. "a chair will be here directly." "and sergius?" she asked. "the brotherhood must forego their claim now. heaven has signified its will." he thereupon entered into explanation. the necessity upon him was sore and trying, else he had never surrendered sergius to the brotherhood. he expected the hegumen would subject him to discipline--imprisonment or penance. he had even signed the order placing the lion at service, supposing they meant merely a trial of the monk's constancy. withal the proceeding was so offensive he had refused to witness it. an officer came to the palace with intelligence which led him to believe the worst was really intended. to stop it summarily, he had ordered a horse and a guard. another officer reported the princess in the arena with sergius and the lion. with that his majesty had come at speed. and he was grateful to god for the issue. in a short time the sedan was brought, and the princess borne to her house. summoning the brotherhood from the grand stand, the emperor forbade their pursuing sergius further; the punishment had already been too severe. the hegumen protested. constantine arose in genuine majesty, and denouncing all clerical usurpations, he declared that for the future he would be governed by his own judgment in whatever concerned the lives of his subjects and the welfare of his empire. the declaration was heard by the people on the benches. by his order, sergius was conducted to blacherne, and next day installed a janitor of the imperial chapel; thus ending his connection with the brotherhood of the st. james'. "your majesty," said count corti, at the conclusion of the scene in the arena, "i pray a favor." constantine, by this time apprised of the count's gallantry, bade him speak. "give me the keeping of this negro." "if you mean his release from prison, sir count, take him. he can have no more suitable guardian. but it is to be remembered he came to the city with one calling himself the prince of india, and if at any time that mysterious person reappears, the man is to be given back to his master." the count regarded nilo curiously--he was merely recalling the prince. "your majesty is most gracious. i accept the condition." the captain of the guard, coming to the tunnel under the grand stand, was addressed by the sentinel there. "see--here are a dress, a pair of shoes, and a veil. i found them by the gate there." "how came they there?" "a woman asked me to let her stand by the gate, and see the heretic when they brought him out, and i gave her permission. she wore these things." "the princess irene!" exclaimed the officer. "very well. send them to me, and i will have her pleasure taken concerning them." the cynegion speedily returned to its customary state. but the expiation remained in the public mind a date to which all manner of events in city life was referred; none of them, however, of such consequence as the loss to the emperor of the allegiance of the st. james'. thenceforth the brotherhoods were united against him. book vi constantine chapter i the sword of solomon the current of our story takes us once more to the white castle at the mouth of the sweet waters of asia. it is the twenty-fifth of march, . the weather, for some days cloudy and tending to the tempestuous, changed at noon, permitting the sun to show himself in a field of spotless blue. at the edge of the mountainous steep above roumeli hissar, the day-giver lingered in his going down, as loath to leave the life concentrated in the famous narrows in front of the old castle. on the land, there was an army in waiting; therefore the city of tents and brushwood booths extending from the shore back to the hills, and the smoke pervading the perspective in every direction. on the water, swinging to each other, crowding all the shallows of the delta of the little river, reaching out into the sweep of the bosphorus, boats open and boats roofed--scows, barges, galleys oared and galleys with masts--ships--a vast conglomerate raft. about the camp, and to and fro on the raft, men went and came, like ants in storing time. two things, besides the locality, identified them--their turbans, and the crescent and star in the red field of the flags they displayed. history, it would appear, takes pleasure in repetition. full a thousand years before this, a greater army had encamped on the banks of the same sweet waters. then it was of persians; now it is of turks; and curiously there are no soldiers to be seen, but only working men, while the flotilla is composed of carrying vessels; here boats laden with stone; there boats with lime; yonder boats piled high with timber. at length the sun, drawing the last ravelling of light after it, disappeared. about that time, the sea gate in front of the palace of julian down at constantinople opened, and a boat passed out into the marmora. five men plied the oars. two sat near the stern. these latter were count corti and ali, son of abed-din the faithful. two hours prior, ali, with a fresh catch of fish, entered the gate, and finding no purchaser in the galley, pushed on to the landing, and thence to the palace. "o emir," he said, when admitted to the count, "the light of the world, our lord mahommed is arrived." the intelligence seemed to strike the count with a sudden ague. "where is he?" he asked, his voice hollow as from a closed helmet. ere the other could answer, he added a saving clause: "may the love of allah be to him a staff of life!" "he is at the white castle with mollahs, pachas, and engineers a host.... what a way they were in, rushing here and there, like squealing swine, and hunting quarters, if but a crib to lie in and blow! shintan take them, beards, boots, and turbans! so have they lived on fat things, slept on divans of down under hangings of silk, breathed perfumed airs in crowded harems, heaven knows if now they are even fit to stop an arrow. they thought the old castle of bajazet-ilderim another jehan-numa. by the delights of paradise, o emir--ha, ha, ha!--it was good to see how little the light of the world cared for them! at the castle, he took in with him for household the ancient _gabour_ ortachi-khalil and a prince of india, whom he calls his messenger of the stars; the rest were left to shift for themselves till their tents arrive. halting the incomparables, [footnote: janissaries.] out beyond roumeli-hissar, he summoned the three tails, [footnote: pachas.] nearly dead from fatigue, having been in the saddle since morning, and rode off with them fast as his arab could gallop across the country, and down the long hill behind therapia, drawing rein at the gate before the palace of the princess irene." "the palace of the princess irene," the count repeated. "what did he there?" "he dismounted, looked at the brass plate on the gate-post, went in, and asked if she were at home. being told she was yet in the city, he said: 'a message for her to be delivered to-night. here is a purse to pay for going. tell her aboo-obeidah, the singing sheik'--only the prophet knows of such a sheik--'has been here, bidden by sultan mahommed to see if her house had been respected, and inquire if she has yet her health and happiness.' with that, he called for his horse, and went through the garden and up to the top of the promontory; then he returned to hissar faster than he went to therapia; and when, to take boat for the white castle, he walked down the height, two of the three tails had to be lifted from their saddles, so nearly dead were they." here ali stopped to laugh. "pardon me, o emir," he resumed, "if i say last what i should have said first, it being the marrow of the bone i bring you.... before sitting to his pilaf, our lord mahommed sent me here. 'thou knowest to get in and out of the unbelieving city,' he said. 'go privily to the emir mirza, and bid him come to me to-night.'" "what now, ali?" "my lord was too wise to tell me." "it is a great honor, ali. i shall get ready immediately." when the night was deep enough to veil the departure, the count seated himself in the fisher's boat, a great cloak covering his armor. half a mile below the sweet waters the party was halted. "what is this, ali?" "the lord mahommed's galleys of war are down from the black sea. these are their outlyers." at the side of one of the vessels, the count showed the sultan's signet, and there was no further interruption. a few words now with respect to corti. he had become a christian. next, the bewilderment into which the first sight of the princess irene had thrown him instead of passing off had deepened into hopeless love. and farther--constantine, a genuine knight himself; in fact more knight than statesman; delighting in arms, armor, hounds, horses, and martial exercises, including tournaments, hawking, and hunting, found one abiding regret on his throne--he could have a favorite but never a comrade. the denial only stimulated the desire, until finally he concluded to bring the italian to court for observation and trial, his advancement to depend upon the fitness, tact, and capacity he might develop. one day an order was placed in the count's hand, directing him to find quarters at blacherne. the count saw the honor intended, and discerned that acceptance would place him in better position to get information for mahommed, but what would the advantage avail if he were hindered in forwarding his budget promptly? no, the mastership of the gate was of most importance; besides which the seclusion of the julian residence was so favorable to the part he was playing; literally he had no one there to make him afraid. upon receipt of the order he called for his horse, and rode to blacherne, where his argument of the necessity of keeping the moslem crew of his galley apart brought about a compromise. his majesty would require the count's presence during the day, but permit him the nights at julian. he was also allowed to retain command of the gate. a few months then found him in constantine's confidence, the imperial favorite. yet more surprising as a coincidence, he actually became to the emperor what he had been to mahommed. he fenced and jousted with him, instructed him in riding, trained him to sword and bow. every day during certain hours he had his new master's life at mercy. with a thrust of sword, stroke of battle-axe, or flash of an arrow, it was in his power to rid mahommed of an opponent concerning whom he wrote: "o my lord, i think you are his better, yet if ever you meet him in personal encounter, have a care." but the unexpected now happened to the count. he came to have an affection for this second lord which seriously interfered with his obligations to the first one. its coming about was simple. association with the greek forced a comparison with the turk. the latter's passion was a tide before which the better gifts of god to rulers--mercy, justice, discrimination, recognition of truth, loyalty, services--were as willows in the sweep of a wave. constantine, on the other hand, was thoughtful, just, merciful, tender-hearted, indisposed to offend or to fancy provocation intended. the difference between a man with and a man without conscience--between a king all whose actuations are dominated by religion and a king void of both conscience and religion--slowly but surely, we say, the difference became apparent to the count, and had its inevitable consequences. such was the count's new footing in blacherne. the changes wrought in his feeling were forwarded more than he was aware by the standing accorded him in the reception-room of the princess irene. after the affair at the cynegion he had the delicacy not to push himself upon the attention of the noble lady. in preference he sent a servant every morning to inquire after her health. ere long he was the recipient of an invitation to come in person; after which his visits increased in frequency. going to blacherne, and coming from it, he stopped at her house, and with every interview it seemed his passion for her intensified. now it were not creditable to the young princess' discernment to say she was blind to his feeling; yet she was careful to conceal the discovery from him, and still more careful not to encourage his hope. she placed the favor shown him to the account of gratitude; at the same time she admired him, and was deeply interested in the religious sentiment he was beginning to manifest. in the count's first audience after the rescue from the lion, she explained how she came to be drawn to the cynegion. this led to detail of her relations with sergius, concluding with the declaration: "i gave him the signal to speak in sancta sophia, and felt i could not live if he died the death, sent to it by me." "princess," the count replied, "i heard the monk's sermon in sancta sophia, but did not know of your giving the signal. has any one impugned your motive in going to the cynegion? give me his name. my sword says you did well." "count corti, the lord has taken care of his own." "as you say, princess irene. hear me before addressing yourself to something else.... i remember the words of the creed--or if i have them wrong correct me: 'i believe in god, and jesus christ, his son.'" "it is word for word." "am i to understand you gave him the form?" "the idea is father hilarion's." "and the two articles. are they indeed sayings of jesus christ?" "even so." "give me the book containing them." taking a new testament from the table, she gave it to him. "you will find the sayings easily. on the margins opposite them there are markings illuminated in gold." "thanks, o princess, most humbly. i will return the book." "no, count, it is yours." an expression she did not understand darkened his face. "are you a christian?" she asked. he flushed deeply, and bowed while answering: "my mother is a christian." that night count corti searched the book, and found that the strength of faith underlying his mother's prayers for his return to her, and the princess' determination to die with the monk, were but christian lights. "princess irene," he said one day, "i have studied the book you gave me; and knowing now who christ is, i am ready to accept your creed. tell me how i may know myself a believer?" a lamp in the hollow of an alabaster vase glows through the transparency; so her countenance responded to the joy behind it. "render obedience to his commands--do his will, o count--then wilt thou be a believer in christ, and know it." the darkness she had observed fall once before on his face obscured it again, and he arose and went out in silence. brave he certainly was, and strong. who could strike like him? he loved opposition for the delight there was in overcoming it; yet in his chamber that night he was never so weak. he resorted to the book, but could not read. it seemed to accuse him. "thou islamite--thou son of mahomet, though born of a christian, whom servest thou? judas, what dost thou in this city? hypocrite--traitor--which is thy master, mahomet or christ?" he fell upon his knees, tore at his beard, buried his head in his arms. he essayed prayer to christ. "jesus--mother of jesus--o my mother!" he cried in agony. the hour he was accustomed to give to mahommed came round. he drew out the writing materials. "the princess"--thus he began a sentence, but stopped--something caught hold of his heart--the speaking face of the beloved woman appeared to him--her eyes were reproachful--her lips moved--she spoke: "count corti, i am she whom thou lovest; but what dost thou? is it not enough to betray my kinsman? thy courage--what makest thou of it but wickedness? ... write of me to thy master. come every day, and contrive that i speak, then tell him of it. am i sick? tell him of it. do i hold to this or that? tell him. am i shaken by visions of ruin to my country? tell him of them. what is thy love if not the servant for hire of his love? traitor--panderer!" the count pushed the table from him, and sprang to foot writhing. to shut out the word abhorrent above all other words, he clapped his hands tight over his ears--in vain. "panderer!"--he heard with his soul--"panderer! when thou hast delivered me to mahommed, what is he to give thee? how much?" thus shame, like a wild dog, bayed at him. for relief he ran out into the garden. and it was only the beginning of misery. such the introduction or first chapter, what of the catastrophe? he could not sleep for shame. in the morning he ordered his horse, but had not courage to go to blacherne. how could he look at the kindly face of the master he was betraying? he thought of the princess. could he endure her salutation? she whom he was under compact to deliver to mahommed? a paroxysm of despair seized him. he rode to the gate st. romain, and out of it into the country. gallop, gallop--the steed was good--his best arab, fleet and tireless. noon overtook him--few things else could--still he galloped. the earth turned into a green ribbon under the flying hoofs, and there was relief in the speed. the air, whisked through, was soothing. at length he came to a wood, wild and interminable, belgrade, though he knew it not, and dismounting by a stream, he spent the day there. if now and then the steed turned its eyes upon him, attracted by his sighs, groans and prayer, there was at least no accusation in them. the solitude was restful; and returning after nightfall, he entered the city through the sortie under the palace of blacherne known as the cercoporta. it is well pain of spirit has its intermissions; otherwise long life could not be; and if sleep bring them, so much the better. next day betimes, the count was at blacherne. "i pray grace, o my lord!" he said, speaking to the question in the emperor's look. "yesterday i had to ride. this confinement in the city deadens me. i rode all day." the good, easy master sighed: "would i had been with you, count." thus he dismissed the truancy. but with the princess it was a lengthy chapter. if the emperor was never so gracious, she seemed never so charming. he wrote to mahommed in the evening, and walked the garden the residue of the night. so weeks and months passed, and march came--even the night of the twenty-fifth, with its order from the sultan to the white castle--an interval of indecision, shame, and self-indictment. how many plans of relief he formed who can say? suicide he put by, a very last resort. there was also a temptation to cut loose from mahommed, and go boldly over to the emperor. that would be a truly christian enlistment for the approaching war; and aside from conformity to his present sympathies, it would give him a right to wear the princess' favor on his helmet. but a fear shook the resort out of mind. mahommed, whether successful or defeated, would demand an explanation of him, possibly an accounting. he knew the sultan. of all the schemes presented, the most plausible was flight. there was the gate, and he its keeper, and beyond the gate, the sunny italian shore, and his father's castle. the seas and sailing between were as green landscapes to a weary prisoner, and he saw in them only the joy of going and freedom to do. welcome, and to god the praise! more than once he locked his portables of greatest value in the cabin of the galley. but alas! he was in bonds. life in constantinople now comprehended two of the ultimate excellencies to him, princess irene and christ--and their joinder in the argument he took to be no offence. from one to another of these projects he passed, and they but served to hide the flight of time. he was drifting--ahead, and not far, he heard the thunder of coming events--yet he drifted. in this condition, the most envied man in constantinople and the most wretched, the sultan's order was delivered to him by ali. the time for decision was come. tired--ashamed--angry with himself, he determined to force the end. the count arrived at the castle, was immediately admitted to the sultan; indeed, had he been less resolute, his master's promptitude would have been a circumstance of disturbing significance. observation satisfied him mahommed was in the field; for with all his epicureanism in times of peace, when a campaign was in progress the conqueror resolved himself into a soldierly example of indifference to luxury. in other words, with respect to furnishment, the interior of the old castle presented its every day ruggedness. one lamp fixed to the wall near the door of the audience chamber struggled with the murk of a narrow passage, giving to view an assistant chamberlain, an armed sentinel, and two jauntily attired pages in waiting. surrendering his sword to the chamberlain, the count halted before the door, while being announced; at the same time, he noticed a man come out of a neighboring apartment clad in black velvet from head to foot, followed closely by a servant. it was the prince of india. the mysterious person advanced slowly, his eyes fixed on the floor, his velvet-shod feet giving out no sound. his air indicated deep reflection. in previous encounters with him, the count had been pleased; now his sensations were of repugnance mixed with doubt and suspicion. he had not time to account for the change. it may have had origin in the higher prescience sometimes an endowment of the spirit by which we stand advised of a friend or an enemy; most likely, however, it was a consequence of the curious tales abroad in constantinople; for at the recognition up sprang the history of the prince's connection with lael, and her abandonment by him, the more extraordinary from the evidences of his attachment to her. up sprang also the opinion of universal prevalence in the city that he had perished in the great fire. what did it all mean? what kind of man was he? the servant carried a package wrapped in gold-embroidered green silk. coming near, the prince raised his eyes--stopped--smiled--and said: "count corti--or mirza the emir--which have i the honor of meeting?" in spite of the offence he felt, corti blushed, such a flood of light did the salutation let in upon the falsity of his position. far from losing presence of mind, he perceived at once how intimately the prince stood in the councils of the sultan. "the lord mahommed must be heard before i can answer," he returned, calmly. in an instant the prince became cordial. "that was well answered," he said. "i am pleased to have my judgment of you confirmed. your mission has been a trying one, but you have conducted it like a master. the lord mahommed has thanked me many times that i suggested you for it. he is impatient to see you. we will go in together." mahommed, in armor, was standing by a table on which were a bare cimeter, a lamp brightly burning, and two large unrolled maps. in one of the latter, the count recognized constantinople and its environs cast together from his own surveys. retired a few steps were the two viziers, kalil pacha and his rival, saganos pacha, the mollah kourani, and the sheik akschem-sed-din. the preaching of the mollah had powerfully contributed to arousing the fanatical spirit of the sultan's mohammedan subjects. the four were standing in the attitude usual to turkish officials in presence of a superior, their heads bowed, their hands upon their stomachs. in speaking, if they raised their eyes from the floor it was to shoot a furtive glance, then drop them again. "this is the grand design of the work by which you will be governed," mahommed said to the counsellors, laying the finger points of his right hand upon the map unknown to the count, and speaking earnestly. "you will take it, and make copies tonight; for if the stars fail not, i will send the masons and their workmen to the other shore in the morning." the advisers saluted--it would be difficult to say which of them with the greatest unction. looking sharply at kalil, the master asked: "you say you superintended the running of the lines in person?" kalil saluted separately, and returned: "my lord may depend upon the survey." "very well. i wait now only the indication of heaven that the time is ripe for the movement. is the prince of india coming?" "i am here, my lord." mahommed turned as the prince spoke, and let his eyes rest a moment upon count corti, without a sign of recognition. "come forward, prince," he said. "what is the message you bring me?" "my lord," the prince replied, after prostration, "in the hebrew scriptures there is a saying in proof of the influence the planets have in the affairs of men: 'then fought the kings of canaan in taanach by the waters of megiddo; they fought from heaven; the stars in their courses fought against sisera.' now art thou truly sultan of sultans. to-morrow--the twenty-sixth of march--will be memorable amongst days, for then thou mayst begin the war with the perfidious greek. from four o'clock in the morning the stars which fought against sisera will fight for mahommed. let those who love him salute and rejoice." the counsellors, dropping on their knees, fell forward, their faces on their hands. the prince of india did the same. count corti alone remained standing, and mahommed again observed him. "hear you," the latter said, to his officers. "go assemble the masons and their workmen, the masters of boats, and the chiefs charged with duties. at four o'clock in the morning i will move against europe. the stars have said it, and their permission is my law. rise!" as his associates were moving backward with repeated genuflections, the prince of india spoke: "o most favored of men! let them stay a moment." at a sign from the sultan they halted; thereupon the prince of india beckoned syama to come, and taking the package from his hands, he laid it on the table. "for my lord mahommed," he said. "what is it?" mahommed demanded. "a sign of conquest.... my lord knows king solomon ruled the world in his day, its soul of wisdom. at his death dominion did not depart from him. the secret ministers in the earth, the air and the waters, obedient to allah, became his slaves. my lord knows of whom i speak. who can resist them? ... in the tomb of hiram, king of tyre, the friend of king solomon, i found a sarcophagus. it was covered with a model in marble of the temple of the hebrew almighty god. removing the lid, lo! the mummy of hiram, a crown upon its head, and at its feet the sword of solomon, a present without price. i brought it away, resolved to give it to him whom the stars should elect for the overthrow of the superstitions devised by jesus, the bastard son of joseph the carpenter of nazareth.... undo the wrappings, lord mahommed." the sultan obeyed, and laying the last fold of the cloth aside, drew back staring, and with uplifted hands. "kalil--kourani--akschem-sed-din--all of you, come look. tell me what it is--it blinds me." the sword of solomon lay before them; its curved blade a gleam of splendor, its scabbard a mass of brilliants, its hilt a ruby so pure we may say it retained in its heart the life of a flame. "take it in hand, lord mahommed," said the prince of india. the young sultan lifted the sword, and as he did so down a groove in its back a stream of pearls started and ran, ringing musically, and would not rest while he kept the blade in motion. he was speechless from wonder. "now may my lord march upon constantinople, for the stars and every secret minister of solomon will fight for him." so saying, the prince knelt before the sultan, and laid his lips on the instep of his foot, adding: "oh, my lord! with that symbol in hand, march, and surely as tabor is among the mountains and carmel by the sea, so surely christ will give place to mahomet in sancta sophia. march at four o'clock." and the counsellors left kisses on the same instep, and departed. thence through the night the noises of preparation kept the space between the hills of the narrows alive with echoes. at the hour permitted by the stars--four o'clock--a cloud of boats cast loose from the asiatic shore, and with six thousand laborers, handmen to a thousand master masons, crossed at racing speed to europe. "god is god, and mahomet is his prophet," they shouted. the vessels of burden, those with lime, those with stone, those with wood, followed as they were called, and unloading, hauled out, to give place to others. before sun up the lines of the triangular fort whose walls near roumeli-hissar are yet intact, prospectively a landmark enduring as the pyramids, were defined and swarming with laborers. the three pachas, kalil, sarudje, and saganos, superintended each a side of the work, and over them all, active and fiercely zealous, moved mahommed, the sword of solomon in his hand. and there was no lack of material for the structure extensive as it was. asia furnished its quota, and christian towns and churches on the bosphorus were remorselessly levelled for the stones in them; wherefore the outer faces of the curtains and towers are yet speckled with marbles in block, capital and column. thus mahommed, taking his first step in the war so long a fervid dream, made sure of his base of operations. on the twenty-eighth of august, the work completed, from his camp on the old asometon promontory he reconnoitred the country up to the ditch of constantinople, and on the first of september betook himself to adrianople. chapter ii mahommed and count corti make a wager upon the retirement of the prince of india and the counsellors, mahommed took seat by the table, and played with the sword of solomon, making the pearls travel up and down the groove in the blade, listening to their low ringing, and searching for inscriptions. this went on until count corti began to think himself forgotten. at length the sultan, looking under the guard, uttered an exclamation--looked again--and cried out: "o allah! it is true!--may i be forgiven for doubting him!--come, mirza, come see if my eyes deceive me. here at my side!" the count mastered his surprise, and was presently leaning over the sultan's shoulder. "you remember, mirza, we set out together studying hebrew. against your will i carried you along with me until you knew the alphabet, and could read a little. you preferred italian, and when i brought the learned men, and submitted to them that hebrew was one of a family of tongues more or less alike, and would have sent you with them to the sidonian coast for inscriptions, you refused. do you remember?" "my lord, those were the happiest days of my life." mahommed laughed. "i kept you three days on bread and water, and let you off then because i could not do without you.... but for the matter now. under this guard--look--are not the brilliants set in the form of letters?" corti examined closely. "yes, yes; there are letters--i see them plainly--a name." "spell it." "s-o-l-o-m-o-n." "then i have not deceived myself," mahommed exclaimed. "nor less has the prince of india deceived me." he grew more serious. "a marvellous man! i cannot make him out. the more i do with him the more incomprehensible he becomes. the long past is familiar to him as the present to me. he is continually digging up things ages old, and amazing me with them. several times i have asked him when he was born, and he has always made the same reply: 'i will tell when you are lord of constantinople.' ... how he hates christ and the christians! ... this is indeed the sword of solomon--and he found it in the tomb of hiram, and gives it to me as the elect of the stars now. ponder it, o mirza! now at the mid of the night in which i whistle up my dogs of war to loose them on the _gabour_--how, mirza--what ails you? why that change of countenance? is he not a dog of an unbeliever? on your knees before me--i have more to tell you than to ask. no, spurs are troublesome. to the door and bid the keeper there bring a stool--and look lest the lock have an ear hanging to it. old kalil, going out, though bowing, and lip-handing me, never took his eyes off you." the stool brought, corti was about to sit. "take off your cap"--mahommed spoke sternly--"for as you are not the mirza i sent away, i want to see your face while we talk. sit here, in the full of the light." the count seated, placed his hooded cap on the floor. he was perfectly collected. mahommed fingered the ruby hilt while searching the eyes which as calmly searched his. "how brave you are!" the sultan began, but stopped. "poor mirza!" he began again, his countenance softened. one would have said some tender recollection was melting the shell of his heart. "poor mirza! i loved you better than i loved my father, better than i loved my brothers, well as i loved my mother--with a love surpassing all i ever knew but one, and of that we will presently speak. if honor has a soul, it lives in you, and the breath you draw is its wine, purer than the first expressage of grapes from the prophet's garden down by medina. your eyes look truth, your tongue drips it as a broken honey-comb drips honey. you are truth as god is god." he was speaking sincerely. "fool--fool--that i let you go!--and i would not--no, by the rose-door of paradise and the golden stairs to the house of allah, i would not had i loved my full moon of full moons less. she was parted from me; and with whose eyes could i see her so well as with yours, o my falcon? who else would report to me so truly her words? love makes men and lions mad; it possessed me; and i should have died of it but for your ministering. wherefore, o mirza"-- the count had been growing restive; now he spoke. "my lord is about committing himself to some pledge. he were wise, did he hear me first." "perhaps so," the sultan rejoined, uncertainly, but added immediately: "i will hear you." "it is true, as my lord said, i am not the mirza he despatched to italy. the changes i have undergone are material; and in recounting them i anticipate his anger. he sees before him the most wretched of men to whom death would be mercy." "is it so bad? you were happy when you went away. was not the mission to your content?" "my lord's memory is a crystal cup from which nothing escapes--a cup without a leak. he must recall how i prayed to stay with him." "yes, yes." "my dread was prophetic." "tell me of the changes." "i will--and truly as there is but one god, and he the father of life and maker of things. first, then, the affection which at my going was my lord's, and which gave me to see him as the light of the world, and the perfection of glory in promise, is now divided." "you mean there is another light of the world? be it so, and still you leave me flattered. how far you had to travel before finding the other! who is he?" "the emperor of the greeks." "constantine? are his gifts so many and rich? the next." "i am a christian." "indeed? perhaps you can tell me the difference between god and allah. yesterday kourani said they were the same." "nay, my lord, the difference is between christ and mahomet." "the mother of the one was a jewess, the mother of the other an arab--i see. go on." the count did not flinch. "my lord, great as is your love of the princess irene"--mahommed half raised his hands, his brows knit, his eyes filled with fire, but the count continued composedly--"mine is greater." the sultan recovered himself. "the proof, the proof!" he said, his voice a little raised. "my love of her is consuming me, but i see you alive." "my lord's demand is reasonable. i came here to make the avowal, and die. would my lord so much?" "you would die for the princess?" "my lord has said it." "is there not something else in the urgency?" "yes--honor." the count's astonishment was unspeakable. he expected an outburst of wrath unappeasable, a summons for an executioner; instead, mahommed's eyes became humid, and resting his elbow on the table, and his face on the thumb and forefinger, he said, gazing sorrowfully: "ahmed was my little brother. his mother published before my father's death, that my mother was a slave. she was working for her child already, and i had him smothered in a bath. cruel? god forgive me! it was my duty to provide for the peace of my people. i had a right to take care of myself; yet will i never be forgiven. kismet!... i have had many men slain since. i travel, going to mighty events beckoned by destiny. the ordinary cheap soul cannot understand how necessary it is that my path should be smooth and clear; for sometime i may want to run; and he will amuse or avenge himself by stamping me in history a monster without a soul. kismet! ... but you, my poor mirza, you should know me better. you are my brother without guile. i am not afraid to love you. i do love you. let us see.... your letters from constantinople--i have them all--told me so much more than you intended, i could not suspect your fidelity. they prepared me for everything you have confessed. hear how in my mind i disposed of them point by point.... 'mirza,' i said, 'pities the _gabour_ emperor; in the end he will love him. loving a hundred men is less miraculous in a man than loving one. he will make comparisons. why not? the _gabour_ appeals to him through his weakness, i through my strength. i would rather be feared than pitied. moreover, the _gabour's_ day runs to its close, and as it closes, mine opens. pity never justified treason.' ... and i said, too, on reading the despatch detailing your adventures in italy: 'poor mirza! now has he discovered he is an italian, stolen when a child, and having found his father's castle and his mother, a noble woman, he will become a christian, for so would i in his place.' did i stop there? the wife of the pacha who received you from your abductors is in broussa. i sent to her asking if she had a keepsake or memento which would help prove your family and country. see what she returned to me." from under a cloth at the further end of the table, mahommed drew a box, and opening it, produced a collar of lace fastened with a cameo pin. on the pin there was a graven figure. "tell me, mirza, if you recognize the engraving." the count took the cameo, looked at it, and replied, with a shaking voice: "the arms of the corti! god be praised!" "and here--what are these, and what the name on them?" mahommed gave him a pair of red morocco half-boots for a child, on which, near the tops, a name was worked in silk. "it is mine, my lord--my name--'ugo.'" he cast himself before the sultan, and embraced his knees, saying, in snatches as best he could: "i do not know what my lord intends--whether he means i am to die or live--if it be death, i pray him to complete his mercy by sending these proofs to my mother"-- "poor mirza, arise! i prefer to have your face before me." directly the count was reseated, mahommed continued: "and you, too, love the princess irene? you say you love her more than i? and you thought i could not endure hearing you tell it? that i would summon black hassan with his bowstring? with all your opportunities, your seeing and hearing her, as the days multiplied from tens to hundreds, is it for me to teach you she will come to no man except as a sacrifice? what great thing have you to offer her? while i--well, by this sword of solomon, to-morrow morning i set out to say to her: 'for thy love, o my full moon of full moons, for thy love thou shalt have the redemption of thy church.'... and besides, did i not foresee your passion? courtiers stoop low and take pains to win favor; but no courtier, not even a professional, intending merely to please me, could have written of her as you did; and by that sign, o mirza, i knew you were in the extremity of passion. offended? not so, not so! i sent you to take care of her--fight for her--die, if her need were so great. of whom might i expect such service but a lover? did i not, the night of our parting, foretell what would happen?" he paused gazing at the ruby of the ring on his finger. "see, mirza! there has not been a waking hour since you left me but i have looked at this jewel; and it has kept color faithfully. often as i beheld it, i said: 'mirza loves her because he cannot help it; yet he is keeping honor with me. mirza is truth, as god is god. from his hand will i receive her in constantinople'"-- "o my lord"-- "peace, peace! the night wanes, and you have to return. of what was i speaking? oh, yes"-- "but hear me, my lord. at the risk of your displeasure i must speak." "what is it?" "in her presence my heart is always like to burst, yet, as i am to be judged in the last great day, i have kept faith with my lord. once she thanked me--it was after i offered myself to the lion--o heaven! how nearly i lost my honor! oh, the agony of that silence! the anguish of that remembrance! i have kept the faith, my lord. but day by day now the will to keep it grows weaker. all that holds me steadfast is my position in constantinople. what am i there?" the count buried his face in his hands, and through the links in his surcoat the tremor which shook his body was apparent. mahommed waited. "what am i there? having come to see the goodness of the emperor, i must run daily to betray him. i am a christian; yet as judas sold his master, i am under compact to sell my religion. i love a noble woman, yet am pledged to keep her safely, and deliver her to another. o my lord, my lord! this cannot go on. shame is a vulture, and it is tearing me--my heart bleeds in its beak. release me, or give me to death. if you love me, release me." "poor mirza!" "my lord, i am not afraid." mahommed struck the table violently, and his eyes glittered. "that ever one should think i loved a coward! yet more intolerable, that he whom i have called brother should know me so little! can it be, o mirza, can it be, you tell me these things imagining them new to me? ... let me have done. what we are saying would have become us ten years ago, not now. it is unmanly. i had a purpose in sending for you.... your mission in constantinople ends in the morning at four o'clock. in other words, o mirza, the condition passes from preparation for war with the _gabour_ to war. observe now. you are a fighting man--a knight of skill and courage. in the rencounters to which i am going--the sorties, the assaults, the duels single and in force, the exchanges with all arms, bow, arbalist, guns small and great, the mines and countermines--you cannot stay out. you must fight. is it not so?" corti's head arose, his countenance brightened. "my lord, i fear i run forward of your words--forgive me." "yes, give ear.... the question now is, whom will you fight--me or the _gabour?_" "o my lord"-- "be quiet, i say. the issue is not whether you love me less. i prefer you give him your best service." "how, my lord?" "i am not speaking in contempt, but with full knowledge of your superiority with weapons--of the many of mine who must go down before you. and that you may not be under restraint of conscience or arm-tied in the melee, i not only conclude your mission, but release you from every obligation to me." "every obligation!" "i know my words, emir, yet i will leave nothing uncertain.... you will go back to the city free of every obligation to me--arm-free, mind-free. be a christian, if you like. send me no more despatches advisory of the emperor"-- "and the princess irene, my lord?" mahommed smiled at the count's eagerness. "have patience, mirza.... of the moneys had from me, and the properties heretofore mine in trust, goods, horses, arms, armor, the galley and its crew, i give them to you without an accounting. you cannot deliver them to me or dispose of them, except with an explanation which would weaken your standing in blacherne, if not undo you utterly. you have earned them." corti's face reddened. "with all my lord's generosity, i cannot accept this favor. honor"-- "silence, emir, and hear me. i have never been careless of your honor. when you set out for italy, preparatory to the mission at constantinople, you owed me duty, and there was no shame in the performance; but now--so have the changes wrought--that which was honorable to mirza the emir is scandalous to count corti. after four o'clock you will owe me no duty; neither will you be in my service. from that hour mirza, my falcon, will cease to be. he will have vanished. or if ever i know him more, it will be as count corti, christian, stranger, and enemy." "enemy--my lord's enemy? never!" the count protested with extended arms. "yes, circumstances will govern. and now the princess irene." mahommed paused; then, summoning his might of will, and giving it expression in a look, he laid a forcible hand on the listener's shoulder. "of her now.... i have devised a promotion for you, emir. after to-night we will be rivals." corti was speechless--he could only stare. "by the rose-door of paradise--the only oath fit for a lover--or, as more becoming a knight, by this sword of solomon, emir, i mean the rivalry to be becoming and just. i have an advantage of you. with women rank and riches are as candles to moths. on the other side your advantage is double; you are a christian, and may be in her eyes day after day. and not to leave you in mean condition, i give you the moneys and property now in your possession; not as a payment--god forbid!--but for pride's sake--my pride. mahommed the sultan may not dispute with a knight who has only a sword." "i have estates in italy." "they might as well be in the moon. i shall enclose constantinople before you could arrange with the jews, and have money enough to buy a feather for your cap. if this were less true, comes then the argument: how can you dispose of the properties in hand, and quiet the gossips in the _gabour's_ palace? 'where are your horses?' they will ask. what answer have you? 'where your galley?' answer. 'where your mohammedan crew?' answer." the count yielded the debate, saying: "i cannot comprehend my lord. such thing was never heard of before." "must men be restrained because the thing they wish to do was never heard of before? shall i not build a mosque with five minarets because other builders stopped with three? ... to the sum of it all now. christian or moslem, are you willing to refer our rivalry for the young woman to god?" "my wonder grows with listening to my lord." "nay, this surprises you because it is new. i have had it in mind for months. it did not come to me easily. it demanded self-denial--something i am unused to.... here it is--i am willing to call heaven in, and let it decide whether she shall be mine or yours--this lily of paradise whom all men love at sight. dare you as much?" the soldier spirit arose in the count. "now or then, here or there, as my lord may appoint. i am ready. he has but to name his champion." "i protest. the duel would be unequal. as well match a heron and a hawk. there is a better way of making our appeal. listen.... the walls of constantinople have never succumbed to attack. hosts have dashed against them, and fled or been lost. it may be so with me; but i will march, and in my turn assault them, and thou defending with thy best might. if i am beaten, if i retire, be the cause of failure this or that, we--you and i, o mirza--will call it a judgment of heaven, and the princess shall be yours; but if i success and enter the city, it shall be a judgment no less, and then"--mahommed's eyes were full of fire--"then"-- "what then, my lord?" "thou shalt see to her safety in the last struggle, and conduct her to sancta sophia, and there deliver her to me as ordered by god." corti was never so agitated. he turned pale and red--he trembled visibly. mahommed asked mockingly: "is it mirza i am treating with, or count corti? are christians so unwilling to trust god?" "but, my lord, it is a wager you offer me." "call it so." "and its conditions imply slavery for the princess. change them, my lord--allow her to be consulted and have her will, be the judgment this or that." mahommed clinched his hands. "am i a brute? did ever woman lay her head on my breast perforce?" the count replied, firmly: "such a condition would be against us both alike." the sultan struggled with himself a moment. "be it so," he rejoined. "the wager is my proposal, and i will go through with it. take the condition, emir. if i win, she shall come to me of her free will or not at all." "a wife, my lord?" "in my love first, and in my household first--my sultana." the animation which then came to the count was wonderful. he kissed mahommed's hand. "now has my lord outdone himself in generosity. i accept. in no other mode could the issue be made so absolutely a determination of heaven." mahommed arose. "we are agreed.--the interview is finished.--ali is waiting for you." he replaced the cover on the box containing the collar and the half-boots. "i will send these to the countess your mother; for hereafter you are to be to me ugo, count corti.... my falcon hath cast its jess and hood. mirza is no more. farewell mirza." corti was deeply moved. prostrating himself, he arose, and replied: "i go hence more my lord's lover than ever. death to the stranger who in my presence takes his name in vain." as he was retiring, mahommed spoke again: "a word, count.... in what we are going to, the comfort and safety of the princess irene may require you to communicate with me. you have ready wit for such emergencies. leave me a suggestion." corti reflected an instant. "the signal must proceed from me," he said. "my lord will pitch his tent in sight"-- "by solomon, and this his sword, yes! every _gabour_ who dares look over the wall shall see it while there is a hill abiding." the count bowed. "i know my lord, and give him this--god helping me, i will make myself notorious to the besiegers as he will be to the besieged. if at any time he sees my banderole, or if it be reported to him, let him look if my shield be black; if so, he shall come himself with a shield the color of mine, and place himself in my view. my lord knows i make my own arrows. if i shoot one black feathered, he must pick it up. the ferrule will be of hollow lead covering a bit of scrip." "once more, count corti, the issue is with god. good night." traversing the passage outside the door, the count met the prince of india. "an hour ago i would have entitled you emir: but now"--the prince smiled while speaking--"i have stayed to thank count corti for his kindness to my black friend nilo." "your servant?" "my friend and ally--nilo the king.... if the count desires to add to the obligation, he will send the royal person to me with ali when he returns to-night." "i will send him." "thanks, count corti." the latter lingered, gazing into the large eyes and ruddy face, expecting at least an inquiry after lael. he received merely a bow, and the words: "we will meet again." night was yet over the city, when ali, having landed the count, drew out of the gate with nilo. the gladness of the king at being restored to his master can be easily fancied. chapter iii the bloody harvest in june, a few days after the completion of the enormous work begun by mahommed on the asometon promontory, out of a gate attached to the high residence of blacherne, familiarly known as the caligaria, there issued a small troop of horsemen of the imperial military establishment. the leader of this party--ten in all--was count corti. quite a body of spectators witnessed the exit, and in their eyes he was the most gallant knight they had ever seen. they cheered him as, turning to the right after issuance from the gate, he plunged at a lively trot into the ravine at the foot of the wall, practically an immense natural fosse. "god and our lady of blacherne," they shouted, and continued shouting while he was in sight, notwithstanding he did not so much as shake the banderole on his lance in reply. of the count's appearance this morning it is unnecessary to say more than that he was in the suit of light armor habitual to him, and as an indication of serious intent, bore, besides the lance, a hammer or battle-axe fixed to his saddle-bow, a curved sword considerably longer, though not so broad as a cimeter, a bow and quiver of arrows at his back, and a small shield or buckler over the quiver. the favorite chestnut arab served him for mount, its head and neck clothed in flexible mail. the nine men following were equipped like himself in every particular, except that their heads were protected by close-fitting conical caps, and instead of armor on their legs, they wore flowing red trousers. of them it may be further remarked, their mode of riding, due to their short stirrups, was indicative of folk akin to the bedouin of the desert. upon returning from the last interview with mahommed in the white castle, the count had subjected the crew of his galley to rigorous trial of fitness for land service. nine of them he found excellent riders after their fashion, and selecting them as the most promising, he proceeded to instruct them in the use of the arms they were now bearing. his object in this small organization was a support to rush in after him rather than a battle front. that is, in a charge he was to be the lance's point, and they the broadening of the lance's blade; while he was engaged, intent on the foe before him, eight of them were to guard him right and left, and, as the exigencies of combat might demand, open and close in fan-like movement. the ninth man was a fighter in their rear. in the simple manoeuvring of this order of battle he had practised them diligently through the months. the skill attained was remarkable; and the drilling having been in the hippodrome, open to the public, the concourse to see it had been encouraging. in truth, the wager with mahommed had supplied the count with energy of body and mind. he studied the chances of the contest, knowing how swiftly it was coming, and believed it possible to defend the city successfully. at all events, he would do his best, and if the judgment were adverse, it should not be through default on his part. the danger--and he discerned it with painful clearness--was in the religious dissensions of the greeks; still he fancied the first serious blow struck by the turks, the first bloodshed, would bring the factions together, if only for the common safety. it is well worth while here to ascertain the views and feelings of the people whom count corti was thus making ready to defend. this may be said of them generally: it seemed impossible to bring them to believe the sultan really intended war against the city. "what if he does?" they argued. "who but a young fool would think of such a thing? if he comes, we will show him the banner of the blessed lady from the walls." if in the argument there was allusion to the tower on the asometon heights, so tall one could stand on its lead-covered roof, and looking over the intermediate hills, almost see into constantinople, the careless populace hooted at the exaggeration: "there be royal idiots as well as every-day idiots. staring at us is one thing, shooting at us is another. towers with walls thirty feet thick are not movable." one day a report was wafted through the gates that a gun in the water battery of the new turkish fort had sunk a passing ship. "what flag was the ship flying?" "the venetian." "ah, that settles it," the public cried. "the sultan wants to keep the venetians out of the black sea. the turks and the venetians have always been at war." a trifle later intelligence came that the sultan, lingering at basch-kegan, supposably because the air along the bosphorus was better than the air at adrianople, had effected a treaty by which the podesta of galata bound his city to neutrality; still the complacency of the byzantines was in no wise disturbed. "score one for the genoese. it is good to hear of their beating the venetians." occasionally a wanderer--possibly a merchant, more likely a spy--passing the bazaars of byzantium, entertained the booth-keepers with stories of cannon being cast for the sultan so big that six men tied together might be fired from them at once. the greeks only jeered. some said: "oh, the mahound must be intending a salute for the man in the moon of ramazan!" others decided: "well, he is crazier than we thought him. there are many hills on the road to adrianople, and at the foot of every hill there is a bridge. to get here he must invent wings for his guns, and even then it will be long before they can be taught to fly." at times, too, the old city was set agog with rumors from the asiatic provinces opposite that the sultan was levying unheard-of armies; he had half a million recruits already, but wanted a million. "oh, he means to put a lasting quietus on huniades and his hungarians. he is sensible in taking so many men." in compliment to the intelligence of the public, this obliviousness to danger had one fostering circumstance--the gates of the city on land and water stood open day and night. "see," it was everywhere said, "the emperor is not alarmed. who has more at stake than he? he is a soldier, if he is an _azymite_. he keeps ambassadors with the sultan--what for, if not to be advised?" and there was a great deal in the argument. at length the greek ambassadors were expelled by mahommed. it was while he lay at basch-kegan. they themselves brought the news. this was ominous, yet the public kept its spirits. the churches, notably sancta sophia, were more than usually crowded with women; that was all, for the gates not only remained open, but traffic went in and out of them unhindered--out even to the turkish camp, the byzantines actually competing with their neighbors of galata in the furnishment of supplies. nay, at this very period every morning a troop of the imperial guard convoyed a wagon from blacherne out to basch-kegan laden with the choicest food and wines; and to the officer receiving them the captain of the convoy invariably delivered himself: "from his majesty, the emperor of the romans and greeks, to the lord mahommed, sultan of the turks. prosperity and long life to the sultan." if these were empty compliments, if the relations between the potentates were slippery, if war were hatching, what was the emperor about? six months before the fort opposite the white castle was begun, constantine had been warned of mahommed's projected movement against his capital. the warning was from kalil pacha; and whether kalil was moved by pity, friendship, or avarice is of no moment; certain it is the emperor acted upon the advice. he summoned a council, and proposed war; but was advised to send a protesting embassy to the enemy. a scornful answer was returned. seeing the timidity of his cabinet, cast upon himself, he resolved to effect a policy, and accordingly expostulated, prayed, sent presents, offered tribute, and by such means managed to satisfy his advisers; yet all the time he was straining his resources in preparation. in the outset, he forced himself to face two facts of the gravest import: first, of his people, those of age and thews for fighting were in frocks, burrowing in monasteries; next, the clergy and their affiliates were his enemies, many openly preferring a turk to an _azymite_. a more discouraging prospect it is difficult to imagine. there was but one hope left him. europe was full of professional soldiers. perhaps the pope had influence to send him a sufficient contingent. would his holiness interest himself so far? the brave emperor despatched an embassy to rome, promising submission to the papacy, and praying help in christ's name. meantime his agents dispersed themselves through the aegean, buying provisions and arms, enginery, and war material of all kinds. this business kept his remnant of a navy occupied. every few days a vessel would arrive with stores for the magazine under the hippodrome. by the time the fort at roumeli hissar was finished, one of his anxieties was in a measure relieved. the other was more serious. then the frequency with which he climbed the tower of isaac, the hours he passed there gazing wistfully southward down the mirror of the marmora, became observable. the valorous, knightly heart, groaning under the humiliations of the haughty turk, weary not less of the incapacity of his own people to perceive their peril, and arise heroically to meet it, found opportunity to meditate while he was pacing the lofty lookout, and struggling to descry the advance of the expected succor. in this apology the reader who has wondered at the inaction of the emperor what time the sultan was perfecting his asiatic communications is answered. there was nothing for him but a siege. to that alternative the last of the romans was reduced. he could not promise himself enough of his own subjects to keep the gates, much less take the field. the country around constantinople was given to agriculture. during the planting season, and the growing, the greek husbandmen received neither offence nor alarm from the turks. but in june, when the emerald of the cornfields was turning to gold, herds of mules and cavalry horses began to ravage the fields, and the watchmen, hastening from their little huts on the hills to drive them out, were set upon by the soldiers and beaten. they complained to the emperor, and he sent an embassy to the sultan praying him to save the crops from ruin. in reply, mahommed ordered the son of isfendiar, a relative, to destroy the harvest. the peasants resisted, and not unsuccessfully. in the south, and in the fields near hissar on the north, there were deaths on both sides. intelligence of the affair coming to constantine, he summoned count corti. "the long expected has arrived," he said. "blood has been shed. my people have been attacked and slain in their fields; their bodies lie out unburied. the war cannot be longer deferred. it is true the succors from the holy father have not arrived; but they are on the way, and until they come we must defend ourselves. cold and indifferent my people have certainly been. now i will make a last effort to arouse them. go out toward hissar, and recover the dead. have the bodies brought in just as they are. i will expose them in the hippodrome. perhaps their bruises and blood may have an effect; if not, god help this christian city. i will give you a force." "your majesty," the count replied, "such an expedition might provoke an advance upon the city before you are entirely prepared. permit me to select a party from my own men." "as you choose. a guide will accompany you." to get to the uplands, so to speak, over which, north of galata, the road to hissar stretched, corti was conducted past the cynegion and through the districts of eyoub to the sweet waters of europe, which he crossed by a bridge below the site of the present neglected country palace of the sultan. up on the heights he turned left of pera, and after half an hour's rapid movement was trending northward parallel with the bosphorus, reaches of which were occasionally visible through cleftings of the mountainous shore. straw-thatched farmhouses dotted the hills and slopes, and the harvest spread right and left in cheerful prospect. the adventurer had ample time to think; but did little of it, being too full of self-gratulation at having before him an opportunity to recommend himself to the emperor, with a possibility of earning distinction creditable in the opinion of the princess irene. at length an exclamation of his guide aroused him to action. "the turks, the turks!" "where?" "see that smoke." over a hilltop in his front, the count beheld the sign of alarm crawling slowly into the sky. "here is a village--to our left, but"-- "have done," said corti, "and get me to the fire. is there a nearer way than this?" "yes, under the hill yonder." "is it broken?" "it narrows to a path, but is clear." the count spoke in arabic to his followers, and taking the gallop, pushed the guide forward. shortly a party of terror-stricken peasants ran down toward him. "why do you run? what is the matter?" he asked. "oh, the turks, the turks!" "what of them? stand, and tell me." "we went to work this morning cutting corn, for it is now ripe enough. the mahounds broke in on us. we were a dozen to their fifty or more. we only escaped, and they set fire to the field. o christ, and the most holy mother! let us pass, or we too will be slain!" "are they mounted?" "some have horses, some are afoot." "where are they now?" "in the field on the hill." "well, go to the village fast as you can, and tell the men there to come and pick up their dead. tell them not to fear, for the emperor has sent me to take care of them." with that the count rode on. this was the sight presented him when he made the ascent: a wheat field sloping gradually to the northeast; fire creeping across it crackling, smoking, momentarily widening; through the cloud a company of turkish soldiers halted, mostly horsemen, their arms glinting brightly in the noon sun; blackened objects, unmistakably dead men, lying here and there. thus the tale of the survivors of the massacre was confirmed. corti gave his lance with the banderole on it to the guide. by direction his berbers drove their lances into the earth that they might leave them standing, drew their swords, and brought their bucklers forward. then he led them into the field. a few words more, directions probably, and he started toward the enemy, his followers close behind two and two, with a rear-guardsman. he allowed no outcry, but gradually increased the pace. there were two hundred and more yards to be crossed, level, except the slope, and with only the moving line of fire as an impediment. the crop, short and thin, was no obstacle under the hoofs. the turks watched the movement herded, like astonished sheep. they may not have comprehended that they were being charged, or they may have despised the assailants on account of their inferiority in numbers, or they may have relied on the fire as a defensive wall; whatever the reason, they stood passively waiting. when the count came to the fire, he gave his horse the spur, and plunging into the smoke and through the flame full speed, appeared on the other side, shouting: "christ and our lady of blacherne!" his long sword flashed seemingly brighter of the passage just made. fleckings of flame clung to the horses. what the battle-cry of the berbers we may not tell. they screamed something un-christian, echoes of the desert. then the enemy stirred; some drew their blades, some strung their bows; the footmen amongst them caught their javelins or half-spears in the middle, and facing to the rear, fled, and kept flying, without once looking over their shoulders. one man mounted, and in brighter armor than the others, his steel cap surmounted with an immense white turban, a sparkling aigrette pinned to the turban, cimeter in hand, strove to form his companions--but it was too late. "christ and our lady of blacherne!"--and with that corti was in their midst; and after him, into the lane he opened, his berbers drove pell-mell, knocking turks from their saddles, and overthrowing horses--and there was cutting and thrusting, and wounds given, and souls rendered up through darkened eyes. the killing was all on one side; then as a bowl splinters under a stroke, the turkish mass flew apart, and went helter-skelter off, each man striving to take care of himself. the berbers spared none of the overtaken. spying the man with the showy armor, the count made a dash to get to him, and succeeded, for to say truth, he was not an unwilling foeman. a brief combat took place, scarcely more than a blow, and the turk was disarmed and at mercy. "son of isfendiar," said corti, "the slaying these poor people with only their harvest knives for weapons was murder. why should i spare your life?" "i was ordered to punish them." "by whom?" "my lord the sultan." "do your master no shame. i know and honor him." "yesterday they slew our moslems." "they but defended their own.... you deserve death, but i have a message for the lord mahommed. swear by the bones of the prophet to deliver it, and i will spare you." "if you know my master, as you say, he is quick and fierce of temper, and if i must die, the stroke may be preferable at your hand. give me the message first." "well, come with me." the two remained together until the flight and pursuit were ended; then, the fire reduced to patches for want of stalks to feed it, the count led the way back to the point at which he entered the field. taking his lance from the guide, he passed it to the prisoner. "this is what i would have you do," he said. "the lance is mine. carry it to your master, the lord mahommed, and say to him, ugo, count corti, salute him, and prays him to look at the banderole, and fix it in his memory. he will understand the message, and be grateful for it. now will you swear?" the banderole was a small flag of yellow silk, with a red moon in the centre, and on the face of the moon a white cross. glancing at it, the son of isfendiar replied: "take off the cross, and you show me a miniature standard of the _silihdars_, my lord's guard of the palace." then looking the count full in the face, he added: "under other conditions i should salute you mirza, emir of the hajj." "i have given you my name and title. answer." "i will deliver the lance and message to my lord--i swear it by the bones of the prophet." scarcely had the turk disappeared in the direction of hissar, when a crowd of peasants, men and women, were seen coming timorously from the direction of the village. the count rode to meet them, and as they were provided with all manner of litters, by his direction the dead greeks were collected, and soon, with piteous lamentations, a funeral cortege was on the road moving slowly to constantinople. anticipating a speedy reappearance of the turks, hostilities being now unavoidable, count corti despatched messengers everywhere along the bosphorus, warning the farmers and villagers to let their fields go, and seek refuge in the city. so it came about that the escort of the murdered peasants momentarily increased until at the bridge over the sweet waters of europe it became a column composed for the most part of women, children, and old men. many of the women carried babies. the old men staggered under such goods as they could lay their hands on in haste. the able-bodied straggled far in the rear with herds of goats, sheep, and cattle; the air above the road rang with cries and prayers, and the road itself was sprinkled with tears. in a word, the movement was a flight. corti, with his berbers, lingered in the vicinity of the field of fight watchful of the enemy. in the evening, having forwarded a messenger to the emperor, he took stand at the bridge; and well enough, for about dusk a horde of turkish militia swept down from the heights in search of plunder and belated victims. at the first bite of his sword, they took to their heels, and were not again seen. by midnight the settlements and farmhouses of the up-country were abandoned; almost the entire district from galata to fanar on the black sea was reduced to ashes. the greek emperor had no longer a frontier or a province--all that remained to him was his capital. many of the fugitives, under quickening of the demonstration at the bridge, threw their burdens away; so the greater part of them at an early hour after nightfall appeared at the adrianople gate objects of harrowing appeal, empty-handed, broken down, miserable. constantine had the funeral escort met at the gate by torch-bearers, and the sextons of the blacherne chapel. intelligence of the massacre, and that the corpses of the harvesters would be conveyed to the hippodrome for public exposure, having been proclaimed generally through the city, a vast multitude was also assembled at the gate. the sensation was prodigious. there were twenty litters, each with a body upon it unwashed and in bloody garments, exactly as brought in. on the right and left of the litters the torchmen took their places. the sextons lit their long candles, and formed in front. behind trudged the worn, dust-covered, wretched fugitives; and as they failed to realize their rescue, and that they were at last in safety, they did not abate their lamentations. when the innumerable procession passed the gate, and commenced its laborious progress along the narrow streets, seldom, if ever, has anything of the kind more pathetic and funereally impressive been witnessed. let be said what may, after all nothing shall stir the human heart like the faces of fellowmen done to death by a common enemy. there was no misjudgment of the power of the appeal in this instance. it is no exaggeration to say byzantium was out assisting--so did the people throng the thoroughfares, block the street intersections, and look down from the windows and balconies. afar they heard the chanting of the sextons, monotonous, yet solemnly effective; afar they saw the swaying candles and torches; and an awful silence signalized the approach of the pageant; but when it was up, and the bodies were borne past, especially when the ghastly countenances of the sufferers were under eye plainly visible in the red torchlight, the outburst of grief and rage in every form, groans, curses, prayers, was terrible, and the amazing voice, such by unity of utterance, went with the dead, and followed after them until at last the hippodrome was reached. there the emperor, on horseback, and with his court and guards, was waiting, and his presence lent nationality to the mournful spectacle. conducting the bearers of the litters to the middle of the oblong area, he bade them lay their burdens down, and summoned the city to the view. "let there be no haste," he said, "for, in want of their souls, the bruised bodies of our poor countrymen shall lie here all tomorrow, every gaping wound crying for vengeance. then on the next day it will be for us to say what we will do--fight, fly, or surrender." through the remainder of the night the work of closing the gates and making them secure continued without cessation. the guards were strengthened at each of them, and no one permitted to pass out. singular to say, a number of eunuchs belonging to the sultan were caught and held. some of the enraged greeks insisted on their death; but the good heart of the emperor prevailed, and the prisoners were escorted to their master. the embassy which went with them announced the closing of the gates. "since neither oaths, nor treaty, nor submission can secure peace, pursue your impious warfare"--thus constantine despatched to mahommed. "my trust is in god; if it shall please him to mollify your heart, i shall rejoice in the change; if he delivers the city in your hands, i submit without a murmur to his holy will. but until he shall pronounce between us, it is my duty to live and die in defence of my people." [footnote: gibbon] mahommed answered with a formal declaration of war. it remains to say that the bodies of the harvesters were viewed as promised. they lay in a row near the twisted serpent, and the people passed them tearfully; in the night they were taken away and buried. sadder still, the result did not answer the emperor's hope. the feeling, mixed of sorrow and rage, was loudly manifested; but it was succeeded by fear, and when the organization of companies was attempted, the exodus was shameful. thousands fled, leaving about one hundred thousand behind, not to fight, but firm in the faith that heaven would take care of the city. after weeks of effort, five thousand greeks took the arms offered them, and were enrolled. chapter iv europe answers the cry for help a man in love, though the hero of many battles, shall be afraid in the presence of his beloved, and it shall be easier for him to challenge an enemy than to ask her love in return. count corti's eagerness to face the lion in the gallery of the cynegion had established his reputation in constantinople for courage; his recent defence of the harvesters raised it yet higher; now his name was on every tongue. his habit of going about in armor had in the first days of his coming subjected him to criticism; for the eyes before which he passed belonged for the most part to a generation more given to prospecting for bezants in fields of peace than the pursuit of glory in the ruggeder fields of war. but the custom was now accepted, and at sight of him, mounted and in glistening armor, even the critics smiled, and showered his head with silent good wishes, or if they spoke it was to say to each other: "oh, that the blessed mother would send us more like him!" and the count knew he had the general favor. we somehow learn such things without their being told us. up in the empyrean courtly circles his relations were quite as gratifying. the emperor made no concealment of his partiality, and again insisted on bringing him to blacherne. "your majesty," the count said one day, "i have no further need of my galley and its crew. i beg you to do with them as you think best." constantine received the offer gratefully. "the galley is a godsend. i will order payment for it. duke notaras, the grand admiral, will agree with you about the price." "if your majesty will permit me to have my way," the count rejoined, "you will order the vessel into the harbor with the fleet, and if the result of the war is with your majesty, the grand admiral can arrange for the payment; if otherwise"--he smiled at the alternative--"i think neither your majesty nor myself will have occasion for a ship." the galley was transferred from the bay of julian to anchorage in the golden horn. that night, speaking of the tender, the emperor said to phranza: "count corti has cast his lot with us. as i interpret him, he does not mean to survive our defeat. see that he be charged to select a bodyguard to accompany me in action." "is he to be captain of the guard?" "yes." the duty brought the count to blacherne. in a few days he had fifty men, including his nine berbers. these circumstances made him happy. he found peace of mind also in his release from mahommed. not an hour of the day passed without his silently thanking the sultan for his magnanimity. but no matter for rejoicing came to him like the privilege of freely attending the princess irene. not only was her reception-room open to him; whether she went to blacherne or sancta sophia, he appeared in her train. often when the hour of prayer arrived, she invited him as one of her household to accompany her to the apartment she had set apart for chapel exercises; and at such times he strove to be devout, but in taking her for his pattern of conduct--as yet he hardly knew when to arise or kneel, or cross himself--if his thoughts wandered from the madonna and child to her, if sometimes he fell to making comparisons in which the madonna suffered as lacking beauty--nay, if not infrequently he caught himself worshipping the living woman at the foot of the altar rather than the divinity above it, few there were who would have been in haste to condemn him even in that day. there is nothing modern in the world's love of a lover. by the treaty with mahommed he was free to tell the princess of his passion; and there were moments in which it seemed he must cast himself at her feet and speak; but then he would be seized with a trembling, his tongue would unaccountably refuse its office, and he would quiet himself with the weakling's plea--another time--to-morrow, to-morrow. and always upon the passing of the opportunity, the impulse being laid with so many of its predecessors in the graveyard of broken resolutions--every swain afraid keeps such a graveyard--always he sallied from her door eager for an enemy on whom to vent his vexation. "ah," he would say, with prolonged emphasis upon the exclamation--"if mahommed were only at the gate! is he never coming?" one day he dismounted at the princess' door, and was ushered into the reception-room by lysander. "i bring you good news," he said, in course of the conversation. "what now?" she asked. "every sword counts. i am just from the port of blacherne, whither i accompanied the grand equerry to assist in receiving one john grant, who has arrived with a following of free lances, mostly my own countrymen." "who is john grant?" "a german old in eastern service; more particularly an expert in making and throwing hollow iron balls filled with inflammable liquid. on striking, the balls burst, after which the fire is unquenchable with water." "oh! our greek fire rediscovered!" "so he declares. his majesty has ordered him the materials he asks, and that he go to work to-morrow getting a store of his missiles ready. the man declares also, if his holiness would only proclaim a crusade against the turks. constantinople has not space on her walls to hold the volunteers who would hasten to her defence. he says genoa, venice, all italy, is aroused and waiting." "john grant is welcome," the princess returned; "the more so that his holiness is slow." afterward, about the first of december, the count again dismounted at her door with news. "what is it now?" she inquired. "noble princess, his holiness has been heard from." "at last?" "a legate will arrive to-morrow." "only a legate! what is his name?" "isidore, grand metropolitan of russia." "brings he a following?" "no soldiers; only a suite of priests high and low." "i see. he comes to negotiate. alas!" "why alas?" "oh, the factions, the factions!" she exclaimed, disconsolately; then, seeing the count still in wonder, she added: "know you not that isidore, familiarly called the cardinal, was appointed metropolitan of the russian greek church by the pope, and, rejected by it, was driven to refuge in poland? what welcome can we suppose he will receive here?" "is he not a greek?" "yes, truly; but being a latin churchman, the brotherhoods hold him an apostate. his first demand will be to celebrate mass in sancta sophia. if the world were about shaking itself to pieces, the commotion would be but little greater than the breaking of things we will then hear. oh, it is an ill wind which blows him to our gates!" meantime the hippodrome had been converted into a campus martius, where at all hours of the day the newly enlisted men were being drilled in the arms to which they were assigned; now as archers, now as slingers; now with balistas and catapults and arquebuses; now to the small artillery especially constructed for service on the walls. and as trade was at an end in the city, as in fact martial preparation occupied attention to the exclusion of business in the commercial sense, the ancient site was a centre of resort. thither the count hastened to work off the disheartenment into which the comments of the princess had thrown him. that same week, however, he and the loyal population of constantinople in general, were cheered by a coming of real importance. early one morning some vessels of war hove in sight down the marmora. their flags proclaimed them christian. simultaneously the lookouts at point demetrius reported a number of turkish galleys plying to and fro up the bosphorus. it was concluded that a naval battle was imminent. the walls in the vicinity of the point were speedily crowded with spectators. in fact, the anxiety was great enough to draw the emperor from his high residence. not doubting the galleys were bringing him stores, possibly reinforcements, he directed his small fleet in the golden horn to be ready to go to their assistance. his conjecture was right; yet more happily the turks made no attempt upon them. turning into the harbor, the strangers ran up the flags of venice and genoa, and never did they appear so beautiful, seen by byzantines--never were they more welcome. the decks were crowded with helmed men who responded vigorously to the cheering with which they were saluted. constantine in person received the newcomers at the port of blacherne. from the wall over the gate the princess irene, with an escort of noble ladies, witnessed the landing. a knight of excellent presence stepped from a boat, and announced himself. "i am john justiniani of genoa," he said, "come with two thousand companions in arms to the succor of the most christian emperor constantine. guide me to him, i pray." "the emperor is here--i am he." justiniani kissed the hand extended to him, and returned with fervor: "christ and the mother be praised! much have i been disquieted lest we should be too late. your majesty, command me." "duke notaras," said the emperor, "assist this noble gentleman and his companions. when they are disembarked, conduct them to me. for the present i will lodge them in my residence." then he addressed the genoese: "duke notaras, high admiral of the empire, will answer your every demand. in god's name, and for the imperilled religion of our redeeming lord, i bid you welcome." it seemed the waving of scarfs and white hands on the wall, and the noisy salutations of the people present, were not agreeable to the duke; although coldly polite, he impressed justiniani as an ill second to the stately but courteous emperor. at night there was an audience in the very high residence, and justiniani assisted phranza in the presentation of his companions; and though the banquet which shortly succeeded the audience may not, in the courses served or in its table splendors, have vied with those alexis resorted to for the dazzlement of the chiefs of the first crusade, it was not entirely wanting in such particulars; for it has often happened, if the chronicles may be trusted, that the expiring light of great countries has lingered longest in their festive halls, just as old families have been known to nurture their pride in sparkling heirlooms, all else having been swept away. the failings on this occasion, if any there were, constantine more than amended by his engaging demeanor. soldier not less than emperor, he knew to win the sympathy and devotion of soldiers. of his foreign guests that evening many afterwards died hardly distinguishing between him and the holy cause which led them to their fate. the table was long, and without head or foot. on one side, in the middle, the emperor presided; opposite him sat the princess irene; and on their right and left, in gallant interspersion, other ladies, the wives and daughters of senators, nobles, and officials of the court, helped charm the western chivalry. and of the guests, the names of a few have been preserved by history, together with the commands to which they were assigned in the siege. there was andrew dinia, under duke notaras, a captain of galleys. there was the venetian contarino, intrusted with the defence of the golden grate. there was maurice cataneo, a soldier of genoa, commandant of the walls on the landward side between the golden gate and the gate selimbria. there were two brothers, gentlemen of genoa, paul bochiardi and antonin troilus bochiardi, defendants of the adrianople gate. there was jerome minotte, bayle of venice, charged with safe keeping the walls between the adrianople gate and the cerco portas. there was the artillerist, german john grant, who, with theodore carystos, made sure of the gate charsias. there was leonardo de langasco, another genoese, keeper of the wood gate. there was gabriel travisan; with four hundred other venetians, he maintained the stretch of wall on the harbor front between point demetrius and the port st. peter. there was pedro guiliani, the spanish consul, assigned to the guardianship of the wall on the sea side from point demetrius to the port of julian. there also was stout nicholas gudelli; with the emperor's brother, he commanded the force in reserve. now these, or the major part of them, may have been free lances; yet they did not await the motion of nicholas, the dilatory pope, and were faithful, and to-day exemplify the saying: "that men may rise on stepping-stones of their dead selves to higher things." chapter v count corti receives a favor "gracious princess, the italian, count corti, is at the door. he prays you to hear a request from him." "return, lysander, and bring the count." it was early morning, with february in its last days. the visitor's iron shoes clanked sharply on the marble floor of the reception room, and the absence of everything like ornament in his equipment bespoke preparation for immediate hard service. "i hope the mother is keeping you well," she said, presenting her hand to him. with a fervor somewhat more marked than common, he kissed the white offering, and awaited her bidding. "my attendants are gone to the chapel, but i will hear you--or will you lend us your presence at the service, and have the audience afterwards?" "i am in armor, and my steed is at the door, and my men biding at the adrianople gate; wherefore, fair princess, if it be your pleasure, i will present my petition now." in grave mistrust, she returned: "god help us, count! i doubt you have something ill to relate. since the good gregory fled into exile to escape his persecutors, but more especially since cardinal isidore attempted latin mass in sancta sophia, and the madman gennadius so frightened the people with his senseless anathemas, [footnote: the scene here alluded to by the princess irene is doubtless the one so vividly described by gibbon as having taken place in sancta sophia, the th of december, , being the mass celebrated by cardinal isidore in an attempt to reconcile the latin and greek factions. enumerating the consequences of the same futile effort at compromise, von hammer says: "instead of uniting for the common defence, the greeks and latins fled, leaving the churches empty; the priests refused the sacrament to the dying who were not of their faith; the monks and nuns repudiated confessors who acknowledged the _henoticon_ (decree ordaining the reunion of the two churches); a spirit of frenzy took possession of the convents; one _religieuse_, to the great scandal of all the faithful, adopted the faith and costume of the mussulmans, eating meat and adoring the prophet. thus lent passed." (vol. ii., p. .) to the same effect we read in the universal history of the catholic church (vol. xxii., p. ): "the religious who affected to surpass others in sanctity of life and purity of faith, following the advice of gennadius and their spiritual advisers, as well as that of the preachers and laity of their party, condemned the decree of union, and anathematized those who approved or might approve it. the common people, sallying from the monasteries, betook themselves to the taverns; there flourishing glasses of wine, they reviled all who had consented to the union, and drinking in honor of an image of the mother of god, prayed her to protect and defend the city against mahomet, as she had formerly defended it against chosroes and the kagan. we will have nothing to do with assistance from the latins or a union with them. far from us be the worship of the _azymites_."] i have been beset with forebodings until i startle at my own thoughts. it were gentle, did you go to your request at once." she permitted him to lead her to an armless chair, and, standing before her, he spoke with decision: "princess irene, now that you have resolved finally to remain in the city, and abide the issue of the siege, rightly judging it an affair determinable by god, it is but saying the truth as i see it, that no one is more interested in what betides us from day to day than you; for if heaven frowns upon our efforts at defence, and there comes an assault, and we are taken, the conqueror, by a cruel law of war, has at disposal the property both public and private he gains, and every living thing as well. we who fight may die the death he pleases; you--alas, most noble and virtuous lady, my tongue refuses the words that rise to it for utterance!" the rose tints in her cheeks faded, yet she answered: "i know what you would say, and confess it has appalled me. sometimes it tempts me to fly while yet i can; then i remember i am a palaeologus. i remember also my kinsman the emperor is to be sustained in the trial confronting him. i remember too the other women, high and low, who will stay and share the fortunes of their fighting husbands and brothers. if i have less at stake than they, count corti, the demands of honor are more rigorous upon me." the count's eyes glowed with admiration, but next moment the light in them went out. "noble lady," he began, "i hope it will not be judged too great a familiarity to say i have some days been troubled on your account. i have feared you might be too confident of our ability to beat the enemy. it seems my duty to warn you of the real outlook that you may permit us to provide for your safety while opportunities favor." "for my flight, count corti?" "nay, princess irene, your retirement from the city." she smiled at the distinction he made, but replied: "i will hear you, count." "it is for you to consider, o princess--if reports of the sultan's preparation are true--this assault in one feature at least will be unparalleled. the great guns for which he has been delaying are said to be larger than ever before used against walls. they may destroy our defences at once; they may command all the space within those defences; they may search every hiding-place; the uncertainties they bring with them are not to be disregarded by the bravest soldier, much less the unresisting classes.... in the next place, i think it warrantable from the mass of rumors which has filled the month to believe the city will be assailed by a force much greater than was ever drawn together under her walls. suffer me to refer to them, o princess... the sultan is yet at adrianople assembling his army. large bodies of footmen are crossing the hellespont at gallipolis and the bosphorus at hissar; in the region of adrianople the country is covered with hordes of horsemen speaking all known tongues and armed with every known weapon--cossacks from the north, arabs from the south, koords and tartars from the east, roumanians and slavs from beyond the balkans. the roads from the northwest are lined with trains bringing supplies and siege-machinery. the cities along the shores of the black sea have yielded to mahommed; those which defied him are in ruins. an army is devastating morea. the brother whom his majesty the emperor installed ruler there is dead or a wanderer, no man can say in what parts. assistance cannot be expected from him. above us, far as the sea, the bays are crowded with ships of all classes; four hundred hostile sail have been counted from the hill-tops. and now that there is no longer a hope of further aid from the christians of europe, the effect of the news upon our garrison is dispiriting. our garrison! alas, princess, with the foreigners come to our aid, it is not sufficient to man the walls on the landward side alone." "the picture is gloomy, count, but if you have drawn it to shake my purpose, it is not enough. i have put myself in the hands of the blessed mother. i shall stay, and be done with as god orders." again the count's face glowed with admiration. "i thought as much, o princess," he said warmly; "yet it seemed to me a duty to advise you of the odds against us; and now, the duty done, i pray you hear me as graciously upon another matter.... last night, seeing the need of information of the enemy, i besought his majesty to allow me to ride toward adrianople. he consented, and i set out immediately; but before going, before bidding you adieu, noble princess and dear lady, i have a prayer to offer you." he hesitated; then plucking courage from the embarrassment of silence, went on: "dear lady, your resolution to stay and face the dangers of the siege and assault fills me with alarm for your safety." he cast himself upon his knees, and stretched his hands to her. "give me permission to protect you. i devote my sword to you, and the skill of my hands--my life, my soul. let me be your knight." she arose, but he continued: "some day, deeds done for your country and religion may give me courage to speak more boldly of what i feel and hope; but now i dare go no further than ask what you have just heard. let me be your protector and knight through the perils of the siege at least." the princess was pleased with the turn his speech had taken. she thought rapidly. a knight in battle, foremost in the press, her name a conquering cry on his lips were but the constituents of a right womanly ambition. she answered: "count corti, i accept thy offer." taking the hand she extended, he kissed it reverently, and said: "i am happy above other men. now, o princess, give me a favor--a glove, a scarf--something i may wear, to prove me thy knight." she took from her neck a net of knitted silk, pinkish in hue, and large enough for a kerchief or waist sash. "if i go about this gift," she said, her face deeply suffused, "in a way to provoke a smile hereafter; if in placing it around thy neck with my own hands"--with the words, she bent over him, and dropped the net outside the hood so the ends hung loosely down his breast--"i overstep any rule of modesty, i pray you will not misunderstand me. i am thinking of my country, my kinsman, of religion and god, and the service even unto noble deeds thou mayst do them. rise, count corti. in the ride before thee now, in the perils to come, thou shalt have my prayers." the count arose, but afraid to trust himself in further speech, he carried her hand to his lips again, and with a simple farewell, hurried out, and mounting his horse rode at speed for the adrianople gate. four days after, he reentered the gate, bringing a prisoner, and passing straight to the very high residence, made report to the emperor, justiniani and duke notaras in council. "i have been greatly concerned for you, count," said constantine; "and not merely because a good sword can be poorly spared just now." the imperial pleasure was unfeigned. "your majesty's grace is full reward for my performance," the count replied, and rising from the salutation, he began his recital. "stay," said the emperor, "i will have a seat brought that you may be at ease." corti declined: "the arabs have a saying, your majesty--'a nest for a setting bird, a saddle for a warrior.' the jaunt has but rested me, and there was barely enough danger in it.... the turk is an old acquaintance. i have lived with him, and been his guest in house and tent, and as a comrade tempted providence at his side under countless conditions, until i know his speech and usages, himself scarcely better. my african berbers are all mohammedans who have performed the pilgrimage. one of them is a muezzin by profession; and if he can but catch sight of the sun, he will never miss the five hours of prayer. none of them requires telling the direction to mecca.... i issued from your majesty's great gate about the third hour, and taking the road to adrianople, journeyed till near midday before meeting a human being. there were farms and farmhouses on my right and left, and the fields had been planted in good season; but the growing grain was wasted; and when i sought the houses to have speech with their tenants they were forsaken. twice we were driven off by the stench of bodies rotting before the doors." "greeks?" "greeks, your majesty.... there were wild hogs in the thickets which fled at sight of us, and vultures devouring the corpses." "were there no other animals, no horses or oxen?" asked justiniani. "none, noble genoese--none seen by us, and the swine were spared, i apprehend, because their meat is prohibited to the children of islam.... at length hadifah, whom i have raised to be a sheik--your majesty permitting--and whose eyes discover the small things with which space is crowded as he were a falcon making circles up near the sun--hadifah saw a man in the reeds hiding; and we pursued the wretch, and caught him, and he too was a greek; and when his fright allowed him to talk, he told us a band of strange people, the like of whom he had never seen, attacked his hut, burned it, carried off his goats and she buffaloes; and since that hour, five weeks gone, he had been hunting for his wife and three girl-children. god be merciful to them! of the turks he could tell nothing except that now, everything of value gone, they too had disappeared. i gave the poor man a measure of oaten cakes, and left him to his misery. god be merciful to him also!" "did you not advise him to come to me?" "your majesty, he was a husband and father seeking his family; with all humility, what else is there for him to do?" "i give your judgment credit, count. there is nothing else." "i rode on till night, meeting nobody, friend or foe--on through a wide district, lately inhabited, now a wilderness. the creatures of the sultan had passed through it, and there was fire in their breath. we discovered a dried-up stream, and by sinking in its bed obtained water for our horses. there, in a hollow, we spent the night.... next morning, after an hour's ride, we met a train of carts drawn by oxen. the groaning and creaking of the distraught wheels warned me of the encounter before the advance guard of mounted men, quite a thousand strong, were in view. i did not draw rein"-- "what!" cried justiniani, astonished. "with but a company of nine?" the count smiled. "i crave your pardon, gallant captain. in my camp the night before, i prepared my berbers for the meeting." "by the bones of the saints, count corti, thou dost confuse me the more! with such odds against thee, what preparations were at thy command?" "'there was never amulet like a grain of wit in a purse under thy cap.' good captain, the saying is not worse of having proceeded from a persian. i told my followers we were likely at any moment to be overtaken by a force too strong for us to fight; but instead of running away, we must meet them heartily, as friends enlisted in the same cause; and if they asked whence we were, we must be sure of agreement in our reply. i was to be a turk; they, egyptians from west of the nile. we had come in by the new fortress opposite the white castle, and were going to the mighty lord mahommed in adrianople. beyond that, i bade them be silent, leaving the entertainment of words to me." the emperor and justiniani laughed, but notaras asked: "if thy berbers are mohammedans, as thou sayest, count corti, how canst thou rely on them against mohammedans?" "my lord the high admiral may not have heard of the law by which, if one arab kills another, the relatives of the dead man are bound to kill him, unless there be composition. so i had merely to remind hadifah and his companions of the turks we slew in the field near basch-kegan." corti continued: "after parley with the captain of the advance guard, i was allowed to ride on; and coming to the train, i found the carts freighted with military engines and tools for digging trenches and fortifying camps. there were hundreds of them, and the drivers were a multitude. indeed, your majesty, from head to foot the caravan was miles in reach, its flanks well guarded by groups of horsemen at convenient intervals." this statement excited the three counsellors. "after passing the train," the count was at length permitted to resume, "my way was through bodies of troops continuously--all irregulars. it must have been about three o'clock in the afternoon when i came upon the most surprising sight. much i doubt if ever the noble captain justiniani, with all his experience, can recall anything like it. "first there was a great company of pioneers with tools for grading the hills and levelling the road; then on a four-wheeled carriage two men stood beating a drum; their sticks looked like the enlarged end of a galley oar. the drum responded to their blows in rumbles like dull thunder from distant clouds. while i sat wondering why they beat it, there came up next sixty oxen yoked in pairs. your majesty can in fancy measure the space they covered. on the right and left of each yoke strode drivers with sharpened goads, and their yelling harmonized curiously with the thunder of the drum. the straining of the brutes was pitiful to behold. and while i wondered yet more, a log of bronze was drawn toward me big at one end as the trunk of a great plane tree, and so long that thirty carts chained together as one wagon, were required to support it laid lengthwise; and to steady the piece on its rolling bed, two hundred and fifty stout laborers kept pace with it unremittingly watchful. the movement was tedious, but at last i saw"-- "a cannon!" exclaimed the genoese. "yes, noble captain, the gun said to be the largest ever cast." "didst thou see any of the balls?" "other carts followed directly loaded with gray limestones chiselled round; and to my inquiry what the stones were for, i was told they were bullets twelve spans in circumference, and that the charge of powder used would cast them a mile." the inquisitors gazed at each other mutely, and their thoughts may be gathered from the action of the emperor. he touched a bell on a table, and to phranza, who answered the call, he said: "lord chamberlain, have two men well skilled in the construction of walls report to me in the morning. there is work for them which they must set about at once. i will furnish the money." [footnote: before the siege by the turks, two monks, manuel giagari and neophytus of rhodes, were charged with repairing the walls, but they buried the sums intrusted to them for these works; and in the pillage of the city seventy thousand pieces of gold thus advanced by the emperor were unearthed.--von hammer, vol. ii., p. .] "i have but little more of importance to engage your majesty's attention.... behind the monster cannon, two others somewhat smaller were brought up in the same careful manner. i counted seventeen pieces all brass, the least of them exceeding in workmanship and power the best in the hippodrome." "were there more?" justiniani asked. "many more, brave captain, but ancient, and unworthy mention.... the day was done when, by sharp riding, i gained the rear of the train. at sunrise on the third day, i set out in return.... i have a prisoner whom this august council may examine with profit. he will, at least, confirm my report." "who is he?" "the captain of the advance guard." "how came you by him?" "your majesty, i induced him to ride a little way with me, and at a convenient time gave his bridle rein to hadifah. in his boyhood the sheik was trained to leading camels, and he assures me it is much easier to lead a horse." the sally served to lighten the sombre character of the count's report, and in the midst of the merriment, he was dismissed. the prisoner was then brought in, and put to question; next day the final preparation for the reception of mahommed was begun. with a care equal to the importance of the business, constantine divided the walls into sections, beginning on the landward side of the golden gate or seven towers, and ending at the cynegion. of the harbor front he made one division, with the grand gate of blacherne and the acropolis or point serail for termini; from point serail to the seven towers he stationed patrols and lookouts, thinking the sea and rocks sufficient to discourage assault in that quarter. his next care was the designation of commandants of the several divisions. the individuals thus honored have been already mentioned; though it may be well to add how the papal legate, cardinal isidore, doffing his frock and donning armor, voluntarily accepted chief direction along the harbor--an example of martial gallantry which ought to have shamed the lukewarm greeks morosely skulking in their cells. shrewdly anticipating a concentration of effort against the gate st. romain, and its two auxiliary towers, bagdad and st. romain, the former on the right hand and the latter on the left, he assigned justiniani to its defence. upon the walls, and in the towers numerously garnishing them, the gallant emperor next brought up his guns and machines, with profuse supplies of missiles. then, after flooding the immense ditch, he held a review in the hippodrome, whence the several detachments marched to their stations. riding with his captains, and viewing the walls, now gay with banners and warlike tricking, constantine took heart, and told how amurath, the peerless warrior, had dashed his janissaries against them, and rued the day. "is this boy mahommed greater than his father?" he asked. "god knows," isidore responded, crossing himself breast and forehead. and well content, the cavalcade repassed the ponderous gate st. romain. all that could be done had been done. there was nothing more but to wait. chapter vi mahommed at the gate st. romain in the city april seemed to have borrowed from the delays of mahommed; never month so slow in coming. at last, however, its first day, dulled by a sky all clouds, and with winds from the balkans. the inertness of the young sultan was not from want of will or zeal. it took two months to drag his guns from adrianople; but with them the army moved, and as it moved it took possession, or rather covered the land. at length, he too arrived, bringing, as it were, the month with him; and then he lost no more time. about five miles from the walls on the south or landward side, he drew his hordes together in the likeness of a line of battle, and at a trumpet call they advanced in three bodies simultaneously. so a tidal wave, far extending, broken, noisy, terrible, rises out of the deep, and rolls upon a shore of stony cliffs. near ten o'clock in the forenoon of the sixth of april the emperor mounted the roof of the tower of st. romain, mentioned as at the left of the gate bearing the same name. there were with him justiniani, the cardinal isidore, john grant, phranza, theophilus palaeologus, duke notaras, and a number of inferior persons native and foreign. he had come to see all there was to be seen of the turks going into position. the day was spring-like, with just enough breeze to blow the mists away. the reader must think of the roof as an immense platform accessible by means of a wooden stairway in the interior of the tower, and battlemented on the four sides, the merlons of stone in massive blocks, and of a height to protect a tall man, the embrasures requiring banquettes to make them serviceable. in arrangement somewhat like a ship's battery, there are stoutly framed arbalists and mangonels on the platform, and behind them, with convenient spaces between, arquebuses on tripods, cumbrous catapults, and small cannon on high axles ready for wheeling into position between the merlons. near each machine its munitions lie in order. leaning against the walls there are also spears, javelins, and long and cross bows; while over the corner next the gate floats an imperial standard, its white field emblazoned with the immemorial greek cross in gold. the defenders of the tower are present; and as they are mostly byzantines, their attitudes betray much more than cold military respect, for they are receiving the emperor, whom they have been taught to regard worshipfully. they study him, and take not a little pride in observing that, clad in steel cap-a-pie, he in no wise suffers by comparison with the best of his attendants, not excepting justiniani, the renowned genoese captain. not more to see than be seen, the visor of his helmet is raised; and stealing furtive glances at his countenance, noble by nature, but just now more than ordinarily inspiring, they are better and stronger for what they read in it. on the right and left the nearest towers obstruct the view of the walls in prolongation; but southward the country spreads before the party a campania rolling and fertile, dotted with trees scattered and in thin groves, and here and there an abandoned house. the tender green of vegetation upon the slopes reminds those long familiar with them that grass is already invading what were lately gardens and cultivated fields. constantine makes the survey in silence, for he knows how soon even the grass must disappear. just beyond the flooded ditch at the foot of the first or outward wall is a road, and next beyond the road a cemetery crowded with tombs and tombstones, and brown and white mausolean edifices; indeed, the chronicles run not back to a time when that marginal space was unallotted to the dead. from the far skyline the eyes of the fated emperor drop to the cemetery, and linger there. presently one of his suite calls out: "hark! what sound is that?" they all give attention. "it is thunder." "no--thunder rolls. this is a beat." constantine and justiniani remembered count corti's description of the great drum hauled before the artillery train of the turks, and the former said calmly: "they are coming." almost as he spoke the sunlight mildly tinting the land in the farness seemed to be troubled, and on the tops of the remote hillocks there appeared to be giants rolling them up, as children roll snow-balls--and the movement was toward the city. the drum ceased not its beating or coming. justiniani by virtue of his greater experience, was at length able to say: "your majesty, it is here in front of us; and as this gate st. romain marks the centre of your defences, so that drum marks the centre of an advancing line, and regulates the movement from wing to wing." "it must be so, captain; for see--there to the left--those are bodies of men." "and now, your majesty, i hear trumpets." a little later some one cried out: "now i hear shouting." and another: "i see gleams of metal." ere long footmen and horsemen were in view, and the byzantines, brought to the wall by thousands, gazed and listened in nervous wonder; for look where they might over the campania, they saw the enemy closing in upon them, and heard his shouting, and the neighing of horses, the blaring of horns, and the palpitant beating of drums. "by our lady of blacherne," said the emperor, after a long study of the spectacle, "it is a great multitude, reaching to the sea here on our left, and, from the noise, to the golden horn on our right; none the less i am disappointed. i imagined much splendor of harness and shields and banners, but see only blackness and dust. i cannot make out amongst them one sultanic flag. tell me, most worthy john grant--it being reported that thou hast great experience combating with and against these hordes--tell me if this poverty of appearance is usual with them." the sturdy german, in a jargon difficult to follow, answered: "these at our left are the scum of asia. they are here because they have nothing; their hope is to better their condition, to return rich, to exchange ragged turbans for crowns, and goatskin jackets for robes of silk. look, your majesty, the tombs in front of us are well kept; to-morrow if there be one left standing, it will have been rifled. of the lately buried there will not be a ring on a finger or a coin under a tongue. oh, yes, the ghouls will look better next week! only give them time to convert the clothes they will strip from the dead into fresh turbans. but when the janissaries come your majesty will not be disappointed. see--their advance guard now--there on the rising ground in front of the gate." there was a swell of ground to the right of the gate rather than in front of it, and as the party looked thither, a company of horsemen were seen riding slowly but in excellent order, and the sheen of their arms and armor silvered the air about them. immediately other companies deployed on the right and left of the first one; then the thunderous drum ceased; whereat, from the hordes out on the campania, brought to a sudden standstill, detachments dashed forward at full speed, and dismounting, began digging a trench. "be this sultan like or unlike his father, he is a soldier. he means to cover his army, and at the same time enclose us from sea to harbor. to-morrow, my lord, only high-flying hawks can communicate with us from the outside." this, from justiniani to the emperor, was scarcely noticed, for behind the deploying janissaries, there arose an outburst of music in deep volume, the combination of clarions and cymbals so delightful to warriors of the east; at the same instant a yellow flag was displayed. then old john grant exclaimed: "the colors of the _silihdars!_ mahommed is not far away. nay, your majesty, look--the sultan himself!" through an interval of the guard, a man in chain mail shooting golden sparkles, helmed, and with spear in hand and shield at his back, trotted forth, his steed covered with flowing cloths. behind him appeared a suite mixed of soldiers and civilians, the former in warlike panoply, the latter in robes and enormous turbans. down the slope the foremost rider led as if to knock at the gate. on the tower the cannon were loaded, and run into the embrasures. "mahommed, saidst thou, john grant?" "mahommed, your majesty." "then i call him rash; but as we are not ashamed of our gates and walls, let him have his look in peace.... hear you, men, let him look, and go in peace." the repetition was in restraint of the eager gunners. further remark was cut short by a trumpet sounded at the foot of the tower. an officer peered over the wall, and reported: "your majesty, a knight just issued from the gate is riding forth. i take him to be the italian, count corti." constantine became a spectator of what ensued. ordinarily the roadway from the country was carried over the deep moat in front of the gate st. romain by a floor of stout timbers well balustraded at the sides, and resting on brick piers. of the bridge nothing now remained but a few loose planks side by side ready to be hastily snatched from their places. to pass them afoot was a venture; yet count corti, when the emperor looked at him from the height, was making the crossing mounted, and blowing a trumpet as he went. "is the man mad?" asked the emperor, in deep concern. "mad? no, he is challenging the mahounds to single combat; and, my lords and gentlemen, if he be skilful as he is bold, then, by the three kings of cologne, we will see some pretty work in pattern for the rest of us." thus grant replied. corti made the passage safely, and in the road beyond the moat halted, and drove the staff of his banderole firmly in the ground. a broad opening through the cemetery permitted him to see and be seen by the turks, scarcely a hundred yards away. standing in his stirrups, he sounded the trumpet again--a clear call ringing with defiance. mahommed gave over studying the tower and deep-sunken gate, and presently beckoned to his suite. "what is the device on yon pennon?" he asked. "a moon with a cross on its face." "say you so?" twice the defiance was repeated, and so long the young sultan, sat still, his countenance unusually grave. he recognized the count; only he thought of him by the dearer oriental name, mirza. he knew also how much more than common ambition there was in the blatant challenge--that it was a reminder of the treaty between them, and, truly interpreted, said, in effect: "lo, my lord! she is well, and for fear thou judge me unworthy of her, send thy bravest to try me." and he hesitated--an accident might quench the high soul. alas, then, for the princess irene in the day of final assault! who would deliver her to him? the hordes, and the machinery, all the mighty preparation, were, in fact, less for conquest and glory than love. sore the test had there been one in authority to say to him: "she is thine, lord mahommed; thine, so thou take her, and leave the city." a third time the challenge was delivered, and from the walls a taunting cheer descended. then the son of isfendiar, recognizing the banderole, and not yet done with chafing over his former defeat, pushed through the throng about mahommed, and prayed: "o my lord, suffer me to punish yon braggart." mahommed replied: "thou hast felt his hand already, but go--i commend thee to thy houris." he settled in his saddle smiling. the danger was not to the count. the arms, armor, weapons, and horse-furniture of the moslem were identical with the italian's; and it being for the challenged party to determine with what the duel should be fought, whether with axe, sword, lance or bow, the son of isfendiar chose the latter, and made ready while advancing. the count was not slow in imitating him. each held his weapon--short for saddle service--in the left hand, the arrow in place, and the shield on the left forearm. no sooner had they reached the open ground in the cemetery than they commenced moving in circles, careful to keep the enemy on the shield side at a distance of probably twenty paces. the spectators became silent. besides the skill which masters in such affrays should possess, they were looking for portents of the result. three times the foemen encircled each other with shield guard so well kept that neither saw an opening to attack; then the turk discharged his arrow, intending to lodge it in the shoulder of the other's horse, the buckling attachments of the neck mail being always more or less imperfect. the count interposed his shield, and shouted in osmanli: "out on thee, son of isfendiar! i am thy antagonist, not my horse. thou shalt pay for the cowardice." he then narrowed the circle of his movement, and spurring full speed, compelled the turk to turn on a pivot so reduced it was almost a halt. the exposure while taking a second shaft from the quiver behind the right shoulder was dangerously increased. "beware!" the count cried again, launching his arrow through the face opening of the hood. the son of isfendiar might never attain his father's pachalik. there was not voice left him for a groan. he reeled in his saddle, clutching the empty air, then tumbled to the earth. the property of the dead man, his steed, arms, and armor, were lawful spoils; but without heeding them, the count retired to his banderole, and, amidst the shouts of the greeks on the walls and towers, renewed the challenge. a score of chiefs beset the sultan for permission to engage the insolent _gabour_. to an arab sheik, loudest in importunity, he said: "what has happened since yesterday to dissatisfy thee with life?" the sheik raised a lance with a flexible shaft twenty feet in length, made of a cane peculiar to the valley of the jordan, and shaking it stoutly, replied: "allah, and the honor of my tribe!" perceiving the man's reliance in his weapon, mahommed returned: "how many times didst thou pray yesterday?" "five times, my lord." "and to-day?" "twice." "go, then; but as yon champion hath not a lance to put him on equality with thee, he will be justified in taking to the sword." the sheik's steed was of the most precious strain of el-hejaz; and sitting high in the saddle, a turban of many folds on his head, a striped robe drawn close to the waist, his face thin, coffee-colored, hawk-nosed, and lightning-eyed, he looked a king of the desert. galloping down on the christian, he twirled the formidable lance dextrously, until it seemed not more than a stalk of dried papyrus. the count beheld in the performance a trick of the _djerid_ he had often practised with mahommed. uncertain if the man's robe covered armor, he met him with an arrow, and seeing it fall off harmless, tossed the bow on his back, drew sword, and put his horse in forward movement, caracoling right and left to disturb the enemy's aim. nothing could be more graceful than this action. suddenly the sheik stopped playing, and balancing the lance overhead, point to the foe, rushed with a shrill cry upon him. corti's friends on the tower held their breath; even the emperor said: "it is too unequal. god help him!" at the last moment, however--the moment of the thrust--changing his horse to the right, the count laid himself flat upon its side, under cover of his shield. the thrust, only a little less quick, passed him in the air, and before the sheik could recover or shorten his weapon, the trained foeman was within its sweep. in a word, the arab was at mercy. riding with him side by side, hand on his shoulder, the count shouted: "yield thee!" "dog of a christian, never! do thy worst." the sword twirled once--a flash--then it descended, severing the lance in front of the owner's grip. the fragment fell to the earth. "now yield thee!" the sheik drew rein. "why dost thou not kill me?" "i have a message for thy master yonder, the lord mahommed." "speak it then." "tell him he is in range of the cannon on the towers, and only the emperor's presence there restrains the gunners. there is much need for thee to haste." "who art thou?" "i am an italian knight who, though thy lord's enemy, hath reason to love him. wilt thou go?" "i will do as thou sayest." "alight, then. thy horse is mine." "for ransom?" "no." the sheik dismounted grumblingly, and was walking off when the cheering of the greeks stung him to the soul. "a chance--o christian, another chance--to-day--to-morrow!" "deliver the message; it shall be as thy lord may then appoint. bestir thyself." the count led the prize to the banderole, and flinging the reins over it, faced the gleaming line of janissaries once more, trumpet at mouth. he saw the sheik salute mahommed; then the attendants closed around them. "a courteous dog, by the prophet!" said the sultan. "in what tongue did he speak?" "my lord, he might have been bred under my own tent." the sultan's countenance changed. "was there not more of his message?" he was thinking of the princess irene. "yes, my lord." "repeat it." "he will fight me again to-day or to-morrow, as my lord may appoint--and i want my horse. without him, el-hejaz will be a widow." a red spot appeared on mahommed's forehead. "begone!" he cried angrily. "seest thou not, o fool, that when we take the city we will recover thy horse? fight thou shalt not, for in that day i shall have need of thee." thereupon he bade them open for him, and rode slowly back up the eminence, and when he disappeared corti was vainly sounding his trumpet. the two horses were led across the dismantled bridge, and into the gate. "heaven hath sent me a good soldier," said the emperor to the count, upon descending from the tower. then justiniani asked: "why didst thou spare thy last antagonist?" corti answered truthfully. "it was well done," the genoese returned, offering his hand. "ay," said constantine, cordially, "well done. but mount now, and ride with us." "your majesty, a favor first.... a man is in the road dead. let his body be placed on a bier, and carried to his friends." "a most christian request! my lord chamberlain, attend to it." the cavalcade betook itself then to other parts, the better to see the disposition of the turks; and everywhere on the landward side it was the same--troops in masses, and intrenchments in progress. closing the inspection at set of sun, the emperor beheld the sea and the bosphorus in front of the golden horn covered with hundreds of sails. "the leaguer is perfected," said the genoese. "and the issue with god," constantine replied. "let us to hagia st. sophia." chapter vii the great gun speaks the first sufficient gleam of light next morning revealed to the watchmen on the towers an ominous spectacle. through the night they had heard a medley of noises peculiar to a multitude at work with all their might; now, just out of range of their own guns, they beheld a continuous rampart of fresh earth grotesquely spotted with marbles from the cemetery. in no previous siege of the byzantine capital was there reference to such a preliminary step. to the newly enlisted, viewing for the first time an enemy bodily present, it seemed like the world being pared down to the smallest dimensions; while their associate veterans, to whom they naturally turned for comfort, admitted an appreciable respect for the sultan. either he had a wise adviser, they said, or he was himself a genius. noon--and still the workmen seemed inexhaustible--still the rampart grew in height--still the hordes out on the campania multiplied, and the horizon line west of the gate st. romain was lost in the increasing smoke of a vast bivouac. nightfall--and still the labor. about midnight, judging by the sounds, the sentinels fancied the enemy approached nearer the walls; and they were not mistaken. with the advent of the second morning, here and there at intervals, ill-defined mounds of earth were seen so much in advance of the intrenched line that, by a general order, a fire of stones and darts was opened upon them; and straightway bodies of bowmen and slingers rushed forward, and returned the fire, seeking to cover the mound builders. this was battle. noon again--and battle. in the evening--battle. the advantage of course was with the besieged. the work on the mounds meanwhile continued, while the campania behind the intrenchment was alive with a creaking of wheels burdened by machinery, and a shouting of ox-drivers; and the veterans on the walls said the enemy was bringing up his balistas and mangonels. the third morning showed the mounds finished, and crowned with mantelets, behind which, in working order and well manned, every sort of engine known in sieges from alexander to the crusaders was in operation. thenceforward, it is to be observed, the battle was by no means one-sided. in this opening there was no heat or furore of combat; it was rather the action of novices trying their machines, or, in modern artillery parlance, finding the range. many minutes often intervened between shots, and as the preliminary object on the part of the besiegers was to destroy the merlons sheltering the warders, did a stone strike either wall near the top, the crash was saluted by cheers. now the foreigners defending were professionals who had graduated in all the arts of town and castle taking. these met the successes of their antagonists with derision. "apprentices," they would say, "nothing but apprentices."... "see those fellows by the big springal there turning the winch the wrong way!" ... "the turbaned sons of satan! have they no eyes? i'll give them a lesson. look!" and if the bolt fell truly, there was loud laughter on the walls. the captains, moreover, were incessantly encouraging the raw men under them. "two walls, and a hundred feet of flooded ditch! there will be merry christmas in the next century before the mahounds get to us at the rate they are coming. shoot leisurely, men--leisurely. an infidel for every bolt!" now on the outer wall, which was the lower of the two, and naturally first to draw the enemy's ire, and then along the inner, the emperor went, indifferent to danger or fatigue, and always with words of cheer. "the stones under our feet are honest," he would say. "the persian came thinking to batter them down, but after many days he fled; and search as we will, no man can lay a finger on the face of one of them, and say, 'here chosroes left a scar.' so amurath, sometimes called murad, this young man's father, wasted months, and the souls of his subjects without count; but when he fled not a coping block had been disturbed in its bed. what has been will be again. god is with us." when the three days were spent, the greeks under arms began to be accustomed to the usage, and make merry of it, like the veterans. the fourth day about noon the emperor, returning from a round of the walls, ascended the bagdad tower mentioned as overlooking the gate st. romain on the right hand; and finding justiniani on the roof, he said to him: "this fighting, if it may be so called, captain, is without heart. but two of our people have been killed; not a stone is shaken. to me it seems the sultan is amusing us while preparing something more serious." "your majesty," the genoese returned, soberly, "now has heaven given you the spirit of a soldier and the eyes as well. old john grant told me within an hour that the yellow flag on the rising ground before us denotes the sultan's quarters in the field, and is not to be confounded with his battle flag. it follows, i think, could we get behind the janissaries dismounted on the further slope of the rise, yet in position to meet a sally, we would discover the royal tent not unwisely pitched, if, as i surmise, this gate is indeed his point of main attack. and besides here are none of the old-time machines as elsewhere along our front; not a catapult, or bricole, or bible--as some, with wicked facetiousness, have named a certain invention for casting huge stones; nor have we yet heard the report of a cannon, or arquebus, or bombard, although we know the enemy has them in numbers. wherefore, keeping in mind the circumstance of his presence here, the omissions satisfy me the sultan relies on his great guns, and that, while amusing us, as your majesty has said, he is mounting them. to-morrow, or perhaps next day, he will open with them, and then"-- "what then?" constantine asked. "the world will have a new lesson in warfare." the emperor's countenance, visible under his raised visor, knit hard. "dear, dear god!" he said, half to himself. "if this old christian empire should be lost through folly of mine, who will there be to forgive me if not thou?" then, seeing the genoese observing him with surprise, he continued: "it is a simple tale, captain.... a dacian, calling himself urban, asked audience of me one day, and being admitted, said he was an artificer of cannon; that he had plied his art in the foundries of germany, and from study of powder was convinced of the practicality of applying it to guns of heavier calibre than any in use. he had discovered a composition of metals, he said, which was his secret, and capable, when properly cast, of an immeasurable strain. would i furnish him the materials, and a place, with appliances for the work such as he would name, i might collect the machines in my arsenal, and burn them or throw them into the sea. i might even level my walls, and in their stead throw up ramparts of common earth, and by mounting his guns upon them secure my capital against the combined powers of the world. he refused to give me details of his processes. i asked him what reward he wanted, and he set it so high i laughed. thinking to sound him further, i kept him in my service a few days; but becoming weary of his importunities, i dismissed him. i next heard of him at adrianople. the sultan mahommed entertained his propositions, built him a foundry, and tried one of his guns, with results the fame of which is a wonder to the whole east. it was the log of bronze count corti saw on the road--now it is here--and heaven sent it to me first." "your majesty," returned the genoese, impressed by the circumstance, and the evident remorse of the emperor, "heaven does not hold us accountable for errors of judgment. there is not a monarch in europe who would have accepted the man's terms, and it remains to be seen if mahommed, as yet but a callow youth, has not been cheated. but look yonder!" as he spoke, the janissaries in front of the gate mounted and rode forward, probably a hundred yards, pursued by a riotous shouting and cracking of whips. presently a train of buffaloes, yoked and tugging laboriously at something almost too heavy for them, appeared on the swell of earth; and there was a driver for every yoke, and every driver whirled a long stick with a longer lash fixed to it, and howled lustily. "it is the great gun," said constantine. "they are putting it in position." justiniani spoke to the men standing by the machines: "make ready bolt and stone." the balistiers took to their wheels eagerly, and discharged a shower of missiles at the janissaries and ox-drivers. "too short, my men--more range." the elevation was increased; still the bolts fell short. "bring forward the guns!" shouted justiniani. the guns were small bell-mouthed barrels of hooped iron, muzzle loading, mounted on high wheels, and each shooting half a dozen balls of lead large as walnuts. they were carefully aimed. the shot whistled and sang viciously. "higher, men!" shouted the genoese, from a merlon. "give the pieces their utmost range." the janissaries replied with a yell. the second volley also failed. then justiniani descended from his perch. "your majesty," he said, "to stop the planting of the gun there is nothing for us but a sally." "we are few, they are many," was the thoughtful reply. "one of us on the wall is worth a score of them in the field. their gun is an experiment. let them try it first." the genoese replied: "your majesty is right." the turks toiled on, backing and shifting their belabored trains, until the monster at last threatened the city with its great black cyclopean eye. "the dacian is not a bad engineer," said the emperor. "see, he is planting other pieces." thus justiniani; for oxen in trains similar to the first one came up tugging mightily, until by mid-afternoon on each flank of the first monster three other glistening yellow logs lay on their carriages in a like dubious quiet, leaving no doubt that st. romain was to be overwhelmed, if the new agencies answered expectations. if there was anxiety here, over the way there was impatience too fierce for control. urban, the dacian, in superintendency of the preparation, was naturally disposed to be careful, so much, in his view, depended on the right placement of the guns; but mahommed, on foot, and whip in hand, was intolerant, and, not scrupling to mix with the workmen, urged them vehemently, now with threats, now with promises of reward. "thy beasts are snails! give me the goad," he cried, snatching one from a driver. then to urban: "bring the powder, and a bullet, for when the sun goes down thou shalt fire the great gun. demur not. by the sword of solomon, there shall be no sleep this night in yon _gabour_ city, least of all in the palace they call blacherne." the dacian brought his experts together. the powder in a bag was rammed home; with the help of a stout slab, a stone ball was next rolled into the muzzle, then pushed nakedly down on the bag. of a truth there was need of measureless strength in the composition of the piece. finally the vent was primed, and a slow-match applied, after which urban reported: "the gun is ready, my lord." "then watch the sun, and--_bismillah!_--at its going down, fire.... aim at the gate--this one before us--and if thou hit it or a tower on either hand, i will make thee a _begler-bey_." the gun-planting continued. finally the sun paused in cloudy splendor ready to carry the day down with it. the sultan, from his tent of many annexes bedouin fashion, walked to where urban and his assistants stood by the carriage of the larger piece. "fire!" he said. urban knelt before him. "will my lord please retire?" "why should i retire?" "there is danger." mahommed smiled haughtily. "is the piece trained on the gate?" "it is; but i pray"-- "now if thou wilt not have me believe thee a dog not less than an unbeliever, rise, and do my bidding." the dacian, without more ado, put the loose end of the slow-match into a pot of live coals near by, and when it began to spit and sputter, he cast it off. his experts fled. only mahommed remained with him; and no feat of daring in battle could have won the young padishah a name for courage comparable to that the thousands looking on from a safe distance now gave him. "will my lord walk with me a little aside? he can then see the ball going." mahommed accepted the suggestion. "look now in a line with the gate, my lord." the match was at last spent. a flash at the vent--a spreading white cloud--a rending of the air--the rattle of wheels obedient to the recoil of the gun--a sound thunder in volume, but with a crackle sharper than any thunder--and we may almost say that, with a new voice, and an additional terror, war underwent a second birth. mahommed's ears endured a wrench, and for a time he heard nothing; but he was too intent following the flight of the ball to mind whether the report of the gun died on the heights of galata or across the bosphorus at scutari. he saw the blackened sphere pass between the towers flanking the gate, and speed on into the city--how far, or with what effect, he could not tell, nor did he care. urban fell on his knees. "mercy, my lord, mercy!" "for what? that thou didst not hit the gate? rise, man, and see if the gun is safe." and when it was so reported, he called to kalil, the vizier, now come up: "give the man a purse, and not a lean one, for, by allah! he is bringing constantinople to me." and despite the ringing in his ears, he went to his tent confident and happy. on the tower meantime constantine and the genoese beheld the smoke leap forth and curtain the gun, and right afterward they heard the huge ball go tearing past them, like an invisible meteor. their eyes pursued the sound--where the missile fell they could not say--they heard a crash, as if a house midway the city had been struck--then they gazed at each other, and crossed themselves. "there is nothing for us now but the sally," said the emperor. "nothing," replied justiniani. "we must disable the guns." "let us go and arrange it." there being no indication of further firing, the two descended from the tower. the plan of sortie agreed upon was not without ingenuity. the gate under the palace of blacherne called _cercoporta_ was to be opened in the night. [footnote: in the basement of the palace of blacherne there was an underground exit, cercoporta or gate of the circus; but isaac comnenus had walled it up in order to avoid the accomplishment of a prediction which announced that the emperor frederick would enter constantinople through it.... but before the siege by mahommed the exit was restored, and it was through it the turks passed into the city.--von hammer, _hist. de l'empire ottoman._] count corti, with the body-guard mounted, was to pass out by it, and surprise the janissaries defending the battery. simultaneously justiniani should sally by the gate st. romain, cross the moat temporarily bridged for the purpose, and, with the footmen composing the force in reserve, throw himself upon the guns. the scheme was faithfully attempted. the count, stealing out of the ancient exit in the uncertain light preceding the dawn, gained a position unobserved, and charged the careless turks. by this time it had become a general report that the net about his neck was a favor of the princess irene, and his battle cry confirmed it--_for god and irene!_ bursting through the half-formed opposition, he passed to the rear of the guns, and planted his banderole at the door of mahommed's tent. had his men held together, he might have returned with a royal prisoner. while attention was thus wholly given the count, justiniani overthrew the guns by demolishing the carriages. a better acquaintance with the operation known to moderns as "spiking a piece," would have enabled him to make the blow irreparable. the loss of janissaries was severe; that of the besieged trifling. the latter, foot and horse, returned by the gate st. romain unpursued. mahommed, aroused by the tumult, threw on his light armor, and rushed out in time to hear the cry of his assailant, and pluck the banderole from its place. at sight of the moon with the cross on its face, his wrath was uncontrollable. the aga in command and all his assistants were relentlessly impaled. there were other sorties in course of the siege, but never another surprise. chapter viii mahommed tries his guns again hardly had the bodies making the sortie retired within the gate when the janissaries on the eminence were trebly strengthened, and the noises in that quarter, the cracking of whips, the shouting of ox-drivers, the hammering betokened a prodigious activity. the besieged, under delusion that the guns had been destroyed, could not understand the enemy. not until the second ensuing morning was the mystery solved. the watchmen on the towers, straining to pierce the early light, then beheld the great bronze monster remounted and gaping at them through an embrasure, and other monsters of a like kind on either side of it, fourteen in all, similarly mounted and defended. the warders on the towers, in high excitement, sent for justiniani, and he in turn despatched a messenger to the emperor. together on the bagdad tower the two discussed the outlook. "your majesty," said the genoese, much chagrined, "the apostate dacian must be master of his art. he has restored the cannon i overthrew." after a time constantine replied: "i fear we have underrated the new sultan. great as a father may be, it is possible for a son to be greater." perceiving the emperor was again repenting the dismissal of urban, the captain held his peace until asked: "what shall we now do?" "your majesty," he returned, "it is apparent our sally was a failure. we slew a number of the infidels, and put their master--may god confound him!--to inconvenience, and nothing more. now he is on guard, we may not repeat our attempt. my judgment is that we let him try his armament upon our walls. they may withstand his utmost effort." the patience this required was not put to a long test. there was a sudden clamor of trumpets, and the janissaries, taking to their saddles, and breaking right and left into divisions, cleared the battery front. immediately a vast volume of smoke hid the whole ground, followed by a series of explosions. some balls passing over the defences ploughed into the city; and as definitions of force, the sounds they made in going were awful; yet they were the least of the terrors. both the towers were hit, and they shook as if an earthquake were wrestling with them. the air whitened with dust and fragments of crushed stone. the men at the machines and culverins cowered to the floor. constantine and the genoese gazed at each other until the latter bethought him, and ordered the fire returned. and it was well done, for there is nothing which shall bring men round from fright like action. then, before there could be an exchange of opinion between the high parties on the tower, a man in half armor issued from the slowly rising cloud, and walked leisurely forward. instead of weapons, he carried an armful of stakes, and something which had the appearance of a heavy gavel. after a careful examination of the ground to the gate, he halted and drove a stake, and from that point commenced zigzagging down the slope, marking each angle. justiniani drew nearer the emperor, and said, in a low voice: "with new agencies come new methods. the assault is deferred." "nay, captain, our enemy must attack; otherwise he cannot make the moat passable." "that, your majesty, was the practice. now he will gain the ditch by a trench." "with what object?" "under cover of the trench, he will fill the ditch." constantine viewed the operation with increased gravity. he could see how feasible it was to dig a covered way under fire of the guns, making the approach and the bombardment simultaneous; and he would have replied, but that instant a mob of laborers--so the spades and picks they bore bespoke them--poured from the embrasure of the larger gun, and, distributing themselves at easy working intervals along the staked line, began throwing up the earth on the side next the city. officers with whips accompanied and stood over them. the engineer--if we may apply the modern term--was at length under fire of the besieged; still he kept on; only when he exhausted his supply of stakes did he retire, leaving it inferrible that the trench was to run through the opening in the cemetery to the bridge way before the gate. at noon, the laborers being well sunk in the ground, the cannon again vomited fire and smoke, and with thunderous reports launched their heavy bullets at the towers. again the ancient piles shook from top to base. some of the balistiers were thrown down. the emperor staggered under the shock. one ball struck a few feet below a merlon of the bagdad, and when the dust blew away, an ugly crack was seen in the exposed face of the wall, extending below the roof. while the inspection of damages immediately ordered is in progress, we take the liberty of transporting the reader elsewhere, that he may see the effect of this amazing warfare on other parties of interest in the tragedy. count corti was with his guard at the foot of the tower when the first discharge of artillery took place. he heard the loud reports and the blows of the shot which failed not their aim; he heard also the sound of the bullets flying on into the city, and being of a quick imagination, shuddered to think of the havoc they might inflict should they fall in a thickly inhabited district. then it came to him that the residence of the princess irene must be exposed to the danger. like a christian and a lover, he, sought to allay the chill he felt by signing the cross repeatedly, and with unction, on brow and breast. the pious performance brought no relief. his dread increased. finally he sent a man with a message informing the emperor that he was gone to see what damage the guns had done in the city. he had not ridden far when he was made aware of the prevalence of an extraordinary excitement. it seemed the entire population had been brought from their houses by the strange thunder, and the appalling flight of meteoric bodies over their roofs. men and women were running about asking each other what had happened. at the corners he was appealed to: "oh, for christ's sake, stop, and tell us if the world is coming to an end!" arid in pity lie answered: "do not be so afraid, good people. it is the turks. they are trying to scare us by making a great noise. go back into your houses." "but the bullets which passed over us. what of them?" "where did they strike?" "on further. god help the sufferers!" one cry he heard so often it made an impression upon him: "the _panagia!_ tell his majesty, as he is a christian, to bring the blessed madonna from the chapel." with each leap of his horse he was now nearing the alighting places of the missiles, and naturally the multiplying signs of terror he observed, together with a growing assurance that the abode of the princess was in the range of danger, quickened his alarm for her. the white faces of the women he met and passed without a word reminded him the more that she was subject to the same peril, and in thought of her he forgot to sympathize with them. in byzantium one might be near a given point yet far away; so did the streets run up and down, and here and there, their eccentricities in width and direction proving how much more accident and whim had to do with them originally than art or science. knowing this, the count was not sparing of his horse, and as his blood heated so did his fancy. if the fair princess were unhurt, it was scarcely possible she had escaped the universal terror. he imagined her the object of tearful attention from her attendants. or perhaps they had run away, and left her in keeping of the tender madonna of blacherne. at last he reached a quarter where the throng of people compelled him to slacken his gait, then halt and dismount. it was but a few doors from the princess'. one house--a frame, two stories--appeared the object of interest. "what has happened?" he asked, addressing a tall man, who stood trembling and praying to a crucifix in his hand. "god protect us, sir knight! see how clear the sky is, but a great stone--some say it was a meteor--struck this house. there is the hole it made. others say it was a bullet from the turks.--save us, o son of mary!" and he fell to kissing the crucifix. "was anybody hurt?" the count asked, shaking the devotee. "yes--two women and a child were killed.--save us, o son of god! thou hast the power from the father." the count picked his way toward the house till he could get no further, so was it blocked by a mass of women on their knees, crying, praying, and in agony of fright. there, sure enough, was a front beaten in, exposing the wrecked interior. but who was the young woman at the door calmly directing some men bringing out the body of one apparently dead? her back was to him, but the sunlight was tangled in her uncovered hair, making gold of it. her figure was tall and slender, and there was a marvellous grace in her action. who was she? the count's heart was prophetic. he gave the bridle rein to a man near by, and holding his sword up, pushed through the kneeling mass. he might have been more considerate in going; but he was in haste, and never paused until at the woman's side. "god's mercy, princess irene!" he cried, "what dost thou here? are there not men to take this charge upon them?" and in his joy at finding her safe, he fell upon his knees, and, without waiting for her to offer the favor, took one of her hands, and carried it to his lips. "nay, count corti, is it not for me to ask what thou dost here?" her face was solemn, and he could hardly determine if the eyes she turned to him were not chiding; yet they were full of humid violet light, and she permitted him to keep the hand while he replied: "the turk is for the time having his own way. we cannot get to him.... i came in haste to--to see what his guns have done--or--why should i not say it? princess, i galloped here fearing thou wert in need of protection and help. i remembered that i was thy accepted knight." she understood him perfectly, and, withdrawing her hand, returned: "rise, count corti, thou art in the way of these bearing the dead." he stood aside, and the men passed him with their burden--a woman drenched in blood. "is this the last one?" she asked them. "we could find no other." "poor creature! ... yet god's will be done! ... bear her to my house, and lay her with the others." then to the count she said: "come with me." the princess set out after the men. immediately the women about raised a loud lamentation; such as were nearest her cried out: "blessings on you!" and they kissed the hem of her gown, and followed her moaning and weeping. the body was borne into the house, and to the chapel, and all who wished went in. before the altar, two others were lying lifeless on improvised biers, an elderly woman and a half-grown girl. the lady in picture above the altar looked down on them, as did the holy child in her arms; and there was much comfort to the spectators in the look. then, when the third victim was decently laid out, sergius began the service for the dead. the count stood by the princess, her attendants in group a little removed from them. in the midst of the holy ministration, a sound like distant rolling thunder penetrated the chapel. every one present knew what it was by this time--knew at least it was not thunder--and they cried out, and clasped each other--from their knees many fell grovelling on the floor. sergius' voice never wavered. corti would have extended his arms to give the princess support; but she did not so much as change color; her hands holding a silver triptych remained firm. the deadly bullets were in the air and might alight on the house; yet her mind was too steadfast, her soul too high, her faith too exalted for alarm; and if the count had been prone to love her for her graces of person, now he was prompted to adore her for her courage. outside near by, there was a crash as of a flying solid smiting another dwelling, and, without perceptible interval, an outcry so shrill and unintermitted it required no explanation. the princess was the first to speak. "proceed, sergius," she said; nor might one familiar with her voice have perceived any alteration in it from the ordinary; then to the count again: "let us go out; there may be others needing my care." at the door corti said: "stay, o princess--a word, i pray." she had only to look at his face to discover he was the subject of a fierce conflict of spirit. "have pity on me, i conjure you. honor and duty call me to the gate; the emperor may be calling me; but how can i go, leaving you in the midst of such peril and horrors?" "what would you have me do?" "fly to a place of safety." "where?" "i will find a place; if not within these walls, then"-- he stopped, and his eyes, bright with passion, fell before hers; for the idea he was about giving his tongue would be a doubly dishonorable coinage, since it included desertion of the beleaguered city, and violation of his compact with mahommed. "and then?" she asked. and love got the better of honor. "i have a ship in the harbor, o princess irene, and a crew devoted to me, and i will place you on its deck, and fly with you. doubt not my making the sea; there are not christians and mohammedans enough to stay me once my anchor is lifted, and my oars out; and on the sea freedom lives, and we will follow the stars to italy, and find a home." again he stopped, his face this time wrung with sudden anguish; then he continued: "god forgive, and deal with me mercifully! i am mad! ... and thou, o princess--do thou forgive me also, and my words and weakness. oh, if not for my sake, then for that which carried me away! or if thou canst not forget, pity me, pity me, and think of the wretchedness now my portion. i had thy respect, if not thy love; now both are lost--gone after my honor. oh! i am most miserable--miserable!" and wringing his hands, he turned his face from her. "count corti," she replied gently, "thou hast saved thyself. let the affair rest here. i forgive the proposal, and shall never remind thee of it. love is madness. return to duty; and for me"--she hesitated--"i hold myself ready for the sacrifice to which i was born. god is fashioning it; in his own time, and in the form he chooses, he will send it to me.... i am not afraid, and be thou not afraid for me. my father was a hero, and he left me his spirit. i too have my duty born within the hour--it is to share the danger of my kinsman's people, to give them my presence, to comfort them all i can. i will show thee what thou seemest not to have credited--that a woman can be brave as any man. i will attend the sick, the wounded, and suffering. to the dying i will carry such consolation as i possess--all of them i can reach--and the dead shall have ministration. my goods and values have long been held for the poor and unfortunate; now to the same service i consecrate myself, my house, my chapel, and altar.... there is my hand in sign of forgiveness, and that i believe thee a true knight. i will go with thee to thy horse." he bowed his head, and silently struggling for composure, carried the hand to his lips. "let us go now," she said. they went out together. another dwelling had been struck; fortunately it was unoccupied. in the saddle, he stayed to say: "thy soul, o princess irene, is angelic as thy face. thou hast devoted thyself to the suffering. am i left out? what word wilt thou give me?" "be the true knight thou art, count corti, and come to me as before." he rode away with a revelation; that in womanly purity and goodness there is a power and inspiration beyond the claims of beauty. the firing continued. seven times that day the turks assailed the gate st. romain with their guns; and while a few of the stones discharged flew amiss into the city, there were enough to still further terrorize the inhabitants. by night all who could had retreated to vaults, cellars, and such hiding-places as were safe, and took up their abodes in them. in the city but one woman went abroad without fear, and she bore bread and medicines, and dressed wounds, and assuaged sorrows, and as a madonna in fact divided worship with the madonna in the chapel up by the high residence. whereat count corti's love grew apace, though the recollection of the near fall he had kept him humble and circumspect. the same day, but after the second discharge of the guns, mahommed entered the part of his tent which, with some freedom, may be termed his office and reception-room, since it was furnished with seats and a large table, the latter set upon a heavily tufted rug, and littered over with maps and writing and drawing materials. notable amongst the litter was the sword of solomon. near it lay a pair of steel gauntlets elegantly gilt. one stout centre-tree, the main support of the roof of camel's hair, appeared gayly dressed with lances, shields, arms, and armor; and against it, strange to say, the companion of a bright red battle-flag, leant the banderole count corti had planted before the door the morning of the sally. a sliding flap overhead, managed by cords in the interior, was drawn up, admitting light and air. the office, it may be added, communicated by gay portieres with four other apartments, each having its separate centre-tree; one occupied by kalil, the vizier; one, a bed-chamber, so to speak; one, a stable for the imperial stud; the fourth belonged to no less a person than our ancient and mysterious acquaintance, the prince of india. mahommed was in half-armor; that is, his neck, arms, and body were in chain mail, the lightest and most flexible of the east, exquisitely gold-washed, and as respects fashion exactly like the suit habitually affected by count corti. his nether limbs were clad in wide trousers of yellow silk, drawn close at the ankles. pointed shoes of red leather completed his equipment, unless we may include a whip with heavy handle and long lash. could constantine have seen him at the moment, he would have recognized the engineer whose performance in tracing the trench he had witnessed with so much interest in the morning. the grand chamberlain received him with the usual prostration, and in that posture waited his pleasure. "bring me water. i am thirsty." the water was brought. "the prince of india now." presently the prince appeared in the costume peculiar to him--a cap and gown of black velvet, loose trousers, and slippers. his hair and beard were longer than when we knew him a denizen of constantinople, making his figure seem more spare and old; otherwise he was unchanged. he too prostrated himself; yet as he sank upon his knees, he gave the sultan a quick glance, intended doubtless to discover his temper more than his purpose. "you may retire." this to the chamberlain. upon the disappearance of the official, mahommed addressed the prince, his countenance flushed, his eyes actually sparkling. "god is great. all things are possible to him. who shall say no when he says yes? who resist when he bids strike? salute me, and rejoice with me, o prince. he is on my side. it was he who spoke in the thunder of my guns. salute me, and rejoice. constantinople is mine! the towers which have outlasted the ages, the walls which have mocked so many conquerors--behold them tottering to their fall! i will make dust of them. the city which has been a stumbling-block to the true faith shall be converted in a night. of the churches i will make mosques. salute me and rejoice! how may a soul contain itself knowing god has chosen it for such mighty things? rise, o prince and rejoice with me!" he caught up the sword of solomon, and in a kind of ecstasy strode about flourishing it. the prince, arisen, replied simply: "i rejoice with my lord;" and folding his arms across his breast, he waited, knowing he had been summoned for something more serious than to witness an outburst so wild--that directly this froth would disappear, as bubbles vanish from wine just poured. the most absolute of men have their ways--this was one of mahommed's. and behind his composed countenance the jew smiled, for, as he read it, the byplay was an acknowledgment of his influence over the chosen of god. and he was right. suddenly mahommed replaced the sword, and standing before him, asked abruptly: "tell me, have the stars fixed the day when i may assault the gabours?" "they have, my lord." "give it to me." the prince returned to his apartment, and came back with a horoscope. "this is their decision, my lord." in his character of messenger of the stars, the prince of india dispensed with every observance implying inferiority. without looking at the signs, or at the planets in their houses; without noticing the calculations accompanying the chart; glancing merely at the date in the central place, mahommed frowned, and said: "the twenty-ninth of may! fifty-three days! by allah and mahomet arid christ--all in one--if by the compound the oath will derive an extra virtue--what is there to consume so much time? in three days i will have the towers lording this gate they call st. romain in the ditch, and the ditch filled. in three days, i say." "perhaps my lord is too sanguine--perhaps he does not sufficiently credit the skill and resources of the enemy behind the gate--perhaps there is more to do than he has admitted into his anticipations." mahommed darted a look at the speaker. "perhaps the stars have been confidential with their messenger, and told him some of the things wanting to be done." "yes, my lord." the calmness of the prince astonished mahommed. "and art thou permitted to be confidential with me?" he asked. "my lord must break up this collection of his guns, and plant some of them against the other gates; say two at the golden gate, one at the caligaria, and before the selimbria and the adrianople two each. he will have seven left.... nor must my lord confine his attack to the landward side; the weakest front of the city is the harbor front, and it must be subjected. he should carry there at least two of his guns." "sword of solomon!" cried mahommed. "will the stars show me a road to possession of the harbor? will they break the chain which defends its entrance? will they sink or burn the enemy's fleet?" "no; those are heroisms left for my lord's endeavor." "thou dost taunt me with the impossible." the prince smiled. "is my lord less able than the crusaders? i know he is not too proud to be taught by them. once, marching upon the holy city, they laid siege to nicea, and after a time discovered they could not master it without first mastering lake ascanius. thereupon they hauled their ships three leagues overland, and launched them in the lake." [footnote: von hammer, _hist. de l'emp. ottoman._] mahommed became thoughtful. "if my lord does not distribute the guns; if he confines his attack to st. romain, the enemy, in the day of assault, can meet him at the breach with his whole garrison. more serious, if the harbor is left to the greeks, how can he prevent the genoese in galata from succoring them? my lord derives information from those treacherous people in the day; does he know of the intercourse between the towns by boats in the night? if they betray one side, will they be true to the other? my lord, they are christians; so are these with whom we are at war." the sultan sank into a seat; and satisfied with the impression he had made, the prince wisely allowed him his thoughts. "it is enough!" said the former, rising. then fixing his eye on his confederate, he asked: "what stars told thee these things, o prince?" "my lord, the firmament above is god's, and the sun and planets there are his mercifully to our common use. but we have each of us a firmament of our own. in mine, reason is the sun, and of its stars i mention two--experience and faith. by the light of the three, i succeed; when i refuse them, one or all, i surrender to chance." mahommed caught up the sword, and played with its ruby handle, turning it at angles to catch its radiations; at length he said: "prince of india, thou hast spoken like a prophet. go call kalil and saganos." chapter ix the madonna to the rescue we have given the opening of the siege of byzantium by mahommed with dangerous minuteness, the danger of course being from the critic. we have posted the warders on their walls, and over against them set the enemy in an intrenched line covering the whole landward side of the city. we have planted mahommed's guns, and exhibited their power, making it a certainty that a breach in the wall must be sooner or later accomplished. we have shown the effect of the fire of the guns, not only on the towers abutting the gate which was the main object of attack, but on the non-combatants, the women and children, in their terror seeking safety in cellars, vaults, and accessible underground retreats. we have carefully assembled and grouped those of our characters who have survived to this trying time; and the reader is informed where they are, the side with which their fortunes are cast, their present relations to each other, and the conditions which environ them. in a word, the reader knows their several fates are upon them, and the favors we now most earnestly pray are to be permitted to pass the daily occurrences of the siege, and advance quickly to the end. even battles can become monotonous in narrative. the sultan, we remark, adopted the suggestions of the prince of india. he distributed his guns, planting some of them in front of the several gates of the city. to control the harbor, he, in modern parlance, erected a battery on a hill by galata; then in a night, he drew a part of his fleet, including a number of his largest vessels, from besich-tasch on the bosphorus over the heights and hollows of pera, a distance of about two leagues, and dropped them in the golden horn. these constantine attacked. justiniani led the enterprise, but was repulsed. a stone bullet sunk his ship, and he barely escaped with his life. most of his companions were drowned; those taken were pitilessly hung. mahommed next collected great earthen jars--their like may yet be seen in the east--and, after making them air-tight, laid a bridge upon them out toward the single wall defending the harbor front. at the further end of this unique approach he placed a large gun; and so destructive was the bombardment thus opened that fire-ships were sent against the bridge and battery. but the genoese of galata betrayed the scheme, and it was baffled. the prisoners captured were hanged in view of the greeks, and in retaliation constantine exposed the heads of a hundred and sixty turks from the wall. on the landward side mahommed was not less fortunate. the zigzag trench was completed, and a footing obtained for his men in the moat, whence they strove to undermine the walls. of the lives lost during these operations no account was taken, since the hordes were the victims. their bodies were left as debris in the roadway so expensively constructed. day after day the towers bagdad and st. romain were more and more reduced. immense sections of them tumbling into the ditch were there utilized. day after day the exchange of bullets, bolts, stones, and arrows was incessant. the shouting in many tongues, heating of drums, and blowing of horns not seldom continued far into the night. the greeks on their side bore up bravely. old john grant plied the assailants with his inextinguishable fire. constantine, in seeming always cheerful, never shirking, visited the walls; at night, he seconded justiniani in hastening needful repairs. finally the steady drain upon the stores in magazine began to tell. provisions became scarce, and the diminution of powder threatened to silence the culverins and arquebuses. then the emperor divided his time between the defences and sancta sophia--between duty as a military commander, and prayer as a christian trustful in god. and it was noticeable that the services at which he assisted in the ancient church were according to latin rites; whereat the malcontents in the monasteries fell into deeper sullenness, and refused the dying the consolation of their presence. gennadius assumed the authority of the absent patriarch, and was influential as a prophet. the powerful brotherhood of the st. james', composed of able-bodied gentry and nobles who should have been militant at the gates, regarded the emperor as under ban. notaras and justiniani quarrelled, and the feud spread to their respective followers. one day, about the time the turkish ships dropped, as it were, from the sky into the harbor, when the store of powder was almost exhausted, and famine menaced the city, five galleys were reported in the offing down the marmora. about the same time the turkish flotilla was observed making ready for action. the hungry people crowded the wall from the seven towers to point serail. the emperor rode thither in haste, while mahommed betook himself to the shore of the sea. a naval battle ensued under the eyes of the two. [footnote: the following is a translation of von hammer's spirited account of this battle: "the th of april, , the turkish fleet, of more than four hundred sails, issued from the bay of phidalia, and directing itself toward the mouth of the bosphorus on the western side, cast anchor near the two villages to-day besich-tasch. a few days afterward five vessels appeared in the marmora, one belonging to the emperor, and four to the genoese. during the month of march they had been unable to issue from scio; but a favorable wind arising, they arrived before constantinople, all their sails unfurled. a division of the turkish fleet, more than a hundred and fifty in number, advanced to bar the passage of the christian squadron and guard the entrance to the harbor. the sky was clear, the sea tranquil, the walls crowded with spectators. the sultan himself was on the shore to enjoy the spectacle of a combat in which the superiority of his fleet seemed to promise him a certain victory. but the eighteen galleys at the head of the division, manned by inexperienced soldiers, and too low at the sides, were instantly covered with arrows, pots of greek fire, and a rain of stones launched by the enemy. they were twice repulsed. the greeks and the genoese emulated each other in zeal. flectanelli, captain of the imperial galley, fought like a lion; cataneo, novarro, balaneri, commanding the genoese, imitated his example. the turkish ships could not row under the arrows with which the water was covered; they fouled each other, and two took fire. at this sight mahommed could not contain himself; as if he would arrest the victory of the greeks, he spurred his horse in the midst of the ships. his officers followed him trying to reach the vessels combating only a stone's throw away. the soldiers, excited by shame or by fear, renewed the attack, but without success, and the five vessels, favored by a rising wind, forced a passage through the opposition, and happily entered the harbor."] the christian squadron made the golden horn, and passed triumphantly behind the chain defending it. they brought supplies of corn and powder. the relief had the appearance of a merciful providence, and forthwith the fighting was renewed with increased ardor. kalil the vizier exhorted mahommed to abandon the siege. "what, retire now? now that the gate st. romain is in ruins and the ditch filled?" the sultan cried in rage. "no, my bones to eyoub, my soul to eblis first. allah sent me here to conquer." those around attributed his firmness, some to religious zeal, some to ambition; none of them suspected how much the compact with count corti had to do with his decision. to the lasting shame of christian europe, the arrival of the five galleys, and the victory they achieved, were all of succor and cheer permitted the heroic emperor. but the unequal struggle wore on, and with each set of sun mahommed's hopes replumed themselves. from much fondling and kissing the sword of solomon, and swearing by it, the steel communicated itself to his will; while on the side of the besieged, failures, dissensions, watching and labor, disparity in numbers, inferiority in arms, the ravages of death, and the neglect of christendom, slowly but surely invited despair. weeks passed thus. april went out; and now it is the twenty-third of may. on the twenty-ninth--six days off--the stars, so we have seen, will permit an assault. and on this day the time is verging midnight. between the sky and the beleaguered town a pall of clouds is hanging thick. at intervals light showers filter through the pall, and the drops fall perpendicularly, for there is no wind. and the earth has its wrap of darkness, only over the seven hills of the old capital it appears to be in double folds oppressively close. darkness and silence and vacancy, which do not require permission to enter by a gate, have possession of the streets and houses; except that now and then a solitary figure, gliding swiftly, turns a corner, pauses to hear, moves on again, and disappears as if it dropped a curtain behind it. desertion is the rule. the hush is awful. where are the people? to find each other friends go from cellar to cellar. there are vaults and arched passages, crypts under churches and lordly habitations, deep, damp, mouldy, and smelling of rotten air, sheltering families. in many districts all life is underground. sociality, because it cannot exist under such conditions save amongst rats and reptiles, ceased some time ago. yet love is not dead--thanks, o heaven, for the divine impulse!--it has merely taken on new modes of expression; it shows itself in tears, never in laughter; it has quit singing, it moans; and what moments mothers are not on their knees praying, they sit crouched, and clasping their little ones, and listen pale with fear and want. listening is the universal habit; and the start and exclamation with which in the day the poor creatures recognize the explosive thunder of mahommed's guns explain the origin of the habit. at this particular hour of the twenty-third of may there are two notable exceptions to the statement that darkness, silence and vacancy have possession of the streets and houses. by a combination of streets most favorable for the purpose, a thoroughfare had come into use along which traffic preferably drove its bulky commodities from st. peter's on the harbor to the gates st. romain and adrianople; its greater distance between terminal points being offset by advantages such as solidity, width and gentler grades. in one of the turns of this very crooked way there is now a murky flush cast by flambeaux sputtering and borne in hand. on either side one may see the fronts of houses without tenants, and in the way itself long lines of men tugging with united effort at some cumbrous body behind them. there is no clamor. the labor is heavy, and the laborers in earnest. some of them wear round steel caps, but the majority are civilians with here and there a monk, the latter by the latin cross at his girdle an _azymite_. now and then the light flashes back from a naked torso streaming with perspiration. one man in armor rides up and down the lines on horseback. he too is in earnest. he speaks low when he has occasion to stop and give a direction, but his face seen in flashes of the light is serious, and knit with purpose. the movement of the lines is slow; at times they come to a dead stand-still. if the halt appears too long the horseman rides back and comes presently to the black hull of a dismantled galley on rollers. the stoppages are to shift the rollers forward. when the shifting is done, he calls out: "make ready, men!" whereupon every one in the lines catches hold of a rope, and at his "now--for love of christ!" there follows a pull with might, and the hull drags on. in these later days of the siege there are two persons actively engaged in the defence who are more wrought upon by the untowardness of the situation than any or all their associates--they are the emperor and count corti. there should be no difficulty in divining the cause of the former's distress. it was too apparent to him that his empire was in desperate straits; that as st. romain underwent its daily reduction so his remnant of state and power declined. and beholding the dissolution was very like being an enforced witness of his own dying. but count corti with the deepening of the danger only exerted himself the more. he seemed everywhere present--now on the ruins of the towers, now in the moat, now foremost in a countermine, and daily his recklessness increased. his feats with bow and sword amazed his friends. he became a terror to the enemy. he never tired. no one knew when he slept. and as note was taken of him, the question was continually on the lip, what possesses the man? he is a foreigner--this is not his home--he has no kindred here--what can be his motive? and there were who said it was christian zeal; others surmised it was soldier habit; others again, that for some reason he was disgusted with life; yet others, themselves of sordid natures, said the emperor affected him, and that he was striving for a great reward in promise. as in the camps of the besiegers none knew the actual reason of mahommed's persistence, so here the secret of the activity which left the count without a peer in performance and daring went without explanation. a few--amongst them the emperor--were aware of the meaning of the red net about the italian's neck--it shone so frequently through the smoke and dust of hourly conflict as to have become a subject of general observation--yet in the common opinion he was only the lady's knight; and his battle cry, _for christ and irene--now!_ did but confirm the opinion. time and time again, mahommed beheld the doughty deeds of his rival, heard his shout, saw the flash of his blade, sometimes near, sometimes afar, but always where the press was thickest. strange was it that of the two hosts he alone understood the other's inspiration? he had only to look into his own heart, and measure the force of the passion there. the horseman we see in charge of the removal of the galley-hulk this night of the twenty-third of may is count corti. it is wanted at st. romain. the gate is a hill of stone and mortar, without form; the moat almost level from side to side; and justiniani has decided upon a barricade behind a new ditch. he will fill the hull with stones, and defend from its deck; and it must be on the ground by break of day. precisely as count corti was bringing the galley around the turn of the thoroughfare, constantine was at the altar in sancta sophia where preparations for mass were making; that is, the priests were changing their vestments, and the acolytes lighting the tall candles. the emperor sat in his chair of state just inside the brass railing, unattended except by his sword-bearer. his hands were on his knees, his head bowed low. he was acknowledging a positive need of prayer. the ruin at the gate was palpable; but god reigned, and might be reserving his power for a miraculous demonstration. the preparation was about finished when, from the entrances of the church opposite the nave, a shuffling of many feet was heard. the light in that quarter was weak, and some moments passed before the emperor perceived a small procession advancing, and arose. the garbs were of orthodox brotherhoods which had been most bitter in their denunciation. none of them had approached the door of the holy house for weeks. the imperial mind was greatly agitated by the sight. were the brethren recanting their unpatriotic resolutions? had heaven at last given them an understanding of the peril of the city? had it brought to them a realization of the consequences if it fell under the yoke of the turk?--that the whole east would then be lost to christendom, with no date for its return? a miracle!--and to god the glory! and without a thought of himself the devoted man walked to the gate of the railing, and opening it, waited to receive the penitents. before him in front of the gate they knelt--in so far they yielded to custom. "brethren," he said, "this high altar has not been honored with your presence for many days. as basileus, i bid you welcome back, and dare urge the welcome in god's holy name. reason instructs me that your return is for a purpose in some manner connected with the unhappy condition in which our city and empire, not to mention our religion, are plunged. rise, one of you, and tell me to what your appearance at this solemn hour is due." a brother in gray, old and stooped, arose, and replied: "your majesty, it cannot be that you are unacquainted with the traditions of ancient origin concerning constantinople and hagia sophia; forgive us, however, if we fear you are not equally well informed of a more recent prophecy, creditably derived, we think, and presume to speak of its terms. 'the infidels'--so the prediction runs--'will enter the city; but the instant they arrive at the column of constantine the great, an angel will descend from heaven, and put a sword in the hands of a man of low estate seated at the foot of the column, and order him to avenge the people of god with it. overcome by sudden terror, the turks will then take to flight, and be driven, not only from the city, but to the frontier of persia.' [footnote: von hammer.] this prediction relieves us, and all who believe in it, from fear of mahommed and his impious hordes, and we are grateful to heaven for the divine intervention. but, your majesty, we think to be forgiven, if we desire the honor of the deliverance to be accounted to the holy mother who has had our fathers in care for so many ages, and redeemed them miraculously in instances within your majesty's knowledge. wherefore to our purpose.... we have been deputed by the brotherhoods in constantinople, united in devotion to the most blessed madonna of blacherne, to pray your permission to take the _panagia_ from the church of the virgin of hodegetria, where it has been since the week of the passover, and intrust it to the pious women of the city. to-morrow at noon, your majesty consenting, they will assemble at the acropolis, and with the banner at their head, go in procession along the walls and to every threatened gate, never doubting that at the sight of it the sultan and his unbaptized hordes will be reft of breath of body or take to flight.... this we pray of your majesty, that the mother of god may in these degenerate days have back the honor and worship accorded her by the emperors and greeks of former times." the old man ceased, and again fell upon his knees, while his associate deputies rang the space with loud _amens_. it was well the light was dim, and the emperor's face in shadow; it was well the posture of the petitioners helped hide him from close study; a feeling mixed of pity, contempt, and unutterable indignation seized him, distorting his features, and shaking his whole person. recantation and repentance!--pledge of loyalty!--offer of service at the gates and on the shattered walls!--heaven help him! there was no word of apology for their errors and remissness--not a syllable in acknowledgment of his labors and services--and he about to pray god for strength to die if the need were, as became the emperor of a brave and noble people! an instant he stood gazing at them--an instant of grief, shame, mortification, indignation, all heightened by a burning sense of personal wrong. ay, god help him! "bear with me a little," he said quietly, and passing the waiting priests, went and knelt upon a step of the altar in position to lay his head upon the upper step. minutes passed thus. the deputies supposed him praying for the success of the morrow's display; he was in fact praying for self-possession to answer them as his judgment of policy demanded. at length he arose, and returned to them, and had calmness to say: "arise, brethren, and go in peace. the keeper of the church will deliver the sacred banner to the pious women. only i insist upon a condition; if any of them are slain by the enemy, whom you and they know to have been bred in denial of womanly virtue, scorning their own mothers and wives, and making merchandise of their daughters--if any of them be slain, i say, then you shall bear witness to those who sent you to me that i am innocent of the blood-guilt. arise, and go in peace." they marched out of the church as they had come in, and he proceeded with the service. next day about ten o'clock in the morning there was a lull in the fighting at the gate st. romain. it were probably better to say the turks for some reason rested from their work of bringing stones, tree-trunks, earth in hand carts, and timbers wrenched from houses--everything, in fact, which would serve to substantially fill the moat in that quarter. then upon the highest heap of what had been the tower of bagdad count corti appeared, a black shield on his arm, his bow in one hand, his banderole in the other. "have a care, have a care!" his friends halloed. "they are about firing the great gun." corti seemed not to hear, but deliberately planted the banderole, and blowing his trumpet three times, drew an arrow from the quiver at his back. the gun was discharged, the bullet striking below him. when the dust cleared away, he replied with his trumpet. then the turks, keeping their distance, set up a cry. most of the arrows shot at him fell short. seeing their indisposition to accept his challenge, he took seat upon a stone. not long then until a horseman rode out from the line of janissaries still guarding the eminence, and advanced down the left of the zigzag galloping. he was in chain mail glistening like gold, but wore flowing yellow trousers, while his feet were buried in shoe-stirrups of the royal metal. looking over the small round black shield on his left arm, and holding a bow in the right hand, easy in the saddle, calm, confident, the champion slackened speed when within arrow flight, but commenced caracoling immediately. a prolonged hoarse cry arose behind him. of the christians, the count alone recognized the salute of the janissaries, still an utterance amongst turkish soldiers, in literal translation: _the padishah! live the padishah!_ the warrior was mahommed himself! arising, the count placed an arrow at the string, and shouted, "_for christ and irene--now!_" with the last word, he loosed the shaft. catching the missile lightly on his shield, mahommed shouted back: "_allah-il-allah!_" and sent a shaft in return. the exchange continued some minutes. in truth, the count was not a little proud of the enemy's performance. if there was any weakness on his part, if his clutch of the notch at the instant of drawing the string was a trifle light, the fault was chargeable to a passing memory. this antagonist had been his pupil. how often in the school field, practising with blunted arrows, the two had joyously mimicked the encounter they were now holding. at last a bolt, clanging dully, dropped from the sultan's shield, and observing that it was black feathered, he swung from his seat to the ground, and, shifting the horse between him and the foe, secured the missile, and remounted. _"allah-il-allah!"_ he cried, slowly backing the charger out of range. the count repeated the challenge through his trumpet, and sat upon the stone again; but no other antagonist showing himself, he at length descended from the heap. in his tent mahommed examined the bolt; and finding the head was of lead, he cut it open, and extracted a scrip inscribed thus: "to-day at noon a procession of women will appear on the walls. you may know it by the white banner a monk will bear, with a picture of the madonna painted on it. _the princess irene marches next after the banner._" mahommed asked for the time. it was half after ten o'clock. in a few minutes the door was thronged by mounted officers, who, upon receiving a verbal message from him, sped away fast as they could go. thereupon the conflict was reopened. indeed, it raged more fiercely than at any previous time, the slingers and bowmen being pushed up to the outer edge of the moat, and the machines of every kind plied over their heads. in his ignorance of the miracle expected of the lady of the banner, mahommed had a hope of deterring the extraordinary march. nevertheless at the appointed hour, ten o'clock, the church of the virgin of hodegetria was surrounded by nuns and monks; and presently the choir of sancta sophia issued from the house, executing a solemn chant; the emperor followed in basilean vestments; then the _panagia_ appeared. at sight of the picture of the very holy virgin painted front view, the eyes upraised, the hands in posture of prayer, the breast covered by a portrait of the child, the heads encircled by the usual nimbus, the mass knelt, uttering cries of adoration. the princess irene, lightly veiled and attired in black, advanced, and, kissing the fringed corners of the hallowed relic, gathered the white staying ribbons in her hands; thereupon the monk appointed to carry it moved after the choir, and the nuns took places. and there were tears and sighs, but not of fear. the mother of god would now assume the deliverance of her beloved capital. as it had been to the avars, and later to the russians under askold and dir, it would be now to mahommed and his ferocious hordes--all heaven would arm to punish them. they would not dare look at the picture twice, or if they did--well, there are many modes of death, and it will be for the dear mother to choose. thus the women argued. possibly a perception of the failure in the defence, sharpened by a consciousness of the horrors in store for them if the city fell by assault, turned them to this. there is no relief from despair like faith. from the little church, the devotees of the very holy virgin took their way on foot to the southeast, chanting as they went, and as they went their number grew. whence the accessions, none inquired. they first reached a flight of steps leading to the banquette or footway along the wall near the golden gate. the noise of the conflict, the shouting and roar of an uncounted multitude of men in the heat and fury of combat, not to more than mention the evidences of the conflict--arrows, bolts, and stones in overflight and falling in remittent showers--would have dispersed them in ordinary mood; but they were under protection--the madonna was leading them--to be afraid was to deny her saving grace. and then there was no shrinking on the part of the princess irene. even as she took time and song from the choir, they borrowed of her trust. at the foot of the steps the singers turned aside to allow the _panagia_ to go first. the moment of miracle was come! what form would the manifestation take? perhaps the doors and windows of heaven would open for a rain of fire--perhaps the fighting angels who keep the throne of the father would appear with swords of lightning--perhaps the mother and son would show themselves. had they not spared and converted the khagan of the avars? whatever the form, it were not becoming to stand between the _panagia_ and the enemy. the holy man carrying the ensign was trustful as the women, and he ascended the steps without faltering. gathering the ribbons a little more firmly in her hands, the princess kept her place. up--up they were borne--mother and son. then the white banner was on the height--seen first by the greeks keeping the wall, and in the places it discovered them, they fell upon their faces, next by the hordes. and they--oh, a miracle, a miracle truly!--they stood still. the bowman drawing his bow, the slinger whirling his sling, the arquebusers taking aim matches in hand, the strong men at the winches of the mangonels, all stopped--an arresting hand fell on them--they might have been changed to pillars of stone, so motionlessly did they stand and look at the white apparition. _kyrie eleison_, thrice repeated, then _christie eleison_, also thrice repeated, descended to them in the voices of women, shrilled by excitement. and the banner moved along the wall, not swiftly as if terror had to do with its passing, but slowly, the image turned outwardly, the princess next it, the ribbons in her hands; after her the choir in full chant; and then the long array of women in ecstasy of faith and triumph; for before they were all ascended, the hordes at the edge of the moat, and those at a distance--or rather such of them as death or wounds would permit--were retreating to their entrenchment. nor that merely--the arrest which had fallen at the golden gate extended along the front of leaguerment from the sea to blacherne, from blacherne to the acropolis. so it happened that in advance of the display of the picture, without waiting for the _kyrie eleison_ of the glad procession, the turks took to their defences; and through the city, from cellar, and vault, and crypt, and darkened passage, the wonderful story flew; and there being none to gainsay or explain it, the miracle was accepted, and the streets actually showed signs of a quick return to their old life. even the very timid took heart, and went about thanking god and the _panagia blachernitissa_. and here and there the monks passed, sleek and blithe, and complacently twirling the greek crosses at the whip-ends of their rosaries of polished horn buttons large as walnuts, saying: "the danger is gone. see what it is to have faith! had we kept on trusting the _azymites_, whether roman cardinal or apostate emperor, a muezzin would ere long, perhaps to-morrow, be calling to prayer from the dome of hagia sophia. blessed be the _panagia!_ to-night let us sleep; and then--then we will dismiss the mercenaries with their latin tongues." but there will be skeptics to the last hour of the last day; so is the world made of kinds of men. constantine and justiniani did not disarm or lay aside their care. in unpatriotic distrust, they kept post behind the ruins of st. romain, and saw to it that the labor of planting the hull of the galley for a new wall, strengthened with another ditch of dangerous depth and width, was continued. and they were wise; for about four o'clock in the afternoon, there was a blowing of horns on the parapet by the monster gun, and five heralds in tunics stiff with gold embroidery, and trousers to correspond--splendid fellows, under turbans like balloons, each with a trumpet of shining silver--set out for the gate, preceding a stately unarmed official. the heralds halted now and then to execute a flourish. constantine, recognizing an envoy, sent justiniani and count corti to meet him beyond the moat, and they returned with the sultan's formal demand for the surrender of the city. the message was threatening and imperious. the emperor replied offering to pay tribute. mahommed rejected the proposal, and announced an assault. the retirement of the hordes at sight of the _panagia_ on the wall was by mahommed's order. his wilfulness extended to his love--he did not intend the princess irene should suffer harm. chapter x the night before the assault the artillery of mahommed had been effective, though not to the same degree, elsewhere than at st. romain. jerome the italian and leonardo di langasco the genoese, defending the port of blacherne in the lowland, had not been able to save the xiloporta or wood gate on the harbor front harmless; under pounding of the floating battery it lay in the dust, like a battered helmet. john grant and theodore de carystos looked at the green hills of eyoub in front of the gate caligaria or charsias, assigned to them, through fissures and tumbles-down which made their hearts sore. the bochiardi brothers, paul and antonin, had fared no better in their defence of the gate adrianople. at the gate selimbria, theophilus palaeologus kept the imperial flag flying, but the outer faces of the towers there were in the ditch serving the uses of the enemy. contarino the venetian, on the roof of the golden gate, was separated from the wall reaching northward to selimbria by a breach wide enough to admit a chariot. gabriel trevisan, with his noble four hundred venetians, kept good his grip on the harbor wall from the acropolis to the gate of st. peter's. through the incapacity or treason of duke notaras, the upper portion of the golden horn was entirely lost to the christians. from the seven towers to galata the ottoman fleet held the wall facing the marmora as a net of close meshes holds the space of water it is to drag. in a word, the hour for assault had arrived, and from the twenty-fourth to evening of the twenty-eighth of may mahommed diligently prepared for the event. the attack he reduced to a bombardment barely sufficient to deter the besiegers from systematic repairs. the reports of his guns were but occasionally heard. at no time, however, was the energy of the man more conspicuous. previously his orders to chief officers in command along the line had been despatched to them; now he bade them to personal attendance; and, as may be fancied, the scene at his tent was orientally picturesque from sunrise to sunset. such an abounding of moslem princes and princes not moslem, of pachas, and beys, and governors of castles, of sheiks, and captains of hordes without titles; such a medley of costumes, and armor, and strange ensigns; such a forest of tall shafts flying red horse-tails; such a herding of caparisoned steeds; such a company of trumpeters and heralds--had seldom if ever been seen. it seemed the east from the euphrates and red sea to the caspian, and the west far as the iron gates of the danube, were there in warlike presence. yet for the most part these selected lions of tribes kept in separate groups and regarded each other askance, having feuds and jealousies amongst themselves; and there was reason for their good behavior--around them, under arms, were fifteen thousand watchful janissaries, the flower of the sultan's host, of whom an old chronicler has said, each one is a giant in stature, and the equal of ten ordinary men. throughout those four days but one man had place always at mahommed's back, his confidant and adviser--not kalil, it is to be remarked, or saganos, or the mollah kourani, or akschem-sed-din the dervish. "my lord," the prince of india had argued when the sultan resolved to summon his vassal chiefs to personal conference, "all men love splendor; pleasing the eye is an inducement to the intelligent; exciting the astonishment of the vulgar disposes them to submit to superiority in another without wounding their vanity. the rajahs in my country practise this philosophy with a thorough understanding. having frequently to hold council with their officials, into the tent or hall of ceremony they bring their utmost riches. the lesson is open to my lord." so when his leaders of men were ushered into the audience, the interior of mahommed's tent was extravagantly furnished, and their prostrations were at the step of a throne. nevertheless in consenting to the suggestion, the sultan had insisted upon a condition. "they shall not mistake me for something else than a warrior--a politician or a diplomatist, for instance--or think the heaviest blow i can deal is with the tongue or a pen. art thou hearing, prince?" "i hear, my lord." "so, by the tomb of the prophet--may his name be exalted!--my household, viziers and all, shall stand at my left; but here on my right i will have my horse in panoply; and he shall bear my mace and champ his golden bit, and be ready to tread on such of the beggars as behave unseemly." and over the blue and yellow silken rugs of khorassan, with which the space at the right of the throne was spread, the horse, bitted and house led, had free range, an impressive reminder of the master's business of life. as they were christians or moslems, mahommed addressed the vassals honored by his summons, and admitted separately to his presence; for the same arguments might not be pleasing to both. "i give you trust," he would say to the christian, "and look for brave and loyal service from you.... i shall be present with you, and as an eyewitness judge of your valor, and never had men such incentives. the wealth of ages is in the walls before us, and it shall be yours--money, jewels, goods and people--all yours as you can lay hands on it. i reserve only the houses and churches. are you poor, you may go away rich; if rich, you may be richer; for what you get will be honorable earnings of your right hand of which none shall dispossess you--and to that treaty i swear.... rise now, and put your men in readiness. the stars have promised me this city, and their promises are as the breath of the god we both adore." very different in style and matter were his utterances to a moslem. "what is that hanging from thy belt?" "it is a sword, my lord." "god is god, and there is no other god--_amin!_ and he it was who planted iron in the earth, and showed the miner where it was hid, and taught the armorer to give it form, and harden it, even the blade at thy belt; for god had need of an instrument for the punishment of those who say 'god hath partners.' ... and who are they that say 'god hath partners--a son and his mother'? here have they their stronghold; and here have we been brought to make roads through its walls, and turn their palaces of unbelief into harems. for that thou hast thy sword, and i mine--_amin!_... it is the will of god that we despoil these _gabours_ of their wealth and their women; for are they not of those of whom it is said: 'in their hearts is a disease, and god hath increased their disease, and for them is ordained a painful punishment, because they have charged the prophet of god with falsehood'? that they who escape the sharpness of our swords shall be as beggars, and slaves, and homeless wanderers--such is the punishment, and it is the judgment of god--_amin!_ ... that they shall leave all they have behind them--so also hath god willed, and i say it shall be. i swear it. and that they leave behind them is for us who were appointed from the beginning of the world to take it; that also god wills, and i say it shall be. i swear it. _amin!_ ... what if the way be perilous, as i grant it is? is it not written: 'a soul cannot die except by permission of god, according to a writing of god, definite as to time'? and if a man die, is it not also written: 'repute not those slain in god's cause to be dead; nay, alive with god, they are provided for'? they are people of the 'right hand,' of whom it is written: 'they shall be brought nigh god in the gardens of delight, upon inwrought couches reclining face to face. youths ever young shall go unto them round about with goblets and ewers, and a cup of flowing wine; and fruits of the sort which they shall choose, and the flesh of birds of the kind which they shall desire, and damsels with eyes like pearls laid up, we will give them as a reward for that which they have done.' ... but the appointed time is not yet for all of us--nay, it is for the fewest--_amin!_ ... and when the will of god is done, then for such as live, lo! over the walls yonder are gold refined and coined, and gold in vessels, and damsels on silken couches, their cheeks like roses of damascus, their arms whiter and cooler than lilies, and as pearls laid up are their eyes, and their bodies sweeter than musk on the wings of the south wind in a grove of palms. with the gold we can make gardens of delight; and the damsels set down in the gardens, ours the fault if the promise be not made good as it was spoken by the prophet--'paradise shall be brought near unto the pious, to a place not distant from them, so they shall see it!' ... being of those who shall 'receive their books in the right hand,' more need not be said unto you. i only reserve for myself the houses when you have despoiled them, and the churches. make ready yourself and your people, and tell them faithfully what i say, and swear to. i will come to you with final orders. arise!" [footnote: for the quotations in this speech, see _selections from the koran_, by edward william lane.] from sunrise to sunset of the twenty-seventh mahommed was in the saddle going with the retinue of a conqueror from chief to chief. from each he drew a detachment to be held in reserve. one hundred thousand men were thus detached. "see to it," he said finally, "that you direct your main effort against the gate in front of you.... put the wild men in the advance. the dead will be useful in the ditch.... have the ladders at hand.... at the sound of my trumpets, charge.... proclaim for me that he who is first upon the walls shall have choice of a province. i will make him governor. god is god. i am his servant, ordering as he has ordered." on the twenty-eighth, he sent all the dervishes in camp to preach to the moslems in arms; and of such effect were their promises of pillage and paradise that after the hour of the fifth prayer, the multitude, in all quite two hundred and fifty thousand, abandoned themselves to transports of fanaticism. of their huts and booths they made heaps, and at night set fire to them; and the tents of the pachas and great officers being illuminated, and the ships perfecting the blockade dressed in lights, the entrenchment from blacherne to the seven towers, and the sea thence to the acropolis, were in a continued brilliance reaching up to the sky. even the campania was invaded by the dazzlement of countless bonfires. and from the walls the besieged, if they looked, beheld the antics of the hordes; if they listened, they heard the noise, in the distance, a prolonged, inarticulate, irregular clamor of voices, near by, a confusion of songs and cries. at times the bray of trumpets and the roll of drums great and small shook the air, and smothered every rival sound. and where the dervishes came, in their passage from group to group, the excitement arose out of bounds, while their dancing lent diablerie to the scene. assuredly there was enough in what they beheld to sink the spirit of the besieged, even the boldest of them. the cry _allah-il-allah_ shouted from the moat was trifling in comparison with what they might have overheard around the bonfires. "why do you burn your huts?" asked a prudent officer of his men. "because we will not need them more. the city is for us to-morrow. the padishah has promised and sworn." "did he swear it?" "ay, by the bones of the three in the tomb of the prophet." at another fire, the following: "yes, i have chosen my palace already. it is on the hill over there in the west." and again: "tell us, o son of mousa, when we are in the town what will you look for?" "the things i most want." "well, what things?" "may the jinn fill thy stomach with green figs for such a question of my mother's son! what things? two horses out of the emperor's stable. and thou--what wilt thou put thy hand to first?" "oh, i have not made up my mind! i am thinking of a load of gold for my camel--enough to take my father and his three wives to mecca, and buy water for them from the zem-zem. praised be allah!" "bah! gold will be cheap." "yes, as bezants; but i have heard of a bucket the unbelieving greeks use at times for mixing wine and bread in. it is when they eat the body of their god. they say the bucket is so big it takes six fat priests to lift it." "it is too big. i'll gather the bezants." "well," said a third, with a loud moslem oath, "keep to your gold, whether in pots or coin. for me--for me"-- "ha, ha!--he don't know." "don't i? thou grinning son of a hindoo ape." "what is it, then?" "the thing which is first in thy mind." "name it." "a string of women." "old or young?" "an _hoo-rey-yeh_ is never old." "what judgment!" sneered the other. "i will take some of the old ones as well." "what for?" "for slaves to wait on the young. was it not said by a wise man, 'sweet water in the jar is not more precious than peace in the family'?" undoubtedly the evil genius of byzantium in this peril was the prince of india. "my lord," he had said, cynically, "of a truth a man brave in the day can be turned into a quaking coward at night; you have but to present him a danger substantial enough to quicken his imagination. these greeks have withstood you stoutly; try them now with your power a vision of darkness." "how, prince?" "in view and hearing from the walls let the hordes kindle fires to-night. multiply the fires, if need be, and keep the thousands in motion about them, making a spectacle such as this generation has not seen; then"-- the singular man stopped to laugh. mahommed gazed at him in silent wonder. "then," he continued, "so will distorted fancy do its work, that by midnight the city will be on its knees praying to the mother of god, and every armed man on the walls who has a wife or daughter will think he hears himself called to for protection. try it, my lord, and thou mayst whack my flesh into ribbons if by dawn the general fear have not left but a half task for thy sword." it was as the jew said. attracted by the illumination in the sky, suggestive of something vast and terrible going on outside the walls, and still full of faith in a miraculous deliverance, thousands hastened to see the mercy. what an awakening was in store for them! enemies seemed to have arisen out of the earth--devils, not men. the world to the horizon's rim appeared oppressed with them. nor was it possible to misapprehend the meaning of what they beheld. "to-morrow--to-morrow"--they whispered to each other--"god keep us!" and pouring back into the streets, they became each a preacher of despair. yet--marvelous to say--the monks sallied from their cells with words of cheer. "have faith," they said. "see, we are not afraid. the blessed mother has not deserted her children. believe in her. she is resolved to allow the _azymite_ emperor to exhaust his vanity that in the last hour he and his latin myrmidons may not deny her the merit of the salvation. compose yourselves, and fear not. the angel will find the poor man at the column of constantine." the ordinary soul beset with fears, and sinking into hopelessness, is always ready to accept a promise of rest. the people listened to the priestly soothsayers. nay, the too comforting assurance made its way to the defenders at the gates, and hundreds of them deserted their posts; leaving the enemy to creep in from the moat, and, with hooks on long poles, actually pull down some of the new defences. it scarcely requires telling how these complications added weight to the cares with which the emperor was already overladen. through the afternoon he sat by the open window of a room above the cercoporta, or sunken gate under the southern face of his high residence, [footnote: this room is still to be seen. the writer once visited it. arriving near, his turkish _cavass_ requested him to wait a moment. the man then advanced alone and cautiously, and knocked at the door. there was a conference, and a little delay; after which the _cavass_ announced it was safe to go in. the mystery was revealed upon entering. a half dozen steaming tubs were scattered over the paved floor, and by each of them stood a scantily attired woman with a dirty _yashmak_ covering her face. the chamber which should have been very sacred if only because there the last of the byzantine emperors composedly resigned himself to the inevitable, had become a filthy den devoted to one of the most ignoble of uses. the shame is, of course, to the greeks of constantinople.] watching the movements of the turks. the subtle prophet which sometimes mercifully goes before death had discharged its office with him. he had dismissed his last hope. beyond peradventure the hardest task to one pondering his fate uprisen and standing before him with all its attending circumstances, is to make peace with himself; which is simply viewing the attractions of this life as birds of plumage in a golden cage, and deliberately opening the door, and letting them loose, knowing they can never return. this the purest and noblest of the imperial greeks--the evil times in which his race as a ruler was run prevent us from terming him the greatest--had done. he was in armor, and his sword rested against the cheek of a window. his faithful attendants came in occasionally, and spoke to him in low tones; but for the most part he was alone. the view of the enemy was fair. he could see their intrenchment, and the tents and ruder quarters behind it. he could see the standards, many of them without meaning to him, the detachments on duty and watchful, the horsemen coming and going, and now and then a column in movement. he could hear the shouting, and he knew the meaning of it all--the final tempest was gathering. about four o'clock in the afternoon, phranza entered the room, and going to his master's right hand, was in the act of prostrating himself. "no, my lord," said the emperor, reaching out to stay him, and smiling pleasantly, "let us have done with ceremony. thou hast been true servant to me--i testify it, god hearing--and now i promote thee. be as my other self. speak to me standing. to-morrow is my end of days. in death no man is greater than another. tell me what thou bringest." on his knees, the grand chamberlain took the steel-gloved hand nearest him, and carried it to his lips. "your majesty, no servant had ever a more considerate and loving master." an oppressive silence followed. they were both thinking the same thought, and it was too sad for speech. "the duty your majesty charged me with this morning "--thus phranza upon recovery of his composure--"i attended to." "and you found it?" "even as your majesty had warning. the hegumens of the brotherhoods"-- "all of them, o phranza?" "all of them, your majesty--assembled in a cloister of the pantocrator." "gennadius again!" the emperor's hands closed, and there was an impatient twitching of his lips. "though why should i be astonished? hark, my friend! i will tell thee what i have as yet spoken to no man else. thou knowest kalil the vizier has been these many years my tributary, and that he hath done me many kindly acts, not always in his master's interest. the night of the day our christian ships beat the turks the grand vizier sent me an account of a stormy scene in mahommed's tent, and advised me to beware of gennadius. ah, i had fancied myself prepared to drink the cup heaven hath in store for me, lees and all, without a murmur, but men will be men until their second birth. it is nature! ... oh, my phranza, what thinkest thou the false monk is carrying under his hood?" "some egg of treason, i doubt not." "having driven his serenity, the pious and venerable gregory, into exile, he aspires to succeed him." "the hypocrite!--the impostor!--the perjured!--he, patriarch!" cried phranza, with upraised eyes. "and from whose hands thinkest thou he dreams of deriving the honor?" "not your majesty's." the emperor smiled faintly. "no--he regards mahommed the sultan a better patron, if not a better christian." "forbid it heaven!" and phranza crossed himself repeatedly. "nay, good friend, hear his scheme, then thou mayst call the forbidding powers with undeniable reason....he undertook--so kalil privily declared--if mahommed would invest him with the patriarchate, to deliver constantinople to him." "by what means? he has no gate in keeping--he is not even a soldier." "my poor phranza! hast thou yet to learn that perfidy is not a trait of any class? this gowned traitor hath a key to all the gates. hear him--i will ply the superstition of the greeks, and draw them from the walls with a prophecy." phranza was able to cry out: "oh! that so brave a prince, so good a master should be at the mercy of--of such a"-- "with all thy learning, i see thou lackest a word. let it pass, let it pass--i understand thee....but what further hast thou from the meeting?" phranza caught the hand again, and laid his forehead upon it while he replied: "to-night the brotherhoods are to go out, and renew the story of the angel, and the man at the foot of the column of constantine." the calmness of the emperor was wonderful. he gazed at the turks through the window, and, after reflection, said tranquilly: "i would have saved it--this old empire of our fathers; but my utmost now is to die for it--ay, as if i were blind to its unworthiness. god's will be done, not mine!" "talk not of dying--o beloved lord and master, talk not so! it is not too late for composition. give me your terms, and i will go with them to"-- "nay, friend, i have done better--i have made peace with myself.... i shall be no man's slave. there is nothing more for me--nothing except an honorable death. how sweet a grace it is that we can put so much glory in dying! a day of greek regeneration may come--then there may be some to do me honor--some to find worthy lessons in my life--perchance another emperor of byzantium to remember how the last of the palaeologae accepted the will of god revealed to him in treachery and treason.... but there is one at the door knocking as he were in haste. let him enter." an officer of the guard was admitted. "your majesty," he said, after salutation, "the captain justiniani, and the genoese, his friends, are preparing to abandon the gates." constantine seized his sword, and arose. "tell me about it," he said, simply. "justiniani has the new ditch at st. romain nearly completed, and wanting some cannon, he made request for them of the high admiral, who refused, saying, 'the foreign cowards must take care of themselves.'" "ride, sir, to the noble captain, and tell him i am at thy heels." "is the duke mad?" constantine continued, the messenger having departed. "what can he want? he is rich, and hath a family--boys verging on manhood, and of excellent promise. ah, my dear friend in need, what canst thou see of gain for him from mahommed?" "life, your majesty--life, and greater riches." "how? i did not suppose thou thoughtest so ill of men." "of some--of some--not all." then phranza raised his head, and asked, bitterly: "if five galleys won the harbor, every moslem sail opposing, why could not twelve or more do better? does not mahommed draw his supplies by sea?" the emperor looked out of the window again, but not at the turks. "lord phranza," he said, presently, "thou mayst survive to-morrow's calamity; if so, being as thou art skilful with the pen, write of me in thy day of leisure two things; first, i dared not break with duke notaras while mahommed was striving for my gates--he could and would have seized my throne--the church, the brotherhoods, and the people are with him--i am an _azymite._ say of me next that i have always held the decree of union proclaimed by the council of florence binding upon greek conscience, and had i lived, god helping me roll back this flood of islam, it should have been enforced.... hither--look hither, lord phranza"--he pointed out of the window--"and thou wilt see an argument of as many divisions as there are infidels beleaguering us why the church of christ should have one head; and as to whether the head should be patriarch or bishop, is it not enough that we are perishing for want of western swords?"--he would have fallen into silence again, but roused himself: "so much for the place i would have in the world's memory.... but to the present affair. reparation is due justiniani and his associates. do thou prepare a repast in the great dining hall. our resources are so reduced i may not speak of it as a banquet; but as thou lovest me do thy best with what we have. for my part, i will ride and summon every noble greek in arms for church and state, and the foreign captains. in such cheer, perhaps, we can heal the wounds inflicted by notaras. we can at least make ready to die with grace." he went out, and taking horse, rode at speed to the gate st. romain, and succeeded in soothing the offended genoese. at ten o'clock the banquet was held. the chroniclers say of it that there were speeches, embraces, and a fresh resolution to fight, and endure the worst or conquer. and they chose a battle-cry--_christ and holy church._ at separating, the emperor, with infinite tenderness, but never more knightly, prayed forgiveness of any he might have wronged or affronted; and the guests came one by one to bid him adieu, and he commended them to god, and the gratitude of christians in the ages to come, and his hands were drenched with their tears. from the very high residence he visited the gates, and was partially successful in arresting the desertions actually in progress. finally, all other duties done, his mind turning once more to god, he rode to sancta sophia, heard mass, partook of the communion, and received absolution according to latin rite; after which the morrow could hold no surprise for him. and he found comfort repeating his own word: how sweet a grace it is that we can put so much glory in dying. chapter xi count corti in dilemma from the repast at blacherne--festive it was in no sense--count corti escorted the emperor to the door of sancta sophia; whence, by permission, and taking with him his nine berbers, he rode slowly to the residence of the princess irene. slowly, we say, for nowhere in the pent area of byzantium was there a soul more oppressed. if he looked up, it was to fancy all the fortunate planets seated in their houses helping mahommed's star to a fullest flood of splendor; if he looked down, it was to see the wager--and his soul cried out, lost! lost! though one be rich, or great, or superior in his calling, wherein is the profit of it if he have lost his love? besides the anguish of a perception of his rival's better fortune, the count was bowed by the necessity of deciding certain consequences unforeseen at the time the wager was made. the place of the surrender of the princess was fixed. thinking forward now, he could anticipate the scene in the great church--the pack of fugitives, their terror and despair, the hordes raging amongst them. how was he single-handed to save her unharmed in the scramble of the hour? thoughts of her youth, beauty, and rank, theretofore inspirations out of heaven, set him to shivering with an ague more like fear than any he had ever known. nor was this all. the surrender was by the terms to be to mahommed himself. the sultan was to demand her of him. he groaned aloud: "oh, dear god and holy mother, be merciful, and let me die!" for the first time it was given him to see, not alone that he might lose the woman to his soul all the sun is to the world, but her respect as well. by what management was he to make the surrender without exposing the understanding between the conqueror and himself? she would be present--she would see what took place--she would hear what was said. and she would not be frightened. the image of the madonna above the altar in the nave would not be more calm. the vaguest suspicion of a compact, and she the subject, would put her upon inquiry; then--"oh, fool--idiot--insensate as my sword-grip!" thus, between groans, he scourged himself. it was late, but her home was now a hospital filled with wounded men, and she its sleepless angel. old lysander admitted him. "the princess irene is in the chapel." thus directed, the count went thither well knowing the way. a soldier just dead was the theme of a solemn recital by sergius. the room was crowded with women in the deepest excitement of fear. corti understood the cause. poor creatures! they had need of religious comfort. a thousand ghosts in one view could not have overcome them as did the approach of the morrow. at the right of the altar, he discovered the princess in the midst of her attendants, who kept close to her, like young birds to the mother in alarm. she was quiet and self-contained. apparently she alone heard the words of the reader; and whereas the count came in a penitent--doubtful--in a maze--unknowing what to do or where to turn, one glance at her face restored him. he resolved to tell her his history, omitting only the character in which he entered her kinsman's service, and the odious compact with mahommed. her consent to accompany him to sancta sophia must be obtained; for that he was come. his presence in the chapel awakened a suppressed excitement, and directly the princess came to him. "what has happened, count corti? why are you here?" "to speak with you, o princess irene' "go with me, then." she conducted him into a passage, and closed the door behind them. "the floor of my reception room is overlaid with the sick and suffering--my whole house is given up to them. speak here; and if the news be bad, dear count, it were mercy not to permit the unfortunates to hear you." she was not thinking of herself. he took the hand extended to him, and kissed it--to him it was the hand of more than the most beautiful woman in the world--it was the hand of a saint in white transfigurement. "thy imperial kinsman, o princess, is at the church partaking of the holy communion, and receiving absolution." "at this hour? why is he there, count?" corti told her of the repast at the palace, and recounted the scene at parting. "it looks like despair. can it be the emperor is making ready to die? answer, and fear not for me. my life has been a long preparation. he believes the defence is lost--the captains believe so--and thou?" "o princess, it is terrible saying, but i too expect the judgment of god in the morning." the hall was so dimly lighted he could not see her face; but the nerve of sympathy is fine--he felt she trembled. only a moment--scarcely longer than taking a breath--then she answered: "judgment is for us all. it will find me here." she moved as if to return to the chapel; but he stepped before her, and drawing out a chair standing by the door, said, firmly, yet tenderly: "you are weary. the labor of helping the unfortunate these many days--the watching and anxiety--have been trying upon you. sit, i pray, and hear me." she yielded with a sigh. "the judgment which would find you here, o princes, would not be death, but something more terrible, so terrible words burn in thinking of it. i have sworn to defend you: and the oath, and the will to keep it, give me the right to determine where and how the defence shall be made. if there are advantages, i want them, for your sweet sake." he stopped to master his feeling. "you have never stood on the deck of a ship in wreck, and seen the sea rush in to overwhelm it," he went on presently: "i have; and i declare to you, o beloved lady, nothing can be so like to-morrow when the hordes break into the city, as that triumph of waters; and as on the deck there was no place of safety for the perishing crew, neither will there be place of safety for man, woman, or child in byzantium then--least of all for the kinswoman of the emperor--for her--permit me to say it--whose loveliness and virtue are themes for story-tellers throughout the east. as a prize--whether for ransom or dishonor--richer than the churches and the palaces, and their belongings, be they jewels or gold, or anointed crown, or bone of saint, or splinter of the true cross, or shred from the shirt of christ--to him who loves her, a prize of such excellence that glory, even the glory mahommed is now dreaming of when he shall have wrenched the keys of the gates from their rightful owner dead in the bloody breach, would pale if set beside it for comparison, and sink out of sight--think you she will not be hunted? or that the painted mother above the altar, though it spoke through a miraculous halo, could save her when found? no, no, princess, not here, not here!... you know i love you; in an unreasoning moment i dared tell you so; and you may think me passion-blind, and that i hung the vow to defend you upon my soul's neck, thinking it light as this favor you were pleased to give me; that love being a braggart, therefore i am a braggart. let me set myself right in your opinion--your good opinion, o princess, for it is to me a world of such fair shining i dream of it as of a garden in paradise.... if you do not know how hardly i have striven in this war, send, i pray, and ask any of the captains, or the most christian sovereign i have just left making his peace with god. some of them called me mad, but i pardoned them--they did not know the meaning of my battle-cry--'for christ and irene'--that i was venturing life less for constantinople, less for religion--i almost said, less for christ--than for you, who are all things in one to me, the fairest on earth, the best in heaven.... at last, at last i am driven to admit we may fail--that to-morrow, whether i am here or there, at your side or under the trampling, you may be a prisoner at mercy." at these words, of infinite anguish in utterance, the princess shuddered, and looked up in silent appeal. "attend me now. you have courage above the courage of women; therefore i may speak with plainness.... what will become of you--i give the conclusion of many wrangles with myself--what will become of you depends upon the hands which happen to be laid on you first. o princess, are you giving me heed? do you comprehend me?" "the words concern me more than life, count." "i may go on then.... i have hope of saving your life and honor. you have but to do what i advise. if you cannot trust me, further speech were idleness, and i might as well take leave of you. death in many forms will be abroad to-morrow--nothing so easily found." "count corti," she returned, "if i hesitate pledging myself, it is not because of distrust. i will hear you." "it is well said, dear lady." he stopped--a pleasant warmth was in his heart--a perception, like dim light, began breaking through the obscurities in his mind. to this moment, in fact, he had trouble gaining his own consent to the proposal on his tongue; it seemed so like treachery to the noble woman--so like a cunning inveiglement to deliver her to mahommed under the hated compact. now suddenly the proposal assumed another appearance--it was the best course--the best had there been no wager, no compact, no obligation but knightly duty to her. as he proceeded, this conviction grew clearer, bringing him ease of conscience and the subtle influence of a master arguing right. he told her his history then, holding nothing back but the two points mentioned. twice only she interrupted him. "your mother, count corti--poor lady--how she has suffered! but what happiness there is in store for her!" and again: "how wonderful the escape from the falsehoods of the prophet! there is no love like christ's love unless--unless it be a mother's." at the conclusion, her chin rested in the soft palm of her hand, and the hand, unjewelled, was white as marble just carven, and, like the arm, a wonder of grace. of what was she thinking?--of him? had he at last made an impression upon her? what trifles serve the hope of lovers! at length she asked: "then, o count, thou wert his playmate in childhood?" a bitter pang struck him--that pensiveness was for mahommed--yet he answered: "i was nearest him until he took up his father's sword." "is he the monster they call him?" "to his enemies, yes--and to all in the road to his desires, yes--but to his friends there was never such a friend." "has he heart to"-- the omission, rather than the question, hurt him--still he returned: "yes, once he really loves." then she appeared to awake. "to the narrative now--forgive my wandering." the opportunity to return was a relief to him, and he hastened to improve it. "i thank you for grace, o princess, and am reminded of the pressure of time. i must to the gate again with the emperor.... this is my proposal. instead of biding here to be taken by some rapacious hordesman, go with me to sancta sophia, and when the sultan comes thither--as he certainly will--deliver yourself to him. if, before his arrival, the plunderers force the doors of the holy house, i will stand with you, not, princess, as count corti the italian, but mirza the emir and janissary, appointed by the sultan to guard you. my berbers will help the assumption." he had spoken clearly, yet she hesitated. "ah," he said, "you doubt mahommed. he will be upon honor. the glory-winners, princess, are those always most in awe of the judgment of the world." yet she sat silent. "or is it i who am in your doubt?" "no, count. but my household--my attendants--the poor creatures are trembling now--some of them, i was about saying, are of the noblest families in byzantium, daughters of senators and lords of the court. i cannot desert them--no, count corti, not to save myself. the baseness would be on my soul forever. they must share my fortune, or i their fate." still she was thinking of others! more as a worshipper than lover, the count replied: "i will include them in my attempt to save you. surely heaven will help me, for your sake, o princess." "and i can plead for them with him. count corti, i will go with you." the animation with which she spoke faded in an instant. "but thou--o my friend, if thou shouldst fall?" "nay, let us be confident. if heaven does not intend your escape, it would be merciful, o beloved lady, did it place me where no report of your mischance and sorrows can reach me. looking at the darkest side, should i not come for you, go nevertheless to the church. doubt not hearing of the entry of the turks. seek mahommed, if possible, and demand his protection. tell him, i, mirza the emir, counselled you. on the other side, be ready to accompany me. make preparation to-night--have a chair at hand, and your household assembled--for when i come, time will be scant.... and now, god be with you! i will not say be brave--be trustful." she extended her hand, and he knelt, and kissed it. "i will pray for you, count corti." "heaven will hear you." he went out, and rejoining the emperor, rode with him from the church to blacherne. chapter xii the assault the bonfires of the hordes were extinguished about the time the christian company said their farewells after the last supper in the very high residence, and the hordes themselves appeared to be at rest, leaving night to reset her stars serenely bright over the city, the sea, and the campania. to the everlasting honor of that company, be it now said, they could under cover of the darkness have betaken themselves to the ships and escaped; yet they went to their several posts. having laid their heads upon the breast of the fated emperor, and pledged him their lives, there is no account of one in craven refuge at the break of day. the emperor's devotion seems to have been a communicable flame. this is the more remarkable when it is remembered that in the beginning the walls were relied upon to offset the superiority of the enemy in numbers, while now each knight and man-at-arms knew the vanity of that reliance--knew himself, in other words, one of scant five thousand men--to such diminished roll had the besieged been reduced by wounds, death and desertion--who were to muster on the ruins of the outer wall, or in the breaches of the inner, and strive against two hundred and fifty thousand goaded by influences justly considered the most powerful over ferocious natures--religious fanaticism and the assurance of booty without limit. the silence into which the turkish host was sunk did not continue a great while. the greeks on the landward walls became aware of a general murmur, followed shortly by a rumble at times vibrant--so the earth complains of the beating it receives from vast bodies of men and animals in hurried passage. "the enemy is forming," said john grant to his associate carystos, the archer. minotle, the venetian bayle, listening from the shattered gate of adrianople, gave order: "arouse the men. the turks are coming." justiniani, putting the finishing touches upon his masked repairs behind what had been the alley or passage between the towers bagdad and st. romain, was called to by his lookout: "come up, captain--the infidels are stirring--they seem disposed to attack." "no," the captain returned, after a brief observation, "they will not attack to-night--they are getting ready." none the less, without relieving his working parties, he placed his command in station. at selimbria and the golden gate the christians stood to arms. so also between the gates. then a deep hush descended upon the mighty works--mighty despite the slugging they had endured--and the silence was loaded with anxiety. for such of my readers as have held a night-watch expectant of battle at disadvantage in the morning it will be easy putting themselves in the place of these warders at bay; they can think their thoughts, and hear the heavy beating of their hearts; they will remember how long the hours were, and how the monotony of the waiting gnawed at their spirits until they prayed for action, action. on the other hand, those without the experience will wonder how men can bear up bravely in such conditions--and that is a wonder. in furtherance of his plan, mahommed drew in his irregulars, and massed them in the space between the intrenchment and the ditch; and by bringing his machines and small guns nearer the walls, he menaced the whole front of defence with a line amply provided with scaling ladders and mantelets. behind the line he stationed bodies of horsemen to arrest fugitives, and turn them back to the fight. his reserves occupied the intrenchments. the janissaries were retained at his quarters opposite st. romain. the hordes were clever enough to see what the arrangement portended for them, and they at first complained. "what, grumble, do they?" mahommed answered. "ride, and tell them i say the first choice in the capture belongs to the first over the walls. theirs the fault if the city be not an empty nest to all who come after them." the earth in its forward movement overtook the moon just before daybreak; then in the deep hush of expectancy and readiness, the light being sufficient to reveal to the besieged the assault couchant below them, a long-blown flourish was sounded by the turkish heralds from the embrasure of the great gun. other trumpeters took up the signal, and in a space incredibly short it was repeated everywhere along the line of attack. a thunder of drums broke in upon the music. up rose the hordes, the archers and slingers, and the ladder bearers, and forward, like a bristling wave, they rushed, shouting every man as he pleased. in the same instant the machines and light guns were set in operation. never had the old walls been assailed by such a tempest of bolts, arrows, stones and bullets--never had their echoes been awakened by an equal explosion of human voices, instruments of martial music, and cannon. the warders were not surprised by the assault so much as by its din and fury; and when directly the missiles struck them, thickening into an uninterrupted pouring rain, they cowered behind the merlons, and such other shelters as they could find. this did not last long--it was like the shiver and gasp of one plunged suddenly into icy water. the fugitives were rallied, and brought back to their weapons, and to replying in kind; and having no longer to shoot with care, the rabble fusing into a compact target, especially on the outer edge of the ditch, not a shaft, or bolt, or stone, or ball from culverin went amiss. afterwhile, their blood warming with the work, and the dawn breaking, they could see their advantage of position, and the awful havoc they were playing; then they too knew the delight in killing which more than anything else proves man the most ferocious of brutes. the movement of the hordes was not a dash wholly without system--such an inference would be a great mistake. there was no pretence of alignment or order--there never is in such attacks--forlorn hopes, receiving the signal, rush on, each individual to his own endeavor; here, nevertheless, the pachas and beys directed the assault, permitting no blind waste of effort. they hurled their mobs at none but the weak places--here a breach, there a dismantled gate. thousands were pushed headlong into the moat. the ladders then passed down to such of them as had footing were heavy, but they were caught willingly; if too short, were spliced; once planted so as to bring the coping of the wall in reach, they swarmed with eager adventurers, who, holding their shields and pikes overhead, climbed as best they could. those below cheered their comrades above, and even pushed them up. "the spoils--think of the spoils--the gold, the women!... _allah-il-allah!_... up, up--it is the way to paradise!" darts and javelins literally cast the climbers in a thickened shade. sometimes a ponderous stone plunging down cleaned a ladder from top to bottom; sometimes, waiting until the rounds were filled, the besieged applied levers, and swung a score and more off helpless and shrieking. no matter--_allah-il-allah!_ the living were swift to restore and attempt the fatal ascents. every one dead and every one wounded became a serviceable clod; rapidly as the dump and cumber of humanity filled the moat the ladders extended their upward reach; while drum-beat, battle-cry, trumpet's blare, and the roar of cannon answering cannon blent into one steady all-smothering sound. in the stretches of space between gates, where the walls and towers were intact, the strife of the archers and slingers was to keep the greeks occupied, lest they should reenforce the defenders hard pressed elsewhere. during the night the blockading vessels had been warped close into the shore, and, the wall of the seafront being lower than those on the land side, the crews, by means of platforms erected on the decks, engaged the besieged from a better level. there also, though attempts at escalade were frequent, the object was chiefly to hold the garrison in place. in the harbor, particularly at the wood gate, already mentioned as battered out of semblance to itself by the large gun on the floating battery, the turks exerted themselves to effect a landing; but the christian fleet interposed, and there was a naval battle of varying fortune. so, speaking generally, the city was wrapped in assault; and when the sun at last rode up into the clear sky above the asiatic heights, streets, houses, palaces, churches--the hills, in fact, from the sea to the tower of isaac--were shrouded in ominous vapor, through which such of the people as dared go abroad flitted pale and trembling; or if they spoke to each other, it was to ask in husky voices, what have you from the gates? passing now to the leading actors in this terrible tragedy. mahommed retired to his couch early the night previous. he knew his orders were in course of execution by chiefs who, on their part, knew the consequences of failure. the example made of the admiral in command of the fleet the day the five relieving christian galleys won the port was fresh in memory. [footnote: he was stretched on the ground and whipped like a common malefactor.] "to-morrow, to-morrow," he kept repeating, while his pages took off his armor, and laid the pieces aside. "to-morrow, to-morrow," lingered in his thoughts, when, his limbs stretched out comfortably on the broad bronze cot which served him for couch, sleep crept in as to a tired child, and laid its finger of forgetfulness upon his eyelids. the repetition was as when we run through the verse of a cheerful song, thinking it out silently, and then recite the chorus aloud. once he awoke, and, sitting up, listened. the mighty host which had its life by his permission was quiet--even the horses in their apartment seemed mindful that the hour was sacred to their master. falling to sleep again, he muttered: "to-morrow, to-morrow--irene and glory. i have the promise of the stars." to mahommed the morrow was obviously but a holiday which was bringing him the kingly part in a joyous game--a holiday too slow in coming. about the third hour after midnight he was again awakened. a man stood by his cot imperfectly shading the light of a lamp with his hand. "prince of india!" exclaimed mahommed, rising to a sitting posture. "it is i, my lord." "what time is it?" the prince gave him the hour. "is it so near the break of day?" mahommed yawned. "tell me"--he fixed his eyes darkly on the visitor--"tell me first why thou art here?" "i will, my lord, and truly. i wished to see if you could sleep. a common soul could not. it is well the world has no premonitory sense." "why so?" "my lord has all the qualities of a conqueror." mahommed was pleased. "yes, i will make a great day of to-morrow. but, prince of india, what shadows are disturbing thee? why art thou not asleep?" "i too have a part in the day, my lord." "what part?" "i will fight, and"-- mahommed interrupted him with a laugh. "thou!" and he looked the stooped figure over from head to foot. "my lord has two hands--i have four--i will show them." returning to his apartment, the prince reappeared with nilo. "behold, my lord!" the black was in the martial attire of a king of kash-cush--feathered coronet, robe of blue and red hanging from shoulder to heel, body under the robe naked to the waist, assegai in the oft-wrapped white sash, skirt to the knees glittering with crescents and buttons of silver, sandals beaded with pearls. on his left arm depended a shield rimmed and embossed with brass; in his right hand he bore a club knotted, and of weight to fell a bull at a blow. without the slightest abashment, but rather as a superior, the king looked down at the young sultan. "i see--i understand--i welcome the four hands of the prince of india," mahommed said, vivaciously; then, giving a few moments of admiration to the negro, he turned, and asked: "prince, i have a motive for to-morrow--nay, by the cool waters of paradise, i have many motives. tell me thine. in thy speech and action i have observed a hate for these greeks deep as the shintan's for god. why? what have they done to thee?" "they are christians," the jew returned, sullenly. "that is good, prince, very good--even the prophet judged it a justification for cleaning the earth of the detestable sect--yet it is not enough. i am not old as thou"--mahommed lost the curious gleam which shone in the visitor's eyes--"i am not old as thou art; still i know hate like thine must be from a private grievance." "my lord is right. to-morrow i will leave the herd to the herd. in the currents of the fight i will hunt but one enemy--constantine. judge thou my cause." then he told of lael--of his love for her--of her abduction by demedes--his supplication for the emperor's assistance--the refusal. "she was the child of my soul," he continued, passionately. "my interest in life was going out; she reinspired it. she was the promise of a future for me, as the morning star is of a gladsome day. i dreamed dreams of her, and upon her love builded hopes, like shining castles on high hills. yet it was not enough that the greek refused me his power to discover and restore her. she is now in restraint, and set apart to become the wife of a christian--a christian priest--may the fiends juggle for his ghost!--to-morrow i will punish the tyrant--i will give him a dog's death, and then seek her. oh! i will find her--i will find her--and by the light there is in love, i will show him what all of hell there can be in one man's hate!" for once the cunning of the prince overreached itself. in the rush of passion he forgot the exquisite sensory gifts of the potentate with whom he was dealing; and mahommed, observant even while shrinking from the malignant fire in the large eyes, discerned incoherencies in the tale, and that it was but half told; and while he was resolving to push his messenger of the stars to a full confession, a distant rumble invaded the tent, accompanied by a trample of feet outside. "it is here, prince of india--the day of destiny. let us get ready, thou for thy revenge, i for glory and"--irene was on his tongue, but he suppressed the name. "call my chamberlain and equerry.... on the table there thou mayst see my arms--a mace my ancestor ilderim [footnote: bajazet.] bore at nicopolis, and thy sword of solomon.... god is great, and the jinn and the stars on my side, what have we to fear?" within half an hour he rode out of the tent. "blows the wind to the city or from it?" he asked his chief aga of janissaries. "toward the city, my lord." "exalted be the name of the prophet! set the flower of the faithful in order--a column of front wide as the breach in the gate--and bring the heralds. i shall be by the great gun." pushing his horse on the parapet, he beheld the space before him, down quite to the moat--every trace of the cemetery had disappeared--dark with hordes assembled and awaiting the signal. satisfied, happy, he looked then toward the east. none better than he knew the stars appointed to go before the sun--their names were familiar to him--now they were his friends. at last a violet corona infinitely soft glimmered along the hill tops beyond scutari. "stand out now," he cried to the five in their tabards of gold--"stand out now, and as ye hope couches in paradise, blow--blow the stones out of their beds yonder--god was never so great!" then ensued the general advance which has been described, except that here, in front of st. romain, there was no covering the assailants with slingers and archers. the fill in the ditch was nearly level with the outer bank, from which it may be described as an ascending causeway. this advantage encouraged the idea of pouring the hordesmen _en masse_ over the hill composed of the ruins of what had been the towers of the gate. there was an impulsive dash under incitement of a mighty drumming and trumpeting--a race, every man of the thousands engaged in it making for the causeway--a jam--a mob paralyzed by its numbers. they trampled on each other--they fought, and in the rebound were pitched in heaps down the perpendicular revetment on the right and left of the fill. of those thus unfortunate the most remained where they fell, alive, perhaps, but none the less an increasing dump of pikes, shields, and crushed bodies; and in the roar above them, cries for help, groans, and prayers were alike unheard and unnoticed. all this justiniani had foreseen. behind loose stones on top of the hill, he had collected culverins, making, in modern phrase, a masked battery, and trained the pieces to sweep the causeway; with them, as a support, he mixed archers and pikemen. on either flank, moreover, he stationed companies similarly armed, extending them to the unbroken wall, so there was not a space in the breach undefended. the captain, on watch and expectant, heard the signal. "to the emperor at blacherne," he bade; "and say the storm is about to break. make haste." then to his men: "light the matches, and be ready to throw the stones down." the hordesmen reached the edge of the ditch; that moment the guns were unmasked, and the genoese leader shouted: "fire, my men!--_christ and holy church!_" then from the christian works it was bullet, bolt, stone, and shaft, making light of flimsy shield and surcoat of hide; still the hordesmen pushed on, a river breasting an obstruction. now they were on the causeway. useless facing about--behind them an advancing wall--on both sides the ditch. useless lying down--that was to be smothered in bloody mire. forward, forward, or die. what though the causeway was packed with dead and wounded?--though there was no foothold not slippery?--though the smell of hot blood filled every nostril?--though hands thrice strengthened by despair grappled the feet making stepping blocks of face and breast? the living pressed on leaping, stumbling, staggering; their howl, "gold--spoils--women--slaves," answered from the smoking hill, "_christ and holy church._" and now, the causeway crossed, the leading assailants gain the foot of the rough ascent. no time to catch breath--none to look for advantage--none to profit by a glance at the preparation to receive them--up they must go, and up they went. arrows and javelins pierce them; stones crush them; the culverins spout fire in their faces, and, lifting them off their uncertain footing, hurl them bodily back upon the heads and shields of their comrades. along the brow of the rocky hill a mound of bodies arises wondrous quick, an obstacle to the warders of the pass who would shoot, and to the hordesmen a barrier. slowly the corona on the scutarian hills deepened into dawn. the emperor joined justiniani. count corti came with him. there was an affectionate greeting. "your majesty, the day is scarcely full born, yet see how islam is rueing it." constantine, following justiniani's pointing, peered once through the smoke; then the necessity of the moment caught him, and, taking post between guns, he plied his long lance upon the wretches climbing the rising mound, some without shields, some weaponless, most of them incapable of combat. with the brightening of day the mound grew in height and width, until at length the christians sallied out upon it to meet the enemy still pouring on. an hour thus. suddenly, seized with a comprehension of the futility of their effort, the hordesmen turned, and rushed from the hill and the causeway. the christians suffered but few casualties; yet they would have gladly rested. then, from the wall above the breach, whence he had used his bow, count corti descended hastily. "your majesty," he said, his countenance kindled with enthusiasm, "the janissaries are making ready." justiniani was prompt. "come!" he shouted. "come every one! we must have clear range for the guns. down with these dead! down with the living. no time for pity!" setting the example, presently the defenders were tossing the bodies of their enemies down the face of the hill. on his horse, by the great gun, mahommed had observed the assault, listening while the night yet lingered. occasionally a courier rode to him with news from this pacha or that one. he heard without excitement, and returned invariably the same reply: "tell him to pour the hordes in." at last an officer came at speed. "oh, my lord, i salute you. the city is won." it was clear day then, yet a light not of the morning sparkled in mahommed's eyes. stooping in his saddle, he asked: "what sayest thou? tell me of it, but beware--if thou speakest falsely, neither god nor prophet shall save thee from impalement to the roots of thy tongue." "as i have to tell my lord what i saw with my own eyes, i am not afraid.... my lord knows that where the palace of blacherne begins on the south there is an angle in the wall. there, while our people were feigning an assault to amuse the greeks, they came upon a sunken gate"-- "the cercoporta--i have heard of it." "my lord has the name. trying it, they found it unfastened and unguarded, and, pushing through a darkened passage, discovered they were in the palace. mounting to the upper floor, they attacked the unbelievers. the fighting goes on. from room to room the christians resist. they are now cut off, and in a little time the quarter will be in our possession." mahommed spoke to kalil: "take this man, and keep him safely. if he has spoken truly, great shall be his reward; if falsely, better he were not his mother's son." then to one of his household: "come hither.... go to the sunken gate cercoporta, pass in, and find the chief now fighting in the palace of blacherne. tell him i, mahommed, require that he leave the palace to such as may follow him, and march and attack the defenders of this gate, st. romain, in the rear. he shall not stop to plunder. i give him one hour in which to do my bidding. ride thou now as if a falcon led thee. for allah and life!" next he called his aga of janissaries. "have the hordes before this gate retired. they have served their turn; they have made the ditch passable, and the _gabours_ are faint with killing them. observe, and when the road is cleared let go with the flower of the faithful. a province to the first through; and this the battle-cry: _allah-il-allah!_ they will fight under my eye. minutes are worth kingdoms. go thou, and let go." always in reserve, always the last resort in doubtful battle, always the arm with which the sultans struck the finishing blow, the janissaries thus summoned to take up the assault were in discipline, spirit, and splendor of appearance the _elite_ corps of the martial world. riding to the front, the aga halted to communicate mahommed's orders. down the columns the speech was passed. the flower of the faithful were in three divisions dismounted. throwing off their clumsy gowns, they stood forth in glittering mail, and shaking their brassy shields in air, shouted the old salute: "_live the padishah! live the padishah!_" the road to the gate was cleared; then the aga galloped back, and when abreast of the yellow flag of the first division, he cried: "_allah-il-allah!_ forward!" and drum and trumpet breaking forth, a division moved down in column of fifties. slowly at first, but solidly, and with a vast stateliness it moved. so at pharsalia marched the legion caesar loved--so in decision of heady fights strode the old guard of the world's last conqueror. approaching the ditch, the fresh assailants set up the appointed battle-cry, and quickening the step to double time rushed over the terrible causeway. mahommed then descended to the ditch, and remained there mounted, the sword of solomon in his hand, the mace of ilderim at his saddle bow; and though hearing him was impossible, the faithful took fire from his fire--enough that they were under his eye. the feat attempted by the hordes was then repeated, except now there was order in disorder. the machine, though shaken and disarranged, kept working on, working up. somehow its weight endured. slowly, with all its drench and cumber, the hill was surmounted. again a mound arose in front of the battery--again the sally, and the deadly ply of pikes from the top of the mound. the emperor's lance splintered; he fought with a pole-axe; still even he became sensible of a whelming pressure. in the gorge, the smoke, loaded with lime-dust, dragged rather than lifted; no man saw down it to the causeway; yet the ascending din and clamor, possessed of the smiting power of a gust of wind, told of an endless array coming. there was not time to take account of time; but at last a turkish shield appeared over the ghastly rampart, glimmering as the moon glimmers through thick vapor. thrusts in scores were made at it, yet it arose; then a janissary sprang up on the heap, singing like a muezzin, and shearing off the heads of pikes as reapers shear green rye. he was a giant in stature and strength. both genoese and greeks were disposed to give him way. the emperor rallied them. still the turk held his footing, and other turks were climbing to his support. now it looked as if the crisis were come, now as if the breach were lost. in the last second a cry _for christ and irene_ rang through the melee, and count corti, leaping from a gun, confronted the turk. "ho, son of ouloubad! hassan, hassan!" [footnote: one of the janissaries, hassan d'ouloubad, of gigantic stature and prodigious strength, mounted to the assault under cover of his shield, his cimeter in the right hand. he reached the rampart with thirty of his companions. nineteen of them were cast down, and hassan himself fell struck by a stone.--von hammer.] he shouted, in the familiar tongue. "who calls me?" the giant asked, lowering his shield, and gazing about in surprise. "i call you--i, mirza the emir. thy time has come. _christ and irene. now!_" with the word the count struck the janissary fairly on the flat cap with his axe, bringing him to his knees. almost simultaneously a heavy stone descended upon the dazed man from a higher part of the wall, and he rolled backward down the steep. constantine and justiniani, with others, joined the count, but too late. of the fifty comrades composing hassan's file, thirty mounted the rampart. eighteen of them were slain in the bout. corti raged like a lion; but up rushed the survivors of the next file--and the next--and the vantage-point was lost. the genoese, seeing it, said: "your majesty, let us retire." "is it time?" "we must get a ditch between us and this new horde, or we are all dead men." then the emperor shouted: "back, every one! for love of christ and holy church, back to the galley!" the guns, machines, store of missiles, and space occupied by the battery were at once abandoned. constantine and corti went last, facing the foe, who warily paused to see what they had next to encounter. the secondary defence to which the greeks resorted consisted of the hulk brought up, as we have seen, by count corti, planted on its keel squarely in rear of the breach, and filled with stones. from the hulk, on right and left, wings of uncemented masonry extended to the main wall in form thus: [illustration] a ditch fronted the line fifteen feet in width and twelve in depth, provided with movable planks for hasty passage. culverins were on the hulk, with ammunition in store. greatly to the relief of the jaded christians, who, it is easy believing, stood not on the order of going, they beheld the reserves, under demetrius palaeologus and nicholas giudalli, in readiness behind the refuge. the emperor, on the deck, raised the visor of his helmet, and looked up at an imperial flag drooping in the stagnant air from a stump of the mast. whatever his thought or feeling, no one could discern on his countenance an unbecoming expression. the fact, of which he must have been aware, that this stand taken ended his empire forever, had not shaken his resolution or confidence. to demetrius palaeologus, who had lent a hand helping him up the galley's side, he said: "thank you, kinsman. god may still be trusted. open fire." the janissaries, astonished at the new and strange defence, would have retreated, but could not; the files ascending behind drove them forward. at the edge of the ditch the foremost of them made a despairing effort to resist the pressure rushing them to their fate--down they went in mass, in their last service no better than the hordesmen--clods they became--clods in bright harness instead of bull-hide and shaggy astrakhan. from the wings, bolts and stones; from the height of the wall, bolts and stones; from the hulk, grapeshot; and the rattle upon the shields of the faithful was as the passing of empty chariots over a pompeiian street. imprecations, prayers, yells, groans, shrieks, had lodgement only in the ear of the most merciful. the open maw of a ravenous monster swallowing the column fast as mahommed down by the great moat drove it on--such was the new ditch. yet another, the final horror. when the ditch was partially filled, the christians brought jugs of the inflammable liquid contributed to the defence by john grant; and cast them down on the writhing heap. straightway the trench became a pocket of flame, or rather an oven from which the smell of roasting human flesh issued along with a choking cloud! the besieged were exultant, as they well might be--they were more than holding the redoubtable flower of the faithful at bay--there was even a merry tone in their battle-cry. about that time a man dismounted from a foaming horse, climbed the rough steps to the deck of the galley, and delivered a message to the emperor. "your majesty. john grant, minotle the bayle, carystos, langasco, and jerome the italian are slain. blacherne is in possession of the turks, and they are marching this way. the hordes are in the streets. i saw them, and heard the bursting of doors, and the screams of women." constantine crossed himself three times, and bowed his head. justiniani turned the color of ashes, and exclaimed: "we are undone--undone! all is lost!" and that his voice was hoarse did not prevent the words being overheard. the fire slackened--ceased. men fighting jubilantly dropped their arms, and took up the cry--"all is lost! the hordes are in, the hordes are in!" doubtless count corti's thought sped to the fair woman waiting for him in the chapel, yet he kept clear head. "your majesty," he said, "my berbers are without. i will take them, and hold the turks in check while you draw assistance from the walls. or"--he hesitated, "or i will defend your person to the ships. it is not too late." indeed, there was ample time for the emperor's escape. the berbers were keeping his horse with corti's. he had but to mount, and ride away. no doubt he was tempted. there is always some sweetness in life, especially to the blameless. he raised his head, and said to justiniani: "captain, my guard will remain here. to keep the galley they have only to keep the fire alive in the ditch. you and i will go out to meet the enemy." ... then he addressed himself to corti: "to horse, count, and bring theophilus palaeologus. he is on the wall between this gate and the gate selimbria.... ho, christian gentlemen," he continued, to the soldiers closing around him, "all is not lost. the bochiardi at the adrianople gate have not been heard from. to fly from an unseen foe were shameful, we are still hundreds strong. let us descend, and form. god cannot"-- that instant justiniani uttered a loud cry, and dropped the axe he was holding. an arrow had pierced the scales of his gauntlet, and disabled his hand. the pain, doubtless, was great, and he started hastily as if to descend from the deck. constantine called out: "captain, captain!" "give me leave, your majesty, to go and have this wound dressed." "where, captain?" "to my ship." the emperor threw his visor up--his face was flushed--in his soul indignation contended with astonishment. "no, captain, the wound cannot be serious; and besides, how canst thou get to thy ships?" justiniani looked over the bulwark of the vessel. the alley from the gate ran on between houses abutting the towers. a ball from one of mahommed's largest guns had passed through the right-hand building, leaving a ragged fissure. thither the captain now pointed. "god opened that breach to let the turks in. i will go out by it." he stayed no longer, but went down the steps, and in haste little short of a run disappeared through the fissure so like a breach. the desertion was in view of his genoese, of whom a few followed him, but not all. many who had been serving the guns took swords and pikes, and gathering about the emperor, cried out: "give orders, your majesty. we will bide with you." he returned them a look full of gratitude. "i thank you, gentlemen. let us go down, and join our shields across the street. to my guard i commit defence of the galley." unfastening the purple half-cloak at his back, and taking off his helmet, he called to his sword-bearer: "here, take thou these, and give me my sword.... now, gallant gentlemen--now, my brave countrymen--we will put ourselves in the keeping of heaven. come!" they had not all gained the ground, however, when there arose a clamor in their front, and the hordesmen appeared, and blocking up the passage, opened upon them with arrows and stones, while such as had javelins and swords attacked them hand to hand. the christians behaved well, but none better than constantine. he fought with strength, and in good countenance; his blade quickly reddened to the hilt. "strike, my countrymen, for city and home. strike, every one, for _christ and holy church!_" and answering him: "_christ and holy church!_" they all fought as they had strength, and their swords were also reddened to the hilt. quarter was not asked; neither was it given. theirs to hold the ground, and they held it. they laid the hordesmen out over it in scattered heaps which grew, and presently became one long heap the width of the alley; and they too fell, but, as we are willing to believe, unconscious of pain because lapped in the delirium of battle-fever. five minutes--ten--fifteen--then through the breach by which justiniani ingloriously fled theophilus palaeologus came with bared brand to vindicate his imperial blood by nobly dying; and with him came count corti, francesco de toledo, john the dalmatian, and a score and more christian gentlemen who well knew the difference between an honorable death and a dishonored life. steadily the sun arose. half the street was in its light, the other half in its shade; yet the struggle endured; nor could any man have said god was not with the christians. suddenly a louder shouting arose behind them. they who could, looked to see what it meant, and the bravest stood stone still at sight of the janissaries swarming on the galley. over the roasting bodies of their comrades, undeterred by the inextinguishable fire, they had crossed the ditch, and were slaying the imperial body-guard. a moment, and they would be in the alley, and then-- up rose a wail: "the janissaries, the janissaries! _kyrie eleison!_" through the knot of christians it passed--it reached constantine in the forefront, and he gave way to the antagonist with whom he was engaged. "god receive my soul!" he exclaimed; and dropping his sword, he turned about, and rushed back with wide extended arms. "friends--countrymen!--is there no christian to kill me?" then they understood why he had left his helmet off. while those nearest stared at him, their hearts too full of pity to do him the last favor one can ask of another, from the midst of the hordesmen there came a man of singular unfitness for such a scene--indeed a delicate woman had not been more out of place--for he was small, stooped, withered, very white haired, very pale, and much bearded--a black velvet cap on his head, and a gown of the like about his body, unarmed, and in every respect unmartial. he seemed to glide in amongst the christians as he had glided through the close press of the turks; and as the latter had given him way, so now the sword points of the christians went down--men in the heat of action forgot themselves, and became bystanders--such power was there in the unearthly eyes of the apparition. "is there no christian to kill me?" cried the emperor again. the man in velvet stood before him. "prince of india!" "you know me? it is well; for now i know you are not beyond remembering." the voice was shrill and cutting, yet it shrilled and cut the sharper. "remember the day i called on you to acknowledge god, and give him his due of worship. remember the day i prayed you on my knees to lend me your power to save my child, stolen for a purpose by all peoples held unholy. behold your executioner!" he stepped back, and raised a hand; and ere one of those standing by could so much as cry to god, nilo, who, in the absorption of interest in his master, had followed him unnoticed--nilo, gorgeous in his barbarisms of kash-cush, sprang into the master's place. he did not strike; but with infinite cruel cunning of hand--no measurable lapse of time ensuing--drew the assegai across the face of the astonished emperor. constantine--never great till that moment of death, but then great forever--fell forward upon his shield, calling in strangled utterance: "god receive my soul!" the savage set his foot upon the mutilated countenance, crushing it into a pool of blood. an instant, then through the petrified throng, knocking them right and left, count corti appeared. "_for christ and irene!_" he shouted, dashing the spiked boss of his shield into nilo's eyes--down upon the feathered coronal he brought his sword--and the negro fell sprawling upon the emperor. oblivious to the surroundings, count corti, on his knees, raised the emperor's head, slightly turning the face--one look was enough. "his soul is sped!" he said; and while he was tenderly replacing the head, a hand grasped his cap. he sprang to his feet. woe to the intruder, if an enemy! the sword which had known no failure was drawn back to thrust--above the advanced foot the shield hung in ready poise--between him and the challenger there was only a margin of air and the briefest interval of time--his breath was drawn, and his eyes gleamed with vengeful murder--but--some power invisible stayed his arm, and into his memory flashed the lightning of recognition. "prince of india," he shouted, "never wert thou nearer death!" "thou--liest! death--and--i"-- the words were long drawn between gasps, and the speech was never finished. the tongue thickened, then paralyzed. the features, already distorted with passion, swelled, and blackened horribly. the eyes rolled back--the hands flew up, the fingers apart and rigid--the body rocked--stiffened--then fell, sliding from the count's shield across the dead emperor. the combat meantime had gone on. corti, with a vague feeling that the prince's flight of soul was a mystery in keeping with his life, took a second to observe him, and muttered: "peace to him also!" looking about him then, he was made aware that the christians, attacked in front and rear, were drawing together around the body of constantine--that their resistance was become the last effort of brave men hopeless except of the fullest possible payment for their lives. this was succeeded by a conviction of duty done on his part, and of every requirement of honor fulfilled; thereupon with a great throb of heart, his mind reverted to the princess irene waiting for him in the chapel. he must go to her. but how? and was it not too late? there are men whose wits are supernaturally quickened by danger. the count, pushing through the intervening throng, boldly presented himself to the janissaries, shouting while warding the blows they aimed at him: "have done, o madmen! see you not i am your comrade, mirza the emir? have done, i say, and let me pass. i have a message for the padishah!" he spoke turkish, and having been an idol in the barracks--their best swordsman--envied, and at the same time beloved--they knew him, and with acclamations opened their files, and let him pass. by the fissure which had served justiniani, he escaped from the terrible alley, and finding his berbers and his horse, rode with speed for the residence of the princess irene. not a christian survived the combat. greek, genoese, italian lay in ghastly composite with hordesmen and mailed moslems around the emperor. in dying they had made good their battle-cry--_for christ and holy church!_ let us believe they will yet have their guerdon. about an hour after the last of them had fallen, when the narrow passage was deserted by the living--the conquerors having moved on in search of their hire--the prince of india aroused, and shook himself free of the corpses cumbering him. upon his knees he gazed at the dead--then at the place--then at the sky. he rubbed his hands--made sure he was sound of person--he seemed uncertain, not of life, but of himself. in fact, he was asking, who am i? and the question had reference to the novel sensations of which he was conscious. what was it coursing through his veins? wine?--elixir?--some new principle which, hidden away amongst the stores of nature, had suddenly evolved for him? the weights of age were gone. in his body--bones, arms, limbs, muscles--he recognized once more the glorious impulses of youth; but his mind--he started--the ideas which had dominated him were beginning to return--and memory! it surged back upon him, and into its wonted chambers, like a wave which, under pressure of a violent wind, has been momentarily driven from a familiar shore. he saw, somewhat faintly at first, the events which had been promontories and lofty peaks cast up out of the level of his long existence. then that day and that event! how distinctly they reappeared to him! they must be the same--must be--for he beheld the multitude on its way to calvary, and the victim tottering under the cross; he heard the tribune ask, "ho, is this the street to golgotha?" he heard his own answer, "i will guide you;" and he spit upon the fainting man of sorrows, and struck him. and then the words--"tarry thou till i come!" identified him to himself. he looked at his hands--they were black with what had been some other man's life-blood, but under the stain the skin was smooth--a little water would make them white. and what was that upon his breast? beard--beard black as a raven's wing! he plucked a lock of hair from his head. it, too, was thick with blood, but it was black. youth--youth--joyous, bounding, eager, hopeful youth was his once more! he stood up, and there was no creak of rust in the hinges of his joints; he knew he was standing inches higher in the sunlit air; and a cry burst from him--"o god, i give thanks!" the hymn stopped there, for between him and the sky, as if it were ascending transfigured, he beheld the victim of the crucifixion; and the eyes, no longer sad, but full of accusing majesty, were looking downward at him, and the lips were in speech: "tarry thou till i come!" he covered his face with his hands. yes, yes, he had his youth back again, but it was with the old mind and nature--youth, that the curse upon him might, in the mortal sense, be eternal! and pulling his black hair with his young hands, wrenching at his black beard, it was given him to see he had undergone his fourteenth transformation, and that between this one and the last there was no lapse of connection. old age had passed, leaving the conditions and circumstances of its going to the youth which succeeded. the new life in starting picked up and loaded itself with every burden and all the misery of the old. so now while burrowing, as it were, amongst dead men, his head upon the breast of the emperor whom, treating nilo as an instrument in his grip, he had slain, he thought most humanly of the effects of the transformation. first of all, his personal identity was lost, and he was once more a wanderer without an acquaintance, a friend, or a sympathizer on the earth. to whom could he now address himself with a hope of recognition? his heart went out primarily to lael--he loved her. suppose he found her, and offered to take her in his arms; she would repulse him. "thou art not my father. he was old--thou art young." and syama, whose bereavements of sense had recommended him for confidant in the event of his witnessing the dreaded circumstance just befallen--if he addressed himself to syama, the faithful creature would deny him. "no; my master was old--his hair and beard were white--thou art a youth. go hence." and then mahommed, to whom he had been so useful in bringing additional empire, and a glory which time would make its own forever--did he seek mahommed again--"thou art not the prince of india, my peerless messenger of the stars. he was old--his hair and beard were white--thou art a boy. ho, guards, take this impostor, and do with him as ye did with balta-ogli stretch him on the ground, and beat the breath out of him." there is nothing comes to us, whether in childhood or age, so crushing as a sense of isolation. who will deny it had to do with the marshalling of worlds, and the peopling them--with creation? these reflections did but wait upon the impulse which still further identified him to himself--the impulse to go and keep going--and he cast about for solaces. "it is the judgment," he said, with a grim smile; "but my stores remain, and hiram of tyre is yet my friend. i have my experience of more than a thousand years, and with it youth again. i cannot make men better, and god refuses my services. nevertheless i will devise new opportunities. the earth is round, and upon its other side there must be another world. perhaps i can find some daring spirit equal to the voyage and discovery--some one heaven may be more willing to favor. but this meeting place of the old continents"--he looked around him, and then to the sky--"with my farewell, i leave it the curse of the most accursed. the desired of nations, it shall be a trouble to them forever." then he saw nilo under a load of corpses, and touched by remembrance of the poor savage's devotion, he uncovered him to get at his heart, which was still beating. next he threw away his cap and gown, replaced them with a bloody tarbousche and a shaggy angora mantle, selected a javelin, and sauntered leisurely on into the city. having seen constantinople pillaged by christians, he was curious to see it now sacked by moslems--there might be a further solace in the comparison. [footnote: according to the earliest legends, the wandering jew was about thirty years old when he stood in the road to golgotha, and struck the saviour, and ordered him to go forward. at the end of every hundred years, the undying man falls into a trance, during which his body returns to the age it was when the curse was pronounced. in all other respects he remains unchanged.] chapter xiii mahommed in sancta sophia count corti, we may well believe, did not spare his own steed, or those of his berbers; and there was a need of haste of which he was not aware upon setting out from st. romain. the turks had broken through the resistance of the christian fleet in the harbor, and were surging into the city by the gate st. peter (phanar), which was perilously near the residence of the princess irene. already the spoil-seekers were making sure of their hire. more than once he dashed by groups of them hurrying along the streets in search of houses most likely to repay plundering. there were instances when he overtook hordesmen already happy in the possession of "strings of slaves;" that is to say, of greeks, mostly women and children, tied by their hands to ropes, and driven mercilessly on. the wailing and prayers of the unfortunate smote the count to the heart; he longed to deliver them; but he had given his best efforts to save them in the struggle to save the city, and had failed; now it would be a providence of heaven could he rescue the woman waiting for him in such faith as was due his word and honor specially plighted to her. as the pillagers showed no disposition to interfere with him, he closed his eyes and ears to their brutalities, and sped forward. the district in which the princess dwelt was being overrun when he at last drew rein at her door. with a horrible dread, he alighted, and pushed in unceremoniously. the reception-room was empty. was he too late? or was she then in sancta sophia? he flew to the chapel, and blessed god and christ and the mother, all in a breath. she was before the altar in the midst of her attendants. sergius stood at her side, and of the company they alone were perfectly self-possessed. a white veil lay fallen over her shoulders; save that, she was in unrelieved black. the pallor of her countenance, caused, doubtless, by weeks of care and unrest, detracted slightly from the marvelous beauty which was hers by nature; but it seemed sorrow and danger only increased the gentle dignity always observable in her speech and manner. "princess irene," he said, hastening forward, and reverently saluting her hand, "if you are still of the mind to seek refuge in sancta sophia, i pray you, let us go thither." "we are ready," she returned. "but tell me of the emperor." the count bent very low. "your kinsman is beyond insult and further humiliation. his soul is with god." her eyes glistened with tears, and partly to conceal her emotion she turned to the picture above the altar, and said, in a low voice, and brokenly: "o holy mother, have thou his soul in thy tender care, and be with me now, going to what fate i know not." the young women surrounded her, and on their knees filled the chapel with sobbing and suppressed wails. striving for composure himself, the count observed them, and was at once assailed by an embarrassment. they were twenty and more. each had a veil over her head; yet from the delicacy of their hands he could imagine their faces, while their rank was all too plainly certified by the elegance of their garments. as a temptation to the savages, their like was not within the walls. how was he to get them safely to the church, and defend them there? he was used to military problems, and decision was a habit with him; still he was sorely tried--indeed, he was never so perplexed. the princess finished her invocation to the holy mother. "count corti," she said, "i now place myself and these, my sisters in misfortune, under thy knightly care. only suffer me to send for one other.--go, sergius, and bring lael." one other! "now god help me!" he cried, involuntarily; and it seemed he was heard. "princess," he returned, "the turks have possession of the streets. on my way i passed them with prisoners whom they were driving, and they appeared to respect a right of property acquired. perhaps they will be not less observant to me; wherefore bring other veils here--enough to bind these ladies two and two." as she seemed hesitant, he added: "pardon me, but in the streets you must all go afoot, to appearances captives just taken." the veils were speedily produced, and the princess bound her trembling companions in couples hand to hand; submitting finally to be herself tied to lael. then when sergius was more substantially joined to the ancient lysander, the household sallied forth. a keener realization of the situation seized the gentler portion of the procession once they were in the street, and they there gave way to tears, sobs, and loud appeals to the saints and angels of mercy. the count rode in front; four of his berbers moved on each side; sheik hadifah guarded the rear; and altogether a more disconsolate company of captives it were hard imagining. a rope passing from the first couple to the last was the only want required to perfect the resemblance to the actual slave droves at the moment on nearly every thoroughfare in constantinople. the weeping cortege passed bands of pillagers repeatedly. once what may be termed a string in fact was met going in the opposite direction; women and children, and men and women were lashed together, like animals, and their lamentations were piteous. if they fell or faltered, they were beaten. it seemed barbarity could go no further. once the count was halted. a man of rank, with a following at his heels, congratulated him in turkish: "o friend, thou hast a goodly capture." the stranger came nearer. "i will give you twenty gold pieces for this one," pointing to the princess irene, who, fortunately, could not understand him--"and fifteen for this one." "go thy way, and quickly," said corti, sternly. "dost thou threaten me?" "by the prophet, yes--with my sword, and the padishah." "the padishah! oh, ho!" and the man turned pale. "god is great--i give him praise." at last the count alighted before the main entrance of the church. by friendly chance, also--probably because the site was far down toward the sea, in a district not yet reached by the hordesmen--the space in front of the vestibule was clear of all but incoming fugitives; and he had but to knock at the door, and give the name of the princess irene to gain admission. in the vestibule the party were relieved of their bonds; after which they passed into the body of the building, where they embraced each other, and gave praise aloud for what they considered a final deliverance from death and danger; in their transports, they kissed the marbles of the floor again and again. while this affecting scene was going on, corti surveyed the interior. the freest pen cannot do more than give the view with a clearness to barely stimulate the reader's imagination. it was about eleven o'clock. the smoke of battle which had overlain the hills of the city was dissipated; so the sun, nearing high noon, poured its full of splendor across the vast nave in rays slanted from south to north, and a fine, almost impalpable dust hanging from the dome in the still air, each ray shone through it in vivid, half-prismatic relief against the shadowy parts of the structure. such pillars in the galleries as stood in the paths of the sunbeams seemed effulgent, like emeralds and rubies. his eyes, however, refused everything except the congregation of people. "o heaven!" he exclaimed. "what is to become of these poor souls!" byzantium, it must be recalled, had had its triumphal days, when greeks drew together, like jews on certain of their holy occasions; undoubtedly the assemblages then were more numerous, but never had there been one so marked by circumstances. this was the funeral day of the empire! let the reader try to recompose the congregation the count beheld--civilians--soldiers--nuns--monks--monks bearded, monks shaven, monks tonsured--monks in high hats and loose veils, monks in gowns scarce distinguishable from gowns of women--monks by the thousand. ah, had they but dared a manly part on the walls, the cause of the christ for whom they affected such devotion would not have suffered the humiliation to which it was now going! as to the mass in general, let the reader think of the rich jostled by the poor--fine ladies careless if their robes took taint from the lazarus' next them--servants for once at least on a plane with haughty masters--senators and slaves--grandsires--mothers with their infants--old and young, high and low, all in promiscuous presence--society at an end--sancta sophia a universal last refuge. and by no means least strange, let the reader fancy the refugees on their knees, silent as ghosts in a tomb, except that now and then the wail of a child broke the awful hush, and gazing over their shoulders, not at the altar, but toward the doors of entrance; then let him understand that every one in the smother of assemblage--every one capable of thought--was in momentary expectation of a miracle. here and there moved priestly figures, holding crucifixes aloft, and halting at times to exhort in low voices: "be not troubled, o dearly beloved of christ! the angel will appear by the old column. if the powers of hell are not to prevail against the church, what may men do against the sword of god?" the congregation was waiting for the promised angel to rescue them from the barbarians. of opinion that the chancel, or space within the railing of the apse opposite him, was a better position for his charge than the crowded auditorium, partly because he could more easily defend them there, and partly because mahommed when he arrived would naturally look for the princess near the altar, the count, with some trouble, secured a place within it behind the brazen balustrade at the right of the gate. the invasion of the holy reserve by the berbers was viewed askance, but submitted to; thereupon the princess and her suite took to waiting and praying. afterwhile the doors in the east were barred by the janitor. still later there was knocking at them loud enough to be by authority. the janitor had become deaf. later still a yelling as of a mob out in the vestibule penetrated to the interior, and a shiver struck the expectant throng, less from a presentiment of evil at hand than a horrible doubt. an angel of the lord would hardly adopt such an incongruous method of proclaiming the miracle done. a murmur of invocation began with those nearest the entrances, and ran from the floor to the galleries. as it spread, the shouting increased in volume and temper. ere long the doors were assailed. the noise of a blow given with determination rang dreadful warning through the whole building, and the concourse arose. the women shrieked: "the turks! the turks!" even the nuns who had been practising faith for years joined their lay sisters in crying: "the turks! the turks!" the great, gowned, cowardly monks dropped their crucifixes, and, like the commoner sons of the church, howled: "the turks! the turks!" finally the doors were battered in, and sure enough--there stood the hordesmen, armed and panoplied each according to his tribe or personal preference--each a most unlikely delivering angel. this completed the panic. in the vicinity of the ruined doors everybody, overcome by terror, threw himself upon those behind, and the impulsion thus started gained force while sweeping on. as ever in such cases, the weak were the sufferers. children were overrun--infants dashed from the arms of mothers--men had need of their utmost strength--and the wisdom of the count in seeking the chancel was proved. the massive brazen railing hardly endured the pressure when the surge reached it; but it stood, and the princess and her household--all, in fact, within the chancel--escaped the crushing, but not the horror. the spoilsmen were in strength, but they were prudently slow in persuading themselves that the greeks were unarmed, and incapable of defending the church. ere long they streamed in, and for the first time in the history of the edifice the colossal christ on the ceiling above the altar was affronted by the slogan of islam--_allah-il-allah_. strange now as it may appear to the reader, there is no mention in the chronicles of a life lost that day within the walls of sancta sophia. the victors were there for plunder, not vengeance, and believing there was more profit in slaves than any other kind of property, their effort was to save rather than kill. the scene was beyond peradventure one of the cruelest in history, but the cruelty was altogether in taking possession of captives. tossing their arms of whatever kind upon their backs, the savages pushed into the pack of christians to select whom they would have. we may be sure the old, sick, weakly, crippled, and very young were discarded, and the strong and vigorous chosen. remembering also how almost universally the hordes were from the east, we may be sure a woman was preferred to a man, and a pretty woman to an ugly one. the hand shrinks from trying to depict the agonies of separation which ensued--mothers torn from their children, wives from husbands--their shrieks, entreaties, despair--the mirthful brutality with which their pitiful attempts at resistance were met--the binding and dragging away--the last clutch of love--the final disappearance. it is only needful to add that the rapine involved the galleries no less than the floor. all things considered, the marvel is that the cry--there was but one, just as the sounds of many waters are but one to the ear--which then tore the habitual silence of the august temple should have ever ceased--and it would not if, in its duration, human sympathy were less like a flitting echo. next to women, the monks were preferred, and the treatment they received was not without its touches of grim humor. their cowls were snatched off, and bandied about, their hats crushed over their ears, their veils stuffed in their mouths to stifle their outcries, their rosaries converted into scourges; and the laughter when a string of them passed to the doors was long and loud. they had pulled their monasteries down upon themselves. if the emperor, then lying in the bloody alley of st. romain, dead through their bigotry, superstition, and cowardice, had been vengeful in the slightest degree, a knowledge of the judgment come upon them so soon would have been at least restful to his spirit. it must not be supposed count corti was indifferent while this appalling scene was in progress. the chancel, he foresaw, could not escape the foray. there was the altar, loaded with donatives in gold and precious stones, a blazing pyramidal invitation. when the doors were burst in, he paused a moment to see if mahommed were coming. "the hordes are here, o princess, but not the sultan." she raised her veil, and regarded him silently. "i see now but one resort. as mirza the emir, i must meet the pillagers by claiming the sultan sent me in advance to capture and guard you for him." "we are at mercy, count corti," she replied. "heaven deal with you as you deal with us." "if the ruse fails, princess, i can die for you. now tie yourselves as before--two and two, hand to hand. it may be they will call on me to distinguish such as are my charge." she cast a glance of pity about her. "and these, count--these poor women not of my house, and the children--can you not save them also?" "alas, dear lady! the blessed mother must be their shield." while the veils were being applied, the surge against the railing took place, leaving a number of dead and fainting across it. "hadifah," the count called out, "clear the way to yon chair against the wall." the sheik set about removing the persons blockading the space, and greatly affected by their condition, the princess interceded for them. "nay, count, disturb them not. add not to their terror, i pray." but the count was a soldier; in case of an affray, he wanted the advantage of a wall at his back. "dear lady, it was the throne of your fathers, now yours. i will seat you there. from it you can best treat with the lord mahommed." ere long some of the hordes--half a dozen or more--came to the chancel gate. they were of the rudest class of anatolian shepherds, clad principally in half-cloaks of shaggy goat skin. each bore at his back a round buckler, a bow, and a clumsy quiver of feathered arrows. awed by the splendor of the altar and its surroundings, they stopped; then, with shouts, they rushed at the tempting display, unmindful of the living spoils crouched on the floor dumb with terror. others of a like kind reenforced them, and there was a fierce scramble. the latest comers turned to the women, and presently discovered the princess irene sitting upon the throne. one, more eager than the rest, was indisposed to respect the berbers. "here are slaves worth having. get your ropes," he shouted to his companions. the count interposed. "art thou a believer?" he asked in turkish. they surveyed him doubtfully, and then turned to hadifah and his men, tall, imperturbable looking, their dark faces visible through their open hoods of steel. they looked at their shields also, and at their bare cimeters resting points to the floor. "why do you ask?" the man returned. "because, as thou mayst see, we also are of the faithful, and do not wish harm to any whose mothers have taught them to begin the day with the fah-hat." the fellow was impressed. "who art thou?" "i am the emir mirza, of the household of our lord the padishah--to whom be all the promises of the koran! these are slaves i selected for him--all these thou seest in bonds. i am keeping them till he arrives. he will be here directly. he is now coming." a man wearing a bloody tarbousche joined the pillagers, during this colloquy, and pressing in, heard the emir's name passing from mouth to mouth. "the emir mirza! i knew him, brethren. he commanded the caravan, and kept the _mahmals,_ the year i made the pilgrimage.... stand off, and let me see." after a short inspection, he continued: "truly as there is no god but god, this is he. i was next him at the most holy corner of the kaaba when he fell down struck by the plague. i saw him kiss the black stone, and by virtue of the kiss he lived.... ay, stand back--or if you touch him, or one of these in his charge, and escape his hand, ye shall not escape the padishah, whose first sword he is, even as khalid was first sword for the prophet--exalted be his name!... give me thy hand, o valiant emir." he kissed the count's hand. "arise, o son of thy father," said corti; "and when our master, the lord mahommed, hath set up his court and harem, seek me for reward." the man stayed awhile, although there was no further show of interference; and he looked past the princess to lael cowering near her. he took no interest in what was going on around him--lael alone attracted him. at last he shifted his sheepskin covering higher upon his shoulders, and left these words with the count: "the women are not for the harem. i understand thee, o mirza. when the lord mahommed hath set up his court, do thou tell the little jewess yonder that her father the prince of india charged thee to give her his undying love." count corti was wonder struck--he could not speak--and so the wandering jew vanished from his sight as he now vanishes from our story. the selection among the other refugees in the chancel proceeded until there was left of them only such as were considered not worth the having. a long time passed, during which the princess irene sat with veil drawn close, trying to shut out the horror of the scene. her attendants, clinging to the throne and to each other, seemed a heap of dead women. at last a crash of music was heard in the vestibule--drums, cymbals, and trumpets in blatant flourish. four runners, slender lads, in short, sleeveless jackets over white shirts, and wide trousers of yellow silk, barefooted and bareheaded, stepped lightly through the central doorway, and, waving wands tipped with silver balls, cried, in long-toned shrill iteration: "the lord mahommed--mahommed, sultan of sultans." the spoilsmen suspended their hideous labor--the victims, moved doubtless by a hope of rescue, gave over their lamentations and struggling--only the young children, and the wounded, and suffering persisted in vexing the floor and galleries. next to enter were the five official heralds. halting, they blew a triumphant refrain, at which the thousands of eyes not too blinded by misery turned to them. and mahommed appeared! he too had escaped the angel of the false monks! when the fighting ceased in the harbor, and report assured him of the city at mercy, mahommed gave order to make the gate st. romain passable for horsemen, and with clever diplomacy summoned the pachas and other military chiefs to his tent; it was his pleasure that they should assist him in taking possession of the prize to which he had been helped by their valor. with a rout so constituted at his back, and an escort of _silihdars_ mounted, the runners and musicians preceding him, he made his triumphal entry into constantinople, traversing the ruins of the towers bagdad and st. romain. he was impatient and restless. in their ignorance of his passion for the grecian princess, his ministers excused his behavior on account of his youth [footnote: he was in his twenty-third year.] and the greatness of his achievement. passing st. romain, it was also observed he took no interest in the relics of combat still there. he gave his guides but one order: "take me to the house the _gabours_ call the glory of god." "sancta sophia, my lord?" "sancta sophia--and bid the runners run." his sheik-ul-islam was pleased. "hear!" he said to the dervishes with him. "the lord mahommed will make mosques of the houses of christ before sitting down in one of the palaces. his first honors are to god and the prophet." and they dutifully responded: "great are god and his prophet! great is mahommed, who conquers in their names!" the public edifices by which he was guided--churches, palaces, and especially the high aqueduct, excited his admiration; but he did not slacken the fast trot in which he carried his loud cavalcade past them until at the hippodrome. "what thing of devilish craft is here?" he exclaimed, stopping in front of the twisted serpents. "thus the prophet bids me!" and with a blow of his mace, he struck off the lower jaw of one of the pythons. again the dervishes shouted: "great is mahommed, the servant of god!" it was his preference to be taken to the eastern front of sancta sophia, and in going the guides led him by the corner of the bucoleon. at sight of the vast buildings, their incomparable colonnades and cornices, their domeless stretches of marble and porphyry, he halted the second time, and in thought of the vanity of human glory, recited: "the spider hath woven his web in the imperial palace; and the owl hath sung her watch-song on the towers of afrasiab." in the space before the church, as elsewhere along the route he had come, the hordes were busy carrying off their wretched captives; but he affected not to see them. they had bought the license of him, many of them with their blood. at the door the suite dismounted. mahommed however, kept his saddle while surveying the gloomy exterior. presently he bade: "let the runners and the heralds enter." hardly were they gone in, when he spoke to one of his pages: "here, take thou this, and give me my cimeter." and then, receiving the ruby-hilted sword of solomon in exchange for the mace of ilderim, without more ado he spurred his horse up the few broad stone steps, and into the vestibule. thence, the contemptuous impulse yet possessing him, he said loudly: "the house is defiled with idolatrous images. islam is in the saddle." in such manner--mounted, sword in hand, shield behind him--clad in beautiful gold-washed chain mail, the very ideal of the immortal emir who won jerusalem from the crusaders, and restored it to allah and the prophet--mahommed made his first appearance in sancta sophia. astonishment seized him. he checked his horse. slowly his gaze ranged over the floor--up to the galleries--up--up to the swinging dome--in all architecture nothing so nearly a self-depending sky. "here, take the sword--give me back my mace," he said. and in a fit of enthusiasm, not seeing, not caring for the screaming wretches under hoof, he rode forward, and, standing at full height in his stirrups, shouted: "idolatry be done! down with the trinity. let christ give way for the last and greatest of the prophets! to god the one god, i dedicate this house!" therewith he dashed the mace against a pillar; and as the steel rebounded, the pillar trembled. [footnote: the guides, if good moslems, take great pleasure in showing tourists the considerable dent left by this blow in the face of the pillar.] "now give me the sword again, and call achmet, my muezzin--achmet with the flute in his throat." the moods of mahommed were swift going and coming. riding out a few steps, he again halted to give the floor a look. this time evidently the house was not in his mind. the expression on his face became anxious. he was searching for some one, and moved forward so slowly the people could get out of his way, and his suite overtake him. at length he observed the half-stripped altar in the apse, and went to it. the colossal christ on the ceiling peered down on him through the shades beginning to faintly fill the whole west end. now he neared the brazen railing of the chancel--now he was at the gate--his countenance changed--his eyes brightened--he had discovered count corti. swinging lightly from his saddle, he passed with steps of glad impatience through the gateway. then to count corti came the most consuming trial of his adventurous life. the light was still strong enough to enable him to see across the church. comprehending the flourish of the heralds, he saw the man on horseback enter; and the mien, the pose in the saddle, the rider's whole outward expose of spirit, informed him with such certainty as follows long and familiar association, that mahommed was come--mahommed, his ideal of romantic orientalism in arms. a tremor shook him--his cheek whitened. to that moment anxiety for the princess had held him so entirely he had not once thought of the consequences of the wager lost; now they were let loose upon him. having saved her from the hordes, now he must surrender her to a rival--now she was to go from him forever. verily it had been easier parting with his soul. he held to his cimeter as men instantly slain sometimes keep grip on their weapons; yet his head sunk upon his breast, and he saw nothing more of mahommed until he stood before him inside the chancel. "count corti, where is"-- mahommed caught sight of the count's face. "oh, my poor mirza!" a volume of words could not have so delicately expressed sympathy as did that altered tone. taking off his steel glove, the fitful conqueror extended the bare hand, and the count, partially recalled to the situation by the gracious offer, sunk to his knees, and carried the hand to his lips. "i have kept the faith, my lord," he said in turkish, his voice scarcely audible. "this is she behind me--upon the throne of her fathers. receive her from me, and let me depart." "my poor mirza! we left the decision to god, and he has decided. arise, and hear me now." to the notables closing around, he said, imperiously: "stand not back. come up, and hear me." stepping past the count, then, he stood before the princess. she arose without removing her veil, and would have knelt; but mahommed moved nearer, and prevented her. the training of the politest court in europe was in her action, and the suite looking on, used to slavishness in captives, and tearful humility in women, he held her with amazement; nor could one of them have said which most attracted him, her queenly composure or her simple grace. "suffer me, my lord," she said to him; then to her attendants: "this is mahommed the sultan. let us pray him for honorable treatment." presently they were kneeling, and she would have joined them, but mahommed again interfered. "your hand, o princess irene! i wish to salute it." sometimes a wind blows out of the sky, and swinging the bell in the cupola, starts it to ringing itself; so now, at sight of the only woman he ever really loved overtaken by so many misfortunes, and actually threatened by a rabble of howling slave-hunters, mahommed's better nature thrilled with pity and remorse, and it was only by an effort of will he refrained from kneeling to her, and giving his passion tongue. nevertheless a kiss, though on the hand, can be made tell a tale of love, and that was what the youthful conqueror did. "i pray next that you resume your seat," he continued. "it has pleased god, o daughter of a palaeologus, to leave you the head of the greek people; and as i have the terms of a treaty to submit of great concern to them and you, it were more becoming did you hear me from a throne.... and first, in this presence, i declare you a free woman--free to go or stay, to reject or to accept--for a treaty is impossible except to sovereigns. if it be your pleasure to go, i pledge conveyance, whether by sea or land, to you and yours--attendants, slaves, and property; nor shall there be in any event a failure of moneys to keep you in the state to which you have been used." "for your grace, lord mahommed, i shall beseech heaven to reward you." "as the god of your faith is the god of mine, o princess irene, i shall be grateful for your prayers.... in the next place, i entreat you to abide here; and to this i am moved by regard for your happiness. the conditions will be strange to you, and in your going about there will be much to excite comparisons of the old with the new; but the arabs had once a wise man, el hatim by name--you may have heard of him"--he cast a quick look at the eyes behind the veil--"el hatim, a poet, a warrior, a physician, and he left a saying: 'herbs for fevers, amulets for mischances, and occupation for distempers of memory.' if it should be that time proves powerless over your sorrows, i would bring employment to its aid.... heed me now right well. it pains me to think of constantinople without inhabitants or commerce, its splendors decaying, its palaces given over to owls, its harbor void of ships, its churches vacant except of spiders, its hills desolations to eyes afar on the sea. if it become not once more the capital city of europe and asia, some one shall have defeated the will of god; and i cannot endure that guilt or the thought of it. 'sins are many in kind and degree, differing as the leaves and grasses differ,' says a dervish of my people; 'but for him who stands wilfully in the eyes of the most merciful--for him only shall there be no mercy in the great day.'... yes, heed me right well--i am not the enemy of the greeks, o princess irene. their power could not agree with mine, and i made war upon it; but now that heaven has decided the issue, i wish to recall them. they will not listen to me. though i call loudly and often, they will remember the violence inflicted on them in my name. their restoration is a noble work in promise. is there a greek of trust, and so truly a lover of his race, to help me make the promise a deed done? the man is not; but thou, o princess--thou art. behold the employment i offer you! i will commission you to bring them home--even these sorrowful creatures going hence in bonds. or do you not love them so much?... religion shall not hinder you. in the presence of these, my ministers of state, i swear to divide houses of god with you; half of them shall be christian, the other half moslem; arid neither sect shall interfere with the other's worship. this i will seal, reserving only this house, and that the patriarch be chosen subject to my approval. or do you not love your religion so much?".... during the discourse the princess listened intently; now she would have spoken, but he lifted his hand. "not yet, not yet! it is not well for you to answer now. i desire that you have time to consider--and besides, i come to terms of more immediate concern to you.... here, in the presence of these witnesses, o princess irene, i offer you honorable marriage." mahommed bowed very low at the conclusion of this proposal. "and wishing the union in conscience agreeable to you, i undertake to celebrate it according to christian rite and moslem. so shall you become queen of the greeks--their intercessor--the restorer and protector of their church and worship--so shall you be placed in a way to serve god purely and unselfishly; and if a thirst for glory has ever moved you, o princess, i present it to you a cupful larger than woman ever drank.... you may reside here or in therapia, and keep your private chapel and altar, and choose whom you will to serve them. and these things i will also swear to and seal." again she would have interrupted him. "no--bear with me for the once. i invoke your patience," he said. "in the making of treaties, o princess, one of the parties must first propose terms; then it is for the other to accept or reject, and in turn propose. and this"--he glanced hurriedly around--"this is no time nor place for argument. be content rather to return to your home in the city or your country-house at therapia. in three days, with your permission, i will come for your answer; and whatever it be, i swear by him who is god of the world, it shall be respected.... when i come, will you receive me?" "the lord mahommed will be welcome." "where may i wait on you?" "at therapia," she answered. mahommed turned about then. "count corti, go thou with the princess irene to therapia. i know thou wilt keep her safely.--and thou, kalil, have a galley suitable for a queen of the greeks made ready on the instant, and let there be no lack of guards despatched with it, subject to the orders of count corti, for the time once more mirza the emir.... o princess, if i have been peremptory, forgive me, and lend me thy hand again. i wish to salute it." again she silently yielded to his request. kalil, seeing only politics in the scene, marched before the princess clearing the way, and directly she was out of the church. at the suggestion of the count, sedan chairs were brought, and she and her half-stupefied companions carried to a galley, arriving at therapia about the fourth hour after sunset. mahommed had indeed been imperious in the interview; but, as he afterward explained to her, with many humble protestations, he had a part to play before his ministers. no sooner was she removed than he gave orders to clear the building of people and idolatrous symbols; and while the work was in progress, he made a tour of inspection going from the floor to the galleries. his wonder and admiration were unbounded. passing along the right-hand gallery, he overtook a pilferer with a tarbousche full of glass cubes picked from one of the mosaic pictures. "thou despicable!" he cried, in rage. "knowest thou not that i have devoted this house to allah? profane a mosque, wilt thou?" and he struck the wretch with the flat of his sword. hastening then to the chancel, he summoned achmet, the muezzin. "what is the hour?" he asked. "it is the hour of the fourth prayer, my lord." "ascend thou then to the highest turret of the house, and call the faithful to pious acknowledgment of the favors of god and his prophet--may their names be forever exalted." thus sancta sophia passed from christ to mahomet; and from that hour to this islam has had sway within its walls. not once since have its echoes been permitted to respond to a christian prayer or a hymn to the virgin. nor was this the first instance when, to adequately punish a people for the debasement and perversions of his revelations, god, in righteous anger, tolerated their destruction. to-day there are two cities, lights once of the whole earth, under curses so deeply graven in their remains--sites, walls, ruins--that every man and woman visiting them should be brought to know why they fell. alas, for jerusalem! alas, for constantinople! postscripts. in the morning of the third day after the fall of the city, a common carrier galley drew alongside the marble quay in front of the princess' garden at therapia, and landed a passenger--an old, decrepit man, cowled and gowned like a monk. with tottering steps he passed the gate, and on to the portico of the classic palace. of lysander, he asked: "is the princess irene here or in the city?" "she is here." "i am a greek, tired and hungry. will she see me?" the ancient doorkeeper disappeared, but soon returned. "she will see you. this way." the stranger was ushered into the reception room. standing before the princess, he threw back his cowl. she gazed at him a moment, then went to him and, taking his hands, cried, her eyes streaming with tears: "father hilarion! now praised be god for sending you to me in this hour of uncertainty and affliction!" needless saying the poor man's trials ended there, and that he never again went cold, or hungry, or in want of a place to lay his head. but this morning, after breaking fast, he was taken into council, and the proposal of marriage being submitted to him, he asked first: "what are thy inclinations, daughter?" and she made unreserved confession. the aged priest spread his hands paternally over her head, and, looking upward, said solemnly: "i think i see the great designer's purpose. he gave thee, o daughter, thy beauties of person and spirit, and raised thee up out of unspeakable sorrows, that the religion of christ should not perish utterly in the east. go forward in the way he has opened unto thee. only insist that mahommed present himself at thy altar, and there swear honorable dealing with thee as his wife, and to keep the treaty proposed by him in spirit and letter. doth he those things without reservation, then fear not. the old greek church is not all we would have it, but how much better it is than irreligion; and who can now say what will happen once our people are returned to the city?" * * * * * in the afternoon, a boat with one rower touched at the same marble quay, and disembarked an arab. his face was a dusty brown, and he wore an _abba_ such as children of the desert affect. his dark eyes were wonderfully bright, and his bearing was high, as might be expected in the sheik of a tribe whose camels were thousands to the man, and who dwelt in dowars with streets after the style of cities. on his right forearm he carried a crescent-shaped harp of five strings, inlaid with colored woods and mother of pearl. "does not the princess irene dwell here?" he asked. lysander, viewing him suspiciously, answered: "the princess irene dwells here." "wilt thou tell her one aboo-obeidah is at the door with a blessing and a story for her?" the doorkeeper again disappeared, and, returning, answered, with evident misgivings, "the princess irene prays you to come in." aboo-obeidah tarried at the therapian palace till night fell; and his story was an old one then, but he contrived to make it new; even as at this day, though four hundred and fifty years older than when he told it to the princess, women of white souls, like hers, still listen to it with downcast eyes and flushing cheeks--the only story which time has kept and will forever keep fresh and persuasive as in the beginning'. they were married in her chapel at therapia, father hilarion officiating. thence, when the city was cleansed of its stains of war, she went thither with mahommed, and he proclaimed her his sultana at a feast lasting through many days. and in due time he built for her the palace behind point demetrius, yet known as the seraglio. in other words, mahommed the sultan abided faithfully by the vows aboo-obeidah made for him. [footnote: the throne of mahommed was guarded by the numbers and fidelity of his moslem subjects; but his national policy aspired to collect the remnant of the greeks; and they returned in crowds as soon as they were assured of their lives, their liberties, and the free exercise of their religion.... the churches of constantinople were shared between the two religions. gibbon. ] and so, with ampler means, and encouraged by mahommed, the princess irene spent her life doing good, and earned the title by which she became known amongst her countrymen--the most gracious queen of the greeks. sergius never took orders formally. with the sultana irene and father hilarion, he preferred the enjoyment and practice of the simple creed preached by him in sancta sophia, though as between the latins and the orthodox greeks he leaned to the former. the active agent dispensing the charities of his imperial benefactress, he endeared himself to the people of both religions. ere long, he married lael, and they lived happily to old age. * * * * * nilo was found alive, and recovering, joined count corti. * * * * * count corti retained the fraternal affection of mahommed to the last. the conqueror strove to keep him. he first offered to send him ambassador to john sobieski; that being declined, he proposed promoting him chief aga of janissaries, but the count declared it his duty to hasten to italy, and devote himself to his mother. the sultan finally assenting, he took leave of the princess irene the day before her marriage. an officer of the court representing mahommed conducted the count to the galley built in venice. upon mounting the deck he was met by the tripolitans, her crew, and sheik hadifah, with his fighting berbers. he was then informed that the vessel and all it contained belonged to him. the passage was safely made. from brindisi he rode to castle corti. to his amazement, it was completely restored. not so much as a trace of the fire and pillage it had suffered was to be seen. his reception by the countess can be imagined. the proofs he brought were sufficient with her, and she welcomed him with a joy heightened by recollections of the years he had been lost to her, and the manifest goodness of the blessed madonna in at last restoring him--the joy one can suppose a christian mother would show for a son returned to her, as it were, from the grave. the first transports of the meeting over, he reverted to the night he saw her enter the chapel: "the castle was then in ruins; how is it i now find it rebuilt?" "did you not order the rebuilding?" "i knew nothing of it." then the countess told him a man had presented himself some months prior, with a letter purporting to be from him, containing directions to repair the castle, and spare no expense in the work. "fortunately," she said, "the man is yet in brindisi." the count lost no time in sending for the stranger, who presented him a package sealed and enveloped in oriental style, only on the upper side there was a _tughra_, or imperial seal, which he at once recognized as mahommed's. with eager fingers he took off the silken wraps, and found a note in translation as follows: "mahommed the sultan to ugo, count corti, formerly mirza the emir. "the wager we made, o my friend, who should have been the son of my mother, is not yet decided, and as it is not given a mortal to know the will of the most compassionate until he is pleased to expose it, i cannot say what the end will be. yet i love you, and have faith in you; and wishing you to be so assured whether i win or lose, i send mustapha to your country in advance with proofs of your heirship, and to notify the noble lady, your mother, that you are alive, and about returning to her. also, forasmuch as a turk destroyed it, he is ordered to rebuild your father's castle, and add to the estate all the adjacent lands he can buy; for verily no countship can be too rich for the mirza who was my brother. and these things he will do in your name, not mine. and when it is done, if to your satisfaction, o count, give him a statement that he may come to me with evidence of his mission discharged. "i commend you to the favor of the compassionate. mahommed." when the missive was read, mustapha knelt to the count, and saluted him. then he conducted him into the chapel of the castle, and going to the altar, showed him an iron door, and said: "my master, the lord mahommed, instructed me to deposit here certain treasure with which he graciously intrusted me. receive the key, i pray, and search the vault, and view the contents, and, if it please you, give me a certificate which will enable me to go back to my country, and live there a faithful servant of my master, the lord mahommed--may he be exalted as the faithful are!" now when the count came to inspect the contents of the vault he was displeased; and seeing it, mustapha proceeded: "my master, the lord mahommed, anticipated that you might protest against receiving the treasure; if so, i was to tell you it was to make good in some measure the sums the noble lady your mother has paid in searching for you, and in masses said for the repose of your father's soul." corti could not do else than accept. finally, to complete the narrative, he never married. the reasonable inference is, he never met a woman with graces sufficient to drive the princess irene from his memory. after the death of the countess, his mother, he went up to rome, and crowned a long service as chief of the papal guard by dying of a wound received in a moment of victory. hadifah, the berbers, and nilo chose to stay with him throughout. the tripolitans were returned to their country; after which the galley was presented to the holy father. once every year there came to the count a special messenger from constantinople with souvenirs; sometimes a sword royally enriched, sometimes a suit of rare armor, sometimes horses of el hajez--these were from mahommed. sometimes the gifts were precious relics, or illuminated scriptures, or rosaries, or crosses, or triptychs wonderfully executed--so irene the sultana chose to remind him of her gratitude. syama wandered around constantinople a few days after the fall of the city, looking for his master, whom he refused to believe dead. lael offered him asylum for life. suddenly he disappeared, and was never seen or heard of more. it may be presumed, we think, that the prince of india succeeded in convincing him of his identity, and took him to other parts of the world--possibly back to cipango. the end. by al haines. the prince of india or why constantinople fell by lew. wallace vol. i. _rise, too, ye shapes and shadows of the past rise from your long forgotten grazes at last let us behold your faces, let us hear the words you uttered in those days of fear revisit your familiar haunts again the scenes of triumph and the scenes of pain and leave the footprints of your bleeding feet once more upon the pavement of the street_ longfellow contents book i the earth and the sea are always giving up their secrets i. the nameless bay ii. the midnight landing iii. the hidden treasure book ii the prince of india i. a messenger from cipango ii. the pilgrim at el katif iii. the yellow air iv. el zaribah v. the passing of the caravan vi. the prince and the emir vii. at the kaaba viii. the arrival in constantinople ix. the prince at home x. the rose of spring book iii the princess irene i. morning on the bosphorus ii. the princess irene iii. the homeric palace iv. the russian monk v. a voice from the cloister vi. what do the stars say? vii. the prince of india meets constantine viii. racing with a storm ix. in the white castle x. the arabian story-teller xi. the turquoise ring xii. the ring returns xiii. mahommed hears from the stars xiv. dreams and visions xv. departure from the white castle xvi. an embassy to the princess irene xvii. the emperor's wooing xviii. the singing sheik xix. two turkish tales xx. mahommed dreams book iv the palace of blacherne i. the palace of blacherne ii. the audience iii. the new faith proclaimed iv. the pannychides v. a plague of crime vi. a byzantine gentleman of the period vii. a byzantine heretic viii. the academy of epicurus ix. a fisherman's fete x. the hamari book i the earth and the sea are always giving up their secrets the prince of india chapter i. the nameless bay in the noon of a september day in the year of our dear lord , a merchant vessel nodded sleepily upon the gentle swells of warm water flowing in upon the syrian coast. a modern seafarer, looking from the deck of one of the messagerie steamers now plying the same line of trade, would regard her curiously, thankful to the calm which held her while he slaked his wonder, yet more thankful that he was not of her passage. she could not have exceeded a hundred tons burthen. at the bow and stern she was decked, and those quarters were fairly raised. amidship she was low and open, and pierced for twenty oars, ten to a side, all swaying listlessly from the narrow ports in which they were hung. sometimes they knocked against each other. one sail, square and of a dingy white, drooped from a broad yard-arm, which was itself tilted, and now and then creaked against the yellow mast complainingly, unmindful of the simple tackle designed to keep it in control. a watchman crouched in the meagre shade of a fan-like structure overhanging the bow deck. the roofing and the floor, where exposed, were clean, even bright; in all other parts subject to the weather and the wash there was only the blackness of pitch. the steersman sat on a bench at the stern. occasionally, from force of habit, he rested a hand upon the rudder-oar to be sure it was yet in reach. with exception of the two, the lookout and the steersman, all on board, officers, oarsmen, and sailors, were asleep--such confidence could a mediterranean calm inspire in those accustomed to life on the beautiful sea. as if neptune never became angry there, and blowing his conch, and smiting with his trident, splashed the sky with the yeast of waves! however, in neptune had disappeared; like the great god pan, he was dead. the next remarkable thing about the ship was the absence of the signs of business usual with merchantmen. there were no barrels, boxes, bales, or packages visible. nothing indicated a cargo. in her deepest undulations the water-line was not once submerged. the leather shields of the oar-ports were high and dry. possibly she had passengers aboard. ah, yes! there under the awning, stretched halfway across the deck dominated by the steersman, was a group of persons all unlike seamen. pausing to note them, we may find the motive of the voyage. four men composed the group. one was lying upon a pallet, asleep yet restless. a black velvet cap had slipped from his head, giving freedom to thick black hair tinged with white. starting from the temples, a beard with scarce a suggestion of gray swept in dark waves upon the neck and throat, and even invaded the pillow. between the hair and beard there was a narrow margin of sallow flesh for features somewhat crowded by knots of wrinkle. his body was wrapped in a loose woollen gown of brownish-black. a hand, apparently all bone, rested upon the breast, clutching a fold of the gown. the feet twitched nervously in the loosened thongs of old-fashioned sandals. glancing at the others of the group, it was plain this sleeper was master and they his slaves. two of them were stretched on the bare boards at the lower end of the pallet, and they were white. the third was a son of ethiopia of unmixed blood and gigantic frame. he sat at the left of the couch, cross-legged, and, like the rest, was in a doze; now and then, however, he raised his head, and, without fully opening his eyes, shook a fan of peacock feathers from head to foot over the recumbent figure. the two whites were clad in gowns of coarse linen belted to their waists; while, saving a cincture around his loins, the negro was naked. there is often much personal revelation to be gleaned from the properties a man carries with him from home. applying the rule here, by the pallet there was a walking-stick of unusual length, and severely hand-worn a little above the middle. in emergency it might have been used as a weapon. three bundles loosely wrapped had been cast against a timber of the ship; presumably they contained the plunder of the slaves reduced to the minimum allowance of travel. but the most noticeable item was a leather roll of very ancient appearance, held by a number of broad straps deeply stamped and secured by buckles of a metal blackened like neglected silver. the attention of a close observer would have been attracted to this parcel, not so much by its antique showing, as by the grip with which its owner clung to it with his right hand. even in sleep he held it of infinite consequence. it could not have contained coin or any bulky matter. possibly the man was on some special commission, with his credentials in the old roll. ay, who was he? thus started, the observer would have bent himself to study of the face; and immediately something would have suggested that while the stranger was of this period of the world he did not belong to it. such were the magicians of the story-loving al-raschid. or he was of the type rabbinical that sat with caiphas in judgment upon the gentle nazarene. only the centuries could have evolved the apparition. who was he? in the course of half an hour the man stirred, raised his head, looked hurriedly at his attendants, then at the parts of the ship in view, then at the steersman still dozing by the rudder; then he sat up, and brought the roll to his lap, whereat the rigor of his expression relaxed. the parcel was safe! and the conditions about him were as they should be! he next set about undoing the buckles of his treasure. the long fingers were expert; but just when the roll was ready to open he lifted his face, and fixed his eyes upon the section of blue expanse outside the edge of the awning, and dropped into thought. and straightway it was settled that he was not a diplomatist or a statesman or a man of business of any kind. the reflection which occupied him had nothing to do with intrigues or statecraft; its centre was in his heart as the look proved. so, in tender moods, a father gazes upon his child, a husband at the beloved wife, restfully, lovingly. and that moment the observer, continuing his study, would have forgotten the parcel, the white slaves, the gigantic negro, the self-willed hair and beard of pride--the face alone would have held him. the countenance of the sphinx has no beauty now; and standing before it, we feel no stir of the admiration always a certificate that what we are beholding is charming out of the common lines; yet we are drawn to it irresistibly, and by a wish vague, foolish--so foolish we would hesitate long before putting it in words to be heard by our best lover--a wish that the monster would tell us all about itself. the feeling awakened by the face of the traveller would have been similar, for it was distinctly israelitish, with exaggerated eyes set deeply in cavernous hollows--a mobile mask, in fact, concealing a life in some way unlike other lives. unlike? that was the very attraction. if the man would only speak, what a tale he could unfold! but he did not speak. indeed, he seemed to have regarded speech a weakness to be fortified against. putting the pleasant thought aside, he opened the roll, and with exceeding tenderness of touch brought forth a sheet of vellum dry to brittleness, and yellow as a faded sycamore leaf. there were lines upon it as of a geometrical drawing, and an inscription in strange characters. he bent over the chart, if such it may be called, eagerly, and read it through; then, with a satisfied expression, he folded it back into the cover, rebuckled the straps, and placed the parcel under the pillow. evidently the business drawing him was proceeding as he would have had it. next he woke the negro with a touch. the black in salute bent his body forward, and raised his hands palm out, the thumbs at the forehead. attention singularly intense settled upon his countenance; he appeared to listen with his soul. it was time for speech, yet the master merely pointed to one of the sleepers. the watchful negro caught the idea, and going to the man, aroused him, then resumed his place and posture by the pallet. the action revealed his proportions. he looked as if he could have lifted the gates of gaza, and borne them easily away; and to the strength there were superadded the grace, suppleness, and softness of motion of a cat. one could not have helped thinking the slave might have all the elements to make him a superior agent in fields of bad as well as good. the second slave arose, and waited respectfully. it would have been difficult to determine his nationality. he had the lean face, the high nose, sallow complexion, and low stature of an armenian. his countenance was pleasant and intelligent. in addressing him, the master made signs with hand and finger; and they appeared sufficient, for the servant walked away quickly as if on an errand. a short time, and he came back bringing a companion of the genus sailor, very red-faced, heavily built, stupid, his rolling gait unrelieved by a suggestion of good manners. taking position before the black-gowned personage, his feet wide apart, the mariner said: "you sent for me?" the question was couched in byzantine greek. "yes," the passenger replied, in the same tongue, though with better accent. "where are we?" "but for this calm we should be at sidon. the lookout reports the mountains in view." the passenger reflected a moment, then asked, "resorting to the oars, when can we reach the city?" "by midnight." "very well. listen now." the speaker's manner changed; fixing his big eyes upon the sailor's lesser orbs, he continued: "a few stadia north of sidon there is what may be called a bay. it is about four miles across. two little rivers empty into it, one on each side. near the middle of the bend of the shore there is a well of sweet water, with flow enough to support a few villagers and their camels. do you know the bay?" the skipper would have become familiar. "you are well acquainted with this coast," he said. "do you know of such a bay?" the passenger repeated. "i have heard of it." "could you find it at night?" "i believe so." "that is enough. take me into the bay, and land me at midnight. i will not go to the city. get out all the oars now. at the proper time i will tell you what further i wish. remember i am to be set ashore at midnight at a place which i will show you." the directions though few were clear. having given them, the passenger signed the negro to fan him, and stretched himself upon the pallet; and thenceforth there was no longer a question who was in control. it became the more interesting, however, to know the object of the landing at midnight on the shore of a lonesome unnamed bay. chapter ii the midnight landing the skipper predicted like a prophet. the ship was in the bay, and it was midnight or nearly so; for certain stars had climbed into certain quarters of the sky, and after their fashion were striking the hour. the passenger was pleased. "you have done well," he said to the mariner. "be silent now, and get close in shore. there are no breakers. have the small boat ready, and do not let the anchors go." the calm still prevailed, and the swells of the sea were scarce perceptible. under the gentlest impulse of the oars the little vessel drifted broadside on until the keel touched the sands. at the same instant the small boat appeared. the skipper reported to the passenger. going to each of the slaves, the latter signed them to descend. the negro swung himself down like a monkey, and received the baggage, which, besides the bundles already mentioned, consisted of some tools, notably a pick, a shovel, and a stout crowbar. an empty water-skin was also sent down, followed by a basket suggestive of food. then the passenger, with a foot over the side of the vessel, gave his final directions. "you will run now," he said to the skipper, who, to his credit, had thus far asked no questions, "down to the city, and lie there to-morrow, and to-morrow night. attract little notice as possible. it is not necessary to pass the gate. put out in time to be here at sunrise. i will be waiting for you. day after to-morrow at sunrise--remember." "but if you should not be here?" asked the sailor, thinking of extreme probabilities. "then wait for me," was the answer. the passenger, in turn, descended to the boat, and was caught in the arms of the black, and seated carefully as he had been a child. in brief time the party was ashore, and the boat returning to the ship; a little later, the ship withdrew to where the night effectually curtained the deep. the stay on the shore was long enough to apportion the baggage amongst the slaves. the master then led the way. crossing the road running from sidon along the coast to the up-country, they came to the foothills of the mountain, all without habitation. later they came upon signs of ancient life in splendor--broken columns, and here and there corinthian capitals in marble discolored and sunk deeply in sand and mould. the patches of white on them had a ghastly glimmer in the starlight. they were approaching the site of an old city, a suburb probably of palae-tyre when she was one of the spectacles of the world, sitting by the sea to rule it regally far and wide. on further a small stream, one of those emptying into the bay, had ploughed a ravine for itself across the route the party was pursuing. descending to the water, a halt was made to drink, and fill the water-skin, which the negro took on his shoulder. on further there was another ancient site strewn with fragments indicative of a cemetery. hewn stones were frequent, and mixed with them were occasional entablatures and vases from which the ages had not yet entirely worn the fine chiselling. at length an immense uncovered sarcophagus barred the way. the master stopped by it to study the heavens; when he found the north star, he gave the signal to his followers, and moved under the trail of the steadfast beacon. they came to a rising ground more definitely marked by sarcophagi hewn from the solid rock, and covered by lids of such weight and solidity that a number of them had never been disturbed. doubtless the dead within were lying as they had been left--but when, and by whom? what disclosures there will be when at last the end is trumpeted in! on further, but still connected with the once magnificent funeral site, they encountered a wall many feet thick, and short way beyond it, on the mountain's side, there were two arches of a bridge of which all else had been broken down; and these two had never spanned anything more substantial than the air. strange structure for such a locality! obviously the highway which once ran over it had begun in the city the better to communicate with the cemetery through which the party had just passed. so much was of easy understanding; but where was the other terminus? at sight of the arches the master drew a long breath of relief. they were the friends for whom he had been searching. nevertheless, without stopping, he led down into a hollow on all sides sheltered from view; and there the unloading took place. the tools and bundles were thrown down by a rock, and preparations made for the remainder of the night. the pallet was spread for the master. the basket gave up its contents, and the party refreshed themselves and slept the sleep of the weary. the secluded bivouac was kept the next day. only the master went forth in the afternoon. climbing the mountain, he found the line in continuation of the bridge; a task the two arches serving as a base made comparatively easy. he stood then upon a bench or terrace cumbered with rocks, and so broad that few persons casually looking would have suspected it artificial. facing fully about from the piers, he walked forward following the terrace which at places was out of line, and piled with debris tumbled from the mountain on the right hand side; in a few minutes that silent guide turned with an easy curve and disappeared in what had yet the appearance hardly distinguishable of an area wrenched with enormous labor from a low cliff of solid brown limestone. the visitor scanned the place again and again; then he said aloud: "no one has been here since"-- the sentence was left unfinished. that he could thus identify the spot, and with such certainty pass upon it in relation to a former period, proved he had been there before. rocks, earth, and bushes filled the space. picking footway through, he examined the face of the cliff then in front of him, lingering longest on the heap of breakage forming a bank over the meeting line of area and hill. "yes," he repeated, this time with undisguised satisfaction, "no one has been here since"-- again the sentence was unfinished. he ascended the bank next, and removed some of the stones at the top. a carved line in low relief on the face of the rock was directly exposed; seeing it he smiled, and replaced the stones, and descending, went back to the terrace, and thence to the slaves in bivouac. from one of the packages he had two iron lamps of old roman style brought out, and supplied with oil and wicks; then, as if everything necessary to his project was done, he took to the pallet. some goats had come to the place in his absence, but no living creature else. after nightfall the master woke the slaves, and made final preparation for the venture upon which he had come. the tools he gave to one man, the lamps to another, and the water-skin to the negro. then he led out of the hollow, and up the mountain to the terrace visited in the afternoon; nor did he pause in the area mentioned as the abrupt terminus of the highway over the skeleton piers. he climbed the bank of stones covering the foot of the cliff up to the precise spot at which his reconnoissance had ended. directly the slaves were removing the bank at the top; not a difficult task since they had only to roll the loose stones down a convenient grade. they worked industriously. at length--in half an hour probably--an opening into the cliff was discovered. the cavity, small at first, rapidly enlarged, until it gave assurance of a doorway of immense proportions. when the enlargement sufficed for his admission, the master stayed the work, and passed in. the slaves followed. the interior descent offered a grade corresponding with that of the bank outside--another bank, in fact, of like composition, but more difficult to pass on account of the darkness. with his foot the leading adventurer felt the way down to a floor; and when his assistants came to him, he took from a pocket in his gown a small case filled with a chemical powder which he poured at his feet; then he produced a flint and steel, and struck them together. some sparks dropped upon the powder. instantly a flame arose and filled the place with a ruddy illumination. lighting the lamps by the flame, the party looked around them, the slaves with simple wonder. they were in a vault--a burial vault of great antiquity. either it was an imitation of like chambers in egypt, or they were imitations of it. the excavation had been done with chisels. the walls were niched, giving them an appearance of panelling, and over each of the niches there had been an inscription in raised letters, now mostly defaced. the floor was a confusion of fragments knocked from sarcophagi, which, massive as they were, had been tilted, overturned, uncovered, mutilated, and robbed. useless to inquire whose the vandalism. it may have been of chaldeans of the time of almanezor, or of the greeks who marched with alexander, or of egyptians who were seldom regardful of the dead of the peoples they overthrew as they were of their own, or of saracens, thrice conquerors along the syrian coast, or of christians. few of the crusaders were like st. louis. but of all this the master took no notice. with him it was right that the vault should look the wreck it was. careless of inscriptions, indifferent to carving, his eyes ran rapidly along the foot of the northern wall until they came to a sarcophagus of green marble. thither he proceeded. he laid his hand upon the half-turned lid, and observing that the back of the great box--if such it may be termed--was against the wall, he said again: "no one has been here since"-- and again the sentence was left unfinished. forthwith he became all energy. the negro brought the crowbar, and, by direction, set it under the edge of the sarcophagus, which he held raised while the master blocked it at the bottom with a stone chip. another bite, and a larger chip was inserted. good hold being thus had, a vase was placed for fulcrum; after which, at every downward pressure of the iron, the ponderous coffin swung round a little to the left. slowly and with labor the movement was continued until the space behind was uncovered. by this time the lamps had become the dependencies for light. with his in hand, the master stooped and inspected the exposed wall. involuntarily the slaves bent forward and looked, but saw nothing different from the general surface in that quarter. the master beckoned the negro, and touching a stone not wider than his three fingers, but reddish in hue, and looking like mere chinking lodged in an accidental crevice, signed him to strike it with the end of the bar. once--twice--the stone refused to stir; with the third blow it was driven in out of sight, and, being followed vigorously, was heard to drop on the other side. the wall thereupon, to the height of the sarcophagus and the width of a broad door, broke, and appeared about to tumble down. when the dust cleared away, there was a crevice unseen before, and wide enough to admit a hand. the reader must remember there were masons in the old time who amused themselves applying their mathematics to such puzzles. here obviously the intention had been to screen an entrance to an adjoining chamber, and the key to the design had been the sliver of red granite first displaced. a little patient use then of hand and bar enabled the workman to take out the first large block of the combination. that the master numbered with chalk, and had carefully set aside. a second block was taken out, numbered, and set aside; finally the screen was demolished, and the way stood open. chapter iii the hidden treasure the slaves looked dubiously at the dusty aperture, which held out no invitation to them; the master, however, drew his robe closer about him, and stooping went in, lamp in hand. they then followed. an ascending passage, low but of ample width, received them. it too had been chiselled from the solid rock. the wheel marks of the cars used in the work were still on the floor. the walls were bare but smoothly dressed. altogether the interest here lay in expectation of what was to come; and possibly it was that which made the countenance of the master look so grave and absorbed. he certainly was not listening to the discordant echoes roused as he advanced. the ascent was easy. twenty-five or thirty steps brought them to the end of the passage. they then entered a spacious chamber circular and domed. the light of the lamps was not enough to redeem the ceiling from obscurity; yet the master led without pause to a sarcophagus standing under the centre of the dome, and when he was come there everything else was forgotten by him. the receptacle of the dead thus discovered had been hewn from the rock, and was of unusual proportions. standing broadside to the entrance, it was the height of an ordinary man, and twice as long as high. the exterior had been polished smoothly as the material would allow; otherwise it was of absolute plainness, looking not unlike a dark brown box. the lid was a slab of the finest white marble carven into a perfect model of solomon's temple. while the master surveyed the lid he was visibly affected. he passed the lamp over it slowly, letting the light fall into the courts of the famous building; in like manner he illuminated the corridors, and the tabernacle; and, as he did so, his features trembled and his eyes were suffused. he walked around the exquisite representation several times, pausing now and then to blow away the dust that had in places accumulated upon it. he noticed the effect of the transparent whiteness in the chamber; so in its day the original had lit up the surrounding world. undoubtedly the model had peculiar hold upon his feelings. but shaking the weakness off he after a while addressed himself to work. he had the negro thrust the edge of the bar under the lid, and raise it gently. having thoughtfully provided himself in the antechamber with pieces of stone for the purpose, he placed one of them so as to hold the vantage gained. slowly, then, by working at the ends alternately, the immense slab was turned upon its centre; slowly the hollow of the coffin was flooded with light; slowly, and with seeming reluctance, it gave up its secrets. in strong contrast to the plainness of the exterior, the interior of the sarcophagus was lined with plates and panels of gold, on which there were cartoons chased and beaten in, representing ships, and tall trees, doubtless cedars of lebanon, and masons at work, and two men armed and in royal robes greeting each other with clasped hands; and so beautiful were the cartoons that the eccentric medalleur, cellini, would have studied them long, if not enviously. yet he who now peered into the receptacle scarcely glanced at them. on a stone chair seated was the mummy of a man with a crown upon its head, and over its body, for the most part covering--the linen wrappings, was a robe of threads of gold in ample arrangement. the hands rested on the lap; in one was a sceptre; the other held an inscribed silver tablet. there were rings plain, and rings with jewels in setting, circling the fingers and thumbs; the ears, ankles, even the great toes, were ornamented in like manner. at the feet a sword of the fashion of a cimeter had been laid. the blade was in its scabbard, but the scabbard was a mass of jewels, and the handle a flaming ruby. the belt was webbed with pearls and glistening brilliants. under the sword were the instruments sacred then and ever since to master masons--a square, a gavel, a plummet, and an inscribing compass. the man had been a king--so much the first glance proclaimed. with him, as with his royal brethren from the tombs along the nile, death had asserted itself triumphantly over the embalmer. the cheeks were shrivelled and mouldy; across the forehead the skin was drawn tight; the temples were hollows rimmed abruptly with the frontal bones; the eyes, pits partially filled with dried ointments of a bituminous color. the monarch had yielded his life in its full ripeness, for the white hair and beard still adhered in stiffened plaits to the skull, cheeks, and chin. the nose alone was natural; it stood up thin and hooked, like the beak of an eagle. at sight of the figure thus caparisoned and maintaining its seat in an attitude of calm composure the slaves drew back startled. the negro dropped his iron bar, making the chamber ring with a dissonant clangor. around the mummy in careful arrangement were vessels heaped with coins and pearls and precious stones, cut and ready for the goldsmith. indeed, the whole inner space of the sarcophagus was set with basins and urns, each in itself a work of high art; and if their contents were to be judged by what appeared overflowing them, they all held precious stones of every variety. the corners had been draped with cloths of gold and cloths embroidered with pearls, some of which were now falling to pieces of their own weight. we know that kings and queens are but men and women subject to the same passions of common people; that they are generous or sordid according to their natures; that there have been misers amongst them; but this one--did he imagine he could carry his amassments with him out of the world? had he so loved the gems in his life as to dream he could illumine his tomb with them? if so, o royal idiot! the master, when an opening had been made sufficiently wide by turning the lid upon the edge of the sarcophagus, took off his sandals, gave a foot to one of his slaves, and swung himself into the interior. the lamp was then given him, and he surveyed the wealth and splendor as the king might never again. and as the king in his day had said with exultation, lo! it is all mine, the intruder now asserted title. unable, had he so wished, to carry the whole collection off, he looked around upon this and upon that, determining where to begin. conscious he had nothing to fear, and least of all from the owner in the chair, he was slow and deliberate. from his robe he drew a number of bags of coarse hempen cloth, and a broad white napkin. the latter he spread upon the floor, first removing several of the urns to obtain space; then he emptied one of the vessels upon it, and from the sparkling and varicolored heap before him proceeded to make selection. his judgment was excellent, sure and swift. not seldom he put the large stones aside, giving preference to color and lustre. those chosen he dropped into a bag. when the lot was gone through, he returned the rejected to the vessel, placing it back exactly in its place. then he betook himself to another of the vessels, and then another, until, in course of a couple of hours, he had made choice from the collection, and filled nine bags, and tied them securely. greatly relieved, he arose, rubbed the benumbed joints of his limbs awhile, then passed the packages out to the slaves. the occupation had been wearisome and tensive; but it was finished, and he would now retire. he lingered to give a last look at the interior, muttering the sentence again, and leaving it unfinished as before: "no one has been here since"-- from the face of the king, his eyes fell to the silver tablet in the nerveless hand. moving close, and holding the lamp in convenient position, he knelt and read the inscription. i. "there is but one god, and he was from the beginning, and will be without end. ii. "in my lifetime, i prepared this vault and tomb to receive my body, and keep it safely; yet it may be visited, for the earth and sea are always giving up their secrets. iii. "therefore, o stranger, first to find me, know thou! "that in all my days i kept intercourse with solomon, king of the jews, wisest of men, and the richest and greatest. as is known, he set about building a house to his lord god, resolved that there should be nothing like it in the world, nothing so spacious, so enriched, so perfect in proportions, so in all things becoming the glory of his god. in sympathy with him i gave him of the skill of my people, workers in brass, and silver, and gold, and products of the quarries: and in their ships my sailors brought him the yield of mines from the ends of the earth. at last the house was finished; then he sent me the model of the house, and the coins, and cloths of gold and pearl, and the precious stones, and the vessels holding them, and the other things of value here. ad if, o stranger, thou dost wonder at the greatness of the gift, know thou that it was but a small part of what remained unto him of like kind, for he was master of the earth, and of everything belonging to it which might be of service to him, even the elements and their subtleties. iv. "nor think, o stranger, that i have taken the wealth into the tomb with me, imagining it can serve me in the next life. i store it here because i love him who gave it to me, and am jealous of his love; and that is all. v. "so thou wilt use the wealth in ways pleasing in the sight of the lord god of solomon, my royal friend, take thou of it in welcome. there is no god but his god! "thus say i--hiram, king of tyre." "rest thou thy soul, o wisest of pagan kings," said the master, rising. "being the first to find thee here, and basing my title to thy wealth on that circumstance, i will use it in a way pleasing in the sight of the lord god of solomon. verily, verily, there is no god but his god!" this, then, was the business that brought the man to the tomb of the king whose glory was to have been the friend of solomon. pondering the idea, we begin to realize how vast the latter's fame was; and it ceases to be matter of wonder that his contemporaries, even the most royal, could have been jealous of his love. not only have we the man's business, but it is finished; and judging from the satisfaction discernible on his face as he raised the lamp and turned to depart, the result must have been according to his best hope. he took off his robe, and tossed it to his slaves; then he laid a hand upon the edge of the sarcophagus preparatory to climbing out. at the moment, while giving a last look about him, an emerald, smoothly cut, and of great size, larger indeed than a full-grown pomegranate, caught his eyes in its place loose upon the floor. he turned back, and taking it up, examined it carefully; while thus engaged his glance dropped to the sword almost at his feet. the sparkle of the brilliants, and the fire-flame of the great ruby in the grip, drew him irresistibly, and he stood considering. directly he spoke in a low voice: "no one has been here since"-- he hesitated--glanced hurriedly around to again assure himself it was not possible to be overheard--then finished the sentence: "no one has been here _since i came a thousand years ago_." at the words so strange, so inexplicable upon any theory of nature and common experience, the lamp shook in his hand. involuntarily he shrank from the admission, though to himself. but recovering, he repeated: "since i came a thousand years ago." then he added more firmly: "but the earth and the sea are always giving up their secrets. so saith the good king hiram; and since i am a witness proving the wisdom of the speech, i at least must believe him. wherefore it is for me to govern myself as if another will shortly follow me. the saying of the king is an injunction." with that, he turned the glittering sword over and over admiringly. loath to let it go, he drew the blade partly from the scabbard, and its clearness had the depth peculiar to the sky between stars at night. "is there anything it will not buy," he continued, reflectively. "what king could refuse a sword once solomon's? i will take it." thereupon he passed both the emerald and the sword out to the slaves, whom he presently joined. the conviction, but a moment before expressed, that another would follow him to the tomb of the venerated tyrian, was not strong enough to hinder the master from attempting to hide every sign which might aid in the discovery. the negro, under his direction, returned the lid exactly to its former fitting place on the sarcophagus; the emerald and the sword he wrapped in his gown; the bags and the tools were counted and distributed among the slaves for easy carriage. lamp in hand, he then walked around to see that nothing was left behind. incidentally he even surveyed the brown walls and the dim dome overhead. having reached the certainty that everything was in its former state, he waved his hand, and with one long look backward at the model, ghostly beautiful in its shining white transparency, he led the way to the passage of entrance, leaving the king to his solitude and stately sleep, unmindful of the visitation and the despoilment. out in the large reception room, he paused again to restore the wall. beginning with the insignificant key, one by one the stones, each of which, as we have seen, had been numbered by him, were raised and reset. then handfuls of dust were collected and blown into the slight crevices till they were invisible. the final step was the restoration of the sarcophagus; this done, the gallery leading to the real vault of the king was once more effectually concealed. "he who follows, come he soon or late, must have more than sharp eyes if he would have audience with hiram, my royal friend of tyre," the adventurer said, in his meditative way, feeling at the same time in the folds of his gown for the chart so the object of solicitude on the ship. the roll, the emerald, and the sword were also safe. signing the slaves to remain where they were, he moved slowly across the chamber, and by aid of his lamp surveyed an aperture there so broad and lofty it was suggestive of a gate rather than a door. "it is well," he said, smiling. "the hunter of spoils, hereafter as heretofore, will pass this way instead of the other." the remark was shrewd. probably nothing had so contributed to the long concealment of the gallery just reclosed the second time in a thousand years as the high doorway, with its invitation to rooms beyond it, all now in iconoclastic confusion. rejoining his workmen, he took a knife from the girdle of one of them, and cut a slit in the gurglet large enough to admit the bags of precious stones. the skin was roomy, and received them, though with the loss of much of the water. having thus disposed of that portion of the plunder to the best advantage both for portage and concealment, he helped swing it securely upon the negro's shoulder, and without other delay led from the chamber to the great outdoors, where the lamps were extinguished. the pure sweet air, as may be imagined, was welcome to every one. while the slaves stood breathing it in wholesome volumes, the master studied the stars, and saw the night was not so far gone but that, with industry, the sea-shore could be made in time for the ship. still pursuing the policy of hiding the road to the tomb much as possible, he waited while the men covered the entrance as before with stones brought up from the bank. a last survey of the face of the rock, minute as the starlight allowed, reassured him that, as to the rest of the world, the treasure might remain with its ancient owner undisturbed for yet another thousand years, if not forever; after which, in a congratulatory mood, he descended the mountain side to the place of bivouac, and thence in good time, and without adventure, arrived at the landing by the sea. there the negro, wading far out, flung the tools into the water. in the appointed time the galley came down from the city, and, under impulsion of the oars, disappeared with the party up the coast northward. the negro unrolled the pallet upon the deck, and brought some bread, smyrna figs, and wine of prinkipo, and the four ate and drank heartily. the skipper was then summoned. "you have done well, my friend," said the master. "spare not sail or oar now, but make byzantium without looking into any wayside port. i will increase your pay in proportion as you shorten the time we are out. look to it--go--and speed you." afterward the slaves in turn kept watch while he slept. and though the coming and going of sailors was frequent, not one of them noticed the oil-stained water-skin cast carelessly near the master's pillow, or the negro's shaggy half-cloak, serving as a wrap for the roll, the emerald, and the sword once solomon's. the run of the galley from the nameless bay near sidon was without stop or so much as a headwind. always the blue sky above the deck, and the blue sea below. in daytime the master passenger would occasionally pause in his walk along the white planks, and, his hand on the gunwale, give a look at some of the landmarks studding the ancient cycladean sea, an island here, or a tall promontory of the continent yonder, possibly an olympian height faintly gray in the vaster distance. his manner at such moments did not indicate a traveller new to the highway. a glance at the points such as business men closely pressed give the hands on the face of a clock to determine the minute of the hour, and he would resume walking. at night he slept right soundly. from the dardanelles into the hellespont; then the marmora. the captain would have coasted, but the passenger bade him keep in the open. "there is nothing to fear from the weather," he said, "but there is time to be saved." in an afternoon they sighted the great stones oxia and plati; the first, arid and bare as a gray egg, and conical like an irregular pyramid; the other, a plane on top, with verdure and scattering trees. a glance at the map shows them the most westerly group of the isles of the princes. now nature is sometimes stupid, sometimes whimsical, doing unaccountable things. one gazing at the other isles of the group from a softly rocking caique out a little way on the sea divines instantly that she meant them for summer retreats, but these two, oxia and plati, off by themselves, bleak in winter, apparently always ready for spontaneous combustion in the heated months, for what were they designed? no matter--uses were found for them--fitting uses. eremites in search of the hardest, grimmest places, selected oxia, and pecking holes and caves in its sides, shared the abodes thus laboriously won with cormorants, the most gluttonous of birds. in time a rude convent was built near the summit. on the other hand, plati was converted into a gehenna for criminals, and in the vats and dungeons with which it was provided, lives were spent weeping for liberty. on this isle, tears and curses; on that, tears and prayers. at sundown the galley was plying its oars between oxia and the european shore about where st. stephano is now situated. the dome of sta. sophia was in sight; behind it, in a line to the northwest, arose the tower of galata. "home by lamplighting--blessed be the virgin!" the mariners said to each other piously. but no! the master passenger sent for the captain. "i do not care to get into harbor before morning. the night is delicious, and i will try it in the small boat. i was once a rower, and yet have a fancy for the oars. do thou lay off and on hereabouts. put two lamps at the masthead that i may know thy vessel when i desire to return. now get out the boat." the captain thought his voyager queer of taste; nevertheless he did as told. in a short time the skiff--if the familiar word can be pardoned--put off with the negro and his master, the latter at the oars. in preparation for the excursion the gurglet half full of water and the sheepskin mantle of the black man were lowered into the little vessel. the boat moved away in the direction of prinkipo, the mother isle of the group; and as the night deepened, it passed from view. when out of sight from the galley's deck, the master gave the rowing to the negro, and taking seat by the rudder, changed direction to the southeast; after which he kept on and on, until plati lay directly in his course. the southern extremity of plati makes quite a bold bluff. in a period long gone a stone tower had been constructed there, a lookout and shelter for guardsmen on duty; and there being no earthly chance of escape for prisoners, so securely were they immured, the duty must have been against robbers from the mainland on the east, and from pirates generally. under the tower there was a climb difficult for most persons in daylight, and from the manoeuvring of the boat, the climb was obviously the object drawing the master. he at length found it, and stepped out on a shelving stone. the gurglet and mantle were passed to him, and soon he and his follower were feeling their way upward. on the summit, the chief walked once around the tower, now the merest ruin, a tumbledown without form, in places overgrown with sickly vines. rejoining his attendant, and staying a moment to thoroughly empty the gurglet of water, on his hands and knees he crawled into a passage much obstructed by debris. the negro waited outside. the master made two trips; the first one, he took the gurglet in; the second, he took the mantle wrapping the sword. at the end, he rubbed his hands in self-congratulation. "they are safe--the precious stones of hiram, and the sword of solomon! three other stores have i like this one--in india, in egypt, in jerusalem--and there is the tomb by sidon. oh, i shall not come to want!" and he laughed well pleased. the descent to the small boat was effected without accident. next morning toward sunrise the passengers disembarked at port st. peter on the south side of the golden horn. a little later the master was resting at home in byzantium. within three days the mysterious person whom we, wanting his proper name and title, have termed the master, had sold his house and household effects. in the night of the seventh day, with his servants, singular in that all of them were deaf and dumb, he went aboard ship, and vanished down the marmora, going no one but himself knew whither. the visit to the tomb of the royal friend of solomon had evidently been to provide for the journey; and that he took precious stones in preference to gold and silver signified a journey indefinite as to time and place. book ii the prince of india chapter i a messenger from cipango just fifty-three years after the journey to the tomb of the syrian king--more particularly on the fifteenth day of may, fourteen hundred and forty-eight--a man entered one of the stalls of a market in constantinople--to-day the market would be called a bazaar--and presented a letter to the proprietor. the israelite thus honored delayed opening the linen envelope while he surveyed the messenger. the liberty, it must be remarked, was not a usual preliminary in the great city, the cosmopolitanism of which had been long established; that is to say, a face, a figure, or a mode, to gain a second look from one of its denizens, had then, as it has now, to be grossly outlandish. in this instance the owner of the stall indulged a positive stare. he had seen, he thought, representatives of all known nationalities, but never one like the present visitor--never one so pinkish in complexion, and so very bias-eyed--never one who wrapped and re-wrapped himself in a single shawl so entirely, making it answer all the other vestments habitual to men. the latter peculiarity was more conspicuous in consequence of a sack of brown silk hanging loosely from the shoulder, with leaves and flowers done in dazzling embroidery down the front and around the edges. and then the slippers were of silk not less rich with embroidery, while over the bare head a sunshade of bamboo and paper brilliantly painted was carried. too well bred to persist in the stare or attempt to satisfy his curiosity by a direct question, the proprietor opened the letter, and began reading it. his neighbors less considerate ran together, and formed a crowd around the stranger, who nevertheless bore the inspection composedly, apparently unconscious of anything to make him such a cynosure. the paper which the removal of the envelope gave to the stall-keeper's hand excited him the more. the delicacy of its texture, its softness to the touch, its semi-transparency, were unlike anything he had ever seen; it was not only foreign, but very foreign. the lettering, however, was in greek plainly done. he noticed first the date; then, his curiosity becoming uncontrollable, and the missive being of but one sheet, his eyes dropped to the place of signature. there was no name there--only a seal--an impression on a surface of yellow wax of the drooping figure of a man bound to a cross. [illustration] at sight of the seal his eyes opened wider. he drew a long breath to quiet a rising feeling, half astonishment, half awe. retreating to a bench near by, he seated himself, and presently became unmindful of the messenger, of the crowd, of everything, indeed, except the letter and the matters of which it treated. the demand of the reader for a sight of the paper which could produce such an effect upon a person who was not more than an ordinary dealer in an eastern market may by this time have become imperious; wherefore it is at once submitted in free translation. only the date is modernized. "island in the over-sea. far east. _may_ , a.d. . "uel, son of jahdai. "peace to thee and all thine! "if thou hast kept faithfully the heirlooms of thy progenitors, somewhere in thy house there is now a duplication of the seal which thou wilt find hereto attached; only that one is done in gold. the reference is to prove to thee a matter i am pleased to assert, knowing it will at least put thee upon inquiry--i knew thy father, thy grandfather, and his father, and others of thy family further back than it is wise for me to declare; and i loved them, for they were a virtuous and goodly race, studious to do the will of the lord god of israel, and acknowledging no other; therein manifesting the chiefest of human excellences. to which, as more directly personal to thyself, i will add that qualities of men, like qualities in plants, are transmissible, and go they unmixed through many generations, they make a kind. therefore, at this great distance, and though i have never looked into thy face, or touched thy hand, or heard thy voice, i know thee, and give thee trust confidently. the son of thy father cannot tell the world what he has of me here, or that there is a creature like unto me living, or that he has to do with me in the least; and as the father would gladly undertake my requests, even those i now reveal unto thee, not less willingly will his son undertake them. refusal would be the first step toward betrayal. "with this preface, o son of jahdai, i write without fear, and freely; imparting, first, that it is now fifty years since i set foot upon the shores of this island, which, for want of a name likely to be known to thee, i have located and described as 'in the over-sea. far east.' its people are by nature kindly disposed to strangers, and live simply and affectionately. though they never heard of the nazarene whom the world persists in calling the christ, it is truth to say they better illustrate his teachings, especially in their dealings with each other, than the so-called christians amongst whom thy lot is cast. withal, however, i have become weary, the fault being more in myself than in them. desire for change is the universal law. only god is the same yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow eternally. so i am resolved to seek once more the land of our fathers and jerusalem, for which i yet have tears. in her perfection, she was more than beautiful; in her ruin, she is more than sacred. "in the execution of my design, know thou next, o son of jahdai, that i despatch my servant, syama, intrusting him to deliver this letter. when it is put into thy hand, note the day, and see if it be not exactly one year from this may, the time i have given him to make the journey, which is more by sea than land. thou mayst then know i am following him, though with stoppages of uncertain duration; it being necessary for me to cross from india to mecca; thence to kash-cush, and down the nile to cairo. nevertheless i hope to greet thee in person within six months after syama hath given thee this report. "the sending a courier thus in advance is with a design of which i think it of next importance to inform thee. "it is my purpose to resume residence in constantinople; for that, i must have a house. syama, amongst other duties in my behalf, is charged to purchase and furnish one, and have it ready to receive me when i arrive. the day is long passed since a khan had attractions for me. much more agreeable is it to think my own door will open instantly at my knock. in this affair thou canst be of service which shall be both remembered and gratefully recompensed. he hath no experience in the matter of property in thy city; thou hast; it is but natural, therefore, if i pray thou bring it into practice by assisting him in the selection, in perfecting the title, and in all else the project may require doing; remembering only that the tenement be plain and comfortable, not rich; for, alas! the time is not yet when the children of israel may live conspicuously in the eye of the christian world. "thou wilt find syama shrewd and of good judgment, older than he seemeth, and quick to render loyalty for my sake. be advised also that he is deaf and dumb; yet, if in speaking thou turn thy face to him, and use the greek tongue, he will understand thee by the motion of thy lips, and make answer by signs. "finally, be not afraid to accept this commission on account of pecuniary involvement. syama hath means of procuring all the money he may require, even to extravagance; at the same time he is forbidden to contract a debt, except it be to thee for kindness done, all which he will report to me so i may pay them fitly. "in all essential things syama hath full instructions; besides, he is acquainted with my habits and tastes; wherefore i conclude this writing by saying i hope thou wilt render him aid as indicated, and that when i come thou wilt allow me to relate myself to thee as father to son, in all things a help, in nothing a burden. "again, o son of jahdai, to thee and thine--peace!" [seal.] the son of jahdai, at the conclusion of the reading, let his hands fall heavily in his lap, while he plunged into a study which the messenger with his foreign airs could not distract. very great distance is one of the sublimities most powerful over the imagination. the letter had come from an island he had never heard named. an island in the over-sea which doubtless washed the eastern end of the earth, wherever that might be. and the writer! how did he get there? and what impelled him to go? a chill shot the thinker's nerves. he suddenly remembered that in his house there was a cupboard in a wall, with two shelves devoted to storage of heirlooms; on the upper shelf lay the _torah_ of immemorial usage in his family; the second contained cups of horn and metal, old phylacteries, amulets, and things of vertu in general, and of such addition and multiplication through the ages that he himself could not have made a list of them; in fact, now his attention was aroused, he recalled them a mass of colorless and formless objects which had ceased to have history or value. amongst them, however, a seal in the form of a medallion in gold recurred to him; but whether the impression upon it was raised or sunken he could not have certainly said; nor could he have told what the device was. his father and grandfather had esteemed it highly, and the story they told him about it divers times when he was a child upon their knees he could repeat quite substantially. a man committed an indignity to jesus the pretended _christ_, who, in punishment, condemned him to linger on the earth until in the fulness of time he should come again; and the man had gone on living through the centuries. both the father and grandfather affirmed the tale to be true; they had known the unfortunate personally; yet more, they declared he had been an intimate of the family, and had done its members through generations friendlinesses without number; in consequence they had come to consider him one of them in love. they had also said that to their knowledge it was his custom to pray for death regularly as the days came and went. he had repeatedly put himself in its way; yet curiously it passed him by, until he at last reached a conviction he could not die. many years had gone since the stall-keeper last heard the tale, and still more might have been counted since the man disappeared, going no one knew whither. but he was not dead! he was coming again! it was too strange to believe! it could not be! yet one thing was clear--whatever the messenger might be, or presuming him a villain, whatever the lie he thought to make profitable, appeal could be safely and cheaply made to the seal in the cupboard. as a witness it, too, was deaf and dumb; on its face nevertheless there was revelation and the truth. through the momentary numbness of his faculties so much the son of jahdai saw, and he did not wait. signing the messenger to follow, he passed into a closet forming part of the stall, and the two being alone, he spoke in greek. "be thou seated here," he said, "and wait till i return." the messenger smiled and bowed, and took seat; thereupon uel drew his turban down to his ears, and, letter in hand, started home. his going was rapid; sometimes he almost ran. acquaintances met him on the street, but he did not see them; if they spoke to him, he did not hear. arrived at his own door, he plunged into the house as if a mob were at his heels. now he was before the cupboard! little mercy the phylacteries and amulets, the bridle-spanglery of donkeys, the trinketry of women, his ancestresses once famous for beauty or many children--little mercy the motley collection on the second shelf received from his hands. he tossed them here and there, and here and there again, but the search was vain. ah, good lord! was the medalet lost? and of all times, then? the failure made him the more anxious; his hands shook while he essayed the search once more; and he reproached himself. the medal was valuable for its gold, and besides it was a sacred souvenir. conscience stung him. over and over he shifted and turned the various properties on the shelf, the last time systematically and with fixed attention. when he stopped to rest, the perspiration stood on his forehead in large drops, and he fairly wrung his hands, crying, "it is not here--it is lost! my god, how shall i know the truth now!" at this pause it is to be said that the son of jahdai was wifeless. the young woman whom he had taken as helpmeet in dying had left him a girl baby who, at the time of our writing, was about thirteen years old. under the necessity thus imposed, he found a venerable daughter of jerusalem to serve him as housekeeper, and charge herself with care of the child. now he thought of that person; possibly she knew where the seal was. he turned to seek her, and as he did so, the door of an adjoining room opened, and the child appeared. he held her very dear, because she had the clear olive complexion of her mother, and the same soft black eyes with which the latter used to smile upon him in such manner that words were never required to assure him of her love. and the little one was bright and affectionate, and had prettinesses in speech, and sang low and contentedly the day long. often as he took her on his lap and studied her fondly, he was conscious she promised to be gentle and beautiful as the departed one; beyond which it never occurred to him there could be superior excellences. distressed as the poor man was, he took the child in his arms, and kissed her on the round cheek, and was putting her down when he saw the medal at her throat, hanging from a string. she told him the housekeeper had given it to her as a plaything. untied at last--for his impatience was nigh uncontrollable--he hurried with the recovered treasure to a window, to look at the device raised upon it; then, his heart beating rapidly, he made comparison with the impression sunk in the yellow wax at the foot of the letter; he put them side by side--there could be no mistake--the impression on the wax might have been made by the medallion! let it not be supposed now that the son of jahdai did not appreciate the circumstance which had befallen. the idea of a man suffering a doom so strange affected him, while the doom itself, considered as a judgment, was simply awful; but his thought did not stop there--it carried him behind both the man and the doom. who was he with power by a word, not merely to change the most fixed of the decrees of nature, but, by suspending it entirely, hold an offending wretch alive for a period already encroaching upon the eternal? one less firmly rooted in the faith of his fathers would have stood aghast at the conclusion to which the answer as an argument led--a conclusion admitting no escape once it was reached. the affair in hand, however, despite its speculative side, was real and urgent; and the keeper of the stall, remembering the messenger in half imprisonment, fell to thinking of the practical questions before him; first of which was the treatment he should accord his correspondent's requests. this did not occupy him long. his father, he reflected, would have received the stranger cordially, and as became one of such close intimacy; so should he. the requests were easy, and carried no pecuniary liability with them; he was merely to aid an inexperienced servant in the purchase of a dwelling-house, the servant having plenty of funds. true, when the master presented himself in person, it would be necessary to determine exactly the footing to be accorded him; but for the present that might be deferred. if, in the connection, the son of jahdai dwelt briefly upon possible advantages to himself, the person being presumably rich and powerful, it was human, and he is to be excused for it. the return to the market was less hurried than the going from it. there uel acted promptly. he took syama to his house, and put him into the guest-chamber, assuring him it was a pleasure. yet when night came he slept poorly. the incidents of the day were mixed with much that was unaccountable, breaking the even tenor of his tradesman's life by unwonted perplexities. he had not the will to control his thoughts; they would go back to the excitement of the moment when he believed the medallion lost; and as points run together in the half-awake state on very slender threads, he had a vision of a mysterious old man coming into his house, and in some way taking up and absorbing the life of his child. when the world at last fell away and left him asleep, it was with a dread tapping heavily at his heart. the purchase which uel was requested to assist in making proved a light affair. after diligent search through the city, syama decided to take a two-story house situated in a street running along the foot of the hill to-day crowned by the mosque sultan selim, although it was then the site of an unpretentious christian church. besides a direct eastern frontage, it was in the divisional margin between the quarters of the greeks, which were always clean, and those of the jews, which were always filthy. it was also observed that neither the hill nor the church obstructed the western view from the roof; that is to say, it was so far around the upper curve of the hill that a thistle-down would be carried by a south-east wind over many of the proudest greek residences and dropped by the church of the holy virgin on blacherne, or in the imperial garden behind the church. in addition to these advantages, the son of jahdai was not unmindful that his own dwelling, a small but comfortable structure also of wood, was just opposite across the street. everything considered, the probabilities were that syama's selection would prove satisfactory to his master. the furnishment was a secondary matter. it is to be added that in course of the business there were two things from which uel extracted great pleasure; syama always had money to pay promptly for everything he bought; in the next place, communication with him was astonishingly easy. his eyes made up for the deficiency in hearing; while his signs, gestures, and looks were the perfection of pantomime. of evenings the child never tired watching him in conversation. while we go now to bring the wanderer up, it should not be forgotten that the house, completely furnished, is awaiting him, and he has only to knock at the door, enter, and be at home. chapter ii the pilgrim at el katif the bay of bahrein indents the western shore of the persian gulf. hard by the point on the north at which it begins its inland bend rise the whitewashed, one-story mud-houses of the town el katif. belonging to the arabs, the most unchangeable of peoples, both the town and the bay were known in the period of our story by their present names. the old town in the old time derived importance chiefly from the road which, leading thence westwardly through hejr yemameh, brought up, after many devious stretches across waterless wastes of sand, at el derayeh, a tented capital of the bedouins, and there forked, one branch going to medina, the other to mecca. in other words, el katif was to mecca on the east the gate jeddo was to it on the west. when, in annual recurrence, the time for the indispensable hajj, or pilgrimage, came, the name of the town was on the lips of men and women beyond the green sea, and southwardly along the coast of oman, and in the villages and dowars back of the coast under the peaks of akdar, only a little less often than those of the holy cities. then about the first of july the same peoples as pilgrims from irak, afghanistan, india, and beyond those countries even, there being an east and a far east, and pilgrims from arabia, crowded together, noisy, quarrelsome, squalid, accordant in but one thing--a determination to make the hajj lest they might die as jews or christians. the law required the pilgrim to be at mecca in the month of ramazan, the time the prophet himself had become a pilgrim. from el katif the direct journey might be made in sixty days, allowing an average march of twelve miles. by way of medina, it could be made to permit the votary to be present and participate in the observances usual on the day of the mysterious night of destiny. the journey moreover was attended with dangers. winds, drouth, sand storms beset the way; and there were beasts always hungry, and robbers always watchful. the sun beat upon the hills, curtained the levels with mirage, and in the _fiumuras_ kindled invisible fires; so in what the unacclimated breathed and in what they drank of the waters of the land there were diseases and death. the prophet having fixed the month of ramazan for the hajj, pilgrims accustomed themselves to assemblage at constantinople, damascus, cairo and bagdad. if they could not avoid the trials of the road, they could lessen them. borrowing the term caravan as descriptive of the march, they established markets at all convenient places. this is the accounting for one of the notable features of el katif from the incoming of june till the caravan extended itself on the road, and finally disappeared in the yellow farness of the desert. one could not go amiss for purveyors in general. dealers in horses, donkeys, camels, and dromedaries abounded. the country for miles around appeared like a great stock farm. herds overran the lean earth. makers of harness, saddles, box-houdahs, and swinging litters of every variety and price, and contractors of camels, horses, and trains complete did not wait to be solicited; the competition between them was too lively for dignity. hither and thither shepherds drove fatted sheep in flocks, selling them on the hoof. in shady places sandal merchants and clothiers were established; while sample tents spotted the whole landscape. hucksters went about with figs, dates, dried meats and bread. in short, pilgrims could be accommodated with every conceivable necessary. they had only to cry out, and the commodity was at hand. amongst the thousands who arrived at el katif in the last of june, , was a man whose presence made him instantly an object of general interest. he came from the south in a galley of eight oars manned by indian seamen, and lay at anchor three days before landing. his ship bore nothing indicative of nationality except the sailors. she was trim-looking and freshly painted; otherwise there was nothing uncommon in her appearance. she was not for war--that was plain. she floated too lightly to be laden; wherefore those who came to look at her said she could not be in commercial service. almost before furling sail, an awning was stretched over her from bow to stern--an awning which from the shore appeared one great shawl of variegated colors. thereupon the wise in such matters decided the owner was an indian prince vastly rich, come, like a good mohammedan, to approve his faith by pilgrimage. this opinion the stranger's conduct confirmed. while he did not himself appear ashore, he kept up a busy communication by means of his small boat. for three days, it carried contractors of camels and supplies aboard, and brought them back. they described him of uncertain age; he might be sixty, he might be seventy-five. while rather under medium height, he was active and perfectly his own master. he sat in the shade of the awning cross-legged. his rug was a marvel of sheeny silk. he talked arabic, but with an indian accent. his dress was indian--a silken shirt, a short jacket, large trousers, and a tremendous white turban on a red tarbousche, held by an aigrette in front that was a dazzle of precious stones such as only a rajah could own. his attendants were few, but they were gorgeously attired, wore _shintyan_ swung in rich belts from their shoulders, and waited before him speechless and in servile posture. one at his back upheld an umbrella of immense spread. he indulged few words, and they were strictly business. he wanted a full outfit for the hajj; could the contractor furnish him twenty camels of burden, and four swift dromedaries? two of the latter were to carry a litter for himself; the other two were for his personal attendants, whom he desired furnished with well-shaded _shugdufs_. the camels he would load with provisions. while speaking, he would keep his eyes upon the person addressed with an expression uncomfortably searching. most extraordinary, however, he did not once ask about prices. one of the shaykhs ventured an inquiry. "how great will his highness' suite be?" "four." the shaykh threw up his hands. "o allah! four dromedaries and twenty camels for four men!" "abuser of the salt," said the stranger calmly, "hast thou not heard of the paschal charity, and of the fine to the poor? shall i go empty handed to the most sacred of cities?" finally an agent was found who, in concert with associates, undertook to furnish the high votary with all he asked complete. the morning of the fourth day after his arrival the indian was pulled ashore, and conducted out of town a short distance to where, on a rising ground, a camp had been set up provisionally for his inspection. there were tents, one for storage of goods and provisions; one for the suite; one for the chief shaykh, the armed guards, the tent pitchers, and the camel drivers; and a fourth one, larger than the others, for the prince himself. with the dromedaries, camels, and horses, the camp was accepted; then, as was the custom, the earnest money was paid. by set of sun the baggage was removed from the ship, and its partition into cargoes begun. the prince of india had no difficulty in hiring all the help he required. of the thirty persons who constituted the train ten were armed horsemen, whose appearance was such that, if it were answered by a commensurate performance, the prince might at his leisure march irrespective of the caravan. nor was he unmindful in the selection of stores for the journey. long before the sharp bargainers with whom he dealt were through with him, he had won their best opinion, not less by his liberality than for his sound judgment. they ceased speaking of him sneeringly as the _miyan_. [footnote: barbarous indian] soon as the bargain was bound, the stranger's attendants set about the furnishment of the master's tent. outside they painted it green. the interior they divided into two equal compartments; one for reception, the other for a _maglis_ or drawing-room; and besides giving the latter divans and carpets, they draped the ceiling in the most tasteful manner with the shawls which on the ship had served for awning. at length, everything in the catalogue of preparation having been attended to, it remained only to wait the day of general departure; and for that, as became his greatness, the prince kept his own quarters, paying no attention to what went on around him. he appeared a man who loved solitude, and was averse to thinking in public. chapter iii the yellow air [footnote: the plague is known amongst arabs as "the yellow air."] one evening the reputed indian sat by the door of his tent alone. the red afterglow of the day hung in the western sky. overhead the stars were venturing timidly out. the camels were at rest, some chewing their cuds, others asleep, their necks stretched full length upon the warm earth. the watchmen in a group talked in low voices. presently the cry of a muezzin, calling to prayer, flew in long, quavering, swelling notes through the hushed air. others took up the call, clearer or fainter according to the distance; and so was it attuned to the feeling invoked by the conditions of the moment that no effort was required of a listener to think it a refrain from the sky. the watchmen ceased debating, drew a little apart from each other, spread their _abbas_ on the ground, and stepping upon them barefooted, their faces turned to where mecca lay, began the old unchangeable prayer of islam--_god is god, and mahomet is his prophet_. the pilgrim at the tent door arose, and when his rude employes were absorbed in their devotions, like them, he too prayed, but very differently. "god of israel--my god!" he said, in a tone hardly more than speaking to himself. "these about me, my fellow creatures, pray thee in the hope of life, i pray thee in the hope of death. i have come up from the sea, and the end was not there; now i will go into the desert in search of it. or if i must live, lord, give me the happiness there is in serving thee. thou hast need of instruments of good; let me henceforth be one of them, that by working for thy honor, i may at last enjoy the peace of the blessed--amen." timing his movements with those of the watchmen, he sank to his knees, and repeated the prayer; when they fell forward, their faces to the earth in the _rik'raths_ so essential by the mohammedan code, he did the same. when they were through the service, he went on with it that they might see him. a careful adherence to this conduct gained him in a short time great repute for sanctity, making the pilgrimage enjoyable as well as possible to him. the evening afterglow faded out, giving the world to night and the quiet it affects; still the melancholy indian walked before his tent, his hands clasped behind him, his chin in the beard on his breast. let us presume to follow his reflections. "fifty years! a lifetime to all but me. lord, how heavy is thy hand when thou art in anger!" he drew a long breath, and groaned. "fifty years! that they are gone, let those mourn to whom time is measured in scanty dole." he became retrospective. "the going to cipango was like leaving the world. war had yielded to contentions about religion. i wearied of them also. my curse is to weary of everything. i wonder if the happiness found in the affection of women is more lasting?" he pursued the thought awhile, finishing with a resolution. "if the opportunity comes my way, i will try it. i remember yet the mother of my lael, though i did not understand the measure of the happiness she brought me until she died." he returned then to the first subject. "when will men learn that faith is a natural impulse, and pure religion but faith refined of doubt?" the question was succeeded by a wordless lapse in his mind, the better apparently to prolong the pleasure he found in the idea. "god help me," he presently resumed, "to bring about an agreement in that definition of religion! there can be no reform or refinement of faith except god be its exclusive subject; and so certainly it leads to lopping off all parasitical worships such as are given to christ and mahomet.... fifty years ago the sects would have tortured me had i mentioned god as a principle broad and holy enough for them to stand upon in compromise of their disputes; they may not be better disposed now, yet i will try them. if i succeed i will not be a vulgar monument builder like alexander; neither will i divide a doubtful fame with caesar. my glory will be unique. i will have restored mankind to their true relations with god. i will be their arbiter in religion. then surely"--he lifted his face appealingly as to a person enthroned amidst the stars--"surely thou wilt release me from this too long life.... if i fail"--he clinched his hands--"if i fail, they may exile me, they may imprison me, they may stretch me on the rack, but they cannot kill me." then he walked rapidly, his head down, like a man driven. when he stopped it was to say to himself uncertainly: "i feel weak at heart. misgivings beset me. lord, lord, how long am i to go on thus cheating myself? if thou wilt not pardon me, how can i hope honor from my fellow men? why should i struggle to serve them?" again he clinched his hands. "oh, the fools, the fools! will they never be done? when i went away they were debating, was mahomet a prophet? was christ the messiah? and they are debating yet. what miseries i have seen come of the dispute!" from this to the end, the monologue was an incoherent discursive medley, now plaintive, now passionate, at times prayerful, then exultant. as he proceeded, he seemed to lose sight of his present aim at doing good in the hope of release from termless life, and become the jew he was born. "the orators called in the sword, and they plied each other with it through two hundred years and more. there were highways across europe blazoned with corpses.... but they were great days. i remember them. remember manuel's appeal to gregory. i was present at the council of clermont. i heard urban's speech. i saw walter, the beggar of burgundy, a fugitive in constantinople; but his followers, those who went out with him--where were they? i saw peter, the eremite and coward, dragged back, a deserter, to the plague-smitten camps of antioch. i helped vote godfrey king of jerusalem, and carried a candle at his coronation. i saw the hosts of louis vii and conrad, a million and more, swallowed up in iconia and the pisidian mountains. then, that the persecutors of my race might not have rest, i marched with saladin to the re-conquest of the holy city, and heard philip and richard answer his challenge. the brave kurd, pitying the sorrows of men, at last agreed to tolerate christians in jerusalem as pilgrims; and there the strife might have ended, but i played upon the ambition of baldwin, and set europe in motion again. no fault of mine that the knight stopped at constantinople as king of the east. then the second frederick presumed to make a christian city of jerusalem. i resorted to the turks, and they burned and pillaged it, and captured st. louis, the purest and best of the crusaders. he died in my arms. never before had i a tear for man or woman of his faith! then came edward i., and with him the struggle as a contest of armies terminated. by decision of the sword, mahomet _was_ the prophet of god, and christ but the carpenter's son.... by permission of the kaliphs, the christians might visit jerusalem as pilgrims. a palmer's staff in place of a sword! for shield, a beggar's scrip! but the bishops accepted, and then ushered in an age of fraud, christian against christian.... the knoll on which the byzantine built his church of the holy sepulchre is not the calvary. that the cowled liars call the sepulchre never held the body of christ. the tears of the millions of penitents have but watered a monkish deceit.... fools and blasphemers! the via dolorosa led out of the damascus gate on the north. the skull-shaped hill beyond that gate is the golgotha. who should know it better than i? the centurion asked for a guide; i walked with him. hyssop was the only green thing growing upon the mount; nothing but hyssop has grown there since. at the base on the west was a garden, and the sepulchre was in the garden. from the foot of the cross i looked toward the city, and there was a sea of men extending down to the gate.... i know!--i know!--i and misery know!... when i went out fifty years ago there was an agreement between the ancient combatants; each vied with the other in hating and persecuting the jew, and there was no limit to the afflictions he endured from them.... speak thou, o hebron, city of the patriarchs! by him who sits afar, and by him near unto thee, by the stars this peaceful night, and by the everlasting who is above the stars, be thou heard a witness testifying! there was a day when thou didst stand open to the children of israel; for the cave and the dead within it belonged to them. then herod built over it, and shut it up, though without excluding the tribes. the christian followed herod; yet the hebrew might pay his way in. after the christian, the moslem; and now nor david the king, nor son of his, though they alighted at the doors from chariots, and beat upon them with their crowns and sceptres, could pass in and live.... kings have come and gone, and generations, and there is a new map from which old names have been dropped. as respects religion, alas! the divisions remain--here a mohammedan, there a christian, yonder a judean.... from my door i study these men, the children of those in life at my going into exile. their ardor is not diminished. to kiss a stone in which tradition has planted a saying of god, they will defy the terrors of the desert, heat, thirst, famine, disease, death. i bring them an old idea in a new relation--god, giver of life and power to son and prophet--god, alone entitled to worship--god, a principle of supreme holiness to which believers can bring their creeds and doctrines for mergence in a treaty of universal brotherhood. will they accept it? ... yesterday i saw a schiah and a sunite meet, and the old hate darkened their faces as they looked at each other. between them there is only a feud of islamites; how much greater is their feud with christians? how immeasurably greater the feud between christian and jew? ... my heart misgives me! lord! can it be i am but cherishing a dream?" at sight of a man approaching through the dusk, he calmed himself. "peace to thee, hadji," said the visitor, halting. "is it thou, shaykh?" "it is i, my father's son. i have a report to make." "i was thinking of certain holy things of priceless worth, sayings of the prophet. tell me what thou hast?" the shaykh saluted him, and returned, "the caravan will depart to-morrow at sunrise." "be it so. we are ready. i will designate our place in the movement. thou art dismissed." "o prince! i have more to report." "more?" "a vessel came in to-day from hormuz on the eastern shore, bringing a horde of beggars." "bismillah! it was well i hired of thee a herd of camels, and loaded them with food. i shall pay my fine to the poor early." the shaykh shook his head. "that they are beggars is nothing," he said. "allah is good to all his creatures. the jackals are his, and must be fed. for this perhaps the unfortunates were blown here by the angel that rides the yellow air. four corpses were landed, and their clothes sold in the camp." "thou wouldst say," the prince rejoined, "that the plague will go with us to the kaaba. content thee, shaykh. allah will have his way." "but my men are afraid." "i will place a drop of sweetened water on their lips, and bring them safe through, though they are dying. tell them as much." the shaykh was departing when the prince, shrewdly suspecting it was he who feared, called him back. "how call ye the afternoon prayer, o shaykh?" "el asr." "what didst thou when it was called?" "am i not a believer? i prayed." "and thou hast heard the arafat sermon?" "even so, o prince." "then, as thou art a believer, and a hadji, o shaykh, thou and all with thee shalt see the khatib on his dromedary, and hear him again. only promise me to stay till his last _amin_." "i promise," said the shaykh, solemnly. "go--but remember prayer is the bread of faith." the shaykh was comforted, and withdrew. with the rising of the sun next day the caravan, numbering about three thousand souls, defiled confusedly out of the town. the prince, who might have been first, of choice fell in behind the rest. "why dost thou take this place, o prince?" asked the shaykh, who was proud of his company, and their comparative good order. he received for answer, "the blessings of allah are with the dying whom the well-to-do and selfish in front have passed unnoticed." the shaykh repeated the saying to his men, and they replied: "ebn-hanife was a dervish: so is this prince--exalted be his name!" eulogy could go no further. chapter iv el zaribah "i will be their arbiter in religion," said the indian mystic in his monologue. this is to be accepted as the motive of the scheme the singular man was pursuing in the wastes of arabia. it must be taken of course with his other declaration--"there can be no reform or refinement of faith except god be its exclusive subject; and so certainly it leads to lopping off all parasitical worships such as are given to christ and mahomet." fifty years prior, disgusted with the endless and inconsequential debates and wars between islam and christianity, he had betaken himself to cipango, [footnote: supposably japan.] wherever that might be. there, in a repentant hour, he had conceived the idea of a universal religious brotherhood, with god for its accordant principle; and he was now returned to present and urge the compromise. in more distinct statement, he was making the pilgrimage to ascertain from personal observation if the mohammedan portion of the world was in a consenting mood. it was not his first visit to mecca; but the purpose in mind gave the journey a new zest; and, as can be imagined, nothing in the least indicative of the prevalent spirit of the hajj escaped him. readers following the narrative should keep this explanation before them. from el derayah the noble pilgrim had taken the longer route by way of medina, where he scrupulously performed the observances decreed for the faithful at the mosque of the prophet. thence he descended with the caravan from damascus. dawn of the sixth of september broke over the rolling plain known as the valley of el zaribah, disclosing four tents pitched on an eminence to the right of a road running thence south-west. these tents, connected by ropes, helped perfect an enclosure occupied by horses, donkeys, camels and dromedaries, and their cumbrous equipments. several armed men kept watch over the camp. the valley out to the pink granite hills rimming it round wore a fresh green tint in charming contrast with the tawny-black complexion of the region through which the day's journey had stretched. water at a shallow depth nourished camel grass in patches, and theban palms, the latter much scattered and too small to be termed trees. the water, and the nearness of the holy city--only one day distant--had, in a time long gone, won for el zaribah its double appointment of meeting place for the caravans and place of the final ceremony of assumption of the costume and vows _el ihram_. the prophet himself had prescribed the ceremony; so the pilgrims in the camp on the eminence, the better to observe it and at the same time get a needful rest, had come up during the night in advance of the caravans. in other words, the prince of india--the title by which he was now generally known--might, at the opening hour of the day, have been found asleep in the larger of the four tents; the one with the minaret in miniature so handsomely gilded and of such happy effect over the centre pole. along the roadsides and on the high grounds of the valley other tints were visible, while faint columns of smoke arising out of the hollows told of preparations for breakfast. these signified the presence of hucksters, barbers, costume dealers, and traders generally, who, in anticipation of the arrival of the caravans, had come from the city to exercise their callings. amongst them, worthy of special attention, was a multitude of professional guides, [footnote: _mutawif_.] ready for a trifling hire to take charge of uninitiated pilgrims, and lead them regardfully through the numerous ceremonies to which they were going. shortly after noon the prince called in a guide, and several barbers, men with long gowns, green turbans, brass basins, sharp knives, and bright bladed scissors. the assumption of the real pilgrimage by his people was then begun. each man submitted his head, mustaches, and nails to the experts, and bathed and perfumed himself, and was dusted with musk. next the whole party put off their old garments, and attired themselves in the two white vestments _el ihram_.[footnote: a mantle and skirt of white cloth unsewn.] the change of apparel was for the better. finally the votaries put on sandals peculiar in that nothing pertaining to them might cover the instep; then they stood up in a row faced toward mecca, and repeated the ancient formula of dedication of the _ihram_ to the almighty slowly intoned for them by the guide. the solemn demeanor of the men during the ceremony, which was tedious and interspersed with prayers and curious recitals, deeply impressed the prince, who at the end of the scene retired into his tent, with his three mute attendants, and there performed the vows for himself and them. there also they all assumed the indispensable costume. then, as he well might do, the law permitting him to seek the shade of a house or a tent, he had a rug spread before his door, where, in the fresh white attire, he seated himself, and with a jar of expressed juice of pomegranates at his side made ready to witness the passing of the caravans, the dust of which was reported visible in the east. afterwhile the cloud of dust momentarily deepening over in that direction was enlivened by a clash of cymbals and drums, blent with peals of horns, the fine, high music yet cherished by warriors of the orient. presently a body of horsemen appeared, their spear points glistening in the sunlight. a glance at them, then his gaze fixed upon a chief in leading. the sun had been hot all day; the profiles of the low hills were dim with tremulous haze lying scorchingly upon them; the furred hulks of the camels in the enclosure looked as if they were smoking; the sky held nothing living except two kites which sailed the upper air slowly, their broad wings at widest extension; yet the chief persisted in wearing his arms and armor, like the soldiers behind him. ere long he rode up and halted in front of the prince, and near by. his head was covered with a visorless casque, slightly conical, from the edge of which, beginning about the temples, a cape of fine steel rings, buckled under the chin, enveloped the neck and throat, and fell loosely over the neck and shoulders, and part way down the back. a shirt of linked mail, pliable as wool, defended the body and the arms to the elbows; overalls of like material, save that the parts next the saddle were leather, clothed the thighs and legs. as the casque and every other link of the mail were plated with gold, the general effect at a distance was as if the whole suit were gold. a surcoat of light green cloth hung at the back half hiding a small round shield of burnished brass; at the left side there was a cimeter, and in the right hand a lance. the saddle was of the high-seated style yet affected by horsemen of circassia; at the pommel a bow and well-filled quiver were suspended, and as the stirrups were in fact steel slippers the feet were amply protected by them. at sight of the martial figure, the indian, in admiration, arose to a sitting posture. such, he thought, were the warriors who followed saladin! and when the stranger, reaching the summit of the eminence, turned out of the road coming apparently to the door of the tent, he involuntarily sprang to his feet ready to do him honor. the face, then plainly seen, though strong of feature, and thoroughly bronzed, was that of a young man not more than twenty-two or three, dark-eyed, mustached and bearded, and of a serious though pleasant expression. he kept his seat with ease and grace; if he and the broad-chested dark-bay horse were not really one, they were one in spirit; together they wrought the impression which was the origin of _majesty_, a title for kings. while the prince was turning this in his mind, the soldier pulled rein, and stopped long enough to glance at him and at the camp; then, turning the horse, he looked the other way, making it apparent he had taken position on the rise to overlook the plain, and observe the coming and dispersion of the caravans. another mounted man ascended the hill, armed and armored like the first one, though not so richly, and bearing a standard of dulled yellow silk hanging from a gilded staff. the ground of the standard was filled with inscriptions in red lettering, leaving the golden crescent and star on the point of the staff to speak of nationality. the bearer of the flag dismounted, and at a sign planted it in the ground. seeing his shaykh, the prince called him: "who is the warrior yonder?--he in the golden armor?" "the emir el hajj, [footnote: chief officer of the pilgrimage. the appointment was considered the highest favor in the sultan's gift.] o prince." "he the emir el hajj!--and so young?--oh! a hero of the serail. the kislar aga extolled him one day." "thy remark and common report, o excellent prince, could not journey together on the same camel," said the shaykh. "in the khan at medina i heard his story. there is a famous enemy of the turks, iskander bey, in strength a jinn, whose sword two men can scarcely lift. he appeared before the army of the sultan one day with a challenge. he whom thou seest yonder alone dared go forth to meet him. the fought from morning till noon; then they rested. 'who art thou?' asked iskander. 'i am a slave of amurath, the commander of the faithful, who hath commissioned me to take thee to him dead or alive.' iskander laughed, and said, 'i know by thy tongue now thou art not a turk; and to see if the commander of the faithful, as thou callest him, hath it in soul to make much of thy merit as a warrior, i will leave thee the honors of the combat, and to go thy way.' whereat they say he lifted his ponderous blade as not heavier than the leaf of a dead palm, and strode from the field." the prince listened, and at the end said, like a man in haste: "thou knowest nilo, my black man. bring him hither." the shaykh saluted gravely, and hurried away, leaving his patron with eyes fixed on the emir, and muttering: "so young!--and in such favor with the old amurath! i will know him. if i fail, he may be useful to me. who knows? who knows?" he looked upward as if speaking to some one there. meantime the emir was questioning the ensign. "this pilgrim," he said, "appears well provided." and the ensign answered: "he is the indian prince of whom i have been hearing since we left medina." "what hast thou heard?" "that being rich, he is open-handed, making free with his aspers as sowers with their seed." "what more?" "he is devout and learned as an imam. his people call him malik. of the prayers he knows everything. as the hours arrive, he lifts the curtains of his litter, and calls them with a voice like belal's. the students in the mosque would expire of envy could they see him bend his back in the benedictions." "_bismillah!_" "they say also that in the journey from el katif to medina he travelled behind the caravan when he might have been first." "i see not the virtue in that. the hill-men love best to attack the van." "tell me, o emir, which wouldst thou rather face, a hill-man or the yellow air?" "the hill-man," said the other decidedly. "and thou knowest when those in front abandon a man struck with the disease?" "yes." "and then?" "the vultures and the jackals have their rights." "true, o emir, but listen. the caravan left el katif three thousand strong. three hundred and more were struck with the plague, and left to die; of those, over one hundred were brought in by the indian. they say it was for this he preferred to march in the rear. he himself teaches a saying of the _hadis_, that allah leaves his choicest blessings to be gathered from amidst the poor and the dying." "if he thou describest be not a prince of india as he claims, he is a"-- "a _mashaikh_." [footnote: holier than a dervish.] "ay, by the most merciful! but how did he save the castaways?" "by a specific known only to kings and lords in his country. can he but reach the plague-struck before death, a drop on the tongue will work a cure. thou heardst what he did at medina?" "no." "the masjid el nabawi [footnote: tomb of the prophet.] as thou knowest, o emir, hath many poor who somehow live in its holy shade." "i know it," said the emir, with a laugh. "i went in the house rich, and come out of it poorer than the poorest of the many who fell upon me at the doors." "well," the ensign continued, not heeding the interruption, "he called them in, and fed them; not with rice, and leeks, and bread ten days sour, but with dishes to rejoice a kaliph; and they went away swearing the soul of the prophet was returned to the world." at this juncture a troop of horsemen ascending the hill brought the conversation to a stop. the uniformity of arms and armor, the furniture of the steeds, the order and regularity of the general movement, identified the body as some favorite corps of the turkish army; while the music, the bristling lances, the many-folded turbans, and the half-petticoated trousers threw about it a glamor of purest orientalism. in the midst of the troop, a vanguard in front, a rearguard behind them, central objects of care and reverence, moved the sacred camels, tall, powerful brutes, more gigantic in appearance because of their caparisoning and the extraordinary burdens they bore. they too were in full regalia, their faces visored in silk and gold, their heads resplendent with coronets of drooping feathers, their ample neck cloths heavy with tasselled metallic fringing falling to the knees. each one was covered with a mantle of brocaded silk arranged upon a crinoline form to give the effect somewhat of the curved expansion on the rim of a bell. on the humps rose pavilions of silk in flowing draperies, on some of which the entire _fatihah_ was superbly embroidered. over the pavilions arose enormous aigrettes of green and black feathers. such were the _mahmals_, containing, among other things of splendor and fabulous value, the _kiswah_ which the sultan was forwarding to the scherif of mecca to take the place of the worn curtains then draping the tabernacle or house of god. the plumed heads of the camels, and the yet more richly plumed pavilions, exalted high above the horsemen, moved like things afloat. one may not tell what calamities to body and soul would overtake the emir el hajj did he fail to deliver the _mahmals_ according to consignment. while the cavalry came up the hill the musicians exerted themselves; at the top, the column turned and formed line left of the emir, followed by strings of camels loaded with military properties, and a horde of camp-followers known as _farrash_. presently another camp was reared upon the eminence, its white roofs shining afar over the plain, and in their midst one of unusual dimensions for the sultan's gifts. the caravans in the meantime began to emerge from the dun cloud of their own raising, and spread at large over the land; and when the young emir was most absorbed in the spectacle the prince's shaykh approached him. "o emir!" the arab said, after a salaam. a wild fanfare of clarions, cymbals, and drums drowning his voice, he drew nearer, almost to the stirrup. "o emir!" he said again. this time he was heard. "what wouldst thou?" there was the slightest irritation in the tone, and on the countenance of the speaker as he looked down; but the feeling behind it vanished at sight of a negro whose native blackness was intensified by the spotless white of the ihram in which he was clad. perhaps the bright platter of beaten copper the black man bore, and the earthen bottle upon it, flanked by two cups, one of silver, the other of crystal, had something to do with the emir's change of manner and mind. "what wouldst thou?" he asked, slightly bending towards them. the shaykh answered: "the most excellent hadji, my patron, whom thou mayst see reclining at the door of his tent, sends thee greeting such as is lawful from one true believer to another travelling for the good of their souls to the most holy of cities; and he prays thou wilt accept from him a draught of this water of pomegranates, which he vouches cooling to the tongue and healthful to the spirit, since he bought it at the door of the house of the prophet--to whom be prayer and praise forever." during the speech, the negro, with a not unpractised hand, and conscious doubtless of the persuasion there was in the sound and sparkle of the beverage, especially to one not yet dismounted from a long ride on the desert, filled the cups, and held them up for acceptance. stripping the left hand of its steel-backed gauntlet, the emir lifted the glass, and, with a bow to the pilgrim then arisen and standing by the tent-door, drank it at a draught; whereupon, leaving the ensign to pay like honor to the offered hospitality, he wheeled his horse, and rode to make acknowledgment in person. "the favor thou hast done me, o hadji," he said, dismounted, "is in keeping with the acts of mercy to thy fellow-men with which i hear thou hast paved the road from el katif as with mother-of-pearl." "speak not of them, i pray," the wanderer answered, returning the bow he received. "who shall refuse obedience to the law?" "i see plainly thou art a good man," the emir said, bowing again. "it would not become me to say so. turning to something better, this tent in the wilderness is mine, and as the sun is not declined to its evening quarter, perhaps, o gallant emir, it would be more to thy comfort were we to go within. i, and all i have, are at thy command." "i am grateful for the offer, most excellent hadji--if the address be lower than thy true entitlement, thou shouldst bring the shaykh yonder to account for misleading a stranger--but the sun and i have become unmindful of each other, and duty is always the same in its demands at least. here, because the valley is the _micath_, [footnote: meeting place.] the caravans are apt to run wild, and need a restraining hand. i plead the circumstance in excuse for presuming to request that thou wilt allow me to amend thy offer of courtesy." the emir paused, waiting for the permission. "so thou dost accept the offer, amend it as thou wilt," and the prince smiled. then the other returned, with evident satisfaction: "when our brethren of the caravans are settled, and the plain is quiet, and i too have taken the required vows, i will return to thee. my quarters are so close to thine it would please me to be allowed to come alone." "granted, o emir, granted--if, on thy side, thou wilt consent to permit me to give thee of the fare i may yet have at disposal. i can promise thou shalt not go away hungry." "be it so." thereupon the emir remounted, and went back to his stand overlooking the plain, and the coming of the multitude. chapter v the passing of the caravans from his position the wanderer could see the advancing caravans; but as the spectacle would consume the afternoon, he called his three attendants, and issued directions for the entertainment of the emir in the evening; this done, he cast himself upon the rug, and gave rein to his curiosity, thinking, not unreasonably, to find in what would pass before him something bearing on the subject ever present in his mind. the sky could not be called blue of any tint; it seemed rather to be filled with common dust mixed with powder of crushed brick. the effect was of a semi-transparent ceiling flushed with heat from the direct down-beating action of the sun, itself a disk of flame. low mountains, purplish black in hue, made a horizon on which the ceiling appeared set, like the crystal in the upper valve of a watch. thus shut in, but still fair to view east and south of the position the spectator occupied, lay el zaribah, whither, as the appointed meeting place, so many pilgrims had for days and weeks ever wearier growing been "walking with their eyes." in their thought the valley was not so much a garden or landscape of beauty as an ante-chamber of the house of allah. as they neared it now, journeying since the break of day, impatience seized them; so when the cry sped down the irregular column--"it is here! it is here!" they answered with a universal _labbayaki_, signifying, "thou hast called us--here we are, here we are!" then breaking into a rabble, they rushed multitudinously forward. to give the reader an idea of the pageant advancing to possess itself of the valley, it will be well to refresh his memory with a few details. he should remember, in the first place, that it was not merely the caravan which left el katif over on the western shore of the green sea, but two great caravans merged into one--_el shemi_, from damascus, and _misri_, from cairo. to comprehend these, the region they drained of pilgrims should be next considered. for example, at cairo there was a concentration from the two egypts, upper and lower, from the mysterious deserts of africa, and from the cities and countries along the southern shore of the mediterranean far as gibraltar; while the whole east, using the term in its most comprehensive sense, emptied contingents of the devout into damascus. in forwarding the myriads thus poured down upon them the arabs were common carriers, like the venetians to the hordes of western europe in some of the later crusades; so to their thousands of votaries proper, the other thousands of them engaged in the business are also to be computed. el medina was the great secondary rendezvous. hardly could he be accounted of the faithful who in making the pilgrimage would turn his back upon the bones of the prophet; of such merit was the saying, "one prayer in this thy mosque is of more virtue than a thousand in other places, save only the masjid el haram." once at medina, how could the pilgrim refuse his presence, if not his tears, at el kuba, forever sacred to the mohammedan heart as the first place of public prayer in islam? finally, it should not be forgotten that the year we write of belonged to a cycle when readers of the koran and worshippers at mecca were more numerous than now, if not more zealous and believing. and it was to witness the passing of this procession, so numerous, so motley, so strangely furnished, so uncontrolled except as it pleased, the prince of india was seated at the door of his tent upon the hill. long before the spectacle was sighted in the distance, its approach was announced by an overhanging pillar of cloud, not unlike that which went before the israelites in their exodus through similar wastes. shortly after the interview with the emir, the prince, looking under the pillar, saw a darkening line appear, not more at first than a thread stretched across a section of the east. the apparition was without a break; nor might he have said it was in motion or of any depth. a sound came from the direction not unlike that of a sibilant wind. presently out of the perspective, which reduced the many to one and all sizes to a level, the line developed into unequal divisions, with intervals between them; about the same time the noise became recognizable as the voices fiercely strained and inarticulate of an innumerable host of men. then the divisions broke into groups, some larger than others; a little later individuals became discernible; finally what had appeared a line resolved itself into a convulsing mass, without front, without wings, but of a depth immeasurable. the pilgrims did not attempt to keep the road; having converted their march into a race, they spread right and left over the country, each seeking a near way; sometimes the object was attained, sometimes not; the end was a confusion beyond description. the very inequalities of the ground helped the confusion. a group was one moment visible on a height; then it vanished in a hollow. now there were thousands on a level; then, as if sinking, they went down, down, and presently where they were there was only dust or a single individual. afterwhile, so wide was the inrolling tide, the field of vision overflowed, and the eye was driven to ranging from point to point, object to object. then it was discernible that the mass was mixed of animals and men--here horses, there camels--some with riders, some without--all, the burdened as well as unburdened, straining forward under urgency of shriek and stick--forward for life--forward as if of the two "comforts," success beckoned them in front, and despair behind plied them with spears. [footnote: in the philosophy of the arabs success and despair are treated as comforts.] at length the eastern boundary of the valley was reached. there one would suppose the foremost of the racers, the happy victors, would rest or, at their leisure, take of the many sites those they preferred; but no--the penalty attaching to the triumph was the danger of being run down by the thousands behind. in going on there was safety--and on they went. to this time the spectacle had been a kind of panoramic generality; now the details came to view, and accustomed as he was to marvels of pageantry, the prince exclaimed: "these are not men, but devils fleeing from the wrath of god!" and involuntarily he went nearer, down to the brink of the height. it seemed the land was being inundated with camels; not the patient brutes we are used to thinking of by that name, with which domestication means ill-treatment and suffering--the slow-going burden-bearers, always appealing to our sympathy because always apparently tired, hungry, sleepy, worn-out--always reeling on as if looking for quiet places in which to slip their loads of whatever kind, and lie down and die; but the camel aroused, enraged, frightened, panic-struck, rebellious, sending forth strange cries, and running with all its might--an army of camels hurling their gigantic hulks along at a rate little less than blind impetus. and they went, singly, and in strings, and yonder a mass. the slower, and those turned to the right or left of the direct course, and all such as had hesitated upon coming to a descent, were speedily distanced or lost to sight; so the ensemble was constantly shifting. and then the rolling and tossing of the cargoes and packages on the backs of the animals, and the streaming out of curtains, scarfs, shawls, and loose draperies of every shape and color, lent touches of drollery and bright contrasts to the scene. one instant the spectator on the hill was disposed to laugh, then to admire, then to shiver at the immensity of a danger; over and over again amidst his quick variation of feeling, he repeated the exclamation: "these are not men, but devils fleeing from the wrath of god!" such was the spectacle in what may be called the second act; presently it reached a third; and then the fury of the movement, so inconsistent with the habits and patient nature of the camel, was explained. in the midst of the hurly-burly, governing and directing it, were horsemen, an army of themselves. some rode in front, and the leading straps on which they pulled with the combined strength of man and horse identified them as drivers; others rode as assistants of the drivers, and they were armed with goads which they used skilfully and without mercy. there were many collisions, upsets, and entanglements; yet the danger did not deter the riders from sharing the excitement, and helping it forward to their utmost. they too used knotted ropes, and stabbed with sharpened sticks; they also contributed to the unearthly tumult of sounds which travelled with the mob, a compound of prayers, imprecations, and senseless screams--the medley that may be occasionally heard from a modern mad-house. in the height of the rush the shaykh came up. "how long," said the prince--"in the prophet's name, how long will this endure?" "till night, o most excellent hadji--if the caravans be so long in coming." "is it usual?" "it has been so from the beginning." thereupon the curiosity of the prince took another turn. a band of horsemen galloped into view--free riders, with long lances carried upright, their caftans flying, and altogether noble looking. "these are arabs. i know by their horses and their bearing," said he, with admiration; "but possibly thou canst give me the name of their tribe." the shaykh answered with pride: "their horses are gray, and by the sign, o lover of the prophet, they are the beni-yarb. every other one of them is a poet; in the face of an enemy, they are all warriors." the camps on the hill, with the yellow flag giving notice of the emir's station, had effect upon others besides the yarbis; all who wished to draw out of the _melange_ turned towards them, bringing the spectacle in part to the very feet of the wanderer; whereas he thought with a quicker beating of the heart, "the followers of the prophet are coming to show me of what they are this day composed." then he said to the shaykh, "stand thou here, and tell me as i shall ask." the conversation between them may be thus summarized: the current which poured past then, its details in perfect view, carried along with it all the conditions and nationalities of the pilgrimage. natives of the desert on bare-backed camels, clinging to the humps with one hand, while they pounded with the other--natives on beautiful horses, not needing whip or spur--natives on dromedaries so swift, sure-footed, and strong there was no occasion for fear. men, and often women and children, on ragged saddle-cloths, others in pretentious boxes, and now and then a person whose wealth and rank were published by the magnificence of the litter in which he was borne, swinging luxuriously between long-stepping dromedaries from el sbark. "by allah!" the prince exclaimed. "here hath barbarism its limit! behold!" they of whom he spoke came up in irregular array mounted on dromedaries without housing. at their head rode one with a white lettered green flag, and beating an immense drum. they were armed with long spears of indian bamboo, garnished below the slender points with swinging tufts of ostrich feathers. each carried a woman behind him disdainful of a veil. the feminine screams of exultation rose high above the yells of the men, helping not a little to the recklessness with which the latter bore onward. woe to such in their way as were poorly mounted. in a twinkling they were ridden down. nor did those fare better who were overtaken struggling with a string of camels. the crash of bursting boxes, the sharp report of rending ropes, the warning cry, the maddening cheer; a battle of men, another of beasts--and when the collision had passed, the earth was strewn with its wreck. "they are wahabbas, o hadji," said the shaykh. "thou seest the tufts on their spears. under them they carry _jehannum_." "and these now coming?" asked the prince. "their long white hats remind me of persia." "persians they are," replied the shaykh, his lip curling, his eyes gleaming. "they will tear their clothes, and cut their shaven crowns, and wail, 'woe's me, o ali!' then kiss the kaaba with defilement on their beards. the curse of the _shaykaim_ is on them--may it stay there!" then the prince knew it was a sunite speaking of schiahs. yet others of the cafila of bagdad passed with the despised sons of iran; notably deccanese, hindoos, afghans, and people from the himalayas, and beyond them far as kathay, and china, and siam, all better known to the prince than to his shaykh, who spoke of them, saying, "thou shouldst know thine own, o hadji! thou art their father!" next, in a blending that permitted no choice of associates, along swept the chief constituents of the caravans--moors and blackamoors, egyptians, syrians, turks, kurds, caucasians, and arabs of every tribe, each a multitude of themselves, and their passing filled up the afternoon. towards sundown the hurry and rush of the movement perceptibly slackened. over in the west there were signs of a halt; tents were rising, and the smoke of multiplying fires began to deepen the blue of the distance. it actually appeared as if settlement for the night would creep back upon the east, whence the irruption had burst. at a moment when the prince's interest in the scene was commencing to flag, and he was thinking of returning to his tent, the rearmost divisions of the pilgrims entered the valley. they were composed of footmen and donkey-riders, for whom the speed of the advance bodies had been too great. high-capped persians, and turks whose turbans were reduced to faded fezes, marched in the van, followed closely by a rabble of takruris, ragged, moneyless, living upon meat of abandoned animals. last of all were the sick and dying, who yet persisted in dragging their fainting limbs along as best they could. might they but reach the holy city! then if they died it would be as martyrs for whom the doors of paradise are always open. with them, expectants of easy prey, like the _rakham_ [footnote: vultures.] sailing in slow circles overhead, flocked the beggars, thieves, outcasts and assassins; but night came quickly, and covered them, and all the things they did, for evil and night have been partners from the beginning. at last the prince returned to his tent. he had seen the sun set over el zaribah; he had seen the passing of the caravans. out there in the valley they lay. they--to him, and for his purposes, the mohammedan world unchanged--the same in composition, in practice, in creed--only he felt now a consciousness of understanding them as never before. mahomet, in his re-introduction of god to man, had imposed himself upon their faith, its master idea, its central figure, the superior in sanctity, the essential condition--the one! knowingly or unknowingly, he left a standard of religious excellence behind him--himself. and by that standard the thief in the wake of the mighty caravans robbing the dead, the thug strangling a victim because he was too slow in dying, were worthy paradise, and would attain it, for they believed in him. faith in the prophet of god was more essential than faith in god. such was the inspiration of islam. a sinking of spirit fell upon the unhappy man. he felt a twinge of the bitterness always waiting on failure, where the undertaking, whatever it be, has enlisted the whole heart. at such times instinctively we turn here and there for help, and in its absence, for comfort and consolation; what should he do now but advert to christianity? what would christians say of his idea? was god lost in christ as he was here in mahomet? chapter vi the prince and the emir in the reception room of the prince's tent the lamps are lighted; one fastened to the stout centre pole, and five others on as many palings planted in the ground, all burning brightly. the illumination is enriched by the admirable blending of colors in the canopy of shawls. within the space defined by the five lamps, on a tufted rug, the mystic and the emir are seated, both in _ihram_, and looking cool and comfortable, though the night outside still testifies to the heat of the day. a wooden trencher, scoured white as ivory, separates the friends, leaving them face to face. in supping they have reached what we call the dessert. on the trencher are slender baskets containing grapes, figs, and dates, the choicest of the gardens of medina. a jar of honey, an assortment of dry biscuits, and two jugs, one of water, the other of juice of pomegranates, with drinking cups, complete the board. at this age, orientals lingering at table have the cheer of coffee and tobacco; unhappily for the two of whom we are writing, neither of the great narcotics was discovered. nevertheless it should not be supposed the fruits, the honey, and the waters failed to content them. behind the host is the negro we already know as nilo. he is very watchful of his master's every motion. as guest and host appear now the formalism of acquaintanceship just made has somewhat disappeared, and they are talking easily and with freedom. occasionally a movement of one or the other brings his head to a favorable angle, whereat the light, dropping on the freshly shaven crown, is sharply glinted back. the emir has been speaking of the plague. "at medina i was told it had run its course," the host remarked. "true, o hadji, but it has returned, and with greater violence. the stragglers were its victims; now it attacks indiscriminately. yesterday the guard i keep in the rear came to a pilgrim of rank. his litter was deserted, and he was lying in it dead." "the man may have been murdered." "nay," said the emir, "gold in large amount was found on his person." "but he had other property doubtless?" "of great value." "what disposition was made of it?" "it was brought to me, and is now with other stores in my tent; a law of ancient institution vesting it in the emir el hajj." the countenance of the jew became serious. "the ownership was not in my thought," he said, waving his hand. "i knew the law; but this scourge of allah has its laws also, and by one of them we are enjoined to burn or bury whatever is found with the body." the emir, seeing the kindly concern of his host, smiled as he answered: "but there is a higher law, o hadji." "i spoke without thinking danger of any kind could disturb thee." the host drew forward the date basket, and the emir, fancying he discerned something on his mind besides the fruit, waited his further speech. "i am reminded of another matter, o brave emir; but as it also is personal i hesitate. indeed i will not speak of it except with permission." "as you will," the other replied, "i will answer--may the prophet help me!" "blessed be the prophet!" said the prince, reverently. "thy confidence doeth me honor, and i thank thee; at the same time i would not presume upon it if thy tongue were less suggestive of a land whose name is music--italy. it is in my knowledge, o emir, that the sultan, thy master--may allah keep him in countenance!--hath in his service many excellent soldiers by birth of other countries than his own, broad as it is--christians, who are none the less of the true faith. wherefore, wilt thou tell me of thyself?" the question did not embarrass the emir. "the answer must be brief," he answered, without hesitation, "because there is little to tell. i do not know my native country. the peculiarity of accent you have mentioned has been observed by others; and as they agreed with you in assigning it to italy, i am nothing loath to account myself an italian. the few shreds of circumstance which came to me in course of time confirmed the opinion, and i availed myself of a favorable opportunity to acquire the tongue. in our further speech, o hadji, you may prefer its use." "at thy pleasure," the host replied; "though there is no danger of our being overheard. nilo, the slave behind me, has been a mute from birth." then, without the slightest interruption, the emir changed his speech from greek to italian. "my earliest remembrance is of being borne in a woman's arms out of doors, under a blue sky, along a margin of white sand, an orchard on one hand, the sea on the other. the report of the waves breaking upon the shore lives distinctly in my memory; so does the color of the trees in the orchard which has since become familiar to me as the green of olives. equally clear is the recollection that, returning in-doors, i was carried into a house of stone so large it must have been a castle. i speak of it, as of the orchard, and the sea, and the roar of the breakers, quite as much by reference to what i have subsequently seen as from trust in my memory." here the host interrupted him to remark: "though an eastern, i have been a traveller in the west, and the description reminds me of the eastern shore of italy in the region of brindisi." "my next recollection," the emir resumed, "is a child's fright, occasioned by furious flames, and thick smoke, and noises familiar now as of battle. there was then a voyage on the sea during which i saw none but bearded men. the period of perfect knowledge so far as my history is concerned began when i found myself an object of the love and care of the wife of a renowned pacha, governor of the city of brousa. she called me _mirza_. my childhood was spent in a harem, and i passed from it into a school to enter upon my training as a soldier. in good time i became a janissary. an opportunity presented itself one day, and i distinguished myself. my master, the sultan, rewarded me by promotion and transfer to the _silihdars_, [footnote: d'oheson.] the most ancient and favored corps of the imperial army, it being the body-guard of the padisha, and garrison of his palace. the yellow flag my ensign carries belongs to that corps. as a further token of his confidence, the sultan appointed me emir el hajj. in these few words, o hadji, you have my history." the listener was impressed with the simplicity of the narrative, and the speaker's freedom from regret, sorrow, or passion of any kind. "it is a sad story, o emir," he said, sympathetically, "and i cannot think it ended. knowest thou not more?" "nothing of incident," was the reply. "all that remains is inferential. the castle was attacked at night by turks landed from their galleys." "and thy father and mother?" "i never knew them." "there is another inference," said the prince, suggestively--"they were christians." "yes, but unbelievers." the suppression of natural affection betrayed by the remark still more astonished the host. "but they believed in god," he said. "they should have believed mahomet was his prophet." "i fear i am giving you pain, o emir." "dismiss the fear, o hadji." again the jew sought the choicest date in the basket. the indifference of his guest was quick fuel to the misgivings which we have already noticed as taking form about his purpose, and sapping and weakening it. to be arbiter in the religious disputes of men, the unique consummation called for by his scheme, the disputants must concede him room and hearing. were all mohammedans, from whom he hoped most, like this one born of christians, then the two conditions would be sternly refused him. by the testimony of this witness, there was nothing in the heredity of faith; and it went to his soul incisively that, in stimulating the passions which made the crusades a recurrence of the centuries, he himself had contributed to the defeat now threatening his latest ambition. the sting went to his soul; yet, by force of will, always at command in the presence of strangers, he repressed his feeling, and said: "everything is as allah wills. let us rejoice that he is our keeper. the determination of our fate, in the sense of what shall happen to us, and what we shall be, and when and where the end shall overtake us, is no more to him than deciding the tint of the rose before the bud is formed. o emir, i congratulate you on the resignation with which you accept his judgment. i congratulate you upon the age in which he has cast your life. he who in a moment of uncertainty would inform himself of his future should not heed his intentions and hopes; by studying his present conditions, he will find himself an oracle unto himself. he should address his best mind to the question, 'i am now in a road; if i keep it, where will i arrive?' and wisdom will answer, 'what are thy desires? for what art thou fitted? what are the opportunities of the time?' most fortunate, o emir, if there be correspondence between the desire, the fitness, and the opportunity!" the emir did not comprehend, and seeing it, the host added with a directness approaching the abrupt: "and now to make the reason of my congratulations clear, it is necessary that thou consent to my putting a seal upon your lips. what sayest thou?" "if i engage my silence, o hadji, it is because i believe you are a good man." the dignity of the emir's answer did not entirely hide the effect of the prince's manner. "know thou then," the latter continued, with a steady, penetrating gaze--"know thou then, there is a brahman of my acquaintance who is a magus. i use the word to distinguish him from the necromancers whom the koran has set in everlasting prohibition. he keeps school in a chapel hid away in the heart of jungles overgrowing a bank of the bermapootra, not far from the mountain gates of the river. he has many scholars, and his intelligence has compassed all knowledge. he is familiar with the supernatural as with the natural. on my way, i visited him.... know thou next, o emir, i too have had occasion to make inquiries of the future. the vulgar would call me an astrologer--not a professional practising for profit, but an adept seeking information because it lifts me so much nearer allah and his sublimest mysteries. very lately i found a celestial horoscope announcing a change in the status of the world. the masterful waves, as you may know, have for many ages flowed from the west; but now, the old roman impetus having at last spent itself, a refluence is to set in, and the east in its turn pour a dominating flood upon the west. the determining stars have slipped their influences. they are in motion. _constantinople is doomed!_" the guest drew a quick breath. understanding was flooding him with light. "and now, o emir, say, if the revelation had stopped there--stopped, i mean, with the overthrow of the christian capital--wouldst thou have been satisfied with it?" "no, by allah, no!" "further, emir. the stars being communicable yet, what wouldst thou have asked them next?" "i would not have rested until i had from them the name of him who is to be leader in the movement." the mystic smiled at the young man's fervor. "thou hast saved me telling what i did, and affirmed the logic of our human nature," he said. "thy imperial master is old, and much worn by wars and cares of government, is he not?" "old in greatness," answered the emir, diplomatically. "hath he not a son?" "a son with all the royal qualities of the father." "but young--not more than eighteen." "not more." "and the prophet hath lent him his name?" "even so." the host released the eager face of the emir from his gaze, while he sought a date in the basket. "another horoscope--the second"--he then said, quietly, "revealed everything but the hero's name. he is to be of kingly birth, and a turk. though a lad, he is already used to arms and armor." "oh! by allah, hadji," cried the guest, his face flushed, his words quick, his voice mandatory. "release me from my pledge of silence. tell me who thou art, that i may report thee, and the things thou sayest. there was never such news to warm a heroic heart." the prince pursued his explanation without apparently noticing the interruption noticing the interruption. "to verify the confidences of the stars, i sought the magus in his chapel by the sacred river. together we consulted them, and made the calculations. he embraced me; but it was agreed between us that absolute verity of the finding could only be had by re-casting the horoscopes at constantinople. thou must know, o emir, there is an astral alphabet which has its origin in the inter-relations of the heavenly bodies, represented by lines impalpable to the common eye; know also that the most favored adept cannot read the mystic letters with the assurance best comporting with verity, except he be at the place of the destined event or revolution. to possess myself of the advantage, i shall ere long visit the ancient capital. more plainly, i am on the way thither now." instead of allaying the eagerness of the emir, the words excited it the more. "release me from my pledge," he repeated, entreatingly, "and tell me who thou art. mahommed is my pupil; he rides, carries shield, lays lance, draws arrow, and strikes with sword and axe as i have taught him. thou canst not name a quality characteristic of heroes he does not possess. doth allah permit me safe return from the hajj, he will be first to meet me at his father's gate. think what happiness i should have in saluting him there with the title--hail mahommed, conqueror of constantinople!" the jew answered: "i would gladly help thee, o emir, to happiness and promotion; for i see what afterwhile, if not presently, they would follow such a salutation of thy pupil, if coupled with a sufficient explanation; but his interests are paramount; at the same time it becomes me to be allegiant to the divinatory stars. what rivalries the story might awaken! it is not uncommon in history, as thou mayst know, that sons of promise have been cut off by jealous fathers. i am not accusing the great amurath; nevertheless precautions are always proper." the speaker then became dramatic. "nay, brave emir, the will to help thee has been already seconded by the deed. i spoke but now of lines of correspondence between the shining lights that are the life of the sky at night. let me illustrate my meaning. observe the lamps about us. the five on the uprights. between them, in the air, two stars of interwoven form are drawn. take the lamps as determining points, and use thy fancy a moment." the emir turned to the lamps; and the host, swift to understand the impulse, gave him time to gratify it; then he resumed: "so the fields of heaven between the stars, where the vulgar see only darkness, are filled with traceries infinite in form yet separable as the letters of the alphabet. they are the ciphers in which allah writes his reasons for every creation, and his will concerning it. there the sands are numbered, and the plants and trees, and their leaves, and the birds, and everything animate; there is thy history, and mine, and all of little and great and good and bad that shall befall us in this life. death does not blot out the records. everlastingly writ, they shall be everlastingly read--for the shame of some, for the delight of others." "allah is good," said the emir, bending his head. "and now," the mystic continued, "thou hast eaten and drunk with me in the pentagram of the magii. such is the astral drawing between the five lamps. henceforth in conflicts of interest, fortune against fortune, influences undreamt of will come to thy assistance. so much have i already done for thee." the emir bowed lower than before. "nor that alone," the jew continued. "henceforth our lives will run together on lines never divergent, never crossing. be not astonished, if, within a week, i furnish, to thy full satisfaction, proof of what i am saying." the expression could not be viewed except as of more than friendly interest. "should it so happen," the emir said, with warmth, "consider how unfortunate my situation would be, not knowing the name or country of my benefactor." the host answered simply, though evasively: "there are reasons of state, o emir, requiring me to make this pilgrimage unknown to any one." the emir apologized. "it is enough," the host added, "that thou remember me as the prince of india, whose greatest happiness is to believe in allah and mahomet his prophet; at the same time i concede we should have the means of certainly knowing each other should communication become desirable hereafter." he made a sign with his right hand which the negro in waiting responded to by passing around in front of him. "nilo," the master said in greek, "bring me the two malachite rings--those with the turquoise eyes." the slave disappeared. "touching the request to be released from the promise of secrecy, pardon me, o emir, if i decline to grant it. the verification to be made in constantinople should advise thee that the revolution to which i referred is not ripe for publication to the world. a son might be excused for dishonoring his parents; but the magus who would subject the divine science to danger of ridicule or contempt by premature disclosure is fallen past hope--he would betray allah himself." the emir bowed, but with evident discontent. at length the slave returned with the rings. "observe, o emir," the jew said, passing them both to his guest, "they are rare, curious, and exactly alike." the circlets were of gold, with raised settings of deep green stone, cut so as to leave a drop of pure turquoise on the top of each, suggestive of birds' eyes. "they are exactly the same, o prince," said the emir, tendering them back. the jew waved his hand. "select one of them," he said, "and i will retain the other. borne by messengers, they will always identify us each to the other." the two grew more cordial, and there was much further conversation across the board, interspersed with attentions to the fruit basket and pomegranate water. about midnight the emir took his departure. when he was gone, the host walked to and fro a long time; once he halted, and said aloud--"i hear his salute, 'hail mahommed, conqueror of constantinople!' it is always well to have a store of strings for one's bow." and to himself he laughed heartily. next day at dawn the great caravan was afoot, every man, woman, and child clad in _ihram_, and whitening the pale green valley. chapter vii at the kaaba the day before the pilgrimage. a cloud had hung over the valley where mecca lies like drift in the bed of a winding gorge. about ten o'clock in the morning the cloud disappeared over the summit of abu kubays in the east. the promise of rain was followed by a simoom so stifling that it plunged every breathing thing into a struggle for air. the dogs burrowed in the shade of old walls; birds flew about with open beaks; the herbage wilted, and the leaves on the stunted shrubs ruffled, then rolled up, like drying cinnamon. if the denizens of the city found no comfort in their houses of stone and mud, what suffering was there for the multitude not yet fully settled in the blistering plain beyond the bluffs of arafat? the zealous pilgrim, obedient to the law, always makes haste to celebrate his arrival at the holy city by an immediate visit to the haram. if perchance he is to see the enclosure for the first time, his curiosity, in itself pardonable, derives a tinge of piety from duty. the prince of india but illustrated the rule. he left his tents pitched close to those of the emir el hajj and the scherif of mecca, under the mountain of mercy, as arafat was practically translated by the very faithful. having thus assured the safety of his property, for conveniency and greater personal comfort he took a house with windows looking into the mosque. by so doing, he maintained the dignity of his character as a prince of india. the beggars thronging his door furnished lively evidence of the expectations his title and greatness had already excited. with a guide, his suite, and nilo shading his head with an umbrella of light green paper, the prince appeared in front of the chief entrance to the sacred square from the north. [footnote: the bab el vzyadeh.] the heads of the party were bare; their countenances becomingly solemn; their _ihram_ fresh and spotlessly white. passing slowly on, they were conducted under several outside arches, and down a stairway into a hall, where they left the umbrella and their shoes. the visitor found himself then in a cloister of the mosque with which the area around the kaaba is completely enclosed. there was a pavement of undressed flags, and to the right and left a wilderness of tall pillars tied together by arches, which in turn supported domes. numbers of people, bareheaded and barefooted, to whom the heat outside was insupportable, were in refuge there; some, seated upon the stones, revolved their rosaries; others walked slowly about. none spoke. the silence was a tribute to the ineffable sanctity of the place. the refreshing shade, the solemn hush, the whiteness of the garments were suggestive of sepulchres and their spectral tenantry. in the square whither the prince next passed, the first object to challenge his attention was the kaaba itself. at sight of it he involuntarily stopped. the cloisters, seen from the square, were open colonnades. seven minarets, belted in red, blue and yellow, arose in columnar relief against the sky and the mountains in the south. a gravelled plot received from the cloisters; next that, toward the centre, was a narrow pavement of rough stone in transverse extension down a shallow step to another gravelled plot; then another pavement wider than the first, and ending, like it, in a downward step; after which there was a third sanded plot, and then a third pavement defined by gilded posts upholding a continuous row of lamps, ready for lighting at the going down of the sun. the last pavement was of gray granite polished mirror-like by the friction of millions of bare feet; and upon it, like the pedestal of a monument upon a plinth, rested the base of the holy house, a structure of glassy white marble about two feet in height, with a bench of sharp inclination from the top. at intervals it was studded with massive brass rings. upon the base the kaaba rose, an oblong cube forty feet tall, eighteen paces lengthwise, and fourteen in breadth, shrouded all in black silk wholly unrelieved, except by one broad band of the appearance of gold, and inscriptions from the koran, of a like appearance, wrought in boldest lettering. the freshness of the great gloomy curtain told how quickly the gift of the sultan had been made available, and that whatever else might betide him, the young emir was already happily discharged of his trust. of the details, the only one the jew actually coupled with a thought was the kaaba. a hundred millions of human beings pray five times every day, their faces turned to this funereal object! the idea, though commonplace, called up that other always in waiting with him. in a space too brief for the formulation of words, he felt the arbitership of his dreams blow away. the work of the founder of islam was too well done and now too far gone to be disturbed, except with the sanction of god. had he the sanction? a writhing of the soul, accompanied with a glare, like lightning, and followed, like lightning, by an engulfing darkness, wrung his features, and instinctively he covered them with his hands. the guide saw the action, and misjudged it. "let us not be in haste," he said. "others before you have found the house at first sight blinding. blessed be allah!" the commiseration affected the prince strangely. the darkness, under pressure of his hands upon the eyeballs, gave place to an atmosphere of roseate light, in the fulness of which he saw the house of god projected by solomon and rebuilt by herod. the realism of the apparition was absolute, and comparison unavoidable. that he, familiar with the glory of the conception of the israelite, should be thought blinded by this _beit allah_ of the arab, so without grace of form or lines, so primitive and expressionless, so palpably uninspired by taste, or genius, or the deity it was designed to honor, restored him at once: indeed, in the succeeding reaction, he found it difficult to keep down resentment. dropping his hands, he took another survey of the shrouded pile, and swept all the square under eye. he beheld a crowd of devotees at the northeast corner of the house, and over their heads two small open structures which, from descriptions often heard, he recognized as praying places. a stream of worshippers was circling around the marble base of the most holy, some walking, others trotting; these, arriving at the northeast corner, halted--the black stone was there! a babel of voices kept the echoes of the enclosure in unremitting exercise. the view taken, the jew said, calmly: "blessed be allah! i will go forward." in his heart he longed to be in constantinople--islam, it was clear, would lend him no ear; christendom might be more amenable. he was carried next through the gate of the sons of the old woman; thence to the space in front of the well zem-zem; mindful of the prayers and prostrations required at each place, and of the dumb servants who went with him. the famous well was surrounded by a throng apparently impassable. "room for the royal hadji--for the prince of india!" the guide yelled. "there are no poor where he is--make way!" a thousand eyes sought the noble pilgrim; and as a path opened for him, a score of _zem-zemis_ refilled their earthen cups with the bitter water afresh. a prince of hind did not come to them every day. he tasted from a cup--his followers drank--and when the party turned away there were jars paid for to help all the blind in the caravan back to healthful vision. "there is no god but allah! be merciful to him, o allah," the crowd shouted, in approval of the charity. the press of pilgrims around the northeastern corner of the kaaba, to which the guide would have conducted the prince next, was greater than at the well. each was waiting his turn to kiss the black stone before beginning the seven circuits of the house. never had the new-comer seen a concourse so wrought upon by fanaticism; never had he seen a concourse so peculiarly constituted. all complexions, even that of the interior african, were a reddish desert tan. eyes fiercely bright appeared unnaturally swollen from the colirium with which they were generally stained. the diversities the penitential costume would have masked were effectually exposed whenever mouths opened for utterance. many sang, regardless of time or melody, the _tilbiye_ they had hideously vocalized in their advance toward the city. for the most part, however, the effort at expression spent itself in a long cry, literally rendered--"thou hast called me--i am here! i am here!" the deliverance was in the vernacular of the devotee, and low or loud, shrill or hoarse, according to the intensity of the passion possessing him. to realize the discordancy, the reader must recall the multiplicity of the tribes and nations represented; then will he fancy the agitation of the mass, the swaying of the white-clad bodies, the tossing of bare arms and distended hands, the working of tearful faces turned up to the black-curtained pile regardless of the smiting of the sun--here men on their knees, there men grovelling on the pavement--yonder one beating his breast till it resounds like an empty cask--some comprehension of the living obstruction in front of the jew can be had. then the guide, calling him, tried the throng. "the prince of india!" he shouted, at the top of his voice. "room for the beloved of the prophet! stand not in his way--room, room!" after much persistence the object was achieved. a pilgrim, the last one in front of the prince, with arms extended along the two sides of the angle of the wall where the curtain was looped up, seemed struggling to embrace the house; suddenly, as in despair he beat his head frantically against the sharp corner--a second thrust more desperate than the first--then a groan, and he dropped blindly to the pavement. the guide rejoicing made haste to push the prince into the vacant place. without the enthusiasm of a traveller, calmly as a philosopher, the jew, himself again, looked at the stone which more nearly than any other material thing commanded idolatrous regard from the mohammedan world. he had known personally most of the great men of that world--its poets, lawmakers, warriors, ascetics, kings--even the prophet. and now they came one by one, as one by one they had come in their several days, and kissed the insensate thing; and between the coming and going time was scarcely perceptible. the mind has the faculty of compressing, by one mighty effort, the incidents of a life, even of centuries, into a flash-like reenactment. as all the way from the first view of the sanctuary to arrival at the gate, and thence to this point, the jew had promptly followed his guide, especially in recitation of the prescribed prayers, he was about to do so now; already his hands were raised. "great god! o my god! i believe in thee--i believe in thy book--i believe in thy word--i believe in thy promise," the zealous prompter said, and waited. for the first time the votary was slow to respond. how could he, at such a juncture, refuse a thought to the innumerables whose ghosts had been rendered up in vain struggles to obey the law which required them to come and make proof of faith before this stone! the innumerables, lost at sea, lost in the desert--lost body and soul, as in their dying they themselves had imagined! symbolism! an invention of men--a necessity of necromancers! god had his ministers and priests, the living media of his will, but of symbols--nothing! "great god! o my god!" the guide began again. a paroxysm of disgust seized the votary. the phariseeism in which he was born and bred, and which he could no more outlive than he could outlive his body asserted itself. in the crisis of the effort at self-control, he heard a groan, and, looking down, saw the mad devotee at his feet. in sliding from the shelf of the base, the man had been turned upon his back, so that he was lying face upward. on the forehead there were two cruel wounds; and the blood, yet flowing, had partially filled the hollows of the eyes, making the countenance unrecognizable. "the wretch is dying," the prince exclaimed. "allah is merciful--let us attend to the prayers," the guide returned, intent on business. "but he will die, if not helped." "when we have finished, the porters will come for him." the sufferer stirred, then raised a hand. "o hadji--o prince of india!" he said faintly, in italian. the wanderer bent down to get a nearer view. "it is the yellow air--save me!" though hardly articulate, the words were full of light to the listener. "the virtues of the pentagram endure," he said, with absolute self-possession. "the week is not ended, and, lo!--i save him." rising to his full stature, he glanced here and there over the throng, as if commanding attention, and proclaimed: "a mercy of the most merciful! it is the emir el hajj." there was a general silence. every man had seen the martial figure of the young chief in his arms and armor, and on horseback; many of them had spoken to him. "the emir el hajj--dying," passed rapidly from mouth to mouth. "o allah!" burst forth in general refrain; after which the ejaculations were all excerpted from prayers. "'o allah! this is the place of him who flies to thee from fire!--shadow him, o allah, in thy shadow!--give him drink from the cup of thy prophet!'" a bedouin, tall, almost black, and with a tremendous mouth open until the red lining was exposed between the white teeth down to the larynx, shouted shrilly the inscription on the marble over the breast of the prophet--"in the name of allah! allah have mercy upon him!"--and every man repeated the words, but not one so much as reached a hand in help. the prince waited--still the _amins_, and prayerful ejaculations. then his wonder ceased. not a pilgrim but envied the emir--that he should die so young was a pity--that he should die at the base of the sanctuary, in the crowning act of the hajj, was a grace of god. each felt paradise stooping low to receive a martyr, and that its beatitude was near. they trembled with ecstasy at hearing the gates opening on their crystal hinges, and seeing light as from the robe of the prophet glimmering through them. o happy emir! the jew drew within himself. compromise with such fanaticism was impossible. then, with crushing distinctness, he saw what had not before occurred to him. in the estimation of the mohammedan world, the role of arbiter was already filled; that which he thought of being, mahomet was. too late, too late! in bitterness of soul he flung his arms up and shouted: "the emir is dying of the plague!" he would have found satisfaction in seeing the blatant crowd take to its heels, and hie away into the cloisters and the world outside; not one moved! "by allah!" he shouted, more vehemently than before. "the yellow air hath blown upon the emir--is blowing upon you--fly!" "_amin! amin!_--peace be with thee, o prince of martyrs! o prince of the happy! peace be with thee, o lion of allah! o lion of the prophet!" such the answers returned him. the general voice became a howl. surely here was something more than fanaticism. then it entered his understanding. what he beheld was faith exulting above the horrors of disease, above the fear of death--faith bidding death welcome! his arms fell down. the crowd, the sanctuary, the hopes he had built on islam, were no more to him. he signed to his three attendants, and they advanced and raised the emir from the pavement. "to-morrow i will return with thee, and complete my vows;" he said to his guide. "for the present, lead out of the square to my house." the exit was effected without opposition. next day the emir, under treatment of the prince, was strong enough to tell his story. the plague had struck him about noon of the day following the interview in the tent at el zaribah. determined to deliver the gifts he had in keeping, and discharge his trust to the satisfaction of his sovereign, he struggled resolutely with the disease. after securing the scherif's receipt he bore up long enough to superintend the pitching his camp. believing death inevitable, he was carried into his tent, where he issued his final orders and bade his attendants farewell. in the morning, though weak, half-delirious, his faith the strongest surviving impulse, he called for his horse, and being lifted into the saddle, rode to the city, resolved to assure himself of the blessings of allah by dying in the shadow of the sanctuary. the prince, listening to the explanation, was more than ever impressed with the futility of attempting a compromise with people so devoted to their religion. there was nothing for him but to make haste to constantinople, the centre of christian sentiment and movement. there he might meet encouragement and ultimate success. in the ensuing week, having performed the two pilgrimages, and seen the emir convalescent, he took the road again, and in good time reached jedda, where he found his ship waiting to convey him across the red sea to the african coast. the embarkation was without incident, and he departed, leaving a reputation odorous for sanctity, with numberless witnesses to carry it into every quarter of islam. chapter viii the arrival in constantinople uel, the son of jahdai, was in the habit of carrying the letter received from the mysterious stranger about with him in a breast pocket. how many times a day he took it out for reexamination would be difficult to say. observing the appearance of signs of usage, he at length wrapped it in an envelope of yellow silk. if he had thought less of it, he would have resorted to plain linen. there were certain points in the missive which seemed of greater interest to him than others. for example, the place whence it had been addressed was an ever recurring puzzle; he also dwelt long upon the sentence which referred so delicately to a paternal relationship. the most exigent passages, however, were those relative to the time he might look for the man's coming. as specially directed, he had taken note of the day of the delivery of the letter, and was greatly surprised to find the messenger had arrived the last day of the year permitted him. the punctuality of the servant might be in imitation of a like virtue of the master. if so, at the uttermost, the latter might be expected six months after receipt of the letter. or he might appear within the six months. the journeys laid out were of vast distances, and through wild and dangerous countries, and by sea as well. only a good traveller could survive them at all; to execute them in such brief space seemed something superhuman. so it befell that the son of jahdai was at first but little concerned. the months--three, four, five--rolled away, and the sixth was close at hand; then every day brought him an increase of interest. in fact, he found himself looking for the arrival each morning, and at noon promising it an event of the evening. november was the sixth and last month of the time fixed. the first of that month passed without the stranger. uel became anxious. the fifteenth he turned the keeping of his shop over to a friend; and knowing the passage from alexandria must be by sea, he betook himself, with syama, to the port on the golden horn known as the gate of st. peter, at the time most frequented by egyptian sailing masters. in waiting there, he saw the sun rise over the heights of scutari, and it was the morning of the very last day. syama, meantime, occupied himself in final preparation of the house for the reception. he was not excited, like uel, because he had no doubt of the arrival within the period set. he was also positively certain of finding his master, when at length he did appear, exactly as when he separated from him in cipango. he was used to seeing time waste itself upon the changeless man; he had even caught from him a kind of contempt for what other men shrank from as dangers and difficulties. the site of the house has been described; it remains to give the reader an idea of its interior. there were four rooms on the ground floor furnished comfortably for servants, of whom the arrangement indicated three besides syama. the first floor was of three apartments communicable by doorways with portieres of camel's hair. the furniture was roman, greek, and egyptian mixed. of the three the middle chamber was largest, and as its fittings were in a style of luxury supposed to be peculiar to princes, the conclusion was fair that it was designed for the proprietor's occupancy during his waking hours. a dark blue rug clothed the floor. in the centre, upon a shield of clear copper, arose a silver brazier. the arms and legs of the stools here and there on the rug were carven in grotesque imitation of reptiles and animals of the ultra dragonish mode. the divans against the walls were of striped silk. in each corner stood a tall post of silvered bronze, holding at the end of a graceful crook several lamps of pompeiian model. a wide window in the east end, filled with plants in bloom, admitted ample light, which, glancing through the flowers, fell on a table dressed in elegant cloth, and bearing a lacquered waiter garnished with cups of metal and glass, and one hand-painted porcelain decanter for drinking water. an enormous tiger-skin, the head intact and finished with extraordinary realism, was spread on the floor in front of the table. the walls were brilliant with fresh byzantine frescoing. the air of the room was faintly pervaded with a sweet incense of intoxicating effect upon one just admitted to it. indeed the whole interior partook of this sweetness. the care of the faithful servant had not been confined to the rooms; he had constructed a summer house upon the roof, knowing that when the weather permitted his master would pass the nights there in preference to the chambers below. this structure looked not unlike a modern belfry, except that the pillars and shallow dome of the top were of moorish lightness. thence, to a familiar, the heavens in the absence of the sun would be an unrolled map. when the last touch of the preparation had been given, and syama said to himself, "he may come now," one point was especially noticeable--nowhere in the house was there provision for a woman. the morning of the last day syama accompanied uel to the port reluctantly. feeling sure his master had not arrived in the night, he left his friend on the watch, and returned home early. the noise and stir of business at the ancient landing were engaging. with a great outcry, a vessel would be drawn up, and made fast, and the unloading begun. a drove of donkeys, or a string of camels, or a mob of porters would issue from the gate, receive the cargo and disappear with it. now and then a ship rounded the classic point, its square sail bent and all the oars at work: sweeping past galata on the north side of the horn, then past the fish market gate on the south, up it would come gracefully as a flying bird; if there was place for it at the quay, well; if not, after hovering around awhile, it would push out to a berth in the open water. such incidents were crises to uel. to this one and to that he would run with the question: "where is she from?" if from the upper sea, he subsided; but if from the marmora, he kept eager lookout upon her, hoping to recognize in every disembarkee the man he was expecting. that he had never seen the person was of little consequence. he had thought of him so much awake, and seen him so repeatedly in dreams, he was confident of knowing him at sight. imagining a stranger's appearance is for the most part a gentle tribute of respect; the mistakes we make are for the most part ludicrous. no one answering the preconception came. noon, and still no one; then, cast down and disappointed, uel went home, ate something, held the usual childish dialogue with his little girl, and about mid afternoon crossed the street to the new residence. great was his astonishment at finding a pyramid of coals glowing in the silver brazier, and the chill already driven from the sitting-room. here--there--upstairs, downstairs--the signs were of present occupancy. for a moment he thought the master had slipped by him or landed at some other port of the city. "is he here? has he come?" he asked, excitedly, and syama answered with a shake of the head. "then why the fire?" syama, briefly waving his hand as if following the great marmorean lake, turned the finger ends into the other palm, saying plainly and emphatically: "he is coming--he will be here directly." uel smiled--faith could not be better illustrated--and it was so in contrast with his own incredulity! he lingered awhile. restlessness getting the mastery, he returned home, reflecting on the folly of counting so implicitly upon the conclusion to a day of a tour so vast. more likely, he thought, the traveller's bones were somewhere whitening the desert, or the savages of kash-cush had eaten him. he had heard of their cannibalism. want of faith, however, did not prevent the shopkeeper from going to his friend's house after supper. it was night, and dark, and the chilling moisture of a winter wind blowing steadily from the black sea charged the world outside with discomfort. the brazier with its heap of living coals had astonished him before; now the house was all alight! he hastened upstairs. in the sitting-room the lamps were burning, and the illumination was brilliant. syama was there, calm and smiling as usual. "what--he is here?" uel said, looking from door to door. the servant shook his head, and waved his hand negatively, as to say: "not yet--be patient--observe me." to indulge his wonder, uel took seat. later on he tried to get from syama an explanation of his amazing confidence, but the latter's substitute for speech was too limited and uncertain to be satisfactory. about ten o'clock syama went below, and presently returned with food and drink on a large waiter. "ah, good lord!" uel thought. "he is making a meal ready. what a man! what a master!" then he gave attention to the fare, which was of wheaten wafers, cold fowl, preserved fruits, and wine in a stoneware bottle. these syama set on a circular table not higher than the divan in front of which it was drawn. a white napkin and a bowl for laving the fingers completed the preparation, as uel supposed. but no. syama went below again, and reappeared with a metal pot and a small wooden box. the pot he placed on the coals in the brazier, and soon a delicate volume of steam was pouring from the spout; after handling the box daintily as if the contents were vastly precious, he deposited it unopened by the napkin and bowl. then, with an expression of content upon his face, he too took seat, and surrendered himself to expectancy. the lisping of the steam escaping from the pot on the fire was the only sound in the room. the assurance of the servant was contagious. uel began to believe the master would come. he was congratulating himself upon the precaution he had taken in leaving a man at the port to conduct him rightly when he heard a shuffling of feet below stairs. he listened startled. there were several men in the company. steps shook the floor. uel and syama arose. the latter's countenance flushed with pleasure; giving one triumphal glance at his friend, much as to say, there--did i not tell you so? he walked forward quickly, and reached the head of the steps just as a stranger finished their ascent. in a moment syama was on his knees, kissing the hand held out to him. uel needed no prompter--it was the master! if only on account of the mutuality of affection shown between the two, the meeting was a pleasant sight. that feature, however, was lost to the shopkeeper, who had no thought except of the master's appearance. he had imagined him modelled after the popular conceptions of kings and warriors--tall, majestic, awe-inspiring. he saw instead a figure rather undersized, slightly stoop-shouldered, thin; at least it seemed so then, hid as it was under a dark brown burnoose of the amplitude affected by arab sheiks. the head was covered by a woollen handkerchief of reddish tint, held by a scarlet cord. the edge of the handkerchief projected over the forehead enough to cast the entire face in shade, leaving to view only a mass of white beard overflowing the breast. the master ended the reception at the head of the stairs by gently raising syama to his feet. then he subjected the room to a swift inspection, and, in proof of satisfaction, he patted the happy retainer on the shoulder. invited by the fire, and the assurance of comfort in its glow, he advanced to the brazier, and while extending his hands over it, observed uel. without surprise or hesitation he walked to him. "son of jahdai!" he said, offering his hand. the voice was of exceeding kindness. as an overture to peace and goodwill, it was reenforced by very large eyes, the intense blackness of which was softened by a perceptible glow of pleasure. uel was won on the instant. a recollection of the one supreme singularity of the new acquaintance--his immunity from death--recurred to him, and he could not have escaped its effect had he wished. he was conscious also that the eyes were impressing him. without distinct thought, certainly without the slightest courtierly design, he obeyed the impulse of the moment, and stooped and touched the extended hand with his lips. and before rising he heard the beginning of further speech: "i see the truth of my judgment. the family of my ancient friends has trodden the ways of righteousness under the commandments of the lord until it has become a kind unto itself. i see too my trust has been verified. o son of jahdai, you did assist my servant, as i requested, and to your kindness, doubtless, i am indebted for this home full of comforts after a long absence among strangers. i hold you my creditor." the tendency of the speech was to relieve uel of embarrassment. "do not thank me," he answered. "the business was ordinary, and strictly within syama's capacity. indeed, the good man could have finished it without my help." the master, rich in experience, noticed the deferential manner of the reply, and was agreeably assured on his side. "very well. there will be no harm in reserving an opinion," he said. "the good man, as you call him, is making ready a drink with which he has preceded me from his country, and which you must stay and share, as it is something unknown in the west." "let me first welcome you here," uel returned. "oh, i saw the welcome in your face. but let us get nearer the fire. the night is chilling. if i were owner of a garden under whatever hill along the bosphorus, verily i should tremble for my roses." thus briefly, and in such simple manner, the wise mystic put the shopkeeper perfectly at ease. at the brazier they watched syama in the operation since become of universal knowledge under title of "drawing tea." the fragrance of the decoction presently filled the room to the suppression of the incense, and they drank, ate, and were sociable. the host outlined his travels. uel, in return, gave him information of the city. when the latter departed, it was with a light heart, and an elastic step; the white beard and patriarchal manner of the man had laid his fears, and the future was to him like a cloudless sky. afterwhile the master signified a wish to retire; whereupon his household came, as was their wont, to bid him good-night. of these there were two white men. at sight of syama, they rushed to embrace him as became brethren of old acquaintance long in the same service. a third one remained at the door. syama looked at him, and then at the master; for the man was a stranger. then the jew, with quick intuition of the requirement of the time, went, and took him by the hand, and led him to the others. addressing syama, he said gravely: "this is nilo, son of the nilo whom you knew. as you held the father in love, so you shall hold the son." the man was young, very black, and gigantic in stature. syama embraced him as he had the others. in the great city there was not a more united household under roof than that of the shopkeeper's friend. chapter ix the prince at home a wise man wishing to know another always attends him when he is in narrative. the reader may be familiar with the principle, and a believer in it; for his better satisfaction, therefore, a portion of the prince's conversation with uel over the tea-table the night of his arrival in constantinople shall be reported nearly as possible in his own words. it will be found helpful to the story as well as an expose of character. "i said in my letter, as thou mayst remember, o son of jahdai"--the voice of the speaker was low, but earnest, and admirably in harmony with the sentiment, "that i hoped thou wouldst allow me to relate myself to thee as father to son. thou hast not forgotten it, i am sure." "i recall it distinctly," uel answered, respectfully. "thou wilt remember not less clearly then that i added the words, 'in all things a help, in nothing a burden.'" uel assented. "the addition i thought of great importance," the prince continued; "for it was very desirable that thou shouldst not imagine me coming to sit down upon thee, and in idleness fatten upon the fruits of thy industry. as something of even greater importance, thou shouldst know now, at this earliest moment of our intercourse, that i am abundantly able from what i have of goods and treasure to keep any condition i may choose to assume. indeed thou shouldst not be too much astonished did i practise the style and manner of the nobles who are privileged in the palaces of thy caesar. at home i shall be as thou seest me now, thy friend of simplest habits, because my tastes really incline to them; when i go abroad, the officials of the church and state whom i chance to encounter shall be challenged to comparison of appearance, and be piqued to inquire about me. then when the city observes thou art intimate with me, the demand for thy wares will increase; thou mayst even be put to stress to keep apace with it. in speaking thus, i trust thy natural shrewdness, sharpened as it must have become by much dealing as a merchant." he paused here to give his cup to syama for replenishment; whereupon uel said: "i have followed thy discourse with interest, and i hope with understanding; yet i am conscious of a disadvantage. i do not know thy name, nor if thou hast a title." "yes, and thou mightest have set down in the table of defaults," the wanderer began pleasantly in reply, but broke off to receive the cup smoking hot from the servant, and say--"thanks, syama. i see thy hand hath not lost its deftness; neither has the green leaf suffered from its long journey over the sea." uel noticed with what intentness syama watched the master's lips while he was speaking, and the gratification that beamed from his face in answer to the compliment; and he thought, "verily this must be a good man to be so beloved by his dependents." "i was saying, o son of jahdai, that thou mightest have set down the other points of information equally necessary to our intercourse--whence i come? and why? and i will not leave thee in the dark respecting them. only let me caution thee--it is not required that the public should be taken into our confidence. i have seen a flower good to look upon, but viscous, and with a scent irresistible to insects. that flower represents the world; and what is the folly of its victims but the madness of men who yield themselves with too easy faith to the seductions of the world? nay, my son--observe thou the term--i use it to begin the relationship i seek--observe also i begin the relationship by confidences which were unwisely given without the injunction that they are intended to be put away in thy inner-conscience. tell me if i am understood." the question was emphasized by a look whose magnetism thrilled uel's every nerve. "i believe i understand you," he replied. then, as if the prince knew the effect he had wrought, and that it relieved him from danger of betrayal, he returned to his former easy manner. "and yet, as thou shalt see, my son, the confidences are not crimes--but thy cup is empty, and syama waiting for it." "the drink is new to me," uel replied, yielding to the invitation. "new? and wilt thou not also say it is better than wine? the world of which we are talking, will one day take up the admission, and be happier of it." turning then to serious matter: "afterwhile," he said, "thou wilt be importuned by the curious to know who i am, and thou shouldst be able to answer according to the fact--he is a prince of india. the vulgar will be satisfied with the reply. others will come demanding more. refer them to me. as to thyself, o son of jahdai, call me as i have instructed thee to speak of me--call me prince. at the same time i would have thee know that on my eighth day i was carried into a temple and registered a son of a son of jerusalem. the title i give thee for my designation did not ennoble me. the birthright of a circumcised heritor under the covenant with israel is superior to every purely human dignity whatever its derivation." "in other words, o prince, thou art"--uel hesitated. "a jew!" the other answered promptly--"a jew, as thy father was--as thou art." the look of pleasure that appeared on the shopkeeper's face was swiftly interpreted by the prince, who felt he had indeed evoked a tie of blood, and bound the man with it. "so much is despatched," he said, with evident satisfaction; then, after a draught from the tea-cup, and a re-delivery to syania for more, he continued: "possibly thou wilt also remember my letter mentions a necessity for my crossing from india to mecca on the way to kash-cush, and that, despite the stoppage, i hoped to greet thee in person within six months after syama reported himself. how stands the time?" "this is the last day of the six months," uel answered. "yes, there was never man"--the prince paused, as if the thought were attended with a painful recollection--"never a man," he presently resumed, "who kept account of time more exactly than myself." a copious draught of tea assuaged the passing regret. "i wrote the letter while in cipango, an island of the great eastern sea. thirty years after i set foot upon its shore, theretofore unvisited by a white man, a countryman of ours from this city, the sole survivor of a shipwreck, joined me. from him i heard of thy father's death. he also gave me thy name.... my life on the island was comparatively untroubled. indeed, for thy perfect comprehension, my son, it is best to make an explanation now; then thou wilt have a key to many things in my conduct to come as well as conduct gone which would otherwise keep thee in doubtful reflection. the study of greatest interest is religion. i have travelled the world over--i mean the inhabited parts--and in its broad extent there is not a people without worship of some kind. wherefore my assertion, that beyond the arts, above the sciences, above commerce, above any or all other human concernments, religion is the superlative interest. it alone is divine. the study of it is worship. knowledge of it is knowledge of god. can as much be said of any other subject?" uel did not answer; he was following the speech too intently, and the prince, seeing it, drank again, and proceeded: "the divine study took me to cipango. fifty years thou mayst say to thyself was a long term in such a country. not so, my son. i found there two faiths; the one sin-siu, which i turned my back upon as mythologic, without the poetry of the greek and roman; the other--well, a life given to the laws of buddha were well spent. to say truth, there is such similitude between them and the teachings of him we are in the habit of calling the carpenter's son that, if i did not know better, it were easy to believe the latter spent the years of his disappearance in some buddhistic temple.... leaving explanation to another time, the same study carried me to mecca. the binding of men, the putting yokes about their necks, trampling them in the dust, are the events supposed most important and therefore most noticeable in history; but they are as nothing in comparison with winning belief in matters indeterminable by familiar tests. the process there is so mysterious, the achievement so miraculous that where the operator is vastly successful one may well look under them for the permission of god. the day was when islamism did but stir contemptuous laughter; now it is the faith acceptable to more men than any other. is it not worthy the vigils of a student? and then it happens, my son, that in the depths of their delusion, people sometimes presume to make their own gods, and reform them or cast them out. deities have been set up or thrown down by their makers in the changes of a moon. i wanted to see if such calamity had befallen the allah of mahomet.... my going to kash-cush was on what thou wouldst call business, and of it i will also tell thee. at jedda, whither i betook myself after making the pilgrimages at mecca, i regained my ship, and descended the red sea, landing at a village on the extreme inland shore of the bay of tajurrah, below the straits of bab-el-mandel. i was then in kash-cush. from the village on the coast, i passed into the interior, travelling in a litter on the shoulders of native porters, and, after many days, reached my destination--a collection of bungalows pitched on the bank of a tributary of the blue nile called the dedhesa. the journey would have been difficult and tedious but that one of my attendants--a black man--had been king of the tribe i sought. his name was nilo, and his tribe paramount throughout the uncivilized parts of kash-cush. more than fifty years before,--prior, in fact, to my setting out for cipango,--i made the same tour, and found the king. he gave me welcome; and so well did he please me that i invited him to share my wanderings. he accepted the proposal upon condition that in his old age he should be returned home, and exchanged for a younger man of his blood. i agreed, provided one younger could be found who, besides the requisite physique and the virtues of intellect and courage, was also deaf and dumb, like himself. a treaty was thus perfected. i call it a treaty as distinct from a purchase, for nilo was my friend and attendant--my ally, if you please--never my slave. there was a reception for us the like of which for feasting and merriment was without mention in the traditions of the tribe. a grandson filled my friend's throne; but he gave it back to him, and voluntarily took his place with me. thou shalt see him to-morrow. i call him nilo, and spend the morning hours teaching him to talk; for while he keeps me reminded of a greek demi-god--so tall, strong and brave is he--he is yet deaf and dumb, and has to be taught as syama was. when thou hast to do with him be gentle and courteous. i wish it kept in mind he is my friend and ally, bound to me by treaty as his grandfather was.... the only part of the tour given thee in my letter which i omitted was the descent of the nile. having performed it before, my curiosity was sated, and i allowed my impatience to be in thy city here to determine my course. i made way back to the village on the bay of tajurrah where, in anticipation of such a change, my vessel was held in detention. thence, up the sea and across the isthmus, i proceeded to alexandria, and to-night happily find myself at home, in hope of rest for my body and renewal of my spirit." with this, the explanation appeared concluded; for the prince notified syama that he did not desire more tea, and lapsed into a thoughtful silence. presently uel arose, saying: "you must be weary. with permission i will take my leave now. i confess you have given me much to think over, and made me happy by taking me into your confidence. if it be agreeable, i will call at noon to-morrow." the prince went with him to the head of the stairs, and there bade him peace and good-night. chapter x the rose of spring the prince, as the jew preferred to be called, kept his house closely quite a month, resting, not hibernating. he took exercise daily on the flat roof; and walking to and fro there, found three objects of attraction: the hill to the southwest with the church upon it, the palace of blacherne off further in the west, and the tower of galata. the latter, across the golden horn in the north, arose boldly, like a light-house on a cliff; yet, for a reason--probably because it had connection with the subject of his incessant meditations--he paused oftenest to gaze at the palace. he was in his study one day deeply absorbed. the sun, nearing meridian, poured a stream of white light through the south window, flooding the table at which he sat. that the reader may know something of the paths the mystic most frequented when in meditation, we will make free with one of the privileges belonging to us as a chronicler. the volume directly in front of him on the table, done in olive wood strengthened at the corners with silver, was near two feet in length, and one and a half in width; when closed, it would be about one foot thick. now he had many wonderful rare and rich _antiques_, but none so the apple of his eye as this; for it was one of the fifty holy bibles of greek transcription ordered by constantine the great. at his right, held flat by weights, were the _sacred books_ of china, in form a roll of broad-leafed vellum. at his left, a roll somewhat similar in form and at the moment open, lay the _rig-veda_ of the aryans in sanscrit. the fourth book was the _avesta_ of zoroaster--a collection of mss. stitched together, and exquisitely rendered by parse devas into the zend language. a fifth book was the _koran_. the arrangement of the volumes around the judean bible was silently expressive of the student's superior respect; and as from time to time, after reading a paragraph from one of the others, he returned to the great central treasure, it was apparent he was making a close comparison of texts with reference to a particular theme, using the scriptures as a standard. most of the time he kept the forefinger of his left hand on what is now known as the fourteenth verse of the third chapter of exodus--"and god said unto moses, i am that i am: and he said, thus shalt thou say unto the children of israel, i am hath sent me unto you." if, as the prince himself had declared, religion were indeed the study of most interest to the greatest number of men, he was logically consistent in comparing the definitions of _god_ in the bibles of theistic nations. so had he occupied himself since morning. the shrewd reader will at once discern the theme of his comparative study. at length he grew weary of bending over the books, and of the persistent fixedness of attention required for the pursuit of fine shades of meaning in many different languages. he threw his arms up in aid of a yawn, and turned partly around, his eyes outrunning the movement of his body. the half-introverted glance brightened with a gleam, and remained fixed, while the arms dropped down. he could only look in wonder at what he saw--eyes black and almost large as his own gazing at him in timid surprise. beholding nothing but the eyes, he had the awesome feeling which attends imagining a spirit suddenly risen; then he saw a forehead low, round, and white, half shaded by fluffs of dark hair; then a face of cherubic color and regularity, to which the eyes gave an indefinable innocency of expression. every one knows the effect of trifles on the memory. a verse or a word, the smell of a flower, a lock of hair, a turn in music, will not merely bring the past back, but invest it with a miraculous recurrency of events. the prince's gaze endured. he stretched his hand out as if fearful lest what he saw might vanish. the gesture was at once an impulse and an expression. there was a time--tradition says it was the year in which he provoked the curse--when he had wife and child. to one of them, possibly both, the eyes then looking into his might have belonged. the likeness unmanned him. the hand he stretched forth fell lightly upon the head of the intruder. "what are you?" he said. the vagueness of the expression will serve excellently as a definition of his condition; at the same time it plunged the child addressed into doubt. presently she answered: "i am a little girl." accepting the simplicity of the reply as evidence of innocency too extreme for fear, he took the visitor in his arms, and sat her on his knee. "i did not mean to ask what you are, but who?" he said. "uel is my father." "uel? well, he is my friend, and i am his; therefore you and i should be friends. what is your name?" "he calls me gul bahar." "oh! that is turkish, and means rose of spring. how came you by it?" "my mother was from iconium." "yes--where the sultans used to live." "and she could speak turkish." "i see! gul bahar is an endearment, not a real name." "my real name is lael." the prince paled from cheek to brow; his lips trembled; the arm encircling her shook; and looking into his eyes, she saw tears dim them. after a long breath, he said, with inexpressible tenderness, and as if speaking to one standing just behind her--"lael!" then, the tears full formed, he laid his forehead on her shoulder so his white hair blent freely with her chestnut locks; and sitting passively, but wondering, she heard him sob and sob again and again, like another child. soon, from pure sympathy, unknowing why, she too began sobbing. several minutes passed thus; then, raising his face, and observing her responsive sorrow, he felt the need of explanation. "forgive me," he said, kissing her, "and do not wonder at me. i am old--very old--older than thy father, and there have been so many things to distress me which other men know nothing of, and never can. i had once"-- he stopped, repeated the long breath, and gazed as at a far object. "i too had once a little girl." pausing, he dropped his eyes to hers. "how old are you?" "next spring i shall be fourteen," she answered. "and she was just your age, and so like you--so small, and with such hair and eyes and face; and she was named lael. i wanted to call her _rimah_, for she seemed a song to me; but her mother said, as she was a gift from the lord, she wanted in the fulness of days to give her back to him, and that the wish might become a covenant, she insisted on calling her lael, which, in hebrew--thy father's tongue and mine--means to god." the child, listening with all her soul, was now not in the least afraid of him; without waiting, she made the application. "you loved her, i know," she said "how much--oh, how much!" "where is she now?" "at jerusalem there was a gate called the golden gate. it looked to the east. the sun, rising over the top of mount olivet, struck the plates of gold and corinthian brass more precious than gold, so it seemed one rosy flame. the dust at its rocky sill, and the ground about it are holy. there, deep down, my lael lies. a stone that tasked many oxen to move it covers her; yet, in the last day, she will be among the first to rise--of such excellence is it to be buried before that golden gate." "oh! she is dead!" the child exclaimed. "she is dead;" and seeing her much affected, he hastened to say, "i shed many tears thinking of her. ah, how gentle and truthful she was! and how beautiful! i cannot forget her. i would not if i could; but you who look so like her will take her place in my heart now, and love me as she did; and i will love you even as i loved her. i will take you into my life, believing she has come again. in the morning i will ask first, where is my lael? at noon, i will demand if the day has been kind to her; and the night shall not be half set in except i know it has brought her the sweetness of sleep. will you be my lael?" the question perplexed the child, and she was silent. again he asked, "will you be my lael?" the earnestness with which he put the question was that of a hunger less for love than an object to love. the latter is not often accounted a passion, yet it creates necessities which are peremptory as those of any passion. one of the incidents of the curse he was suffering was that he knew the certainty of the coming of a day when he must be a mourner for whomsoever he should take into his heart, and in this way expiate whatever happiness the indulgence might bring him. nevertheless the craving endured, at times a positive hunger. in other words, his was still a human nature. the simplicity and beauty of the girl were enough to win him of themselves; but when she reminded him of the other asleep under a great rock before the gate of the holy city, when the name of the lost one was brought to him so unexpectedly, it seemed there had been a resurrection, making it possible for him to go about once more as he was accustomed to in his first household. a third time he asked, "you will be my lael?" "can i have two fathers?" she returned. "oh, yes!" he answered quickly. "one in fact, the other by adoption; and they can both love you the same." immediately her face became a picture of childish trust. "then i will be your lael too." he clasped her close to his breast, and kissed her, crying: "my lael has come back to me! god of my fathers, i thank thee!" she respected his emotion, but at length, with her hand upon his shoulder, said: "you and my father are friends, and thinking he came here, i came too." "is he at home?" "i think so." "then we will go to him. you cannot be my lael without his consent." presently, hand in hand, they descended the stairs, crossed the street, and were in the shopkeeper's presence. the room was plainly but comfortably furnished as became the proprietor's fortune and occupation. closer acquaintance, it is to be said, had dissipated the latent dread, which, as has been seen, marked uel's first thought of intimacy between the stranger and the child. seeing him old, and rich, and given to study, not to say careless of ordinary things, the father was beginning to entertain the idea that it might in some way be of advantage to the child could she become an object of interest to him. wherefore, as they entered now, he received them with a smile. traces of the emotion he had undergone were in the prince's face, and when he spoke his voice was tremulous. "son of jahdai," he said, standing, "i had once a wife and child. they perished-how and when, i cannot trust myself to tell. i have been faithful to their memory. from the day i lost them, i have gone up and down the world hunting for many things which i imagined might renew the happiness i had from them. i have been prodigal of gratitude, admiration, friendship, and goodwill, and bestowed them singly and together, and often; but never have i been without consciousness of something else demanding to be given. happiness is not all in receiving. i passed on a long time before it came to me that we are rich in affections not intended for hoarding, and that no one can be truly content without at least one object on which to lavish them. here"--and he laid his hand on the child's head--"here is mine, found at last." "lael is a good girl," uel said with pride. "yes, and as thou lovest her let me love her," the prince responded. then, seeing uel become serious, he added, "to help thee to my meaning, lael was my child's name, and she was the image of this one; and as she died when fourteen, thy lael's age, it is to me as if the tomb had miraculously rendered its victim back to me." "prince," said uel, "had i thought she would not be agreeable to you, i should have been sorry." "understand, son of jahdai," the other interposed, "i seek more of thee than thy permission to love her. i want to do by her as though she were mine naturally." "you would not take her from me?" "no. that would leave thee bereft as i have been. like me, thou wouldst then go up and down looking for some one to take her place in thy heart. be thou her father still; only let me help thee fashion her future." "her birthrights are humble," the shopkeeper answered, doubtfully; for while in his secret heart he was flattered, his paternal feeling started a scruple hard to distinguish from fear. a light shone brightly in the eyes of the elder jew, and his head arose. "humble!" he said. "she is a daughter of israel, an inheritor of the favor of the lord god, to whom all things are possible. he keeps the destinies of his people. he--not thou or i--knows to what this little one may come. as we love her, let us hope the happiest and the highest, and prepare her for it. to this end it were best you allow her to come to me as to another father. i who teach the deaf and dumb to speak--syama and nilo the elder--will make her a scholar such as does not often grace a palace. she shall speak the mediterranean tongues. there shall be no mysteries of india unknown to her. mathematics shall bring the heavens to her feet. especially shall she become wise in the chronicles of god. at the same time, lest she be educated into unfitness for the present conditions of life, and be unsexed, thou shalt find a woman familiar with society, and instal her in thy house as governess and example. if the woman be also of israel, so much the better; for then we may expect faithfulness without jealousy. and further, son of jahdai, be niggardly in nothing concerning our lael. clothe her as she were the king's daughter. at going abroad, which she shall do with me in the street and on the water, i would have her sparkle with jewels, the observed of everybody, even the emperor. and ask not doubtingly, 'whence the money for all this?' i will find it. what sayest thou now?" uel did not hesitate. "o prince, as thou dost these things for her--so far beyond the best i can dream of--take her for thine, not less than mine." with a beaming countenance, the elder raised the child, and kissed her on the forehead. "dost hear?" he said to her. "now art thou my daughter." she put her arms about his neck, then held them out to uel, who took her, and kissed her, saying: "oh my gul bahar!" "good!" cried the prince. "i accept the name. to distinguish the living from the dead, i too will call her my gul bahar." thereupon the men sat, and arranged the new relation, omitting nothing possible of anticipation. next day the prince's house was opened with every privilege to the child. a little later on a woman of courtly accomplishment was found and established under uel's roof as governess. thereupon the mystic entered upon a season during which he forgot the judgment upon him, and all else save gul bahar, and the scheme he brought from cipango. he was for the time as other men. in the lavishment of his love, richer of its long accumulation, he was faithful to his duty of teacher, and was amply rewarded by her progress in study. book iii the princess irene chapter i morning on the bosphorus our narrative proceeds now from a day in the third year after lael, the daughter of the son of jahdai, dropped into the life of the prince of india--a day in the vernal freshness of june. from a low perch above the mountain behind becos, the sun is delivering the opposite european shore of the bosphorus from the lingering shades of night. out on the bosom of the classic channel vessels are swinging lazily at their anchorages. the masthead of each displays a flag bespeaking the nationality of the owner; here a venetian, there a genoese, yonder a byzantine. tremulous flares of mist, rising around the dark hulls, become entangled in the cordage, and as if there were no other escape, resolve themselves into air. fisher boats are bringing their owners home from night-work over in the shallows of indjerkeui. gulls and cormorants in contentious flocks, drive hither and thither, turning and tacking as the schools of small fish they are following turn and tack down in the warm blue-green depths to which they are native. the many wings, in quick eccentric motion, give sparkling life to the empurpled distance. the bay of therapia, on the same european shore over against becos, was not omitted from rescue by the sun. within its lines this morning the ships were in greater number than out in the channel--ships of all grades, from the sea going commercial galley to the pleasure shallop which, if not the modern _caique_, was at least its ante-type in lightness and grace. and as to the town, one had but to look at it to be sure it had undergone no recent change--that in the day of constantine dragases it was the same summer resort it had been in the day of medea the sorceress--the same it yet is under sway of the benignant abdul-hamid. from the lower point northwardly jutting finger-like into the current of the channel, the beach swept in a graceful curve around to the base of the promontory on the south. then as now children amused themselves gathering the white and black pebbles with which it was strewn, and danced in and out with the friendly foam-capped waves. then as now the houses seemed tied to the face of the hill one above another in streetless disarrangement; insomuch that the stranger viewing them from his boat below shuddered thinking of the wild play which would ensue did an earthquake shake the hill ever so lightly. and then as now the promontory south served the bay as a partial land-lock. then as now it arose boldly a half mountain densely verdurous, leaving barely space enough for a roadway around its base. then as now a descending terrace of easy grade and lined with rock pine trees of broadest umbrella tops, slashed its whole townward front. sometime in the post-medean period a sharp-eyed greek discerned the advantages it offered for aesthetic purposes, and availed himself of them; so that in the age of our story its summit was tastefully embellished with water basins, white-roofed pavilions, and tessellated pavements roman style. alas, for the perishability of things human! and twice alas, that the beautiful should ever be the most perishable! but it is now to be said we have spoken thus of the bosphorus, and the bay and town of therapia, and the high promontory, as accessories merely to a plot of ground under the promontory and linked to it by the descending terrace. there is no word fitly descriptive of the place. ravine implies narrowness; gorge signifies depth; valley means width; dell is too toylike. a summer retreat more delicious could not be imagined. except at noon the sun did but barely glance into it. extending hundreds of yards back from the bay toward the highlands west of the town, it was a perfected garden of roses and flowering vines and shrubs, with avenues of boxwood and acacias leading up to ample reservoirs hidden away in a grove of beeches. the water flowing thence became brooks or was diverted to enliven fountains. one pipe carried it in generous flow to the summit of the promontory. in this leafy eden the birds of the climate made their home the year round. there the migratory nightingale came earliest and lingered longest, singing in the day as well as in the night. there one went regaled with the breath of roses commingled with that of the jasmine. there the bloom of the pomegranate flashed through the ordered thicket like red stars; there the luscious fig, ripening in its "beggar's jacket," offered itself for the plucking; there the murmur of the brooks was always in the listening ear. along the whole front of the garden, so perfectly a poet's ideal, stretched a landing defended from the incessant swash of the bay by a stone revetment. there was then a pavement of smoothly laid flags, and then a higher wall of dark rubble-work, coped with bevelled slabs. an open pavilion, with a bell-fashioned dome on slender pillars, all of wood red painted, gave admission to the garden. then a roadway of gray pebbles and flesh-tinted shells invited a visitor, whether afoot or on horseback, through clumps of acacias undergrown with carefully tended rosebushes, to a palace, which was to the garden what the central jewel is to the cluster of stones on "my lady's" ring. standing on a tumulus, a little removed from the foot of the promontory, the palace could be seen from cornice to base by voyagers on the bay, a quadrangular pile of dressed marble one story in height, its front relieved by a portico of many pillars finished in the purest corinthian style. a stranger needed only to look at it once, glittering in the sun, creamy white in the shade, to decide that its owner was of high rank--possibly a noble--possibly the emperor himself. it was the country palace of the princess irene, of whom we will now speak.[footnote: during the crimean war a military hospital was built over the basement vaults and cisterns of the palace here described. the hospital was destroyed by fire. for years it was then known as the "khedive's garden," being a favorite resort for festive parties from the capital. at present the promontory and the retreat it shelters pertain to the german embassy, a munificent gift from his majesty, sultan abdul-hamid.] chapter ii the princess irene [footnote: this name is of three syllables, and is pronounced as if spelled e-ren-ay; the last syllable to rhyme with day, say, may.] during the reign of the last manuel, in , as a writer has placed the incident--that is to say, about thirty-nine years prior to the epoch occupying us--a naval battle occurred between the turks and christians off plati, one of the isles of the princes. the issue was of interest to all the peoples who were in the habit of commercial resort in the region, to the venetians and genoese as well as the byzantines. to the latter it was of most vital moment, since defeat would have brought them a serious interruption of communication with the islands which still remained to the emperor and the powers in the west upon which their dependency grew as year after year their capacity for self-defence diminished. the turkish ships had been visible in the offing several days. at last the emperor concluded to allow his mariners to go out and engage them. his indecision had been from a difficulty in naming a commander. the admiral proper was old and inexperienced, and his fighting impulses, admitting they had ever really existed, had been lost in the habitudes of courtierly life. he had become little more than a ceremonial marker. the need of the hour was a genuine sailor who could manoeuvre a squadron. on that score there was but one voice among the seamen and with the public-- "manuel--give us manuel!" the cry, passing from the ships to the multitude in the city, assailed the palace. the reader should understand the manuel wanted was not the emperor, but one of his brothers who could lay no claim to birth in the purple. his mother had not been a lawful spouse; yet the manuel thus on the tongues of the many had made a hero of himself. he proved his temper and abilities in many successful affairs on the sea, and at length became a popular idol; insomuch that the imperial jealousy descended upon him like a cloud, and hid him away. nor could his admirers say he lived; he had a palace and a family, and it was not known that any of the monasteries in the city or on the isles of the princes had opened to receive him. on these shreds of evidence, affirmative and negative, slender as they may appear, it was believed he was yet alive. hence the clamor; and sooth to say it sufficed to produce the favorite; so at least the commonalty were pleased to think, though a sharper speculation would have scored the advent quite as much to the emergency then holding the empire in its tightening grip. restored to active life, manuel the sailor was given a reception in the hippodrome; then after a moment of gladness with his family, and another in which he was informed of the situation and trial before him, he hurried to assume the command. next morning, with the rising of the sun, the squadron under oar and sail issued gallantly from its retreat in the golden horn, and in order of battle sought the boastful enemy of plati. the struggle was long and desperate. its circumstances were dimly under view from the seaward wall in the vicinity of the seven towers. a cry of rejoicing from the anxious people at last rose strong enough to shake the turrets massive as they were--"kyrie eleison! kyrie eleison!" christ had made his cause victorious. his cross was in the ascendant. the turks drew out of the defeat as best they could, and made haste to beach the galleys remaining to them on the asiatic shore behind the low-lying islands. manuel the sailor became more than a hero; to the vulgar he was a savior. all byzantium and all galata assembled on the walls and water along the famous harbor to welcome him when, with many prizes and a horde of prisoners, he sailed back under the sun newly risen over the redeemed propontis. trumpets answered trumpets in brazen cheer as he landed. a procession which was a reminder of the triumphs of the ancient and better times of the empire escorted him to the hippodrome. the overhanging gallery reserved for the emperor there was crowded with the dignitaries of the court; the factions were out with their symbols of blue and green; the scene was gorgeous; yet the public looked in vain for manuel the emperor; he alone was absent; and when the dispersion took place, the byzantine spectators sought their homes shaking their heads and muttering of things in store for their idol worse than had yet befallen him. wherefore there was little or no surprise when the unfortunate again disappeared, this time with his whole family. the victory, the ensuing triumph, and the too evident popularity were more than the jealous emperor could overlook. there was then a long lapse of years. john palaeologus succeeded manuel on the throne, and was in turn succeeded by constantine, the last of the byzantine monarchs. constantine signalized his advent, the great greek event of , by numerous acts of clemency, for he was a just man. he opened many prison doors long hopelessly shut. he conferred honors and rewards that had been remorselessly erased from account. he condoned offences against his predecessors, mercifully holding them wanting in evil against himself. so it came to pass that manuel, the hero of the sea fight off plati, attained a second release, or, in better speech, a second resurrection. he had been all the years practically buried in certain cells of the convent of st. irene on the island of prinkipo, and now he came forth an old man, blind and too enfeebled to walk. borne into private audience, he was regarded by constantine with tender sympathy. "and thou art that manuel who made the good fight at plati?" "say rather i am he who was that manuel," the ancient replied. "death despises me now because he could not call my decease a victory." the inquisitor, visibly affected, next spoke in an uncertain voice. "is what i have heard true, that at thy going into the monastery thou hadst a family?" the eyes of the unfortunate were not too far gone for tears; some rolled down his cheeks; others apparently dropped into his throat. "i had a wife and three children. it is creditable to the feeling called love that they chose to share my fate. one only survives, and"--he paused as if feebly aware of the incoherency--"and she was born a prisoner." "born a prisoner!" exclaimed constantine. "where is she now?" "she ought to be here." the old man turned as he spoke, and called out anxiously: "irene--irene, where art thou, child?" an attendant, moved like his master, explained. "your majesty, his daughter is in the ante-room." "bring her here." there was a painful hush in the chamber during the waiting. when the daughter appeared, all eyes were directed to her--all but the father's, and even he was instantly aware of her presence; for which, doubtless, the sensibility known only to the long-time blind was sufficiently alive. "where hast thou been?" he asked, with a show of petulance. "calm thee, father, i am here." she took his hand to assure him, and then returned the look of the emperor; only his was of open astonishment, while hers was self-possessed. two points were afterwards remembered against her by the courtiers present; first, contrary to the custom of byzantine women, she wore no veil or other covering for the face; in the next place, she tendered no salutation to the emperor. far from prostrating herself, as immemorial etiquette required, she did not so much as kneel or bow her head. they, however, excused her, saying truly her days had been passed in the monastery without opportunity to acquire courtly manners. in fact they did not at the time notice the omissions. she was so beautiful, and her beauty reposed so naturally in an air of grace, modesty, intelligence, and purity that they saw nothing else. constantine recovered himself, and rising from his seat, advanced to the edge of the dais, which in such audiences, almost wholly without state, raised him slightly above his guests and attendants, and spoke to the father: "i know thy history, most noble greek--noble in blood, noble in loyalty, noble by virtue of what thou hast done for the empire--and i honor thee. i grieve for the suffering thou hast endured, and wish myself surrounded with many more spirits like thine, for then, from my exalted place, i could view the future and its portents with greater calmness of expectation, if not with more of hope. perhaps thou hast heard how sadly my inheritance has been weakened by enemies without and within; how, like limbs lopped from a stately tree, the themes [footnote: provinces.] richest in their yield of revenue have been wrested from the body of our state, until scarce more than the capital remains. i make the allusion in apology and excuse for the meagreness of what i have to bestow for thy many heroic services. wert thou in the prime of manhood, i would bring thee into the palace. that being impossible, i must confine myself to amends within my power. first, take thou liberty." the sailor sunk to his knees; then he fell upon his hands, and touched the floor with his forehead. in that posture, he waited the further speech. such was the prostration practised by the greeks in formally saluting their basileus. constantine proceeded. "take next the house here in the city which was thine when the judgment fell upon thee. it has been tenantless since, and may be in need of repairs; if so, report the cost they put thee to, and i will charge the amount to my civil list." looking then at the daughter, he added: "on our roumelian shore, up by therapia, there is a summer house which once belonged to a learned greek who was the happy possessor of a homer written masterfully on stainless parchment. he had a saying that the book should be opened only in a palace specially built for it; and, being rich, he indulged the fancy. he brought the marble from the pentelic quarries; nothing grosser was permitted in the construction. in the shade of a portico of many columns of corinthian model he passed his days reading to chosen friends, and living as the athenians were wont to live in the days of pericles. in my youth i dwelt much with him, and he so loved me that at dying he gave me the house, and the gardens and groves around it. they will help me now to make partial amends for injustice done; and when will a claimant appear with better right than the daughter of this brave man? in speaking but now, did he not call thee irene?" a flush overspread her neck and face, but she answered without other sign of feeling: "irene." "the house--it may be called a palace--and all that pertains to it, are thine," he continued. "go thither at will, and begin thy life anew." she took one step forward, but stopped as suddenly, her color coming and going. never had constantine seen wife or maid more beautiful. he almost dreaded lest the spell she cast over him would be broken by the speech trembling upon her lips. she moved quickly to the dais then, and taking his hand, kissed it fervently, saying: "almost i believe we have a christian emperor." she paused, retaining the hand, and looking up into his face. the spectators, mostly dignitaries of high degree, with their attendants, were surprised. some of them were shocked; for it should be remembered the court was the most rigidly ceremonial in the world. the rules governing it were the excerpt of an idea that the basileus or emperor was the incarnation of power and majesty. when spoken to by him, the proudest of his officials dropped their eyes to his embroidered slippers; when required to speak to him, they fell to their knees, and kept the posture till he was pleased to bid them rise. not one of them had ever touched his fingers, except when he deigned to hold them out to be most humbly saluted. their manner at such times was more than servility; in appearance, at least, it was worship. this explanation will enable the reader to understand the feeling with which they beheld the young woman keep the royal hand a prisoner in hers. some of them shuddered and turned their faces not to witness a familiarity so closely resembling profanation. constantine, on his part, looked down into the eyes of his fair kinswoman, knowing her speech was not finished. the slight inclination of his person toward her was intended for encouragement. indeed, he made no attempt to conceal the interest possessing him. "the empire may be shorn, even as thou hast said," she resumed presently, in a voice slightly raised. "but is not this city of our fathers by site and many advantages as much the capital of the world as ever? a christian emperor founded it, and his name was constantine; may it not be its perfect restoration is reserved for another constantine, also a christian emperor? search thy heart, o my lord! i have heard how noble impulses are often prophets without voices." constantine was impressed. from a young person, bred in what were really prison walls, the speech was amazing. he was pleased with the opinion she was evidently forming of himself; he was pleased with the hope she admitted touching the empire; he was pleased with the christian faith, the strength of mind, the character manifested. her loyalty to the old greek regime was unquestionable. the courtiers thought she might at least have made some acknowledgment of his princely kindness; but if he thought of the want of form, he passed it; enough for him that she was a lovely enthusiast. in the uncertainty of the moment, he hesitated; then, descending from the dais, he kissed her hand gracefully, courteously, reverently, and said simply: "may thy hope be god's will." turning from her, he helped the blind man to his feet, and declared the audience dismissed. alone with his secretary, the grand _logothete_, he sat awhile musing. "give ear," he at length said. "write it, a decree. fifty thousand gold pieces annually for the maintenance of manuel and irene, his daughter." the secretary at the first word became absorbed in studying his master's purple slippers; then, having a reply, he knelt. "speak," said constantine. "your majesty," the secretary responded, "there are not one thousand pieces in the treasury unappropriated." "are we indeed so poor?" the emperor sighed, but plucking spirit, went on bravely: "it may be god has reserved for me the restoration, not only of this city, but of the empire. i shall try to deserve the glory. and it may be that noble impulses _are_ speechless prophets. let the decree stand. heaven willing, we will find a way to make it good." chapter iii the homeric palace the reader is now informed of the history of irene, which is to he remembered as of an important personage in the succeeding pages. knowing also how she became possessed of the palace we have been at some pains to describe, he is prepared to see her at home. the night has retreated from the european shore of the bosphorus, although the morning is yet very young. the sun in the cloudless sky beyond becos, where it appears standing as if to rest from the fatigue of climbing the hills, is lifting therapia bodily out of its sparkling waters. in the bay moreover there are many calls of mariner to mariner, and much creaking of windlasses, and clashing of oars cast loose in their leather slings. to make the scene perfectly realistic there is a smell of breakfast cooking, not unpleasant to those within its waftage who are yet to have their appetites appeased. these sights, these sounds, these smells, none of them reach the palace in the garden under the promontory opposite the town. there the birds are singing their matin songs, the flowers loading the air with perfume, and vine and tree drinking the moisture borne down to them from the unresting sea so near in the north. [footnote: the black sea.] under the marble portico the mistress is sitting exactly in the place we can imagine the old greek loved most what time he read from his masterful copy of homer. between columns she saw the bosphorean expanse clear to the wooded asiatic shore. below was a portion of the garden through which the walk ran, with a graceful curve, to the red kiosk by the front gate. just beyond it the landing lay. around her were palm and rose trees in painted tubs, and in their midst, springing from a tall vase carven over with mythologic figures, a jasmine vine affected all the graces of its most delicate nature. within reach of her right hand there were platters of burnished brass on a table of ebony, its thin, spider legs inlaid with silver in lines. one of the platters bore a heap of white biscuits such as at this day are called crackers; the others supported pitchers, and some drinking cups, all of silver. the mistress sat in an arm-chair very smooth in finish despite the lineations sunk into its surfaces, and so roomy as to permit her to drop easily into a half-reclining posture. a footstool dressed in dark stamped leather was ready to lend its aid to gracefulness and comfort. we will presume now to introduce the reader to the princess irene, though, as the introduction must be in the way of description, our inability to render the subject adequately is admitted in advance. at the moment of first sight, she is sitting erect, her head turned slightly to the left shoulder, and both hands resting on the dog's head garnishing the right arm of the chair. she is gazing abstractedly out at the landing, as if waiting for some one overdue. the face is uncovered; and it is to be said here that, abhorring the custom which bound her byzantine sisterhood to veils, except when in the retiracy of their chambers, she was at all times brave enough to emphasize the abhorrence by discarding the encumbrance. she was never afraid of the effects of the sun on her complexion, and had the art of moving modestly and with composure among men, who, on their side, were used in meeting her to conceal their admiration and wonder under cover of grave respect. her figure, tall, slender, perfectly rounded, is clad in drapery of the purest classic mode. outwardly it consists of but two garments--a robe of fine white woollen stuff, and over it a mantle of the same texture and hue, hanging from a yoke of close-fitting flesh-colored silk richly embroidered with tyrian floss. a red rope loosely twisted girdles her body close under the breasts, from which, when she is standing, the gown in front falls to the feet, leaving a decided train. the mantle begins at a point just in front of the arm, under which, and along the sides, it hangs, like a long open sleeve, being cut away behind about half down the figure. the contrivance of the yoke enabled the artist, by gathering the drapery, to determine the lines in which it should drop, and they were few but positive. in movement, the train was to draw the gown to the form so its outlines could be easily followed from the girdle. the hair, of the tint of old gold, is dressed in the grecian style; and its abundance making the knot unusually ample, there was necessity for the two fillets of pink silk to keep it securely in place. the real difficulty in the description is now reached. to a reader of sharp imagination it might be sufficient to say the face of the princess irene, seen the morning in question, was perfectly regular, the brows like pencilling, the nose delicate, the eyes of violet shading into blackness, the mouth small with deep corners and lips threads of scarlet, the cheeks and brow precisely as the received law of beauty would have them. this would authorize a conception of surpassing loveliness; and perhaps it were better did we stop with the suggestions given, since the fancy would then be left to do its own painting. but patience is besought, for vastly more than a face of unrivalled perfection, the conjuration is a woman who yet lives in history as such a combination of intellect, spirit, character, and personal charm that men, themselves rulers and conquerors, fell before her at sight. under necessity therefore of going on with the description, what words are at command to convey an idea of the complexion--a property so wholly unartificial with her that the veins at the temples were as transparent shadows on snow, and the coloring of the cheeks like a wash of roses? what more is there than to point to the eyes of the healthful freshness peculiar to children of tender nurture; the teeth exquisitely regular and of the whiteness of milk and the lustre of pearls; the ears small, critically set, and tinted pink and white, like certain shells washed ashore last night? what more? ah, yes! there are the arms bare from the shoulder, long and round as a woman's should be, and terminating in flexile wrists, and hands so gracefully modelled we shrink from thought of their doing more than making wreaths of flowers and playing with harp strings. there too is the pose of the head expressive of breeding and delicacy of thought and feeling, of pride and courage--the pose unattainable by effort or affectation, and impossible except where the head, itself faultless, is complemented by a neck long, slender, yet round, pliant, always graceful, and set upon shoulders the despair of every one but the master who found perfection of form and finish in the lilies of the madonna. finally there is the correspondence, in action as well as repose, of body, limbs, head, and face, to which, under inspiration of the soul, the air and manner of lovely women are always referable. the princess was yet intensely observing the stretch of water before her, and the rapid changes of the light upon its face, when a boat, driven by a single oarsman, drew up to the landing, and disembarked a passenger. that he was not the person she was expecting became instantly apparent. she glanced at him once, and then, satisfied he was a stranger in whom she had no interest, resumed study of the bay. he, however, after dropping something in the boatman's hand, turned, and walked to the gateway, and through it towards the palace. ere long a servant, whose very venerable appearance belied the steel-pointed javelin he carried, hobbled slowly along the floor of the portico marshalling a visitor. she touched the golden knot at the back of her head to be assured of its arrangement, arose, shook out the folds of her gown and mantle, and was prepared for the interruption. the costume of the stranger was new to the princess. a cassock of mixed white and brown wool that had gone through a primitive loom with little of any curative process except washing, hung from his neck to his heels. aside from the coarseness of warp and woof, it fitted so closely that but for a slit on each side of the skirt walking would have been seriously impeded. the sleeves were long and loose, and covered the hands. from the girdle of untanned skin a double string of black horn beads, each large as a walnut, dropped to his knees. the buckle of the girdle, which might have been silver deeply oxidized, was conspicuously large, and of the rudest workmanship. but withal much the most curious part of the garb was the cowl, if such it may be called. projecting over the face so far as to cast the features in shadow, it carried on the sides of the head broad flaps, not unlike the ears of an elephant. this envelope was hideous, yet it served to exalt the man within to giantesque proportions. the princess surveyed the visitor with astonishment hardly concealed. what part of the world could produce a creature so utterly barbarous? what business could he have with her? was he young or old? twice she scanned him from head to foot. he was a monk; so much the costume certified; and while he stopped before her with one foot advanced from the edge of the skirt, and resting lightly in the clasp of the thongs of a very old-fashioned sandal, she saw it was white, and blue veined, and at the edges pink, like a child's, and she said to herself, "he is young--a young monastic." the stranger drew from his girdle a linen package carefully folded, kissed it reverently, and said: "would the princess irene be pleased if i open the favor for her?" the voice was manly, the manner deferential. "is it a letter?" she asked. "a letter from the holy father, the archimandrite of the greatest of the northern lavras." [footnote: monasteries.] "its name?" "bielo-osero." "the bielo-osero? where is it?" "in the country of the great prince." [footnote: russia.] "i knew not that i had an acquaintance in so distant a region as the north of russia. you may open the letter." unmindful of the indifferent air of the princess, the monk removed the cloth, leaving its folds hanging loosely from his hand. a sheet of vellum was exposed lying on the covered palm. "the holy father bade me when i delivered the writing, o princess, to deliver his blessing also; which--the saying is mine, not his--is of more worth to the soul than a coffer of gold for the wants of the body." the pious comment was not lost; but without a word, she took the vellum, and resuming her seat, addressed herself to the reading. first, her eyes dropped to the signature. there was a look of surprise--another of uncertainty--then an exclamation: "hilarion! not my father hilarion! he is but a sacred memory! he went away and died--and yet this is his hand. i know it as i know my own." the monk essayed to remove the doubt. "permit me," he said, then asked, "is there not an island hereabouts called prinkipo?" she gave him instant attention. "and on the side of the island over against the asiatic coast, under a hill named kamares, is there not a convent built centuries ago by an empress?" "irene," she interposed. "yes, irene--and was not father hilarion for many years abbot of the convent? then, on account of his fame for learning and piety, did not the patriarch exalt him to attendance on his own person as doctor of the gospels? still later, was he not summoned to serve the emperor in the capacity of warden of the purple ink?" "from whom have you all these things?" she asked. "excellent princess, from whom could i have them save the good father himself?" "thou art then his messenger?" "it becomes me better to refer you to what he has there written." so saying, the monk stepped backward, and stood a little way off in a respectful attitude. she raised the missive, and kissed the signature several times, exclaiming: "now hath god taken care of his own!" then she said to the monk, "thou art indeed a messenger with good tidings." and he, accepting the welcome, uncovered his head, by raising the hideous _klobouk_, [footnote: cowl.] and letting it fall back pendant from his shoulders. the violet eyes of the princess opened wider, brightening as with a sudden influx of light. she could not remember a finer head or a face more perfect in manly beauty, and at the same time so refined and gentle. and he was so young--young even as herself--certainly not more than twenty. such was her first general impression of him. for the pleasure there was in the surprise, she would not allow it to be observed, but said: "the father in his letter, no doubt, tells me thy name, but since i wish to reserve the reading, i hope thou wilt not be offended if i ask it directly." "the name my mother gave me is andre; but when i came to be a deacon in our bielo-osero, father hilarion, who presided at the raising, asked me how i wished to be known in the priesthood, and i answered him, sergius. andre was a good christening, and serves well to remind me of my dear mother; but sergius is better, because at hearing it i am always reminded that by vows and solemn rites of ordination i am a servant of god." "i will endeavor to remember thy preference," the princess said; "but just now, good sergius, it is of next importance to know if thou hast yet had breakfast?" a smile helped his face to even more of pleasantness. "no," he answered, "but i am used to fasting, and the great city is not more than two hours away." she looked concerned. "thy patron saint hath not deserted thee. here is a table already set. he for whom i held it is long on the road; thou shalt take his place, and be not less welcome." to the old servant she added: "we have a guest, not an enemy, lysander. put up thy javelin, and bring a seat for him; then stand behind him, lest it happen one service of the cups be not enough." directly the two were at the table opposite each other. chapter iv the russian monk sergius took a glass of red wine from the old attendant, and said: "i should like your permission, o princess, to make a confession." his manner was that of one unused to the society of women. he was conscious she was studying him, and spoke to divert her. as she was slow answering, he added: "that you may not think me disposed to abuse the acquaintance you honor me with, especially as you have not yet read the letter of the good father hilarion upon which i rely for your better regard, i ask the permission rather to show the degree of your kindness to me. it may interest you also to learn of the confirmation of a certain faith you are perhaps unwittingly lending a novice in the ways of the world." she had been studying him, and her first impression was now confirmed. his head in shape and pose was a poet's; the long, wavy, flaxen hair, parted in the middle, left small space for the forehead, which was nevertheless broad and white, with high-arched, well-defined brows for base. the eyes were gray. in repose they had a dreamy introspectional expression. the mustache and beard, the first growth of youth spent entirely indoors, were as yet too light to shade any part of the face. the nose was not enough _retrousse_ to be irregular. in brief, the monk was of the type now well known as russian. aside from height and apparent muscularity, he very nearly realized the byzantine ideal of christ as seen in the cartoons excellently preserved in a mosque of stamboul not far from the gate anciently san romain now _top kapoussi_. the appearance of the young monk, so strikingly suggestive of the being most sacred in the estimation of the princess, was at the moment less curious to her than a certain habit observable in him. the look of brightness attendant upon the thought he was putting into form would, when the utterance was through, suffer a lapse which, for want of strictly definite words, may be described as a sombering of the eyes when they were widest open, a gazing beyond at something else than the opposite speaker; implying that the soul was become mysteriously occupied apart from the mind. the effect was as if she had before her two widely different characters making themselves present at the same time in one person. unquestionably, though rarely, there is a duality of nature in men, by which, to put it extremely, a seeming incapable may be vastly capable, outward gentleness a mask for a spirit of neronian violence, dulness a low-lying cloud surcharged with genius. what shall be done with such a nature? when may it be relied upon? who shall ever come to really know it? occupied with the idea, the princess heard but the conclusion of the monk's somewhat awkward apology, and she answered: "the confession must be of something lighter than a sin. i will listen." "a sin!" he exclaimed, with a blush. "pardon me, o princess. it was a trifle of which i spoke too seriously. i promise thou shalt take from it nothing worse than a laugh at my simplicity. see thou these things?" he gave her a glance full of boyish humor, and from a breast pocket of his cassock drew a bag of coarse yellow silk; thrusting a hand into its mouth, he then brought out a number of square leathern chips stamped with sunken letters, and laid them on the table before her. "this you must know is our money." the princess examined the pieces, and said: "i doubt if our tradesmen would accept them." "they will not. i am a witness to the fact. nevertheless they will carry a traveller, go he either way, from one end of our great prince's realm to the other. when i left the lavra, setting out on my journey, father hilarion gave me the bag, saying, as he put it into my hand, 'now upon coming to the port where the ship awaits thee, be sure to exchange the money with the merchants there for byzantine gold; else, unless god come to thy aid, thou wilt be turned into a mendicant.' and so i fully meant to do; but when i reached the port, i found it a city large, and full of people and sights wonderful to me, demanding to be seen. i forgot the injunction. indeed i never thought of it until this morning." here he laughed at himself, proving he was not yet seriously alive to the consequences of his negligence. presently he resumed: "i landed only last night, and sick from the tossing of the sea, put up at an inn in the town yonder. i ordered breakfast, and, according to a custom of my people, offered to pay before tasting. the master of the house looked at my money, and told me to show him coin of gold; if not that, then copper or brass, or even iron, in pieces bearing the name of the emperor. being told i had only this, he bade me look elsewhere for breakfast. now i had designed going to the great city to kiss the hand of the patriarch, of whom i have always heard as the wisest of men, before coming to thee; but the strait i was in was hard. could i expect better of the innkeepers there? i had a button of gold--a memorial of my entry into the lavra. that day father hilarion blessed it three times; and it bore a cross upon its face which i thought might make it acceptable as if it were lettered with the name of constantine. a boatman consented to take it for rowing me to thy landing. behold! thou hast my confession!" his speech to this time had been in greek singularly pure and fluent; now he hesitated, while his eyes, open to the full, sombered, as if from a field in the brain back of them a shadow was being cast through his face. when next he spoke it was in his native tongue. the princess observed her guest with increasing interest; for she was wholly unused to such artlessness in men. how could father hilarion have intrusted business of importance to an envoy so negligent? his confession, as he termed it, was an admission, neither more nor less, that he had no money of the country into which he was come. and further, how could the habit of lapsing in thought, or more simply, of passing abruptly from the present subject, be explained except on the theory of something to which he had so given himself it had become overmastering and all absorbent? this, she saw intuitively, would prove the key to the man; and she set about finding it out. "your greek, good sergius, is excellent; yet i did not understand the words with which you concluded." "i beg pardon," he replied, with a change of countenance. "in my mother's tongue i repeated a saying of the psalmist, which you shall have voice and look as father hilarion has given it to me oftener than i am days old." then his voice lowered into a sweet intensity fitting the text: "'the lord is my shepherd; i shall not want.' those were the words, princess; and who shall say they do not comprehend all there is of religion?" the answer was unexpected, the manner affecting; never had she heard conviction and faith more perfectly affirmed. more than a monk, the young man might be a preacher! and father hilarion might have grown wiser of his years! perhaps he knew, though at a vast distance, that the need of the hour in constantinople was not a new notable--a bishop or a legate--so much as a voice with power of persuasion to still the contentions with which her seven hills were then resounding. the idea, though a surmise, was strong enough to excite a desire to read the holy man's letter. she even reproached herself for not having done so. "the worthy priest gave me the same saying in the same words," she said, rising, "and they lose nothing of their meaning by thy repetition. we may speak of them hereafter. for the present, to keep thee from breakfast were cruel. i will go and make terms with my conscience by reading what thou hast brought me from the father. help thyself freely as if thou wert the most favored of guests; or rather "--she paused to emphasize the meaning--"as though i had been bidden to prepare for thy coining. should there be failure in anything before thee, scruple not to ask for more. lysander will be at thy service. i may return presently." the monk arose respectfully, and stood until she disappeared behind the vases and flowers, leaving in his memory a fadeless recollection of graciousness and beauty, which did not prevent him from immediately addressing himself as became a hungry traveller. chapter v a voice from the cloister while the princess irene traversed the portico, she repeated the words, the lord is my shepherd; i shall not want; and she could see how the negligent, moneyless monk, turned away at the inn, was provided for in his moment of need, and also that she was the chosen purveyor; if so, by whom chosen? the young man had intended calling on the patriarch first; who brought him to her? the breakfast was set for an invited guest; what held him back, if not the power that led the stranger to her gate? in saying now that one of the consequences of the religious passion characteristic of the day in the east--particularly in constantinople--a passion so extreme as to induce the strongest minds to believe god, and the son, and even the holy mother discernible in the most commonplace affairs--our hope is to save the princess from misjudgment. really the most independent and fearless of spirits, if now and then she fell into the habit of translating the natural into the supernatural, she is entitled to mercy, since few things are harder to escape than those of universal practice. through a doorway, chiselled top and jambs, she entered a spacious hall nude of furniture, though richly frescoed, and thence passed into a plain open, court coolly shaded, having in the centre a jet of water which arose and fell into a bowl of alabaster. the water overflowing the bowl was caught again in a circular basin which, besides the ornamental carving on the edge and outside, furnished an ample pool for the gold fish disporting in it. in the court there were also a number of women, mostly young greeks, sewing, knitting, and embroidering vestments. upon her entrance they arose, let their work drop on the spotless white marble at their feet, and received her in respectful silence. signing them to resume their labor, she took a reserved chair by the fountain. the letter was in her hand, but a thought had the precedence. admitting she had been chosen to fulfil the saying quoted, was the call for the once only? when the monk went up to the city, was her ministry to end? would not that be a half-performance? how much farther should she go? she felt a little pang of trouble, due to the uncertainty that beset her, but quieted it by an appeal to the letter. crossing herself, and again kissing the signature, she began the reading, which, as the hand was familiar to her, and the composition in the most faultless greek of the period, was in nowise a perplexity. "bielo-osero, _d june_, . "from hilarion, the hegumen, to irene, his well-beloved daughter. "thou hast thought of me this longtime as at rest forever--at rest with the redeemer. while there is nothing so the equivalent of death as silence, there is no happiness so sweet as that which springs upon us unexpectedly. in the same sense the resurrection was the perfect complement of the crucifixion. more than all else, more than the sermon on the mount, more than his miracles, more than his unexampled life, it lifted our lord above the repute of a mere philosopher like socrates. we have tears for his much suffering; but we sing as miriam sang when we think of his victory over the grave. i would not compare myself to him; yet it pleases me believing these lines, so unexpected, will give thee a taste of the feeling the marys had, when, with their spices in hand, they sought the sepulchre and found only the angels there. "let me tell thee first of my disappearance from constantinople. i repented greatly my taking from the old convent by the patriarch; partly because it separated me from thee at a time when thy mind was opening to receive the truth and understand it. yet the call had a sound as if from god. i feared to disobey it. "then came the summons of the emperor. he had heard of my life, and, as a counteraction of vice, he wanted its example in the palace. i held back. but the patriarch prevailed on me, and i went up and suffered myself to be installed keeper of the purple ink. then indeed i became miserable. to such as i, what is sitting near the throne? what is power when not an instrument of mercy, justice and charity? what is easy life, except walking in danger of habits enervating to the hope of salvation? oh, the miseries i witnessed! and how wretched the sight of them, knowing they were beyond my help! i saw moreover the wickedness of the court. did i speak, who listened except to revile me? went i to celebrations in this or that church, i beheld only hypocrisy in scarlet. how often, knowing the sin-stains upon the hands of the celebrants at the altar in sta. sophia, the house in holiness next to the temple of solomon--how often, seeing those hands raise the blood of christ in the cup before the altar, have i trembled, and looked for the dome above to let consuming vengeance in upon us, the innocent with the guilty! "at last fear filled all my thoughts, and forbade sleep or any comfort. i felt i must go, and quickly, or be lost for denial of covenants made with him, the ultimate judge, in whose approval there is the peace that passeth understanding. i was like one pursued by a spirit making its presence known to me in sobs and plaints, stinging as conscience stings. "consent to my departure was not to be expected; for great men dislike to have their favors slighted. it was not less clear that formal resignation of the official honor i was supposed to be enjoying would be serviceable to the courtiers who were not so much my enemies personally as they were enemies of religion and contemners of all holy observances. and there were so many of them! alas, for the admission! what then was left but flight? "whither? i thought first of jerusalem; but who without abasement can inhabit with infidels? then hagion oras, the holy hill, occurred to me; the same argument applied against it as against return to the convent of irene-i would be in reach of the emperor's displeasure. one can study his own heart. holding mine off, and looking at it alive with desires holy and unholy, i detected in it a yearning for hermitage. how beautiful solitude appears! in what condition can one wishing to change his nature for the better more certainly attain the end than without companionship except of god always present? the spirit of prayer is a delicate minister; where can we find purer nourishment for it than in the silence which at noon is deep as at midnight? "in this mood the story of the russian st. sergius reverted to me. he was born at rostoff. filled with pious impulses more than dissatisfied with the world, of which he knew nothing, with a brother, he left his father's house when yet a youth and betook himself to a great woods in the region radenego; there he dwelt among savage beasts and wild men, fasting and praying and dependent like elijah of old. his life became a notoriety. others drew to him. with his own hands he built a wooden church for his disciples, giving it the name of troitza or thrice holy trinity. thither i wandered in thought. a call might be there for me, so weary of the egotism, envy, detraction, greed, grind and battle of the soulless artificiality called society. "i left blacherne in the night, and crossing the sea in the north--no wonder it is so terrible to the poor mariner who has to hunt his daily bread upon its treacherous waves--i indulged no wait until, in the stone church of the holy trinity, i knelt before the remains of the revered russian hermit, and thanked god for deliverance and freedom. "the troitza was no longer the simple wooden church of its founder. i found it a collection of monasteries. the solitude of my dreams was to be sought northward further. some years before, a disciple of sergius--cyrill by name, since canonized--unterrified by winters which dragged through three quarters of the year, wandered off to a secluded place on the shore of the white lake, where he dwelt until, in old age, a holy house was required to accommodate his following. he called it bielo-osero. there i installed myself, won by the warmth of my welcome. "now when i departed from blacherne, i took with me, besides the raiment i wore, two pieces of property; a copy of the rule of the studium monastery, and a _panagia_ given me by the patriarch--a medallion portrait of the blessed mother of our lord the saviour, framed in gold, and set in brilliants. i carry it hanging from my neck. even in sleep it is always lying just above my heart. the day is not far now when my need of it will be over; then i will send it to thee in notice that i am indeed at rest, and that in dying i wished to lend thee a preservative against ills of the soul and fear of death. "the rule was acceptable to the brotherhood. they adopted it, and its letter and spirit prevailing, the house came in time to be odorous for sanctity. eventually, though against my will, they raised me their hegumen. and so my story reaches its end. may it find thee enjoying the delight of the soul's rest i have been enjoying without interruption since i began life anew in this retreat, where the days are days of prayer, and the nights illuminated by visions of paradise and heaven. "in the next place, i pray thou wilt take the young brother by whom this will be delivered into friendly care. i myself raised him to a deaconship of our monastery. his priestly name is sergius. he was scarcely out of boyhood when i came here; it was not long, however, before i discovered in him the qualities which drew me to thee during thy prison life at the old convent of irene--a receptive mind, and a native proneness to love god. i made his way easy. i became his teacher, as i had been thine; and as the years flew by he reminded me more and more of thee, not merely with respect to mental capacity, but purity of soul and aspiration as well. need i say how natural it was for me to love him? had i not just come from loving thee? "the brethren are good men, though unmannerly, and for the most part the word reaches them from some other's tongue. filling the lad's mind was like filling a lamp with oil. how precious the light it would one day shed abroad! and how much darkness there was for it to dispel! and in the darkness--mercy, mercy! how many are in danger of perishing! "never did i think myself so clearly a servant of god as in the time sergius was under my instruction. thou, alas! being a woman, wert like a strong-winged bird doomed at best to a narrow cage. the whole world was before him. "of the many notes i have been compelled to take of the wants of religion in this our age, none so amazes me as the lack of preachers. we have priests and monks. their name is legion. who of them can be said to have been touched with the fire that fell upon the faithful of the original twelve? where among them is an athanasius? or a chrysostom? or an augustine? slowly, yet apace with his growth, i became ambitious for the young man. he showed quickness and astonishing courage. no task appalled him. he mastered the tongues of the nationalities represented around him as if he were born to them. he took in memory the gospels, the psalms, and the prophetic books of the bible. he replies to me in greek undistinguishable from mine. i began to dream of him a preacher like st. paul. i have heard him talking in the stone chapel, when the sleet-ridden winds without had filled it with numbing frost, and seen the brotherhood rise from their knees, and shout, and sing, and wrestle like madmen. it is not merely words, and ideas, and oratorical manner, but all of them, and more--when aroused, he has the faculty of pouring out his spirit, so that what he says takes hold of a hearer, making him calm if in a passion, and excited if in a calm. the willing listen to him from delight, the unwilling and opposite minded because he enchains them. "the pearl seemed to me of great price. i tried to keep it free of the dust of the world. with such skill as i possess, i have worn its stains and roughnesses away, and added to its lustre. now it goes from me. "you must not think because i fled to this corner of the earth, there is any abatement of my affection for constantinople; on the contrary, absence has redoubled the love for it with which i was born. is it not still the capital of our holy religion? occasionally a traveller comes this way with news of the changes it has endured. thus one came and reported the death of the emperor john, and the succession of constantine; another told of justice finally done thy heroic father, and of thy prosperity; more lately a wandering monk, seeking solitude for his soul's sake, joined our community, and from him i hear that the old controversy with the latins has broken out anew, and more hotly than ever; that the new emperor is an _azymite_, and disposed to adhere to the compact of union of the churches east and west made with the pope of rome by his predecessor, leaving heart-blisters burning as those which divided the jews. indeed, i much fear the likeness may prove absolute. it certainly will when the turk appears before our holy city as titus before jerusalem. "this latest intelligence induced me at last to yield to sergius' entreaties to go down to constantinople, and finish there the courses begun here. it is true he who would move the world must go into the world; at the same time i confess my own great desire to be kept informed of the progress of the discussion between the churches had much to do with my consent to his departure. he has instructions to that effect, and will obey them. therefore i pray thee receive him kindly for his own sake, for mine, and the promise of good in him to the cause of jesus, our beloved master. "in conclusion, allow me, daughter--for such thou wert to thy father, to thy mother, and to me--allow me to recur to circumstances which, after calm review, i pronounce the most interesting, the most delightful, the most cherished of my life. "the house under the kameses hill at prinkipo was a convent or refuge for women rather than men; yet i was ordered thither when thy father was consigned to it after his victory over the turks. i was then comparatively young, but still recollect the day he passed the gate going in with his family. thenceforward, until the patriarch took me away, i was his confessor. "death is always shocking. i remember its visits to the convent while i was of its people; but when it came and took thy sisters we were doubly grieved. as if the ungrateful emperor could not be sufficiently cruel, it seemed heaven must needs help him. the cloud of those sad events overhung the community a long time; at length there was a burst of sunshine. one came to my cell and said, 'come, rejoice with us--a baby is born in the house.' thou wert the baby; and thy appearance was the first of the great gladnesses to which i have referred. "and not less distinctly i live over the hour we met in the chapel to christen thee. the bishop was the chief celebrant; but not even the splendor of his canonicals--the cope with the little bells sewn down the sides and along the sleeves, the ompharium, the _panagia_, the cross, the crozier--were enough to draw my eyes from the dimpled pink face half-hidden in the pillow of down on which they held thee up before the font. and now the bishop dipped his fingers in the holy water--'by what name is this daughter to be known?' and i answered, 'irene.' thy parents had been casting about for a name. 'why not call her after the convent?' i asked. they accepted the suggestion; and when i gave it out that great day--to the convent it was holiday--it seemed a door in my heart of which i was unknowing opened of itself, and took thee into a love-lined chamber to be sweet lady at home forever. such was the second of my greatest happinesses. "and then afterwhile thy father gave thee over to me to be educated. i made thy first alphabet, illuminating each letter with my own hand. dost thou remember the earliest sentence i heard thee read? or, if ever thou dost think of it now, be reminded it was thy first lesson in writing and thy first in religion--'the lord is my shepherd; i shall not want.' and thence what delight i found in helping thee each day a little further on in knowledge until at length we came to where thou couldst do independent thinking. "it was in sta. sophia--in my memory not more than an occurrence of yesterday. thou and i had gone from the island up to the holy house, where we were spectators of a service at which the emperor, as basileus, and the patriarch were celebrants. the gold on cope and ompharium cast the space about the altar into a splendor rich as sunshine. then thou asked me, 'did christ and his disciples worship in a house like this? and were they dressed as these are?' i was afraid of those around us, and told thee to use eye and ear, but the time for questions and answers would be when we were back safely in the old convent. "when we were there, thou didst renew the questions, and i did not withhold the truth. i told thee of the lowliness and simple ways of jesus--how he was clothed--how the out-doors was temple sufficient for him. i told thee of his preaching to the multitude on the shore of the galilean sea--i told of his praying in the garden of gethsemane--i told of the attempt to make a king of him whether he would or not, and how he escaped from the people--of how he set no store by money or property, titles, or worldly honors. "then thou didst ask, 'who made worship so formal?' and again i answered truthfully, there was no church until after the death of our lord; that in course of two hundred years kings, governors, nobles and the great of the earth were converted to the faith, and took it under their protection; that then, to conform it to their tastes and dignity, they borrowed altars from pagans, and recast the worship so sumptuously in purple and gold the apostles would not have recognized it. then, in brief, i began telling thee of the primitive church of christ, now disowned, forgotten or lost in the humanism of religious pride. "oh, the satisfaction and happiness in that teaching! at each lesson it seemed i was taking thee closer to the dear christ from whom the world is every year making new roads to get further away--the dear christ in search of whom i plunged into this solitude. "how is it with thee now, my daughter? dost thou still adhere to the primitive church? do not fear to speak thy mind to sergius. he too is in the secret of our faith, believing it best to love our lord from what our lord hath himself said. "now i bring this letter to a close. let me have reply by sergius, who, when he has seen constantinople, will come back to me, unless he who holds every man's future in keeping discovers for him a special use. "do not forget me in thy prayers. "blessings on thee! hilarion." the princess read the letter a second time. when she came to the passage referring to the primitive church, her hands dropped into her lap, and she thought: "the father planted right well--better than he was aware, as he himself would say did he know my standing now." a glow which might have been variously taken for half-serious, half-mocking defiance shone in her eyes as the thought ran on: "ay, dear man! did he know that for asserting the primitive church as he taught it to me in the old convent, the greeks and the latins have alike adjudged me a heretic; that nothing saves me from the lions of the cynegion, except my being a woman--a woman forever offending by going when and where i wist with my face bare, and therefore harmless except to myself. if he knew this, would he send me his blessing? he little imagined--he who kept his opinion to himself because he could see no good possible from its proclamation--that i, the prison-bred girl he so loved, and whom he helped make extreme in courage as in conviction, would one day forget my sex and condition, and protest with the vehemence of a man against the religious madness into which the christian world is being swept. oh, that i were a man!" folding the letter hastily, she arose to return to her guest. there was fixedness of purpose in her face. "oh, that i were a man!" she repeated, while passing the frescoed hall on the way out. in the portico, with the white light of the marble whitening her whole person, and just as the monk, tall, strong, noble looking, despite the grotesqueness of his attire, was rising from the table, she stopped, and clasped her hands. "i have been heard!" she thought, trembling. "that which it refused to make me, heaven has sent me. here is a man! and he is certified as of my faith, and has the voice, the learning, the zeal and courage, the passion of truth to challenge a hearing anywhere. welcome sergius! in want thou camest; in want thou didst find me. the lord _is_ shepherd unto us both." she went to him confidently, and offered her hand. her manner was irresistible; he had no choice but to yield to it. "thou art not a stranger, but sergius, my brother. father hilarion has explained everything." he kissed her hand, and replied: "i was overbold, princess; but i knew the father would report me kindly; and i was hungry." "it is my part now to see the affliction comes not back again. so much has the shepherd already determined. but, speaking as thy sister, sergius, thy garments appear strange. doubtless they were well enough in the bielo-osero, where the rule of the studium is law instead of fashion; but here we must consult customs or be laughed at, which would be fatal to the role i have in mind for thee." then with a smile, she added, "observe the dominion i have already assumed." he answered with a contented laugh: whereupon she went on, but more gravely: "we have the world to talk over; but lysander will now take you to your room, and you will rest until about mid-afternoon, when my boat will come to the landing to carry us to the city. the cowl you must exchange for a hat and veil, the sandals for shoes, the coarse cassock for a black gown; and, if we have time, i will go with you to the patriarch." sergius followed lysander submissively as a child. chapter vi what do the stars say? the sun which relieved the bay of therapia from the thraldom of night did the same service for the golden horn; only, with a more potential voice, it seemed to say to the cities which were the pride of the latter, awake! arise! and presently they were astir indoor and out. of all the souls who, obedient to the early summons, poured into the street, and by the south window of the study of the prince of india, some going this direction, some that, yet each intent upon a particular purpose, not one gave a thought to the prince, or so much as wondered if he were awake. and the indifference of the many was well for him; it gave him immunity to pursue his specialty. but as we, the writer and the reader, are not of the many, and have an interest in the man from knowing more about him than they, what would have been intrusion in them may be excused in us. exactly at midnight the prince, aroused by syama, had gone to the roof, where there was a table, with a lamp upon it which he could shade at pleasure, an hour-glass, and writing materials. an easy chair was also set for him. the view of the city offered for his inspection was circumscribed by the night. the famous places conspicuous in daytime might as well have been folded up and put away in a closet; he could not see so much as a glimmer of light from any of them. pleased thereby, and arguing that even the wicked are good when asleep, he swept the heavens with a glance so long and searching there could be no doubt of the purpose which had brought him forth. next, according to the habit of astrologers, he proceeded to divide the firmament into angles and houses, and taking seat by the table, arranged the lamp to suit him, started the hour-glass running, and drew a diagram familiar to every adept in divinatory science--a diagram of the heavens with the houses numbered from one to twelve inclusive. in the houses he then set the mystic symbols of the visible planets as they were at the moment in position, mindful not merely of the parallels, but of the degrees as well. verifying the correctness of the diagram by a second survey of the mighty overarch more careful even than the first, he settled himself in the chair, saying complacently: "now, o saturn, thou, the coldest and highest! thy houses are ready--come, and at least behold them. i wait the configurations." thereupon, perfectly at ease, he watched the stellar hosts while, to their own music, they marched past the thrones of the most high planets unchallenged except by him. occasionally he sat up to reverse the hour-glass, though more frequently he made new diagrams, showing the changes in position of the several influential bodies relatively to each other and to the benefic or malific signs upon which so much of result depended; nor did his eyes once weary or his zeal flag. finally when the sun, yet under the horizon behind the heights of scutari, began to flood the sky with a brilliance exceeding that of the bravest of the stars, he collected the drawings, extinguished the lamp, and descended to his study, but not to rest. immediately that the daylight was sufficient, he addressed himself to mathematical calculations which appeared exhaustive of every rule and branch of the disciplinary science. hours flew by, and still he worked. he received syama's call to breakfast; returning from the meal, always the simplest of the day with him, he resumed the problem. either he was prodigiously intent on a scheme in mind, or he was occupying himself diligently in order to forget himself. about noon he was interrupted. "my father." recognizing the voice, he pushed the proofs of labor from him almost to the other side of the table, turned in his seat, and replied, his face suffused with pleasure: "thou enemy to labor! did not some one tell thee of what i have on hand, and how i am working to finish it in time to take the water with thee this afternoon? answer, o my gul-bahar, more beautiful growing as the days multiply!" the lael of the son of jahdai, the gul-bahar of the mysterious prince, was much grown, and otherwise greatly changed since we saw her last. each intervening year had in passing left her a benediction. she was now about sixteen, slight, and jewish in eyes, hair, and complexion. the blood enriched her olive cheeks; the lips took a double freshness from health; the smile resting habitually on the oval face had a tale it was always telling of a nature confiding, happy, satisfied with its conditions, hopeful of the future, and unaware from any sad experience that life ever admitted of changes. her beauty bore the marks of intelligence; her manner was not enough self-contained to be called courtly; yet it was easy, and carried its own certificate of culture; it yielded too much to natural affection to deserve the term dignified. one listening to her, and noticing the variableness of her mood, which in almost the same instant could pass from gay to serious without ever reaching an extreme, would pronounce her too timid for achievement outside the purely domestic; at the same time he would think she appeared lovable to the last degree, and might be capable of loving in equal measure. she was dressed in byzantine fashion. in crossing the street from her father's house, she had thrown a veil over her head, but it was now lying carelessly about her neck. the wooden sandals with blocks under them, like those yet worn by women in levantine countries to raise them out of the dust and mud when abroad, had been shaken lightly from her feet at the top of the stairs. perfectly at home, she advanced to the table, and put one of her bare arms around the old man's neck, regardless of the white locks it crushed close down, and replied: "thou flatterer! do i not know beauty is altogether in the eye of the beholder, and that all persons do not see alike? tell me why, knowing the work was to be done, you did not send for me to help you? was it for nothing you made me acquainted with figures until--i have your authority for the saying--i might have stood for professor of mathematics in the best of the alexandrian schools? do not shake your head at me--or"-- with the new idea all alight in her face, she ran around the table, and caught up one of the diagrams. "ah, it is as i thought, father! the work i love best, and can do best! whose is the nativity? not mine, i know; for i was born in the glad time when venus ruled the year. anael, her angel, held his wings over me against this very wry-faced, snow-chilled saturn, whom i am so glad to see in the seventh house, which is the house of woe. whose the nativity, i say?" "nay, child--pretty child, and wilful--you have a trick of getting my secrets from me. i sometimes think i am in thy hands no more than tawdry lace just washed and being wrung preparatory to hanging in the air from thy lattice. it is well for you to know there are some things out of your reach--for the time at least." "that is saying you will tell me." "yes--some day." "then i will be patient." seeing him become thoughtful, and look abstractedly out of the window, she laid the diagram down, went back, and again put her arm around his neck. "i did not come to interrupt you, father, but to learn two things, and run away." "you begin like a rhetorician. what subdivisions lie under those two things? speak!" "thank you," she replied, quickly. "first, syama told me you were at some particular task, and i wanted to know if i could help you." "dear heart!" he said, tenderly. "next--and this is all--i did not want you to forget we are to go up the bosphorus this afternoon--up to therapia, and possibly to the sea." "you wish to go?" he asked. "i dreamt of it all night." "then we will; and to prove i did not forget, the boatmen have their orders already. we go to the landing directly after noon." "not too soon," she answered, laughing. "i have to dress, and make myself gorgeous as an empress. the day is soft and kind, and there will be many people on the water, where i am already known quite as well as here in the city as the daughter of the prince of india." he replied with an air of pride: "thou art good enough for an emperor." "then i may go and get ready." she withdrew her arm, kissed him, and started to the door, but returned, with a troubled look. "one thing more, father." he was recovering his work, but stopped, and gave her ear. "what is it?" "you have said, good father, that as my studies were too confining, it would be well if i took the air every day in my sedan. so, sometimes with syama, sometimes with nilo, i had the men carry me along the wall in front of the bucoleon. the view over the sea toward mt. ida is there very beautiful; and if i look to the landward side, right at my feet are the terraced gardens of the palace. nowhere do the winds seem sweeter to me. for their more perfect enjoyment i have at moments alighted from the chair, and walked; always avoiding acquaintances new and old. the people appear to understand my preference, and respect it. of late, however, one person--hardly a man--has followed me, and stopped near by when i stopped; he has even persisted in attempts to speak to me. to avoid him, i went to the hippodrome yesterday, and taking seat in front of the small obelisks in that quarter, was delighted with the exhibition of the horsemen. just when the entertainment was at its height, and most interesting, the person of whom i am speaking came and sat on the same bench with me. i arose at once. it is very annoying, father. what shall i do?" the prince did not answer immediately, and when he did, it was to ask, suggestively: "you say he is young?" "yes." "his dress?" "he seems to be fond of high colors." "you asked no question concerning him?" "no. whom could i ask?" again the prince reflected. outwardly he was unconcerned; yet his blood was more than warm--the blood of pride which, as every one knows, is easily started, and can go hissing hot. he did not wish her to think of the affair too much; therefore his air of indifference; nevertheless it awoke a new train of thought in him. if one were to insult this second lael of his love, what could he do? the idea of appeal to a magistrate was irritating. were he to assume punishment of the insolence, from whom could he hope justice or sympathy--he, a stranger living a mysterious life? he ran hastily over the resorts at first sight open to him. nilo was an instrument always ready. a word would arouse the forces in that loyal but savage nature, and they were forces subject to cunning which never slept, never wearied, and was never in a hurry--a passionless cunning, like that of the fedavies of the old man of the mountain. it may be thought the prince was magnifying a fancied trouble; but the certainty that sorrow _must_ overtake him for every indulgence of affection was a haunting shadow always attending the most trifling circumstance to set his imagination conjuring calamities. that at such times his first impulse was toward revenge is explicable; the old law, an eye for an eye, was part of his religion; and coupling it with personal pride which a thought could turn into consuming heat, how natural if, while the anticipation was doing its work, his study should be to make the revenge memorable! feeling he was not entirely helpless in the affair, he thought best to be patient awhile, and learn who was the offender; a conclusion followed by a resolution to send uel with the girl next time she went to take the air. "the young men of the city are uncontrolled by respect or veneration," he said, quietly. "the follies they commit are sometimes ludicrous. better things are not to be looked for in a generation given to dress as a chief ambition. and then it may be, o my gul-bahar"--he kissed her as he uttered the endearment--"it may be he of whom you complain does not know who you are. a word may cure him of his bad manners. do not appear to notice him. have eyes for everything in the world but him; that is the virtuous woman's defence against vulgarity and insult under every circumstance. go now, and make ready for the boat. put on your gayest; forget not the last necklace i gave you--and the bracelets--and the girdle with the rubies. the water from the flying oars shall not outflash my little girl. there now--of course we will go to the landing in our chairs." when she disappeared down the stairs, he went back to his work. chapter vii the prince of india meets constantine it is to be remembered now, as very material to our story, that the day the prince of india resolved on the excursion up the bosphorus with lael the exquisite stretch of water separated the territorial possessions of the greek emperor and the sultan of the turks. in the utmost of the once vast roman dominions was "a corner of thrace between the propontis (marmora) and the black sea, about fifty miles in length and thirty in breadth." [footnote: gibbon.] when constantine dragases--he of whom we are writing--ascended the throne, the realm was even more diminished. galata, just across the golden horn, had become a genoese stronghold. scutari, on the asiatic shore almost _vis-a-vis_ with constantinople, was held by a turkish garrison. with small trouble the sultan could have converted the pitiful margin between galata and the cyanean rocks on the black sea. once indeed he set siege to constantinople, but was beaten off, it was said, by the mother of god, who appeared upon the walls of the city, and in person took part in the combat. thereafter he contented himself with a tribute from the emperors manuel and john palaeologus. the relations of the christian and moslem potentates being thus friendly, it can be seen how the princess irene could keep to her palace by therapia and the prince of india plan jaunts along the bosphorus. still there is a point to be borne in mind. ships under christian flags seldom touched at a landing upon the asiatic shore. their captains preferred anchoring in the bays and close under the ivy-covered heights of europe. this was not from detestation or religious intolerance; at bottom there was a doubt of the common honesty of the strong-handed turk amounting to fear. the air was rife with stories of his treachery. the fishermen in the markets harrowed the feelings of their timid customers with tales of surprises, captures, and abductions. occasionally couriers rushed through the gates of constantinople to report red banners in motion, and the sound of clarions and drums, signifying armies of moslems gathering for mysterious purposes. the moslems, on their part, it is but fair to say, were possessed of the same doubts of the christians, and had answers to accusations always ready. the surprises, captures, and abductions were the unlicensed savageries of brigands, of whom they never knew one not a greek; while the music and flags belonged to the militia. six or seven miles above scutari a small river, born in the adjacent highlands, runs merrily down to meet and mingle with the tideless bosphorus. the water it yields is clear and fresh; whence the name of the stream, the sweet waters of asia. on its south side there is a prairie-like stretch, narrow, but green and besprent with an orchard of sycamores old and gnarled, and now much frequented on mohammedan sundays by ladies of the harems, who contrive to make it very gay. no doubt the modest river, and the grass and great trees were just as attractive ages before the first amurath, with an army at his heels, halted there for a night. from that time, however, it was banned by the greeks; and for a reason. on the north bank of the little river there was a fortress known as the white castle. an irregular, many-angled pile of undressed stone heavily merloned on top, its remarkable feature was a tall donjon which a dingy white complexion made visible a great distance, despite its freckling of loopholes and apertures for machine artillery. seeing its military importance, the sultan left a garrison to hold it. he was also pleased to change its name to acce-chisar. the blood-red flag on this donjon was, at the era engaging us, the disenchanter of the greeks; insomuch that in passing the sweet waters of asia they hugged the opposite shore of the bosphorus, crossing themselves and muttering prayers often of irreligious compound. a stork has a nest on the donjon now. as an apparition it is not nearly so suggestive as the turbaned sentinel who used to occupy its outlook. the popular imagination located dungeons under the grim old castle, whence, of the many christian men and women immured there, it was said none ever came forth alive. but for these things, whether true or false, the prince of india cared little. he was not afraid of the turks. if the asiatic shore had been festooned with red flags from the city of the blind down by the isles of the princes to the last of the gray fortresses overlooking the symplegades, it would not have altered a plan of his jot or tittle. enough that lael wanted and needed an outing on the glorious bosphorus. accordingly, shortly after noon two chairs were brought and set down in his house. that is to say, two upright boxes fixed centrally on poles, and differing in nowise from the sedans still the mode of carriage affected by ladies of constantinople unless it might be in their richer appointments. inside, all was silk, lace and cushions; outside, the inlaying of mother of pearl and vari-colored woods was suggestive of modern papier-mache. the entrance was by a door in the front. a window in the door, and lesser ones on the sides, afforded the inmate air and opportunity for speech. not wanting to be seen, she had only to draw the curtains together. in this instance it must be said the decoration of the carriages had been carried to an extreme. soon as the chairs were set down in the house, the prince and lael descended the stairs. the latter was attired in a semi-greek costume, very rich and becoming; to embroidery of gold, she added bracelets, and a necklace of large pearls strung between spheres of gold equally large. a coronet graced her head, and it was so bejewelled that in bright light it seemed some one was sprinkling her with an incessant shower of sparkles. the two took their seats. the carriers, two to each litter, stalwart men, uniformly clad in loose white garments, raised the poles on their shoulders. syama threw the door of the house open, and at a signal from the prince the procession sallied into the street. the crowd, in expectant waiting there, received it in silent wonder. it is due the truth to say now that the common eye was attracted by the appearance of nilo as much as by the rarities wrought in the panelling of the carriages. he strode ten or twelve feet in advance of lael who, in the place of honor, was completely under the prince's observation. the negro's costume was of a king of kash-cush. the hair stood on end in stiff cues, sharply pointed, and held by a chain of silver medals; an immense ring of silver hung from the cartilage of his nose. the neck was defended by a gorget of leather bristling with the fangs and claws of tigers in alternating rows. a robe of scarlet cloth large enough to envelop the man was thrown behind the massive shoulders. the body, black as polished ebony, was naked to the waist, whence a white skirt fell to the knees. the arms and legs were adorned with bracelets and anklets of ivory, while the straps of the heavy sandals were bordered with snail-shells. on the left arm he bore a round shield of rhinoceros hide embossed in brass; in the right hand, a pointless lance. towering high above the heads of the crowd which opened before him with alacrity, the admiration received by the prince's ally and friend was but a well-deserved tribute. "a tiger-hunter!" said one, to a friend at his elbow. "i should call him king of the tiger-hunters," the friend replied. "only a prince of india would carry such a pensioner with him," another remarked. "what a man!" said a woman, half afraid. "an infidel, no doubt," was the answer. "it is not a christian wish, i know," the first added; "still i should like to see him face a lion in the cynegion." "ay, him they call tamerlane, because he is shorn of two toes." the prince, casting a glance of scarce concealed contempt over the throng, sighed, as he muttered, "if now i could meet the emperor!" the exclamation was from his heart. we have seen the idea which lured him to mecca, and brought him to constantinople. in the years since flown, it was held subordinate to his love of lael--subordinate merely. latterly it had revived with much of its original force, and he was now for the first time seriously scheming for an interview with the emperor. no doubt a formal request would have secured the honor; but it was in his view better policy to be sought than seek, and with all his wealth, there was nothing he could so well afford to pay for success as time. in his study, he was continually saying to himself: "it cannot be that the extravagances to which i am going will fail. he will hear of me, or we may meet--then the invitation!--and then i will propose the brotherhood--god help me! but it is for him to invite me. patience, o my soul!" extravagances! the exclamation helps us to an understanding of the style he was carrying before the public--the silvering on his own black velvet robe, the jewels in lael's coronet bursting with light, the gorgeous finish of the sedans, the barbaric costuming of nilo. they were not significant of his taste. except for what they might bring him, he did not care for jewels. and as for lael, he would have loved her for her name's sake, and her honest, untarnished jewish blood. let us believe so at least until we find otherwise. nilo, by this time familiar with every quarter of the city, was told the boat was in readiness for the party at a landing near the grand gate of blacherne; to make which, it being on the golden horn well up in the northwest, he must turn the hill back of the prince's residence, and pursue one of the streets running parallel with the wall. thither he accordingly bent his steps, followed by the porters of the sedans, and an increasing but respectful assemblage of curious citizens. scarcely had the progress begun before the prince, watching through his front window, saw a man approach the side of lael's chair, and peer into it. his wit served him well and instantly. "'tis he--the insolent!--close up!" he cried, to his porters. the intruder at the sound of his voice looked at him once, then disappeared in the throng. he was young, handsome, showily dressed, and beyond question the person of whom lael had complained. though smarting under the insult, and a suspicion, suddenly engendered, of a watch kept over his house, the prince concluded the stranger was of noble connection, and that the warrant for his boldness was referable to family influence. while his subtle mind was pothering with schemes of detection, the affair presented itself in another light, and he laughed at his own dulness. "'tis nothing," he reflected--"nothing! the boy is in love, and allowing his passion to make a fool of him. i have only to see my pretty gul-bahar does not return the madness." deciding then to make inquiry and satisfy himself who the young admirer was, he dismissed the subject. presently nilo turned into a street of some width compared with the generality of thoroughfares in the city. on the left hand were shops and pretentious houses; on the right, towered the harbor wall. the people attending the procession increased instead of dispersing; but as they continued in good nature, they gave him no concern. their comments amongst themselves were about equally divided between nilo and lael. "beautiful, beautiful!" one said, catching sight of the latter through the windows of the chair. "who is she?" "a daughter of a prince of india." "and the prince--who is he?" "ask some one who knows. there he is in the second chair." once a woman went close to lael, snatched a look, and stepped back, with clasped hands, crying: "'tis the sweet mother herself!" without other incident, the procession passed the gate of st. peter, and was nearing that of blacherne, when a flourish of trumpets announced a counter pageant coming down the street from the opposite direction. a man near by shouted: "the emperor! the emperor!" another seconded him. "long live the good constantine!" the words were hardly uttered before they were answered: "the _azymite_! the _azymite_! down with the betrayer of christ!" in less than a minute the prince was being borne along in the midst of two howling factions. scarcely knowing whether to take lael into a house or go on, he tried to communicate with nilo; but in unconsciousness of the tempest so suddenly risen, that grandson of a king marched on in unremitted stateliness, until directly a band of trumpeters in magnificent livery confronted him. the astonishment was mutual. nilo halted, dropping his headless lance in defence; the trumpeters quit blowing, and, opening order, filed hastily by him, their faces saying with a distinctness words could not have helped: "a son of satan! beware!" the chairs were also brought to a halt. thereupon the people, now a mob apparently ready to tear each other into bloody ribbons, refused to give way to the trumpeters. nilo finally comprehending the situation returned to lael just as the prince on foot came up to her. she was pale and trembling with fear. the deadlock between the musicians and the mob was brought to an end by the appearance of a detachment of the imperial guard. a mounted officer, javelin in hand, rode up and shouted: "the emperor! make way for the emperor!" while he was speaking, the horsemen behind him came on steadily. there was irresistible persuasion in the glitter of their spears; besides it was matter of universal knowledge that the steel panoply of each rider concealed a mercenary foreigner who was never so happy as when riding over a greek. one yell louder and more defiant than any yet uttered--"the azymite, the azymite!"--and the mob broke and fled. at a signal from the officer, the guards, as they came on, opened right and left of the chairs, and passed them with scarce notice. a few words from the prince to lael dispelled her fears. "it is an every-day affair," he said, lightly; "an amusement of the people, the roman factionists against the greek. nobody is ever hurt, except in howling he opens his jaws too wide." the levity was affected, but mastering the irritation he really felt, the prince was about to make acknowledgment to the officer for his timely intervention, when another personage appeared, claiming his attention. indeed his heart began beating unusually fast, and in spite of himself his face flushed--he knew he had his wish--the meeting with constantine was come! the last emperor of the byzantines sat in an open chair borne upon the shoulders of eight carriers in striking livery--a handsome man in his forty-sixth year, though apparently not more than thirty-eight or forty. his costume was that of basileus, which was a religious dignity. a close-fitting cap of red velvet covered his head, with a knot of purple silk triply divided on the top; while a pliable circlet of golden scales, clearing the brows, held the cap securely in place. on each scale a ruby of great size sparkled in solitaire setting. the circlet was further provided with four strings of pearls, two by each ear, dangling well down below in front of the shoulders. a loose drab robe or gown, drawn close at the waist, clothed him, neck, arms, body and nether limbs, answering excellently as ground for a cope the color of the cap, divided before and behind into embroidered squares defined by rows of pearls. boots of purple leather, also embroidered, gave finish to the costume. instead of sword or truncheon, he carried a plain ivory crucifix. the people staring at him from the doors and windows knew he was going to sancta sophia intent on some religious service. while the emperor was thus borne down upon the prince, his dark eyes, kindly looking, glanced from nilo to lael, and finally came to rest full upon the face of the master. the officer returned to him. a few paces off, the imperial chair stopped, and a conversation ensued, during which a number of high officials who were of the sovereign's suite on foot closed up in position to separate their lord from a mounted rear guard. the prince of india kept his mind perfectly. having exchanged glances with the emperor, he was satisfied an impression was made strong enough to pique curiosity, and at the same time fix him in the royal memory. with a quick sense of the proprieties, he thereupon addressed himself to moving his carriages to the left, that when the conference with the officers was concluded the emperor might have the right of way with the least possible obstruction. presently the acolyte--such the officer proved to be--approached the prince. "his imperial majesty," he said, courteously, "would be pleased could i inform him the name and title of the stranger whose progress he has been so unfortunate as to interrupt." the prince answered with dignity: "i thank you, noble sir, for the fair terms in which you couch the inquiry, not less than the rescue i and my daughter owe you from the mob." the acolyte bowed. "and not to keep his imperial majesty waiting," the prince continued, "return him the compliments of a prince of india, at present a resident of this royal and ancient capital. say also it will give me happiness far beyond the power of words when i am permitted to salute him, and render the veneration and court to which his character and place amongst the rulers of the earth entitle him." at the conclusion of the complex, though courtierly reply, the speaker walked two steps forward, faced the emperor, and touched the ground with his palms, and rising, carried them to his forehead. the answer duly delivered, the emperor responded to the salaam with a bow and another message. "his imperial majesty," the acolyte said, "is pleased at meeting the prince of india. he was not aware he had a guest of such distinction in his capital. he desires to know the place of residence of his noble friend, that he may communicate with him, and make amends for the hindrance which has overtaken him to-day." the prince gave his address, and the interview ended. it is of course the reader's privilege to pass judgment upon the incidents of this rencounter; at least one of the parties to it was greatly pleased, for he knew the coveted invitation would speedily follow. while the emperor was borne past, lael received his notice more especially than her guardian; when they were out of hearing, he called the acolyte to his side. "didst thou observe the young person yonder?" he asked. "the coronet she wears certifies the prince of india to be vastly rich," the other answered. "yes, the princes of india, if we may judge by common report, are all rich; wherefore i thought not of that, but rather of the beauty of his daughter. she reminded me of the madonna on the panagia in the transept of our church at blacherne." chapter viii racing with a storm one who has seen the boats in which fishermen now work the eddies and still waters of the bosphorus will not require a description of the vessel the prince and lael stepped into when they arrived at the grand gate of blacherne. he need only be told that instead of being pitch-black outside and in, it was white, except the gunwale which was freshly gilt. the untravelled reader, however, must imagine a long narrow craft, upturned at both ends, graceful in every line, and constructed for speed and beauty. well aft there was a box without cover, luxuriously cushioned, lined with chocolate velvet, and wide enough to seat two persons comfortably; behind it, a decked space for a servant, pilot or guard. this arrangement left all forward for the rowers, each handling two oars. ten rowers, trained, stout, and clad in white headkerchiefs, shirts and trousers of the same hue, and greek jackets of brilliant scarlet, profusely figured over with yellow braid, sat stolidly, blades in hand and ready dipped, when the passengers took their places, the prince and lael in the box, and nilo behind them as guard. the vessel was too light to permit a ceremonious reception. in front of the party, on the northern shore of the famous harbor, were the heights of pera. the ravines and grass-green benches into which they were broken, with here and there a garden hut enclosed in a patch of filbert bushes--for pera was not then the city it now is--were of no interest to the prince; dropping his eyes to the water, they took in a medley of shipping, then involuntarily turned to the cold gray face of the wall he was leaving. and while seeing in vivid recollection the benignant countenance of constantine bent upon him from the chair in the street, he thought of the horoscope he had spent the night in taking and the forenoon in calculating. with a darkened brow, he gave the word, and the boat was pushed off and presently seeking the broader channel of the bosphorus. the day was delightful. a breeze danced merrily over the surface of the water. soft white summer clouds hung so sleepily in the southwest they scarce suggested motion. seeing the color deepen in lael's cheeks, and listening to her questions, he surrendered himself to the pleasures of the situation, not the least being the admiration she attracted. by ships at anchor, and through lesser craft of every variety they sped, followed by exclamations frequently outspoken: "who is she? who can she be?" thus pursued, they flew past the gate of st. peter, turned the point of galata, and left the fish market port behind; proceeding then in parallelism with the north shore, they glided under the great round tower so tall and up so far overhead it seemed a part of the sky. off tophane, they were in the bosphorus, with scutari at their right, and point serail at their backs. viewed from the harbor on the sea, the old historic point leaves upon the well informed an impression that in a day long gone, yielding to a spasm of justice, asia cast it off into the waves. its beauty is circean. almost from the beginning it has been the chosen place in which men ran rounds gay and grave, virtuous and wanton, foolish and philosophic, brave and cowardly--where love, hate, jealousy, avarice, ambition and envy have delighted to burn their lights before heaven--where, possibly with one exception, providence has more frequently come nearer lifting its veil than in any other spot of earth. again and again, the prince, loth to quit the view, turned and refilled his eyes with sancta sophia, of which, from his position, the wall at the water's edge, the lesser churches of the virgin hodegetria and st. irene, and the topmost sections far extending of the palaces of bucoleon seemed but foundations. the edifice, as he saw it then, depended on itself for effect, the turk having not yet, in sign of mohammedan conversion, broken the line of its marvellous dome with minarets. at length he set about telling stories of the point. off the site of the present palace of dolma-batchi he told of euphrosyne, the daughter of the empress irene; and seeing how the sorrowful fortune of the beautiful child engaged lael's sympathies, he became interested as a narrator, and failed to notice the unusual warmth tempering the air about tchiragan. neither did he observe that the northern sky, before so clear and blue, was whitening with haze. to avoid the current running past arnoot-kouy, the rowers crossed to the asiatic side under the promontory of candilli. other boats thronged the charming expanse; but as most of them were of a humbler class sporting one rower, the prince's, with its liveried ten, was a surpassing attraction. sometimes the strangers, to gratify their curiosity, drew quite near, but always without affronting him; knowing the homage was to lael, he was happy when it was effusively rendered. his progress was most satisfactory until he rounded candilli. then a flock of small boats came down upon him pell-mell, the rowers pulling their uttermost, the passengers in panic. the urgency impelling them was equally recognized by the ships and larger vessels out in the channel. anchors were going down, sails furling, and oars drawing in. above them, moreover, much beyond their usual levels of flight troops of gulls were circling on rapid wings screaming excitedly. the prince had reached the part of greatest interest in the story he was telling--how the cruel and remorseless emperor michel, determined to wed the innocent and helpless euphrosyne, shamelessly cheated the church and cajoled the senate--when nilo touched his shoulder, and awoke him to the situation. a glance over the water--another at the sky--and he comprehended danger of some kind was impending. at the same moment lael commenced shivering and complaining of cold. the air had undergone a sudden change. presently nilo's red cloak was sheltering her. the boat was in position to bring everything into view, and he spoke to the rowers: "a storm is rising." they ceased work, and looked over their shoulders, each for himself. "a blow from the sea, and it comes fast. what we shall do is for my lord to say," one of them returned. the prince grew anxious for lael. what was done must be for her--he had no thought else. a cloud was forming over the whole northeastern quarter of the sky, along the horizon black, overhead a vast gray wave, in its heart copper-hued, seething, interworking, now a distended sail, now a sail bursted; and the wind could be heard whipping the shreds into fleece, and whirling them a confusion of vaporous banners. yet glassy, the water reflected the tint of the cloud. the hush holding it was like the drawn breath of a victim waiting the first turn of the torturous wheel. the asiatic shore offered the prince a long stretch, and he persisted in coasting it until the donjon of the white castle--that terror to christians--arrested his eye. there were houses much nearer, some of them actually overhanging the water; but the donjon seemed specially inviting; at all events, he coolly reflected, if the governor of the castle denied him refuge, the little river near by known as the sweet waters of asia would receive him, and getting under its bank, he might hope to escape the fury of the wind and waves. he shouted resolutely: "to the white castle! make it before the wind strikes, my men, and i will double your hire." "we may make it," the rower answered, somewhat sullenly, "but"-- "what?" asked the prince. "the devil has his lodgings there. many men have gone into its accursed gates on errands of peace, and never been heard of again." the prince laughed. "we lose time--forward! if there be a fiend in the castle, i promise you he is not waiting for us." the twenty oars fell as one, and the boat jumped like a steed under a stab of the spur. thus boldly the race with the storm was begun. the judgment of the challenger, assuming the prince to be such, may be questioned. the river was the goal. could he reach it before the wind descended in dangerous force?--that was the very point of contest. the chances, it is to be remembered next, were not of a kind to admit weighing with any approach to certainty; it was difficult even to marshal them for consideration. the distance was somewhat less than three-quarters of a mile; on the other part, the competing cloud was wrestling with the mountain height of alem daghy, about four miles away. the dead calm was an advantage; unfortunately it was more than offset by the velocity of the current which, though not so strong by the littoral of candilli as under the opposite bluffs of roumeli-hissar, was still a serious opposing force. the boatmen were skilful, and could be relied upon to pull loyally; for, passing the reward offered in the event of their winning, the dangers of failure were to them alike. treating the contest as a race, with the storm and the boat as competitors, the prince was not without chances of success. but whatever the outcome of the venture, lael would be put to discomfort. his care of her was so habitually marked by tender solicitude one cannot avoid wondering at him now. after all he may have judged the affair more closely than at first appears. the sides of the boat were low, but danger from that cause might be obviated by the skill of the rowers; and then alem daghy was not a trifling obstacle in the path of the gale. it might be trusted to hold the cloud awhile; after which a time would be required by the wind to travel the miles intervening. certainly it had been more prudent to make the shore, and seek refuge in one of the houses there. but the retort of the spirited jew of that day, as in this, was a contemptuous refusal of assistance, and the degree to which this son of israel was governed by the eternal resentment can be best appreciated by recalling the number of his days on earth. at the first response to the vigorous pull of the oarsmen, lael drew the red cloak over her face, and laid her head against the prince. he put his arm around her, and seeing nothing and saying nothing, she trusted in him. the rowers, pulling with strength from the start, gradually quickened the stroke, and were presently in perfect harmony of action. a short sough accompanied each dip of the blades; an expiration, like that of the woodman striking a blow with his axe, announced the movement completed. the cords of their brawny necks played fast and free; the perspiration ran down their faces like rain upon glass. their teeth clinched. they turned neither right nor left; but with their straining eyes fixed upon him, by his looks they judged both their own well-doing and the progress of their competitor. seeing the boat pointed directly toward the castle, the prince watched the cloud. occasionally he commended the rowers. "well done, my men!--hold to that, and we will win!" the unusual brightness of his eyes alone betrayed excitement. once he looked over the yet quiet upper field of water. his was the only vessel in motion. even the great ships were lying to. no--there was another small boat like his own coming down along the asiatic shore as if to meet him. its position appeared about as far above the mouth of the river as his was below it; and its three or five rowers were plainly doing their best. with grim pleasure, he accepted the stranger as another competitor in the race. the friendly heights of alem, seen from the bosphorus, are one great forest always beautifully green. even as the prince looked at them, they lost color, as if a hand out of the cloud had suddenly dropped a curtain of white gauze over them. he glanced back over the course, then forward. the donjon was showing the loopholes that pitted its southern face. excellent as the speed had been, more was required. half the distance remained to be overcome--and the enemy not four miles away. "faster, men!" he called out. "the gust has broken from the mountain. i hear its roaring." they turned involuntarily, and with a look measured the space yet to be covered, the distance of the foe, and the rate at which he was coming. nor less did they measure the danger. they too heard its warning, the muffled roar as of rocks and trees snatched up and grinding to atoms in the inner coils of the cloud. "it is not a blow," one said, speaking quick, "but a"-- "storm." the word was the prince's. "yes, my lord." just then the water by the boat was rippled by a breath, purring, timorous, but icy. the effect on the oarsmen was stronger than any word from the master could have been. they finished a pull long and united; then while the oars swung forward taking reach for another, they all arose to their feet, paused a moment, dipped the blades deeper, gave vent to a cry so continuous it sounded like a wail, and at the same time sunk back into their seats, pulling as they fell. this was their ultimate exertion. a jet of water spurted from the foot of the sharp bow, and the bubbles and oar eddies flew behind indistinguishably. "well done!" said the prince, his eyes glowing. thenceforward the men continued to rise at the end of a stroke, and fall as they commenced delivery of another. their action was quick, steady, machine-like; they gripped the water deep, and made no slips; with a thought of the exhilaration an eagle must feel when swooping from his eyrie, the prince looked at the cloud defiantly as a challenger might. each moment the donjon loomed up more plainly. he saw now, not merely the windows and loopholes, but the joinery of the stones in their courses. suddenly he beheld another wonder--an army of men mounted and galloping along the river bank toward the castle. the array stretched back into the woods. in its van were two flags borne side by side, one green, the other red. both were surrounded by a troop in bright armor. no need for him to ask to whom they belonged. they told him of mecca and mahomet--on the red, he doubted not seeing the old ottomanic symbols, in their meaning poetic, in their simplicity beautiful as any ever appropriated for martial purposes. the riders were turks. but why the green flag? where it went somebody more than the chief of a sanjak, more than the governor of a castle, or even a province, led the way. the number trailing after the flags was scarcely less mysterious. they were too many to be of the garrison; and then the battlements of the castle were lined with men also under arms. not daring to speak of this new apparition lest his oarsmen might take alarm, the prince smiled, thinking of another party to the race--a fourth competitor. he sought the opposing boat next. it had made good time. there were five oarsmen in it; and, like his own, they were rising and falling with each stroke. in the passengers' place, he could make out two persons whom he took to be women. a roll of thunder from the cloud startled the crew. clear, angry, majestic, it filled the mighty gorge of the bosphorus. under the sound the water seemed to shrink away. lael looked out from her hiding, but as quickly drew back, crowding closer to the prince. to calm her he said, lightly, "fear nothing, o my gul bahar! a pretty race we are having with the cloud yonder; we are winning, and it is not pleased. there is no danger." she answered by doubling the folds of the gown about her head. steadily, lithely, and with never an error the rowers drove through the waves--steadily, and in exact time, their cry arose cadencing each stroke. they did their part truly. well might the master cry them, "good, good." but all the while the wind was tugging mightily at its cloudy car; every instant the rattle of its wheels sounded nearer. the trees on the hills behind the castle were bending and bowing; and not merely around the boat, but far as could be seen the surface of the ancient channel was a-shirr and a-shatter under beating of advance gusts. and now the mouth of the sweet waters, shallowed by a wide extended osier bank, came into view; and the castle was visible from base to upper merlon, the donjon, in relief against the blackened sky, rising more ghostly than ever. and right at hand were the flags, and the riders galloping with them. and there, coming bravely in, was the competing boat. over toward roumeli-hissar the sea birds congregated in noisy flocks, alarmed at the long line of foam the wind was whisking down the current. behind the foam, the world seemed dissolving into spray. then the boats were seen from the castle, and a company of soldiers ran out and down the bank. a noise like the rushing of a river sounded directly overhead. the wind struck the castle, and in the thick of the mists and flying leaves hurled at it, the donjon disappeared. "we win, we win, my men!" the prince shouted. "courage--good spirit--brave work--treble wages! wine and wassail to-morrow!" the boat, with the last word, shot into the little river, and up to the landing of the castle just as the baffled wind burst over the refuge. and simultaneously the van of the army galloped under the walls and the competing boat arrived. chapter ix in the white castle the landing was in possession of dark-faced, heavily bearded men, with white turbans, baggy trousers, gray and gathered at the ankles, and arms of every kind, bows, javelins, and cimeters. the prince, stepping from his boat, recognized them as turkish soldiers. he had hardly time to make the inspection, brief as it was, before an officer, distinguished by a turban, kettle-shaped and elaborately infolded, approached him. "you will go with me to the castle," he said. the official's tone and manner were imperative. suppressing his displeasure, the prince replied, with dignity: "the governor is courteous. return to him with my thanks, and say that when i decided to come on in the face of the storm, i made no doubt of his giving me shelter until it would be safe to resume my journey. i fear, however, his accommodations will be overtaxed; and since the river is protected from the wind, it would be more agreeable if he would permit me to remain here." the response betrayed no improvement in manner: "my order is to bring you to the castle." some of the boatmen at this raised their eyes and hands toward heaven; others crossed themselves, and, like men taking leave of hope, cried out, "o holy mother of god!" yet the prince restrained himself. he saw contention would be useless, and said, to quiet the rowers: "i will go with you. the governor will be reasonable. we are unfortunates blown to his hands by a tempest, and to make us prisoners under such circumstances would be an abuse of one of the first and most sacred laws of the prophet. the order did not comprehend my men; they may remain here." lael heard all this, her face white with fear. the conversation was in the greek tongue. at mention of the law, the turk cast a contemptuous look at the prince, much as to say, dog of an unbeliever, what dost thou with a saying of the prophet? then dropping his eyes to lael and the boatmen, he answered in disdain of argument or explanation: "you--they--all must go." with that, he turned to the occupants of the other boat, and raising his voice the better to be heard, for the howling of the wind was very great, he called to them: "come out." they were a woman in rich attire, but closely veiled, and a companion at whom he gazed with astonishment. the costume of the latter perplexed him; indeed, not until that person, in obedience to the order, erected himself to his full stature upon the landing, was he assured of his sex. they were the princess irene and sergius the monk. the conversation between them in the homeric palace has only to be recalled to account for their presence. departing from therapia at noon, according to the custom of boatmen wishing to pass from the upper bosphorus, they had been carried obliquely across toward the asiatic shore where the current, because of its greater regularity, is supposed to facilitate descent. when the storm began to fill the space above alem daghy, they were in the usual course; and then the question that had been put to the prince of india was presented to the princess irene. would she land in asia or recross to europe? the general greek distrust of the turks belonged to her. from infancy she had been horrified with stories of women prisoners in their hands. she preferred making roumeli-hissar; but the boatmen protested it was too late; they said the little river by the white castle was open, and they could reach it before the storm; and trusting in their better judgment, she submitted to them. sergius, on the landing, pushed the cowl back, and was about to speak, but the wind caught his hair, tossing the long locks into tangle. seeing him thus in a manner blinded, the princess took up the speech. drawing the veil aside, she addressed the officer: "art thou the governor of the castle?" "no." "are we to be held guests or prisoners?" "that is not for me to say." "carry thou then a message to him who may be the governor. tell him i am the princess irene, by birth near akin to constantine, emperor of the greeks and romans; that, admitting this soil is lawfully the property of his master the sultan, i have not invaded it, but am here in search of temporary refuge. tell him if i go to his castle a prisoner, he must answer for the trespass to my royal kinsman, who will not fail to demand reparation; on the other hand, if i become his guest, it must be upon condition that i shall be free to depart as i came, with my friend and my people, the instant the wind and waves subside. yes, and the further condition, that he wait upon me as becomes my station, and personally offer such hospitality as his castle affords. i shall receive his reply here." the officer, uncouth though he was, listened with astonishment not in the least disguised; and it was not merely the speech which impressed him, nor yet the spirit with which it was given; the spell was in the unveiled face. never in his best dream of the perfected moslem paradise had he seen loveliness to compare with it. he stood staring at her. "go," she repeated. "there will be rain presently." "who am i to say thou art?" he asked. "the princess irene, kinswoman of the emperor constantine." the officer made a low salaam to her, and walked hurriedly off to the castle. his soldiers stood in respectful remove from the prisoners--such the refugees must for the present be considered--leaving them grouped in close vicinity, the prince and the monk ashore, the princess and lael seated in their boats. calamity is a rough master of ceremonies; it does not take its victims by the hand, and name them in words, but bids them look to each other for help. and that was precisely what the two parties now did. unsophisticated, and backward through inexperience, sergius was nevertheless conscious of the embarrassing plight of the princess. he had also a man's quick sense of the uselessness of resistance, except in the way of protest. to measure the stranger's probable influence with the turks, he looked first at the prince, and was not, it must be said, rewarded with a return on which to found hope or encouragement. the small, stoop-shouldered old man, with a great white beard, appeared respectable and well-to-do in his black velvet cap and pelisse; his eyes were very bright, and his cheeks hectic with resentment at the annoyance he was undergoing; but that he could help out of the difficulty appeared absurd. having by this time rescued his hair from the wind, and secured it under his cowl, he looked next at lael. his first thought was of the unfitness of her costume for an outing in a boat under the quietest of skies. a glance at the princess, however, allayed the criticism; while the display of jewelry was less conspicuous, her habit was quite as rich and unsubstantial. it dawned upon him then that custom had something to do with the attire of greek women thus upon the water. that moment lael glanced up at him, and he saw how childlike her face was, and lovely despite the anxiety and fear with which it was overcast. he became interested in her at once. the monk's judgment of the little old man was unjust. that master of subtlety had in mind run forward of the situation, and was already providing for its consequences. he shared the surprise of the turk when the princess raised her veil. overhearing then her message to the governor, delivered in a manner calm, self-possessed, courageous, dignified, and withal adroit, he resolved to place lael under her protection. "princess," he said, doffing his cap unmindful of the wind, and advancing to the side of her boat, "i crave audience of you, and in excuse for my unceremoniousness, plead community in misfortune, and a desire to make my daughter here safe as can be." she surveyed him from head to foot; then turned her eyes toward lael, sight of whom speedily exorcised the suspicion which for the instant held her hesitant. "i acknowledge the obligation imposed by the situation." she replied; "and being a christian as well as a woman, i cannot without reason justifiable in sight of heaven deny the help you ask. but, good sir, first tell me your name and country." "i am a prince of india exercising a traveller's privilege of sojourning in the imperial city." "the answer is well given; and if hereafter you return to this interview, o prince, i beg you will not lay my inquiry to common curiosity." "fear not," the prince answered; "for i learned long ago that in the laws prescribed for right doing prudence is a primary virtue; and making present application of the principle, i suggest, if it please you to continue a discourse which must be necessarily brief, that we do so in some other tongue than greek." "be it in latin then," she said, with a quick glance at the soldiers, and observing his bow of acquiescence, continued, "thy reverend beard, o prince, and respectable appearance, are warranties of a wisdom greater than i can ever attain; wherefore pray tell me how i, a feeble woman, who may not be able to release herself from these robbers, remorseless from religious prejudice, can be of assistance to thy daughter, now my younger sister in affliction." she accompanied the speech with a look at lael so kind and tender it could not be misinterpreted. "most fair and gentle princess, i will straight to the matter. out on the water, midway this and the point yonder, when too late for me to change direction or stay my rowers, i saw a body of horsemen, whom i judged to be soldiers, moving hurriedly down the river bank toward the castle. a band richly caparisoned, carrying two flags, one green, the other red, moved at their head. the former, you may know, has a religious signification, and is seldom seen in the field except a person of high rank be present. it is my opinion, therefore, that our arrest has some reference to the arrival of such a personage. in confirmation you may yet hear the musical flourish in his honor." "i hear drums and trumpets," she replied, "and admit the surmise an ingenious accounting for an act otherwise unaccountable." "nay, princess, with respect to thyself at least, call it a deed intolerable, and loud with provocation." "from your speech, o prince, i infer familiarity with these faithless barbarians. perhaps you can make your knowledge of them so far serviceable as to tell me the great man's name." "yes, i have had somewhat to do with turks; yet i cannot venture the name, rank or purpose of the newcomer. pursuing the argument, however, if my conjecture be true, then the message borne the governor, though spirited, and most happily accordant with your high degree, will not accomplish your release, simply because the reason of the capture in the first place must remain a reason for detaining you in the next. in brief, you may anticipate rejection of the protest." "what, think you they will hold me prisoner?" "they are crafty." "they dare not!" and the princess' cheek reddened with indignation. "my kinsman is not powerless--and even the great amurath"-- "forgive me, i pray; but there was never mantle to cover so many crimes as the conveniences kings call 'reasons of state.'" she looked vaguely up the river which the tempest was covering with promiscuous air-blown drifting; but recovering, she said: "it is for me to pray pardon, prince. i detain you." "not at all," he answered. "i have to remark next, if my conjecture prove correct, a lady of imperial rank might find herself ill at ease and solitary in a hold like this castle, which, speaking by report, is now kept to serve some design of war to come more particularly than domestic or social life." the imagination of the princess caught the idea eagerly, and, becoming active, presented a picture of a moslem lair without women or apartments for women. her mind filled with alarm. "oh, that i could recall the message!" she exclaimed. "i should not have tempted the governor by offering to become his guest upon any condition." "nay, do not accuse yourself. the decision was brave and excellent in every view," he said, perceiving his purpose in such fair way. "for see--the storm increases in strength; yonder"--he pointed toward alem daghy--"the rain comes. not by thy choice, o princess, but the will of god, thou art here!" he spoke impressively, and she bent her head, and crossed herself twice. "a sad plight truly," he continued. "fortunately it may be in a measure relieved. here is my daughter, lael by name. the years have scarcely outrun her childhood. more at mercy than thyself, because without rank to make the oppressor careful, or an imperial kinsman to revenge a wrong done her, she is subject to whatever threatens you--a cell in this infidel stronghold, ruffians for attendants, discomforts to cast her into fever, separation from me to keep her afraid. why not suffer her to go with you? she can serve as tirewoman or companion. in villany the boldest often hesitate when two are to be overcome." the speech was effective. "o prince, i have not words to express my gratitude. i am thy debtor. heaven may have brought this crisis, but it has not altogether deserted me--and in good time! see--my messenger, with a following! let thy daughter come, and sit with me now--and do thou stand by to lend me of thy wisdom in case appeal to it become necessary. quick! nay, prince, sergius is young and strong. permit him to bring the child to me." the monk made haste. drawing the boat close to the shore, he gave lael his strong hand. directly she was delivered to the princess, and seated beside her. "now they may come!" thus the princess acknowledged the strength derivable from companionship. the result was perceptible in her voice once more clear, and her face actually sparkling with confidence and courage. then, drawn together in one group, the refugees awaited the officer. "the governor is coming," that worthy said, saluting the princess. looking toward the castle, the expectants beheld a score or more men issuing from the gate on foot. they were all in armor, and each complemented the buckler on his arm with a lance from which a colored pennon blew out straight and stiff as a panel. one walked in front singly, and immediately the prince and princess fixed upon him as the governor, and kept him in eye curiously and anxiously. that instant rain in large drops began to fall. the governor appeared to notice the premonition, for looking at the angry sky he halted, and beckoned to his followers, several of whom ran to him, received an order, and then hastily returned to the castle. he came on in quickened gait. here the prince, with his greater experience, noticed a point which escaped his associates; and that was the extraordinary homage paid the stranger. at the landing the officer and soldiers would have prostrated themselves, but with an imperious gesture, he declined the salutation. the observers, it may be well believed, viewed the man afar with interest; when near, they scanned him as persons under arraignment study the judge, that from his appearance they may glean something of his disposition. he was above the average height of men, slender, and in armor--the armor of the east, adapted in every point to climate and light service. a cope or hood, intricately woven of delicate steel wire, and close enough to refuse an arrow or the point of a dagger, defended head, throat, neck, and shoulders, while open at the face; a coat, of the same artistic mail, beginning under the hood, followed closely the contour of the body, terminating just above the knees as a skirt. amongst teutonic and english knights, on account of its comparative lightness, it would have been distinguished from an old-fashioned hauberk, and called _haubergeon_. a sleeveless _surcoat_ of velvet, plain green in color, overlaid the mail without a crease or wrinkle, except at the edge of the skirt. _chausses_, or leggins, also of steel, clothed the nether limbs, ending in shoes of thin lateral scales sharply pointed at the toes. a slight convexity on top, and the bright gold-gilt band by which, with regular interlacement, the cope was attached, gave the cap surmounting the head a likeness to a crown. in style this armor was common. the preference eastern cavaliers showed it may have been due in part at least to the fact that when turned out by a master armorer, after years of painstaking, it left the wearer his natural graces of person. such certainly was the case here. the further equipment of the man admits easy imagining. there were the gauntlets of steel, articulated for the fingers and thumbs; a broad flexible belt of burnished gold scales, intended for the cimeter, fell from the waist diagonally to the left hip; light spurs graced the heels; a dagger, sparkling with jewels, was his sole weapon, and it served principally to denote the peacefulness of his errand. as there was nothing about him to rattle or clank his steps were noiseless, and his movements agile and easy. these martial points were naturally of chief attraction to the prince of india, whose vast acquaintanceship with heroes and famous warriors made comparison a habit. on her side, the princess, to whom accoutrement and manner were mere accessories, pleasing or otherwise, and subordinate, sought the stranger's face. she saw brown eyes, not very large, but exceedingly bright, quick, sharp, flying from object to object with flashes of bold inquiry, and quitting them as instantly; a round forehead on brows high-arched; a nose with the curvature of a roman's; mouth deep-cornered, full-lipped, and somewhat imperfectly mustached and bearded; clear, though sunburned complexion--in brief, a countenance haughty, handsome, refined, imperious, telling in every line of exceptional birth, royal usages, ambition, courage, passion, and confidence. most amazing, however, the stranger appeared yet a youth. surprised, hardly knowing whether to be pleased or alarmed, yet attracted, she kept the face in steady gaze. halting when a few steps from the group, the stranger looked at them as if seeking one in especial. "have a care, o princess! this is not the governor, but he of whom i spoke--the great man." the warning was from the prince of india and in latin. as if to thank him for a service done--possibly for identifying the person he sought--the subject of the warning slightly bowed to him, then dropped his eyes to the princess. a light blown out does not vanish more instantly than his expression changed. wonder--incredulity--astonishment--admiration chased each other over his face in succession. calling them emotions, each declared itself with absolute distinctness, and the one last to come was most decided and enduring. thus he met her gaze, and so ardent, intense and continuous was his, that she reddened cheek and forehead, and drew down the veil; but not, it should be understood, resentfully. the disappearance of the countenance, in effect like the sudden extinguishment of a splendor, aroused him. advancing a step, he said to her, with lowered head and perceptible embarrassment: "i come to offer hospitality to the kinswoman of the emperor constantine. the storm shows no sign of abatement, and until it does, my castle yonder is at her order. while not sumptuous in appointment as her own palace, fortunately there are comfortable apartments in it where she can rest securely and with reserve. the invitation i presume to make in the name of my most exalted master sultan amurath, who takes delight in the amity existing between him and the lord of byzantium. to lay all fear, to dispel hesitation, in his name again, together with such earnest of good faith as lies in an appeal to the most holy prophet of god, i swear the princess irene shall be safe from interruption while in the castle, and free to depart from it at her pleasure. if she chooses, this tender of courtesy may, by agreement, here in the presence of these witnesses, be taken as an affair of state. i await her answer." the prince of india heard the speech more astonished by the unexceptional latin in which it was couched than the propriety of the matter or the grace of its delivery, though, he was constrained to admit, both were very great. he also understood the meaning of the look the stranger had given him at the conclusion of his warning to the princess, and to conceal his vexation, he turned to her. that moment two covered chairs, brought from the castle, were set down near by, and the rain began to fall in earnest. "see," said the governor, "the evidence of my care for the comfort of the kinswoman of the most noble emperor constantine. i feared it would rain before i could present myself to her; nor that alone, fair princess--the chair must convict me of a wholesome dread of accusation in constantinople; for what worse could be said than that i, a faithful moslem, to whom hospitality is an ordination of religion, refused to open my gates to women in distress because they were christians. most noble and fair lady, behold how much i should esteem acceptance of my invitation!" irene looked at the prince of india, and seeing assent in his face, answered: "i will ask leave to report this courtesy as an affair of state that my royal kinsman may acknowledge it becomingly." the governor bowed very low while saying: "i myself should have suggested the course." "also that my friends"--she pointed to the prince of india, and the monk--"and all the boatmen, be included in the safeguard." this was also agreed to; whereupon she arose, and for assistance offered her hand to sergius. lael was next helped from the boat. then, taking to the chairs, the two were carried into the castle, followed by the prince and the monk afoot. chapter x the arabian story-teller the reader will doubtless refer the circumstance to the jealousy which is supposed to prompt the faithful where women are required to pass before men; yet the best evidence of the governor's thoughtfulness for his female guests met them at their approach to the castle. there was not a man visible except a sentinel on the battlement above the gate, and he stood faced inwardly, making it impossible for him to see them when they drew near. "where are the horsemen of whom you spoke? and the garrison, where are they?" sergius asked the prince. the latter shrugged his shoulders, as he answered: "they will return presently." further proof of the same thoughtfulness was presented when the two chairs were set down in the broad stone-paved passage receiving from the front door. the sole occupant there was a man, tall as the monk, but unnaturally slender; indeed, his legs resembled those of a lay figure, so thin were they, while the residue of his person, although clad in a burnoose gorgeously embroidered, would have reminded a modern of the skeletons surgeons keep for office furniture. besides blackness deep as the unlighted corner of a cellar, he had no beard. the prince of india recognized him as one of the indispensables of an eastern harem, and made ready to obey him without dissent--only the extravagance of the broidery on the burnoose confirmed him in the opinion that the chief just arrived outranked the governor. "this is the kislar aga of a prince," he said to himself. the eunuch, like one accustomed to the duty, superintended the placement of the chairs; then, resting the point of a very bright crescent-shaped sword on the floor, he said, in a voice more incisive than the ordinary feminine tenor: "i will now conduct the ladies, and guard them. no one will presume to follow." the prince replied: "it is well; but they will be comforted if permitted to abide together." he spoke with deference, and the black responded: "this is a fort, not a palace. there is but one chamber for the two." "and if i wish to communicate with them or they with me?" "_bismillah!_" the eunuch replied. "they are not prisoners. i will deliver what thou hast for them or they for thee." thereupon the princess and lael stepped from the chairs, and went with their guide. when they were gone, word sped through the castle, and with clamor and clangor, doors opened, and men poured forth in companies. and again the prince reflected: "such discipline pertains to princes only." now the office of eunuch was by no means an exclusive pagan institution; time out of mind it had been a feature of byzantine courts; and constantine dragases, the last, and probably the most christian of greek emperors, not only tolerated, but recognized it as honorable. with this explanation the reader ought not to be surprised if the princess irene accepted the guidance offered her without fear or even hesitation. doubtless she had been in similar keeping many times. climbing a number of stairways, the eunuch brought his fair charges into a part of the castle where there were signs of refinement. the floors were swept; the doors garnished with rugs; a delicate incense lingered in the air; and to rescue the tenants, whoever they might be, from darkness, lighted lamps swung from the ceiling, and were affixed to the walls. stopping finally before a portiere, he held it aside while saying: "enter here, and be at home. upon the table yonder there is a little bell; ring, and i will answer." and seeing lael clinging closely to the princess, he added: "be not afraid. know ye rather that my master, when a child, heard the story of hatim, a warrior and poet of the arabs, and ever since he has lived believing hospitality a virtue without which there can be no godliness. do not forget the bell." they entered and were alone. to their amazement the room was more than comfortably furnished. what may be termed a chandelier swung from the ceiling with many lamps ready for lighting; under it there was a circular divan; then along the four sides a divan extended continuously, with pillows at the corners in heaps. matting covered the floor, and here and there rugs of gay dyes offered noticeable degrees of warmth and coloring. large trays filled the deep recesses of the windows, and though the smell of musk overpowered the sweet outgivings of the roses blooming in them, they sufficed to rouge the daylight somewhat scantily admitted. the roughness and chill of the walls were provided against by woollen drapery answering for arras. they went first to one of the windows, and peered out. below them the world was being deluged with fiercely driven rain. there was the bosphorus lashed into waves already whitened with foam. the european shore was utterly curtained from sight. gust after gust raved around the castle, whistling and moaning; and as she beheld the danger escaped, the princess thought of the saying of the prince of india and repeated it in a spirit of thanksgiving: "by the will of god thou art here." the reflection reconciled her to the situation, and led on till presently the face and martial figure of the governor reproduced themselves to her fancy. how handsome he appeared--how courteous--how young!--scarcely older than herself! how readily she had yielded to his invitation! she blushed at the thought. lael interrupted the revery, which was not without charm, and for that reason would likely return, by bringing her a child's slipper found near the central divan; and while examining the embroidery of many-colored beads adorning it, she divined the truth. isolated as the castle was on a frontier of the islamic world, and crowded with men and material of war, yet the governor was permitted his harem, and this was its room in common. here his wives, many or few, for the time banished to some other quarters, were in the habit of meeting for the enjoyment of the scant pleasantries afforded by life like theirs. again she was interrupted. the arras over one of the walls was pushed aside, and two women came in with refreshments. a third followed with a small table of turkish pattern which she placed on the floor. the viands, very light and simple, were set upon the table; then a fourth one came bringing an armful of shawls and wraps. the last was a greek, and she explained that the lord of the castle, her master, was pleased to make his guests comfortable. in the evening later a more substantial repast would be served. meantime she was appointed to wait on them. the guests, assured by the presence of other women in the castle, partook of the refection; after which the table was removed, and the attendants for the present dismissed. wrapping themselves then in shawls, for they had not altogether escaped the rain, and were beginning to feel the mists stealing into the chamber through the unglazed windows, they took to the divan, piling the cushions about them defensively. in this condition, comfortable, cosey, perfectly at rest, and with the full enjoyment of the sensations common to every one in the midst of a novel adventure, the princess proceeded to draw from lael an account of herself; and the ingenuousness of the girl proved very charming, coupled as it was with a most unexpected intelligence. the case was the not unusual one of education wholly unsupported by experience. the real marvel to the inquisitor was that she should have made discovery of two such instances the same day, and been thrown into curious relation with them. and as women always run parallels between persons who interest them, the princess was struck with the similarities between sergius and lael. they were both young, both handsome, both unusually well informed and at the same time singularly unsophisticated. in the old pagan style, what did fate mean by thus bringing them together? she determined to keep watch of the event. and when, in course of her account, lael spoke of the prince of india, irene awoke at once to a mystery connected with him. lacking the full story, the narrator could give just enough of it to stimulate wonder. who was he? where was cipango? he was rich--learned--knew all the sciences, all the languages--he had visited countries everywhere, even the inhabited islands. to be sure, he had not appeared remarkable; indeed, she gave him small attention when he was before her; she recalled him chiefly by his eyes and velvet pelisse. while she was mentally resolving to make better study of him, the eunuch appeared under the portiere, and, coming forward, said, with a half salaam to the princess: "my master does not wish his guests to think themselves forgotten. the kinswoman of the most august emperor constantine, he remembers, is without employment to lighten the passage of a time which must be irksome to her. he humbly prays her to accept his sympathy, and sends me to say that a famous story-teller, going to the court of the sultan at adrianople, arrived at the castle to-day. would the princess be pleased to hear him?" "in what tongue does he recite?" she asked. "arabic, turkish, greek, latin, hebrew," was the reply. "oh, a most wise man!" irene consulted lael, and thinking to offer her amusement, assented to the suggestion, with thanks to the governor. "have the veils ready," the eunuch said, as he retreated backward to the door. "the story-teller is a man, and he will come directly." the story-teller was ushered in. he walked to the divan where his auditors sat, slowly, as if he knew himself under close observation, and courted it. now caravans were daily shows in constantinople. the little bell of the donkey leading its string of laden camels through the narrow streets might be heard any hour, and the shaykh in charge was almost invariably an arab. so the princess had seen many of the desert-born, and was familiar with their peculiarities; never, however, had chance brought a nobler specimen of the race before her. as he approached, stepping as modern stage heroes are wont, she saw the red slippers, the white shirt falling to the ankles and girdled at the waist, its bosom a capacious pocket, the white and red striped cloak over the shoulders. she marked the material of which they were made, the shirt of selected angora wool, the cloak of camel's hair, in its fineness iridescent and soft as velvet. she saw in the girdle an empty scabbard for a yatagan elaborately covered with brilliants. she saw on the head a kerchief of mixed silk and cotton, tasselled, heavily striated red and yellow, and secured by the usual cord; but she scarcely more than noticed them--the air of the man, high, stately, king-like, was a superior attraction, and she gazed at his face unconscious that her own was uncovered. the features were regular, the complexion sunburned to the hue of reddish copper, the beard thin, the nose sharp, the cheeks hollow, the eyes, through the double shade of brows and kerchief, glittered like balls of polished black amber. his hands were crossed above the girdle after the manner of eastern servants before acknowledged superiors; his salutation was expressive of most abject homage; yet when he raised himself, and met the glance of the princess, his eyes lingered, and brightened, and directly he cast off or forgot his humility, and looked lordlier than an emir boasting of his thousand tents, with ten spears to each, and a score of camels to the spear. she endured the gaze awhile; for it seemed she had seen the face before--where, she could not tell; and when, as presently happened, she began to feel the brightness of the eyes intenser growing, the sensation reminded her of the governor at the landing. could this be he? no, the countenance here was of a man already advanced in life. and why should the governor resort to disguise? the end, nevertheless, was the same as on the landing--she drew down the veil. then he became humble again, and spoke, his eyes downcast, his hands crossed: "this faithful servant"--he pointed to the eunuch "my friend"--the eunuch crossed his hands, and assumed an attitude of pleased attention--"brought me from his master--may the most merciful and compassionate continue a pillow to the good man here and to his soul hereafter!--how a kinswoman of the emperor whose capital is to the earth a star, and he as the brightness thereof, had taken refuge with him from the storm, and was now his guest, and languishing for want of amusement. would i tell her a story? i have a horde of parables, tales, and traditions, and many nations have contributed to it; but, alas, o princess! they are simple, and such as beguile tentmen and tentwomen shut in by the desert, their fancies tender as children's. i fear your laughter. but here i am; and as the night bird sings when the moon is risen, because the moon is beautiful and must be saluted, even so i am obedient. command me." the speech was in greek, with the slightest imperfection of accent; at the conclusion the princess was silent. "knowest thou"--she at length said--"knowest thou of one hatim, renowned as a warrior and poet of the arabs?" the eunuch saw the reference, and smiled. asking of hatim now was only another form of inquiry after his master; not merely had the latter been in her mind; she wished to know more about him. on his part, the story-teller arose from his servile posture, and asked with the animation of one to whom a favorite theme is presented: "noble lady, know you aught of the desert?" "i have never been there," the princess answered. "though not beautiful, it is the home of mysteries," he said, with growing enthusiasm. "when he whom in the same breath you worship as god and the son of god--an opposition beyond the depth of our simple faith--made ready to proclaim himself, he went for a time into the wilderness, and dwelt there. so likewise our prophet, seeing the dawn of his day, betook himself to hiva, a rock, bleak, barren, waterless. why, o princess, if not for purification, and because god of preference has founded his dwelling there, wasting it indeed the better to nurse his goodness in a perfected solitude? granting this, why may i not assert without shocking you that the sons of the desert are the noblest of men?-- "such was hatim! "in the hijaz and the nejd, they tell of him thus: "in the day the compassionate set about world-making, which is but a pastime with him, nor nearly so much as nest-building to a mother-dove, he rested. the mountains and rivers and seas were in their beds, and the land was variegated to please him, here a forest, there a grassy plain; nothing remained unfinished except the sand oceans, and they only wanted water. he rested. "now, if, with their sky, a sun-field in the day, a gallery of stars at night, and their winds, flying from sea to sea, but gathering no taint, the deserts are treeless, and unknowing the sweetness of gardens and the glory of grass, it was not by accident or forgetfulness; for with him, the compassionate, the merciful, there are no accidents or lapses of any kind. he is all attention and ever present. thus the throne verse--'drowsiness overcomes him not nor sleep.... his firmament spans the heaven and the earth, and the care of them does not distress him.' "why then the yellowness and the burning, the sameness and solitude, and the earth intolerant of rain and running stream, and of roads and paths--why, if there was neither accident nor forgetfulness? "he is the high and the great! accuse him not! "in that moment of rest, not from weariness or overburden, but to approve the work done, and record the approval as a judgment, he said, speaking to his almightiness as to a familiar: 'as it is it shall stay. a time will come when with men i, and the very name of me, shall go out utterly like the green of last year's leaf. he who walks in a garden thinks of it only; but he who abides in a desert, wanting to see the beautiful, must look into the sky, and looking there he shall be reminded of me, and say aloud and as a lover, 'there is no god but him, the compassionate, the merciful.... the eyes see him not, but he seeth the eyes; and he is the gracious, the knowing'.... so also comes a time when religion shall be without heart, dead, and the quickening of worship lost in idolatry; when men shall cry, god, my god, to stones and graven images, and sing to hear their singing, and the loud music it goes with. and that time shall be first in lands of growth and freshness, in cities where comforts and luxuries are as honey in hives after the flowering of palms. wherefore--lo, the need of deserts. there i shall never be forgotten. and out of them, out of their hardness and heat, out of their yellow distances and drouth, religion shall arise again, and go forth purified unto universality; for i shall be always present there, a life-giver. and against those days of evil, i shall keep men there, the best of their kind, and their good qualities shall not rust; they shall be brave, for i may want swords; they shall keep the given word, for as i am the truth, so shall my chosen be; there shall be no end to charity among them, for in such lands charity is life, and must take every form, friendship, love of one another, love of giving, and hospitality, unto which are riches and plenty. and in their worship, i shall be first, and honor next. and as truth is the soul of the world, it being but another of my names, for its salvation they shall speak with tongues of fire, this one an orator, that one a poet; and living in the midst of death, they shall fear me not at all, but dishonor more. mine are the sons of the desert--the word-keepers!--the unconquered and conquerless! for my name's sake, i nominate them mine, and i alone am the high and the great.... and there shall be amongst them exemplars of this virtue and that one singly; and at intervals through the centuries standards for emulation among the many, a few, in whom all the excellences shall be blent in indivisible comeliness.' "so came hatim, of the bene-tayyi, lustrous as the moon of ramazan to eager watchers on high hilltops, and better than other men, even as all the virtues together are better than any one of them, excepting charity and love of god. "now hatim's mother was a widow, poor, and without relations, but beloved by the compassionate, and always in his care, because she was wise beyond the men of her time, and kept his laws, as they were known, and taught them to her son. one day a great cry arose in the village. everybody rushed to see the cause, and then joined in the clamor. "up in the north there was an appearance the like of which had never been beheld, nor were there any to tell what it was from hearsay. some pooh-poohed, saying, contemptuously: "'tis only a cloud.' "others, observing how rapidly it came, in movement like a bird sailing on outspread motionless wings, said: "'a roc! a roc!' "when the object was nearer, a few of the villagers, in alarm, ran to their houses, shrieking: "'israfil, israfil! he is bringing the end of time!' "soon the sight was nearly overhead; then it was going by, its edge overhead, the rest of it extending eastwardly; and it was long and broad as a pasture for ten thousand camels, and horses ten thousand. it had no likeness earthly except a carpet of green silk; nor could those standing under describe what bore it along. they thought they heard the sound of a strong wind, but as the air above far and near was full of birds great and small, birds of the water as well as the land, all flying evenly with the carpet, and making a canopy of their wings, and shade deeper than a cloud's, the beholders were uncertain whether the birds or the wind served it. in passing, it dipped gently, giving them a view of what it carried--a throne of pearl and rainbow, and a crowned king sitting in majesty; at his left hand, an army of spirits, at his right, an army of men in martial sheen. "while the prodigy was before them, the spectators stirred not; nor was there one brave enough to speak; most of them with their eyes devoured it all, king and throne, birds, men and spirits; though afterwards there was asking: "'did you see the birds?' "'no.' "'the spirits?' "'no.' "'the men?' "'i saw only the king upon his throne.' "in the passing, also, a man, in splendor of apparel, stood on the carpet's edge and shouted: "'god is great! i bear witness there is no god but god.' "the same instant something fell from his hand. when the marvel was out of sight in the south, some bethought them, and went to see what it was which fell. they came back laughing, 'it was only a gourd, and as we have much better on our camel-saddles, we threw it away.' "but the mother of hatim, listening to the report, was not content. in her childhood she heard what was tradition then; how solomon, at the completion of his temple in jerusalem, journeyed to mecca upon a carpet of silk wafted by the wind, with men, spirits, and birds. wherefore, saying to herself, 'it was solomon going to mecca. not for nothing threw he the gourd,' she went alone, and brought it in, and opened it, finding three seeds--one red, like a ruby; a second blue, like a sapphire; the third green, like an emerald. "now she might have sold the seeds, for they were beautiful as gems cut for a crown, and enriched herself; but hatim was all the world to her. they were for him, she said, and getting a brown nut such as washes up from vines in the sea, she cut it, put the treasures into it, sealed them there, and tied them around the boy's neck. "'thanks, o solomon,' she said. 'there is no god but god; and i shall teach the lesson to my hatim in the morning, when _al hudhud_ flies for water; at noon, when it whistles to itself in the shade; and at night, when it draws a wing over its head to darken the darkness, and sleep.' "and from that day through all his days hatim wore the brown nut with the three seeds in it; nor was there ever such an amulet before or since; for, besides being defended by the genii who are solomon's servants, he grew one of the exemplars promised by god, having in himself every virtue. no one braver than he; none so charitable; none so generous and merciful; none so eloquent; none on whose lips poetry was such sweet speech for the exalting of souls; above all, never had there been such a keeper of his word of promise. "and of this judge you by some of the many things they tell of him. "a famine fell upon the land. it was when hatim had become sheik of his tribe. the women and children were perishing. the men could no more than witness their suffering. they knew not whom to accuse; they knew no one to receive a prayer. the time predicted was come--the name of god had gone out utterly, like the green of last year's leaf. in the sheik's tent even, as with the poorest, hunger could not be allayed--there was nothing to eat. the last camel had been devoured--one horse remained. more than once the good man went out to kill him, but the animal was so beautiful--so affectionate--so fleet! and the desert was not wide enough to hold his fame! how much easier to say, 'another day--to-morrow it may rain.' "he sat in his tent telling his wife and children stories, for he was not merely the best warrior of his day; he was the most renowned poet and storyteller. riding into battle, his men would say, 'sing to us, o hatim--sing, and we will fight.' and they he loved best, listening to him, had nigh forgot their misery, when the curtain of the tent was raised. "'who is there?' he asked. "'thy neighbor,' and the voice was a woman's. 'my children are anhungred and crying, and i have nothing for them. help, o sheik, help or they die.' "'bring them here,' he said, rising. "'she is not worse off than we,' said his wife, 'nor are her children more hungry than ours. what will you do?' "'the appeal was to me,' he answered. "and passing out, he slew the horse, and kindled a fire; then, while the stranger and her children were sharing piece by piece with his own, 'shame, shame!' he said, 'that ye alone should eat;' and going through the dowar, he brought the neighbors together, and he only went hungry. there was no more of the meat left. was ever one merciful like hatim? in combat, he gave lives, but took none. once an antagonist under his foot, called to him: 'give me thy spear, hatim,' and he gave it. "'foolish man!' his brethren exclaimed. "'what else was there?' he answered. 'did not the poor man ask a gift of me?' "never a captive besought his help vainly. on a journey once, a prisoner begged him to buy his liberty; but he was without the money required, and on that account he was sorely distressed. to his entreaties, the strangers listened hard-heartedly; at last he said to them: "am not i--hatim--good as he? let him go, and take me.' "and knocking the chains from the unfortunate, he had them put on himself, and wore them until the ransom came. "in his eyes a poet was greater than a king, and than singing a song well the only thing better was being the subject of a song. perpetuation by tombs he thought vulgar; so the glory unremembered in verse deserved oblivion. was it wonderful he gave and kept giving to story-tellers, careless often if what he thus disposed of was another's? "once in his youth--and at hearing this, o princess, the brown-faced sons of the desert, old and young, laugh, and clap their hands--he gave of his grandfather's store until the prudent old man, intending to cure him of his extravagance, sent him to tend his herds in the country. alas! "across the plain hatim one day beheld a caravan, and finding it escorting three poets to the court of the king of el-herah, he invited them to stop with him, and while he killed a camel for each of them, they recited songs in his praise, and that of his kin. when they wished to resume the journey, he detained them. "'there is no gift like the gift of song,' he said. 'i will do better by you than will he, the king to whom you are going. stay with me, and for every verse you write i will give you a camel. behold the herd!' "and at departing, they had each a hundred camels, and he three hundred verses. "'where is the herd?' the grandfather asked, when next he came to the pasture. "'see thou. here are songs in honor of our house,' hatim answered, proudly--'songs by great poets; and they will be repeated until all arabia is filled with our glory.' "'alas! thou hast ruined me!' the elder cried, beating his breast. "'what!' said hatim, indignantly. 'carest thou more for the dirty brutes than for the crown of honor i bought with them?'" here the arab paused. the recitation, it is to be remarked, had been without action, or facial assistance--a wholly unornate delivery; and now he kept stately silence. his eyes, intensely bright in the shadow of the _kufiyeh,_ may have produced the spell which held the princess throughout; or it may have been the eyes and voice; or, quite as likely, the character of hatim touched a responsive chord in her breast. "i thank you," she said, adding presently: "in saying i regret the story ended so soon, i pray you receive my opinion of its telling. i doubt if hatim himself could have rendered it better." the arab recognized the compliment with the faintest of bows, but made no reply in words. irene then raised her veil, and spoke again. "thy hatim, o eloquent arab, was warrior and poet, and, as thou hast shown him to me, he was also a philosopher. in what age did he live?" "he was a shining light in the darkness preceding the appearance of the prophet. that period is dateless with us." "it is of little consequence," she continued. "had he lived in our day, he would have been more than poet, warrior and philosopher--he would be a christian. his charity and love of others, his denial of self, sound like the christ. doubtless he could have died for his fellow-men. hast thou not more of him? surely he lived long and happily." "yes," said the arab, with a flash of the eyes to denote his appreciation of the circumstance. "he is reported to have been the most wretched of men. his wife--i pray you will observe i am speaking by the tradition--his wife had the power, so dreadful to husbands, of raising iblis at pleasure. it delighted her to beat him and chase him from his tent; at last she abandoned him." "ah!" the princess exclaimed. "his charities were not admirable in her eyes." "the better explanation, princess, may be found in a saying we have in the desert--'a tall man may wed a small woman, but a great soul shall not enter into bonds with a common one.'" there was silence then, and as the gaze of the story-teller was again finding a fascination in her face, irene took refuge behind her veil, but said, presently: "with permission, i will take the story of hatim for mine; but here is my friend--what hast thou for her?" the story-teller turned to lael. "her pleasure shall be mine," he said. "i should like something indian," the girl answered, timidly, for the eyes oppressed her also. "alas! india has no tales of love. her poetry is about gods and abstract religions. wherefore, if i may choose, i will a tale from persia next. in that country there was a verse-maker called firdousi, and he wrote a great poem, _the shah nameh_, with a warrior for hero. this is how rustem, in single combat, killed sohrab, not knowing the youth was his son until after the awful deed was done." the tale was full of melancholy interest, and told with singular grace; but it continued until after nightfall; of which the party was admonished by the attendants coming to light the lamps. at the conclusion, the arab courteously apologized for the time he had wrested from them. "in dealing with us, o princess," he said, "patience is full as lovely as charity." lifting the veil again, she extended her hand to him, saying, "the obligation is with us. i thank you for making light and pleasant an afternoon which else had been tedious." he kissed her hand, and followed the eunuch to the door. then the supper was announced. chapter xi the turquoise ring the prince of india, left in the passage of the castle with sergius, was not displeased with the course the adventure appeared to be taking. in the first place, he felt no alarm for lael; she might be uncomfortable in the quarter to which she had been conducted, but that was all, and it would not last long. the guardianship of the eunuch was in his view a guaranty of her personal safety. in the next place, acquaintance with the princess might prove serviceable in the future. he believed lael fitted for the highest rank; she was already educated beyond the requirements of the age for women; her beauty was indisputable; as a consequence, he had thought of her a light in the court; and not unpleasantly it occurred to him now that the fair princess might carry keys for both the inner and outer doors of the royal residence. generally the affair which was of concern to lael was an affair of absorbing interest to the prince; in this instance, however, another theme offered itself for the moment a superior attraction. the impression left by the young master of ceremonies in the reception at the landing was of a kind to arouse curiosity. his appearance, manner, speech and the homage paid him denoted exalted rank; while the confidence with which he spoke for sultan amurath was most remarkable. his acceptance of the terms presented by the princess irene was little short of downright treaty-making; and what common official dared carry assumption to such a height? finally the prince fell to thinking if there was any person the actual governor of the castle would quietly permit to go masquerading in his authority and title. then everything pointed him to prince mahommed. the correspondence in age was perfect; the martial array seen galloping down the bank was a fitting escort for the heir-apparent of the gray sultan; and he alone might with propriety speak for his father in a matter of state. "a mistake cannot be serious," said the prince to himself, at the end of the review. "i will proceed upon the theory that the young man is prince mahommed." this was no sooner determined than the restless mind flew forward to an audience. the time and place--midnight in the lonesome old castle--were propitious, and he was prepared for it. indeed it was the very purpose he had in view the night of the repast in his tent at el zaribah where he so mysteriously intrusted the emir mirza with revelations concerning the doom of constantinople. once more he ran over the scheme which had brought him from cipango. if islam could not be brought to lead in the project, christendom might be more amenable to reason. the moslem world was to be reached through the kaliph whom he expected to find in egypt; wherefore his contemplated trip down the nile from kash-cush. if driven to the christian, constantine was to be his operator. such in broadest generality was the plan of execution he had resolved upon. but to these possibilities he had appended another of which it is now necessary to speak. enough has been given to apprise the reader of the things to which the prince preferably devoted himself. these were international affairs, and transcendently war. if indeed the latter were not the object he had always specially in mind, it was the end to which his management usually conducted. for mere enjoyment in the sight of men facing the death which strangely passed him by, he delighted in hovering on the edge of battle until there was a crisis, and then plunging into its heated heart. he had also a peculiar method of bringing war about. this consisted in providing for punishments in case his enterprises miscarried. invariably somebody suffered for such failures. in that way he soothed the pangs of wounded vanity. when he was inventing the means for executing his plots, and forming the relations essential to them, it was his habit to select instruments of punishment in advance. probably no better illustration of this feature of his dealings can be given than is furnished by the affair now engaging him. if he failed to move the kaliph to lead the reform, he would resort to constantine; if the emperor also declined, he would make him pay the penalty; then came the reservation. so soon after his arrival from cipango as he could inform himself of the political conditions of the world to which he was returning, he fixed upon mahommed to avenge him upon the offending greek. the meeting with mirza at el zaribah was a favorable opportunity to begin operating upon the young turk. the tale the emir received that night under solemn injunctions of secrecy was really intended for his master. how well it was devised for the end in view the reader will be able to judge from what is now to follow. the audience with mahommed determined upon by the prince of india, our first point of interest is in observing how he set about accomplishing it. his promptness was characteristic. directly the ladies had disappeared with the eunuch, the soldiers poured from their hiding places in the castle, and seeing one whom he judged an officer, the prince called to him in turkish: "ho, my friend!" the man was obliging. "present my salutations to the governor of the castle, and say the prince of india desires speech with him." the soldier hesitated. "understand," said the prince, quickly, "my message is not to the great lord who received me at the landing. but the governor in fact. bring him here." the confident manner prevailed. presently the messenger returned with a burly, middle-aged person in guidance. a green turban above a round face, large black eyes in muffling of fleshy lids, pallid cheeks lost in dense beard, a drab gown lined with yellow fur, a naked cimeter in a silk-embroidered sash, bespoke the turk; but how unlike the handsome, fateful-looking masquerader at the river side! "the prince of india has the honor of speech with the governor of the castle?" "god be praised," the governor replied. "i was seeking your highness. besides wishing to join in your thanks for happy deliverance from the storm, i thought to discharge my duty as a moslem host by conducting you to refreshments and repose. follow me, i pray." a few steps on the way, the governor stopped: "was there not a companion--a younger man--a dervish?" "a monk," said the prince; "and the question reminds me of my attendant, a negro. send for him--or better, bring them both to me. i wish them to share my apartment." in a short time the three were in quarters, if one small room may be so dignified. the walls were cold gray stone; one oblong narrow port-hole admitted scanty light; a rough bench, an immense kettle-drum shaped like the half of an egg-shell, and propped broadside up, some piles of loose straw, each with folded sheepskins on it, constituted the furnishment. sergius made no sign of surprise or disappointment. possibly the chamber and its contents were reproductions of his cell up in bielo-osero. nilo gave himself to study of the drum, reminded, doubtless, of similar warlike devices in kash-cush. the prince alone expostulated. taking a stand between the governor and the door, he said: "a question before thou goest hence." the turk gazed at him silently. "to what accommodations have the princess irene and her attendant been taken? are they vile as these?" "the reception room of my harem is the most comfortable the castle affords," the governor answered. "and they?" "they are occupying it." "not by courtesy of thine. he who could put the hospitality of the prince mahommed to shame by maltreating one of his guests." he paused, and grimly surveyed the room. "such a servant would be as evil-minded to another guest; and that the other is a woman, would not affect his imbruited soul." "the prince mahommed!" the governor exclaimed. "yes. what brings him here, matters not; his wish to keep the romans in ignorance of his near presence, i know as well as thou; none the less, it was his royal word we accepted. as for thee--thou mightest have promised faith and hospitality with thy hand on the prophet's beard, yet would i have bidden the princess trust herself to the tempest sooner." sergius was now standing by, but the conversation being in turkish, he listened without understanding. "thou ass!" the prince continued. "not to know that the kinswoman of the roman emperor, under this roof by treaty with the mighty amurath, his son the negotiator, is our guardian! when the storm shall have spent itself, and the waters quieted down, she will resume her journey. then--it may be in the morning--she will first ask for us, and then thy master will require to know how we have passed the night. ah, thou beginnest to see!" the governor's head was drooping; his hands crossed themselves upon his stomach; and when he raised his eyes, they were full of deprecation and entreaty. "your highness--most noble lord--condescend to hear me." "speak. i am awake to hear the falsehood thou hast invented in excuse of thy perfidy to us, and thy treason to him, the most generous of masters, the most chivalrous of knights." "your highness has greatly misconceived me. in the first place you have forgotten the crowded state of the castle. every room and passage is filled with the suite and escort of"-- he hesitated, and turned pale, like a man dropped suddenly into a great danger. the shrewd guest caught at the broken sentence and finished it: "of prince mahommed!" "with the suite and escort," the governor repeated.... "in the next place, it was not my intention to leave you unprovided. from my own apartments, light, beds and seats were ordered to be brought here, with meats for refreshment, and water for cleansing and draught. the order is in course of execution now. indeed, your highness, i swear by the first chapter of the koran"-- "take something less holy to swear by," cried the prince. "then, by the bones of the faithful, i swear i meant to make you comfortable, even to my own deprivation." "by thy young master's bidding?" the governor bent forward very low. "well," said the prince, softening his manner--"the misconception was natural." "yes--yes." "and now thou hast only to prove thy intention by making it good." "trust me, your highness." "trust thee? ay, on proof. i have a commission"-- the prince then drew a ring from his finger. "take this," he said, "and deliver it to the emir mirza." the assurance of the speech was irresistible; so the turk held out his hand to receive the token. "and say to the emir, that i desire him to thank the most compassionate and merciful for the salvation of which we were witnesses at the southwest corner of the kaaba." "what!" exclaimed the governor. "art thou a moslem?" "i am not a christian." the governor, accepting the ring, kissed the hand offering it, and took his departure, moving backward, and with downcast eyes, his manner declarative of the most abject humility. hardly was the door closed behind the outgoing official, when the prince began to laugh quietly and rub his hands together--quietly, we say, for the feeling was not merriment so much as self-gratulation. there was cleverness in having doubted the personality of the individual who received the refugees at the landing; there was greater cleverness in the belief which converted the governor into the prince mahommed; but the play by which the fact was uncovered--if not a stroke of genius, how may it be better described? the prince of india thought as he laughed: "not long now until amurath joins his fathers, and then--mahommed." presently he stopped, a step half taken, his gaze upon the floor, his hands clasped behind him. he stood so still it would not have been amiss to believe a thought was all the life there was in him. he certainly did believe in astrology. had not men been always ruled by what they imagined heavenly signs? how distinctly he remembered the age of the oracle and the augur! upon their going out he became a believer in the stars as prophets, and then an adept; afterwhile he reached a stage when he habitually mistook the commonest natural results, even coincidences, for confirmations of planetary forecasts. and now this halting and breathlessness was from sudden recollection that the horoscope lying on his table in constantinople had relation to mahommed in his capacity of conqueror. how marvellous also that from the meeting with constantine in the street of the city, he should have been blown by a tempest to a meeting with mahommed in the white castle! these circumstances, trifling to the reader, were of deep influence to the prince of india. while he stands there rigid as a figure marbleized in mid action, he is saying to himself: "the audience will take place--heaven has ordered it. would i knew what manner of man this mahommed is!" he had seen a handsome youth, graceful in bearing, quick and subtle in speech, cultivated and evidently used to governing. very good, but what an advantage there would be in knowing the bents and inclinations of the royal lad beforehand. presently the schemer's head arose. the boyish prince was going about in armor when soft raiment would be excusable--and that meant ambition, dreams of conquest, dedication to martial glory. very good indeed! and then his manner under the eyes of the girlish princess--how quickly her high-born grace had captivated him! something impossible were he not of a romantic turn, a poet, sentimentalist, knight errant. the prince clapped his hands. he knew the appeals effective with such natures. let the audience come.... ah, but-- again he sunk into thought. youths like mahommed were apt to be wilful. how was he to be controlled? one expedient after another was swiftly considered and as swiftly rejected. at last the right one! like his ancestors from ertoghrul down, the young turk was a believer in the stars. not unlikely he was then in the castle by permission of his astrologer. indeed, if mirza had repeated the conversation and predictions at el zaribah, the prince of india was being waited for with an impatience due a master of the astral craft. again the wanderer cried, "let the audience come!" and peace and confidence were possessing him when a loud report and continuous rumble in the room set the solid floor to quaking. he looked around in time to see the big drum quivering under a blow from nilo. from the negro his gaze wandered to sergius standing before the one loophole by which light and air were let into the dismal chamber; and recalling the monk as the sole attendant of the princess irene, he thought it best to speak to him. drawing near, he observed the cowl thrown back, and that the face was raised, the eyes closed, the hands palm to palm upon the breast. involuntarily he stopped, not because he was one of those who always presume the most holy presence when prayer is being offered--he stopped, wondering where he had seen that countenance. the delicate features, the pallid complexion, the immature beard, the fair hair parted in the middle, and falling in wavy locks over the shoulders, the aspect manly yet womanly in its refinement, were strangely familiar to him. it was his first view of the monk's face. where had he seen it? his memory went back, far back of the recent. a chill struck his heart. the features, look, air, portrait, the expression indefinable except as a light of outcoming spirit, were those of the man he had helped crucify before the damascus gate in the holy city, and whom he could no more cast out of mind than he could the bones from his body. his feet seemed rooting into the flinty flags beneath them. he heard the centurion call to him: "ho, there! if thou knowest the golgotha, come show it." he felt the sorrowful eyes of the condemned upon him. he struck the bloody cheek, and cried as to a beast: "go faster, jesus!" and then the words, wrung from infinite patience at last broken: "i am going, but do thou tarry till i come." for relief, he spoke: "what dost thou, my friend?" sergius opened his eyes and answered simply, "i am praying." "to whom?" "to god." "art thou a christian?" "yes." "god is for the jew and the moslem." "nay," said sergius, looking at the prince without taking down his hands, "all who believe in god find happiness and salvation in him--the christian as well as the jew and the moslem." the questions had been put with abrupt intensity; now the inquisitor drew back astonished. he heard the very postulate of the scheme to which he was devoting himself--and from a boy so like the dead christ he was working to blot out of worship he seemed the christ arisen! the amazement passed slowly, and with its going the habitual shrewdness and capacity to make servants of circumstances apparently the most untoward returned. the youth had intellect, impressiveness, aptitude in words, and a sublime idea. but what of his spirit--his courage--his endurance in the faith? "how came this doctrine to thee?" the prince spoke deferentially. "from the good father hilarion." "who is he?" "the archimandrite of bielo-osero." "a monastery?" "yes." "how did he receive it?" "from the spirit of god, whence christ had his wisdom--whence all good men have their goodness--by virtue of which they, like him, become sons of god." "what is thy name?" "sergius." "sergius"--the prince, now fully recovered, exerted his power of will--"sergius, thou art a heretic." at this accusation, so terrible in those days, the monk raised the rosary of large beads dangling from his girdle, kissed the cross, and stood surveying the accuser with pity. "that is," the prince continued with greater severity, "speak thou thus to the patriarch yonder"--he waved a hand toward constantinople--"dare repeat the saying to a commission appointed to try thee for heresy, and thou wilt thyself taste the pangs of crucifixion or be cast to the beasts." the monk arose to his great height, and replied, fervently: "knowest thou when death hath the sweetness of sleep? i will tell thee"--a light certainly not from the narrow aperture in the wall collected upon his countenance, and shone visibly--"it is when a martyr dies knowing both of god's hands are a pillow under his head." the prince dropped his eyes, for he was asking himself, was such sweetness of sleep appointed for him? resuming his natural manner, he said: "i understand thee, sergius. probably no man in the world, go thou east or west, will ever understand thee better. god's hands under my head, welcome death!--let us be friends." sergius took his offered hand. just then there was a noise at the door, and a troop of servants entered with lighted lamps, rugs, a table, stools, and beds and bedding, and it was not long until the apartment was made habitable. the prince, otherwise well satisfied, wanted nothing then but a reply from mirza; and in the midst of his wonder at the latter's delay, a page in brilliant costume appeared, and called out: "the emir mirza!" chapter xii the ring returns the prince, at the announcement of mirza, took position near the centre of the room where the light was ample. his black velvet pelisse contrasting strongly with his white hair and beard, he looked a mysterious indian potentate to whom occult nature was a familiar, and the stars oracular friends. mirza's cheeks were scarcely so sun and sand stained as when we first beheld him in conduct of the caravan to mecca; in other respects he was unchanged. his attire, like the lord mahommed's at the reception on the landing, was of chain mail very light and flexible. he carried a dagger in his belt, and to further signify confidence in the prince, the flat steel cap forming his headgear was swinging loosely from his left arm; or he might have intended to help his friend to a more ready recognition by presenting himself bareheaded. he met his survey with unaffected pleasure, took the hand extended in greeting, and kissed it reverentially. "forgive me, o prince, if my first greeting have the appearance of a reproach," mirza said, as he gave up the hand. "why have you kept us waiting so long?" the prince's countenance assumed a severe expression. "emir, i gave you confidence under seal." the emir flushed deeply. "was it knightly to betray me? to whom have you told the secret? how many have been waiting for my coming?" "be merciful, i pray." "but the stars. you have made me culprit with them. i may pardon you; can you assure me of their pardon?" the emir raised his head, and with an expostulatory gesture, was about to reply, when the prince continued, "put thy words in the tongue coinage of italy, for to be overheard now were to make me an offender like unto thyself." mirza glanced hastily at sergius, still praying before the loophole, and at nilo; then he surveyed the cell critically, and said, in italian, "this is the prison of the castle--and thou--can it be i see thee a prisoner?" the prince smiled. "the governor led me here with my friends; and what you behold of accommodations he sent in afterwards, saying the better rooms were filled with soldiery." "he will rue the deed. my lord is swift at righting a wrong, and trust me, o prince, to make report. but to return"--mirza paused, and looked into the prince's eyes earnestly--"is your accusation just? hear me; then by the motive judge. when i stood before my master, prince mahommed, a returned pilgrim, if not taller in fact, his bearing was more majestic. i kissed his hand wondering if some servant of the compassionate, some angel or travelling jinn, had not arrived before me, and whispered him of what you told me, speaking for the stars. and when we were alone, he would have account of the countries journeyed through, of the people met, of medina and mecca, and the other holy places; nor would he rest until he had from me the sayings i had heard on the way, everything from calls to prayer to the khatib's sermon. when i told him i had not heard the sermon, nor seen the preacher or his camel, he demanded why, and--what else was there to do, o prince?--i related how we had been pursued by the terrible yellow air; how it had overtaken me; how i fell down dying at the corner of the kaaba, and by whom i was saved even as the life was departing. this last directed him to you. my efforts to put him off but whetted his desire. he would not be diverted or denied. he insisted--urged--threatened. at last i told him all--of your joining us with the hajj from el khatif--your rank and train--your marches in the rear--the hundreds of miserables you saved from the plague--of our meeting at zaribah, your hospitality, your learning in all that pertains to the greatest of the prophets, your wisdom above the wisdom of other men. and you grew upon him as i proceeded. 'oh, a good man truly!' 'what courage!' 'what charity!' 'the prophet himself!' 'oh, that i had been you!' 'o foolish mirza, to suffer such a man to escape!' with such exclamations he kept breaking up my story. it was not long until he fastened upon our meeting in the tent. he plied me to know of what we talked--what you said, and all you said. o prince, if you did but know him; if you knew the soul possessing him, the intellectual things he has mastered, his sagacity, his art, his will, his day-dreams pursuing him in sleep, the deeds he is prepared to do, the depth and strength of his passions, his admiration for heroes, his resolve to ring the world with the greatness of his name--oh, knew you the man as i do, were you his lover as i am, his confidant--had you, for teaching him to ride and strike with sword and spear, his promise of a share in the glory beckoning him on, making his mighty expectations a part of you even as they are of him, would you--ah, prince, could you have withheld the secret? think of the revelation! the old east to awake, and march against the west! constantinople doomed! and he the leader for whom the opportunity is waiting! and to call my weakness betrayal! unsay it, unsay it, prince!" the face of the auditor as mirza proceeded with his defence would have been a profitable study. he saw himself succeeding in the purpose of his affected severity; he was drawing from mahommed's intimate the information he most desired; and thus advised in advance, his role in the interview coming would be of easy foresight and performance. not to appear too lightly satisfied, however, he said gravely, "i see the strain you underwent, my gallant friend. i see also the earnestness of your affection for your most noble pupil. he is to be congratulated upon the possession of a servant capable of such discernment and devotion. but i recall my question--how many are there waiting for me?" "your revelations, o prince, were imparted to my master alone; and with such certainty as you know yourself, you may believe them at rest in his bosom. no one better than he appreciates the importance of keeping them there under triple lock. more than one defeat--i think he would permit the confession--has taught him that secrecy is the life of every enterprise." "say you so, emir? i feel warmth returning to my hope. nay, listening to you, and not believing in improvised heroes, i see how your course may have been for the best. the years gone since you yielded to his importunities, wisely used, have doubtless served him providentially." the prince extended his hand again, and it was ardently taken; then, on his part, more than pleased, mirza said, "i bring you a message from my lord mahommed. i was with him when the governor came and delivered your ring to me--and, lest i forget a duty, prince, here it is--take it at some future time it may be serviceable as today." "yes, well thought!" the jew exclaimed, replacing the signet on his finger, and immediately, while looking at the turquoise eye, he dropped his tone into the solemn, "ay, the obligations of the pentagram endure--they are like a decree of god." the words and manner greatly impressed mirza. "my lord mahommed," he said, "observed the delivery of the ring to me by the governor; and when we were alone, and i had recounted the story of the jewels, 'what!' my lord cried, quite as transported as myself. 'that wonderful man--he here--here in this castle! he shall not escape me. send for him at once. i brook no delay.' he stamped his foot. 'lest he vanish in the storm--go!' when i was at the door, he bade me come back. 'the elder man with the white beard and black eyes, said you? it were well for me to begin by consulting his comfort. he may be tired, and in want of repose; his accommodations may be insufficient; wherefore go see him first, and ascertain his state and wishes.' and as i was going, he summoned me to return again. 'a moment--stay!' he said.'the circumstance enlarges with thought. thou knowest, mirza, i did not come here with a special object; i was drawn involuntarily; now i see it was to meet him. it is a doing of the stars. i shall hear from them!' o prince"--mirza's eyes sparkled, arid he threw up both his hands--"if ever man believed what he said, my master did." "a wise master truly," said the jew, struggling with his exultation. "what said he next?" "'while i am honoring their messenger'--thus my lord continued--'why not honor the stars? their hour is midnight, for then they are all out, from this horizon and that calling unto each other, and merging their influences into the harmony the preachers call the will of the most merciful. a good hour for the meeting. hear, mirza--at midnight--in this room. go now.' and so it is appointed." "and well appointed, emir." "shall i so report?" "with my most dutiful protestations." "look for me then at midnight." "i shall be awake, and ready." "meantime, prince, i will seek an apartment more in correspondence with the degree of my lord's most honored guest." "nay, good mirza, suffer me to advise in that matter. the bringing me into this place was a mistake of the governor's. he could not divine the merit i have in your master's eyes. he took me for a christian. i forgive him, and pray he may not be disturbed. he may be useful to me. upon the springing of a mischance--there is one such this instant in my mind's eye--i may be driven to come back to this castle. in such an event, i prefer him my servant rather than my enemy." "o prince!" "nay, emir, the idea is only a suggestion of one of the prophets whom allah stations at the turns in every man's career." "but every man cannot see the prophets." the jew finished gravely: "rather than disturb the governor further, soothe him for me; and when the lord mahommed goes hence, do thou see an instruction is left putting the castle and its chief at my order. also, as thou art a grateful friend, mirza, serve me by looking into the kettles out of which we are to have our refreshment, and order concerning them as for thyself. i feel a stir of appetite." the emir backed from the apartment, leaving a low salaam just outside the door. if the reader thinks the prince content now, he is not mistaken. true he paced the floor long and rapidly; but, feeling himself close upon a turn in his course, he was making ready for it perfectly as possible by consulting the prophet whom he saw waiting there. and as the lord mahommed failed not to remember them what time he betook himself to supper, the three guests up in the prison fared well, nor cared for the howling of the wind, and the bursting and beating of the rain still rioting without the walls. chapter xiii mahommed hears from the stars the second recall of the emir mirza departing with the appointment for the prince of india was remarkable, considering mahommed's usual quickness of conclusion and steadiness of purpose; and the accounting for it is noteworthy. so completely had the young turk been taken up by study and military service that leisure for love had been denied him; else he either despised the passion or had never met a woman to catch his fancy and hold it seriously. we have seen him make the white castle by hard galloping before the bursting of the storm. while at the gate, and in the midst of his reception there, the boats were reported making all speed to the river landing; and not wishing his presence at the castle to be known in constantinople, he despatched an under officer to seize the voyagers, and detain them until he had crossed the bosphorus _en route_ to adrianople. however, directly the officer brought back the spirited message of the princess irene to the governor of the castle, his mind underwent a change. "what," he asked, "sayst thou the woman is akin to the emperor constantine?" "such is her claim, my lord, and she looks it." "is she old?" "young, my lord--not more than twenty." mahommed addressed the governor: "stay thou here. i will take thy office, and wait upon this princess." dismounting, then, in the capacity of governor of the castle, he hastened to the landing, curious as well as desirous of offering refuge to the noble lady. he saw her first a short way off, and was struck with her composed demeanor. during the discussion of his tender of hospitality, her face was in fair view, and it astonished him. when finally she stepped from the boat, her form, delicately observable under the rich and graceful drapery, and so exquisitely in correspondence with her face, still further charmed him. before the chairs were raised, he sent a messenger to the castle with orders to place everybody in hiding, and for his kislar-aga, or chief eunuch, to be in the passage of entrance to receive and take charge of the kinswoman of the emperor and her attendant. by a further order the governor proper was directed to vacate his harem apartments for her accommodation. in the castle, after the princess had been thus disposed of, the impression she made upon him increased. "she is so high-born!--so beautiful!--she has such spirit and mind!--she is so calm under trial--so courageous--so decorous--so used to courtly life!" such exclamations attested the unwonted ferment going on in his mind. gradually, as tints under the brush of a skilful painter lose themselves in one effect, his undefined ideas took form. "o allah! what a sultana for a hero!" and by repetition this ran on into what may be termed the chorus of a love song--the very first of the kind his soul had ever sung. such was mahommed's state when mirza received the turquoise ring, and, announcing the prince of india, asked for orders. was it strange he changed his mind? indeed he was at the moment determining to see again the woman who had risen upon him like a moon above a lake; so, directly he had despatched the emir to the prince of india with the appointment for midnight, he sent for an arab sheik of his suite, arrayed himself in the latter's best habit, and stained his hands, neck, and face-turned himself, in brief, into the story-teller whom we have seen admitted to amuse the princess irene. at midnight, sharply as the hour could be determined by the uncertain appliances resorted to by the inmates of the castle, mirza appeared at his master's door with the mystical indian, and, passing the sentinel there, knocked like one knowing himself impatiently awaited. a voice bade them enter. the young turk, upon their entrance, arose from a couch of many cushions prepared for him under a canopy in the centre of the room. "this, my lord, is the prince of india" said mirza; then, almost without pause, he turned to the supposed indian, and added more ceremoniously: "be thou happy, o prince! the east hath not borne a son so worthy to take the flower from the tomb of saladin, and wear it, as my master here--the lord mahommed." then, his duty done, the emir retired. mahommed was in the garb used indoors immemorially by his race--sharply pointed slippers, immense trousers gathered at the ankles, a yellow quilted gown dropping below the knees, and a turban of balloon shape, its interfolding stayed by an aigrette of gold and diamonds. his head was shaven up to the edge of the turban, so that, the light falling from a cluster of lamps in suspension from the ceiling, every feature was in plain exposure. looking into the black eyes scarcely shaded by the upraised arching brows, the prince of india saw them sparkle with invitation and pleasure, and was himself satisfied. he advanced, and saluted by falling upon his knees, and kissing the back of his hands laid palm downward on the floor. mahommed raised him to his feet. "rise, o prince!" he said--"rise, and come sit with me." from behind the couch, the turk dragged a chair of ample seat, railed around except at the front, and provided with a cushion of camel's hair--a chair such as teachers in the mosques use when expounding to their classes. this he placed so while he sat on the couch the visitor would be directly before him, and but little removed. soon the two were sitting cross-legged face to face. "a man devout as the prince of india is reported to me," mahommed began, in a voice admirably seconding the respectful look he fixed upon the other, "must be of the rightly guided, who believe in god and the last day, and observe prayer, and pay the alms, and dread none but god--who therefore of right frequent the temples." "your words, my lord, are those of the veritable messenger of the most high heaven," the wanderer responded, bending forward as if about to perform a prostration. "i recognize them, and they give me the sensation of being in a garden of perpetual abode, with a river running beneath it." mahommed, perceiving the quotation from the koran, bent low in turn, saying: "it is good to hear you, for as i listen i say to myself, this one is of the servants of the merciful who are to walk upon the earth softly. i accost you in advance, welcome and peace." after a short silence, he continued: "a frequenter of mosques, you will see, o prince, i have put you in the teacher's place. i am the student. yours to open the book and read; mine to catch the pearls of your saying, lest they fall in the dust, and be lost." "i fear my lord does me honor overmuch; yet there is a beauty in willingness even where one cannot meet expectation. of what am i to speak?" mahommed knit his brows, and asked imperiously, "who art thou? of that tell me first." happily for the prince, he had anticipated this demand, and, being intensely watchful, was ready for it, and able to reply without blenching: "the emir introduced me rightly. i am a prince of india." "now of thy life something." "my lord's request is general--perhaps he framed it with design. left thus to my own judgment, i will be brief, and choose from the mass of my life." there was not the slightest sign of discomposure discernible in the look or tone of the speaker; his air was more than obliging--he seemed to be responding to a compliment. "i began walk as a priest--a disciple of siddhartha, whom my lord, of his great intelligence, will remember as born in central india. very early, on account of my skill in translation, i was called to china, and there put to rendering the thirty-five discourses of the father of the budhisattwa into chinese and thibettan. i also published a version of the lotus of the good law, and another of the nirvana. these brought me a great honor. to an ancestor of mine, maha kashiapa, buddha happened to have intrusted his innermost mysteries--that is, he made him keeper of the pure secret of the eye of right doctrine. behold the symbol of that doctrine." the prince drew a leaf of ivory, worn and yellow, from a pocket under his pelisse, and passed it to mahommed, saying, "will my lord look?" mahommed took the leaf, and in the silver sunk into it saw this sign: [illustration] "i see," he said, gravely. "give me its meaning." "nay, my lord, did i that, the doctrine of which, as successor of kashiapa, though far removed, they made me keeper--the very highest of buddhistic honors--would then be no longer a secret. the symbol is of vast sanctity. there is never a genuine image of buddha without it over his heart. it is the monogram of vishnu and siva; but as to its meaning, i can only say every brahman of learning views it worshipfully, knowing it the compression of the whole mind of buddha." mahommed respected the narrator's compunction, and returned the symbol, saying simply, "i have heard of such things." "to pursue," the prince then said, confident of the impression he was producing: "at length i returned to my own country enriched beyond every hope. a disposition to travel seized me. one day, passing the desert to baalbec, some bedouin made me prisoner, and carrying me to mecca, sold me to the scherif there; a good man who respected my misfortune and learning--may the youths ever going in paradise forget not his cup of flowing wine!--and wrought with me over the book of the one god until i became a believer like himself. then, as i had exchanged the hope of nirvana for the better and surer hope of islam, he set me free.... again in my native land, i betook myself to astrologic studies, being the more inclined thereto by reason of the years i had spent in contemplating the abstrusities of siddhartha. i became an adept--something, as my lord may already know, impossible to such as go about unknowing the whole earth and heavens, and the powers superior, those of the sky, and those lesser, meaning kings, emperors, and sultans." "how!" exclaimed mahommed. "is not every astrologer an adept?" the prince answered softly, seeing the drift was toward the professor in the young turk's service. "there is always a better until we reach the best. even the stars differ from each other in degree." "but how may a man know the superior powers?" "the sum of the observations kept by the wise through the ages, and recorded by them, is a legacy for the benefit of the chosen few. had my lord the taste, and were he not already devoted by destiny, i could take him to a college where what is now so curious to him is simple reading." the hard and doubting expression on mahommed's face began to soften, yet he persisted: "knowing the superior, why is it needful to know the inferior powers?" "my lord trenches now upon the forbidden, yet i will answer as his shrewdness deserves. never man heard from the stars in direct speech--that were almost like words with god. but as they are servants, they also have servants. moreover what we have from them is always in answer. they love to be sought after by the diligent. some ages ago an adept seeking this and that of them conjecturally, had reply, 'lo! a tribe of poor wanderers in the east. heed them, for they shall house their dominion in palaces now the glory of the west, and they shall dig the pit to compass the fall of the proud.' is it this tribe? is it that? but the seeker never knew. the children of ertoghrul were yet following their herds up and down the pastures they had from ala-ed-din, the iconian. not knowing their name, he could not ask of them from the decree-makers?" the mystic beheld the blood redden mahommed's open countenance, and the brightening of his eyes; and as he was speaking to his pride, he knew he was not amiss. "the saying of the stars," he went on, "descended to succeeding adepts. time came to their aid. when at length your fathers seated themselves in broussa, the mystery was in part revealed. anybody, even the low-browed herdsman shivering in the currents blowing from the trojan heights, could then have named the fortunate tribe. still the exposure was not complete; a part remained for finding out. we knew the diggers of the pit; but for whom was it? to this i devoted myself. hear me closely now--my lord, i have traversed the earth, not once, but many times--so often, you cannot name a people unknown to me, nor a land whither i have not been--no, nor an island. as the grandson of abd-el-muttalib was a messenger of god, i am a messenger of the predicting stars--not their prophet, only their interpreter and messenger. the business of the stars is my business." mahommed's lips moved, and it was with an effort he kept silent. the prince proceeded, apparently unconscious of the interest he was exciting: "here and there while i travelled, i kept communication with the planets; and though i had many of their predictions to solve, i asked them oftenest after the unnamed proud one for whom thy ottomanites were charged to dig a pit. i presented names without number--names of persons, names of peoples, and lest one should be overlooked, i kept a record of royal and notable families. was a man-child horn to any of them, i wrote down the minute of the hour of his birth, and how he was called. by visitations, i kept informed of the various countries, their conditions, and their relations with each other; for as the state of the earth points favorably or unfavorably to its vegetation, so do the conditions of nations indicate the approach of changes, and give encouragement to those predestined to bring the changes about. again i say, my lord, as the stars are the servants of god, they have their servants, whom you shall never know except as you are able to read the signs their times offer you for reading. moreover the servants are sometimes priests, sometimes soldiers, sometimes kings; among them have been women, and men of common origin; for the seed of genius falls directly from god's hand, and he chooses the time and field for the sowing; but whether high or low, white or black, good or bad, how shall a messenger interpret truly for the stars except by going before their elect, and introducing them, and making their paths smooth? must he not know them first?" a mighty impulsion here struck mahommed. recurring rather to what he had heard from mirza of the revelation dropped by the strange person met by him during the pilgrimage, he felt himself about to be declared of the elect, and unable to control his eagerness, he asked abruptly: "knowest thou me, o prince?" the manner of the mystic underwent a change. he had been deferential, even submissive; seldom a teacher so amiable and unmasterful; now he concentrated his power of spirit, and shot it a continuing flash from his large eyes. "know thee, lord mahommed?" he answered, in a low voice, but clear and searching, and best suited to the conflict he was ushering in--the conflict of spirit and spirit. "thou knowest not thyself as well." mahommed shrank perceptibly--he was astonished. "i mean not reference to thy father--nor to the christian princess, thy mother,--nor to thy history, which is of an obedient son and brave soldier,--nor to thy education, unusual in those born inheritors of royal power--i mean none of these, for they are in mouths everywhere, even of the beggars nursing their sores by the waysides.... in thy father's palace there was a commotion one night--thou wert about to be born. a gold-faced clock stood in the birth chamber, the gift of a german king, and from the door of the chamber eunuchs were stationed. exactly as the clock proclaimed midnight, mouth and mouth carried the cry to a man on the roof--'a prince is born! a prince is born! praised be allah!' he on the roof was seated at a table studying a paper with the signs of the zodiac in the usual formulary of a nativity. at the coming of the cry, he arose, and observed the heavens intently; then he shouted, 'there is no god but god! lo, mars, lord of the ascendant--mars, with his friends, saturn, venus, and jupiter in happy configuration, and the moon nowhere visible. hail the prince!' and while his answer was passing below, the man on the roof marked the planets in their houses exactly as they were that midnight between monday and tuesday in the year . have i in aught erred, my lord?" "in nothing, o prince." "then i proceed.... the nativity came to me, and i cast and recast it for the aspects, familiarities, parallels and triplicities of the hour, and always with the same result. i found the sun, the angles and the quality of the ambient signs favorable to a career which, when run, is to leave the east radiant with the glory of an unsetting sun." here the jew paused, and bowed--"now doth my lord doubt if i know him best?" chapter xiv dreams and visions mahommed sat awhile in deep abstraction, his face flushed, his hands working nervously in their own clasp. the subject possessing him was very pleasurable. how could it be else? on his side the prince waited deferentially, but very observant. he was confident of the impression made; he even thought he could follow the young turk's reflections point by point; still it was wisest to let him alone, for the cooling time of the sober second thought would come, and then how much better if there were room for him to believe the decision his own. "it is very well, prince," mahommed said, finally, struggling to keep down every sign of excitement. "i had accounts of you from mirza the emir, and it is the truth, which neither of us will be the worse of knowing, that i see nothing of disagreement in what he told me, and in what you now tell me of yourself. the conceptions i formed of you are justified: you are learned and of great experience; you are a good man given to charity as the prophet has ordered, and a believer in god. at various times in the world's history, if we may trust the writers, great men have had their greatness foretold them; now if i think myself in the way of addition to the list of those so fortunate, it is because i put faith in you as in a friendly prophet." at this the prince threw up both hands. "friendly am i, my lord, more than friendly, but not a prophet. i am only a messenger, an interpreter of the superior powers." much he feared the demands upon him if he permitted the impression that he was a prophet to go uncontradicted; as an astrologer, he could in need thrust the stars between him and the unreasonable. and his judgment was quickly affirmed. "as you will, o prince," said mahommed. "messenger, interpreter, prophet, whichever pleases you, the burden of what you bring me is nevertheless of chiefest account. comes a herald, we survey him, and ask voucher for his pretensions; are we satisfied with them, why then he gives place in our interest, and becomes secondary to the matter he bears. is it not so?" "it is righteously said, my lord." "and when i take up this which you have brought me"--mahommed laid a hand upon his throat as if in aid of the effort he was making to keep calm and talk with dignity--"i cannot deny its power; for when was there an imaginative young man who first permitted ambition and love of glory to build golden palaces for their abiding in his heart, with self-control to stop his ears to promises apparently from heaven? o prince, if you are indeed my friend, you will not laugh at me when you are alone!... moreover i would not you should believe your tidings received carelessly or as a morsel sweet on my tongue; but as wine warms to the blood coursing to the brain, it has started inquiries and anxieties you alone can allay. and first, the great glory whose running is to fill the east, like an unsetting sun, tell me of it; for, as we all know, glory is of various kinds; there is one kind reserved for poets, orators, and professors cunning in the arts, and another for cheer of such as find delight in swords and bossy shields, and armor well bedight, and in horses, and who exult in battle, and in setting armies afield, in changing boundary lines, and in taking rest and giving respite in the citadels of towns happily assaulted. and as of these the regard is various, tell me the kind mine is to be." "the stars speak not doubtfully, my lord. when mars rises ascendant in either of his houses, they that moment born are devoted to war, and, have they their bent, they shall be soldiers; nor soldiers merely, but as the conjunctions are good, conquerors, and fortunate, and samael, his angel, becomes their angel. has my lord ever seen his nativity?" "yes." "then he knows whereof i speak." mahommed nodded affirmatively, and said, "the fame is to my taste, doubt not; but, prince, were thy words duly weighed, then my glory is to be surpassing. now, i am of a line of heroes. othman, the founder; orchan, father of the janissaries; solyman, who accepted the crescent moon seen in a dream by the sea at cyzicus as allah's bidding to pass the hellespont to tzympe in europe; amurath, conqueror of adrianople; bajazet, who put an end to christian crusading in the field of nicopolis--these filled the east with their separate renowns; and my father amurath, did he not subdue hunyades? yet, prince, you tell me my glory is to transcend theirs. now--because i am ready to believe you--say if it is to burst upon me suddenly or to signalize a long career. the enjoyment of immortality won in youth must be a pleasant thing." "i cannot answer, my lord" "cannot?" and mahommed's eagerness came near getting the better of his will. "i have nothing from the stars by which to speak, and i dare not assume to reply for myself." then mahommed's eyes became severely bright, and the bones of his hands shone white through the skin, so hard did he compress them. "how long am i to wait before the glory you promise me ripens ready for gathering? if it requires long campaigns, shall i summon the armies now?" a tone, a stress of voice in the question sent a shiver through the prince despite his self-command. his gaze upon mahommed's countenance, already settled, intensified, and almost before the last word passed he saw the idea he was expected to satisfy, and that it was the point to which his interrogator had been really tending from the commencement of the interview. to gain a moment, he affected not to clearly understand; after a repetition, he in turn asked, with a meaning look: "is not thy father, o prince, now in his eighty-fifth year?" mahommed leaned further forward. "and is it not eight and twenty years since he began reigning wisely and well?" mahommed nodded assent. "suffer me to answer now. besides his age which pleads for him, your father has not allowed greatness and power to shade the love he gave you heartily the hour he first took you in his arms. nature protests against his cutting off, and in this instance, o prince, the voice of nature is the voice of allah. so say i speaking for myself." mahommed's face relaxed its hardness, and he moved and breathed freely while replying: "i do not know what the influences require of me." "speak you of the stars, my lord," the other returned, "hear me, and with distinctness. as yet they have intrusted me with the one prediction, and that you have. in other words, they are committed to a horoscope based upon your nativity, and from it your glory has been rightly delivered. so much is permitted us by the astrologic law we practise. but this now asked me, a circumstance in especial, appertains to you as chief of forces not yet yours. wherefore--heed well, my lord--i advise you to make note of the minute of the hour of the day you gird yourself with the sword of sovereignty which, at this speaking, is your great father's by sanction of heaven; then will i cast a horoscope for mahommed the sultan, not mahommed, son of amurath merely--then, by virtue of my office of interpreter of the stars, having the proper writing in my hand, i will tell you this you now seek, together with all else pertaining to your sovereignty intrusted me for communication. i will tell you when the glory is open to you, and the time for setting forward to make it yours--even the dawning of the term of preparation necessarily precedent to the movement itself. now am i understood? will my lord tell me i am understood?" an observation here may not be amiss. the reader will of course notice the clever obtrusion of the stars in the speech; yet its real craft was in the reservations covered. presuming it possible for the prince to have fixed a time to mahommed's satisfaction, telling it would have been like giving away the meat of an apple, and retaining the rind. the wise man who sets out to make himself a need to another will carefully husband his capital. moreover it is of importance to keep in mind through this period of our story that with the prince of india everything was subsidiary to his scheme of unity in god. to which end it was not enough to be a need to mahommed; he must also bring the young potentate to wait upon him for the signal to begin the movement against constantinople; for such in simplicity was the design scarcely concealed under the glozing of "the east against the west." that is to say, until he knew constantine's disposition with respect to the superlative project, his policy was delay. what, in illustration, if the emperor proved a friend? in falconry the hawk is carried into the field hooded, and cast off only when the game is flushed. so the prince of india thought as he concluded his speech, and looked at the handsome face of the lord mahommed. the latter was disappointed, and showed it. he averted his eyes, knit his brows, and took a little time before answering; then a flash of passion seized him. "with all thy wisdom, prince, thou knowest not how hard waiting will be. there is nothing in nature sweeter than glory, and on the other hand nothing so intolerably bitter as hungering for it when it is in open prospect. what irony in the providence which permits us to harvest greatness in the days of our decline! i dream of it for my youth, for then most can be made of it. there was a greek--not of the byzantine breed in the imperial kennel yonder"--he emphasized the negative with a contemptuous glance in the direction of constantinople--"a greek of the old time of real heroes, he who has the first place in history as a conqueror. think you he was happy because he owned the world? delight in property merely, a horse, a palace, a ship, a kingdom, is vulgar: any man can be owner of something; the beggar polishes his crutch for the same reason the king gilds his throne--it belongs to him. possession means satiety. but achieve thou immortality in thy first manhood, and it shall remain to thee as the ring to a bride or as his bride to the bridegroom.--let it be as you say. i bow to the stars. between me and the sovereignty my father stands, a good man to whom i give love for love; and he shall not be disturbed by me or any of mine. in so far i will honor your advice; and in the other matter also, there shall be one ready to note the minute of the hour the succession falls to me. but what if then you are absent?" "a word from my lord will bring me to him; and his majesty is liable to go after his fathers at any moment"-- "ay, and alas!" mahommed interposed, with unaffected sorrow, "a king may keep his boundaries clean, and even extend them thitherward from the centre, and be a fear unto men; yet shall death oblige him at last. all is from god." the prince was courtier enough to respect the feeling evinced. "but i interrupted you," mahommed presently added. "i pray pardon." "i was about to say, my lord, if i am not with you when his majesty, your father, bows to the final call--for the entertainment of such was paradise set upon its high hill!--let a messenger seek me in constantinople; and it may even serve well if the governor of this castle be instructed to keep his gates always open to me, and himself obedient to my requests." "a good suggestion! i will attend to it. but"-- again he lapsed into abstraction, and the prince held his peace watchfully. "prince," mahommed said at length, "it is not often i put myself at another's bidding, for freedom to go where one pleases is not more to a common man than is freedom to do what pleases him to a sovereign; yet so will i with you in this matter; and as is the custom of moslems setting out on a voyage i say of our venture, 'in the name of god be its courses and its moorings.' that settled, hearken further. what you have given me is not all comprehensible. as i understand you, i am to find the surpassing glory in a field of war. tell me, lies the field far or near? where is it? and who is he i am to challenge? there will be room and occasion for combat around me everywhere, or, if the occasion exist not, my spahis in a day's ride can make one. there is nothing stranger than how small a cause suffices us to set man against man, life or death. but--and now i come to the very difficulty--looking here and there i cannot see a war new in any respect, either of parties, or objects, or pretence, out of which such a prodigious fame is to be plucked. you discern the darkness in which i am groping. light, o prince--give me light!" for an instant the mind of the jew, sown with subtlety as a mine with fine ore, was stirred with admiration of the quality so strikingly manifested in this demand; but collecting himself, he said, calmly, for the question had been foreseen: "my lord was pleased to say a short while ago that the emir mirza, on his return from the hajj, told him of me. did mirza tell also of my forbidding him to say anything of the predictions i then intrusted him?" "yes," mahommed answered, smiling, "and i have loved him for the disobedience. he satisfied me to whom he thought his duty was first owing." "well, if evil ensue from the disclosure, it may be justly charged to my indiscretion. let it pass--only, in reporting me, did not mirza say, lord mahommed, that the prohibition i laid upon him proceeded from a prudent regard for your interests?" "yes." "and in speaking of the change in the status of the world i then announced, and of the refluent wave the east was to pour upon the west"-- "and of the doom of constantinople!" mahommed cried, in a sudden transport of excitement. "ay, and of the hero thou wert to be, my lord! said he nothing of the other caution i gave him, how absolute verity could only be had by a recast of the horoscope at the city itself? and how i was even then on my way thither?" "truly, o prince. mirza is a marvel!" "thanks, my lord. the assurance prepares me to answer your last demand." then, lowering his voice, the prince returned to his ordinary manner. "the glory you are to look for will not depend upon conditions such as parties to the war, or its immediate cause, or the place of its wagement." mahommed listened with open mouth. "my lord knows of the dispute long in progress between the pope of rome and the patriarch of constantinople; one claiming to be the head of the church of christ, the other insisting on his equality. the dispute, my lord also knows, has been carried from east to west, and back and back again, prelate replying to prelate, until the whole church is falling to pieces, and on every christian tongue the 'church east' and the 'church west' are common as morning salutations." mahommed nodded. "now, my lord," the prince continued, the magnetic eyes intensely bright, "you and i know the capital of christianity is yonder "--he pointed toward constantinople--"and that conquering it is taking from christ and giving to mahomet. what more of definition of thy glory wilt thou require? thus early i salute thee a sword of god." mahommed sprang from his couch, and strode the floor, frequently clapping his hands. upon the passing of the ecstasy, he stopped in front of the prince. "i see it now--the feat of arms impossible to my father reserved for me." again he walked, clapping his hands. "i pray your pardon," he said, when the fit was over. "in my great joy i interrupted you." "i regret to try my lord's patience further," the prince answered, with admirable diplomacy. "it were better, however, to take another step in the explanation now. a few months after separating from mirza in mecca, i arrived in constantinople, and every night since, the heavens being clear, i have questioned the stars early and late. i cannot repeat to my lord all the inquiries i made of them, so many were they, and so varied in form, nor the bases i laid hold of for horoscopes, each having, as i hoped, to do with the date of the founding of the city. what calculations i have made--tables of figures to cover the sky with a tapestry of algebraic and geometrical symbols: the walks of astrology are well known--i mean those legitimate--nevertheless in my great anxiety, i have even ventured into the arcana of magic forbidden to the faithful. the seven good angels, and the seven bad, beginning with jubanladace, first of the good, a celestial messenger, helmeted, sworded with flame, and otherwise beautiful to behold, and ending with barman, the lowest of the bad, the consort and ally of witches--i besought them all for what they could tell me. is the time of the running of the city now, to-morrow, next week--when? such the burden of my inquiry. as yet, my lord, no answer has been given. i am merely bid keep watch on the schism of the church. in some way the end we hope has connection with that rancor, if, indeed, it be not the grand result. with clear discernment of the tendencies, the roman pontiff is striving to lay the quarrel; but he speaks to a rising tide. we cannot hasten the event; neither can he delay it. our role is patience--patience. at last europe will fall away, and leave the greek to care of himself; then, my lord, you have but to be ready. the end is in the throes of its beginning now." "still you leave me in the dark," mahommed cried, with a frown. "nay, my lord, there is a chance for us to make the stars speak." the beguiler appeared to hesitate. "a chance?" mahommed asked. "it is dependent, my lord." "upon what?" "the life of the sultan, thy father." "speak not in riddles, o prince." "upon his death, thou wilt enter on the sovereignty." "still i see not clearly." "with the horoscope of mahommed the sultan in my hand, then certainly as the stars perform their circuits, being set thereunto from the first morning, they must respond to me; and then, find i mars in the ascendant, well dignified essentially and accidentally, i can lead my lord out of the darkness." "then, prince?" "he may see the christian capital at his mercy." "but if mars be not in the ascendant?" "my lord must wait." mahommed sprang to his feet, gnashing his teeth. "my lord," said the prince, calmly, "a man's destiny is never unalterable; it is like a pitcher filled with wine which he is carrying to his lips--it may be broken on the way, and its contents spilled. such has often happened through impatience and pride. what is waiting but the wise man's hour of preparation?" the quiet manner helped the sound philosophy. mahommed took seat, remarking, "you remind me, prince, of the saying of the koran, 'whatsoever good betideth thee, o man, it is from god, and whatsoever evil betideth, from thyself is it.' i am satisfied. only"-- the prince summoned all his faculties again. "only i see two periods of waiting before me; one from this until i take up the sovereignty; the other thence till thou bringest me the mandate of the stars. i fear not the second period, for, as thou sayest, i can then lose myself in making ready; but the first, the meantime--ah, prince, speak of it. tell me how i can find surcease of the chafing of my spirit." the comprehension of the wily hebrew did not fail him. his heart beat violently. he was master! once more he was in position to change the world. a word though not more than "now," and he could marshal the east, which he so loved, against the west, which he so hated. if constantinople failed him, christianity must yield its seat to islam. he saw it all flash-like; yet at no time in the interview did his face betoken such placidity of feeling. the _meantime_ was his, not mahommed's--his to lengthen or shorten--his for preparation. he could afford to be placid. "there is much for my lord to do," he said. "when, o prince--now?" "it is for him to think and act as if constantinople were his capital temporarily in possession of another." the words caught attention, and it is hard saying what mahommed's countenance betokened. the reader must think of him as of a listener just awakened to a new idea of infinite personal concern. "it is for him now to learn the city within and without," the jew proceeded; "its streets and edifices; its halls and walls; its strong and weak places; its inhabitants, commerce, foreign relations; the character of its ruler, his resources and policies; its daily events; its cliques and clubs, and religious factions; especially is it for him to foment the differences latin and greek." it is questionable if any of the things imparted had been so effective upon mahommed as this one. not only did his last doubt of the man talking disappear; it excited a boundless admiration for him, and the freshest novitiate in human nature knows how almost impossible it is to refuse trust when once we have been brought to admire. "oh!" mahommed cried. "a pastime, a pastime, if i could be there!" "nay, my lord," said the insidious counsellor, with a smile, "how do kings manage to be everywhere at the same time?" "they have their ambassadors. but i am not a king." "not yet a king"--the speaker laid stress upon the adverb--"nevertheless public representation is one thing; secret agency another." mahommed's voice sank almost to a whisper. "wilt thou accept this agency?" "it is for me to observe the heavens at night, while calculations will take my days. i trust my lord in his wisdom will excuse me." "where is one for the service? name him, prince--one as good." "there is one better. bethink you, my lord, the business is of a long time; it may run through years." mahommed's brow knit darkly at the reminder. "and he who undertakes it should enter constantinople and live there above suspicion. he must be crafty, intelligent, courtly in manner, accomplished in arms, of high rank, and with means to carry his state bravely, for not only ought he to be conspicuous in the hippodrome; he should be welcome in the palace. along with other facilities, he must be provided to buy service in the emperor's bedroom and council chamber--nay, at his elbow. it is of prime importance that he possesses my lord's confidence unalterably. am i understood?" "the man, prince, the man!" "my lord has already named him." "i?" "only to-night my lord spoke of him as a marvel." "mirza!" exclaimed mahommed, clapping his hands. "mirza," the prince returned, and proceeded without pause: "despatch him to italy; then let him appear in constantinople, embarked from a galley, habited like a roman, and with a suitable italian title. he speaks italian already, is fixed in his religion, and in knightly honor. not all the gifts at the despot's disposal, nor the blandishments of society can shake his allegiance--he worships my lord." "my servant has found much favor with you, o prince?" accepting the remark as a question, the other answered: "did i not spend the night with him at el zaribah? was i not witness of his trial of faith at the holy kaaba? have i not heard from my lord himself how, when put to choice, he ignored my prohibition respecting the stars?" mahommed arose, and again walked to and fro. "there is a trouble in this proposal, prince," he said, halting abruptly. "so has mirza become a part of me, i am scarcely myself without him." another turn across the floor, and he seemed to become reconciled. "let us have done for to-night," he next said. "the game is imperative, but it will not be harmed by a full discussion. stay with me to-morrow, prince." the prince remembered the emperor. not unlikely a message from that high personage was at his house, received in course of the day. "true, very true, and the invitation is a great honor to me," he replied, bowing; "but i am reminded that the gossips in byzantium will feast each other when to-morrow it passes from court to bazaar how the princess irene and the prince of india were driven by the storm to accept hospitality in the white castle. and if it get abroad, that mahommed, son of the great amurath, came also to the castle, who may foretell the suspicions to hatch in the city? no, my lord, i submit it is better for me to depart with the princess at the subsidence of the waters." "be it so," mahommed returned, cordially. "we understand each other. i am to wait and you to communicate with me; and now, morning comes apace, good night." he held his hand to the jew; whereat the latter knelt and kissed the hand, but retained it to say: "my lord, if i know him rightly, will not sleep to-night; thought is an enemy to sleep; and besides the inspiration there is in the destiny promised, its achievement lies all before him. yet i wish to leave behind me one further topic, promising it is as much greater than any other as the heavens are higher than the earth." "rise, prince," said mahommed, helping him to his feet. "such ceremonious salutation whether in reception or at departure may be dispensed with hereafter; thou art not a stranger, but more than a guest. i count thee my friend whom everything shall wait upon--even myself. speak now of what thou callest the greater scheme. i am most curious." there was a silence while one might count ten slowly. the jew in that space concentrated the mysterious force of which he was master in great store, so it shone in his eyes, gave tone to his voice, and was an outgoing of will in overwhelming current. "lord mahommed," he said, "i know you are a believer in god." the young turk was conscious of a strange thrill passing through him from brain to body. "in nature and every quality the god of the jew, the christian, and the moslem is the same. take we their own sayings. christ and mahomet were witnesses sent to testify of him first, highest and alone--him the universal father. yet behold the perversity of man. god has been deposed, and for ages believers in him have been divided amongst themselves; wherefore hate, jealousies, wars, battle and the smoke of slaughter perpetually. but now is he at last minded to be restored. hear, lord mahommed, hear with soul and mortal ear!" the words and manner caught and exalted mahommed's spirit. as michael, with a sweep of his wings, is supposed to pass the nether depths, an impulsion bore the son of amurath up to a higher and clearer plane. he could not but hear. "be it true now that god permits his presence to be known in human affairs only when he has a purpose to justify his interposition; then, as we dare not presume the capital of christendom goes to its fall without his permission, why your designation for the mighty work? that you may be personally glorified, my lord? look higher. see yourself his chosen instrument--and this the deed! from the seat of the caesars, its conquest an argument, he means you to bring men together in his name. titles may remain--jew, moslem, christian, buddhist--but there shall be an end of wars for religion--all mankind are to be brethren in him. this the deed, my lord--unity in god, and from it, a miracle of the ages slow to come but certain, the evolution of peace and goodwill amongst men. i leave the idea with you. good night!" mahommed remained so impressed and confounded that the seer was permitted to walk out as from an empty room. mirza received him outside the door. chapter xv departure from the white castle the storm continued till near daybreak. at sunrise the wind abated, and was rapidly succeeded by a dead calm; about the same time the last cloud disappeared, leaving the sky an azure wonder, and the shores of the bosphorus far and near refreshed and purified. after breakfast, mirza conducted the prince of india to another private audience with mahommed. as the conference had relation to the subjects gone over in the night, the colloquy may be dispensed with, and only the conclusions given. mahommed admitted he had not been able to sleep; in good spirits, however, he agreed, if the prince were accountable for the wakefulness, he was to be forgiven, since he had fairly foretold it, and, like other prophets, was entitled to immunity. the invitation to remain at the castle was renewed, and again declined. mahommed next conceded the expediency of his waiting to hear what further the stars might say with respect to the great business before him, and voluntarily bound himself to passive conduct and silence; in assuagement of the impatience he knew would torment him, he insisted, however, upon establishing a line of couriers between his place of residence, wherever it might be, and the white castle. intelligence could thus be safely transmitted him from constantinople. in furtherance of this object the governor of the castle would be instructed to honor the requests of the prince of india. mahommed condescended next to approve the suggestion of a secret agency in constantinople. respecting a person for the service, the delicacy of which was conceded, he had reached the conclusion that there was no one subject to his control so fitted in every respect as mirza. the selection of the emir might prove troublesome since he was a favorite with the sultan; if investigations consequent on his continued absence were instituted, there was danger of their resulting in disagreeable exposure; nevertheless the venture was worth the while, and as time was important, the emir should be sent off forthwith under instructions in harmony with the prince's advice. or more clearly, he was to betake himself to italy immediately, and thence to the greek capital, a nobleman amply provided with funds for his maintenance there in essential state and condition. his first duty when in the city should be to devise communication with the white castle, where connection with the proposed line of couriers should be made for safe transmission of his own reports, and such intelligence as the prince should from time to time consider it advisable to forward. this of course contemplated recognition and concert between the emir and the prince. in token of his confidence in the latter, mahommed would constitute him the superior in cases of difference of opinion; though from his knowledge of mirza's romantic affection acquired in mecca and on the road thither, he had little apprehension of such a difference. mahommed and the prince were alike well satisfied with the conclusions between them, and their leave-taking at the end of the audience was marked with a degree of affection approaching that of father and son. about mid-afternoon the prince and sergius sallied from the castle to observe the water, and finding it quiet, they determined to embark. the formalities of reception in the castle were not less rigidly observed at the departure. in care of the eunuch the princess and lael descended to the hall of entrance where they were received by the supposed governor, who was in armor thoroughly cleansed of dust and skilfully furbished. his manner was even more gallant and dignified. he offered his hand to assist the princess to seat in the chair, and upon taking it she glanced furtively at his face, but the light was too scant for a distinct view. in the castle and out there were no spectators. passing the gate, the princess bethought her of the story-teller, and looked for him well as she could through the narrow windows. at the landing, when the governor had in silence, though with ease and grace, helped her from the carriage, the porters being withdrawn, she proceeded to acknowledgments. "i am sorry," she said, through her veil, "that i must depart without knowing the name or rank of my host." "had i greater rank. o princess," he returned, gravely. "i should have pleasure in introducing myself; for then there would be a hope that my name supported by a title of dignity, would not be erased from your memory by the gayeties of the city to which you are going. the white castle is a command suitable to one of humble grade, and to be saluted governor, because i am charged with its keeping, satisfies my pride for the present. it is a convenient title, moreover, should you ever again honor me with a thought or a word." "i submit perforce," she said. "yet, sir governor, your name would have saved me from the wonder of my kinsman, if not his open question, when, as i am bound to, i tell him of the fair treatment and high courtesy you have shown me and my friends here while in refuge in your castle walls. he knows it natural for the recipient of bounty to learn who the giver is, with name and history; but how amazed and displeased he will be when i barely describe your entertainment. indeed, i fear he will think me guilty of over description or condemn me for ingratitude." she saw the blood color his face, and noticed the air of sincerity with which he replied. "princess, if payment for what you have received at my hands were worthy a thought, i should say now, and all my days through, down to the very latest, that to have heard you speak so graciously is an overprice out of computation." the veil hid her responsive blush; for there was something in his voice and manner, possibly the earnestness marking them, which lifted the words out of the commonplace and formal. she could not but see how much more he left implied than actually expressed. for relief, she turned to another subject. "if i may allude to a part of your generous attention, sir governor, distinguishing it from the whole, i should like to admit the pleasure had from the recitation of the arabian story-teller. i will not ask his name; still it must be a great happiness to traverse the world with welcome everywhere, and everywhere and all the time accompanied and inspired by a mind stored with themes and examples beautiful as the history of el hatim." a light singularly bright shone in the governor's eyes, significant of a happy idea, and with more haste than he had yet evinced, he replied: "o princess, the name of the arab is aboo-obeidah; in the desert they call him the singing sheik, and among moslems, city bred and tent born alike, he is great and beloved. such is his sanctity that all doors he knocks at open to him, even those of harems zealously guarded. when he arrives at adrianople, in his first day there he will be conducted to the hanoum of the sultan, and at her signal the ladies of the household will flock to hear him. now, would it please you, i will prevail on him to delay his journey that he may visit you at your palace." "the adventure might distress him," she replied. "say not so. in such a matter i dare represent and pledge him. only give me where you would have him come, and the time, o princess, and he will be there, not a star in the sky more constant." "with my promise of good welcome to him then," she said, well pleased, "be my messenger, sir governor, and say in the morning day after to-morrow at my palace by therapia. and now thanks again, and farewell." so saying she held her hand to him, and he kissed it, and assisted her into the boat. the adieux of the others, the prince of india, sergius and lael, were briefer. the governor was polite to each of them; at the same time, his eyes, refusing restraint, wandered to where the princess sat looking at him with unveiled face. in the mouth of the river the boats were brought together, and, while drifting, she expressed the pleasure she had from the fortunate meeting with the prince; his presence, she doubted not, contributed greatly to the good conclusion of what in its beginning seemed so unpromising. "nor can i convey an idea of the confidence and comfortable feeling i derived from the society of thy daughter," she added, speaking to the prince, but looking at lael. "she was courageous and sensible, and i cannot content myself until she is my guest at therapia." "i would be greatly pleased," lael said, modestly. "will the princess appoint a time?" the wanderer asked. "to-morrow--or next week--at your convenience. these warm months are delightful in the country by the water side. at therapia, prince--thou and thine. the blessing of the saints go with you--farewell." then though the boats kept on down toward constantinople, they separated, and in good time the prince of india and lael were at home; while the princess carried sergius to her palace in the city. next day, having provided him with the habit approved by metropolitan greek priests, she accompanied him to the patriarchal residence, introduced him with expressions of interest, and left him in the holy keeping. sergius was accepted and rated a neophyte, the vanity of the byzantine clergy scorning thought of excellence in a russian provincial. he entered upon the life, however, with humility and zeal, governed by a friendly caution from the princess. "remember," she said to him, as they paused on the patriarchal doorsteps for permission to enter, "remember father hilarion is regarded here as a heretic. the stake, imprisonment in darkness for life, the lions in the cynegion, punishment in some form of approved cruelty awaits a follower of his by open avowal. patience then; and when endurance is tried most, and you feel it must break, come to me at therapia. only hold yourself in readiness, by reading and thought, to speak for our christian faith unsullied by human inventions, and bide my signal." and so did he observe everything and venture nothing that presently he was on the road to high favor. chapter xvi an embassy to the princess irene when the princess irene returned to therapia next day, she found awaiting her the dean of the court, an official of great importance to whom the settlement of questions pertinent to rank was confided. the state barge of fifteen oars in which he arrived was moored to the marbles of the quay in front of her palace, a handsomely ornamented vessel scarcely needing its richly liveried rowers to draw about it the curious and idle of the town in staring groups. at sight of it, the princess knew there was a message for her from the emperor. she lost no time in notifying the dean of her readiness to receive him. the interview took place in the reception room. the dean was a venerable man who, having served acceptably through the preceding reign, was immensely discreet, and thoroughly indurate with formalism and ceremony; wherefore, passing his speech and manner, it is better worth the while to give, briefly as may be, the substance of the communication he brought to the princess. he was sure she remembered all the circumstances of the coronation of his majesty, the emperor, and of his majesty's entry into constantinople; he was not so certain, however, of her information touching some matters distinguishable as domestic rather than administrative. or she might know of them, but not reliably. thus she might not have heard authentically that, immediately upon his becoming settled in the imperial seat, his majesty decided it of first importance to proceed to the selection of a spouse. the dean then expatiated on the difficulty of finding in all the world a woman suitable for the incomparable honor. so many points entered into the consideration--age, appearance, rank, education, religion, dowry, politics--upon each of which he dwelt with the gravity of a philosopher, the assurance of a favorite, and the garrulity of age. having at length presented the problem, and, he thought, sufficiently impressed the princess with its unexampled intricacies and perils, he next unfolded the several things resolved upon and attempted in the way of solution. every royal house in the west had been searched for its marriageable females. at one time a daughter of the doge of venice was nearly chosen. unfortunately there were influential greeks of greater pride than judgment to object to the doge. he was merely an elective chief. he might die the very day after celebrating the espousals, and then--not even the ducal robes were inheritable. no, the flower to deck the byzantine throne was not in the west. thereupon the east was explored. for a time the election trembled between a princess of trebizond and a princess of georgia. as usual the court divided on the question, when, to quiet the factions, his majesty ordered phranza, the grand chamberlain, a courtier of learning and diplomatic experience, who held the emperor's confidence in greater degree than any other court official, unless it might be the dean himself, to go see the rivals personally, and report with recommendation. the ambassador had been gone two years. from georgia he had travelled to trebizond; still nothing definite. the embassy, having been outfitted in a style to adequately impress the semi-barbarians, was proving vastly expensive. his majesty, with characteristic wisdom, had determined to take the business in his own keeping. there were many noble families in constantinople. why not seek a consort among them? the scheme had advantages; not least, if a byzantine could be found, the emperor would have the happiness of making the discovery and conducting the negotiations himself--in common parlance, of doing his own courting. there might be persons, the dean facetiously remarked, who preferred trusting the great affair of wife-choosing to ambassadors, but he had never seen one of them. the ground covered by the ancient in his statement is poorly represented by these paragraphs, ample as they may seem to the reader. indeed, the sun was falling swiftly into the lap of night when he thought of concluding. meantime the princess listened silently, her patience sustained by wonder at what it all meant. the enlightenment at last came. "now, my dear princess," he said, lowering his voice, "you must know "--he arose, and, as became one so endued with palace habits, peered cautiously around. "be seated, my lord," she said; "there are no eyes in my doors nor ears in my walls." "oh, the matter is of importance--a state secret!" he drew the stool nearer her. "you must know, dear princess, that the grand chamberlain, phranza, has been negligent and remiss in the time he has consumed, saying nothing of his lavishment of treasure so badly needed at home. notaras, the admiral, and the grand domestic, are both pursuing his majesty vigorously for funds and supplies; worse still, the patriarch lets slip no opportunity to bid him look at the furniture of the churches going to ruin. the imperial conscience being tender in whatever pertains to god and religion, he has little peace left for prayers. wherefore, there are of us who think it would be loyalty to help secure a bride for his majesty at home, and thus make an end to the wasteful and inconclusive touring of phranza." the dean drew yet nearer the princess, and reduced his voice to a tone slightly above a whisper. "now you must know further--i am the author and suggestor of the idea of his majesty's choosing an empress from the many noble and beautiful dames and maidens of this our ancient city of byzantium, in every respect the equals, and in many points mentionable the superiors of the best foreigner possible of finding." the dean pursed his white-bearded mouth, and posed himself proudly; but his auditor still holding her peace, he leaned forward further, and whispered, "my dear princess, i did more. i mentioned you to his majesty"-- the princess started to her feet, whiter than whitest marble in the pentelic panelling of the room; yet in total misapprehension of her feeling, the venerable intriguant went on without pause: "yes, i mentioned you to his majesty, and to-morrow, princess--to-morrow--he will come here in person to see you, and urge his suit." he dropped on his knees, and catching her hand, kissed it. "o princess, fairest and most worthy, suffer me first of all the court to congratulate you on the superlative honor to which you will he invited. and when you are in the exalted position, may i hope to be remembered"-- he was not permitted to finish the petition. withdrawing her hand with decisive action, she bade him be silent or speak to her questions. and he was silent through surprise. in such manner she gained an interval for thought. the predicament, as she saw it, was troublesome and unfortunate. honor was intended her, the highest in the imperial gift, and the offer was coming with never a doubt of its instantaneous and grateful acceptance. remembering her obligations to the emperor, her eyes filled with tears. she respected and venerated him, yet could not be his empress. the great title was not a sufficient inducement. but how manage the rejection? she called on the virgin for help. directly there was a way exposed. first, she must save her benefactor from rejection; second, the dean and the court must never know of the course of the affair or its conclusion. "rise, my lord," she said, kindly though with firmness. "the receiver of great news, i thank you, and promise, if ever i attain the throne to hold you in recollection. but now, so am i overwhelmed by the prospect, i am not myself. indeed, my lord, would you increase my indebtedness to its utmost limit, take every acknowledgment as said, and leave me--leave me for preparation for the morrow's event. god, his son and angels only know the awfulness of my need of right direction and good judgment." he had the wit to see her agitation, and that it was wisest for him to depart. "i will go, princess," he said, "and may the holy mother give you of her wisdom also." she detained him at the door to ask: "only tell me, my lord, did his majesty send you with this notice?" "his majesty honored me with the message." "at what hour will he come?" "in the forenoon." "report, i pray you then, that my house will be at his service." chapter xvii the emperor's wooing about ten o'clock the day following the extraordinary announcement given, a galley of three banks of oars, classed a _trireme_, rounded the seaward jut of the promontory overhanging the property of the princess irene at therapia. the hull of the vessel was highly ornate with gilding and carving. at the how, for figure-head, there was an image of the madonna of the _panagia_, or holy banner of constantinople. the broad square sail was of cherry-red color, and in excellent correspondence, the oars, sixty to a side, were painted a flaming scarlet. when filled, the sail displayed a greek cross in golden filament. the deck aft was covered with a purple awning, in the shade of which, around a throne, sat a grave and decorous company in gorgeous garments; and among them moved a number of boys, white-shirted and bare of head, dispensing perfume from swinging censers. forward, a body guard, chosen from the household troops and full armed, were standing at ease, and they, with a corps of trumpeters and heralds in such splendor of golden horns and tabards of gold as to pour enrichment over the whole ship, filled the space from bulwark to bulwark. the emperor occupied the throne. this galley, to which the harmonious movement of the oars gave a semblance of life, in the distance reminding one of a great bird fantastically feathered and in slow majestic motion, was no sooner hove in sight than the townspeople were thrown into ferment. a flotilla of small boats, hastily launched, put out in racing order to meet and escort it into the bay, and before anchorage was found, the whole shore was astir and in excited babblement. a detachment of the guard was first landed on the quay in front of the princess' gate. accepting the indication, thither rushed the populace; for in truth, since the occupation of the asiatic shore of the bosphorus by the turks, the emperor seldom extended his voyages far as therapia. then, descending the sides by carpeted stairs, the suite disembarked, and after them, amidst a tremendous flourish from the trumpet corps, constantine followed. the emperor, in his light boat, remained standing during the passage to the shore that he might be seen by the people; and as he then appeared, helmed and in close-fitting cuirass, his arms in puffed sleeves of red silk, his legs, below a heavily embroidered narrow skirt, clothed in pliant chain mail intricately linked, his feet steel-shod, a purple cloak hanging lightly at the back from neck to heel, and spurred and magnificently sworded, and all agleam with jewels and gold, it must be conceded he justified his entitlement. at sight of his noble countenance, visible under the raised visor, the spectators lifted their voices in hearty acclamations--"god and constantine! live the emperor!" it really seemed as if the deadly factiousness of the capital had not reached therapia. in the lifted head, the brightened eyes, the gracious though stately bows cast right and left, constantine published the pleasure the reception was giving him. a long flourish timed his march through the kiosk of the gate, and along the shell-strewn, winding road, to the broad steps leading to the portico of the palace; there, ascending first, he was received by the princess. amid a group of maids in attendance, all young, fair, high-born, she stood, never more tastefully attired, never more graceful and self-possessed, never more lovely, not even in childhood before the flitting of its virginal bloom; and though the portico was garden-like in decoration, vines, roses and flowering shrubs everywhere, the sovereign had eyes for her alone. just within the line of fluted pillars he halted, and drew himself up, smiling as became a suitor, yet majestic as became a king. then she stepped forward, and knelt, and kissed his hand, and when he helped her to her feet, and before the flush on her forehead was gone, she said: "thou art my sovereign and benefactor; nor less for the goodnesses thou hast done to thy people, and art constantly doing, welcome, o my lord, to the house thou didst give me." "speak not so," he replied. "or if it please thee to give me credit, be it for the things which in some way tried me, not those i did for reward." "reward!" "ay, for such are pleasure and peace of mind." then one by one, she naming them as they advanced, her attendants knelt, and kissed the floor in front of him, and had each a pleasant word, for he permitted none to excel him in decorous gallantry to good women. in return, he called the officers of his company according to their rank; his brother, who had afterward the grace to die with him; the grand domestic, general of the army; the grand duke notaras, admiral of the navy; the grand equerry (_protostrator_); the grand chancellor of the empire (_logothete_); the superintendent of finance; the governor of the palace (_curopalate_); the keeper of the purple ink; the keeper of the secret seal; the first valet; the chief of the night guard (_grand drumgaire_); the chief of the huntsmen (_protocynege_); the commander of the body guard of foreigners (_acolyte_); the professor of philosophy; the professor of elocution and rhetoric; the attorney general (_nornophylex_); the chief falconer (_protojeracaire_) and others--these he called one by one, and formally presented to the princess, not minding that with many of them she was already acquainted. they were for the most part men advanced in years, and right well skilled in the arts of courtiership. the _empressement_ of manner with which they saluted her was not lost upon her woman's instinct; infinitely quick and receptive, she knew without a word spoken, that each left his salute on her hand believing it the hand of his future empress. last of those presented was the dean of the court. he was noticeably formal and distant; besides being under the eye of his master, the wily diplomat was more doubtful of the outcome of the day's visit than most of his colleagues. "now," the princess said, when the presentation was finished, "will my most noble sovereign suffer me to conduct him to the reception room?" the emperor stepped to her side, and offered his hand. "pardon, sire," she added, taking the hand. "it is necessary that i speak to the dean." and when the worthy came to her, she said to him: "beyond this, under the portico, are refreshments for his majesty's suite. serve me, i pray, by leading thy colleagues thither, and representing me at the tables. command the servants whom thou wilt find there." now the reader must not suppose he is having in the foregoing descriptions examples of the style of ceremonials most in fashion at the greek court. had formality been intended, the affair would have been the subject of painstaking consideration at a meeting of officials in the imperial residence, and every point within foresight arranged; after which the revolution of the earth might have quickened, and darkness been unnaturally precipitated, without inducing the slightest deviation from the programme. when resolving upon the visit, constantine considerately thought of the princess' abhorrence of formality, and not to surprise her, despatched the dean with notice of the honor intended. whereupon she arranged the reception to suit herself; that is, so as to remain directress of the occasion. hence the tables under the portico for the entertainment of the great lords, with the garden open to them afterward. this management, it will be perceived, left constantine in her separate charge. so, while the other guests went with the dean, she conducted the emperor to the reception room, where there were no flowers, and but one armless chair. when he was seated, the two alone, she knelt before him, and without giving him time to speak, said, her hands crossed upon her bosom: "i thank my lord for sending me notice of his coming, and of his purpose to invite me to share his throne. all night i have kept the honor he intended me in mind, believing the blessed mother would listen to my prayers for wisdom and right direction; and the peace and confidence i feel, now that i am at my lord's feet, must be from her.... oh, my lord, the trial has not been what i should do with the honor, but how to defend you from humiliation in the eyes of your court. i wish to be at the same time womanly and allegiant. how gentle and merciful you have been to me! how like a benignant god to my poor father! if i am in error, may heaven forgive me; but i have led you here to say, without waiting for the formal proposal, that while you have my love as a kinswoman and subject, i cannot give you the love you should have from a wife." constantine was astonished. "what!" he said. before he could get further, she continued, sinking lower at his feet: "ah me, my lord, if now thou art thinking me bold and forward, and outcast from natural pride, what can i but plead the greater love i bear you as my benefactor and sovereign? ... it may be immodest to thus forestall my lord's honorable intent, and decline being his wife before he has himself proposed it; yet i pray him to consider that with this avowal from me, he may go hence and affirm, god approving the truth, that he thought better of his design, and did not make me any overture of marriage, and there will be no one to suffer but me.... the evil-minded will talk, and judge me punished for my presumption. against them i shall always have a pure conscience, and the knowledge of having rescued my lord from an associate on his throne who does not love him with wifely devotion." pausing there, the princess looked into his face, her own suffused. his head drooped; insomuch that the tall helmet with its glitter, and the cuirass, and fine mail reenforced by the golden spurs and jewelled sword and sword-harness, but deepened the impression of pain bewrayed on his countenance. "then it is as i have heard," he said, dejectedly. "the rustic hind may have the mate of his choice, and there is preference allowed the bird and wild wolf. the eye of faith beholds marriages of love in meeting waters and in clouds brought together from diverse parts. only kings are forbidden to select mates as their hearts declare. i, a master of life and death, cannot woo, like other men." the princess moved nearer him. "my lord," she said, earnestly, "is it not better to be denied choice than to be denied after choosing?" "speakest thou from experience?" he asked. "no," she answered, "i have never known love except of all god's creatures alike." "whence thy wisdom then?" "perhaps it is only a whisper of pride." "perhaps, perhaps! i only know the pain it was intended to relieve goes on." then, regarding her moodily, not angrily, nor even impatiently, he continued: "did i not know thee true as thou art fair, o princess, and good and sincere as thou art brave, i might suspect thee." "of what, my lord?" "of an intent to compass my misery. thou dost stop my mouth. i may not declare the purpose with which i came--i to whom it was of most interest--or if i do, i am forestopped saying, 'i thought better of it, and told her nothing.' yet it was an honorable purpose nursed by sweet dreams, and by hopes such as souls feed upon, strengthening themselves for trials of life; i must carry it back with me, not for burial in my own breast, but for gossips to rend and tear, and make laughter of--the wonder and amusement of an unfeeling city. how many modes of punishment god keeps in store for the chastening of those who love him!" "it is beggarly saying i sympathize"-- "no, no--wait!" he cried, passionately. "now it breaks upon me. i may not offer thee a seat on my throne, or give a hand to help thee up to it; for the present i will not declare i love thee; yet harm cannot come of telling thee what has been. thou hadst my love at our first meeting. i loved thee then. as a man i loved thee, nor less as an emperor because a man. thou wast lovely with the loveliness of the angels. i saw thee in a light not of earth, and thou wert transparent as the light. i descended from the throne to thee thinking thou hadst collected all the radiance of the sun wasting in the void between stars, and clothed thyself in it." "oh, my lord"-- "not yet, not yet"-- "blasphemy and madness!" "be it so!" he answered, with greater intensity. "this once i speak as a lover who was--a lover making last memories of the holy passion, to be henceforth accounted dead. dead? ah, yes!--to me--dead to me!" she timidly took the hand he dropped upon his knee at the close of a long sigh. "it may rest my lord to hear me," she said, tearfully. "i never doubted his fitness to be emperor, or if ever i had such a doubt, it is no more. he has conquered himself! indeed, indeed, it is sweet to hear him tell his love, for i am woman; and if i cannot give it back measure for measure, this much may be accepted by him--i have never loved a man, and if the future holds such a condition in store for me, i will think of my lord, and his strength and triumph, and in my humbler lot do as he has so nobly done. he has his empire to engage him, and fill his hours with duties; i have god to serve and obey with singleness. out of the prison where my mother died, and in which my father grew old counting his years as they slowly wore away, a shadow issued, and is always at hand to ask me, 'who art thou? what right hast thou to happiness?' and if ever i fall into the thought so pleasant to woman, of loving and being loved, and of marriage, the shadow intervenes, and abides with me until i behold myself again bounden to religion, a servant vowed to my fellow creatures sick, suffering, or in sorrow." then the gentle emperor fell to pitying her, and asked, forgetful of himself, and thinking of things to lighten her lot, "wilt thou never marry?" "i will not say no, my lord," she answered. "who can foresee the turns of life? take thou this in reply--never will i surrender myself to wedlock under urgency of love alone. but comes there some great emergency, when, by such sacrifice, i may save my country, or my countrymen in multitude, or restore our holy religion overthrown or in danger, then, for the direct god-service there may be in it, i could give myself in contract, and would." "without love?" he asked. "yes, without loving or being loved. this body is not mine, but god's, and he may demand it of me for the good of my fellow-men; and, so there be no tarnishment of the spirit, my lord, why haggle about the husk in which the spirit is hidden?" she spoke with enthusiasm. doubt of her sincerity would have been blasphemous. that such fate should be for her, so bright, pure and heroic! not while he had authority! and in the instant he vowed himself to care of her by resolution strong as an oath. in thought of the uncertainties lowering over his own future, he saw it was better she should remain vowed to heaven than to himself; thereupon he arose, and standing at her side, laid a hand lightly upon her head, and said solemnly: "thou hast chosen wisely. may the blessed mother, and all the ministering angels, in most holy company, keep guard lest thou be overtaken by calamity, sorrow and disappointment. and, for me, o irene!"--his voice shook with emotion--"i shall be content if now thou wilt accept me for thy father." she raised her eyes, as to heaven, and said, smiling: "dear god! how thou dost multiply goodnesses, and shower them upon me!" he stooped, and kissed her forehead. "amen, sweet daughter!" then he helped her to her feet. "now, while thou wert speaking, irene, it was given me to see how the betrothal i was determined upon would have been a crime aside from wresting thee from the service of thy choice. phranza is a true and faithful servant. how know i but, within his powers, and as he lawfully might, he has contracted me by treaty to acceptance of the georgian? thou hast saved me, and my ancient chamberlain. those under the portico are conspirators. but come, let us join them." chapter xviii the singing sheik it was about ten o'clock when the emperor and princess irene appeared on the portico, and, moving toward the northern side, wended slowly through the labyrinth of flowers, palms, and shrubs. the courtiers and dignitaries, upon their approach, received them in respectful silence, standing in groups about the tables. a chair, with arms, high back, and a canopy, looking not unlike a sedilium, had been set in an open space. the reservation was further marked by a table in front of the chair, and two broad-branched palm trees, one on each side. thither the princess conducted the sovereign; and when he was seated, at a signal from her, some chosen attendants came bearing refreshments, cold meats, bread, fruits, and wines in crystal flagons, which they placed on the table, and retiring a little way, remained in waiting, while their mistress, on a stool at the left of the board, did the honors. the introduction of a queen into a palace is usually the signal for a change of the existing domestic regime. old placeholders go out; new favorites come in; and not seldom the revolution reaches the highest official circles of the government. the veterans of the suite, to some of whom this bit of knowledge had come severely home, were very watchful of the two superior personages. had his majesty really exposed his intent to the princess? had he declared himself to her? had she accepted? the effect was to trebly sharpen the eyes past which the two were required to go on their way to the reserved table. mention has been made of phranza, the grand chamberlain, at the moment absent on a diplomatic search for an imperial consort. of all attaches of the court, he was first in his master's regard; and the distinction, it is but just to say, was due to his higher qualities and superior character. the term _favorite_, as a definition of relationship between a despot and a dependent, is historically cloudy; wherefore it is in this instance of unfair application. intimate or confidante is much more exactly descriptive. but be that as it may, the good understanding between the emperor and his grand chamberlain was amply sufficient to provoke the jealousy of many of the latter's colleagues, of whom duke notaras, grand admiral, and the most powerful noble of the empire, was head and front. the scheme for the elevation of the princess to the throne originated with him, and was aimed malevolently at phranza, of whom he was envious, and constantine, whom he hated on religious grounds. interest in the plot brought him to therapia; yet he held himself aloof, preferring the attitude of a spectator coldly polite to that of an active partisan in the affair. he declined sitting at a table, but took position between two of the columns whence the view of the bay was best. there were numbers of the suite, however, who discredited the motive with which he chose the place. "see notaras," said one of a group, whispering to friends drinking wine a little way off. "the scene before him is charming, but is he charmed with it as he appears?" "there was an old demi-god with an eye in his forehead. notaras' best orb just now is in the back of his head. he may be looking at the bay; he is really watching the portico"--such was the reply. "out! he cares nothing for us." "very true--we are not the emperor." "my lord duke is not happy to-day," was remarked in another coterie. "wait, my dear friend. the day is young." "if this match should not be made after all"-- "he will know it first." "yes, nothing from the lovers, neither smile nor sigh, can escape him." the professor of philosophy and his brother the professor of rhetoric ate and drank together, illustrating the affinity of learning. "our phranza is in danger," said the latter, nervously. "as thou art a subscriber to the doctrine of the _phaedon_, i wish we could disembody our souls, if only for an hour." "oh, a singular wish! what wouldst thou?" "tell it not; but"--the voice dropped into a whisper--"i would despatch mine in search of the wise chamberlain to warn him of what is here in practice." "ah, my brother, thou didst me the honor to read and approve my treatise on the philosophy of conspiracy. dost thou remember the confounding elements given in the thesis?" "yes--goodness is one." "under condition; that is, when the result is dependent upon a party of virtuous disposition." "i remember now." "well, we have the condition here." "the princess!" "and therefore the duke, not our phranza, is in danger. she will discomfit him." "may heaven dispose so!" and the rhetorician almost immediately added, "observe thou. notaras has established himself within easy hearing of the two. he has actually invaded the space reserved for them." "as if to confirm my forecast!" then the philosopher raised a cup. "to phranza!" "to phranza!" the rhetorician responded. this episode hardly concluded when the emperor's brother sauntered to the duke's side; and on the appearance of the emperor and the princess, he exclaimed, enthusiastically: "come of it what may, my lord, the damsel is comely, and i fear not to compare her with the best of trebizond or georgia." the duke did not answer. indeed, the lords were all intent upon exactly the same subject. whether there had been an overture and an acceptance, or an overture and a declination, they believed the principals could not conceal the result; a look, a gesture, or something in the manner of one or both of them, would tell the tale to eyes of such practical discernment. by the greater number the information would be treated as news for discussion merely; a few had hopes or fears at stake; none of them was so perilously involved as notaras; in his view, failure meant the promotion of phranza, of all consequences, not excepting his own loss of favor and prestige, the most intolerable. on the other part, constantine was not less concerned in misleading his court. at the proper time he would give out that he had changed his mind at the last moment; before engaging himself to the princess, he had concluded it best to wait and hear from phranza. accordingly, in passing along the portico, he endeavored to look and behave like a guest; he conversed in an ordinary tone; he suffered his hostess to precede him; and, well seconded by her, he was installed in the state chair, without an argument yes or no for the sharp reviewers. at the table he appeared chiefly solicitous to appease an unusual hunger, which he charged to the early morning air on the bosphorus. notaras, whom nothing of incident, demeanor or remark escaped, began very early to be apprehensive. upon beholding his master's unlover-like concession to appetite, he remarked sullenly, "verily, either his courage failed, and he did not submit a proposal, or she has rejected him." "my lord duke," the emperor's brother replied, somewhat stung, "dost thou believe it in woman to refuse such an honor?" "sir," the duke retorted, "women who go about unveiled are above or below judgment." the princess, in her place at the table, began there to recount her adventure at the white castle, but when far enough in the recital to indicate its course the emperor interrupted her. "stay, daughter," he said, gently. "the incident may prove of international interest. if not objectionable to you, i should be pleased to have some of my friends hear it." then raising his voice, he called out: "notaras, and thou, my brother, come, stand here. our fair hostess had yesterday an astonishing experience with the turks on the other shore, and i have prevailed on her to narrate it." the two responded to the invitation by drawing nearer the emperor at his right hand. "proceed now, daughter," the latter said. "daughter, daughter, indeed!" the duke repeated to himself, and so bitterly it may be doubted if his master's diplomacy availed to put him at rest. the paternalism of the address was decisive--phranza had won. then, presently overcoming her confusion, the princess succeeded in giving a simple but clear account of how she was driven to the castle, and of what befell her while there. when she finished, the entire suite were standing about the table listening. twice she had been interrupted by the emperor. "a moment!" he said to her, while she was speaking of the turkish soldiery whose arrival at the ancient stronghold had been so nearly simultaneous with her own. then he addressed himself to the grand domestic and the admiral. "my lords, in passing the castle, on our way up, you remember i bade the pilot take our ship near the shore there. it seemed to me the garrison was showing unusually large, while the flags on the donjon were strange, and the tents and horses around the walls implied an army present. you remember?" "and we have now, sire, the justification of your superior wisdom," the grand domestic replied, rising from a low salutation. "i recall the circumstance, my lords, to enjoin you not to suffer the affair to slip attention when next we meet in council--i pray pardon, daughter, for breaking the thread of your most interesting and important narrative. i am prepared to listen further." then, after description of the governor, and his reception of the fugitives on the landing, his majesty, with apologies, asked permission to offer another inquiry. "of a truth, daughter, the picture thou hast given us under the title of governor beareth no likeness to him who hath heretofore responded to that dignity. at various times i have had occasion to despatch messengers to the commandant, and returning, they have reported him a coarse, unrefined, brutish-looking person, of middle age and low rank; and much i marvel to hear the freedom with which this person doth pledge my august friend and ally, sultan amurath. my lords, this will furnish us an additional point of investigation. obviously the castle is of military importance, requiring an old head full of experience to keep it regardful of peace and clear understanding between the powers plying the bosphorus. we are always to be apprehensive of the fire there is in young blood." "with humility, your majesty," said the grand domestic, "i should like to hear from the princess, whose loveliness is now not more remarkable than her courage and discretion, the evidence she has for the opinion that the young man is really the governor." she was about to reply when lysander, the old servant, elbowed himself through the brilliant circle, and dropped his javelin noisily by her chair. "a stranger calling himself an arab is at the gate," he said to her, with the semblance of a salutation. the simplicity of the ancient, his zeal in the performance of his office, his obliviousness to the imperial presence, caused a ripple of amusement. "an arab!" the princess exclaimed, in momentary forgetfulness. "how does the man appear?" lysander was in turn distraught; after a short delay, however, he managed to answer: "his face is dark, almost black; his head is covered with a great cloth of silk and gold; a gown hides him from neck to heels; in his girdle there is a dagger. he has a lordly air, and does not seem in the least afraid. in brief, my mistress, he looks as if he might be king of all the camel drivers in the world." the description was unexpectedly graphic; even the emperor smiled, while many of the train, presuming license from his amusement, laughed aloud. in the midst of the merriment, the princess, calmly, and with scarce a change from her ordinary tone, proceeded to an explanation. "your majesty," she said, "i am reminded of an invitation left with the person whose identity was in discussion the instant of this announcement. in the afternoon, while i was sojourning in the white castle, an arab story-teller was presented to me under recommendation of my courteous host. he was said to be of great professional renown in the east, a sheik travelling to adrianople for the divertisement of the hanoum of the sultan. in the desert they call him endearingly the _singing sheik_. i was glad to have the hours assisted in their going, and he did not disappoint me. so charmed was i by his tales and manner of telling them, by his genius, that in taking my departure from what proved a most agreeable retreat, and in acknowledging the hospitable entertainment given me, i referred to the singer, and requested the governor to prevail on him to extend his journey here, in order to favor me with another opportunity to hear him. had i then known it was in my lord's purposes to visit me with such a company of most noble gentlemen, or could i have even anticipated the honor, i should not have appointed to-day for the audience with him. but he is in attendance; and now, with full understanding of the circumstances, it is for your majesty to pronounce upon his admission. perhaps"--she paused with a look of deprecation fairly divisible share and share alike between the emperor and the lords around her--"perhaps time may hang heavy with my guests this morning; if so, i shall hold myself obliged to the singing sheik if he can help me entertain them." now, was there one present to attach a criticism to the favor extended the arab, he dismissed it summarily, wondering at her easy grace. the emperor no doubt shared the admiration with his suite; but concealing it, he said, with an air of uncertainty, "thy recommendation, daughter, is high; and if i remain, verily, it will be with expectation wrought up to a dangerous degree; yet having often heard of the power of the strolling poets of whom this one is in probability an excellent example, i confess i should be pleased to have thee admit him." of the admiral, he then asked, "we were to set out in return about noon, were we not?" "about noon, your majesty." "well, the hour is hardly upon us. let the man appear, daughter; only, as thou lovest us, contrive that he keep to short recitals, which, without holding us unwillingly, will yet suffice to give an idea of his mind and methods. and keep thyself prepared for an announcement of our departure, and when received, mistake it not for discontent with thyself. admit the arab." chapter xix two turkish tales the situation now offered the reader is worth a pause, if only to fix it in mind. constantine and mahommed, soon to be contestants in war, are coming face to face, lovers both of the same woman. the romance is obvious; yet it is heightened by another circumstance. one of them is in danger. we of course know aboo-obeidah, the singing sheik, is prince mahommed in disguise; we know the prince also as heir of amurath the sultan, a very old man liable to vacate place and life at any moment. suppose now the rash adventurer--the term fits the youth truly as if he were without rank--should be discovered and denounced to the emperor. the consequences can only be treated conjecturally. in the first place, to what extremities the prince would be put in explaining his presence there. he could plead the invitation of the princess irene. but his rival would be his judge, and the judge might find it convenient to laugh at the truth, and rest his decision on the prisoner's disguise, in connection with his own presence--two facts sufficiently important to serve the most extreme accusation. constantine, next, was a knightly monarch who knew to live nobly, and dared die as he lived; yet, thinking of what he might do with mahommed fallen into his hands under circumstances so peculiar, there was never a caesar not the slave of policy. in the audience to manuel the sailor, we have seen how keenly sensitive he was to the contraction the empire had suffered. since that day, to be sure, he had managed to keep the territory he came to; none the less, he felt the turk to whom the stolen provinces invariably fell was his enemy, and that truce or treaty with him did not avail to loosen the compression steadily growing around his capital. over and over, daytime and night, the unhappy emperor pondered the story of the daughter of tantalus; and often, starting from dreams in which the ottoman power was a serpent slowly crawling to its victim, he would cry in real agony--"o constantinople--niobe! who can save thee but god? and if he will not--alas, alas!" the feeling thus engendered was not of a kind to yield readily to generosity. mahommed once securely his, everything might be let go--truth, honor, glory--everything but the terms of advantage purchasable with such an hostage. the invitation to the imaginary sheik had been a last act of grace by irene, about to embark for the city. mahommed, when he accepted, knew therapia by report a village very ancient historically, but decaying, and now little more than a summer resort and depot of supplies for fishermen. that its proverbial quietude would be disturbed, and the sleepy blood of its inhabitants aroused, by a royal galley anchoring in the bay to discharge the personnel of the empire itself, could have had no place in his anticipations. so when he stepped into a boat, the aboo-obeidah of his eulogy, and suffered himself, without an attendant, to be ferried across to roumeli-hissar; when he there took an humble wherry of two oars, and bade the unliveried greeks who served them pull for therapia, it was to see again the woman who was taking his fancy into possession, not constantine and his court bizarre in splendor and habitude. in other words, mahommed on setting out had no idea of danger. love, or something very like it, was his sole inspiration. the trireme, with the white cross on its red sail, its deck a martial and courtly spectacle, had been reported to him as the hundred and twenty flashing scarlet blades, in their operation a miracle of unity, whisked it by the old castle, and he had come forth to see it. where are they going? he asked those around him; and they, familiar with the bosphorus, its shipping and navigation, answered unanimously, to exercise her crew up in the black sea; and thinking of the breadth of the dark blue fields there, the reply commended itself, and he dismissed the subject. the course chosen by his boatmen when they put off from roumeli-hissar kept him close to the european shore, which he had leisure to study. then, as now, it was more favored than its asiatic opposite. the winds from the sea, southward blowing, unloaded their mists to vivify its ivy and myrtle. the sunlight, tarrying longest over its pine-clad summits, coaxed habitations along the shore; here, a palace; there, under an overhanging cliff, a hamlet; yonder, a long extended village complaisantly adapting itself to the curvatures of the brief margin left it for occupancy. wherever along the front of the heights and on the top there was room for a field the advantage had been seized. so the prince had offered him the sight of all others most significant of peace among men--sight of farmers tilling the soil. with the lucid sky above him summer-laden, the water under and about him a liquid atmosphere, the broken mountain-face changing from lovely to lovelier, and occasionally awakening him with a superlative splendor, the abodes so near, and the orchards and strawberry and melon patches overhead, symbolizing goodwill and fraternity and happiness amongst the poor and humble--with these, and the rhythmic beating of the oars to soothe his spirit, fierce and mandatory even in youth, he went, the time divided between views fair enough for the most rapturous dreams, and the greek, of whom, with all their brightness, they were but dim suggestions. past the stream-riven gorge of balta-liman he went; past emirghian; past the haven of stenia, and the long shore-town of yenikeui; then, half turning the keuibachi bend, lo! therapia, draggling down the stony steep, like a heap of bangles on a brown-red cheek. and there, in the soft embracement of the bay, a bird with folded wings asleep--the _trireme_! the sight startled the prince. he spoke to the rowers, and they ceased fighting the current, and with their chins over their shoulders, looked whither he pointed. from ship to shore he looked; then, pursuing the curve inland to the bridge at the upper end; thence down what may be called the western side, he beheld people crowding between a quay and a red kiosk over which pended a wooded promontory. "there is a princess living in this vicinity," said he to one of the rowers, slightly lifting the handkerchief from his face. "where is her palace?" "in the garden yonder. you see the gate over the heads of the men and women." "what is her name?" "princess irene. she is known on this shore as the good princess." "irene--a sound pleasant to the ear"--mahommed muttered. "why is she called good?" "because she is an angel of mercy to the poor." "that is not usual with the great and rich," he said next, yielding to a charm in the encomiums. "yes," the boatman responded, "she is great, being akin to the emperor, and rich, too, though"-- here the man broke off to assist in bringing the boat back from its recession with the current, at this point boisterously swift. "you were saying the princess is rich," mahommed said, when the oars were again at rest. "oh, yes! but i cannot tell you, my friend, how many are partners in her wealth. every widow and orphan who can get to her comes away with a portion. isn't it so?" his companion grunted affirmatively, adding: "down yonder a man with a crooked back lives in an arched cell opening on the water. perhaps the stranger saw it as he came up." "yes," mahommed answered. "well, in the back part of the cell he has an altar with a crucifix and a picture of the blessed mother on it, and he keeps a candle burning before them day and night--something he could not do if we did not help him, for candles of wax are costly. he has named the altar after the princess, sta. irene. we often stop and go in there to pray; and i have heard the blessings in the light of that candle are rich and many as the patriarch has for sale in sta. sophia." these praises touched mahommed; for, exalted as he was in station, he was aware of the proneness of the poor to berate the rich and grumble at the great, and that such had been a habit with them from the commencement of the world. again the boat slipped down the current; when it was brought back, he asked: "when did the ship yonder come up?" "this morning." "oh, yes! i saw it then, but thought the crew were being taken to the sea for practice." "no," the boatman replied, "it is the state galley of his majesty the emperor. did you not see him? he sat on the throne with all his ministers and court around him." mahommed was startled. "where is the emperor now?" he inquired. "i should say, seeing the crowd yonder, that his majesty is in the palace with the princess." "yes," said the second rower, "they are waiting to see him come out." "row out into the bay. i should like to have the view from that quarter." while making the detour, mahommed reflected. naturally he remembered himself the son of amurath; after which it was easy to marshal the consequences of exposure, if he persisted in his venture. he saw distinctly how his capture would be a basis of vast bargaining with his father, or, if the sturdy old warrior preferred revenge to payment of a ruinous ransom, how the succession and throne might slip to another, leaving him a prisoner for life. yet another matter presented itself to him which the reader may decide worthy a separate paragraph. its mention has been waiting this opportunity. the prince from magnesia, his seat of government, was on the way to adrianople, called thither by his father, who had chosen a bride for him, daughter of a renowned emir. regularly he would have crossed the hellespont at gallipoli; a whim, however, took him to the white castle--whim or destiny, one being about as satisfactory as the other. pondering silently whether it were not best to return, he thought, apropos the princess irene, of the nuptials to be celebrated, and of his bride expectant; and a christian, pausing over the suggestion, may be disposed to condemn him for inconstancy. in countries where many wives are allowed the same husband he is not required to love any of them. indeed, his fourth spouse may be the first to command him; hers the eyes for his enslavement; hers the voice of the charmer charming both wisely and forever. mahommed did now think of the emir's daughter, but not with compunction, nor even in comparison. he had never seen her face, and would not until after the wedding days. he thought of her but to put her aside; she could not be as this christian was, neither so accomplished nor courtly; besides which, it was dawning upon him that there were graces of mind and soul as well as of person, while perfection was a combination of all the graces in equal degree. gleams of the latter had visited him while gazing into the radiant face of the emperor's kinswoman; and how, at such favoring times, his fancy had gone out to her and come back warmed, enlivened, glorified! there is a passion of the mind and a passion of the blood; and though one and one make two, two is still a multiple of one. looking thus at the galley, mahommed thought of the tales in the east not less common than in the west, and believed in them faithfully, for chivalry was merely on the wane--tales of beauteous damsels shut up in caves or adamantine castles, with guardian lions couchant at the gates, and of well-sworded heroes who marched boldly up to the brutes, and slew them, and delivered the captives always with reward. of course, in making the application, the princess was the prisoner, the ship the lion, and himself--well, in want of a sword, he laid hand upon his dagger, precisely as a liberating knight up to the ideal would do. nor was this all. the revelations of the prince of india were still fresh to him. he wished to see his competitor. how did he look? was there enough of him to make battle? he smiled thinking of the pleasure there would be in slyly studying the princess and the emperor at the same time. he drew the handkerchief down, looked at his brown-stained hands, and adjusted the folds of his burnoose. the disguise was perfect. "take me to the landing--there before the gate of the good princess," he said, with the air of a traveller above suspicion. his resolution was taken. challenging all chances, he would respond to the invitation of the princess. and so completely were doubt and hesitation dismissed with our adventurer, that it was not mahommed who stepped from the boat where the populace was in densest assemblage, but aboo-obeidah, the singing sheik, and as such we will speak of him. the guard at the gate, viewing him askance, detained him until he could be reported. a fair conception of the scene presented when the sheik stood on the floor of the portico is probably in the reader's mind; yet a glance at it may be pardoned. it was at first like a sudden introduction to an oriental garden. there were the vines, flowering shrubs, fruiting trees, many-fronded palms, and the effect of outdoors derived from the shadows of the pillars, and the sunshine streaming brilliantly through the open intervals. the tables bore proofs of the collation served upon them. overhead was the soft creaminess of pure marble in protected state mellowed by friendly touches of time. at the end of the vista, the company was indistinctly visible through the verdure of obtruding branches. voices came to him from that part, and gleams of bright garments; and to get to them it seemed he must pass through a viridescent atmosphere flecked with blooms, and faintly sweet with odors. for in losing the masculinity of their race the greeks devoted themselves more and more to refined effeminacies. moving slowly forward under the guidance of lysander, whose javelin beating the floor accentuated the rasping shuffle of his sandals, the sheik came presently to a full view of the concourse. he stopped, partly in obedience to a fine instinct of propriety teaching him he was now subject to the pleasure of his hostess, and partly to single out the royal enemy against whom he believed he was about to be pitted by destiny. constantine was sitting at ease, his left elbow resting on an arm of the sedilium, his forefinger supporting his cheek, his cloak across his lap. the attitude was reflective; the countenance exposed under the lifted visor of the helmet, was calm and benignant; except there was no suggestion of an evil revery holding the current of his thought, or casting a shade of uncertainty over his soul, he looked not unlike the famous il penseroso familiar to art-seekers in the medici chapel of florence. then the eyes of the rivals met. the greek was in no wise moved. how it would have been with him could he have seen through the disguise of the sheik may never be said. on the other part, the sheik lifted his head, and seemed taking on increase of stature. a projecting fold of the head-kerchief overhung his face, permitting nothing to be seen but red-hued cheeks, a thin beard, and eyes black and glittering. the review he felt himself undergoing did not daunt him; it only sent his pride mounting, like a leap of flame. "by the virgin!" said one of the courtiers to another, in a louder tone than the occasion demanded. "we may indeed congratulate ourselves upon having seen the king of camel drivers." there was a disposition to laugh amongst the lighter-minded of the guests, but the princess checked it by rising. "bid the sheik approach," she said, to the old domestic; and, at a sign from her, the waiting-women drew closer about her chair. the figure of the princess clad all in white, a bracelet of plain gold upon her left arm, fillets in her hair, one red, the other blue, a double strand of pearls about her neck--this figure, with the small head, perfect in turn, set matchlessly upon the sloping shoulders, the humid eyes full of violet light, the cheeks flushed with feeling--this figure so bright in its surroundings, admitted no rivalry in attention, none in admiration; the courtiers, old and young, turned from the sheik, and the sheik from the emperor. in a word, every eye centred upon the princess, every tongue bade hush lest what she said might be lost. etiquette required the sheik's presentation to the emperor first, but seeing her about to comply with the rule, he prostrated himself at her feet. as he arose, she said: "when i invited you to come and give me more of the cheer there is in your art, o sheik, i did not know my gracious kinsman, to whom every greek is proud and happy to be allegiant, designed visiting me to-day. i pray you will not suffer too much from his presence, but regard him a royal auditor who delights in a tale well told, and in verses when the theme and measure go lovingly together. his majesty, the emperor!" "hist! didst hear?" whispered the professor of philosophy to the professor of rhetoric. "thyself couldst not have spoken better." "ay, truly," the other answered. "save a trifle of stiffness, the speech might have served longinus." with her last word, the princess stepped aside, leaving mahommed and constantine front to front. had the sheik been observant of the monarch's dues, he would have promptly prostrated himself; but the moment for the salutation passed, and he remained standing, answering the look he received calmly as it was given. the reader and the writer know the reason governing him; the suite, however, were not so well informed, and they began to murmur. the princess herself appeared embarrassed. "lord of constantinople," the sheik said, seeing speech was his, "were i a greek, or a roman, or an ottoman, i should make haste to kiss the floor before you, happy of the privilege; for--be the concession well noted"--he glanced deferentially around him as he spoke--"the report which the world has of you is of a kind to make it your lover. after a few days--allah willing--i shall stand before amurath the sultan. though in reverencing him i yield not to any one simply his friend, he will waive prostration from me, knowing what your majesty may not. in my country we cleanse the ground with our beards before no one but god. not that we are unwilling to conform to the rules of the courts in which we find ourselves; with us it is a law--to kiss a man's hand maketh him the master; prostrate thyself to him, and without other act, thou becomest his subject. i am an arab!" the sheik was not in the least defiant; on the contrary, his manner was straightforward, simple, sincere, as became one interposing conscience against an observance in itself rightful enough. only in the last exclamation was there a perceptible emphasis, a little marked by a lift of the head and a kindling of the eyes. "i see your majesty comprehends me," he said, continuing; "yet to further persuade your court, and especially the fair and high-born lady, whose guest, with all my unworthiness, i am, from believing me moved in this matter by disrespect for their sovereign, i say next, if by prostration i made myself a roman, the act would be binding on the tribe whose sheik i am by lawful election. and did i that, o thou whose bounties serve thy people in lieu of rain! though my hand were white, like the first prophet's, when, to assure the egyptian, he drew it from his bosom, it would char blacker than dust of burned willow--then, o thou, lovelier than the queen the lost lapwing reported to solomon! though my breath were as the odor of musk, it would poison, like an exhalation from a leper's grave--then, o my lords! like karoon in his wickedness, i should hear allah say of me, o earth, swallow him! for as there are crimes and crimes, verily the chief who betrays his brethren born to the practice of freedom, shall wander between tents all his days, crying, oh, alas! oh, alas! who now will defend me against god?" when the sheik paused, as if for judgment, he was not only acquitted of intentional disrespect; the last grumbler was anxious to hear him further. "what astonishing figures!" the philosopher whispered to the rhetorician. "i begin to think it true that the east hath a style of its own." "i commend thy sagacity, my brother," the other replied. "his peroration was redolent of the koran--a wonderful fellow nevertheless!" presently the whole concourse was looking at the emperor, with whom it rested whether the sheik should be dismissed or called on for entertainment. "daughter," said constantine to the princess, "i know not enough of the tribal law of thy guest to have an opinion of the effect upon him and his of the observance of our ancient ceremony; wherefore we are bound to accept his statement. moreover it does not become our dignity to acquire subjects and dominion, were they ever so desirable, in a method justly liable to impeachment for treachery and coercion. besides which--and quite as important, situated as we are--thy hospitality is to be defended." here the sheik, who had been listening to the emperor, and closely observing him, thrice lightly clapped his hands. "it remains for us, therefore, to waive the salutation in this instance." a ripple of assent proceeded from the suite. "and now, daughter," constantine pursued, "thy guest being present to give thee of his lore, it may be he will be pleased to have us of his audience as well. having heard much of such performances, and remembering their popularity when we were in our childhood, we will esteem ourselves fortunate if now favored by one highly commended as a master in his guild." the sheik's eyes sparkled brighter as he answered, "it is written for us in our holiest, the very word of the compassionate,--'if ye are greeted with a greeting, then greet ye with a better greeting, or at least return it.' verily my lord dispenseth honor with so light a hand as not to appear aware of the doing. when my brethren under the black tents are told of my having won the willing ear of their majesties of byzantium and adrianople, they will think of me as one who has been permitted to walk in the light of two suns simultaneous in shining." so saying, he bowed very low. "my only unhappiness now is in not knowing the direction in which my lord's preferences run; for as a stream goes here and there, but all the time keeps one general course, seeking the sea, so with taste; though it yield a nod now, and then a smile, it hath always a deeper delight for the singer's finding. i have the gay and serious--history, traditions--the heroics of men and nations, their heart-throbs in verse and prose--all or any for the lord of constantinople and his kinswoman, my hostess,--may her life never end until the song of the dove ceases to be heard in the land!" "what say you, my friends?" asked constantine, glancing graciously at those around him. then they looked from him to the princess, and in thought of the betrothal, replied, "love--something of love!" "no," he returned, unflinchingly. "we are youths no longer. there is enlightenment in the traditions of nations. our neighbors, the turks--what hast thou of them, sheik?" "didst thou hear?" said notaras to one at his elbow. "he hath recanted; the empress will not be a greek." there was no answer; for the sheik, baring his head, hung the kerchief and cord upon his arm, preliminaries which gave him perfectly to view. a swarthy face; hair black, profuse, closely cut along the temples; features delicate but manly--these the bystanders saw in a general way, being more attracted by the repressed fire in the man's eyes, and his air high and severely noble. when the princess caught sight of the countenance, she fell into a confusion. she had seen it, but where and when? the instant he was beginning he gazed at her, and in the exchange of glances she was reminded of the governor bidding her adieu on the shore of the sweet waters. but he was youthful, while this one--could it be he was old? the feeling was a repetition of that she had in the castle when the storyteller appeared the first time. "i will tell how the turks became a nation." then, in greek but a little broken, the sheik began a recital. alaeddin and ertoghrul i a tale of ertoghrul!-- how when the chief lay one day nooning with his stolen herds, a sound of drumming smote him from the east, and while he stood to see what came of it, the west with like notes fainter, echo-like, made answer; then two armies rode in view, horses and men in steel, the sheen of war about them and above, and wheeling quick from column into line, drew all their blades, shook all their flags, and charged and lost themselves in depths of dusty clouds, which yet they tore with blinding gleams of light, and yells of rage, and cheers so high and hoarse they well might seem the rolling thunder of a mountain storm. long time the hosts contended; but at last the lesser one began to yield the ground, oppressed in front, and on its flanks o'erwhelmed: and hasted then the end, a piteous sight, most piteous to the very brave who know from lessons of their lives, how seldom 'tis despair can save where valor fails to win. then ertoghrul aroused him, touched to heart. "my children, mount, and out with cimeter! i know not who these are, nor whence they come; nor need we care. 'twas allah led them here, and we will honor him--and this our law; what though the weak may not be always right, we'll make it always right to help the weak. deep take the stirrups now, and ride with me, _allah-il-allah!"_ thus spake ertoghrul; and at the words, with flying reins, and all his eager tribe, four hundred sworded men, headlong he rode against the winning host. ii beneath the captured flags, the spoils in heaps around him laid, the rescued warrior stood, a man of kingly mien, while to him strode his unexpected friend. "now who art thou?" the first was first to ask. "sheik ertoghrul am i." "the herds i see--who calls them his?" laughed ertoghrul, and showed his cimeter. "the sword obeys my hand, the hand my will, and given will and hand and sword, i pray thee tell me, why should any man be poor?" "and whose the plain?" "comes this way one a friend of mine, and leaves his slippers at my door, why then, 'tis his." "and whose the hills that look upon the plain?" "my flocks go there at morn, and thence they come at night--i take my right of allah." "no," the stranger mildly said, "'twas allah made them mine." frowned ertoghrul, while darkened all the air; but from his side full pleasantly the stranger took a sword, its carven hilt one royal emerald, its blade both sides with legends overwrought, some from the koran, some from solomon, all by the cunning eastern maker burned into the azure steel-his sword he took, and held it, belt, and scabbard too, in sign of gift. "the herds, the plain, the hills were mine; but take thou them, and with them this in proof of title." lifted ertoghrul his brows, and opened wide his eyes. "now who art thou?" he asked in turn. "oh, i am alaeddin-- sometimes they call me alaeddin the great." "i take thy gifts--the herds, the plain, the hills," said ertoghrul; "and so i take the sword; but none the less, if comes a need, 'tis thine. let others call thee alaeddin the great; to me and mine thou'rt alaeddin the good and great." with that, he kissed the good king's hand; and making merry, to the sheik's dowar they rode. and thus from nothing came the small; and now the lonely vale which erst ye knew, and scorned, because it nursed the mountain's feet, doth cradle mornings on the mountain's top. _mishallah!_ the quiet which held the company through the recitation endured a space afterwards, and--if the expression be allowed--was in itself a commentary upon the performance. "where is our worthy professor of rhetoric?" asked constantine. "here, your majesty," answered the man of learning, rising. "canst thou not give us a lecture upon the story with which thy arabian brother hath favored us?" "nay, sire, criticism, to deal justly, waiteth until the blood is cool. if the sheik will honor me with a copy of his lines, i will scan and measure them by the rules descended to us from homer, and his attic successors." the eyes of the emperor fell next upon the moody, discontented face of duke notaras. "my lord admiral, what sayest thou of the tale?" "of the tale, nothing; of the story-teller--i think him an insolent, and had i my way, your majesty, he should have a plunge in the bosphorus." presuming the sheik unfamiliar with latin, the duke couched his reply in that tongue; yet the former raised his head, and looked at the speaker, his eyes glittering with intelligence--and the day came, and soon, when the utterance was relentlessly punished. "i do not agree with you, my lord," constantine said, in a melancholy tone. "our fathers, whether we look for them on the roman or the greek side, might have played the part of ertoghrul. his was the spirit of conquest. would we had enough of it left to get back our own!--sheik," he added, "what else hast thou in the same strain? i have yet a little time to spare--though it shall be as our hostess saith." "nay," she answered, with deference, "there is but one will here." and taking assent from her, the sheik began anew. el jann and his parable _bismillah!_ ertoghrul pursued a wolf, and slew it on the range's tallest peak, above the plain so high there was nor grass nor even mosses more. and there he sat him down awhile to rest; when from the sky, or the blue ambiency cold and pure, or maybe from the caverns of the earth where solomon the king is wont to keep the monster genii hearkening his call, el jann, vast as a cloud, and thrice as black, appeared and spoke-- "art thou sheik ertoghrul?" and he undaunted answered: "even so." "well, i would like to come and sit with thee." "thou seest there is not room for both of us." "then rise, i say, and get thee part way down the peak." "'twere easier," laughed ertoghrul, "madest thou thyself like me as thin and small; and i am tired." a rushing sound ran round and up and down the height, most like the whir of wings through tangled trees of forests old and dim. a moment thus--the time a crisped leaf, held, armlength overhead, will take to fall-- and then a man was sitting face to face with ertoghrul. "this is the realm of snow," he said, and smiled--"a place from men secure, where only eagles fearless come to nest, and summer with their young." the sheik replied, "it was a wolf--a gaunt gray wolf, which long had fattened on my flocks--that lured me here. i killed it." "on thy spear i see no blood; and where, o sheik, the carcass of the slain? i see it not." around looked ertoghrul-- there was no wolf; and at his spear-- upon its blade no blood. then rose his wrath, a mighty pulse. "the spear hath failed its trust-- i'll try the cimeter." a gleam of light-- a flitting, wind-borne spark in murk of night-- then fell the sword, the gift of alaeddin; edge-first it smote the man upon his crown-- between his eyes it shore, nor staying there, it cut his smile in two--and not yet spent, but rather gaining force, through chin and chine, and to the very stone on which he sat it clove, and finished with a bell-like clang of silvern steel 'gainst steel. "aha! aha!"-- but brief the shout; for lo! there was no stain upon the blade withdrawn, nor moved the man, nor changed he look or smile. "i was the wolf that ran before thee up the mountain side; 'twas i received thy spear as now thy sword; and know thou further, sheik, nor wolf nor man am i, nor mortal thing of any kind; only a thought of allah's. canst thou kill a thought divine? not solomon himself could that, except with thought yet more divine. yield thee thy rage; and when thou think'st of me hereafter, be it as of one, a friend, who brought a parable, and made display before thee, saying-- "lo! what allah wills." therewith he dropped a seed scarce visible into a little heap of sand and loam between them drawn. "lo! allah wills." and straight the dust began to stir as holding life. again el jann-- "behold what allah wills!" a tiny shoot appeared; a waxen point close shawled in many folds of wax as white, it might have been a vine to humbly creep-- a lily soon to sunward flare its stars-- a shrub to briefly coquette with the winds. again the cabalism-- "lo! allah's will." the apparition budded, leafed, and branched, and with a flame of living green lit all the barrenness about. and still it grew-- until it touched the pillars of the earth, and lapped its boundaries, the far and near, and under it, as brethren in a tent, the nations made their home, and dwelt in peace forever. "lo!"-- and ertoghrul awoke. _mishallah!_ this recitation commanded closer attention than the first one. each listener had a feeling that the parable at the end, like all true parables, was of continuous application, while its moral was in some way aimed at him. the looks the sheik received were by no means loving. the spell was becoming unpleasant. then the emperor arose, as did the princess, to whom, as hostess, the privilege of sitting had been alone conceded. "our playtime is up--indeed, i fear, it has been exceeded," he said, glancing at the dean, who was acting master of ceremonies. the dean responded with a bow low as his surroundings admitted; whereupon the emperor went to the princess, and said, "we will take leave now, daughter, and for myself and my lords of the court, i acknowledge a most agreeable visit, and thank you for it." she respectfully saluted the hand he extended to her. "our gate and doors at blacherne are always open to you." the adieu was specially observed by the courtiers, and they subsequently pronounced it decorous for a sovereign, cordial as became a relative, but most un-loverlike. indeed, it was a strong point in the decision subsequently of general acceptance, by which his majesty was relieved of the proposal of marriage to the princess. the latter took his offered arm, and accompanied him to the steps of the portico, where, when he had descended, the lords one by one left a kiss on her hand. nor should it be forgotten, that as constantine was passing the sheik, he paused to say to him in his habitually kind and princely manner: "the tree sheik ertoghrul saw in his dream has spread, and is yet spreading, but its shadow has not compassed all the nations; and while god keeps me, it will not. had not i myself invited the parable, it might have been offensive. for the instruction and entertainment given me, accept thou this--and go in peace." the sheik took the ring offered him, and the gaze with which he followed the imperial giver was suggestive of respect and pity. chapter xx mahommed dreams it was a trifle after noon. the trireme and the assemblage of admiring townspeople had disappeared, leaving the bay and its shores to their wonted quiet. the palace, however, nestling in the garden under the promontory, must be permitted to hold our interest longer. aboo-obeidah had eaten and drunk, for being on a journey, he was within the license of the law as respects wine; and now he sat with the princess alone at the end of the portico lately occupied by the emperor and his suite. a number of her attendants amused themselves out of hearing of the two, though still within call. she occupied the sedilium; he a seat by the table near her. save a fine white veil on an arm and a fan which she seldom used, her appearance was as in the morning. it is to be admitted now that the princess was finding a pleasure in the society of the sheik. if aware of the fact, which was doubtful, it is still more doubtful if she could have explained it. we are inclined to think the mystery attaching to the man had as much to do with the circumstance as the man himself. he was polite, engaging, and handsome; the objection to his complexion, if such there were, was at least offset by a very positive faculty of entertaining; besides which, the unspeakable something in manner, always baffling disguises, always whispering of other conditions, always exciting suggestions and expectations, was present here. if she thought him the bedouin he assumed to be, directly a word changed the opinion; did she see the governor of the old castle in his face, an allusion or a bit of information dropped by him unaware spoke of association far beyond such a subordinate; most perplexing, however, where got the man his intelligence? did learning like his, avoiding cloisters, academies, and teachers of classical taste, comport with camel-driving and tent-life in deserts harried by winds and sand? the mystery, together with the effort to disentangle it, resolved the princess into an attentive auditor. the advantages in the conversation were consequently with the sheik; and he availed himself of them to lead as he chose. "you have heard, o princess, of the sacred fig-tree of the hindus?" "no." "in one of their poems--the bhagavad gita, i think--it is described as having its roots above and its branches downward; thus drawing life from the sky and offering its fruit most conveniently, it is to me the symbol of a good and just king. it rose to my mind when thy kinsman--may allah be thrice merciful to him!--passed me with his speech of forgiveness, and this gift "--he raised his hand, and looked at the ring on one of the fingers-"in place of which i was more deserving burial in the bosphorus, as the black-browed admiral said." a frown dark as the admiral's roughened his smooth brow. "why so?" she inquired. "the tales i told were of a kind to be spared a greek, even one who may not cover his instep with the embroidered buskin of an emperor." "nay, sheik, they did not ruffle him. on the tongue of a turk, i admit, the traditions had been boastful, but you are not a turk." the remark might have been interrogative; wherefore with admirable address, he replied: "an ottoman would see in me an arab wholly unrelated to him, except as i am a moslem. let it pass, o princess--he forgave me. the really great are always generous. when i took the ring, i thought, now would the young mahommed have so lightly pardoned the provocation?" "mahommed!" she said. "not the prophet," he answered; "but the son of amurath." "ah, you know him?" "i have sat with him, o princess, and at table often helped him to meat and bread. i have been his cupbearer and taster, and as frequently shared his outdoor sports; now hunting with hawk, and now with hound. oh, it were worth a year of common days to gallop at his right hand, and exult with him when the falcon, from its poise right under the sun, drops itself like an arrow upon its enemy! i have discoursed with him also on themes holy and profane, and given and taken views, and telling him tales in prose and verse, have seen the day go out, then come again. in knightly practice i have tilted with him, and more than once, by his side in battle, loosened rein at the same cry and charged. his sultana mother knows him well; but, by the lions and the eagles who served solomon, i know him, beginning where her knowledge left off--that is, where the horizon of manhood stretched itself to make room for his enlarging soul." the awakening curiosity of his listener was not lost upon the sheik. "you are surprised to hear a kindly speech of the son of amurath," he said. she flushed slightly. "i am not a person, sheik, whose opinions are dangerous to the peace of states, and of whom diplomacy is required; yet it would grieve me to give offence to you or your friend, the prince mahommed. if now i concede a wish to have some further knowledge of one who is shortly to inherit the most powerful of the eastern kingdoms, the circumstance ought not to subject me to harsh judgment." "princess," the sheik said, "nothing so becomes a woman as care where words may be the occasion of mischief. as a flower in a garden, such a woman would rank as the sovereign rose; as a bird, she would be the bulbul, the sweetest of singers, and in beauty, a heron with throat of snow, and wings of pink and scarlet; as a star, she would be the first of the evening, and the last to pale in the morning--nay, she would be a perpetual morning. of all fates what more nearly justifies reproach of allah than to have one's name and glory at the mercy of a rival or an enemy? i am indeed mahommed's friend--i know him--i will defend him, where sacred truth permits defence. and then"--his glance fell, and he hesitated. "and what then?" she asked. he gave her a grateful look, and answered: "i am going to adrianople. the prince will be there, and can i tell him of this audience, and that the princess irene regrets the evil reported of him in constantinople, and is not his enemy, straightway he will number himself of those the most happy and divinely remembered, whose books are to be given them in their right hands." the princess looked at the singer, her countenance clear, serene, fair as a child's, and said: "i am the enemy of no one living. report me so to him. the master i follow left a law by which all men and women are neighbors whom i am to love and pray for as i love and pray for myself. deliver him the very words, o sheik, and he will not misunderstand me." a moment after she asked: "but tell me more of him. he is making the world very anxious." "princess," the sheik began, "ebn hanife was a father amongst dervishes, and he had a saying, 'ye shall know a plant by its flower, a vine by its fruit, and a man by his acts; what he does being to the man as the flower to the plant, and the fruit to the vine; if he have done nothing, prove him by his tastes and preferences, for what he likes best that he will do when left to himself.' by these tests let us presume to try the prince mahommed.... there is nothing which enthralls us like the exercise of power--nothing we so nearly carry with us into the tomb to be a motive there; for who shall say it has not a part in the promise of resurrection? if so, o princess, what praise is too great for him who, a young man placed upon a throne by his father, comes down from it at his father's call?" "did mahommed that?" "not once, o princess, but twice." "in so much at least his balance should be fair." "to whom is the pleasant life in a lofty garden, its clusters always near at hand--to whom, if not to the just judges of their fellow-men?" the sheik saluted her twice by carrying his right hand to his beard, then to his forehead. "attend again, o princess," he continued, more warmly than in the outset. "mahommed is devoted to learning. at night in the field when the watches are set, the story-tellers, poets, philosophers, lawyers, preachers, experts in foreign tongues, and especially the inventors of devices, a class by themselves, supposed generally to live on dreams as others on bread--all these, finding welcome in his tent, congregate there. his palace in the city is a college, with recitations and lectures and instructive conversations. the objection his father recognized the times he requested him to vacate the throne was that he was a student. his ancestors having been verse makers, poetry is his delight; and if he does not rival them in the gentle art, he surpasses them in the number of his acquirements. the arab, the hebrew, the greek, the latin address him and have answers each in his mother's tongue. knew you ever a scholar, o princess, whose soul had utterly escaped the softening influence of thought and study? it is not learning which tames the barbarian so much as the diversion of mind from barbaric modes required of him while in the pursuit of learning." she interrupted him, saying pleasantly: "i see, o sheik, if to be at the mercy of an enemy is sad, how fortunate where one's picture is intended if the artist be a friend. where had the prince his instructors?" there was a lurking smile in the sheik's eyes, as he replied: "the sands in my country drink the clouds dry, and leave few fountains except of knowledge. the arab professors in cordova, whom the moorish kaliphs deemed themselves honored in honoring, were not despised by the bishops of rome. amurath, wanting teachers for mahommed, invited the best of them to his court. ah--if i had the time!" observing his sigh had not failed its mark, he continued: "i would speak of some of the books i have seen on the prince's table; for as a licensed friend, i have been in his study. indeed, but for fear of too greatly recommending myself, i would have told you earlier, o princess, how he favoured me as one of his teachers." "of poetry and story-telling, i suppose?" "why not?" he asked. "our history is kept and taught in such forms. have we a hero not himself a poet, he keeps one.... upon the prince's table, in the central place, objects of his reverence, the sources to which he most frequently addresses himself when in need of words and happy turns of expression, his standards of comparison for things beautiful in writing and speech, mirrors of the most merciful, whispering galleries wherein the voice of the most compassionate is never silent, are the koran, with illustrations in gold, and the bible in hebrew, copied from _torahs_ of daily use in the synagogues." "the bible in hebrew! does he read it?" "like a jewish elder." "and the gospels?" the sheik's face became reproachful. "art thou--even thou, o princess--of those who believe a moslem must reject christ because the prophet of islam succeeded him with later teachings?" dropping then into the passionless manner, he continued: "the koran does not deny christ or his gospels. hear what it says of itself: 'and this koran is not a forgery of one who is no god, but it hath been sent down as a confirmation of those books which have been before it, and an explanation of the scriptures from the lord of the worlds.' [footnote: the koran] ... that verse, o princess, transcribed by the prince mahommed himself, lies between the bible and the koran; the two being, as i have said, always together upon his table." "what then is his faith?" she asked, undisguisedly interested. "would he were here to declare it himself!" this was said disconsolately; then the sheik broke out: "the truth now of the son of amurath! listen!--he believes in god. he believes in the scriptures and the koran, holding them separate wings of the divine truth by which the world is to attain righteousness. he believes there have been three prophets specially in the confidence of god: moses, the first one; jesus, who was greater than moses; mahomet, the very greatest--not for speaking better or sublimer things, but because he was last in their order of coming. above all, o princess, he believes worship due to the most high alone; therefore he prays the prayer of islam, god is god, and mahomet is his prophet--meaning that the prophet is not to be mistaken for god." the sheik raised his dark eyes, and upon meeting them the princess looked out over the bay. that she was not displeased was the most he could read in her face, the youthful light of which was a little shaded by thinking. he waited for her to speak. "there were other books upon the prince's table?" she presently asked. "there were others, o princess." "canst thou name some of them?" the sheik bowed profoundly. "i see the pearls of ebn hanife's saying were not wasted. mahommed is now to be tried by his tastes and preferences. let it be so.... i saw there, besides dictionaries greek, latin, and hebrew, the encyclopaedia of sciences, a rare and wonderful volume by a granadian moor, ibn abdallah. i saw there the astronomy and astronomical tables of ibn junis, and with them a silver globe perfected from the calculations of almamon the kaliph, which helps us to the geographical principle not yet acknowledged in rome, that the earth is round. i saw there the book of the balance of wisdom by alhazan, who delved into the laws of nature until there is nothing phenomenal left. i saw there the philosophy of azazzali the arab, for which both christian and moslem should be grateful, since it has given philosophy its true place by exalting it into a handmaiden of religion. i saw there books treating of trade and commerce, of arms and armor, and machines for the assault and defence of cities, of military engineering, and the conduct of armies in grand campaigns, of engineering not military, dealing with surveying, and the construction of highways, aqueducts, and bridges, and the laying out of towns. there, also, because the soul of the student must have rest and diversion, i saw volumes of songs and music loved by lovers in every land, and drawings of mosques, churches and palaces, masterpieces of indian and saracenic genius; and of gardens there was the zebra, created by abderrahman for the best loved of his sultanas. of poetry, o princess, i saw many books, the lord of them a copy of homer in arabic, executed on ivory from the translation ordered by haroun al-raschid." during this recital the princess scarcely moved. she was hearing a new version of mahommed; and the sheik, like a master satisfied with his premises, proceeded to conclusions. "my lord has a habit of dreaming, and he does not deny it--he believes in it. in his student days, he called it his rest. he used to say, when his brain reeled in overtask dreaming was a pillow of down and lavender; that in moments of despair, dreaming took his spirit in its hands softer than air, and, nurse-like, whispered and sung to it, and presently it was strong again. not many mornings ago he awoke to find that in a deep sleep some ministrant had come to him, and opened the doors of his heart, and let out its flock of boyish fantasies. he has since known but three visions. would it please you, o princess, to hear of them? they may be useful as threads on which to hang the dervish father's pearls of saying." she re-settled herself, resting her cheek on her hand, and her elbow on the arm of the chair, and replied: "i will hear of them." "the visions have all of them reference to the throne he is soon to ascend, without which they would be the mere jingling of a jester's rattle. "first vision.... he will be a hero. if his soul turned from war, he were not his father's son. but unlike his father, he holds war the servant of peace, and peace the condition essential to his other visions. "second vision.... he believes his people have the genius of the moors, and he will cultivate it in rivalry of that marvellous race." "of the moors, o sheik?" the princess said, interrupting him. "of the moors? i have always heard of them as pillagers of sacred cities--infidels sunk in ignorance, who stole the name of god to excuse invasions and the spilling of rivers of blood." the sheik lifted his head haughtily. "i am an arab, and the moors are arabs translated from the east to the west." "i crave thy pardon," she said, gently. and calming himself, he rejoined: "if i weary you, o princess, there are other subjects to which i can turn. my memory is like the box of sandal-wood a lady keeps for her jewelry. i can open it at will, and always find something to please--better probably because i have it from another." "no," she returned, artlessly, "a hero in actual life transcends the best of fancies--and besides, sheik, you spoke of a third vision of your friend, the prince mahommed." he dropped his eyes lest she should see the brightness with which they filled. "war, my lord says, is a necessity which, as sultan, he cannot avoid. were he disposed to content himself with the empire descending from his great father, envious neighbors would challenge him to the field. he must prove his capacity in defence. that done, he vows to tread the path made white and smooth by abderrahman, the noblest and best of the western kaliphs. he will set out by founding a capital somewhere on the bosphorus. such, o princess, is my lord mahommed's third vision." "nay, sheik--on the marmora--at broussa, perhaps." "i am giving the vision as he gave it to me, princess. for where else, he asks, has the spreading earth diviner features than on the bosphorus? where bends a softer sky above a friendlier channel by nature moulded for nobler uses? where are there seas so bridled and reduced? does not the rose bloom here all the year? yonder the east, here the west--must they be strangers and enemies forever? his capital, he declares, shall be for their entertainment as elder and younger brother. within its walls, which he will build strong as a mountain's base, with gates of brass invulnerable, and towers to descry the clouds below the horizon, he will collect unselfishly whatever is good and beautiful, remembering he serves allah best who serves his fellow-men." "all his fellow-men, sheik?" "all of them." then she glanced over the bay, and said very softly: "it is well; for 'if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others?'" the sheik smiled, saying: "and thus the latest prophet, o princess. 'turn away evil by that which is better; and lo, he between whom and thyself was enmity, shall become as though he were a warm friend.'" [footnote: koran] she answered, "a goodly echo." "shall i proceed?" he then asked. "yes." "i was speaking of the third vision.... to make his capital the centre of the earth, he will have a harbor where ships from every country, and all at once, can come and lie, oars slung and sails furled: and near by for trade, a bazaar with streets of marble, and roofed with glass, and broad and long enough for a city unto itself; and in the midst a khan for lodging the merchants and travellers who have not other houses. and as did abderrahman, he will build a university of vast enclosure; here temples, there groves; nor may a study be named without its teacher, and he the most famous; so the votaries of music and poetry, philosophy, science, and the arts, and the hundred-handed mechanics shall dwell together like soldiers in a holy league. and comes that way one religious, of him but a question, believest thou in god? and if he answer yes, then for him a ready welcome. for of what moment is it, my lord asks, whether god bear this name or that? or be worshipped with or without form? or on foot or knee? or whether the devout be called together by voice or bell? is not faith everything?" the picture wrought upon the princess. her countenance was radiant, and she said half to herself, but so the sheik heard her: "it is a noble vision." then the sheik lowered his voice: "if, with such schemes, excluding races and religions--hear me again, o princess!--if with such schemes or visions, as thou wilt, the lord mahommed allows himself one selfish dream, wouldst thou condemn him?" "what is the selfish dream?" she asked. "he has an open saying, princess, 'light is the life of the world, while love is the light of life.' didst thou ever hear how othman wooed and won his malkatoon?" "no." "it is a turkish tale of love. mahommed had it from his mother when he was a lad, and he has been haunted ever since with a belief which, to his dreaming, is like the high window in the eastern front of a palace, outwardly the expression-giver, within the principal source of light. the idea is strongest what times the moon is in the full; and then he mounts a horse, and hies him, as did othman, to some solitary place where, with imagination for cup-bearer, he drinks himself into happy drunkenness." the sheik, bending forward, caught her eyes with his, and held them so not a glance escaped him. "he thinks--and not all the genii, the winged and the unwinged, of the wisest of kings could win him from the thought--that he will sometime meet a woman who will have the mind, the soul of souls, and the beauty of the most beautiful. when she will cross his vision is one of the undelivered scriptories which time is bringing him; yet he is looking for her, and the more constantly because the first sight of her will be his first lesson in the mystery called love. he will know her, for at seeing her a lamp will light itself in his heart, and by it, not the glare of the sun, his spirit will make sure of her spirit. therefore in his absoluteness of faith, o princess, there is a place already provided for her in his promised capital, and even now he calls it this house of love. ah, what hours he has spent planning that abode! he will seat it in the garden of perfection, for the glorifying which, trees, birds, flowers, summer-houses, water, hill-tops and shaded vales shall be conquered. has he not studied the zehra of abderrahman? and divided it as it was into halls, courts and chambers, and formed and proportioned each, and set and reset its thousand and more columns, and restored the pearls and gold on its walls, and over the wide alhambran arches hung silken doors sheened like paradisean birds? and all that when he shall have found her, his queen, his malkatoon, his spirit of song, his breath of flowers, his lily of summer, his pearl of oman, his moon of radjeb, monotony shall never come where she dwells nor shall she sigh except for him absent. such, o princess irene, is the one dream the prince has builded with the world shut out. does it seem to you a vanity of wickedness?" "no," she returned, and covered her face, for the sheik's look was eager and burning bright. he knelt then, and kissed the marble at her feet. "i am prince mahommed's ambassador, o princess," he said, rising to his knees. "forgive me, if i have dared delay the announcement." "his ambassador! to what end?" "i am afraid and trembling." he kissed the floor again. "assure me of pardon--if only to win me back my courage. it is miserable to be shaken with fear." "thou hast done nothing, sheik, unless drawing thy master's portrait too partially be an offence. speak out." "it is not three days, princess, since you were mahommed's guest." "i his guest--mahommed's!" she arose from her chair. "he received you at the white castle." "and the governor?" "he was the governor." she sunk back overcome with astonishment. the sheik recalled her directly. "prince mahommed," he said, "arrived at the castle when the boats were discovered, and hastened to the landing to render assistance if the peril required it.... and now, o princess, my tongue falters. how can i without offending tell of the excitement into which seeing you plunged him? suffer me to be direct. his first impression was supported by the coincidences--your coming and his, so nearly at the same instant--the place of the meeting so out of the way and strange--the storm seemingly an urgency of heaven. beholding and hearing you, 'this is she! this is she! my queen, my malkatoon!' he cried in his heart. and yesterday"-- "nay, sheik, allow the explanation to wait. bearest thou a message from him to me?" "he bade me salute thee, princess irene, as if thou wert now the lady of his house of love in his garden of perfection, and to pray if he might come and in person kiss thy hand, and tell thee his hopes, and pour out at thy feet his love in heartfuls larger than ever woman had from man." while speaking, the sheik would have given his birthright to have seen her face. then, in a low voice, she asked: "does he doubt i am a christian?" the tone was not of anger; with beatings of heart trebly quickened, he hastened to reply: "'that she is a christian'--may god abandon my mouth, if i quote him unfaithfully!--'that she is a christian, i love her the more. for see you, sheik'--by the faith of an arab, princess, i quote him yet, word for word--'my mother was a christian.'" in the morning of this very day we have seen her put to like question by constantine, and she did not hesitate; now the reply took a time. "say to prince mahommed," she at length returned, "that his message presents itself honorably, for which it is deserving a soft answer. his fancy has played him false. i cannot be the woman of his dream. she is young; i am old, though not with years. she is gay; i am serious. she is in love with life, hopeful, joyous; i was born to sorrow, and in sorrow brought up, and the religion which absorbed my youth is now life's hold on me. she will be delighted with the splendors he has in store for her; so might i, had not the wise man long since caught my ear and judgment by the awful text, vanity of vanities, all is vanity. while her charms endure she will keep him charmed with the world; i could not so much, for the world to come has possession of me, and the days here are but so many of a journey thither. tell him, o sheik, while he has been dreaming of palaces and gardens in rivalry of abderrahman the kaliph, i have been dreaming of a house in splendor beyond the conception of architects; and asks he more about it, tell him i know it only as a house not made with hands. tell him i speak not in denial of possibilities; for by the love i have never failed to accord the good and noble, i might bend my soul to his; to this hour, however, god and his son the christ, and the holy mother, and the angels and deserving men and women have taken up my heart and imagination, and in serving them i have not aspired to other happiness. a wife i might become, not from temptation of gain or power, or in surrender to love--i speak not in derision of the passion, since, like the admitted virtues, it is from god--nay, sheik, in illustration of what may otherwise be of uncertain meaning to him, tell prince mahommed i might become his wife could i by so doing save or help the religion i profess. then, if i brought him love, the sacrifice would rescue it from every taint. canst thou remember all this? and wilt thou deliver it truly?" the sheik's demeanor when she ended was greatly changed; his head was quite upon his breast; his attitude and whole appearance were disconsolate to the last degree. "alas, princess! how can i carry such speech to him, whose soul is consuming with hunger and thirst for thy favor?" "sheik," she said in pity, "no master, i think, had ever a more faithful servant than thou hast proved thyself. thy delivery of his message, could it be preserved, would be a model for heralds in the future." thereupon she arose, extended her hand to him, and he kissed it; and as she remained standing, he arose also. "be seated," she then said, and immediately that they were both in their chairs again, she took direction of the interview. "you asked me, sheik, if i had heard how othman wooed and won his malkatoon, and said it was a turkish romance. the othman, i take it, was founder of prince mahommed's house. now, if thou art not too weary, tell me the story." as the recital afforded him the opportunities to give poetic expression to his present feeling, he accepted the suggestion gladly, and, being in the right mood, was singularly effective. half the time listening she was in tears. it was past three o'clock when he finished. the audience then terminated. in no part of it had her manner been more gracious than when she conducted him along the portico, or her loveliness so overwhelming as when she bade him adieu at the head of the steps. standing between columns near the sedilium, she saw him gain his boat, take something from the sitting-box, step ashore again, and return to her gate, where he remained awhile pounding with a stone. the action was curious, and when he was out of sight rounding the water front of the promontory, she sent lysander to investigate. "the infidel has fixed a brass plate to the right-hand post of the kiosk," the ancient reported, in bad humor. "it may be a curse." the princess then called her attendants, and went with them to see the brass plate. there it was, an arm's reach overhead, and affixed firmly to the post, the corners turned down to serve the tacking. graven on its polished surface was the following: [illustration] wholly unable to decipher it, she sent for a dervish, long resident in the town, and returned to the portico. "princess," the old man said, having viewed the mysterious plate, "he who did the posting was a turk; and if he were aged, i should say thou hast entertained unaware the great amurath, sultan of sultans." "but the man was young." "then was he the son of amurath, prince mahommed." the princess turned pale. "how canst thou speak so positively?" she asked. "it is a _teukra_; in the whole world, o princess, there are but two persons with authority to make use of it." "and who are they?" "the sultan, and mahommed, next him in the succession." in the silence which ensued, lysander officiously proposed to remove the sign. the dervish interposed. "wilt thou hear me, o princess," he said, with a low reverence, "whether the plate proceeded from amurath or mahommed, or by the order of either of them, the leaving it behind signifies more than friendship or favor--it is a safeguard--a proclamation that thou and thy people and property here are under protection of the master of all the turks. were war to break out to-morrow, thou mightest continue in thy palace and garden with none to make thee afraid save thine own countrymen. wherefore consider well before acceding to the rancor of this ancient madman." thus the truth came to the princess irene. the singing sheik was prince mahommed! twice he had appeared before her; in the white castle once, and now in her palace; and having announced himself her lover, and proposed marriage, he intended her to know him, and also that he was not departing in despair. hence the plate on the gate! the circumstance was novel and surprising. her present feelings were too vague and uncertain for definition: but she was not angry. meantime mahommed, returning to the old castle, debated with himself. he loved the princess irene with the passion of a soul unused to denial or disappointment, and before he reached the roumelian hissar he swore a moslem oath to conquer constantinople, less for islam and glory, than for her. and from that hour the great accomplishment took hold of him to the exclusion of all else. at hissar he ascended the mountain, and, standing on the terreplein of the precipice in front of what is now robert college, he marked the narrowness of the bosphorus below, and thinking of the military necessity for a crossing defended on both shores, he selected a site for a castle on the european side opposite the white castle in asia. in due time we will have occasion to notice the creation of the walls and towers of the stupendous fortification yet standing between bebek and hissar, a monument to his energy and sagacity more imposing than anything left by him in constantinople. book iv the palace of blacherne chapter i the palace of blacherne the prince of india was not given to idle expectations. he might deceive others, but he seldom deceived himself. his experience served him prophetically in matters largely dependent on motives ordinarily influential with men. he was confident the emperor would communicate with him, and soon. the third day after the adventure at the white castle, a stranger, mounted, armed, and showily caparisoned, appeared at the prince's door under guidance of uel. in the study, to which he was hidden, he announced himself the bearer of a complimentary message from his majesty, concluding with an invitation to the palace of blacherne. if agreeable, his majesty would be pleased to receive the indian dignitary in the afternoon at three o'clock. an officer of the guard would be at the grand gate for his escort. the honor, needless to say, was accepted in becoming terms. when the prince descended to the hall of entry on the ground floor to take the sedan there, the unusual care given his attire was apparent. his beard was immaculately white. his turban of white silk, balloon in shape, and with a dazzle of precious stones in front, was a study. over a shirt of finest linen, with ruffles of lace at the throat and breast, there was a plain gown of heavy black velvet, buttoned at the neck, but open down to a yellow sash around the waist. the sash was complemented by a belt which was a mass of pearls in relief on a ground of gold embroidery. the belt-plate and crescented sword scabbard were aflame with brilliants on blue enamelling. his trousers, ample as a skirt, were of white satin overflowing at the ankles. pointed red slippers, sparkling with embroidery of small golden beads, completed the costume. the procession in the street was most striking. first nilo, as became a king of kash-cush, barbarously magnificent; the sedan next, on the shoulders of four carriers in white livery; at the rear, two domestics arrayed _a la cipango_, their strange blue garments fitting them so close as to impede their walking; yet as one of them bore his master's paper sunshade and ample cloak, and the other a cushion bloated into the proportions of a huge pillow, they were by no means wanting in self-importance. syama, similarly attired, though in richer material, walked at the side of the sedan, ready to open the door or answer such signal as he might receive from within. the appearance of this retinue in the streets was a show to the idle and curious, who came together as if rendered out of the earth, and in such numbers that before fairly reaching the thoroughfare by which the grand gate of blacherne was usually approached from the city side, the gilded box on the shoulders of its bearers looked, off a little way, not unlike a boat rocking in waves. fortunately the people started in good humor, and meeting nothing to break the mood, they permitted the prince to accomplish his journey without interruption. the companionship of the crowd was really agreeable to him; he hardly knew whether it were pleasanter to be able to excite such respectful curiosity than to gratify it successfully. it might have been otherwise had lael been with him. the very high residence, as the palace of blacherne was generally spoken of by greeks, was well known to the prince of india. the exclamation with which he settled himself in the sedan at setting out from his house--"again, again, o blacherne!"--disclosed a previous personal acquaintance with the royal property. and over and over again on the way he kept repeating, "o blacherne! beautiful blacherne! bloom the roses as of old in thy gardens? do the rivulets in thy alabaster courts still run singing to the mosaic angels on the walls?" as to the date of these recollections, if, as the poets tell us, time is like a flowing river, and memory a bridge for the conveniency of the soul returning to its experiences, how far had this man to travel the structure before reaching the blacherne he formerly knew? over what tremendous spaces between piers did it carry him! the street traversed by the prince carried him first to the grate of st. peter on the golden horn, and thence, almost parallel with the city wall, to balat, a private landing belonging to the emperor, at present known as the gate of blacherne. at the edge of an area marble paved, the people stopped, it being the limit of their privilege. crossing the pavement, the visitor was set down in front of the grand gate of the very high residence. history, always abominating lapses, is yet more tender of some places than others. there, between flanking towers, an iron-plated valve strong enough to defy attack by any of the ancient methods was swung wide open, ready nevertheless to be rolled to at set of sun. the guard halted the prince, and an officer took his name, and apologizing for a brief delay, disappeared with it. alighting from his sedan, the worthy proceeded to take observation and muse while waiting. the paved area on which he stood was really the bottom of a well-defined valley which ran off and up irregularly toward the southeast, leaving an ascent on its right memorable as the seventh hill of constantinople. a stone wall marked here and there by sentinel boxes, each with a red pennon on its top, straggled down along the foot of the ascent to the grand gate. there between octangular towers loopholed and finished battlement style was a covered passage suggestive of egypt. two victories in high relief blew trumpets at each other across the entrance front. ponderous benches of porphyry, polished smooth by ages of usage, sat one on each side for the guards; fellows in helmets of shining brass, cuirasses of the same material inlaid with silver, greaves, and shoes stoutly buckled. those of them sitting sprawled their bulky limbs broadly over the benches. the few standing seemed like selected giants, with blond beards and blue eyes, and axes at least three spans in length along their whetted edges. the prince recognized the imperial guards--danes, saxons, germans, and swiss--their nationalities merged into the corps entitled _varangians_. conscious, but unmindful of their stare, he kept his stand, and swept the hill from bottom to top, giving free rein to memory. in a. d.--he remembered the year and the circumstance well--an earthquake threw down the wall then enclosing the city. theodosius restored it, leaving the whole height outside of this northwestern part a preserve wooded, rocky, but with one possession which had become so infinitely sanctified in byzantine estimation as to impart the quality to all its appurtenances, that was the primitive but very holy church of blacherne, dedicated to the virgin. near the church there was a pleasure house to which the emperors, vainly struggling to escape the ceremonies the clergy had fastened upon them to the imbitterment of life, occasionally resorted, and down on the shore of the golden horn a zoological garden termed the cynegion had been established. the latter afterwhile came to have a gallery in which the public was sometimes treated to games and combats between lions, tigers, and elephants. there also criminals and heretics were frequently carried and flung to the beasts. nor did the prince fail to recall that in those cycles the sovereigns resided preferably in the bucoleon, eastwardly by the sea of marmora. he remembered some of them as acquaintances with whom he had been on close terms--justinian, heraclius, irene, and the porphyrogentes. the iconoclastic masters of that cluster of magnificent tenements, the bucoleon, had especial claims upon his recollection. had he not incited them to many of their savageries? they were incidents, it is true, sadly out of harmony with his present dream; still their return now was with a certain fluttering of the spirit akin to satisfaction, for the victims in nearly every case had been christians, and his business of life then was vengeance for the indignities and sufferings inflicted on his countrymen. with a more decided flutter, he remembered a scheme he put into effect just twenty years after the restoration of the wall by theodosius. in the character of a pious christianized israelite resident in jerusalem, he pretended to have found the vestments of the holy mother of christ. the discovery was of course miraculous, and he reported it circumstantially to the patriarchs galvius and candidus. for the glory of god and the exaltation of the faith, they brought the relics to constantinople. there, amidst most solemn pomp, the emperor assisting, they were deposited in the church of saints peter and mark, to be transferred a little later to their final resting-place in the holier church of the virgin of blacherne. there was a world of pious propriety in the idea that as the vestments belonged to the mother of god they would better become her own house. the _himation_ or _maphorion_, as the robe of the virgin was called, brought the primitive edifice in the woods above the cynegion a boundless increase of sanctity, while the discoverer received the freedom of the city, the reverence of the clergy, and the confidence of the basileus. nor did the prodigious memory stay there. the hill facing the city was of three terraces. on the second one, half hidden among cypress and plane trees, he beheld a building, low, strong, and, from his direction, showing but one window. some sixteen years previous, during his absence in cipango, a fire had destroyed the church of the virgin, and owing to the poverty of the people and empire, the edifice had not been rebuilt. this lesser unpretentious structure was the chapel of blacherne which the flames had considerately spared. he recognized it instantly, and remembered it as full of inestimable relics--amongst them the _himation_, considered indestructible; the holy cross which heraclius, in the year , had brought from jerusalem, and delivered to sergius; and the _panagia blachernitissa_, or all holy banner of the image of the virgin. then rose another reminiscence, and though to reach him it had to fly across a chasm of hundreds of years, it presented itself with the distinctness of an affair of yesterday. in , heraclius being emperor, a legion of avars and persians sacked scutari, on the asiatic side of the bosphorus, and laid siege to constantinople. the byzantines were in awful panic; and they would have yielded themselves had not sergius the patriarch been in control. with a presence of mind equal to the occasion, he brought the _panagia_ forth, and supported by an army of clerics and monks, traversed the walls, waving the all holy banner. a volley of arrows from invisible archers fell upon the audacious infidels, and the havoc was dreadful; they fled, and their prince, the khagan, fled with them, declaring he had seen a woman in shining garments but of awful presence on the walls. the woman was the holy mother; and with a conceit easily mistaken for gratitude, the byzantines declared their capital thenceforward guarded by god. when they went out to the church in the woods and found it unharmed by the enemy, they were persuaded the mother had adopted them; in return, what could they else than adopt her? pisides, the poet, composed a hymn, to glorify her. the church consecrated the day of the miraculous deliverance a fete day observable by greeks forever. the emperor removed the old building, and on its site raised another of a beauty more expressive of devotion. to secure it from ravage and profanation, he threw a strong wall around the whole venerated hill, and by demolishing the ancient work of theodosius, made blacherne a part of the city. by and by the church required enlargement, and it was then cruci-formed by the addition of transepts right and left. still later, a chapel was erected specially for the relics and the all holy banner. this was contiguous to the church, and besides being fireproof, it covered a spring of pure water, afterwards essential in many splendid ceremonies civil as well as religious. the chamber of relics was prohibited to all but the basileus. he alone could enter it. by great favor, the prince of india was once permitted to look into the room, and he remembered it large and dimly lighted, its shadows alive, however, with the glitter of silver and gold in every conceivable form, offered there as the wise men laid their gifts before the child in the cave of the nativity. again and again the church was burned, yet the chapel escaped. it seemed an object of divine protection. the sea might deliver tempests against the seven hills, earthquakes shake the walls down and crack the hanging dome of st. sophia, cinders whiten paths from the porphyry column over by the hippodrome to the upper terrace of blacherne; yet the chapel escaped--yet the holy fountain in its crypt flowed on purer growing as the centuries passed. the prince, whose memories we are but weaving into words, did not wonder at the increase of veneration attaching to the chapel and its precious deposits--manuscripts, books, bones, flags, things personal to the apostles, the saints, the son and his mother, parings of their nails, locks of their hair, spikes and splinters of the cross itself--he did not wonder at it, or smile, for he knew there is a devotional side to every man which wickedness may blur but cannot obliterate. he himself was going about the world convinced that the temple of solomon was the house of god. the guards sprawling on the benches kept staring at him; one of them let his axe fall without so much as attracting the prince's attention. his memory, with a hold on him too firm to be disturbed by such trifles, insisted on its resurrectionary work, and returned him to the year . constantinople was again besieged, this time by a horde from the russian wilderness under the chiefs dir and askold. they had passed the upper sea in hundreds of boats, and disembarking on the european shore, marched down the bosphorus, leaving all behind them desolate. photius was then patriarch. when the fleet was descried from the walls, he prevailed on the emperor to ask the intervention of the virgin. the _maphorion_ or sacred robe was brought out, and in presence of the people on their knees, the clergy singing the hymn of pisides, the holy man plunged it into the waves. a wind arose under which the water in its rocky trough was as water in a shaken bowl. the ships of the invaders sunk each other. not one survived. of the men, those who lived came up out of the vortexes praying to be taken to the church of blacherne for baptism. this was two hundred years and more after the first deliverance of the city, and yet the mother was faithful to her chosen!--constantinople was still the guarded of god!--the _penagia_ was still the all holy! having repulsed the muscovite invasion, what excuse for his blasphemy would there be left the next to challenge its terrors? the prince of india saw the blackened walls of the burned church, an appealing spectacle which the surrounding trees tried to cover with their foliage, but could not; then he lifted his eyes to the palace upon the third terrace. to the hour decay sets in the touches of time are usually those of an artist who loves his subject, and wishes merely to soften or ennoble its expression. so had he dealt with the very high residence. it began in the low ground down by the cynegion, and arose with the city wall, which was in fact its southwestern front. though always spoken of in the singular, like the bucoleon, it was a collection of palaces, vast, irregular, and declarative of the taste of the different eras they severally memorialized. the spaces between them formed courts and _places_ under cover; yet as the architects had adhered to the idea of a main front toward the northeast, there appeared a certain unity of design in the structures. this main front, now under the prince's view, was frequently broken, advancing here, retreating there; one section severely plain and sombre; another relieved by porticos with figured friezes resting on tall columns. the irregularities were pleasing; some of them were stately; and they were all helped not a little by domes and pavilions without which the roof lines would have been monotonous. lifting his gaze up the ascent from the low ground, it rested presently on a tower built boldly upon the heraclian wall. this was the highest pinnacle of the palace, first to attract the observer, longest to hold his attention. no courier was required to tell its history to him through whose eyes we are now looking--it was the tower of isaac angelus. how clearly its outlines cut the cloudless sky! how strong it seemed up there, as if built by giants! yet with windows behind balconies, how airy and graceful withal! the other hills of the city, and the populated valleys between the hills, spread out below it, like an unrolled map. the warders of the bucoleon, or what is now point serail, the home-returning mariner shipping oars off scutari, the captain of the helmeted column entering the golden gate down by the seven towers, the insolent genoese on the wharves of galata, had only to look up, and lo! the perch of isaac. and when, as often must have happened, the privileged lord himself sat midafternoons on the uppermost balcony of the tower, how the prospect soothed the fever of his spirit! if he were weary of the city, there was the marmora, always ready to reiterate the hues of the sky, and in it the isles of the princes, their verdurous shades permeated with dreamful welcome to the pleasure-seeker as well as the monk; or if he longed for a further flight, old asia made haste with enticing invitation to some of the villas strewing its littoral behind the isles; and yonder, to the eye fainting in the distance, scarce more than a pale blue boundary cloud, the mountain beloved by the gods, whither they were wont to assemble at such times as they wished to learn how it fared with ilium and the sons of priam, or to enliven their immortality with loud symposia. a prospect so composed would seem sufficient, if once seen, to make a blind man's darkness perpetually luminous. sometimes, however, the superlative magnate preferred the balcony on the western side of the tower. there he could sit in the shade, cooled by waftures from a wide campania southward, or, peering over the balustrade, watch the peasantry flitting through the breaks of the kosmidion, now the purlieus of eyoub. again the prince was carried back through centuries. it had been determined to build at blacherne; but the hill was steep. how could spaces be gained for foundations, for courts and gardens? the architects pondered the problem. at last one of bolder genius came forward. we will accept the city wall for a western front, he said, and build from it; and for levels, allow us to commence at the foot of the height, and rear arches upon arches. the proposal was accepted; and thereafter for years the quarter was cumbered with brick and skeleton frames, and workingmen were numerous and incessantly busy as colonized ants. thus the ancient pleasure house disappeared, and the first formal high residence took its place; at the same time the bucoleon, for so many ages the glory of constantinople, was abandoned by its masters. who was the first permanent occupant of the palace of blacherne? the memory, theretofore so prompt, had now no reply. no matter--the prince recalled sessions had with angelus on the upper balcony yonder. he remembered them on account of his host one day saying: "here i am safe." the next heard of him he was a captive and blind. passing on rapidly, he remembered the appearance of peter the hermit in the gorgeous reception room of the palace in . quite as distinctly, he also remembered the audience alexis i. tendered godfrey of bouillon and his barons in the same high residence. what a contrast the host and his guests presented that day! the latter were steel clad from head to foot and armed for battle, while alexis was a spectacle of splendor unheard of in the barbarous west. how the preachers and eunuchs in the silk-gowned train of the one trembled as the redoubtables of the west mangled the velvet carpets with their cruel spurs! how peculiarly the same redoubtables studied the pearls on the yellow stole of the wily comnene and the big jewels in his basilean mitre--as if they were counting and weighing them mentally, preliminary to casting up at leisure a total of value! and the table ware--this plate and yon bowl--were they really gold or some cunning deception? the greeks were so treacherous! and when the guests were gone, the greeks, on their part, were not in the least surprised at the list of spoons and cups subtly disappeared--gifts, they supposed, intended by the noble "crosses" for the most holy altar in jerusalem! still other remembrances of the prince revived at sight of the palace--many others--amongst them, how the varangians beat the boastful montferrat and the burly count of flanders in the assault of , specially famous for the gallantry of old dandolo, operating with his galleys on the side of the golden horn. brave fellows, those varangians! was the corps well composed now as then? he glanced at the lusty examples before him on the stone benches, thinking they might shortly have to answer the question. these reminiscences, it must not be forgotten, were of brief passage with the prince, much briefer than the time taken in writing them. they were interrupted by the appearance of a military official whose uniform and easy manner bespoke palace life. he begged to be informed if he had the honor of addressing the prince of india; and being affirmatively assured, he announced himself sent to conduct him to his majesty. the hill was steep, and the way somewhat circuitous; did the prince need assistance? the detention, he added, was owing to delay in getting intelligence of the prince's arrival to his majesty, who had been closely engaged, arranging for certain ceremonies which were to occur in the evening. perhaps his majesty had appointed the audience imagining the ceremonies might prove entertaining to the prince. these civilities, and others, were properly responded to, and presently the cortege was in motion. the lower terrace was a garden of singular perfection. on the second terrace, the party came to the ruined church where, during a halt, the officer told of the fire. his majesty had registered a vow, he said, at the end of the story, to rebuild the edifice in a style superior to any former restoration. the prince, while listening, observed the place. excepting the church, it was as of old. there the grove of cypresses, very ancient, and tall and dark. there, too, the chapel of purplish stone, and at one side of it the sentry box and bench, and what seemed the identical detail of varangians on duty. there the enclosed space between the edifices, and the road across the pavement to the next terrace only a little deeper worn. there the arched gateway of massive masonry through which the road conducted, the carving about it handsome as ever; and there, finally, from the base of the chapel, the brook, undiminished in volume and song, ran off out of sight into the grove, an old acquaintance of the prince's. moving on through the arched way, the guide led up to the third and last terrace. near the top there was a cut, and on its right embankment a party of workmen spreading and securing a canopy of red cloth. "observe, o prince," the officer said. "from this position, if i mistake not, you will witness the ceremony i mentioned as in preparation." the guest had time to express his gratification, when the palace of blacherne, the very high residence, burst upon him in long extended view, a marvel of imperial prodigality and byzantine genius. chapter ii the audience the sedan was set down before a marble gate on the third terrace. "my duty is hardly complete. suffer me to conduct you farther," the officer said, politely, as the prince stepped from the box. "and my servants?" "they will await you." the speakers were near the left corner of a building which projected considerably from the general front line of the palace. the wall, the gateway, and the building were of white marble smoothly dressed. after a few words with syama, the prince followed his guide into a narrow enclosure on the right of which there was a flight of steps, and on the left a guard house. ascending the steps, the two traversed a passage until they came to a door. "the waiting-room. enter," said the conductor. four heavily curtained windows lighted the apartment. in the centre there were a massive table, and, slightly removed from it, a burnished copper brazier. bright-hued rugs covered the floor, and here and there stools carven and upholstered were drawn against the painted walls. the officer, having seen his charge comfortably seated, excused himself and disappeared. hardly was he gone when two servants handsomely attired came in with refreshments--fruits in natural state, fruits candied, sweetened bread, sherbet, wine and water. a chief followed them, and, with much humility of manner, led the prince to a seat at the table, and invited him to help himself. the guest was then left alone; and while he ate and drank he wondered at the stillness prevalent; the very house seemed in awe. ere long another official entered, and after apologizing for introducing himself, said: "i am dean of the court. in the absence of my lord phranza, it has fallen to me to discharge, well as i can, the duties of grand chamberlain." the prince, observant of the scrutinizing glance the dean gave his person, acknowledged the honor done him, and the pleasure he derived from the acquaintance. the dean ought to be happy; he had great fame in the city and abroad as a most courteous, intelligent, and faithful servant; there was no doubt he deserved preeminently the confidence his royal master reposed in him. "i am come, o prince," the old functionary said, after thanks for the friendly words, "to ascertain if you are refreshed, and ready for the audience." "i am ready." "let us to his majesty then. if i precede you, i pray pardon." drawing the portiere aside, the dean held it for the other's passage. they entered an extensive inner court, surrounded on three sides by a gallery resting on pillars. on the fourth side, a magnificent staircase ascended to a main landing, whence, parting right and left, it terminated in the gallery. floor, stairs, balustrading, pillars, everything here was red marble flooded with light from a circular aperture in the roof open to the sky. along the stairs, at intervals, officers armed and in armor were stationed, and keeping their positions faced inwardly, they seemed like statues. other armed men were in the galleries. the silence was impressive. coming presently to an arched door, the prince glanced into a deep chamber, and at the further end of it beheld the emperor seated in a chair of state on a dais curtained and canopied with purple velvet. "take heed now, o prince," said the dean, in a low voice. "yonder is his majesty. do thou imitate me in all things. come." with this kindly caution the dean led into the chamber of public audience. just within the door, he halter, crossed hands upon his breast, and dropped to his knees, his eyes downcast; rising, he kept on about halfway to the dais, and again knelt; when near his person's length from the dais, he knelt and fully prostrated himself. the prince punctiliously executed every motion, except that at the instant of halting the last time he threw both hands up after the manner of orientals. a velvet carpet of the accepted imperial color stretched from door to dais greatly facilitated the observances. a statuesque soldier, with lance and shield, stood at the left of the dais, a guard against treachery; by the chair, bare-headed, bare-legged, otherwise a figure in a yellow tunic lightly breastplated, appeared the sword-bearer, his slippers stayed with bands of gold, a blade clasped to his body by the left forearm, the hilt above his shoulder; and spacious as the chamber was, a row of dignitaries civil, military, and ecclesiastical lined the walls each in prescribed regalia. the hush already noticed was observable here, indicative of rigid decorum and awful reverence. "rise, prince of india," the emperor said, without movement. the visitor obeyed. the last of the palaeologae was in basilean costume; a golden circlet on his head brilliantly jewelled and holding a purple velvet cap in place; an overgown of the material of the cap but darker in tint, and belted at the waist; a mantle stiff with embroidery of pearls hanging by narrow bands so as to drop from the shoulder over the breast and back, leaving the neck bare; an ample lap-robe of dark purple cloth sparkling with precious stones covering his nether limbs. the chair was square in form without back or arms; its front posts twined and intricately inlaid with ivory and silver, and topped each with a golden cone for hand-rest. the bareness of the neck was relieved by four strings of pearls dropped from the circlet two on a side, and drawn from behind the ears forward so as to lightly tip the upper edge of the mantle. the right hand rested at the moment on the right cone of the chair; the left was free. the attitude of the figure thus presented was easy and unconstrained, the countenance high and noble, and altogether the guest admitted to himself that he had seldom been introduced to royalty more really imposing. there was hardly an instant allowed for these observations. to set his guest at ease, constantine continued: "the way to our door is devious and upward. i hope it has not too severely tried you." "your majesty, were the road many times more trying i would willingly brave it to be the recipient of honors and attentions which have made the emperor of constantinople famous in many far countries, and not least in mine." the courtierly turn of the reply did not escape the emperor. it had been strange if he had not put the character of his guest to question; indeed, an investigation had proceeded by his order, with the invitation to audience as a result; and now the self-possession of the stranger, together with his answer, swept the last doubt from, the imperial mind. an attendant, responding to a sign, came forward. "bring me wine," and as the servant disappeared with the order, constantine again addressed his visitor. "you maybe a brahman or an islamite," he said, with a pleasant look to cover any possible mistake: "in either case, o prince, i take it for granted that the offer of a draught of chian will not be resented." "i am neither a mohammedan, nor a devotee of the gentle son of maya. i am not even a hindoo in religion. my faith leads me to be thankful for all god's gifts to his creatures. i will take the cup your majesty deigns to propose." the words were spoken with childlike simplicity of manner; yet nowhere in these pages have we had a finer example of the subtlety which, characteristic of the speaker, seemed inspiration rather than study. he knew from general report how religion dominated his host, and on the spur of the moment, thought to pique curiosity with respect to his own faith; seeing, as he fancied, a clear path to another audience, with ampler opportunity to submit and discuss the idea of universal brotherhood in god. the glance with which he accompanied assent to the cup was taken as a mere accentuation of gratitude; it was, however, for discovery. had the emperor noticed the declaration of what he was not? did his intelligence suggest how unusual it was for an indian to be neither a mohammedan, nor a brahman, nor even a buddhist in religion? he saw a sudden lifting of the brows, generally the preliminary of a question; he even made an answer ready; but the other's impulse seemed to spend itself in an inquiring look, which, lingering slightly, might mean much or nothing. the prince resolved to wait. constantine, as will be seen presently, did observe the negations, and was moved to make them the subject of remark at the moment; but inordinately sensitive respecting his own religious convictions, he imagined others like himself in that respect, and upon the scruple, for which the reader will not fail to duly credit him, deferred inquiry until the visitor was somewhat better understood. just then the cupbearer appeared with the wine; a girlish lad he was, with long blond curls. kneeling before the dais, he rested a silver platter and the liquor sparkling on it in a crystal decanter upon his right knee, waiting the imperial pleasure. taking the sign given him, the dean stepped forward and filled the two cups of chased gold also on the platter, and delivered them. then the emperor held his cup up while he said in a voice sufficiently raised for general hearing: "prince of india, i desired your presence to-day the rather to discharge myself of obligations for important assistance rendered my kinswoman, the princess irene of therapia, during her detention at the white castle; a circumstance of such late occurrence it must be still fresh in your memory. by her account the governor was most courteous and hospitable, and exerted himself to make her stay in his stronghold agreeable as possible. something truly extraordinary, considering the forbidding exterior of the house, and the limited means of entertainment it must have to offer, she declared he succeeded in converting what threatened to be a serious situation into an adventure replete with pleasant surprises. a delegate is now at the castle assuring the governor of my appreciation of his friendly conduct. by her account, also, i am bounden to you, prince, scarcely less than to him." the gravity of the visitor at hearing this was severely attacked. great as was his self-control, he smiled at thought of the dilemma the governor was in, listening to a speech of royal thanks and receiving rich presents in lieu of his young master mahommed. when the envoy returned and reported, if perchance he should describe the turk whom he found in actual keeping of the castle, the discrepancy between his picture of the man and that of the princess would be both mysterious and remarkable. "your majesty," the prince returned, with a deprecating gesture, "the storm menaced me quite as much as the princess, and calls for confession of my inability to see wherein i rendered her service free of regard for myself. indeed, it is my duty to inform your majesty, all these noble witnesses hearing me, that i am more beholden to your noble kinswoman for help and deliverance in the affair than she can be to me. but for the courage and address, not to mention the dignity and force with which she availed herself of her royal relationship, resolving what was at first a simple invitation to refuge into a high treaty between the heads of two great powers, i and my daughter"-- "daughter, said you?" "yes, your majesty--heaven has so favored me--i, my daughter, and my frightened boatmen would have been committed to the river near the castle, without recourse except in prayer to heaven. nay, your majesty, have i permission to say on, charity had never a sweeter flowering than when the princess remembered to take the stranger under her protection. i am past the age of enthusiasm and extravagance--my beard and dimming eyes prove the admission--yet i declare, weighing each word, she has the wit, the spirit, the goodness, the loveliness to be the noblest of queens to the best of kings; and fails she such choice, it will be because destiny has been struck by some unaccountable forgetfulness." by this time the courtiers, drawn in from the walls, composed a very brilliant circle around the throne, each one curious to hear the stranger as he had been to see him; and they were quick to point his last sentence; for most of them had been with the emperor in the voyage to therapia, which was still a theme of wager and wrangle scarcely less interesting than in its first hour. by one impulse they ventured a glance at the royal face, seeking a revelation; but the countenance was steady as a mask. "the encomium is well bestowed, and approves thy experience, prince, as a reader of women," constantine said, with just enough fervor. "henceforth i shall know the degree of trust to repose in thy judgment, other problems as difficult being in controversy. nevertheless, is the lady to be believed, then, o prince, i repeat my acknowledgment of indebtedness. it pleases me to greatly estimate thy influence and good judgment happily exerted. mayst thou live long, prince of india, and always find thyself as now among friends who charge themselves to be watchful for opportunities to befriend thee." he raised the cup. "it is your majesty's pleasure," the guest replied, and they drank together. "a seat for the prince of india," the emperor next directed. the chair, when brought, was declined. "in my palace--for at home i exercise the functions of a king--it often falls to me to give audiences; if public, we call them _durbars;_ and then an inferior may not sit in my presence. the rule, like all governing the session, is of my own enactment. i see plainly how greatly your majesty designs to heap me with honors; and if i dare decline this one, it is not from disposition to do a teacher's part, but from habit which has the sanction of heredity, and the argument self addressed: shall i despise my own ordinances? god forbid!" a murmur from the concourse was distinctly audible, which the dean interpreted by repeated affirmative nods. in other words, by this stroke the able visitor won the court as he had already won its head; insomuch that the most doubting of the doubters would not have refused to certify him on belief the very prince of india he claimed to be. the emperor, on his part, could not but defer to scruples so cogently and solemnly put; at the same time, out of his very certainty respecting the guest, he passed to a question which in probability the reader has been for some time entertaining. "the makers of a law should be first to observe it; for having done so, they then have god's license to exert themselves in its enforcement; and when one is found observant of a principle which has root so perceptibly in conscience, to deny him his pleasure were inexcusable. have thy will, prince." the applause which greeted the decision of his majesty was hardly out of ear when he proceeded: "again i pray you, sir guest--i greatly misapprehend the travellers who tell of india, if the people of that venerable country are not given to ceremonials religious as well as secular. many of our own observances of a sacred nature are traceable to study and discernment of the good effects of form in worship, and since some of them are unquestionably borrowed from temples of the pagan gods, yet others may be of hindoo origin. who shall say? wherefore, speaking generally, i should fear to ask you to any of our church mysteries which i did not know were purely greek. one such we have this evening. we call it _pannychides_. its principal feature is a procession of monastic brethren from the holy houses of the city and islands--all within the jurisdiction of our eastern church, which, please god, is of broader lines than our state. the fathers have been assembling for the celebration several days. they will form in the city at set of sun, throwing the march into the night. here, within our grounds, more particularly at the door of the chapel of our holy virgin of blacherne, i will meet them. they will pass the night in prayer, an army on bended knees, sorrowing for the pains of our saviour in gethsemane. i was uncertain what faith you profess; yet, prince, i thought--forgive me, if it was an error--a sight of the spirit of our churchmen as it will be manifested on this occasion might prove interesting to you; so i have taken the liberty of ordering a stand erected for your accommodation at a position favorable to witnessing the procession in movement up the terraces. no one has seen the spectacle without realizing as never before the firmness of the hold christ has taken upon the souls of men." the last words startled the prince. christ's hold upon the souls of men! the very thing he wanted to learn, and, if possible, measure. a cloud of thoughts fell about him; yet he kept clear head, and answered quietly: "your majesty has done me great kindness. i am already interested in the mystery. since we cannot hope ever to behold god with these mortal eyes, the nearest amend for the deprivation is the privilege of seeing men in multitudes demonstrating their love of him." constantine's eyes lingered on the prince's face. the utterances attracted him. the manner was so artfully reverential as not to leave a suspicion of the guile behind it. going down great galleries, every one has had his attention suddenly arrested; he pauses, looks, and looks again, then wakes to find the attraction was not a picture, but only a flash within his own mind. so, with the guest before him, the emperor was thinking of the man rather than seeing him--thinking of him with curiosity fully awakened, and a desire to know him better. and had he followed up the desire, he would have found its source in the idea that india was a region in which reflection and psychological experiment had been exhausted--where if one appeared with a thought it turned old ere it could be explained--where wisdom had fructified until there was no knowledge more--where the teaching capacity was all there was remaining. that is to say, in the day of the last byzantine emperor, centuries ago, humanity in india was, as now, a clock stopped, but stopped in the act of striking, leaving a glory in the air imaginable like the continuing sound of hushed cathedral bells. "prince," he at length said, "you will remain here until the procession is announced at the grand gate. i will then give you a guide and a guard. our steward has orders to look after your comfort." turning then to the acting chamberlain, he added: "good dean, have we not a little time in which to hear our guest further?" "your majesty, an hour at least." "you hear, o prince? provided always that it be not to your displeasure, tell me what i am to understand by the disclaimer which, broadly interpreted, leaves you either a jew or a christian?" chapter iii the new faith proclaimed the question came earlier than the prince expected, and in different form. those in position to observe his face saw it turn a trifle pale, and he hesitated, and glanced around uneasily, as though not altogether assured of his footing. this might have been by-play; if so, it was successful; every countenance not sympathetic was serious. "your majesty's inquiry must be for information. i am too humble for an unfriendly design on the part of one so exalted as the emperor of constantinople. it might be otherwise if i represented a church, a denomination, or a recognized religion; as it is, my faith is my own." "but bethink thee, prince, thou mayst have the truth--the very god's truth," constantine interposed, with kindly intent. "we all know thy country hath been the cradle of divine ideas. so, speak, and fear not." the glance the emperor received was winsomely grateful. "indeed, your majesty, indeed i have need of good countenance. the question put me has lured more men to bloody graves than fire, sword and wave together. and then why i believe as i believe demands time in excess of what we have; and i am the bolder in this because in limiting me your majesty limits yourself. so i will now no more than define my faith. but first, it does not follow from my disclaimer that i can only be a jew or a christian; for as air is a vehicle for a multitude of subtleties in light, faith in like manner accommodates a multitude of opinions." while speaking, the prince's voice gradually gained strength; his color returned, and his eyes enlarged and shone with strange light. now his right hand arose, the fingers all closed except the first one, and it was long and thin, and he waved it overhead, like a conjuring wand. if the concourse had been unwilling to hear him, they could not have turned away. "i am not a hindoo, my lord; because i cannot believe men can make their own gods." the father confessor to the emperor, at the left of the dais in a stole of gold and crimson cloth, smiled broadly. "i am not a buddhist," the prince continued; "because i cannot believe the soul goes to nothingness after death." the father confessor clapped his hands. "i am not a confucian; because i cannot reduce religion to philosophy or elevate philosophy into religion." the blood of the audience began to warm. "i am not a jew; because i believe god loves all peoples alike, or if he makes distinctions, it is for righteousness' sake." here the chamber rang with clapping. "i am not an islamite; because when i raise my eyes to heaven, i cannot tolerate sight of a man standing between me and god--no, my lord, not though he be a prophet." the hit was palpable, and from hate of the old enemy, the whole assemblage broke into an uproar of acclamation. only the emperor kept his gravity. leaning heavily on the golden cone at the right of his chair, his chin depressed, his eyes staring, scarcely breathing, he waited, knowing, that having gone so far, there was before the speaker an unavoidable climax; and seeing it in his face, and coming, he presently aroused, and motioned for silence. "i am not"-- the prince stopped, but when the hush was deepest went on--"i am not a christian; because--because i believe--god is god." the father confessor's hands were ready to clap, but they stayed so; the same spell took hold of the bystanders, except that they looked at the emperor, and he alone seemed to comprehend the concluding phrase. he settled back easily in his seat, saying, "thy faith then is--" "god!" the monosyllable was the prince's. and with clear sight of the many things reprobated--images, saints, the canonized, even the worship of christ and the holy mother--with clear sight also of the wisdom which in that presence bade the guest stop with the mighty name--at the same time more curious than ever to hear in full discourse the man who could reduce religion to a single word and leave it comprehensible, constantine drew a breath of relief, and said, smiling, "of a surety, o prince, there was never a faith which, with such appearance of simplicity in definition, is capable of such infinity of meaning. i am full of questions; and these listening, my lords of the court, are doubtless in a similar mood. what sayest thou, o my most orthodox confessor?" the father bowed until the hem of his blazing stole overlaid the floor. "your majesty, we too are believers in god; but we also believe in much beside; so, if but for comparison of creeds, which is never unprofitable while in good nature, i should like to hear the noble and fair speaking guest further." "and you, my lords?" the throng around answered, "yes, yes!" "we will have it so then. look, good logothete, for the nearest day unoccupied." a handsome man of middle age approached the dais, and opening a broad-backed book, evidently the record of the royal appointments, turned a number of leaves, and replied: "your majesty, two weeks from tomorrow." "note the same set aside for the prince of india.-dost hear, prince?" the latter lowered his face the better to conceal his pleasure. "all days are alike to me," he answered. "in this our palace, then--two weeks from to-morrow at the hour of noon. and now"--the rustle and general movement of the courtiers was instantly stayed--"and now, prince, didst thou not speak of exercising the functions of a king at home? thy capital must be in india, but where, pray? and how callest thou thyself? and why is this city so fortunate as to have attracted thy wandering feet? it is not every king so his own master as to turn traveller, and go about making study of the world; although, i admit, it would be better could every king do so." these questions were rapidly put, but as the prince was prepared for them, he responded pleasantly: "in answering the questions your majesty now honors me with. i am aware how serious the mistake would be did i think of your curiosity alone. a most excellent quality in a great man is patience. alas, that it should be one of the most abused! ... among the oldest of hindoo titles is _rajah_. it means king rather than prince, and i was born to it. your majesty may have heard of oodeypoor, the bosom jewel of rajpootana, the white rose just bloomed of indian cities. at the foot of a spur of the arawalli mountains, a river rises, and on its right bank reposes the city; from which, southeast a little way, a lake lies outspread, like a mirror fallen face upward. and around the lake are hills, tall and broken as these of the bosphorus; and seen from the water the hills are masses of ivy and emerald woods thickly sprinkled with old fortresses and temples, and seven-roofed red pagodas, each the home of a great gold-decked buddha, with lesser buddhas in family. and in the lake are islands all palaces springing from the water line in open arches, and sculptured walls, and towered gates; and of still days their wondrous cunning in the air is renewed afresh in the waveless depths below them. if they are glorious then, what are they when reconstructed for festal nights in shining lamps? for be it said, my lord, if a stranger in the walls of this centre of empire may speak a word which has the faintest savor of criticism, the indian genius analyzed beauty before there was a west, and taking suggestions from spark and dewdrop, applied them to architecture. smile not, i pray, for you may see the one in the lamp multiplied for outline traceries, and the other in the fountain, the cascade, and the limpid margin at the base of walls. or if still you think me exaggerating, is not the offence one to be lightly forgiven where the offender is telling of his birthplace? in one of the palaces of that lake of palaces i was born, the oldest son of the rajah of meywar, oodeypoor his capital. in these words, which i hope may be kindly judged, your majesty will find answers to one, if not two of the questions you were pleased to ask me--why i am here? and why making study of the world? will your majesty pardon my boldness, if i suggest that a reply to those inquiries would be better at the audience set for me next? i fear it is too long for telling now." "be it so," said constantine, "yet a hint of it may not be amiss. it may set us to thinking; and, prince, a mind prepared for an idea is like ground broken and harrowed for seed." the prince hesitated. "your majesty--my lord"--he then said firmly, "the most sorrowful of men are those with conceptions too great for them, and which they must carry about with nothing better to sustain their sinking spirits than a poor hope of having them one day adopted; for until that day they are like a porter overladen and going from house to house unknowing the name of the owner of his burden or where to look for him. i am such an unfortunate.... oodeypoor, you must understand, is more than comely to the eye of a native; it is a city where all religions are tolerated. the taing, the brahman, the hindoo, the mohammedan, the buddhist live together there, protected and in peace, with their worship and houses of worship; nor is there any shutting of mouths, because controversy long since attained finality amongst them; or perhaps it were better saying, because opinions there have now their recognized grooves, and run in them from generation to generation--opinions to which men are born as to their property, only without right of change or modification; neither can they break away from them. there is no excuse if an intelligent man in such a situation does not comprehend all the religions thus in daily practice; or if one does comprehend them he should not flatter himself possessed of any superior intellect.... the rajah, my father, died, and i mounted his silver throne, and for ten years administered justice in the hall of durbars to which he had been used, he and his father's father, children of the sun, most pure of blood. by that time i was of mature mind, and having given myself up to study, came to believe there is but one doctrine--principle--call it what you will, my lord--but one of heavenly origin--one primarily comprehensible by all--too simple indeed to satisfy the egotism of men; wherefore, without rejecting, they converted it into a foundation, and built upon it each according to his vanity, until, in course of ages, the foundation was overlaid with systems of belief, childish, unnatural, ridiculous, indecent, or else too complicated for common understanding"-- "this principle--what is it, prince?" constantine asked nervously. "your majesty, i have already once named it." "mean you god?" "and now, my lord, thou hast pronounced it." the stillness in the chamber was very deep. every man seemed to be asking, what next? "one day, your majesty--it was in my tenth year of government--a function was held in a tent erected for the purpose--a _shamiana_ vastly larger than any hall. i went up to it in state, passing through lines of elephants, an hundred on either hand, covered with cloth of gold and with houdahs of yellow silk roofed with the glory of peacocks. behind the mighty brutes soldiery blotted out the landscape, and the air between them and the sky was a tawny cloud of flaunting yak-tails; nor had one use for ears, so was he deafened by beat of drums and blowing of brazen horns twice a tall man's height. i sat on a throne of silver and gold, all my ministers present. my brother entered, he the next entitled. halfway down the aisle of chiefs i met him, and then led him to my seat, and saluted him rajah of meywar. your majesty, so i parted with crown and title--laid them down voluntarily to search the world for men in power in love with god enough to accept him as their sum of faith. behold why i travel making the earth a study! behold why i am in constantinople!" constantine was impressed. "where hast thou been?" he at length asked--"where before coming here?" "it were easier did your majesty ask where i have not been. for then i could answer, everywhere, except rome." "dost thou impugn our devotion to god?" "not so, not so, my lord! i am seeking to know the degree of your love of him." "how, prince?" "by a test." "what test?" no man listening could have said what mood the emperor was in; yet the guest replied with an appearance of rising courage: "a trial, to find all the other things entering into faith which your majesty and your majesty's lords and subjects are willing to lay down for god's sake." with a peremptory gesture constantine silenced the stir and rustle in the chamber. "it is right boldly put," he said. "but none the less respectfully. my lord, i am striving to be understood." "you speak of a trial. to what end?" "one article of faith, the all-essential of universal brotherhood in religion." "a magnificent conception! but is it practicable?" fortunately or unfortunately for the prince, an officer that moment made way through the courtiers, and whispered to the dean, who at once addressed himself to the emperor. "i pray pardon, but it pleased your majesty to bid me notify you when it is time to make ready for the mystery to-night. the hour is come; besides which a messenger from scholarius waits for an interview." constantine arose. "thanks, worthy dean," he said; "we will not detain the messenger. the audience is dismissed." then descending from the dais, he gave his hand to the prince. "i see the idea you have in mind, and it is worthy the bravest effort. i shall look forward to the next audience with concern. forget not that the guestship continues. my steward will take you in charge. farewell." the prince, sinking to his knees, kissed the offered hand, whereupon the emperor said as if just reminded: "was not your daughter with my kinswoman in the white castle?" "your majesty, the princess on that occasion most graciously consented to accept my daughter as her attendant." "were she to continue in the same attendance, prince, we might hope to have her at court some day." "i lay many thanks at your majesty's feet. she is most honored by the suggestion." constantine in lead of his officers then passed out, while, in care of the steward, the prince was conducted to the reception room, and served with refreshments. afterwhile through the windows he beheld the day expiring, and the first audience finished, and the second appointed, he was free to think of the approaching mystery. be it said now he was easy in feeling--satisfied with the management of his cause--satisfied with the impression he had made on the emperor and the court as well. had not the latter applauded and voted to hear him again? when taken with the care habitually observed by leading personages in audiences formal as that just passed, how broadly sympathetic the expressions of the monarch had been. in great cheerfulness the prince ate and drank, and even occupied the wine-colored leisure conning an argument for the occasion in prospect--noon, next day two weeks! and more clearly than ever his scheme seemed good. could he carry it through--could he succeed--the good would be recognized--never a doubt of that. if men were sometimes blind, god was always just. in thought he sped forward of the coming appointment, and saw himself not only the apostle of the reform, but the chosen agent, the accredited go-between of constantine and the young mahommed. he remembered the points of negotiation between them. he would not require the turk to yield the prophetic character of mahomet; neither should the byzantine's faith in christ suffer curtailment; he would ask them, however, to agree to a new relation between mahomet and christ on the one side and god on the other--that, namely, long conceded, as having existed between god and elijah. and then, an article of the utmost materiality, the very soul of the recast religion, he would insist that they obligate themselves to worship god alone, worship being his exclusive prerogative, and that this condition of exclusive worship be prescribed the only test of fraternity in religion; all other worship to be punishable as heresy. nor stopped he with mahommed and constantine; he doubted not bringing the rabbis to such a treaty. how almost identical it was with the judaism of moses. the bishop of rome might protest. what matter? romanism segregated must die. and so the isms of the brahman and the hindoo, so the buddhist, the confucian, the mencian--they would all perish under the hammering of the union. then, too, time would make the work perfect, and gradually wear christ and mahomet out of mind--he and time together. what if the task did take ages? he had an advantage over other reformers--he could keep his reform in motion--he could guide and direct it--he could promise himself life to see it in full acceptance. in the exuberance of triumphant feeling, he actually rejoiced in his doom, and for the moment imagined it more than a divine mercy. chapter iv the pannychides an invitation from the emperor to remain and view the procession marching up the heights of blacherne had been of itself a compliment; but the erection of a stand for the prince turned the compliment into a personal honor. to say truth, however, he really desired to see the pannychides, or in plain parlance, the vigils. he had often heard of them as of prodigious effect upon the participants. latterly they had fallen into neglect; and knowing how difficult it is to revive a dying custom, he imagined the spectacle would be poor and soon over. while reflecting on it, he looked out of the window and was surprised to see the night falling. he yielded then to restlessness, until suddenly an idea arose and absorbed him. suppose the emperor won to his scheme; was its success assured? so used was he to thinking of the power of kings and emperors as the sole essential to the things he proposed that in this instance he had failed to concede importance to the church; and probably he would have gone on in the delusion but for the mysteries which were now to pass before him. they forced him to think of the power religious organizations exercise over men. and this church--this old byzantine church! ay, truly! the byzantine conscience was under its direction; it was the father confessor of the empire; its voice in the common ear was the voice of god. to cast christ out of its system would be like wrenching a man's heart out of his body. it was here and there--everywhere in fact--in signs, trophies, monuments--in crosses and images--in monasteries, convents, houses to the saints, houses to the mother. what could the emperor do, if it were obstinate and defiant? the night beheld through the window crept into the wanderer's heart, and threatened to put out the light kindled there by the new-born hope with which he had come from the audience. "the church, the church! it is the enemy i have to fear," he kept muttering in dismal repetition, realizing, for the first time, the magnitude of the campaign before him. with a wisdom in wickedness which none of his successors in design have shown, he saw the christian idea in the bosom of the church unassailable except a substitute satisfactory to its professors could be found. was god a sufficient substitute? perhaps--and he turned cold with the reflection--the pannychides were bringing him an answer. it was an ecclesiastical affair, literally a meeting of churchmen _en masse_. where--when--how could the church present itself to any man more an actuality in the flesh? perhaps--and a chill set his very crown to crawling--perhaps the opportunity to study the spectacle was more a mercy of god than a favor of constantine. to his great relief, at length the officer who had escorted him from the grand gate came into the room. "i am to have the honor," he said, cheerfully, "of conducting you to the stand his majesty has prepared that you may at ease behold the mysteries appointed for the night. the head of the procession is reported appearing. if it please you, prince of india, we will set out." "i am ready." the position chosen for the prince was on the right bank of a cut through which the road passed on its ascent from the arched gateway by the chapel to the third terrace, and he was borne thither in his sedan. upon alighting, he found himself on a platform covered by a canopy, carpeted and furnished with one chair comfortably cushioned. at the right of the chair there was a pyramid of coals glowing in a brazier, and lest that might not be a sufficient provision against the damps of the hours, a great cloak was near at hand. in front of the platform he observed a pole securely planted and bearing a basket of inflammables ready for conversion into a torch. in short, everything needful to his well-being, including wine and water on a small tripod, was within reach. before finally seating himself the prince stepped out to the brow of the terrace, whence he noticed the chapel below him in the denser darkness of the trees about it like a pool. the gleam of armor on the area by the grand gate struck him with sinister effect. flowers saluted him with perfume, albeit he could not see them. not less welcome was the low music with which the brook cheered itself while dancing down to the harbor. besides a cresset burning on the landing outside the port entrance, two other lights were visible; one on the pharos, the other on the great galata tower, looking in the distance like large stars. with these exceptions, the valley and the hill opposite blacherne, and the wide-reaching metropolis beyond them, were to appearances a blacker cloud dropped from the clouded sky. a curious sound now came to him from the direction of the city. was it a rising wind? or a muffled roll from the sea? while wondering, some one behind him said: "they are coming." the voice was sepulchral and harsh, and the prince turned quickly to the speaker. "ah, father theophilus!" "they are coming," the father repeated. the prince shivered slightly. the noise beyond the valley arose more distinctly. "are they singing?" he asked. "chanting," the other answered. "why do they chant?" "knowest thou our scriptures?" the wanderer quieted a disdainful impulse, and answered: "i have read them." the father continued: "presently thou wilt hear the words of job: 'oh, that thou wouldst hide me in the grave, that thou wouldst keep me in secret, until thy wrath be past, that thou wouldst appoint me a set time and remember me.'" the prince was startled. why was one in speech so like a ghost selected his companion? and that verse, of all to him most afflicting, and which in hours of despair he had repeated until his very spirit had become colored with its reproachful plaint--who put it in the man's mouth? the chant came nearer. of melody it had nothing; nor did those engaged in it appear in the slightest attentive to time. yet it brought relief to the prince, willing as he was to admit he had never heard anything similar--anything so sorrowful, so like the wail of the damned in multitude. and rueful as the strain was, it helped him assign the pageant a near distance, a middle distance, and then interminability. "there appear to be a great many of them," he remarked to the father. "more than ever before in the observance," was the reply. "is there a reason for it?" "our dissensions." the father did not see the pleased expression of his auditor's face, but proceeded: "yes, our dissensions. they multiply. at first the jar was between the church and the throne; now it is the church against the church--a roman party and a greek party. one man among us has concentrated in himself the learning and devotion of the christian east. you will see him directly, george scholarius. by visions, like those in which the old prophets received the counsel of god, he was instructed to revive the _pannychides._ his messengers have gone hither and thither, to the monasteries, the convents, and the eremitic colonies wherever accessible. the greater the presence, he says, the greater the influence." "scholarius is a wise man," the prince said, diplomatically. "his is the wisdom of the prophets," the father answered. "is he the patriarch?" "no, the patriarch is of the roman party--scholarius of the greek." "and constantine?" "a good king, truly, but, alas; he is cumbered with care of the state." "yes, yes," said the prince. "and the care leads to neglect of his soul. kings are sometimes to be pitied. but there is then a special object in the vigils?" "the vigils to-night are for the restoration of the unities once more, that the church may find peace and the state its power and glory again. god is in the habit of taking care of his own." "thank you, father, i see the difference. scholarius would intrust the state to the holy virgin; but constantine, with a worldlier inspiration, adheres to the craft held by kings immemorially. the object of the vigils is to bring the emperor to abandon his policy and defer to scholarius?" "the emperor assists in the mystery," the father answered, vaguely. the procession meantime came on, and when its head appeared in front of the grand gate three trumpeters blew a flourish which called the guards into line. a monk advanced and held parley with an officer; after which he was given a lighted torch, and passed under the portal in lead of the multitude. the trumpeters continued plying their horns, marking the slow ascent. "were this an army," said father theophilus, "it would not be so laborious; but, alas! the going of youth is nowhere so rapid as in a cloister; nor is age anywhere so feeble. ten years kneeling on a stony floor in a damp cell brings the anchorite to forget he ever walked with ease." the prince scarcely heard him; he was interested in the little to be seen crossing the area below--a column four abreast, broken into unequal divisions, each division with a leader, who, at the gate, received a torch. occasionally a square banner on a cross-stick appeared--occasionally a section in light-colored garments; more frequently a succession of heads without covering of any kind; otherwise the train was monotonously rueful, and in its slow movement out of the darkness reminded the spectator on the height of a serpent crawling endlessly from an underground den. afterwhile the dim white of the pavement was obscured by masses stationary on the right and left of the column; these were the people stopping there because for them there was no further pursuit of the spectral parade. the horns gave sonorous notice of the progress during the ascent. now they were passing along the first terrace; still the divisions were incessant down by the gate--still the chanting continued, a dismal dissonance in the distance, a horrible discord near by. if it be true that the human voice is music's aptest instrument, it is also true that nothing vocalized in nature can excel it in the expression of diabolism. suddenly the first torch gleamed on the second terrace scarce an hundred yards from the chapel. "see him now there, behind the trumpeters--scholarius!" said father theophilus, with a semblance of animation. "he with the torch?" "ay!--and he might throw the torch away, and still be the light of the church." the remark did not escape the prince. the man who could so impress himself upon a member of the court must be a power with his brethren of the gown generally. reflecting thus, the discerning visitor watched the figure stalking on under the torch. there are men who are causes in great events, sometimes by superiority of nature, sometimes by circumstances. what if this were one of them? and forthwith the observer ceased fancying the mystical looking monk drawing the interminable train after him by the invisible bonds of a will mightier than theirs in combination--the fancy became a fact. "the procession will not stop at the chapel," the father said; "but keep on to the palace, where the emperor will join it. if my lord cares to see the passage distinctly, i will fire the basket here." "do so," the prince replied. the flambeau was fired. it shed light over the lower terraces right and left, and brought the palace in the upper space into view from the base of the forward building to the tower of isaac; and here, close by, the chapel with all its appurtenances, paved enclosure, speeding brook, solemn cypresses, and the wall and arched gateway at the hither side stood out in almost daytime clearness. the road in the cut underfoot must bring the frocked host near enough to expose its spirit. the bellowing of the horns frightened the birds at roost in the melancholy grove, and taking wing, they flew blindly about. then ensued the invasion of the enclosure in front of the chapel--scholarius next the musicians. the prince saw him plainly; a tall man, stoop-shouldered, angular as a skeleton; his hood thrown back; head tonsured; the whiteness of the scalp conspicuous on account of the band of black hair at the base; the features high and thin, cheeks hollow, temples pinched. the dark brown cassock, leaving an attenuated neck completely exposed, hung from his frame apparently much too large for it. his feet disdained sandals. at the brook he halted, and letting the crucifix fall from his right hand, he stooped and dipped the member thus freed into the water, and rising flung the drops in air. resuming the crucifix, he marched on. it cannot be said there was admiration in the steady gaze with which the prince kept the monk in eye; the attraction was stronger--he was looking for a sign from him. he saw the tall, nervous figure cross the brook with a faltering, uncertain step, pass the remainder of the pavement, the torch in one hand, the holy symbol in the other; then it disappeared under the arch of the gate; and when it had come through, the sharp espial was beforehand with it, and waiting. it commenced ascending the acute grade--now it was in the cut--and now, just below the prince, it had but to look up, and its face would be on a level with his feet. at exactly the right moment, scholarius did look up, and--stop. the interchange of glances between the men was brief, and can be likened to nothing so aptly as sword blades crossing in a red light. possibly the monk, trudging on, his mind intent upon something which was part of a scene elsewhere, or on the objects and results of the solemnities in celebration, as yet purely speculative, might have been disagreeably surprised at discovering himself the subject of study by a stranger whose dress proclaimed him a foreigner; possibly the prince's stare, which we have already seen was at times powerfully magnetic, filled him with aversion and resentment; certain it is he raised his head, showing a face full of abhorrence, and at the same time waved the crucifix as if in exorcism. the prince had time to see the image thus presented was of silver on a cross of ivory wrought to wonderful realism. the face was dying, not dead; there were the spikes in the hands and feet, the rent in the side, the crown of thorns, and overhead the initials of the inscription: this is the king of the jews. there was the worn, buffeted, bloodspent body, and the lips were parted so it was easy to think the sufferer in mid-utterance of one of the exclamations which have placed his divinity forever beyond successful denial. the swift reversion of memory excited in the beholder might have been succeeded by remorse, but for the cry: "thou enemy of jesus christ--avaunt!" it was the voice of scholarius, shrill and high; and before the prince could recover from the shock, before he could make answer, or think of answering, the visionary was moving on; nor did he again look back. "what ails thee, prince?" the sepulchral tone of father theophilus was powerful over the benumbed faculties of his majesty's guest; and he answered with a question: "is not thy friend scholarius a great preacher?" "on his lips the truth is most unctuous." "it must be so--it must be so! for"--the prince's manner was as if he were settling a grave altercation in his own mind--"for never did a man offer me the presence so vitalized in an image. i am not yet sure but he gave me to see the holy son of the immaculate mother in flesh and blood exactly as when they put him so cruelly to death. or can it be, father, that the effect upon me was in greater measure due to the night, the celebration, the cloud of ministrants, the serious objects of the vigils?" the answer made father theophilus happy as a man of his turn could be--he was furnished additional evidence of the spiritual force of scholarius, his ideal. "no," he answered, "it was god in the man." all this time the chanting had been coming nearer, and now the grove rang with it. a moment, and the head of the first division must present itself in front of the chapel. could the wanderer have elected then whether to depart or stay, the _pannychides_ would have had no further assistance from him--so badly had the rencounter with scholarius shaken him. not that he was afraid in the vulgar sense of the term. before a man can habitually pray for death, he must be long lost to fear. if we can imagine conscience gone, pride of achievement, without which there can be no mortification or shame in defeat, may yet remain with him, a source of dread and weakness. the chill which shook brutus in his tent the evening before philippi was not in the least akin to terror. so with the prince at this juncture. there to measure the hold of the christian idea upon the church, it seemed scholarius had brought him an answer which finished his interest in the passing vigils. in brief, the reformer's interest in the mystery was past, and he wished with his whole soul to retreat to the sedan, but a fascination held him fast. "i think it would be pleasanter sitting," he said, and returned to the platform. "if i presume to take the chair, father," he added, "it is because i am older than thou." hardly was he thus at ease when a precentor, fat, and clad in a long gown, stepped out of the grove to the clear lighted pavement in front of the chapel. his shaven head was thrown back, his mouth open to its fullest stretch, and tossing a white stick energetically up and down in the air, he intoned with awful distinctness: "the waters wear the stones. thou washest away the things which grow out of the dust of the earth, and thou destroyest the hopes of man." the prince covered his ears with his hands. "thou likest not the singing?" father theophilus asked, and continued: "i admit the graces have little to do with musical practice in the holy houses of the fathers." but he for whom the comfort was meant made no reply. he was repeating to himself: "thou prevailest forever against him, and he passeth." and to these words the head of the first division strode forward into the light. the prince dropped his hands in time to hear the last verse: "but his flesh upon him shall have pain, and his soul within him shall mourn." for whom was this? did the singers know the significancy of the text to him? the answer was from god, and they were merely messengers bringing it. he rose to his feet; in his rebellious passion the world seemed to melt and swim about him. he felt a longing to burn, break, destroy--to strike out and kill. when he came to himself, father theophilus, who thought him merely wonder struck by the mass of monks in march, was saying in his most rueful tone: "good order required a careful arrangement of the procession; for though the participants are pledged to godly life, yet they sometimes put their vows aside temporarily. the holiest of them have pride in their establishments, and are often too ready to resort to arms of the flesh to assert their privileges. the fathers of the islands have long been jealous of the fathers of the city, and to put them together would be a signal for riot. accordingly there are three grand divisions here--the monks of constantinople, those of the islands, the shores of the bosphorus and the three seas, and finally the recluses and hermits from whatever quarter. lo! first the fathers of the studium--saintly men as thou wilt see anywhere." the speech was unusually long for the father; a fortunate circumstance of which the prince availed himself to recover his self-possession. by the time the brethren eulogized were moving up the rift at his feet, he was able to observe them calmly. they were in long gowns of heavy gray woollen stuff, with sleeves widening from the shoulders; their cowls, besides covering head and visage, fell down like capes. cleanly, decent-looking men, they marched slowly and in order, their hands united palm to palm below their chins. the precentor failed to inspire them with his fury of song. "these now coming," father theophilus said of the second fraternity, "are conventuals of petrion, who have their house looking out on the harbor here. and these," he said of the third, "are of the monastery of anargyres--a very ancient society. the emperor michael, surnamed the paphlegonian, died in one of their cells in . brotherhood with them is equivalent to saintship." afterwhile a somewhat tumultuous flock appeared in white skirts and loose yellow cloaks, their hair and beard uncut and flying. the historian apologized. "bear with them," he said; "they are mendicants from the retreats of periblepte, in the quarter of psammatica. you may see them on the street corners and quays, and in all public places, sick, blind, lame and covered with sores. they have st. lazarus for patron. at night an angel visits them with healing. they refuse to believe the age of miracles is past." the city monastics were a great host carrying banners with the name of their brotherhoods inscribed in golden letters; and in every instance the hegumen, or abbot, preceded his fraternity torch in hand. a company in unrelieved black marched across the brook, and their chanting was lugubrious as their garb. "petra sends us these fathers," said theophilus--"petra over on the south side. they sleep all day and watch at night. the second coming they say will happen in the night, because they think that time most favorable for the trumpeting herald and the splendor of the manifestations." half an hour of marching--men in gray and black and yellow, a few in white--men cowled--men shorn and unshorn--barefooted men and men in sandals--a river of men in all moods, except jovial and happy, toiling by the observing stand, seldom an upturned face, spectral, morose, laden body and mind--young and old looking as if just awakened after ages of entombment;--a half hour of dismal chanting the one chapter from the book of the man in the land of uz, of all utterances the most dismal;--a half hour of waiting by the prince for one kindly sign, without discovering it--a half hour, in which, if the comparison be not too strong, he was like a soul keeping watch over its own abandoned body. then father theophilus said: "from the cloisters of st. james of manganese! the richest of the monasteries of constantinople, and the most powerful. it furnishes sancta sophia with renowned preachers. its brethren cultivate learning. their library is unexcelled, and they boast that in the hundreds of years of their society life, they had never an heretic. before their altars the candles are kept burning and trimmed forever. their numbers are recruited from the noblest families. young men to whom the army is open prefer god-service in the elegant retirement of st. james of manganese. they will interest you, prince; and after them we will have the second grand division." "brethren of the islands?" "yes, of the islands and the sea-shores." upon the pavement then appeared a precentor attired like a greek priest of the present day; a rimless hat black and high, and turned slightly outward at the top; a veil of the same hue; the hair gathered into a roll behind, and secured under the hat; a woollen gown very dark, glossy, and dropping in ample folds unconfined from neck to shoe. the hegumen followed next, and because of his age and infirmities a young man carried the torch for him. the chanting was sweet, pure, and in perfect time. all these evidences of refinement and respectability were noticed by the prince, and looking at the torch-bearer again, he recognized the young monk, his room-mate in the white castle. "knowest thou the youth yonder?" he asked, pointing to sergius. "a russian recently arrived," the father replied. "day before yesterday he was brought to the palace and presented to the emperor by the princess irene. he made a great impression." the two kept their eyes on the young man until he disappeared ascending the hill. "he will be heard from;" and with the prediction the prince gave attention to the body of the brotherhood. "these men have the bearing of soldiers," he said presently. "their vows respecting war are liberal. if the _panagia_ were carried to the walls, they would accompany it in armor." the prince smiled. he had not the faith in the virgin of blacherne which the father's answer implied. the st. james' were long in passing. the prince kept them in sight to the last four. they were the aristocracy of the church, prim, proud; as their opportunities were more frequent, doubtless they were more wicked than their associates of the humbler fraternities; yet he could not promise himself favor from their superior liberality. on the contrary, having a great name for piety to defend, if a test offered, they were the more certain to be hard and vindictive--to send a heretic to the stake, and turn a trifling variation from the creed into heresy. "who is this?" the prince exclaimed, as a noble-looking man in full canonicals stepped out of the cypress shadows, first of the next division. "master of ceremonies for the church," father theophilus replied. "he is the wall between the islanders and the metropolitans." "and he who walks with him singing?" "the _protopsolete_--leader of the patriarch's choir." behind this singer the monks of the isles of the princes! in movement, order, dress, like their predecessors in the march--hegumen with their followers in gray, black and white--hands palm to palm prayerfully--chanting sometimes better, sometimes worse--never a look upward but always down, as if heaven were a hollow in the earth, an abyss at their feet, and they about to step into it. the prince was beginning to tire. suddenly he thought of the meeting of pilgrims at el zaribah. how unlike was the action there and here! that had been a rush, an inundation, as it were, by the sea, fierce, mad, a passion of faith fostered by freedom; this, slow, solemn, sombre, oppressive--what was it like? death in life, and burial by programme so rigid there must not be a groan more or a tear less. he saw law in it all--or was it imposition, force, choice smothered by custom, fashion masquerading in the guise of faith? the hold of christ upon the church began to look possible of measurement. "roti first!" said the father. "rocky and bare, scarce a bush for a bird or grass for a cricket. ah, verily he shall love god dearly or hate the world mortally who of free will chooses a cloister for life at roti!" the brethren of the three convents of the island marched past clad in short brown frocks, bareheaded, barefooted. the comments of the historian were few and brief. "poor they look," he said of the first one, "and poor they are, yet michael rhangabe and romain lacapene were glad to live and die with them." of the second: "when romain diogenes built the house these inhabit, he little dreamed it would shelter him, a refugee from the throne." of the third: "dardanes was a great general. in his fortunate days he built a tower on roti with one cell in it; in an evil hour he aspired to the throne--failed--lost his eyes, retired to his lonesome tower--by his sanctity there drew a fraternity to him, and died. that was hundreds of years ago. the brethren still pray for his soul. be it that evil comes of good; not less does good come of evil--and so god keeps the balances." in the same manner he descanted on the several contingents from antigone as they strode by; then of those from god's houses at halki, the pearl of the marmora; amongst them the monastery of john the precursor, and the convents of st. george, hagia trias, and lastly the very holy house of the all holy mother of god, founded by john viii. palaeologus. after them, in turn, the consecrated from prinkipo, especially those from the kamares of the basilissa, irene, and the convent of the transfiguration. the faithful few from the solitary convent on the island of oxia, and the drab-gowned abstinents of the monastery of plati, miserables given to the abnormity of mixing prayer and penance with the cultivation of snails for the market in constantinople, were the last of the islanders. then in a kind of orderly disorganization the claustral inculpables from holy houses on olympus down by the dardanelles, the bosphorus, and the bithynian shore behind the isles of the princes, and some from retreats in the egean and along the peloponnesus, their walls now dust, their names forgotten. "where is the procession going?" the prince now asked. "look behind you--up along the front of the palace." and casting his eyes thither, the questioner beheld the ground covered with a mass of men not there before. "what are they doing?" "awaiting the emperor. only the third grand division is wanting now; when it is up his majesty will appear." "and descend to the chapel?" "yes." for a time a noise more like the continuous, steady monotone of falling water than a chant had been approaching from the valley, making its darkness vocal. it threatened the gates awhile; now it was at the gates. the prince's wonder was great, and to appease it father theophilus explained: "the last division is at hand." in the dim red light over the area by the gate below, the visitor beheld figures hurriedly issuing from the night--figures in the distance so wild and fantastic they did not at first seem human. they left no doubt, however, whence the sound proceeded. the white sand of the road up the terraces was beaten to dust under the friction and pressure of the thousands of feet gone before; this third division raised it into an attending cloud, and the cloud and the noise were incessant. once more the prince went out to the brink of the terrace. the monotony of the pageant was broken; something new was announcing itself. spectres--devils--gnomes and jinn of the islamitic solomon--rakshakas and hanumen of the eastern iliads--surely this miscellany was a composition of them all. they danced along the way and swung themselves and each other, howling like dervishes in frenzy. again the birds took wing and flew blindly above the cypresses, and the end of things seemed about to burst when a yell articulate yet unintelligible shook the guarded door of the venerable chapel. then the demoniacs--the prince could not make else of them--leaping the brook, crowding the pent enclosure, hasting to the arched exit, were plainly in view. men almost naked, burned to hue of brick-dust; men in untanned sheepskin coats and mantles; men with every kind of headgear, turbans, handkerchiefs, cowls; men with hair and beard matted and flying; now one helped himself to a louder yell by tossing in air the dirty garment he had torn from his body, hirsute as a goat's; now one leaped up agile as a panther; now one turned topsy-turvy; now groups of them swirled together like whimsical eddies in a pool. some went slowly, their arms outspread in silent ecstasy; some stalked on with parted lips and staring eyes, trance-like or in dead drunkenness of soul; nevertheless the great majority of them, too weary and far spent for violent exertion, marched with their faces raised, and clapping their hands or beating their breasts, now barking short and sharp, like old hounds dreaming, then finishing with long-drawn cries not unlike the ending of a sorrowful chorus. through the gate they crowded, and at sight of their faces full of joy unto madness, the prince quit pitying them, and, reminded of the wahabbees at el zaribah, turned to father theophilus. "in god's name," he said, "who are these?" "a son of india thou, and not know them at sight?" there was surprise in the question, and a degree of unwarranted familiarity, yet the father immediately corrected himself, by solemnly adding: "look there at that one whirling his mantle of unshorn skin over his head. he has a cave on mt. olympus furnished with a stool, a crucifix, and a copy of the holy scriptures; he sleeps on the stone; the mantle is his bedding by night, his clothing by day. he raises vegetables, and they and snow-water seeping through a crevice in his cavern subsist him.... and the next him--the large man with the great coat of camel's hair which keeps him scratched as with thorns--he is from the monastery of st. auxentius, the abode of a powerful fraternity of ascetics. a large proportion of this wing of the celebrants is of the same austere house. you will know them by the penitential, dun-colored garment--they wear no other.... yonder is a brother carrying his right arm at a direct angle above his shoulder, stiff and straight as a stick of seasoned oak. he is of a colony of stylites settled on this shore of the upper bosphorus overlooking the black sea. he could not lower the arm if he wished to; but since it is his certificate of devoutness, the treasures of the earth laid at his feet in a heap would be insufficient to induce him to drop it though for an instant. his colony is one of many like it. spare him thy pity. he believes the clinch of that hand holds fast the latch of heaven.... the shouters who have just entered the arch in a body have hermitaries in close grouping around the one failing monastery on plati, and live on lentils and snails; aside from which they commit themselves to christ, and so abound in faith that the basileus in his purple would be very happy were he true master of a tithe of their happiness.... hast thou not enough, o prince? those crossing the brook now?--ah, yes! they are anchorites from anderovithos, the island. pitiable creatures looked at from the curtained windows of a palace--pitiable, and abandoned by men and angels! be not sure. everything is as we happen to see it--a bit of philosophy, which, as they despise the best things secularly considered of this life, steels them to indifference for what you and i, and others not of their caste, may think. they have arrived at a summit above the corrupting atmosphere of the earth, where every one of them has already the mansion promised him by our blessed lord, and where the angels abide and delight to serve him.... for the rest, o prince, call them indifferently recluses, hermits, anticenobites, mystics, martyrs, these from europe, those from isolations deep somewhere in asia. who feeds them? did not ravens feed elijah? offer them white bread and robes of silk, yesterday's wear of a king. 'what!' they will ask. 'shall any man fare better than john the forerunner?' speak to them of comfortable habitations, and they will answer with the famous saying, 'foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the son of man hath not where to lay his head.' what more is there to be said? thou seest them, thou knowest them." yes, the prince knew them. like the horde which stood by the black stone envious of mirza's dying, these were just as ready to die for christ. he smiled grimly, and thought of mahommed, and how easy the church had made the conquest of which he was dreaming. it was with a sense of relief he beheld the tail of the division follow its body up to the palace. then, last of all, came the dignitaries of the church, the cartulaire, least in rank, with many intermediates, up to the cyncelle, who, next to the absent patriarch, represented him. if what had preceded in the procession was poor and unpretentious, this part was splendid to excess. they were not more than eighteen or twenty in number, but they walked singly with considerable intervals between them; while on the right and left of each, a liveried servant carried a torch which gave him to be distinctly seen. and the flashing of gold on their persons was wonderful to the spectator. why not? this rare and anointed body was the church going in solemnity to assist the basileus in a high ceremony. afterwhile the emperor appeared descending to the chapel. to the prince's amazement, he was in a plain, priestly black frock, without crown, sword, sceptre or guard; and so did his guise compare with the magnificence of the ecclesiastics surrounding him, he actually seemed in their midst a prisoner or a penitent. he passed his visitor like one going from the world forgetting and forgot. "an explanation, father," said the prince. "the church is in its robes, but my august friend, the emperor, looks as if he had suffered dethronement." "thou wilt presently see his majesty enter the chapel alone. the legend supposes him there in presence directly of god; if so, what merit would there be in regalia? would his sword or sceptre make his supplication more impressive?" the prince bowed. and while he watched, the gold-clad escort halted before the holy house, the door opened, and constantine went in unattended. then, the door being shut behind him, the clergy knelt, and remained kneeling. the light from the torches was plenteous there, making the scene beautiful. and yet further, while he stood watching, the trumpeting and chanting on the level in front of the palace behind him ceased, and a few minutes afterwards, he was aware of the noise of many feet rushing in a scramble from all directions to the chapel. here and there flambeaux streamed out, with hundreds of dark-gowned excited figures speeding after them as best they could. the bank the prince occupied was overrun, like other contiguous spaces. the object of the invaders was to secure a position near the revered building as possible; for immediately on attaining it they dropped to their knees, and began counting their rosaries and mumbling prayers. at length it befell that the terraces far and near were densely crowded by monks in low recitation. "my lord," said father theophilus, in a tone of reserved depth, "the mystery is begun. there is no more to be seen. good-night!" and without ado, he too knelt where he stood, beads in hand, eyes fixed upon the one point of devotional interest. when the sedan was brought, the prince gave one last glance at the scene, feeling it was to be thenceforward and forever a burden on his memory. he took in and put away the weather-stained chapel, centre of so much travail; the narrow court in front of it brilliantly lighted and covered with priests high and low in glittering vestments; the cypresses looming skyward, stately and stiff, like conical monuments: the torches scattered over the grounds, revealing patches of men kneeling, their faces turned toward the chapel: the mumbling and muttering from parts unlighted telling of other thousands in like engagement. he had seen battle-fields fresh in their horrors; decks of ships still bloody; shores strewn with wreckage and drowned sailors, and the storm not spent; populous cities shaken down by earthquakes, the helpless under the ruins pleading for help; but withal never had he seen anything which affected him as did that royal park at mid of night, given up to that spectral multitude! it seemed he could not get away from the spectacle soon enough; for after issuing from the grand gate, he kept calling to his carriers, impatiently: "faster, my men, faster!" chapter v a plague of crime sergius' life in constantinople had been almost void of incident. his introduction to the patriarch by the princess irene started him well with that reverend official, whose confidence and love she commanded to a singular degree. his personal qualities, however, were very helpful. the gentleness of his nature, his youth, his simplicity, respectfulness, intelligence and obvious piety were all in his favor; at the same time the strongest attraction he possessed with the strangers amongst whom he found himself was his likeness according to the received byzantine ideal to christ. he had a habit, moreover, of walking slowly, and with a quiet tread, his head lowered, his hands clasped before him. coming in this mood suddenly upon persons, he often startled them; at such times, indeed, the disturbed parties were constrained to both observe and forgive him--he reminded them so strikingly of the nazarene as he must have looked while in solitary walks by the sea or along the highways of galilee. whatever the cause, it is very certain his serenity, the patriarch, from mere attention to the young russian, passed speedily to interest in him, and manifested it in modes pleasant and noticeable. by his advice, sergius attached himself to the brotherhood of the monastery of st. james of manganese. this was the first incident in his city life out of the usual. the second was his presentation at court, where he was not less successful with the emperor than he had been with the patriarch. yet sergius was not happy. his was the old case of a spirit willing, even anxious, to do, but held in restraint. he saw about him such strong need of saving action; and the christian plan, as he understood it, was so simple and efficacious. there was no difference in the value of souls. taking christ's own words, everything was from the father, and he held the gates of heaven open for the beggar and the emperor alike. why not return to the plan devised, practised, and exemplified by the saviour himself? the idea bore heavily upon his mind, and accounted for the bent head and slow step fast becoming habitudes. at times the insurgent impulses seemed beyond control. this was particularly when he walked in crowded places; for then the people appeared an audience summoned and ready to hear him; he had only to go into their midst, call to them, and begin speaking; but often as he beheld the calm, patient, pleading face of the princess irene, and heard her say ever so gently: "wait, wait! i know the situation--you do not. our object is the most good. god will send the opportunity. then martyrdom, if it come, is going to heaven. wait--i will give you the signal. you are to speak for me as well as yourself. you are to be my voice"--so often he grew reconciled. there was another trouble more difficult of comprehension and description. under its influence the sky did not look so blue as formerly; the breeze was less refreshing; the sun where it scattered its golden largesse over the sea failed to relieve it of dulness; and in all things, himself included, there was something wanting--exactly what he could not tell. however, as he had been indulging comparisons of life in constantinople with life in bielo-osero, and longing for the holy quiet of the latter, he concluded he was homesick, and was ashamed. it was childishness! the great example had no home! and with that thought he struggled manfully to be a man forever done with such weaknesses. it became his wont of afternoons when the weather was tolerable to seek the city wall opposite the old chalcedonian point. in going thither, he sometimes passed through the hippodrome and sta. sophia, both in such contact to the collection of palaces known as the bucoleon that each might have been fairly considered an appurtenance of the other. the exercises in the spacious palaestrae had small interest for him; there was always such evident rancor between the factions blue and green. the dome of the great church he regarded man's best effort at construction, beyond which there was nothing more attainable; but how it dwindled and faded when from the wall he looked at the sky, the sea, and the land, the handiworks of god! on the wall, at a point marked by a shallow angle, there was a cracked stone bench, offering seawardly a view of the isles of the princes, and the asian domain beyond broussa to the olympian heights; westwardly, the bucoleon and its terraced gardens were near by, and above them in the distance the tower of isaac angelus arose over blacherne, like a sentinel on guard against the opposing summits of galata and pera. from the bench, the walk, besides being wide and smooth, extended, with a slight curvature northward to the acropolis, now point serail, and on the south to the port of julian. the airy promenade thus formed was reached by several stairs intermediate the landmarks mentioned; yet the main ascent was near the imperial stables, and it consisted of a flight of stone steps built against the inner face of the wall, like a broad buttress. this latter was for the public, and of sunny days it was used incessantly. everybody in the category of invalids affected it in especial, since litters and sedans were not inhibited there. in short, the popularity of this mural saunter can be easily imagined. the afternoon of the day the prince of india was in audience by the emperor's invitation, sergius was the sole occupant of the stone bench. the hour was pleasant; the distant effects were perfect; birds and boats enlivened the air and water; and in listening to the swish of waves amongst the rocks and pebbles below, so like whisperings, he forgot where he was, and his impatience and melancholy, and the people strolling negligently past. one of his arms lay along the edge of the bulwark before him, and he was not thinking so much as simply enjoying existence. to such as noticed him he appeared a man in the drowsy stage next to sleep. afterwhile a voice aroused him, and, without moving, he became aware of two men stopped and talking. he could not avoid hearing them. "she is coming," said one. "how do you know?" the other asked. "have i not told you i keep a spy on the old prince's house? a messenger from him has just reported the chair arrived for her; and this being her favorite stroll, she will be here presently." "have you considered the risks of your project?" "risks? pah!" the exclamation was with a contemptuous laugh. "but they have grown since last night," the other persisted. "the indian is now at the palace, his majesty's guest." "yes, i had report of that also; but i have studied the game, and if you fear to join me, i will see it through alone. as an offence against law, it is abduction, not murder; and the penalty, imprisonment, can be easily changed to banishment, which with me means at the utmost a short absence to give friends an opportunity to prepare for my return. consider, moreover, the subject of the offence will be a woman. can you name an instance in which the kidnapper of a woman has been punished?--i mean in our time?" "true, women are the cheapest commodity in the market; therefore"-- "i understand," the first speaker interposed, a little impatiently, "but princes of india are not common in constantinople, while their daughters are less so. see the temptation! besides, in the decadence of our byzantine empire, the criminal laws fail worse and worse of execution. only last night my father, delivering a lecture, said neglect in this respect was one of the reasons of the empire's going. only the poor and degraded suffer penalties now. and i--pah! what have i to fear? or thou? and from whom? when the girl's loss is discovered--you observe i am viewing the affair in its most malignant aspect--i know the course the prince will take. he will run to the palace; there he will fall at the emperor's feet, tell his tale of woe, and"-- "and if thou art denounced?" the conspirator laughed again. "the worse for the prince," he at length replied. "the hegumen, my honored father, will follow him to the palace, and--but let the details go! the relations between the basileus and the church are strained to breaking; and the condition is not sanable while the quarrel between the patriarch and scholarius waxes hotter." "the patriarch and scholarius quarrelling? i had not heard of that." "openly, openly! his majesty and the patriarch are tenderly sympathetic. what more is wanting to set the prophet scolding? the patriarch, it is now known, will not be at the _pannychides_ to-night. his health began failing when, over his objection, it was decided to hold the mystery, and last week he betook himself to the holy mountain. this morning the prophet"-- "thou meanest scholarius?" "scholarius denounced him as an _azymite_, which is bad, if true; as unfaithful to god and the church, which is worse; and as trying to convert the emperor into an adherent of the bishop of rome, which, considering the bishop is satan unchained, will not admit of a further descent in sin. the mystery tonight is scholarius' scheme in contravention of his serenity's efforts. oh, it is a quarrel, and a big one, involving church and state, and the infallibility of our newly risen jeremiah. thus full-handed, thinkest thou in a suit the prince of india against the venerable hegumen of all the st. james', his majesty will hesitate? is thy opinion of him as a politician so uncomplimentary? think again, i say--think again!" "thy father's brotherhood are his majesty's friends!" "ah, the very point! they despise scholarius now, and what an ado, what a political display, to drive them into his arms! the princes of india, though they were numerous as the spectre caravan, could not carry influence that far." here there was a rest in the conversation. "well, since thou wilt not be persuaded to let the enterprise go," the protesting friend next said, "at least agree with me that it is indiscreet to speak of it in a place public as this." the laugh of the conspirator was heartier than before. "ah, hadst thou warned me not to speak of it to the"-- "enough of that! the prince of india is nothing to me--thou art my friend." "agree with me then that thou hast ears, while the public"-- "have not, thou wouldst say. still there are things which may not be whispered in a desert without being overheard." "the pagans who went before us had a god of wisdom, and they called him hermes. i should say thou hast been to school to him. 'twas he, doubtless, who taught outlaws to seek safety in crowded cities. by the same philosophy, where can one talk treason more securely than on this wall? afraid of discovery! not i, unless thou mumblest in thy sleep. we go about our good intents--the improvement of our fortune for instance--with awful care, and step by step, fortifying. the practice is applicable to wickedness. i am no bungler. i will tell thee a tale.... thou knowest the brotherhood of the monastery of st. james of manganese is very ancient, and that the house in which it is quartered is about as old as the brotherhood. their archives are the richest in the empire. they have a special chamber and a librarian. were he of the mind, he might write a history of constantinople by original data without leaving his library. fortunately the mere keepers of books seldom write books.... my father's office is in the monastery, and i frequently find myself in his company there. he never fails to improve the opportunity to lecture me, for he is a good man. one day, by invitation, i accompanied the librarian to his place of keeping, and saw it, and wondered how he could be willing to give his days--he is now an old man--to such a mass of rot and smells. i spare you mention of the many things he showed me; for there was but one of real ado with what we are considering, an old document illuminated with an untarnished chrysobula. 'here,' said he, 'is something curious.' the text was short--writers in those days knew the tricks of condensation, and they practised them virtuously. i asked him to give it to me--he refused--he would sooner have given me the last lock on his head, which is a great deal, seeing that hair grows precious exactly as it grows scantier. so i made him hold the lamp while i read.... the document was dated about a.d. --a century and a half gone, and proved to be a formal report by the patriarch to a council of bishops and hegumen.... thou knowest, i am sure, the great cistern; not the philoxenus, but the larger one, with an entrance west of sta. sophia, sometimes called the imperial, because built by the first constantine and enlarged by justinian." "i know it." "well, there was a great ceremony there one day; the same with which the report was concerned. the clergy attended in force and panoply led by his serenity in person--monks, nuns, deacons and deaconesses--in a word, the church was present. the cistern had been profaned. a son of satan, moved by a most diabolical ingenuity, had converted it into a den of wickedness surpassing sinful belief; and the procession and awful conclave were to assist his serenity in restoring the water to wholesomeness, impossible, in the belief of consumers, except by solemn exorcism.... heed now, my friend--i am about to tap the heart of my story. a plague struck the city--a plague of crime. a woman disappeared. there was search for her, but without success. the affair would have been dismissed within the three days usually allotted wonders of the kind, had not another like it occurred--and then another. the victims, it was noticed, were young and beautiful, and as the last one was of noble family the sensation was universal. the whole capital organized for rescue. while the hunt was at its height, a fourth unfortunate went the way of the others. sympathy and curiosity had been succeeded by anxiety; now the public was aroused to anger, and the parents of handsome girls were sore with fear. schemes for discovery multiplied; ingenuity was exhausted; the government took part in the chase--all in vain. and there being then a remission in the disappearance, the theory of suicide was generally accepted. quiet and confidence were returning, when, lo! the plague broke out afresh! five times in five weeks sta. sophia was given to funeral services. the ugly women, and the halt, and those long hopeless of husbands shared the common terror. the theory of suicide was discarded. it was the doing of the turks, everybody said. the turks were systematically foraging constantinople to supply their harems with christian beauty; or if the turks were innocent, the devil was the guilty party. on the latter presumption, the church authorities invented a prayer of special application. could anything better signify the despair of the community? a year passed--two years--three--and though every one resolved himself into a watchman and hunter; though heralds cried rewards in the emperor's name three times each day on the street corners, and in every place of common resort; though the fame of the havoc, rapine, spoliation, or whatsoever it may please thee to call the visitation, was carried abroad until everybody here and there knew every particular come to light concerning it, with the pursuit, and the dragging and fishing in the sea, never a clew was found. one--two--three years, during which at intervals, some long, some short, the ancient christian centre kept on sealing its doors, and praying. finally the disappearances were about to be accepted as incidents liable to happen at any time to any young and pretty woman. they were placed in the category with death. there was mourning by friends--that was about all. how much longer the mystery would have continued may not be said.... now accidents may not have brought the world about, yet the world could not get along without accidents. to illustrate. a woman one day, wanting water for her household, let a bucket down one of the wells of the cistern, and drew up a sandal slippery and decaying. a sliver buckle adhered to it. upon inspecting the prize, a name was observed graven on its underside. the curious came to see--there was discussion--at length an examiner blessed with a good memory coupled the inscription with one of the lost women. it was indeed her name! a clew to the great mystery was at last obtained. the city was thrown into tumult, and an exploration of the cistern demanded. the authorities at first laughed. 'what!' they said. 'the royal reservoir turned into a den of murder and crime unutterable by christians!' but they yielded. a boat was launched on the darkened waters--but hold!" the voice of the speaker changed. something was occurring to stop the story. sergius had succumbed to interest in it; he was listening with excited sense, yet kept his semblance of sleep. "hold!" the narrator repeated, in an emphatic undertone. "see what there is in knowing to choose faithful allies! my watchman was right. she comes--she is here!" "who is here?" "she--the daughter of the old indian. in the sedan to my left--look!" sergius, catching the reply, longed to take the direction to himself, and look, for he was comprehending vaguely. a blindfolded man can understand quite well, if he is first informed of the business in progress, or if it be something with which he is familiar; imagination seems then to take the place of eyes. a detective, having overheard the conversation between the two men, had not required sight of them; but the young monk was too recently from the cloisters of bielo-osero to be quick in the discernment of villanies. he knew the world abounded in crime, but he had never dealt with it personally; as yet it was a destroying wolf howling in the distance. he yearned to see if what he dimly surmised were true--if the object at the moment so attractive to his dangerous neighbors were indeed the daughter of the strange indian he had met at the white castle. his recollection of her was wonderfully distinct. her face and demeanor when he assisted her from the boat had often reverted to his thought. they spoke to him so plainly of simplicity and dependence, and she seemed so pure and beautiful! and making the acknowledgment to himself, his heart took to beating quick and drum-like. he heard the shuffle and slide of the chairmen going; when they ceased a new and strange feeling came and possessed itself of his spirit, and led it out after her. still he managed to keep his head upon his arm. "by the saintly patron of thy father's brotherhood, she is more than lovely! i am almost persuaded." "ah, i am not so mad as i was!" the conspirator replied, laughing; then he changed to seriousness, and added, like one speaking between clinched teeth--"i am resolved to go on. i will have her--come what may, i will have her! i am neither a coward nor a bungler. thou mayst stay behind, but i have gone too far to retreat. let us follow, and see her again--my pretty princess!" "stay--a moment." perception was breaking in on sergius. he scarcely breathed. "well?" was the answer. "you were saying that a boat was launched in the cistern. then what?" "of discovery? oh, yes--the very point of my argument! a raft was found moored between four of the great pillars in the cistern, and there was a structure on it with furnished rooms. a small boat was used for going and coming." "wonderful!" "come--or we will lose the sight of her." "but what else?" "hooks, such as fishermen use in hunting lobsters were brought, and by dragging and fishing the missing women were brought to light--that is, their bones were brought to light. more i will tell as we go. i will not stay longer." sergius heard them depart, and presently he raised his head. his blood was cold with horror. he was having the awful revelation which sooner or later bursts upon every man who pursues a walk far in life. chapter vi a byzantine gentleman of the period sergius kept his seat on the bench; but the charm of the glorious prospect spread out before it was gone. two points were swimming in his consciousness, like motes in a mist: first, there was a conspiracy afoot; next, the conspiracy was against the daughter of the prince of india. when at the door of the old lavra upon the snow-bound shore of the white lake, he bade father hilarion farewell and received his blessing, and the commission of an evangel, the idea furthest from him was to signalize his arrival in constantinople by dropping first thing into love. and to be just, the idea was now as distant from him as ever; yet he had a vision of the child-faced girl he met on the landing at the white castle in the hands of enemies, and to almost any other person the shrinking it occasioned would have been strange, if not suspicious. his most definite feeling was that something ought to be done in her behalf. besides this the young monk had another incentive to action. in the colloquy overheard by him the chief speaker described himself a son of the hegumen of the st. james'. the st. james'! his own brotherhood! his own hegumen! could a wicked son have been born to that excellent man? much easier to disbelieve the conspirator; still there were traditions of the appearance of monsters permitted for reasons clear at least to providence. this might be an instance of the kind. doubtless the creature carried on its countenance or person evidences of a miracle of evil. in any event there could be no harm in looking at him. sergius accordingly arose, and set out in pursuit of the conspirators. could he overtake the sedan, they were quite certain to be in the vicinity, and he doubted not discovering them. the steps of the sedan-carriers, peculiarly quick and sliding, seemed in passing the bench to have been going northwardly toward point demetrius. thither he first betook himself. in the distance, over the heads of persons going and coming, he shortly beheld the top of a chair in motion, and he followed it rapidly, fearing its occupant might quit the wall by the stairs near the stables of the bucoleon. but when it was borne past that descent he went more leisurely, knowing it must meet him on the return. without making the point, however, the chair was put about toward him. unable to discover any one so much as suggestive of the plotters, and fearing a mistake, he peered into the front window of the painted box. a woman past the noon of life gave him back in no amiable mood the stare with which he saluted her. there was but one explanation: he should have gone down the wall southwardly. what was to be done? give up the chase? no, that would be to desert his little friend. and besides he had not put himself within hearing of the design against her--it was a doing of providence. he started back on his trace. the error but deepened his solicitude. what if the victim was then being hurried away? at the head of the stairway by the stables he paused; as it was deserted, he continued on almost running--on past the cracked bench--past the cleft gate. now, in front, he beheld the towers of the imperial residence bearing the name julian, and he was upbraiding himself for indecision, and loading his conscience with whatever grief might happen the poor girl, when he beheld a sedan coming toward him. it was very ornate, and in the distance shone with burnishments--it was the chair--hers. by it, on the right hand, strode the gigantic negro who had so astonished him at the white castle. he drew a long breath, and stopped. they would be bold who in daylight assailed that king of men! and he was taking note of the fellow's barbaric finery, the solemn stateliness of his air, and the superb indifference he manifested to the stare of passers-by, when a man approached the chair on the opposite side. the curtain of the front window was raised, and through it, sergius observed the inmate draw hastily away from the stranger, and drop a veil over her face. here was one of the parties for whom he was looking. where was the other? then the man by the left window looked back over his shoulder as if speaking, and out of the train of persons following the sedan, one stepped briskly forward, joined the intruder, and walked with him long enough to be spoken to, and reply briefly; after which he fell back and disappeared. this answered the inquiry. assured now of one of the conspirators in sight, the monk resolved to await the coming up. through the front window of the carriage, which was truly a marvel of polish and glitter, the girl might recognize him; perhaps she would speak; or possibly the negro might recall him; in either event he would have an excuse for intervention. meantime, calmly as he could--for he was young, and warm blooded, and in all respects a good instrument to be carried away by righteous indignation--he took careful note of the stranger, who kept his place as if by warrant, occasionally addressing the shrinking maiden. sergius was now more curious than angry; and he cared less to know who the conspirator was than how he looked. his surprise may be imagined when, the subject of investigation having approached near enough to be perfectly observed, instead of a monster marked, like cain, he appeared a graceful, though undersized person, with an agreeable countenance. the most unfavorable criticism he provoked was the loudness--if the word can be excused--of his dress. a bright red cloak, hanging in ample folds from an exaggerated buckle of purple enamel on his left shoulder, draped his left side; falling open on the right, it was caught by another buckle just outside the right knee. the arrangement loosed the right arm, but was a serious hamper to walking, and made it inconvenient to get out the rapier, the handle of which was protrusively suggested through the cloak. a tunic of bright orange color, short in sleeve and skirt, covered his body. where undraped, tight-fitting hose terminating in red shoes, flashed their elongated black and yellow stripes with stunning effect. a red cap, pointed at top, and rolled up behind, but with a long visor-like peak shading the eyes, and a white heron feather slanted in the band, brought the head into negligent harmony with the rest of the costume. the throat and left arm were bare, the latter from halfway above the elbow. this was the monk's first view of a byzantine gentleman of the period abroad in full dress to dazzle such of the gentler sex as he might chance to meet. if sergius' anticipation had been fulfilled; if, in place of the elegant, rakish-looking chevalier in florid garb, he had been confronted by an individual awry in body or hideous in feature, he would not have been confused, or stood repeating to himself, "my god, can this be a son of the hegumen?" that one so holy could have offspring so vicious stupefied him. the young man's sins would find him out--thus it was written--and then, what humiliation, what shame, what misery for the poor father! speeding his sympathy thus in advance, sergius waited until the foremost of the sedan carriers gave him the customary cry of warning. as he stepped aside, two things occurred. the occupant of the box lifted her veil and held out a hand to him. he had barely time to observe the gesture and the countenance more childlike because of the distress it was showing, when the negro appeared on the left side of the carriage. staying a moment to swing the javelin with which he was armed across the top of the buckler at his back, he leaped forward with the cry of an animal, and caught the gallant, one hand at the shoulder, the other at the knee. the cry and the seizure were parts of the same act. resistance had been useless had there been no surprise. the greek had the briefest instant to see the assailant--an instant to look up into the face blacker of the transport of rage back of it, and to cry for help. the mighty hands raised him bodily, and bore him swiftly toward the sea-front of the wall. there were spectators near by; amongst them some men; but they were held fast by terror. no one moved but sergius. having seen the provocation, he alone comprehended the punishment intended. the few steps to the wall were taken almost on the run. there, in keeping with his savage nature, the negro wished to see his victim fall, but a puff of wind blew the red cloak over his eyes, and he stopped to shake it aside. the greek in the interval seeing the jagged rocks below, and the waves rolling in and churning themselves into foam, caught at his enemy's head, and the teeth of the gold-gilt iron crown cut his palms, bringing the blood. he writhed, and into nilo's ears--pitiless if they had not been dead--poured screams for mercy. then sergius reached out, and caught him. nilo made no resistance. when he could free his eyes from the cloak he looked at the rescuer, who, unaware of his infirmity, was imploring him: "as thou lovest god, and hopest mercy for thyself, do no murder!" now, if not so powerful as nilo, sergius was quite as tall; and while they stood looking at each other, their faces a little apart, the contrast between them was many sided. and one might have seen the ferocity of the black visage change first with pleased wonder; then brighten with recognition. the byzantine gained his feet quickly, and in his turn taken with a murderous impulse, drew his sword. nilo, however, was quickest; the point of his javelin was magically promotive of sergius' renewed efforts to terminate the affair. a great many persons were now present. to bring a multitude in hot assemblage, strife is generally more potential than peace, assume what voice the latter may. these rallied to sergius' assistance; one brought the defeated youth his hat, fallen in the struggle; others helped him rearrange his dress; and congratulating him that he was alive, they took him in their midst, and carried him away. to have drawn upon such a giant! what a brave spirit the lad must possess! it pleased sergius to think he had saved the byzantine. his next duty was to go to the relief of the little princess. a dull fancy would have taught how trying the situation must have been to her; but with him the case was of a quick understanding quickened by solicitude. taking nilo with him, he made haste to the sedan. if we pause here, venturing on the briefest break in the narrative, it is for the reader's sake exclusively. he will be sure to see how fair the conditions are for a romantic passage between lael and sergius, and we fear lest he fly his imagination too high. it is true the period was still roseate with knighterrantry; men wore armor, and did battle behind shields; women were objects of devotion; conversation between lovers was in the style of high-flown courtesy, chary on one side, energized on the other by calls on the saints to witness vows and declarations which no saint, however dubious his reputation, could have listened to, much less excused; yet it were not well to overlook one or two qualifications. the usages referred to were by no means prevalent amongst christians in the east; in constantinople they had no footing at all. the two comneni, isaac and alexis, approached more nearly the western ideal of chivalry than any of the byzantine warriors; if not the only genuine knights of byzantium, they were certainly the last of them; yet even they stood aghast at the fantastic manners of the frankish armigerents who camped before their gates en route to the holy land. as a consequence, the language of ordinary address and intercourse amongst natives in the orient was simple and less discolored by what may be called pious profanity. their discourse was often dull and prolix, but never a composite of sacrilege and exaggeration. only in their writings were they pedantic. from this the reader can anticipate somewhat of the meeting between sergius and lael. it is to be borne in mind additionally that they were both young; she a child in years; he a child in lack of worldly experience. children cannot be other than natural. approaching the sedan anxiously, he found the occupant pale and faint. nilo being close at his side, she saw them both in the same glance, and reached her hand impulsively through the window. it was a question to which the member was offered. sergius hesitated. then she brought her face up unveiled. "i know you, i know you," she said, to sergius. "oh, i am so glad you are come! i was so scared--so scared--i will never go from home again. you will stay with me--say you will--it will be so kind of you.... i did not want nilo to kill the man. i only wanted him driven off and made let me alone. he has followed and persecuted me day after day, often as i came out. i could not set foot in the street without his appearing. my father would have me bring nilo along. he did not kill him, did he?" the hand remained held out during the speech, as if asking to be taken. meanwhile the words flowed like a torrent. the eyes were full of beseechment, and irresistibly lovely. if her speech was innocent, so was her appearance; and just as innocently, he took the hand, and held it while answering: "he was not hurt. friends have taken him away. do not be afraid." "you saved him. i saw you--my heart was standing still in my throat. oh, i am glad he is safe! i am no longer afraid. my father will be grateful; and he is generous--he loves me nearly as much as i love him. i will go home now. is not that best for me?" sergius had grown the tall man he was without having been so entreated--nay, without an adventure in the least akin to this. the hand lay in his folded lightly. he remembered once a dove flew into his cell. the window was so small it no doubt suggested to the poor creature a door to a nesting place. he remembered how he thought it a messenger from the heaven which he never gave over thinking of and longing for, and he wanted to keep it, for afterwhile he was sure it would find a way to tell him wherewith it was charged. and he took the gentle stray in his hand, and nursed it with exceeding tenderness. there are times when it seems such a blessing that memories lie shallow and easy to stir; and now he recalled how the winged nuncio felt like the hand he was holding--it was almost as soft, and had the same magnetism of life--ay, and the same scarce perceptible tremble. to be sure it was merely for the bird's sake he kept hold of the hand, while he answered: "yes, i think it best, and i will go with you to your father's door." to the carriers he said: "you will quit the wall at the grand stairs. the princess wishes to be taken home." the sensation of manliness incident to caring for the weak was refreshingly delightful. while the chair was passing he took place at the window. the fingers of the little hand still rested on the silken lining, like pinkish pearls. he beheld them longingly, but a restraint fell upon him. the pinkish pearls became sacred. he would have had them covered from the dust which the whisking breezes now blew up. the breezes were insolent. the sun, sinking in gold over the marmora, ought to temper the rays it let fall on them. long as the orb had shone, how curious that it never acquired art enough to know the things which too much of its splendor might spoil. then too he desired to speak with lael--to ask if she was any longer afraid--he could not. where had his courage gone? when he caught the young greek from nilo, the shortest while ago, he was wholly unconscious of timidity. the change was wonderful. nor was the awkwardness beginning to hamper his hands and feet less incomprehensible. and why the embarrassment when people paused to observe him? thus the party pursued on until the descent from the wall; he on the right side of the chair, and nilo on the left. down in the garden where they were following a walk across the terrace toward sta. sophia, lael put her face to the window, and spoke to him. his eagerness lest a word were lost was remarkable. he did not mind the stooping--and from his height that was a great deal--nor care much if it subjected him to remark. "have you seen the princess lately--she who lives at therapia?" lael asked. "oh, yes," he answered. "she is my little mother. i go up there often. she advises me in everything." "it must be sweet to have such a mother," lael said, with a smile. "it is sweet," he returned. "and how lovely she is, and brave and assuring," lael added. "why, i forgot when with her to be afraid. i forgot we were in the hands of those dreadful turks. i kept thinking of her, and not of myself." sergius waited for what more she had to say. "this afternoon a messenger came from her to my father, asking him to let me visit her." the heart of the monk gave a jump of pleasure. "and you will go?" a little older and wiser, and she would have detected a certain urgency there was in the tone with which he directed the inquiry. "i cannot say yet. i have not seen my father since the invitation was received; he has been with the emperor; but i know how greatly he admires the princess. i think he will consent; if so, i will go up to therapia to-morrow." sergius, silently resolving to betake himself thither early next morning, replied with enthusiasm: "have you seen the garden behind her palace?" "no." "well, of course i do not know what paradise is, but if it be according to my fancy, i should believe that garden is a piece of it." "oh, i know i shall be pleased with the princess, her garden--with everything hers." thereupon lael settled back in her chair, and nothing more was said till the sedan halted in front of the prince's door. appearing at the window there, she extended a hand to her escort. the pinkish pearls did not seem so far away as before, and they were now offered directly. he could not resist taking them. "i want you to know how very, very grateful i am to you," she said, allowing the hand to stay in his. "my father will speak to you about the day's adventure. he will make the opportunity and early.--but--but"-- she hesitated, and a blush overspread her face. "but what?" he said, encouragingly. "i do not know your name, or where you reside." "sergius is my name." "sergius?" "yes. and being a monk, i have a cell in the monastery of st. james of manganese. i belong to that brotherhood, and humbly pray god to keep me in good standing. now having told you who i am, may i ask"-- he failed to finish the sentence. happily she divined his wish. "oh," she said, "i am called gul-bahar by those who love me dearest, though my real name is lael." "by which am i to call you?" "good-by," she continued, passing his question, and the look of doubt which accompanied it. "good-by--the princess will send for me to-morrow." when the chair was borne into the house, it seemed to sergius the sun had rushed suddenly down, leaving a twilight over the sky. he turned homeward with more worldly matter to think of than ever before. for the first time in his life the cloister whither he was wending seemed lonesome and uncomfortable. he was accustomed to imagine it lighted and warmed by a presence out of heaven--that presence was in danger of supersession. occasionally, however, the girlish princess whom he was thus taking home with him gave place to wonder if the greek he had saved from nilo could be a son of the saintly hegumen; and the reflection often as it returned brought a misgiving with it; for he saw to what intrigues he might be subjected, if the claim were true, and the claimant malicious in disposition. when at last he fell asleep on his pillow of straw the vision which tarried with him was of walking with gul-bahar in the garden behind the homeric palace at therapia, and it was exceedingly pleasant. chapter vii a byzantine heretic while the venerable chapel on the way up the heights of blacherne was surrounded by the host of kneeling monastics, and the murmur of their prayers swept it round about like the sound of moaning breezes, a messenger found the hegumen of the st. james' with the compliments of the basileus, and a request that he come forward to a place in front of the door of the holy house. the good man obeyed; so the night long, maugre his age and infirmities, he stayed there stooped and bent, invoking blessings upon the emperor and empire; for he loved them both; and by his side sergius lingered dutifully torch in hand. twelve hours before he had engaged in the service worshipfully as his superior, nor would his thoughts have once flown from the mystery enacting; but now--alas, for the inconstancy of youth!--now there were intervals when his mind wandered. the round white face of the princess came again and again looking at him plainly as when in the window of the sedan on the promenade between the bucoleon and the sea. he tried to shut it out; but often as he opened the book of prayers which he carried in common with his brethren, trying to read them away; often as he shook the torch thinking to hide them in the resinous smoke, the pretty, melting, importunate eyes reappeared, their fascination renewed and unavoidable. they seemed actually to take his efforts to get away for encouragement to return. never on any holy occasion had he been so negligent--never had negligence on his part been so obstinate and nearly like sin. fortunately the night came to an end. a timid thing when first it peeped over the hills of scutari, the day emboldened, and at length filled the east, and left of the torches alive on the opposing face of blacherne only the sticks, the cups, and the streaming smoke. then the great host stirred, arose, and in a time incredibly brief, silently gave itself back to the city; while the basileus issued from his solitary vigils in the chapel, and, in a chastened spirit doubtless, sought his couch in one of the gilded interiors up somewhere under the tower of isaac. the hegumen of the st. james', overcome by the unwonted draughts upon his scanty store of strength, not to mention the exhaustion of spirit he had undergone, was carried home in a chair. sergius was faithful throughout. at the gate of the monastery he asked the elder's blessing. "depart not, my son; stay with me a little longer. thy presence is comforting to me." the adjuration prevailed. truth was, sergius wished to set out for therapia; but banishing the face of the little princess once more, he helped the holy man out of the chair, through the dark-stained gate, down along the passages, to his apartment, bare and penitential as that of the humblest neophyte of the brotherhood. having divested the superior of his robes, and, gently as he could, assisted him to lay his spent body on the narrow cot serving for couch, he then received the blessing. "thou art a good son, sergius," the hegumen said, with some cheer. "thou dost strengthen me. i feel thou art wholly given up to the master and his religion--nay, so dost thou look like the master that when thou art by i fancy it is he caring for me. thou art at liberty now. i give thee the blessing." sergius knelt, received the trembling hands on his bowed head, and kissed them with undissembled veneration. "father," he said, "i beg permission to be gone a few days." "whither?" "thou knowest i regard the princess irene as my little mother. i wish to go and see her." "at therapia?" "yes, father." the hegumen averted his eyes, and by the twitching of the fingers clasped upon his breast exposed a trouble at work in the depths of his mind. "my son," he at length said, "i knew the father of the princess irene, and was his sympathizer. i led the whole brotherhood in the final demand for his liberation from prison. when he was delivered, i rejoiced with a satisfied soul, and took credit for a large part of the good done him and his. it is not to magnify myself, or unduly publish my influence that the occurrence is recalled, but to show you how unnatural it would be were i unfriendly to his only child. so if now i say anything in the least doubtful of her, set it down to conscience, and a sense of duty to you whom i have received into the fraternity as one sent me specially by god.... the life the princess leads and her manners are outside the sanctions of society. there is no positive wrong in a woman of her degree going about in public places unveiled, and it must be admitted she does it most modestly; yet the example is pernicious in its effect upon women who are without the high qualities which distinguish her; at the same time the habit, even as she illustrates it, wears an appearance of defiant boldness, making her a subject of indelicate remark--making her, in brief, a topic for discussion. the objection, i grant, is light, being at worst an offence against taste and custom; much more serious is her persistence in keeping up the establishment at therapia. a husband might furnish her an excuse; but the turk is too near a neighbor--or rather she, a single woman widely renowned for beauty, is too tempting to the brutalized unbelievers infesting the other shore of the bosphorus. feminine timidity is always becoming; especially is it so when honor is more concerned than life or liberty. unmarried and unprotected, her place is in a holy house on the islands, or here in the city, where, aside from personal safety, she can have the benefit of holy offices. now rumor is free to accuse her of this and that, which charity in multitude and without stint is an insufficient mantle to save her from. they say she prefers guilty freedom to marriage; but no one, himself of account, believes it--the constitution of her household forbids the taint. they say she avails herself of seclusion to indulge uncanonized worship. in plain terms, my son, it is said she is a heretic." sergius started and threw up his hands. not that he was surprised at the charge, for the princess herself had repeatedly admitted it was in the air against her; but coming from the venerated chief of his brotherhood, the statement, though a hearsay, sounded so dreadfully he was altogether unprepared for it. knowing the consequences of heresy, he was also alarmed for her, and came near betraying himself. how interesting it would be to learn precisely and from the excellent authority before him, in what the heresy of the princess consisted. if there was criminality in her faith, what was to be said of his own? "father," he remarked, calmly as possible, "i mind not the other sayings, the reports which go to the princess' honor--they are the tarnishments which malice is always blowing on things white because they are white--but if it be not too trying to your strength, tell me more. wherein is she a heretic?" again, the gaunt fingers of the hegumen worked nervously, while his eyes averted themselves. "how can i satisfy your laudable question, my son, and be brief?" and with the words he brought his look back, resting it on the young man's face. "give attention, however, and i will try.... i take it you know the creed is the test of orthodoxy, and"--he paused and searched the eyes above his wistfully--"and that it has your unfaltering belief. you know its history, i am sure--at least you know it had issue from the council of nicaea over which constantine, the greatest of ail emperors, condescended to preside in person. never was proceeding more perfect; its perfection proved the divine mind in its composition; yet, sad to say, the centuries since the august council have been fruitful of disputes more or less related to those blessed canons, and sadder still, some of the disputes continue to this day. would to god there was no more to be said of them!" the good man covered his face with his hands, like one who would shut out a disagreeable sight. "but it is well to inform you, my son, of the questions whose agitation has at last brought the church down till only heaven can save it from rupture and ruin. oh, that i should live to make the acknowledgment--i who in my youth thought it founded on a rock eternal as nature itself!... a plain presentation of the subject in contention may help you to a more lively understanding of the gravity and untimeliness of the princess' departure.... first, let me ask if you know our parties by name. verily i came near calling them _factions_, and that i would not willingly, since it is an opprobrious term, resort to which would be denunciatory of myself--i being one of them." "i have heard of a roman party and of a greek party; but further, i am so recently come to constantinople, it would be safer did i take information of you." "a prudent answer, by our most excellent and holy patron!" exclaimed the hegumen, his countenance relaxing into the semblance of a smile. "be always as wise, and the st. james' will bless themselves that thou wert brought to us.... attend now. the parties are greek and roman; though most frequently its enemies speak of the latter as _azymites_, which you will understand is but a nickname. i am a romanist; the brotherhood is all roman; and we mind not when scholarius, and his arch-supporter, duke notaras, howl _azymite_ at us. a disputant never takes to contemptuous speeches except when he is worsted in the argument." the moderation of the hegumen had been thus far singularly becoming and impressive; now a fierce light gleamed in his eyes, and he cried, with a spasmodic clutch of the hands: "we are not of the forsworn! the curse of the perjured is not on our souls!" the intensity of his superior astonished sergius; yet he was shrewd enough to see and appreciate the disclosures of the outburst; and from that moment he was possessed of a feeling that the quarrel between the parties was hopelessly past settlement. if the man before him, worn with years, and actually laboring for the breath of life, could be so moved by contempt for the enemy, what of his co-partisans? age is ordinarily a tamer of the passions. here was an instance in which much contention long continued had counteracted the benign effect. as a teacher and example, how unlike this hegumen was to hilarion. the young man's heart warmed with a sudden yearning for the exile of the dear old lavra whose unfailing sweetness of soul could keep the frigid wilderness upon the white lake in summer purple the year round. never did love of man for man look so lovely; never did it seem so comprehensive and all sufficient! the nearest passion opposition could excite in that pure and chastened nature was pity. but here! quick as the reflection came, it was shut out. there was more to be learned. god help the heretic in the hands of this judge at this time! and with the mental exclamation sergius waited, his interest in the definition of heresy sharpened by personal concern. "there are five questions dividing the two parties," the hegumen continued, when the paroxysm of hate was passed. "listen and i will give them to you in naked form, trusting time for an opportunity to deal with them at large.... first then the procession of the holy ghost. that is, does the holy ghost proceed from the son, or from the father and the son? the greeks say from the son; the romans say the father and the son being one, the procession must needs be from both of them conjunctively.... next the nicene creed, as originally published, did undoubtedly make the holy ghost proceed from the father alone. the intent was to defend the unity of the godhead. subsequently the latins, designing to cast the assertion of the identity of the spirit of the father and the spirit of the son in a form which they thought more explicit, planted in the body of the creed the word _filioque_, meaning _from the son._ this the greeks declare an unwarranted addition. the latins, on their part, deny it an addition in any proper sense; they say it is but an explanation of the principle proclaimed, and in justification trace the usage from the fathers, greek and latin, and from councils subsequent to the nicene.... when we consider to what depths of wrangle the two themes have carried the children of god who should be brethren united in love, knowing rivalry only in zeal for the welfare of the church, that other subjects should creep in to help widen the already dangerous breach has an appearance like a judgment of god; yet it would be dealing unfairly with you, my son, to deny the pendency of three others in particular. of these we have first, shall the bread in the eucharist be leavened or unleavened? about six hundred years ago the latins began the use of unleavened bread. the greeks protested against the innovation, and through the centuries arguments have been bandied to and fro in good-natured freedom; but lately, within fifty years, the debate has degenerated into quarrel, and now--ah, in what terms suitable to a god-fearing servant can i speak of the temper signalizing the discussion now? let it pass, let it pass!... we have next a schism respecting purgatory. the greeks deny the existence of such a state, saying there are but two places awaiting the soul after death--heaven and hell." again the hegumen paused, arrested, as it were, by a return of vindictive passion. "oh, the schismatics!" he exclaimed. "not to see in the latin idea of a third place a mercy of god unto them especially! if only the righteous are admitted to the all holy father immediately upon the final separation of body and spirit; if there is no intermediate state for the purgation of such of the baptized as die sodden in their sins, what shall become of them?" sergius shuddered, but held his peace. "yet another point," the superior continued, ere the ruffle in his voice subsided--"another of which the wranglers have made the most; for as you know, my son, the greeks, thinking themselves teachers of all things intellectual, philosophy, science, poetry, art, and especially religion, and that at a period when the latins were in the nakedness of barbarism, are filled with pride, like empty bottles with air; and because in the light of history their pride is not unreasonable, they drop the more readily into the designs of the conspirators against the unity of the church--i speak now of the primacy. as if power and final judgment were things for distribution amongst a number of equals! as if one body were better of a hundred heads! who does not know that two wills equally authorized mean the absence of all will! of the foundations of god chaos alone is unorganized; and to such likeness scholarius would reduce christendom! god forbid! say so, my son--let me hear you repeat it after me--god forbid:" with an unction scarcely less fervid than his chief's, sergius echoed the exclamation; whereupon the elder looked at him, and said, with a flush on his face, "i fear i have given rein too freely to disgust and abhorrence. passion is never becoming in old men. lest you misjudge me, my son, i shall take one further step in explanation; it will be for you to then justify or condemn the feeling you have witnessed in me. a deeper wound to conscience, a grosser provocation to the divine vengeance, a perfidy more impious and inexcusable you shall never overtake in this life, though you walk in it thrice the years of noah.... there have been repeated attempts to settle the doctrinal differences to which i have referred. a little more than a hundred years ago--it was in the reign of andronicus iii.--one barlaam, a hegumen, like myself, was sent to italy by the emperor with a proposal of union; but benedict the pope resolutely refused to entertain the proposition, for the reason that it did not contemplate a final arrangement of the question at issue between the churches. was he not right?" sergius assented. "in , john v. palaeologus, under heavy pressure of the turks, renewed overtures of reconciliation, and to effectuate his purpose, he even became a catholic. then john vi., the late emperor, more necessitous than his predecessor, submitted such a presentation to the papal court that nicolos of cusa was despatched to constantinople to study and report upon the possibilities of a doctrinal settlement and union. in november, , the emperor, accompanied by joseph, the patriarch, besserion, archbishop of nicaea, and deputies empowered to represent the other patriarchs, together with a train of learned assistants and secretaries, seven hundred in all, set out for italy in response to the invitation of eugenius iv, the pope. landing at venice, the basileus was escorted to ferrara, where eugenius received him with suitable pomp. the council of basle, having been adjourned to ferrara for the better accommodation of the imperial guest, was opened there in april, . but the plague broke out, and the sessions were transferred to florence where the council sat for three years. dost thou follow me, my son?" "with all my mind, father, and thankful for thy painstaking." "nay, good sergius, thy attention more than repays me.... observe now the essentials of all the dogmatic questions i named to you as to-day serving the conspiracy against the unity of our beloved church were settled and accepted at the council of florence. the primacy of the roman bishop was the last to be disposed of, because distinguishable from the other differences by a certain political permeation; finally it too was reconciled in these words--bear them in memory, i pray, that you may comprehend their full import--'the holy apostolic see and roman pontiff hold the primacy over all the world; the roman pontiff is the successor of peter, prince of apostles, and he is the true vicar of christ, the head of the whole church, the father and teacher of all christians.' [footnote: addis and arnold's catholic die. .] in italy, --mark you, son sergius, but a trifle over eleven years ago--the members of the council from the east and west, the greeks with the latins--emperor, patriarchs, metropolitans, deacons, and lesser dignitaries of whatever title--signed a decree of union which we call the _hepnoticon_, and into which the above acceptances had been incorporated. i said all signed the decree--there were two who did not, mark of ephesus and the bishop stauropolis. the patriarch of constantinople, joseph, died during the council; yet the signatures of his colleagues collectively and of the emperor perfected the decree as to constantinople. what sayest thou, my son? as a student of holy canons, what sayest thou?" "i am but a student," sergius replied; "still to my imperfect perception the unity of the church was certainly accomplished." "in law, yes," said the hegumen, with difficulty rising to a sitting posture--"yes, but it remained to make the accomplishment binding on the consciences of the signatories. hear now what was done. a form of oath was draughted invoking the most awful maledictions on the parties who should violate the decree, and it was sworn to." "sworn to?" "ay, son sergius--sworn to by each and all of those attendant upon the council--from basileus down to the humblest catechumen inclusive, they took the oath, and by the taking bound their consciences under penalty of the eternal wrath of god. i spoke of certain ones forsworn, did i not?" sergius bowed. "and worse--i spoke of some whose souls were enduring the curse of the perjured. that was extreme--it was passion--i saw thee shudder at it, and i did not blame thee. hear me now, and thou wilt not blame me.... they came home, the basileus and his seven hundred followers. scarcely were they disembarked before they were called to account. the city, assembled on the quay, demanded of them: 'what have you done with us? what of our faith? have you brought us the victory?' the emperor hurried to his palace; the prelates hung their heads, and trembling and in fear answered: 'we have sold our faith--we have betrayed the pure sacrifice--we have become azymites.' [footnote: _hist. de l'eglise_ (l'abbe rohrbacher), d ed. vol. . . michel ducas.] thus spake bessarion; thus balsamon, archdeacon and guardian of the archives; thus gemiste of lacedaemon; thus antoine of heraclius; thus spake they all, the high and the low alike, even george scholarius, whom thou didst see marching last night first penitent of the vigils. 'why did you sign the decree?' and they answered, 'we were afraid of the franks.' perjury to impiety--cowardice to perjury!... and now, son sergius, it is said--all said--with one exception. some of the metropolitans, when they were summoned to sign the decree, demurred, 'without you pay us to our satisfaction we shall not sign.' the silver was counted down to them. nay, son, look not so incredulous--i was there--i speak of what i saw. what could be expected other than that the venals would repudiate everything? and so they did, all save metrophanes, the syncelle, and gregory, by grace of god the present patriarch. if i speak with heat, dost thou blame me? if i called the recusants forsworn and perjured, thinkest thou the pure in heaven charged my soul with a sin? answer as thou lovest the right?" "my father," sergius replied, "the denunciation of impiety cannot be sinful, else i have to unlearn all i have ever been taught; and being the chief shepherd of an honorable brotherhood, is it not thy duty to cry out at every appearance of wrong? that his serenity, the patriarch, receives thy acquittal and is notably an exception to a recusancy so universal, is comforting to me; to have to cast him out of my admiration would be grievous. but pardon me, if from fear thou wilt overlook it, i again ask thee to speak further of the heresy of the princess irene." sergius, besides standing with his back to the door of the cell, was listening to the hegumen with an absorption of sense so entire that he was unaware of the quiet entrance of a third party, who halted after a step or two but within easy hearing. "the request is timely--most timely," the hegumen replied, without regarding the presence of the newcomer. "i had indeed almost forgotten the princess.... with controversies such as i have recounted raging in the church, like wolves in a sheepfold, comes one with new doctrines to increase the bewilderment of the flock, how is he to be met? this is what the princess has done, and is doing." "still, father, you leave me in the dark." the hegumen faltered, but finally said: "apart from her religious views and novel habits, the princess irene is the noblest nature in byzantium. were we overtaken by some great calamity, i should look for her to rise by personal sacrifice into heroism. in acknowledgment of my fatherly interest in her, she has often entertained me at her palace, and spoken her mind with fearless freedom, leaving me to think her pursued by presentiments of a fatality which is to try her with terrible demands, and that she is already prepared to submit to them." "yes," said sergius, with an emphatic gesture, "there are who live martyrs all their days, reserving nothing for death but to bring them their crowns." the manner of the utterance, and the thought compelled the hegumen's notice. "my son," he said, presently, "thou hast a preacher's power. i wish i foreknew thy future. but i must haste or"-- "nay, father, permit me to help you recline again." and with the words, sergius helped the feeble body down. "thanks, my son," he received, in return, "i know thy soul is gentle." after a rest the speech was resumed. "of the princess--she is given to the scriptures; in the reading, which else would be a praiseworthy usage, she refuses light except it proceed from her own understanding. we are accustomed when in doubt--thou knowest it to be so--to take the interpretations of the fathers; but she insists the son of god knew what he meant better than any whose good intentions are lacking in the inspirations of the holy ghost." a gleam of pleasure flitted over the listener's countenance. "so," the hegumen continued, "she hath gone the length of fabricating a creed for herself, and substituting it for that which is the foundation of the church--i mean the creed transmitted to us from the council of nicaea." "is the substitute in writing, father?" "i have read it." "then thou canst tell me whence she drew it." "from the gospels word and word.... there now--i am too weak to enter into discussion--i can only allude to effects." "forgive another request"--sergius spoke hastily--"have i thy permission, to look at what she hath written?" "thou mayst try her with a request; but remember, my son"--the hegumen accompanied the warning with a menacious glance--"remember proselyting is the tangible overt act in heresy which the church cannot overlook.... to proceed. the princess' doctrines are damnatory of the nicene; if allowed, they would convert the church into a stumbling-block in the way of salvation. they cannot be tolerated.... i can no more--the night was too much for me. go, i pray, and order wine and food. to-morrow--or when thou comest again--and delay not, for i love thee greatly--we will return to the subject." sergius saw the dew gathering on the hegumen's pallid forehead, and observed his failing voice. he stooped, took the wan hand from the laboring breast, and kissed it; then turning about quickly to go for the needed restoration, he found himself face to face with the young greek whom he rescued from nilo in the encounter on the wall. chapter viii the academy of epicurus "i would have a word with you," the greek said, in a low tone, as sergius was proceeding to the door. "but thy father is suffering, and i must make haste." "i will accompany thee." sergius stopped while the young man went to the cot, removed his hat and knelt, saying, "thy blessing, father." the hegumen laid a hand on the petitioner's head. "my son, i have not seen thee for many days," he said; "yet in hope that thou hast heard me, and abandoned the associates who have been endangering thy soul and my good name, and because i love thee--god knows how well--and remember thy mother, who lived illustrating every beatitude, and died in grace, praying for thee, take thou my blessing." with tears starting in his own eyes, sergius doubted not the effect of the reproof upon the son; and he pitied him, and even regretted remaining to witness the outburst of penitence and grief he imagined forthcoming. the object of his sympathy took down the hand, kissed it in a matter-of-fact way, arose, and said, carelessly: "this lamentation should cease. why can i not get you to understand, father, that there is a new byzantium? that even in the hippodrome nothing is as it used to be except the colors? how often have i explained to you the latest social discovery admitted now by everybody outside the religious orders, and by many within them--i mean the curative element in sin." "curative element in sin!" exclaimed the father. "ay--pleasure." "o god!" sighed the old man, turning his face hopelessly to the wall, "whither are we drifting?" he hardly heard the prodigal's farewell. "if you wish to speak with me, stay here until i return." this sergius said when the two passed out of the cell. going down the darkened passage, he glanced behind him, and saw the greek outside the door; and when he came back with the hegumen's breakfast, and reentered the apartment, he brushed by him still on the outside. at the cot, sergius offered the refreshment on his knees, and in that posture waited while his superior partook of it; for he discerned how the aged heart was doubly stricken--once for the church, deserted by so many of its children, and again for himself, forsaken by his own son. "what happiness to me, o sergius, wert thou of my flesh and blood!" the expression covered every feeling evoked by the situation. afterwhile another of the brotherhood appeared, permitting sergius to retire. "i am ready to hear you now," he said, to the greek at the door. "let us to your cell then." in the cell, sergius drew forth the one stool permitted him by the rules of the brotherhood. "be seated," he said. "no," the visitor returned, "i shall be brief. you do not know my father. the st. james' should relieve him of active duty. his years are sadly enfeebling him." "but that would be ungrateful in them." "heaven knows," the prodigal continued, complainingly, "how i have labored to bring him up abreast of the time; he lives entirely in the past. but pardon me; if i heard aright, my father called you sergius." "that is my monastic name." "you are not a greek?" "the great prince is my political sovereign." "well, i am demedes. my father christened me metrophanes, after the late patriarch; but it did not please me, and i have entitled myself. and now we know each other, let us be friends." sergius' veil had fallen over his face, and while replacing it under the hat, he replied, "i shall strive, demedes, to love you as i love myself." the greek, it should be remembered, was good featured, and of a pleasant manner; so much so, indeed, as to partially recompense him for his failure in stature; wherefore the overture was by no means repulsive. "you may wonder at my plucking you from my father's side; you may wonder still more at my presumption in seeking to attach myself to you; but i think my reasons good.... in the first place, it is my duty to acknowledge that but for your interference yesterday the gigantic energumen by whom i was unexpectedly beset would have slain me. in fact, i had given myself up for lost. the rocks at the foot of the wall seemed springing out of the water to catch me, and break every bone in my body. you will accept my thanks, will you not?" "the saving two fellow beings, one from murder, the other from being murdered, is not, in my opinion, an act for thanks; still, to ease you of a sense of obligation, i consent to the acknowledgment." "it does relieve me," demedes said, with a taking air; "and i am encouraged to go on." he paused, and surveyed sergius deliberately from head to foot, and the admiration he permitted to be seen, taken as a second to his continuing words, could not have been improved by a professed actor. "are not flesh and blood of the same significance in all of us? with youth and health superadded to a glorious physical structure, may we not always conclude a man rich in spirit and lusty impulses? is it possible a gown and priestly hat can entirely suppress his human nature? i have heard of anthony the anchorite." the idea excited his humor, and he laughed. "i mean no irreverence," he resumed; "but you know, dear sergius, it is with laughter as with tears, we cannot always control it.... anthony resolved to be a saint, but was troubled by visions of beautiful women. to escape them, he followed some children of islam into the desert. alas! the visions went with him. he burrowed then in a tomb--still the visions. he hid next in the cellar of an old castle--in vain--the visions found him out. he flagellated himself for eighty and nine years, every day and night of which was a battle with the visions. he left two sheepskins to as many bishops, and one haircloth shirt to two favorite disciples--they had been his armor against the visions. finally, lest the seductive goblins should assail him in death, he bade the disciples lose him by burial in an unknown place. sergius, my good friend"--here the greek drew nearer, and laid a hand lightly on the monk's flowing sleeve--"i heard some of your replies to my father, and respect your genius too much to do more than ask why you should waste your youth"-- "forbear! go not further--no, not a word!" sergius exclaimed. "dost thou account the crown the saint at last won nothing?" demedes did not seem in the least put out by the demonstration; possibly he expected it, and was satisfied with the hearing continued him. "i yield to you," he said, with a smile, "and willingly since you convince me i was not mistaken in your perception.... my father is a good man. his goodness, however, but serves to make him more sensitive to opposition. the divisions of the church give him downright suffering. i have heard him go on about them hours at a time. probably his proneness to lamentation should be endured with respectful patience; but there is a peculiarity in it--he is blind to everything save the loss of power and influence the schisms are fated to entail upon the church. he fights valorously in season and out for the old orthodoxies, believing that with the lapse of religion as at present organized the respectability and dominion of the holy orders will also lapse. nay, sergius, to say it plainly, he and the brotherhood are fast keying themselves up to a point in fanaticism when dissent appears blackest heresy. to you, a straightforward seeker after information, it has never occurred, i suspect, to inquire how far--or rather how close--beyond that attainment lie punishments of summary infliction and most terrible in kind? torture--the stake--holocausts in the hippodrome--spectacles in the cynegion--what are they to the enthused churchmen but righteous judgments mercifully executed on wayward heretics? i tell you, monk--and as thou lovest her, heed me--i tell you the princess irene is in danger." this was unexpected, and forcibly put; and thinking of the princess, sergius lost the calmness he had up to this time successfully kept. "the princess--tortured--god forbid!" "recollect," the greek continued--"for you will reflect upon this--recollect i overheard the close of your interview with my father. to-morrow, or upon your return from therapia, be it when it may, he will interrogate you with respect to whatever she may confide to you in the least relative to the creed, which, as he states, she has prepared for herself. you stand warned. consider also that now i have in part acquitted myself of the obligation i am under to you for my life." the simple-mindedness of the monk, to whom the book of the world was just beginning to open, was an immense advantage to the greek. it should not be surprising, therefore, if the former relaxed his air, and leaned a little forward to hear what was further submitted to him. "have you breakfasted?" the prodigal asked, in his easy manner. "i have not." "ah! in concern for my father, you have neglected yourself. well, i must not be inconsiderate. a hungry man is seldom a patient listener. shall i break off now?" "you have interested me, and i may be gone several days." "very well. i will make haste. it is but justice to the belligerents in the spiritual war to admit the zeal they have shown; gregory the patriarch, and his latins, on the one side, and scholarius and his greeks on the other. they have occupied the pulpits alternately, each refusing presence to the other. they decline association in the sacramental rites. in sta. sophia, it is the papal mass to-day; to-morrow, it will be the greek mass. it requires a sharp sense to detect the opposition in smell between the incense with which the parties respectively fumigate the altars of the ancient house. i suppose there is a difference. yesterday the parabaloni came to blows over a body they were out burying, and in the struggle the bier was knocked down, and the dead spilled out. the greeks, being the most numerous, captured the labarum of the latins, and washed it in the mud; yet the monogram on it was identical with that on their own. still i suppose there was a difference." demedes laughed. "but seriously, sergius, there is much more of the world outside of the church--or churches, as you prefer--than on the inside. in the tearing each other to pieces, the militants have lost sight of the major part, and, as normally bound, it has engaged in thinking for itself. that is, the shepherd is asleep, the dogs are fighting, and the sheep, left to their individual conduct, are scattered in a hunt for fresher water and greener pasturage. have you heard of the academy of epicurus?" "no." "i will tell you about it. but do you take the seat there. it is not within my purpose to exhaust you in this first conference." "i am not tired." "well"--and the greek smiled pleasantly--"i was regardful of myself somewhat in the suggestion. my neck is the worse of having to look up so constantly.... the youth of byzantium, you must know, are not complaining of neglect; far from it--they esteem it a great privilege to be permitted to think in freedom. let me give you of their conclusions. there is no god, they say, since a self-respecting god would not tolerate the strife and babble carried on in his name to the discredit of his laws. religion, if not a deceit, is but the tinkling of brazen cymbals. a priest is a professor eking out an allowance of fine clothes and bread and wine; with respect to the multitude, he is a belled donkey leading a string of submissive camels. of what account are creeds except to set fools by the ears? which--not what--_which_ is the true christian faith? the patriarch tells us, 'verily it is this,' and scholarius replies, 'verily the patriarch is a liar and a traitor to god for his false teaching'--he then tells us it is that other thing just as unintelligible. left thus to ourselves--i acknowledge myself one of the wandering flock--flung on our own resources--we resorted to counselling each other, and agreed that a substitute for religion was a social necessity. our first thought was to revive paganism; worshipping many gods, we might peradventure stumble upon one really existent: whether good or bad ought not to trouble us, provided he took intelligent concern in the drift of things. to quarrel about his qualities would be a useless repetition of the folly of our elders--the folly of swimming awhile in a roaring swirl. some one suggested how much easier and more satisfactory it is to believe in one god than in many; besides which paganism is a fixed system intolerant of freedom. who, it was argued, would voluntarily forego making his own gods? the privilege was too delightful. then it was proposed that we resolve ourselves each into a god unto himself. the idea was plausible; it would at least put an end to wrangling, by giving us all an agreeable object to worship, while for mental demands and social purposes generally we could fall back on philosophy. had not our fathers tried philosophy? when had society a better well being than in the halcyon ages of plato and pythagoras? yet there was a term of indecision with us--or rather incubation. to what school should we attach ourselves? a copy of the enchiridion of epictetus fell into our hands, and after studying it faithfully, we rejected stoicism. the cynics were proposed; we rejected them--there was nothing admirable in diogenes as a patron. we next passed upon socratus. _sons of sophroniscus_ had a lofty sound; still his system of moral philosophy was not acceptable, and as he believed in a creative god, his doctrine was too like a religion. though the delphian oracle pronounced him the wisest of mankind, we concluded to look further, and in so doing, came to epicurus. there we stopped. his promulgations, we determined, had no application except to this life; and as they offered choice between the gratification of the senses and the practice of virtue, leaving us free to adopt either as a rule of conduct, we formally enrolled ourselves epicureans. then, for protection against the church, we organized. the departure might send us to the stake, or to tamerlane, king of the cynegion, or, infinitely worse, to the cloisters, if we were few; but what if we took in the youths of byzantium as an entirety? the policy was clear. we founded an academy--the academy of epicurus--and lodged it handsomely in a temple; and three times every week we have a session and lectures. our membership is already up in the thousands, selected from the best blood of the empire; for we do not confine our proselyting to the city." here sergius lifted his hand. he had heard the prodigal in silence, and it had been difficult the while to say which dominated his feeling--disgust, amazement, or pity. he was scarcely in condition to think; yet he comprehended the despairing cry of the hegumen, oh, my god! whither are we drifting? the possibilities of the scheme flew about him darkly, like birds in a ghastly twilight. he had studied the oppositions to religion enough to appreciate the attractive power there was for youth in the pursuit of pleasure. he knew also something of the race epicureanism had run in the old competitions of philosophy--that it had been embraced by more of the cultivated pagan world than the other contemporary systems together. it had been amongst the last, if not in fact the very last, of the conquests of christianity. but here it was again; nor that merely--here it was once more a subject of organized effort. who was responsible for the resurrection? the church? how wicked its divisions seemed to him! bishop fighting bishop--the clergy distracted--altars discredited--sacred ceremonies neglected--what did it all mean, if not an interregnum of the word? men cannot fight satan and each other at the same time. with such self-collection as he could command, he asked: "what have you in substitution of god and christ?" "a principle," was the reply. "what principle?" "pleasure, the purpose of this life, and its pursuit, an ennobled occupation." "pleasure to one is not pleasure to another--it is of kinds." "well said, o sergius! our kind is gratification of the senses. few of us think of the practice of virtue, which would be dreaming in the midst of action." "and you make the pursuit an occupation?" "in our regard the heroic qualities of human nature are patience, courage and judgment; hence our motto--patience, courage, judgment. the pursuit calls them all into exercise, ennobling the occupation." the greek was evidently serious. sergius ran him over from the pointed shoes to the red feather in the conical red hat, and said in accents of pity: "oh, alas! thou didst wrong in re-entitling thyself. depravity had been better than demedes." the greek lifted his brows, and shrugged his shoulders. "in the academy we are used to taking as well as giving," he said, wholly unembarrassed. "but, my dear sergius, it remains for me to discharge an agreeable commission. last night, in full session, i told of the affair on the wall. could you have heard my description of your intervention, and the eulogium with which i accompanied it, you would not have accused me of ingratitude. the brethren were carried away; there was a tempest of applause; they voted you a hero; and, without a dissent, they directed me to inform you that the doors of the academy were open"-- "stop," said sergius, with both hands up as if to avert a blow. after looking at the commissioner a moment, his eyes fiercely bright, he walked the floor of the cell twice. "demedes," he said, halting in front of the greek, a reactionary pallor on his countenance, "the effort thou art making to get away from god proves how greatly he is a terror to thee. the academy is only a multitude thou hast called together to help hide thee from christ. thou art an organizer of sin--a disciple of satan"--he was speaking not loud or threateningly, but with a force before which the other shrank visibly--"i cannot say i thank thee for the invitation on thy tongue unfinished, but i am better of not hearing it. get thee behind me." he turned abruptly, and started for the door. the greek sprang after him, and took hold of his gown. "sergius, dear sergius," he said, "i did not intend to offend you. there is another thing i have to speak about. stay!" "is it something different?" sergius asked. "ay--as light and darkness are different." "be quick then." sergius was standing under the lintel of the door. demedes slipped past him, and on the outside stopped. "you are going to therapia?" he asked. "yes." "the princess of india will be there. she has already set out." "how knowest thou?" "she is always under my eyes." the mockery in the answer reminded sergius of the academy. the prodigal was designing to impress him with an illustration of the principle it had adopted in lieu of god. the motto, he was having it thus early understood, was not an empty formula, but an inspiring symbol, like the cross on the flag. this votary, the advertisement as much as said, was in pursuit of the little princess--he had chosen her for his next offering to the principle which, like another god, was insatiable of gifts, sacrifices, and honors. such the thoughts of the monk. "you know her?" demedes asked. "yes." "you believe her the daughter of the prince of india?" "yes." "then you do not know her." the greek laughed insolently. "the best of us, and the oldest can be at times as much obliged by information as by a present of bezants. the academy sends you its compliments. the girl is the daughter of a booth-keeper in the bazaar--a jew, who has no princely blood to spare a descendant--a dog of a jew, who makes profit by lending his child to an impostor." "whence hadst thou this--this--" the greek paid no attention to the interruption. "the princess irene gives a fete this afternoon. the fishermen of the bosphorus will be there in a body. i will be there. a pleasant time to you, and a quick awakening, o sergius!" demedes proceeded up the passage, but turned about, and said: "patience, courage, judgment. when thou art witness to all there is in the motto. o sergius, it may be thou wilt be more placable. i shall see to it that the doors of the academy are kept open for thee." the monk stood awhile under the lintel bewildered; for the introduction to wickedness is always stunning--a circumstance proving goodness to be the natural order. chapter ix a fisherman's fete the breakfast to which sergius addressed himself was in strict observance of the rules of the brotherhood; and being plain, it was quickly despatched. returning to his cell, he let his hair loose, and combed it with care; then rolling it into a glistening mass, he tucked it under his hat. selecting a fresher veil next, he arranged that to fall down his back and over the left shoulder. he also swept the dark gown free of dust, and cleansing the crucifix and large black horn beads of his rosary, lingered a moment while contemplating the five sublime mysteries allotted to the third chaplet, beginning with the resurrection of christ and ending with the coronation of the blessed virgin. in a calmness of spirit such as follows absolution, he finally sallied from the monastery, and ere long arrived at the landing outside the fish market gate on the golden horn. the detentions had been long; so for speed he selected a two-oared boat. "to therapia--by noon," he said to the rower, and, dropping into the passenger's box, surrendered himself to reflection. the waterway by which the monk proceeded is not unfamiliar to the reader, a general idea of it having been given in the chapter devoted to the adventures of the prince of india in his outing up the bosphorus to the sweet waters of asia. the impression there sought to be conveyed--how feebly is again regretfully admitted--was of a panorama remarkable as a composition of all the elements of scenic beauty blent together in incomparable perfection. now, however, it failed the tribute customary from such as had happily to traverse it. the restfulness of the swift going; the shrinking of the flood under the beating of the oars; the sky and the wooded heights, and the stretches of shore, town and palace lined; the tearing through the blue veil hanging over the retiring distances; the birds, the breezes, the ships hither coming and yonder going, and the sparkles shooting up in myriad recurrence on the breaking waves--all these pleasures of the most delicate of the receiving senses were tyrannically forbidden him. the box in which he sat half reclining was wide enough for another passenger side by side with him, and it seemed he imagined the vacant place occupied now by demedes, and now by lael, and that he was speaking to them; when to the former, it was with dislike, and a disposition to avoid the touch of his red cloak, though on the sleeve ever so lightly; when to the latter, his voice would lower, his eyes soften, and the angry spots on his brow and cheeks go out--not more completely could they have disappeared had she actually exorcised them with some of the sweet confessions lovers keep for emergencies, and a touch of finger besides. "so," he would say, demedes for the time on the seat, "thou deniest god, and hast a plot against christ. shameful in the son of a good father!... what is thy academy but defiance of the eternal majesty? as well curse the holy ghost at once, for why should he who of preference seeketh a bed with the damned he disappointed? or is thy audacity a blasphemous trial of the endurance of forgiveness?".... exit demedes, enter lael.... "the child--she is a child! by such proof as there is in innocence, and in the loveliness of blushing cheeks, and eyes which answer the heavenly light they let in by light as heavenly let out, she is a child! what does evil see in her to set it hungering after her? or is there in virtue a signal to its enemies--lo, here! a light to be blown out, lest it disperse our darkness!".... reenter demedes.... "abduct her!--how?--when? to that end is it thou keepest her always under eye? the princess irene gives a fisherman's fete--the child will be there--thou wilt be there. is this the day of the attempt? bravos as fishermen, to seize her--boats to carry her off--the bosphorus wide and deep, and the hills beyond a hiding-place, and in the sky over them the awful name turk. the crime and the opportunity hand in hand! let them prosper now, and i who have from the cradle's side despatched my soul faith in hand to lay it at heaven's gate may never again deny a merit in the invocation of sin virtuous as prayer".... to lael in the seat.... "but be not afraid. i will be there also. i"... a sudden fear fell upon him. if the abduction were indeed arranged for the afternoon, to what might he not be led by an open attempt to defeat it? bloodshed--violence! he whose every dream had been of a life in which his fellow-men might find encouragement to endure their burdens, and of walking before them an example of love and forbearance, submissive and meek that he might with the more unanswerable grace preach obedience and fraternity to them--merciful heaven! and he shuddered and drew the veil hastily over his face, as if, in a bloody tumult, the ideal life, so the ultimate happiness, were vanishing before his eyes. taking the confessions of such as have been greatly tried, few men, few even of those renowned for courage and fine achievement, ever pass their critical moments of decision unassailed by alternative suggestions due to fear. sergius heard them now. "return to thy cell, and to thy beads, and prayer," they seemed to say. "what canst thou, a stranger in a strange land, if once the academy of which thou wert this morning informed, becomes thy enemy? ay, return to thy cell! who is she for whom thou art putting thyself in the way of temptation? the daughter of a booth-keeper in the bazaar--a jew, who hath no princely blood to spare a descendant--a dog of a jew, who maketh profit by lending his child to an impostor." the suggestion was powerful. in the heat of the debate, however, an almost forgotten voice reached him, reciting one of the consolations of father hilarion: "temptations are for all of us; nor shall any man be free of them. the most we can hope is to be delivered from them. what vanity to think we can travel threescore and ten years from our cradles, if so long we live, without an overture of some kind from the common enemy! on the other side, what a triumph to put his blandishments by! the great exemplar did not fly from satan; he stayed, and overcame him." "be not afraid," sergius said, as if to lael, and firmly, like one resolved of fear and hesitation. "i will be there also." then looking about him, at his left hand he beheld the village of emirghian, bent round a mountain's base, in places actually invading the water. in face of such a view a susceptible nature must needs be very sick of soul to go blindly on. the brightly painted houses cast tremulous reflections to a vast depth in the limpid flood, and where they ceased, down immeasurably, the vivid green of the verdure on the mountain's breast suggested the beginning of the next of the seven mohammedan earths. above this borrowed glory he seemed afloat; and to help the impression, the sound of many voices singing joyously was borne to him. he waved his hand, and the rowers, resting from their labor, joined him in listening. the little gulf of stenia lies there landlocked, and out of it a boat appeared, skimming around the intervening promontory. in a mass of flowers, in a shade of garlands hanging from a low mast, its arms and shrouds wreathed with roses, the singers sat timing their song with their oars. the refrain was supported by zitheras, flutes and horns. the vessel turned northwardly when fairly out in the strait; and then another boat came round the point--and another--and another--and many others, all decorated, and filled with men, women and children making music. sergius' boatmen recognized the craft, deep in the water, black and long, and with graceful upturned ends. "fishermen!" they said. and he rejoined: "yes. the princess irene gives them a fete. make haste. i will go with them. fall in behind." "yes, yes--a good woman! of such are the saints!" they said, signing the cross on breast arid brow. the singing and the gala air of the party put sergius in his wonted spirits; and as here and there other boats fell into the line, similarly decorated, their occupants adding to the volume of the singing, by the time therapia was sighted the good-natured, happy fishermen had given him of their floral abundance, and adopted him. what a scene the therapian bay presented! boats, boats, boats--hundreds of them in motion, hundreds lining the shore, the water faithfully repeating every detail of ornature, and apparently a-quiver with pleasure. the town was gay with colors; while on the summit and sides of the opposite promontory every available point answered flaunt with flaunt. and there were song and shouting, gladsome cries of children, responses of mothers, and merriment of youth and maiden. byzantium might be in decadence, her provinces falling away, her glory wasting; the follies of the court and emperors, the best manhood of the empire lost in cloisters and hermitages, the preference of the nobility for intrigue and diplomacy might be all working their deplorable results--nay, the results might be at hand! still the passion of the people for fetes and holidays remained. tastes are things of heredity. in nothing is a byzantine of this day so nearly a classic greek as in his delicacy and appreciation where permitted to indulge in the beautiful. the boatmen passed through the gay entanglement of the bay slowly and skilfully, and finally discharged their passengers on the marble quay a little below the regular landing in front of the red pavilion over the entrance to the princess' grounds. the people went in and out of the gate without hindrance; nor was there guard or policeman visible. their amiability attested their happiness. the men were mostly black-bearded, sunburned, large-handed, brawny fellows in breeches black and amply bagged, with red sashes and light blue jackets heavily embroidered. the legs below the knees were exposed, and the feet in sandals. white cloths covered their heads. their eyes were bright, their movements agile, their air animated. many of them sported amulets of shell or silver suspended by ribbons or silken cords around their bare necks. the women wore little veils secured by combs, but rather as a headdress, and for appearances. they also affected the sleeveless short jacket over a snowy chemise; and what with bright skirts bordered with worsted chenille, and sandal straps carried artfully above the ankles, they were not wanting in picturesqueness. some of the very young amongst them justified the loveliness traditionally ascribed to the nymphs of hellas and the fair cycladean isles. much the greater number, however, were in outward seeming prematurely old, and by their looks, their voices ungovernably shrill, and the haste and energy with which they flung themselves into the amusement of the hour unconsciously affirmed that fishermen's wives are the same everywhere. one need not go far to find the frontiers of society--too frequently they are close under the favorite balcony of the king. something on the right cheek of the gate under the pavilion furnished an attraction to the visitors. when sergius came up, he was detained by a press of men and women in eager discussion; and following their eyes and the pointing of their fingers, he observed a brazen plate overhead curiously inscribed. the writing was unintelligible to him as to his neighbors. it looked turkish--or it might have been arabic--or it might not have been writing at all. he stayed awhile listening to the conjectures advanced. presently a gypsy approached leading a bear, which, in its turn, was drawing a lot of noisy boys. he stopped, careless of the unfriendly glances with which he was received, and at sight of the plate saluted it with a low salaam several times unctuously repeated. "look at the hamari there. he can tell what the thing means." "then ask him." "i will. see here, thou without a religion, consort of brutes! canst thou tell what this"--pointing to the plate--"is for? come and look at it!" "it is not needful for me to go nearer. i see it well enough. neither am i without a religion. i do not merely profess belief in god--i believe in him," the bear-keeper replied. the fisherman took the retort and the laugh it occasioned good-humoredly, and answered: "very well, we are even; and now perhaps thou canst tell me what i asked." "willingly, since thou canst be decent to a stranger.... the young mahommed, son of amurath, sultan of sultans"--the gypsy paused to salute the title--"the young mahommed, i say, is my friend." the bystanders laughed derisively, but the man proceeded. "he has resided this long time at magnesia, the capital of a prosperous province assigned to his governorship. there never was one of such station so civil to his people, and much learning has had a good effect upon his judgment; it has taught him that the real virtue of amusement lies in its variety. did he listen exclusively to his doctors discoursing of philosophy, or to his professor of mathematics, or to his poets and historians, he would go mad even as they are mad; wherefore, along with his studies, he hunts with hawk and hound; he tilts and tourneys; he plays the wandering minstrel; and not seldom joqard and i--hey, fellow, is it not so?" he gave the bear a tremendous jerk--"joqard and i have been to audience with him in his palace." "a wonderful prince no doubt; but i asked not of him. the plate, man--what of this plate? if nothing, then give way to joqard." "there are fools and fools--that is, there are plain fools and wise fools. the wise fool answering the plain fool, is always more particular with his premises than his argument." the laugh was with the hamari again; after which he continued: "so, having done with explanation, now to satisfy you." from the breast of his gown, he brought forth a piece of bronze considerably less than the plate on the gate, but in every other respect its counterpart. "see you this?" he said, holding the bronze up to view. there was quick turning from plate to plate, and the conclusion was as quick. "they are the same, but what of it?" "this--joqard and i went up one day and danced for the prince, and at the end he dismissed us, giving me a red silk purse fat with gold pieces, and to joqard this passport. mark you now. the evil minded used to beat us with cudgels and stones--i mean among the turk--but coming to a town now, i tie this to joqard's collar, and we have welcome. we eat and drink, and are given good quarters, and sped from morning to morning without charge." "there is some magic in the plate, then?" "no," said the hamari, "unless there is magic in the love of a people for the prince to be their ruler. it certifies joqard and i are of prince mahommed's friends, and that is enough for turks; and the same yonder. by the sign, i know this gate, these grounds, and the owner of them are in his protection. but," said the bear-keeper, changing his tone, "seeing one civil answer deserves another, when was prince mahommed here?" "in person? never." "oh, he must have been." "why do you say so?" "because of the brass plate yonder." "what does it prove?" "ah, yes!" the man answered laughingly. "joqard and i pick up many odd things, and meet a world of people--don't we, fellow?" another furious jerk of the leading strap brought a whine from the bear, "but it is good for us. we teach school as we go; and you know, my friend, for every _solidus_ its equivalent in _noumia_ is somewhere." "i will give you a _noumia_, if you will give me an answer." "a bargain--a bargain, with witnesses!" then after a glance into the faces around, as if summoning attention to the offer, the hamari proceeded. "listen. i say the brass up there proves prince mahommed was here in person. wishing to notify his people that he had taken in his care everything belonging to this property, the owner included, the prince put his signature to the proclamation." "proclamation?" "yes--you may call it plain brass, if you prefer; none the less the writing on it is _mahommed:_ and because such favors must bear his name on them, they are reserved for his giving. no other man, except the great sultan, his father, would bestow one of them. joqard had his from the prince's hand directly; wherefore--i hope, friend, you have the _noumia_ ready--the brass on this post must have been fixed there by the prince with his own hand." the fishermen were satisfied; and it was wonderful how interesting the safeguard then became to them. by report they knew mahommed the prospective successor of the terrible amurath; they knew him a soldier conspicuous in many battles; and from the familiar principle by which we admire or dread those possessed of qualities unlike and superior to our own, their ideas and speculations concerning him were wild and generally harsh. making no doubt now that he had really been to the gate, they asked themselves, what could have been his object? to look at the plate was next thing to looking at the man. even sergius partook of the feeling. to get a better view, he shifted his position, and was beset by inquietudes not in the understanding of the fishermen. the princess irene, her property and dependents, were subjects of protection by the moslem; that much was clear; but did she know the fact? had she seen the prince? then the hegumen's criticism upon the persistence with which she kept her residence here, a temptation to the brutalized unbeliever on the other shore, derived a point altogether new. sergius turned away, and passed into the well-tended grounds. while too loyal to the little mother, as he tenderly called the princess, to admit a suspicion against her, with painful clearness, he perceived the opportunity the affair offered her enemies for the most extreme accusations; and he resolved to speak to her, and, if necessary, to remonstrate. traversing the shelled roadway up to the portico of the palace, he looked back through the red pavilion, and caught a glimpse of joqard performing before a merry group of boys and elders male and female. chapter x the hamari the love of all things living which was so positively a trait of character with the princess irene was never stinted in her dealings with her own country folk. on this occasion her whole establishment at therapia was accorded her guests; yet, while they wandered at will merry-making through the gardens, and flashed their gay colors along the side and from the summit of the promontory, they seemed to have united in holding the palace in respectful reserve. none of them, without a special request, presumed to pass the first of the steps leading up into the building. when sergius, approaching from the outer gate, drew nigh the front of the palace, he was brought to a stop by a throng of men and women packed around a platform the purpose of which was declared by its use. it was low, but of generous length and breadth, and covered with fresh sail-cloth; at each corner a mast had been raised, with yard-arms well squared, and dressed profusely in roses, ferns, and acacia fronds. on a gallery swung to the base of the over-pending portico, a troupe of musicians were making the most of flute, cithara, horn, and kettle-drum, and not vainly, to judge from the flying feet of the dancers in possession of the boards. lifting his eyes above the joyous exhibition, he beheld the carven capitals of the columns, tied together with festoonery of evergreens, and relieved by garlands of shining flowers, and above the musicians, under a canopy shading her from the meridian sun, the princess irene herself. a bright carpet hanging down the wall enriched the position chosen by her, and in the pleasant shade, surrounded by young women, she sat with uncovered head and face, delighted with the music and the dancing--delighted that it was in her power to bring together so many souls to forget, though so briefly, the fretting of hard conditions daily harder growing. none knew better than she the rapidity of the national decadence. it was not long until the young hostess noticed sergius, taller of his high hat and long black gown; and careless as usual of the conventionalities, she arose, and beckoned to him with her fan; and the people, seeing whom she thus honored, opened right and left, and with good-will made way for him. upon his coming her attendants drew aside--all but one, to whom for the moment he gave but a passing look. the princess received him seated. the youthful loveliness of her countenance seemed refined by the happiness she was deriving from the spectacle before her. he took the hand she extended him, kissed it respectfully, with only a glance at the simple but perfected greek of her costume, and immediately the doubts, and fears, and questions, and lectures in outline he had brought with him from the city dropped out of mind. suspicion could not look at her and live. "welcome, sergius," she said, with dignity. "i was afraid you would not come to-day." "why not? if my little mother's lightest suggestions are laws with me, what are her invitations?" for the first time he had addressed her by the affectionate term, and the sound was startling. the faintest flush spread over her cheek, admonishing him that the familiarity had not escaped attention. greatly to his relief, she quietly passed the matter. "you were at the _pannychides?_" she asked. "yes, till daybreak." "i thought so, and concluded you would be too weary to see us to-day. the mystery is tedious." "it might become so if too frequently celebrated. as it was, i shall not forget the hillside, and the multitude of frocked and cowled figures kneeling in the dim red light of the torches. the scene was awful." "did you see the emperor?" she put the question in a low tone. "no," he returned. "his majesty sent for our hegumen to come to the chapel. the good man took me with him, his book and torch bearer; but when we arrived, the emperor had passed in and closed the door, and i could only imagine him on his knees alone in the room, except as the relics about him were company." "how unspeakably dismal!" she said with a shudder, adding in sorrowful reflection, "i wish i could help him, for he is a prince with a tender conscience; but there is no way--at least heaven does not permit me to see anything for him in my gift but prayer." sergius followed her sympathetically, and was surprised when she continued, the violet gray of her eyes changing into subtle fire. "a sky all cloud; the air void of hope; enemies mustering everywhere on land; the city, the court, the church rent by contending factions--behold how a christian king, the first one in generations, is plagued! ah, who can interpret for providence? and what a miracle is prophecy!" thereupon the princess bethought herself, and cast a hurried glance out over the garden. "no, no! if these poor souls can forget their condition and be happy, why not we? tell me good news, sergius, if you have any--only the good. but see! who is he making way through the throng yonder? and what is it he is leading?" the transition of feeling, though sudden and somewhat forced, was successful; the princess' countenance again brightened; and turning to follow her direction, sergius observed lael, who had not fallen back with the other attendants. the girl had been a modest listener; now there was a timid half smile on her face, and a glistening welcome in her eyes. his gaze stopped short of the object which had inspired his hostess with such interest, and dropped to the figured carpet at the guest's feet; for the feeling the recognition awakened was clouded with the taunt demedes had flung at him in the hall of the monastery, and he questioned the rightfulness of this appearance. if she were not the daughter of the prince of india, she was an--impostor was the word in his mind. "i was expecting you," she said to him, artlessly. sergius raised his face, and was about to speak, when the princess started from her seat, and moved to the low balustrade of the portico. "come," she called, "come, and tell me what this is." sergius left a friendly glance with lael. where the roadway from the gate led up to the platform an opening had been made in the close wall of spectators attracted by the music and dancing. in the opening, the hamari was slowly coming forward, his turban awry, his brown face overrun and shining with perspiration, his sharp gypsy eyes full of merriment. with the leading strap over a shoulder, he tugged at joqard. sergius laughed to see the surprise of the men and women, and at the peculiar yells and screams with which they struggled to escape. but everybody appearing in good nature, he said to the princess: "do not be concerned. a turk or persian with a trained bear. i passed him at the gate." he saw the opportunity of speaking about the brass plate on the post, and while debating whether to avail himself of it, the hamari caught sight of the party at the edge of the portico, stopped, surveyed them, then prostrated himself in the abjectest eastern manner. the homage was of course to the princess--so at least the assemblage concluded; and jumping to the idea that the bear-keeper had been employed by her for their divertisement, each man in the company resolved himself into an ally and proceeded to assist him. the musicians were induced to suspend their performance, and the dancers to vacate the platform; then, any number of hands helping them up, joqard and his master were promoted to the boards, sole claimants of attention and favor. the fellow was not in the least embarrassed. he took position on the platform in front of the princess, and again saluted her orientally, and with the greatest deliberation, omitting no point of the prostration. bringing the bear to a sitting posture with folded paws, he bowed right and left to the spectators, and made a speech in laudation of joqard. his grimaces and gesticulation kept the crowd in a roar; when addressing the princess, his manner was respectful, even courtierly. joqard and he had travelled the world over; they had been through the far east, and through the lands of the frank and gaul; they had crossed europe from paris to the black sea, and up to the crimea; they had appeared before the great everywhere--indian rajahs, tartar khans, persian shahs, turkish sultans; there was no language they did not understand. the bear, he insisted, was the wisest of animals, the most susceptible of education, the most capable and willing in service. this the ancients understood better than the moderns, for in recognition of his superiority they had twice exalted him to the heavens, and in both instances near the star that knew no deviation. the hamari was a master of amplification, and his anecdotes never failed their purpose. "now," he said, "i do not care what the subject of discourse may be; one thing is true--my audience is always composed of believers and unbelievers; and as between them"--here he addressed himself to the princess--"as between them, o most illustrious of women, my difficulty has been to determine which class is most to be feared. every philosopher must admit there is quite as much danger in the man who withholds his faith when it ought to be given, as in his opposite who hurries to yield it without reason. my rule as an auditor is to wait for demonstration. so"--turning to the assemblage--"if here any man or woman doubts that the bear is the wisest of animals, and joqard the most learned and accomplished of bears, i will prove it." then joqard was called on. "for attend, o illustrious princess!--and look ye, o men and women, pliers of net and boat!--look ye all! now shall joqard himself speak for joqard." the hamari began talking to the bear in a jargon utterly unintelligible to his hearers, though they fell to listening with might and main, and were silent that they might hear. nothing could have been more earnest than his communications, whatever they were; at times he put an arm about the brute's neck; at times he whispered in its ear; and in return it bowed and grunted assent, or growled and shook its head in refusal, always in the most knowing manner. in this style, to appearance, he was telling what he wanted done. then retaining the leading strap, the master stepped aside, and joqard, left to himself, proceeded to prove his intelligence and training by facing the palace, bringing his arms overhead, and falling forward. everybody understood the honor intended for the princess; the bystanders shouted; the attendants on the portico clapped their hands, for indeed never in their remembrance had the prostration been more profoundly executed. arising nimbly the performer wheeled about, reared on his hind feet, clasped his paws on his head, and acknowledged the favor of the commonalty by resolving himself into a great fur ball, and rolling a somersault. the acclamation became tumultuous. one admirer ran off and returned with an armful of wreaths and garlands, and presently joqard was wearing them royally. with excellent judgment the hamari proceeded next to hurry the exhibition, passing from one trick to another almost without pause until the wrestling match was reached. this has been immemorially the reliable point in performances of the kind he was giving, but he introduced it in a manner of his own. standing by the edge of the platform, as the friend and herald of joqard, he first loudly challenged the men before him, every one ambitious of honor and renown, to come up and try a fall; and upon their hanging back, he berated them. wherever a tall man stood observable above the level of heads, he singled him out. failing to secure a champion, he finally undertook the contest himself. "ho, joqard," he cried, while tying the leading strap around the brute's neck, "thou fearest nothing. thy dam up in the old caucasian cave was great of heart, and, like her, thou wouldst not quail before hercules, were he living. but thou shalt not lick thy paws and laugh, thinking hercules hath no descendant." retiring a few steps he tightened the belt about his waist, and drew his leathern jacket closer. "get ready!" he cried. joqard answered promptly and intelligently by standing up and facing him, and in sign of satisfaction with the prospect of an encounter so to his taste, he lolled the long red tongue out of his jaws. was he licking his chops in anticipation of a feast or merely laughing? the beholders became quiet; and sergius for the first time observed how very low in stature the hamari seemed. "look out, look out! o thou with the north star in the tip of thy tail! i am coming--for the honor of mankind, i am coming." they danced around each other watching for an opening. "aha! now thou thinkest to get the advantage. thou art proud of thy fame, and cunning, but i am a man. i have been in many schools. look out!" the hamari leaped in and with both hands caught the strap looped around joqard's neck; at the same time he was himself caught in joqard's ready arms. the growl with which the latter received the attack was angry, and lent the struggle much more than a mere semblance of danger. round and about they were borne; now forward, then back; sometimes they were likely to tumble from the boards. the hamari's effort was to choke joqard into submission; joqard's was to squeeze the breath out of the hamari's body; and they both did their parts well. after some minutes the man's exertions became intermittent. a little further on the certainty of triumph inspired joqard to fierce utterances; his growls were really terrible, and he hugged so mercilessly his opponent grew livid in the face. the women and children began to cry and scream, and many of the men shouted in genuine alarm: "see, see! the poor fellow is choking to death!" the excitement and fear extended to the portico; some of the attendants there, unable to endure the sight, fled from it. lael implored sergius to save the hamari. even the princess was undecided whether the acting was real or affected. finally the crisis came. the man could hold out no longer; he let go his grip on the strap, and, struggling feebly to loose his body from the great black arms, shouted hoarsely: "help, help!" as if he had not strength to continue the cry, he threw his hands up, and his head back gasping. the princess irene covered her eyes. sergius stepped over the balustrade; but before he could get further, a number of men were on the stage making to the rescue. and seeing them come, the hamari laid one hand on the strap, and with the other caught the tongue protruding from joqard's open jaws; as a further point in the offensive so suddenly resumed, he planted a foot heavily on one of his antagonist's. immediately the son of the proud caucasian dam was flat on the boards simulating death. then everybody understood the play, and the merriment was heightened by the speech the hamari found opportunity to make his rescuers before they could recover from their astonishment and break up the tableau they formed. the princess, laughing through her tears, flung the victor some gold pieces, and lael tossed her fan to him. the prostrations with which he acknowledged the favors were marvels to behold. by and by, quiet being restored, joqard was roused from his trance, and the hamari, calling the musicians to strike up, concluded the performance with a dance. down and out in the magic kingdom cory doctorow copyright cory doctorow doctorow@craphound.com http://www.craphound.com/down tor books, january isbn: -- ======= blurbs: ======= he sparkles! he fizzes! he does backflips and breaks the furniture! science fiction needs cory doctorow! bruce sterling author, the hacker crackdown and distraction # in the true spirit of walt disney, doctorow has ripped a part of our common culture, mixed it with a brilliant story, and burned into our culture a new set of memes that will be with us for a generation at least. lawrence lessig author, the future of ideas # cory doctorow doesn't just write about the future - i think he lives there. down and out in the magic kingdom isn't just a really good read, it's also, like the best kind of fiction, a kind of guide book. see the tomorrowland of tomorrow today, and while you're there, why not drop by frontierland, and the haunted mansion as well? (it's the mansion that's the haunted heart of this book.) cory makes me feel nostalgic for the future - a dizzying, yet rather pleasant sensation, as if i'm spiraling down the tracks of space mountain over and over again. visit the magic kingdom and live forever! kelly link author, stranger things happen # down and out in the magic kingdom is the most entertaining and exciting science fiction story i've read in the last few years. i love page- turners, especially when they are as unusual as this novel. i predict big things for down and out -- it could easily become a breakout genre- buster. mark frauenfelder contributing editor, wired magazine # imagine you woke up one day and walt disney had taken over the world. not only that, but money's been abolished and somebody's developed the cure for death. welcome to the bitchun society--and make sure you're strapped in tight, because it's going to be a wild ride. in a world where everyone's wishes can come true, one man returns to the original, crumbling city of dreams--disney world. here in the spiritual center of the bitchun society he struggles to find and preserve the original, human face of the magic kingdom against the young, post-human and increasingly alien inheritors of the earth. now that any experience can be simulated, human relationships become ever more fragile; and to julius, the corny, mechanical ghosts of the haunted mansion have come to seem like a precious link to a past when we could tell the real from the simulated, the true from the false. cory doctorow--cultural critic, disneyphile, and ultimate early adopter --uses language with the reckless confidence of the beat poets. yet behind the dazzling prose and vibrant characters lie ideas we should all pay heed to. the future rushes on like a plummeting roller coaster, and it's hard to see where we're going. but at least with this book doctorow has given us a map of the park. karl schroeder author, permanence # cory doctorow is the most interesting new sf writer i've come across in years.Ê he starts out at the point where older sf writers' speculations end.Ê it's a distinct pleasure to give him some whuffie. rudy rucker author, spaceland # cory doctorow rocks! i check his blog about ten times a day, because he's always one of the first to notice a major incursion from the social-technological-pop-cultural future, and his voice is a compelling vehicle for news from the future. down and out in the magic kingdom is about a world that is visible in its outlines today, if you know where to look, from reputation systems to peer-to-peer adhocracies. doctorow knows where to look, and how to word-paint the rest of us into the picture. howard rheingold author, smart mobs # doctorow is more than just a sick mind looking to twist the perceptions of those whose realities remain uncorrupted - though that should be enough recommendation to read his work. *down and out in the magic kingdom* is black comedic, sci-fi prophecy on the dangers of surrendering our consensual hallucination to the regime. fun to read, but difficult to sleep afterwards. douglas rushkoff author of cyberia and media virus! # "wow! disney imagineering meets nanotechnology, the reputation economy, and ray kurzweil's transhuman future. as much fun as neal stephenson's snow crash, and as packed with mind bending ideas about social changes cascading from the frontiers of science." tim o'reilly publisher and founder, o'reilly and associates # doctorow has created a rich and exciting vision of the future, and then wrote a page-turner of a story in it. i couldn't put the book down. bruce schneier author, secrets and lies # cory doctorow is one of our best new writers: smart, daring, savvy, entertaining, ambitious, plugged-in, and as good a guide to the wired world of the twenty-first century that stretches out before us as you're going to find. gardner dozois editor, asimov's sf # cory doctorow's "down and out in the magic kingdom" tells a gripping, fast-paced story that hinges on thought-provoking extrapolation from today's technical realities. this is the sort of book that captures and defines the spirit of a turning point in human history when our tools remake ourselves and our world. mitch kapor founder, lotus, inc., co-founder electronic frontier foundation -- ======================= a note about this book: ======================= "down and out in the magic kingdom" is my first novel. it's an actual, no-foolin' words-on-paper book, published by the good people at tor books in new york city. you can buy this book in stores or online, by following links like this one: http://www.craphound.com/down/buy.php so, what's with this file? good question. i'm releasing the entire text of this book as a free, freely redistributable e-book. you can download it, put it on a p p net, put it on your site, email it to a friend, and, if you're addicted to dead trees, you can even print it. why am i doing this thing? well, it's a long story, but to shorten it up: first-time novelists have a tough row to hoe. our publishers don't have a lot of promotional budget to throw at unknown factors like us. mostly, we rise and fall based on word-of-mouth. i'm not bad at word-of- mouth. i have a blog, boing boing (http://boingboing.net), where i do a *lot* of word-of-mouthing. i compulsively tell friends and strangers about things that i like. and telling people about stuff i like is *way*, *way* easier if i can just send it to 'em. way easier. what's more, p p nets kick all kinds of ass. most of the books, music and movies ever released are not available for sale, anywhere in the world. in the brief time that p p nets have flourished, the ad-hoc masses of the internet have managed to put just about *everything* online. what's more, they've done it for cheaper than any other archiving/revival effort ever. i'm a stone infovore and this kinda internet mishegas gives me a serious frisson of futurosity. yeah, there are legal problems. yeah, it's hard to figure out how people are gonna make money doing it. yeah, there is a lot of social upheaval and a serious threat to innovation, freedom, business, and whatnot. it's your basic end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenario, and as a science fiction writer, end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenaria are my stock-in- trade. i'm especially grateful to my publisher, tor books (http://www.tor.com) and my editor, patrick nielsen hayden (http://nielsenhayden.com/electrolite) for being hep enough to let me try out this experiment. all that said, here's the deal: i'm releasing this book under a license developed by the creative commons project (http://creativecommons.org/). this is a project that lets people like me roll our own license agreements for the distribution of our creative work under terms similar to those employed by the free/open source software movement. it's a great project, and i'm proud to be a part of it. here's a summary of the license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/ . attribution. the licensor permits others to copy, distribute, display, and perform the work. in return, licensees must give the original author credit. no derivative works. the licensor permits others to copy, distribute, display and perform only unaltered copies of the work -- not derivative works based on it. noncommercial. the licensor permits others to copy, distribute, display, and perform the work. in return, licensees may not use the work for commercial purposes -- unless they get the licensor's permission. and here's the license itself: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/ . -legalcode the work (as defined below) is provided under the terms of this creative commons public license ("ccpl" or "license"). the work is protected by copyright and/or other applicable law. any use of the work other than as authorized under this license is prohibited. by exercising any rights to the work provided here, you accept and agree to be bound by the terms of this license. the licensor grants you the rights contained here in consideration of your acceptance of such terms and conditions. . definitions a. 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to see the rise of the bitchun society, to learn ten languages; to compose three symphonies; to realize my boyhood dream of taking up residence in disney world; to see the death of the workplace and of work. i never thought i'd live to see the day when keep a-movin' dan would decide to deadhead until the heat death of the universe. dan was in his second or third blush of youth when i first met him, sometime late-xxi. he was a rangy cowpoke, apparent or so, all rawhide squint-lines and sunburned neck, boots worn thin and infinitely comfortable. i was in the middle of my chem thesis, my fourth doctorate, and he was taking a break from saving the world, chilling on campus in toronto and core-dumping for some poor anthro major. we hooked up at the grad students' union -- the gsu, or gazoo for those who knew -- on a busy friday night, spring-ish. i was fighting a coral-slow battle for a stool at the scratched bar, inching my way closer every time the press of bodies shifted, and he had one of the few seats, surrounded by a litter of cigarette junk and empties, clearly encamped. some duration into my foray, he cocked his head at me and raised a sun- bleached eyebrow. "you get any closer, son, and we're going to have to get a pre-nup." i was apparent forty or so, and i thought about bridling at being called son, but i looked into his eyes and decided that he had enough realtime that he could call me son anytime he wanted. i backed off a little and apologized. he struck a cig and blew a pungent, strong plume over the bartender's head. "don't worry about it. i'm probably a little over accustomed to personal space." i couldn't remember the last time i'd heard anyone on-world talk about personal space. with the mortality rate at zero and the birth-rate at non-zero, the world was inexorably accreting a dense carpet of people, even with the migratory and deadhead drains on the population. "you've been jaunting?" i asked -- his eyes were too sharp for him to have missed an instant's experience to deadheading. he chuckled. "no sir, not me. i'm into the kind of macho shitheadery that you only come across on-world. jaunting's for play; i need work." the bar-glass tinkled a counterpoint. i took a moment to conjure a hud with his whuffie score on it. i had to resize the window -- he had too many zeroes to fit on my standard display. i tried to act cool, but he caught the upwards flick of my eyes and then their involuntary widening. he tried a little aw-shucksery, gave it up and let a prideful grin show. "i try not to pay it much mind. some people, they get overly grateful." he must've seen my eyes flick up again, to pull his whuffie history. "wait, don't go doing that -- i'll tell you about it, you really got to know. "damn, you know, it's so easy to get used to life without hyperlinks. you'd think you'd really miss 'em, but you don't." and it clicked for me. he was a missionary -- one of those fringe- dwellers who act as emissary from the bitchun society to the benighted corners of the world where, for whatever reasons, they want to die, starve, and choke on petrochem waste. it's amazing that these communities survive more than a generation; in the bitchun society proper, we usually outlive our detractors. the missionaries don't have such a high success rate -- you have to be awfully convincing to get through to a culture that's already successfully resisted nearly a century's worth of propaganda -- but when you convert a whole village, you accrue all the whuffie they have to give. more often, missionaries end up getting refreshed from a backup after they aren't heard from for a decade or so. i'd never met one in the flesh before. "how many successful missions have you had?" i asked. "figured it out, huh? i've just come off my fifth in twenty years -- counterrevolutionaries hidden out in the old cheyenne mountain norad site, still there a generation later." he sandpapered his whiskers with his fingertips. "their parents went to ground after their life's savings vanished, and they had no use for tech any more advanced than a rifle. plenty of those, though." he spun a fascinating yarn then, how he slowly gained the acceptance of the mountain-dwellers, and then their trust, and then betrayed it in subtle, beneficent ways: introducing free energy to their greenhouses, then a gengineered crop or two, then curing a couple deaths, slowly inching them toward the bitchun society, until they couldn't remember why they hadn't wanted to be a part of it from the start. now they were mostly off-world, exploring toy frontiers with unlimited energy and unlimited supplies and deadheading through the dull times en route. "i guess it'd be too much of a shock for them to stay on-world. they think of us as the enemy, you know -- they had all kinds of plans drawn up for when we invaded them and took them away; hollow suicide teeth, booby-traps, fall-back-and-rendezvous points for the survivors. they just can't get over hating us, even though we don't even know they exist. off-world, they can pretend that they're still living rough and hard." he rubbed his chin again, his hard calluses grating over his whiskers. "but for me, the real rough life is right here, on-world. the little enclaves, each one is like an alternate history of humanity -- what if we'd taken the free energy, but not deadheading? what if we'd taken deadheading, but only for the critically ill, not for people who didn't want to be bored on long bus-rides? or no hyperlinks, no adhocracy, no whuffie? each one is different and wonderful." i have a stupid habit of arguing for the sake of, and i found myself saying, "wonderful? oh sure, nothing finer than, oh, let's see, dying, starving, freezing, broiling, killing, cruelty and ignorance and pain and misery. i know i sure miss it." keep a-movin' dan snorted. "you think a junkie misses sobriety?" i knocked on the bar. "hello! there aren't any junkies anymore!" he struck another cig. "but you know what a junkie _is_, right? junkies don't miss sobriety, because they don't remember how sharp everything was, how the pain made the joy sweeter. we can't remember what it was like to work to earn our keep; to worry that there might not be _enough_, that we might get sick or get hit by a bus. we don't remember what it was like to take chances, and we sure as shit don't remember what it felt like to have them pay off." he had a point. here i was, only in my second or third adulthood, and already ready to toss it all in and do something, _anything_, else. he had a point -- but i wasn't about to admit it. "so you say. i say, i take a chance when i strike up a conversation in a bar, when i fall in love. . . and what about the deadheads? two people i know, they just went deadhead for ten thousand years! tell me that's not taking a chance!" truth be told, almost everyone i'd known in my eighty-some years were deadheading or jaunting or just _gone_. lonely days, then. "brother, that's committing half-assed suicide. the way we're going, they'll be lucky if someone doesn't just switch 'em off when it comes time to reanimate. in case you haven't noticed, it's getting a little crowded around here." i made pish-tosh sounds and wiped off my forehead with a bar-napkin -- the gazoo was beastly hot on summer nights. "uh-huh, just like the world was getting a little crowded a hundred years ago, before free energy. like it was getting too greenhousey, too nukey, too hot or too cold. we fixed it then, we'll fix it again when the time comes. i'm gonna be here in ten thousand years, you damn betcha, but i think i'll do it the long way around." he cocked his head again, and gave it some thought. if it had been any of the other grad students, i'd have assumed he was grepping for some bolstering factoids to support his next sally. but with him, i just knew he was thinking about it, the old-fashioned way. "i think that if i'm still here in ten thousand years, i'm going to be crazy as hell. ten thousand years, pal! ten thousand years ago, the state-of-the-art was a goat. you really think you're going to be anything recognizably human in a hundred centuries? me, i'm not interested in being a post-person. i'm going to wake up one day, and i'm going to say, 'well, i guess i've seen about enough,' and that'll be my last day." i had seen where he was going with this, and i had stopped paying attention while i readied my response. i probably should have paid more attention. "but why? why not just deadhead for a few centuries, see if there's anything that takes your fancy, and if not, back to sleep for a few more? why do anything so _final_?" he embarrassed me by making a show of thinking it over again, making me feel like i was just a half-pissed glib poltroon. "i suppose it's because nothing else is. i've always known that someday, i was going to stop moving, stop seeking, stop kicking, and have done with it. there'll come a day when i don't have anything left to do, except stop." # on campus, they called him keep-a-movin' dan, because of his cowboy vibe and because of his lifestyle, and he somehow grew to take over every conversation i had for the next six months. i pinged his whuffie a few times, and noticed that it was climbing steadily upward as he accumulated more esteem from the people he met. i'd pretty much pissed away most of my whuffie -- all the savings from the symphonies and the first three theses -- drinking myself stupid at the gazoo, hogging library terminals, pestering profs, until i'd expended all the respect anyone had ever afforded me. all except dan, who, for some reason, stood me to regular beers and meals and movies. i got to feeling like i was someone special -- not everyone had a chum as exotic as keep-a-movin' dan, the legendary missionary who visited the only places left that were closed to the bitchun society. i can't say for sure why he hung around with me. he mentioned once or twice that he'd liked my symphonies, and he'd read my ergonomics thesis on applying theme-park crowd-control techniques in urban settings, and liked what i had to say there. but i think it came down to us having a good time needling each other. i'd talk to him about the vast carpet of the future unrolling before us, of the certainty that we would encounter alien intelligences some day, of the unimaginable frontiers open to each of us. he'd tell me that deadheading was a strong indicator that one's personal reservoir of introspection and creativity was dry; and that without struggle, there is no real victory. this was a good fight, one we could have a thousand times without resolving. i'd get him to concede that whuffie recaptured the true essence of money: in the old days, if you were broke but respected, you wouldn't starve; contrariwise, if you were rich and hated, no sum could buy you security and peace. by measuring the thing that money really represented -- your personal capital with your friends and neighbors -- you more accurately gauged your success. and then he'd lead me down a subtle, carefully baited trail that led to my allowing that while, yes, we might someday encounter alien species with wild and fabulous ways, that right now, there was a slightly depressing homogeneity to the world. on a fine spring day, i defended my thesis to two embodied humans and one prof whose body was out for an overhaul, whose consciousness was present via speakerphone from the computer where it was resting. they all liked it. i collected my sheepskin and went out hunting for dan in the sweet, flower-stinking streets. he'd gone. the anthro major he'd been torturing with his war-stories said that they'd wrapped up that morning, and he'd headed to the walled city of tijuana, to take his shot with the descendants of a platoon of us marines who'd settled there and cut themselves off from the bitchun society. so i went to disney world. in deference to dan, i took the flight in realtime, in the minuscule cabin reserved for those of us who stubbornly refused to be frozen and stacked like cordwood for the two hour flight. i was the only one taking the trip in realtime, but a flight attendant dutifully served me a urine-sample-sized orange juice and a rubbery, pungent, cheese omelet. i stared out the windows at the infinite clouds while the autopilot banked around the turbulence, and wondered when i'd see dan next. ========= chapter ========= my girlfriend was percent of my age, and i was old-fashioned enough that it bugged me. her name was lil, and she was second-generation disney world, her parents being among the original ad-hocracy that took over the management of liberty square and tom sawyer island. she was, quite literally, raised in walt disney world and it showed. it showed. she was neat and efficient in her every little thing, from her shining red hair to her careful accounting of each gear and cog in the animatronics that were in her charge. her folks were in canopic jars in kissimmee, deadheading for a few centuries. on a muggy wednesday, we dangled our feet over the edge of the liberty belle's riverboat pier, watching the listless confederate flag over fort langhorn on tom sawyer island by moonlight. the magic kingdom was all closed up and every last guest had been chased out the gate underneath the main street train station, and we were able to breathe a heavy sigh of relief, shuck parts of our costumes, and relax together while the cicadas sang. i was more than a century old, but there was still a kind of magic in having my arm around the warm, fine shoulders of a girl by moonlight, hidden from the hustle of the cleaning teams by the turnstiles, breathing the warm, moist air. lil plumped her head against my shoulder and gave me a butterfly kiss under my jaw. "her name was mcgill," i sang, gently. "but she called herself lil," she sang, warm breath on my collarbones. "and everyone knew her as nancy," i sang. i'd been startled to know that she knew the beatles. they'd been old news in my youth, after all. but her parents had given her a thorough -- if eclectic -- education. "want to do a walk-through?" she asked. it was one of her favorite duties, exploring every inch of the rides in her care with the lights on, after the horde of tourists had gone. we both liked to see the underpinnings of the magic. maybe that was why i kept picking at the relationship. "i'm a little pooped. let's sit a while longer, if you don't mind." she heaved a dramatic sigh. "oh, all right. old man." she reached up and gently tweaked my nipple, and i gave a satisfying little jump. i think the age difference bothered her, too, though she teased me for letting it get to me. "i think i'll be able to manage a totter through the haunted mansion, if you just give me a moment to rest my bursitis." i felt her smile against my shirt. she loved the mansion; loved to turn on the ballroom ghosts and dance their waltz with them on the dusty floor, loved to try and stare down the marble busts in the library that followed your gaze as you passed. i liked it too, but i really liked just sitting there with her, watching the water and the trees. i was just getting ready to go when i heard a soft _ping_ inside my cochlea. "damn," i said. "i've got a call." "tell them you're busy," she said. "i will," i said, and answered the call subvocally. "julius here." "hi, julius. it's dan. you got a minute?" i knew a thousand dans, but i recognized the voice immediately, though it'd been ten years since we last got drunk at the gazoo together. i muted the subvocal and said, "lil, i've got to take this. do you mind?" "oh, _no_, not at all," she sarcased at me. she sat up and pulled out her crack pipe and lit up. "dan," i subvocalized, "long time no speak." "yeah, buddy, it sure has been," he said, and his voice cracked on a sob. i turned and gave lil such a look, she dropped her pipe. "how can i help?" she said, softly but swiftly. i waved her off and switched the phone to full-vocal mode. my voice sounded unnaturally loud in the cricket-punctuated calm. "where you at, dan?" i asked. "down here, in orlando. i'm stuck out on pleasure island." "all right," i said. "meet me at, uh, the adventurer's club, upstairs on the couch by the door. i'll be there in --" i shot a look at lil, who knew the castmember-only roads better than i. she flashed ten fingers at me. "ten minutes." "okay," he said. "sorry." he had his voice back under control. i switched off. "what's up?" lil asked. "i'm not sure. an old friend is in town. he sounds like he's got a problem." lil pointed a finger at me and made a trigger-squeezing gesture. "there," she said. "i've just dumped the best route to pleasure island to your public directory. keep me in the loop, okay?" i set off for the utilidoor entrance near the hall of presidents and booted down the stairs to the hum of the underground tunnel-system. i took the slidewalk to cast parking and zipped my little cart out to pleasure island. # i found dan sitting on the l-shaped couch underneath rows of faked-up trophy shots with humorous captions. downstairs, castmembers were working the animatronic masks and idols, chattering with the guests. dan was apparent fifty plus, a little paunchy and stubbled. he had raccoon-mask bags under his eyes and he slumped listlessly. as i approached, i pinged his whuffie and was startled to see that it had dropped to nearly zero. "jesus," i said, as i sat down next to him. "you look like hell, dan." he nodded. "appearances can be deceptive," he said. "but in this case, they're bang-on." "you want to talk about it?" i asked. "somewhere else, huh? i hear they ring in the new year every night at midnight; i think that'd be a little too much for me right now." i led him out to my cart and cruised back to the place i shared with lil, out in kissimmee. he smoked eight cigarettes on the twenty minute ride, hammering one after another into his mouth, filling my runabout with stinging clouds. i kept glancing at him in the rear-view. he had his eyes closed, and in repose he looked dead. i could hardly believe that this was my vibrant action-hero pal of yore. surreptitiously, i called lil's phone. "i'm bringing him home," i subvocalized. "he's in rough shape. not sure what it's all about." "i'll make up the couch," she said. "and get some coffee together. love you." "back atcha, kid," i said. as we approached the tacky little swaybacked ranch-house, he opened his eyes. "you're a pal, jules." i waved him off. "no, really. i tried to think of who i could call, and you were the only one. i've missed you, bud." "lil said she'd put some coffee on," i said. "you sound like you need it." lil was waiting on the sofa, a folded blanket and an extra pillow on the side table, a pot of coffee and some disneyland beijing mugs beside them. she stood and extended her hand. "i'm lil," she said. "dan," he said. "it's a pleasure." i knew she was pinging his whuffie and i caught her look of surprised disapproval. us oldsters who predate whuffie know that it's important; but to the kids, it's the _world_. someone without any is automatically suspect. i watched her recover quickly, smile, and surreptitiously wipe her hand on her jeans. "coffee?" she said. "oh, yeah," dan said, and slumped on the sofa. she poured him a cup and set it on a coaster on the coffee table. "i'll let you boys catch up, then," she said, and started for the bedroom. "no," dan said. "wait. if you don't mind. i think it'd help if i could talk to someone. . . younger, too." she set her face in the look of chirpy helpfulness that all the second- gen castmembers have at their instant disposal and settled into an armchair. she pulled out her pipe and lit a rock. i went through my crack period before she was born, just after they made it decaf, and i always felt old when i saw her and her friends light up. dan surprised me by holding out a hand to her and taking the pipe. he toked heavily, then passed it back. dan closed his eyes again, then ground his fists into them, sipped his coffee. it was clear he was trying to figure out where to start. "i believed that i was braver than i really am, is what it boils down to," he said. "who doesn't?" i said. "i really thought i could do it. i knew that someday i'd run out of things to do, things to see. i knew that i'd finish some day. you remember, we used to argue about it. i swore i'd be done, and that would be the end of it. and now i am. there isn't a single place left on-world that isn't part of the bitchun society. there isn't a single thing left that i want any part of." "so deadhead for a few centuries," i said. "put the decision off." "no!" he shouted, startling both of us. "i'm _done_. it's _over_." "so do it," lil said. "i _can't_," he sobbed, and buried his face in his hands. he cried like a baby, in great, snoring sobs that shook his whole body. lil went into the kitchen and got some tissue, and passed it to me. i sat alongside him and awkwardly patted his back. "jesus," he said, into his palms. "jesus." "dan?" i said, quietly. he sat up and took the tissue, wiped off his face and hands. "thanks," he said. "i've tried to make a go of it, really i have. i've spent the last eight years in istanbul, writing papers on my missions, about the communities. i did some followup studies, interviews. no one was interested. not even me. i smoked a lot of hash. it didn't help. so, one morning i woke up and went to the bazaar and said good bye to the friends i'd made there. then i went to a pharmacy and had the man make me up a lethal injection. he wished me good luck and i went back to my rooms. i sat there with the hypo all afternoon, then i decided to sleep on it, and i got up the next morning and did it all over again. i looked inside myself, and i saw that i didn't have the guts. i just didn't have the guts. i've stared down the barrels of a hundred guns, had a thousand knives pressed up against my throat, but i didn't have the guts to press that button." "you were too late," lil said. we both turned to look at her. "you were a decade too late. look at you. you're pathetic. if you killed yourself right now, you'd just be a washed-up loser who couldn't hack it. if you'd done it ten years earlier, you would've been going out on top -- a champion, retiring permanently." she set her mug down with a harder-than-necessary clunk. sometimes, lil and i are right on the same wavelength. sometimes, it's like she's on a different planet. all i could do was sit there, horrified, and she was happy to discuss the timing of my pal's suicide. but she was right. dan nodded heavily, and i saw that he knew it, too. "a day late and a dollar short," he sighed. "well, don't just sit there," she said. "you know what you've got to do." "what?" i said, involuntarily irritated by her tone. she looked at me like i was being deliberately stupid. "he's got to get back on top. cleaned up, dried out, into some productive work. get that whuffie up, too. _then_ he can kill himself with dignity." it was the stupidest thing i'd ever heard. dan, though, was cocking an eyebrow at her and thinking hard. "how old did you say you were?" he asked. "twenty-three," she said. "wish i'd had your smarts at twenty-three," he said, and heaved a sigh, straightening up. "can i stay here while i get the job done?" i looked askance at lil, who considered for a moment, then nodded. "sure, pal, sure," i said. i clapped him on the shoulder. "you look beat." "beat doesn't begin to cover it," he said. "good night, then," i said. ========= chapter ========= ad-hocracy works well, for the most part. lil's folks had taken over the running of liberty square with a group of other interested, compatible souls. they did a fine job, racked up gobs of whuffie, and anyone who came around and tried to take it over would be so reviled by the guests they wouldn't find a pot to piss in. or they'd have such a wicked, radical approach that they'd ouster lil's parents and their pals, and do a better job. it can break down, though. there were pretenders to the throne -- a group who'd worked with the original ad-hocracy and then had moved off to other pursuits -- some of them had gone to school, some of them had made movies, written books, or gone off to disneyland beijing to help start things up. a few had deadheaded for a couple decades. they came back to liberty square with a message: update the attractions. the liberty square ad-hocs were the staunchest conservatives in the magic kingdom, preserving the wheezing technology in the face of a park that changed almost daily. the newcomer/old-timers were on-side with the rest of the park, had their support, and looked like they might make a successful go of it. so it fell to lil to make sure that there were no bugs in the meager attractions of liberty square: the hall of the presidents, the liberty belle riverboat, and the glorious haunted mansion, arguably the coolest attraction to come from the fevered minds of the old-time disney imagineers. i caught her backstage at the hall of the presidents, tinkering with lincoln ii, the backup animatronic. lil tried to keep two of everything running at speed, just in case. she could swap out a dead bot for a backup in five minutes flat, which is all that crowd-control would permit. it had been two weeks since dan's arrival, and though i'd barely seen him in that time, his presence was vivid in our lives. our little ranch- house had a new smell, not unpleasant, of rejuve and hope and loss, something barely noticeable over the tropical flowers nodding in front of our porch. my phone rang three or four times a day, dan checking in from his rounds of the park, seeking out some way to accumulate personal capital. his excitement and dedication to the task were inspiring, pulling me into his over-the-top-and-damn-the-torpedoes mode of being. "you just missed dan," she said. she had her head in lincoln's chest, working with an autosolder and a magnifier. bent over, red hair tied back in a neat bun, sweat sheening her wiry freckled arms, smelling of girl-sweat and machine lubricant, she made me wish there were a mattress somewhere backstage. i settled for patting her behind affectionately, and she wriggled appreciatively. "he's looking better." his rejuve had taken him back to apparent , the way i remembered him. he was rawboned and leathery, but still had the defeated stoop that had startled me when i saw him at the adventurer's club. "what did he want?" "he's been hanging out with debra -- he wanted to make sure i knew what she's up to." debra was one of the old guard, a former comrade of lil's parents. she'd spent a decade in disneyland beijing, coding sim-rides. if she had her way, we'd tear down every marvelous rube goldberg in the park and replace them with pristine white sim boxes on giant, articulated servos. the problem was that she was _really good_ at coding sims. her great movie ride rehab at mgm was breathtaking -- the star wars sequence had already inspired a hundred fan-sites that fielded millions of hits. she'd leveraged her success into a deal with the adventureland ad-hocs to rehab the pirates of the caribbean, and their backstage areas were piled high with reference: treasure chests and cutlasses and bowsprits. it was terrifying to walk through; the pirates was the last ride walt personally supervised, and we'd thought it was sacrosanct. but debra had built a pirates sim in beijing, based on chend i sao, the xixth century chinese pirate queen, which was credited with rescuing the park from obscurity and ruin. the florida iteration would incorporate the best aspects of its chinese cousin -- the ai-driven sims that communicated with each other and with the guests, greeting them by name each time they rode and spinning age-appropriate tales of piracy on the high seas; the spectacular fly-through of the aquatic necropolis of rotting junks on the sea-floor; the thrilling pitch and yaw of the sim as it weathered a violent, breath-taking storm -- but with western themes: wafts of jamaican pepper sauce crackling through the air; liquid afro-caribbean accents; and swordfights conducted in the manner of the pirates who plied the blue waters of the new world. identical sims would stack like cordwood in the space currently occupied by the bulky ride-apparatus and dioramas, quintupling capacity and halving load-time. "so, what's she up to?" lil extracted herself from the rail-splitter's mechanical guts and made a comical moue of worry. "she's rehabbing the pirates -- and doing an incredible job. they're ahead of schedule, they've got good net-buzz, the focus groups are cumming themselves." the comedy went out of her expression, baring genuine worry. she turned away and closed up honest abe, then fired her finger at him. smoothly, he began to run through his spiel, silent but for the soft hum and whine of his servos. lil mimed twiddling a knob and his audiotrack kicked in low: "all the armies of europe, asia, and africa _combined_ could not, by force, make a track on the blue ridge, nor take a drink from the ohio. if destruction be our lot, then we ourselves must be its author -- and its finisher." she mimed turning down the gain and he fell silent again. "you said it, mr. president," she said, and fired her finger at him again, powering him down. she bent and adjusted his hand-sewn period topcoat, then carefully wound and set the turnip-watch in his vest- pocket. i put my arm around her shoulders. "you're doing all you can -- and it's good work," i said. i'd fallen into the easy castmember mode of speaking, voicing bland affirmations. hearing the words, i felt a flush of embarrassment. i pulled her into a long, hard hug and fumbled for better reassurance. finding no words that would do, i gave her a final squeeze and let her go. she looked at me sidelong and nodded her head. "it'll be fine, of course," she said. "i mean, the worst possible scenario is that debra will do her job very, very well, and make things even better than they are now. that's not so bad." this was a -degree reversal of her position on the subject the last time we'd talked, but you don't live more than a century without learning when to point out that sort of thing and when not to. my cochlea struck twelve noon and a hud appeared with my weekly backup reminder. lil was maneuvering ben franklin ii out of his niche. i waved good-bye at her back and walked away, to an uplink terminal. once i was close enough for secure broadband communications, i got ready to back up. my cochlea chimed again and i answered it. "yes," i subvocalized, impatiently. i hated getting distracted from a backup -- one of my enduring fears was that i'd forget the backup altogether and leave myself vulnerable for an entire week until the next reminder. i'd lost the knack of getting into habits in my adolescence, giving in completely to machine-generated reminders over conscious choice. "it's dan." i heard the sound of the park in full swing behind him -- children's laughter; bright, recorded animatronic spiels; the tromp of thousands of feet. "can you meet me at the tiki room? it's pretty important." "can it wait for fifteen?" i asked. "sure -- see you in fifteen." i rung off and initiated the backup. a status-bar zipped across a hud, dumping the parts of my memory that were purely digital; then it finished and started in on organic memory. my eyes rolled back in my head and my life flashed before my eyes. ========= chapter ========= the bitchun society has had much experience with restores from backup -- in the era of the cure for death, people live pretty recklessly. some people get refreshed a couple dozen times a year. not me. i hate the process. not so much that i won't participate in it. everyone who had serious philosophical conundra on that subject just, you know, _died_, a generation before. the bitchun society didn't need to convert its detractors, just outlive them. the first time i died, it was not long after my sixtieth birthday. i was scuba diving at playa coral, near veradero, cuba. of course, i don't remember the incident, but knowing my habits at that particular dive- site and having read the dive-logs of my scuba-buddies, i've reconstructed the events. i was eeling my way through the lobster-caves, with a borrowed bottle and mask. i'd also borrowed a wetsuit, but i wasn't wearing it -- the blood-temp salt water was balm, and i hated erecting barriers between it and my skin. the caves were made of coral and rocks, and they coiled and twisted like intestines. through each hole and around each corner, there was a hollow, rough sphere of surpassing, alien beauty. giant lobsters skittered over the walls and through the holes. schools of fish as bright as jewels darted and executed breath-taking precision maneuvers as i disturbed their busy days. i do some of my best thinking under water, and i'm often slipping off into dangerous reverie at depth. normally, my diving buddies ensure that i don't hurt myself, but this time i got away from them, spidering forward into a tiny hole. where i got stuck. my diving buddies were behind me, and i rapped on my bottle with the hilt of my knife until one of them put a hand on my shoulder. my buddies saw what was up, and attempted to pull me loose, but my bottle and buoyancy-control vest were firmly wedged. the others exchanged hand signals, silently debating the best way to get me loose. suddenly, i was thrashing and kicking, and then i disappeared into the cave, minus my vest and bottle. i'd apparently attempted to cut through my vest's straps and managed to sever the tube of my regulator. after inhaling a jolt of sea water, i'd thrashed free into the cave, rolling into a monstrous patch of spindly fire-coral. i'd inhaled another lungful of water and kicked madly for a tiny hole in the cave's ceiling, whence my buddies retrieved me shortly thereafter, drowned-blue except for the patchy red welts from the stinging coral. in those days, making a backup was a lot more complicated; the procedure took most of a day, and had to be undertaken at a special clinic. luckily, i'd had one made just before i left for cuba, a few weeks earlier. my next-most-recent backup was three years old, dating from the completion of my second symphony. they recovered me from backup and into a force-grown clone at toronto general. as far as i knew, i'd laid down in the backup clinic one moment and arisen the next. it took most of a year to get over the feeling that the whole world was putting a monstrous joke over on me, that the drowned corpse i'd seen was indeed my own. in my mind, the rebirth was figurative as well as literal -- the missing time was enough that i found myself hard-pressed to socialize with my pre-death friends. i told dan the story during our first friendship, and he immediately pounced on the fact that i'd gone to disney world to spend a week sorting out my feelings, reinventing myself, moving to space, marrying a crazy lady. he found it very curious that i always rebooted myself at disney world. when i told him that i was going to live there someday, he asked me if that would mean that i was done reinventing myself. sometimes, as i ran my fingers through lil's sweet red curls, i thought of that remark and sighed great gusts of contentment and marveled that my friend dan had been so prescient. the next time i died, they'd improved the technology somewhat. i'd had a massive stroke in my seventy-third year, collapsing on the ice in the middle of a house-league hockey game. by the time they cut my helmet away, the hematomae had crushed my brain into a pulpy, blood-sotted mess. i'd been lax in backing up, and i lost most of a year. but they woke me gently, with a computer-generated precis of the events of the missing interval, and a counselor contacted me daily for a year until i felt at home again in my skin. again, my life rebooted, and i found myself in disney world, methodically flensing away the relationships i'd built and starting afresh in boston, living on the ocean floor and working the heavy-metal harvesters, a project that led, eventually, to my chem thesis at u of t. after i was shot dead at the tiki room, i had the opportunity to appreciate the great leaps that restores had made in the intervening ten years. i woke in my own bed, instantly aware of the events that led up to my third death as seen from various third-party povs: security footage from the adventureland cameras, synthesized memories extracted from dan's own backup, and a computer-generated fly-through of the scene. i woke feeling preternaturally calm and cheerful, and knowing that i felt that way because of certain temporary neurotransmitter presets that had been put in place when i was restored. dan and lil sat at my bedside. lil's tired, smiling face was limned with hairs that had snuck loose of her ponytail. she took my hand and kissed the smooth knuckles. dan smiled beneficently at me and i was seized with a warm, comforting feeling of being surrounded by people who really loved me. i dug for words appropriate to the scene, decided to wing it, opened my mouth and said, to my surprise, "i have to pee." dan and lil smiled at each other. i lurched out of the bed, naked, and thumped to the bathroom. my muscles were wonderfully limber, with a brand-new spring to them. after i flushed i leaned over and took hold of my ankles, then pulled my head right to the floor, feeling the marvelous flexibility of my back and legs and buttocks. a scar on my knee was missing, as were the many lines that had crisscrossed my fingers. when i looked in the mirror, i saw that my nose and earlobes were smaller and perkier. the familiar crow's-feet and the frown-lines between my eyebrows were gone. i had a day's beard all over -- head, face, pubis, arms, legs. i ran my hands over my body and chuckled at the ticklish newness of it all. i was briefly tempted to depilate all over, just to keep this feeling of newness forever, but the neurotransmitter presets were evaporating and a sense of urgency over my murder was creeping up on me. i tied a towel around my waist and made my way back to the bedroom. the smells of tile-cleaner and flowers and rejuve were bright in my nose, effervescent as camphor. dan and lil stood when i came into the room and helped me to the bed. "well, this _sucks_," i said. i'd gone straight from the uplink through the utilidors -- three quick cuts of security cam footage, one at the uplink, one in the corridor, and one at the exit in the underpass between liberty square and adventureland. i seemed bemused and a little sad as i emerged from the door, and began to weave my way through the crowd, using a kind of sinuous, darting shuffle that i'd developed when i was doing field-work on my crowd-control thesis. i cut rapidly through the lunchtime crowd toward the long roof of the tiki room, thatched with strips of shimmering aluminum cut and painted to look like long grass. fuzzy shots now, from dan's pov, of me moving closer to him, passing close to a group of teenaged girls with extra elbows and knees, wearing environmentally controlled cloaks and cowls covered with epcot center logomarks. one of them is wearing a pith helmet, from the jungle traders shop outside of the jungle cruise. dan's gaze flicks away, to the tiki room's entrance, where there is a short queue of older men, then back, just as the girl with the pith helmet draws a stylish little organic pistol, like a penis with a tail that coils around her arm. casually, grinning, she raises her arm and gestures with the pistol, exactly like lil does with her finger when she's uploading, and the pistol lunges forward. dan's gaze flicks back to me. i'm pitching over, my lungs bursting out of my chest and spreading before me like wings, spinal gristle and viscera showering the guests before me. a piece of my nametag, now shrapnel, strikes dan in the forehead, causing him to blink. when he looks again, the group of girls is still there, but the girl with the pistol is long gone. the fly-through is far less confused. everyone except me, dan and the girl is grayed-out. we're limned in highlighter yellow, moving in slow- motion. i emerge from the underpass and the girl moves from the swiss family robinson treehouse to the group of her friends. dan starts to move towards me. the girl raises, arms and fires her pistol. the self- guiding smart-slug, keyed to my body chemistry, flies low, near ground level, weaving between the feet of the crowd, moving just below the speed of sound. when it reaches me, it screams upwards and into my spine, detonating once it's entered my chest cavity. the girl has already made a lot of ground, back toward the adventureland/main street, usa gateway. the fly-through speeds up, following her as she merges with the crowds on the street, ducking and weaving between them, moving toward the breezeway at sleeping beauty castle. she vanishes, then reappears, forty minutes later, in tomorrowland, near the new space mountain complex, then disappears again. "has anyone id'd the girl?" i asked, once i'd finished reliving the events. the anger was starting to boil within me now. my new fists clenched for the first time, soft palms and uncallused fingertips. dan shook his head. "none of the girls she was with had ever seen her before. the face was one of the seven sisters -- hope." the seven sisters were a trendy collection of designer faces. every second teenage girl wore one of them. "how about jungle traders?" i asked. "did they have a record of the pith helmet purchase?" lil frowned. "we ran the jungle traders purchases back for six months: only three matched the girl's apparent age; all three have alibis. chances are she stole it." "why?" i asked, finally. in my mind's eye, i saw my lungs bursting out of my chest, like wings, like jellyfish, vertebrae spraying like shrapnel. i saw the girl's smile, an almost sexual smirk as she pulled the trigger on me. "it wasn't random," lil said. "the slug was definitely keyed to you -- that means that she'd gotten close to you at some point." right -- which meant that she'd been to disney world in the last ten years. that narrowed it down, all right. "what happened to her after tomorrowland?" i said. "we don't know," lil said. "something wrong with the cameras. we lost her and she never reappeared." she sounded hot and angry -- she took equipment failures in the magic kingdom personally. "who'd want to do this?" i asked, hating the self-pity in my voice. it was the first time i'd been murdered, but i didn't need to be a drama- queen about it. dan's eyes got a far-away look. "sometimes, people do things for reasons that seem perfectly reasonable to them, that the rest of the world couldn't hope to understand. i've seen a few assassinations, and they never made sense afterwards." he stroked his chin. "sometimes, it's better to look for temperament, rather than motivation: who _could_ do something like this?" right. all we needed to do was investigate all the psychopaths who'd visited the magic kingdom in ten years. that narrowed it down considerably. i pulled up a hud and checked the time. it had been four days since my murder. i had a shift coming up, working the turnstiles at the haunted mansion. i liked to pull a couple of those shifts a month, just to keep myself grounded; it helped to take a reality check while i was churning away in the rarified climate of my crowd-control simulations. i stood and went to my closet, started to dress. "_what_ are you doing?" lil asked, alarmed. "i've got a shift. i'm running late." "you're in no shape to work," lil said, tugging at my elbow. i jerked free of her. "i'm fine -- good as new." i barked a humorless laugh. "i'm not going to let those bastards disrupt my life any more." _those bastards_? i thought -- when had i decided that there was more than one? but i knew it was true. there was no way that this was all planned by one person: it had been executed too precisely, too thoroughly. dan moved to block the bedroom door. "wait a second," he said. "you need rest." i fixed him with a doleful glare. "i'll decide that," i said. he stepped aside. "i'll tag along, then," he said. "just in case." i pinged my whuffie. i was up a couple percentiles -- sympathy whuffie -- but it was falling: dan and lil were radiating disapproval. screw 'em. i got into my runabout and dan scrambled for the passenger door as i put it in gear and sped out. "are you sure you're all right?" dan said as i nearly rolled the runabout taking the corner at the end of our cul-de-sac. "why wouldn't i be?" i said. "i'm as good as new." "funny choice of words," he said. "some would say that you _were_ new." i groaned. "not this argument again," i said. "i feel like me and no one else is making that claim. who cares if i've been restored from a backup?" "all i'm saying is, there's a difference between _you_ and an exact copy of you, isn't there?" i knew what he was doing, distracting me with one of our old fights, but i couldn't resist the bait, and as i marshalled my arguments, it actually helped calm me down some. dan was that kind of friend, a person who knew you better than you knew yourself. "so you're saying that if you were obliterated and then recreated, atom-for-atom, that you wouldn't be you anymore?" "for the sake of argument, sure. being destroyed and recreated is different from not being destroyed at all, right?" "brush up on your quantum mechanics, pal. you're being destroyed and recreated a trillion times a second." "on a very, very small level --" "what difference does that make?" "fine, i'll concede that. but you're not really an atom-for-atom copy. you're a clone, with a copied _brain_ -- that's not the same as quantum destruction." "very nice thing to say to someone who's just been murdered, pal. you got a problem with clones?" and we were off and running. # the mansion's cast were sickeningly cheerful and solicitous. each of them made a point of coming around and touching the stiff, starched shoulder of my butler's costume, letting me know that if there was anything they could do for me. . . i gave them all a fixed smile and tried to concentrate on the guests, how they waited, when they arrived, how they dispersed through the exit gate. dan hovered nearby, occasionally taking the eight minute, twenty-two second ride-through, running interference for me with the other castmembers. he was nearby when my break came up. i changed into civvies and we walked over the cobbled streets, past the hall of the presidents, noting as i rounded the corner that there was something different about the queue-area. dan groaned. "they did it already," he said. i looked closer. the turnstiles were blocked by a sandwich board: mickey in a ben franklin wig and bifocals, holding a trowel. "excuse our mess!" the sign declared. "we're renovating to serve you better!" i spotted one of debra's cronies standing behind the sign, a self- satisfied smile on his face. he'd started off life as a squat, northern chinese, but had had his bones lengthened and his cheekbones raised so that he looked almost elfin. i took one look at his smile and understood -- debra had established a toehold in liberty square. "they filed plans for the new hall with the steering committee an hour after you got shot. the committee loved the plans; so did the net. they're promising not to touch the mansion." "you didn't mention this," i said, hotly. "we thought you'd jump to conclusions. the timing was bad, but there's no indication that they arranged for the shooter. everyone's got an alibi; furthermore, they've all offered to submit their backups for proof." "right," i said. "right. so they just _happened_ to have plans for a new hall standing by. and they just _happened_ to file them after i got shot, when all our ad-hocs were busy worrying about me. it's all a big coincidence." dan shook his head. "we're not stupid, jules. no one thinks that it's a coincidence. debra's the sort of person who keeps a lot of plans standing by, just in case. but that just makes her a well-prepared opportunist, not a murderer." i felt nauseated and exhausted. i was enough of a castmember that i sought out a utilidor before i collapsed against a wall, head down. defeat seeped through me, saturating me. dan crouched down beside me. i looked over at him. he was grinning wryly. "posit," he said, "for the moment, that debra really did do this thing, set you up so that she could take over." i smiled, in spite of myself. this was his explaining act, the thing he would do whenever i fell into one of his rhetorical tricks back in the old days. "all right, i've posited it." "why would she: one, take out you instead of lil or one of the real old- timers; two, go after the hall of presidents instead of tom sawyer island or even the mansion; and three, follow it up with such a blatant, suspicious move?" "all right," i said, warming to the challenge. "one: i'm important enough to be disruptive but not so important as to rate a full investigation. two: tom sawyer island is too visible, you can't rehab it without people seeing the dust from shore. three, debra's coming off of a decade in beijing, where subtlety isn't real important." "sure," dan said, "sure." then he launched an answering salvo, and while i was thinking up my answer, he helped me to my feet and walked me out to my runabout, arguing all the way, so that by the time i noticed we weren't at the park anymore, i was home and in bed. # with all the hall's animatronics mothballed for the duration, lil had more time on her hands than she knew what to do with. she hung around the little bungalow, the two of us in the living room, staring blankly at the windows, breathing shallowly in the claustrophobic, superheated florida air. i had my working notes on queue management for the mansion, and i pecked at them aimlessly. sometimes, lil mirrored my hud so she could watch me work, and made suggestions based on her long experience. it was a delicate process, this business of increasing throughput without harming the guest experience. but for every second i could shave off of the queue-to-exit time, i could put another sixty guests through and lop thirty seconds off total wait-time. and the more guests who got to experience the mansion, the more of a whuffie-hit debra's people would suffer if they made a move on it. so i dutifully pecked at my notes, and found three seconds i could shave off the graveyard sequence by swiveling the doom buggy carriages stage-left as they descended from the attic window: by expanding their fields-of-vision, i could expose the guests to all the scenes more quickly. i ran the change in fly-through, then implemented it after closing and invited the other liberty square ad-hocs to come and test it out. it was another muggy winter evening, prematurely dark. the ad-hocs had enough friends and family with them that we were able to simulate an off-peak queue-time, and we all stood and sweated in the preshow area, waiting for the doors to swing open, listening to the wolf-cries and assorted boo-spookery from the hidden speakers. the doors swung open, revealing lil in a rotting maid's uniform, her eyes lined with black, her skin powdered to a deathly pallor. she gave us a cold, considering glare, then intoned, "master gracey requests more bodies." as we crowded into the cool, musty gloom of the parlor, lil contrived to give my ass an affectionate squeeze. i turned to return the favor, and saw debra's elfin comrade looming over lil's shoulder. my smile died on my lips. the man locked eyes with me for a moment, and i saw something in there -- some admixture of cruelty and worry that i didn't know what to make of. he looked away immediately. i'd known that debra would have spies in the crowd, of course, but with elf-boy watching, i resolved to make this the best show i knew how. it's subtle, this business of making the show better from within. lil had already slid aside the paneled wall that led to stretch-room number two, the most recently serviced one. once the crowd had moved inside, i tried to lead their eyes by adjusting my body language to poses of subtle attention directed at the new spotlights. when the newly remastered soundtrack came from behind the sconce-bearing gargoyles at the corners of the octagonal room, i leaned my body slightly in the direction of the moving stereo-image. and an instant before the lights snapped out, i ostentatiously cast my eyes up into the scrim ceiling, noting that others had taken my cue, so they were watching when the uv-lit corpse dropped from the pitch-dark ceiling, jerking against the noose at its neck. the crowd filed into the second queue area, where they boarded the doom buggies. there was a low buzz of marveling conversation as we made our way onto the moving sidewalk. i boarded my doom buggy and an instant later, someone slid in beside me. it was the elf. he made a point of not making eye contact with me, but i sensed his sidelong glances at me as we rode through past the floating chandelier and into the corridor where the portraits' eyes watched us. two years before, i'd accelerated this sequence and added some random swivel to the doom buggies, shaving seconds off the total, taking the hourly throughput cap from to . it was the proof-of-concept that led to all the other seconds i'd shaved away since. the violent pitching of the buggy brought me and the elf into inadvertent contact with one another, and when i brushed his hand as i reached for the safety bar, i felt that it was cold and sweaty. he was nervous! _he_ was nervous. what did _he_ have to be nervous about? i was the one who'd been murdered -- maybe he was nervous because he was supposed to finish the job. i cast my own sidelong looks at him, trying to see suspicious bulges in his tight clothes, but the doom buggy's pebbled black plastic interior was too dim. dan was in the buggy behind us, with one of the mansion's regular castmembers. i rang his cochlea and subvocalized: "get ready to jump out on my signal." anyone leaving their buggy would interrupt an infrared beam and stop the ride system. i knew i could rely on dan to trust me without a lot of explaining, which meant that i could keep a close watch on debra's crony. we went past the hallway of mirrors and into the hallway of doors, where monstrous hands peeked out around the sills, straining against the hinges, recorded groans mixed in with pounding. i thought about it -- if i wanted to kill someone on the mansion, what would be the best place to do it? the attic staircase-- the next sequence -- seemed like a good bet. a cold clarity washed over me. the elf would kill me in the gloom of the staircase, dump me out over the edge at the blind turn toward the graveyard, and that would be it. would he be able to do it if i were staring straight at him? he seemed terribly nervous as it was. i swiveled in my seat and looked him straight in the eye. he quirked half a smile at me and nodded a greeting. i kept on staring at him, my hands balled into fists, ready for anything. we rode down the staircase, facing up, listening to the clamour of voices from the cemetery and the squawk of the red-eyed raven. i caught sight of the quaking groundkeeper animatronic from the corner of my eye and startled. i let out a subvocal squeal and was pitched forward as the ride system shuddered to a stop. "jules?" came dan's voice in my cochlea. "you all right?" he'd heard my involuntary note of surprise and had leapt clear of the buggy, stopping the ride. the elf was looking at me with a mixture of surprise and pity. "it's all right, it's all right. false alarm." i paged lil and subvocalized to her, telling her to start up the ride asap, it was all right. i rode the rest of the way with my hands on the safety bar, my eyes fixed ahead of me, steadfastly ignoring the elf. i checked the timer i'd been running. the demo was a debacle -- instead of shaving off three seconds, i'd added thirty. i wanted to cry. # i debarked the buggy and stalked quickly out of the exit queue, leaning heavily against the fence, staring blindly at the pet cemetery. my head swam: i was out of control, jumping at shadows. i was spooked. and i had no reason to be. sure, i'd been murdered, but what had it cost me? a few days of "unconsciousness" while they decanted my backup into my new body, a merciful gap in memory from my departure at the backup terminal up until my death. i wasn't one of those nuts who took death _seriously_. it wasn't like they'd done something _permanent_. in the meantime, i _had_ done something permanent: i'd dug lil's grave a little deeper, endangered the ad-hocracy and, worst of all, the mansion. i'd acted like an idiot. i tasted my dinner, a wolfed-down hamburger, and swallowed hard, forcing down the knob of nausea. i sensed someone at my elbow, and thinking it was lil, come to ask me what had gone on, i turned with a sheepish grin and found myself facing the elf. he stuck his hand out and spoke in the flat no-accent of someone running a language module. "hi there. we haven't been introduced, but i wanted to tell you how much i enjoy your work. i'm tim fung." i pumped his hand, which was still cold and particularly clammy in the close heat of the florida night. "julius," i said, startled at how much like a bark it sounded. _careful_, i thought, _no need to escalate the hostilities._ "it's kind of you to say that. i like what you-all have done with the pirates." he smiled: a genuine, embarrassed smile, as though he'd just been given high praise from one of his heroes. "really? i think it's pretty good -- the second time around you get a lot of chances to refine things, really clarify the vision. beijing -- well, it was exciting, but it was rushed, you know? i mean, we were really struggling. every day, there was another pack of squatters who wanted to tear the park down. debra used to send me out to give the children piggyback rides, just to keep our whuffie up while she was evicting the squatters. it was good to have the opportunity to refine the designs, revisit them without the floor show." i knew about this, of course -- beijing had been a real struggle for the ad-hocs who built it. lots of them had been killed, many times over. debra herself had been killed every day for a week and restored to a series of prepared clones, beta-testing one of the ride systems. it was faster than revising the cad simulations. debra had a reputation for pursuing expedience. "i'm starting to find out how it feels to work under pressure," i said, and nodded significantly at the mansion. i was gratified to see him look embarrassed, then horrified. "we would _never_ touch the mansion," he said. "it's _perfect_!" dan and lil sauntered up as i was preparing a riposte. they both looked concerned -- now that i thought of it, they'd both seemed incredibly concerned about me since the day i was revived. dan's gait was odd, stilted, like he was leaning on lil for support. they looked like a couple. an irrational sear of jealousy jetted through me. i was an emotional wreck. still, i took lil's big, scarred hand in mine as soon as she was in reach, then cuddled her to me protectively. she had changed out of her maid's uniform into civvies: smart coveralls whose micropore fabric breathed in time with her own respiration. "lil, dan, i want you to meet tim fung. he was just telling me war stories from the pirates project in beijing." lil waved and dan gravely shook his hand. "that was some hard work," dan said. it occurred to me to turn on some whuffie monitors. it was normally an instantaneous reaction to meeting someone, but i was still disoriented. i pinged the elf. he had a lot of left-handed whuffie; respect garnered from people who shared very few of my opinions. i expected that. what i didn't expect was that his weighted whuffie score, the one that lent extra credence to the rankings of people i respected, was also high -- higher than my own. i regretted my nonlinear behavior even more. respect from the elf -- _tim_, i had to remember to call him tim -- would carry a lot of weight in every camp that mattered. dan's score was incrementing upwards, but he still had a rotten profile. he had accrued a good deal of left-handed whuffie, and i curiously backtraced it to the occasion of my murder, when debra's people had accorded him a generous dollop of props for the levelheaded way he had scraped up my corpse and moved it offstage, minimizing the disturbance in front of their wondrous pirates. i was fugueing, wandering off on the kind of mediated reverie that got me killed on the reef at playa coral, and i came out of it with a start, realizing that the other three were politely ignoring my blown buffer. i could have run backwards through my short-term memory to get the gist of the conversation, but that would have lengthened the pause. screw it. "so, how're things going over at the hall of the presidents?" i asked tim. lil shot me a cautioning look. she'd ceded the hall to debra's ad-hocs, that being the only way to avoid the appearance of childish disattention to the almighty whuffie. now she had to keep up the fiction of good- natured cooperation -- that meant not shoulder-surfing debra, looking for excuses to pounce on her work. tim gave us the same half-grin he'd greeted me with. on his smooth, pointed features, it looked almost irredeemably cute. "we're doing good stuff, i think. debra's had her eye on the hall for years, back in the old days, before she went to china. we're replacing the whole thing with broadband uplinks of gestalts from each of the presidents' lives: newspaper headlines, speeches, distilled biographies, personal papers. it'll be like having each president _inside_ you, core-dumped in a few seconds. debra said we're going to _flash-bake_ the presidents on your mind!" his eyes glittered in the twilight. having only recently experienced my own cerebral flash-baking, tim's description struck a chord in me. my personality seemed to be rattling around a little in my mind, as though it had been improperly fitted. it made the idea of having the gestalt of -some presidents squashed in along with it perversely appealing. "wow," i said. "that sounds wild. what do you have in mind for physical plant?" the hall as it stood had a quiet, patriotic dignity cribbed from a hundred official buildings of the dead usa. messing with it would be like redesigning the stars-and-bars. "that's not really my area," tim said. "i'm a programmer. but i could have one of the designers squirt some plans at you, if you want." "that would be fine," lil said, taking my elbow. "i think we should be heading home, now, though." she began to tug me away. dan took my other elbow. behind her, the liberty belle glowed like a ghostly wedding cake in the twilight. "that's too bad," tim said. "my ad-hoc is pulling an all-nighter on the new hall. i'm sure they'd love to have you drop by." the idea seized hold of me. i would go into the camp of the enemy, sit by their fire, learn their secrets. "that would be _great_!" i said, too loudly. my head was buzzing slightly. lil's hands fell away. "but we've got an early morning tomorrow," lil said. "you've got a shift at eight, and i'm running into town for groceries." she was lying, but she was telling me that this wasn't her idea of a smart move. but my faith was unshakeable. "eight a.m. shift? no problem -- i'll be right here when it starts. i'll just grab a shower at the contemporary in the morning and catch the monorail back in time to change. all right?" dan tried. "but jules, we were going to grab some dinner at cinderella's royal table, remember? i made reservations." "aw, we can eat any time," i said. "this is a hell of an opportunity." "it sure is," dan said, giving up. "mind if i come along?" he and lil traded meaningful looks that i interpreted to mean, _if he's going to be a nut, one of us really should stay with him_. i was past caring -- i was going to beard the lion in his den! tim was apparently oblivious to all of this. "then it's settled! let's go." # on the walk to the hall, dan kept ringing my cochlea and i kept sending him straight to voicemail. all the while, i kept up a patter of small- talk with him and tim. i was determined to make up for my debacle in the mansion with tim, win him over. debra's people were sitting around in the armchairs onstage, the animatronic presidents stacked in neat piles in the wings. debra was sprawled in lincoln's armchair, her head cocked lazily, her legs extended before her. the hall's normal smells of ozone and cleanliness were overridden by sweat and machine-oil, the stink of an ad-hoc pulling an all-nighter. the hall took fifteen years to research and execute, and a couple of days to tear down. she was au-naturel, still wearing the face she'd been born with, albeit one that had been regenerated dozens of times after her deaths. it was patrician, waxy, long, with a nose that was made for staring down. she was at least as old as i was, though she was only apparent . i got the sense that she picked this age because it was one that afforded boundless reserves of energy. she didn't deign to rise as i approached, but she did nod languorously at me. the other ad-hocs had been split into little clusters, hunched over terminals. they all had the raccoon-eyed, sleep-deprived look of fanatics, even debra, who managed to look lazy and excited simultaneously. _did you have me killed_? i wondered, staring at debra. after all, she'd been killed dozens, if not hundreds of times. it might not be such a big deal for her. "hi there," i said, brightly. "tim offered to show us around! you know dan, right?" debra nodded at him. "oh, sure. dan and i are pals, right?" dan's poker face didn't twitch a muscle. "hello, debra," he said. he'd been hanging out with them since lil had briefed him on the peril to the mansion, trying to gather some intelligence for us to use. they knew what he was up to, of course, but dan was a fairly charming guy and he worked like a mule, so they tolerated him. but it seemed like he'd violated a boundary by accompanying me, as though the polite fiction that he was more a part of debra's ad-hoc than lil's was shattered by my presence. tim said, "can i show them the demo, debra?" debra quirked an eyebrow, then said, "sure, why not. you'll like this, guys." tim hustled us backstage, where lil and i used to sweat over the animatronics and cop surreptitious feels. everything had been torn loose, packed up, stacked. they hadn't wasted a moment -- they'd spent a week tearing down a show that had run for more than a century. the scrim that the projected portions of the show normally screened on was ground into the floor, spotted with grime, footprints and oil. tim showed me to a half-assembled backup terminal. its housing was off, and any number of wireless keyboards, pointers and gloves lay strewn about it. it had the look of a prototype. "this is it -- our uplink. so far, we've got a demo app running on it: lincoln's old speech, along with the civil-war montage. just switch on guest access and i'll core-dump it to you. it's wild." i pulled up my hud and switched on guest access. tim pointed a finger at the terminal and my brain was suffused with the essence of lincoln: every nuance of his speech, the painstakingly researched movement tics, his warts and beard and topcoat. it almost felt like i _was_ lincoln, for a moment, and then it passed. but i could still taste the lingering coppery flavor of cannon-fire and chewing tobacco. i staggered backwards. my head swam with flash-baked sense-impressions, rich and detailed. i knew on the spot that debra's hall of the presidents was going to be a hit. dan took a shot off the uplink, too. tim and i watched him as his expression shifted from skepticism to delight. tim looked expectantly at me. "that's really fine," i said. "really, really fine. moving." tim blushed. "thanks! i did the gestalt programming -- it's my specialty." debra spoke up from behind him -- she'd sauntered over while dan was getting his jolt. "i got the idea in beijing, when i was dying a lot. there's something wonderful about having memories implanted, like you're really working your brain. i love the synthetic clarity of it all." tim sniffed. "not synthetic at all," he said, turning to me. "it's nice and soft, right?" i sensed deep political shoals and was composing my reply when debra said: "tim keeps trying to make it all more impressionistic, less computer-y. he's wrong, of course. we don't want to simulate the experience of watching the show -- we want to _transcend it_." tim nodded reluctantly. "sure, transcend it. but the way we do that is by making the experience _human_, a mile in the presidents' shoes. empathy-driven. what's the point of flash-baking a bunch of dry facts on someone's brain?" ========= chapter ========= one night in the hall of presidents convinced me of three things: . that debra's people had had me killed, and screw their alibis, . that they would kill me again, when the time came for them to make a play for the haunted mansion, . that our only hope for saving the mansion was a preemptive strike against them: we had to hit them hard, where it hurt. dan and i had been treated to eight hours of insectile precision in the hall of presidents, debra's people working with effortless cooperation born of the adversity they'd faced in beijing. debra moved from team to team, making suggestions with body language as much as with words, leaving bursts of inspired activity in her wake. it was that precision that convinced me of point one. any ad-hoc this tight could pull off anything if it advanced their agenda. ad-hoc? hell, call them what they were: an army. point two came to me when i sampled the lincoln build that tim finished at about three in the morning, after intensive consultation with debra. the mark of a great ride is that it gets better the second time around, as the detail and flourishes start to impinge on your consciousness. the mansion was full of little gimcracks and sly nods that snuck into your experience on each successive ride. tim shuffled his feet nervously, bursting with barely restrained pride as i switched on public access. he dumped the app to my public directory, and, gingerly, i executed it. god! god and lincoln and cannon-fire and oratory and ploughs and mules and greatcoats! it rolled over me, it punched through me, it crashed against the inside of my skull and rebounded. the first pass through, there had been a sense of order, of narrative, but this, this was gestalt, the whole thing in one undifferentiated ball, filling me and spilling over. it was panicky for a moment, as the essence of lincolness seemed to threaten my own personality, and, just as it was about to overwhelm me, it receded, leaving behind a rush of endorphin and adrenaline that made me want to jump. "tim," i gasped. "tim! that was. . ." words failed me. i wanted to hug him. what we could do for the mansion with this! what elegance! directly imprinting the experience, without recourse to the stupid, blind eyes; the thick, deaf ears. tim beamed and basked, and debra nodded solemnly from her throne. "you liked it?" tim said. i nodded, and staggered back to the theatre seat where dan slept, head thrown back, snores softly rattling in his throat. incrementally, reason trickled back into my mind, and with it came ire. how dare they? the wonderful compromises of technology and expense that had given us the disney rides -- rides that had entertained the world for two centuries and more -- could never compete head to head with what they were working on. my hands knotted into fists in my lap. why the fuck couldn't they do this somewhere else? why did they have to destroy everything i loved to realize this? they could build this tech anywhere -- they could distribute it online and people could access it from their living rooms! but that would never do. doing it here was better for the old whuffie -- they'd make over disney world and hold it, a single ad-hoc where three hundred had flourished before, smoothly operating a park twice the size of manhattan. i stood and stalked out of the theater, out into liberty square and the park. it had cooled down without drying out, and there was a damp chill that crawled up my back and made my breath stick in my throat. i turned to contemplate the hall of presidents, staid and solid as it had been since my boyhood and before, a monument to the imagineers who anticipated the bitchun society, inspired it. i called dan, still snoring back in the theater, and woke him. he grunted unintelligibly in my cochlea. "they did it -- they killed me." i knew they had, and i was glad. it made what i had to do next easier. "oh, jesus. they didn't kill you -- they offered their backups, remember? they couldn't have done it." "bullshit!" i shouted into the empty night. "bullshit! they did it, and they fucked with their backups somehow. they must have. it's all too neat and tidy. how else could they have gotten so far with the hall so fast? they knew it was coming, they planned a disruption, and they moved in. tell me that you think they just had these plans lying around and moved on them when they could." dan groaned, and i heard his joints popping. he must have been stretching. the park breathed around me, the sounds of maintenance crews scurrying in the night. "i do believe that. clearly, you don't. it's not the first time we've disagreed. so now what?" "now we save the mansion," i said. "now we fight back." "oh, shit," dan said. i have to admit, there was a part of me that concurred. # my opportunity came later that week. debra's ad-hocs were showboating, announcing a special preview of the new hall to the other ad-hocs that worked in the park. it was classic chutzpah, letting the key influencers in the park in long before the bugs were hammered out. a smooth run would garner the kind of impressed reaction that guaranteed continued support while they finished up; a failed demo could doom them. there were plenty of people in the park who had a sentimental attachment to the hall of presidents, and whatever debra's people came up with would have to answer their longing. "i'm going to do it during the demo," i told dan, while i piloted the runabout from home to the castmember parking. i snuck a look at him to gauge his reaction. he had his poker face on. "i'm not going to tell lil," i continued. "it's better that she doesn't know -- plausible deniability." "and me?" he said. "don't i need plausible deniability?" "no," i said. "no, you don't. you're an outsider. you can make the case that you were working on your own -- gone rogue." i knew it wasn't fair. dan was here to build up his whuffie, and if he was implicated in my dirty scheme, he'd have to start over again. i knew it wasn't fair, but i didn't care. i knew that we were fighting for our own survival. "it's good versus evil, dan. you don't want to be a post-person. you want to stay human. the rides are human. we each mediate them through our own experience. we're physically inside of them, and they talk to us through our senses. what debra's people are building -- it's hive-mind shit. directly implanting thoughts! jesus! it's not an experience, it's brainwashing! you gotta know that." i was pleading, arguing with myself as much as with him. i snuck another look at him as i sped along the disney back-roads, lined with sweaty florida pines and immaculate purple signage. dan was looking thoughtful, the way he had back in our old days in toronto. some of my tension dissipated. he was thinking about it -- i'd gotten through to him. "jules, this isn't one of your better ideas." my chest tightened, and he patted my shoulder. he had the knack of putting me at my ease, even when he was telling me that i was an idiot. "even if debra was behind your assassination -- and that's not a certainty, we both know that. even if that's the case, we've got better means at our disposal. improving the mansion, competing with her head to head, that's smart. give it a little while and we can come back at her, take over the hall -- even the pirates, that'd really piss her off. hell, if we can prove she was behind the assassination, we can chase her off right now. sabotage is not going to do you any good. you've got lots of other options." "but none of them are fast enough, and none of them are emotionally satisfying. this way has some goddamn _balls_." we reached castmember parking, i swung the runabout into a slot and stalked out before it had a chance to extrude its recharger cock. i heard dan's door slam behind me and knew that he was following behind. we took to the utilidors grimly. i walked past the cameras, knowing that my image was being archived, my presence logged. i'd picked the timing of my raid carefully: by arriving at high noon, i was sticking to my traditional pattern for watching hot-weather crowd dynamics. i'd made a point of visiting twice during the previous week at this time, and of dawdling in the commissary before heading topside. the delay between my arrival in the runabout and my showing up at the mansion would not be discrepant. dan dogged my heels as i swung towards the commissary, and then hugged the wall, in the camera's blindspot. back in my early days in the park, when i was courting lil, she showed me the a-vac, the old pneumatic waste-disposal system, decommissioned in the s. the kids who grew up in the park had been notorious explorers of the tubes, which still whiffed faintly of the garbage bags they'd once whisked at mph to the dump on the property's outskirts, but for a brave, limber kid, the tubes were a subterranean wonderland to explore when the hypermediated experiences of the park lost their luster. i snarled a grin and popped open the service entrance. "if they hadn't killed me and forced me to switch to a new body, i probably wouldn't be flexible enough to fit in," i hissed at dan. "ironic, huh?" i clambered inside without waiting for a reply, and started inching my way under the hall of presidents. # my plan had covered every conceivable detail, except one, which didn't occur to me until i was forty minutes into the pneumatic tube, arms held before me and legs angled back like a swimmer's. how was i going to reach into my pockets? specifically, how was i going to retrieve my herf gun from my back pants-pocket, when i couldn't even bend my elbows? the herf gun was the crux of the plan: a high energy radio frequency generator with a directional, focused beam that would punch up through the floor of the hall of presidents and fuse every goddamn scrap of unshielded electronics on the premises. i'd gotten the germ of the idea during tim's first demo, when i'd seen all of his prototypes spread out backstage, cases off, ready to be tinkered with. unshielded. "dan," i said, my voice oddly muffled by the tube's walls. "yeah?" he said. he'd been silent during the journey, the sound of his painful, elbow-dragging progress through the lightless tube my only indicator of his presence. "can you reach my back pocket?" "oh, shit," he said. "goddamn it," i said, "keep the fucking editorial to yourself. can you reach it or not?" i heard him grunt as he pulled himself up in the tube, then felt his hand groping up my calf. soon, his chest was crushing my calves into the tube's floor and his hand was pawing around my ass. "i can reach it," he said. i could tell from his tone that he wasn't too happy about my snapping at him, but i was too wrapped up to consider an apology, despite what must be happening to my whuffie as dan did his slow burn. he fumbled the gun -- a narrow cylinder as long as my palm -- out of my pocket. "now what?" he said. "can you pass it up?" i asked. dan crawled higher, overtop of me, but stuck fast when his ribcage met my glutes. "i can't get any further," he said. "fine," i said. "you'll have to fire it, then." i held my breath. would he do it? it was one thing to be my accomplice, another to be the author of the destruction. "aw, jules," he said. "a simple yes or no, dan. that's all i want to hear from you." i was boiling with anger -- at myself, at dan, at debra, at the whole goddamn thing. "fine," he said. "good. dial it up to max dispersion and point it straight up." i heard him release the catch, felt a staticky crackle in the air, and then it was done. the gun was a one-shot, something i'd confiscated from a mischievous guest a decade before, when they'd had a brief vogue. "hang on to it," i said. i had no intention of leaving such a damning bit of evidence behind. i resumed my bellycrawl forward to the next service hatch, near the parking lot, where i'd stashed an identical change of clothes for both of us. # we made it back just as the demo was getting underway. debra's ad-hocs were ranged around the mezzanine inside the hall of presidents, a collection of influential castmembers from other ad-hocs filling the pre-show area to capacity. dan and i filed in just as tim was stringing the velvet rope up behind the crowd. he gave me a genuine smile and shook my hand, and i smiled back, full of good feelings now that i knew that he was going down in flames. i found lil and slipped my hand into hers as we filed into the auditorium, which had the new-car smell of rug shampoo and fresh electronics. we took our seats and i bounced my leg nervously, compulsively, while debra, dressed in lincoln's coat and stovepipe, delivered a short speech. there was some kind of broadcast rig mounted over the stage now, something to allow them to beam us all their app in one humongous burst. debra finished up and stepped off the stage to a polite round of applause, and they started the demo. nothing happened. i tried to keep the shit-eating grin off my face as nothing happened. no tone in my cochlea indicating a new file in my public directory, no rush of sensation, nothing. i turned to lil to make some snotty remark, but her eyes were closed, her mouth lolling open, her breath coming in short huffs. down the row, every castmember was in the same attitude of deep, mind-blown concentration. i pulled up a diagnostic hud. nothing. no diagnostics. no hud. i cold-rebooted. nothing. i was offline. # offline, i filed out of the hall of presidents. offline, i took lil's hand and walked to the liberty belle load-zone, our spot for private conversations. offline, i bummed a cigarette from her. lil was upset -- even through my bemused, offline haze, i could tell that. tears pricked her eyes. "why didn't you tell me?" she said, after a hard moment's staring into the moonlight reflecting off the river. "tell you?" i said, dumbly. "they're really good. they're better than good. they're better than us. oh, god." offline, i couldn't find stats or signals to help me discuss the matter. offline, i tried it without help. "i don't think so. i don't think they've got soul, i don't think they've got history, i don't think they've got any kind of connection to the past. the world grew up in the disneys -- they visit this place for continuity as much as for entertainment. we provide that." i'm offline, and they're not -- what the hell happened? "it'll be okay, lil. there's nothing in that place that's better than us. different and new, but not better. you know that -- you've spent more time in the mansion than anyone, you know how much refinement, how much work there is in there. how can something they whipped up in a couple weeks possibly be better that this thing we've been maintaining for all these years?" she ground the back of her sleeve against her eyes and smiled. "sorry," she said. her nose was red, her eyes puffy, her freckles livid over the flush of her cheeks. "sorry -- it's just shocking. maybe you're right. and even if you're not -- hey, that's the whole point of a meritocracy, right? the best stuff survives, everything else gets supplanted. "oh, shit, i hate how i look when i cry," she said. "let's go congratulate them." as i took her hand, i was obscurely pleased with myself for having improved her mood without artificial assistance. # dan was nowhere to be seen as lil and i mounted the stage at the hall, where debra's ad-hocs and a knot of well-wishers were celebrating by passing a rock around. debra had lost the tailcoat and hat, and was in an extreme state of relaxation, arms around the shoulders of two of her cronies, pipe between her teeth. she grinned around the pipe as lil and i stumbled through some insincere compliments, nodded, and toked heavily while tim applied a torch to the bowl. "thanks," she said, laconically. "it was a team effort." she hugged her cronies to her, almost knocking their heads together. lil said, "what's your timeline, then?" debra started unreeling a long spiel about critical paths, milestones, requirements meetings, and i tuned her out. ad-hocs were crazy for that process stuff. i stared at my feet, at the floorboards, and realized that they weren't floorboards at all, but faux-finish painted over a copper mesh -- a faraday cage. that's why the herf gun hadn't done anything; that's why they'd been so casual about working with the shielding off their computers. with my eye, i followed the copper shielding around the entire stage and up the walls, where it disappeared into the ceiling. once again, i was struck by the evolvedness of debra's ad-hocs, how their trial by fire in china had armored them against the kind of bush-league jiggery-pokery that the fuzzy bunnies in florida -- myself included -- came up with. for instance, i didn't think there was a single castmember in the park outside of deb's clique with the stones to stage an assassination. once i'd made that leap, i realized that it was only a matter of time until they staged another one -- and another, and another. whatever they could get away with. debra's spiel finally wound down and lil and i headed away. i stopped in front of the backup terminal in the gateway between liberty square and fantasyland. "when was the last time you backed up?" i asked her. if they could go after me, they might go after any of us. "yesterday," she said. she exuded bone-weariness at me, looking more like an overmediated guest than a tireless castmember. "let's run another backup, huh? we should really back up at night and at lunchtime -- with things the way they are, we can't afford to lose an afternoon's work, much less a week's." lil rolled her eyes. i knew better than to argue with her when she was tired, but this was too crucial to set aside for petulance. "you can back up that often if you want to, julius, but don't tell me how to live my life, okay?" "come on, lil -- it only takes a minute, and it'd make me feel a lot better. please?" i hated the whine in my voice. "no, julius. no. let's go home and get some sleep. i want to do some work on new merch for the mansion -- some collectible stuff, maybe." "for christ's sake, is it really so much to ask? fine. wait while i back up, then, all right?" lil groaned and glared at me. i approached the terminal and cued a backup. nothing happened. oh, yeah, right, i was offline. a cool sweat broke out all over my new body. # lil grabbed the couch as soon as we got in, mumbling something about wanting to work on some revised merch ideas she'd had. i glared at her as she subvocalized and air-typed in the corner, shut away from me. i hadn't told her that i was offline yet -- it just seemed like insignificant personal bitching relative to the crises she was coping with. besides, i'd been knocked offline before, though not in fifty years, and often as not the system righted itself after a good night's sleep. i could visit the doctor in the morning if things were still screwy. so i crawled into bed, and when my bladder woke me in the night, i had to go into the kitchen to consult our old starburst clock to get the time. it was a.m., and when the hell had we expunged the house of all timepieces, anyway? lil was sacked out on the couch, and complained feebly when i tried to rouse her, so i covered her with a blanket and went back to bed, alone. i woke disoriented and crabby, without my customary morning jolt of endorphin. vivid dreams of death and destruction slipped away as i sat up. i preferred to let my subconscious do its own thing, so i'd long ago programmed my systems to keep me asleep during rem cycles except in emergencies. the dream left a foul taste in my mind as i staggered into the kitchen, where lil was fixing coffee. "why didn't you wake me up last night? i'm one big ache from sleeping on the couch," lil said as i stumbled in. she had the perky, jaunty quality of someone who could instruct her nervous system to manufacture endorphin and adrenaline at will. i felt like punching the wall. "you wouldn't get up," i said, and slopped coffee in the general direction of a mug, then scalded my tongue with it. "and why are you up so late? i was hoping you would cover a shift for me -- the merch ideas are really coming together and i wanted to hit the imagineering shop and try some prototyping." "can't." i foraged a slice of bread with cheese and noticed a crumby plate in the sink. dan had already eaten and gone, apparently. "really?" she said, and my blood started to boil in earnest. i slammed dan's plate into the dishwasher and shoved bread into my maw. "yes. really. it's your shift -- fucking work it or call in sick." lil reeled. normally, i was the soul of sweetness in the morning, when i was hormonally enhanced, anyway. "what's wrong, honey?" she said, going into helpful castmember mode. now i wanted to hit something besides the wall. "just leave me alone, all right? go fiddle with fucking merch. i've got real work to do -- in case you haven't noticed, debra's about to eat you and your little band of plucky adventurers and pick her teeth with the bones. for god's sake, lil, don't you ever get fucking angry about anything? don't you have any goddamned passion?" lil whitened and i felt a sinking feeling in my gut. it was the worst thing i could possibly have said. lil and i met three years before, at a barbecue that some friends of her parents threw, a kind of castmember mixer. she'd been just -- apparent and real -- and had a bubbly, flirty vibe that made me dismiss her, at first, as just another airhead castmember. her parents -- tom and rita -- on the other hand, were fascinating people, members of the original ad-hoc that had seized power in walt disney world, wresting control from a gang of wealthy former shareholders who'd been operating it as their private preserve. rita was apparent or so, but she radiated a maturity and a fiery devotion to the park that threw her daughter's superficiality into sharp relief. they throbbed with whuffie, whuffie beyond measure, beyond use. in a world where even a zeroed-out whuffie loser could eat, sleep, travel and access the net without hassle, their wealth was more than sufficient to repeatedly access the piffling few scarce things left on earth over and over. the conversation turned to the first day, when she and her pals had used a cutting torch on the turnstiles and poured in, wearing homemade costumes and name tags. they infiltrated the shops, the control centers, the rides, first by the hundred, then, as the hot july day ticked by, by the thousand. the shareholders' lackeys -- who worked the park for the chance to be a part of the magic, even if they had no control over the management decisions -- put up a token resistance. before the day was out, though, the majority had thrown in their lots with the raiders, handing over security codes and pitching in. "but we knew the shareholders wouldn't give in as easy as that," lil's mother said, sipping her lemonade. "we kept the park running / for the next two weeks, never giving the shareholders a chance to fight back without doing it in front of the guests. we'd prearranged with a couple of airline ad-hocs to add extra routes to orlando and the guests came pouring in." she smiled, remembering the moment, and her features in repose were lil's almost identically. it was only when she was talking that her face changed, muscles tugging it into an expression decades older than the face that bore it. "i spent most of the time running the merch stand at madame leota's outside the mansion, gladhanding the guests while hissing nasties back and forth with the shareholders who kept trying to shove me out. i slept in a sleeping bag on the floor of the utilidor, with a couple dozen others, in three hour shifts. that was when i met this asshole" -- she chucked her husband on the shoulder -- "he'd gotten the wrong sleeping bag by mistake and wouldn't budge when i came down to crash. i just crawled in next to him and the rest, as they say, is history." lil rolled her eyes and made gagging noises. "jesus, rita, no one needs to hear about that part of it." tom patted her arm. "lil, you're an adult -- if you can't stomach hearing about your parents' courtship, you can either sit somewhere else or grin and bear it. but you don't get to dictate the topic of conversation." lil gave us adults a very youthful glare and flounced off. rita shook her head at lil's departing backside. "there's not much fire in that generation," she said. "not a lot of passion. it's our fault -- we thought that disney world would be the best place to raise a child in the bitchun society. maybe it was, but. . ." she trailed off and rubbed her palms on her thighs, a gesture i'd come to know in lil, by and by. "i guess there aren't enough challenges for them these days. they're too cooperative." she laughed and her husband took her hand. "we sound like our parents," tom said. "'when we were growing up, we didn't have any of this newfangled life-extension stuff -- we took our chances with the cave bears and the dinosaurs!'" tom wore himself older, apparent , with graying sidewalls and crinkled smile-lines, the better to present a non-threatening air of authority to the guests. it was a truism among the first-gen ad-hocs that women castmembers should wear themselves young, men old. "we're just a couple of bitchun fundamentalists, i guess." lil called over from a nearby conversation: "are they telling you what a pack of milksops we are, julius? when you get tired of that, why don't you come over here and have a smoke?" i noticed that she and her cohort were passing a crack pipe. "what's the use?" lil's mother sighed. "oh, i don't know that it's as bad as all that," i said, virtually my first words of the afternoon. i was painfully conscious that i was only there by courtesy, just one of the legion of hopefuls who flocked to orlando every year, aspiring to a place among the ruling cliques. "they're passionate about maintaining the park, that's for sure. i made the mistake of lifting a queue-gate at the jungleboat cruise last week and i got a very earnest lecture about the smooth functioning of the park from a castmember who couldn't have been more than . i think that they don't have the passion for creating bitchunry that we have -- they don't need it -- but they've got plenty of drive to maintain it." lil's mother gave me a long, considering look that i didn't know what to make of. i couldn't tell if i had offended her or what. "i mean, you can't be a revolutionary after the revolution, can you? didn't we all struggle so that kids like lil wouldn't have to?" "funny you should say that," tom said. he had the same considering look on his face. "just yesterday we were talking about the very same thing. we were talking --" he drew a breath and looked askance at his wife, who nodded -- "about deadheading. for a while, anyway. see if things changed much in fifty or a hundred years." i felt a kind of shameful disappointment. why was i wasting my time schmoozing with these two, when they wouldn't be around when the time came to vote me in? i banished the thought as quickly as it came -- i was talking to them because they were nice people. not every conversation had to be strategically important. "really? deadheading." i remember that i thought of dan then, about his views on the cowardice of deadheading, on the bravery of ending it when you found yourself obsolete. he'd comforted me once, when my last living relative, my uncle, opted to go to sleep for three thousand years. my uncle had been born pre-bitchun, and had never quite gotten the hang of it. still, he was my link to my family, to my first adulthood and my only childhood. dan had taken me to gananoque and we'd spent the day bounding around the countryside on seven-league boots, sailing high over the lakes of the thousand islands and the crazy fiery carpet of autumn leaves. we topped off the day at a dairy commune he knew where they still made cheese from cow's milk and there'd been a thousand smells and bottles of strong cider and a girl whose name i'd long since forgotten but whose exuberant laugh i'd remember forever. and it wasn't so important, then, my uncle going to sleep for three milliennia, because whatever happened, there were the leaves and the lakes and the crisp sunset the color of blood and the girl's laugh. "have you talked to lil about it?" rita shook her head. "it's just a thought, really. we don't want to worry her. she's not good with hard decisions -- it's her generation." they changed the subject not long thereafter, and i sensed discomfort, knew that they had told me too much, more than they'd intended. i drifted off and found lil and her young pals, and we toked a little and cuddled a little. within a month, i was working at the haunted mansion, tom and rita were invested in canopic jars in kissimee with instructions not to be woken until their newsbots grabbed sufficient interesting material to make it worth their while, and lil and i were a hot item. lil didn't deal well with her parents' decision to deadhead. for her, it was a slap in the face, a reproach to her and her generation of twittering polyannic castmembers. for god's sake, lil, don't you ever get fucking angry about anything? don't you have any goddamned passion? the words were out of my mouth before i knew i was saying them, and lil, percent of my age, young enough to be my great-granddaughter; lil, my lover and best friend and sponsor to the liberty square ad-hocracy; lil turned white as a sheet, turned on her heel and walked out of the kitchen. she got in her runabout and went to the park to take her shift. i went back to bed and stared at the ceiling fan as it made its lazy turns, and felt like shit. ========= chapter ========= when i finally returned to the park, hours had passed and lil had not come back to the house. if she'd tried to call, she would've gotten my voicemail -- i had no way of answering my phone. as it turned out, she hadn't been trying to reach me at all. i'd spent the time alternately moping, drinking, and plotting terrible, irrational vengeance on debra for killing me, destroying my relationship, taking away my beloved (in hindsight, anyway) hall of presidents and threatening the mansion. even in my addled state, i knew that this was pretty unproductive, and i kept promising that i would cut it out, take a shower and some sober-ups, and get to work at the mansion. i was working up the energy to do just that when dan came in. "jesus," he said, shocked. i guess i was a bit of a mess, sprawled on the sofa in my underwear, all gamy and baggy and bloodshot. "hey, dan. how's it goin'?" he gave me one of his patented wry looks and i felt the same weird reversal of roles that we'd undergone at the u of t, when he had become the native, and i had become the interloper. he was the together one with the wry looks and i was the pathetic seeker who'd burned all his reputation capital. out of habit, i checked my whuffie, and a moment later i stopped being startled by its low score and was instead shocked by the fact that i could check it at all. i was back online! "now, what do you know about that?" i said, staring at my dismal whuffie. "what?" he said. i called his cochlea. "my systems are back online," i subvocalized. he started. "you were offline?" i jumped up from the couch and did a little happy underwear dance. "i _was_, but i'm not _now_." i felt better than i had in days, ready to beat the world -- or at least debra. "let me take a shower, then let's get to the imagineering labs. i've got a pretty kickass idea." # the idea, as i explained it in the runabout, was a preemptive rehab of the mansion. sabotaging the hall had been a nasty, stupid idea, and i'd gotten what i deserved for it. the whole point of the bitchun society was to be more reputable than the next ad-hoc, to succeed on merit, not trickery, despite assassinations and the like. so a rehab it would be. "back in the early days of the disneyland mansion, in california," i explained, "walt had a guy in a suit of armor just past the first doom buggy curve, he'd leap out and scare the hell out of the guests as they went by. it didn't last long, of course. the poor bastard kept getting punched out by startled guests, and besides, the armor wasn't too comfortable for long shifts." dan chuckled appreciatively. the bitchun society had all but done away with any sort of dull, repetitious labor, and what remained -- tending bar, mopping toilets -- commanded whuffie aplenty and a life of leisure in your off-hours. "but that guy in the suit of armor, he could _improvise_. you'd get a slightly different show every time. it's like the castmembers who spiel on the jungleboat cruise. they've each got their own patter, their own jokes, and even though the animatronics aren't so hot, it makes the show worth seeing." "you're going to fill the mansion with castmembers in armor?" dan asked, shaking his head. i waved away his objections, causing the runabout to swerve, terrifying a pack of guests who were taking a ride on rented bikes around the property. "no," i said, flapping a hand apologetically at the white- faced guests. "not at all. but what if all of the animatronics had human operators -- telecontrollers, working with waldoes? we'll let them interact with the guests, talk with them, scare them. . . we'll get rid of the existing animatronics, replace 'em with full-mobility robots, then cast the parts over the net. think of the whuffie! you could put, say, a thousand operators online at once, ten shifts per day, each of them caught up in our mansion. . . we'll give out awards for outstanding performances, the shifts'll be based on popular vote. in effect, we'll be adding another ten thousand guests to the mansion's throughput every day, only these guests will be honorary castmembers." "that's pretty good," dan said. "very bitchun. debra may have ai and flash-baking, but you'll have human interaction, courtesy of the biggest mansion-fans in the world --" "and those are the very fans debra'll have to win over to make a play for the mansion. very elegant, huh?" # the first order of business was to call lil, patch things up, and pitch the idea to her. the only problem was, my cochlea was offline again. my mood started to sour, and i had dan call her instead. we met her up at imagineering, a massive complex of prefab aluminum buildings painted go-away green that had thronged with mad inventors since the bitchun society had come to walt disney world. the ad-hocs who had built an imagineering department in florida and now ran the thing were the least political in the park, classic labcoat-and-clipboard types who would work for anyone so long as the ideas were cool. not caring about whuffie meant that they accumulated it in plenty on both the left and right hands. lil was working with suneep, aka the merch miracle. he could design, prototype and produce a souvenir faster than anyone -- shirts, sculptures, pens, toys, housewares, he was the king. they were collaborating on their huds, facing each other across a lab-bench in the middle of a lab as big as a basketball court, cluttered with logomarked tchotchkes and gabbling away while their eyes danced over invisible screens. dan reflexively joined the collaborative space as he entered the lab, leaving me the only one out on the joke. dan was clearly delighted by what he saw. i nudged him with an elbow. "make a hardcopy," i hissed. instead of pitying me, he just airtyped a few commands and pages started to roll out of a printer in the lab's corner. anyone else would have made a big deal out of it, but he just brought me into the discussion. if i needed proof that lil and i were meant for each other, the designs she and suneep had come up with were more than enough. she'd been thinking just the way i had -- souvenirs that stressed the human scale of the mansion. there were miniature animatronics of the hitchhiking ghosts in a black-light box, their skeletal robotics visible through their layers of plastic clothing; action figures that communicated by ir, so that placing one in proximity with another would unlock its mansion-inspired behaviors -- the raven cawed, mme. leota's head incanted, the singing busts sang. she'd worked up some formal attire based on the castmember costume, cut in this year's stylish lines. it was good merch, is what i'm trying to say. in my mind's eye, i was seeing the relaunch of the mansion in six months, filled with robotic avatars of mansion-nuts the world 'round, mme. leota's gift cart piled high with brilliant swag, strolling human players ad-libbing with the guests in the queue area. . . lil looked up from her mediated state and glared at me as i pored over the hardcopy, nodding enthusiastically. "passionate enough for you?" she snapped. i felt a flush creeping into face, my ears. it was somewhere between anger and shame, and i reminded myself that i was more than a century older than her, and it was my responsibility to be mature. also, i'd started the fight. "this is fucking fantastic, lil," i said. her look didn't soften. "really choice stuff. i had a great idea --" i ran it down for her, the avatars, the robots, the rehab. she stopped glaring, started taking notes, smiling, showing me her dimples, her slanted eyes crinkling at the corners. "this isn't easy," she said, finally. suneep, who'd been politely pretending not to listen in, nodded involuntarily. dan, too. "i know that," i said. the flush burned hotter. "but that's the point -- what debra does isn't easy either. it's risky, dangerous. it made her and her ad-hoc better -- it made them sharper." _sharper than us, that's for sure_. "they can make decisions like this fast, and execute them just as quickly. we need to be able to do that, too." was i really advocating being more like debra? the words'd just popped out, but i saw that i'd been right -- we'd have to beat debra at her own game, out-evolve her ad-hocs. "i understand what you're saying," lil said. i could tell she was upset -- she'd reverted to castmemberspeak. "it's a very good idea. i think that we stand a good chance of making it happen if we approach the group and put it to them, after doing the research, building the plans, laying out the critical path, and privately soliciting feedback from some of them." i felt like i was swimming in molasses. at the rate that the liberty square ad-hoc moved, we'd be holding formal requirements reviews while debra's people tore down the mansion around us. so i tried a different tactic. "suneep, you've been involved in some rehabs, right?" suneep nodded slowly, with a cautious expression, a nonpolitical animal being drawn into a political discussion. "okay, so tell me, if we came to you with this plan and asked you to pull together a production schedule -- one that didn't have any review, just take the idea and run with it -- and then pull it off, how long would it take you to execute it?" lil smiled primly. she'd dealt with imagineering before. "about five years," he said, almost instantly. "five years?" i squawked. "why five years? debra's people overhauled the hall in a month!" "oh, wait," he said. "no review at all?" "no review. just come up with the best way you can to do this, and do it. and we can provide you with unlimited, skilled labor, three shifts around the clock." he rolled his eyes back and ticked off days on his fingers while muttering under his breath. he was a tall, thin man with a shock of curly dark hair that he smoothed unconsciously with surprisingly stubby fingers while he thought. "about eight weeks," he said. "barring accidents, assuming off-the-shelf parts, unlimited labor, capable management, material availability. . ." he trailed off again, and his short fingers waggled as he pulled up a hud and started making a list. "wait," lil said, alarmed. "how do you get from five years to eight weeks?" now it was my turn to smirk. i'd seen how imagineering worked when they were on their own, building prototypes and conceptual mockups -- i knew that the real bottleneck was the constant review and revisions, the ever-fluctuating groupmind consensus of the ad-hoc that commissioned their work. suneep looked sheepish. "well, if all i have to do is satisfy myself that my plans are good and my buildings won't fall down, i can make it happen very fast. of course, my plans aren't perfect. sometimes, i'll be halfway through a project when someone suggests a new flourish or approach that makes the whole thing immeasurably better. then it's back to the drawing board. . . so i stay at the drawing board for a long time at the start, get feedback from other imagineers, from the ad-hocs, from focus groups and the net. then we do reviews at every stage of construction, check to see if anyone has had a great idea we haven't thought of and incorporate it, sometimes rolling back the work. "it's slow, but it works." lil was flustered. "but if you can do a complete revision in eight weeks, why not just finish it, then plan another revision, do _that_ one in eight weeks, and so on? why take five years before anyone can ride the thing?" "because that's how it's done," i said to lil. "but that's not how it _has_ to be done. that's how we'll save the mansion." i felt the surety inside of me, the certain knowledge that i was right. ad-hocracy was a great thing, a bitchun thing, but the organization needed to turn on a dime -- that would be even _more_ bitchun. "lil," i said, looking into her eyes, trying to burn my pov into her. "we have to do this. it's our only chance. we'll recruit hundreds to come to florida and work on the rehab. we'll give every mansion nut on the planet a shot at joining up, then we'll recruit them again to work at it, to run the telepresence rigs. we'll get buy-in from the biggest super-recommenders in the world, and we'll build something better and faster than any ad-hoc ever has, without abandoning the original imagineers' vision. it will be unspeakably bitchun." lil dropped her eyes and it was her turn to flush. she paced the floor, hands swinging at her sides. i could tell that she was still angry with me, but excited and scared and yes, passionate. "it's not up to me, you know," she said at length, still pacing. dan and i exchanged wicked grins. she was in. "i know," i said. but it was, almost -- she was a real opinion-leader in the liberty square ad-hoc, someone who knew the systems back and forth, someone who made good, reasonable decisions and kept her head in a crisis. not a hothead. not prone to taking radical switchbacks. this plan would burn up that reputation and the whuffie that accompanied it, in short order, but by the time that happened, she'd have plenty of whuffie with the new, thousands-strong ad-hoc. "i mean, i can't guarantee anything. i'd like to study the plans that imagineering comes through with, do some walk-throughs --" i started to object, to remind her that speed was of the essence, but she beat me to it. "but i won't. we have to move fast. i'm in." she didn't come into my arms, didn't kiss me and tell me everything was forgiven, but she bought in, and that was enough. # my systems came back online sometime that day, and i hardly noticed, i was so preoccupied with the new mansion. holy shit, was it ever audacious: since the first mansion opened in california in , no one had ever had the guts to seriously fuxor with it. oh, sure, the paris version, phantom manor, had a slightly different storyline, but it was just a minor bit of tweakage to satisfy the european market at the time. no one wanted to screw up the legend. what the hell made the mansion so cool, anyway? i'd been to disney world any number of times as a guest before i settled in, and truth be told, it had never been my absolute favorite. but when i returned to disney world, live and in person, freshly bored stupid by the three-hour liveheaded flight from toronto, i'd found myself crowd-driven to it. i'm a terrible, terrible person to visit theme-parks with. since i was a punk kid snaking my way through crowded subway platforms, eeling into the only seat on a packed car, i'd been obsessed with beating the crowd. in the early days of the bitchun society, i'd known a blackjack player, a compulsive counter of cards, an idiot savant of odds. he was a pudgy, unassuming engineer, the moderately successful founder of a moderately successful high-tech startup that had done something arcane with software agents. while he was only moderately successful, he was fabulously wealthy: he'd never raised a cent of financing for his company, and had owned it outright when he finally sold it for a bathtub full of money. his secret was the green felt tables of vegas, where he'd pilgrim off to every time his bank balance dropped, there to count the monkey-cards and calculate the odds and beat the house. long after his software company was sold, long after he'd made his nut, he was dressing up in silly disguises and hitting the tables, grinding out hand after hand of twenty-one, for the sheer satisfaction of beating the house. for him, it was pure brain-reward, a jolt of happy-juice every time the dealer busted and every time he doubled down on a deckfull of face cards. though i'd never bought so much as a lottery ticket, i immediately got his compulsion: for me, it was beating the crowd, finding the path of least resistance, filling the gaps, guessing the short queue, dodging the traffic, changing lanes with a whisper to spare -- moving with precision and grace and, above all, _expedience_. on that fateful return, i checked into the fort wilderness campground, pitched my tent, and fairly ran to the ferry docks to catch a barge over to the main gate. crowds were light until i got right up to main gate and the ticketing queues. suppressing an initial instinct to dash for the farthest one, beating my ferrymates to what rule-of-thumb said would have the shortest wait, i stepped back and did a quick visual survey of the twenty kiosks and evaluated the queued-up huddle in front of each. pre-bitchun, i'd have been primarily interested in their ages, but that is less and less a measure of anything other than outlook, so instead i carefully examined their queuing styles, their dress, and more than anything, their burdens. you can tell more about someone's ability to efficiently negotiate the complexities of a queue through what they carry than through any other means -- if only more people realized it. the classic, of course, is the unladen citizen, a person naked of even a modest shoulderbag or marsupial pocket. to the layperson, such a specimen might be thought of as a sure bet for a fast transaction, but i'd done an informal study and come to the conclusion that these brave iconoclasts are often the flightiest of the lot, left smiling with bovine mystification, patting down their pockets in a fruitless search for a writing implement, a piece of id, a keycard, a rabbit's foot, a rosary, a tuna sandwich. no, for my money, i'll take what i call the road worrier anytime. such a person is apt to be carefully slung with four or five carriers of one description or another, from bulging cargo pockets to clever military- grade strap-on pouches with biometrically keyed closures. the thing to watch for is the ergonomic consideration given to these conveyances: do they balance, are they slung for minimum interference and maximum ease of access? someone who's given that much consideration to their gear is likely spending their time in line determining which bits and pieces they'll need when they reach its headwaters and is holding them at ready for fastest-possible processing. this is a tricky call, since there are lookalike pretenders, gear-pigs who pack _everything_ because they lack the organizational smarts to figure out what they should pack -- they're just as apt to be burdened with bags and pockets and pouches, but the telltale is the efficiency of that slinging. these pack mules will sag beneath their loads, juggling this and that while pushing overloose straps up on their shoulders. i spied a queue that was made up of a group of road worriers, a queue that was slightly longer than the others, but i joined it and ticced nervously as i watched my progress relative to the other spots i could've chosen. i was borne out, a positive omen for a wait-free world, and i was sauntering down main street, usa long before my ferrymates. returning to walt disney world was a homecoming for me. my parents had brought me the first time when i was all of ten, just as the first inklings of the bitchun society were trickling into everyone's consciousness: the death of scarcity, the death of death, the struggle to rejig an economy that had grown up focused on nothing but scarcity and death. my memories of the trip are dim but warm, the balmy florida climate and a sea of smiling faces punctuated by magical, darkened moments riding in omnimover cars, past diorama after diorama. i went again when i graduated high school and was amazed by the richness of detail, the grandiosity and grandeur of it all. i spent a week there stunned bovine, grinning and wandering from corner to corner. someday, i knew, i'd come to live there. the park became a touchstone for me, a constant in a world where everything changed. again and again, i came back to the park, grounding myself, communing with all the people i'd been. that day i bopped from land to land, ride to ride, seeking out the short lines, the eye of the hurricane that crowded the park to capacity. i'd take high ground, standing on a bench or hopping up on a fence, and do a visual reccy of all the queues in sight, try to spot prevailing currents in the flow of the crowd, generally having a high old obsessive time. truth be told, i probably spent as much time looking for walk-ins as i would've spent lining up like a good little sheep, but i had more fun and got more exercise. the haunted mansion was experiencing a major empty spell: the snow crash spectacular parade had just swept through liberty square en route to fantasyland, dragging hordes of guests along with it, dancing to the japrap sounds of the comical sushi-k and aping the movements of the brave hiro protagonist. when they blew out, liberty square was a ghost town, and i grabbed the opportunity to ride the mansion five times in a row, walking on every time. the way i tell it to lil, i noticed her and then i noticed the mansion, but to tell the truth it was the other way around. the first couple rides through, i was just glad of the aggressive air conditioning and the delicious sensation of sweat drying on my skin. but on the third pass, i started to notice just how goddamn cool the thing was. there wasn't a single bit of tech more advanced than a film-loop projector in the whole place, but it was all so cunningly contrived that the illusion of a haunted house was perfect: the ghosts that whirled through the ballroom were _ghosts_, three-dimensional and ethereal and phantasmic. the ghosts that sang in comical tableaux through the graveyard were equally convincing, genuinely witty and simultaneously creepy. my fourth pass through, i noticed the _detail_, the hostile eyes worked into the wallpaper's pattern, the motif repeated in the molding, the chandeliers, the photo gallery. i began to pick out the words to "grim grinning ghosts," the song that is repeated throughout the ride, whether in sinister organ-tones repeating the main theme troppo troppo or the spritely singing of the four musical busts in the graveyard. it's a catchy tune, one that i hummed on my fifth pass through, this time noticing that the overaggressive ac was, actually, mysterious chills that blew through the rooms as wandering spirits made their presence felt. by the time i debarked for the fifth time, i was whistling the tune with jazzy improvisations in a mixed-up tempo. that's when lil and i ran into each other. she was picking up a discarded ice-cream wrapper -- i'd seen a dozen castmembers picking up trash that day, seen it so frequently that i'd started doing it myself. she grinned slyly at me as i debarked into the fried-food-and- disinfectant perfume of the park, hands in pockets, thoroughly pleased with myself for having so completely _experienced_ a really fine hunk of art. i smiled back at her, because it was only natural that one of the whuffie-kings who were privileged to tend this bit of heavenly entertainment should notice how thoroughly i was enjoying her work. "that's really, really bitchun," i said to her, admiring the titanic mountains of whuffie my hud attributed to her. she was in character, and not supposed to be cheerful, but castmembers of her generation can't help but be friendly. she compromised between ghastly demeanor and her natural sweet spirit, and leered a grin at me, thumped through a zombie's curtsey, and moaned "thank you -- we _do_ try to keep it _spirited_." i groaned appreciatively, and started to notice just how very cute she was, this little button of a girl with her rotting maid's uniform and her feather-shedding duster. she was just so clean and scrubbed and happy about everything, she radiated it and made me want to pinch her cheeks -- either set. the moment was on me, and so i said, "when do they let you ghouls off? i'd love to take you out for a zombie or a bloody mary." which led to more horrifying banter, and to my taking her out for a couple at the adventurer's club, learning her age in the process and losing my nerve, telling myself that there was nothing we could possibly have to say to each other across a century-wide gap. while i tell lil that i noticed her first and the mansion second, the reverse is indeed true. but it's also true -- and i never told her this -- that the thing i love best about the mansion is: it's where i met her. # dan and i spent the day riding the mansion, drafting scripts for the telepresence players who we hoped to bring on-board. we were in a totally creative zone, the dialog running as fast as he could transcribe it. jamming on ideas with dan was just about as terrific as a pass-time could be. i was all for leaking the plan to the net right away, getting hearts- and-minds action with our core audience, but lil turned it down. she was going to spend the next couple days quietly politicking among the rest of the ad-hoc, getting some support for the idea, and she didn't want the appearance of impropriety that would come from having outsiders being brought in before the ad-hoc. talking to the ad-hocs, bringing them around -- it was a skill i'd never really mastered. dan was good at it, lil was good at it, but me, i think that i was too self-centered to ever develop good skills as a peacemaker. in my younger days, i assumed that it was because i was smarter than everyone else, with no patience for explaining things in short words for mouth-breathers who just didn't get it. the truth of the matter is, i'm a bright enough guy, but i'm hardly a genius. especially when it comes to people. probably comes from beating the crowd, never seeing individuals, just the mass -- the enemy of expedience. i never would have made it into the liberty square ad-hoc on my own. lil made it happen for me, long before we started sleeping together. i'd assumed that her folks would be my best allies in the process of joining up, but they were too jaded, too ready to take the long sleep to pay much attention to a newcomer like me. lil took me under her wing, inviting me to after-work parties, talking me up to her cronies, quietly passing around copies of my thesis-work. and she did the same in reverse, sincerely extolling the virtues of the others i met, so that i knew what there was to respect about them and couldn't help but treat them as individuals. in the years since, i'd lost that respect. mostly, i palled around with lil, and once he arrived, dan, and with net-friends around the world. the ad-hocs that i worked with all day treated me with basic courtesy but not much friendliness. i guess i treated them the same. when i pictured them in my mind, they were a faceless, passive-aggressive mass, too caught up in the starchy world of consensus-building to ever do much of anything. dan and i threw ourselves into it headlong, trolling the net for address lists of mansion-otakus from the four corners of the globe, spreadsheeting them against their timezones, temperaments, and, of course, their whuffie. "that's weird," i said, looking up from the old-fashioned terminal i was using -- my systems were back offline. they'd been sputtering up and down for a couple days now, and i kept meaning to go to the doctor, but i'd never gotten 'round to it. periodically, i'd get a jolt of urgency when i remembered that this meant my backup was stale-dating, but the mansion always took precedence. "huh?" he said. i tapped the display. "see these?" it was a fan-site, displaying a collection of animated -d meshes of various elements of the mansion, part of a giant collaborative project that had been ongoing for decades, to build an accurate -d walkthrough of every inch of the park. i'd used those meshes to build my own testing fly-throughs. "those are terrific," dan said. "that guy must be a total _fiend_." the meshes' author had painstakingly modeled, chained and animated every ghost in the ballroom scene, complete with the kinematics necessary for full motion. where a "normal" fan-artist might've used a standard human kinematics library for the figures, this one had actually written his own from the ground up, so that the ghosts moved with a spectral fluidity that was utterly unhuman. "who's the author?" dan asked. "do we have him on our list yet?" i scrolled down to display the credits. "i'll be damned," dan breathed. the author was tim, debra's elfin crony. he'd submitted the designs a week before my assassination. "what do you think it means?" i asked dan, though i had a couple ideas on the subject myself. "tim's a mansion nut," dan said. "i knew that." "you knew?" he looked a little defensive. "sure. i told you, back when you had me hanging out with debra's gang." had i asked him to hang out with debra? as i remembered it, it had been his suggestion. too much to think about. "but what does it mean, dan? is he an ally? should we try to recruit him? or is he the one that'd convinced debra she needs to take over the mansion?" dan shook his head. "i'm not even sure that she wants to take over the mansion. i know debra, all she wants to do is turn ideas into things, as fast and as copiously as possible. she picks her projects carefully. she's acquisitive, sure, but she's cautious. she had a great idea for presidents, and so she took over. i never heard her talk about the mansion." "of course you didn't. she's cagey. did you hear her talk about the hall of presidents?" dan fumbled. "not really. . . i mean, not in so many words, but --" "but nothing," i said. "she's after the mansion, she's after the magic kingdom, she's after the park. she's taking over, goddamn it, and i'm the only one who seems to have noticed." # i came clean to lil about my systems that night, as we were fighting. fighting had become our regular evening pastime, and dan had taken to sleeping at one of the hotels on-site rather than endure it. i'd started it, of course. "we're going to get killed if we don't get off our asses and start the rehab," i said, slamming myself down on the sofa and kicking at the scratched coffee table. i heard the hysteria and unreason in my voice and it just made me madder. i was frustrated by not being able to check in on suneep and dan, and, as usual, it was too late at night to call anyone and do anything about it. by the morning, i'd have forgotten again. from the kitchen, lil barked back, "i'm doing what i can, jules. if you've got a better way, i'd love to hear about it." "oh, bullshit. i'm doing what i can, planning the thing out. i'm ready to _go_. it was your job to get the ad-hocs ready for it, but you keep telling me they're not. when will they be?" "jesus, you're a nag." "i wouldn't nag if you'd only fucking make it happen. what are you doing all day, anyway? working shifts at the mansion? rearranging deck chairs on the great titanic adventure?" "i'm working my fucking _ass_ off. i've spoken to every goddamn one of them at least twice this week about it." "sure," i hollered at the kitchen. "sure you have." "don't take my word for it, then. check my fucking phone logs." she waited. "well? check them!" "i'll check them later," i said, dreading where this was going. "oh, no you _don't_," she said, stalking into the room, fuming. "you can't call me a liar and then refuse to look at the evidence." she planted her hands on her slim little hips and glared at me. she'd gone pale and i could count every freckle on her face, her throat, her collarbones, the swell of her cleavage in the old vee-neck shirt i'd given her on a day-trip to nassau. "well?" she asked. she looked ready to wring my neck. "i can't," i admitted, not meeting her eyes. "yes you can -- here, i'll dump it to your public directory." her expression shifted to one of puzzlement when she failed to locate me on her network. "what's going on?" so i told her. offline, outcast, malfunctioning. "well, why haven't you gone to the doctor? i mean, it's been _weeks_. i'll call him right now." "forget it," i said. "i'll see him tomorrow. no sense in getting him out of bed." but i didn't see him the day after, or the day after that. too much to do, and the only times i remembered to call someone, i was too far from a public terminal or it was too late or too early. my systems came online a couple times, and i was too busy with the plans for the mansion. lil grew accustomed to the drifts of hard copy that littered the house, to printing out her annotations to my designs and leaving them on my favorite chair -- to living like the cavemen of the information age had, surrounded by dead trees and ticking clocks. being offline helped me focus. focus is hardly the word for it -- i obsessed. i sat in front of the terminal i'd brought home all day, every day, crunching plans, dictating voicemail. people who wanted to reach me had to haul ass out to the house, and _speak_ to me. i grew too obsessed to fight, and dan moved back, and then it was my turn to take hotel rooms so that the rattle of my keyboard wouldn't keep him up nights. he and lil were working a full-time campaign to recruit the ad-hoc to our cause, and i started to feel like we were finally in harmony, about to reach our goal. i went home one afternoon clutching a sheaf of hardcopy and burst into the living room, gabbling a mile-a-minute about a wrinkle on my original plan that would add a third walk-through segment to the ride, increasing the number of telepresence rigs we could use without decreasing throughput. i was mid-babble when my systems came back online. the public chatter in the room sprang up on my hud. _and then i'm going to tear off every stitch of clothing and jump you._ _and then what?_ _i'm going to bang you till you limp. _ _jesus, lil, you are one rangy cowgirl._ my eyes closed, shutting out everything except for the glowing letters. quickly, they vanished. i opened my eyes again, looking at lil, who was flushed and distracted. dan looked scared. "what's going on, dan?" i asked quietly. my heart hammered in my chest, but i felt calm and detached. "jules," he began, then gave up and looked at lil. lil had, by that time, figured out that i was back online, that their secret messaging had been discovered. "having fun, lil?" i asked. lil shook her head and glared at me. "just go, julius. i'll send your stuff to the hotel." "you want me to go, huh? so you can bang him till he limps?" "this is my house, julius. i'm asking you to get out of it. i'll see you at work tomorrow -- we're having a general ad-hoc meeting to vote on the rehab." it was her house. "lil, julius --" dan began. "this is between me and him," lil said. "stay out of it." i dropped my papers -- i wanted to throw them, but i dropped them, _flump_, and i turned on my heel and walked out, not bothering to close the door behind me. # dan showed up at the hotel ten minutes after i did and rapped on my door. i was all-over numb as i opened the door. he had a bottle of tequila -- _my_ tequila, brought over from the house that i'd shared with lil. he sat down on the bed and stared at the logo-marked wallpaper. i took the bottle from him, got a couple glasses from the bathroom and poured. "it's my fault," he said. "i'm sure it is," i said. "we got to drinking a couple nights ago. she was really upset. hadn't seen you in days, and when she _did_ see you, you freaked her out. snapping at her. arguing. insulting her." "so you made her," i said. he shook his head, then nodded, took a drink. "i did. it's been a long time since i. . ." "you had sex with my girlfriend, in my house, while i was away, working." "jules, i'm sorry. i did it, and i kept on doing it. i'm not much of a friend to either of you. "she's pretty broken up. she wanted me to come out here and tell you it was all a mistake, that you were just being paranoid." we sat in silence for a long time. i refilled his glass, then my own. "i couldn't do that," he said. "i'm worried about you. you haven't been right, not for months. i don't know what it is, but you should get to a doctor." "i don't need a doctor," i snapped. the liquor had melted the numbness and left burning anger and bile, my constant companions. "i need a friend who doesn't fuck my girlfriend when my back is turned." i threw my glass at the wall. it bounced off, leaving tequila-stains on the wallpaper, and rolled under the bed. dan started, but stayed seated. if he'd stood up, i would've hit him. dan's good at crises. "if it's any consolation, i expect to be dead pretty soon," he said. he gave me a wry grin. "my whuffie's doing good. this rehab should take it up over the top. i'll be ready to go." that stopped me. i'd somehow managed to forget that dan, my good friend dan, was going to kill himself. "you're going to do it," i said, sitting down next to him. it hurt to think about it. i really liked the bastard. he might've been my best friend. there was a knock at the door. i opened it without checking the peephole. it was lil. she looked younger than ever. young and small and miserable. a snide remark died in my throat. i wanted to hold her. she brushed past me and went to dan, who squirmed out of her embrace. "no," he said, and stood up and sat on the windowsill, staring down at the seven seas lagoon. "dan's just been explaining to me that he plans on being dead in a couple months," i said. "puts a damper on the long-term plans, doesn't it, lil?" tears streamed down her face and she seemed to fold in on herself. "i'll take what i can get," she said. i choked on a knob of misery, and i realized that it was dan, not lil, whose loss upset me the most. lil took dan's hand and led him out of the room. _i guess i'll take what i can get, too_, i thought. ========= chapter ========= lying on my hotel bed, mesmerized by the lazy turns of the ceiling fan, i pondered the possibility that i was nuts. it wasn't unheard of, even in the days of the bitchun society, and even though there were cures, they weren't pleasant. i was once married to a crazy person. we were both about , and i was living for nothing but joy. her name was zoya, and i called her zed. we met in orbit, where i'd gone to experience the famed low-gravity sybarites. getting staggering drunk is not much fun at one gee, but at ten to the neg eight, it's a blast. you don't stagger, you _bounce_, and when you're bouncing in a sphere full of other bouncing, happy, boisterous naked people, things get deeply fun. i was bouncing around inside a clear sphere that was a mile in diameter, filled with smaller spheres in which one could procure bulbs of fruity, deadly concoctions. musical instruments littered the sphere's floor, and if you knew how to play, you'd snag one, tether it to you and start playing. others would pick up their own axes and jam along. the tunes varied from terrific to awful, but they were always energetic. i had been working on my third symphony on and off, and whenever i thought i had a nice bit nailed, i'd spend some time in the sphere playing it. sometimes, the strangers who jammed in gave me new and interesting lines of inquiry, and that was good. even when they didn't, playing an instrument was a fast track to intriguing an interesting, naked stranger. which is how we met. she snagged a piano and pounded out barrelhouse runs in quirky time as i carried the main thread of the movement on a cello. at first it was irritating, but after a short while i came to a dawning comprehension of what she was doing to my music, and it was really _good_. i'm a sucker for musicians. we brought the session to a crashing stop, me bowing furiously as spheres of perspiration beaded on my body and floated gracefully into the hydrotropic recyclers, she beating on the like they were the perp who killed her partner. i collapsed dramatically as the last note crashed through the bubble. the singles, couples and groups stopped in midflight coitus to applaud. she took a bow, untethered herself from the steinway, and headed for the hatch. i coiled my legs up and did a fast burn through the sphere, desperate to reach the hatch before she did. i caught her as she was leaving. "hey!" i said. "that was great! i'm julius! how're you doing?" she reached out with both hands and squeezed my nose and my unit simultaneously -- not hard, you understand, but playfully. "honk!" she said, and squirmed through the hatch while i gaped at my burgeoning chub-on. i chased after her. "wait," i called as she tumbled through the spoke of the station towards the gravity. she had a pianist's body -- re-engineered arms and hands that stretched for impossible lengths, and she used them with a spacehand's grace, vaulting herself forward at speed. i bumbled after her best as i could on my freshman spacelegs, but by the time i reached the half-gee rim of the station, she was gone. i didn't find her again until the next movement was done and i went to the bubble to try it out on an oboe. i was just getting warmed up when she passed through the hatch and tied off to the piano. this time, i clamped the oboe under my arm and bopped over to her before moistening the reed and blowing. i hovered over the piano's top, looking her in the eye as we jammed. her mood that day was / time and i-iv-v progressions, in a feel that swung around from blues to rock to folk, teasing at the edge of my own melodies. she noodled at me, i noodled back at her, and her eyes crinkled charmingly whenever i managed a smidge of tuneful wit. she was almost completely flatchested, and covered in a fine, red downy fur, like a chipmunk. it was a jaunter's style, suited to the climate- controlled, soft-edged life in space. fifty years later, i was dating lil, another redhead, but zed was my first. i played and played, entranced by the fluidity of her movements at the keyboard, her comical moues of concentration when picking out a particularly kicky little riff. when i got tired, i took it to a slow bridge or gave her a solo. i was going to make this last as long as i could. meanwhile, i maneuvered my way between her and the hatch. when i blew the last note, i was wrung out as a washcloth, but i summoned the energy to zip over to the hatch and block it. she calmly untied and floated over to me. i looked in her eyes, silvered slanted cat-eyes, eyes that i'd been staring into all afternoon, and watched the smile that started at their corners and spread right down to her long, elegant toes. she looked back at me, then, at length, grabbed ahold of my joint again. "you'll do," she said, and led me to her sleeping quarters, across the station. we didn't sleep. # zoya had been an early network engineer for the geosynch broadband constellations that went up at the cusp of the world's ascent into bitchunry. she'd been exposed to a lot of hard rads and low gee and had generally become pretty transhuman as time went by, upgrading with a bewildering array of third-party enhancements: a vestigial tail, eyes that saw through most of the rf spectrum, her arms, her fur, dogleg reversible knee joints and a completely mechanical spine that wasn't prone to any of the absolutely inane bullshit that plagues the rest of us, like lower-back pain, intrascapular inflammation, sciatica and slipped discs. i thought i lived for fun, but i didn't have anything on zed. she only talked when honking and whistling and grabbing and kissing wouldn't do, and routinely slapped upgrades into herself on the basis of any whim that crossed her mind, like when she resolved to do a spacewalk bare- skinned and spent the afternoon getting tin-plated and iron-lunged. i fell in love with her a hundred times a day, and wanted to strangle her twice as often. she stayed on her spacewalk for a couple of days, floating around the bubble, making crazy faces at its mirrored exterior. she had no way of knowing if i was inside, but she assumed that i was watching. or maybe she didn't, and she was making faces for anyone's benefit. but then she came back through the lock, strange and wordless and her eyes full of the stars she'd seen and her metallic skin cool with the breath of empty space, and she led me a merry game of tag through the station, the mess hall where we skidded sloppy through a wobbly ovoid of rice pudding, the greenhouses where she burrowed like a gopher and shinnied like a monkey, the living quarters and bubbles as we interrupted a thousand acts of coitus. you'd have thought that we'd have followed it up with an act of our own, and truth be told, that was certainly my expectation when we started the game i came to think of as the steeplechase, but we never did. halfway through, i'd lose track of carnal urges and return to a state of childlike innocence, living only for the thrill of the chase and the giggly feeling i got whenever she found some new, even-more-outrageous corner to turn. i think we became legendary on the station, that crazy pair that's always zipping in and zipping away, like having your party crashed by two naked, coed marx brothers. when i asked her to marry me, to return to earth with me, to live with me until the universe's mainspring unwound, she laughed, honked my nose and my willie and shouted, "you'll _do_!" i took her home to toronto and we took up residence ten stories underground in overflow residence for the university. our whuffie wasn't so hot earthside, and the endless institutional corridors made her feel at home while affording her opportunities for mischief. but bit by bit, the mischief dwindled, and she started talking more. at first, i admit i was relieved, glad that my strange, silent wife was finally acting normal, making nice with the neighbors instead of pranking them with endless honks and fanny-kicks and squirt guns. we gave up the steeplechase and she had the doglegs taken out, her fur removed, her eyes unsilvered to a hazel that was pretty and as fathomable as the silver had been inscrutable. we wore clothes. we entertained. i started to rehearse my symphony in low-whuffie halls and parks with any musicians i could drum up, and she came out and didn't play, just sat to the side and smiled and smiled with a smile that never went beyond her lips. she went nuts. she shat herself. she pulled her hair. she cut herself with knives. she accused me of plotting to kill her. she set fire to the neighbors' apartments, wrapped herself in plastic sheeting, dry-humped the furniture. she went nuts. she did it in broad strokes, painting the walls of our bedroom with her blood, jagging all night through rant after rant. i smiled and nodded and faced it for as long as i could, then i grabbed her and hauled her, kicking like a mule, to the doctor's office on the second floor. she'd been dirtside for a year and nuts for a month, but it took me that long to face up to it. the doc diagnosed nonchemical dysfunction, which was by way of saying that it was her mind, not her brain, that was broken. in other words, i'd driven her nuts. you can get counseling for nonchemical dysfunction, basically trying to talk it out, learn to feel better about yourself. she didn't want to. she was miserable, suicidal, murderous. in the brief moments of lucidity that she had under sedation, she consented to being restored from a backup that was made before we came to toronto. i was at her side in the hospital when she woke up. i had prepared a written synopsis of the events since her last backup for her, and she read it over the next couple days. "julius," she said, while i was making breakfast in our subterranean apartment. she sounded so serious, so fun-free, that i knew immediately that the news wouldn't be good. "yes?" i said, setting out plates of bacon and eggs, steaming cups of coffee. "i'm going to go back to space, and revert to an older version." she had a shoulderbag packed, and she had traveling clothes on. _oh, shit._ "great," i said, with forced cheerfulness, making a mental inventory of my responsibilities dirtside. "give me a minute or two, i'll pack up. i miss space, too." she shook her head, and anger blazed in her utterly scrutable hazel eyes. "no. i'm going back to who i was, before i met you." it hurt, bad. i had loved the old, steeplechase zed, had loved her fun and mischief. the zed she'd become after we wed was terrible and terrifying, but i'd stuck with her out of respect for the person she'd been. now she was off to restore herself from a backup made before she met me. she was going to lop months out of her life, start over again, revert to a saved version. hurt? it ached like a motherfucker. i went back to the station a month later, and saw her jamming in the sphere with a guy who had three extra sets of arms depending from his hips. he scuttled around the sphere while she played a jig on the piano, and when her silver eyes lit on me, there wasn't a shred of recognition in them. she'd never met me. i died some, too, putting the incident out of my head and sojourning to disney world, there to reinvent myself with a new group of friends, a new career, a new life. i never spoke of zed again -- especially not to lil, who hardly needed me to pollute her with remembrances of my crazy exes. # if i was nuts, it wasn't the kind of spectacular nuts that zed had gone. it was a slow, seething, ugly nuts that had me alienating my friends, sabotaging my enemies, driving my girlfriend into my best friend's arms. i decided that i would see a doctor, just as soon as we'd run the rehab past the ad-hoc's general meeting. i had to get my priorities straight. i pulled on last night's clothes and walked out to the monorail station in the main lobby. the platform was jammed with happy guests, bright and cheerful and ready for a day of steady, hypermediated fun. i tried to make myself attend to them as individuals, but try as i might, they kept turning into a crowd, and i had to plant my feet firmly on the platform to keep from weaving among them to the edge, the better to snag a seat. the meeting was being held over the sunshine tree terrace in adventureland, just steps from where i'd been turned into a road-pizza by the still-unidentified assassin. the adventureland ad-hocs owed the liberty square crew a favor since my death had gone down on their turf, so they had given us use of their prize meeting room, where the florida sun streamed through the slats of the shutters, casting a hash of dust- filled shafts of light across the room. the faint sounds of the tiki- drums and the spieling jungle cruise guides leaked through the room, a low-key ambient buzz from two of the park's oldest rides. there were almost a hundred ad-hocs in the liberty square crew, almost all second-gen castmembers with big, friendly smiles. they filled the room to capacity, and there was much hugging and handshaking before the meeting came to order. i was thankful that the room was too small for the _de rigeur_ ad-hoc circle-of-chairs, so that lil was able to stand at a podium and command a smidge of respect. "hi there!" she said, brightly. the weepy puffiness was still present around her eyes, if you knew how to look for it, but she was expert at putting on a brave face no matter what the ache. the ad-hocs roared back a collective, "hi, lil!" and laughed at their own corny tradition. oh, they sure were a barrel of laughs at the magic kingdom. "everybody knows why we're here, right?" lil said, with a self- deprecating smile. she'd been lobbying hard for weeks, after all. "does anyone have any questions about the plans? we'd like to start executing right away." a guy with deliberately boyish, wholesome features put his arm in the air. lil acknowledged him with a nod. "when you say 'right away,' do you mean --" i cut in. "tonight. after this meeting. we're on an eight-week production schedule, and the sooner we start, the sooner it'll be finished." the crowd murmured, unsettled. lil shot me a withering look. i shrugged. politics was not my game. lil said, "don, we're trying something new here, a really streamlined process. the good part is, the process is _short_. in a couple months, we'll know if it's working for us. if it's not, hey, we can turn it around in a couple months, too. that's why we're not spending as much time planning as we usually do. it won't take five years for the idea to prove out, so the risks are lower." another castmember, a woman, apparent with a round, motherly demeanor said, "i'm all for moving fast -- lord knows, our pacing hasn't always been that hot. but i'm concerned about all these new people you propose to recruit -- won't having more people slow us down when it comes to making new decisions?" _no_, i thought sourly, _because the people i'm bringing in aren't addicted to meetings_. lil nodded. "that's a good point, lisa. the offer we're making to the telepresence players is probationary -- they don't get to vote until after we've agreed that the rehab is a success." another castmember stood. i recognized him: dave, a heavyset, self- important jerk who loved to work the front door, even though he blew his spiel about half the time. "lillian," he said, smiling sadly at her, "i think you're really making a big mistake here. we love the mansion, all of us, and so do the guests. it's a piece of history, and we're its custodians, not its masters. changing it like this, well. . ." he shook his head. "it's not good stewardship. if the guests wanted to walk through a funhouse with guys jumping out of the shadows saying 'booga- booga,' they'd go to one of the halloween houses in their hometowns. the mansion's better than that. i can't be a part of this plan." i wanted to knock the smug grin off his face. i'd delivered essentially the same polemic a thousand times -- in reference to debra's work -- and hearing it from this jerk in reference to _mine_ made me go all hot and red inside. "look," i said. "if we don't do this, if we don't change things, they'll get changed _for_ us. by someone else. the question, _dave_, is whether a responsible custodian lets his custodianship be taken away from him, or whether he does everything he can to make sure that he's still around to ensure that his charge is properly cared for. good custodianship isn't sticking your head in the sand." i could tell i wasn't doing any good. the mood of the crowd was getting darker, the faces more set. i resolved not to speak again until the meeting was done, no matter what the provocation. lil smoothed my remarks over, and fielded a dozen more, and it looked like the objections would continue all afternoon and all night and all the next day, and i felt woozy and overwrought and miserable all at the same time, staring at lil and her harried smile and her nervous smoothing of her hair over her ears. finally, she called the question. by tradition, the votes were collected in secret and publicly tabulated over the data-channels. the group's eyes unfocussed as they called up huds and watched the totals as they rolled in. i was offline and unable to vote or watch. at length, lil heaved a relieved sigh and smiled, dropping her hands behind her back. "all right then," she said, over the crowd's buzz. "let's get to work." i stood up, saw dan and lil staring into each other's eyes, a meaningful glance between new lovers, and i saw red. literally. my vision washed over pink, and a strobe pounded at the edges of my vision. i took two lumbering steps towards them and opened my mouth to say something horrible, and what came out was "waaagh." my right side went numb and my leg slipped out from under me and i crashed to the floor. the slatted light from the shutters cast its way across my chest as i tried to struggle up with my left arm, and then it all went black. # i wasn't nuts after all. the doctor's office in the main street infirmary was clean and white and decorated with posters of jiminy cricket in doctors' whites with an outsized stethoscope. i came to on a hard pallet under a sign that reminded me to get a check-up twice a year, by gum! and i tried to bring my hands up to shield my eyes from the over bright light and the over- cheerful signage, and discovered that i couldn't move my arms. further investigation revealed that this was because i was strapped down, in full-on four-point restraint. "waaagh," i said again. dan's worried face swam into my field of vision, along with a serious- looking doctor, apparent , with a norman rockwell face full of crow'sfeet and smile-lines. "welcome back, julius. i'm doctor pete," the doctor said, in a kindly voice that matched the face. despite my recent disillusion with castmember bullshit, i found his schtick comforting. i slumped back against the palette while the doc shone lights in my eyes and consulted various diagnostic apparati. i bore it in stoic silence, too confounded by the horrible waaagh sounds to attempt more speech. the doc would tell me what was going on when he was ready. "does he need to be tied up still?" dan asked, and i shook my head urgently. being tied up wasn't my idea of a good time. the doc smiled kindly. "i think it's for the best, for now. don't worry, julius, we'll have you up and about soon enough." dan protested, but stopped when the doc threatened to send him out of the room. he took my hand instead. my nose itched. i tried to ignore it, but it got worse and worse, until it was all i could think of, the flaming lance of itch that strobed at the tip of my nostril. furiously, i wrinkled my face, rattled at my restraints. the doc absentmindedly noticed my gyrations and delicately scratched my nose with a gloved finger. the relief was fantastic. i just hoped my nuts didn't start itching anytime soon. finally, the doctor pulled up a chair and did something that caused the head of the bed to raise up so that i could look him in the eye. "well, now," he said, stroking his chin. "julius, you've got a problem. your friend here tells me your systems have been offline for more than a month. it sure would've been better if you'd come in to see me when it started up. "but you didn't, and things got worse." he nodded up at jiminy cricket's recriminations: go ahead, see your doc! "it's good advice, son, but what's done is done. you were restored from a backup about eight weeks ago, i see. without more tests, i can't be sure, but my theory is that the brain-machine interface they installed at that time had a material defect. it's been deteriorating ever since, misfiring and rebooting. the shut-downs are a protective mechanism, meant to keep it from introducing the kind of seizure you experienced this afternoon. when the interface senses malfunction, it shuts itself down and boots a diagnostic mode, attempts to fix itself and come back online. "well, that's fine for minor problems, but in cases like this, it's bad news. the interface has been deteriorating steadily, and it's only a matter of time before it does some serious damage." "waaagh?" i asked. i meant to say, _all right, but what's wrong with my mouth?_ the doc put a finger to my lips. "don't try. the interface has locked up, and it's taken some of your voluntary nervous processes with it. in time, it'll probably shut down, but for now, there's no point. that's why we've got you strapped down -- you were thrashing pretty hard when they brought you in, and we didn't want you to hurt yourself." _probably shut down_? jesus. i could end up stuck like this forever. i started shaking. the doc soothed me, stroking my hand, and in the process pressed a transdermal on my wrist. the panic receded as the transdermal's sedative oozed into my bloodstream. "there, there," he said. "it's nothing permanent. we can grow you a new clone and refresh it from your last backup. unfortunately, that backup is a few months old. if we'd caught it earlier, we may've been able to salvage a current backup, but given the deterioration you've displayed to date. . . well, there just wouldn't be any point." my heart hammered. i was going to lose two months -- lose it all, never happened. my assassination, the new hall of presidents and my shameful attempt thereon, the fights with lil, lil and dan, the meeting. my plans for the rehab! all of it, good and bad, every moment flensed away. i couldn't do it. i had a rehab to finish, and i was the only one who understood how it had to be done. without my relentless prodding, the ad-hocs would surely revert to their old, safe ways. they might even leave it half-done, halt the process for an interminable review, present a soft belly for debra to savage. i wouldn't be restoring from backup. # i had two more seizures before the interface finally gave up and shut itself down. i remember the first, a confusion of vision-occluding strobes and uncontrollable thrashing and the taste of copper, but the second happened without waking me from deep unconsciousness. when i came to again in the infirmary, dan was still there. he had a day's growth of beard and new worrylines at the corners of his newly rejuvenated eyes. the doctor came in, shaking his head. "well, now, it seems like the worst is over. i've drawn up the consent forms for the refresh and the new clone will be ready in an hour or two. in the meantime, i think heavy sedation is in order. once the restore's been completed, we'll retire this body for you and we'll be all finished up." retire this body? kill me, is what it meant. "no," i said. i thrilled in my restraints: my voice was back under my control! "oh, really now." the doc lost his bedside manner, let his exasperation slip through. "there's nothing else for it. if you'd come to me when it all started, well, we might've had other options. you've got no one to blame but yourself." "no," i repeated. "not now. i won't sign." dan put his hand on mine. i tried to jerk out from under it, but the restraints and his grip held me fast. "you've got to do it, julius. it's for the best," he said. "i'm not going to let you kill me," i said, through clenched teeth. his fingertips were callused, worked rough with exertion well beyond the normal call of duty. "no one's killing you, son," the doctor said. son, son, son. who knew how old he was? he could be for all i knew. "it's just the opposite: we're saving you. if you continue like this, it will only get worse. the seizures, mental breakdown, the whole melon going soft. you don't want that." i thought of zed's spectacular transformation into a crazy person. _no, i sure don't_. "i don't care about the interface. chop it out. i can't do it now." i swallowed. "later. after the rehab. eight more weeks." # the irony! once the doc knew i was serious, he sent dan out of the room and rolled his eyes up while he placed a call. i saw his gorge work as he subvocalized. he left me bound to the table, to wait. no clocks in the infirmary, and no internal clock, and it may have been ten minutes or five hours. i was catheterized, but i didn't know it until urgent necessity made the discovery for me. when the doc came back, he held a small device that i instantly recognized: a herf gun. oh, it wasn't the same model i'd used on the hall of presidents. this one was smaller, and better made, with the precise engineering of a surgical tool. the doc raised his eyebrows at me. "you know what this is," he said, flatly. a dim corner of my mind gibbered, _he knows, he knows, the hall of presidents_. but he didn't know. that episode was locked in my mind, invulnerable to backup. "i know," i said. "this one is high-powered in the extreme. it will penetrate the interface's shielding and fuse it. it probably won't turn you into a vegetable. that's the best i can do. if this fails, we will restore you from your last backup. you have to sign the consent before i use it." he'd dropped all kindly pretense from his voice, not bothering to disguise his disgust. i was pitching out the miracle of the bitchun society, the thing that had all but obsoleted the medical profession: why bother with surgery when you can grow a clone, take a backup, and refresh the new body? some people swapped corpuses just to get rid of a cold. i signed. the doc wheeled my gurney into the crash and hum of the utilidors and then put it on a freight tram that ran to the imagineering compound, and thence to a heavy, exposed faraday cage. of course: using the herf on me would kill any electronics in the neighborhood. they had to shield me before they pulled the trigger. the doc placed the gun on my chest and loosened my restraints. he sealed the cage and retreated to the lab's door. he pulled a heavy apron and helmet with faceguard from a hook beside the door. "once i am outside the door, point it at your head and pull the trigger. i'll come back in five minutes. once i am in the room, place the gun on the floor and do not touch it. it is only good for a single usage, but i have no desire to find out i'm wrong." he closed the door. i took the pistol in my hand. it was heavy, dense with its stored energy, the tip a parabolic hollow to better focus its cone. i lifted the gun to my temple and let it rest there. my thumb found the trigger-stud. i paused. this wouldn't kill me, but it might lock the interface forever, paralyzing me, turning me into a thrashing maniac. i knew that i would never be able to pull the trigger. the doc must've known, too -- this was his way of convincing me to let him do that restore. i opened my mouth to call the doc, and what came out was "waaagh!" the seizure started. my arm jerked and my thumb nailed the stud, and there was an ozone tang. the seizure stopped. i had no more interface. # the doc looked sour and pinched when he saw me sitting up on the gurney, rubbing at my biceps. he produced a handheld diagnostic tool and pointed it at my melon, then pronounced every bit of digital microcircuitry in it dead. for the first time since my twenties, i was no more advanced than nature had made me. the restraints left purple bruises at my wrists and ankles, where i'd thrashed against them. i hobbled out of the faraday cage and the lab under my own power, but just barely, my muscles groaning from the inadvertent isometric exercises of my seizure. dan was waiting in the utilidor, crouched and dozing against the wall. the doc shook him awake and his head snapped up, his hand catching the doc's in a lightning-quick reflex. it was easy to forget dan's old line of work here in the magic kingdom, but when he smoothly snagged the doc's arm and sprang to his feet, eyes hard and alert, i remembered. my old pal, the action hero. quickly, dan released the doc and apologized. he assessed my physical state and wordlessly wedged his shoulder in my armpit, supporting me. i didn't have the strength to stop him. i needed sleep. "i'm taking you home," he said. "we'll fight debra off tomorrow." "sure," i said, and boarded the waiting tram. but we didn't go home. dan took me back to my hotel, the contemporary, and brought me up to my door. he keycarded the lock and stood awkwardly as i hobbled into the empty room that was my new home, as i collapsed into the bed that was mine now. with an apologetic look, he slunk away, back to lil and the house we'd shared. i slapped on a sedative transdermal that the doc had given me, and added a mood-equalizer that he'd recommended to control my "personality swings." in seconds, i was asleep. ========= chapter ========= the meds helped me cope with the next couple of days, starting the rehab on the mansion. we worked all night erecting a scaffolding around the facade, though no real work would be done on it -- we wanted the appearance of rapid progress, and besides, i had an idea. i worked alongside dan, using him as a personal secretary, handling my calls, looking up plans, monitoring the net for the first grumblings as the disney-going public realized that the mansion was being taken down for a full-blown rehab. we didn't exchange any unnecessary words, standing side by side without ever looking into one another's eyes. i couldn't really feel awkward around dan, anyway. he never let me, and besides we had our hands full directing disappointed guests away from the mansion. a depressing number of them headed straight for the hall of presidents. we didn't have to wait long for the first panicked screed about the mansion to appear. dan read it aloud off his hud: "hey! anyone hear anything about scheduled maintenance at the hm? i just buzzed by on the way to the new h of p's and it looks like some big stuff's afoot -- scaffolding, castmembers swarming in and out, see the pic. i hope they're not screwing up a good thing. btw, don't miss the new h of p's -- very bitchun." "right," i said. "who's the author, and is he on the list?" dan cogitated a moment. "_she_ is kim wright, and she's on the list. good whuffie, lots of mansion fanac, big readership." "call her," i said. this was the plan: recruit rabid fans right away, get 'em in costume, and put 'em up on the scaffolds. give them outsized, bat-adorned tools and get them to play at construction activity in thumpy, undead pantomime. in time, suneep and his gang would have a batch of telepresence robots up and running, and we'd move to them, get them wandering the queue area, interacting with curious guests. the new mansion would be open for business in hours, albeit in stripped-down fashion. the scaffolding made for a nice weenie, a visual draw that would pull the hordes that thronged debra's hall of presidents over for a curious peek or two. buzz city. i'm a pretty smart guy. # dan paged this kim person and spoke to her as she was debarking the pirates of the caribbean. i wondered if she was the right person for the job: she seemed awfully enamored of the rehabs that debra and her crew had performed. if i'd had more time, i would've run a deep background check on every one of the names on my list, but that would've taken months. dan made some small talk with kim, speaking aloud in deference to my handicap, before coming to the point. "we read your post about the mansion's rehab. you're the first one to notice it, and we wondered if you'd be interested in coming by to find out a little more about our plans." dan winced. "she's a screamer," he whispered. reflexively, i tried to pull up a hud with my files on the mansion fans we hoped to recruit. of course, nothing happened. i'd done that a dozen times that morning, and there was no end in sight. i couldn't seem to get lathered up about it, though, nor about anything else, not even the hickey just visible under dan's collar. the transdermal mood-balancer on my bicep was seeing to that -- doctor's orders. "fine, fine. we're standing by the pet cemetery, two cast members, male, in mansion costumes. about five-ten, apparent . you can't miss us." she didn't. she arrived out of breath and excited, jogging. she was apparent , and dressed like a real year old, in a hipster climate- control cowl that clung to and released her limbs, which were long and double-kneed. all the rage among the younger set, including the girl who'd shot me. but the resemblance to my killer ended with her dress and body. she wasn't wearing a designer face, rather one that had enough imperfections to be the one she was born with, eyes set close and nose wide and slightly squashed. i admired the way she moved through the crowd, fast and low but without jostling anyone. "kim," i called as she drew near. "over here." she gave a happy shriek and made a beeline for us. even charging full- bore, she was good enough at navigating the crowd that she didn't brush against a single soul. when she reached us, she came up short and bounced a little. "hi, i'm kim!" she said, pumping my arm with the peculiar violence of the extra-jointed. "julius," i said, then waited while she repeated the process with dan. "so," she said, "what's the deal?" i took her hand. "kim, we've got a job for you, if you're interested." she squeezed my hand hard and her eyes shone. "i'll take it!" she said. i laughed, and so did dan. it was a polite, castmembery sort of laugh, but underneath it was relief. "i think i'd better explain it to you first," i said. "explain away!" she said, and gave my hand another squeeze. i let go of her hand and ran down an abbreviated version of the rehab plans, leaving out anything about debra and her ad-hocs. kim drank it all in greedily. she cocked her head at me as i ran it down, eyes wide. it was disconcerting, and i finally asked, "are you recording this?" kim blushed. "i hope that's okay! i'm starting a new mansion scrapbook. i have one for every ride in the park, but this one's gonna be a world- beater!" here was something i hadn't thought about. publishing ad-hoc business was tabu inside park, so much so that it hadn't occurred to me that the new castmembers we brought in would want to record every little detail and push it out over the net as a big old whuffie collector. "i can switch it off," kim said. she looked worried, and i really started to grasp how important the mansion was to the people we were recruiting, how much of a privilege we were offering them. "leave it rolling," i said. "let's show the world how it's done." we led kim into a utilidor and down to costuming. she was half-naked by the time we got there, literally tearing off her clothes in anticipation of getting into character. sonya, a liberty square ad-hoc that we'd stashed at costuming, already had clothes waiting for her, a rotting maid's uniform with an oversized toolbelt. we left kim on the scaffolding, energetically troweling a water-based cement substitute onto the wall, scraping it off and moving to a new spot. it looked boring to me, but i could believe that we'd have to tear her away when the time came. we went back to trawling the net for the next candidate. # by lunchtime, there were ten drilling, hammering, troweling new castmembers around the scaffolding, pushing black wheelbarrows, singing "grim grinning ghosts" and generally having a high old time. "this'll do," i said to dan. i was exhausted and soaked with sweat, and the transdermal under my costume itched. despite the happy-juice in my bloodstream, a streak of uncastmemberly crankiness was shot through my mood. i needed to get offstage. dan helped me hobble away, and as we hit the utilidor, he whispered in my ear, "this was a great idea, julius. really." we jumped a tram over to imagineering, my chest swollen with pride. suneep had three of his assistants working on the first generation of mobile telepresence robots for the exterior, and had promised a prototype for that afternoon. the robots were easy enough -- just off- the-shelf stuff, really -- but the costumes and kinematics routines were something else. thinking about what he and suneep's gang of hypercreative super-geniuses would come up with cheered me up a little, as did being out of the public eye. suneep's lab looked like it had been hit by a tornado. imagineer packs rolled in and out with arcane gizmos, or formed tight argumentative knots in the corners as they shouted over whatever their huds were displaying. in the middle of it all was suneep, who looked like he was barely restraining an urge to shout yippee! he was clearly in his element. he threw his arms open when he caught sight of dan and me, threw them wide enough to embrace the whole mad, gibbering chaos. "what wonderful flumgubbery!" he shouted, over the noise. "sure is," i agreed. "how's the prototype coming?" suneep waved absently, his short fingers describing trivialities in the air. "in due time, in due time. i've put that team onto something else, a kinematics routine for a class of flying spooks that use gasbags to stay aloft -- silent and scary. it's old spy-tech, and the retrofit's coming tremendously. take a look!" he pointed a finger at me and, presumably, squirted some data my way. "i'm offline," i reminded him gently. he slapped his forehead, took a moment to push his hair off his face, and gave me an apologetic wave. "of course, of course. here." he unrolled an lcd and handed it to me. a flock of spooks danced on the screen, rendered against the ballroom scene. they were thematically consistent with the existing mansion ghosts, more funny than scary, and their faces were familiar. i looked around the lab and realized that they'd caricatured various imagineers. "ah! you noticed," suneep said, rubbing his hands together. "a very good joke, yes?" "this is terrific," i said, carefully. "but i really need some robots up and running by tomorrow night, suneep. we discussed this, remember?" without telepresence robots, my recruiting would be limited to fans like kim, who lived in the area. i had broader designs than that. suneep looked disappointed. "of course. we discussed it. i don't like to stop my people when they have good ideas, but there's a time and a place. i'll put them on it right away. leave it to me." dan turned to greet someone, and i looked to see who it was. lil. of course. she was raccoon-eyed with fatigue, and she reached out for dan's hand, saw me, and changed her mind. "hi, guys," she said, with studied casualness. "oh, hello!" said suneep. he fired his finger at her -- the flying ghosts, i imagined. lil's eyes rolled up for a moment, then she nodded exhaustedly at him. "very good," she said. "i just heard from lisa. she says the indoor crews are on-schedule. they've got most of the animatronics dismantled, and they're taking down the glass in the ballroom now." the ballroom ghost effects were accomplished by means of a giant pane of polished glass that laterally bisected the room. the mansion had been built around it -- it was too big to take out in one piece. "they say it'll be a couple days before they've got it cut up and ready to remove." a pocket of uncomfortable silence descended on us, the roar of the imagineers rushing in to fill it. "you must be exhausted," dan said, at length. "goddamn right," i said, at the same moment that lil said, "i guess i am." we both smiled wanly. suneep put his arms around lil's and my shoulders and squeezed. he smelled of an exotic cocktail of industrial lubricant, ozone, and fatigue poisons. "you two should go home and give each other a massage," he said. "you've earned some rest." dan met my eye and shook his head apologetically. i squirmed out from under suneep's arm and thanked him quietly, then slunk off to the contemporary for a hot tub and a couple hours of sleep. # i came back to the mansion at sundown. it was cool enough that i took a surface route, costume rolled in a shoulderbag, instead of riding through the clattering, air-conditioned comfort of the utilidors. as a freshening breeze blew across me, i suddenly had a craving for _real_ weather, the kind of climate i'd grown up with in toronto. it was october, for chrissakes, and a lifetime of conditioning told me that it was may. i stopped and leaned on a bench for a moment and closed my eyes. unbidden, and with the clarity of a hud, i saw high park in toronto, clothed in its autumn colors, fiery reds and oranges, shades of evergreen and earthy brown. god, i needed a vacation. i opened my eyes and realized that i was standing in front of the hall of presidents, and that there was a queue ahead of me for it, one that stretched back and back. i did a quick sum in my head and sucked air between my teeth: they had enough people for five or six full houses waiting here -- easily an hour's wait. the hall _never_ drew crowds like this. debra was working the turnstiles in betsy ross gingham, and she caught my eye and snapped a nod at me. i stalked off to the mansion. a choir of zombie-shambling new recruits had formed up in front of the gate, and were groaning their way through "grim grinning ghosts," with a new call-and-response structure. a small audience participated, urged on by the recruits on the scaffolding. "well, at least that's going right," i muttered to myself. and it was, except that i could see members of the ad-hoc looking on from the sidelines, and the looks weren't kindly. totally obsessive fans are a good measure of a ride's popularity, but they're kind of a pain in the ass, too. they lipsynch the soundtrack, cadge souvenirs and pester you with smarmy, show-off questions. after a while, even the cheeriest castmember starts to lose patience, develop an automatic distaste for them. the liberty square ad-hocs who were working on the mansion had been railroaded into approving a rehab, press-ganged into working on it, and were now forced to endure the company of these grandstanding megafans. if i'd been there when it all started -- instead of sleeping! -- i may've been able to massage their bruised egos, but now i wondered if it was too late. nothing for it but to do it. i ducked into a utilidor, changed into my costume and went back onstage. i joined the call-and-response enthusiastically, walking around to the ad-hocs and getting them to join in, reluctantly or otherwise. by the time the choir retired, sweaty and exhausted, a group of ad-hocs were ready to take their place, and i escorted my recruits to an offstage break-room. # suneep didn't deliver the robot prototypes for a week, and told me that it would be another week before i could have even five production units. though he didn't say it, i got the sense that his guys were out of control, so excited by the freedom from ad-hoc oversight that they were running wild. suneep himself was nearly a wreck, nervous and jumpy. i didn't press it. besides, i had problems of my own. the new recruits were multiplying. i was staying on top of the fan response to the rehab from a terminal i'd had installed in my hotel room. kim and her local colleagues were fielding millions of hits every day, their whuffie accumulating as envious fans around the world logged in to watch their progress on the scaffolding. that was all according to plan. what wasn't according to plan was that the new recruits were doing their own recruiting, extending invitations to their net-pals to come on down to florida, bunk on their sofas and guest-beds, and present themselves to me for active duty. the tenth time it happened, i approached kim in the break-room. her gorge was working, her eyes tracked invisible words across the middle distance. no doubt she was penning yet another breathless missive about the magic of working in the mansion. "hey, there," i said. "have you got a minute to meet with me?" she held up a single finger, then, a moment later, gave me a bright smile. "hi, julius!" she said. "sure!" "why don't you change into civvies, we'll take a walk through the park and talk?" kim wore her costume every chance she got. i'd been quite firm about her turning it in to the laundry every night instead of wearing it home. reluctantly, she stepped into a change-room and switched into her cowl. we took the utilidor to the fantasyland exit and walked through the late-afternoon rush of children and their adults, queued deep and thick for snow white, dumbo and peter pan. "how're you liking it here?" i asked. kim gave a little bounce. "oh, julius, it's the best time of my life, really! a dream come true. i'm meeting so many interesting people, and i'm really feeling creative. i can't wait to try out the telepresence rigs, too." "well, i'm really pleased with what you and your friends are up to here. you're working hard, putting on a good show. i like the songs you've been working up, too." she did one of those double-kneed shuffles that was the basis of any number of action vids those days and she was suddenly standing in front of me, hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes. she looked serious. "is there a problem, julius? if there is, i'd rather we just talked about it, instead of making chitchat." i smiled and took her hand off my shoulder. "how old are you, kim?" "nineteen," she said. "what's the problem?" nineteen! jesus, no wonder she was so volatile. _what's my excuse, then?_ "it's not a problem, kim, it's just something i wanted to discuss with you. the people you-all have been bringing down to work for me, they're all really great castmembers." "but?" "but we have limited resources around here. not enough hours in the day for me to stay on top of the new folks, the rehab, everything. not to mention that until we open the new mansion, there's a limited number of extras we can use out front. i'm concerned that we're going to put someone on stage without proper training, or that we're going to run out of uniforms; i'm also concerned about people coming all the way here and discovering that there aren't any shifts for them to take." she gave me a relieved look. "is _that_ all? don't worry about it. i've been talking to debra, over at the hall of presidents, and she says she can pick up any people who can't be used at the mansion -- we could even rotate back and forth!" she was clearly proud of her foresight. my ears buzzed. debra, one step ahead of me all along the way. she probably suggested that kim do some extra recruiting in the first place. she'd take in the people who came down to work the mansion, convince them they'd been hard done by the liberty square crew, and rope them into her little whuffie ranch, the better to seize the mansion, the park, the whole of walt disney world. "oh, i don't think it'll come to that," i said, carefully. "i'm sure we can find a use for them all at the mansion. more the merrier." kim cocked quizzical, but let it go. i bit my tongue. the pain brought me back to reality, and i started planning costume production, training rosters, bunking. god, if only suneep would finish the robots! # "what do you mean, 'no'?" i said, hotly. lil folded her arms and glared. "no, julius. it won't fly. the group is already upset that all the glory is going to the new people, they'll never let us bring more in. they also won't stop working on the rehab to train them, costume them, feed them and mother them. they're losing whuffie every day that the mansion's shut up, and they don't want any more delays. dave's already joined up with debra, and i'm sure he's not the last one." dave -- the jerk who'd pissed all over the rehab in the meeting. of course he'd gone over. lil and dan stood side by side on the porch of the house where i'd lived. i'd driven out that night to convince lil to sell the ad-hocs on bringing in more recruits, but it wasn't going according to plan. they wouldn't even let me in the house. "so what do i tell kim?" "tell her whatever you want," lil said. "you brought her in -- you manage her. take some goddamn responsibility for once in your life." it wasn't going to get any better. dan gave me an apologetic look. lil glared a moment longer, then went into the house. "debra's doing real well," he said. "the net's all over her. biggest thing ever. flash-baking is taking off in nightclubs, dance mixes with the dj's backup being shoved in bursts into the dancers." "god," i said. "i fucked up, dan. i fucked it all up." he didn't say anything, and that was the same as agreeing. driving back to the hotel, i decided i needed to talk to kim. she was a problem i didn't need, and maybe a problem i could solve. i pulled a screeching u-turn and drove the little runabout to her place, a tiny condo in a crumbling complex that had once been a gated seniors' village, pre-bitchun. her place was easy to spot. all the lights were burning, faint conversation audible through the screen door. i jogged up the steps two at a time, and was about to knock when a familiar voice drifted through the screen. debra, saying: "oh yes, oh yes! terrific idea! i'd never really thought about using streetmosphere players to liven up the queue area, but you're making a lot of sense. you people have just been doing the _best_ work over at the mansion -- find me more like you and i'll take them for the hall any day!" i heard kim and her young friends chatting excitedly, proudly. the anger and fear suffused me from tip to toe, and i felt suddenly light and cool and ready to do something terrible. i padded silently down the steps and got into my runabout. # some people never learn. i'm one of them, apparently. i almost chortled over the foolproof simplicity of my plan as i slipped in through the cast entrance using the id card i'd scored when my systems went offline and i was no longer able to squirt my authorization at the door. i changed clothes in a bathroom on main street, switching into a black cowl that completely obscured my features, then slunk through the shadows along the storefronts until i came to the moat around cinderella's castle. keeping low, i stepped over the fence and duck- walked down the embankment, then slipped into the water and sloshed across to the adventureland side. slipping along to the liberty square gateway, i flattened myself in doorways whenever i heard maintenance crews passing in the distance, until i reached the hall of presidents, and in a twinkling i was inside the theater itself. humming the small world theme, i produced a short wrecking bar from my cowl's tabbed pocket and set to work. the primary broadcast units were hidden behind a painted scrim over the stage, and they were surprisingly well built for a first generation tech. i really worked up a sweat smashing them, but i kept at it until not a single component remained recognizable. the work was slow and loud in the silent park, but it lulled me into a sleepy reverie, an autohypnotic swing-bang-swing-bang timeless time. to be on the safe side, i grabbed the storage units and slipped them into the cowl. locating their backup units was a little trickier, but years of hanging out at the hall of presidents while lil tinkered with the animatronics helped me. i methodically investigated every nook, cranny and storage area until i located them, in what had been a break-room closet. by now, i had the rhythm of the thing, and i made short work of them. i did one more pass, wrecking anything that looked like it might be a prototype for the next generation or notes that would help them reconstruct the units i'd smashed. i had no illusions about debra's preparedness -- she'd have something offsite that she could get up and running in a few days. i wasn't doing anything permanent, i was just buying myself a day or two. i made my way clean out of the park without being spotted, and sloshed my way into my runabout, shoes leaking water from the moat. for the first time in weeks, i slept like a baby. # of course, i got caught. i don't really have the temperament for machiavellian shenanigans, and i left a trail a mile wide, from the muddy footprints in the contemporary's lobby to the wrecking bar thoughtlessly left behind, with my cowl and the storage units from the hall, forgotten on the back seat of my runabout. i whistled my personal jazzy uptempo version of "grim grinning ghosts" as i made my way from costuming, through the utilidor, out to liberty square, half an hour before the park opened. standing in front of me were lil and debra. debra was holding my cowl and wrecking bar. lil held the storage units. i hadn't put on my transdermals that morning, and so the emotion i felt was unmuffled, loud and yammering. i ran. i ran past them, along the road to adventureland, past the tiki room where i'd been killed, past the adventureland gate where i'd waded through the moat, down main street. i ran and ran, elbowing early guests, trampling flowers, knocking over an apple cart across from the penny arcade. i ran until i reached the main gate, and turned, thinking i'd outrun lil and debra and all my problems. i'd thought wrong. they were both there, a step behind me, puffing and red. debra held my wrecking bar like a weapon, and she brandished it at me. "you're a goddamn idiot, you know that?" she said. i think if we'd been alone, she would've swung it at me. "can't take it when someone else plays rough, huh, debra?" i sneered. lil shook her head disgustedly. "she's right, you are an idiot. the ad-hoc's meeting in adventureland. you're coming." "why?" i asked, feeling belligerent. "you going to honor me for all my hard work?" "we're going to talk about the future, julius, what's left of it for us." "for god's sake, lil, can't you see what's going on? they _killed_ me! they did it, and now we're fighting each other instead of her! why can't you see how _wrong_ that is?" "you'd better watch those accusations, julius," debra said, quietly and intensely, almost hissing. "i don't know who killed you or why, but you're the one who's guilty here. you need help." i barked a humorless laugh. guests were starting to stream into the now-open park, and several of them were watching intently as the three costumed castmembers shouted at each other. i could feel my whuffie hemorrhaging. "debra, you are purely full of shit, and your work is trite and unimaginative. you're a fucking despoiler and you don't even have the guts to admit it." "that's _enough_, julius," lil said, her face hard, her rage barely in check. "we're going." debra walked a pace behind me, lil a pace before, all the way through the crowd to adventureland. i saw a dozen opportunities to slip into a gap in the human ebb and flow and escape custody, but i didn't try. i wanted a chance to tell the whole world what i'd done and why i'd done it. debra followed us in when we mounted the steps to the meeting room. lil turned. "i don't think you should be here, debra," she said in measured tones. debra shook her head. "you can't keep me out, you know. and you shouldn't want to. we're on the same side." i snorted derisively, and i think it decided lil. "come on, then," she said. it was sro in the meeting room, packed to the gills with the entire ad-hoc, except for my new recruits. no work was being done on the rehab, then, and the liberty belle would be sitting at her dock. even the restaurant crews were there. liberty square must've been a ghost town. it gave the meeting a sense of urgency: the knowledge that there were guests in liberty square wandering aimlessly, looking for castmembers to help them out. of course, debra's crew might've been around. the crowd's faces were hard and bitter, leaving no doubt in my mind that i was in deep shit. even dan, sitting in the front row, looked angry. i nearly started crying right then. dan -- oh, dan. my pal, my confidant, my patsy, my rival, my nemesis. dan, dan, dan. i wanted to beat him to death and hug him at the same time. lil took the podium and tucked stray hairs behind her ears. "all right, then," she said. i stood to her left and debra stood to her right. "thanks for coming out today. i'd like to get this done quickly. we all have important work to get to. i'll run down the facts: last night, a member of this ad-hoc vandalized the hall of presidents, rendering it useless. it's estimated that it will take at least a week to get it back up and running. "i don't have to tell you that this isn't acceptable. this has never happened before, and it will never happen again. we're going to see to that. "i'd like to propose that no further work be done on the mansion until the hall of presidents is fully operational. i will be volunteering my services on the repairs." there were nods in the audience. lil wouldn't be the only one working at the hall that week. "disney world isn't a competition," lil said. "all the different ad-hocs work together, and we do it to make the park as good as we can. we lose sight of that at our peril." i nearly gagged on bile. "i'd like to say something," i said, as calmly as i could manage. lil shot me a look. "that's fine, julius. any member of the ad-hoc can speak." i took a deep breath. "i did it, all right?" i said. my voice cracked. "i did it, and i don't have any excuse for having done it. it may not have been the smartest thing i've ever done, but i think you all should understand how i was driven to it. "we're not _supposed_ to be in competition with one another here, but we all know that that's just a polite fiction. the truth is that there's real competition in the park, and that the hardest players are the crew that rehabbed the hall of presidents. they _stole_ the hall from you! they did it while you were distracted, they used _me_ to engineer the distraction, they _murdered_ me!" i heard the shriek creeping into my voice, but i couldn't do anything about it. "usually, the lie that we're all on the same side is fine. it lets us work together in peace. but that changed the day they had me shot. if you keep on believing it, you're going to lose the mansion, the liberty belle, tom sawyer island -- all of it. all the history we have with this place -- all the history that the billions who've visited it have -- it's going to be destroyed and replaced with the sterile, thoughtless shit that's taken over the hall. once that happens, there's nothing left that makes this place special. anyone can get the same experience sitting at home on the sofa! what happens then, huh? how much longer do you think this place will stay open once the only people here are _you?_" debra smiled condescendingly. "are you finished, then?" she asked, sweetly. "fine. i know i'm not a member of this group, but since it was my work that was destroyed last night, i think i would like to address julius's statements, if you don't mind." she paused, but no one spoke up. "first of all, i want you all to know that we don't hold you responsible for what happened last night. we know who was responsible, and he needs help. i urge you to see to it that he gets it. "next, i'd like to say that as far as i'm concerned, we are on the same side -- the side of the park. this is a special place, and it couldn't exist without all of our contributions. what happened to julius was terrible, and i sincerely hope that the person responsible is caught and brought to justice. but that person wasn't me or any of the people in my ad-hoc. "lil, i'd like to thank you for your generous offer of assistance, and we'll take you up on it. that goes for all of you -- come on by the hall, we'll put you to work. we'll be up and running in no time. "now, as far as the mansion goes, let me say this once and for all: neither me nor my ad-hoc have any desire to take over the operations of the mansion. it is a terrific attraction, and it's getting better with the work you're all doing. if you've been worrying about it, then you can stop worrying now. we're all on the same side. "thanks for hearing me out. i've got to go see my team now." she turned and left, a chorus of applause following her out. lil waited until it died down, then said, "all right, then, we've got work to do, too. i'd like to ask you all a favor, first. i'd like us to keep the details of last night's incident to ourselves. letting the guests and the world know about this ugly business isn't good for anyone. can we all agree to do that?" there was a moment's pause while the results were tabulated on the huds, then lil gave them a million-dollar smile. "i knew you'd come through. thanks, guys. let's get to work." # i spent the day at the hotel, listlessly scrolling around on my terminal. lil had made it very clear to me after the meeting that i wasn't to show my face inside the park until i'd "gotten help," whatever that meant. by noon, the news was out. it was hard to pin down the exact source, but it seemed to revolve around the new recruits. one of them had told their net-pals about the high drama in liberty square, and mentioned my name. there were already a couple of sites vilifying me, and i expected more. i needed some kind of help, that was for sure. i thought about leaving then, turning my back on the whole business and leaving walt disney world to start yet another new life, whuffie-poor and fancy-free. it wouldn't be so bad. i'd been in poor repute before, not so long ago. that first time dan and i had palled around, back at the u of t, i'd been the center of a lot of pretty ambivalent sentiment, and whuffie- poor as a man can be. i slept in a little coffin on-campus, perfectly climate controlled. it was cramped and dull, but my access to the network was free and i had plenty of material to entertain myself. while i couldn't get a table in a restaurant, i was free to queue up at any of the makers around town and get myself whatever i wanted to eat and drink, whenever i wanted it. compared to . percent of all the people who'd ever lived, i had a life of unparalleled luxury. even by the standards of the bitchun society, i was hardly a rarity. the number of low-esteem individuals at large was significant, and they got along just fine, hanging out in parks, arguing, reading, staging plays, playing music. of course, that wasn't the life for me. i had dan to pal around with, a rare high-net-whuffie individual who was willing to fraternize with a shmuck like me. he'd stand me to meals at sidewalk cafes and concerts at the skydome, and shoot down any snotty reputation-punk who sneered at my whuffie tally. being with dan was a process of constantly reevaluating my beliefs in the bitchun society, and i'd never had a more vibrant, thought-provoking time in all my life. i could have left the park, deadheaded to anywhere in the world, started over. i could have turned my back on dan, on debra, on lil and the whole mess. i didn't. i called up the doc. ========= chapter ========= doctor pete answered on the third ring, audio-only. in the background, i heard a chorus of crying children, the constant backdrop of the magic kingdom infirmary. "hi, doc," i said. "hello, julius. what can i do for you?" under the veneer of professional medical and castmember friendliness, i sensed irritation. _make it all good again_. "i'm not really sure. i wanted to see if i could talk it over with you. i'm having some pretty big problems." "i'm on-shift until five. can it wait until then?" by then, i had no idea if i'd have the nerve to see him. "i don't think so -- i was hoping we could meet right away." "if it's an emergency, i can have an ambulance sent for you." "it's urgent, but not an emergency. i need to talk about it in person. please?" he sighed in undoctorly, uncastmemberly fashion. "julius, i've got important things to do here. are you sure this can't wait?" i bit back a sob. "i'm sure, doc." "all right then. when can you be here?" lil had made it clear that she didn't want me in the park. "can you meet me? i can't really come to you. i'm at the contemporary, tower b, room ." "i don't really make house calls, son." "i know, i know." i hated how pathetic i sounded. "can you make an exception? i don't know who else to turn to." "i'll be there as soon as i can. i'll have to get someone to cover for me. let's not make a habit of this, all right?" i whooshed out my relief. "i promise." he disconnected abruptly, and i found myself dialing dan. "yes?" he said, cautiously. "doctor pete is coming over, dan. i don't know if he can help me -- i don't know if anyone can. i just wanted you to know." he surprised me, then, and made me remember why he was still my friend, even after everything. "do you want me to come over?" "that would be very nice," i said, quietly. "i'm at the hotel." "give me ten minutes," he said, and rang off. # he found me on my patio, looking out at the castle and the peaks of space mountain. to my left spread the sparkling waters of the seven seas lagoon, to my right, the property stretched away for mile after manicured mile. the sun was warm on my skin, faint strains of happy laughter drifted with the wind, and the flowers were in bloom. in toronto, it would be freezing rain, gray buildings, noisome rapid transit (a monorail hissed by), and hard-faced anonymity. i missed it. dan pulled up a chair next to mine and sat without a word. we both stared out at the view for a long while. "it's something else, isn't it?" i said, finally. "i suppose so," he said. "i want to say something before the doc comes by, julius." "go ahead." "lil and i are through. it should never have happened in the first place, and i'm not proud of myself. if you two were breaking up, that's none of my business, but i had no right to hurry it along." "all right," i said. i was too drained for emotion. "i've taken a room here, moved my things." "how's lil taking it?" "oh, she thinks i'm a total bastard. i suppose she's right." "i suppose she's partly right," i corrected him. he gave me a gentle slug in the shoulder. "thanks." we waited in companionable silence until the doc arrived. he bustled in, his smile lines drawn up into a sour purse and waited expectantly. i left dan on the patio while i took a seat on the bed. "i'm cracking up or something," i said. "i've been acting erratically, sometimes violently. i don't know what's wrong with me." i'd rehearsed the speech, but it still wasn't easy to choke out. "we both know what's wrong, julius," the doc said, impatiently. "you need to be refreshed from your backup, get set up with a fresh clone and retire this one. we've had this talk." "i can't do it," i said, not meeting his eye. "i just can't -- isn't there another way?" the doc shook his head. "julius, i've got limited resources to allocate. there's a perfectly good cure for what's ailing you, and if you won't take it, there's not much i can do for you." "but what about meds?" "your problem isn't a chemical imbalance, it's a mental defect. your _brain_ is _broken_, son. all that meds will do is mask the symptoms, while you get worse. i can't tell you what you want to hear, unfortunately. now, if you're ready to take the cure, i can retire this clone immediately and get you restored into a new one in hours." "isn't there another way? please? you have to help me -- i can't lose all this." i couldn't admit my real reasons for being so attached to this singularly miserable chapter in my life, not even to myself. the doctor rose to go. "look, julius, you haven't got the whuffie to make it worth anyone's time to research a solution to this problem, other than the one that we all know about. i can give you mood- suppressants, but that's not a permanent solution." "why not?" he boggled. "you _can't_ just take dope for the rest of your life, son. eventually, something will happen to this body -- i see from your file that you're stroke-prone -- and you're going to get refreshed from your backup. the longer you wait, the more traumatic it'll be. you're robbing from your future self for your selfish present." it wasn't the first time the thought had crossed my mind. every passing day made it harder to take the cure. to lie down and wake up friends with dan, to wake up and be in love with lil again. to wake up to a mansion the way i remembered it, a hall of presidents where i could find lil bent over with her head in a president's guts of an afternoon. to lie down and wake without disgrace, without knowing that my lover and my best friend would betray me, _had_ betrayed me. i just couldn't do it -- not yet, anyway. dan -- dan was going to kill himself soon, and if i restored myself from my old backup, i'd lose my last year with him. i'd lose _his_ last year. "let's table that, doc. i hear what you're saying, but there're complications. i guess i'll take the mood-suppressants for now." he gave me a cold look. "i'll give you a scrip, then. i could've done that without coming out here. please don't call me anymore." i was shocked by his obvious ire, but i didn't understand it until he was gone and i told dan what had happened. "us old-timers, we're used to thinking of doctors as highly trained professionals -- all that pre-bitchun med-school stuff, long internships, anatomy drills... truth is, the average doc today gets more training in bedside manner than bioscience. 'doctor' pete is a technician, not an md, not the way you and i mean it. anyone with the kind of knowledge you're looking for is working as a historical researcher, not a doctor. "but that's not the illusion. the doc is supposed to be the authority on medical matters, even though he's only got one trick: restore from backup. you're reminding pete of that, and he's not happy to have it happen." # i waited a week before returning to the magic kingdom, sunning myself on the white sand beach at the contemporary, jogging the walk around the world, taking a canoe out to the wild and overgrown discovery island, and generally cooling out. dan came by in the evenings and it was like old times, running down the pros and cons of whuffie and bitchunry and life in general, sitting on my porch with a sweating pitcher of lemonade. on the last night, he presented me with a clever little handheld, a museum piece that i recalled fondly from the dawning days of the bitchun society. it had much of the functionality of my defunct systems, in a package i could slip in my shirt pocket. it felt like part of a costume, like the turnip watches the ben franklin streetmosphere players wore at the american adventure. museum piece or no, it meant that i was once again qualified to participate in the bitchun society, albeit more slowly and less efficiently than i once may've. i took it downstairs the next morning and drove to the magic kingdom's castmember lot. at least, that was the plan. when i got down to the contemporary's parking lot, my runabout was gone. a quick check with the handheld revealed the worst: my whuffie was low enough that someone had just gotten inside and driven away, realizing that they could make more popular use of it than i could. with a sinking feeling, i trudged up to my room and swiped my key through the lock. it emitted a soft, unsatisfied _bzzz_ and lit up, "please see the front desk." my room had been reassigned, too. i had the short end of the whuffie stick. at least there was no mandatory whuffie check on the monorail platform, but the other people on the car were none too friendly to me, and no one offered me an inch more personal space than was necessary. i had hit bottom. # i took the castmember entrance to the magic kingdom, clipping my name tag to my disney operations polo shirt, ignoring the glares of my fellow castmembers in the utilidors. i used the handheld to page dan. "hey there," he said, brightly. i could tell instantly that i was being humored. "where are you?" i asked. "oh, up in the square. by the liberty tree." in front of the hall of presidents. i worked the handheld, pinged some whuffie manually. debra was spiked so high it seemed she'd never come down, as were tim and her whole crew in aggregate. they were drawing from guests by the millions, and from castmembers and from people who'd read the popular accounts of their struggle against the forces of petty jealousy and sabotage -- i.e., me. i felt light-headed. i hurried along to costuming and changed into the heavy green mansion costume, then ran up the stairs to the square. i found dan sipping a coffee and sitting on a bench under the giant, lantern-hung liberty tree. he had a second cup waiting for me, and patted the bench next to him. i sat with him and sipped, waiting for him to spill whatever bit of rotten news he had for me this morning -- i could feel it hovering like storm clouds. he wouldn't talk though, not until we finished the coffee. then he stood and strolled over to the mansion. it wasn't rope-drop yet, and there weren't any guests in the park, which was all for the better, given what was coming next. "have you taken a look at debra's whuffie lately?" he asked, finally, as we stood by the pet cemetery, considering the empty scaffolding. i started to pull out the handheld but he put a hand on my arm. "don't bother," he said, morosely. "suffice it to say, debra's gang is number one with a bullet. ever since word got out about what happened to the hall, they've been stacking it deep. they can do just about anything, jules, and get away with it." my stomach tightened and i found myself grinding my molars. "so, what is it they've done, dan?" i asked, already knowing the answer. dan didn't have to respond, because at that moment, tim emerged from the mansion, wearing a light cotton work-smock. he had a thoughtful expression, and when he saw us, he beamed his elfin grin and came over. "hey guys!" he said. "hi, tim," dan said. i nodded, not trusting myself to speak. "pretty exciting stuff, huh?" he said. "i haven't told him yet," dan said, with forced lightness. "why don't you run it down?" "well, it's pretty radical, i have to admit. we've learned some stuff from the hall that we wanted to apply, and at the same time, we wanted to capture some of the historical character of the ghost story." i opened my mouth to object, but dan put a hand on my forearm. "really?" he asked innocently. "how do you plan on doing that?" "well, we're keeping the telepresence robots -- that's a honey of an idea, julius -- but we're giving each one an uplink so that it can flash-bake. we've got some high-whuffie horror writers pulling together a series of narratives about the lives of each ghost: how they met their tragic ends, what they've done since, you know. "the way we've storyboarded it, the guests stream through the ride pretty much the way they do now, walking through the preshow and then getting into the ride-vehicles, the doom buggies. but here's the big change: we _slow it all down_. we trade off throughput for intensity, make it more of a premium product. "so you're a guest. from the queue to the unload zone, you're being chased by these ghosts, these telepresence robots, and they're really scary -- i've got suneep's concept artists going back to the drawing board, hitting basic research on stuff that'll just scare the guests silly. when a ghost catches you, lays its hands on you -- wham! flash- bake! you get its whole grisly story in three seconds, across your frontal lobe. by the time you've left, you've had ten or more ghost- contacts, and the next time you come back, it's all new ghosts with all new stories. the way that the hall's drawing 'em, we're bound to be a hit." he put his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, clearly proud of himself. when epcot center first opened, long, long ago, there'd been an ugly decade or so in ride design. imagineering found a winning formula for spaceship earth, the flagship ride in the big golf ball, and, in their drive to establish thematic continuity, they'd turned the formula into a cookie-cutter, stamping out half a dozen clones for each of the "themed" areas in the future showcase. it went like this: first, we were cavemen, then there was ancient greece, then rome burned (cue sulfur-odor fx), then there was the great depression, and, finally, we reached the modern age. who knows what the future holds? we do! we'll all have videophones and be living on the ocean floor. once was cute -- compelling and inspirational, even -- but six times was embarrassing. like everyone, once imagineering got themselves a good hammer, everything started to resemble a nail. even now, the epcot ad-hocs were repeating the sins of their forebears, closing every ride with a scene of bitchun utopia. and debra was repeating the classic mistake, tearing her way through the magic kingdom with her blaster set to flash-bake. "tim," i said, hearing the tremble in my voice. "i thought you said that you had no designs on the mansion, that you and debra wouldn't be trying to take it away from us. didn't you say that?" tim rocked back as if i'd slapped him and the blood drained from his face. "but we're not taking it away!" he said. "you _invited_ us to help." i shook my head, confused. "we did?" i said. "sure," he said. "yes," dan said. "kim and some of the other rehab cast went to debra yesterday and asked her to do a design review of the current rehab and suggest any changes. she was good enough to agree, and they've come up with some great ideas." i read between the lines: the newbies you invited in have gone over to the other side and we're going to lose everything because of them. i felt like shit. "well, i stand corrected," i said, carefully. tim's grin came back and he clapped his hands together. _he really loves the mansion_, i thought. _he could have been on our side, if we had only played it all right._ # dan and i took to the utilidors and grabbed a pair of bicycles and sped towards suneep's lab, jangling our bells at the rushing castmembers. "they don't have the authority to invite debra in," i panted as we pedaled. "says who?" dan said. "it was part of the deal -- they knew that they were probationary members right from the start. they weren't even allowed into the design meetings." "looks like they took themselves off probation," he said. suneep gave us both a chilly look when we entered his lab. he had dark circles under his eyes and his hands shook with exhaustion. he seemed to be holding himself erect with nothing more than raw anger. "so much for building without interference," he said. "we agreed that this project wouldn't change midway through. now it has, and i've got other commitments that i'm going to have to cancel because this is going off-schedule." i made soothing apologetic gestures with my hands. "suneep, believe me, i'm just as upset about this as you are. we don't like this one little bit." he harrumphed. "we had a deal, julius," he said, hotly. "i would do the rehab for you and you would keep the ad-hocs off my back. i've been holding up my end of the bargain, but where the hell have you been? if they replan the rehab now, i'll _have_ to go along with them. i can't just leave the mansion half-done -- they'll murder me." the kernel of a plan formed in my mind. "suneep, we don't like the new rehab plan, and we're going to stop it. you can help. just stonewall them -- tell them they'll have to find other imagineering support if they want to go through with it, that you're booked solid." dan gave me one of his long, considering looks, then nodded a minute approval. "yeah," he drawled. "that'll help all right. just tell 'em that they're welcome to make any changes they want to the plan, _if_ they can find someone else to execute them." suneep looked unhappy. "fine -- so then they go and find someone else to do it, and that person gets all the credit for the work my team's done so far. i just flush my time down the toilet." "it won't come to that," i said quickly. "if you can just keep saying no for a couple days, we'll do the rest." suneep looked doubtful. "i promise," i said. suneep ran his stubby fingers through his already crazed hair. "all right," he said, morosely. dan slapped him on the back. "good man," he said. # it should have worked. it almost did. i sat in the back of the adventureland conference room while dan exhorted. "look, you don't have to roll over for debra and her people! this is _your_ garden, and you've tended it responsibly for years. she's got no right to move in on you -- you've got all the whuffie you need to defend the place, if you all work together." no castmember likes confrontation, and the liberty square bunch were tough to rouse to action. dan had turned down the air conditioning an hour before the meeting and closed up all the windows, so that the room was a kiln for hard-firing irritation into rage. i stood meekly in the back, as far as possible from dan. he was working his magic on my behalf, and i was content to let him do his thing. when lil had arrived, she'd sized up the situation with a sour expression: sit in the front, near dan, or in the back, near me. she'd chosen the middle, and to concentrate on dan i had to tear my eyes away from the sweat glistening on her long, pale neck. dan stalked the aisles like a preacher, eyes blazing. "they're _stealing_ your future! they're _stealing_ your _past_! they claim they've got your support!" he lowered his tone. "i don't think that's true." he grabbed a castmember by her hand and looked into her eyes. "is it true?" he said so low it was almost a whisper. "no," the castmember said. he dropped her hand and whirled to face another castmember. "is it true?" he demanded, raising his voice, slightly. "no!" the castmember said, his voice unnaturally loud after the whispers. a nervous chuckle rippled through the crowd. "is it true?" he said, striding to the podium, shouting now. "no!" the crowd roared. "no!" he shouted back. "you don't _have to_ roll over and take it! you can fight back, carry on with the plan, send them packing. they're only taking over because you're letting them. are you going to let them?" "no!" # bitchun wars are rare. long before anyone tries a takeover of anything, they've done the arithmetic and ensured themselves that the ad-hoc they're displacing doesn't have a hope of fighting back. for the defenders, it's a simple decision: step down gracefully and salvage some reputation out of the thing -- fighting back will surely burn away even that meager reward. no one benefits from fighting back -- least of all the thing everyone's fighting over. for example: it was the second year of my undergrad, taking a double-major in not making trouble for my profs and keeping my mouth shut. it was the early days of bitchun, and most of us were still a little unclear on the concept. not all of us, though: a group of campus shit-disturbers, grad students in the sociology department, were on the bleeding edge of the revolution, and they knew what they wanted: control of the department, oustering of the tyrannical, stodgy profs, a bully pulpit from which to preach the bitchun gospel to a generation of impressionable undergrads who were too cowed by their workloads to realize what a load of shit they were being fed by the university. at least, that's what the intense, heavyset woman who seized the mic at my soc course said, that sleepy morning mid-semester at convocation hall. nineteen hundred students filled the hall, a capacity crowd of bleary, coffee-sipping time-markers, and they woke up in a hurry when the woman's strident harangue burst over their heads. i saw it happen from the very start. the prof was down there on the stage, a speck with a tie-mic, droning over his slides, and then there was a blur as half a dozen grad students rushed the stage. they were dressed in university poverty-chic, wrinkled slacks and tattered sports coats, and five of them formed a human wall in front of the prof while the sixth, the heavyset one with the dark hair and the prominent mole on her cheek, unclipped his mic and clipped it to her lapel. "wakey wakey!" she called, and the reality of the moment hit home for me: this wasn't on the lesson-plan. "come on, heads up! this is _not_ a drill. the university of toronto department of sociology is under new management. if you'll set your handhelds to 'receive,' we'll be beaming out new lesson-plans momentarily. if you've forgotten your handhelds, you can download the plans later on. i'm going to run it down for you right now, anyway. "before i start though, i have a prepared statement for you. you'll probably hear this a couple times more today, in your other classes. it's worth repeating. here goes: "we reject the stodgy, tyrannical rule of the profs at this department. we demand bully pulpits from which to preach the bitchun gospel. effective immediately, the university of toronto ad-hoc sociology department is _in charge_. we promise high-relevance curriculum with an emphasis on reputation economies, post-scarcity social dynamics, and the social theory of infinite life-extension. no more durkheim, kids, just deadheading! this will be _fun_." she taught the course like a pro -- you could tell she'd been drilling her lecture for a while. periodically, the human wall behind her shuddered as the prof made a break for it and was restrained. at precisely : a.m. she dismissed the class, which had hung on her every word. instead of trudging out and ambling to our next class, the whole nineteen hundred of us rose, and, as one, started buzzing to our neighbors, a roar of "can you believe it?" that followed us out the door and to our next encounter with the ad-hoc sociology department. it was cool, that day. i had another soc class, constructing social deviance, and we got the same drill there, the same stirring propaganda, the same comical sight of a tenured prof battering himself against a human wall of ad-hocs. reporters pounced on us when we left the class, jabbing at us with mics and peppering us with questions. i gave them a big thumbs-up and said, "bitchun!" in classic undergrad eloquence. the profs struck back the next morning. i got a heads-up from the newscast as i brushed my teeth: the dean of the department of sociology told a reporter that the ad-hocs' courses would not be credited, that they were a gang of thugs who were totally unqualified to teach. a counterpoint interview from a spokesperson for the ad-hocs established that all of the new lecturers had been writing course-plans and lecture notes for the profs they replaced for years, and that they'd also written most of their journal articles. the profs brought university security out to help them regain their lecterns, only to be repelled by ad-hoc security guards in homemade uniforms. university security got the message -- anyone could be replaced -- and stayed away. the profs picketed. they held classes out front attended by grade- conscious brown-nosers who worried that the ad-hocs' classes wouldn't count towards their degrees. fools like me alternated between the outdoor and indoor classes, not learning much of anything. no one did. the profs spent their course-times whoring for whuffie, leading the seminars like encounter groups instead of lectures. the ad-hocs spent their time badmouthing the profs and tearing apart their coursework. at the end of the semester, everyone got a credit and the university senate disbanded the sociology program in favor of a distance-ed offering from concordia in montreal. forty years later, the fight was settled forever. once you took backup-and-restore, the rest of the bitchunry just followed, a value-system settling over you. those who didn't take backup-and-restore may have objected, but, hey, they all died. # the liberty square ad-hocs marched shoulder to shoulder through the utilidors and, as a mass, took back the haunted mansion. dan, lil and i were up front, careful not to brush against one another as we walked quickly through the backstage door and started a bucket-brigade, passing out the materials that debra's people had stashed there, along a line that snaked back to the front porch of the hall of presidents, where they were unceremoniously dumped. once the main stash was vacated, we split up and roamed the ride, its service corridors and dioramas, the break-room and the secret passages, rounding up every scrap of debra's crap and passing it out the door. in the attic scene, i ran into kim and three of her giggly little friends, their eyes glinting in the dim light. the gaggle of transhuman kids made my guts clench, made me think of zed and of lil and of my unmediated brain, and i had a sudden urge to shred them verbally. no. no. that way lay madness and war. this was about taking back what was ours, not punishing the interlopers. "kim, i think you should leave," i said, quietly. she snorted and gave me a dire look. "who died and made you boss?" she said. her friends thought it very brave, they made it clear with double- jointed hip-thrusts and glares. "kim, you can leave now or you can leave later. the longer you wait, the worse it will be for you and your whuffie. you blew it, and you're not a part of the mansion anymore. go home, go to debra. don't stay here, and don't come back. ever." ever. be cast out of this thing that you love, that you obsess over, that you worked for. "now," i said, quiet, dangerous, barely in control. they sauntered into the graveyard, hissing vitriol at me. oh, they had lots of new material to post to the anti-me sites, messages that would get them whuffie with people who thought i was the scum of the earth. a popular view, those days. i got out of the mansion and looked at the bucket-brigade, followed it to the front of the hall. the park had been open for an hour, and a herd of guests watched the proceedings in confusion. the liberty square ad-hocs passed their loads around in clear embarrassment, knowing that they were violating every principle they cared about. as i watched, gaps appeared in the bucket-brigade as castmembers slipped away, faces burning scarlet with shame. at the hall of presidents, debra presided over an orderly relocation of her things, a cheerful cadre of her castmembers quickly moving it all offstage. i didn't have to look at my handheld to know what was happening to our whuffie. # by evening, we were back on schedule. suneep supervised the placement of his telepresence rigs and lil went over every system in minute detail, bossing a crew of ad-hocs that trailed behind her, double- and triple- checking it all. suneep smiled at me when he caught sight of me, hand-scattering dust in the parlor. "congratulations, sir," he said, and shook my hand. "it was masterfully done." "thanks, suneep. i'm not sure how masterful it was, but we got the job done, and that's what counts." "your partners, they're happier than i've seen them since this whole business started. i know how they feel!" my partners? oh, yes, dan and lil. how happy were they, i wondered. happy enough to get back together? my mood fell, even though a part of me said that dan would never go back to her, not after all we'd been through together. "i'm glad you're glad. we couldn't have done it without you, and it looks like we'll be open for business in a week." "oh, i should think so. are you coming to the party tonight?" party? probably something the liberty square ad-hocs were putting on. i would almost certainly be persona non grata. "i don't think so," i said, carefully. "i'll probably work late here." he chided me for working too hard, but once he saw that i had no intention of being dragged to the party, he left off. and that's how i came to be in the mansion at a.m. the next morning, dozing in a backstage break room when i heard a commotion from the parlor. festive voices, happy and loud, and i assumed it was liberty square ad-hocs coming back from their party. i roused myself and entered the parlor. kim and her friends were there, pushing hand-trucks of debra's gear. i got ready to shout something horrible at them, and that's when debra came in. i moderated the shout to a snap, opened my mouth to speak, stopped. behind debra were lil's parents, frozen these long years in their canopic jars in kissimmee. ========= chapter ========= lil's parents went into their jars with little ceremony. i saw them just before they went in, when they stopped in at lil's and my place to kiss her goodbye and wish her well. tom and i stood awkwardly to the side while lil and her mother held an achingly chipper and polite farewell. "so," i said to tom. "deadheading." he cocked an eyebrow. "yup. took the backup this morning." before coming to see their daughter, they'd taken their backups. when they woke, this event -- everything following the backup -- would never have happened for them. god, they were bastards. "when are you coming back?" i asked, keeping my castmember face on, carefully hiding away the disgust. "we'll be sampling monthly, just getting a digest dumped to us. when things look interesting enough, we'll come on back." he waggled a finger at me. "i'll be keeping an eye on you and lillian -- you treat her right, you hear?" "we're sure going to miss you two around here," i said. he pishtoshed and said, "you won't even notice we're gone. this is your world now -- we're just getting out of the way for a while, letting you-all take a run at it. we wouldn't be going down if we didn't have faith in you two." lil and her mom kissed one last time. her mother was more affectionate than i'd ever seen her, even to the point of tearing up a little. here in this moment of vanishing consciousness, she could be whomever she wanted, knowing that it wouldn't matter the next time she awoke. "julius," she said, taking my hands, squeezing them. "you've got some wonderful times ahead of you -- between lil and the park, you're going to have a tremendous experience, i just know it." she was infinitely serene and compassionate, and i knew it didn't count. still smiling, they got into their runabout and drove away to get the lethal injections, to become disembodied consciousnesses, to lose their last moments with their darling daughter. # they were not happy to be returned from the dead. their new bodies were impossibly young, pubescent and hormonal and doleful and kitted out in the latest trendy styles. in the company of kim and her pals, they made a solid mass of irate adolescence. "just what the hell do you think you're doing?" rita asked, shoving me hard in the chest. i stumbled back into my carefully scattered dust, raising a cloud. rita came after me, but tom held her back. "julius, go away. your actions are totally indefensible. keep your mouth shut and go away." i held up a hand, tried to wave away his words, opened my mouth to speak. "don't say a word," he said. "leave. now." "_don't stay here and don't come back. ever_," kim said, an evil look on her face. "no," i said. "no goddamn it no. you're going to hear me out, and then i'm going to get lil and her people and they're going to back me up. that's not negotiable." we stared at each other across the dim parlor. debra made a twiddling motion and the lights came up full and harsh. the expertly crafted gloom went away and it was just a dusty room with a fake fireplace. "let him speak," debra said. rita folded her arms and glared. "i did some really awful things," i said, keeping my head up, keeping my eyes on them. "i can't excuse them, and i don't ask you to forgive them. but that doesn't change the fact that we've put our hearts and souls into this place, and it's not right to take it from us. can't we have one constant corner of the world, one bit frozen in time for the people who love it that way? why does your success mean our failure? "can't you see that we're carrying on your work? that we're tending a legacy you left us?" "are you through?" rita asked. i nodded. "this place is not a historical preserve, julius, it's a ride. if you don't understand that, you're in the wrong place. it's not my goddamn fault that you decided that your stupidity was on my behalf, and it doesn't make it any less stupid. all you've done is confirm my worst fears." debra's mask of impartiality slipped. "you stupid, deluded asshole," she said, softly. "you totter around, pissing and moaning about your little murder, your little health problems -- yes, i've heard -- your little fixation on keeping things the way they are. you need some perspective, julius. you need to get away from here: disney world isn't good for you and you're sure as hell not any good for disney world." it would have hurt less if i hadn't come to the same conclusion myself, somewhere along the way. # i found the ad-hoc at a fort wilderness campsite, sitting around a fire and singing, necking, laughing. the victory party. i trudged into the circle and hunted for lil. she was sitting on a log, staring into the fire, a million miles away. lord, she was beautiful when she fretted. i stood in front of her for a minute and she stared right through me until i tapped her shoulder. she gave an involuntary squeak and then smiled at herself. "lil," i said, then stopped. _your parents are home, and they've joined the other side_. for the first time in an age, she looked at me softly, smiled even. she patted the log next to her. i sat down, felt the heat of the fire on my face, her body heat on my side. god, how did i screw this up? without warning, she put her arms around me and hugged me hard. i hugged her back, nose in her hair, woodsmoke smell and shampoo and sweat. "we did it," she whispered fiercely. i held onto her. _no, we didn't_. "lil," i said again, and pulled away. "what?" she said, her eyes shining. she was stoned, i saw that now. "your parents are back. they came to the mansion." she was confused, shrinking, and i pressed on. "they were with debra." she reeled back as if i'd slapped her. "i told them i'd bring the whole group back to talk it over." she hung her head and her shoulders shook, and i tentatively put an arm around her. she shook it off and sat up. she was crying and laughing at the same time. "i'll have a ferry sent over," she said. # i sat in the back of the ferry with dan, away from the confused and angry ad-hocs. i answered his questions with terse, one-word answers, and he gave up. we rode in silence, the trees on the edges of the seven seas lagoon whipping back and forth in an approaching storm. the ad-hoc shortcutted through the west parking lot and moved through the quiet streets of frontierland apprehensively, a funeral procession that stopped the nighttime custodial staff in their tracks. as we drew up on liberty square, i saw that the work-lights were blazing and a tremendous work-gang of debra's ad-hocs were moving from the hall to the mansion, undoing our teardown of their work. working alongside of them were tom and rita, lil's parents, sleeves rolled up, forearms bulging with new, toned muscle. the group stopped in its tracks and lil went to them, stumbling on the wooden sidewalk. i expected hugs. there were none. in their stead, parents and daughter stalked each other, shifting weight and posture to track each other, maintain a constant, sizing distance. "what the hell are you doing?" lil said, finally. she didn't address her mother, which surprised me. it didn't surprise tom, though. he dipped forward, the shuffle of his feet loud in the quiet night. "we're working," he said. "no, you're not," lil said. "you're destroying. stop it." lil's mother darted to her husband's side, not saying anything, just standing there. wordlessly, tom hefted the box he was holding and headed to the mansion. lil caught his arm and jerked it so he dropped his load. "you're not listening. the mansion is _ours_. _stop_. _it_." lil's mother gently took lil's hand off tom's arm, held it in her own. "i'm glad you're passionate about it, lillian," she said. "i'm proud of your commitment." even at a distance of ten yards, i heard lil's choked sob, saw her collapse in on herself. her mother took her in her arms, rocked her. i felt like a voyeur, but couldn't bring myself to turn away. "shhh," her mother said, a sibilant sound that matched the rustling of the leaves on the liberty tree. "shhh. we don't have to be on the same side, you know." they held the embrace and held it still. lil straightened, then bent again and picked up her father's box, carried it to the mansion. one at a time, the rest of her ad-hoc moved forward and joined them. # this is how you hit bottom. you wake up in your friend's hotel room and you power up your handheld and it won't log on. you press the call- button for the elevator and it gives you an angry buzz in return. you take the stairs to the lobby and no one looks at you as they jostle past you. you become a non-person. scared. i trembled when i ascended the stairs to dan's room, when i knocked at his door, louder and harder than i meant, a panicked banging. dan answered the door and i saw his eyes go to his hud, back to me. "jesus," he said. i sat on the edge of my bed, head in my hands. "what?" i said, what happened, what happened to me? "you're out of the ad-hoc," he said. "you're out of whuffie. you're bottomed-out," he said. this is how you hit bottom in walt disney world, in a hotel with the hissing of the monorail and the sun streaming through the window, the hooting of the steam engines on the railroad and the distant howl of the recorded wolves at the haunted mansion. the world drops away from you, recedes until you're nothing but a speck, a mote in blackness. i was hyperventilating, light-headed. deliberately, i slowed my breath, put my head between my knees until the dizziness passed. "take me to lil," i said. driving together, hammering cigarette after cigarette into my face, i remembered the night dan had come to disney world, when i'd driven him to my -- _lil's_ -- house, and how happy i'd been then, how secure. i looked at dan and he patted my hand. "strange times," he said. it was enough. we found lil in an underground break-room, lightly dozing on a ratty sofa. her head rested on tom's lap, her feet on rita's. all three snored softly. they'd had a long night. dan shook lil awake. she stretched out and opened her eyes, looked sleepily at me. the blood drained from her face. "hello, julius," she said, coldly. now tom and rita were awake, too. lil sat up. "were you going to tell me?" i asked, quietly. "or were you just going to kick me out and let me find out on my own?" "you were my next stop," lil said. "then i've saved you some time." i pulled up a chair. "tell me all about it." "there's nothing to tell," rita snapped. "you're out. you had to know it was coming -- for god's sake, you were tearing liberty square apart!" "how would you know?" i asked. i struggled to remain calm. "you've been asleep for ten years!" "we got updates," rita said. "that's why we're back -- we couldn't let it go on the way it was. we owed it to debra." "and lillian," tom said. "and lillian," rita said, absently. dan pulled up a chair of his own. "you're not being fair to him," he said. at least someone was on my side. "we've been more than fair," lil said. "you know that better than anyone, dan. we've forgiven and forgiven and forgiven, made every allowance. he's sick and he won't take the cure. there's nothing more we can do for him." "you could be his friend," dan said. the light-headedness was back, and i slumped in my chair, tried to control my breathing, the panicked thumping of my heart. "you could try to understand, you could try to help him. you could stick with him, the way he stuck with you. you don't have to toss him out on his ass." lil had the good grace to look slightly shamed. "i'll get him a room," she said. "for a month. in kissimmee. a motel. i'll pick up his network access. is that fair?" "it's more than fair," rita said. why did she hate me so much? i'd been there for her daughter while she was away -- ah. that might do it, all right. "i don't think it's warranted. if you want to take care of him, sir, you can. it's none of my family's business." lil's eyes blazed. "let me handle this," she said. "all right?" rita stood up abruptly. "you do whatever you want," she said, and stormed out of the room. "why are you coming here for help?" tom said, ever the voice of reason. "you seem capable enough." "i'm going to be taking a lethal injection at the end of the week," dan said. "three days. that's personal, but you asked." tom shook his head. _some friends you've got yourself_, i could see him thinking it. "that soon?" lil asked, a throb in her voice. dan nodded. in a dreamlike buzz, i stood and wandered out into the utilidor, out through the western castmember parking, and away. i wandered along the cobbled, disused walk around the world, each flagstone engraved with the name of a family that had visited the park a century before. the names whipped past me like epitaphs. the sun came up noon high as i rounded the bend of deserted beach between the grand floridian and the polynesian. lil and i had come here often, to watch the sunset from a hammock, arms around each other, the park spread out before us like a lighted toy village. now the beach was deserted, the wedding pavilion silent. i felt suddenly cold though i was sweating freely. so cold. dreamlike, i walked into the lake, water filling my shoes, logging my pants, warm as blood, warm on my chest, on my chin, on my mouth, on my eyes. i opened my mouth and inhaled deeply, water filling my lungs, choking and warm. at first i sputtered, but i was in control now, and i inhaled again. the water shimmered over my eyes, and then was dark. # i woke on doctor pete's cot in the magic kingdom, restraints around my wrists and ankles, a tube in my nose. i closed my eyes, for a moment believing that i'd been restored from a backup, problems solved, memories behind me. sorrow knifed through me as i realized that dan was probably dead by now, my memories of him gone forever. gradually, i realized that i was thinking nonsensically. the fact that i remembered dan meant that i hadn't been refreshed from my backup, that my broken brain was still there, churning along in unmediated isolation. i coughed again. my ribs ached and throbbed in counterpoint to my head. dan took my hand. "you're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he said, smiling. "sorry," i choked. "you sure are," he said. "lucky for you they found you -- another minute or two and i'd be burying you right now." _no_, i thought, confused. _they'd have restored me from backup_. then it hit me: i'd gone on record refusing restore from backup after having it recommended by a medical professional. no one would have restored me after that. i would have been truly and finally dead. i started to shiver. "easy," dan said. "easy. it's all right now. doctor says you've got a cracked rib or two from the cpr, but there's no brain damage." "no _additional_ brain damage," doctor pete said, swimming into view. he had on his professionally calm bedside face, and it reassured me despite myself. he shooed dan away and took his seat. once dan had left the room, he shone lights in my eyes and peeked in my ears, then sat back and considered me. "well, julius," he said. "what exactly is the problem? we can get you a lethal injection if that's what you want, but offing yourself in the seven seas lagoon just isn't good show. in the meantime, would you like to talk about it?" part of me wanted to spit in his eye. i'd tried to talk about it and he'd told me to go to hell, and now he changes his mind? but i did want to talk. "i didn't want to die," i said. "oh no?" he said. "i think the evidence suggests the contrary." "i wasn't trying to die," i protested. "i was trying to --" what? i was trying to. . ._abdicate_. take the refresh without choosing it, without shutting out the last year of my best friend's life. rescue myself from the stinking pit i'd sunk into without flushing dan away along with it. that's all, that's all. "i wasn't thinking -- i was just acting. it was an episode or something. does that mean i'm nuts?" "oh, probably," doctor pete said, offhandedly. "but let's worry about one thing at a time. you can die if you want to, that's your right. i'd rather you lived, if you want my opinion, and i doubt that i'm the only one, whuffie be damned. if you're going to live, i'd like to record you saying so, just in case. we have a backup of you on file -- i'd hate to have to delete it." "yes," i said. "yes, i'd like to be restored if there's no other option." it was true. i didn't want to die. "all right then," doctor pete said. "it's on file and i'm a happy man. now, are you nuts? probably. a little. nothing a little counseling and some r&r wouldn't fix, if you want my opinion. i could find you somewhere if you want." "not yet," i said. "i appreciate the offer, but there's something else i have to do first." # dan took me back to the room and put me to bed with a transdermal soporific that knocked me out for the rest of the day. when i woke, the moon was over the seven seas lagoon and the monorail was silent. i stood on the patio for a while, thinking about all the things this place had meant to me for more than a century: happiness, security, efficiency, fantasy. all of it gone. it was time i left. maybe back to space, find zed and see if i could make her happy again. anywhere but here. once dan was dead -- god, it was sinking in finally -- i could catch a ride down to the cape for a launch. "what's on your mind?" dan asked from behind me, startling me. he was in his boxers, thin and rangy and hairy. "thinking about moving on," i said. he chuckled. "i've been thinking about doing the same," he said. i smiled. "not that way," i said. "just going somewhere else, starting over. getting away from this." "going to take the refresh?" he asked. i looked away. "no," i said. "i don't believe i will." "it may be none of my business," he said, "but why the fuck not? jesus, julius, what're you afraid of?" "you don't want to know," i said. "i'll be the judge of that." "let's have a drink, first," i said. dan rolled his eyes back for a second, then said, "all right, two coronas, coming up." after the room-service bot had left, we cracked the beers and pulled chairs out onto the porch. "you sure you want to know this?" i asked. he tipped his bottle at me. "sure as shootin'," he said. "i don't want refresh because it would mean losing the last year," i said. he nodded. "by which you mean 'my last year,'" he said. "right?" i nodded and drank. "i thought it might be like that. julius, you are many things, but hard to figure out you are not. i have something to say that might help you make the decision. if you want to hear it, that is." what could he have to say? "sure," i said. "sure." in my mind, i was on a shuttle headed for orbit, away from all of this. "i had you killed," he said. "debra asked me to, and i set it up. you were right all along." the shuttle exploded in silent, slow moving space, and i spun away from it. i opened and shut my mouth. it was dan's turn to look away. "debra proposed it. we were talking about the people i'd met when i was doing my missionary work, the stone crazies who i'd have to chase away after they'd rejoined the bitchun society. one of them, a girl from cheyenne mountain, she followed me down here, kept leaving me messages. i told debra, and that's when she got the idea. "i'd get the girl to shoot you and disappear. debra would give me whuffie -- piles of it, and her team would follow suit. i'd be months closer to my goal. that was all i could think about back then, you remember." "i remember." the smell of rejuve and desperation in our little cottage, and dan plotting my death. "we planned it, then debra had herself refreshed from a backup -- no memory of the event, just the whuffie for me." "yes," i said. that would work. plan a murder, kill yourself, have yourself refreshed from a backup made before the plan. how many times had debra done terrible things and erased their memories that way? "yes," he agreed. "we did it, i'm ashamed to say. i can prove it, too -- i have my backup, and i can get jeanine to tell it, too." he drained his beer. "that's my plan. tomorrow. i'll tell lil and her folks, kim and her people, the whole ad-hoc. a going-away present from a shitty friend." my throat was dry and tight. i drank more beer. "you knew all along," i said. "you could have proved it at any time." he nodded. "that's right." "you let me. . ." i groped for the words. "you let me turn into. . ." they wouldn't come. "i did," he said. all this time. lil and he, standing on _my_ porch, telling me i needed help. doctor pete, telling me i needed refresh from backup, me saying no, no, no, not wanting to lose my last year with dan. "i've done some pretty shitty things in my day," he said. "this is the absolute worst. you helped me and i betrayed you. i'm sure glad i don't believe in god -- that'd make what i'm going to do even scarier." dan was going to kill himself in two days' time. my friend and my murderer. "dan," i croaked. i couldn't make any sense of my mind. dan, taking care of me, helping me, sticking up for me, carrying this horrible shame with him all along. ready to die, wanting to go with a clean conscience. "you're forgiven," i said. and it was true. he stood. "where are you going" i asked. "to find jeanine, the one who pulled the trigger. i'll meet you at the hall of presidents at nine a.m.." # i went in through the main gate, not a castmember any longer, a guest with barely enough whuffie to scrape in, use the water fountains and stand in line. if i were lucky, a castmember might spare me a chocolate banana. probably not, though. i stood in the line for the hall of presidents. other guests checked my whuffie, then averted their eyes. even the children. a year before, they'd have been striking up conversations, asking me about my job here at the magic kingdom. i sat in my seat at the hall of presidents, watching the short film with the rest, sitting patiently while they rocked in their seats under the blast of the flash-bake. a castmember picked up the stageside mic and thanked everyone for coming; the doors swung open and the hall was empty, except for me. the castmember narrowed her eyes at me, then recognizing me, turned her back and went to show in the next group. no group came. instead, dan and the girl i'd seen on the replay entered. "we've closed it down for the morning," he said. i was staring at the girl, seeing her smirk as she pulled the trigger on me, seeing her now with a contrite, scared expression. she was terrified of me. "you must be jeanine," i said. i stood and shook her hand. "i'm julius." her hand was cold, and she took it back and wiped it on her pants. my castmember instincts took over. "please, have a seat. don't worry, it'll all be fine. really. no hard feelings." i stopped short of offering to get her a glass of water. _put her at her ease_, said a snotty voice in my head. _she'll make a better witness. or make her nervous, pathetic -- that'll work, too; make debra look even worse_. i told the voice to shut up and got her a cup of water. by the time i came back, the whole gang was there. debra, lil, her folks, tim. debra's gang and lil's gang, now one united team. soon to be scattered. dan took the stage, used the stageside mic to broadcast his voice. "eleven months ago, i did an awful thing. i plotted with debra to have julius murdered. i used a friend who was a little confused at the time, used her to pull the trigger. it was debra's idea that having julius killed would cause enough confusion that she could take over the hall of presidents. it was." there was a roar of conversation. i looked at debra, saw that she was sitting calmly, as though dan had just accused her of sneaking an extra helping of dessert. lil's parents, to either side of her, were less sanguine. tom's jaw was set and angry, rita was speaking angrily to debra. hickory jackson in the old hall used to say, _i will hang the first man i can lay hands on from the first tree i can find_. "debra had herself refreshed from backup after we planned it," dan went on, as though no one was talking. "i was supposed to do the same, but i didn't. i have a backup in my public directory -- anyone can examine it. right now, i'd like to bring jeanine up, she's got a few words she'd like to say." i helped jeanine take the stage. she was still trembling, and the ad-hocs were an insensate babble of recriminations. despite myself, i was enjoying it. "hello," jeanine said softly. she had a lovely voice, a lovely face. i wondered if we could be friends when it was all over. she probably didn't care much about whuffie, one way or another. the discussion went on. dan took the mic from her and said, "please! can we have a little respect for our visitor? please? people?" gradually, the din decreased. dan passed the mic back to jeanine. "hello," she said again, and flinched from the sound of her voice in the hall's pa. "my name is jeanine. i'm the one who killed julius, a year ago. dan asked me to, and i did it. i didn't ask why. i trusted -- trust -- him. he told me that julius would make a backup a few minutes before i shot him, and that he could get me out of the park without getting caught. i'm very sorry." there was something off-kilter about her, some stilt to her stance and words that let you know she wasn't all there. growing up in a mountain might do that to you. i snuck a look at lil, whose lips were pressed together. growing up in a theme park might do that to you, too. "thank you, jeanine," dan said, taking back the mic. "you can have a seat now. i've said everything i need to say -- julius and i have had our own discussions in private. if there's anyone else who'd like to speak --" the words were barely out of his mouth before the crowd erupted again in words and waving hands. beside me, jeanine flinched. i took her hand and shouted in her ear: "have you ever been on the pirates of the carribean?" she shook her head. i stood up and pulled her to her feet. "you'll love it," i said, and led her out of the hall. ========== chapter ========== i booked us ringside seats at the polynesian luau, riding high on a fresh round of sympathy whuffie, and dan and i drank a dozen lapu-lapus in hollowed-out pineapples before giving up on the idea of getting drunk. jeanine watched the fire-dances and the torch-lighting with eyes like saucers, and picked daintily at her spare ribs with one hand, never averting her attention from the floor show. when they danced the fast hula, her eyes jiggled. i chuckled. from where we sat, i could see the spot where i'd waded into the seven seas lagoon and breathed in the blood-temp water, i could see cinderella's castle, across the lagoon, i could see the monorails and the ferries and the busses making their busy way through the park, shuttling teeming masses of guests from place to place. dan toasted me with his pineapple and i toasted him back, drank it dry and belched in satisfaction. full belly, good friends, and the sunset behind a troupe of tawny, half- naked hula dancers. who needs the bitchun society, anyway? when it was over, we watched the fireworks from the beach, my toes dug into the clean white sand. dan slipped his hand into my left hand, and jeanine took my right. when the sky darkened and the lighted barges puttered away through the night, we three sat in the hammock. i looked out over the seven seas lagoon and realized that this was my last night, ever, in walt disney world. it was time to reboot again, start afresh. that's what the park was for, only somehow, this visit, i'd gotten stuck. dan had unstuck me. the talk turned to dan's impending death. "so, tell me what you think of this," he said, hauling away on a glowing cigarette. "shoot," i said. "i'm thinking -- why take lethal injection? i mean, i may be done here for now, but why should i make an irreversible decision?" "why did you want to before?" i asked. "oh, it was the macho thing, i guess. the finality and all. but hell, i don't have to prove anything, right?" "sure," i said, magnanimously. "so," he said, thoughtfully. "the question i'm asking is, how long can i deadhead for? there are folks who go down for a thousand years, ten thousand, right?" "so, you're thinking, what, a million?" i joked. he laughed. "a _million_? you're thinking too small, son. try this on for size: the heat death of the universe." "the heat death of the universe," i repeated. "sure," he drawled, and i sensed his grin in the dark. "ten to the hundred years or so. the stelliferous period -- it's when all the black holes have run dry and things get, you know, stupendously dull. cold, too. so i'm thinking -- why not leave a wake-up call for some time around then?" "sounds unpleasant to me," i said. "brrrr." "not at all! i figure, self-repairing nano-based canopic jar, mass enough to feed it -- say, a trillion-ton asteroid -- and a lot of solitude when the time comes around. i'll poke my head in every century or so, just to see what's what, but if nothing really stupendous crops up, i'll take the long ride out. the final frontier." "that's pretty cool," jeanine said. "thanks," dan said. "you're not kidding, are you?" i asked. "nope, i sure ain't," he said. # they didn't invite me back into the ad-hoc, even after debra left in whuffie-penury and they started to put the mansion back the way it was. tim called me to say that with enough support from imagineering, they thought they could get it up and running in a week. suneep was ready to kill someone, i swear. _a house divided against itself can_not_ stand_, as mr. lincoln used to say at the hall of presidents. i packed three changes of clothes and a toothbrush in my shoulderbag and checked out of my suite at the polynesian at ten a.m., then met jeanine and dan at the valet parking out front. dan had a runabout he'd picked up with my whuffie, and i piled in with jeanine in the middle. we played old beatles tunes on the stereo all the long way to cape canaveral. our shuttle lifted at noon. the shuttle docked four hours later, but by the time we'd been through decontam and orientation, it was suppertime. dan, nearly as whuffie-poor as debra after his confession, nevertheless treated us to a meal in the big bubble, squeeze-tubes of heady booze and steaky paste, and we watched the universe get colder for a while. there were a couple guys jamming, tethered to a guitar and a set of tubs, and they weren't half bad. jeanine was uncomfortable hanging there naked. she'd gone to space with her folks after dan had left the mountain, but it was in a long-haul generation ship. she'd abandoned it after a year or two and deadheaded back to earth in a support-pod. she'd get used to life in space after a while. or she wouldn't. "well," dan said. "yup," i said, aping his laconic drawl. he smiled. "it's that time," he said. spheres of saline tears formed in jeanine's eyes, and i brushed them away, setting them adrift in the bubble. i'd developed some real tender, brother-sister type feelings for her since i'd watched her saucer-eye her way through the magic kingdom. no romance -- not for me, thanks! but camaraderie and a sense of responsibility. "see you in ten to the hundred," dan said, and headed to the airlock. i started after him, but jeanine caught my hand. "he hates long good-byes," she said. "i know," i said, and watched him go. # the universe gets older. so do i. so does my backup, sitting in redundant distributed storage dirtside, ready for the day that space or age or stupidity kills me. it recedes with the years, and i write out my life longhand, a letter to the me that i'll be when it's restored into a clone somewhere, somewhen. it's important that whoever i am then knows about this year, and it's going to take a lot of tries for me to get it right. in the meantime, i'm working on another symphony, one with a little bit of "grim grinning ghosts," and a nod to "it's a small world after all," and especially "there's a great big beautiful tomorrow." jeanine says it's pretty good, but what does she know? she's barely fifty. we've both got a lot of living to do before we know what's what. -- ================= acknowledgements: ================= i could never have written this book without the personal support of my friends and family, especially roz doctorow, gord doctorow and neil doctorow, amanda foubister, steve samenski, pat york, grad conn, john henson, john rose, the writers at the cecil street irregulars and mark frauenfelder. i owe a great debt to the writers and editors who mentored and encouraged me: james patrick kelly, judith merril, damon knight, martha soukup, scott edelman, gardner dozois, renee wilmeth, teresa nielsen hayden, claire eddy, bob parks and robert killheffer. i am also indebted to my editor patrick nielsen hayden and my agent donald maass, who believed in this book and helped me bring it to fruition. finally, i must thank the readers, the geeks and the imagineers who inspired this book. cory doctorow san francisco september -- ================= about the author: ================= cory doctorow is outreach coordinator for the electronic frontier foundation, www.eff.org, and maintains a personal site at www.craphound.com. he is the co-editor of the popular weblog boing boing at www.boingboing.net, with more than , visitors a month. he won the john w. campbell award for best new writer at the hugo awards. born and raised in toronto, he now lives in san francisco. he enjoys using google to look up interesting facts about long walks on the beach. -- ============================= other books by cory doctorow: ============================= a place so foreign and eight more - short story collection, forthcoming from four walls eight windows in fall , with an introduction by bruce sterling essential blogging, o'reilly and associates, - with rael dornfest, j. scott johnson, shelley powers, benjamin trott and mena g. trott the complete idiot's guide to publishing science fiction, alpha books, - co-written with karl schroeder -- ========================== machine-readable metadata: ========================== <rdf:rdf xmlns="http://web.resource.org/cc/" xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/ . /" xmlns:rdf="http://www.w .org/ / / -rdf-syntax-ns#"> <work rdf:about="http://craphound.com/down"> <dc:title>down and out in the magic kingdom</dc:title> <dc:date> - - </dc:date> <dc:description>a novel by cory doctorow: jules is a young man barely a century old. he's lived long enough to see the cure for death and the end of scarcity, to learn ten languages and compose three symphonies...and to realize his boyhood dream of taking up residence in disney world. disney world! the greatest artistic achievement of the long&# ;ago twentieth century. now in the care of a network of volunteer "ad&# ;hocs" who keep the classic attractions running as they always have, enhanced with only the smallest high&# ;tech touches. now, though, it seems the "ad hocs" are under attack. a new group has taken over the hall of the presidents and is replacing its venerable audioanimatronics with new, immersive direct&# ;to&# ;brain interfaces that give guests the illusion of being washington, lincoln, and all the others. for jules, this is an attack on the artistic purity of disney world itself. worse: it appears this new group has had jules killed. this upsets him. (it's only his fourth death and revival, after all.) now it's war: war for the soul of the magic kingdom, a war of ever&# ;shifting reputations, technical wizardry, and entirely unpredictable outcomes. bursting with cutting&# ;edge speculation and human insight, down and out in the magic kingdom reads like neal stephenson meets nick hornby: a coming&# ;of&# ;age romantic comedy and a kick&# ;butt cybernetic tour de force. </dc:description> <dc:creator><agent> <dc:title>cory doctorow</dc:title> </agent></dc:creator> <dc:rights><agent> <dc:title>cory doctorow</dc:title> </agent></dc:rights> <dc:type rdf:resource="http://purl.org/dc/dcmitype/text" /> <license rdf:resource="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/ . " /> </work> <license rdf:about="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/ . "> <requires rdf:resource="http://web.resource.org/cc/attribution" /> <permits rdf:resource="http://web.resource.org/cc/reproduction" /> <permits rdf:resource="http://web.resource.org/cc/distribution" /> <prohibits rdf:resource="http://web.resource.org/cc/commercialuse" /> <requires rdf:resource="http://web.resource.org/cc/notice" /> </license> </rdf:rdf> eof the phantom ship by captain frederick marryat london mdcccxcvi contents chapter i chapter ii chapter iii chapter iv chapter v chapter vi chapter vii chapter viii chapter ix chapter x chapter xi chapter xii chapter xiii chapter xiv chapter xv chapter xvi chapter xvii chapter xviii chapter xix chapter xx chapter xxi chapter xxii chapter xxiii chapter xxiv chapter xxv chapter xxvi chapter xxvii chapter xxviii chapter xxix chapter xxx chapter xxxi chapter xxxii chapter xxxiii chapter xxxiv chapter xxxv chapter xxxvi chapter xxxvii chapter xxxviii chapter xxxix chapter xl chapter xli chapter xlii prefatory note _the phantom ship_ is the most notable of the three novels constructed by marryat on an historic basis, and like its predecessor in the same category, _snarleyyow_, depends largely for its interest on the element of _diablerie_, which is very skilfully manipulated. here, however, the supernatural appearances are never explained away, and the ghostly agencies are introduced in the spirit of serious, if somewhat melodramatic, romance. marryat's personal experience enabled him, with little research, to produce a life-like picture of old dutch seamanship, and his powers in racy narrative have transformed the vanderdecken legend into a stirring tale of terror. the plot cannot be called original, but it is more carefully worked out and, from the nature of the material at hand, more effective than most of marryat's own. he has put life into it, moreover, by the creation of some genuine characters, designed for nobler ends than to move the machinery. amine, indeed, as mr hannay points out, "is by far his nearest approach to an acceptable heroine." her romantic and curiously superstitious disposition is admirably restrained by strength of will and true courage. the scenes of the inquisition by which she meets her death are forcibly described. philip vanderdecken is a very respectable hero; daring, impetuous, and moody, without being too improbably capable. the hand of destiny lends him a dignity of which he is by no means unworthy. krantz, the faithful friend, belongs to a familiar type, but the one-eyed pilot is quite sufficiently weird for the part he has to play. for the rest we have the usual exciting adventures by sea and land; the usual "humours," in this case certainly not overdone. the miser dr poots; the bulky kloots, his bear, and his supercargo; barentz and his crazy lady-love the _vrow katerina_; and the little portuguese commandant provide the reader with a variety of good-natured entertainment. it was an act of doubtful wisdom, perhaps, to introduce a second group of spirits from the hartz mountains, but the story of the weir-wolves is told simply, without any straining after effect. the general success, however, is marred by certain obvious failures in detail. the attempt to produce an historic flavour by making the characters, during their calmer moments, talk in would-be old english is more amusing than culpable; but the author's philosophy of the unseen, as expounded by amine or krantz, is both weak and tiresome, and his religious discourses, coloured by prejudice against the romanists, are conventional and unconvincing. the closing scene savours of the sunday-school. but these faults are not obtrusive, and the novel as a whole must take a high place among its author's second-best. _the phantom ship_ appeared in _the new monthly magazine_, , . it is here reprinted from the first edition, in three volumes. henry colburn, . r.b.j. chapter i about the middle of the seventeenth century, in the outskirts 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 decorated, 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 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 furniture, 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, which 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 possessed much beauty: there were still the regular outlines, 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-headed, 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 determination, and as he carelessly swung his legs, and whistled an air in an emphatic manner, it was impossible not to form 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 van brennen 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 thoughtful, 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?" enquired 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 that chamber, and why has it been so long shut up? either i 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; gradually 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. "oh! 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 vanderdecken, who will pay me?" "pay you! my uncle will, directly that he comes home." "your uncle de skipper van brennen: 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." "but, mr philip, i cannot come, now i recollect; i have to see the child of the burgomaster at terneuse," replied mynheer poots. "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-bye, 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 do 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 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 poots, 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 van brennen 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 administered, 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 poots, "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, mournfully. "and you will pay me, mynheer vanderdecken?" continued 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, and 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 to crush mynheer poots, who retreated to the corner. "i did not mean until your mother was buried," said poots, 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 slumbered 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, o, 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 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 anyone 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 rained 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. "o 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 perplexed and astounded, that he could make no reply. a silence of some minutes ensued, when, no longer able to beat 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;--o 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 with only part of his earnings, and one more voyage would have made his fortune. o! 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 dreary 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 re-opened. 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 midnight, 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 had a painful, horrible foreboding; when, of a sudden, the windows and window-shutters were all blown in, the light was extinguished, 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 if it were noon-day. fear would 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 perceived that a cold (o how cold!) and dripping hand was clasped in mine. this reassured me, and i forgot the supernatural 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 thoughtful and unhappy. 'william--william,' cried i! 'speak, vanderdecken, speak to your dear catherine.' "'i will,' replied he, solemnly, 'for my time is short.' "'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 yet 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 murderer. 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, 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 flew 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 my 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 eyelids, 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 remained." 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 proceeded to examine it. it was not locked; the doors swung open, and drawer after drawer was examined, but philip discovered 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 on his knees busily employed forcing out the panel, when a 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 or 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--" "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, i would indeed--i could 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--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." 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 poots; 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 recollect 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 setting of the relic, which was in 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 sum. 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 was 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; at length, to his horror, he beheld philip vanderdecken at a 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 poots 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 step of philip gain upon him, and he sprang and leaped in his agony. nearer and nearer still the step, 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 story were too high for anyone 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 of disease and death. what his establishment consisted of 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 poots in person, if he were at home, and if not, there was no reply to the most importunate 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 sufficient to recover his relic without having recourse to violence. so he called out in a loud voice:-- "mynheer poots, 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 poots, but the little miser had recovered from his fright, and, thinking himself secure, could not make up his mind to surrender 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, indulged 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 fagots and logs of wood, until the door was 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 white, her chin dimpled, her ruby 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 beauteous 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 every 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 beating 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 return." philip waited several minutes, lost in thought and admiration: so fair a creature in the house of mynheer poots! who could she be? while thus ruminating, he 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 take up the relic which lay at his feet. she would have retired from the window without reply, but philip spoke again-- "stop, lady, stop one moment, until i beg your forgiveness for my wild, foolish act. i swear by this sacred relic," continued he, taking it from the ground and raising it to his lips, "that had i known that any unoffending person had been in 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 occasioned, and then i will depart." "no, no; don't trust him," said mynheer poots, 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. chapter iii the discovery of the beautiful daughter of mynheer poots 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 poots. 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 expression, her silver voice, and the words which she had uttered; but her pleasing image was soon chased away by the recollection 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 poots, 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 excitement, 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 interrupted, 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 forgetfulness. 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. if this buoyant feeling had not been planted in our nature, 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!" "not 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 reflection. it would be but time thrown away, when one is resolved as i am." 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 the resolution of philip more than the previous gloom and darkness had done; and with the candle in his hand, he retreated hastily into the kitchen to re-summon 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 poots, 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 mantel-piece 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 doors 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, in 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 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 gradually recovered its regular motion, beat more quickly; but he made the effort, and it was over. at first he examined the walls, against which were hung swords and pistols of various sorts, but chiefly 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 implements 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 beneath--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 imagination. 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 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 indifference, 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 farthest 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 considerable 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 dream scared thee to penury and want, with all this wealth in thy possession?" philip replaced the sacks, and locked up the cupboards, after having taken out of one, already half emptied, a few pieces for his immediate wants. his attention was next directed to the buffets above, which, with one of the keys, he opened; he found that they contained china, silver flagons, and cups of considerable value. the locks were again turned, and the bunch of keys thrown upon the table. the sudden possession of so much wealth added to the conviction, 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 on 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 ourselves, 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 must have been so, for see here, lying on the floor, is the embroidery, 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 and 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 persuaded 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 anticipations: 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. "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 mission 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 composed. "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 remembered that that one was his father; and that it was 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 mused a short time; he was once more the daring 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, farewell. "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, o pardon my presumption." philip threw himself forward on his face, with his lips to the sacred symbol. the sun went down, and twilight gradually disappeared; 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 concealed. 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 mistaken 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?" "o yes," replied the others. "well, then," replied the one who had stipulated for mynheer 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." "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 everyone 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 remembered 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 me this morning that what i state is true." 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 poots 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 overheard, 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, i 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, said you, sir?" "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 did assail. i thank you--thank you kindly, sir--but dare 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. oh! 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 in her right hand, the colour in her cheeks varying--now flushing red, and again deadly pale. her left hand was down by her side, and in it she held a pistol half concealed. philip perceived this precaution on her part but took no notice of it; he wished to reassure her. "maiden!" said he, not entering, "if you still have doubts--if you think you have been ill-advised in giving me admission--there is yet time to close the door against me: but for your own sake i entreat you not. before the moon is up, the robbers will be here. with my life i will protect you, if you will but trust me. who indeed could injure one like you?" 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 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 mantel-piece 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 prepared. 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." "no, no," replied philip; "you might be hurt." "i may. but think you i will remain here idly, when i 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 other 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 with 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 distinguish 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 attempted stratagem. they knocked, and as there was no reply, they continued to knock louder and louder: not meeting with success they held another consultation, 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 prevents the taking away of life, except from stern necessity; and this feeling made him withhold his fire until hostilities had actually commenced. he now levelled one of the carbines at the head of the robber nearest to the door, who was busy examining 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 to. 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 arms 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 fire-arms 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." "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 fire-arms 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. in a few minutes mynheer poots was more coherent. "my daughter!" exclaimed he--"my daughter! where 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 of 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 door were quite dead. the others, who had seized upon mynheer 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 recollection, and a shade passed over his countenance. "long and happily--no, no," muttered he, with an involuntary shake of the head. "and i must thank you," said amine, looking inquiringly in philip's face. "o, 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." "i repeat to you, amine," said philip, "that i have thousands 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 man, 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 made him restless and confused. he longed for repose, but he knew that for him there was no rest. he had his forebodings--he perceived in the vista of futurity a long-continued 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 disappearance 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 satisfactorily 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 pistol from his bosom. he turned round and beheld amine. "and that pistol was intended for me," said amine, smiling, repeating philip's words of the night before. "for you, amine?--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 proprietor 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 rarity, 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." "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 safe. 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, good-will. 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." "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 ungrateful 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 feelings 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 death-bed." "there must have been some potent reasons for not opening 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." "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," continued 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 not 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." "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 my 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 indiscriminate 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 fortunately 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 middleburgh, and from thence removed to this place. such is the history of my life, philip." "and does your father still hold the mahomedan faith, amine?" "i know not. i think he holds no faith whatever: at least he hath taught me none. his god is gold." "and yours?" "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 leading alike to heaven. yours is the christian faith, philip. is it the true one? but everyone 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 obligation 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 removed 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 conversation 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. chapter vi "this, 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 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. "i 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, _we_ 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 grateful. amine came in with the breakfast, and their eyes spoke more than their lips could have done; and philip sat down to his meal with less of sorrow and gloom upon his brow. "mynheer poots," 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-bye--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 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 poots?" 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 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 poots, 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." "o 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 rounding 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 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 poots 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! you know i love the very ground you tread upon, yet i dare not ask thee to wed to misery." "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, o 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, and 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 happiness 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. "'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? o! 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, your 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 amine 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 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 departure, 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-whispering sort of voice. the party who thus addressed amine was a little meagre personage, dressed in the garb of the dutch seamen of the 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 eye-lid 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 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 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 mantel-piece--"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! 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 hospitality: 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 little man 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 penetrate the fatal chamber--again was it obscure. the embroidery 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 prepared, and proud that he who is selected for such a task is my husband." amine paused. "you cannot surely have been mistaken, philip?" "no! amine, i have not been mistaken, either in the 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 arm 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." "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 preparations 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 emotions 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, o refuse me not, if it be possible, to appear to me when dead. i shall fear no storm, no bursting open of the window. o no! i shall hail the presence even of your spirit. once more; let me but see you--let me be assured that you are dead--and then i shall know that i have 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, imprinted 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. 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 inquisition; 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 arrangements, 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 dying 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 not 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 by force. for a long time no private company ventured to oppose them, and the trade was not of that apparent value to induce any government 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 discover 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 pretensions. 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, , after a voyage which occupied him nearly three years; bringing home with him great riches, and having made most favourable arrangements with the king of the molucca islands. his success was followed up by cavendish and others in . the english east india company, in the meanwhile, received their first charter from the government, and had now been with various success carrying on the trade for upwards 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 productions 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 consequence was, that, while asserting, and fighting for, their independence, they had also fitted out expeditions to india. they were successful; and in 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 , 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 ambassador, 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 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. however, in , 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 _ter 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 _ter schilling_, which lay at single anchor, surrounded by the other vessels composing the indian fleet. the captain, whose name was kloots, 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 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 accomplished? 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 complexion 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 by 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 implements 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 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 description) that the dangers of a long voyage were not a little increased 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 standing 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 eye, 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 stockings, 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 quite straight) was, at the tip, fiery red from frequent application to his bottle of schnapps, and the heat of a small pipe which seldom left his lips, except for _him_ 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 otherwise 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." "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 flowing breeze, without starting tack or sheet, or having to take your pipe out of your mouth." "what port 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 careful 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 philip's brow. "i was once five years away, and was unfortunate, for i brought 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 of 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 discharge 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 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 janz von stroom, the supercargo of the hon. company, appointed to the good ship _ter schilling_. as he looked round him, surrounded at a respectful distance 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 supercargo) was pulled with great violence. "what can that be?" said mynheer kloots (who was forward), taking the pipe out of his mouth. "mynheer vanderdecken, 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 table! o dear! o dear!" continued the supercargo, evidently 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 appearance of mynheer kloots put an end to his difficulty. "what is the matter, mynheer?" said the captain. "o! 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! 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 a bear! mynheer kloots, the animal must be thrown overboard immediately." "nay, nay; i cannot throw overboard an animal that i hold in much affection, mynheer von stroom; but he shall not trouble you." "then, captain kloots, you will have to deal with the company, to whom i 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 head-quarters 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 supercargo; he had no wish to sail alone, and the fear of this contingency 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 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, mynheer kloots recovered his good humour. chapter ix we 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 himself; 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 he 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. 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 bestowing 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. "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." "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 forward 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?" "o! 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?" "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 confirmation. oh, 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 hottentot 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 instructions 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 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 topmast 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." 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_. "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 informed 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 intelligence, 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 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 lord! 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 company's honourable 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 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, when he 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 entrance. 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, 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 variance 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." "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. "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 something 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 distant; but, although it was a perfect calm, she was to all appearance buffeting in a violent gale, plunging and lifting over a surface that was smooth as glass, now careening to her bearing, 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 fore-sail, a storm stay-sail, 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 boatswain's pipes, the creaking of the ship's timbers, and the complaining 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!_" chapter x the sudden gloom which had succeeded to the pale light had the effect of rendering every object still more indistinct 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 towards 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, everyone 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. "what has the name of vanderdecken to do with it?" observed kloots. "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 schriften; "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 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 moanings, proclaimed too surely that it had been awakened up to wrath, and was gathering its strength for destruction. 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, mr hillebrant." the lightning now darted athwart the firmament, and the thunder pealed. "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 fore-staysail, 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 unfortunate--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 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 confused, 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 concussion 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 disappeared, 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 larboard 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 them 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, he 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 _ter schilling_ flew before the gale; 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 and 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 lamentable 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 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 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 struggling,--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 hardly 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 was making for the shore, and who soon dragged him clear 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 fragments 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 whirling, 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 burning 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 something 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 assagai in his hand, stood by his side; over his shoulder 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 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 sand-hills 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 produce, though not exactly what philip required, a small quantity of dirty water from a calabash, which, 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 exception 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 countenance, 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 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 out the lock and hinges to him, and then set off, followed by philip, across the sand-hills. in about an hour they arrived at the kraal, consisting of low huts covered with skins, and were met by the women and children, who 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 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 women, 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, he 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 found 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 again 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 all 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 contemplation 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 permitted, 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, indistinctly 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 forehead with both hands, and again earnestly gazed on him. "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! o god! i thank thee," replied amine, at last. "i thought it was your spirit, philip. o 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. "o 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: "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? o 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 well 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. o 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. "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 mynheer poots. "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 poots, 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 poots could only be led to suppose that he took 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 doctor believe that he had taken his wealth with him. mynheer poots did not renew the conversation, 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. "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 appearance of his father's ship, and the fatal wreck. amine felt that more dangers and difficulties were preparing 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 appearance 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 appointment to the _batavia_, a fine vessel of about 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 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 circumstance, 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 something which will do him good. i shall charge you nothing, philip--nothing at all." "i do not feel so very unwell, mynheer poots," 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 foreboding. 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 of mynheer poots, to be given in a tumbler of warm wine. mynheer poots 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 poots 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 poots 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 poots, 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 poots then wished him good-night. "do not leave him, amine, i will see all right," said mynheer poots, as he left the room. and amine, who had intended to go down for the candle left in the parlour, remained 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-bye." 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, that i 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 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 apparently 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 righteousness hath punished him!" exclaimed amine; "but, o! 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, where 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 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 bedside, 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!" 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?" "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 summoned 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. "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, rendered him of importance. had 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 writings 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 amine, mournfully. "but here are some printed papers, philip!" philip examined them, and found that they were acknowledgments 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 everything was collected, the treasure appeared to be of great value. "amine, my love, you have indeed brought me an unexpected 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 penuriously 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, 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. 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--" "o 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 their 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 philip had not been long on board, ere he found that they were not likely to have a very comfortable passage; for the _batavia_ was chartered to convey a large detachment of troops to ceylon and java, for the purpose of recruiting and strengthening the company's forces at those places. she was to quit the fleet off 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 time 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 to 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-bye, 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. "psha! they must die somewhere, and if they die a little sooner, what matter? life is a commodity to be bought and sold like any other. we send 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, 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 commands 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 the _batavia_ and the remainder of the fleet were ready for sea. it would be difficult to analyse the feelings of philip vanderdecken on this his second embarkation. his mind was so continually 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 his 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 embarked, 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 perceptible. 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 _batavia_ 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 _batavia_ 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 board 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 meets, may be true, but not that i bring with me the disaster of meeting her. heaven i thank thee! now i can prosecute my search without remorse." 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 discharged." 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 situation. 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 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 time, 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 arms 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 had 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 captain of the sunken vessel, after he had been sitting a short time in the cabin with philip and the captain of the _batavia_; "we saw the fiend or devil's ship, as they call her, but three days before." "what! the _flying dutchman_, as they name her?" asked 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 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 sight. 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, rubbing 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 a dozen cables' length, as we could perceive by the horizon on each side of it. 'hark, sir!' said the mate--'they are speaking 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--" "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 prosecute 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 pleasing 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 discussion." "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?" "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 appearance 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 _batavia_ 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 gangway 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 afterwards embarked for china, his original destination, but was not permitted to arrive there; he died on his passage, and thus closed his pure and holy life. after his death, notwithstanding the many obstacles thrown in our way by the priests of 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, the 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 baptised. 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 immediate 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 , men, but of this the emperor was not aware, and he sent a force of about , 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 , men. on the other hand, the emperor, perceiving that his troops had been destroyed, ordered new levies and raised a force of , 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 accommodation 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 , 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 , christians were destroyed; and all this slaughter, my son, was occasioned 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 returning 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 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 continued 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 "far 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 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 land, and death may not have spared even one so young and fair." "let us haste 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 tomb." father seysen then led philip to the side of the bed, and withdrew the curtain. amine 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 impetuous, 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?" "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 has 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 accompanied 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 disappointment, anxiety, and grief, at finding her lying emaciated, changed, corrupted with disease--her mind overthrown--her eyes unconscious of his presence--her existence hanging 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 impetuously 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 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 physician 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 awaking 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. "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 will 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 prepared, 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 which direction, he met many with whom he had been acquainted, and from whom he had received condolence at his supposed bereavement, and congratulations when they learnt from him that the danger was over; and from them he also learnt how fatal had been the pestilence. not one-third of the inhabitants of terneuse and the surrounding country remained alive, and those who had recovered were in a state of exhaustion which prevented them from returning to their accustomed occupations. they had combated 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 consequence 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 interposition. 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 all 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," observed 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 that she must pass during your absence, and how much she must require the consolation and 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 bedside. 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 occurrence. 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 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 importance. we will admit that the whole 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 indirectly 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 permitted 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 appearance of the vessel may be permitted. so far we are justifiable 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 possibly 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 high, 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, and 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 supposing 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 yourself 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 mathias 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 may relieve him from his state of torture. at all events, if they decide for 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 seysen. 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 perceived. 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 suspense 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 six 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 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 perceived how often the cloud was upon his brow; she knew too well the cause, and constantly did she recommence her arguments and caresses, until philip forgot that there was aught but amine in the world. one morning, as they were seated upon a green bank 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?" "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 your heart, and you _shall_!" "i shall?" "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 never say that which is not. i tell you, that, if you choose, you shall dream upon it." "and to what good, amine? if you have power to make 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 i 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 dream, as the patriarchs were of old; but 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 becomes my servant, and not my master; he is permitted by 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 i 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 ourselves 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 permitted 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." "then, amine, i have made up my mind--i will dream: for at present my mind is racked by contending and perplexing 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 stock. 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 reasonings, 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 philacteries that were once worn by the jewish nation, and were similarly applied. one of them she gently 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 off, 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 sentence. amine, too, tired with watching, slumbered and was happy. father 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. "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 hath 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 collected 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 aware 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, 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 were 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 life 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, and 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. "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. 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. i 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 this 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, _i_ 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." "i have: say, then, amine, what may be your wish?" "o! 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 wait 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 for 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 decision 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 head, and, to his amazement, beheld the (supposed to be drowned) mate of the _ter 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 schriften, "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 i 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?" 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, mournfully. "alas! 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 pangs; 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 katerina_, 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 command 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 you may remember that i exacted a promise from you, on this very bank 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 thing--that, dear philip, 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 i 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 incomprehensible. 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." "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 i will go with you. after your labours 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 form; 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--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 meditations 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 reappearance 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. that 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 out the mystery,--a mystery which i acknowledge to 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 kindness, and stated his intention of returning to lisbon by the first opportunity that might offer. in a few days amine 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 _vrow 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 _vrow 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 seaworthiness. 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 _vrow 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. "oh; 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, apparently 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 supposition that he was a little flighty, even if his conduct had not fully proved the fact. no sooner were the ecstacies of the captain over than philip introduced himself to him, and informed him of his appointment. "oh! you are the first mate of the _vrow katerina_. 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 vrow 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 katerina_. 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 receive on board 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 convinced 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, i 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. good-will 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." chapter xvi we must leave amine to her solitude, and follow the fortunes 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 _vrow 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 _vrow 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 _vrow_, 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 _vrow 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 _vrow katerina_ proved to sail even more slowly than before. "when we are so _very_ close-hauled," observed mynheer barentz, "the _vrow_ 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 _vrow 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 _vrow 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 desperately in love, he could see no fault in his mistress. but others were not so blind, and 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 _vrow katerina_ found herself alone, labouring 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 vanderdecken, 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 sailor 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--top-gallant-sail, royals, flying-jib, and every stitch of canvas which could be set in a light breeze. the waves were running mountains high, bearing each minute the _vrow katerina_ down to the gunwale: and the ship seen appeared not to be affected by the tumultuous 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 katerina_, 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 _vrow katerina_. it was madness 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 board 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 katerina_," 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, 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 back." "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 barentz. "a mutiny on board of the _vrow katerina_? impossible! the _vrow katerina_ 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 time that he blamed the seamen for their panic, pointed out to him the necessity of compliance, and mynheer barentz at last consented. the helm was put up, the sails trimmed, and the _vrow katerina_ 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 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 everyone 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 concerning her: but of this, i assure you--that i am fully persuaded than 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 a continuance of fine weather." "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 leant 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 destroyed 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 embarked 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 by him. "by the heaven above us! vanderdecken, you have prophesied 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 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 _vrow 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 appearance 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. "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. "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 excellent: 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 between 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 receive 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 hoses were 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 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 prevented by the presence of mind shown by philip and the second mate, for the captain was a cypher:--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 increased. the smoke and steam now burst through the interstices 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 melancholy 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 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 seamen 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 everyone--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 apparently 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. 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 forgotten. 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 but 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 side 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 everyone 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, notwithstanding 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. 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 unnecessary, 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 blow-pipe; at the same time, the flames burst through all the after-ports of the main-deck, and those remaining on board found themselves encircled 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 themselves 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) have 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 mizen-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 was 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; 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 sunk 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 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 burn beautifully--nobly? my poor _vrow 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 necessary for the preservation of so many individuals, of whom more than sixty were women and children, who, without any nourishment, 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 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 success; 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 near 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 recommenced a debate. the increased swell and 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, 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 waves, 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 themselves. the spars of the raft still close together, were 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 sank 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, till warm with the heat of the sun, and forgetting that they had neither eaten nor drank 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 consultation, and were then glad to follow the example of the 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 sand-hills, 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 was 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 resumed. so tired and exhausted were the men, that their 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. 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 most 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 landed, 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 considerate 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." "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 the 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 corroborated 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 katerina_. philip, krantz, and the seamen embarked, but captain barentz 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 _vrow katerina_, 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 burnt! she went out of the world like a phoenix, as she was. no! no! i will be faithful to her--i 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 commission, 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 northward 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 contrary 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 to his wife, as well as his narrative of the loss of the _vrow katerina_ 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_, which the admiral insisted on retaining; and the brig, having received the admiral's despatches, was then permitted to continue her voyage. perhaps there is nothing more trying to the seaman's feelings, than being unexpectedly forced to recommence another series of trials, at the very time when they anticipate repose from the 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 unmanageable 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 commodore 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 _vrow katerina_, he ordered him to go on board of 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 captain; for, by philip's narrative, the admiral perceived at once that they were both good officers and brave men. chapter xviii the 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 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 pendant--to which philip was appointed; the _zuyder zee_ of twenty; the _young frau_ of twelve, and a ketch of four guns, called the _schevelling_. 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 avenhorn, 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 immediately 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, captain 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 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 now either adopt, or by refusing it be prevented from taking the steps so necessary for the preservation 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 in 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 complying with the admiral's orders, as it would have been sacrificing 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 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 vegetables 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 assisting 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 company, 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 forwarding 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 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. fortunately, the weather was rough for the next two days, and it was not until the third that the governor made his appearance. 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 instantaneously checked, as the scurvy, if the remedy can be procured. 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 provisions 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. 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 arrival the admiral held a summary court-martial, proving to them by his instructions that he was so warranted 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 appointment of second in command, and the commodore's pendant, 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 the 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 _towns_. there they sat, close together (the whole area 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 apparent 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 conjectures 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 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' useless 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 punishment 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 advancement, 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 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 of 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 by 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, _may_ 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 _dort_ 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 permitted him. when the boat's keel grazed the beach, he was ordered out. the boat shoved off, and the men were not permitted even to bid him farewell. the fleet, as philip 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 commodore 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 ship, 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 of 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 terra 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 enquiry as to when he passed, but could not discover; 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 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 proprietor, 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 the 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 understand 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 beheld 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, 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 extended 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 presented 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." philip turned round again to where the admiral's ship was on shore, and started back, as he beheld a sight even more dreadful 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 breathlessly 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 hung, 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 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 _dort_. he shall not go on board. we will stand by our captain to the last." "silence, men! silence!" cried philip. "you must be aware, sir," said he to the officer, "that in the cruel punishment 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 preserve 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, ship-wrecked on a barren coast, with provisions insufficient for any lengthened stay, no prospect of succour, and little of escape. as the commodore truly prophesied, many more are likely to perish as well as him--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 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 judgment 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 them up, they refused to go upon deck; and the officers, who were equally disgusted with the admiral's conduct, 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 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 circumstances 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, or did he wish to refuse 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 replenishing 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, although the men had clambered over the hills to a considerable 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 provisions; 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 krantz 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 communication 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 be in the straits, he fell in 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 intoxicated, 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 board. the bodies of the admiral and commodore were buried where they lay, and the next morning the _dort_ was under weigh, 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 inhabitants on the beach, they had not fallen in with any vessels belonging to the spaniards. aware that if he met 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 anticipation 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 st marie, where, though he knew it was in possession of the spaniards, he yet hoped to be able to procure refreshments 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 leant 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 xebeque, 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 boats' 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. that they themselves were among the passengers, and trusted that the vessel and cargo would be immediately released, 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 provisions, 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 four 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 xebeque, 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; "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 xebeque 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 despatched against it. they further learnt that some of the supposed casks of flour contained 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 that 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 would 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 knowledge 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 intelligence 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 every 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 batavia, when a 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 it 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 off the gun, and, before he could be prevented, had buried his knife in the heart of the negro. "maldetto, 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 was from his information that they had 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 to the negro, and carried him off to the taffrail. there was a heavy plunge, and he disappeared under the eddying 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_ immediately made sail, stood on to the corvette, which she crippled with three or four broadsides, then tacked, and fetched alongside of the frigate, whose lee-guns were still impeded with the wreck of the foremast. the two vessels now lay head and stern, within ten feet of each other, and the action recommenced 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 together. then raged the conflict; the spaniards attempting to pass their 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 fighting 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 putting 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 beat 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 _dort_ 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 in such a crippled state, and the nations were not actually at war, it would be advisable to release her with all 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 communicated 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 we must return to amine, who is seated on the mossy bank where she and philip conversed when they were interrupted 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 and 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 time to the instruction of 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 nature, 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 knowledge, 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 forward 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 on 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 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 opportunity 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 charm 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 directions 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 distinguished. "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 charm; but, as the figure became more distinct, she perceived that it was father mathias, who was looking at her 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 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 anyone 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 perceiving 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; "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 profession--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, why 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 unholy? 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 charms, father, i meant not what you mean; i simply would have said a remedy. if a knowledge of certain wonderful herbs, which, properly combined will form a specific to ease the suffering wretch--an art well known unto my mother, and which i now would fain recall--if that knowledge, or a wish to regain that knowledge, be unholy, then are you 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 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 closed, "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, and 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. "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 circumstance; 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 the 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 appearance, and amine was happy. the directors were, of course, highly satisfied with philip's conduct, and 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 agreement, was purchased by philip out of the funds which he had in the hands of the company. he had now five months of quiet and repose to pass away, previous to his once more trusting to the elements; and this time, as it was agreed, he had to make arrangements on board for the reception of amine. 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 recover them." "why so, amine? this must not be. it is, as the good father said, '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 permits to one, he will to another; nay, aught that i can do is but with his permission." "yes, amine, so does he permit 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 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 tons, newly launched, and pierced for twenty-four guns. two more months passed away, during which philip superintended the fitting and loading 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 determined 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 equipment 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?" "in araby we do; and 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 frame 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 mast-head 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 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 a 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 proceeded 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, and 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 squall, 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 retreated so as to make an opening, when philip and amine, to their astonishment and horror, recognised their old acquaintance, 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 forbodes 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?" "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 must you have discontinued 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 if 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 rather what this ship affords. i long now to talk with him, to see if i can produce any effect upon his ice-like 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 reported 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 anything 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 will go to your duty; till then, i will see that you want for nothing." "nor i, my good fellow. come to me if you do, and i will be your help," said amine. "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, looking 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 breathless 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, borne down 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 subservient, 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 inclined 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 ever working 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 power given to us, it is right to use it." "yes, most certainly, for good--but not 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 supernatural 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 calling 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 this, and the message sent by it, prove our creed is true?" "i have thought much of it, philip. at first it startled me almost into a belief, but even your own priests helped to undeceive 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-fiend; 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 required, 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 good-will." "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 knowledge?" "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 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 good-will 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 appeared 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 forbode 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 farther 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 farther." "who can avert it? if i take your counsel, still was it 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 someway interwoven with that of my husband? i feel that thou hast." "why think you so, lady?" "for many reasons: twice you have summoned him, twice 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 knew 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?" "i am not _his_ enemy, fair lady." "you are not his enemy--why then did you 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 competence 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, pass 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 sufferings, if you would be separated from him and die a cruel death, then let him keep it. i can read futurity, and such must be the destiny of both. lady, consider well, i 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 the 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 offers 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 our 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 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 promised 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, my all 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 conversation 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. chapter xxii the _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 convulsion 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 gunwale 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 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 foresail, 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 in 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 atmosphere was of a murky 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 lost in one dark gray 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 sprung 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 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 that 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 ready to catch at the ropes of the other vessel and climb on board of her. amine who had been surprised 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 _utrecht_, 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 passed 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 astounded by the marvellous 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 way through; she beheld the seamen on board of her coolly leaning over her gunwale, as if deriding the destruction they had occasioned; she looked for vanderdecken 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 suddenly--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 appeared 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, mournfully; "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 feel ashamed of amine. no, philip, you will have no wailing, no expression of despair from amine'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 un-nerve 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 prepare 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 bewildered--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 seamen. "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, 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 days 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 had been awakened by the same cause, running up undressed--another shock succeeded, and the ship careened to port. philip then knew that the ship was on shore. the thickness of the night prevented them from ascertaining where they were, but the lead was thrown over the side, and they found that they were lying on shore on a sand bank, with not more than fourteen feet water on the deepest side, and that they were broadside on, with a strong current pressing them further up on the bank; indeed the current ran like a mill-race, and each minute they were swept into shallower water. on examination they found that the ship had dragged her anchor, which, with the cable, was still taut from the starboard bow, but this did not appear to prevent the vessel from being swept further 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 sand bank, 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 further 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 water 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 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 everything 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 perceived that they were swept further on the bank. night came on before they quitted their toil, and then a fresh breeze sprung 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 which 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 commenced 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 on board, which it was folly to leave, and that they wished to carry as much as they could away with them. as this intimation 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 sand bank 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 had 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 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, therefore, 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 uninhabited 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 langridge which she poured upon them wounded 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's_ 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 to 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 boat, the people had carried with them everything that was valuable, instead of firing at the raft, immediately gave chase to the boats. the sweeps were now out, and the proa flew over the smooth water like a sea-bird, passed 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 winds 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. 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 consultation 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 boat, 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 embarked 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, now that it had length, than it would do if they reduced its dimensions 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 sprung 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 trees 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 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 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 perceived 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 rose, 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 remaining stock of water; they then sat down at the upper end of the raft with gloomy, 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 amine's secure retreat had been erected; he leant 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 it is 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." philip drank; it did relieve him, for the excitement of the day had pressed heavily on him. "thanks, amine--thanks, dearest! i feel better now.--good heaven! are there such fools as to value the dross of metal above one drop of water in a time of suffering and privation 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 on 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 her 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, increased 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 relied 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 they could divide between themselves the money which the others had secured, and by which they would double their 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 soon 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 council, 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 oneself, 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 amine. as philip had expected, many had been covered up and entangled by the falling of the sail, and their work was thereby made easier. some fell where they stood; others reeled back, and sunk 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 revenged, 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 would have been 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, and they shared out the portions of water, which would have been the allowance of their companions 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 good-will 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 anything else. the breeze now freshened, and they expected that, in two hours, they would run on the beach, but they were disappointed: the step of the mast gave 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 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 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 separated from her husband? in a state of bewilderment, she watched the other raft as the distance between them increased. 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 nought 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 guardful of life for my dear husband's sake." and amine threw herself on her resting-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. 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 good-will! 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 practised: 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 the 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 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 splendour--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; she 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 we 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 difficulty. the beach was shelving, of firm white sand, interspersed 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 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 only of krantz; for philip thought of nothing but his lost wife, and the seamen thought of nothing but of 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 something, 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 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 or 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, exhausted, 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 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 were 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 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 composed 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 men. 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 which might save their lives. he proposed to them each 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 whenever 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 proposed and acted upon was, to construct 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 manageable 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 not content with the money which they had--they were anxious for more. a portion of each party's wealth had been 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 thrown their weapons into the sea, and those he had saved, as well as the ammunition, he had secreted. blows and bloodshed, therefore, were continual, 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 themselves, 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 morning these three men were found lying strangled on the beach; the money had been redivided, and the gambling had recommenced with more vigour than ever. "how can this end?" exclaimed philip to krantz, as he looked upon the blackened countenances of the murdered men. "in the death of all," replied krantz. "we cannot prevent 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 perceived 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 passed through his body. "said i not so? but the treacherous villain shall not reap his reward," continued krantz, levelling the musket which he 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, without the means of obtaining his subsistence, he must have perished miserably and by inches, with all his money round him--that would have been torture indeed!" "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 the 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 seeking 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 they soon ran down it close to the beach. philip's eyes wandered in every direction to ascertain whether anything on the shore 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 anyone. 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 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," 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 mind and a weakened body. can anything be more absurd than 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 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 acquainted with. "now you know all," said philip with a deep sigh, as the narrative was concluded. "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 your 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 your doom on my own shoulders, were it only possible. is it not a splendid thought that you are summoned to so great a 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 hardships and dangers of a maritime life. if it ends in your death, what then? where else end our futile cravings, our continual 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 permitted. 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! what 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 peroquas 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 addressed 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 portuguese, 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 tidore 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.--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 some consequence. his dress was, to a certain degree, mahometan, 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 now 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 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," replied 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 requested," 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 xxviii when 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 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 interfered and bade him desist. the tidore people, also, who were friends with the portuguese, pointed out, that to save one of that nation would ensure 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 on shore 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 intercourse with the tidore people, who came there to exchange european finery and trash for the more useful productions of the island. the papoos woman carried amine into her hut, and there she lay for many days, wavering between life and death, carefully 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 papoos 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 parted, partly frizzled; a cloth round her waist, and a piece of faded yellow silk on her shoulders, was 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 amine was able, in the course of three weeks, to 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, was 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 unintelligble. 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 papoos 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 preferable 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 day 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 long compliment to her in portuguese, and was astonished that she did not make a 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 every 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 proceed 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 suffering to philip: the commandant, fully 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 to 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. it would be difficult to analyse the feelings of father mathias towards amine--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 _now_ 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 shewed 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. 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." amine made no answer. "thou art still 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--and 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 dismissed, and the prejudices of early years at once eradicated? i have thought much of what you have told me--have felt that much is true--that the tenets of your creed are god-like--is not that much? and yet you are not content. you would have blind acknowledgment, blind obedience--i were then an unworthy convert. we shall soon be in port, then teach me, and convince me, if you will; i am ready to examine and confess, but on conviction only. have patience, good father, and the time may come when i _may_ feel, what now i _do not_;--that yon bit of painted wood is a thing to bow down to and adore." notwithstanding this taunt at the close of this speech, there was so much truth in the observations of amine, that father mathias felt their power. as the wife of a catholic, he had been accustomed to view amine as one who had backslided from the church of rome--not as one who had been brought up in another creed. he now recalled to mind, that she had never yet been received into the church, for father seysen had not considered her as in a proper state to be admitted, and had deferred her baptism until he was satisfied of her full belief. "you speak boldly; but you speak as you feel, my child," replied father mathias after a pause. "we will, when we arrive at goa, talk over these things, and with the blessing of god, the new faith shall be made manifest to you." "so be it," replied amine. little did the priest imagine that amine's thoughts were at that moment upon a dream she had had at new guinea, in which her mother appeared, and revealed to her her magic arts--and that amine was longing to arrive at goa that she might practise them. every hour the gale increased, and the vessel laboured and leaked; the portuguese sailors were frightened, and invoked their saints. father mathias, and the other passengers, gave themselves up for lost, for the pumps could not keep the vessel free; and their cheeks blanched as the waves washed furiously over the vessel: they prayed and trembled. father mathias gave them absolution; some cried like children, some tore their hair, some cursed, and cursed the saints they had but the day before invoked. but amine stood unmoved; and as she heard them curse, she smiled in scorn. "my child," said father mathias, checking his tremulous voice that he might not appear agitated before one whom he saw so calm and unmoved amidst the roaring of the elements--"my child, let not this hour of peril pass away. before thou art summoned, let me receive thee into the bosom of our church--give thee pardon for thy sins, and certainty of bliss hereafter." "good father, amine is not to be frightened into belief, even if she feared the storm," replied she; "nor will she credit your power to forgive her sins, merely because she says, in fear, that which in her calm reason she might reject. if ever fear could have subjected me, it was when i was alone upon the raft--that was indeed a trial of my strength of mind, the bare recollection of which is, at this moment, more dreadful than the storm now raging, and the death which may await us. there is a god on high in whose mercy i trust--in whose love i confide--to whose will i bow. let him do his will." "die not, my child, in unbelief!" "father," replied amine, pointing to the passengers and seamen who were on the deck crying and wailing: "these are christians--these men have been promised by you, but now, the inheritance of perfect bliss. what is their faith, that it does not give them strength to die like men? why is it that a woman quails not, while they lie grovelling on the deck?" "life is sweet, my child--they leave their wives, their children, and they dread hereafter. who is prepared to die?" "i am," replied amine. "i have no husband--at least i fear i have no husband. for me life has no sweets; yet, one little hope remains--a straw to the sinking wretch. i fear not death, for i have nought to live for. were philip here, why, then indeed--but he is gone before me, and now to follow him is all i ask." "he died in the faith, my child--if you would meet him, do the same." "he never died like these," replied amine, looking with scorn at the passengers. "perhaps he lived not as they have lived," replied father mathias. "a good man dies in peace, and hath no fear." "so die the good men of all creeds, father," replied amine; "and in all creeds death is equally terrible to the wicked." "i will pray for thee, my child," said father mathias, sinking on his knees. "many thanks--thy prayers will be heard, even though offered for one like me," replied amine, who, clinging to the man-ropes, made her way up to the ladder, and gained the deck. "lost! signora, lost!" exclaimed the captain, wringing his hands as he crouched under the bulwark. "no!" replied amine, who had gained the weather side, and held on by a rope; "not lost this time." "how say you, signora?" replied the captain, looking with admiration at amine's calm and composed countenance. "how say you, signora?" "something tells me, good captain, that you will not be lost, if you exert yourselves--something tells it to me here," and amine laid her hand to her heart. amine had a conviction that the vessel would not be lost, for it had not escaped her observation that the storm was less violent, although, in their terror, this had been unnoticed by the sailors. the coolness of amine, her beauty, perhaps, the unusual sight of a woman so young, calm and confiding, when all others were in despair, had its due effect upon the captain and seamen. supposing her to be a catholic they imagined that she had had some warrant for her assertion, for credulity and superstition are close friends. they looked upon amine with admiration and respect, recovered their energies, and applied to their duties. the pumps were again worked; the storm abated during the night, and the vessel was, as amine had predicted, saved. the crew and passengers looked upon her almost as a saint, and talked of her to father mathias, who was sadly perplexed. the courage which she had displayed was extraordinary; even when he trembled, she showed no sign of fear. he made no reply, but communed with his own mind, and the result was unfavourable to amine. what had given her such coolness? what had given her the spirit of prophecy? not the god of the christians, for she was no believer. who then? and father mathias thought of her chamber at terneuse, and shook his head. chapter xxx we must now again return to philip and krantz, who had a long conversation upon the strange reappearance of schriften. all that they could agree upon was, that he should be carefully watched, and that they should dispense with his company as soon as possible. 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 seeing the peroqua, he had once more launched it and supported 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 schriften. 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 demanded 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 sarcasm, 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 palmetto 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 was the constant theme of remark of philip and krantz; their religion, as well as their dress, appeared to be a compound of the mahometan 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 ornament. 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 mahommedan custom, they were requested to be seated; and through the portuguese interpreters--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 had been wrecked. philip entered into a short detail, in which he stated that his wife had been separated from him, and was, he understood, in the hands of the portuguese factory 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 understand 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 command--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 mahommedan dresses, with turbans. these were welcome, for their own garments were sadly 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 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 extending 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 pineapple 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 proportionate 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 reduction 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 appeared rather to 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 palisades 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 at 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 well be perceived, as it was hidden by the high palisading which surrounded 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 were stationed; and another council of war was 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 following 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 palisades 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 increased, 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 ramparts 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, whom the attack had surprised, and for whose lives the portuguese seemed to care but little, for they paid no attention 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 expedition unknown to philip, made his appearance. "that won't do; you'll never take that fort, philip vanderdecken. 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 the 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 gunpowder 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 confused, 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 consultation 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 sprung 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 increased to a gale, and before they were clear of the n.e. 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 lowered, 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 supported 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 by nightfall. they were ushered into the presence of the commandant, 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 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 examination. 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 yet get away by bribing." "and i was thinking," rejoined 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?" "yes, indeed! signor." "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 ten of our own people. in the factory there were about a hundred of the natives, with some women and children; 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. "where did you get those dresses?" was the first interrogatory. "the natives, when they brought us prisoners from the island on which we had 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 sign 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 home to holland we might get into trouble. may i ask, signor commandant, why you wish for such 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 which calls." "i don't doubt--in fact--i'm sure, he must be dead by this time," replied krantz, drawing 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 incarceration; 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 then 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." "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 battlements in silence; after some time their reveries were disturbed by a person coming up to them with a "_buenos noctes, signor_." 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, signor, and i'm tired of it. i have a wife and children in oporto--that is, i _had_--but whether they are alive or not, who can tell?" "do you not expect to return and see them?" "return--signor! no portuguese soldier like me ever returns. we are enlisted for five years, and we lay our bones here." "that is hard indeed." "hard, signor," 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, signors," 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. "yes, signor, 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?" "o 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?" "yes, in a ship which called here. she must have been very glad to have got away, for our little commandant persecuted her all day long, and she evidently was grieving for her husband. do you know, signors, 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; recollect, 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 has 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 much relieved." "yes; but recollect you are in the power of your enemy. we must leave this place as quick 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 death would not occasion amine to marry this little withered piece of mortality." "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 vantreat--recollect that." "agreed," replied philip, who then turned away, as if willing to be left to his own thoughts. krantz perceived it, and laid down under the embrasure, and was soon fast asleep. chapter xxxii tired 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 upon the pavement. he rose, and found the little man rating the soldiers--threatening some with the dungeon, 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 apartment. 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 the 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 partake 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 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 them 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 consequences 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 has 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 flattery, 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, signors, we will drink her health. here's to the beautiful amine vanderdecken." "to the beautiful amine vanderdecken," cried krantz, tossing off his wine. "to the beautiful amine vanderdecken," followed philip. "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 doats upon me." "liar!" exclaimed philip. "how, signor! is that addressed to me?" cried the commandant, seizing his sword which lay on the table. "no, no," replied philip, recovering himself; "it was addressed 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 otherwise 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 commandant, 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." "you are right, and i beg her pardon for allowing such feelings or thoughts to have for one 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 the conversation upon his love for amine, and entering into a minute detail of all that had passed. krantz perceived that he was right in his opinion, and that amine 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 unintelligible. "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 very 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 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." "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 dare say 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 commission. 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 astonishment 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 commandant, 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 sailor was ordered in, and in a few minutes, who should make his appearance but their tormentor, the one-eyed schriften. on perceiving philip and krantz seated at the table he immediately 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 sprung 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, mynheer? 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 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 intelligent glance, as they descended the stairs to the dungeon. it was that of the soldier pedro. it told them that there 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 them in their dungeon. chapter xxxiii "thus are all our hopes wrecked," said philip, mournfully; "what chance have we now of escaping from this little tyrant?" "chances turn up," replied krantz; "at present, the prospect 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," added krantz; "as soon as the little man's fury is over." "which is--" "that, much 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 am convinced of, 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 no where 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 disappearance 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," observed 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, signors, and is no where 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?" "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 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 propose, 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, signor?" "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, signor?" "he is gone--vanished--not to be found!" "i thought as much," replied philip, significantly. "he is gone--vanished--you say. then, commandant, you will probably apologise to this noble gentleman for your treatment 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 at liberty; 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 treatment of him." the commandant went out, leaving the door open. philip and krantz followed: the former retiring to his own apartment; 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 partly not, commandant. when we first came here, not knowing what treatment 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-bye. 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 generally 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 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 contrary, 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 approaching, 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 portuguese 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 my noble friend, and when he went to bed the first night 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 had come 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 stiva 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 referred 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 raft, 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 himself 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 his appearance here this day, i presume he is tired, and has deserted his 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?" "there is." "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 he was interrupted." "very true; but he 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. "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 on which amine was on board entered into the bay and roadstead of goa. goa was 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 amine 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, now opening upon us, lay 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 barefooted carmelites: yon lofty spire 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 kindness with which the old man spoke melted amine to 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 councils and persuasions, than a really pious christian who 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 to 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 on 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 story 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, from the proud portuguese to the half-covered native; mussulmans, 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 subsequent 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 expressing a wish to be alone, she was followed into her 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 dominions, 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 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 will call upon you to-morrow 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 interview 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 her 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 apartments, 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 apartments fronting the square, airy and commodious. the landlady, 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-morrow, if you please." "and that massive building in face of us?" "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 intelligent, and amine, for her own reasons, did everything she could to make friends with him, and was successful. chapter xxxv amine 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, entered the room, ran up to amine, and kissed her. "tell me, pedro, where is your mother?" "she has 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 me." "nay, i have nothing to tell, but i wish to do something: i wish to make a play, and you shall see things in your hand." "oh! yes, shew me, do shew 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 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 a 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 vanderdecken, appear." "philip vanderdecken, appear!" responded the boy, trembling. "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.)" "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 was 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. eaves-dropping 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 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 building 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 previous 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 massive 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 officers attached to the establishment. 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: 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 particular occasions, no priests are allowed to enter. any consolation 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 execution of their sentence is passed upon their remains. there are two inquisitors at goa: one the grand inquisitor, 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 description 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 the 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 inquisition, 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 his own. the chief crimes which are noticed by the inquisition are those 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 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 contradistinction 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 fé_, or act of faith, which takes place every 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 acknowledge 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 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 ceremonies, 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 impartial 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 baptised and were afterwards convicted of any crime, they were sentenced to the punishment by fire; whereas, if they had not been baptised, they were only punished by whipping, imprisonment, or the galleys; upon this ground alone many refused 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. chapter xxxvii a few hours after amine had been in the dungeon, the jailors 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 jailors 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 had 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 jailor 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." "where is it?" "in the custody of father mathias." "are you aware why you are brought here?" "how should i be?" replied amine, evasively; "tell me what i am accused of." "you must know whether you have done 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 baptised?" "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 towards 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 jailors 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 fé_, 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. amine, at the time we have specified, was again introduced to the hall of justice, and was again asked if she would confess. 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 procured 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. this is not a dungeon from which people can escape so easily." "then tell me what have you to say; and what is it must be done?" "i will." "but, stop; before you say one word answer 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 you! 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?" "why 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 baptised, you must now become a member, or be supposed 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 can 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--" "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 not" "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 the likeness." "it was my mother. again you ask me to say that i believe that which i cannot." "that which you cannot! 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 for my philip." "amine vanderdecken, if you will confess your crime, before 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 therefore must be: it is my destiny: i cannot save myself. if i confess, then, i confess that philip is wedded to a sorceress, 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 appearance. he found amine calm and collected: she refused to listen to his advice, or follow his injunctions. his last observation, 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 practising 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 participator and equally guilty?" "he is," replied the inquisitor, anxiously awaiting the result. "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 drooping 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 fé_, 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 we 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, and the fabulous tale which he had invented to deceive the commandant. "i said that you alone knew where the treasure was concealed," 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 another, and rejoin amine." "not so," replied philip, "you must go with me, my friend: i feel that should i part with you, happiness would no longer be in store for me." "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 possible, 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 rashness 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, signor, be restored to your wife, whose charms had such an effect upon me; and for mention of whose name in the very unceremonious manner which i did, i must excuse myself upon the ground of total ignorance 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 subject," 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 it will be open to view, and will meet the eyes of your men; 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, and long before krantz had finished speaking, he had resolved to go himself. "well, signors," 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 stimulating them to insubordination." "true, signor, we will have two vessels; your advice is good." everything was thus satisfactorily arranged, with the exception 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 embarked--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 excited, when it was understood that those who composed the expedition were to be sacrificed to the avarice of the commandant. the weather being fine, they sailed on during the night: passed the island of ternate at ten leagues' distance; and before morning were among the cluster of isles, the southernmost of which was the one on which the treasure 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 had re-embarked. that they would despatch the commandant, and then proceed to batavia, and from thence obtain a passage home to europe. "cannot 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 other 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 they landed, and all retired to rest, the commandant dreaming of wealth and revenge; while it was arranging 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 commandant the notched cocoa-nut tree, which served as a guide to the spot where the money had been concealed. they landed on the 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 was but so much _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 removed 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, and 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 sheathes. "he has met his reward," said krantz. "yes," exclaimed the portuguese soldiers--"justice, nothing but justice." "signors, 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 burying 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 immediately in one of the peroquas, and leave them to settle their disputes as they pleased. he asked permission of the soldiers to 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," observed 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 that spot, it should be the '_accursed isle_.'" "would not any other be the same, with so much to inflame the passions of men?" "assuredly: what a curse is gold!" "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 these 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 any, 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; unless, 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 they followed the more secure, working up through the smooth waters, and gaining to the northward more than to the west. many times were they 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 prevented me; this is, however, a fitting opportunity. prepare therefore to listen to a strange story, quite as strange, perhaps, 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 lawfulness 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 permitted to interfere with us, and punish, i may say, comparatively 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?" 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 oppress man, there surely 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 propensities 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 the 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; 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. the evidence of my mother's shame was positive: he surprised 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 transpired. 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 mountains. 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 in doors, for, as my father followed the chase, we were left alone, and the wolves, during that season, incessantly 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 neighbouring 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 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 summertime 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 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, therefore, 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 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. children, however, when left 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 burst out, and the birds begin their songs, and when we should again be set at liberty. "such was our peculiar and savage sort of life until my brother caesar was nine, myself seven, and my sister five, years old, 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 of us gladly assisting each other in blowing on the embers to create the 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 with the fire, which both my brother and i had deserted when 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 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 marcella 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 and 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, 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 meat 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 busied 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, ushering 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 forests 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 disregarded 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 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 satisfied 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 refreshment, 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 which he could afford them. "'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,' observed 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 that 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, mynheer.' '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, mynheer?' observed 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; but marcella would not come near her; on the contrary, she 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 upon the table. when it was over, my father requested that the young lady would take possession of his 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, mynheer,' 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, mynheer, and, i may say, my worthy kinsman. 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 the german fashion. the conversation was 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. oh! brother, i cannot bear to look upon that woman--i 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 huntsman 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, conversing in a low tone by the fire. i ought to have mentioned, 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 consultation 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, mynheer 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?' "'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, mynheer, 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 are 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 interruption appeared to discompose the party, particularly my father; he spoke harshly to the child, who controlled her sobs, burying her face under the bedclothes. "such was the second marriage of my father. the next 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, close 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 would often furtively put a raw piece into her mouth. "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 and i endeavoured to dissuade him from this 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 approached 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 perceived that her right leg was bleeding profusely, as if from a gun-shot wound. she bandaged it up, and then dressing herself, 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 perceived 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 remain 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. "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 regularity 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--perdition 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. "'aye, 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 remnants of my poor brother which the wolves had spared. such was the first act of the tragedy. "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 decrease 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 disappeared 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!' said she, 'it must have been that great white wolf which passed me just now, and frightened me so--she's quite dead, krantz.' "i know it--i know it!' cried my father in agony. "i thought my father would never recover from the effects of this second tragedy: he mourned bitterly over the body of his sweet child, and for several days would not consign it to its grave, although frequently requested by my mother-in-law to do so. at last he yielded, and dug a grave for her close by that of my poor brother, and took every precaution that the wolves should not violate her remains. "i was now really miserable, as i lay alone in the bed which i had formerly shared with my brother and sister. i could not help thinking that my mother-in-law was implicated in both their deaths, although i could not account for the manner; but i no longer felt afraid of her: my little heart was full of hatred and revenge. "the night after my sister had been buried, as i lay awake, i perceived my mother-in-law get up and go out of the cottage. i waited some time, then dressed myself, and looked out through the door, which i half opened. the moon shone bright, and i could see the spot where my brother and my sister had been buried; and what was my horror, when i perceived my mother-in-law busily removing the stones from marcella's grave. "she was in her white night-dress, and the moon shone full upon her. she was digging with her hands, and throwing away the stones behind her with all the ferocity of a wild beast. it was some time before i could collect my senses and decide what i should do. at last, i perceived that she had arrived at the body, and raised it up to the side of the grave. i could bear it no longer; i ran to my father and awoke him. "'father! father!' cried i, 'dress yourself, and get your gun.' "'what!' cried my father, 'the wolves are there, are they?' "he jumped out of bed, threw on his clothes, and in his anxiety did not appear to perceive the absence of his wife. as soon as he was ready, i opened the door, he went out, and i followed him. "imagine his horror, when (unprepared as he was for such a sight) he beheld, as he advanced towards the grave, not a wolf, but his wife, in her night-dress, on her hands and knees, crouching by the body of my sister, and tearing off large pieces of the flesh, and devouring them with all the avidity of a wolf. she was too busy to be aware of our approach. my father dropped his gun, his hair stood on end; so did mine; he breathed heavily, and then his breath for a time stopped. i picked up the gun and put it into his hand. suddenly he appeared as if concentrated rage had restored him to double vigour; he levelled his piece, fired, and with a loud shriek, down fell the wretch whom he had fostered in his bosom. "'god of heaven!' cried my father, sinking down upon the earth in a swoon, as soon as he had discharged his gun. "i remained some time by his side before he recovered. 'where am i?' said he, 'what has happened?--oh!--yes, yes! i recollect now. heaven forgive me!' "he rose and we walked up to the grave; what again was our astonishment and horror to find that instead of the dead body of my mother-in-law, as we expected, there was lying over the remains of my poor sister, a large, white she wolf. "'the white wolf!' exclaimed my father, 'the white wolf which decoyed me into the forest--i see it all now--i have dealt with the spirits of the hartz mountains.' "for some time my father remained in silence and deep thought. he then carefully lifted up the body of my sister, replaced it in the grave, and covered it over as before, having struck the head of the dead animal with the heel of his boot, and raving like a madman. he walked back to the cottage, shut the door, and threw himself on the bed; i did the same, for i was in a stupor of amazement. "early in the morning we were both roused by a loud knocking at the door, and in rushed the hunter wilfred. "'my daughter!--man--my daughter!--where is my daughter!' cried he in a rage. "'where the wretch, the fiend, should be, i trust,' replied my father, starting up and displaying equal choler; 'where she should be--in hell!--leave this cottage or you may fare worse.' "'ha--ha!' replied the hunter, 'would you harm a potent spirit of the hartz mountains. poor mortal, who must needs wed a weir wolf.' "'out demon! i defy thee and thy power.' "'yet shall you feel it; remember your oath--your solemn oath--never to raise your hand against her to harm her.' "'i made no compact with evil spirits.' "'you did; and if you failed in your vow, you were to meet the vengeance of the spirits. your children were to perish by the vulture, the wolf--' "'out, out, demon!' "'and their bones blanch in the wilderness. ha!--ha!' "my father, frantic with rage, seized his axe, and raised it over wilfred's head to strike. "'all this i swear,' continued the huntsman, mockingly. "the axe descended; but it passed through the form of the hunter, and my father lost his balance, and fell heavily on the floor. "'mortal!' said the hunter, striding over my father's body, 'we have power over those only who have committed murder. you have been guilty of a double murder--you shall pay the penalty attached to your marriage vow. two of your children are gone; the third is yet to follow--and follow them he will, for your oath is registered. go--it were kindness to kill thee--your punishment is--that you live!' "with these words the spirit disappeared. my father rose from the floor, embraced me tenderly, and knelt down in prayer. "the next morning he quitted the cottage for ever. he took me with him and bent his steps to holland, where we safely arrived. he had some little money with him; but he had not been many days in amsterdam before he was seized with a brain fever, and died raving mad. i was put into the asylum, and afterwards was sent to sea before the mast. you now know all my history. the question is, whether i am to pay the penalty of my father's oath? i am myself perfectly convinced that, in some way or another, i shall." on the twenty-second day the high land of the south of sumatra was in view; as there were no vessels in sight, they resolved to keep their course through the straits, and run for pulo penang, which they expected, as their vessel laid so close to the wind, to reach in seven or eight days. by constant exposure, philip and krantz were now so bronzed, that with their long beards and mussulman dresses, they might easily have passed off for natives. they had steered during the whole of the days exposed to a burning sun; they had lain down and slept in the dew of night, but their health had not suffered. but for several days, since he had confided the history of his family to philip, krantz had become silent and melancholy; his usual flow of spirits had vanished, and philip had often questioned him as to the cause. as they entered the straits, philip talked of what they should do upon their arrival at goa. when krantz gravely replied, "for some days, philip, i have had a presentiment that i shall never see that city." "you are out of health, krantz," replied philip. "no; i am in sound health, body and mind. i have endeavoured to shake off the presentiment, but in vain; there is a warning voice that continually tells me that i shall not be long with you. philip, will you oblige me by making me content on one point: i have gold about my person which may be useful to you; oblige me by taking it, and securing it on your own." "what nonsense, krantz." "it is no nonsense, philip. have you not had your warnings? why should i not have mine? you know that i have little fear in my composition, and that i care not about death; but i feel the presentiment which i speak of more strongly every hour. it is some kind spirit who would warn me to prepare for another world. be it so. i have lived long enough in this world to leave it without regret; although to part with you and amine, the only two now dear to me, is painful, i acknowledge." "may not this arise from over-exertion and fatigue, krantz? consider how much excitement you have laboured under within these last four months. is not that enough to create a corresponding depression? depend upon it, my dear friend, such is the fact." "i wish it were--but i feel otherwise, and there is a feeling of gladness connected with the idea that i am to leave this world, arising from another presentiment, which equally occupies my mind." "which is?" "i hardly can tell you; but amine and you are connected with it. in my dreams i have seen you meet again; but it has appeared to me, as if a portion of your trial was purposely shut from my sight in dark clouds; and i have asked, 'may not i see what is there concealed?'--and an invisible has answered, 'no! 'twould make you wretched. before these trials take place, you will be summoned away'--and then i have thanked heaven, and felt resigned." "these are the imaginings of a disturbed brain, krantz; that i am destined to suffering may be true; but why amine should suffer, or why you, young, in full health and vigour, should not pass your days in peace, and live to a good old age, there is no cause for believing. you will be better to-morrow." "perhaps so," replied krantz;--"but still you must yield to my whim, and take the gold. if i am wrong, and we do arrive safe, you know, philip, you can let me have it back," observed krantz, with a faint smile--"but you forget, our water is nearly out, and we must look out for a rill on the coast to obtain a fresh supply." "i was thinking of that when you commenced this unwelcome topic. we had better look out for the water before dark, and as soon as we have replenished our jars, we will make sail again." at the time that this conversation took place, they were on the eastern side of the strait, about forty miles to the northward. the interior of the coast was rocky and mountainous, but it slowly descended to low land of alternate forest and jungles, which continued to the beach: the country appeared to be uninhabited. keeping close in to the shore, they discovered, after two hours' run, a fresh stream which burst in a cascade from the mountains, and swept its devious course through the jungle, until it poured its tribute into the waters of the strait. they ran close in to the mouth of the stream, lowered the sails, and pulled the peroqua against the current, until they had advanced far enough to assure them that the water was quite fresh. the jars were soon filled, and they were again thinking of pushing off; when, enticed by the beauty of the spot, the coolness of the fresh water, and wearied with their long confinement on board of the peroqua, they proposed to bathe--a luxury hardly to be appreciated by those who have not been in a similar situation. they threw off their mussulman dresses, and plunged into the stream, where they remained for some time. krantz was the first to get out; he complained of feeling chilled, and he walked on to the banks where their clothes had been laid. philip also approached nearer to the beach, intending to follow him. "and now, philip," said krantz, "this will be a good opportunity for me to give you the money. i will open my sash, and pour it out, and you can put it into your own before you put it on." philip was standing in the water, which was about level with his waist. "well, krantz," said he, "i suppose if it must be so, it must; but it appears to me an idea so ridiculous--however, you shall have your own way." philip quitted the run, and sat down by krantz, who was already busy in shaking the doubloons out of the folds of his sash; at last he said-- "i believe, philip, you have got them all, now?--i feel satisfied." "what danger there can be to you, which i am not equally exposed to, i cannot conceive," replied philip; "however--" hardly had he said these words, when there was a tremendous roar--a rush like a mighty wind through the air--a blow which threw him on his back--a loud cry--and a contention. philip recovered himself, and perceived the naked form of krantz carried off with the speed of an arrow by an enormous tiger through the jungle. he watched with distended eyeballs; in a few seconds the animal and krantz had disappeared! "god of heaven! would that thou hadst spared me this," cried philip, throwing himself down in agony on his face. "oh! krantz, my friend--my brother--too sure was your presentiment. merciful god! have pity--but thy will be done;" and philip burst into a flood of tears. for more than an hour did he remain fixed upon the spot, careless and indifferent to the danger by which he was surrounded. at last, somewhat recovered, he rose, dressed himself, and then again sat down--his eyes fixed upon the clothes of krantz, and the gold which still lay on the sand. "he would give me that gold. he foretold his doom. yes! yes! it was his destiny, and it has been fulfilled. _his bones will bleach in the wilderness_, and the spirit-hunter and his wolfish daughter are avenged." the shades of evening now set in, and the low growling of the beasts of the forest recalled philip to a sense of his own danger. he thought of amine; and hastily making the clothes of krantz and the doubloons into a package, he stepped into the peroqua, with difficulty shoved it off, and with a melancholy heart, and in silence, hoisted the sail, and pursued his course. "yes, amine," thought philip, as he watched the stars twinkling and corruscating. "yes, you are right, when you assert that the destinies of men are foreknown, and may by some be read. my destiny is, alas! that i should be severed from all i value upon earth, and die friendless and alone. then welcome death, if such is to be the case; welcome a thousand welcomes! what a relief wilt thou be to me! what joy to find myself summoned to where the weary are at rest! i have my task to fulfil. god grant that it may soon be accomplished, and let not my life be embittered by any more trials such as this." again did philip weep, for krantz had been his long-tried, valued friend, his partner in all his dangers and privations, from the period that they had met when the dutch fleet attempted the passage round cape horn. after seven days of painful watching and brooding over bitter thoughts, philip arrived at pulo penang, where he found a vessel about to sail for the city to which he was destined. he ran his peroqua alongside of her, and found that she was a brig under the portuguese flag, having, however, but two portuguese on board, the rest of the crew being natives. representing himself as an englishman in the portuguese service, who had been wrecked, and offering to pay for his passage, he was willingly received, and in a few days the vessel sailed. their voyage was prosperous; in six weeks they anchored in the roads of goa; the next day they went up the river. the portuguese captain informed philip where he might obtain lodging; and passing him off as one of his crew, there was no difficulty raised as to his landing. having located himself at his new lodging, philip commenced some inquiries of his host relative to amine, designating her merely as a young woman who had arrived there in a vessel some weeks before; but he could obtain no information concerning her. "signor," said the host, "to-morrow is the grand _auto da fé_; we can do nothing until that is over; afterwards, i will put you in the way to find out what you wish. in the meantime, you can walk about the town; to-morrow i will take you to where you can behold the grand procession, and then we will try what we can do to assist you in your search." philip went out, procured a suit of clothes, removed his beard, and then walked about the town, looking up at every window to see if he could perceive amine. at a corner of one of the streets, he thought he recognised father mathias, and ran up to him; but the monk had drawn his cowl over his head, and when addressed by that name, made no reply. "i was deceived," thought philip; "but i really thought it was him." and philip was right; it was father mathias, who thus screened himself from philip's recognition. tired, at last he returned to his hotel, just before it was dark. the company there were numerous; everybody for miles distant had come to goa to witness the _auto da fé_,--and everybody was discussing the ceremony. "i will see this grand procession," said philip to himself, as he threw himself on his bed. "it will drive thought from me for a time, and god knows how painful my thoughts have now become. amine, dear amine, may angels guard thee!" chapter xl although to-morrow was to end all amine's hopes and fears--all her short happiness--her suspense and misery--yet amine slept until her last slumber in this world was disturbed by the unlocking and unbarring of the doors of her cell, and the appearance of the head jailor with a light. amine started up--she had been dreaming of her husband--of happiness! she awoke to the sad reality. there stood the jailor, with a dress in his hand, which he desired she would put on. he lighted a lamp for her, and left her alone. the dress was of black serge, with white stripes. amine put on the dress, and threw herself down on the bed, trying if possible to recall the dream from which she had been awakened, but in vain. two hours passed away, and the jailor again entered, and summoned her to follow him. perhaps one of the most appalling customs of the inquisition is, that after accusation, whether the accused parties confess their guilt or not, they return to their dungeons, without the least idea of what may have been their sentence, and when summoned on the morning of the execution they are equally kept in ignorance. the prisoners were all summoned by the jailors, from the various dungeons, and led into a large hall, where they found their fellow-sufferers collected. in this spacious, dimly lighted hall were to be seen about two hundred men, standing up as if for support, against the walls, all dressed in the same black and white serge; so motionless, so terrified were they, that if it had not been for the rolling of their eyes, as they watched the jailors, who passed and repassed, you might have imagined them to be petrified. it was the agony of suspense, worse than the agony of death. after a time, a wax candle, about five feet long, was put into the hands of each prisoner, and then some were ordered to put on over their dress the _sanbenitos_--others the _samarias_! those who received these dresses, with flames painted on them, gave themselves up for lost; and it was dreadful to perceive the anguish of each individual as the dresses were one by one brought forward, and with the heavy drops of perspiration on his brows, he watched with terror lest one should be presented to him. all was doubt, fear, and horror! but the prisoners in this hall were not those who were to suffer death. those who wore the sanbenitos had to walk in the procession and receive but slight punishment; those who wore the samarias had been condemned, but had been saved from the consuming fire, by an acknowledgment of their offence; the flames painted on their dresses were _reversed_, and signified that they were not to suffer; but this the unfortunate wretches did not know, and the horrors of a cruel death stared them in the face! another hall, similar to the one in which the men had been collected, was occupied by female culprits. the same ceremonies were observed--the same doubt, fear, and agony were depicted upon every countenance. but there was a third chamber, smaller than the other two, and this chamber was reserved for those who had been sentenced, and who were to suffer at the stake. it was into this chamber that amine was led, and there she found seven other prisoners dressed in the same manner as herself: two only were europeans, the other five were negro slaves. each of these had their confessor with them, and were earnestly listening to his exhortation. a monk approached amine, but she waved him away with her hand: he looked at her, spat on the floor, and cursed her. the head jailor now made his appearance with the dresses for those who were in this chamber; these were samarias, only different from the others, inasmuch as the flames were painted on them _upwards_ instead of down. these dresses were of grey stuff, and loose, like a waggoner's frock; at the lower part of them, both before and behind, was painted the likeness of the wearer, that is, the face only, resting upon a burning faggot, and surrounded with flames and demons. under the portrait was written the crime for which the party suffered. sugar-loaf caps, with flames painted on them, were also brought and put on their heads, and the long wax candles were placed into their hands. amine and the others condemned being arrayed in these dresses, remained in the chambers, for some hours before it was time for the procession to commence, for they had been all summoned up by the jailors at about two o'clock in the morning. the sun rose brilliantly, much to the joy of the members of the holy office, who would not have had the day obscured on which they were to vindicate the honour of the church, and prove how well they acted up to the mild doctrines of the saviour--those of charity, good-will, forbearing one another, forgiving one another. god of heaven! and not only did those of the holy inquisition rejoice, but thousands and thousands more who had flocked from all parts to witness the dreadful ceremony, and to hold a jubilee--many indeed actuated by fanaticism, superstition, but more attended from thoughtlessness and the love of pageantry. the streets and squares through which the procession was to pass were filled at an early hour. silks, tapestries, and cloth of gold and silver were hung over the balconies, and out of the windows, in honour of the procession. every balcony and window was thronged with ladies and cavaliers in their gayest attire, all waiting anxiously to see the wretches paraded before they suffered; but the world is fond of excitement, and where is anything so exciting to a superstitious people as an _auto da fé_? as the sun rose, the heavy bell of the cathedral tolled, and all the prisoners were led down to the grand hall, that the order of the procession might be arranged. at the large entrance door, on a raised throne, sat the grand inquisitor, encircled by many of the most considerable nobility and gentry of goa. by the grand inquisitor stood his secretary, and as the prisoners walked past the throne, and their names were mentioned, the secretary, after each, called out the names of one of those gentlemen, who immediately stepped forward, and took his station by the prisoner. these people are termed the godfathers; their duty is to accompany and be answerable for the prisoner, who is under their charge, until the ceremony is over. it is reckoned a high honour conferred on those whom the grand inquisitor appoints to this office. at last the procession commenced. first was raised on high the standard of the dominican order of monks, for the dominican order were the founders of the inquisition, and claimed this privilege, by prescriptive right. after the banner the monks themselves followed, in two lines. and what was the motto of their banner? "justitia et misericordia!" then followed the culprits, to the number of three hundred, each with his godfather by his side, and his large wax candle lighted in his hand. those whose offences have been most venial walk first; all are bareheaded, and barefooted. after this portion, who wore only the dress of black and white serge, came those who carried the sanbenitos; then those who wore the samarias, with the flames reversed. here there was a separation in the procession, caused by a large cross, with the carved image of our saviour nailed to it, the face of the image carried forward. this was intended to signify, that those in advance of the crucifix, and upon whom the saviour looked down, were not to suffer; and that those who were behind, and upon whom his back was turned, were cast away, to perish for ever in this world, and the next. behind the crucifix followed the seven condemned; and, as the greatest criminal, amine walked the last. but the procession did not close here. behind amine were five effigies, raised high on poles, clothed in the same dresses, painted with flames and demons. behind each effigy was borne a coffin, containing a skeleton; the effigies were of those who had died in their dungeon, or expired under the torture, and who had been tried and condemned after their death, and sentenced to be burnt. these skeletons had been dug up, and were to suffer the same sentence as, had they still been living beings, they would have undergone. the effigies were to be tied to the stakes, and the bones were to be consumed. then followed the members of the inquisition; the familiars, monks, priests, and hundreds of penitents, in black dresses, which concealed their faces, all with the lighted tapers in their hands. it was two hours before the procession, which had paraded through almost every important street in goa, arrived at the cathedral in which the further ceremonies were to be gone through. the barefooted culprits could now scarcely walk, the small sharp flints having so wounded their feet, that their tracks up the steps of the cathedral were marked with blood. the grand altar of the cathedral was hung with black cloth, and lighted up with thousands of tapers. on one side of it was a throne for the grand inquisitor, on the other, a raised platform for the viceroy of goa, and his suite. the centre aisle had benches for the prisoners, and their godfathers; the other portions of the procession falling off to the right and left, to the side aisles, and mixing for the time with the spectators. as the prisoners entered the cathedral, they were led into their seats, those least guilty sitting nearest to the altar, and those who were condemned to suffer at the stake being placed the farthest from it. the bleeding amine tottered to her seat, and longed for the hour which was to sever her from a christian world. she thought not of herself, nor of what she was to suffer; she thought but of philip; of his being safe from these merciless creatures--of the happiness of dying first, and of meeting him again in bliss. worn with long confinement, with suspense and anxiety, fatigued and suffering from her painful walk, and the exposure to the burning sun, after so many months' incarceration in a dungeon, she no longer shone radiant with beauty; but still there was something even more touching in her care-worn, yet still perfect features. the object of universal gaze, she had walked with her eyes cast down, and nearly closed; but occasionally, when she did look up, the fire that flashed from them spoke the proud soul within, and many feared and wondered, while more pitied that one so young, and still so lovely, should be doomed to such an awful fate. amine had not taken her seat in the cathedral more than a few seconds, when, overpowered by her feelings and by fatigue, she fell back in a swoon. did no one step forward to assist her? to raise her up, and offer her restoratives? no--not one. hundreds would have done so, but they dared not: she was an outcast, excommunicated, abandoned, and lost; and should any one, moved by compassion for a suffering fellow-creature, have ventured to raise her up, he would have been looked upon with suspicion, and most probably have been arraigned, and have had to settle the affair of conscience with the holy inquisition. after a short time two of the officers of the inquisition went to amine and raised her again in her seat, and she recovered sufficiently to enable her to retain her posture. a sermon was then preached by a dominican monk, in which he pourtrayed the tender mercies, the paternal love of the holy office. he compared the inquisition to the ark of noah, out of which all the animals walked after the deluge; but with this difference, highly in favour of the holy office, that the animals went forth from the ark no better than they went in, whereas those who had gone into the inquisition with all the cruelty of disposition, and with the hearts of wolves, came out as mild and patient as lambs. the public accuser then mounted the pulpit, and read from it all the crimes of those who had been condemned, and the punishments which they were to undergo. each prisoner, as the sentence was read, was brought forward to the pulpit by the officers, to hear their sentence, standing up, with their wax candles lighted in their hands. as soon as the sentences of all those whose lives had been spared were read, the grand inquisitor put on his priestly robes and, followed by several others, took off from them the ban of excommunication (which they were supposed to have fallen under), by throwing holy water on them with a small broom. as soon as this portion of the ceremony was over, those who were condemned to suffer, and the effigies of those who had escaped by death, were brought up one by one, and their sentences read; the winding up of the condemnation of all was in the same words, "that the holy inquisition found it impossible on account of the hardness of their hearts and the magnitude of their crimes, to pardon them. with great concern it handed them over to secular justice to undergo the penalty of the laws; exhorting the authorities at the same time to show clemency and mercy towards the unhappy wretches, and if they _must_ suffer death, that at all events it might be without the _spilling of blood_." what mockery was this apparent intercession, not to shed blood, when to comply with their request, they substituted the torment and the agony of the stake! amine was the last who was led forward to the pulpit, which was fixed against one of the massive columns of the centre aisle, close to the throne occupied by the grand inquisitor. "you, amine vanderdecken," cried the public accuser. at this moment an unusual bustle was heard in the crowd under the pulpit, there was struggling and expostulation, and the officers raised their wands for silence and decorum--but it continued. "you, amine vanderdecken, being accused--" another violent struggle; and from the crowd darted a young man, who rushed to where amine was standing, and caught her in his arms. "philip! philip!" screamed amine, falling on his bosom; as he caught her, the cap of flames fell off her head and rolled along the marble pavement. "my amine--my wife--my adored one--is it thus we meet? my lord, she is innocent. stand off, men," continued he to the officers of the inquisition, who would have torn them asunder. "stand off, or your lives shall answer for it." this threat to the officers, and the defiance of all rules, were not to be borne; the whole cathedral was in a state of commotion, and the solemnity of the ceremony was about to be compromised. the viceroy and his followers had risen from their chairs to observe what was passing, and the crowd was pressing on, when the grand inquisitor gave his directions, and other officers hastened to the assistance of the two who had led amine forward, and proceeded to disengage her from philip's arms. the struggle was severe. philip appeared to be endued with the strength of twenty men; and it was some minutes before they could succeed in separating him, and when they had so done, his struggles were dreadful. amine, also, held by two of the familiars, shrieked, as she attempted once more, but in vain, to rush into her husband's arms. at last, by a tremendous effort, philip released himself, but as soon as he was released, he sank down helpless on the pavement; the exertion had caused the bursting of a blood-vessel, and he lay without motion. "oh god! oh god! they have killed him--monsters--murderers--let me embrace him but once more," cried amine, frantically. a priest now stepped forward--it was father mathias--with sorrow in his countenance; he desired some of the bystanders to carry out philip vanderdecken, and philip, in a state of insensibility, was borne away from the sight of amine, the blood streaming from his mouth. amine's sentence was read--she heard it not, her brain was bewildered. she was led back to her seat, and then it was that all her courage, all her constancy and fortitude gave way; and during the remainder of the ceremony, she filled the cathedral with her wild hysterical sobbing; all entreaties or threats being wholly lost upon her. all was now over, except the last and most tragical scene of the drama. the culprits who had been spared were led back to the inquisition by their godfathers, and those who had been sentenced were taken down to the banks of the river to suffer. it was on a large open space, on the left of the custom-house, that this ceremony was to be gone through. as in the cathedral, raised thrones were prepared for the grand inquisitor and the viceroy, who, in state, headed the procession, followed by an immense concourse of people. thirteen stakes had been set up, eight for the living, five for the dead. the executioners were sitting on, or standing by, the piles of wood and faggots, waiting for their victims. amine could not walk; she was at first supported by the familiars, and then carried by them, to the stake which had been assigned for her. when they put her on her feet opposite 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 faggots 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 mercy. it is the eleventh hour, but not too late. amine," continued the old man, with tears, "i implore, i conjure you. at least, may this load of trouble be taken from my heart." "'unhappy woman!' 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 _first_ 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 coursed down the old man's cheeks. as amine 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 affirmative, 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 before 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 years have passed away since we related amine's sufferings and cruel death; and now once more we bring philip vanderdecken 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 mathias! 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. alas! 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 vanderdecken 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 constant subject of his reveries. "blessed, indeed, will be the day 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 señora 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 contemplating 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 not 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 have been wrecked, philip vanderdecken, 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 now resumed his former attempts of stirring up the ship's company against philip, declaring that he was a jonas, 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 superstitious, 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 very 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 protect us from harm," continued he, taking off his hat reverentially, 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 belem." 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. 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 only 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 señora 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 incomprehensible. "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 mast-head and spars of another vessel. she rose, and rose gradually; her topmasts and top-sail yards, with the sails set, next made their appearance; 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, and at last the whole of her floatage was above water, and there she remained close to them, with her main-yard squared, and hove-to. "holy virgin!" exclaimed the captain, breathless; "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 perceived 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 seaman, dressed in a fur cap and canvas petticoats; he held some letters in his hand. "what do you want?" at last screamed the captain. "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 almanack 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, running 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 made no reply, but held his hand out for the letters. "here is one from our second mate, to his wife at amsterdam, 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. "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 disappeared: in a few seconds was heard the sound of the oars, retreating from the ship. "holy st 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 draining 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." "yes, yes, it's all right depend upon it;" cried the sailors. "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." "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 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! 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 kindlily _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 not attempt to harm you." "you do then _forgive your enemy_, philip vanderdecken?" replied schriften, mournfully, "for such, i acknowledge myself 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 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 him; 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 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 himself 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--before 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 himself 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. then 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 the 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 decrepit--still kneeling, still embracing, with their hands raised to heaven, sank slowly under the deep blue wave, the lurid sky was for a moment illumined by a lightning cross. then did the clouds which obscured the heavens roll away swift as thought--the sun again burst out in all his splendour--the rippling waves appeared to dance with joy. the screaming 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. the death ship new and popular novels at all the libraries the youngest miss green. by f. w. robinson, author of 'grandmother's money,' &c. vols. a daughter of dives. by leith derwent, author of 'circe's lovers,' 'king lazarus,' &c. vols. the duchess. by the author of 'molly bawn,' 'phyllis,' 'airy fairy lilian,' &c. vol. a creature of circumstances. by harry lander. vols. a modern delilah. by vere clavering. vols. hurst & blackett, , great marlborough street. the death ship a strange story; an account of a cruise in "the flying dutchman," collected from the papers of the late mr. geoffrey fenton, of poplar, master mariner. by w. clark russell, author of "the wreck of the grosvenor," "the golden hope," "a sea queen," etc., etc. in three volumes vol. i london hurst and blackett, limited , great marlborough street _all rights reserved_ printed by tillotson and son, mawdsley street bolton contents of the first volume. chapter page i.--i sail as second mate in the saracen ii.--we meet and speak the lovely nancy, snow iii.--the captain and i talk of the death ship iv.--we are chased and nearly captured v.--we arrive at table bay and proceed thence on our voyage vi.--the captain speaks again of the death ship vii.--i converse with the ship's carpenter about the death ship viii.--a tragical death ix.--mr. hall harangues the crew x.--we draw close to a strange and luminous ship xi.--a cruel disaster befalls me xii.--i am rescued by the death ship xiii.--wy zyn al verdomd xiv.--my first night in the death ship xv.--i inspect the flying dutchman xvi.--vanderdecken shows me his present for little margaretha xvii.--i talk with miss imogene dudley about the death ship xviii.--the death ship must be slow at plying xix.--i witness the captain's entrancement xx.--i hold a conversation with the crew the death ship. chapter i. i sail as second mate in the saracen. i will pass by all the explanations concerning the reasons of my going to sea, as i do not desire to forfeit your kind patience by letting this story stand. enough if i say that after i had been fairly well grounded in english, arithmetic and the like, which plain education i have never wearied of improving by reading everything good that came in my way, i was bound apprentice to a respectable man named joshua cox, of whitby, and served my time in his vessel, the laughing susan--a brave, nimble brigantine. we traded to riga, stockholm, and baltic ports, and often to rotterdam, where, having a quick ear, which has sometimes served me for playing upon the fiddle for my mates to dance or sing to, i picked up enough of dutch to enable me to hold my own in conversing with a hollander, or hans butterbox, as those people used to be called; that is to say, i had sufficient words at command to qualify me to follow what was said and to answer so as to be intelligible; the easier, since, uncouth as that language is, there is so much of it resembling ours in sound that many words in it might easily pass for portions of our tongue grossly and ludicrously articulated. why i mention this will hereafter appear. when my apprenticeship term had expired, i made two voyages as second mate, and then obtained an appointment to that post in a ship named the saracen, for a voyage to the east indies. this was _anno_ . i was then two-and-twenty years of age, a tall, well-built young fellow, with tawny hair, of the mariner's complexion from the high suns i had sailed under and the hardening gales i had stared into, with dark blue eyes filled with the light of an easy and naturally merry heart, white teeth, very regular, and a glad expression as though, forsooth, i found something gay and to like in all that i looked at. indeed it was a saying with my mother that "geff,"--meaning geoffrey--that "geff's appearance was as though a very little joke would set the full measure of his spirits overflowing." but now, it is as an old poet finely wrote: my golden locks time hath to silver turn'd, (o time, too swift, and swiftness never ceasing!) my youth, 'gainst age, and age at youth have spurn'd, but spurn'd in vain! and here it is but right to myself that i should say, though as a sailor i am but an obscure person, yet as a man i may claim some pride and lustre of descent, an ancestor being no less a worthy than one of the boldest of queen elizabeth's sea-captains and generals--edward fenton, i mean, who was himself of a sound and ancient nottingham stock; illustrious for his behaviour against the spaniards in , and for his explorations of the hidden passage of the north sea, mentioned with other notable matters in the latin inscription upon his monument by richard, earl of cork, who married his niece. but enough of such parish talk. the master of the saracen was one jacob skevington, and the mate's name christopher hall. we sailed from gravesend--for with whitby i was now done--in the month of april, . we were told to look to ourselves when we should arrive in the neighbourhood of the cape of good hope, for it was rumoured that the dutch, with the help of the french, were likely to send a squadron to recover cape town, that had fallen into the hands of the british in the previous september. however, at the time of our lifting our anchor off gravesend, the cape settlement lay on the other side of the globe; whatever danger there might be there, was too remote to cast the least faint shadow upon us; besides, the sailor was so used to the perils of the enemy and the chase, that nothing could put an element of uneasiness into his plain, shipboard life, short of the assurance of his own or his captain's eyes that the sail that had hauled his wind and was fast growing upon the sea-line, was undeniably an enemy's ship, heavily armed, and big enough to cannonade him into staves. so with resolved spirits, which many of us had cheered and heartened by a few farewell drams--for of all parts of the seafaring life the saying good-bye to those we love, and whom the god of heaven alone knows whether we shall ever clasp to our breasts again, is the hardest--we plied the capstan with a will, raising the anchor to a chorus that fetched an echo from the river's banks up and down the reach; and then sheeting home our topsails, dragging upon the halliards with piercing, far-sounding songs, we gathered the weight of the pleasant sunny wind into those spacious hollows, and in a few minutes had started upon our long journey. yet, though my parting with my friends had not been of a nature to affect my spirits, and though i was accounted to be, and indeed was, a merry, careless fellow, i was sensible of an unaccountable depression as, amidst the duties which occupied me, i would cast glances at the houses of gravesend and the shore sliding by, and hear, in momentary hushes, tremulous tinkling sounds raised by the water wrinkling, current-like under our round and pushing bows. chapter ii. we meet and speak the lovely nancy, snow. for days and days after we had cleared the channel and entered upon those deep waters, which, off soundings sway in brilliant blue billows, sometimes paling into faint azure or weltering in dyes as purely dark as the violet, according as the mood of the sky is, nothing whatever of consequence befell. we were forty of a company. captain skevington was a stout but sedate sailor, who had used the sea for many years, and had confronted so many perils there was scarce an ocean-danger you could name about which he could not talk from personal experience. he was, likewise, a man of education and intelligence, with a manner about him at times not very intelligible, though his temper was always excellent and his skill as a seaman equal to every call made upon it. we carried six twelve-pounders and four brass swivels and a plentiful store of small-arms and ammunition. our ship was five years old, a good sailer, handsomely found in all respects of sails and tackling, so that any prospect we might contemplate of falling in with privateers and such gentry troubled us little; since with a brave ship and nimble heels, high hot hearts, english cannon and jolly british beef for the working of them, the mariner need never doubt that the lord will own him wherever he may go and whatever he may do. we crossed the equator in longitude thirty degrees west, then braced up to the trade wind that heeled us with a brisk gale in five degrees south latitude, and so skirted the sea in that great african bight 'twixt cape palmas and the cape of good hope, formerly called, and very properly, i think, the ethiopic ocean; for, though to be sure it is all atlantic ocean, yet, methinks, it is as fully entitled to a distinctive appellation as is the bay of biscay, that is equally one sea with that which rolls into it. one morning in july, we being then somewhat south of the latitude of the island of st. helena, a seaman who was on the topsail-yard hailed the deck, and cried out that there was a sail right ahead. it was an inexpressibly bright morning; the sun had been risen two hours, and he stood--a white flame of the blinding and burning brilliance he seems to catch up from the dazzling sands of africa as he soars over them--in a sky of the most dainty sapphire fairness; not a cloud--no, not so big as a fading wreath of tobacco smoke anywhere visible, so that the ends of the sea went round with the clearness of the circle of a glass table, only that a small wind, very sweet and pleasant to every sense, blowing a little off our starboard bow, fluttered the ocean into a sort of hovering look, and its trembling caused the wake of the sun to resemble the leaping and frolicking of shoals of wet and sparkling mackerel. we waited with much expectation and some anxiety for the stranger to approach near enough to enable us to gather her character, or even her nationality; for the experienced eye will always observe a something in the ships of the dutch and french nations to distinguish the flags they belong to. it was soon evident that she was standing directly for us, shown by the speed with which her sails rose; but when her hull was fairly exposed, captain skevington, after a careful examination of her, declared her to be a vessel of about one hundred tons, probably a snow--her mainmast being in one with her foremast--and so we stood on, leaving it to her to be wary if she chose. whether she had at once made sure of us as an honest trader, i cannot say; she never budged her helm by so much as the turn of a spoke, but came smoothly along, a very pretty shining object, rolling on the soft, long-drawn swell in such a way as to dart shadows across the moonlike gleaming of her canvas with the breathings of their full bosoms--so that the sight reminded me of the planet venus as i once beheld her after she had passed from the tincture of the ruby into the quick light of the diamond, lightly troubled by the swift passage of a kind of gossamer scud, as though the winds on high sought to clothe her naked beauty with a delicate raiment of their own wearing, from which she was forever escaping into the liquid indigo she loves to float in. after a little the english ensign was seen to flutter at her fore-topgallant-masthead. to this signal we instantly replied by hoisting our colour; and shortly after midday, arriving abreast of each other, we backed our topsail-yard, she doing the like, and so we lay steady upon the calm sea, and so close, that we could see the faces of her people over the rail, and hear the sound, though not the words, of the voice of the master giving his orders. it was captain skevington's intention to board her, as he suspected she was from the indies, and capable therefore of giving us some hints concerning the dutch, into whose waters, in a manner of speaking, we were now entering; accordingly the jolly boat was lowered and pulled away for the stranger, that proved to be the snow, lovely nancy, of plymouth--name of cruel omen as i shall always deem it, though i must ever love the name of nancy as being that of a fair-haired sister who died in her fifteenth year. as many of my readers may not be acquainted with sea terms, it may be fit to say here, that a snow is nothing more than a brig, with the trifling addition of a thin mast abaft her mainmast, upon which her trysail or boom mainsail sets. i guess these vessels will always bear this name until their trysail-masts go out of fashion. but to return. i know not why i should have stood looking very longingly at that plymouth ship whilst our captain was on board her; for though to be sure we had now been at sea since april, whilst she was homeward bound, yet i was well satisfied with the saracen and all on board. i was glad to be getting a living and earning in wages money enough to put away; my dream being to save so much as would procure me an interest in a ship, for out of such slender beginnings have sprung many renowned merchant princes in this country. but so it was. my heart yearned for that snow as though i had a sweetheart on board. even mr. hall, the mate, a plain, literal, practical seaman, with as much sentiment in him as you may find in the first dutchman you meet in the amsterdam fish-market, even he noticed my wistful eyes, and clapping me on the back, cries out-- "why, fenton, my lad, i believe you'd be glad to go home in that little wagon yonder if the captain would let ye." "i believe i would, sir," i replied; "and yet if i could, i don't know that i would, either." he laughed and turned away, ridiculing what he reckoned a piece of lady-like sentiment; and that it was no more, i daresay i was as sure as he, though i wished the depression at the devil, for it caused me to feel, whilst it was on me, as though a considerable slice of my manhood had slipped away overboard. it is one of the few pleasures time permits to old men to recall the sweet, or gay, or fair pictures which charmed them when young. and which of all our faculties is more wonderful as a piece of mechanism, and more divine in its life-giving properties, than memory, which enables the spirit to quicken dust that has lain for many years in the womb of time; to attire it and to return to it its passions, emotions, and all other qualities; to put back the cycles the sun has run and oblige him to shine on forms which were then infants, but are now grass-hidden ridges; on houses then stately but now long since swept away; on meadows and orchards then bright with daisies, ruddy with fruit, but now covered with houses and busy streets whose sidewalks echo to the tread of generations more dream-like in that past to which the aged eye turns than ever can be the dead who then lived. 'tis thus when i think of that plymouth snow; for leaning back in my chair and closing these eyes, that morning shines all around me; the tremulous sea of blue, of a satin sheen in its tiny ripplings, shot with milder tints where the currents run as though they were the thin fingers of the wind toying with the bosom of the deep, bends to the distant sky upon whose lowermost reaches it flings the same opal lustre it gathers at its horizon; the air blows fitfully, like the warm breathings from a woman's sweet lips, and sometimes stills our sails and sometimes suffers them to flutter in sounds soothing as the murmurs of a midsummer night breeze amid the high branches of a sleeping oak. the snow had black sides but was painted white from her water-line; and though there was no lack of draining weeds and clustered shells upon her bilge and run, yet, with every slow roll from us, the wet whiteness, taking the meridian effulgence, broke out in a glory as of virgin silver, enriched by the marine adhesions, into the very likeness of a resplendent mosaic of precious metal and green glass. such magic has the sea to beautify whatever it is permitted to possess long enough for its powers of enrichment to work their way! her canvas flashed out of shadow into brightness with every lift of the swell; the ripples ran a dissolving tracery along her bends, as dainty to see as the choicest lace; the weather-clouded faces of her men looked at us over the stout bulwark-rail that was broken by a few open ports through which you spied the mouths of little cannon; and it was laughable to mark her figurehead, that represented an admiral in a cocked hat--a cheap dockyard purchase, no doubt, for the effigy was ridiculously out of character and foolishly too big for the vessel--bowing to the blue surface that flowed in lines of azure light to the cutwater, as though there were some mermaid there to whom he would be glad to "make a leg," as the old saying was. chapter iii. the captain and i talk of the death ship. after three-quarters-of-an-hour, or thereabouts, captain skevington returned. we then trimmed to our course again, and, ere long, the plymouth snow was astern of us, rolling her spread of canvas in a saluting way that was like a flourish of farewell. whilst the jolly boat was being hoisted, the captain stood gazing at the snow with a very thoughtful face, and then burying his hands in his pockets, he took several turns up and down the deck with his head bowed, and his whole manner not a little grave. he presently went to the mate, and talked with him, but it looked as though mr. hall found little to raise concern in what the captain said, as he often smiled, and once or twice broke into a laugh that seemed to provoke a kind of remonstrance from the master, who yet acted as though he were but half in earnest too; but they stood too far away for me to catch a syllable of their talk. it was my watch below at eight o'clock that evening. i was sitting alone in the cabin, sipping a glass of rum and water, ready to go to bed when i had swallowed the dose. there was but one lamp, hanging from a midship beam, and the cabin was somewhat darksome. the general gloom was deepened by the bulkhead being of a sombre, walnut colour, without any relief--such as probably would have been furnished had we carried passengers--from table-glass or silver, or such furniture. i mention these matters because they gave their complexion to the talk i am now to repeat. presently, down into this interior through the companion hatch comes captain skevington. i drained my glass and rose to withdraw. "stop a minute, fenton," says he; "what have you been drinking there?" i told him. "another drop can't hurt you," said he; "you have four hours to sleep it off in." with which he called to the boy to bring him a bottle of brandy from his cabin. he bid me help myself whilst he lighted a pipe of tobacco, and then said: "the master of the snow we met to-day warns us to keep a bright look-out for the dutch. he told me that yesterday he spoke an american ship that was short of flour, and learnt from the yankee--though how jonathan got the news i don't know--that there's a dutch squadron making for the cape, in charge of admiral lucas, and that among the ships is the dordrecht of sixty-six guns and two forty-gun frigates." "but should we fall in with them will they meddle with us, do you think, sir?" said i. "beyond question," he answered. "then," said i, "there is nothing for it but to keep a sharp look-out. we have heels, anyway." he smoked his pipe with a serious face, as though not heeding me; then looking at me steadfastly, he exclaimed, "fenton, you've been a bit of a reader in your time, i believe. did your appetite that way ever bring you to dip into magic, necromancy, the black art, and the like of such stuff?" he asked me this with a certain strangeness of expression in his eyes, and i thought it proper to fall into his humour. so i replied that in the course of my reading i might have come across hints of such things, but that i had given them too little attention to qualify me to reason about them or to form an opinion. "i recollect when i was a lad," said he, passing my answer by, so to speak, "hearing an old lady that was related to my mother, tell of a trick that was formerly practised and credited, too; a person stood at a grave and invoked the dead, who made answer." i smiled, thinking that only an old woman would talk thus. "stop!" cried he, but without temper. "she said it was common for a necromancer to invoke and obtain replies; but that though answers were returned, they were not spoken by the dead, but by the devil. the proof being that death is a separation of the soul from the body, that the immortal soul cannot inhabit the corpse that is mere dust, that therefore the dead cannot speak, themselves, but that the voices which seem to proceed from them are uttered by the evil one." "why the evil one?" said i. "because he delights in whatever is out of nature, and in doing violence to the harmonious fabric of the universe." "that sounds like a good argument, sir," said i, still smiling. "but," continued he, "suppose the case of men now living, though by the laws of nature they should have died long since. would you say that they exist as a corpse does when invoked--that is, by the possession and voice of the devil, or that they are informed by the same souls which were in them when they uttered their first cry in this life." "why, sir," i answered, "seeing that the soul is immortal, there is no reason why it should not go on inhabiting the clay it belongs to, so long as that clay continues to possess the physical power to be moved and controlled by it." "that's a shrewd view," said he, seemingly well-pleased. "but see here, my lad! our bodies are built to last three score and ten years. some linger to an hundred; but so few beyond, that every month of continued being renders them more and more a sort of prodigies. as the end of a long life approaches--say a life of ninety years--there is such decay, such dry-rot, that the whole frame is but one remove from ashes. now, suppose there should be men living who are known to be at least a hundred and fifty years old--nay, add an average of forty to each man and call them one hundred and ninety years old--but who yet exhibit no signs of mortality; would not you say that the bounds of nature having been long since passed, their bodies are virtually corpses, imitating life by a semblance of soul that is properly the voice and possession of the devil?" "how about methusaleh, and others of those ancient times?" "i'm talking of to-day," he answered. "'tis like turning up the soil to work back into ancient history; you come across things which there's no making anything of." "but what man is there now living who has reached to a hundred-and-ninety?" cried i, still struck by his look, yet, in spite of that, wondering at his gravity, for there was a determination in his manner of reasoning that made me see he was in earnest. "well," said he, smoking very slowly, "the master of that snow, one samuel bullock, of rotherhithe, whom i recollect as mate of a privateer some time since, told me that when he was off the agulhas bank, he made out a sail upon his starboard bow, braced up, and standing west-sou'-west. there was something so unusual and surprising about her rig that the probability of her being an enemy went clean out of his mind, and he held on, influenced by the sort of curiosity a man might feel who follows a sheeted figure at night, not liking the job, yet constrained to it by sheer force of unnatural relish. 'twas the first dogwatch; the sun drawing down; but daylight was yet abroad, when the stranger was within hail upon their starboard quarter, keeping a close luff, yet points off, on account of the antique fit of her canvas. bullock, as he talked, fell a-trembling, though no stouter-hearted man sails the ocean, and i could see the memory of the thing working in him like a bloody conscience. he cried out, 'may the bountiful god grant that my ship reaches home in safety!' i said, 'what vessel was she, think you?' 'why, captain,' says he, 'what but the vessel which 'tis god's will should continue sailing about these seas?' i started to hear this, and asked if he saw any of the crew. he replied that only two men were to be seen--one steering at a long tiller on the poop deck, and the other pacing near him on the weather side. 'i seized the glass,' said he, 'and knelt down, that those i viewed should not observe me, and plainly catched the face of him who walked.'" "how did bullock describe him, sir?" said i. "he said he wore a great beard and was very tall, and that he was like a man that had died and that when dug up preserved his death-bed aspect; he was like such a corpse artificially animated, and most terrible to behold from his suggestions of death-in-life. i pressed him to tell me more, but he is a person scanty of words for the want of learning. however, his fears were the clearest relation he could give me of what he had seen." "it was the phantom ship he saw, you think, sir?" said i. "i am sure. he bid me dread the sight of it more than the combined navies of the french and the dutch. the apparition was encountered in latitude twenty miles south of thirty-six degrees. 'tis a spectre to be shunned, fenton, though it cost us every rag of sail we own to keep clear." "then what you would say, captain," said i, "is, that the people who work that ship have ceased to be living men by reason of their great age, which exceeds by many years our bodies' capacity of wear and tear; and that they are actually corpses influenced by the devil--who is warranted by the same divine permission we find recorded in the book of job, to pursue frightful and unholy ends?" "it is the only rational view," he answered. "if the phantom ship be still afloat, and navigated by a crew, they cannot be men in the sense that this ship's company are men." "well, sir," said i, cheerfully, "i reckon it will be all one whether they be fiends, or flesh and blood miraculously wrought to last unto the world's end, for it is a million to nothing that we don't meet her. the southern ocean is a mighty sea, a ship is but a little speck, and once we get the madagascar coast on our bow we shall be out of the death ship's preserves." however, to my surprise, i found that he maintained a very earnest posture of mind in this matter. to begin with, he did not in the least question the existence of the dutch craft; he had never beheld her, but he knew those who had, and related tales of dismal issues of such encounters. the notion that the crew were corpses, animated into a mocking similitude of life, was strongly infixed in his mind; and he obliged me to tell him all that i could remember of magical, ghostly, supernatural circumstances i had read about or heard of, until i noticed it was half-an-hour after nine, and that, at this rate, my watch on deck would come round before i had had a wink of sleep. however, though i went to my cabin, it was not to rest. i lay for nearly two hours wide awake. no doubt the depression i had marked in myself had exactly fitted my mind for such fancies as the captain had talked about. it was indeed impossible that i should soberly accept his extraordinary view touching the endevilment of the crew of the death ship. moreover, i hope i am too good a christian to believe in that satyr which was the coinage of crazy, fanatical heads in the dark ages, that cheaply-imagined foul fiend created to terrify the weak-minded with a vision of split-hoofs, legs like a beast's, a barbed tail, flaming eyes, and nostrils discharging the sickening fumes of sulphur. but concerning the phantom ship herself--the flying dutchman as she has been styled--'tis a spectre that has too often crossed the path of the mariner to admit of its existence being questioned. if there be spirits on land, why not at sea, too? there are scores who believe in apparitions, not on the evidence of their own eyes--they may never have beheld such a sight--but on the testimony of witnesses sound in their religion and of unassailable integrity; and why should we not accept the assurance of plain, honest sailors, that there may be occasionally encountered off the agulhas bank, and upon the southern and eastern coast of the african extremity, a wild and ancient fabric, rigged after a fashion long fallen into disuse, and manned by a crew figured as presenting something of the aspect of death in their unholy and monstrous vitality? i turned this matter freely over in my mind as i lay in my little cabin, my thoughts finding a melancholy musical setting in the melodious sobbing of water washing past under the open port, and snatching distressful impulses from the gloom about me, that was rendered cloud-like by the moon who was climbing above our mastheads, and clothing the vast placid scene outside with the beauty of her icy light; and then at seven bells fell asleep, but was called half-an-hour later, at midnight, to relieve mr. hall, whose four hours' spell below had come round. chapter iv. we are chased and nearly captured. we talked occasionally of the phantom ship after this for a few days, the captain on one occasion, to my surprise, producing an old volume on magic and sorcery which it seems he had, along with an odd collection of books, in his cabin, and arguing and reasoning out of it. but he never spoke of this thing in the presence of the mate who, to be sure, was a simple, downright man, without the least imaginable flavour of imagination to render sapid the lean austerity of his thoughts, and who, therefore, as you may suppose, as little credited the stories told of the dutchman's ship as the ebrew jew believes in our lord. hence, as there were but the captain and me to keep this shuttlecock of a fancy flying, it fluttered before long to the ground; perhaps the quicker, because on the sunday following our speaking with the plymouth snow, there happened a piece of work, sharp and real enough to drive all ideas of visions and phantasms out of our heads. it was ten o'clock in the morning when a sail was descried broad on the larboard beam. we gave her no heed at first. it being the sabbath, and a warm sweet morning, the men having nothing to do, hung about the decks, smoking, telling stories and the like; and being cleanly attired in jackets and white trousers, they contributed a choice detail to the general structure of well-kept decks, shining brass work, massive shrouds soaring from the black dead-eyes to the great round tops, with further rigging of a similar kind ruling the topmasts to the cross-trees, and on yet to the topgallant heights, ropes crossing ropes and ratline following ratline, till the tracery, both in its substance aloft and its shadows below and in the inclined hollows of the sails, puzzled the eye with the complexity of a spider's web; whilst from the water-ways to the lower yard-arms and thence to the ends of the yards above, mounted the vast sheets of canvas, each central surface arching in snow to the raining light of the sun, like the fair full breasts of a virgin, passed the taut bolt-ropes, narrowing as they rose till, the royal-yards being reached, the sails there swelled yearning skywards as though they were portions of the prismatic ribbed and pearly beds of cloud directly over the ship, rent from them by the sweep of our trucks and knitted by our seamen to those lofty spars. it was not long, however, before we made out that the vessel down in the eastern quarter was steering large, and at the time the appearance of her canvas assured us of this, she slackened away her larboard braces to head up for us, hauling upon a bowline with a suddenness that left her intention to parley with us questionless. we hoisted the english ensign and held on a bit, viewing her with an intentness that brought many of our eyes to a squint; then the captain, observing that she showed no colours and was a big ship, put his helm up for a run. no sooner had we braced in our yards, when the fellow behind us squared away too, and threw out lower and topmast studding-sails with a rapidity that satisfied us she was a man-of-war, apparently a liner. this notion, joined to the belief that she was a dutchman, was start enough for us all. our small company were not likely to hold their own against the disciplined masses of a two or three decker, even though she should prove a spaniard. our guns were too few to do anything with tiers of batteries heavy enough to blow us out of water. so as there was nothing for it but a fair trial of speed, we sprung to our work like hounds newly unleashed, got her dead before it, ran out studding-sail booms on both sides and sent the sails aloft soaking wet for the serviceableness of the weight the wetness would give, and stationing men in the tops and cross-trees we whipped up buckets of water to them, with which they drenched the canvas, till our cloths must have looked as dark as a collier's to the ship astern of us. it was very slow work at first, and we were thankful for that; for every hour carried us nearer to the night into which the moon now entered so late and glowed with such little power, even when she had floated high, that we could count, after sundown, upon several hours of darkness; but it was not long before it became evident to us all that, spite of the ceaseless wetting of our sails, the ship in our wake was growing. then, satisfied of her superiority, and convinced of our nationality, she let fly a forecastle gun at us, of the ball of which we saw nothing, and hoisted the dutch colours at her fore-royal masthead, where, at all events, we could not fail to distinguish the flag. "confound such luck!" cries skevington at this. "how can our apple-bows contend with those pyramids of sails there? what's to be done?" he says, as if thinking aloud. "it's clear she's our master in running, and i fear she'll be more than our match on a bowline--with the weather gage too! and yet, by the thunder of heaven, mr. hall, it does go against the current of any sort of english blood to haul down that piece of bunting there," says he, casting his eyes at the peak where our flag was blowing, "to the command of a dutchman's cannon!" "the wind's coming away more easterly," said the mate, with a slow turning of his gaze into the quarter he mentioned, "and it'll be breezing up presently, if there's any signification in the darker blue of the sea that way." it happened as he said; but the dutchman got the first slant of it, and you saw the harder pulling of his canvas in the rounded rigidity of light upon the cloths, whilst the dusky line of the wind, followed by the flashings of the small seas, whose leaping heads it showered into spray, was yet approaching our languid ship, whose lower and heavy canvas often flapped in the weak air. a couple of shot came flying after us from the man-of-war's bowchasers ere the breeze swept to our spars; and now the silvery line of the white water that her stem was hewing up and sending in a brilliant whirl past her was easy to be seen; aye, 'twas even possible to make out the very lines of her reef-points upon the fore-course and topsail, whilst through the glass you could discern groups of men stationed upon her forecastle, and mark some quarter-deck figure now and again impatiently bound on to the rail and overhang it like a davit, with an arm round a backstay, in his eagerness to see how fast they were coming up with us. with all element of terror in it extinguished by time, it is a sight to recall with a sailor's fondness; for indeed the dutchman was a fine ship, very tall, with port-lids painted red inside, so that with the guns projecting from them, in two tiers, the aspect was that of rows of crimson, wolfish jaws, every beast with his tongue out; her yards were immensely square, and her studding-sail booms extending great spaces of canvas far over the side, she showed upon the dark blue frothing ocean like some heaven-seeking hill, fleecily clad with snow to twenty feet above the water-line, where it was black rock down to the wash of the froth. in the freshening wind, as it came up to us, i seemed to catch an echo of the drum-like roll of the briskening gale in those airy heights, and to hear the seething of the boiling stuff at her forefoot. but, thanks be to heaven, there was now a swift racing of foam from under our counter, whence it streamed away with a noise delicious to hearken to, as though it was the singing of the rain of a thunder-cloud upon hard land; for whenever the breeze gathered its weight in our canvas the saracen sprang from it meteor-fashion, and away we sped with helm right amidships, and the wind flashing fair over the taffrail. the excitement of this chase was deep in us when the captain gave orders to train a couple of guns aft and to continue firing at the pursuing craft; which was done, the powder-smoke blowing like prodigious glistening cobwebs into our canvas forward. meanwhile, the english colours flew hardily at our peak, whilst preventer guys were clapped on the swinging-booms and other gear added to give strength aloft; for the wind was increasing as if by magic, the ribbed clouds had broken up and large bodies of vapour were sailing overhead with many ivory-white shoulders crowding upon the horizon, and the strain upon the studding-sail tacks was extremely heavy. but you saw that it was captain skevington's intention to make the saracen drag what she could not carry, and to let what chose blow away before he started a rope-yarn, whilst we had that monster astern there sticking to our skirts; and by this time it was manifest that with real weight in the wind our heels were pretty nearly as keen as hers, which made us hope that should the breeze freshen yet we might eventually get away. well, at three o'clock it was blowing downright hard, though the weather was fine, the heavens mottled, the clouds being compacted and sailing higher, stormy in complexion and moving slowly; the sea had grown hollow and was most gloriously violet in colour, with plumes of snow, which curled to the gale on the head of each liquid courser; the sun was over our fore-topgallant yard-arm and showered down his glory so as to form a golden weltering road for us to steer beside. the ship behind catched his light and looked to be chasing us on wings of yellow silk. but never since her keel had been laid had the saracen been so driven. the waters boiled up to the blackfaced turbaned figure under the bowsprit, and from aft i could sometimes observe the glassy curve of the bow sea, arching away for fathoms forward, showing plain through the headrails. a couple of hands hung grinding upon the wheel with set teeth, and the sinews in their naked arms stood out like cords; others were at the relieving-tackles; and through it we pelted, raising about us a bubbled, spuming and hissing surface that might have answered to the passage of a whirlwind, repeatedly firing at the dutch man-of-war when the heave of the surge gave us the chance, and noticing the constant flash in his bows and the white smother that blew along with him, though the balls of neither appeared to touch the other of us. yet, that we should have been ultimately overhauled and brought to a stand i fully believe but for a providential disaster. for no matter how dark the dusk may have drawn around at sundown, the dutchman was too close to us to miss the loom of the great press of canvas we should be forced to carry: at least, so i hold; and then, again, there was the consideration of the wind failing us with the coming of the stars, for we were still in the gentle parallels. but let all have been as it might, i had just noted the lightning-like wink of one of the enemy's fore-chasers, when to my exceeding amazement, ere the ball of smoke could be shredded into lengths by the gale, i observed the whole fabric of the dutchman's towering foremast, with the great course, swelling topsail, topgallant-sail and royal, and the fore-topmast staysail and jibs melt away as an icicle approached by flame; and in a breath, it seemed, the huge ship swung round, pitching and foaming after the manner of a harpooned whale, with her broadside to us, exhibiting the whole fore-part of her most grievously and astonishingly wrecked. a mighty cheer went up from our decks at the sight, and there was a deal of clapping of hands and laughter. captain skevington seized the telescope, and talked as he worked away with it. "a rotten foremast, by the thunder of heaven!" he cried, using his favourite adjuration; "it could be nothing else. no shot our guns throw could work such havoc. by the height that's left standing the spar has fetched away close under the top. and the mess! the mess!" with the naked eye one could see that. the foremast had broken in twain; its fall had snapped off the jibbooms to the bowsprit cap, and i do not doubt a nearer view would have shown us the bowsprit itself severely wrenched. i could not imagine the like of that picture of confusion--her studding-sails, having been set on both sides, drowned all her forward part in canvas, a goodly portion of which had been torn into rags by the fall; immense stretches of sail lay in the water, sinking and rising with the rolling of the ship, and dragging her head to the wind; her main topmast studding-sails, and all the canvas on that mast and the mizzen--the yards lying square--were shaking furiously, owing to the posture in which she had fallen; every moment this terrible slatting threatened her other spars; and it needed not a sailor's imagination to conceive how fearfully all that thunderous commotion aloft must heighten the distracting tumult on deck, the passionate volleys of commands, the hollow shocks of seas smiting the inert hull, the shouting of the seamen, and, as we might be sure, the cries and groans of the many upon whom that soaring fabric of yards, sails, and rigging had fallen with the suddenness of an electric bolt from the clouds. for a whole hour after this we touched not a rope, leaving our ship to rush from the dutchman straight as an arrow from a bow. but, lord!--the storming aloft!--the fierce straining of our canvas till tacks and guys, sheets and braces rang out upon the wind like the clanking of bells, to a strain upon them tauter than that of harp-strings; the boiling noises of the seas all about our bow and under our counter, where the great bodies of foam roared away into our wake, as the white torrent raves along its bed from the foot of a high cataract! there was an excitement in this speed and triumph of escape from what must have proved a heavy and inglorious disaster to us all which put fire into the blood, and never could i have imagined how sentient a ship is, how participant of what stirs the minds of those she carries, until i marked the magnificent eagerness of our vessel's flight--her headlong domination of the large billows which underran her, and the marble-hard distention of her sails, reminding you of the tense cheeks of one who holds his breath in a run for his life. distance and the sinking of the sun, and the shadows which throng sharply upon his heels in these climes, left the horizon in course bare to our most searching gaze. we then shortened sail, and under easy canvas, we put our helm a-lee, and stood northwards on a bowline until midnight, when we rounded in upon our weather-braces and steered easterly, captain skevington suspecting that the dutchman would make all haste to refit and head south under some jury contrivance, in the expectation that as we were bound that way when he fell in with us so we should haul to our course afresh when we lost sight of him. yet in the end we saw him no more, and what ship he was i never contrived to learn; but certainly it was an extraordinary escape, though whether due to our shot, or to his foremast being rotten, or to its having been sprung and badly fished, or to some earlier wound during an engagement, must be left to conjecture. chapter v. we arrive at table bay and proceed thence on our voyage. but though, after this piece of severe reality, captain skevington had very little to say about such elusive and visionary matters as had before engaged us, it was clear from some words which he let fall that he regarded our meeting with the dutch battleship as a sort of reflected ill-luck from the snow that had passed the phantom dutchman, and the idea possessing him--as indeed it had seized upon me--that the lovely nancy was sure to meet with misadventure, and might have the power of injuring the fortune of any vessel that spoke with her intimately, as we had, caused him to navigate the ship with extraordinary wariness. a man was constantly kept aloft to watch the horizon, and repeatedly hailed from the deck that we might know he was awake to his work; other sharp-eyed seamen were stationed on the forecastle; at night every light was screened, so that we moved along like a blot of liquid pitch upon the darkness. on several occasions i heard captain skevington say that he would sooner have parted with twenty guineas than have boarded, or had anything to do with, the snow. happily, the adventure with the dutchman led the seamen to suppose that the master's anxiety wholly concerned the ships of the enemy; for had it got forward that the lovely nancy had sighted vanderdecken's craft off the agulhas, i don't question that they would have concluded our meeting with the snow boded no good to us, that we were likely ourselves to encounter the spectral ship--if indeed she were a phantasm, and not a substantial fabric, as i myself deemed--and so perhaps have refused to work the saracen beyond table bay. at that settlement it was necessary we should call for water, fresh provisions and the like; and on the sixth of july, in the year , we safely entered the bay and let go our anchor, nothing of the least consequence to us having happened since we were chased, the weather being fine with light winds ever since the strong breeze before which we had run, died away. after eighty-one days of sea and sky the meanest land would have offered a noble refreshment to our gaze; judge then of the delight we found in beholding the royal and ample scenery of as fair and spacious a haven as this globe has to offer. but as captain george shelvocke, in the capital account he wrote of his voyage round the world in , there points out, the cape of good hope, by which he must intend table bay, has been so often described, that, says he, "i can say nothing of it that has not been said by most who have been here before." we lay very quietly for a fortnight, feeling perfectly secure, as you may conclude when i tell you that just round the corner, that is to say, in simon's bay, there were anchored no less than fourteen british ships of war, in command of vice-admiral sir george elphinstone, of which two were seventy-fours, whilst five mounted sixty-four guns each. meeting one of the captains of this squadron, captain skevington told him how we had been chased by a dutch liner, and he replied he did not doubt it was one of the vessels who were coming to retake--if they could--the settlement we had captured from the nation that had established the place. but i do not think the notion probable, as the dutch ships did not show themselves off saldanha bay for some weeks after we had sailed. this, however, is a matter of no moment whatever. we filled our water casks, laid in a plentiful stock of tobacco, vegetables, hogs, poultry, and such produce as the country yielded, and on the morning of the eighteenth of july hove short, with a crew diminished by the loss of one man only, a boatswain's mate, named turner, who, because we suffered none of the men to go ashore for dread of their deserting the ship, slipped down the cable on the night of our departure, and swam to the beach naked with some silver pieces tied round him in a handkerchief. behold the character of the sailor! for a few hours of such drunken jollity as he may obtain in the tavern and amid low company, he will be content to forfeit all he has in the world. it was known that this man turner had a wife and two children at home dependent upon his earnings; yet no thoughts of them could suppress his deplorable, restless spirit. but i afterwards heard he was punished even beyond his deserts; for being pretty near spent by his swim, he lay down to sleep, but was presently awakened by something crawling over him that proved a venomous snake called a puff-adder, which, on his moving, stung him, whereof he died. it was the stormy season of the year off south africa; but, then, a few days of westerly winds would blow us into mild and quiet zones, and, come what might, the ship we stood on was stout and honest, all things right and true aloft, the provision-space hospitably stocked, and the health of the crew of the best. 'twas a perfectly quiet, cheerful morning when we manned the capstan; the waters of the bay stretched in an exquisite blue calm to the sandy wastes on the blaawberg side, and thence to where the town stands; the atmosphere had the purity of the object-lens of a perspective glass, and the far distant hottentot holland mountains, with summits so mighty that the sky appeared to rest upon them, gathered to their giant slopes such a mellowness and richness of blue, that they showed as a dark atmospheric dye which had run and stained before being stanched, that part of the heavens, rather than as prodigious masses of land of the usual complexion of mountains when viewed closely. that imperial height called table mountain, guarded by the amber-tinted couchant lion, reared a marvellously clear sky-line, and there the firmament appeared as a flowing sea of blue, flushing its full cerulean bosom to the flat altitude as though it would overflow it. but i noticed a shred of crawling vapour gather up there whilst the crew were chorussing at the capstan, and by the time our topsails were sheeted home there was a mass of white vapour some hundred feet in depth, foaming and churning atop, with delicate wings of it circling out into the blue, where they gyrated like butterflies and melted. the air was full of the moaning noises of the south-east wind flying out of that cloud down the steep abrupt full of gorges, scars, and ravines; and what was just now a picture of may-day peace became, on a sudden, a scene of whipped and creaming ripples; and the flashing on shore of the glass of shaken window-casements through spiral spirtings of reddish dust; hands aloft on the various ships at anchor, hastily furling the canvas that had been loosed to hang idly to the sun; flags, quite recently languid as streaks of paint, now pulling fiercely at their halliards; and malay fishing-boats, darting across the bay in a gem-like glittering of water sliced out by their sharp stems and slung to the strong wind. under small sail we stormed out toward the ocean, with a desperate screaming of wind in the rigging; but there was no sea, for the gale was off the land; and after passing some noble and enchanting bays on whose shores the breakers as tall as our ship flung their resounding atlantic thunder, whilst behind stood ranges of mountains putting a quality of solemn magnificence into the cheerful yellow clothing of the sunshine, with here and there a small house of an almond whiteness against the leaves of the silver trees and sundry rich growths thereabouts, in a moment we ran sheer out of the gale into a light wind, blowing from the north-west. i don't say we were astonished, since some-while before reaching the calm part we could see it clearly defined by the line where the froth and angry blueness and the fiery agitation of the wind ended. still, it was impossible not to feel surprised as the ship slipped out of the enraged and yelling belt into a peaceful sea and a weak new wind which obliged us to handle the braces and make sail. here happened an extraordinary thing. as we passed green point, where the weather was placid and the strife waged in the bay no longer to be seen, a large ship of six hundred tons, that we supposed was to call at cape town, passed us, her yards braced up and all plain sail set. she had some soldiers aboard, showed several guns, had the english colours flying and offered a very brave and handsome show, being sheathed with copper that glowed ruddy to the soft laving of the glass-bright swell, and her canvas had the hue of the cotton cloths which the spaniards of the south american main used to spread, and which in these days form a distinguishing mark of the yankee ships. having not the least suspicion of the turmoil that awaited her round mouille point, she slipped along jauntily, ready to make a free wind of the breeze then blowing. but all on a sudden, on opening the bay, she met the whole strength of the fierce south-easter. down she lay to it, all aback--stopped dead. her ports being open, i feared if she were not promptly recovered, she must founder. they might let go the halliards, but the yards being jammed would not travel. it swept the heart into the throat to witness this thing! we brought our ship to the wind to render help with our boats; but happily her mizzen topmast broke, and immediately after, her main topgallant-mast snapped short off, close to the cross-trees; then--though it must have been wild work on those sloping decks--they managed to bring the main and topsail yards square; whereupon she paid off, righting as her head swung from the gale, and with lightened hearts, as may be supposed, they went to work to let go and clew up and haul down, whilst you saw how severe was the need of the pumps they had manned, by the bright streams of water which sluiced from her sides. it was a cruel thing to witness, this sudden wrecking of the beauty of a truly stately ship, quietly swinging along over the mild heave of the swell, like a full-robed, handsome princess seized and torn by some loathsome monster, as we read of such matters in old romances. it was like the blighting breath of pestilence upon some fair form, converting into little better than a carcase what was just now a proud and regal shape, made beauteous by all that art could give her of apparel, and all that nature could impart of colour and lustre. chapter vi. the captain speaks again of the death ship. i had the first watch on the night of the day on which we left table bay: that is, from eight till midnight; and at two bells--nine o'clock--i was quietly pacing the deck, full of fancies struck into me by the beauty of the stars, among which, over the starboard yard-arms, hung the southern cross, shining purely, and by the mild glory of the moon that, though short of a day or two of being full, rained down a keen light that had a hint of rosiness in it, when captain skevington came out of the cabin, and stepping up to me stood a minute without speaking, gazing earnestly right around the sea-circle. there was a small wind blowing and the ship, under full sail, was softly pushing southwards with a pleasant noise as of the playing of fountains coming from the direction of her bows. "a quiet night, fenton," said the captain, presently. "aye, sir; quiet indeed. there's been a small show of lightning away down in the south-west. the wind hangs steady but a little faint." "the sort of night for meeting with the demon ship, eh, fenton?" cried he, with a laugh that did not sound perfectly natural. "there's no chance of such a meeting, i fear, sir." "you fear?" "well," i exclaimed, struck by his quick catching up of me, "i mean that as the demon ship, as you term her, is one of the wonders of the world, the seeing of her would be a mighty experience--something big enough in that way to keep a man talking about it all his life." "god avert such a meeting!" said he, lifting his hat, and turning up his face to the stars. i suppose, thought i, that our drawing close to the seas in which the phantom cruises has stirred up his superstitious fears afresh. "did you speak to any one at cape town about vanderdecken, sir?" said i. "no," he answered. "i had got my bellyfull from the master of the snow. what is there to ask?" "whether others have lately sighted the ship." "why, yes, i might have inquired, certainly, but it didn't enter my head. tell ye what, though, fenton, do you remember our chat t'other day about bodies being endevilled after they pass an age when by the laws of great nature they should die?" "perfectly well, sir." "now," continued he, "i was in company a few nights since where there was one cornelius meyer present, a person ninety-one years old, but surprisingly sound in all his faculties, his sight piercing, his hearing keen, memory tenacious, and so forth. he was a dutch jew, but his patriotism was coloured by the hue of the flag flying at cape castle: i mean he would take the king of great britain and the states-general as they came. when he left we talked of him, and this led us to argue about old age. one gentleman said he did not know but that it was possible for a man to live to a hundred-and-fifty, and said there were instances of it. i replied, 'not out of the bible,' where the reckoning was not ours. he answered, 'yes, out of the bible;' and going to a bookshelf, pulled down a volume, and read a score of names of men with their ages attached. i looked at the book and saw it was honestly written, and being struck by this collection of extraordinary examples, begged the gentleman's son, who was present, to copy the list out for me, which he was so obliging as to do. i have it in my pocket," said he, and he pulled out a sheet of paper, and then going to the hatch called to the boy to bring a lamp on deck. this was done, the lamp put on the skylight, and putting the paper close to it, the captain read as follows: "thomas parr, of shropshire, died nov. , , aged one hundred and fifty-two; henry jenkins, of yorkshire, died dec. , , aged one hundred and sixty-nine; james sands, of staffordshire, died , aged one hundred and forty; louisa truxo, a negress in south america, was living in , and her age was then one hundred and seventy-five." i burst into a laugh. he smiled too, and said, "here in this list are thirty-one names, the highest being that negress, and the lowest one, susannah hilliar, of piddington, northamptonshire, who died february th, , aged one hundred. the young gentleman who copied them said they were all honestly vouched for, and wrote down a list of the authorities, which," said he, peering and bringing the paper closer to his eyes, "consist of 'fuller's worthies,' 'philosophical transactions,' 'derham's physico-theology,' several newspapers, such as the 'morning post,' 'daily advertiser,' 'london chronicle,' and a number of inscriptions." i could have been tolerably sarcastic, i daresay, when he mentioned the authority of the newspapers, always understanding that those sheets flourish mainly on lies, and i should have laughed again had i not been restrained by the sense that captain skevington was clearly "bitten" on this subject, actually worried by it, indeed, to such lengths, that if he did not mind his eye it might presently push into a delusion, and earn him the disconcerting reputation of being a madman; so i thought i would talk gravely, and said, "may i ask, sir, why you should have been at the pains to collect that evidence in your hand about old age?" "a mere humour," said he, lightly, putting the paper away, "though i don't mind owning it would prodigiously gratify me if i could be the instrument of proving that men can overstep the bounds of natural life by as many years again, and yet possess their own souls and be as true to their original as they were when hearty young fellows flushed with the summer colours of life." some fine rhymes coming into my head, i exclaimed, "cowley has settled that point, i think, when he says:-- 'to things immortal time can do no wrong, and that which never is to die for ever must be young.'" "a noble fancy indeed!" cried the captain. he reflected a little, and said, "it would make a great noise among sailors, and perhaps all men, to prove that the mariners who man the death ship are not ghosts and phantoms as has been surmised, but survivors of a crew, men who have outlived their fellows, and are now extremely ancient, as these and scores of others who have passed away unnoticed have been," said he, touching his pocket where the paper was. "when, sir, did vanderdecken sail from batavia?" i asked. "i have always understood about the year ," he replied. "then," said i, calculating, "suppose the average age of the crew to have been thirty when the curse was uttered--we'll name that figure for the sake of argument--in the present year of our lord they will have attained the age of hard upon one hundred and eighty." "well?" said he, inquiringly, as though there was yet food for argument. i shook my head. "then," he cried, with heat, "they are endevilled, for it must be one of two things. they can't be dead men as the corpse in the grave is dead." "one could only judge by seeing with one's eyes," said i. "i hope that won't happen," he exclaimed, taking a hasty turn; "though i don't know--i don't know! a something here," pressing his brow, "weighs down upon me like a warning. i have struggled to get rid of the fancy; but our being chased by the dutchman shows that we did not meet that plymouth snow for nothing; and, by the thunder of heaven, fenton, i fear--i fear our next bout will be with the spectre." his manner, his words, a gleam in his eye, to which the lantern lent no sparkle, sent a tremor through me. he caused me to fear him for a minute as one that talked with certainty of futurity through stress of prophetic craze. the yellow beams of the lantern dispersed a narrow circle of lustre, and in it our figures showed black, each with two shadows swaying at his feet from the commingling of the lamplight and the moonshine. the soft air stirred in the rigging like the rustle of the pinions of invisible night-birds on the wing; all was silent and in darkness along the decks, save where stood the figure of the helmsman just before the little round-house, outlined by the flames of the binnacle lamp; the stillness, unbroken to the farthest corners of the mighty plain of ocean, seemed as though it were some mysterious spell wrought by the stars, so high it went, even--so one might say--as a sensible presence to the busy, trembling faces of those silver worlds. in all men, even in the dullest, there is a vein of imagination; whilst, like an artery, it holds sound, all is well. but sometimes it breaks, god knows how, for the most part, and then what is in it floods the intelligence often to the drowning of it, as the bursting of a vessel of the body within sickens or kills with hemorrhage. i considered some such idea as this to be applicable to captain skevington. here was apparently a plain, sturdy sailor, qualified to the life for such talk as concerns ships, weather, ladings and the like; yet it was certain he was exceedingly superstitious, believing in such a devil as the ancient monks figured forth, also in the possession of dead bodies by demons who caused them to move and act as though operated upon by the souls they came from their mothers with, with a vast deal of other pitiful fancies; and now, through our unhappy meeting with that miserable snow, he had let his mind run on the phantom ship so vehemently that he was not only cocksure we should meet the spectre, but had reasoned the whole fabric and manning of her out on two issues; either that her hands were survivors of her original crew, persons who had cheated nature by living to an age the like of which had not been heard of since the days of moses and the prophets, beings who, like a lamp would live to the last wink and crawl upon the utmost verge of life; or that they were mariners who, having arrived at the years when they would have died but for being cursed, had been seized upon by the devil, quickened by him, and set a-going with their death-hour aspects upon them. these reflections occupied my mind after he had left me, and i don't mind confessing that what with my own belief in the death ship, coupled with the captain's notions and the fancies they raised in me, along with the melancholy vagueness of the deep, hazy with moonshine, the stillness, and the sense of our drawing near to where the spectre was chiefly to be met, i became so uneasy that i contrived to spend the rest of my watch on deck within a few paces of the wheel, often addressing the helmsman for the sake of hearing his voice; and i tell you i was mighty pleased when midnight came round at last, so that i could go below and dispatch the mate to a scene in which his heavy mind would witness nothing but water and sky, and a breeze much too faint to be profitable. chapter vii. i converse with the ship's carpenter about the death ship. and now for six days it veritably seemed as if we were to be transformed into the marine phantom that, unsubstantial as she might be, yet lay with the heaviness of lead upon captain skevington; for, being on the parallel of agulhas, a little to the south of that latitude, and in about sixteen degrees west longitude, it came on to blow fresh from the south-east, hardening after twenty-four hours into a whole gale with frequent and violent guns, and a veering of it easterly; and this continued, with a lull of an hour or two's duration, for six days, as i have said. 'twas a taste of cape weather strong enough to last a man a lifetime. the sea lay shrouded to within a musket-shot by a vapour of slatish hue that looked to stand motionless, and past the walls and along the roof of this wild, dismal, cloud-formed chamber, with its floor of vaults and frothing brows, the wind swept raving, raising a terrible lead-coloured sea, with heads which seemed to rear to the height of our maintop, where they broke, and boiled like a cauldron with foam, great masses of which the hands of the gale caught up and hurled, so that the lashing of the spray was often like a blinding snowstorm, but so smarting that the wind was as if charged with javelins. look upon the chart and you will see that for measureless leagues there is in these waters no land to hinder the run of the surges. hence, when a fierce gale comes on from the east, south or west, the seas which rise are prodigious beyond such language as i have at command to express. we lay-to under a storm staysail with topgallant-masts struck, yards on deck and the lower yards stowed on the rail, the hatches battened down and everything as snug as good seamanship could provide. our decks were constantly full of water; by one great sea that fell over into the waist there were drowned no less than six of the sheep we had taken in at the cape, with a hog and many fowls; the carpenter's leg was broken by a fall, and an able seaman was deeply gashed in the face by being thrown against a scuttlebutt; 'twas impossible to get any food cooked, and throughout that week we subsisted on biscuit, cheese and such dry and lean fare as did not need dressing. in short, i could fill a chapter with our sufferings and anxieties during that period. i had supposed that when brought face to face with the stern harsh prose of such weather as this, the mournful, romantic stuff that filled the captain's head would have been clean blown out of it; but no! he repeatedly said to me, and i believe on more than one occasion to mr. hall, that he considered this weather as part of the ill-luck that was bound to come to us from our having spoken a vessel that had been passed within hailing distance by the phantom ship. on the fifth morning of the gale, the pair of us being in the cabin, he informed me that a man named cobwebb, who was at the helm the night before, had told him that some of the crew were for putting this foul storm down to one mulder, or some such name, who was a russian finn, a sober, excellent seaman, and one of the only two foreigners in our forecastle; that to neutralise any magical influence he might possess, a horse shoe had been nailed to the foremast and the mainmast pierced and scored with a black-handled knife. he smiled at these superstitions but did not seem to suspect that his own, as being received by a man of thought and tolerable education, might by many be deemed much more worthy of ridicule. but on the sixth day the gale broke, leaving our ship considerably strained, by which time, in spite of the current and the send of the sea, we had contrived to make forty miles of southing and easting, owing to our pertinacity in making sail and stretching away on a board at every lull. it was shortly after this, on the tuesday following the friday on which the gale ended, that, it being my watch on deck from eight o'clock in the evening till midnight, i carried my pipe, an hour before my turn arrived, into the carpenter's cabin, which he shared with the boatswain, to give the poor fellow a bit of my company, for his broken leg kept him motionless. it was the second dogwatch, as we term the time, 'twixt six and eight o'clock, at sea, the evening indifferently fine, the wind over the starboard quarter, a quiet breeze, the ocean heaving in a lazy swell from the south, and the ship pushing forward at five knots an hour under fore and main-royals. the carpenter lay in a bunk, wearing a haggard face, and grizzly for lack of the razor. he was a very sensible, sober man, a good artificer, and had served under lord howe in the fleet equipped for the relief of gibraltar, besides having seen a deal of cruising work in earlier times. he was much obliged by my looking in upon him, and we speedily fell to yarning; he lighted a pipe, and i smoked likewise, whilst i sat upon his chest, taking in with a half-look round, such details as a rude sketch of the bo's'n's wife nailed to the bulkhead, the slush lamp swinging its dingy smoking flame to a cracked piece of looking-glass over against the carpenter's bed, an ancient horny copy of the bible, with type pretty nigh as big as the letters of our ship's name, a bit of a shelf wherefrom there forked out the stems of some clay pipes, with other humble furniture such as a sailor is used to carry to sea with him. after a little, the carpenter, whose name was matthews, says to me, "i beg pardon, sir, but there's some talk going about among the men concerning the old dutchman that was cursed last century. my mate, joe marner, told me that jimmy--meaning the cabin-boy--was telling some of the crew this morning, that he heard the captain say the dutchman's been sighted." "by anyone aboard us?" i asked. "mebbe, sir, but i didn't understand that." now, as every hour was carrying us further to the eastward of the cape, away from the phantom's cruising-ground, and as, moreover, the leaving gossip to make its own way would surely in the end prove more terrifying to the nervous and superstitious on board than speaking the truth, i resolved to tell matthews how the matter stood, and with that, acquainted him with what the master of the snow had told captain skevington. he looked very grave, and withdrew his pipe from his lips, and i noticed he did not offer to light the tobacco afresh. "i'm sorry to hear this, sir," says he. "but," said i, "what has the lovely nancy's meeting with the dutchman got to do with us?" "only this, sir," he exclaimed, with his face yet more clouded, and speaking in a low voice, as one might in a sacred building, "i never yet knew or heard of a ship reporting to another of having met the dutchman without that other a-meeting of the ghost too afore she ended her voyage." "if that be so," i cried, not liking to hear this, for matthews had been to sea for thirty-five years, and he now spoke with too much emotion not to affect me, "for god's sake don't make your thoughts known to the crew, and least of all to the captain, who is already so uneasy on this head that when he mentions it he talks as if his mind were adrift." "mr. fenton," said the carpenter, "i never yet knew or heard of a ship reporting to another of having met the dutchman, without that other meeting the ghost too afore she's ended her voyage," and thus speaking he smote his bed heavily with his fist. i was startled by the emphasis his repeating his former words gave to the assurance, and smoked in silence. he put down his pipe and lay awhile looking at me as though turning some matters over in his mind. the swing of the flame, burning from the spout of the lamp put various expressions, wrought by the fluctuating shadows, into his sick face, and it was this perhaps that caused his words to possess a power i could not feign to you by any art of my pen. he asked me if i had ever seen the dutchman, and on my answering "no," he said that the usual notion among sailors was that there is but one vessel sailing the seas with the curse of heaven upon her, but that that was a mistake, as it was an error in the same way to suppose that this ocean from agulhas round to the mozambique was the only place in which the phantom was to be met. "there's a ship," said he, "after the pattern of this here dutchman, to be found in the baltic. she always brings heavy weather, and there's small chance afterwards for any craft that sights her." "i've been trading in the baltic for five years without ever hearing that," said i. "but it's true all the same, mr. fenton; you ask about it, sir, when you get back, and then you'll see. there's another vessel, of the same pattern, that's to be met down in the mouth of the channel, 'twixt ushant and the scillies, and thereabouts. a man i know, called jimmy robbins, saw her, and told me the yarn. he was in a ship bound home from the spice islands; they were in soundings, and heading round for the channel; it was the morning watch, just about dawn, weather slightly thickish; suddenly a vessel comes heaving out of the smother from god knows where! jim robbins was coiling down a rope alongside the mate, who, on seeing the vessel, screams out shrill, like a woman, and falls flat in a swound; jim, looking, saw it was the channel death ship, a large pink, manned by skeletons, with a skull for a figurehead, and a skeleton captain leaning against the mast, watching the running of the sand in an hour-glass he held. she was seen by twelve others, besides jim and the mate, who nearly died of the fright. and the consequence of meeting her was, that the ship jim robbins was in was cast away on the following night on the french coast, down saint brihos way, and thirty-three souls perished." the gravity with which he related this, and his evident keen belief in these and the like superstitions, now rendered the conversation somewhat diverting; for, as i have elsewhere said, though i never questioned the existence of the one spectral ship, in a belief in which all mariners are united, holding that the deep, which is full of drowned men, hath its spirits and its apparitions equally with the land, yet when it came to such crude mad fancies as a vessel manned by skeletons, why, of course, there was nothing for it but to laugh, which i did, heartily enough, though in my sleeve, for seamen are a sensitive people, easily afronted, more especially in any article of their faith. however, he succeeded, before i left him, in exciting a fresh uneasiness in me by asseverating, in a most melancholy voice, and with a very dismal face, that our having spoken with the snow that had sighted the dutchman was certain to be followed by misfortune; and these being amongst the last words he exchanged with me before i left his cabin, i naturally carried away with me on deck the damping and desponding impression of his posture and appearance as he uttered them, which were those of a man grieved, bewildered, and greatly alarmed. chapter viii. a tragical death. for some time after i had relieved the deck, as it is termed, that is to say, after the mate had gone below and left me in charge, i had the company of the captain, who seemed restless and troubled, often quitting my side as we paced, to go to the rail and view the horizon, with the air of a man perturbed by expectation. i need not tell you that i did not breathe a word to him respecting my talk with the carpenter, not even to the extent of saying how fancies about the dutchman were flying about among the crew, for this subject he was in no state of mind to be brought into. the moon was rising a little before he joined me, and we stood in silence watching her. she jutted up a very sickly faint red, that brightened but a little after she lifted her lower limb clear of the horizon, and when we had the full of her plain we perceived her strangely distorted by the atmosphere of the shape--if shape it can be called--of a rotten orange that has been squeezed, or of a turtle's egg lightly pressed; she was more like a blood-coloured jelly distilled by the sky, ugly and even affrighting, than the sweet ice-cold planet that empearls the world at night, and whose delicate silver the lover delights to behold in his sweetheart's eyes. but she grew more shapely as she soared, though holding a dusky blush for a much longer time than ever i had noticed in her when rising off the mid-african main; and her wake, broken by the small, black curl of the breeze, hung in broken indissoluble lumps of feverish light, like coagulated gore that had dropped from the wound she looked to be in the dark sky. there was a faintness in the heavens that closed out the sparkles of the farther stars, and but a few, and those only of the greatest magnitude, were visible, shining in several colours, such as dim pink and green and wan crystal; all which, together with one or two of them above our mastheads, dimly glittering amidst feeble rings, made the whole appearance of the night amazing and even ghastly enough to excite a feeling of awe in the attention it compelled. the captain spoke not a word whilst the moon slowly floated into the dusk, and then fetching a deep breath, he said-- "well, thank god, if she don't grow round it's because of the shadow on her. keep a bright look-out, mr. fenton, and hold the ship to her course. should the wind fail call me--and call me too if it should head us." with which he walked quietly to the hatch, stood there a moment or two with his hand upon it and his face looking up as though he studied the trim of the yards, and then disappeared. my talk with the carpenter and the behaviour of the captain bred in me a sense as of something solemn and momentous informing the hours. i reasoned with myself, i struggled with the inexplicable oppression that weighed down my spirits, but it would not do. i asked myself, "why should the cheap, illiterate fears of such a man as the carpenter affect me? why should i find the secret of my soul's depression in the superstitions of captain skevington, whose arguments as to the endevilment of the dead exhibited a decay of his intellect on one side, as phthisis consumes one lung, leaving the other sound enough for a man to go on living with?" and i recited these comfortable lines of the poet:-- "learn though mishap may cross our ways, it is not ours to reckon when." yet in vain. there was an intelligence of my spirits that was not to be soothed, and i found myself treading about the deck, stepping lightly, as a man might who walks upon ground under which the dead lie, whilst i felt so much worried, down to the very bottom of my heart, that had some great sorrow just befallen me i could not have been sadder. as the night wore on the moon gathered her wonted hue and shape, though her refulgence was small, for the air thickened. indeed, at half-past ten all the lights of heaven, saving the moon, had been put out by a mist, the texture of which was illustrated by the only luminary the sky contained, around whose pale expiring disc there was now a great halo, with something of the character of a lunar rainbow in the very delicate, barely determinable tinctures, which made a sort of shadowy prism of it, more like what one would dream of than see. the ocean lay very black, there was no power in the moon to cast a wake, the breathings of the wind rippled the water and caused a scintillation of the spangles of the phosphorus or sea-fire, the weight of the lower sails kept them hanging up and down, and what motion the ship had was from the swelling of the light canvas that rose very pale and ghostly into the gloom. i had gone to the taffrail and was staring there away into the dark, whither our short wake streamed in a sort of smouldering cloudiness with particles of fire in it, conceiving that the wind was failing, and waiting to make sure before reporting to the captain, when i was startled by the report of a musket or some small arm that broke upon my ear with a muffled sound, so that whence it came i could not conceive. yet, for some minutes i felt so persuaded the noise had been seawards that, spite of there having been no flash, i stood peering hard into the dark, first one side then the other, far as the sails would suffer me. then, but all very quickly, concluding that the explosion had happened aboard and might betoken mischief, i ran along the deck where, close against the wheel, i found a number of seamen talking hurriedly and in alarmed voices. i called out to know what that noise had been. none knew. one said it had come from the sea, another that there had been a small explosion in the hold, and a third was giving his opinion, when at that instant a figure darted out of the companion hatch, clothed in his shirt and drawers, and cried out, "mr. fenton! mr. fenton! for god's sake, where are you?" i recognized the voice of mr. hall, and bawled back, "here, sir!" and ran to him. he grasped my arm. "the captain has shot himself!" he exclaimed. "where is he?" said i. "in his cabin," he answered. we rushed down together. the great cabin, where we messed, was in darkness, but a light shone in the captain's berth. the door was open, and gently swung with the motion of the ship. i pushed in, but instantly recoiled with horror, for, right athwart the deck lay the body of captain skevington, with the top of his head blown away. it needed but one glance to know that he had done this thing with his own hand. he had fired the piece with his foot by a string attached to the trigger, standing upright with his brow bent to the muzzle, for the bight of the string was round his shoe, and he had fallen sideways, grasping the barrel. the sight froze me to the marrow. had i killed him by accident with my own hand i could not have trembled more. but this exquisite distress was short-lived. it was only needful to look at his head to discover how fruitless would be the task of examining him for any signs of life. some of the seamen who heard mr. hall cry out to me about this thing had followed us below, forgetting their place in the consternation roused in them, and stood in the doorway faintly groaning and muttering exclamations of pity. mr. hall bid a couple of them raise the body and lay it in its bunk and cover it with a sheet, and others he sent for water and a swab wherewith to cleanse the place. "you had better go on deck again, fenton," says he to me; "the ship must be watched. i'll join you presently." i was glad to withdraw; for albeit there was a ghastliness in the look of the night, the sea being black as ebony, though touched here and there with little sheets of fire, and stretching like a pall to its horizon that was drawing narrower and murkier around us minute after minute, with the wing-like shadow of vapour that was yet too thin to deserve the name of fog; though there was this ghastliness, i say, aided by the moon that was now little more than a dim, tarnished blotch of shapeless silver, wanly ringed with an ashen cincture, yet the taste of the faint breeze was as helpful to my spirits as a dram of generous cordial after the atmosphere of the cabin in which i had beheld the remains of captain skevington. chapter ix. mr. hall harangues the crew. the news had spread quickly; the watch below had roused out and most of the men were on deck, and they moved about in groups striving to find out all about the suicide. the death of a captain of a ship at sea is sure always to fill the crew with uneasiness; a sense of uncertainty is excited, and then again there is that darkening of the spirits which the shadow of death particularly causes among a slender community who have been for months associated as a family, and amid whom, every man's face, speech, and manner are, maybe, more familiar than his own brother's or father's. yet of all the souls on board i suspect i felt the captain's self-murder most sorely, for owing to there being in my mind much more that was akin to his own moods than he could find in mr. hall, we had had many and long conversations together. then there was the death ship for me to recall, with his thoughts on it and his conviction that evil was sure to follow his boarding the plymouth snow. moreover, i was the last with whom he had exchanged words that night, and in his manner of quitting me, after looking at the moon, there was positively nothing that even my startled and imaginative mind could witness to indicate the intention that had destroyed him. presently mr. hall arrived on deck fully dressed, and stepping over to where i stood in deep thought, exclaimed, "did you have a suspicion that the captain designed this fearful act?" "no, not a shadow of a suspicion," i answered. "'tis enough to make one believe he was not far out when he talked of the ill-luck he expected from speaking a craft that had sighted vanderdecken," said he, very uneasily, which made me see how strong was the blow his nerves had received; and running his eyes restlessly over the water here and there, as i might tell by the dim sparkle the faint moon-haze kindled in them. "oh, but," he continued, as if dashing aside his fancies, "the mere circumstance of his being so superstitious ought to explain the act. i have often thought there was a vein of madness in him." "i never questioned that," i replied. "'tis an ugly-looking night," said he, with a little tremble running through him, "there is some menace of foul weather. we shall lose this faint air presently." he shivered again and said, "such a sight as that below is enough to make a hell of a night of midsummer beauty! it is the suddenness of it that seizes upon the imagination. why, d'ye know, fenton, i'd give a handful of guineas, poor as i am, for a rousing gale--anything to blow my mind to its bearings, for here's a sort of business," looking aloft, "that's fit to suffocate the heart in your breast." such words in so plain and literal a man made me perceive how violently he had been wrenched. i begged his leave to go below and fetch him a glass of liquor. "no, no," said he, "not yet, anyhow. i must speak to those fellows there." saying which he walked a little distance forward, calling for the boatswain. on that officer answering, he said, "are all hands on deck?" "i believe most of the crew are on deck, sir," replied the boatswain. "pipe all hands," said mr. hall. the clear keen whistling rose shrill to the sails and made as blythe a sound as could have been devised for the cheering of us up. the men gathered quickly, some lanthorns were fetched, and in the light of them stood the crew near to the round-house. a strange sight it was; the shining went no higher than half-way up the mainsail that hung steady with its own weight, and as much of it as was thus illuminated showed like cloth of gold pale in the dusk; above was mere shadow, the round-top like a drop of ink upon the face of the darkness, the sails of so weak a hue they seemed as though in the act of dissolving and vanishing away; the crowd of faces were all pale and their eyes full of gleaming; the shadows crawled at our feet, and, with the total concealment of the moon at this time, a deeper shade fell upon the sea and our ship, and the delicate rippling of the water alongside seemed to stir upon our ears in a tinkling as from out of the middle air. mr. hall made a brief speech. he explained to the men how, on hearing the report of a musket, he had sprung from his bed, and perceiving powder-smoke leaking through the openings in the door of the captain's cabin, through which some rays of light streamed, he entered, and seeing the body of the captain, and the horrid condition of the head, was filled with a panic and rushed on deck. that the master had shot himself was certain, but there was no help for what had happened. the command of the ship fell upon him; but it was for them to say whether he should navigate the ship to her destination, or carry her back to table bay, where a fresh commander could be obtained. he was very well liked on board, being an excellent seaman; and the crew on hearing this, immediately answered that they wanted no better master to sail under than he, and that, indeed, they would not consent to a change; but having said this with a heartiness that pleased me, for i liked mr. hall greatly myself, and was extremely glad to find the crew so well disposed, they fell into an awkward silence, broken after a little by some hoarse whisperings. "what now?" says mr. hall. "why, sir," answers the boatswain, respectfully, "it's this with the men: there's a notion among us that that there plymouth snow has brought ill-luck to the ship, one bad specimen of which has just happened; and the feeling is that we had better return to table bay, so as to get the influence worked out of the old barkey." "how is that to be done?" says mr. hall, coming easily into the matter, partly because of his shaken nerves, and partly because of the kindness he felt towards the hands for the way they had received his address to them. here there was another pause, and then the boatswain, speaking somewhat shyly, said, "the carpenter, who's heard tell more about the phantom ship and the spell she lays on vessels than all hands of us put together, says that the only way to work out of a ship's timbers the ill-luck that's been put into them by what's magical and hellish, is for a minister of religion to come aboard, call all hands to prayer, and ask of the lord a blessing on the ship. he says there's no other way of purifying of her." "can't we pray ourselves for a blessing?" says mr. hall. the boatswain not quickly answering, a sailor says, "it needs a man who knows how to pray--who's acquainted with the right sort of words to use." "aye," cried another, "and whose calling is religion." mr. hall half-turned, as if he would address me, then checking himself, he said, "well, my lads, there's no wind now, and small promise of any. suppose we let this matter rest till to-morrow morning; mr. fenton and i will talk it over, and you forward can turn it about in your minds. i believe we shall be easier when the captain's buried and the sun's up, and then we might agree it would be a pity to put back after the tough job we've had to get where we are. but lest you should still be all of one mind on this matter in the morning, we'll keep the ship, should wind come, under small sail, so as to make no headway worth speaking of during the night. is that to your fancy, men?" they all said it was, and thereupon went forward, but i noticed that those who were off duty did not offer to go below; they joined the watch on the forecastle, and i could hear them in earnest talk, their voices trembling through the stillness like the humming of a congregation in church following the parson's reading. mr. hall came to my side and we walked the deck. "i am sorry the men have got that notion of this ship being under a spell," said he. "this is no sweet time of the year in these seas; to put back will, i daresay, be only to anger the weather that's now quiet enough, and there's always the risk of falling into dutch hands." i told him of my talk with the carpenter, and said that i could not be surprised the crew were alarmed, for the old fellow had the devil's own knack of putting his fancies in an alarming way. "i laughed at some of his fancies," said i, "but i don't mind owning that i quitted his cabin so dulled in my spirits by his talk, that i might have come from a death-bed for all the heart there was in me." "well, things must take their chance," said mr. hall. "i'll speak to the carpenter myself in the morning, and afterwards to the men; and if they are still wishful that the ship should return to table bay we'll sail her there. 'tis all one to me. i'd liefer have a new captain over me than be one." we continued until five bells to walk to and fro the deck, talking about the captain's suicide, the strangeness of it as following his belief that ill-luck had come to the ship from the plymouth vessel, with other such matters as would be suggested by our situation and the tragedy in the cabin; and mr. hall then said he would go below for a glass of rum; but he refused to lie down--though i offered to stand an hour of his watch, that is from midnight till one o'clock--for he said he should not be able to sleep. most of the crew continued to hang about the forecastle, which rescued the deck from the extreme loneliness i had found in it ere the report of the fatal musket startled all hands into wakefulness and movement. the lanthorns had been carried away and the ship was plunged in darkness. there still blew a very light air, so gentle that you needed to wet your finger and hold it up to feel it. from the darkness aloft fell the delicate sounds of the higher canvas softly drumming the masts to the very slight rolling of the ship. i went to the binnacle and found that the vessel was heading her course, and then stepped to the rail, upon which i set my elbows, leaning my chin in my hands, and in that posture fell a-thinking. chapter x. we draw close to a strange and luminous ship. now i might have stood thus for ten minutes, when i was awakened from my dream by an eager feverish muttering of voices forward, and on a sudden the harsh notes of a seaman belonging to my watch cried out, "d'ye see that sail, right broad a-beam, sir?" i sprang from my leaning posture, and peered, but my eyes were heavy; the night was dark, and whilst i stared several of the sailors came hurriedly aft to where i stood, and said, all speaking together, "there--see her, sir? look yonder, mr. fenton!" and their arms, to a man, shot out to point, as if every one levelled a pistol. though i could not immediately make out the object, i was not surprised by the consternation the sailors were in; for, such was the mood and temper of the whole company, that not the most familiar and prosaic craft that floats on the ocean could have broken through the obscurity of the night upon their gaze without tickling their superstitious instincts, till the very hair of their heads crawled to the inward motions. in a few moments, sure enough, i made out the loom of what looked a large ship, out on the starboard beam. as well as i could distinguish she was close hauled, and so standing as to pass under our stern. she made a sort of faintness upon the sea and sky where she was: nothing more. and even to be sure of her, it was necessary to look a little on one side or the other of her; for if you gazed full she went out, as a dim distant light at sea does, thus viewed. "she may be an enemy!" i cried. "there should be no lack of dutch or even french hereabouts. quick, lads, to stations. send the boatswain here." i ran to the companion hatch and called loudly to mr. hall. he had fallen asleep on a locker, and came running in a blind sort of way to the foot of the ladder, shouting out, "what is it? what is it?" i answered that there was a large ship heading directly for us, whereupon he was instantly wide awake, and sprang up the ladder, crying, "where away? where away?" if there was any wind i could feel none. yet some kind of draught there must have been, for the ship out in the darkness held a brave luff, which proved her under command. we, on the other hand, rested upon the liquid ebony of the ocean with square yards, the mizzen furled, the starboard clew of the mainsail hoisted, and the greater number of our staysails down. whilst mr. hall stared in the direction of the ship the boatswain arrived for orders. the mate turned smartly to me, and said, "we must make ready, and take our chance. bo's'n, pipe to quarters, and mr. fenton, see all clear." for the second time in my watch the boatswain's pipe shrilled clear to the canvas, from whose stretched, still folds, the sounds broke away in ghostly echoes. we were not a man-of-war, had no drums, and to martial duties we could but address ourselves clumsily. but all felt that there might be a great danger in the pale shadow yonder that had seemed to ooze out upon our eyes from the darkness as strangely as a cloud shapes itself upon a mountain-top. so we tumbled about quickly and wildly enough, got our little batteries clear, put on the hatch-gratings and tarpaulins, opened the magazine, lighted the matches, provided the guns with spare breeches and tackles, and stood ready for whatever was to come. all this we contrived with the aid of one or two lanterns, very secretly moved about, as mr. hall did not wish us to be seen making ready; but the want of light delayed us, and, by the time we were fully prepared, the strange ship had insensibly floated down to about three-quarters-of-a-mile upon our starboard quarter. at that distance it was too black to enable us to make anything of her, but we comforted ourselves by observing that she did not offer to alter her course, whence we might reasonably hope that she was a peaceful trader like ourselves. she showed no lights--her sails were all that was visible of her, owing to the hue they put into the darkness over her hull. it was a time of heavy trial to our patience. our ship had come to a dead stand, as it was easy to discover by looking over the side, where the small, pale puffs of phosphoric radiance that flashed under water at the depth of a man's hand from our vessel's strakes whenever she rolled, no matter how daintily, to the swell, hung glimmering for a space in the selfsame spot where they were discharged. nor was there the least sound of water in motion under our counter, unless it were the gurgling, drowning sobbing you hear there on a still night, when the stern stoops to the drop of the fold, and raises that strange, hollow noise of washing all about the rudder. "i would to mercy a breeze would come if only to resolve her!" said mr. hall to me in a low voice. "there's but little fun to be got out of this sort of waiting. at this rate we must keep the men at their stations till daylight to find out what she is. pleasant if she should prove some lump of a dutch man-of-war! she shows uncommonly large, don't you think, fenton?" "so do we to her, i dare say, in this obscurity," i replied. "but i doubt that she's a man-of-war. i've been watching her closely and have never once caught sight of the least gleam of a light aboard her." "maybe the officer of the watch and the look-out are sound asleep," said he, with a slight and not very merry laugh; "and if she's steered on her quarter-deck she'll be too deep-waisted perhaps for the helmsman to see us." i heard him say this without closely heeding it, for my attention at that moment was attracted by what was unquestionably the enlargement of her pallid shadow; sure proof that she had shifted her helm and was slowly coming round so as to head for us. mr. hall noticed this as soon as i. "ha!" he cried, "they mean to find out what we are, hey? they've observed us at last. does she bring an air with her that she's under control, or is it that she's lighter and taller than we?" it was beyond question because she was lighter and taller, and having been kept close-hauled to the faint draught had made more of it than we who carried it aft. besides, we were loaded down to our chain-plate bolts with cargo, and the water and other stores we had shipped at the cape. yet her approach was so sluggish as to be imperceptible, and i would not like to say that our gradual drawing together was not as much due to the current which, off this coast, runs strong to the westward, setting us, who were deep, faster towards her than it set her from us, as it was also owing to the strange attraction which brings becalmed vessels near to each other--often indeed, to their having to be towed clear by their boats. meanwhile, the utter silence on board the stranger, the blackness in which her hull lay hidden, the strangeness of her bracing-in her yards to head up for us without any signal being shown that she designed to fight us, wrought such a fit of impatience in mr. hall, that he swung his body from the backstay he clutched in movements positively convulsive. "are they all dead aboard? on such a night as this one should be able to hear the least sound--the hauling taut of a tackle--the rasping of the wheel-ropes!" "she surely doesn't hope to catch us napping?" said i. "god knows!" cried the mate. "what would i give now for a bit of moon!" "if it's to be a fight it'll have to be a shooting match for a spell, or wind must come quickly," said i. "but if she meant mischief wouldn't she head to pass under our stern, where she could rake us, rather than steer to come broadside on?" instead of responding, the mate sprang on to the bulwark-rail, and in tones such as only the practised and powerful lungs of a seaman can fling, roared out-- "ho, the ship, ahoy!" we listened with so fierce a strain of attention that the very beating of our hearts rung in our ears; but not a sound came across the water. twice yet did mr. hall hail that pallid fabric, shapeless as yet in the dark air, but to no purpose. on this there was much whispering among the men clustered about the guns. their voices came along in a low, grumbling sound like the growling of dogs, dulled by threats. "silence, fore and aft!" cried the mate. "we don't know what she is--but we know what we are! and, as englishmen, we surely have spirit enough for whatever may come." there was silence for some minutes after these few words; then the muttering broke out afresh, but scattered, a group talking to larboard, another on the forecastle, and so forth. meanwhile the vessels, all insensibly, had continued to draw closer and closer to each other. a small clarification of the atmosphere happening past the stranger, suffered a dim disclosure of her canvas, whence i perceived that she had nothing set above her topgallant-sails, though it was impossible to see whether she carried royal-masts, or indeed whether the yards belonging to those masts were crossed on them. her hull had now also stolen out into a pitch-black shadow, and after gazing at it with painful intentness for some moments, i was extravagantly astonished to observe a kind of crawling and flickering of light, resembling that which burnt in the sea, stirring like glow-worms along the vessel's side. i was about to direct mr. hall's attention to this thing, when he said in a subdued voice, "fenton, d'ye notice the faint shining about her hull? what, in god's name, can it be?" he had scarce uttered these words when a sailor on the starboard side of our ship, whom i recognised by the voice as one ephraim jacobs, an elderly, sober, pious-minded seaman, cried out with a sort of scream in his notes-- "as i hope to be forgiven my sins for jesu's sake, yon's the ship that was curst last century." chapter xi. a cruel disaster befalls me. the mere putting into words the suspicion that had been troubling all our minds made one man in action of the whole crew, like the firing of forty pieces of ordnance in the same instant. whatever the sailors held they flung down, and, in a bound, came to the waist on the starboard side, where they stood, looking at the ship and making, amid that silence, the strangest noise that ever was heard with their deep and fearful breathing. "great thunder!" broke in one of them, presently, "d'ye know what that shining is, mates? why, it's the glow of timbers that's been rotted by near two hundred years of weather." "softly, tom!" said another; "'tis hell that owns her crew; they have the malice of devils, and they need but touch us to founder us." "wait, and you shall see her melt!" exclaimed one of the two foreigners who were among our company of seamen. "if she is, as i believe, she will be manned by the ghosts of wicked men who have perished at sea; presently a bell shall strike, and she must disappear!" as this was said there was a commotion forward, and the carpenter, borne by two stout hands, was carried into the midst of the crew, and propped up so that he might see the ship. i was as eager as any of the most illiterate sailors on board to hear what he had to say, and took a step the better to catch his words. a whole minute went by whilst he gazed; so strained and anticipative were my senses that the moments seemed as hours. he then said, "mates, yonder's the death ship, right enough. look hard, and you'll mark the steeve of her bowsprit with the round top at the end of it, and the spring of her aft in a fashion more ancient than is the ages of any two of the oldest men aboard. note the after-rake of her mizzen-mast, and how the heel of the foremast looks to step in the fore-peak. that's the ship--born in --vanderdecken master--what i've often heard tell of--raise my head, mates!" and here, whether through pain or weakness or horror, he fainted, but being laid upon the deck, and some water thrown over his face, he came to in a short while, and lay trembling, refusing to speak or answer questions. a slight thinning of the vapour that hid the moon had enabled us to remark those points in the ship the carpenter had named; and whilst he was being recovered from his swoon, the moon looked down from a gulf in the mist, but her light was still very tarnished and dim, though blurred and distorted as was her appearance, yet there instantly formed round her the same halo or wan circle that was visible before she was hidden. but her apparition made a light that exquisitely answered to those two lines of shakespeare-- "therefore the moon, the governess of floods, pale in her anger washes all the air." for such radiance as fell really seemed like a cleansing of the atmosphere after the black smother that had encompassed us, and now we could all see the ship distinctly as she lay on our quarter with her broadside somewhat to us, her yards trimmed like our own, and her sails hanging dead. it was the solemnest sight that ever mortal eye beheld. the light left her black, so there was no telling what hue she showed or was painted. her bows lay low in the water after the old fashion, with head-boards curling to her beak, that doubtless bore an ornament, though we could not distinguish it. there she rose like a hill, broken with the bulwarks that defined her waist, quarter-deck and short poop. this was as much as we could discern of her hull. her foremast stood close to where the heel of her bowsprit came; her mizzen-mast raked over her stern, and upon it was a yard answering to the rig of a felucca; the clew of its sail came down clear of a huge lantern whose iron frame, for all the glass in it was broke and gone, showed like the skeleton of some monster on her taffrail. it was a sight to terrify the stoutest heart to see the creeping of thin, worm or wire-like gleamings upon the side she showed to us. i considered at first she was glossy and that those lights were the reflection of the phosphoric fires in the water under her; but it was soon made plain that this was not so, as, though to be sure a greenish glare of the true sea-flame would show against or near her when she slightly leaned, as we did, to the swell, this charnel-house or touch-wood glimmer played all along her without regard to the phosphorescence under her. now, ever since i was first going to sea, i had, as i have said, believed in the existence of the spectre ship, which all mariners i have sailed with feared to encounter; but so many imaginative stories had come of her--some feigning, as the carpenter's version showed, that she was a death ship, filled with spectres who navigated her; others that she was a spectral bark, laden with souls, against whom the gates of purgatory were closed; others that she was a vessel for ever beating against gales of wind, sometimes appearing in a tempest that surrounded her when the rest of the ocean was smooth, sometimes rising from the waves, sometimes floating among the clouds, buffetting up there as though the masses of insubstantial vapour were solid and massy folds and acclivities; i say i had heard so many stories that they had ended in leaving me with a belief of my own, which was that the phantom ship--rightly so named--was an airy incorporeal thing--a vision to be encountered but rarely in these parts, a sea-ghost that had been too often beheld in the course of years to be denied, and as truly a spectre in its way as any that may be read of in holy writ, or that has stood at the bedsides of men and women and delivered messages from futurity. this being my belief, then, though i was mightily terrified by the ancient shape of the ship and the mystery of her purpose, and the darkness and silence that clothed her, i could not believe that she was the true spectre that the sailor dreads; for, that she was as substantial as our vessel--"a quarry of stout spurs and knotted fangs"--was undeniable, not more from her quiet, heaving motion than from the dull sounds i had now and again caught of the movement of her gear aloft, such as the scraping of a rope in a block, or the soft slap of a cloth against a spar by the heave of the fabric setting some light sail a-fanning. "what think you of her, fenton?" said mr. hall, speaking softly, but with much of his excitement and uneasiness gone. "does she resemble the craft that the master of the snow told captain skevington he sighted hereabouts?" "why, yes, i think so," said i; "but it does not follow that she is the phantom ship. the plymouth hooker's yarn owed a good deal to terror, and it would not lose in its passage through the brain of a lunatic, as i fear poor skevington was." "she has a very solid look--she is a real ship, but the like of her i have never seen, save in old prints. mark those faint fiery stripes and spirals upon her. i do not understand it. the wood that yields such light must be as rotten as tinder and porous as a sponge. it could not swim." by this time the mysterious ship had floated out her whole length, unless it were our vessel that had slewed and given us that view of her. no light save the lambent gleams on her sides was to be seen. we could hear no voices. we could discern no movement of figures or distinguish any outline resembling a human shape upon her. on a sudden, my eye was caught by an illumination overhead that made a lustre strong enough to enable me to see the face of mr. hall. i looked up conceiving that one of our crew had jumped aloft with a lantern, and saw at our main yard-arm a _corpus sant_ or st. elmo's light, that shone freely like a luminous bulb, poised a few inches above the spar. scarce had this been kindled, and whilst it was paling the faces of our seamen who stared at it, there suddenly shone two bright meteors of a similar kind upon the strange ship; one on top of the topgallant-masthead that was the full height of the main spars, and one on the summit of a mast that stood up from the round top at the end of the bowsprit and that in olden times, before it was discontinued, would have been called the sprit-topmast. they had something of the glory of stars; their reflection twisted like silver serpents in the dark waters; and as though they had been flambeaux or lamps, they flung their spectral glow upon the strangely-cut sails of the vessel, upon her rigging and spars, sickling all things to their starry colour, dimly illuminating even the distant castle-like poop, showing clearly the dark line of bulwarks, whilst a deeper dye of blackness entered into the hull from the shadow between the _corpus sants_ on high and their mirroring beneath. "thanks be to god for the sight of those lights!" exclaimed a deep voice, sounding out among the men. "it's a saint's hand as kindles them, i've heared; and there'll be a breeze with luck behind it presently." "see, mr. hall!" cried i, pointing; "do you observe the figures of men? look along the line of the forecastle--one, two, three--i count six there; and look right aft on that bit of a poop. do you mark a couple of shapes viewing us as if with folded arms?" "yes!" he paused, staring, then added, "those lights are familiar enough to me, i've seen them scores of times," speaking in whispers, which trembled back to their former notes of consternation, "but there's something frightful about them now--and yonder one," pointing to our yard-arm, "and the sight they show. she's no natural ship," he said, pulling off his cap, and passing his hand over his forehead. "would to god a breeze would come and part us." "hail him again, sir!" "hail him you, my throat is dry." i walked right aft to bring me more abreast of the silent motionless figures on the stranger's poop, and jumping on to the rail caught hold of the vang of the spanker-gaff to steady myself, and putting a hand to my mouth, roared out, "ship ahoy! what ship is that?" and stopped breathless, so that i seemed to hear the echoes of my own voice among the sails of the stranger. "what ship is that?" now came back in a deep, organ-like note, and the two figures separated, one walking forward, and the other stepping, as i had, on to the bulwark over the quarter-gallery. "the saracen, of london, bound to indian ports," i responded. "i will send a boat!" cried the man, in the same deep-throated voice. "if you do, we'll fire into it!" screamed a seaman on our deck. "mates--mr. hall, you see now what he is! keep them off!--keep them off!" at which there was a sudden hurrying of feet, with many clicking sounds of triggers sharply cocked, by which i knew our men had armed themselves. the _corpus sant_ at our yard-arm vanished; in a few seconds it showed itself afresh midway up the mainmast, making a wild light all around it; those on the stranger burned steadily, and i believed a third had been kindled on her till i saw it was a lantern carried along the deck. there was a stillness lasting some minutes. what they were about we could not see; anon came a creaking, as of ropes travelling in blocks, then a light splash; the lantern dropped jerkily down the ship's side, plainly grasped by a man; flashes of phosphorus broke out of the water to the dip of oars, like fire clipped from a flint. i felt a faint air blowing, but did not heed it, being half-frenzied with the excitement and fear raised in me by what i could now see--thanks to the light of the st. elmo fires, and the mystic crawlings of flames on the vessel's sides. i saw a boat, square at both ends, with the gunwale running out into horns, rowed by two figures, whilst a third stood upright in the bows, holding high a lighted lantern in one hand, and extending his other arm in a posture of supplication. at this instant a yellow glare broke in a noon-tide dazzle from our own ship's rail, and the thunder of twenty muskets fired at once fell upon my hearing. i started with the violence of the shock breaking in upon me, heedlessly let go the vang that i had been grasping with my left hand, and fell headlong overboard. chapter xii. i am rescued by the death ship. i rose to the surface from a deep plunge, but being a very indifferent swimmer it was as much as i could do--clothed as i was--to keep myself afloat by battling with my hands. i heard the rippling of the water about my ears, and i felt a deep despair settle upon my spirits, for i knew that the air that blew would carry my ship away from me and that i must speedily drown. indeed, to the first impulse of wind the saracen had moved and i could see her, a great shadow, drawing away with the _corpus sant_, that a minute before had sparkled on her mainmast, now shining on her fore-topsail yard-arm. i had not the least doubt that, in the noise of the shooting, and amid the general alarm excited by the approach of the boat, neither the splash i had made in striking the water nor my disappearance had been noticed, and i remember thinking with the swiftness peculiar to persons in my situation--for as cowper says-- "he long survives who lives an hour in ocean self-upheld----" i say i remember thinking that even if i should be immediately missed it was most unlikely the crew would suffer mr. hall to stop the ship and seek for me, for they would be mad not to use the new wind and sweep away from waters accurst by the presence of what was undoubtedly the death ship, whilst if even mr. hall's persuasion should prevail, yet long before that time i should have sunk. i struggled hard to keep myself afloat, freely breaking the water in the hope that the light and whiteness of it might be seen. four or five minutes thus passed and i was feeling my legs growing weighty as lead, when i noticed a light approach me. my eyes being full of wet, i could see no more than the light, what held or bore it being eclipsed by the spikes or fibres that shot out of it; as you notice a candle flame when the sight is damp. i could also hear the dip and trickle of oars, and tried to shout; but my brain was giddy, my mind sinking into a babbling state, and in truth i was so exhausted, that but for the sudden life darted into me by the sight of the lamp, i am sure i should then and there have clenched my hands above my head and sunk. the lantern was flashed full upon my face and i was grasped by my hair. he who seized me spoke, and i believed it was the voice of one of the men in my watch, though i did not catch a syllable of his speech. after which i felt myself grasped under each arm and lifted out of the water, whereupon i no doubt fainted, for there is a blank between this and what followed, though the interval must have been very short. when i opened my eyes, or rather when my senses returned to me, i found myself lying on my back, and the first thing i noticed was the moon shining weakly amid thin bodies of vapour which the wind had set in motion and which sped under her in puffs like the smoke of gunpowder after the discharge of a cannon. i lay musing a little while, conscious of nothing but the moon and some dark stretches of sail hovering above me; but my mind gathering force, i saw by the cut of the canvas that i was on board a strange ship; and then did i observe three men standing near my feet watching me. a great terror seized my heart. i sprang erect with a loud cry of fear, and rushed to the rail to see if the saracen was near that i might hail her, but was stayed in that by being seized by the arm. he who clutched me exclaimed in dutch, "what would you do? if you could swim for a week you would not catch her." i perfectly understood him, but made no reply, did not even look at him, staring about the sea for the saracen in an anguish of mind not to be expressed. suddenly i caught sight of the smudge of her, and perceived she was heading away on her course; she was out on our starboard beam. i cast my eyes aloft, and found the yards of the ship i was in braced up to meet the wind on the larboard tack, whence i knew that every instant was widening the space between the two vessels. on mastering this i could have dashed myself down on the deck with grief and terror. one of the group observing me as if i should fall, extended his hand, but i shrunk back with horror, and covered my face, whilst deep hysteric sobs burst from my breast, for now, without heeding any further appearances, i knew that i was on board the phantom ship, the sea spectre, dreaded of marines, a fabric accurst by god, in the presence of men dead and yet alive, more terrible in their supernatural existence, in their clothing of flesh whose human mortality had been rendered undecaying by a fate that shrunk up the soul in one to think of, than had they been ghosts--essences through which you might pass your hand as through a moonbeam! i stood awhile as though paralysed, but was presently rallied by the chill of the night wind striking through my streaming clothes. a lantern was near where the three men were grouped, no doubt the same that had been carried in the boat, but the dim illumination would have sufficed for no more than to throw out the proportion of things within its sphere, had it not been helped by the faint moonlight and a _corpus sant_ that shone with the power of a planet close against the blocks of the jeers of the mainyard. 'twas a ghostly radiance to behold the men in, but i found nerve now to survey them. there were three, as i have said: one very tall, above six feet, with a grey--almost white--beard, that descended to his waist; the second was a broad, corpulent man, of the true dutch build without hair on his face; in the third man i could see nothing striking, if it were not for a ruggedness of seafaring aspect. i could not distinguish their apparel beyond that the stout man wore boots to the height of his knees, whereas the tall personage was clad in black hose, shoes with large buckles, and breeches terminating at the knees; their head-dresses were alike, a sort of cap of skin, with flaps for the ears. "do you speak dutch?" said the tallest of the three, after eyeing me in silence whilst a man could have counted a hundred. he it was who had responded to my hail from the saracen, as my ear immediately detected--now that i had my faculties--by the deep, organ-like melodiousness and tremor of his voice. i answered "yes." "why were your people afraid of us? we intended no harm. we desired but a little favour--a small quantity of tobacco, of which we are short." this speech i followed, though some of the words, or the pronunciation of them, were different from what i had been used to hear at rotterdam. he spoke imperiously, with a hint even of passion, and, rearing himself to his full stature, clasped his hands behind him, and stared at me as some indian king might at a slave. "sir," said i, speaking brokenly, for i was a slow hand at his tongue, and besides, the chill of my clothes was now become a pain, "first let me ask what ship is this, and who are you and your men who have rescued me from death?" "the name of this ship is the braave," he answered, in his deep, solemn voice. "i, who command the vessel, am known as cornelius vanderdecken; the three seamen, to whom you owe your life, are frederick houtman, john de bremen, and this man," indicating the rough, uncouth person who stood on his left, "the mate, herman van vogelaar." i felt a sensation as of ice pressed to my chest when he pronounced his own name, yet, recollecting he had called his ship the braave, i asked, though 'twas wonderful he could follow my utterance-- "what port do you belong to?" "amsterdam." "where are you from?" "batavia." i said, "when did you sail?" "on the twenty-second of july in last year! by the glory of the holy trinity, but it is dreary work; see how the wind heads us even yet!" he sighed deeply and glanced aloft in a manner that suggested grievous weariness. "last year!" i thought, a sudden elation expanding my soul and calming me as an opiate might, "if that be so why, then, though this ship had made a prodigiously long voyage of it from java to these parallels, there is nothing wildly out of nature in such tardiness." last year! had i caught the true signification of the words he used? "pray, sir," said i, speaking in as firm a voice as the shivers which chased me permitted, "what might last year be?" the mate, van vogelaar, growled out some exclamation i could not catch, the captain made a gesture with his hands, whilst their burly companion said in thick, dutch accents, "it needs not salt water, but good, strong liquor to take away a hollander's brain." "last year!" exclaimed vanderdecken, unbending his haughty, imperious manner, "why, mynheer, what should be last year but ?" chapter xiii. wy zyn al verdomd. when he said this i felt like one in whom there is suddenly wrought a dual action of the brain; where from one side, so to say, there is darted into the mind thoughts utterly illogical and insane, which the same side marvels at, and seeks to reject, though if the fit linger the whole intelligence may be seized. i recollect of seeking for confirmation of the words of the man who styled himself vanderdecken, in the ship, and of noticing, for the first time, that upon the planks of the deck which were out of the reach of the _corpus sant_, were the same crawling, elusive fires, as of phosphorus, creeping and coming and going upon a dark wall, which i had observed on the vessel's sides. several figures of men moved forward. close beside me was a small gun of the kind carried by ships in the beginning of the last century, termed a light saker, and discharging a six-pound ball. there were three of these on the larboard side, and, in the haze of the moonlight and the sheen of the jelly-like star that shone with a pure, pale gold over my head, i could discern upon the bulwarks of the quarter-deck and poop several swivels furnished with handles for pointing them. i also observed a short flight of steps conducting to the quarter-deck, with two sets of a like kind leading to the poop, the front of which was furnished with a door and little window. these matters i took in with a sweep of the eye, for the light was confusing, a faint, erroneous ray glancing from imperfect surfaces and flinging half an image; and then an indescribable fear possessing me again, i looked in the direction where i had last beheld the smudge made by the saracen, and, not seeing her, cried out wildly, in my broken dutch, "sirs, for the love of god follow my ship, and make some signals that she may know i am here!" "skipper," exclaimed the smooth-faced, corpulent man, who proved to be the boatswain, named antony jans, "after their cowardly inhumanity in firing upon a small unarmed boat, and putting in peril the life of our mate, van vogelaar, we should have nothing more to do with her." "henceforth this englishman will know that the dutch are a merciful people," said van vogelaar, scornfully. "had our nationalities been reversed, he would have been left to drown as a tribute to the courage of his comrades." whilst this was said, vanderdecken continued to regard me steadfastly and with great sternness, then on a sudden relaxing his frown, he exclaimed in that wondrous voice of his, which put a solemn music into his least utterance: "come, you shiver with the cold, and have the look of the drowned. jans, send prins to me; sir, please to follow." he motioned in a haughty manner towards the poop and walked that way. one desperate look i cast round the sea, and then with a prayer to god that this experience might prove some eclipse of my reason from which my mind would float out bright afresh ere long, i followed the great figure of the captain, but with a step so faltering from weakness and grief, that he, perceiving my condition, took me by the elbow and supported me up the ladder to the cabin under the poop. whether it was this courtesy or owing to a return of my manhood--and i trust the reader will approve the candour with which i have confessed my cowardice--whatever might be the reason, i began now to look about me with a growing curiosity. the interior into which captain vanderdecken conducted me, was of a dingy yellowish hue, such as age might complexion delicate white paint with. an oil lamp of a very beautiful, elegant and rare pattern, furnished with eight panes of glass, variously and all choicely coloured with figures of birds, flowers and the like, though the opening at the bottom let the white light of the oil-flame fall fair on to the table and the deck, swung by a thin chain from a central beam. the cabin was the width of the ship, and on its walls were oval frames, dusky as old mahogany, each one, as i suspected, holding a painting. over the door by which the cabin was entered was a clock and near it hung a cage with a parrot in it. of ports i could see no remains, and supposed that by day all the light that entered streamed through the windows on either side the door. the deck was dark as with age. at the after end there were two state cabins bulkheaded off from the living room, each with a door. the several colours of the lamp caused it to cast a radiance like a rainbow, and therefore it was hard to make sure of objects amid such an intricacy of illumination; but, as i have said, the sides of the cabin were a sickly dismal yellow, and the furniture in it was formed of a very solid square table, with legs marvellously carved, and a box beneath it, two benches on either hand, and a black high-backed chair--the back of withered velvet, the wood framing it cut into many devices--at the head or sternmost end of it. all these things were matters to be quickly noticed. the captain, first removing his cap, pointed to a bench, and lifting his finger, with a glance at the starboard cabin, said in a low tone, "sir, if you speak be it softly, if you please," and then directed his eyes towards the entrance from the deck, standing erect, with one hand on the table, and manifestly waiting for the person he had styled prins to arrive. a ruby-coloured lustre was upon his face; his waist down was in the white lamplight. he had a most noble port, i thought, such an elevation of the head, such disdainful and determined erectness of figure, as made his posture royal. there was not the least hint in his face of the dutch flatness and insipidity of expression one is used to in those industrious but phlegmatic people. his nose was aquiline, the nostrils hidden by the moustachios which mingled with his noble druidical beard. his forehead was square and heavy, his hair was scanty, yet abundant enough to conceal the skin of his head; his eyes were black, impassioned, relentless, and a ruby star now shone in each which gave them a forbidding and formidable expression as they moved under the shadow of his shaggy brows. he wore a coat of stout cloth confined by buttons, and a belt round his waist. this, with his small clothes which i have described, formed a very puzzling apparel, the like of which i had never seen. there were no rents, nor darns nor patches--nothing to indicate that his attire was of great age. yet there was something in this commanding person that caused me to know, by feelings deeper than awe or even fear, by instincts indeed not explicable, such as must have urged in olden times the intelligence to the recognition of those supernatural beings you read of in scripture, that he was not as i was, as are other men who bear their natural parts in the procession from the cradle to the grave. the tremendous and shocking fears of captain skevington recurred to me, and methought as i gazed at the silent, majestic seaman, that the late master of the saracen who, by his ending, had shown himself a madman might, as had other insane persons in their time, have struck in one of his finer frenzies upon a horrible truth; the mere fear of which caused me to press my hands to my eyes with a renewal of mental anguish, and to entreat in a swift prayer to that being, whom he who stood before me had defied, for power to collect my mind and for quick deliverance from this awful situation. not a syllable fell from the captain till the arrival of prins, a parched-faced, bearded man, habited in a coarse woollen shirt, trousers of the stuff we call fearnought, and an old jacket. he made nothing of my presence nor condition, scarce glancing at me. "get this englishman a change of clothes," said the captain. "take what may be needful from my cabin. they will hang loose on him but must serve till his own are dry. quick! you see he shivers." all this was expressed in dutch, but as i have before said, of an antique character, and therefore not quickly to be followed; whence i will not pretend that i give exactly all that was spoken, though the substance of it is accurately reported. the man styled prins went to the larboard cabin at the end, whilst the captain, going to the table, pulled from under it a great drawer, which i had taken to be a chest, from which he lifted a silver goblet and a strangely-fashioned stone bottle. "drink, sir," he exclaimed, with a certain arrogant impetuosity in his way of pouring out the liquor and extending the goblet. 'twas neat brandy, and the dose a large mouthful; i tossed down the whole of it, and placed the goblet, that was very heavy and sweetly chased, on the table with a bow of thanks. "that will put fire into your blood," said he, returning the cup and bottle to the drawer, and then folding his arms and looking at me under his contracted brows, with his back to the lantern whilst he leaned against the table. "are you fresh from your country?" i told him that we had sailed in april from the thames, and had lately come out of table bay. "is there peace between your nation and mine?" he inquired, speaking softly, as though he feared to awaken some sleeper, though, let his utterance be what it would, 'twas always melodious and rich. i answered, "no; it grieves me to say it, but our countries are still at war. i will not pretend, sir, that great britain has acted with good faith towards the batavian republic; their high mightinesses resent the infraction of treaties; they protest against the manner in which the island of st. eustatia was devastated; they hope to recover the cape of good hope, and likewise their possessions in the indies, more particularly their great coromandel factory." mere courtesy would have taught me to speak as soothingly as possible of such things, though, but for the brandy, i doubt if my teeth would not have chattered too boisterously for the utterance of even the few words i delivered. in honest truth, i felt an unspeakable awe and fear in addressing this man, who surveyed me with the severest, most scornful gaze imaginable from the height of his regal stature. "of what are you speaking?" he exclaimed, after a frowning stare of amazement; then waved his hand with a gesture half of pity, half of disdain. "you have been perilously close to death," he continued, "and this idle babble will settle into good sense when you have shifted and slept." he smiled contemptuously with a half-look around, as though he sought another of his own kind to address, and said as one thinking aloud, "if tromp and evertzens and de witt and de ruyter have not yet swept them off the seas 'tis only because they have not had time to complete the easy task!" as he said this the clock over the door struck two. the chimes had a hollow, cathedral-like sound, as though indeed it was the clock of a cathedral striking in the distance. glancing at the direction whence these notes issued, i was just in time to witness the acting of an extraordinary piece of mechanism, that is to say, there arose to the top of the clock-case, that was of some species of metal--the dial plate of blue enamel protected with horn instead of glass--there arose, i say, the figure of a skeleton, imitated to the life, holding in one hand an hour-glass on which he turned his eyeless sockets by a movement of the head, whilst with the other hand he grasped a lance or spear that, as i afterwards perceived, he flourished to every stroke of the clock-bell, as though he pierced something prostrate at his feet. the figure shrank into the inside of the clock when the chimes were over. as if to complete the bewilderment under which i laboured, scarce had the second chime of the clock rung its last vibration, when a harsh voice croaked out in dutch-- "wy zyn al verdomd!" i started, and cried out involuntarily and faintly, "my god!" "it was the parrot that spoke," said captain vanderdecken, with a softening of his looks, though he did not smile. "tis the only sentence she seems able to pronounce. it was all she could say when i bought her." "have you had her long, sir?" i inquired, feeling as though i lay a-dreaming. "i bought her from a chinaman of batavia two days before we sailed as a gift for my eldest daughter----" here he was interrupted by the arrival of prins. "the clothes are ready, skipper," said he. on this vanderdecken, motioning me to be silent--a piece of behaviour that was as puzzling as all other things--conducted me to the cabin from which prins had emerged, and viewing the clothes upon the bed, said, "yes, they will do; wear them, mynheer, till yours have been dried. leave this door on the hook, you will then get light enough for your purpose from yonder lamp." the dress consisted of warm knitted stockings, breeches of an old pattern, and a coat with a great skirt embellished with metal buttons, several of which were missing, and the remains of some gold lace upon the cuffs. in addition, there was a clean linen shirt, and a pair of south american hide boots, fawn-coloured. 'twas like clothing myself for a masquerade to dress in such things, but for all that i was mighty pleased and grateful to escape from my own soaked attire, which by keeping the surface of the body cold prohibited my nerves from regaining their customary tone. i went to work nimbly, observing that captain vanderdecken waited for me, and was soon shifted, but not before i had viewed the cabin, which i found to be spacious enough. the bed was curious, being what we term a four-poster, the upper ends of the posts cleated to the ceiling, whilst the lower legs were in the form of dolphins, and had one time been gilt with gold. there were curtains to it of faded green silk--as i judged--ragged in places. there were lockers, a small table, on which lay a fore-staff, or cross-staff as it was often called, a rude ancient instrument used for measuring the altitude of the sun before the introduction of hadley's quadrant, and formed of a wooden staff, having a scale of degrees and parts of degrees marked upon it, and cross-pieces which could be moved along it. by it stood a sand-glass for turning to tell the time by. against the bulkhead that separated this from the adjoining cabin were hung two ox-eyed mirrors, the frames whereof had been gilt, also four small paintings in oak-coloured borders richly beaded. i could see that they were portraits of females, dim, the hues being faded. the ceiling of this cabin showed traces of having been, once on a time, very handsomely painted with the hand. other things i noticed were a copper speaking-trumpet and an ancient perspective glass--such as poets of vanderdecken's time would style an optic tube--very weighty, and formed of two tubes. this thing stood on brackets, under which hung a watch, of as true a sphere as an orange, and of the size of one. indeed, look where you would, you could not fail to guess how stout and noble a ship this braave, as her captain named her, must have been in those distant years which witnessed her birth. my costume made me feel ridiculous enough, for, whereas the boots might have belonged to a period when shelvocke and clipperton were plundering the spaniards in the south seas, the coat was of a fashion of about thirty years past, whilst the breeches were such as merchant captains and mates wore when i was first going to sea. however, being changed and dry, i stepped forth, bearing my wet clothes with me, but they were immediately taken from me by prins, who had been standing near the door unperceived by me. on my appearing, captain vanderdecken rose from the chair at the head of the table, but seemed to find nothing in my dress to amuse him. the vari-coloured light was extremely confusing, and it was with the utmost pains that i could discern the expression of his face, but, so far as i made out, it was one of extreme melancholy, touched with lights and shades by his moods, which yet left the prevailing character unchanged. indeed, the dreadful fancies of captain skevington smote me fiercely once again, for, as i live to say it, the countenance of this tall and haughty seaman did suggest to me the melancholy you notice on the face of the dead--meaningless as that look in them may be--but in his case irradiated by the tints and expressions of vitality, insomuch that i fully felt the force of the remark the master of the plymouth snow had made to captain skevington touching the man he had seen on board the death ship, namely, that he was a corpse artificially animated and most terrible to behold for his suggestions of death-in-life. "will you go to rest?" said he. "i am willing to do whatever you desire," said i. "your kindness is great and i thank you for it." "ay," he replied, "spite of the war i'd liefer serve an englishman than one of any other country. the old and the young commonwealths should be friends. on either hand there are mighty hearts, you in your blakes, your ayscues, your monks; we in our van tromp, whom the king of denmark, to my great joy before i sailed, honourably justified to the people of holland, and in van galen, ruyter, with other skilled and lion-hearted men, whom i shall glory in greeting on my return." he seemed to reflect a moment, and suddenly cried, with a passionate sparkle in his eyes, "but 'twas cowardly in your captain to order his men to fire upon our boat. what did we seek? such tobacco as you could have spared, which we were willing to purchase. by the vengeance of heaven, 'twas a deed unworthy of englishmen." i did not dare explain the true cause, and said, gently, "sir, our captain lay dead in his cabin. the men, missing the chief, fell into a panic at the sight of this ship, for she showed large in the dusk, and we feared you meant to lay us aboard." "enough!" he exclaimed, imperiously. "follow me to your cabin." he led the way on to the deck and we descended the quarter-deck ladder. chapter xiv. my first night in the death ship. i had been in too great a confusion of mind to heed the movements of the ship whilst i was under cover, but on emerging i now noticed that it had come on to blow very fresh. the vessel under larboard tacks--i could not see what canvas she carried--lay along very much, being light and tall, and rolled with peculiar clumsiness in the hollows. i caught sight of the water over the weather-rail, and judged with the eye of a seaman that what progress she was making was wholly leeway; so that we were being blown dead to the eastward, without probably "reaching," as it is termed, by so much as half-a-knot an hour. the moon was now deep in the west and showing a very wan and stormy disk. north-west, where the land lay, the sea looked to rise into a fluid blackness of thunder-clouds, wherefrom even as i glanced that way there fell a red gash of lightning. there was a heavy sound of seething and bombarding billows all about us, and the whole picture had a wildness past language, what with the scarlet glare of the northern levin-brands and the ghastly tempestuous paleness of the westering moon and a dingy faintness owing its existence to i know not what, if it were not the light of the foaming multitudinous surge reflected upon the sooty bosoms of the lowering clouds over our stern. captain vanderdecken stood for a moment looking round upon this warring scene, and flung up his arms towards the moon with a passionate savage gesture, and then strode to a narrow hatch betwixt the limits of the quarter-deck and the mainmast, down which he went, first turning to see if i followed. i now found myself in a kind of 'tween-decks, with two cabins on either hand, in the doorway of the fore one, on the starboard side, stood the man prins, holding a small lantern. "this, sir," said vanderdecken, pointing to the cabin, "must serve you for a sleeping room; it has not the comfort of an inn, but 'tis easy to see you are a sailor, and, therefore, one to whom a plank will often be a soft couch. in any case, here is accommodation warmer than the bottom of the ocean." with a cold and condescending salute he withdrew. prins hung the lantern on to a rail beside the door, and said he would return for it shortly. i wanted to ask the man some questions about the ship and her commander, but there was something about him so scaring and odd that i could not summon up heart to address him. he appeared as one in whom all qualities of the soul are dead, acting, in sooth, like a sleep-walker, giving me not the least heed whatever, and going about his business as mechanically as the skeleton in the cabin clock rose and darted his lance to the chimes of the bell. the compartment in which i was to sleep was empty of all furniture saving a locker that served as a seat as well as a box, and a wooden sleeping-place, formed of planks, secured to the side, in which, in lieu of a mattress, were a couple of stout blankets, tolerably new, and a sailor's bag, filled with straw, for a pillow. i was wearied to the bone, yet not sleepy, and lay me down in my strange clothes without so much as removing my boots, and in a few minutes prins arrived and took away the light, and there i was in pitch darkness. and yet i should not say this, for, though to be sure no sensible reflection penetrated the blackness, yet when the lamp was removed and my eyes had lost the glare of it, i beheld certain faint crawlings and swarmings of phosphoric light upon the beams and bulkheads, such as were noticeable upon the outside of the ship, only not so strong. i likewise observed a cold and ancient smell, such as i recollect once catching the breath of in the hold of a ship that had been built in and which people in the year or thereabouts viewed as a curiosity. otherwise there was nothing else remarkable. whatever this vessel might be, her motion on the seas was as natural as that of the saracen, only that her wallowing was more ponderous and ungainly. yet, merciful heaven! how did every bulkhead groan, how did every timber complain, how did every treenail cry aloud! the noise of the labouring was truly appalling; the creaking, straining, jarring, as though the whole fabric were being dashed to pieces. i had not immediately noticed this when i followed captain vanderdecken below, but it grew upon my ears as i lay in the blackness. yet they were natural sounds, and as such they afforded a sort of relief to my strained brain and nervous, yea, and affrighted imagination. the stillness of a dead calm would have maddened me, i truly believe. phantasms and other horrors of my fancy, rendered delirious by the situation into which i had been plunged, would have played their parts upon that stage of blackness, hideous with the vault-like stirring of the glow of rotted timber, to the destruction of my intellect, but for the homely thunder of the sea without and the crazy echoes within. i asked myself what ship was this? that she had a supernatural life, that he who styled himself vanderdecken--which tradition reported was the name of the master of the phantom ship, though it has been averred that his real name was bernard fokke--i say that he and the others i had seen, more particularly the man prins, had something goblin-like about them, something that carried them far out of the range of our common humanity, spite of the majestic port, the noble presence, the thrilling tones, like the music of distant summer thunder, of the commander, i could no more question than the beating of my own heart as i lay a-thinking. i knew by what i had heard and viewed already, even in the brief hours packed full of consternation, during which i had been on her, that i was aboard of the flying dutchman, the phantom ship, the death ship, the sea spectre, as she has variously been termed. yet there was so much to puzzle me that i was fit to lapse into idiotcy. if vanderdecken had sailed from batavia in , why did he speak of it as last year? if the death ship was a ghostly object, impalpable, an essence only as is a spirit, why was this vessel so substantial that, heavily as she resounded with the crazy echoes of her material state, no first-rate could hold a stouter conflict with the seas? if she had been battling off the agulhas for one hundred and forty-three years, how came she to have oil and waste for her lanterns, clothes such as i wore, such as the men i had seen were habited in, brandy, blankets almost new like those i lay on, and other stores; for i might be sure, from the jar of brandy the captain had produced, that the crew ate and drank as all men do and must! these and other points i could not reconcile to my conviction that the ship i was aboard of was the craft dreaded by all men because of the great god's ban upon her and the misfortunes she brought to others with the very winds which filled her canvas. i would have given all i owned--though, alack! that would have been small enough if i lost what belonged to me in the saracen--for leave to keep the deck, but i did not venture for fear of incurring the displeasure of vanderdecken. so for several hours did i lay broad awake in my black dungeon of a cabin, watching the loathsome, ghostly phosphoric glow all about me, and listening to the bellowing of the wind that had grown into a storm, and marking the furious rolling of the ship, whose wild inner creakings put a note of frenzy into the thunder of the gale; but never once hearing the sound of a human call nor the echo of a man's tread, i then fell asleep, but not before the dawn had broken, as i might tell by the radiance, which was little better than an ashen twilight, that streamed down the hatch and showed in an open space above the cabin door. chapter xv. i inspect the flying dutchman. i had scarcely fully woke up, when the man prins opened the cabin door and peered in, and perceiving me to be awake, he entered bearing a metal pitcher of water, an earthenware dish, and a rough cloth for drying the skin. he put down the dish so that it could not slide, for the ship was rolling very heavily, and then poured water into it, and said, as he was in the act of withdrawing with the pitcher, "the skipper is on the poop." i answered by asking him for my clothes. he shook his bearded, parchment-coloured face and said: "they are still sodden," and immediately went out. i might have guessed they could not be dry, but i presented so hideous a figure in the apparel that had been lent to me that i should have been glad to resume my own coat and breeches, wet or no wet; but there was no help for it. i rose and plunged my face in the cold water, used my fingers for a comb, which sufficed, since i commonly wore my hair rough, having much of it and hating a tye, and putting on my hat that had held to my head in the water, and that had not been taken from me to dry, i stepped out of the cabin, climbed the steps that led through the hatch, and gained what was in former times termed the upper deck; for let me make you understand me by explaining that, beginning right aft, first there was a poop-deck elevated above the quarter-deck, which in its turn was raised above the upper-deck, along which you walked till you arrived at the forecastle that went flush or level to the bows and was fortified by tall, stout bulwarks, with ports for fore-chasers. for some considerable while i stood near the hatch gazing about me, as this was my first view of the ship by daylight. right opposite soared the mainmast, an immensely thick "made" spar, weightier than we should now think of using for a craft twice this vessel's size; the top was a large circular platform, protected by a fence-work half as tall as a man, looped for the projection of pieces such as culverins, matchlocks and the like. under the top hung the mainyard, the sail was reefed and the yard had been lowered, and it lay at an angle that made me understand that but little was to be done with this ship on a bowline. the shrouds, which were very stout, though scarce one of them was of the thickness of another, came down over the side to the channels there, and the ratlines were all in their places, only that here again there was great inequality in the various sizes of the stuff used. there were iron hoops round the masts, all of them rusty, cankered, and some of them nearly eaten up. i looked at the coaming of the hatch, and observing a splinter, put my hand to it and found the wood so rotten that methought it would powder, and i turned the piece about betwixt my thumb and forefinger, but the miraculous qualities of the accursed fabric were in it and iron could not have been more stubborn to my pinching. the guns, which i had on the previous night recognised as an ancient kind of ordnance called sakers, were as rusty and eaten into as the mast-hoops. how am i, who have no paint but ink, no brush but a goose-quill, to convey to you an idea of the mouldiness and rottenness of this ship? 'twas easy to guess why she glowed at night, when you saw the rail of her bulwarks and marked a rugged unevenness such as i might liken to the jagged edge you observe through a telescope in the moon on the side where the earth's shadow is, as though time had teeth, indeed, and was for ever gnawing at these banned and sea-tossed timbers as rats at a floor. there lay a great hatchway in front of the mainmast covered with tarpaulings, handsomely mended in a score of places. these matters i took in with a sailor's quickness; also that the ship was blowing away to leeward under reefed courses, above which no canvas was shown; also that the foresail and mainsail had a very dingy, collier-like look, and had manifestly been patched and repaired many times over, though whether their capacity of standing to a gale was due to the cloth being stout and substantial still, or because of their endevilment, i could not tell, nor did i like to conjecture. there was no one to be seen, but, as i afterwards found out, that was because the crew were at breakfast below. i ascended the quarter-deck, and, perceiving vanderdecken standing on the poop, went up to him, touching my hat as a sailor's salute; but the coat i was rigged out in was so outrageously clumsy and ample, that the wind, which blew very hard indeed, filling and distending the skirts of it, was within an ace of upsetting me, but, happily, a lurch of the ship swept me towards a mizzen backstay, to which i contrived to cling until i had recovered my breath and the surprise i was under. there was a small house in the middle of this poop, about ten feet from where the head of the tiller would come when amidships, possibly designed for the convenience of the captain and officers for making their calculations when in narrow waters, and for the storing of their marine instruments, flags and the like. be that as it may, captain vanderdecken beckoned me to it, and under the lee of it the shelter was such as to enable us to easily converse. i looked at him as closely as i durst. his eyes were extraordinarily piercing and passionate, with the cruel brilliance in them such as may be noticed in the insane; the lower part of his face was hidden in hair, but the skin of as much of it as was visible, for his cap was dragged low down upon his brows, was pale, of a haggard sallowness, expressed best in paintings of the dead where time has produced the original whiteness of the pigment. it was impossible that i should have observed this in him in the mani-coloured lamplight of the preceding night. yet did not his graveyard complexion detract from the majesty and imperiousness of his mien and port. i could readily conceive that the defiance of his heart would be hell-like in obstinacy, and that here was a man whose pride and passions would qualify him for a foremost place among the most daring of those fallen spirits of whom our glorious poet has written. he was habited as when i first saw him. we stood together against this deck-house, and whilst he remained silent for some moments, meanwhile keeping his eyes fixed on me, my gaze went from him to the ship and the sea around us. it was a thick, leaden, angry morning; such weather as we had had a dose of in that storm i wrote about, and of which forerunners might have been found on the preceding night in the lightning in the north-west and in the halo that girdled the moon. the wind was west-north-west; the seas had the height and weight you find in that vast ocean, amid whose hollows we were driving; 'twas all greyness and a flying of spumy rain and a heavy roaring coming from the head of every sea as it arched its summit for the thunderous downwards rush that filled the valley at its foot with a boiling of white water. the sky was a hard leaden blankness; and whenever there came a break of faintness amid the seemingly stirless ceiling of vapour, you would see the scud, thin and brown, like drainings of smoke from a chimney-pot, flying with incredible velocity to the east and south. but it was the sight of the ancient ship that rendered the warring ocean so strange a scene that, had i never before witnessed a storm at sea, i could not have wondered more at what i saw. she was lying to under her reefed fore and mainsail, surging dead to leeward on every scend of the billows, and travelling the faster for the great height of side she showed. from time to time a sea would strike her with a severe shock upon the bow or the waist, and often curl over in a mighty hissing and seething, though the wet quickly poured away overboard through the ports. through the skeleton-iron frame of what had once been a great poop lantern, the blast yelled like an imprisoned maniac, and shook the metal with a sound as of clanking chains. the vessel had her topsail and topgallant-yards aloft, and the sails lay furled upon them. the height of her poop, the depth of her waist, the roundness of her great bulwarked bows, her beak, which i could just catch a glimpse of under her bowsprit, the unequal thickness of the rigging, the indescribable appearance of the sails, the hugeness of the blocks aloft; the whole plunging and rolling amidst the frothing troughs, whilst at the long tiller, the end ornamented with a lion's head, stood a strangely-attired, muffled-up man, grasping a rope wound round the tiller-head, presented such a picture of olden times, made as living as the current moment by the action of the seas, the vitality of the persons i gazed at, the solid substantiality of the aged fabric itself, that the memory of it often chills my brain with fear that i am crazed, and that my experience is but a black and melancholy fancy victorious over my understanding. and i say would to heaven this were so, for better that my soul should be racked by a diseased and disordered mind than that i should have suffered the heart-breaking sorrow, the irreparable loss it is my present business to relate in this narrative. the captain, having inspected me narrowly, asked me how i had slept. i answered "well," for i was now resolved to present a composed front to this man and his mates, be they and their ship what they would. i had given my nerves play and it was about time i recollected i was an englishman and a sailor. "all vessels but mine," said he, in his thrilling, organ-like voice, glancing about him with a scowl, "catch the luck of the wind. had the weather lingered as it was for another three days, we should have had agulhas on the beam and the ship's head north-west. 'tis bitter hard, these encounters of storms, when a few hours of fair wind would blow us round the cape." he clenched his hands fiercely, and shot a fiery glance at the windward horizon. just then the man styled herman van vogelaar, the mate, arrived, and without taking the least notice of me, said something to the captain, but what, i did not catch; it doubtless referred to some job he had been sent forward to see to. i was greatly struck by the rugged, weather-beaten look of this man; his face in the daylight discovered a mere surface of knobs, and warts, and wrinkles, with a nose the shape of one end of a plantain that has been cut in two, and little, misty eyes, deep in their holes, and surrounded by yellow lashes; his dress was that of a sailor of my own time. but what affected and impressed me even more than did the utter indifference manifested towards my presence by him and by the helmsman--as though, indeed, i was as invisible as the wind--was the pallor underlying the lineaments of this mate. had i been asked what would be the complexion of men dug up from their graves after lying there, i should have pointed to the countenances of vanderdecken and van vogelaar--yes, and to prins and the seaman who steered. it was, in truth, as though captain skevington had hit the frightful reality in his dark and dreadful ideas touching the crew of this ship being men who presented the aspect they would have offered at the time of their death, and who, wearing that death-bed appearance, were doomed to complete the sentence passed upon them--no longer "pensioners on the bounty of an hour," as the poet young terms us mortals, but wretches, rendered supernatural by the impiety of that fierce but noble figure, whose falcon-flashing eye looked curses at the gale whilst i watched him. the mate left us and went to the helmsman, by whose side he stood as if conning the ship. the captain showed no heed of my presence for a minute or two; when, glancing at me, he said, "'tis fortunate you speak dutch, though your pronunciation has a strange sound. for my part, i just know enough of your tongue to hail a ship and to say, 'i will send a boat.' where did you learn my language?" "i picked it up during several voyages i made to rotterdam," i replied. "do you know amsterdam?" "no, sir," said i. he mused a little, and then said, "they will think me lost or sunk by the guns of the enemy. add the long and tedious voyage out to the months which have passed since last july!" he sighed deeply. "when did you sail from amsterdam, sir?" i inquired, for i was as particular as he to say "mynheer." "on the first of november," he answered. "in what year?" said i. he cried out, fiercely, "are your senses still overboard that you repeat that question? certainly last year--when else?" i looked down upon the deck. "i have reason to remember my passage through the narrow seas," continued he, speaking in a softened voice, as though his sense of courtesy upbraided him. "i sighted the squadron of your admiral ayscue and a frigate hauled out in chase of me, but the braave was too fleet for her, and at dusk we had sunk the englishman to his lower yards!" as he said this i felt yet again the chill of a dread i had hoped to vanquish strike upon my senses like the air of a vault upon the face. it was impossible that i could now miss seeing how it was. if this man, together with his crew, were not endevilled, as captain skevington had surmised, yet it was certain that life was terminated in him with the curse his wickedness had called down upon his ship and her wretched crew. existence had come to a stand in his brain; with him it was for ever the year of our lord ; time had been drowned in the eternity of the punishment that had come upon him! i lifted my startled eyes to vanderdecken's face and convulsively clasped my hands, whilst i thought of the mighty chapter of history which had been written since his day, and of the ashes of events prodigious in their time, and in memory still, which covered--as do the lava and scoriæ the rocks of some volcanic-created island--the years from the hour of his doom down to the moment of our meeting. the peace of --the later war of --ruyter at sheerness and chatham and in the hope--a stadtholder of vanderdecken's country becoming a king of england--the peace of ryswick--malplaquet--the semi-gallican founding of the batavian republic--with how much more that my memory did not carry? all as non-existent to this man at my side as to any human creature who had died at the hour when the death ship sailed on her last passage home from the island of java! chapter xvi. vanderdecken shows me his present for little margaretha. at this moment prins stepped on to the poop, and informed the captain that breakfast was ready. "sir," said vanderdecken to me, with a courtesy that i guessed to be as capricious as his passion, "you will have feared i meant to starve you." "no, mynheer," i replied. "you will find our fare poor," he continued. "be pleased to follow me." "sir," said i, "forgive me if i detain you for an instant. i am too sensible of your kindness not to desire that you will enable me to merit it by serving you in the navigation of this ship in any capacity you choose to name, until we meet with a vessel that shall rid you of my presence." "you appear to have but a poor opinion of us dutch," said he, still speaking with courtesy; "be pleased to know that a hollander is never happier than in relieving distress. but come, sir, the shelter of the cabin will be grateful to you after this stormy deck." i said no more, and gathering the flapping skirts of the coat on me to my side, that the gale might not sweep me off my legs, i followed him into the cabin under the poop, marvelling, as i went, at the miracle wrought on behalf of this ship, that her hold should still yield provisions and water for her crew after a century-and-a-half of use. now you will have deemed by this time that i had supped full enough of surprises. but conceive of my astonishment on entering the cabin, that was less darksome than i should have conceived it, on seeing a girl of from eighteen to twenty years of age, seated at the table on the right hand of the captain's chair! i came to a stand, struck motionless with astonishment; whilst she, uttering an exclamation of surprise, hastily rose and stood staring at me, leaning with her right hand on the table to steady herself. it was as certain that she had been as ignorant of my presence on board as i, to this instant, of her existence. the thought that instantly flashed upon me was that she was vanderdecken's daughter, that the curse that had fallen on the ship included her, as it had all others of the vessel's miserable company of men, and that in consonance with captain skevington's mad but astonishing theory, touching the people of this death ship, she discovered the appearance she would have presented at the hour of her death, though vitalised in that aspect by the sentence that kept the braave afloat and her people quick and sentient. i was the more willing to suppose this by her apparel, which was of the kind i had seen in old dutch paintings at rotterdam, for it consisted of a black velvet jacket, very beautifully fitting her figure, trimmed with fur and enriched with many small golden buttons; a green silk gown, plain and very full, as though made for a bigger woman. there was a rope of pearls round her neck, and i spied a diamond of great splendour blazing on the forefinger of the hand on which she leaned. she wore small red shoes and her hair was undressed. observation and the power of comprehending what one sees are rapid, otherwise it would have been impossible for me to have mastered the details i have set before you in the short time that intervened between my entering the cabin and seating myself at the table. yet, short as that time was, it enabled me to witness in this girl such sweetness, fairness and loveliness of face as i vow no man could conceive the truth of who had not beheld it with his own eyes. 'tis an old poet who writes of "the still harmony, whose diapason lies within a brow," and of the "sweet silent rhetorick of persuading eyes," and another more delicately choice yet in fancy, of "the daintie touch, the tender flesh, the colour bright, and such as parians see in marble, skin more fair, more glorious head and far more glorious hair; eyes full of grace and quickness, purer roses----" but of this beauty, shining sun-like in that labouring ancient cabin, gazing at me half-wistful, half-amazed, with an inclined posture of her form as though she would on a sudden race to greet me, what could the noblest poet of them all sing, only to tell of the soft violet of her eyes, of her hair of dusky gold, self-luminous as though the gilding light of a ruddy beam of sunset lingered amid the thick abundant tresses heedlessly knotted with a riband a little lower than the line of the ears, thence falling in a bright loose shower down her back, whilst over her forehead, white as though wrought out of the sea foam, the gilded curls were gathered in a shadow only a little darker than amber. all this i saw and more yet, for whilst i stood looking at her the mate of the ship, van vogelaar, arrived, and both he and the captain, and the man prins, turning their faces towards me, the warmth, the life of her skin, the living reality of her surprise, the redness of her lips, the diamond glance of her eyes, were so defined by the paleness, the deathly hue, of the flesh of the men's skin, that the fear that she was of this doomed company fell from me, and i knew that i was face to face with one that was mortal like myself. the captain pointed to the bench on his left hand. i approached the table, giving the girl a low bow before sitting. she curtsied and resumed her seat, but all the while looking at me with an astonishment that greatly heightened her beauty; nor could i fail to see by the slight, but visible changes in the expression of her mouth, that my presence was putting a pleasure in her that grew as perception of my actuality sharpened in her mind. a coarse, but clean cloth, that was a kind of duck or drill, covered the table, and upon it were a couple of dishes of cold meat, a dish of dried fish, another of dried plantains, a jar of marmalade, and a plate of a singular sort of cakes--yellow and heavy--resembling the crumb of newly-baked bread. these things were kept in their places by a rude framework of wood set upon the table and lashed to it underneath. before each person there stood a silver cup--one of one design and size, another of another; also an earthen plate, of a grey colour, of chinese baking, and of the kind exported years since in great quantities from batavia; and a knife and fork of a pattern i had never before seen. on our seating ourselves, prins went round the table with two jars--one holding a spirit, which i afterwards found was a kind of gin, and the other cold water, with which he manufactured a bumper for us three men, but the girl drank the water plain. not a word was said whilst prins was at this work. as he was filling my cup, the clock over the door struck eight, the skeleton appearing and flourishing his lance as before, and scarce was this ended when the parrot croaked out, "wy zyn al verdomd." i had forgotten this bird, and the harsh utterance and dreadful words coming upon me unawares so startled me that i half-sprang to my feet. the girl looked down on the table with a sad face, whilst vanderdecken said, "'tis the clock that excites that fowl; we shall have to hang her out of hearing of it." he never offered to make me known to the fair creature opposite, but that did not signify, for, after stealing several peeps at me, she asked in dutch, but with the artless manner of a child, and in a sweet voice, if i was a hollander. i answered, "no, i am an englishman, madam," feeling the blood warm in my face through the mere speaking with so delicate a beauty. "i, too, am english!" she cried, in our own tongue. "indeed!" i exclaimed, transported out of myself by hearing this, and by perceiving how warm, real and living she was. "but, in the name of heaven, how is it that you are alone upon this strange ship, amid these mysterious men?" for that question i could no more forbear asking right out than i could conceal the admiration in my eyes, whilst i felt no diffidence in talking, as i made no doubt the english language was unintelligible to the others. she swiftly glanced at me, but did not answer. i took this as a hint, and was silent. and yet it did not seem that vanderdecken or van vogelaar heeded us. they appeared as men sunk in deep abstraction, even whilst they ate and drank. some meat was put before me; prins offered me a cake, and, being hard set, i fell to. i found the meat salt, but sweet and tender enough, and turning to the mate asked him what it was. "antelope," he replied, "yonder," pointing to the other dish, "is buffalo." "sir," exclaimed vanderdecken, with a wonderful stateliness in his manner, "be pleased to despise ceremony here. such as our fare is, you are welcome. take as you may require, and prins will fill your cup as often as you need." i bowed and thanked him. "the wind blows hard, imogene," said he, addressing the girl. "it storms directly along the path we would take. it is miserable," he continued, turning to me, "that a change of weather should come upon us just about those parts where the breeze freshened into this gale last night. but we'll force her to windward yet--hey, herman?--though--though----" he looked at the lady he had named imogene and halted abruptly in his speech, but i noticed he could not quickly clear his face of the passionate mad look that darkened it, though it did not qualify the paleness of the skin, but was like the shadow of a heavy storm-cloud passing over the upward-gazing features of a dead man. the countenances of the mate and prins darkened to his savage mood. may heaven pardon me for the thought, but when i considered the bitter vexation of a head wind, and how this vessel was being blown dead away to leeward faster than any line-of-battle ship hove-to, i could not but secretly feel a sailor's sympathy with these unhappy persons, though that this would have been the case had vanderdecken expressed with his tongue the fearful thoughts which he looked with his eyes i do not think possible, if i know myself at all. there fell a silence among us, through which we could hear the dreary howling of the wind, the falls of heavy masses of water upon the decks, and the lamentable complaining of the whole fabric, though as these noises were chiefly in the hold the notes rose somewhat dulled. presently, feeling it indecorous in me to sit silent, i asked the captain what his cargo was. he answered, "we have much wrought and raw silk, and cloves, musk, nutmegs, mace and pepper, wood for dyeing, drugs, calicoes, lacker-ware and such commodities, sir." "and how many of a crew, sir?" van vogelaar turned to look at me. "ask no questions," exclaimed the girl in english. "you will be misunderstood." "our guns are few, but the braave is a swift ship," said the mate, with a very stern and sullen expression on his rugged face. "she has outsailed one english frigate, and by this time our admirals should have left us little to fear from the fleets of your cromwell." "pray," said the lady, addressing vanderdecken, and glancing in like a sunbeam upon this sudden darkness of temper, "tell me of this gentleman--how it happens he is here; i find he is my countryman. converse with me about him." if it were possible for human affection to touch into softness the fierce majestic countenance of the noble looking being, whose mien as he sate at the table might have been that of some dethroned emperor, with the pride of lucifer to sustain him, i might seem to have witnessed the tenderness of it in his ashen, bearded face when he turned the cold glitter of his eyes upon the girl. "we spoke his ship late last night, when thou wast asleep, imogene, and van vogelaar went in our boat to buy tobacco, if they were willing to sell, but on seeing the boat they fired upon her. a light air blew, and the ship moved away. our boat was returning, when she spied this gentleman fast drowning. van vogelaar dragged him out of the water, and--here he is!" saluting me with a grave inclination of the head. "had we changed places," said the stormy-minded, rugged mate, "what would have been my fate?" a colour flashed into imogene's face, and she cried, "oh, herr van vogelaar, your pardon, if you please. english seamen are as humane as they are brave." "yes," said the mate, with a sneer that rendered his ugliness quite horrible with the distortion of it, "because english sailors are brave they fire upon an inoffensive boat, and because they are humane they leave their comrade to perish!" "madam," said i, softly, "the character of this ship was known to us." she slightly raised her eyes, and such a sadness came into them that i feared to see her shed tears. meanwhile, vanderdecken had his gaze fixed upon me. he seemed to be musing upon what the mate had said. "it was your commodore young," said he, in his resonant voice, that, to be sure, sounded grandly after the harsh pipes of the mate, "who provoked us. why should your nation exact the honour of the flag? has it bred greater seamen than holland? there is my friend willem schouten--many a pipe, when i was a young man, have i smoked with him in his summer-house at hoorn. does even your drake surpass schouten? no, no! it was not for england to be mistress of the seas!" he exclaimed, with a solemn shake of the head, not wanting in a grave kind of urbanity. i caught a glance from the girl, but i needed no hint to keep my tongue still. 'twas maddening and terrifying enough to hear this man speak of schouten as a friend--schouten, who greatly headed the grand procession of mariners such as dampier, byron, anson, and many others who, since his day, have sailed round that cape horn--which the stout hollander was the first to pass and to name--into the great south sea. and yet, spite of the effect produced upon me by this man's speech and references, i was sensible of a distinct pricking of my conscience by my patriotism. to hear england sneered at by the natives of a country which has been described by a poet that flourished in the days of blake and tromp as the "off-scouring of the british sand," and as the "undigested vomit of the sea," was by no means to my liking. but to remonstrate would have been but a mere warring with the dead. the captain appeared to delight to talk of the war between the dutch and the english. i remember that he praised our commodore bodley, and said that if the states' ambassador, adrian paaw, had been a person of understanding, the treaty might have stood. this i recollect, but very little more, for, to be plain, it was not only a frightful thing to listen to him, but my thoughts were thrown into the utmost confusion by the loveliness of the lady who confronted me--by the assurance of the sweet eyes, warm colour, and her maidenly youth, which lived in every movement, word, smile, or sad look of hers, that she was no true member of the unholy and fearful company she lived amongst; by my wondering how she came to be in this death ship, and how it happened that she was finely dressed; not to speak of other speculations, such as how the food upon the table was provided, and by what means this ship, which i knew had been struggling against the will of the omnipotent for hard upon one hundred and fifty years, should be supplied with a liberal stock of the conveniences of life. but we had now done eating. the mate rose and quitted the table, but his place was shortly afterwards taken by another man whom i had not before seen, the second mate as i afterwards discovered, named antony arents. this person looked to be about fifty years of age. he wore high boots and a cloak and a soft flapping hat, which he threw down on entering. his left eye had a cast and the bridge of his nose was broken, but his countenance was of the true dutch character, and in some points he was like the boatswain, antony jans, whom i had seen on deck when waking into consciousness, only that he had less flesh to his belly. but in him was the same ghastly hue of skin you saw in the others; 'twas in his hands as in his face; had you come across him in his sleep you would have said he had been dead some days. and, indeed, never did i view a corpse made ready for casting overboard that had the aspect of the dead so strong upon it as these men. he helped himself to food, taking not the least notice of me. prins meanwhile had put a box of tobacco and some long clay pipes upon the table, one of which vanderdecken took and filled, asking me to smoke. i thanked him, wondering what sort of tobacco time had converted this weed into, took the tinder-box from the captain and lighted my pipe. well, if this was an ancient tobacco age had not spoilt its qualities. it smoked very sweet and sound. "we are on short allowance," said the captain. "our stock has run low. it will be a hardship if we should come to want tobacco." i made no reply, being determined to learn all i could about this ship and her people from miss imogene before offering suggestions, for though there is no living man whose nose i would not offer to stroke for calling me a coward, yet i am not ashamed to say this captain vanderdecken terrified me and i feared his wrath. the girl, with her elbows on the table and her fair chin resting on her hands, which made an ivory cup for her face, watched me continuously with eyes whose brightness the large and sparkling diamond on her forefinger did not match by many degrees of glory. "are you long from england?" says she to me presently in dutch, that vanderdecken might know what we talked about. "we sailed in april last," i replied. "and you, madam?" she either did not hear the question or would not answer. "are you married?" asked the captain of me, smoking very slowly to get the true relish of the tobacco, whilst the second mate chewed his food with vacant eyes, squinting straight ahead or meeting in a traverse on his plate. "no, sir," i replied. "are your parents living?" he said. "my mother is alive," i answered. "ah!" said he, speaking as one in a reverie, "a sailor should not marry. what is more uncertain than the sea? the mariner's wife can never make sure of her husband's return. what will mine be thinking if we continue to be blown back as we are now by these westerly gales? it seems longer than months, yea, it appears to me to be years, since i last beheld her and my daughters standing near the schreyerstoren, weeping and waving their farewells to me. my eldest girl, geertruida, will be grown sick at heart with her long yearning for the parcel of silk i have for her. and margaretha----" he sighed, softly. then turning to imogene, he said, "my dear, show this gentleman the toy i am taking home for my little margaretha." she rose with a look of pain in her face, and stepped to the cabin that was next the captain's. i now understood why he had desired me to speak in subdued tones last night, for that was the room in which she slept. the ease with which she moved upon that heaving deck was wonderful, and this verse of a ballad came into my head as i watched her go from the table to her cabin-- "no form he saw of mortal mould, it shone like ocean's snowy foam; her ringlets waved in living gold, her mirror crystal, pearl her comb." ay, the ocean might have owned her for a child, with such dainty, elegant ease did she accommodate her form to the sweep and heave of its billows, as denoted by the motions of the ship; as some lovely gull with breast of snowy down and wings of ermine airily expresses the swing and charge of the surge by its manner of falling in each hollow and lifting above each head on outstretched pinion. her costume too, that was so strange a thing, giving to this interior so romantic an appearance that, had the ship been still and you had looked in at the cabin door, then, with this lady's beauty and dress, the majestic figure of vanderdecken smoking in his high-backed chair, the second mate at his food, prins standing like one that dreams, all the faces but the girl's and mine ghastly, the strange beauty of the lamp that swung over the table, the oval frames holding paintings so bleared and dusky that it was difficult to make out the subjects, the dim and wasted colour of the cabin walls, and the bald tawdriness of what had been rich giltwork, the clock of ancient pattern, the parrot cage--i say, had you been brought on a sudden to view this interior from the door, you might have easily deemed it some large astonishing picture painted to the very height of the greatest master's perfection. in a moment or two miss imogene returned, and coming to the table placed upon it a little figure about five inches tall. it was of some metal and had been gaily coloured as i supposed from what was left of the old tints. its style was a red cloak falling down its back, a small cap with a feather, shoes almost hidden with great rosettes, hose as high as the thigh, and then a sort of blouse with a girdle. both arms hung before in a very easy and natural posture and the hands grasped a flute. vanderdecken, putting down his pipe, took a key from under the cloak of the figure and wound the automaton up as a clock, when it instantly lifted the flute to its mouth, in the exact manner of life, and played a tune. the sound was very pure though piercing, the melody simple and flowing. in all, the figure played six tunes without any sound of the clock-work within, and it was undoubtedly a very curious and costly toy. the second mate stalked out in the middle of this performance, having finished his meal, and showing no more sensibility to what was doing than did the table the figure played on. the eyes of the man prins had a sickly, faraway look, to be imagined only, for no one could describe it. vanderdecken lighted his pipe when the automaton struck up, and nodded gravely to the fluting with as much pleasure in his face as so fierce and haughty a countenance could express. the girl stood leaning upon the table, with a listlessness in her manner and constantly regarding me. scarce had the sixth tune been played, when the parrot called out from his cage, "wy zyn al verdomd!" clearly showing that she knew when the entertainment was over. her pronouncing these words in dutch robbed them somewhat, to my ear, of their tremendous import, but still it was a terrible sentence for the creature to have lighted on, and i wondered what her age was, for she could not have been newly-hatched when vanderdecken bought her, as--he had told me--she then spoke the same words. however, the captain was full of his flute-player, and neither he nor imogene noticed the parrot. "this should delight my little margaretha," said he, lifting the figure and examining it; "'tis as cunning a toy as ever i saw. i bought it at batavia, from an old friend of mine, meeuves meindertszoom bakker, who had purchased it of a sailor belonging to the company's ship, revolutie, for eight ducats. 'twill rejoice my child; you shall present it to her, imogene. i would not sell it for five hundred dollars; 'tis worthy to be john muller's work." he ceased speaking, lifting his hand; then exclaimed, "hark! how the wind continues to storm." he gave the figure to the girl who returned it to her cabin. in a few minutes he put down his pipe and bade prins bring him his skin or fur cap, and then rose, impressing me as keenly as though i viewed him for the first time by the nobility of his stature, his great beard flowing to the waist, the sharp supernatural fires in his eyes as if the light there were living flames. in silence he quitted the cabin, acting like a man influenced by spells, without the governance of the logic of human behaviour. chapter xvii. i talk with miss imogene dudley about the death ship. being in the way now of enjoying a talk with imogene, the ridiculousness of the dress i was in struck me, and i asked prins, who was clearing the table, whether my own clothes were yet dry. he answered they were hung up in the furnace near the cookhouse, by which i suppose he meant the caboose, and that when they were dry he would bring them to my cabin. "in these things," said i, addressing imogene in english, whilst i turned my head about to catch a sight of my tails, "i feel like a fool in a carnival. what ages this garb represents i cannot conceive, but it surely does not represent less than a century of fashion." "and what must you think of my attire?" said she, seating herself in the captain's chair, which her beauty made a throne of in a breath, the light of her hair gilding it. "but all things are wonderful here," she added, with a half-glance at prins, whose movements and manner as he removed the dishes from the table were as deaf and soulless as the behaviour of the figure that had just piped to us. "you know, of course, what ship this is?" i said "yes," in a subdued voice, and sat down on the end of the bench near her, adding, "will the captain take it amiss if we converse?" "no," she answered, "but should he forbid it and then find you speaking to me, his temper would be dreadful. he is a terribly passionate man. yet he is gentle to me, and speaks of his wife and children with exquisite tenderness." "his wife and children! god help him!" "oh!" she cried, trembling, "i cannot express to you the horror and pain i feel when i hear him talk of them as though he should find them as they were--altered by the length of a year only--when he parted from them. he does not know that he is cursed--none of them on board this ship know it of themselves." "is that so?" i exclaimed. "surely their repeated failures to pass the agulhas point must convince them that the will of god is opposed to their attempts and that they are doomed men." she leaned her fair cheek upon her hand with a thoughtful absent expression in her violet eyes, though they remained fixed upon me with a child-like simplicity extraordinarily fascinating. i particularly noticed the beautiful turn of her wrist, the fairy delicacy of her nostrils and mouth, and the enchanting curve of her chin to her throat. her figure was full, and in the swell of her breasts and the breadth of her shoulders, fining down into a waist in admirable harmony with her stature and make, you might seem to have witnessed every assurance of robustness. but you found a suggestion rather than a character of fragility in the beauty of her face that caused the very delight you took in the gold and lilies and violets of her loveliness to grow pensive. there was a complete absence of embarrassment in her manner towards me. "if you please, what name am i to know you by?" she asked. "geoffrey fenton," i answered, "and you?" "imogene dudley." i bowed to her, and she continued, "are you a sailor?" i raised my hands half-mockingly, and said, "do i not look my calling?" but recollecting my apparel, i burst into a laugh and exclaimed, touching the faded finery upon the cuff of my coat, "you will have thought me a beadle or a footman." she shook her head smiling, but instantly grew grave, and now spoke in a most earnest voice. "i will tell you all i know about this ship and about myself. my father was captain dudley, of portsmouth, and nearly five years ago, as closely as i can reckon time where time has ceased to all the others, he commanded a ship named the flying fish, and took me and my mother with him on a voyage to china. we called at table bay, but when we were off the coast where algoa bay is situated, the ship was set on fire by one of the crew entering the hold with a lighted candle and attempting to steal some rum. the flames quickly raged, the ship was not to be saved, the boats were lowered and my mother and i and a seaman entered one of them, but suddenly the ship blew up, destroying the boats that were against its side, and when the smoke cleared off nothing was to be seen on the water but a few pieces of blackened timber. our boat had been saved by my father ordering the man to keep her at a good distance lest a panic arose and she should be entered by too great a number. the shock so affected my mother that she lost her mind." here imogene hid her face. when she looked at me again her face was wet, nevertheless she continued: "she died on the night following the loss of the ship, and i was left alone with the sailor. we were many leagues from the land, we had no sail, the oars were heavy. i was too weak and ill to help him with them, and the fierce heat soon melted the strength out of him, so that he left off rowing. he was good to me, gentle and very sorrowful about me. i cried so much over losing my father and mother, and at our dreadful situation, that i thought my heart would break, and i prayed that it might, for indeed i wanted to die." she drew a deep hysteric breath, tremulous as a long bitter sob. "we drifted here and there for five days, after which thirst and hunger bereft me of my senses, and i remember no more till i awoke in this ship. i then learnt that they had passed our boat close, and had stopped the vessel to inspect her. the seaman was dead, and they supposed me dead too, but captain vanderdecken, fancying a likeness in me to his daughter alida, called to his men to bring me on board. they did so and found life in me." "and you have been in this vessel ever since!" cried i. "ever since!" she responded. "that is to say," i exclaimed, scarcely realising the truth, "for hard upon five years!" she hid her eyes and shook her sweet face in the cover of her hands, as if she could not bear to think of it. i waited a little, partly that she might have time to recover her tranquillity, and partly that prins might make an end of his business and go, though, let me declare, he gave us no more heed than had he been the clock; much less, indeed, than did the parrot that, having rounded her head, after the manner of those birds, till her beak was uppermost, watched us with the broadside of her face, and therefore with one eye, with horrid pertinacity and gravity. "but can it be, miss dudley," said i, "that captain vanderdecken never intends to part with you?" she looked up quickly, and said, "my position is incredibly strange. he has a father's fondness for me, and declares that, as i have no relations, i shall be one of his children, and live with his wife and daughters at amsterdam. but he has no sense of time. neither he nor the miserable crew can compute. to him and the others this is the year , and he supposes that he sailed from batavia in july of last year, that is, as he conceives, in . at first i tried to make him understand what century this was, but he patted my cheek, and said my senses had not returned, and, when i persisted, he grew angry, and his temper so terrified me that i feigned to agree with him, and have ever since done so." i reflected, and said, "it must be as you say, and as i have already noted; for, did the almighty grant him and his crew any perception of the passage of time, is it conceivable that he would talk of his wife and children as still living, and be eager to return to them? when did you discover that this was the phantom ship?" "i had heard that there was such a vessel from my father, and when captain vanderdecken talked to me and i marked the colour of his face and the appearance of the crew, and the glow that shone upon the vessel in the dark, with other strange things, such as her ancient appearance, i soon satisfied myself." "father of mercy!" i cried, "what a situation for a young girl!" "when i felt sure of the ship," she said, "i should have drowned myself in my misery and terror, only i dreaded god's wrath. i felt that if i humbly resigned myself to his holy will he would suffer the spirits of my father and mother to be with me and watch over me. but, oh! what a tedious waiting has it been, what bitter weariness of sea and sky! again and again have i entreated captain vanderdecken to put me on board some passing ship, but not conceiving of the years which run by, and every tempest that obstructs him melting as a memory into the last, so that the rebuffs of a century past are to him as forgotten things, or possessing the same sort of recentness that in a day or two this gale, which is now blowing, will have, he thinks to encourage me by saying that next time he is certain to round the headland, that, as he has adopted, so he must not part with me, but carry me in his own ship and under his own protection to his wife and home." i understood her and admired the cleverness with which she rendered intelligible to me the state of mind of the captain and crew of this ship, that is to say so far as concerned their incapacity to compute the passage of the days. for is it not evident that if these men knew that they were doomed never to round the cape, they would cease striving to do so? and would they not long ago have understood the character of the judgment that had been passed upon them had they been permitted to comprehend that year after year rolled on, ay, even into centuries, and still found them beaten back regularly from the same part of the ocean to the passing of which their struggles had been directed? how far memory in them was suffered to go back so as to count the number of times they were driven afresh to the eastwards, i could not imagine; but no doubt imogene, who knew vanderdecken well, was right when she said that the recollection of the last rebuff melted into every present one, so that, in short, in this respect they were as men without memory. and this must have been so, for they worked with hope; whereas hope would have long since died in them could they have recollected. "what are your thoughts," i asked her, "as regards their mortality? are they human?" "yes, mr. fenton, they must be human, for they think of their homes and wives and children," she replied. i was struck with this, though i said, "might not their very yearning be a part of the curse? for if you extinguish their desire of getting home, the impulse that keeps them striving with the elements would disappear, and they would say, 'since we cannot get westwards and so to europe, we'll head for the east and make for the indies?'" "it is a thing impossible to reason upon," she exclaimed, sadly, and pressing her hand to her brow. "the great god here, in this ship, has worked in miracles and mysteries for purposes of his own. who can explain his ways? sometimes i have thought by the dreadful hue of the skin of their faces that they are men dead in body, but forced into the behaviour of living beings by the strength of the curse that works in them." i replied that in saying this she had exactly hit upon the fancy of my late captain, who had taken his own life on the previous evening, which fancy now struck me as an amazing inspiration, seeing that it was her own opinion and that my own judgment fully concurred in it. "'tis impossible," said she, "that they can be as we are. they are supernaturally alive. oh! it is shocking to think of. is it not wonderful that my long association with these people has not driven me mad? yet the captain loves me as a father; such is his tenderness at times when he talks of his home and strives to keep up my heart by warranting that next time--it is always next time--we shall pass the cape and all will be well with us, that i am lost in wonder he could have ever so acted as to bring the curse of an eternal life of hopeless struggle upon him and his men." "ay," cried i, "and why should his men be accursed?" "i have often asked myself that whilst watching them," she replied. "but then i have answered, why should innocent little children bear in their forms, and in their minds too, the diseases and infirmities caused by the wickedness and recklessness of persons, perhaps several generations removed from them? we dare not question--'tis impious, mr. fenton. in this ship especially must we be as mute spectators only, for we are two living persons standing amid shadows, and viewing so marvellous a mystery that i tremble to the depth of my soul at the thoughts of my nearness to the majesty of an offended god!" by this time prins had quitted the cabin, and the girl and i were alone. there was a great weight of sea running, and the rolling of the ship was very violent. this end of the vessel was so tall that it rose buoyant from the head of every billow that leapt at her afterpart; but the thunder of the seas smiting her in the waist would roar like a tempest through the ship; you could hear the waters washing about the deck there; then the groaning and complaining below was continuous, and the sounds which penetrated the cabin from the gale in the rigging made you think of the affrighted bellowing of bulls chased by wolves in full cry. "there seems to be a fierce storm blowing," said imogene, who had watched my face whilst i listened; "but since i have been in this ship there have been far wilder tempests than this." "no doubt, in all the weary years you have spent here. what has been your experience of the winds which regularly oppose the ship? do they happen naturally, as in the case of this one, which was plentifully betokened by the look of the moon and other signs, or do they rise on a sudden--in such wise, i mean, as would make one see they were for this vessel only, and are a temporary change in the laws of nature hereabouts that the curse may be continued?" "i cannot answer; all that i can speak to is this: as punctually as we arrive at a given place the wind heads us, as used to be my poor father's term and as all seamen say. and sometimes it blows softly and sometimes it rises into fury. but let it come as it will the vessel is blown or driven back a great many leagues, but how far i cannot say, for vanderdecken himself does not know." i would not trouble her with further questions touching what i will call the nautical routine of the ship and the manoeuvering of the unhappy creatures the vessel carried, because already i suspected that i should have rather more leisure than i should relish to look into these matters myself. but as she manifestly took a pleasure in conversing with me, and as i wished to obtain all the information possible about this death ship, and as, should vanderdecken forbid my associating with or addressing her, there might be no one else on board of whom i could venture to make inquiries, i determined at once to push my researches as far as courtesy permitted. "i trust, miss dudley," said i, finding a singular delight in the pure virginal resting of her violet eyes, sparkling like the jewels of a crown, on mine as i talked to her, "that my questions do not tease you----" "oh, no!" she interrupted. "if you but knew how glad i am, how it gives me fresh heart to hear you speak, to see your living face after my long desolating communion with the people of this ship!" "indeed i can conceive it!" said i. "may god grant that what i viewed last night as a most dreadful misfortune, full of terror, ay, even to madness, may prove the greatest stroke of good luck that could have befallen me. but of what is to be done we must talk later on. i shall require to look about me. tell me now, madam, if you will, how is this ship provisioned? surely these men are not miraculously fed; and 'tis certain that the meat i tasted this morning has been cured since !" she smiled and said, "when they run short of food or water they sail for some part of the coast where there is a river. there they go on shore in boats, armed with muskets, and come off with all that they can kill." "ha!" cried i, fetching a deep breath, "there is some plain sailing in this unholy business after all. but how do they manage for ammunition? surely they must long ago have expended their original stock?" "i can but guess. about a twelvemonth ago we met with an abandoned ship, out of which vanderdecken conveyed a great quantity of tobacco, powder, money and articles of food, a few cases of marmalade and some barrels of flour. whether these shipwrecked vessels are left lying upon the sea for him to take provisions from by the power that has sentenced him to his fearful fate i cannot say, but since i have been in this vessel we have fallen in with three deserted ships, both floating and ashore on the coast, and this may have been their method throughout of providing themselves with what they needed, backed by such further food as i have never known them to miss of with their muskets and fowling-pieces." "so!" cried i, greatly marvelling. "now i understand how it happens that the captain can lend me such latter-day clothes as these from his seventeenth-century wardrobe, and that you--forgive me, madam--are attired as i see you." she answered, "in their hold they have a great quantity of silks and materials for making gowns for women. this jacket," said she, meaning that which she was wearing, "is one article out of several chests of clothes captain vanderdecken was carrying home for his wife and daughters and friends. do you notice the style, mr. fenton?" she added, turning about her full and graceful figure that i might see the jacket, "it is certainly of the last century. in the captain's cabin is the portrait of one of his daughters dressed in much the same way." "you, at all events," said i, "are not likely to run short of clothes." "oh!" she answered, with a toss of her head, half of weariness, half of scorn as it seemed to me, "there is a chest in my cabin full of clothes fit for the grandest duchess in england. i use such as come most readily to my hands. what need have i," she exclaimed, pushing her hair from her forehead, "to care whether the colours i take match, or whether the gown is too full. this jacket fits me as do all the clothes that were intended for geertruida vanderdecken." then, noticing my eyes resting on the pearls, she said, taking the beautiful and costly rope in her hands, "there is a great stock of finery of this kind in the ship. about a fortnight or three weeks after i had been rescued, the captain ordered prins to bring a large case into the cabin; it was put upon the table and the captain opened it. 'twas like a jeweller's shop in miniature, containing several divisions, one full of pearl ornaments, another of rings, of which he bid me choose one to wear, and i took this," holding up her forefinger whereon the jewel blazed, "a third of earrings and many other trinkets; some, as i should fancy, more ancient than this ship, others of a later time. how he got much of this treasure i know." "how?" asked i, deeply interested. "well," said she, letting fall the pearls around her neck to toy with the ring, "a fair proportion he had purchased for a merchant of amsterdam; chiefly eastern jewellery that had made its way from indian cities to java; other parcels he was taking home on his own account; but much of it, too, along with a store of further treasure--some of which i have seen, and which consists of virgin silver, bars of gold, coated with pewter to deceive the pirates and buccaneers, candlesticks and crucifixes of precious metal--he found in the wreck of a great spanish ship which lay abandoned and going to pieces on a shoal off the coast of natal. this happened during his progress from batavia to the cape, before he was cursed, and therefore it falls within his memory. what other treasure there is, his men have no doubt brought away from the wrecked vessels they have examined for food, powder and the like, during the years they have been sailing about this ocean." "so," cried i, lost in amazement by what i heard, "it is in this fashion that the phantom ship supplies her wants. as ships grow more numerous, her opportunities will increase, for 'tis terrible to think of the number of vessels which go a-missing; and, besides, this is the road to india, along which pass the most richly freighted of europe's merchant fleets. now i understand how vanderdecken manages to keep his crew supplied with clothes, and his ship with sails and cordage. but, lord!" cried i, "if there be nothing magical in this, yet surely the evil spirit must be suffered to have a hand in the keeping of the bones of this old fabric together!" as i said this, prins entered the cabin, and said, shortly, "your clothes are dry, mynheer; they are below." on which imogene rose, and giving me a bow, went to her own cabin. chapter xviii. the death ship must be slow at plying. i stood a moment or two at the door watching the clock whilst it struck, and greatly admiring the workmanship of the skeleton that rose and speared with his lance, keeping time to the sonorous chiming, which sang with a solemn interval between each beat. the great age of this time-keeper was beyond question, but the horn that protected the face of it prevented me from perceiving if there was any maker's name or date there. as the skeleton sank, i could not but admire the aptness of the mechanism to the condition of the ship and her crew, for what could surpass the irony of this representation of death perpetually foiled in his efforts to slay time, which was yet the case of vanderdecken and his men, whose mortality was constrained to an endless triumph over that force which drives all men born of woman through nature into eternity. the parrot hanging near, i stayed yet to look at her and then spoke to the creature in my rugged dutch, but to no purpose; with the slow motion of her kind she contorted herself until, with her beak uppermost, she brought her larboard eye to bear full upon me; and so fixed and unwinking was her stare that i greatly disliked it, nay, felt that if i lingered i should fear it, and was going when she brought me to a stand by a hollow "ha! ha! ha!" just such a note as fancy would give to the ghost of a dutchman, who had been large, fat and guttural when alive, could the spectre of such a one laugh in his coffin or in a vault. the age which this bird had attained made her mere appearance chilling to the blood, though i am aware these creatures are long-lived and that no man with certainty could say they might not flourish two hundred years and more. she was not bald. all her feathers were sound and smooth. yet, as i made my way to my cabin, it terrified me into downright despondency to conceive of this parrot sharing in the curse that vanderdecken had provoked. for if this soulless fowl could be involved in the general fate merely because it happened to be in the ship, why might not my lot prove the same? oh, my heart! to think of becoming one of the crew, partaking their horrid destiny, and in due course dying to live again accurst and miraculously, my soul--as theirs--existing in my body like one of those feeble lamps with which the ancients illumined their tombs! but i was young and was not without an englishman's courage. i could gaze backwards and perceive in my life no sin such as should fill me with remorse and hopelessness in a time like this. i believed in my creator's goodness, and reaching my darksome cabin, i knelt down and prayed, and after awhile recollected myself and felt the warmth of my former spirit. i was mighty pleased to recover my own clothes; they gave me back the sense of my being my true self again, whereas the masquerading attire vanderdecken had lent me occasioned a wretched feeling as of belonging to the ship. when i had shifted myself, i neatly folded the captain's coat, breeches and the rest, and then sat down on my bed to think over my conversation with miss dudley. what to credit, what to make of her, i hardly knew. she was so beautiful where all was ugly, so fresh where all was decayed, so young where all was withered, so radiant where all was darksome that, on board such a ship as this, that had been consigned to the most dreadful doom the imagination of man could conceive of, how was i to know that she was not some part of the scheme of retribution--a sweet and dazzling tantaliser, a mocker of the home affections of the miserable ship's company, a lovely embodiment of the spirit of life to serve some purpose of an inscrutable nature in its influence upon such spiritual vitality as was permitted to the corpse-like beings who navigated this death ship. but this was a fleeting fancy only, and was rendered utterly ridiculous by recurrence to her transporting figure, the golden warmth of her hair and complexion, and above all to the fragility of her lineaments, which stamped her mortal. no! her story was the truth itself; but this i understood, if vanderdecken were never to comprehend his doom, there was stern assurance of his holding the girl to his ship until she died; because, as she had pointed out, he had adopted her and desired to take her home, and would never understand he was powerless to do so, even should time represent the truth to him in her face, should she ever grow old enough for wrinkles and grey hairs. had i been sent to deliver her? god knoweth, i thought. yet, what was my own case? would they refuse to let me leave them? well, that idea did not frighten me, for he is a poor sailor who cannot find a means of escape from a ship he dislikes, even though she should be commanded by old nick himself. but suppose they compelled me to go, set me ashore in their boat, or hailed some unsuspecting vessel that would receive me. i should then be powerless to rescue imogene from this frightful situation, for as to subsequently helping to succour her, first of all i doubted whether i should find a sailor in any part of the world willing to ship for a cruise in search of vanderdecken's craft, and next, even if i should be able to range a line-of-battle ship alongside this venerable frame, how should human artillery advantage us in such a conflict? 'twould be but another defiance of the divine intention, and what mariner was to be found who would embark on any adventure against this dread spectre of the deep when, by so doing, he would feel that he was fighting a vengeance which would swiftly deal with him for so great an act of impiety? however, no good could come of meditations of this kind in that gloomy cabin filled with the echoes of the groaning in the hold and the washing and shocks of the seas without. i felt a seaman's curiosity to have a good look at a ship of which there were a thousand stories afloat in every forecastle throughout the world, and so i climbed through the hatch on deck, dressed in the style in which i had made my first appearance. the second mate, antony arents, conned the vessel, standing near the helm with his arms folded in a sullen, moody posture, even so as to resemble a man turned into stone. vanderdecken was at the weather-rail, erect and noble-looking, his legs parted in the attitude of a stride that he might balance himself to the rolling deck. he stared fixedly to the windward, his great beard, disparted, blowing like smoke over either shoulder, and his brows lowered into a contemptuous scowl upon his sharp, burning eyes. the ship was under the same canvas i had before noticed on her. her yards were as closely pointed to the wind as the lee braces could bring them, but whereas in our time a square-rigged vessel close-hauled can be brought to within six points, that is to say, if the gale be north she can be made to head east-north-east, yet this ship, as i easily gathered without looking at the compass, lay no closer than eight-and-a-half or nine points, the wind blowing west-north-west and we lying by as close as the trim of the yards would suffer us, at about south-by-west. in short, we were being driven at the rate of some three or four miles an hour dead to leeward, broadside on. now, as i am writing this in the main that all mariners may have a just and clear conception of the sort of ship vanderdecken's vessel is, i particularly desire that this matter of her not being able to sail within eight or nine points of the wind be carefully noted; for, then you shall understand how fully with her own tackling, and yards and canvas, she helps out and fulfils her doom. if ever you have read the account of my lord anson's voyage round the world, you will recollect, in the second chapter of book ii., the narrative, given at length, of the time occupied by the gloucester in fetching and casting anchor off juan fernandez. she could make no way at all in beating or reaching. she was first sighted from the island on the st of june; she was still striving against the head wind on the th of july; then she was blown away, and reappeared on the th, and it was not until the rd of that month that she was seen opening the north-west point of the bay with a flowing sail, which means that she had a fair wind, and which may also be said to signify that had the wind not favoured her she might have gone on struggling for years without making the island. think, now, of a vessel very nearly fitted as our ships are rigged, occupying thirty-two days--a whole month and a day atop--in covering a distance which, when the gloucester was first sighted, was reckoned at four leagues! is it, then, surprising that a vessel constructed considerably more than a century earlier than the ships of anson's squadron, in an age when the art of building was little understood, when a ship's hull was as tall as a great castle, when all things aloft were ponderous, when the immense beam, helped yet by the wide channels, gave such a spread to the shrouds that they could make of the breeze no more than a beam wind when braced up as sharp as the yards would come--is it surprising, i say, that this dutchman, so constructed, should never be able to contend with a contrary wind? i am the more pleased to point this out because i have heard it particularly affirmed that if vanderdecken were a good seaman he would laugh at a north-wester though there should be no other wind in those seas; for he need do nothing but make a long board to the south, to as far, say, as fifty degrees, in order, with his starboard tacks aboard, to pass the cape and enter the atlantic, where he would probably catch the south-east trade wind and so make good his return. but this presupposes no sentence, even if the ship were capable of sailing close-hauled. to resume. neither the captain, nor the second mate, nor the seaman at the tiller, taking the least notice of me, i determined to keep myself to myself till it should please vanderdecken to address me; so i got under the lee of the house where i had conversed with the captain before breakfast, and gazed about. it was as dirty a day as ever i remember--the heavens of the colour of drenched granite, the sea-line swallowed up in spray and haze, out of which there came rolling to the ship endless processions of olive-coloured, prodigious combers. the storming aloft was a perpetual thunder. upon every rope the gale split with a shriek, and there was a dreary clattering of the cordage, and as the vessel swang her spars to windward, an edge of peculiar and hurricane-like fierceness would be put into the wind, as though it were driven outrageously mad by the stubborn swing of the masts against its howling face. nothing was in sight save over against our weather-quarter a cape hen, poised on such easy wings that the appearance of the bird made a wonder of the weight of the blast; its solitariness gave a heavy desolation to the aspect of the pouring, warring scene of frothing summits and roaring hollows. the reefed courses under which the vessel lay were dark with wet from the showering of the sea, of which great, green, glittering masses striking the weather-bow, raised such a smoke of crystals all about the forecastle that the vessel looked to be on fire with the steam-like, voluminous whiteness soaring there. there were a few men on the decks that way, muffled up to their noses; but i did not see them speak to one another nor go about any kind of work. they had the same self-engrossed, nay, entranced air that was visible in those, such as the two mates and vanderdecken, whom i had already observed. the ship offered an amazing picture as she soared and sank upon the billows, half-hidden by storms of froth swept by the wind betwixt the masts with wilder screamings than a hundred mad-houses could make. the great barricaded tops, her spritsail topmast standing up out of another top at the end of the bowsprit--she had no jibboom--and the long yard, after the lateen-style, on her mizzen-mast, gave her so true a look of the age in which she had been built that it would be impossible for any sailor to see her and not know what ship she was. none other resembling her has been afloat since the age of william iii., nor is it conceivable that the like of her will ever be seen again. chapter xix. i witness the captain's entrancement. i had been on deck about a quarter of an hour when vanderdecken, who all this time was standing motionless at the rail looking--as who shall tell with what fancies in him and what visions--at the windward sea, came down to the lee of the house as though he all along knew i was there, though i can swear he never once turned nor appeared to see me, and said-- "is the lady in the cabin?" "she went to her room, sir," i replied. "did she tell you her story?" he said, bringing his beard to its place with both hands, and viewing me with a severity that i began to think might be as much owing to the cast of his features as to his nature. i replied that she had told me how he had met with her in an open boat, how her parents had perished, and how he had felt a father's pity and love for her and was taking her home. "to adopt her," he exclaimed. "she shall be a child of mine. my wife will soon love her, and she will be a sister to my daughters. she has no relatives, and such beauty and sweetness of heart as hers must be cared for, since how does the world commonly serve such graces when they meet in a friendless woman?" surely, thought i, he that can talk thus cannot be endevilled! and yet does not the great milton bestow the tenderness of a sister and a daughter on sin when she reconciles satan and death? something of human nature there must ever be even in those who most strictly merit heaven's chastisement; and the lustre of the glory in our beginning, though it wane till its glow is no brighter than the dim, fiery crawlings upon this ship's side at night, is never utterly extinguished in the blackest spirit of us all. i had no desire to talk of miss dudley lest i should put him into a passion by some remark touching the number of years she had now been on board, or by blundering in some other like manner. if she was to escape through me it behoved me to keep my thoughts mighty close and secret, for let what would be the state of being he had entered into in two centuries of existence, his eyes were like a burning-glass, as though he could focus by them the fires of suspicion and scorch a hole through your body to your soul to learn what was passing there. so putting on an easy manner and throwing a glance aloft and around, i said, "i fear, mynheer, you find weather of this kind strain your ship a good deal." "like all vessels she will work in such seas as this," he replied. "how often is she careened?" i asked. "how often should she need it, think you?" he replied, with sudden temper. i said, warily, "i cannot imagine." "i have commanded the braave for five voyages," said he, softening a little, "and only once--that is during the second voyage--did she prove leaky. but this voyage she has been troublesome, and i have had to careen her twice." twice only, thought i; but you could see that his memory had been shaped so as to fit his doom, and that remembrance of all that befell him and his crew from the time when his sentence was first pronounced faded almost as swiftly as they happened, like clouds upon the blankness of the heavens, so that the very changes that would illustrate the passage of time to you or me, such as the alteration in the rigs and shapes of the ships he met, or the growth into womanhood of the girl he had rescued, would be as unmeaning to him and his fellows as to men without memory. yet was it manifestly part of the curse that he should have a keen and bright recollection of his house, his family, amsterdam, the politics and wars of his age and the like. for if the faculty was wholly dead in him, he would be but as a corpse without that craving for home which perpetuates his doom. "is there any good spot for careening on the coast, east of the cape?" said i, eager to gather all i could touching the practices and inner life of this wondrous ship without appearing inquisitive. he answered, "yes, there is one good place, 'tis in a bay; i cannot name it, but it is to be found by the peculiar shape of the mountains at its back. if ever you should be in these seas and need to careen, choose that place, for besides that you may refresh your crew with, and lay in a good store of--when in season--oranges, plums, wild apricot, lemons, plantains, and other fruits, with abundance of such fish as cod, hake, and mullet, and comforts and dainties such as plovers, partridges, guinea-fowl, and bustards; you will there find a salt spring, the water of which, on boiling, yields salt enough for any quantity of curing, and what should not be less useful to you as a mariner to know is, that about the shore you find scattered a kind of munjack which, when boiled with sand and tempered with oil, is as good as pitch for paying your seams with." so, thought i, and thither, then, is it that you are led when your ship needs to be overhauled or when your provisions run low. with oakum worked from such ropes as he would find on abandoned ships, and the munjack he spoke about, he would have no trouble in keeping the frame of the vessel tight, more especially as the supernatural quality that was in his own life was in that of his ship likewise, so that the timber stood as did his skin, albeit the one would often need repairs just as the body of the other was sustained by meat and drink. "i thank you for your information, captain," said i. "if," he continued, "you let the plantain dry it will crush into an excellent flour. the cakes we had at breakfast were formed of plantain-flour." "it is wonderful," said i, "how the mariner forces the sea and the land that skirts it to supply his needs." "ay," he exclaimed. "it is as you say. but no sailors surpass the dutch in this particular direction." it seemed as if he would go on speaking, but, looking, that i might attend to his words, i observed that the whole man, with amazing suddenness, appeared to undergo a change. he stood motionless, gazing at the leeward sea, his features fixed, not the faintest working in them, and nothing stirring but his beard. he was like one in a fit, save for the frightful vitality he got from the glare in his eyes, which were rooted as though they beheld a phantom. i drew away from him with a shudder, for his aspect now was the most terrible revelation of his monstrous and unearthly existence that had been made to me. the change was of the violence of a catalepsy, and this quick transition from the intelligent, if death-like, looks of a man, speaking of homely matters to a mute, petrified figure, to which the fire of the eyes imparted an inexpressible element of horror, so terrified me that i felt the sweat-drops in the palms of my hands. as to reasoning on this condition of his, why, i could make nothing of it. it looked as if the death that was in his flesh and bones, finding his spirit, or whatever it was that informed him, languid, as the senses became through grief or sickness, asserted its powers till it was driven into its hiding-place again by the re-quickening of the supernatural element that possessed him. it was also apparent that this unnatural gift of life did but give vitality to a corpse; and that even as a disinterred body that still wears the very tint of life, as though but just dead, falls into dust on the air of heaven touching it, so do i strictly believe that vanderdecken and his crew would instantly crumble into ashes, which the wind would disperse, were the power that keeps them intelligent and capable of moving suspended. by which i mean that they would not decay slowly, as the dead in nature do, but that they would dissolve into dust as men who deceased a hundred years ago. these thoughts are not gay. but what think you of the reality? never could i so fully compass all the horror of the curse as now, when i turned my gaze from the figure at my side, majestic in his marble motionlessness and alive in the eyes only, to the strained, grey, streaming ancient ship, tossing her forking bowsprit to the sullen gloom on high, bringing her aged, patched and dingy courses, groaning at their tacks, with a sulky thunder against the screaming gale, as though their hollows dimly reverberated yet the cannonading of the vanished fleets of blake and tromp; washed by seas which fled in snow-storms over her forward decks, heavily and dismally rolling broadside to the wind that was blowing her with diabolic stubbornness back along the liquid path that she had so lately sailed over! think of such a life as this, never-ending! great mercy! would not even a year of such a struggle prove to us distracting. oh, 'tis a merciful provision indeed that these poor wretches should have had all sense of time killed in them, and that their punishment should lie in a perpetual cheating of hope too short-lived as a remembrance to break their hearts. yet there were now two persons in this death ship to whom such solace as was permitted to the accurst crew would not be granted, and who, if they could not get away from the vessel, would have to lead a more terrible life than even that of the dutch mariners, unless they destroyed themselves as captain skevington had. and for some time i could think of nothing but how i was to rescue miss dudley and make my own escape, for one thing i had already resolved: never to leave the girl alone in this ship. chapter xx. i hold a conversation with the crew. there was nothing in sight. indeed, in that thick gale a vessel would have had to come within a mile of us to be visible. as vanderdecken neither stirred nor spoke to me, i feared he might take it ill if i hung by his side, for how was i to tell but that he might consider i should regard the withdrawal of his attention as a hint to begone. i therefore walked aft, the second mate no more heeding me than if i had been as viewless as the air, whilst the helmsman, after turning a small pair of glassy eyes upon me, stained with veins, directed them again at the sea over the bow, his face as sullenly thoughtful as the others, albeit he handled the tiller with good judgment, "meeting her," as we sailors say, when she needed it, and holding a very clean and careful luff. my curiosity being great i ventured to peep into the binnacle, or "bittacle" as it was formerly called, a fixed box or case for holding the mariner's compass. the card was very old-fashioned, as may be supposed, yet it swung to the movement of the ship, and i could not suppose that it was very inaccurate since by the aid of it they periodically made the land where they hunted for meat and filled their casks. as neither vanderdecken nor antony arents offered to hinder me from roaming about, i determined, since i was about it, to take a good look at this death ship. i examined the swivels which were very green with decay, and tried to revolve one on its pivot, but found that it was not to be stirred. the tiller had been a very noble piece of timber, but now presented the aspect of rottenness that all the rest of the wood in the ship had, yet it had been very elegantly carved, and numerous flourishes still overran it, though the meaning of the devices was not to be come at. the rudder head worked in a great helm-port, through which a corpulent man of eighteen stone might have slipped fair into the sea underneath. the gale made a melancholy screeching in the skeleton lantern, and i wondered they did not unship the worthless thing and heave it overboard. i looked over the side and as far down as i could carry my sight, and i observed that the ship was of a sickly sallow colour, not yellow--indeed, of no hue that i could give a name to, though the original tint a painter might conjecture by guessing what colour would yield this nameless pallidness after years and years of washing seas and the burning of the sun. i then thought i would step forward, not much minding the washing of the seas there, and passed vanderdecken very cautiously, ready to stop if he should look at me, but he remained in a trance, like a stone figure, all the life of him gone into his eyes, which glared burning and terrible at the same part of the ocean at which he stared when i first observed him stirless; so i stepped past and descended to the quarter-deck, where there was nothing to see, and thence to the upper deck. here, near the mainmast, were two pumps of the pattern i recollected noticing in a ship that had been built in , and that was afloat and hearty and earning good money in . in front of the mast lay two boats, one within the other, the under one on chocks, both of the same pattern, namely, square stern and stem, with lengths of the gunwales projecting like horns. the top one, for i could not see the inside of the lower boat, had been painted originally a bright scarlet; she contained seats and half-a-dozen of oars short and long, all with immensely broad blades, which had also been painted a bright red. the rusty guns, the ends of gear snaking in the froth along the scuppers, the cumbersomeness of the blocks of the maintack, along with the other furniture of that groaning and half-bursting sail, the grey old cask answering for a scuttlebutt lashed to the larboard side, the ancientness of the tarpauling over the great hatch; these, and a score of other details it would tease you to hear me name, gave a most dismal and wretched appearance to all this part of the tossed, drenched, spray-clouded fabric labouring under a sky that had darkened since the morning, and against whose complexion the edges of the sails showed with a raw and sickly pallor, whilst above swung the great barricaded tops and the masts and yards to and fro, to and fro, how drearily and wearily! the bulwarks being very high, enabled me to dodge the seas as i crept forwards, and presently i came abreast of the foremast, where stood jans, the boatswain, along with three or four seamen, taking the shelter of a sort of hutch, built very strong, whence proceeded sounds of the grunting of hogs, and the muttering of geese, hens and the like. as i needed an excuse to be here--for these fellows believed the time to be that of cromwell and blake, and looked upon an englishman as an enemy, and, therefore, might round upon me angrily for offering to overhaul their ship--i said to jans, in my civillest manner-- "are the men who rescued me last night here? i shall be glad to thank them." "yonder's houtmann," said he, bluntly; "the other's below." i turned to the man named houtmann, and saw in him an old sailor of perhaps three-score, with a drooped head, his hands in his pockets, a worn, wrinkled, melancholy face, his complexion, like that of the others, of the grave; he was dressed in boots, loose yellow, tarpaulin trousers, and a frock of the same material; he had a pilot-coat on, a good sou'-west cap--such as i myself wore aboard the saracen--and there was a stout shawl around his neck. i put out my hand, and said, "houtmann, let an english sailor thank a brave hollander of his own calling for his life." he did not smile--showed himself, by not so much as a twitch in his face sensible of my speech, save that in the most lifeless manner in the world he held out his hand, which i took; but i was glad to let it fall. if ever a hand had the chill of death to freeze mortal flesh, his had that coldness. no other man's skin in that ship had i before touched, though my arm had been seized by vanderdecken, and this contact makes one of the most biting memories of that time. will you suppose that the coldness was produced by the wet and the wind? alas! he withdrew his hand from his pocket; but, even had he raised it from a block of ice, you would not, in the bitter bleakness of the flesh, have felt, as i did, the death in his veins, had he been as i was. the others were variously attired, in such clothes as you would conceive a ship's slop-chest would be fitted with from pickings of vessels encountered and ransacked in a hundred and fifty years. they had all of them a dutch cast of countenance, one looking not more than thirty, another forty, and so on. but there was something in them--though god knows if my life were the stake i should not be able to define it--that, backed by the movements, complexions and the like, made you see that with them time had become eternity, and that their exteriors were no more significant of the years they could count than the effigy on the tomb of a man represents the dust of him. "it blows hard," said i to jans, making the most of my stock of dutch, and resolved to confront each amazing experience as it befel me with a bold face. "but the braave is a stout ship and makes excellent weather." "so think the rats," exclaimed houtmann, addressing jans. "a plague on the rats!" cried jans. "there's but one remedy: when we get to table bay the hold must be smoked with sulphur." "i never knew rats multiply as they do in this ship," said one of the sailors, named kryns; "had we been ten years making the passage from batavia, the vermin could not have increased more rapidly." "where do the crew sleep?" said i. jans pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to a hatch abreast of the after-end of the forecastle bulwark. the cover was over it, for there the spray was constantly shooting up like steam from boiling water, and filling the iron-hard hollow of the foresail with wet which showered from under the arched foot-rope in whole thunderstorms of rain. otherwise i should have asked leave to go below and explore the forecastle, for no part of this ship could, i thought, be more curious than the place in which her crew lived, and i particularly desired to see how they slept, nay, to see them sleeping and to observe the character of their beds, whether hammocks or bunks, and their chests or bags for their clothes. i said, "it will be dark enough down there with the hatch closed?" "ay," said the youngest-looking of the seamen, named abraham bothma--i took down their names afterwards from imogene's dictation, conceiving that the mentioning of them would prove of interest to any descendants of theirs in holland into whose hands this narrative might chance to fall--"but we keep a lamp always burning." "but should you run short of oil!" said i, timorously, for i had made up my mind to pretend to one and all that i believed they had sailed from batavia in the preceding year, and the question was a departure from that resolution. "oil is easily got," exclaimed jans, roughly. "what use do you english make of the porpoise and the grampus? is not the seabird full of it? and fish you in any bay along the coast 'twixt natal and cape town, and i'll warrant you livers enough to keep your lamps burning for a voyage round the world. and what ship with coppers aboard can be wanting in slush?" "heer jans," said i, "i am a sailor and love to hear the opinions of persons of my own calling. therefore i would ask you, do not you consider your ship greatly hampered forward by yonder sprit-topmast and the heavy yards there?" and to render myself perfectly intelligible, i pointed to the mast that i have already described as being fixed upright at the end of the bowsprit, rising, so to speak, out of a round top there, and having a smaller top on the upper end of it. "how would you have her rigged?" asked he, in a sneering manner. "why," said i, cautiously, "as most of the ships you meet are rigged--with a jibboom upon which you can set more useful canvas than spritsails." on this, bothma said, "let your country rig its ships as it chooses, they will find the dutch know more about the sea and the art of navigating and commanding it than your nation has stomach for." i could have smiled at this, but the voice of the man, the deadness of his face, the terrifying life in his eyes, the sombre gravity of the others, standing about me like people in their sleep, were such a corrective of humour as might have made a braver man than i am tremble. i dared not go on talking with them, indeed, their looks caused me to fear for my senses, so without further ado i walked aft and entered the cabin hoping to find warmth and recovery for my mind in the beauty and conversation of imogene. the cabin was deserted. the darkness of the sky made it very gloomy, and what with its meagre furniture, the unhealthy colouring of its walls, trappings of gilt and handwork, once i daresay very brilliant and delightful, but now as rueful as a harlequin's faded dress seen by the sun, it was a most depressing interior, particularly in such weather as was then storming, when the ceaseless thunder of bursting surges drove shock after shock of tempestuous sound through the resonant fabric, and when the shrieking of the wind, not only in the rigging but along the floor of the stormy sky itself, was like the frantic tally-hoing of demons to the million hounds of the blast. not knowing how to pass the time, i went to the old, framed pictures upon the sides, and found them to be panels fitted to the ship's plank, and framed so as to form as much a part of the structure as the carving on her stern would be. but time, neglect, dirt or damp--one or all--had so befouled or darkened the surfaces that most of them were more like the heads of tar barrels than paintings. yet here and there i managed to witness a glimmering survival of the artist's work; one representing the fish market at amsterdam, such of the figures as were plain exhibiting plenty of humour; another a dutch east indiaman, of vanderdecken's period, sailing along with canvas full, streamers blowing, and the batavian colours standing out large from the ensign staff; a third was a portrait, but nothing was left of it save a nose whose ruddy tip time had evidently fallen in love with, for there it still glowed, a mouth widely distended with laughter, and one merry little eye, the other having sunk like a star in the dark cloud that overspread most of this panel. this, i supposed, had been the portrait of a sailor, for so much of the remainder as was determinable all related to amsterdam and things nautical. having made this dismal round, i sat me down at the table, sternly and closely watched by the parrot, whose distressing, croaking assurance i had no wish to hear, she being my only company if i except the clock, whose hoarse ticking was audible above the gale, and the skeleton skulking inside, whose hourly resurrection i was now in the temper to as greatly dislike as the bird's iterative denunciation. i wondered how the young lady contrived to pass her time. had she books? if so, they would doubtless be dull performances in old dutch, fat and wormy volumes bound in hard leather--as sluggish in their matter as a canal, and very little calculated to amuse a spirited girl. evidently, in the five years she had been sailing with vanderdecken, she had learnt what she knew of dutch; she spoke fluently, and with a good accent, though, to be sure, it was the dutch of . i constantly directed my eyes towards her cabin, in the hope of seeing her emerge, for i felt mighty dull and sad, and longed for the sight of her fair and golden beauty; and all the while i was wondering how she had endured, without losing her mind, the dreadful imprisonment she had undergone and was yet undergoing, and the still more fearful association of the captain and his men. i also employed myself in turning over several schemes for escaping with her, but nothing that was really practicable offered. suppose we met with an unsuspecting ship--i mean a vessel that did not know we were the craft that has been called the flying dutchman--vanderdecken, being willing to get rid of me, sends me to her in a boat. i cry out that there is a young lady left behind breaking her heart for home, whereupon explanations would follow to prove the vessel the death ship! what would happen? in all probability, if i had managed to board the vessel we met, her crew, to preserve her from the curse, would fling me overboard. in any case, away they would run directly the truth was known. indeed, acquainted as i was with the terror with which vanderdecken was viewed by all classes of mariners, 'twas positive that, though he had no suspicion himself of the dread he inspired, the story that would have to be told concerning miss dudley to account for her detention in the phantom ship would end in resolving those we encountered to have nothing to do with either her or me, but to bear a hand and "up sticks!" as to getting away with her in one of the dutchman's boats, first, how was i to hoist the boat over the side unperceived? next, suppose that was to be managed, then on his missing us would not vanderdecken, a man of fierce resolution, hunt after and perhaps find us, when i should be at the mercy of one in whom there was a great deal of the devil, and who, heaven knows, could not revenge himself more awfully than by keeping me in his ship. several projects i thought of, and then a strange idea came into my head. here was a girl without mother or father, and, as i gathered, entirely friendless and penniless, as indeed in this latter article she could hardly help being as the child of a sailor. suppose i should succeed in escaping with her? how could an association such as ours end but in a wedding? and did that consideration agitate me? faith, though i had only known her since this morning, i reckoned, being young and in an especial degree an admirer and lover of the kind of beauty and sweetness this girl had in perfection, it would not need many days to pass before my heart would be hers. forthwith my imagination grew sunny. many bright and delightful ideas occurred to me. would not my tremendous experience find a glorious crowning in the hand of this girl and her endowment by vanderdecken, who loved her, out of those chests of treasure and coin which he had in his hold? would it be impossible for me to persuade him, say after the next gale which blew him back from agulhas, to put us aboard some vessel homeward bound along with a chest of treasure for his wife as an earnest of what was coming, and so enable me to convey miss dudley straight to amsterdam there to await his arrival? it was but a young man's fancy, pretentious and inconsistent with my opinion of the captain's temper and his ignorance of the curse that lay on him; and it was not perhaps strictly honest. though if you come to consider that his doom would never suffer him to use the riches he had in his ship, nor to know whether i had faithfully carried miss dudley to his house on the buitenkant--where i afterwards heard he was living when he sailed--you will not judge me harshly for thus idly and merrily dreaming. i was in the midst of this castle-building when the hour of noon was struck by the clock. i watched the figure of death hewing with his lance, but with an abstracted eye, my mind being full of gay and hopeful fancies. but the moment the last stroke had rung, the parrot cried out:-- "wy zyn al verdomd!" with so fierce an energy that it broke up my thoughts as you destroy a spider's web by passing your finger through it, and i dropped my chin on to my breast with my spirits dashed. end of volume i. printed by tillotson and son, mawdsley street bolton transcriber's notes obvious punctuation errors repaired. inconsistent hyphenation fixed. p. : scare an ocean-danger -> scarce an ocean-danger. p. : easy do be seen -> easy to be seen. p. : most greviously -> most grievously. p. : how participent of what stirs the minds -> how participant of what stirs the minds. p. : we had had run -> we had run. p. : the replied he did not doubt it was one of he vessels -> he replied he did not doubt it was one of the vessels. p. : prius -> prins. p. : manoeuvring -> manoeuvering. p. : the the evil spirit -> the evil spirit. p. : admire the patness -> admire the aptness. the death ship the death ship a strange story; an account of a cruise in "the flying dutchman," collected from the papers of the late mr. geoffrey fenton, of poplar, master mariner. by w. clark russell, author of "the wreck of the grosvenor," "the golden hope," "a sea queen," etc., etc. in three volumes vol. ii london hurst and blackett, limited , great marlborough street _all rights reserved_ printed by tillotson and son, mawdsley street bolton contents of the second volume. chapter. page. i.--imogene says she will trust me ii.--vanderdecken exhibits some treasure iii.--imogene and i are much together iv.--the gale breaks v.--the death ship's forecastle vi.--we sight a ship vii.--we watch the ship approach us viii.--the centaur flies from us ix.--vanderdecken walks in his sleep x.--we sight a dismasted wreck xi.--the dead helmsman xii.--the dutch sailors board the wreck xiii.--the dutchman obtains refreshments xiv.--my life is attempted xv.--my sweetheart's joy the death ship. chapter i. imogene says she will trust me. a half-hour passed, and during that time i had sufficiently recovered from the distressful croak of the parrot to wonder, as any sailor would, how the ship was navigated; for i could not doubt that the clock kept pretty close to the true time, since the easting and westing made by the ship was small, never, perhaps, exceeding ten degrees; and the circumstance of noon having struck set me wondering in what fashion the captain and mates navigated the ship, whether they used the cross-staff or relied on dead reckoning, or were supernaturally conned. at half-past twelve arrived prins, to prepare the table for dinner. i was so dull that his coming was extremely welcome, and i watched him go about his work with interest, not, perhaps, unmixed with fear. out of the great drawer, under the table, he withdrew the cloth, knives, forks, silver goblets and the like, which had been set out for breakfast; but his movements were those of a marionette rather than a man's, he scarcely looked at what he did, putting a goblet here, a knife and fork there and so on, with the lifeless air of an object controlled by mechanism. small wonder that the unhappy wretch should know his business! he had been at it long enough! yet it wrung my heart to watch him and to think that he would still be arranging the cabin tables for meals, and attending upon vanderdecken and his mates when heaven alone knows how many times the wave of civilisation should have followed the sun round the globe, and how often our british islands should have lapsed into their ancient savageness and emerged again. whilst he was at this work, miss dudley stepped out of her cabin. she came to a stand, not instantly recognising me in my own clothes, but quickly satisfying herself, she advanced with a smile and sat down near me, with no further sign of timidity than a slight blush which greatly heightened her beauty. "where is captain vanderdecken?" said she. "i left him on deck three-quarters of an hour since," i answered. "we were talking when he suddenly broke off, and i should have supposed him in a fit but for his erect posture and the fiery life in his eyes." "this happens to them all," said she, "as you will find out. i do not know what it means or why it should be." "possibly," i exclaimed, recalling the conjecture i have already written down, "the death in them grows too strong at periods, for the power that sustains them, be it demoniac or not, and then follows a failure of the vitality of the body, which yet leaves the spirit--as one sees it flashing in vanderdecken's eyes--strong enough to recover the corporeal forces from their languor. but how terrible is all this for you to be living familiarly with!--the sweet, fresh, human life of the world your beauty would adorn and gladden, hidden from you behind the melancholy sea-line, and the passage of months, yes, and of years, finding you still aimlessly beating about these waters, with no better companions than beings more frightful in their shapes and behaviour as men than were they phantoms which the hand could not grasp and whose texture the eye can pierce." "what can i do, mr. fenton? captain vanderdecken will not part with me. how can i escape?" she cried, with her eyes brimming. "if i cast myself overboard, it would be to drown; if i succeeded in gaining the shore when we anchored near to the coast, it would be either to perish upon the broiling sands, or be destroyed by wild beasts, or be seized by the natives and carried into captivity." "but if a chance offered to make good your escape without the risks you name, would you seize it?" "oh, yes!" "well," said i, speaking with such tenderness and feeling, such a glow and yearning in my heart that you would say the tiny seed of love in my breast, watered by her tears, was budding with the swiftness of each glance at her into flower, "whilst i have been sitting melancholy and alone i have turned over in my mind how i am to deliver you from this dreadful situation. no scheme as yet offers, but will you trust me as an english sailor to find a means to outwit these dutchmen, ay, though the devil himself kept watch when they were abed?... one moment, miss dudley--forgive me, it had not been my intention to touch upon this matter until time had enabled you to form some judgment of me. but when two are of the same mind, and the pit that has to be jumped is a deep one, it would be mere foppery in me to stand on the brink with you, chattering like a frenchman about anything else sooner than speak out and to the point as a plain seaman should." "mr. fenton," she answered, "i will trust you. if you can see a way to escape from this ship i will aid you to the utmost of my strength and accompany you. you are a sailor; my father was of that calling, and as an english seaman you shall have my full faith." it was not only the words, but her pretty voice, her sparkling eyes, her earnest gaze, the expression of hope that lighted up her face with the radiance of a smile rather than of a smile itself, which rendered what she said delightful to me. i answered, "depend upon it your faith will animate me, and it will be strange if you are not in england before many months, nay, let me say weeks, have passed." here leaning her cheek in her hand she looked down into her lap with a wistful sadness in her eyes. not conceiving what was passing in her mind, i said, "whatever scheme i hit upon will take time. but what are a few months compared with years on board this ship--years which only death can end!" "oh!" she answered, looking at me fully, but with a darkness of tears upon those violet lights, "i don't doubt your ability to escape and rescue me, nor was i thinking of the time you would require or how long it may be before we see england. what troubles me is to feel that when in england--if it please god to suffer me to set foot once more upon that dear soil--i shall have no friend to turn to." i was about to speak, but she proceeded, her eyes brimming afresh: "it is rare that a girl finds herself in my situation. both my father and mother were only children and orphans when they married, my mother living with a clergyman and his wife at rotherhithe as governess to their children when my father met her. the clergyman and his lady are long since dead. but were they living, they would not be persons i should apply to for help and counsel, since my mother often spoke of them as harsh, mean people. the few relations on my mother's side died off; on my father's side there was--perhaps there yet is--an uncle who settled in virginia and did pretty well there. but i should have to go to that country to seek him with the chance of finding him dead. thus you will see how friendless i am, mr. fenton." "you are not of those who remain friendless in this world," said i, softly, for can you marvel that a young man's heart will beat quickly when such a beauty as imogene dudley is, tells him to his face that she is friendless. "i implore you," i added, "not to suffer any reflection of this sort to sadden or swerve you in your determination to leave this ship----" "no, no!" she interrupted, "it will not do that. better to die of famine among the green meadows at home than--oh!" she cried, with hysterical vehemence, "how sweet will be the sight of flowers to me, of english trees, and hedges blooming with briar roses and honeysuckles. this dreadful life!" she clasped her hands with a sudden passionate raising of her eyes, "these roaring seas, the constant screaming of the wind that bates its tones only to make a desolate moaning, the company of ghost-like men, the fearful sense of being in a ship upon which has fallen the wrath of the majesty of god! oh, indeed, indeed it must end!" and burying her face in her hands she wept most grievously, sobbing aloud. "what will end, mynheer? and what is it that causes thee, imogene, to weep?" exclaimed the deep, vibratory voice of vanderdecken. i started, and found his great figure erect behind me, a certain inquisitiveness in the expression of his face, and much of the light shining in his eyes that i had remarked when he fell into that posture of trance i have spoken of. i answered as readily as my knowledge of his tongue permitted, "miss dudley weeps, sir, because this gale, as others have before, retards the passage of your ship to amsterdam; and 'tis perfectly natural, consistent, indeed, with the wishes of all men in the braave, that she should wish the baulking storm at an end." he came round to his high-backed chair, and seated himself, and, putting his arm along the table, gently took imogene's wrist, and softly pulled her hand away from her face, wet with her tears, saying, "my dear, your fellow-countryman is right; it is the sorrow of every creature here that this gale should blow us backwards, and so delay our return; but what is more capricious than the wind? this storm will presently pass, and it will be strange," he added, with a sudden scowl darkening his brow, and letting go miss dudley's hand as he spoke, "if next time we do not thrust the braave into an ocean where these north-westers make way for the strong trade wind that blows from the south-east." she dried her eyes and forced a smile, acting a part as i did; that is to say, she did not wish he should suspect her grief went deeper than i had explained; though i could not help observing that in directing her wet, sweet, violet eyes, with her mouth shaped to a smile, upon him, a plaintive gratitude underlay her manner, an admixture of pity and affection, the exhibition of which made me very sure of the quality of her heart. to carry vanderdecken's thoughts away from the subject he supposed miss dudley and i had been speaking about, i asked her in dutch what she had been doing with herself since breakfast. she answered in the same language that she had been lying down. "have you books?" said i. "a few that belong to the captain. some are in french and i cannot read them. the others are in dutch. there is also a collection of english poetry, some of which is beautiful, and i know many verses by heart." "are these works pretty new?" said i. she answered, "of various years; the newest, i think, is dated ." "ay," said vanderdecken, "that will be my friend bloys van treslong's book upon the tulip-madness." finding him willing to converse, i was extremely fretted to discover that, owing to my ignorance of the literature and art of his time, i could not "bring him out" as the phrase runs, for looking into the batavian story since, i find scores of matters he could have told me about, such as the building of ships at hoorn, the customs of the people, the tulip-madness he had mentioned, the great men such as jan six, rembrandt, jan steen, van campen who designed the stadhuis and others, some of whom--as happened in the case of the great willem schouten--he may have known and haply smoked pipes of tobacco with. but be this as it may, we had got back again to the gale when prins brought in the dinner, and in a few minutes arrived the mate, van vogelaar, whereupon we fell to the meal, imogene saying very little and often regarding me with a thoughtful face and earnest eyes as though, after the maiden's way in such matters, she was searching me; i taciturn, the mate sullen in expression and silent, as his death-like face would advertise the beholder to suppose him ever to be, and vanderdecken breaking at intervals from the deep musing fit he fell into to invite me to eat or drink with an air of incomparable dignity, hardened as it was by his eternal sternness and fierceness. at this meal i found the food to be much the same as that with which we had broken our fast. but in addition there was a roasted fowl and a large ham; and into each silver goblet prins poured a draught of sherry--a very soft and mellow wine--which i supposed vanderdecken had come by through the same means which enabled him to obtain coats for his own and his men's backs, and ropes for his masts and sails, and brandy and gin for his stone jars--that is, by overhauling wrecks and pillaging derelicts, for certainly strong waters were not to be got by lying off the coast and going a-hunting. yet though the wine put a pleasant warmth into my veins, insomuch that i could have talked freely but for the depressing influence of the captain and his mate, them it no more cheered and heartened, it gave them no more life and spirit than had they been urns filled with dust into which the generous liquor had been poured. several times, indeed, whilst i was on board that ship, have i seen vanderdecken, vogelaar, and arents swallow such draughts of punch out of bowls, as would have laid me senseless in five minutes, yet these capacious jorums gave rise in them to not the least signs of jollity; as, indeed, how should it have been otherwise, for their brains were dead to all but the supernatural influence that kept them moving--dead as the works of a going watch--and what is there in the fumes of wine to disorder embodied ghosts? chapter ii. vanderdecken exhibits some treasure. when vogelaar left the cabin to relieve arents on deck, vanderdecken exhibited a disposition to talk. he gently took imogene's chin in his hand and chided her very tenderly, yet without the slightest quality of what we should call pleasantness in his manner. for this would have brought him to some show of good-humour, whereas never during the time i was thrown with him did i see the least light of merriment on his face; i say, he chided her, but very gently, for crying at the delay caused by the storm, and exclaimed, motioning to me, "here is a seaman. he will tell you that this is a stormy part of the ocean, and that at this season of the year we must look for gales from the north-west; but he will also know that these tempests are short-lived and that a breeze from the east, north or south, must carry us round the cape as fairly as our helm controls us." "oh! that is so indeed, miss dudley," said i, quickly, and darting a meaning glance at her; and wishing to change the subject i went on: "mynheer, when i was in your cabin last night shifting myself, i noticed a cross-staff. 'twould be of no use to you to-day, the sun being blotted out. failing an observation, upon what method do you rely for knowing your position?" "what else but the log?" he exclaimed. "i compute entirely by dead-reckoning. the staff hath often set me wide of the mark. the log fairly gives me my place on the sea card, and then there is the lead." i bowed by way of thanking him, for in this direction i gathered by his rejoinder as much as he could have acquainted me with in an hour's discourse, besides, the earnest regard of the pair of sweet light eyes opposite reminded me that i must be very wary in showing myself inquisitive. "you have a sharp sight, sir," said vanderdecken, but speaking without any fierceness, "to see that fore-staff in my cabin by the faint light there was. what else did you observe?" i told him honestly, for i could imagine no challenge to his wrath in answering, that i had seen a speaking-trumpet, sand-glass, pictures, and the like. but as though imogene knew him better and desired to shield me, she instantly said, "oh, captain, will not you show mr. fenton the pictures of your wife and children? they will charm him, i know." on this he called prins to bring the pictures. if ever i had doubted this ship was the veritable flying dutchman the portraits would have settled my misgivings once and for all. the material on which they were painted was cracked in places, and the darkness of age lay very gloomy and thick upon them. they were all of a size, about ten inches long and six inches broad. he put his wife before me first and watched me with his fierce eyes whilst i pored upon the painting. the picture was that of a portly lady in a black close-fitting cap, the hair yellow, the bosoms very large, a square-shouldered heavy woman of the true dutch mould, round-faced, not uncomely, and perhaps of five and forty years of age. how she was dressed i could not tell, but the arms were bare from the elbows, and they and the hands were, methought, very delicately painted and exquisitely life-like. the others were those of girls of different ages. which of them captain vanderdecken imagined miss dudley to resemble i could not conceive; there was nothing in these darksome likenesses, albeit they represented maidenhood and infancy, to suggest a resemblance to the english beauty of the fragile, large-eyed, gold-crowned face of imogene dudley. she that was named geertruida was of a style that came close to good looks, eyes merry, dainty mouth, but cheeks too fat. here was little margaretha, for whom the piping swain had been purchased, peering at me with a half-shy, half-wondering look out of the dusky background. as i returned them one by one, the captain took them from me, lingering long upon each and making such comments as "'tis johanna to the life!" meaning his wife. "what art is more wonderful than this of portrait painting? no age is likely to beat our time, and no nation the dutch. how alive is the eye here! methinks if i spoke angrily to her she would weep!" or "you will find this girl," meaning geertruida, "a true sister, imogene, homely, honest and innocent, so fond of fun but yet so dutiful, that there is no woman in all holland who would make a better wife," or "ah! little one, thy father will be with thee ere long," stopping to kiss the painting of his daughter margaretha. prins stood by to receive the pictures, but vanderdecken hung over this one for some minutes, falling motionless, insomuch that i thought another one of his strange fits or trances had seized him; and perfectly still for those moments were miss dudley and i, often glancing at each other as though both of us alike felt the prodigious significance imported into this spectacle of a father's love, by the bellowing of the wind, and the long, yearning, sickening, broadside rushes of the ship, ruthlessly hurled back by the surge and storm into the deeper solitude of those waters whose confines she was never to pass. now arents left the table, never having given us, nor our talk, nor the pictures, the smallest imaginable heed. his going brought vanderdecken back to life, so to speak; and he handed the picture of his child to prins. i looked at him, expecting, though god knows why, to see a tear. but whatever sensibility heaven had permitted this man to retain did not appear in his face. had it been cast in brass it could not have been harder and more impenetrable. his eyes were full of their former passionate scornful life and light. they made me think, supposing him to show now as he would have appeared at the time of his death, that he was one who would have met his end full of impatience, imperious rage, and savage decrial of the holy ordinances of nature. but oh, the sadness, the sadness of the spectacle i had contemplated! this tender perusal by a husband and father of the beloved lineaments of those whom he deemed living, ay! and still looking as they looked at him from the canvas, but who had been dead so many years that time had perhaps erased the name from the stone that marked the burial-place of the youngest of them all--the little margaretha! and how much longer would these portraits last, i asked myself? 'twas certain by the evidences of decay in them that they had not the vitality of the ship and of those who sailed her. what then? the years would blot them out. yet mercy he would surely deserve who loved his wife and children as this man did. and i still sometimes fondly hope that memory may be permitted to serve him in lieu of his eyes, so that in gazing upon the time-blackened canvas he may as truly see with intellectual sight the faces of his dear ones as though they stood out bright, fresh and life-like, as at the hour in which they were painted. all the time i looked at these pictures i would notice miss dudley watching me, quickly averting her gaze when mine met hers. i put down this scrutiny to her wish to gather my character, though i need not at this distance expect to be reproached for my vanity if i say that i thought that was not her only reason for following me with her eyes. i pray you consider the life she had led since the destruction of her father's ship and the loss of her parents; how that she was now grown to be a woman; and how that i was not only a young, but bright, fair, merry-eyed sailor, her own countryman, of the calling she loved for her father's sake, and the sweeter to her sight for breaking in upon her mournful life and offering to snatch her from the frightful companionship of the death ship's crew. but more of this anon. whilst prins was in the captain's cabin hanging up the pictures, she exclaimed, "it is a dull and dreary day. how are we to kill the time?" as she spoke the clock struck, and the parrot, instead of using her customary expression, laughed out loudly, "ha! ha! ha!" "that bird," said i, "seems to know what we are talking about. it is a pretty notion of hers to laugh at your inquiry when she sees how vainly old death in the clock yonder stabs at time." this i spoke in english. "what do you say, mynheer?" demanded vanderdecken. "oh, captain!" exclaimed miss imogene, as if she was carrying on the sense of my remarks, "could not we prettily dispatch an hour by looking at some of the treasure you have below?" she laid her little white hand on his, and pleaded with her eyes. "it will be a treat to mr. fenton to see the fine things you have, and i am still childish enough to love the sparkle of precious stones." he turned to me and said, "sir, i have no objection, but our countries are at war, and in case of your being transshipped i have to ask you, on your honour as a gentleman and a seaman, not to give information of the objects the lady desires me to show you." i never before witnessed a finer dignity in any man's air than that which ennobled him as he spoke. i gave him my assurance, feeling that i cut but a mean figure in my manner of answering after his own majestic and haughty aspect and the rich and thrilling tones in which he had delivered himself, nor will i pretend that i was not moved at the vanity and idleness of the obligation of silence he imposed upon me, for whatever treasure he had would be as safe in his ship as on the sandy bed of the sea, even though on my escaping i should go and apprise all the admirals in the world of its existence. he said no more but, calling to prins, ordered him to clear the table, bring pipes and tobacco, and then take some seamen with him into--as i understood--the half-deck and bring up two chests of treasure, those which were lashed on the starboard side, close against the bulkhead. the cloth was removed, we lighted our pipes, and after we had waited some little while, prins, with several sailors, appeared, bearing among them two stout, apparently very heavy, chests, which they set down upon the cabin floor, taking care to secure them by lashings and seizings to the stanchions, so that they should not slip with the ship's lurches. the sailors interested me so much that, whilst they were with us, i looked only at them. it was not that there was anything in their faces, if i except the dreadful pallor, or in their attire, to fix my attention; it was that they were a part of the crew of this accurst ship, participators in the doom that vanderdecken had brought upon her, members of a ghostly band the like of which it might never be permitted to mortal man to behold again. one had very deep-sunk eyes, which shone in their dark hollows with much of the fire that gave a power of terrifying to those of the captain. another had a long, grizzly beard, over which his nose curved in a hook, his little eyes lay close against the top of his nose, and his hair, that was wet with spray or rain, lay like new-gathered seaweed down to pretty near his shoulder-blades. this man's name, i afterwards heard, was tjaart van der valdt, whilst he that had the glowing eyes was called christopher roostoff. they all went about in the soulless, mechanical way i was now used to, and, when they had set down the chests, prins dismissed them with an injunction to stand by ready to take them below again. the cases were about three feet high, and ranging about five feet long; they were heavily girt with iron bands, and padlocked with massive staples. prins opened them and flung back the lids, and then, to be sure, i looked down upon treasures the like of which in quality, i'll not say quantity, in one single ship, the holds of the acapulco galleons could alone rival, or the caves in which the old buccaneers hid their booty. miss dudley, seeing me rise, left her seat, and came to my side. vanderdecken stepped round, and leaned against the table, his arms folded, and his body moving only with the rolling of the ship. i should speedily grow tedious were i to be minute in my description of what i saw, yet i must venture a short way in this direction. in one box there were fitted four trays, each tray divided into several compartments, and every compartment was filled with precious stones, set in rings, bracelets, bangles and the like, and with golden ornaments, such as birds for the hair, brooches, necklets, chains for wearing about the waist or neck, and other such things of prodigious value and beauty of device. i asked leave to examine some of these objects, and on picking them up noticed that some were of a much more antique character than others, insomuch that i said to miss imogene in english, "i suspect that much of these splendours our friend will have collected at different periods." she answered in our tongue, "he can tell you what he purchased at batavia, or what was consigned to him for delivery at amsterdam, but his memory after that is a blank, and the last wreck he can recall, in which he found several quintals of silver and unminted gold, is the fryheid that he met--i cannot tell where--in a sinking condition." "there is more treasure aboard than this! cried i. "much more!" she replied. then turning to vanderdecken, who had fixed his eyes on me without moving his head, she said, "i am telling mr. fenton that these chests represent but a handful of the treasure in this ship." "i am dazzled by what i see, mynheer, said i, speaking whilst prins raised the trays disclosing many hundreds of guineas' worth of ornaments and stones. "had i but the value of one of these trays alone this should be my last voyage." "ay," said he, "there is much that is beautiful here. much that will yield good sums. but a large number of the articles in that chest belong to a merchant; there are likewise consignments, and my own share is but a speculation." the other chest had but one tray, in which lay many golden crucifixes of different sizes, goblets, flagons, candlesticks, all gold, whilst beneath were numbers of a kind of small bricks or bars of pewter, which miss imogene told me were gold that had been originally disguised in this way as a blind to the pirates. in addition were several great canvas bags, into which prins, moving always as an automaton, thrust his hand, bringing forth different sorts of coins, such as rix-dollars, ducatoons, ducats, batavian rupees, spanish dollars, and even schillings, worth no more than six stivers apiece. there is a pleasure in looking at bright and sparkling objects, at the beauty of gold worked into strange or fantastic shapes, at jewels and stones in their multitude, gleaming out in twenty colours at once. and had i been a picaroon or a woman, i could not have surveyed this collection with sharper delight, though i hope you will not suppose that i felt the buccaneer's thirst for the things. but when my glance went to vanderdecken, all the shining seemed to die out, and the richest of the jewels to lose its glory. not that this was actually so; it was the reflection excited in me that darkened the radiance of that treasure. there stood the great, majestic captain, with his arms folded over his beard, and his eyes fixed on the chest, frightfully symbolising--more wildly and sternly than could the corpse of a miser lying in a coffin, into which had been poured all the ducats he had hoarded in his life--the worthlessness of that wealth of which the desire makes devils of men in secret oppressions and bitter, hidden cruelties. had vanderdecken been veritably dead--recumbent--a corpse--the sight of him alongside those cases of costly things would not haply have affected me; 'twas the simulation of life in him, his unhallowed and monstrous vitality, that rendered his typification of the uselessness after death of that for which many among us sell our hearts, nay, diligently toil to extinguish the last spark of the heavenly fire which the creator sends us into this life radiant with; as who, looking at a babe's face, but sees?--that rendered, i say, his typification terrible. you could see he took no joy whatever in the contents of the cases; he eyed them stonily; you witnessed no pricking up of his ears to the tinkling and jingling rattle made by the coins as prins poured them out and back again. nor, had the money been shingle and the jewels and gold ornaments pieces of coal, could prins have worked with duller eyes or more mechanical motions. i said to miss imogene, pointing as i spoke to the chests that vanderdecken might suppose we talked of the treasure in them, "he does not appear to care the snap of a finger for what is there. if the sense of possession is dead in him, why should he take whatever he can find of jewels, gold or silver, from the ships in which he is fortunate enough to find such things?" "if your brain will not help you to such matters, how should mine?" she replied, with a faint smile. "the idea has never before occurred to me, but be sure 'tis a part of his punishment. he may feel no pleasure in the possession of his wealth; yet he knows it is on board, and it may be intended to render every gale that beats him back more and more bitter and hard by delaying him from carrying his cargo home." this was shrewdly imagined, i thought, though it did not satisfy me, because since 'twas sure that he had lost recollection of preceding gales, succeeding ones could not gain in bitterness. in truth, we were afloat in a fearful and astonishing mystery, from which my eagerness to deliver the sweet and fragrant girl by my side grew keener with every look of hers that met mine, and with every glance i directed at the captain and around the ancient interior that time had sickened to the complexion of the death which worked this ship in the forms of men. having satisfied me with a sight of these treasures, vanderdecken ordered prins to have the chests removed, and we then returned to the table to smoke out the tobacco that remained in our pipes. chapter iii. imogene and i are much together. so far i have been minute, accounting for every hour and all things which happened therein since i was picked up by the mate of the death ship and put aboard her. my first impressions were keen and strong, and i have sought to lay them before you in the order in which they occurred. but to pursue this particularity of narrative, to relate every conversation, to regularly notice the striking of the clock, the movements of the skeleton, and the hoarse comminatory croak of the parrot, would be to speedily render this tale tedious. therefore let me speak briefly for a little space. the storm blew with steady fury for six days, driving the tall fabric to leeward to a distance of many leagues every twenty-four hours, the course of the drift being as i should suppose--for it was impossible to put much faith in the compasses--about south-east by east, the larboard tacks aboard and the ship "ratching" nothing. it was so continuous and heavy, this gale, that it began to breed a feeling of despair in me, for i felt that if such weather lasted many weeks it would end in setting us so far south that we should be greatly out of the road taken by ships rounding the cape, and so remote from the land, that should vanderdecken desire to careen or water his vessel it would occupy us months to fetch the coast, so that the prospect of escaping with miss imogene grew small and gloomy. added to which was the melancholy of the cell-like cabin in which it was my lot to sleep, the fiery crawlings, the savage squeakings of great rats, the grinding, groaning and straining noises of the labouring structure, likewise the sickening, sweeping, soaring, falling motions of the high light vessel, movements which, as we drove further south, where the seas were swollen into mountains by the persistent hardness of the gale and the vastness of the liquid plain along which they coursed, furious with the fiendish lashing of the thongs of the storm, grew at times so insupportable that, sailor as i was and used to the sea in all its moods, i would often feel faint and reel to a sensation of nausea. but imogene was never in the least degree discomposed. she was so used to the ship that its movements were to her what the steadiness of dry land is to other women. she seldom came on deck however. indeed, the gusts and guns were often so fierce--coming along like thunderbolts through the gale itself--that any one of them catching her gown might have carried her light figure overboard. moreover, twenty-four hours after the gale set in, it drew up thick as mud; the horizon was brought within reach of a musket-shot; and out of this thickness blew the rain, in straight lines, mixed with the showering off the heads of the seas; the sky hung steady, of the colour of slate--no part lighter or darker than another, but so low that it appeared as if a man could whip his hand into it from our masthead whenever those reeling spars came plumb. as it gave me no pleasure to linger on deck in such weather, you may suppose that miss imogene and i were much together below. often a whole morning or afternoon would pass without a soul entering the cabin where we sate. whether vanderdecken was pleased to think that imogene had a companion--a fellow-countryman, with whom she could converse, and so kill the time which he would suspect from her recent fit of weeping hung heavy on her spirits; or that, having himself long passed those marks which time sets up as the boundaries of human passions, he was as incapable of suspecting that imogene and i should fall in love, as he clearly was of perceiving the passage of years; 'tis certain he never exhibited the smallest displeasure when, perchance, he found us together, albeit once or twice on entering the cabin when we were there he would ask imogene abruptly, but never with the sternness his manner gathered when he addressed others, what our talk was about, as if he suspected i was inquiring about his ship and cargo; though if, indeed, this was so, i don't doubt the suspicion was put into his head by van vogelaar, who, i am sure, hated me as much because i was an englishman as because our panic-stricken men had fired upon him. it takes a man but a very short time to fall in love, though the relation of the thing, if the time be very short, is often questioned as a possibility, sometimes heartily laughed at as an absurdity, when deliberately set down in writing. why this should be i do not know. i could point to a good many men married to women with whom they fell in love at a dance, or by seeing them in the street, or by catching sight of them in church and the like. i have known a man to become passionately enamoured of a girl by beholding her picture. and what says marlowe? "who ever loved that loved not at first sight?" depend upon it, when passion is of slow growth and cultivated painfully, you may suspect a deficiency somewhere. either the girl is not delightful of face and shape and her virtues and good qualities are hard to come at, or she is a tease and a coquette, and, in a manner of speaking, puts her foot down upon a man's heart and prevents the emotion there from shooting. there will be something wanting, something wrong, i say. association may indeed lengthily induct one into a habit of affection, but the sort of love i have in my mind springs like a young god into a man's intelligence from a maiden's eyes. but whether this swift passion is more lasting than the affection that is formed by slower mental processes, and which of them is the safer to trust to, is no riddle for such as i to bother over. and in sober verity, i am sorry to have been led into these remarks, which certainly should be omitted if they were not necessary as an apology. for the truth must be told, and it is this: that the very first morning i met imogene i fell in love with her beauty, while the long days of the storm which threw us greatly together confirmed the first movement of my heart by acquainting me with the extraordinary sweetness, innocence, gentleness and purity of her nature. these qualities, unlike the enchanting hue and brightness of her eyes, the golden falls of her hair, and her many other fairy graces, were not quickly discoverable, but they stole out during our many conversations. who that has been to sea knows not how speedily character is discovered on shipboard? and i say that before that gale was ended i was so much in love with this fair and tender girl that i could have laid down my life to serve her. this i should not have confessed, nor indeed made any reference to my love-passage, if it did not concern the influence exercised by the death ship on the lives and fortunes of those who have relations with her. in this time our conversation was about all sorts of things--her parents, her home, her childhood, the loss of her father's ship, the friendless condition she would be in on her arrival in england should i manage to deliver her from vanderdecken. though when she came to that, i begged her to dismiss her fears at once and for ever, by assuring her that my mother would gladly receive her and cherish her as her own daughter, having but me to love, who was always absent. at which a faint blush sweetened her cheeks as though she suspected what was in my mind; but i was careful to hurry away from the subject, since i did not wish her then to suppose i loved her, for fear that, not having had time, as i believed, to love me, she might fall into a posture of mind calculated to baffle my hopes of carrying her away from the braave. i told her all about myself, of the famous fenton from whom i was descended, of my voyages, of the saracen, whose passage to india i feared would have an ill issue now that she had met the dutchman, and i talked again of captain skevington's amazing, and, as i supposed, accurate theories touching the living-dead who navigated this ship. she had much to tell me of vanderdecken and his ship; of unsuspecting vessels they had fallen in with, which had sold them tobacco, butter, cheese, and the like. of others that had backed their topsails to speak, then taken fright and sailed away in hot haste. i asked her if it was true that the captain hailed passing ships for the purpose of sending letters home. she answered no; it was not true; that was the general belief as she had heard from her father; but, as vanderdecken did not know that he was curst--as he went on year after year, firmly believing that next time he should be successful in rounding the cape--why should he desire to send letters home, more particularly as he regarded the braave as one of the swiftest vessels afloat. she added, "i have never seen him write a letter, and i am certain he has never endeavoured to send one." "but if he finds a ship willing to speak, he will send a boat?" "yes, always; but merely for necessaries of which he is constantly in want. now it is tobacco; another time it will be spirits. some few weeks since we met a ship, from which he purchased several cases of marmalade and some hams, for which van vogelaar paid in coin that scared them, when they put the age of the money and the appearance of this ship together; for they threw the mate overboard, and instantly made off." "i suppose van vogelaar could not be drowned?" said i. "no," said she; "he, like the rest, have no other business in life than to live. they had put the hams and marmalade into the boat, and when they threw him in the sea, he swam very quietly to his companions." "what was the ship?" i asked. "a spaniard," she replied. "after they had put the ship before the wind i saw a number of them on the poop on their knees crossing themselves." "i cannot understand," said i, "why this ship should be termed a phantom. what could be more real than these timbers and the requirements of the people who navigate her?" "besides," exclaimed imogene, "if she is a phantom, how could vanderdecken write those letters in her which he is supposed to desire to send home? if you have a real letter, such as a person can put into his pocket and deliver, you must have real materials to produce it, ink, pens, paper, wafers, and something hard to sit upon, or kneel upon, or write upon." "certainly!" said i. "of a phantom the whole must be phantasmal. suppose a ghost dressed, its attire must be as unsubstantial as the essence it covers." "the truth about this ship is not known," she continued, "and it never can be known, because her influence is dreaded. vessels on finding out her character fly from her, and those who sell to her unsuspectingly pass away without giving her further thought." "or," said i, gloomily, "perhaps are never more heard of." in this way would we talk, and you may conceive we were at no loss for topics. on several occasions she showed me some of the dresses vanderdecken had furnished her with; of which i chiefly remember a chintz gown, spotted with roses, with sleeves swelling out like ruffs at the elbows; a pink dress, with a girdle to bring the waist close under the bosom; and a slate-coloured dress, with a red shawl for it, to be worn like a sash, and a kerchief for the throat; and i also recollect that she showed me some strange, very dainty caps, one to sit on the back of the head, another of black velvet and a feather, which she told me vanderdecken had said was worn on the side of the head. she put it on to explain its use, and a man's true darling she looked in it. once she came into the cabin dressed in the pink dress with the high waist; and very sweet did she appear. but i said to her that of all the apparel she had shown me nothing pleased me better than the black velvet jacket in which i had first seen her, and thereafter she constantly wore it. in short, the clothes vanderdecken had stocked her cabin with, including much fine linen, lace, collars, long gloves, shoes of several colours, and the like, were such as to suggest a costly theatrical wardrobe by reason of the variety of the styles representing fashions from the middle of the seventeenth century down to within twenty years of the time in which happened what i am here relating. it has been already explained how these things were gotten. you have only to consider that this ship sailed from batavia in , with a large stock of dresses, linen, jewellery, plate and so forth in her hold, besides her cargo, which stock vanderdecken, in whom there must still work the thrifty instincts of the hollander, just as he is suffered to love his pipe and bowl, and pine for both when the tobacco and spirits have run out, had replenished by appropriating such wares, treasure and apparel as he had a fancy for out of the ships he encountered abandoned at sea or cast away upon the african coast. you have only to consider this, i say, and bear in mind the great number of years he has been afloat, and how many scores of richly-laden merchantmen have passed and repassed that part of the ocean to which the curse confines him, to find nothing to marvel at in any catalogue of the contents of the braave that could be offered. besides having all these strange and often sumptuous articles of attire to show me and talk about, imogene had a great deal to tell me concerning the weary years she had spent in the vessel, wondering how her life was to end, how she was ever to get to england or to any other civilized country if vanderdecken refused to let her leave him, because of his fatherly affection for her and his conviction that he was homeward bound, and only temporarily delayed by the north-west gales which beat him back. she said that after a time she began to fear that she would lose her own language and be able to speak no tongue but the ancient dutch in which vanderdecken and his men conversed, to preserve herself from which calamity she regularly perused the collection of english poetry that the captain most fortunately had among his books. her grief was that the book, instead of poems, was not the holy scriptures, but she knew many prayers and hymns her mother had taught her, and these she never omitted reciting morning and night. you would have been touched had you heard her, marked the sadness that rendered madonna-like the character of her fragile, delicate beauty, observed the girlish innocence of the expression that shone with the moisture of unwept tears in the eyes she fixed on me, and then considered how she had been bereaved, how frightful for tediousness and dullness, and for the association of the mysterious beings into whose society she had been cast, must have been the five years she had spent on the death ship. i remember asking if she knew what religion vanderdecken was of; she answered she did not know for certain, but that she had heard him speak of his wife and family as having worshipped in the oude kerk. "indeed, mr. fenton," said she, "i don't believe he is or was of any religion at all. van vogelaar is a calvinist; he told me so one evening when i was speaking with surprise of antony jans being a catholic, as it is almost impossible to reconcile the fatness of that man with the austerities and mortifications of his creed." "there can be no doubt," said i, "that vanderdecken was--when human like you and me, without religion. his shocking defiance, and the condemnation that followed, proved that he acted out of sheer sin in his soul, and not out of a passing passion. and yet you would have supposed that a dutchman, no matter how secretly impious, would have behaved with more discretion than this skipper." "i dare say he would have been more discreet," said imogene, "had he imagined what was to follow." it was in this way, and in such talk, that we killed those six days of storm; and now i come to other matters. chapter iv. the gale breaks. on the sixth day, during dinner, vanderdecken said he believed we had seen the worst of the storm. there was a small lull in the wind, and a faintness sifting up, so to speak, from behind the peaks and valleys of the horizon into the sky all around, like a very dim dawning of fair weather innumerable leagues distant yet. "i shall be glad to see the sun again," said imogene. "let us get quit of these waters," exclaimed vanderdecken, moodily, and often dropping his knife and fork to take his beard in both hands and stroke it with a fixed look in his eyes, which would have made you swear he beheld a vision, "and we shall have so much sun every day climbing higher and higher until it hangs right over our mastheads like a flaming shield that the coolness of the biscayan sea and the entrance of the english channel shall be sweet as drink to a dry man." "pray, mynheer," said i, "how far to the eastwards do you suppose this gale has driven us?" he looked at me with a sudden temper in his face as if he would crush me for daring to ask. nevertheless, he answered, but with a deep thrill in the rich tremble of his voice, "about one hundred and fifty leagues, sir; and what of that?" "ay, and what of that?" exclaimed van vogelaar, who had turned a scowling eye on me on my asking this question. "why, nothing, gentlemen," i answered, warned by the violet eyes that dwelt upon me to slide out of this matter as quickly as i could. "the ground to be recovered is not great, and a pretty little south-east wind should float us, with square yards, round the cape in three or four days." vanderdecken made no response; his eyes fell away from me to the table, at which he gazed in the posture of one who dreams waking. van vogelaar, on the other hand, continued to stare at me for a long minute, which, as he sate on my right hand and consequently had to turn his head and hold his face full towards me, proved a very severe trial to my temper, insomuch that i could have beat him for his insolence. but a very little reflection taught me to consider this steadfast, surly and abusive regard as meaningless as a dead man's stare would be if moulded to the expression van vogelaar wore; so i waited till he should have made an end of his scrutiny, and the captain shortly after rising, i followed him on deck, the weather as yet being too heavy and wet for imogene. it was as vanderdecken had said. the gale had broke and we might look for a clear sky presently, yet the sea still ran fearfully high, and the wash and weltering of it along the sea-line that was now indifferently clear, suggested a vast sierra whose sides beyond were in sunshine, whilst over our trucks lay the sombre twilight of the tempest. there was still a fine rain in the air, though not such as to cloud the ocean, but i was so fascinated by the picture of the flying dutchman's fight with the mighty combers which rolled at her from the north and west that i lingered gazing till i was pretty near as soaked as when i had been fished up and brought aboard. but a sailor makes no trouble of a wet jacket so long as he has a dry shirt for his back, which i had, thanks to vanderdecken, who had been so good as to lend me several shifts of linen. i do not know that i ever saw or heard of a ship that threw from her such bodies of foam as did this vessel. she would rise at the sea buoyantly enough, yet at every lean-to to windward for a giddy sliding swoop into the hollow, she hurled an enormous space of seething and spitting and flashing froth many fathoms from her, into which she would sink as though it were snow and so squatter, as 'tis termed, and lie there whilst you might count to ten or fifteen, ere rising out of it to the irresistible heave of the next leviathan sea. often had i watched this picture during the six days, but the light breaking around the whole circle of the sea, like radiance dully streaming through greased paper, the decreasing force of the wind, that while leaving the surges still monstrous, suffered the ship to fall with deader weight to windward, thus enlarging the snow-like surface she cast from her whilst rendering it fiercer in its boiling, made this particular example of the ship's sea-going qualities a marvel in my sight, and i stood for a long time looking and looking. if ever a man was to guess the deathless character of this craft it would be at such a time as this. the giant forces of nature with which she had warred were languishing. the beaten storm, not indeed yet breathless, was slowly silencing the desperate roar of its invisible artillery; the seas, like battering-rams, thundered against her sides, but with a gradual lessening of their fury, and the victorious ship, her decks streaming, her bows and sides hound-like with salival drainings, a fierce music of triumphant shoutings aloft, her reefed courses swollen as are the cheeks of trumpeters urging to the conflict, rose and fell, pitched and strained, among those liquid heights and hollows, every nerve in her ancient fabric strung taut for a battle that was to be repeated again and again, whilst the faintness round the horizon waxed into a delicate brightness of sunshine streaming off the edge of the canopy that still hovered on high, and the wind sank into whistlings, without admixture of thunderous intervals, and the surge-slopes drooped out of their savage sharpness. by seven o'clock that night the gale was spent, and there was then blowing a quiet breeze from the west-south-west. the swell rolled slowly from the quarter from which the wind had stormed, and caused the braave to wallow most nauseously, but she grew a bit steadier after they had shaken the reefs out of the courses and made sail on her. i watched this business with deep interest. vanderdecken, standing on the poop, gave his orders to van vogelaar on the quarter-deck. the sailors went to work with true dutch phlegm and deliberateness, taking plenty of time to unknot the reef-points, then carrying the fore and main-jeers to the capstan, and walking round without a song, sullen and silent. there was no liveliness--none of the springing and jumping and cheerful heartiness you would expect in a crew who, after battling through six dismal days of black winds and lashing seas, were now looked down upon by a heaven of stars, shining gloriously among a few slowly-moving clouds. ay, you saw how dead were the bodies which the supernatural life in them kept a-going. they set their topsails, topgallant-sails and mizzen, which i have elsewhere described as a lateen-shaped sail secured to a yard, like to the triangular canvas carried by xebecs and gallies, then hoisted their jib or fore-staysail and let fall the clews of the spritsail, keeping the sprit-topsail handed. the larboard tacks were still aboard and the ship heading north, lying up for the coast that was now about two hundred and fifty to three hundred leagues from us. she made a wild picture, not wanting in solemnity either, yet charged with an element of fear. twilight is but short-lived in those seas and it was dark--though the sky as i have said was full of radiant galaxies--some while before they had ended the business of crowding sail upon the ship. amid the fury and froth of the gale the phosphoric gleamings of the timbers had been hidden; but now that peace had come and there was no other commotion than such as the long cradling swing of the swell produced, those grave-yard lights glistened out afresh and they made you think of the eyes of countless worms creeping in and out of the rottenness of an hundred and fifty years. it was certain that vanderdecken and his mates saw these misty, sickly, death-suggestive glimmerings; for the faint lights trembled along the decks, twinkled upon the masts, shone with sufficient power on the sides to make--as i had observed when the ship first drew near to the saracen--a light of their own in the black water; they must have been noticeable things to the crew, even as to imogene and me; for they saw what we saw--the sun, the stars, the ocean, the sails, the directions of the compass--whatever was to be seen. why, then, was it that this fluttering, malignant sheen did not catch their notice? i know not. maybe the senses permitted to them went so far only as to impel them to persevere in making the passage of the cape. for besides these phosphoric crawlings, the aged condition of the ship, her antique rig, and a variety of other features illustrating the passage of time, would have been visible to them, had their perception not been limited by the curse to the obligations it imposed. after a little vanderdecken went below, and presently returned bringing imogene with him. on the poop 'twas all darkness save for the phosphorescence in the ship and the sea-fire over the side. the captain and the lady came close before i distinguished them. "fair weather at last, mr. fenton!" she exclaimed, after peering to make sure of me, and then stopping so as to oblige vanderdecken to stop too, for he had her arm in his, and i think he meant to walk to and fro the deck with her. "yes," i replied, "heaven is merciful. such another six days i would not pass through for the wealth in this ship." "pray speak in dutch, sir, that i may follow you," said vanderdecken, with a certain stern and dignified courtesy. "if i could converse with ease, mynheer," said i, "i should speak in no other language aboard this vessel. as it is, i fear you do not catch half my meaning." "oh, yes! you are intelligible, sir," he answered, "though you sometimes use words which sound like dutch but signify nothing." "nothing to you, my friend," thought i; "but i warrant them of good currency in the amsterdam of to-day." in short, his language was to mine, or at least to the smattering i had of the batavian tongue, what the speech of a man of the time of charles ii. would be to one of this century--not very wide asunder; only that one would now and again introduce an obsolete expression, whilst the other would occasionally employ a term created years after his colloquist's day. "but it pleases me, captain, to speak in my own tongue," said imogene. "i should not like to forget my language." "it will be strange if you forget your language in a few months, my child!" he answered, with a slight surprise. a sudden roll of the ship causing the great mainsail to flap, he started, looked around him, and cried out with a sudden anger in his deep voice, to the steersman, "how is the ship's head?" "north-by-east," was the answer. "we want no easting," he cried out again, with the same passion in his voice, and strode with vehemence to the binnacle where stood antony arents, who had charge of the deck, and who had gone to view the compass on hearing the skipper call. "this will not do!" i heard the captain say, his deep tones rumbling into the ear as though you passed at a distance a church in which an organ was played. "by the bones of my father, i'll not have her break off! sweat your braces, man! take them to the capstan! if we spring our masts and yards for it she'll have to head nothing east of north!" there was a fierce impetuosity in his speech that made the delivery of it sound like a sustained execration. arents went forward and raised some cries. i could see the figure of vanderdecken black against the stars, up and down which he slided with the heave of the ship. he was motionless, close to the binnacle, and i could imagine the stormy rise and fall of his broad and powerful chest under his folded arms. the watch came aft to the braces and strained at them. 'twas a shadowy scene. there were none of those songs and choruses which seamen used to keep time in their pulling and hauling and to encourage their spirits withal. the boatswain, jans, was on the forecastle attending the fore: arents stood on the quarter-deck. occasionally one or the other shouted out an order which the dim concavities on high flung down again out of their hollows, as though there were ghosts aloft mocking at these labours. you saw the pallid shinings writhing about the feet of the sailors, and the sharper scintillations of the wood-work wherever it was chafed by a rope. when they had trimmed, but not yet with the capstan, arents called to the captain, who returned an answer implying that the ship had come up again, and that the trim as it was would serve. thereupon the men stole out of sight into the darkness forward, melting into the blackness as do visions of a slumberer into the void of deep and dreamless rest; arents returned to the poop and stood near the captain, who held his place with the entranced stirlessness i was now accustomed to see in him. but, no doubt, his eyes were on the needle, and had i dared approach, i might have beheld a fire in his eyes keener than the flame of the mesh with which the binnacle was illuminated. "you would know him as one not of this world," said i to imogene, "even should he pass you quickly in a crowd." "there are some lines in the book of poetry downstairs which fit him to perfection," she answered-- "'thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face bears a command in it; though thy tackle's torn, thou shew'st a noble vessel.'" "ay," said i, "they are wonderfully pat; they might have been made for him." "here are others," she continued-- "'he has, i know not what, of greatness in his looks and of high fate, that almost awes me.' "and when his moods change these verses are always present-- 'read'st thou not something in my face that speaks wonderful change and horror from within me?'" she put a tragic note into her voice as she recited; the starlight was in her eyes, and they were fixed on me; her face whitened out to the astral gleaming till you saw her hair throbbing on her forehead to the blowing of the wind. she continued-- "i could quote a score of passages marvellously true of the captain and his fellows, serving indeed as revelations to me, so keen are the eyes of poets. and little wonder," says she, with a sigh, "for what else have i had to read but that book of poetry!" "just now," said i, "he asked if you thought it likely you should lose your language in a few months. this plainly shows that he supposes he met with you in his passage from batavia--that is his last passage. now, since his finding you dates nearly five years back, and you tell me that he has only memory for what happened within the past few months, how does it fall out that he recollects your story, which he certainly does, for he asked me if you had related it to me?" "it must be," she answered, "because he is constantly alluding to it in speaking of the reception his wife and daughters will give me. it is also impressed upon him by my presence, by my frequent asking him to put me on board a homeward-going ship, and so it is kept in his mind as a thing constantly happening--continually fresh." "suppose i should stay in this ship say for six months, never speaking of the saracen nor recalling the circumstance of my coming on board, you believe his memory would drop the fact, and that he would view me as one who happened to be in the ship, and that's all, his mind stopping at that?" "how he would view you i cannot say; but i am certain he would forget how you came here, unless there was incessant reference to the saracen and to her men shooting at van vogelaar. but time would bear no part in this sort of recollection: he would still be living in the year of god , and sailing home from batavia; and if he thought at all he'd imagine it was in that year that you came on board his ship." well, here was a piece of metaphysics a touch above my intelligence and above this sweet creature's too, for she could only speak as she believed, without being able to account for the miraculous conditions of this ship's life and of that of her crew. and indeed i should not have teased her with such questions but for a great craving to obtain a just conception of the amazing character who has been, and must ever remain, the terror of all mariners; whilst beyond this again was a secret dread lest this fair enchanting woman should have been chosen to play a part in the marine tragedy; which i would have a right to fear if i found vanderdecken's relations with her, as regards his memory for instance, different from what they were in all other directions. plainly i mean this: that if she were being used as a divine instrument, then it was certain that i should not be suffered to deliver her from the death ship--an insupportable reflection at any time, but a mortal blow now that i had come to love her. meanwhile, the giant figure of the dutch captain stood motionless near the binnacle; close to him was the second mate, himself like a statue. the tiller-tackles, grasped by the helmsman, swayed him with every blow of the sea upon the rudder, yet even his movements had a lifelessness in them that was as apparent as though the man had been stricken dead at his post, and swung there against the dancing stars. a quick jerk of the ship causing imogene to lose her balance, she grasped my arm to steady herself by, and i took care she should not release me. indeed, from almost the first hour of our meeting there had been a yearning towards me, a wistfulness of a mute sort underlying her demeanour, and this night i found assurance of it by her manner, that was not indeed clinging, having more of nestling in it, as if i was her refuge, her one hope. she may have guessed i loved her. i cannot tell. my eyes may have said much, though i had not spoken. but there was that in her, as she stood by my side, with her hand under my arm, that persuaded me her heart was coming to mine, and haply more quickly because of our sole mortality amid the substantial shadows of the death ship's crew. you felt what that bond meant when you looked around you and saw the dimly-looming figure of vanderdecken beside the compass, the ghostly darkness of the second mate's form, the corpse-like swaying of the helmsman, as of an hanging body moved by the wind, and thought of the amazing human mysteries lost in the darkness forward, or slumbering in the hammocks, if, indeed, sleep was ever permitted to visit eyes which death was forbidden to approach. 'twas as if imogene stood on one side a grave, i on the other, and clasped hands for the courage we found in warm and circulating blood, over a pit filled with a heart-freezing sight. "we shall escape yet--fear not!" said i, speaking out of the heat of my own thoughts as though we were conversing on that subject. "may our saviour grant it!" she exclaimed. "see how black the white water around the ship makes her in spite of the strange fires which glow everywhere!" i felt her shiver as she cried, "the vessel seems to grow more terrible to my fancy. it may be because we have talked so much of her, and your views of vanderdecken and the crew have raised terrifying speculations in me." "we shall escape yet!" i repeated, hotly, for the very sense of our imprisonment and the helplessness of our condition for the time being, that might be long in terminating, was a thought so maddening that i felt in a temper to defy, scorn and spit in the face of the very devil himself was he to appear. but i had her right hand pressed to my heart; 'twas sure she felt the comfort of it, and together for some while in silence we stood viewing the ship, the fabric of whose hull stood out as though lined with india ink upon the ashen tremble of froth that seemed to embrace her length like shadowy-white arms, as the wind blowing mildly into her sails forced her to break the water at her stern as she slided athwart the swell. she made a sight to shrink from! the sailor's heart within me sank to this feebly-luminous mystery of aged yet imperishable hull, holding within her creatures so unnatural that the eye of man can view the like of them nowhere else, and raising her structure of ancient sail and masts to the stars which glided in blue and green and white along the yards with the rolling of her. little wonder that she should affright the mariner who meets her amid the lonely paths of the vast ocean she haunts. i clasped my brow with bewilderment in my brain. "surely," i cried to my companion, "i am dreaming. it cannot be that i at this moment am standing on the deck of the death ship!" she sought to soothe me, but she was startled by my behaviour, and that perception enabled me to rally. if she as a weak and lonely maiden could bravely support five years of life amid this crew, what craven was i to have my brain confused by only seven days' association, spent mainly in her company? heaven forgive me. but methinks i realised our condition--all that it might hereafter signify--with a keenness of insight, present and prophetic, which would be impossible in her whose knowledge of the sea was but a child's when she fell into vanderdecken's hands. "we must have patience, courage and hope, mr. fenton," she said, softly. "look at that starry jewel yonder," and she turned up her face to the cross that hung above the mizzen topmast-head, gleaming very gloriously in a lake of deep indigo betwixt two clouds. "it shines for me! and often have i looked up at it with full eyes and a prayer in my heart. it shines for you, too! it is the emblem of our redemption, and we must drink in faith that god will succour us from it." she continued to gaze at it, and there was sheen enough to enable me to see a tender smile upon her upturned face. how sweet did she then appear, fairer than the "evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars," as the poet wrote. i looked up to that sparkling cross and thought how strange it was that the sentence pronounced upon this ship should doom her to sail eternally over waters above which there nightly rises the lustrous symbol of compassion and mercy. "take my arm, my child; 'tis chilly work standing," said the deep voice of the captain. again had he come upon us unawares, but this time he found us silent, together gazing at the cross of stars. she withdrew her hand quickly from my arm and took his, showing wisdom in her promptness, as i was quick to see. then, being alone, i went to the quarter-deck and fell to walking briskly. for vanderdecken was right, the wind came bleak. chapter v. the death ship's forecastle. next morning was clear and sunny. i was up betimes, being always glad to get away from my cabin, in the which i needed all my long training at sea to qualify me to sleep, not only because of the rats and the noises in the hold, and those mystic fires in the timbers that never failed to send a shudder through me if i opened my eyes upon them in the darkness, but because of my bed, which was miserably hard and wretched in all ways, and in which i would lie down dressed, saving my boots and jacket, never knowing when i might not be obliged to spring on deck in a hurry, though i took care to refresh myself o' morn by going into the head, pulling off my shirt and sousing myself with a bucketfull of salt water--'twas an old canvas bucket, i remember--no man of the crew speaking to or noticing me. this morning being very fine, the first bright day that had broken since i had been in the ship, i thought, since it was early, an hour to breakfast, vanderdecken in his cabin and arents alone on the poop-deck with the man who steered, that i would look a little closely into the vessel, and ascertain if possible where and how the men slept, where they dressed their food and the like. but first i snatched a glance around to see if any sail was in sight. no! 'twas all dark-blue water meeting the clear sky in an unbroken girdle, that by holding its sapphire hue against the light azure of the heavens there, stood out with surprising sharpness. the swell left by the gale was not gone, but it came with a steady rhythmic flowing of folds from the north-west that seemed to soothe rather than to vex the ancient ship, and the heavings made the eastern sea-board a rich and dazzling spectacle, by catching the brilliant white sunshine on the polish of their rounded backs, and so carrying their burden of blinding radiance to the verge of the visible deep. the ship was under all the canvas she had. that studding-sails have been for ages in use we know on the authority of sir walter raleigh, in his writings on the improvements in ships since henry the eighth's days; yet i can answer that this death ship had no irons on her yards, nor could i anywhere see any spars that answered to the booms used for the spreading of those sails. however, even if she had been furnished with such canvas, this morning it would have been no use to her; for the breeze still hung, westerly and she was going close-hauled, steering something to the west of north and moving through the water at about three knots. i spied the corpulent figure of jans, the boatswain, forward of the fore-mast. he was standing with his arms folded, staring ahead. his posture somehow suggested a vacancy of mind, and you thought of him as looking into god knows what distance, with the unmeaningness you observe in the fixed gaze of a babe sucking. i could not say whether the decks had been washed down; they seemed damp, as if newly swabbed. one whom i supposed to be the ship's carpenter was sawing wood near the house in which were the live stock. two others, hard by him, sat upon a sail, stitching at it. there was a seaman in the fore-top, but what doing i could not see; little more than his head showed above the barricade. i walked forward to where the boatswain stood, and, on observing that he took no notice of me, i touched him lightly on the shoulder. he turned his round face, ghastly as death yet as fleshy and plump as life, and gazed at me. i felt nervous--it was dreadful to accost these conformations, which were neither men nor devils--but i was resolved to go through with the business i had on hand, impelled by the thought that if i was suffered to come off with my life from this experience there would be that to relate to the world beyond anything which seamen have told of the ocean life. i said to him, "good morning, herr jans. here, to be sure, is a fine sky with noble promise." "true, sir," he answered, seeming to step out of the mystery of his stillness and vacancy without effort. "she looks fairly up: but so tedious a nor'-wester should be followed by a southerly gale!" "heaven grant it!" cried i, gathering courage from his civility. "you will be glad to see old amsterdam again, no doubt!" "ay," said he, "i warrant you; and my wife, amana, too, and my daughter, tobina. ha! ha!" his laugh was like that of the parrot, mirthless; and not a wrinkle stirred upon his countenance to give reality to his shocking merriment. to come at what i wanted--for i did not wish vanderdecken to arrive and see me forward--i said "yes, meetings are made sweeter by a little delay. pardon me, heer: i am an englishman not well acquainted with the shipboard usages of the dutch. in the ship of which i was second mate, we had what is called a topgallant forecastle in which the crew slept----" he interrupted with a shake of the head. "i do not understand," said he. this was not strange, for as i did not know the dutch words, i called it topgallant forecastle in english. "they slept under a deck resembling the poop," said i. "ha!" he exclaimed. "where do your crew sleep?" "down there," he responded, pointing to a hatch answering to the forescuttle of these times. "is it a comfortable cabin?" said i. he made a face and spat behind his hand, which caused me to see that sailors in all times have been alike in the capacity of grumbling, and that even in this man, who by virtue of the age he had attained had long ceased to be human and was kept alive only by the curse it was his lot to share with the skipper, the instincts of the seaman still lived, a few sparks among blackened embers. "judge for yourself if you will," said he. "my last ship was the maagt van eukhuysen, and though her forecastle raised a mutiny among us for its badness, i tell you, mynheer, 'twas as punch is to stale cold water compared to this." he motioned me to descend, but i asked him to go first, for how was i to guess what would be my reception if the men saw me entering their abode unaccompanied? "very good," said he, and catching hold of the coaming he dropped his great figure through the hatch, and i followed. we descended by a ladder in perfect correspondence with the rest of the fittings of this ship--the hand-rails carved, and the steps a sort of grating--different, indeed, from the pieces of coarse, rough wood nailed to the bulkhead, which in these days form the road down through the forescuttle. the light of the heavens fell fair through the hatch, but seemed powerless to penetrate the gloom that lay around. i was blinded at first, and stood a moment under the hatch idly blinking and beholding nothing. then stepping out of the sphere of the daylight, there stole upon my sight the details of the place one by one, helped by the wan, sputtering and smoking flame of a lamp shaped like a coffee-pot, the waste or mesh coming out of the spout fed by what the nose readily determined to be slush. jans stood beside me. "can you see, mynheer?" said he. "ay, 'tis growing upon me by degrees," i replied. "master," exclaimed a hollow voice, proceeding from the darkest part of this forecastle, "if you could help me fill the bowl of a tobacco-pipe i should be grateful." very luckily i had the remains of what sailors term a prick of tobacco in my pocket, which prins when he dried my jacket had very honestly suffered to remain there. the piece had been so hard pressed in the making, and rendered so water-proof by the rum in it, that my falling overboard had left it perfectly sweet and fit for smoking. by a stingy and cautious use of the knife there was enough of it to give all hands a smoke. i pulled it out and handed it to jans to deliver to the man who had addressed me. jans smelt it and said "yes, it was tobacco, but how was it to be smoked?" i pulled out my knife, and stepping into the light under the hatch, put the tobacco upon one of the ladder-steps and fell to slicing or rather shaving it, and when i had cut enough to fill a pipe bowl i rolled up the shreds in my hands, and taking a sooty clay pipe from jans, charged it, and bade him light it at the lamp. he did so, speedily returning, smoking heartily, puffing out great clouds, and crying out, "oh, but 'tis good! 'tis good!" it is tiring work cutting up this kind of tobacco, and jans now understanding how it was done, took the knife and the tobacco and shred about an inch of it, there being in all between three and four inches. whilst this was doing i had leisure to gaze about me. no sooner had jans lighted his pipe, so that all could see he was smoking, than from several parts of that gloomy interior there slided a number of figures who quickly clustered around the ladder, over one of whose steps or treads the boatswain leaned, pipe in mouth, whilst he sliced and shaved. the daylight fell upon some of them, others were faintly to be seen in the dim illumination which the lustre, passing through the hatch, feebly spread. from rows of old hammocks, that died out in the gloom, these men had dropped, and mariners half-perished with hunger could not have exhibited more delirious eagerness for food than did these unhappy creatures for a pipeful of the tobacco jans was at work upon. a dismaller and wilder, nay, a more affrighting picture i defy the imagination to body forth. it was not only that many of these unhappy people were half-naked--most of them still swinging in their hammocks, when i descended--it was their corpse-like appearance, as though a grave-yard had disgorged its dead, who had come together in a group, quickened and urged by some hunger, lust or need common to the whole, and expressing in many varieties of countenance the same desire. all about jans they crowded, fifteen or twenty men; some thin, with their ribs showing, others with sturdy legs of the dutch kind, some nearly bald, some so hairy that their locks and beards flowed down their backs and chests, some dark with black eyes, others round-faced and blue-eyed; but every man of them looking as if he was newly risen, lazarus-like, from the tomb, as though he had burst the bondage of the coffin, and come into this forecastle dead yet living, his body formed of the earth of the grave, and his soul of the curse that kept him alive. i had particularly hoped to see some of them sleeping, wondering what appearance they presented in slumber; also whether such as they ever dreamed, and what sort of expressions their faces wore. but the place was too dark to have yielded this sight even had i been at liberty to peer into their hammocks. when my eyes grew used to the twilight of the slush-lamp and i could see plain, i found there was not much to whet curiosity. here and there stood a box or sea-chest. against the aged sides, hanging by nails or hooks, were coats, trowsers, oilskins, and the like, most of them differing in fashion, swaying with the heaving of the ship. some odds and ends of shoes and boots, a canvas bucket or two, a tall basket, in which were stowed the dishes and mugs the men eat and drank with, completed, with the hammocks overhead, all the furniture that i could distinguish of this melancholy, rat-gnawed, yea, and noisome forecastle. by this time jans was wearied of slicing the tobacco, and the fellow called meindert kryns was at work upon what remained of it. all who had pipes filled them, and i was surprised to find how well off they were in this respect, though my wonder ceased when i afterwards heard that amongst other articles of freight vanderdecken had met with in a derelict were cases of long clay pipes. it was both moving and diverting to watch these half-clad creatures smoking, their manner of holding the smoke in their mouths for the better tasting of it, the solemn joy with which they expelled the clouds; some in their hammocks with their naked legs over the edge; others on the chests, manifestly insensible to the chilly wind that blew down through the hatch. no man spoke. if aught of mind there was among them, it seemed to be devoted to keeping their pipe-bowls burning. jans stood leaning against the fore-mast, puffing at his pipe, his eyes directed into the gloom in the bows. that he had forgotten the errand that brought him below, that i had no more existence for him than would have been the case had i never fallen from the rail of the saracen, was clearly to be gathered from his strange rapt posture and air. i touched him again on the shoulder, and he turned his eyes upon me, but without starting. 'twas the easiest, nimblest way of slipping out of a condition of trance into intelligence and life that can be conceived. i wished to see all i dared ask to look at, and said, "where do you cook your food?" "i will show you," he answered, and walked to some distance abaft the forescuttle. i followed him painfully, for i could scarce see; indeed, here would have been total blackness to one fresh from the sunlight. there was a bulkhead with an opening on the larboard hand; we passed through it, and i found myself on a deck pretty well filled up at the after-end with coils of cable, casks, and so forth; a windward port was open, and through it came light enough to see by. in the middle of this deck was a sort of caboose, situated clear of the ropes and casks. 'twas, in short, a structure of stout scantling, open on either side, and fitted with brick-work contrived for a furnace and coppers for boiling. a man--the cook, or the cook's mate--his feet naked, his shanks clothed in breeches of a faded blue stuff, and his trunk in a woollen shirt--was at work boiling a kind of soup for the crew's breakfast. another man stood at a dresser, rolling paste. this fellow was a very short, corpulent person, with a neck so fat that a pillow of flesh lay under the back of his head. never in my time had i viewed a completer figure of a dutchman than this cook. you would have supposed that into this homely picture of boiling and pie-making there would have entered such an element of life and reality as was nowhere else to be found in that accurst ship. yet so little was this so, that i do not know that in all the time i had been in the braave i had beheld a more ghastly picture. it was the two men who made it so; the unreality of their realness, to comprehend which, if this phrase should sound foolishly, think upon the vision of an insane man, or upon some wondrous picture painted upon the eyes of the dying or opening upon the gaze of some enthusiast. the flames of the furnace shot a crimson glare upon the first of the two men i have described; he never turned his head to look at me, but went on stirring what was in the copper. the place had much of the furniture of one of our present cabooses or galleys. there was a kind of dresser and there were racks for holding dishes, an old brass timepiece that was as great a curiosity in its way as the clock in the cabin, a chair of the last century, a couple of wooden bellows, and such matters. i was moving, when the little, fat cook suddenly fell a-sniffing, and turning to jans, said, "is there tobacco at last?" "no," answered jans; "this heer had a piece which he has distributed. 'tis all gone. but there is a smoke left in this pipe; take it." he dried the sooty stem upon his sleeve, and handed it to the cook, who instantly began to puff, uttering one or two exclamations of pleasure, but with an unmoved countenance. "is there no tobacco on board?" said i, following jans into the forecastle. "the skipper has a small quantity, but there is none for the crew," he answered. "had your ship supplied us with a little stock 'twould have been a godsend; welcomer, sir, than the powder and shot you wantonly bestowed upon our boat." we were now in the forecastle, and this reference to the action of the terrified crew of the saracen, in the hearing of the seamen who overhung their hammocks, or squatted on their chests, smoking, alarmed me; so with a quickly uttered "good-morning" addressed to them all, i sprang up the ladder and gained the deck. chapter vi. we sight a ship. it was like coming out of a sepulchre to step from that forecastle on deck where the glorious sun was and the swaying shadows, and where the blue wind gushed in a soft breathing over the bulwark-rails, with weight enough in it to hold the canvas stirless, and to raise a gentle hissing alongside like the seething of champagne. i spied vanderdecken on the poop and near him imogene, so i hastened aft to greet the girl and salute the great bearded figure that nobly towered beside her. she looked fragrant and sweet as a white rose in the dewy morn, wore a straw hat turned up on one side and looped to stay there with a parti-coloured rosette, and though this riband was faded with age and the straw yellow and dull through keeping, the gear did suit her beauty most divinely, and i could have knelt and kissed her hand, so complete a princess did she appear in the royal perfections of her countenance and shape. to turn from the sparkle of her violet eye, the rosiness of her lip, the life that teemed in the expression of her face, like a blushing light shining through fragile porcelain, to turn from her to the great silent figure near her, with piercing gaze directed over the taffrail, his beard trembling to the down-rush of air from the mizzen, was to obtain a proper contrast to enable you to realise in the aspect of that amazing person the terrible conditions of his existence and the enormous significance of his sentence. with a smile of pleasure at the sight of me, imogene bade me good-morning, saying, "i am before you for the first time since you have been in the ship." "i was out of my cabin half-an-hour ago, perhaps longer," said i. "what, think you, i have been doing? exploring the sailors' quarters and inspecting the kitchen." and i tossed up my hands and turned up my eyes that she might guess what i thought of those places. then meeting vanderdecken's gaze, which he had brought to bear upon me with a frowning roll of the eyes, i took off my hat, giving him a bow. he greeted me in his imperious stormy way, and asked me what i thought of his ship. i replied, "she is a very fine vessel, sir." "did they lift the hatches to show the cargo to you?" he exclaimed. i answered smartly, "no," perceiving that he was aware i had been below in the fore-part. "how does my forecastle show to your english prejudice?" he said. "oh, mynheer!" said i, smiling, with a look at imogene, whose eyes were fixed in the quarter over the stern into which vanderdecken had been staring, "so far from englishmen being prejudiced, at all events, in naval matters, we are continually taking ideas from other nations, particularly from the french, whose ships of war we imitate and admire. perhaps," said i, "that is one of the reasons why we are incessantly capturing the vessels of that nation." but the conceit was lost, because this man had flourished before we had become the terror of the french that our admirals have since made the english flag to be. imogene cried out in dutch, "do you know, mr. fenton, that there is a sail in sight?" my heart gave a bound, and following the indication of her ivory-white forefinger, which pointed directly astern, i saw the tiny gleam of what was unquestionably a ship's canvas, resembling the curved tip of a gull's wing. "ay, to be sure, yonder's a sail!" i exclaimed, after keeping my eyes fixed upon it a while to make sure, and i added in dutch, "which way, madam, does the captain say she is steering?" "directly after us," she replied. "judge for yourself, sir," said vanderdecken, motioning with his hand toward a telescope that stood against the deck-house. it was the ancient, heavy tube i had observed in his cabin. i picked it up, rested it upon the rail--it was too weighty for the support of my left hand--and worked away with it at the sail astern. it was a feeble old glass, magnifying, i should suppose, to the proportion of a crown to a groat. in fact i could see as well with the naked eye. it was vanderdecken's telescope, however, and a curiosity, and still feigning to view the sail, i secretly ran my eye over the tubes, noticing, in very faint letters, the words, "cornelius van der decken, amsterdam, ," graved in flowing characters upon the large tube. "she is heading after us, you think, mynheer?" said vanderdecken as i rose. "i could not say, sir. has she grown since you first observed her?" "yes." he took the glass and levelled it very easily, and i met imogene's gaze as she glanced from him to me, as though she was sure i could not but admire the massive, manly figure of that man, drawn to his full height, and in such a posture as one would love to see him painted in. "she is certainly steering our course," said he, speaking with his eye at the tube, "i hope she may not prove an english man-of-war. who can tell? if a merchantman, be her nationality what it may, we'll speak her for tobacco, for that's a commodity we must have." i looked earnestly and with a face flushed with hope at imogene; but she glanced away from me to the sail, signalling to me by this action in a manner unmistakable, to be wary. vanderdecken put down the glass, cast a look aloft at the set of his canvas and the trim of his yards, and then called to arents to heave the log. some seamen came aft, in response to the second mate's call, and, bringing out a reel and sand-glass from the deck-house, measured the speed of the ship through the water, precisely as we at this day do, so ancient is this simple device of telling a ship's speed of passage through the water by paying out a line marked with knots to the running of sand! i heard arents say that the vessel was going three knots and a half. "at that rate," said i to imogene, whilst vanderdecken remained aft, watching in a soulless manner the automaton-like motions of the men engaged in hauling the line in and reeling it up, "that vessel yonder, if she be actually heading our way, will soon overhaul us." "mr. fenton," said she, with subdued energy in her soft voice, "i earnestly pray you, neither by word, look or sign to give captain vanderdecken the least reason to suspect that you mean to escape from his ship and rescue me whenever the chance shall offer. i will tell you why i say this: just now he spoke of you to me, and said if an opportunity offered he should put you on board any vessel that would receive you, no matter where she was bound to, and then he asked what you and i chiefly talked about. there was more sternness in his manner than ever i recollect in him when addressing me." "if i thought him capable of human emotions," said i, "i should reckon him jealous." "but he _has_ human emotions--he loves his wife and children," she replied. "ay, but who is to know that that love is not left to linger in him as a part of his curse?" said i. "by which i mean, if he was not suffered to remember his wife and children and love them, he might not show himself very eager to get round the cape. possibly he wants to get rid of me, not because he is jealous, not because he dislikes me as a man, but because that malignant baboon, van vogelaar, may have been speaking against me, putting fears into his head touching his treasure, and working upon his duty as a hollander--a compatriot of de ruyter, god help him--to hate me as an englishman." "but he loves me too, mr. fenton," said she. "as a father might," said i, not liking this, yet amused by her sweet tenaciousness. "yes, as a father; but it shows he has capacity for other emotions outside those which you deem necessary for the duration of the sentence." "i ought to believe so if he hates me," said i, looking his way and observing that he had turned his back upon us and was watching the sail astern. "but be all this as it will, you shall find me as careful as you can desire." "if," said she, plaintively, "he should become even faintly suspicious of your intentions, he might set you ashore, should we not meet with a ship to receive you, and then what would become of you and what would become of me, mr. fenton?" "have no fear," said i; "he shall discover nothing in me to make him suspicious. as to his setting me ashore, that he could do, and whether i should be able to outwit him in such a manoeuvre, i cannot tell; but in no other way could he get rid of me, unless by throwing me overboard." "he would not do that," she exclaimed, shaking her head; "nor do i think he would force you from this ship if he could find no ground for distrust. but something affecting you has worried his mind, i am certain, or he would not have declared his intention to send you to another vessel. he believes he is going straight home. why, then, should he not be willing to carry you? maybe he heard from arents that you were below exploring the ship. oh, mr. fenton, be cautious! if not for your own sake, then for mine!" she involuntarily brought her little hands together into a posture of prayer with the earnestness of her entreaty, and her warmth flowed rosily to her cheeks, so that, though she spoke low, her manner was impassioned, and i saw how her dear heart was set upon my delivering her, and how great was her terror lest my thoughtlessness should end in procuring our separation. however, i had no time to then reassure her, though i resolved henceforth to walk with extraordinary circumspection, seeing that the people i had fallen amongst were utterly unintelligible to me, being so composite in their dead-aliveness that it was impossible to come at their motives and feelings, if they possessed any resembling ours. i say i had not time to reassure her, for prins arrived to report breakfast, which brought vanderdecken to us. little was said at table, but that little was quite enough to make me understand the wisdom of imogene's fears, and to perceive that if i did not check my curiosity to inspect the ship so as to be able to deliver a true account of this strange and fearful fabric, i stood to lose imogene the chance of escape which my presence in the vessel provided her with. no matter which of the two mates had the watch on deck, van vogelaar always sat down to meals first, arents following. he was beside me this morning as usual, coming fresh from his cabin; and when we were seated, vanderdecken told him there was a ship astern. "how heading, skipper?" "as we go, without doubt. she hath grown swiftly since first sighted, yet hangs steady in the same quarter." "let her hoist any colours but those of this gentleman's country!" said van vogelaar, with an ugly sneer. "should that happen, captain, will you fight her?" i asked, quietly. "if she be a ship of war--no; for what are our defences against the culverins and demi-culverins of your ships, and how shall we match perhaps four hundred sailors with our slender company?" replied vanderdecken, with an evil glitter in his eyes, and grasping his beard as his custom was when wrathful thoughts surged in him. "she may prove a harmless merchantman--perhaps a sturdy hollander--that will give you plenty of tobacco for a little of your silver," said imogene, striking in with her sweet smile, and melodious voice, like a sunbeam upon turbulent waters. "if you are in doubt why not shift your helm, gentlemen?" said i. "ah, skipper!" cried van vogelaar, sardonically, "we have an adviser here. it is fit that a dutch ship should be served by an english pilot!" i held my peace. at this moment the clock struck, and the parrot, as though some fiend was inside her green bosom prompting her to breed trouble, cried out "wyn zyn al verdomd!" with fierce energy, severely clawing her wires, and exhibiting more agitation than seems possible in a fowl of naturally dull and leaden motions. "i believe she speaks the truth," exclaimed van vogelaar, turning his face towards the cage. "the parrot hath been known to possess a witch-like capacity of forecasting and divining." "oh, but you know, heer, that she had that sentence by heart when the captain bought her," said imogene, with a mixed air of distress and petulance in her face. "i know, madam," he replied, "that yonder bird never spoke those words with such energy as she now puts into them before this gentleman arrived." vanderdecken looked at him and then at me, but did not speak. "what do you suspect from the increased energy of the bird's language?" said i, fixing my eyes upon the mate. he would not meet my gaze, but answered with his eyes upon his plate, "what is your motive in examining this ship, sir?" "the harmless curiosity of a sailor," i replied. he was about to speak, but i lifted my hand, meaning to entreat silence whilst i continued, but he, mistaking the gesture for a threat, shrank very abjectly from his seat, proving himself a timorous, cowardly fellow, and the more to be feared, perhaps, for being so. "captain vanderdecken," said i, keeping my hand lifted, that he and his mate might understand i intended no menace, "i know not what base and degrading charges herr van vogelaar would insinuate. i am an honest man and mean well, and, sir, add to that the gratitude of one whose life you have preserved. you were pleased, on one occasion, to speak kindly of my countrymen, and regret that feud should ever exist between two nations whose genius seems to have a common root. i trust that your sympathy with britain will cause you to turn a deaf ear to the unwarrantable hints against my honour as an english seaman, dropped by your first mate." to this speech vanderdecken made no reply; indeed, i would not like to swear that he had heeded so much as a syllable of it. van vogelaar resumed the posture on his seat from which he had started on my raising my hand and went on with his meal. shortly after this imogene left the table and entered her cabin, on which, weary of the sullen and malignant company of the mate, and the ghostly silence and fiery eyes of captain vanderdecken, i rose, bowed to the skipper, and went on deck. i walked right aft, past the helmsman, and stood gazing with a most passionate yearning and wistfulness at the sail astern. the stranger had not greatly grown during the time we had passed below, but her enlargement was marked enough to make me guess that she was overhauling us hand over fist, as sailors say, and i reckoned that if the wind held she would be within gunshot by three or four of the clock this afternoon. i went for vanderdecken's glass and examined her again; the lenses imparted an atmospheric sharpness and pellucidity of outline which showed plainly enough the royals and topgallant-sails of apparently a large ship slightly leaning from the wind. i could not persuade myself that she was "reaching," for though our yards were as sharply braced as they would lie, the stranger, if she were close hauled, could have luffed up three or four more points, but as she held her place it was certain she was making a free wind and coming along with her yards braced-in somewhat. therefore she was not bound to the westwards, and if for the indian ocean, what need had she to be heading due north? i put down the glass, but the yearning that rose within me at the sight of the vessel ceased when i thought of imogene. suppose that ship should prove the instrument of separating me from her! i had talked big for the sake of comforting her, of fearing nothing from vanderdecken save being set ashore or tossed overboard, for i counted upon any and all ships we met refusing to receive me if they found out that this ancient fabric was the flying dutchman. but suppose vanderdecken should heave me overboard on nearing a vessel, leaving it to her people to succour me if they chose? these were the fancies which subdued in me the eager wistfulness raised by yonder gleaming wing of canvas, whitening like a mounting star upon the blue edge of the ocean in the south. lost in thought, i continued gazing until presently i grew sensible of the presence of someone standing close beside me. it was imogene. on the weather quarter was van vogelaar surveying the sail with folded arms and stooped head. his face wore a malignant expression, and in his stirlessness he resembled an effigy, wrought with exquisite skill to a marvellous imitation of apparel and shape. "where is the captain?" i asked. "he is smoking in the cabin," imogene answered. "yonder rascal is evidently my enemy," said i. "all will be well if you show no curiosity," she replied, softly. "do you not remember that i cautioned you at the very beginning? my belief is that the mate is mad you should know of the treasure in this ship, and will be eager to get rid of you lest you should contrive to possess it." "but how?" "by acquainting the master of the ship you are transferred to with the wealth in this vessel. add to this fear--for he has a share in all they recover from wrecks, and in a portion of the cargo--his hatred of you for your men firing at him." "i begin to see," said i, "that there are several strokes of human nature still to be witnessed among these unhappy wretches, spite of their monstrous age, the frightfulness of the curse they are under, and their being men who are alive in death--corpses reflecting vitality just as the dead moon shines. but needs must where the devil drives; speculating will not serve; we must wait." i watched her whilst she looked at the sail in our wake; emotion darkened and lightened in the violet of her eyes as the blue folds of heaven seem to deepen and brighten with the breathings of the wind; through her delicate lips her rose-sweet breath came and went swiftly. she started, looked at van vogelaar, aloft at the canvas, round the deck, with a sharp tremble running through her light form, and cried out with an hysteric swiftness, and in a voice full of tears, "you will not leave me to this wretched fate, mr. fenton! you will not leave me in this dreadful ship!" i grasped her hand. "i swear before the majesty of that offended god whose eye is on this ship as we thus stand, that if i am forced to leave you it will be at the cost of my life!" chapter vii. we watch the ship approach us. we stood in silence for some moments, hand in hand; then finding van vogelaar furtively watching us, i quitted her side; at the same moment vanderdecken came on deck. i went to the foremost end of the poop and there stayed, leaning against the bulwark, my mind very full of thought. though i had been in this vessel a week, yet now, as on many occasions, i found myself conceiving it to be a thing incredible that this craft should be the famous death ship of tradition, the talk and terror of the mariner's forecastle; and such a feeling of mystification thickened my brains that a sudden horror stung me from head to foot with the sensation the nervous are possessed with, when, in a sudden panic, they fear they are going out of their minds. but, by keeping my eyes fixed on imogene, i succeeded ere long in mastering this terrible emotion, even to the extent of taking a cheerful view of my situation; first, by considering that, for all i knew, i had been led by the divine hand to this ship for the purpose of rescuing the lovely girl from a fate more dismal and shocking than tongue could utter or imagination invent; and next, by reflecting that if god spared my life so that i could relate what i had seen, i should be famous among sailors as the only seaman that had ever been on board the phantom ship, as she is foolishly styled, eaten with her commander, mixed with her crew, beheld the discipline of her, and looked narrowly into all circumstances of her inner or hidden life. it seemed to me incredible that any vessel could encounter her and not guess what she was, though, of course, i believed what imogene had said, that now and again an unsuspicious ship would traffic with vanderdecken in such commodities as the one wanted or the other had. if her character was expressed at night by the fiery crawlings like red-hot wire upon her, in the daytime she discovered her nature by signs not indeed so wild and terrifying, but to the full as significant in a sailor's eyes. supposing her to have been built at hoorn, in --that date, i believe, would represent her birth--there would be nothing in the mere antiquity of her hull, or even in the shape of it, to convict her as vanderdecken's ship; because the difference between the bodies and forms of ships of the time in which she was built and those of many vessels yet afloat and actively employed, would not be so great as to let the mariner know what she was. for instance, there was a vessel trading in my time between strangford and whitehaven that was an hundred and thirty years old. she was called the three sisters, and the master was one donnan; she was also known by the name of the port-a-ferry frigate. her burthen was thirty-six tons, and 'twas positively known she was employed at the siege of londonderry, in . now, here was a craft once beheld by me, who am writing this, that was nearly as ancient as the flying dutchman. she was often to be met coasting, and, in consequence of her having been the first vessel that ever entered the old dock at liverpool, was ever after made free of all port charges. yet, no sailor shrank affrighted from her, no grave-yard fires lived in her timbers; when encountered at sea she was regarded as a venerable piece of marine architecture, and that was all. but why? because her rig had been changed. she had been a ship; when i knew her she was a brigantine. aloft she had been made to keep pace with all improvements. then her hull was carefully preserved with paint, her voyages were short, and she was constantly being renewed and in divers ways made good. but this death ship was now as she had been in when she set sail from batavia for her homeward passage. aloft she was untouched--that is, in respect of her original aspect, if i save the varying thickness of her standing gear, which would not be observable at a short distance. for a century and a half, when i met her, had she been washing about in this ocean off the cape of storms, and the exposure had rotted her through and kindled the glow of deadwood in every pore. it might be that the curse which held her crew living was not yet quick in her. by which i mean that she had not yet come to that condition of decay which would correspond in a ship to the death of a human being, so that the repairs, careening, calking and the like which her men found necessary for her might be found needful for some years yet, when she would become as her crew were--dead in time but staunch and enduring so long as the curse should be in force. these were the speculations of a troubled and bewildered mind. i glanced at the sail astern and guessed it would not be long before that shining pillar of canvas swept the hull beneath it on to the delicate azure that went trembling to the heavens there. prins had brought a chair for imogene and she sat near the tiller. vanderdecken stood beside her, watching the distant ship. van vogelaar, who had the watch, stumped the weather side of the poop, often coming abreast of where i stood to leeward, and occasionally sending a scowling furtive glance my way. it was not my policy to intrude. nay, the rising of that vessel in our wake furnished a particular emphasis to imogene's advice to me, for if haply i should irritate vanderdecken by some unwise remark or indiscreet behaviour, and the ship should turn out an englishman and act in some such fashion as did the saracen, my life might have to pay for the incivility of my countrymen. i had the yearning of the whole ship's company in me for a pipe of tobacco, but i had parted with all i owned--which now vexed me, for my generosity had brought me no particular kindness from the men--and had not the courage to solicit a whiff or two from the skipper's little store. sometimes imogene would turn her head as if to view the ship or glance at the sea, but in reality to mark if i was still on deck, but i could not discover in her way of doing this the slightest hint that i should approach her. occasionally vanderdecken addressed her, often he would stand apparently wrapped in thought, heeding nothing but the vessel astern, if one might suppose so from his eyes being bent thitherwards. from time to time van vogelaar picked up the glass and levelled it at the ship, and then put it down with an air of angry impatience--though you found the motion suggested rather than showed as an actually definable thing the counterfeit passion displayed in the gestures and carriage of an automaton. leaning against the rail of the bulwarks as high as my shoulder-blades, i quietly waited for what was to come, yet with a mind lively with curiosity and expectations. what would vanderdecken do? what colours would the stranger show? how would she behave? what part might i have to take in whatever was to happen? to be sure the stranger would not be up with us for some while yet, but since breakfast the breeze had slightly freshened, and by the rapid enlargement of those shining heights astern you knew that the wind had but to gather a little more weight to swiftly swirl yonder nimble craft up to within musket-shot of this cumbrous ancient fabric. i looked over the rail, watching the sickly-coloured side slipping sluggishly through the liquid transparent blue, marbled sometimes by veins and patches of foam, flung with a sullen indifference of energy from the hewing cutwater, on the top of which there projected a great beak, where yet lingered the remains of a figure-head that i had some time before made out to represent an hercules, frowning down upon the sea with uplifted arms, as though in the act of smiting with a club. it was easy to guess that this ship had kept the seas for some months since careening by observing the shell-fish below the water-line, and the strings of black and green weed she lifted with every roll. but, uncouth as was the fabric, gaunt as her aged furniture made her decks appear, inconvenient and ugly as was her rig, exhibiting a hundred signs of the primitiveness in naval construction of the age to which she belonged, yet, when i lifted my eyes from the water to survey her, 'twas not without a sentiment of veneration beyond the power of the horror the supernaturalism of her and her crew raised in me to correct. for was it not by such ships as this that the great and opulent islands and continents of the world had been discovered and laid open as theatres for posterity to act dazzling parts in? was it not with such ships as this that battles were fought, the courage, audacity, skill and fierce determination exhibited in which many latter conflicts may, indeed, parallel, but never in one single instance surpass? was it not by such ships as this that the great protector raised the name of britain to such a height as exceeds all we read of in the history of ancient or modern nations? what braver admirals, more skilful soldiers, more valiant captains, stouter-hearted mariners, have flourished than those whose cannon flamed in thunder from the sides of such ships as this? ay, 'twas a structure to dream in when the soul could let slip the dread which the thought of the curse and the appearance of the crew inspired; a wizard to hearken back the imagination to olden times and show the sun sparkling, and the heavens blue, and the sea azure in pictures, not more dead, and not less vital either, than the company who manned her, who were beings with loving hearts and blood-fed skins in that distant age into which she drove fancy, romancing and recreating. the time passed; at the hour of eleven, or thereabouts the hull of the ship astern was visible upon the water-line. the breeze had freshened, and the long heave of the swell left by the gale was whipped into wrinkles, which melted into a creamy sparkling as they ran. under the sun, upon our starboard bow, the ocean was kindled into glory; through the trembling splendour the blue of the sea surged up in fluctuating veins, and the conflict of the sapphire dye welling up into the liquid dazzle, where it showed an instant, ere being overwhelmed by the blaze on the water, was a spectacle of beauty worthy of life-long remembrance. elsewhere, the crisped plain of the ocean stretched darker than the heavens, under which were many clouds, moving with full white bosoms like the sails of ships, carrying tinted shinings resembling wind-galls, or fragments of solar rainbows, upon their shoulders or skirts, as they happened to offer them to the sun. by this time you felt the stirring of curiosity throughout the ship. whatever jobs the crew had been put to they now neglected, that they might hang over the sides or stand upon the rail to watch and study the ship astern of us. many had an avidity in their stare that could not have been matched by the looks of famine-stricken creatures. whether they were visited by some dim sense or perception of their frightful lot and yearned, out of this weak emotion, for the ship in pursuit, albeit they might not have been able to make their wishes intelligible to their own understandings, god knoweth. 'twas moving to see them; one with the sharp of his hand to his forehead, another fixedly gazing out of a tangle of grey hair, a third showing fat and ghastly to the sunlight, a fourth with black eyes charged with the slate-coloured patches of blindness, straining his imperfect gaze under a bald brow, corrugated into lines as hard as iron. vanderdecken had left imogene and stood on the weather quarter with the mate. the girl being alone, i walked aft to her and said in english, feigning to speak of the weather by looking aloft as i spoke, "i have held aloof long enough, i think. he will not object if i join you now?" "no--his head is full of that ship yonder," she replied. "for my part i am as weary of sitting as you must be of standing. let us walk a little. he has never yet objected to our conversing. why should he do so now?" so saying she rose. her sheer weariness of being alone, or of talking to vanderdecken, was too much for her policy of caution. we fell to quietly pacing the poop deck to leeward, and with a most keen and exquisite delight i could taste in her manner the gladness our being together filled her with, and foresee the spirit of defiance to danger and risks that would grow in her with the growth of our love. no notice was taken of us. the eyes and thoughts of all were directed to the ship. from time to time vanderdecken or van vogelaar would inspect her through the glass. presently antony arents and jans, the boatswain, joined them, and the four conversed as though the captain had called a council. "she is picking us up very fast," said i to imogene, whilst we stood awhile looking at the vessel. "i should not like to swear to her nationality; but that she is an armed ship, whether french, or dutch, or english, is as certain as that she has amazingly lively heels." "how white her sails are, and how high they rise!" exclaimed imogene. "she leans more sharply than we." "ay," said i, "she shows twice her number of cloths. is it not astonishing," i continued, softening my voice, "that vanderdecken, and his mates and men, should not guess that there is something very wrong with them, from the mere contrast of such beautifully cut and towering canvas as that yonder with the scanty, storm-darkened rags of sails under which this groaning old hull is driven along?" "yes, at least to you and me, who have the faculty of appreciating contrasts. but think of them as deficient in all qualities but those which are necessary for the execution of the sentence. then their heedlessness is that of a blind man, who remains insensible to the pointing of your finger to the object you speak to him about." "would to god you and i were quit of it all," said i. "we must pray for help, and hope for it too!" she answered, with a swift glance at me, that for a breathless moment carried the violet beauty and shining depths of her eyes fair to mine. an instant's meeting of our gaze only! yet i could see her heart in that rapid, fearless, trustful look, as the depth of the heavens is revealed by a flash of summer lightning. suddenly vanderdecken gave orders for the ensign to be hoisted. the boatswain entered the little house, and returned with the flag which he bent on to the halliards rove at the mizzen topmast-head. the colours mounted slowly to his mechanical pulling, and they were worthy indeed of the dead-and-alive hand that hoisted them, being as ragged and attenuated with age as any banner hung high in the dusty gloom of a cathedral. but the flag was distinguishable as the hollander's ensign, as you saw when it crazily streamed out its fabric, that was so thin in places, you thought you spied the sky through it. one should say it was a flag seldom flown on board the dutchman, to judge from the manner in which the crew cast their eyes up at it, never a one of them smiling, indeed, though here and there under the death-pallor there lay a sort of crumpling of the flesh, as of a grin. 'twas a flag to drive thoughts of home deep into them, and now and again i would catch one muttering to another behind his hand, whilst the most of them continued to steadfastly regard the ensign for many minutes after jans had mastheaded it, as though they fancied home could not be far distant with that flag telling of it. chapter viii. the centaur flies from us. now the dutch flag had not been flying twenty minutes when, my sight being keen, i thought i could perceive something resembling a colour at the fore-royal masthead of the ship. i asked imogene if she saw it. she answered "no." i said nothing, not being sure myself, and was unwilling to intrude upon the four men standing to windward by asking for the telescope. on board our ship they had set the sprit-topsail, and the forward part of the dull, time-eaten, rugged old vessel resembled a chinese kite. she was doing her best; but let her splutter as she would 'twas for all the world like the sailing of a beer-barrel with a mast steeped in the bunghole. and this, thought i, was the vessel that gave the slip to the frigate belonging to sir george ascue's squadron! the wake she made was short, broad and oily--a square, fat, glistening surface of about her own length--not greatly exceeding the smoothness she would leave aweather if drifting dead to leeward under bare poles; different indeed from that suggestion of comet-like speed which you find in the fleecy swirl of a line of foaming waters boiling out from the metalled run of a fleet cruiser, and rising and falling and fading into dim distance like a path of snow along a hilly land. on board yonder ship they would have perspective glasses of a power very different from the flat lenses in vanderdecken's tubes; and since by this time it was certain they had us large in their telescopes, what would they be thinking of our huge, old-fashioned tops, fitter for the bowmen and musqueteers of ferdinand magellan and drake than for the small-armsmen of even the days of the commonwealth, of the antique cut of our canvas and the wild and disordered appearance its patches and colour submitted, of the grisly aspect of the wave-worn, storm-swept hull, of the peaked shape and narrowness of our stern, telling of times long vanished, as do the covers of an old book or the arches in an ancient church? imogene and i continued our walk up and down, talking of many things, chiefly of england, whereof i gave her as much news, down to the time of the sailing of the saracen, as i carried in my memory, until, presently coming abreast of the group of four, still on the weather quarter, every man of whom, turn and turn about, had been working away with the telescope at the ship, vanderdecken called me by name and stepped over to us with the glass in his hand. "your sight is younger than ours, mynheer," said he, motioning towards jans and the two mates. "what flag do you make yonder vessel to be flying at her fore-topgallant masthead?" i took the glass and pointed it, kneeling to rest it as before, and the instant the stranger came within the lenses i beheld britannia's glorious blood-red st. george's cross blowing out--a great white flag betwixt the fore-royal yard and the truck that rose high above. pretending to require time to make sure, i lingered to gather, if possible, the character of the ship. from the cut of her sails, the saucy, admirable set of them, the bigness of the topsails, the hungry yearning for us i seemed to find in the bellying of the studding-sails she had thrown out, it would have been impossible for a nautical eye to mistake her for anything but a state ship, though of what rate i could not yet guess. there was a refraction that threw her up somewhat, and in the glass she looked to be swelling after us in a bed of liquid boiling silver, with a thin void of trembling blue between the whiteness and the sea-line. i rose and said, "the colour she shows is english." vanderdecken turned savagely towards the others and cried, "english!" arents let fly an oath; jans struck his thigh heavily with his open hand; van vogelaar, scowling at me, cried, "are you sure, sir?" "i am sure of the flag," said i; "but she may prove a frenchman for all i know." vanderdecken clasped his arms tightly upon his breast and sank into thought, with the fire in his eyes levelled at the coming ship. "see there, gentlemen!" i exclaimed. "a gun!" bright as the morning was i had marked a rusty red spark wink in the bow of the vessel like a flash of sunshine from polished copper; a little white ball blew away to leeward expanding as it fled. an instant after, just such another cloudy puff swept into the jibs and drove out in a gleaming trail or two. presently the reports reached our ears in two dull thuds, one after the other. vanderdecken stared aloft at his canvas, then over the side, and joined the others. my excitement was intense; i could scarce contain myself. i knew there was a british squadron at the cape, and 'twas possible that fellow there might be on a reconnoitring or cruising errand. "you are sure she is english?" imogene whispered. "she is a man-of-war; she is flying our flag. i don't doubt she is english," i replied. the girl drew a long tremulous breath, and her arm touching mine--so close together we stood--i felt a shiver run through her. "you are not alarmed, imogene?" i exclaimed, giving her her christian name for the first time, and finding a lover's sweetness and delight in the mere uttering of it. she coloured very faintly and cast her gaze upon the deck. "what is going to happen?" she whispered. "will they send you on board that ship--keeping me?" "no! they'll not do that. if she be an englishman and has balls to feed her cannon with----" i cried, raising my voice unconsciously. "hush!" she cried, "van vogelaar watches us." we were silent for a space that the attention i had challenged should be again given to the ship. during the pause i thought to myself, "but can her guns be of use? how much hulling and wounding should go to the destruction of a vessel that has been rendered imperishable by the curse of heaven? what injury could musket and pistol, could cutlass and hand-grenades deal men to whom death has ceased to be, who have outlived time and are owned by eternity?" vanderdecken, who had been taking short turns upon the deck with heated strides, stopped afresh to inspect the ship, and as he did so another flash broke from her weather-bow, and the smoke went from her in a curl. the skipper looked at the others. "she has the wind of us and sails three feet to our one. let the mainsail be hauled up and the topsail brought to the mast. if she be the enemy her flag denotes, her temper will not be sweetened by a long pursuit of which the issue is clear." van vogelaar, scowling venomously, seemed to hang in the wind, on which vanderdecken looked at him with an expression of face incredibly fierce and terrible. the posture of his giant figure, his half-lifted hand, the slight forward inclination of his head as if he would blast his man with the lightning of his eyes--it was like seeing some marvellous personification of human wrath; and i whispered quickly into imogene's ear, "that will be how he appeared when he defied his god!" it was as if he could not speak for rage. and swiftly was he understood. in a breath jans was rolling forward, calling to the men, arents was hastening to his station on the quarter-deck, and van vogelaar was slinking to the foremost end of the poop. the crew, to the several cries that broke from the mates and boatswain, dropped from rail and ratline, where they had been standing staring at the pursuing craft, and in ghastly silence, without exhibition of concern or impatience, fell to hauling upon the clew-garnets and backing the yards on the main. so weak was the ship's progress that the bringing of the canvas to the mast immediately stopped her way, and she lay as dead as a buoy upon the heave of the sea. this done, the crew went to the weather side, whence, as they rightly supposed, they would best view the approaching vessel. jans held to the forecastle, arents to the quarter-deck, and the mate hung sullen in the shadows cast by the mizzen-shrouds upon the planks. my heart beat as quickly as a baby's. i could not imagine what was to happen. would yonder man-of-war, supposing her british, take possession of the braave?--that is, could she? english powder, with earthquake power, has thrown up a mighty mountain of wonders; but could it, with its crimson glare, thunder down the curse by and in which, this ship continued to sail and these miserable men continued to live? i shuddered at the impiety of the thought, yet what ending of this chase was to be conjectured if it were not capture? vanderdecken, on the weather quarter, watched the ship in his trance-like fashion. how majestic, how unearthly, too, he looked against the blue beyond, his beard stirring and waving like smoke in a faintly moving atmosphere to the blowing of the wind! he wore the aspect of a fallen god, with the fires of hell glittering in his eyes and the passions of the damned surging dark from his soul to his face. imogene and i had insensibly gained the lee-quarter, and our whispers were driven seawards from him by the breeze. "how will this end?" i asked my sweet companion. "if there be potency in the curse this ship cannot be captured." she answered: "i cannot guess; i have not known such a thing as this to happen before." "suppose they send a prize crew on board--the sentence will not permit of her navigation beyond agulhas--there is not a hawser in all the world stout enough to tow this ship round the cape. as it is, is not yonder vessel doomed by her chasing us, by her resolution to speak us?" there was a deep stillness fore and aft. no human voice broke the silence. you heard but the purring of the surges frothing against our sides, the flap of a sail to the regular roll of the fabric, a groan from the heart of her, the soft shock of the sudden hit of a billow. nothing more. the silence of the unmeasurable deep grew into a distinct sense undisturbed by the gentle universal hissing that went up out of it. the sails of the oncoming ship shone to the gushing of the sunlight like radiant leaning columns of a porphyritic tincture breaking into moonlike alabaster with the escape of the shadows to the sunward stare of the cloths. bland as the fairy glory of the full moon floating in a sea of ethereal indigo was the shining of those lustrous bosoms, each course and topsail tremulous with the play of the golden fringe of reef-points, and delicate beyond language was the pencilled shadowings at the foot of the rounded cloths. like cloud upon cloud those sails soared to the dainty little royals, above the foremost of which there blew britannia's glorious flag, the blood-red cross of st. george upon a field white as the foam that boiled to as high as the hawse pipes with the churning of the shearing cutwater storming like a meteor through the blue. oh, she was english! you felt the blood of her country hot in her with the sight of her flag that was like a crown upon an hereditary brow, making her queen of the dominion of the sea, roll where it would! she approached us like a roll of smoke, and the wash of the froth along her black and glossy bends threw out the mouths of her single tier of cannon. she was apparently a thirty-eight-gun ship, and as she drew up, with a luffing helm that brought the after-yard-arms stealing out past the silky swells of the sails on the fore, you spied the glitter and flash of the gold-coloured figure-head, a lion, with its paw upon britannia's shield. when she was within a mile of us she hauled down her studding-sails, clewed up her royals and mizzen topgallant sail, and drove quietly along upon our weather-quarter, still heeling as though she would have us note how lustrous was the copper, whose brightness rose to the water-line, and what finish that ruddy sheathing, colouring the snow of the blue water leaping along it with a streaking as of purple sunshine, gave to her charms. all this while, the master, mates and crew of the death ship were as mute as though they lay in their coffins. vanderdecken leaned upon his hand on the rail above the quarter-gallery, and the motion which the heave of the ship gave to his giant form by the sweeping of it up and down the heavens at the horizon emphasised his own absolute motionlessness. nevertheless, his gaze was rooted in the ship, and the brightening of the angry sparkle in them to the nearing of the man-of-war was a never-to-be-forgotten sight. "how is this going to end?" i whispered to imogene. "is it possible that they are still unable to guess the character of our vessel?" the frigate had drawn close enough to enable us to make out the glint of buttons and epaulets on the quarter-deck, the uniform of marines on the forecastle, and the heads of seamen standing by the braces or at the guns along the decks. she now hauled up her mainsail but without backing her topsail, luffed so as to shake the way out of her, giving us, as she did so, an oblique view of her stern very richly ornamented, the glass of the windows flashing, and the blue swell brimming to her name in large characters, "centaur." "ship ahoy!" came thundering down through the trumpet at the mouth of a tall, powerfully-built man erect on the rail close against the mizzen-rigging: "what ship is that?" vanderdecken made no answer. the wind blew in a moaning gust over the bulwark, and there was the sound of a little jar and shock as the old fabric leaned wearily on the swell, but not a whisper fell from the men. meanwhile it was grown evident to me that our ship was greatly puzzling the people of the frigate. it looked indeed as if the men had left their stations to crowd to the side, for the line of the bulwarks was blackened with heads. a group of officers stood on the quarter-deck, and i could see them pointing at our masts as though calling one another's attention to the braave's great barricadoed tops, to her sprit-topmast, the cut and character of her rigging, and to the many signs that would convert her into a wonder, if not a terror, in the eyes of sailors. "ship ahoy!" now came down again, with an edge of anger in the hurricane note. "what ship is that?" at this second cry vanderdecken broke into life. he turned his face forward. "bring me my trumpet!" he exclaimed, in a voice whose rich, organ-like roll must have been plainly heard on board the frigate, whether his dutch was understood or not. the ancient tube i had seen in his cabin was put into his hand. he stepped to the rail, and placing the trumpet to his mouth, cried, "the braave." "where are you from?" "batavia!" "where bound?" "amsterdam!" there was another pause. the line of heads throbbed with visible agitation along the sides, and i saw one man of the group on the quarter-deck go up to the captain, who was speaking our ship, touch his cap, and say something. but the other imperiously waved him off with a flourish of his trumpet, which he instantly after applied to his lips, and shouted out, "haul down your flag and i will send a boat." vanderdecken looked towards me. "what does he say?" he exclaimed. i told him. he called to van vogelaar, who promptly enough came to the halliards and lowered the flag to the deck. i watched the descent of that crazy, attenuated, ragged symbol. to my mind it was as affrighting in its suggestions of unholy survival as the whole appearance of the vessel or the countenance and mechanic manners of the most corpse-like man of the crew of her. scarce was the ensign hauled down when there came to our ears the silver, cheerful singing of a boatswain's pipe, the main-topsail was laid aback and the frigate's length showed out as she fell slightly off from the luff that had held her canvas trembling in the wind. we were too far asunder for the nice discernment of faces with the naked eye, but methought since there seemed no lack of telescopes aboard the frigate, enough should have been made out of the line of deadly faces which looked over our bulwark-rail, to resolve us to the satisfaction of that british crew. again was heard the silver chirping of the boatswain's whistle; a pinnace was lowered, into which tumbled a number of armed seamen, and the blades of eight oars flashed like gold as they rose feathering from the first spontaneous dip. "they are coming!" cried imogene in a faint voice. "let us keep where we are," i exclaimed, "vanderdecken does not heed us. if we move his thoughts will fly to you, and he may give me trouble. dear girl, keep a stout heart. they will be sure to carry us to the ship--proud to rescue you, at least; then, what follows must come--you will be safe!" she put her hand under my arm. tall as were the bulwarks of the braave, there was swell enough so to roll the ship as to enable me with every windward sway to see clear to the water where the boat was pulling. with beating hearts we watched. on a sudden the oars ceased to rise and fall; the seamen hung upon them, all to a man, staring at our ship with heads twisted as if they would wring their necks; then, as if impelled by one mind, they let fall their oars to stop the boat's way, all of them gazing with straining eyeballs. the officer who steered stood erect, peering at us under his hand. the ship, god knows, was plain to their view now--the age and rottenness of her timbers, her patch-work sails, the sickliness of such ghastly and dismal hue as her sides discovered, the ancientness of her guns and swivels; above all, the looks of the crew watching the boat's approach--an array of figures more shocking than were they truly dead, newly unfrocked of their winding sheets and propped up against the rail to horribly counterfeit living seamen. "why have they ceased rowing?" cried imogene, in a voice of bitter distress, and withdrawing her hand from my arm to press it upon her heart. as she spoke a sudden commotion was perceptible among the men in the boat; the officer shrilly crying out some order, flung himself, as one in a frenzy, in the sternsheets; the larboard oars sparkled, and the desperate strokes of the men made the foam fly in smoke, whilst the starboard hands furiously backed-water to get the boat's head round swiftly, and before you could have counted ten she was being pulled, in a smother of froth, back to the frigate. i was about to leap to the side and shout to them, but at the instant vanderdecken turned and looked at me. then it flashed upon my mind, "if i hail the boat, he and van vogelaar, all of them, may imagine i design to inform the frigate of the treasure!"--and the apprehension of what might follow such a suspicion held my feet glued to the deck. "they have guessed what this ship is!" said imogene, in a voice full of tears. i could not speak for the crushing disappointment that caused the heart in me to weigh down, heavy as lead. i had made sure of the officer stepping on board, and of his delivering the girl and me from this accursed ship on hearing my story, and acting as a british naval officer should when his duty as a sailor, or his chivalry as a man, is challenged; in conformity with that noble saying of one of our most valiant admirals, who, on being asked whither he intended to carry his ship--"to hell!" he answered, "if duty commands!" yet one hope lingered, though faintly indeed; the captain of the frigate had imperiously commanded the boat to be manned, as i gathered by his manner of waving away the officer, who had addressed him in a remonstrant manner; would he suffer the return of the boat's crew until they had obeyed his orders? i watched. headlong went the boat, smoking through the billows which arched down upon her from the windward, and her oars sparkled like sheet lightning with the panic-terror that plied them; the excitement in the ship was visible enough, discipline had given way to superstitious fear. i could see the captain flourishing his arm with threatening gestures, lieutenants and midshipmen running here and there, but to no purpose. the whole ship's company, about three hundred sailors and marines as i supposed, knew what ship we were, and the very frigate herself as she rolled without way, looked like some startled beast mad for flight, the foam draining from her bows to the slow pitching, as a terrified steed champs his bit into froth, and shudder after shudder going up out of her heart of oak into her sails, as you would have said to watch the tremble and filling and backing of them to the wind. it was as i had feared, and had the captain of the man-of-war promised to blow his ship and men into a thousand atoms if the boat's crew refused to obey his orders to board us, they would have accepted that fate in preference to the hideous alternative adventure. in a trice the pinnace was alongside the frigate, the crew over the rail, and the boat hoisted. the yards on the main flew round, royals and topgallant-sails were set, studding-sails were run aloft, and before ten minutes had elapsed since the boat had started to board us, the frigate, under a whole cloud of canvas, was heeling and gently rolling and pitching over the brilliant blue sea, with her head north east, her stern dead at us, the gilt there and the windows converting her betwixt her quarters into the appearance of a huge sparkling square of crystal, the glory of which flung upon her wake under it a splendour so great that it was as though she had fouled a sunbeam and was dragging the dazzle after her. i looked at imogene; her beautiful eyes had yearned after the ship into the dimness of tears. "my dear, do not fret,", said i, again calling her my dear, for i still lacked the courage to call her my love; "this experience makes me clear on one point: we shall escape, but not by a ship." "how, if not by a ship?" she cried, tremulously. before i could reply, vanderdecken looked round upon us, and came our way, at the same time telling van vogelaar to swing the topsail-yard and board his main tack. "'tis in this fashion," he exclaimed, "that most of the ships i meet serve me. it would be enough to make me deem your countrymen a lily-livered lot if the people of other nations, my own included, did not sheer off before i could explain my needs or learn their motives in desiring to board us. what alarmed the people of that ship, think you, mynheer?" "who can tell, sir?" i responded, in as collected a manner as i could contrive. "they might suspect us hardly worth the trouble of capturing----" he motioned an angry dissent. "or," i continued, abashed and speaking hurriedly, "they might have seen something in the appearance of your crew to promise a bloody resistance." "by the holy trinity!" he cried, with the most vehement scorn, "if such a thing were conceivable i should have been glad to confirm it with a broadside!" and his eye came from the frigate that was fast lessening in the distance to his poor show of rust-eaten sakers and green-coated swivels. it was sure that he had no suspicion of the truth. not knowing that he and his ship were accurst, how was it possible for him to guess the cause of the behaviour of the ships which fled from him? you would suppose that he and the rest of the crew discovered many signs of satisfaction and delight at this escape from a ship to whose commands they had hauled down their flag; instead, they hung upon the rail watching the frigate shifting her helm for a hasty flight without a murmur, a note of speech; nothing appeared in them but a dull, leaden, dutch phlegmatic curiosity, if indeed this quality at all possessed them, and when van vogelaar sang out to them to brace round the yards on the main, they fell to the job of trimming sail and getting way on the ship with an incredible ghastly indifference in their countenances and in their movements, as they went about their silent labour. indeed, whatever passions they had seemed to pertain to what was to come; i mean, the heaving in sight of a ship would make them eager for tobacco or for whatever else they needed and she might have; but when the incident, the adventure, the experience--call it what you will--was passed, they turned a black and passionless mind upon it, without the capacity of grief or gladness. it was an hour after our usual dinner-time, and prins arrived to tell the captain the meal was on the table. he put imogene's hand under his arm caressingly, and i followed them with one wistful look at the frigate that was already a toy and far off, melting like a cloud into the junction of sapphire ether and violet ocean. i saw vanderdecken level a glance at her too, and as we entered the cabin he said, addressing me, but without turning his head, and leading imogene to the table. "it will be a disappointment to you, mynheer, that your countrymen would not stay to receive you?" "it was your intention," said i, "that i should go with them?" "certainly," he answered, confronting me slowly and eyeing me haughtily; "you are an englishman, but you are not my prisoner." "we may be more fortunate next time," i said, coldly. "'tis to be hoped!" said van vogelaar, who had followed last, speaking in his harshest and sourest tone. i turned to eye him; but at the moment the parrot, probably animated by our voices, croaked out, hoarsely, "wy zyn al verdomd!" on which the fellow broke into a coarse, raw "ha! ha!" yet never stirring a muscle of his storm-hammered face. 'twould have been like fighting with phantoms and fiends to war in words with these men. i am here, thought i, and there is yonder sweetheart to rescue before i am done with this death ship; and with a smile at her earnest, half-startled eyes i seated myself. chapter ix. captain vanderdecken walks in his sleep. this incident of the english frigate satisfied me that it was vanderdecken's intention to get rid of me at the first opportunity that offered. there could be no doubt that van vogelaar had poisoned his mind against me, for, certainly, at the start of this experience of mine, the skipper had treated me with humanity and a sort of heated, lofty courtesy; and since he deemed himself homeward bound, and regarded his vessel as a good sailer, he would not think it necessary to tranship me if his mind had not been acidulated. i remember when the evening came on that same day we had been chased and abandoned by the centaur, walking up and down the lee-side of the short poop alone, arents, who had charge, standing silent near the helmsman. i had worked myself up into great confusion and distress of mind. dejection had been followed by a fit of nervousness, and when i looked around me at the unmeasurable waste of ocean darkling in the east to the growing shadows there, at the ancient heights of canvas above me, with the dingy rusty red of the western light slipping from the hollow breasts and off the sallow spars, till the edges of the sails melted into a spectral faintness upon the gradual gloom, at the desolate, grassy appearance of the decks, the dull motions, the death-like posture of the three or four men standing here and there forward--i felt as if the curse of the ship had fallen upon my heart and life too--that it was my doom to languish in her till my death--to love and yet be denied fruition--to yearn for our release with the same impotency of desire that governed the navigation of this death ship towards the home it was the will of god she was never to approach. yet in any other mood i should have found an exquisite repose for the soul in this interval. there was an aroma as of the tropics in the gentle north-west wind. the ship, faintly impelled, went with a small curl of silver at her bow, as softly along the sea as the reflection of a star slides upon the brow of a smooth swell. the peace of the grave was in the floating tomb, and had my spirits been easy there would have been something of the delicious rapture of intellectual enjoyment that the opium smoker is said to inhale through the stem of his pipe in the indolent watching of this ancient ship, swimming out of daylight into darkness, with the reflected hectic on the larboard beam creeping like vermilioned smoke up her masts and over her sails, and vanishing off the trucks like the trailing skirts of some heavenward flying vision. on turning from a short contemplation of the sea over the stern, i observed imogene, at the head of the ladder conducting from the poop to the quarter-deck, watching me. it was the first opportunity which had offered for speaking with her alone since dinner-time. "captain vanderdecken has gone to his cabin to take some rest," said she. "i knew you were above by your tread." "ah! you can recognise me by that?" "yes, and by the dejection in it, too," she answered, smiling. "there is human feeling in the echo; the footfalls of the others are as meaningless as the sound of wood smitten by wood." "i am very dull and weary-hearted," said i. "thanks be to god that you are in this ship to give me hope and warmth." "and i thank him, too, for sending you to me," said she. i took her hand and kissed it; indeed, but for arents and the helmsman, i should have taken her to my heart with my lips upon hers. "let us walk a little," said i. "we will step softly. we do not want the captain to surprise us." i took her hand, and we slowly paced the deck. "all the afternoon," said i, "i have been considering how we are to escape. there is no man among this ghostly crew who has a friendly eye for me, and so whatever is done must be done by me alone." "you must trust no one," she cried, quickly; "the plan you light upon must be our secret. there is a demon imprisoned in vanderdecken; if it should be loosed he might take your life!" "i don't doubt it. and suppose i went armed, my conflict would be with deathless men! no! no! my plan must be our secret, as you say. but what is it? if but a gleam of light sank its ray into this darkness i should take heart." she pressed my hand, saying, "the frigate's abandoning of us has depressed you. but an opportunity will surely come." "yes, the behaviour of the frigate has depressed me. but why? because she has made me see that the greatest calamity which could befall us would be our encountering a ship willing to parley with us." "is it so?" "i fear; because vanderdecken would send me to her, and separate us." then bethinking me, by observing her head sink, how doleful and unmanly was such reasoning as this, such apprehension of what might be, without regard to the possibility of our salvation lying in the very circumstance or situation i dreaded, i said, heartening my voice, "imogene, though i have no plan, yet my instincts tell me that our best, perhaps our sole chance of escaping from this ship will be in some necessity arising for her to drop anchor off the coast, for careening, or for procuring provisions and water. think, my dear, closely of it! we dare not count upon any ship we meet taking such action as will ensure our joint deliverance. no body of seamen, learning what vessel this is, would have anything to do with her. then, as to escaping from her at sea, even if it were in the power of these weak, unaided arms to hoist one of those boats there over the side unperceived, i know not whether my love for thee, imogene--whether, o forgive me if i grieve you----" she stirred her hand, as if to remove it, but i held it the tighter, feeling in the warm and delicate palm the dew that emotion was distilling there. she was silent, and we came to a stand. she said in a weak and trembling voice: "you do not grieve me. why should i grieve to be loved?" "you are beautiful and good and a sailor's child, my dearest," said i. "and friendless." "no! bid me say i love thee?" she bade me whisper, drawing closer to me. i swiftly kissed her cheek that was cold with the evening wind. great heaven! what a theatre was this for love-making. to think of the sweetest, in our case the purest, of emotions having its birth in, owing its growth to, the dreaded fabric of the death ship! yet i, that a short while ago was viewing the vessel with despondency and fear and loathing, now for a space found her transfigured! the kiss my darling had permitted, her gentle speech, the caress that lay in her drawing close to me, had kindled a light in my heart, and the lustre was upon the ship; a faint radiance viewless to the sight, but of a power to work such transformation, that instead of a gaunt phosphoric structure sailing through the dusk, there floated under the stars a fabric whose sails might have been of satin, whose cordage might have been formed of golden threads, whose decks might have been fashioned out of pearl! we were silent for awhile, and then she said, in a coyly-coquettish voice with a happy note of music in it, "what were you saying, mr. fenton, when you interrupted yourself?" "dear heart!" cried i, "you must call me geoffrey now." "what were you saying, geoffrey?" said she. "why," i replied, "that even were it possible for me to secure one of those boats, and launch it unperceived, my love would not suffer me to expose you to the perils of such an adventure." "my life is in your keeping, geoffrey," said she. "you need but lead--i will follow. yet there is one thing you must consider: if we escape to the land, which seems to me the plan that is growing in you----" i said, "yes," watching the sparkling of the stars in her eyes, which she had fixed on mine. "are not the perils which await us there greater than any the sea can threaten, supposing we abandoned ourselves to its mercy in that little boat yonder? there are many wild beasts on the coast; often in the stillness of the night, when we have been lying at anchor, have i heard the roaring and trumpeting of them. and more dreadful and fearful than leopards, wild elephants and terrible serpents--all of which abound, dear--crocodiles in the rivers and poisonous, tempting fruit and herbs--are the savages, the hideous, unclothed kaffres, and the barbarous tribes which i have heard my father tell of as occupying the land for leagues and leagues from the cape to the coast opposite the island of madagascar." a strange shudder ran through her, and letting slip my hand to take my arm--for now that she knew i loved her she passed from her girlish coyness into a bride-like tenderness and freedom, and put a caressing manner into her very walk as she paced at my side--she cried, "oh, do you know, geoffrey, if ever a nightmare freezes my heart it is when i dream i am taken captive by one of those black tribes, and carried beyond the mountains to serve as a slave." there was so much truth in what she said that i could not listen to her without an emotion of distress; since, my own judgment forbidding the escape by the boat--if it were possible for us so to escape--her dread of the land was like the complete shutting out of all self-deliverance. however, i felt that no good could come of a conversation that insensibly led us into disheartening reflections, so i gradually worked our thoughts into another channel, and presently found myself breathing my passion afresh into her ear and hearkening to hurried answers, sighed rather than spoken, so gentle was her utterance. the dusk had thickened into night, the stars swung in glory to the majestical motion of the mastheads, there was a curl of moon in the west like a paring of pearl designed for a further enrichment of the jewelled skies, the phosphor trembled along the decks, and all substantial outlines swam into indistinctness in an atmosphere that seemed formed of fluid indigo. visible against the luminaries past the quarter-gallery was the figure of the mate; but the helmsman near him was shrouded by the pale haze that floated smoke-like about the binnacle. flakes of the sea-glow slipped slowly past upon the black welter as though the patches of stardust on high mirrored themselves in this silent ebony water. from time to time a brilliant meteor flashed out upon the night and sailed into a ball of fire that far outshone the glory of the greatest stars. the dew fell lightly; the crystals trembled along the rail and winked to the stirring of the wind with the sharp sparkle of diamonds; and though we were in the cold season, yet the light breeze, having a flush of northing in it, was pure refreshment without touch of cold, so that a calmer, fairer night than this i do not conceive ever descended upon a ship at sea. i was a young fellow in those days. my passion for the lonely and lovely girl who walked beside me was keen and hot; that she loved me as i loved her i could not be certain, for women are slower, and therefore the surer, in their capacity of loving than men; but that she did love me she made me know by a subtle sweetness of words and behaviour. i was young, i say, of a naturally merry and sanguine heart, and the gladness of my love entered into the night, smoothing out all the alarms and anxieties from my mind, and making me so much myself that for my light spirits i might have been on board some english ship with my sweetheart, swiftly heading for home, instead of treading with her the deck of a vessel accurst of heaven, and moving through the night, a ghostly shadow palely gleaming with death-fires, on a voyage that was never to have an end. thrice the clock struck in the cabin, and whenever the first chime sounded i would start as if we were near land and the sound was the note of a distant cathedral bell; and punctually with the last stroke would come the rasping voice of the parrot, reminding all who heard it of their condition. occasionally, arents moved, but never by more than a stride or two; forward all was dead blackness and stillness, the blacker for the unholy, elusive shinings, the stiller for the occasional sighing of the wind, for the thin, shaling sound of waters, gently stemmed, for the moan now and again that floated muffled out of the hold of the ship. twice imogene said she must leave me; but i could not bear to part with her. the night was our own, yea, even the ship, in her solitude wrought by the silent figures aft and the tomb-like repose forward, seemed our own; and my darling, being in her heart as loth as i to separate, lingered yet and yet till the silver sickle of the moon had gone down red into the western ocean, and the clock below had struck half-past eleven. then she declared it was time, indeed, for her to be gone; should vanderdecken come on deck and find her with me he might decide to part us effectually by sending me forward, and forbidding me to approach the cabin end; so, finding her growing alarmed, and hearing the quick beating of her heart in her speech, i said, "good-night," kissing her hand, and then releasing her. she seemed to hurry, stopped and looked behind; i stood watching her; seeing her stop, i held out my arms, and went to her, and she returned to me. with what love did i kiss her upturned brow, and hold her to my heart! she was yet in my arms, when the great figure of vanderdecken rose above the ladder, and ere i could release her he was close to us, towering in shadow like some giant spirit. the start i gave caused her to turn; she saw him, and instantly grasping my hand drew me against the bulwark, where we stood waiting for him to speak. love will give spirit to the pitifullest recreant, and had i been the most craven-hearted of men the obligation to stand between such a sweetheart as imogene and one whom she feared, though he stood as high as goliath, would have converted me into a hero. but i was no coward; i could look back to my earliest experiences and feel that with strictest confidence. yet, spite of the animating presence of imogene, the great figure standing in front of us chilled, subdued, terrified me. had he been mortal i could not have felt so; nay, had his demeanour, his posture, been that which intercourse with him had made familiar, i should not have suffered from the superstitious fears which held me motionless, and made my breathing laboured. but there was something new and frightful in the pause he made abreast of us, in the strange and menacing swinging of his arms, in the pose of his head defiantly held back, and in his eyes, which shone with a light that owed nothing to the stars, in the pallid gloom of his face. his gaze seemed to be rivetted on the ocean-line a little abaft of where we stood, and therefore did he appear to confront us. the expression in his face i could not distinguish, but i feebly discerned an aspect of distortion about the brow, and clearly made out that his under-jaw was fallen so as to let his mouth lie open, causing him to resemble one whose soul was convulsed by some hideous vision. imogene pressed my hand. i looked at her, and she put her white forefinger to her mouth, saying in accents so faint, that they were more like the whispers one hears in memory than the utterance of human lips: "he is walking in his sleep. in a moment he will act a part. i have seen this thing once before;" and so fairily speaking she drew me lightly towards the deeper gloom near the bulwarks where the mizzen-rigging was. for some moments he continued standing and gazing seawards, slowly swinging his arms in a way that suggested fierce yet almost controlled distress of mind. he then started to walk, savagely patrolling the deck, sweeping past us so close as to brush us with his coat, then crossing athwartships and madly pacing the other side of the deck, sometimes stopping with a passionate violent suddenness at the binnacle, at the card of which he seemed to stare, then with denunciatory gesture resuming his stormy striding now lengthwise, now crosswise, now swinging his great figure into an abrupt stand to view the sea, first to starboard then to larboard, now standing aloft; and all with airs and gestures as though he shouted orders to the crew and cried aloud to himself, though saving his swift deep breathing that, when he passed us close, sounded like the panting of bellows in angry or impatient hands, no syllable broke from him. "some spell is upon him!" i exclaimed. "i see how it is!--he is acting over again the behaviour that renders this ship accurst." "i saw him like this two years ago; 'twas earlier in the night," whispered imogene. "he so scared me that i fainted." that arents and the helmsman took notice of this strange somnambulistic behaviour in their captain i could not tell: he approached them as often as he approached us, and much of the dumb show of his rage was enacted close to them; but so far as i could judge from the distance at which we stood, their postures were as quiet as though they were lay figures, or passionless and in sensible creatures without understandings to be touched. it was a heart-subduing spectacle beyond words to tell of. bit by bit his temper grew, till his motions, his frenzied racings about the deck, his savage glarings aloft, his fury when, in this distemper of sleep, his perusal of the compass disappointed him, were those of a maniac. i saw the white froth on his lips as he approached us close to level a flaming glance seawards, and had he been satan himself i could not have shrunk from him with deeper loathing and colder terror. the insanity of his wrath, as expressed by his gestures--for he was as mute as one bereft of his voice by agony--was rendered the wilder, the more striking and terrible by the contrast of the night, the peace of it, the splendour of the stars, the silence upon the deep rising up to those luminaries like a benedictory hush! for such an infuriated figure as this you needed the theatre of a storm-tossed ship, with the billows boiling all about and over her, and the scenery of a pitchy sky torn by violet lightning and piercing the roaring ebony of the seas with zig-zag fire, and the trumpetings of the tempest deepened by a ceaseless crashing of thunder. he continued to lash himself into such a fury that, for very pity, misery and horror, you longed to hear him cry out, for the expression would give relief to his soul, strangling and in awful throes. suddenly he fell upon his knees; his hands were clenched, and he lifted them on high; his face was upturned; and as i watched him menacing the stars with infuriate gestures, i knew that even as he now showed so did he appear when he blasphemously dared his maker. a soft gust of the midnight air blew with a small moan through the rigging. vanderdecken let drop his arms, swayed a while as if he would fall, staggered to his feet, and with his hands pressed to his eyes as though indeed some sudden stroke of lightning had smitten him blind, came with wavering gait, in which was still visible a sullen and disordered majesty, to the poop ladder, down which he sightlessly went, steered by the wondrous, unintelligible faculty that governs the sleep-walker. i pulled off my hat and wiped my forehead, that was damp with sweat. "great god!" i cried. "what a sight to behold! what anguish is he made to suffer! how is it that his human form does not scatter, like one broken on a wheel, to the rending of such infernal passions as possess him?" imogene was about to answer when on a sudden the first stroke of midnight came floating up in the cathedral-note of the clock. "hark!" she exclaimed. "it is twelve! arents will now be relieved by van vogelaar. if that malignant creature spies me here at this hour with you, oh, 'twould be worse through the report he would give than if vanderdecken himself had surprised us. good-night, mr. fenton!" she quickly slipped from my grasp, and faded down the ladder. as she vanished i put my hand to my heart to subdue its beating, and whilst i thus stood a moment the last note of the clock vibrated into the stillness on deck and scarcely less clear than had the accursed croak sounded close beside me, rose the parrot's detestable cry: "wy zyn al verdomd!" chapter x. we sight a dismasted wreck. terrible as must have been the sufferings of vanderdecken in the tragic passage through which his spirit had driven in a silent madness of sleep, yet next morning i could perceive no trace of his frenzy in the cold and ghastly hue of his face. i found him on deck when i quitted my melancholy cabin, and he responded to the good morning i gave him with a touch of civility in his haughty, brooding manner that was not a little comforting to me, who had been kept awake till 'twas hard upon daylight by remembrance of the spectacle i had witnessed, and by apprehensions of how a person of his demoniacal passions might serve me if i should give him, or if he should imagine, offence. the draught--for the breeze was little more--had come more northerly, and the ship, as i might guess by the sun, was heading about north east. there were swathes and circles of gleaming ribbed clouds of gossamer texture all about the sky, and they looked as if some mighty hand had been swinging pearls, as a sower hurls seeds, about the heavens, which had been compacted by the wind into many different figures. they sobered the dazzle where the sun was, so that his wake lay upon the ocean in flashing streaks, instead of the fan-shaped path of glory he would have wrought had he shone in unstained azure. "there should be promise of a breeze, mynheer," said i, "in the shape and lay of those high clouds and the little dimness you notice to windward." "yes," he answered, darting a level glance, under his bushy, corrugated brows, into the north quarter; "were it not for what hath been sighted from aloft, i should be steering with my starboard tacks aboard." "what may be in sight, sir?" i asked, dreading to hear that it was a ship. he answered, "the sparkle of a wet, black object was visible from the cross-trees at sunrise. arents finds it already in the perspective glass from the fore-top. he reports it the hull of an abandoned ship. he may be mistaken. your sight is keen, sir; we greatly need tobacco; but i would not willingly lose time in running down to a vessel that may be water-logged, and therefore utterly unprofitable." "you wish me to go aloft and see what i can make of the object, sir?" "if you will be so good," he answered, with a grave inclination of the head. "captain vanderdecken," said i, "i should be glad to serve you in any direction. i only regret your courtesy will not put me to the proof." he bowed again and pointed to the telescope to which arents had fastened a lanyard that he might carry it aloft on his back. i threw the bight over my head and walked forward, guessing now that vanderdecken's civility was owing to his intending to make me oblige him in this way. coming abreast of the weather fore-shrouds, i jumped on to an old gun, thence leaped to the rail and swung myself into the rigging, up which, however, i stepped with the utmost caution, the seizings of the ratlines looking very rotten, and the shrouds themselves so grey and worn that they seemed as old as the ship herself, and as if generations of seamen had been employed to do nothing else but squeeze the tar out of them. there was a good-sized lubber's hole through which i easily passed, the barricadoes prohibiting any other entrance into the top; and when i was arrived, i found myself on a great circular platform, green as a field with moss and grass, and surrounded by a breastwork of wood to the height of my armpits, the scantling extraordinarily thick, but answering in age and appearance to the rest of the timber in the ship, with loop-holes for muskets and small cannon. the foot of the fore-sail having a very large curve, i had a clear view of the sea on both bows under it, and the moment i ran my naked eye from the windward to the leeward side, then i saw, fair betwixt the cathead and the knighthead, the flashing of what was unquestionably the wet side of a dismasted ship rolling to the sun. the regular coming and going of the sparkling was like the discharge of a piece fired and quickly loaded and fired again. i pointed the telescope, and the small magnification aiding my fairly keen sight i distinctly made out the hull of a vessel of between three hundred and four hundred tons, rolling with a very sluggish regularity and shooting out a strong blaze of light whenever the swell gave her streaming sides to the glory. i was pretty sure, by the power and broadness of this darting radiance, that her decks were not submerged, that indeed she would still show an indifferently good height of side above the water, and thereupon threw the glass over my back for the descent, pausing, however, to take a view of the ship from the height i occupied, and wondering not a little, with something of amusement, too, at the extraordinary figure her body offered thus surveyed. in fact, she was not three times as long as she was broad, and she had the sawn-off look of a wagon down there. after every swimming lift of her head by the swell, the droop of her bows hove a smearing of froth into the large blue folds, that might have passed for an overflowing of soap-suds from a wash-tub; and upon that whiteness all the forward part of her stood out in a sort of jumble of pondrous catheads, curved headboards sinking into a well, out of which forked the massive boltsprit, as the people who fashioned it would have spelt it, with its heavy confusion of gear, yards, stays for the sprit-topmast, and the like. i had a good sight of the sails up here, and perceived they were like the famous stocking of which dr. arbuthnot, or pope, or one of the wits of queen anne's reign, wrote; that is, that though they might have been the same cloths which the braave sheeted home when she set sail from batavia, yet they had been so patched, so darned, and over and over again so repaired, that to prove they were the same sails would be as nice a piece of metaphysical puzzling as to show that they were not. yet the sun flung his light upon their many-hued dinginess, and as i looked up they swung to the heave of the ship with a hard blank staring of their breasts that seemed like the bending of an idiot's gaze at the clusters and wreaths, and curls of pearly vapour over the lee horizon, and though my glance was swift yet even in a breathless moment a confusion was wrought, as though the shining prismatic clouds were starting to sweep like some maelstromic brimming of feathery foam around the ship and founder her in gradual gyrations of blue ether and snow-like mist. great god! thought i, here, to be sure, is a place to go mad in! to lie upon this dark green platform, to hearken to the spirit-whisperings amid this ancient cordage, to behold these darkened sails sallowly swelling towards some bloody disc of moon soaring out of a belt of sooty vapour, to listen to the voices of the fabric beneath and to the groans of her old age dying in echoes in the caverns of her stretched canvas--by my father's hand! thought i, if i am to save my brain i must put myself nearer to imogene than this; so i dropped with a loud heart through the lubber's hole, and stepped down the ratlines as fast as my fears of the soundness of the seizings would suffer me to descend. "what do you see, mynheer?" asked vanderdecken. "the hull of a ship, sir," i replied. "she is deep in the water but not too deep for boarding, i believe, for the sunshine finds a wide expanse to blaze out upon when she rolls." "well," he exclaimed, "an hour or two can make but very little difference," and he sent his impatient, imperious gaze into the blue to windward, and fell to marching the deck athwartships, opposite the tiller-head, becoming suddenly as heedless of my presence as if i had been a brass swivel on his bulwarks. but i was less likely to be chagrined by his discourtesy than by his attention. it had, indeed, come to my never feeling so easy in my mind as when he perfectly neglected me. our bringing of that hull within sight from the deck ran into more than an hour or two. close-hauled, and the breeze light, the braave scarce seemed able to push her bows through the water at all. the bubbles and foam-bells slided past as languidly as the tide of ebb in its last quarter wrinkles against the stem of an anchored vessel. at breakfast nothing else was talked of, and little enough was said about it too. we were, in truth, a silent party. every look of imogene caused me to see how the memory of last night worked in her--a night of sweetness and terror--of kisses and caresses, and entrancing revelations--and of an horrific spectacle of enormous and speechless anguish, humanly devilish! on deck, in the early sparkling breeziness of the morning, i had been sensible of no recoil on meeting vanderdecken; but at table i sat close to him; to his presence the recollection of the foam upon his lip, his fallen jaw, the soul-devouring, feverish restlessness of his enraged movements, his dreadful posture of imprecation, imparted insufferable emphasis; and when i quitted the cabin for the deck, not having spoken half-a-dozen syllables during the meal, the feeling of relief in me was like the removal of a cold hand from my heart. it was two hours-and-a-half after sighting the hull from the masthead, that it lay visible upon the sea from the deck. luckily, the breeze had stolen a point or two westerly, which enabled our ship to keep the wreck to leeward of our bowsprit; otherwise, we should never have fetched it by two miles, without a board, and that might have ended in a week's plying to windward. the crew had long got scent of this object ahead, and being as keen for tobacco as was ever a sharp-set stomach for victuals, they were collected in a body on the forecastle, where, in their dull, lifeless, mechanic way they stood staring and waiting. although those who had the watch on deck had been at various sorts of work when the wreck hove into view over the forecastle rail--such as making spun-yarn, sawing wood, (as i supposed for the cook-room) sail-mending, splicing old running gear, and the like--yet, i remarked they dropped their several jobs just as it suited them, and i never observed that either of the mates reproved them, or that the captain noticed their behaviour; whence i concluded that the curse had stricken the ship into a kind of little republic, wherein such discipline as was found was owing to a sort of general agreement among the men that such work as had to be done must be done. i found myself watching the wreck with a keener interest than could ever possess the breasts of the wretched master, mates, or crew. was any stratagem conceivable to enable me to use that half-sunk vessel as an instrument for escaping with imogene from this death ship? my dearest girl came to my side whilst my brain was thus busy, and in a soft undertone i told her of what i was thinking. she listened with eager eyes. "geoffrey," said she, "you are my captain. command me, and i will do your bidding." "my darling," i replied, "if you knew what a miserable, nervous creature this death ship has made of me you would guess i was the one to be led, you to direct. but yonder craft will not serve us. no! better that little boat there than a hull which the crew, ay, and perhaps the very rats have abandoned." chapter xi. the dead helmsman. i proved right in the estimate i had formed from the fore-top of the size of the wreck. her burthen was within four hundred tons. we gradually drove down to her, and when we were within musket-shot vanderdecken ordered the topsail to be laid aback. the breeze had freshened, the little surges ran in a pouring of silver-gushing heads, the broad-backed swell rose in brimming violet to our channels, and our ship rolled upon it helpless as an egg-shell. the wallowing of the wreck, too, was like the plashing and struggling of some sentient thing heavily labouring, with such fins or limbs as god had given it, to keep itself afloat. that there was no lack of water in her was certain; yet, having the appearance of a ship that had been for some days abandoned, at which time it might be supposed that her people would imagine her to be in a sinking condition, it was clear that in a strange accidental way the leak had been healed, possibly by some substance entering and choking it. all three masts were gone within a foot or two of the deck. her hull was a dark brown, that looked black in the distance against the blue, with the mirror-like flashing from the wet upon it; she had a handsome stern, the quarter-galleries supported by gilt figures, wherefrom ran a broad band of gilt along her sides to the bows. under her counter there stole out in large, white characters, with every heave of her stern, the words "prince of wales," and 'twas startling to see the glare of the letters coming out in a ghastly, staring sort of way from the bald brow of the swell, as it sloped from the gilded stern. her name proved her english. you could see the masts had been cut away, by the hacked ends of the shrouds snaking out into the hollows and swellings over the side. her decks were heavily encumbered with what sailors call "raffle"--that is, the muddle of ropes, torn canvas, staves of boats and casks, fragments of deck fittings and so forth, with which the ocean illustrates her violence, and which she will sometimes for weeks, ay, and for months, continue to rock and nurse, and hold intact for very affection of the picture as a symbol of her wrath when vexed by the gale, and of her triumphs over those who daringly penetrate her fortresses to fight her. the confusion to the eye was so great, and rendered so lively and bewildering by the hulk's rolling that, scan her as you would, it was impossible to master details with any sort of rapidity. suddenly imogene, grasping my wrist in her excitement, exclaimed, "see! there is a man there--he seems to steady himself by holding the wheel--look now, geoffrey, as she rolls her decks at us!" i instantly saw him. the wheel was in front of the break of the poop, where the cuddy or round-house windows were; and erect at it stood a man, on the starboard side, one hand down clutching a spoke at his waist, and his left arm straight out to a spoke to larboard, which he gripped. methought he wrestled with the helm, for he swerved as a steersman will who struggles to keep a ship's head steady in a seaway. "is he mad?" cried i. "ay, it must be so! famine, thirst, mental anguish, may have driven him distracted. yet, even then, why does not he look towards us? why, were he actually raving, surely his sight would be courted by our presence." "pray god he be not mad," whispered imogene; "he is certain to be a sailor and an englishman; and if he be mad, and brought here, how will these men deal with him?" "yes; and i say, too, pray god he be not mad!" i cried; "for back me with a hearty english sailor and i believe--yes, i believe i could so match these fellows as to carry the ship, without their having the power to resist me, to any port i chose to steer for to the eastward;" for with her cry of, "he is sure to be a sailor and an englishman," there swept into my brain the fancy of securing the crew under hatches, and imprisoning vanderdecken and his mates in their cabins--the least idle, in sober truth, of all the schemes that had presented themselves to me. "hush!" she exclaimed, breathlessly, and as she closed her lips to the whisper, vanderdecken came to us. but not to speak. he stood for some minutes looking at the wreck, with the posture and air of one deeply considering. the seamen forward gazed with a heavy steadfastness, too, some under the sharp of their hands, some with folded arms. i heard no speech among them. yet though their stillness was that of a swoon, their eyes shone with an eager light, and expectation shaped their pallid, death-like faces into a high and straining look. there were no signs of life aboard the wreck, saving the figure of the man that swayed at the wheel. i was amazed that he should never glance towards us. indeed, i am not sure that the whole embodied ghastliness of our death ship matched in terror what you found in the sight of that lone creature grasping the wheel, first bringing it a little to right, then heaving it over a little to left, fixedly staring ahead, as though such another curse as had fallen upon this dutch ship had come like a blast of lightning upon him, compelling him to go on standing at yonder helm, and vainly striving to steer the wreck--as terribly corpse-like as any man among us, and as shockingly vital too! it struck my english love of briskness as strange that vanderdecken should not promptly order the boat over, or give orders that should have reference to the abandoned hull; yet i could not help thinking that his holland blood spoke in this pause, and that there intermingled with the trance-like condition that was habitual in him, the phlegmatic instincts of his nation--that gradual walking to a decision, which in scotland is termed "takin' a thocht." after a while he said to me: "mynheer, the wreck hath an english name; she will be of your country therefore. may i beg of you to take my trumpet and hail that person standing at the wheel?" "i shall not need your trumpet, sir," said i, at once climbing upon the rail and thinking to myself that 'twas odd if there was not wanted a trumpet with a voice as thunderous as the crack o' doom to bring that silent, forward-staring man's face round to his shoulder. "wreck ahoy!" i bawled, with my hand to my cheek, and the wind took the echo of my voice clear as a bell to the hulk. there was not a stir in the helmsman beyond that dreary monotonous waving of his figure in his struggle to steady the wheel. i watched the foamless leaning of the wreck into the hollow, bringing her decks aslant to us, and the trailing and corkscrewing of the black gear that was washing over the side, and the sparkling of the broken glass of a skylight contrasting with the dead black of an half-dozen of carronades, and the squattering of the dead-eyes of her channels upon the blue volume of sea like the ebony heads of a row of negroes drowning; and then, wash! over she rolled to larboard, bringing a streak of greenish copper sheathing out of the white water which the fierce drainings from her side churned up, with a mighty flashing of sunlight off her streaming side, and a sharp lifting of the dark shrouds and stays and running ropes out of the seething welter, making her appear as though scores of sea-snakes had their fangs in her timbers, and that 'twas the very agony of their teeth, and the poison, which caused her to roll from them. i shouted again, and yet again; then dismounted. "he is deaf!" said vanderdecken. "he is dead!" said i, for this was forced upon me, spite of the erect and life-like posture of the figure, and what resembled the straining of his arms to steady the wheel. chapter xii. the dutch sailors board the wreck. "get the boat over," cried vanderdecken, turning to van vogelaar, "and go and inspect the wreck. look to the man first: heer fenton declares him dead; and particularly observe if there be aught that hath life in it aboard." on this, van vogelaar went forward, calling about him. in a few minutes a white-faced seaman, with yellow beard trembling to the wind, and his eyes looking like a rat's with the white lashes and pink retinas, leisurely climbed aloft with a line in his hand, and swinging himself on to the main-yard, slided out upon the horses to the extremity, or yard-arm as it is termed, which he bestrode as a jockey a steed; and then hauled up the line, to the end of which was hitched a tackle. this tackle he made fast to the yard-arm, and by it, with the help of steadying-ropes or guys, some of the crew on deck hoisted the little boat out of the bigger one and lowered it away into the water alongside. i watched this business with a sailor's interest, wondering that so great a ship as this--great, that is, for the age to which she belonged--should carry no more than two boats, stowed one in the other after the fashion of the north-country coastmen. nor was i less impressed by the aged appearance of the boat when she was afloat. she had the look of a slug with her horns, only that those continuations of her gunnel rail projected abaft as well as from the bows. and when van vogelaar and three of the crew entered her, then, what with the faded red of her inner skin, the wide, red blades of the short oars, the soulless movements of the seamen, the hue of their faces, the feverish unnatural shining of their eyes like sunshine showing through a cairngorm stone, their dried and corded hands, which wrapped the handles of their oars like rugged parchment--the little but marvellous picture acted as by the waving of a magic wand, forcing time back by a century and a half and driving shudders through the frame of a beholder with a sight whose actuality made it a hundredfold more startling and fearful than had it been a vision as unsubstantial as the death ship herself is mistakenly supposed to be. the wreck being within hailing distance, the boat was soon alongside her. the heavy rolling of the hull, and the sharp rise and fall of the boat, would have made any human sailor mightily wary in his boarding of the vessel, but if ever there was an endevilled wretch among the phantom's horrible crew, van vogelaar was he. the fiend in him stayed at nothing. the instant the boat had closed the wreck the fellow leaped, and he was on deck and walking towards the figure at the wheel, whilst the other--that is to say, two of them--were waiting for the hull to swing down for them to follow. the mate went up to the figure, and seemed to address him; then, receiving no reply, he felt his face, touched his hands, and pulled to get that amazing grip relaxed, but to no purpose. the others now joining him, they all stared into the figure's face; one lifting an eyelid and peering into the eye, another putting his ear to the figure's mouth. van vogelaar then came to the side, and shouted in his harsh and rusty voice that it was a dead man. vanderdecken imperiously waved his hand, and cried, "fall to exploring her!" and motioned significantly to the sky, as if he would have the mate misgive the weather, though there was no change in the aspect of the pearly wreaths and glistening beds of vapour, and the draught was still a gentle breeze. "dead!" i whispered to imogene; "yet i feared it!" "will he have been english, think you, geoffrey?" she said. "yes!" cried i, feeling a heat rising to my cheeks, "name me a foreigner that would so gloriously have confessed his nation! english?--ay, a thousand times over! for what does that posture indicate, that stern holding to his place, that dutiful grip of his iron hands? what but those qualities which give the british sailor the dominion of the deep, and which rank him foremost among the noblest spirits the world has ever seen? he has died at his post--one of thousands who have as heroically perished." i noticed vanderdecken looking at the body. there was deep thought in his imperious, menacing expression, with a shadow of misery that his fierce and glittering eyes did but appear to coarsen and harshen the gloom of, and i wondered to myself if ever moments came when perception of his condition was permitted to him, for it truly appeared as though there were a hint of some such thing in him now whilst he gazed at the convulsive figure at the wheel, as if--jesus have mercy upon him!--the sight of the dead filled his own deadly flesh with poignant and enraging yearnings, the meanings of which his unholy vitality was unable to interpret. when van vogelaar had spent about half-an-hour on the wreck, he and the others dropped over the side into the boat and made for us. we had scarce shifted our position, for the courses being hauled up and the topgallant-sails lowered, there was too little sail abroad for the weak wind then blowing to give us drift, and the swell that drove us towards the wreck would also drive the wreck from us. the mate came over the side, and stepping up to the captain, said, "she is an english ship, freighted with english manufacture; i make out bales of blanket, clothing and stores, which i imagine to have been designed for troops. "what water is in her?" "seven and a quarter feet by her own rod." "her pump?" "she hath two--both shattered and useless." "does she continue to fill?" "i believe not, sir; i would not swear to it; she rolls briskly, but," said he, sending his evil glance at the wreck, "it does not appear that she is sunk deeper since we first made her out." "yonder figure at the wheel is dead you say?" "as truly dead a briton as ever fell to a dutchman's broadside." i exchanged a swift look with imogene. "his eyes are glassy; his fingers clasp the spokes like hooks of steel. he must have died on a sudden--perhaps from lightning--from disease of some inward organ--or from fear." and there was the malice of the devil in the sneer that curled his ugly mouth as he spoke, taking me in with a roll of his sinister eyes. i watched him coldly. remonstrance or temper would have been as idle with this man and his mates as pity to that unrecking heart of oak out there. "what is to be come at?" demanded vanderdecken, with passionate abruptness. the other answered quickly, holding up one forefinger after another in a computative tallying way whilst he spoke, "the half-deck is free of water, and there i find flour, vinegar, treacle, tierces of beef, some barrels of pork, and five cases of this--which hath the smell of tobacco, and is no doubt that plant." and he pulled out of his pocket a stick of tobacco, such as is taken in cases to sea to be sold to the crews. vanderdecken smelt it. "'tis undeniably tobacco," said he, "but how used?" his eye met mine; i took the hint, and said: "to be chewed, it is bitten; to be smoked, it has to be flaked with a knife--thus, mynheer." and i imitated the action of cutting it. some of the crew had collected on the quarter-deck to hear the mate's report, and seeing the tobacco in the captain's hand and observing my gestures, one of them cried out that if it was like the tobacco the englishman had shown them how to use 'twas rare smoking! whether vanderdecken had heard of my visit to the forecastle i do not know: he seemed not to hear the sailor's exclamation, saying to me, "yes, mynheer, i see the convenience of such tablets; they hold much and are easily flaked." and then, sweeping the sea and skies with his eyes, he cried: "get the other boat over: take a working party in her and leave them aboard to break out the cargo. the smaller boat will tow her to and fro. arents, you will have charge of the working party--you, van vogelaar, will bring off the goods and superintend the transhipments. away, now! there is stuff enough there to fill the hollowest cheek with fat and to sweeten the howl of a gale into melody. away, then!" there was excitement in his words, but none in his rich and thunderous voice, nor in his manner; and though there seemed a sort of bustle in the way the men went to work to hoist out the large boat, it was the very ghost of hurry, as unlike the hearty leaping of sailors, fired with expectation, as are the twitchings of electrified muscles, to the motions of hale limbs controlled by healthy intellect. yet, to a mariner, what could surpass the interest of such a scene? as i leaned against the bulwark with imogene, watching the little boat towing the big one over the swell, with now a lifting that put the leaning, toiling figures of the rowers clear against the delicate, vaporous film over the sky at the horizon--the red blades of the oars glistening like rubies as they flashed out of the water, and the white heads of the little surges which wrinkled the liquid folds melting all about the boats into creaming silver, radiant with salt rainbows and prismatic glories--and now a sinking that plunged them out of sight in a hollow, i said to my dear one, "here is a sight i would not have missed for a quintal of the silver below. i am actually witnessing the manner in which this doomed vessel feeds and clothes herself, and how her crew replenish their stores and provide against decay and diminution. what man would credit this thing? who would believe that the curse which pronounced this ship imperishable should also hold her upon the verge of what is natural, sentencing her to a hideous immortality, and at the same time compelling the crew to labour as if her and their life was the same as that of other crews, in other ships." "if they knew their doom they would not toil," she answered; "they would seek death by famine or thirst, or end their horrible lot by sinking the ship and drowning with her." "how far away from the dread reality is the world's imagination of this ship, and the situation of her people!" cried i. "she has been pictured as rising out of the waves, as sailing among the clouds, as being perpetually attended by heavy black storms, and thunder claps and blasts of lightning! here is the reality--as sheer a piece of prose at first sight as any salvage job, but holding in the very heart of its simplicity so mighty, so complicate, so unparalleled a wonder, that even when i speak to you about it, imogene, and suffer my mind to dwell upon it, my mind grows numb with a dread that reason has quitted her throne and left me fit only for a madhouse! "you tremble!" she whispered, softly; "nay, you think too closely of what you are passing through. let your knowledge that this experience is real rob it of its terror. are we not surrounded with wonders which too much thought will make affrighting? that glorious sun; what feeds his flaming disk? why should the moon shine like crystal when her soil perchance is like that of our own world, which also gleams as silver does though it is mere dust and mould and unreflecting ashes? think of the miracles we are to ourselves and to one another!" she pressed my hand and pleaded, reproved and smiled upon me with her eyes. was she some angelic spirit that had lighted by chance on this death ship, and held it company for very pity of the misery and hopelessness of the sailor's doom? but there was a human passion and tenderness in her face that would have been weakness in a glorified spirit. oh, indeed, she was flesh and blood as i was, with warm lips for kissing, and breasts of cream as a pillow for love, and golden hair too aromatic for phantasy. chapter xiii. the dutchmen obtain refreshments. above an hour passed before the big boat, deeply laden, was towed by the little one from the wreck. of what a proportion of her freight was composed i could not tell, much of it being in parcels and casks. they had made sure of the tobacco by bringing away, at once, all that they could find. i observed a number of hams stitched up in canvas, and some sacks of potatoes, two bags of which were lost by the bottoms bursting whilst they were being hoisted, on which van vogelaar broke into several terrible oaths in dutch, though 'twas like a dramatic rehearsal of a ranting and bullying scene, for vanderdecken took no notice and the men went on hoisting and lowering away in the old phlegmatic mechanic fashion as though they were deaf. there were likewise other kinds of provisions of which i need not tease you with the particulars. i believe that all the loading of the boat--in this her first trip, i mean--consisted of articles of food; for some of the parcels which puzzled me proved to contain cheeses and the others might therefore as well represent stores of a like kind. "is it their custom to bring away the provisions first," i asked imogene. "as a rule," she answered, "they take whatever comes to hand, that is, if the articles be such as may be of use. what they chiefly secure as soon as possible is tobacco and spirits; then provisions and clothing; and then any treasure they may come across, and afterwards any portion of the cargo they may fancy that is light to handle, such as silks, pottery, and so forth." "but they cannot take very much," said i, "or a few meetings of this kind would sink their ship for them with overloading." "there are many of us," she replied, "and the provisions they bring away do not last very long. the pottery they use and it is soon broken. silk and such materials as they bring are light; and then, my dear, they do not meet wrecks every day, nor of the wrecks they meet may you count one in five that yields enough to sink this ship by a foot." "i am heartily sorry," said i, "that they should find so much to eat aboard yonder hulk. with so goodly a store of provisions, vanderdecken will not require to run into the land to shoot; and until this ship brings up i see no chance for ourselves." she sighed and looked sadly into the water, insomuch that she suggested an emotion of hopelessness; but in an instant she flashed out of her expression of melancholy weariness into a smile and gave me the deep perfections of her violet eyes to look into, as if she knew their power over me and shaped their shining influence for my comfort and courage. when the boat was discharged of her freight, the men's dinner was passed over the side for the fellows to eat in snatches, working the while to save time. the wind remained weak and quiet, but it was inevitable that the hamper we showed aloft should give us a drift beyond the send of the swell; and to remedy this vanderdecken clewed up his topsails and took in all his canvas, leaving his ship to tumble under bare poles, and by this means he rendered the drift of the vessel down upon the wreck extremely sluggish and scarcely perceptible. all day long the big boat was towed to and fro, making many journeys and regularly putting off from the wreck very deep with freight. vanderdecken ate his dinner on deck. you would have found it hard to reconcile any theory of common human passions such as cupidity, rapacity and the like, with his bloodless face and grave-yard aspect; and yet it was impossible to mistake the stirring of the true dutch instincts of the patient but resolved greed in the air he carried whilst he waited for the return of the boat, in his frequent levelling of the telescope at the wreck as one who doubted his people and kept a sharp eye on them, in the eagerness his posture indicated as he hung over the rail watching the stuff as it was handed up or swayed by yard-arm tackles over the side, and the fierce peremptoriness of the questions he put to van vogelaar as to what he had there, how much more remained, and so on, though nothing that the mate answered, satisfactory as must have been the account he gave, softened the captain's habitual savageness or in any degree humanised him. of the majesty of his deportment i have spoken; likewise of the thrilling richness of his voice, the piercing fire of his fine eyes and of his mien and bearing, so haughtily stately in all respects as to make one think of him, after a pagan fashion, as of some god fallen from his high estate; but for all that he was a dutchman at heart, dead-alive as he was; as true to his holland extraction in as he had been an hundred and fifty years earlier, when he was trading to batavia and nimbly getting money, and saving it, too, with as sure a hand as was ever swung in amsterdam. the threads and lines and beds of vapour extending all over the sky served to reverberate the glory of the sunset, as the crags and peaks of mountains fling onwards the echoes of the thunder-clap. in the east it was all jasper and sapphire, reds and greens, and a lovely clear blue slowly burning to a carnelian in the zenith, where the effulgence lay in a pool of deep red with a haze of light like fine rain floating down upon it half white, half of silver; then followed a jacinthine hue, a lustrous red most daintily delicate, with streaks of clear green like the beryl, till the eye came to the west, where the sun, vastly enlarged by refraction, hung in enormous bulk of golden fiery magnificence amid half-curtained pavilions of living splendour, where 'twas like looking at some newly-wrought fairy world robed in the shinings of the heaven of christ to see the lakes and lagoons of amber purple and yellow, the seas of molten gold, the starry flamings in the chrysolite brows of vapour, and the sky fading out north and south in lights and tints as fair as the reflections in the wet pearly interior of a sea-shell gaping on a beach towards the setting sun. the small swell traversing the great red light that was upon the sea put lines of flowing glory under the tapestries of that sunset, and the appearance was that of an eager shouldering of the effulgence into the grey of the south quarter, as though old neptune sought to honourably distribute the glory all around, and render the western sea-board ambient. then it was, while the lower limb of the luminary yet sipped from the horizon the gold of his own showering, that the picture of the wreck, and the death ship heaving pale and stripped of her canvas, became the wonder that my memory must for ever find it. how steadfastly the dead seaman at the wheel kept watch! the quieted sea now scarce stirred the rudder, and the occasional light movements of the figure seemed like starts in him, motions of surprise at the dutchmen's antlike pertinaciousness in their stripping of the hull. and they? in that mani-coloured western blaze they partook more of the character of corpses, in those faces of theirs, which stared our way or glimmered for a breath or two over the bulwarks, than ever i had found visible in them by moonlight or lamplight or the chilling dimness of a stormy dawn. the sun vanished and the pale grey of evening stole like a curtain drawn by spirit-hands out of the eastern sea and over the waning glories of the skies, with a star or two glittering in its skirts; and the wind from the north blew with a sudden weight and a long moaning, making the sea whence it came ashen with gushings of foam which ran into a colour of thin blood on passing the confines of the western reflection. vanderdecken, seizing his trumpet, sent a loud command through it to the wreck; but the twilight was a mere windy glimmering under the stars, which shone very brightly among the high small clouds by the time the boats had shoved clear of the hull and were heading for us, and the night had come down dark, spite of the stars and the silver paring of moon, ere the last fragment of the freight of rope, sail, and raffle from the wreck had been passed over the side from the big boat. it grew into a wild scene then: the light of the lantern-candles dimly throwing out the bleached faces and dark figures of the seamen as they hoisted the boats and stowed them one inside the other, the ship rolling on the swell that had again risen very suddenly as though some mighty hand were striving to press it down and so forcing the fluid surface into larger volumes, the heads of the seas frothing spectrally as they coursed arching and splashing out of the further darkness, the eastering slip of moon sliding like a sheering scythe among the networks of the shrouds and gear, and nothing to be heard but the angry sobbing of waters beating themselves into hissing foam against the ship's side, and the multitudinous crying, as of a distant but piercing chorussing of many women and boys, of the freshening wind flying damp through the rigging. it had been a busy day, it was still a busy time; but never throughout the hours, if i save the occasional cursing of the mate, the captain's few questions, his command trumpetted to the wreck, my talk with imogene, had human voice been heard. it was not so noticeable a thing, this silence of the ghostly crew, in the broad blaze of sunshine and amid an exhibition of labour that was like sound to the eye, as now, in the darkness, with the wind freshening, sail to be made and much to be done--much of the kind that forces merchant seamen into singing out and bawling as they drag and pull and jump aloft. the wreck was a mere lump of blackness tumbling out to windward upon the dusky frothing welter, and i thought of the dead sentinel at the helm. what in the name of the saints was there in that figure to put into the sea the enormous solitude i found in the vast surface glimmering to where it melted in shadow against the low stars? what was there in that poor corpse to fling a bleakness into the night wind, to draw an echo as chilling as a madman's cry out of the gusty moaning aloft, to sadden the very star-beams into dull and spectral twinklings? the canvas shook as the silent sailors sheeted it home and voicelessly mastheaded the yards. at three bells in the first watch the death ship had been wore to bring her starboard tacks aboard, and under all the canvas she had she was leaning before a small gale with her head to the southward and westward, her sides and decks alive with the twistings of the mystic fires which darkness kindled in her ancient timbers, and her round weather-bow driving the rude black surge back into boiling whiteness. chapter xiv. my life is attempted. heading out to sea afresh! once again pointing the ship's beak for the solitude of the ocean, and starting as it might be on a new struggle that was to end in storm and defeat, in the heavy belabouring of the groaning structure by giant surges, and in a sickening helpless drift of god alone knew how many leagues, ere the sky brightened into blueness once more! never had i so strongly felt the horror and misery of the fate which vanderdecken's hellish impiety had brought down upon his ship and her company of mariners as now, when i saw the yards braced up on the starboard tack, and the vessel laid with her head to the south and west. the fresh wind seemed to shriek the word "forever!" in her rigging, and the echo was drowned in the wild sobbing sounds that rose out of each long, yearning wash of the sea along her dimly shining bends. how was i to escape? how deliver imogene? i was a sailor, and whilst the ocean found me business, whilst it defined the periods of its detentions of me, i loved it! the freedom of it was dear to my heart; it was my home; it was a glass in which was mirrored the image of the creator i worshipped. but the prospect of continuously sailing upon it in the death ship, of fighting its subtle winds and furious storms to no purpose, converted it into a melancholy waste--a liquid plain of desolation--a mere hell of waters upon whose sandy floor hope, with tempest-torn wings, would speedily lie drowned, whilst its surface should grow maddening with the reflected icy sparkling of that starry crux, which shone but as a symbol of despair when the eye sought it from these accursed decks and beheld the quick light of its jewels trembling over the yard-arms of the death ship. shortly after midnight the wind freshened, and it came on to blow with some weight. i had been in my cabin an hour, lying there broad awake, being rendered extraordinarily uneasy by my thoughts. the sea had grown hollow, and the ship plunged quickly and sharply with a heavy thunderous noise of spurned and foaming waters all about her. it was sheer misery lying intensely wakeful in that desolate cabin, that would have been as pitchy black as any ancient castle dungeon but for the glimmering lights, which were so much more terrible than the profoundest shade of blackness could be, that had there been any hole in the ship where the phosphor did not glow, i would cheerfully have carried my bed to it, ay, even if it had been in the bottom of the fore-peak or in the thickest of the midnight of the hold. the rats squeaked, the bulkheads and ceilings seemed alive with crawling glow-worms, groans as of dying, cries as of wounded men sounded out of the interior in which lay stowed the pepper, mace, spices and other indian commodities of a freight that was hard upon an hundred and fifty years old! i suspected from the motions of the ship and the hollow, muffled roarings outside, that a gale of wind was brewing, and i resolved to go on deck and take a look at the weather since i could not sleep, for if the wind was north west it would give us such a further drift to the eastwards as would set the african coast at a fearful distance for our round-bowed sea-wagon to come at. on the other hand, the gale might have veered to a quarter favourable to heading for cape agulhas. should this happen, how would the curse operate? would the ship be permitted to near the cape before being blown back? but i suspected the operation of no fixed laws in this doom. to suffer the death ship to draw close, to fill the minds of the crew with triumphant assurance of their weathering the cape of storms, would be a mere hideous tantalising of them that could surely form no part of the sentence which obliterated from their minds the recollection of past failures. for, let the readers of my narrative bear this steadfastly in view: that if vanderdecken and his men knew of a surety that they were never to pass the cape into the south atlantic ocean, then, as beings capable of thinking and acting, they would long ago have desisted from the attempt and sought rest--if they could not procure death for themselves--haply in that same island of java from which they had sailed. i crawled into my clothes by feeling for them, and groped my way on to the poop. the sky was black with low-flying cloud, from the speeding rims of which a star would now and again glance, like the flash of a filibuster's fusil from the dark shrubbery of a mountain slope. but there was so much roaring spume and froth all about the ship, that a dim radiance as of twilight hung in the air, and i could see to as high as the topmast heads. i stepped at once to the binnacle without noticing who had the watch and found the ship's head south-east by south. i could not suppose the ancient magnet showed the quarters accurately, but, allowing for a westerly variation of thirty degrees, the indication came near enough to satisfy me that the wind was as it had been ever since the night i first entered this ship--right in our teeth for the passage of the cape, and that though we might be sluggishly washing through it close-hauled, we were also driving away broadside on, making a clean beam course for the heart of the mighty southern ocean. this vexed and harassed me to the soul, and occasioned in me so lively a sympathy with the rage that adverse gales had kindled in vanderdecken, that had he contented himself with merely damning the weather instead of flying in the face of the most high and behaving like some foul fiend, i should have deeply pitied him and considered his case the hardest ever heard of. the main-yard was lowered and a row of men were silently knotting the reef-points. the topgallant-sails had been handed, reefs tied in the topsails, and the vessel looked prepared for foul weather. but though the wind blew smartly, with weight in its gusts and plenty of piping and screaming and whistling of it aloft, there was no marked storminess of aspect in the heavens, sombre and sullen as was the shadow that ringed the sea-line, and fiercely as flew the black clouds out of it in the north west; and with this appearance i essayed to console myself as i stood near the mizzen-shrouds gazing about me. seeing a figure standing near the larboard-shrouds, i stepped over and found it to be van vogelaar. my direct approach made some sort of accost a formal necessity, but i little loved to speak with this man, whom i considered as wicked a rascal as ever went to sea. "these nor'-westers are evil winds, mynheer," said i, "and in this sea they appear to have the vitality of easterly gales in england. what is the weather to be like? for my part, i think we shall find a quieter atmosphere before dawn." he was some time in answering, feigning to watch the men reefing the mainsail, though by the light of the white water i could catch the gleam of his eyes fixed upon me askant. "what brings you on deck at this hour?" said he, in his rasping, surly voice. i answered, quietly, that feeling wakeful and hearing the wind, i rose to view the weather for myself. "a sailor is supposed to rest the better for the rocking of seas and the crying of wind," said he, with a mocking, contemptuous tone in his accents. "that saying is intended no doubt for the dutch seamen; the english mariner nobly shines as a sailor in his own records, but you will admit, sir, that he is never so happy as when he is ashore." "sir," i replied, suppressing my rising temper with a very heavy effort, "i fear you must have suffered somewhat at the hands of the english sailor that you should never let slip a chance to discharge your venom at him. i am english, and a sailor, too, and i should be pleased to witness some better illustrations of dutch courage than the insults you offer to a man who stands defenceless among you, and must be beholden, therefore, wholly to your courtesy." he said, in a sneering, scornful voice, "our courtesy! a member of a dastardly crew that would have assassinated me and my men with their small arms, hath a great claim upon our courtesy!" "i was aft, and ignorant of the intentions of the men when that thing was done," said i, resolved not to be betrayed into heat, let the struggle to keep calm cost what it would. to this he made no reply, then after a pause, said in a mumbling voice as if he would, and yet would not have me hear him, "i brought a curse into the ship when i handed you over the side; the devil craved for ye, and i should have let you sink into his maws. by the holy sepulchre, there are many in amsterdam who would have me keel-hauled did they know this hand had saved the life of an englishman!" and he tossed up his right hand with a vehement gesture of rage. i was a stoutly-built fellow, full of living and healthy muscle, and i do solemnly affirm that it would not have cost me one instant of quicker breathing to have tossed this brutal and insulting anatomy over the rail. but it was not only that i feared any exhibition of temper in me might end in my murder; i felt that in the person of this ugly and malignant mate i should be dealing with a sentence that forbade his destruction, that must preserve him from injury, and that rendered him as superior to human vengeance as if his body had been lifeless. and what were his insults but a kind of posthumous scorn, as idle and contemptible as that inscription upon a dead dutchman's grave in rotterdam, in which the poor holland corpse after eighty years of decay goes on telling the world that in his opinion britons are poor creatures? i held my peace, and van vogelaar went to the break of the poop, whence he could better see what the men were doing upon the main-yard. the enmity of this man made me feel very unhappy. i was never sure what mischief he meditated, and the sense of my helplessness, the idleness of any resolution i might form in the face of the supernatural life that encompassed me, made the flying midnight seem inexpressibly dreary and dismal, and the white foam of the sea carrying the eye to the ebony cloud-girdle that belted the horizon, suggested distances so prodigious that the heart sank to the sight of them, as to thoughts of eternity. i was running my gaze slowly over the weather sea-board, whence came the endless procession of ridged billows like incalculable hosts of black-mailed warriors, with white plumes flying and steam from the nostrils of their steeds boiling and pouring before them, and phosphoric lights upon them like the shining points of couched spears, when methought a dim pallid shadow, standing just under a star that was floating a moment betwixt two flying shores of cloud, was a ship; and the better to see, i sprang on to the rail about abreast of the helmsman, for my support catching hold of some stout rope that ran transversely aft out of the darkness amidships. what gear it was i never stopped to consider, but gripping it with my left hand swayed to it erect upon the rail, whilst with my right i sheltered my eyes against the smarting rain of spray, and stared at what i guessed to be a sail. i have said that the creaming and foaming of the waters flung from the vessel's sides and bows made a light in the air, and the sphere of my sight included a space of the poop-deck to right and left of me, albeit my gaze was fastened upon the distant shadow. all on a sudden the end of the rope i grasped was thrown off the pin to which it was belayed and i fell overboard. 'twas instantaneous! and so marvellously swift is thought that i recollect even during that lightning-like plunge thinking how icy-cold the sea would be, and how deep my dive from the great height of the poop-rail. but instead of striking the water, the weight of me swung my body into the mizzen-channels by the rope my left hand desperately gripped. i fell almost softly against a shroud coming down to a great dead-eye there and dropped in a sitting posture in the channel itself which to be sure was a wide platform to windward and therefore lifted very clear of the sea, spite of the ship's weather rolls. my heart beat quickly, but i was safe: yet a moment after i had liked to have perished, indeed, for the rope i mechanically grasped was all at once torn from my fingers with so savage a drag from some hand on deck that nothing but the pitting of my knee against a dead-eye preserved me from being tweaked into the hissing caldron beneath. i could see the rope plain enough as it was tautened, through the pallid atmosphere and against the winking of the stars sliding from one wing of vapour to another, and perceived that it was the main-brace, the lowering of the yard or reefing the sail having brought it within reach of my arm. then, with this, there grew in me a consciousness of my having noticed a figure glide by me whilst i stood on the rail; and, putting these things together, i guessed that van vogelaar, having observed my posture, had sneaked aft to where the main-brace--that was formed of a pendant and whip--was made fast and had let go of it, never doubting that, as i leaned against it, so, by his whipping the end off the pin it would let me fall overboard! i was terribly enraged by this cowardly attempt upon my life and was for climbing inboard at once and manhandling him, ghost or no ghost; then changed my mind and stayed a bit in the channel considering what i should do. thin veins of fire crawled upon this aged platform as upon all other parts of the ship; but the shrouds coming very thick with leather chafing-gear to the dead-eyes made such a jumble of black shapes, that i was very sure van vogelaar could not see me if he should take it into his head to peer down over the rail. after casting about in my mind, the determination i arrived at was to treat my tumble from the rail as an accident, for i very honestly believed this: that if i should complain to vanderdecken of his mate's murderous intention, i would not only harden the deadly malignity of that ghastly ruffian's hatred of me, insomuch, that it might come to his stabbing me in my sleep, but it might end in putting such fancies into the captain's head as should make him desire my destruction, and arrange with his horrid lieutenant to procure it. indeed, i had only to think of amboyna and the brutal character of the dutch of those times, and remember that vanderdecken and his men belonged to that age, and would therefore have the savagery which one hundred and fifty years of civilization, arts, and letters have somewhat abated in the hollanders, to determine me to move with very great wariness in this matter. but i had been dreadfully near to death, and could not speedily recollect myself. the white heads of the surges leaped, boiled and snapped under the channels, like wolves thirsting for my blood; and the crying of the wind among the shrouds, in whose shadows i sat, and the sounds it made as it coursed through the dark night and split shrilly upon the ropes and spars high up in the dusk, ran echoes into those raving waters below, which made them as much wild beasts to the ear as they looked to the eye. but little good could come of my sitting and brooding in that mizzen-channel; so, being in no mood to meet the villain, van vogelaar, i very cautiously rose, and with the practised hand of a sailor crawled along the lap of the covering-board, holding by the rail but keeping my head out of sight, and reached the main-chains, whence i dropped on to the deck unseen among the tangled thickness of the shrouds, and slided, as stilly as the ghostliest man among that ghastly crew could tread, to my cabin. chapter xv. my sweetheart's joy. once asleep i slept heavily, and it was twenty minutes past the breakfast hour by the time i was ready to leave the crazy and groaning dungeon that served me for a bedroom. i entered the cabin, but had scarcely made two steps when there sounded a loud cry in a girl's voice, half of terror, half of joy; a shriek so startling for the passions it expressed that it brought me to a dead stand. it was imogene. i saw her jump from her seat, make a gesture with her arms as though she would fly to me, then bring both hands violently to her heart with a loud hysterical ha! ha! as if she could only find breath in some such unnatural note of laughter, whilst she stood staring at me with straining eyes that filled her violet beauty with a light like that of madness. the clock struck the half-hour as she cried, and the echo of her voice and the deep, humming vibration of the bell were followed by the parrot's diabolical croak: "wy zyn al verdomd!" "god in heaven!" exclaimed vanderdecken, in a tone deep with amazement, "i thought that man was drowned!" it was a picture of consternation that i should not have dreamt to expect in men who had outlived life and in whom you would think of seeking qualities and emotions outside those which were necessary to the execution of their sentence. vanderdecken, leaning forward at the head of the table upon his great hands, the fingers of which were stretched out, glared at me with a frown of astonishment. prins--whose attendance upon me in my cabin had long been limited to his placing a bucket of salt-water at my door without entering--prins, i say, arrested by my entry whilst in the act of filling a cup of wine for the captain, watched me with a yawn of wonder, and stood motionless as though blasted by a stroke of lightning; whilst van vogelaar, with his head upon his shoulder, the blade of the knife with which he had been eating forking straight up out of his fist that lay like a paralysed thing upon the table, eyed me with a sunk chin and under a double fold of brow; his level, enchained stare full of fear, and cruelty and passion. i saw how it was, and giving the captain a bow and my darling a smile, i went to my place at the table and sat down. van vogelaar shrunk as i passed him, keeping his eyes upon me as a cat follows the motions of a dog; and when i seated myself he fell away by the length of his arm, dropping his knife and fork and watching me. imogene, breathing deeply, resumed her seat; nothing but vanderdecken's amazement hindered him from observing her agitation, which was of a nature he could not possibly have mistaken, if indeed he still possessed the capacity of distinguishing such emotions as love. she merely said, letting out her words in a tremulous sigh: "o geoffrey, thank god! thank god!" the food in front of her was untasted; but what grief there had been in her face before was lost in the confusion of feelings which worked in her loveliness with a vitality that made her red and white in the same moment. she repeated under her breath to herself: "thank god! thank god!" this, while the others stared. i turned to van vogelaar. "mynheer," said i, "you regard me with astonishment." he shrank a little further yet, and, after a pause, said, "are you man or devil?" "captain vanderdecken," said i, "has your mate lost his reason?" on this van vogelaar cried out: "captain, by the holy trinity, i swear it was as i have reported. this englishman, after prowling on deck last night in the early hours of the middle watch, suddenly clambered on to the rail, for what purpose i know not, and leaned his weight against the starboard main-brace, the sail then reefing. i looked round--on turning again he was gone! and nicholas houltshausen, who was at the helm, swore he saw him rise black upon the white eddies of the wake." vanderdecken frowningly questioned me with his eyes. i should have been acting a sillier part than a fool's to have jested with these men, besides, i had long since resolved to be plain. "herr van vogelaar," said i, "doubtless refers to my having fallen into the weather mizzen-channel last night from the rail, whilst peering at what i believed to be a ship. the main-brace, upon which i had put my hand to steady myself, yielded very suddenly," and here i shot a look at the mate, "but i fell lightly, and after sitting a little to recover my breath, made my way to my cabin." van vogelaar's death-like face darkened. an oath or two rattled in his throat, and returning to his old posture he fell to the meat upon his plate with the ferocity of some starving beast, insomuch that the veins about his forehead stood out like pieces of cord. the feelings with which vanderdecken received my explanation i could not gather. he gazed hard at me with fiery eyes, as though, mistrusting me, he sought to burn his sight down to my heart, and then, slowly resuming his knife and fork, went on with his breakfast in his familiar trance-like way, mute as a dead man. i constantly exchanged glances with imogene, but held my peace since she remained silent. she struggled to compose her face, but her joy at my presence shone through her mask of reserve, twitching the corners of her mouth into faint smiles, and dancing in her eyes like sunshine on the ripples of a sapphire pool. her love for me spoke more in this quiet delight than she could have found room for in a thousand words. how sweet and fair she looked! the light of her heart lay with a fair rosiness upon her cheeks, which had been as pale as marble when she had risen with her shriek and laughter to my first coming. presently van vogelaar left the cabin, going out scowling and talking to himself, but not offering so much as to glance at me. there was a piece of hung meat on the table, of what animal i did not know; it proved indifferent good eating. this and some cakes made of flour, with a goblet of sherry and water, formed my breakfast. i ate slowly, knowing that vanderdecken would not smoke whilst i breakfasted, and wishing to tire him away that imogene and i might have the cabin to ourselves. but my stratagem was to no purpose. he started suddenly from his waking dream--if, indeed, it was to be credited that any sort of intellectual faculty stirred in him when he lapsed into these cataleptic stillnesses--and bade prins go and get cut up some of the tobacco they had removed from the wreck, and then erecting his figure and stroking down his beard, he looked from me to imogene and back to me again, and said, "the weather promises to mend; but this wind must come from a witch's mouth--and a witch of deep and steady lungs. i hope you may not have brought us ill-luck, sir?" "i hope not," said i, shortly. "there are malign stars in the heavens," he continued, in a voice that trembled richly upon the air, like the waving echoes of some deep-throated melodious bell, "and there are men born under them. north of the baltic, on muskovite territory, is a nation of wretches who can bewitch the winds and sail their ships through contrary gales. they are not far removed from britain," said he, significantly. "they are as close to holland, mynheer," said i. "oh, captain!" cried imogene, "you do not wish to say that mr. fenton has had a hand in the fixing of this wind?" he leaned his forehead upon his elbow, and stretching forth his other hand, drummed lightly on the table with his long, lean, leprous-coloured fingers as he spoke. "why, mynheer fenton, miss dudley must allow that a curious luck attends you. how many of a crew went to your ship?" "forty, sir." "mark your star! of forty men you alone fall overboard! but fortune goes with you and you are rescued by van vogelaar. observe again! of forty men you alone are delivered into a ship whose nation is at war with yours! yet fortune still attends you and you are hospitably received, yea, even made welcome, and clothed, and fed and housed." i bowed. "more yet! last night you fell from the bulwark-rail. what sorcery is it that sways you into the mizzen-channel and presently, unseen, to your bed? nicholas houltshausen is noted among us for his shrewd sight. did not he swear he saw you rise black after your plunge among the froth of the ship's wake? what was it that he beheld? can the soul shed its body as the butterfly its skin and yet appear clothed, substantial, real as flesh and blood?" "i exactly explained that accident," said i. "if there be sorcery in my having the luck to tumble into a ship's mizzen-chains instead of the water, then am i a witch fit for a broomstick and a grinning moon!" "captain vanderdecken does but amuse himself with you, mr. fenton," said imogene. "it is true, mynheer," she continued, putting on an inimitable air of sweet dignity, which was vastly reassuring to me as proving that she had recovered her old easiness of mind and was now playing a part, "that we believed you had fallen overboard last night, and this being our conclusion you may judge how greatly your entrance just now amazed us. for me, i was so frightened that i shrieked out, as you doubtless heard. truly i thought you, the dead, arisen. captain vanderdecken cannot recover his surprise, and would have himself to believe that you are a sorcerer. you, who are so young, and an english sailor!" she laughed out, and a truer ring she could not have put into her forced merriment had she been a pritchard, or a clive, or a cibber. "indeed," she added, "to be a necromancer, you need a beard as long and as grey as the captain's." there was no temper in the look vanderdecken cast upon her, nay, it almost deserved the name of mildness in him whose eyes were forever fiery with hot thought and passions of undivinable character. but not the phantom of a smile showed in his face in response to her laughter. "madam," said i, putting on a distant air in conformity with the hint of her own manner, "i am no sorcerer. for your sake i would i were, for then my first business would be to veer this wind south, and keep it there till it had thundered our ship with foaming stem into the smooth waters of the zuyder-zee." this seemed to weigh with vanderdecken. he reflected a little and then said, with something of lofty urbanity in his mode of addressing me, "had you that power, mynheer, i do not know that i should object to your presence were you beelzebub himself." imogene's smile betrayed the delight she felt in her gradual, happy, nimble drawing of this fierce man's thoughts away from his astonishing suspicions of me as a wizard. "have you ever heard, mr. fenton," said she, "of that nation to the north of the baltic of whom captain vanderdecken has spoken?" "oh! yes, madam," i replied; "they are well known as russian finns, and are undoubtedly wizards, and will sell such winds to ships as captains require. i knew a master of a vessel who, being off the coast of finland, grew impatient for a wind to carry him to a certain distant port. he applied to an old wizard, who said he would sell him a gale that should enable him to fetch the promontory of rouxella, but no further, for his breeze ceased to obey him when that point was reached. the captain agreed, holding that a wind to rouxella was better than light airs and baffling calms off the finland coast, and paid the wizard ten kronen--about six and thirty shillings of english money--and a pound of tobacco; on which the conjurer tied a woollen rag to the fore-mast, the rag being about half a yard long and a nail broad. it had three knots, and the wizard told him to loose the first knot when he got his anchor, which he did, and forthwith it blew a fresh favourable gale." "that is so?" demanded vanderdecken, doubtingly, and folding his arms over his beard. "i knew the captain, mynheer," i answered; "his name was jenkyns, and his ship was a brig called the true love." "did the first knot give him all the wind he wanted?" asked he. "no, sir. it gave them a brisk west south-west gale that carried them thirty leagues beyond the maelstrom in the norwegian sea; then shifted, on which captain jenkyns untied the second knot, which brought the wind back to its own quarter. it failed them again, but when the third knot was untied there arose so furious a tempest that all hands went to prayers, begging for mercy for choosing to deal with an infernal artist instead of trusting to providence." it was not easy to make out the thoughts in vanderdecken's mind, not less because of the half of his countenance being densely clothed with hair, than because of the white, iron rigidity of as much of his face as was visible; yet i could not doubt that he believed in those finnish wizards from a sudden yearning in his manner, followed by a flashing glance of impatience at the cabin entrance, that was for all the world as though he had cried out "would to god there was a purchasable wind hereabouts!" but the reader must consider that this man belonged to an age when wise men soberly credited greater wonders than icelandish and finnish wind-brokers. by this i had made an end of breakfast, and prins arriving with a jar full of the tobacco, flaked and fit for smoking, the captain filled his pipe, first pushing the jar to me, and then fell into one of his silences, from which he would emerge at wide intervals to say something that was as good as a warrant he was thinking no longer of the sorcery of my fall and appearance. when he had emptied his bowl, he went to his cabin. imogene instantly arose and came to my side. "oh, my dearest!" she whispered, with a sudden darkening of her eyes by the shadow of tears, "i did believe, indeed, you were lost to me for ever! my senses seemed to leave me when vanderdecken accounted for your absence." "dear heart! my precious one!" i answered, fondling her little hand, which lay cold with her emotion in mine; "i am still with thee, and hope with us may remain fearless. but it was a narrow escape. van vogelaar came red-handed to this table. for hours he has had my blood upon his devilish soul. no wonder the villain quailed when i entered this cabin." "what did he do?" she cried. "i believed i saw a ship," i answered; "i jumped on to the rail to make sure, and leaned against the brace that governs the main-yard. he slipped aft and let go the rope, meaning that i should fall overboard, but my grip was a sailor's, and i swung with the rope into the mizzen-chains." "the wretch! he told vanderdecken that you had climbed on to the bulwarks and fallen. i could kill him!" she clenched her white fingers till the jewels on them flashed to the trembling of the tension, and a delicate crimson surged into her face. "i could kill him!" she repeated. "hush, sweet one! it is our business to escape, and we need an exquisite judgment. i, too, could kill the treacherous ruffian, only that he is deathless. you, brave heart, will advise me that we are not to know of this thing. no, let it be an accident of my own doing. we are in a shipful of devils, and must act as if we believed them angels." her face slowly paled, her fingers opened, and the angry shining faded out of her eyes leaving the soft, violet pensive light there. "yes, you are right; we must not know the truth of this thing," said she, musingly, after a little. "but be on your guard, geoffrey; keep well away from that rogue. his spanish treachery is made formidable by his dutch cunning. how swiftly he acted last night! his thoughts must have been intent for some time or even the demon in him would not have been equal to such readiness. see to your cabin door at night--o geoffrey, he might steal in upon you." i smiled. "he has spoken once; i shall not require a second hint." "o that i had a man's arm, geoffrey, that i might be your sentinel whilst you slept!" "precious one! you shall sentinel me yet! patience, meanwhile! it is this ship that makes home so distant. once clear of this groaning vault and we shall be smelling the sweetbriar and the violet." vanderdecken came out of his cabin and went on deck. he walked with impetuosity and passed without regarding us. through the open door leading to the quarter-deck i saw him stand a minute with his face upturned and then toss his hand with a gesture of baffled rage. "he is cursing the wind," said imogene. "how often has he done so since i have been in this ship! and when will a last day come to him, when there shall be no wind to curse, when death shall have paralysed his tongue and silenced his heart? how fiercely it now throbs! surely there is more stormy passion in one day of its beating than in twenty years of a human pulse! o, my dear, that you had the northern wizard's power of evoking prosperous gales!" "i should be glad of that power," said i, "for better reasons than to help this man to fight against his sentence. can you guess what i would do? i would straightway blow this old ship ashore. dread the afric coast as you will, dear one, it will be our only chance." "i dread it for its savages--the thought of captivity beyond the mountains is horrible! i have heard my father tell of the wreck of an east indiaman named the grosvenor, in which were ladies of distinction, who were seized by the natives and carried far inland and made wives of. that is not more than twenty years ago. o, geoffrey, sooner than that--i would be content to die in this ship--to go on sailing about in her till my hair was as white as the foam about our keel!" and as she said this she grasped a handful of her golden hair and held it to me, unconscious in the earnestness of her fears of the child-like simplicity of her action. i put my lips to the tress, that flowed from her head through the snow of her hand and thence down like a stream of sunny light or the raining of the jet of a golden fountain, and told her not to fear, that i loved the natives as little as she, and would contrive to give them a wide berth; and then i changed the subject by wondering what the consequences would be if last night's business and vanderdecken's talk this morning put it into the minds of the crew that i was as much a wizard as any finn and could control the breezes if i chose. she shook her head. "better that they should regard you as what you really are--an english sailor. suppose they persuaded themselves that you could raise and sell winds, they might determine to test you, and imprison, even torture you in the belief you were stubborn and would not do their bidding; or, if they came to consider you a wizard, they might think your presence in the ship unlucky, and, being half-savages, with demons for souls, as i believe, and with instincts belonging to a time when the world was brutal and human life held in no account--there is no imagining how they would serve you." "oh, imogene!" cried i, "you are my good angel----" "a true sweetheart must ever be that to the boy she loves," she whispered, looking down and softly blushing. "you are my true sweetheart, imogene! and how faithfully you are able to guide me through the marvellous experience we are both passing through, i know by the words you have just uttered," and i went on to tell her how van vogelaar had under his breath talked as if to himself of my being a curse in the ship. as i said this, prins came to the cabin door, and stood looking in. perceiving him, imogene rose and saying quietly, "he has perhaps been sent to report if we are together; go you on deck, dearest; i will join you, presently," went to her berth. end of volume ii. printed by tillotson and son, mawdsley street bolton transcriber's notes obvious punctuation errors repaired. inconsistent hyphenation fixed. p. : stancheons -> stanchions. p. : schellings -> schillings. p. : silival -> salival. p. : rotteness -> rottenness. p. : least my thoughtlessness -> lest my thoughtlessness. p. : mani-hued dinginess -> many-hued dinginess. p. : voeglaar -> vogelaar. p. : assasinated -> assassinated. p. : solemly -> solemnly. the death ship the death ship a strange story; an account of a cruise in "the flying dutchman," collected from the papers of the late mr. geoffrey fenton, of poplar, master mariner. by w. clark russell, author of "the wreck of the grosvenor," "the golden hope," "a sea queen," etc., etc. in three volumes vol. iii london hurst and blackett, limited , great marlborough street _all rights reserved_ printed by tillotson and son, mawdsley street bolton contents of the third volume. chapter page i.--we tell our love again ii.--we sight a sail iii.--the death ship is boarded by a pirate iv.--my life is again attempted v.--a tempest bursts upon us vi.--we spring a leak vii.--imogene fears for me viii.--land ix.--we bring up in a bay x.--the weather helps my scheme xi.--my poor darling xii.--i am alone the death ship. chapter i. we tell our love again. i had passed from the deck, where i slept, to the cabin in too great a hurry to notice the weather. now, reaching the poop, i stood a moment or two to look around, being in my way as concerned about the direction of the wind as vanderdecken himself. it still blew fresh, but the heavens lay open among the clouds that had thickened their bulk into great drooping shining bosoms, as though indeed the crystalline blue under which they sailed in solemn procession mirrored the swelling brows of mighty snow-covered mountains. the sea ran in a very dark shade of azure, and offered a most glorious surface of colours with the heave of its violet hills bearing silver and pearly streakings of sunshine and foam upon their buoyant floating slopes, and the jewelled and living masses of froth which flashed from their heights and stormed into their valleys as they raced before the wind which chased them with noisy whistlings and notes as of bugles. the death ship was close-hauled--when was the day to come when i should find her with her yards squared?--but on the larboard tack, so that they must have put the ship about since midnight; and the sun standing almost over the mizzen topsail yard-arm showed me that we were doing some westing, for which i could have fallen on my knees and thanked god. the captain and the mate were on deck, vanderdecken abreast of the tiller, van vogelaar twenty paces forward of him, both still and stiff, gazing seawards with faces whose expressionlessness forbade your comparing them to sleeping dreamers. they looked the eternity that was upon them, and their ghastliness, the age and the doom of the ship, fell with a shock upon the perception to the horrible suggestions of those two figures and of the face at the tiller, whose tense and bloodless skin glared white to the sun as the little eyes, like rings of fire eating into the sockets beneath the brows, glanced from the card to the weather edges of the canvas. yet i found comfort in their entranced posture and disregard of me, for the less i engaged their attention the safer i should be whilst in their ship, and memory being with them a deceptive and erratic quality, i might hope in time to find that they had forgot to hate me. i quitted the poop, not choosing to keep myself in view of vanderdecken and van vogelaar, and walked about the quarter-deck, struggling hard with the dreadful despondency which clouded my mind, whilst imagination furiously beat against the iron-hard conditions which imprisoned me, as a bird rends its plumage in a cage, till my heart pulsed with the soreness of a real wound in my breast. the only glimmer of hope i could find lay, as i had again and again told imogene, in the direction of the land. but who was to say how long a time would pass before the needs of the ship would force vanderdecken shore-wards? and if the wind grew northerly and came feeble, how many weeks might we have to count ere this intolerable sailer brought the land into sight? oh! i tell you, such speculations were sheerly maddening when i added to them the reflection that the heaving of the land into view might by no means prove a signal for our deliverance. however, by the time imogene arrived on deck i had succeeded in tranquilising my mind. she took some turns with me and then went to the captain on the poop and stayed with him, that is, stood near him, though i do not know that they conversed, till he went to his cabin; whereupon i joined her, neither of us deigning to heed the mate's observation of us, and for the rest of the morning we were together, knitting our hearts closer and closer whilst we talked of england, of her parents, the ship her father had commanded, and the like, amusing ourselves with dreams of escape, till hope grew lustrous with the fairy light our amorous fancies flung upon it. and lo! here on the deck of this death ship, with van vogelaar standing like a statue within twenty paces of us, and the dead face of a breathing man at the tiller, and silent sailors languidly stirring forwards or voicelessly plying the marline-spike or the serving-mallet aloft, where the swollen canvas swayed under the deep-breasted clouds like spaces of ancient tapestry from which time has sponged out all bright colours--here, in this fated and faded craft, that surged with the silence of the tomb in her through hissing seas and aslant whistling winds, did i, in the course of our talk, find myself presently speaking of my mother, of the little town in which she lived, of the church to which, under god, i would lead my sweetest, there to make her my bride! she blushed rosy with delight, and i marked the passionate gladness of her love in the glance she gave me, as she lifted the fringes of her white eyelids to dart that exquisite gleam, whilst she held her chaste face drooped. but looking, as though some power drew me to look, at van vogelaar, i met his malignant stare full, and the chill and venom of his storm-bruised countenance fell upon my heart like a sensible atmosphere and poison. for the life of me i could not help the shudder that ran through my frame. "do you believe," said i, "that the men of this death ship have any power of blighting hope and emotion by their glance? the mere sighting of this vessel, it is said, is sufficient to procure the doom of another!" she shook her head as though she would say she could not tell. "there is something," said i, "to ice the strongest man's blood in the expression van vogelaar sometimes turns upon me. there is an ancient story of a bald-pated philosopher who, at a marriage-feast, looked and looked a bride, and the wondrous pavilion which the demons she commanded had built, into emptiness. he stared her and her splendours into thin air, sending the bridegroom to die with nothing but memory to clasp. there may be no philosophy in yonder dutch villain, but surely he has all the malignity of apollonius in his eyes." "do you fear he will stare me into air?" said she, smiling. "i would blind him if i thought so," said i, with a temper that owed not a little of its heat to the heavy fit of superstition then upon me. "in the times of that rogue it was believed a man could pray another dead; but did one ever hear of a stare powerful enough to dematerialise a body? sweet one, if that pale ruffian there could look you into space, what form would your spirit take? would you become to me, as did the girl of his heart to the old poet-- "the very figure of that morning star that, dropping pearls and shedding dewy sweets, fled from the greedy waves when i approached." "he cannot part us!" she exclaimed. "let me be your morning star, indeed, flying to you from the greedy waves, not from you, geoffrey! do not speak to me of van vogelaar, nor look his way. tell me again, dear, of your mother's home; talk to me of flowers--of english flowers--and of that old church." chapter ii. we sight a sail. as the day advanced, the breeze weakened, the sea grew smoother, the surge flattened to the swell, and the wind did little more than crisp with snowy feathers those long, low, broad-browed folds swinging steadily and cradlingly out of the heart of the mighty southern ocean. every cloth the braave carried had been sheeted home and hoisted. she looked as if she had been coated with sulphur, as she slipped rolling up one slant and down another brimming to her channels; the hue of her was as if she had been anchored all night near to a flaming hill and had received for hours the plumy, pumice-coloured discharge of the volcano. there was nothing to relieve this sulphurous reflection with flash or sparkle; the sunshine died in the green backs of the brass swivels, it lay lustreless upon the rusty iron cannons, it found no mirror in the dry and honeycombed masts, and it touched without vitalising the rounded canvas, whose breasts had nothing of that hearkening, seeking look which you find in the flowing swelling of a ship's sails yearning horizon-wards to the land beyond the sea. she was heading about north west by north, on the larboard tack, the yards as hard fore and aft as they would lie; and though she was making more leeway than headway, 'twas certain her bowsprit--for the first time during the days i had spent in her--was pointing fair for the cape passage. it was this that had softened vanderdecken's fierceness. as bit by bit the death ship stole up to this heading, so had his temper improved; insomuch that throughout the afternoon he had exhibited towards me a manner marked in no small degree by the haughty courtesy and solemn and stately urbanity which i had observed in his treatment of me in the first day or two of my being with him. this, i promise you, singularly rejoiced me, as exhibiting precisely the influence necessary to neutralise the hideous malignity of the mate. it also showed that he was still so much a sea-captain in soul as to be rendered bland and obliging, or savage and dangerous, by the turn of the weather, or rather by the direction and strength of the wind. indeed, had his character contained more strokes of the humanity that is familiar to us, i should have heartily sympathised with the rage which contrary gales aroused in him. but the curse had made a _lusus naturæ_ of him. much of what had, in , been sailorly had been eaten out by time, and he flourished chiefly on those instincts which had miserably won him his doom. hence, however greatly you wished to feel pity, you found you could not compassionate him as you would a living and real person. and of this, indeed, i was especially sensible that afternoon, whilst watching him and reflecting that though to be sure he could speak to me now without striving to blast me with his eyes and to damn me with his frown, yet let the wind suddenly head us and blow hard, and 'twas odds but that i should be hiding away from him, in the full conviction that it might need but a single indiscreet word to procure my being thrown overboard. it was half-past five o'clock in the afternoon. i had come up from supper, leaving vanderdecken smoking at the head of the table. imogene had gone to her cabin for her hat. van vogelaar was off duty, and very likely lying down. arents had the watch. there was a fine sailing wind blowing, and but for the choking grip of the trim of the yards on the creaking, high, old fabric, i believe the ship would have got some life out of it. it was the first dog-watch--an idle hour--and all the ghostly crew were assembled forward, every man smoking, for tobacco was now plentiful; and their postures, their faces, their different kinds of dress, their lifelessness, save for the lifting of their hands to their pipes, and above all their silence, made a most wonderful picture of the decks their way; the foreground formed of the boats, a number of spare booms, the close quarters for the live-stock, the cook-house chimney coming up through the deck and trailing a thin line of blue smoke, whilst under the arched and transverse foot of the foresail you saw the ship's beak, the amazing relic of figure-head, the clews of the sprit-sail and sprit-topsail pulling aslant--between being the men, a dismal, white and speechless company, with the thick fore-mast rising straight up out of the jumble of them, whilst the red western light flowed over the pallid edges of the canvas, that widened out to the crimson gold whose blaze stole into the darkened hollows this side and enriched the aged surfaces with a rosy atmosphere. i stood right aft, carelessly running my eye along the sea-line that floated darkening out of the fiery haze under the sun on our weather-beam, till in the east it curved in a deep, blue line so exquisitely clear and pure that it made you think of the sweep of a camel's hair-brush dipped in indigo. i gazed without expectation of observing the least break or flaw in that lovely, darkling continuity, and 'twas with a start of surprise and doubt that i suddenly caught sight of an object orange-coloured by the light far down in the east, that is to say, fair upon our lee-quarter. it was a vessel's canvas beyond question; the mirroring of the western glory by some gleaming cloths; and my heart started off in a canter to the sight, it being impossible now for a ship to heave into view without filling me with dread of a separation from imogene, and agitating me with other considerations, such as how i should be dealt with, on a ship receiving me, if they discovered i had come from the flying dutchman. i waited a little to make sure, and then called to the second mate, who stood staring at god knows what, with unspeculative eyes. "herr arents, yonder is a sail--there, as i point." he quickened out of his death-like repose with the extraordinary swiftness observable in all these men in this particular sort of behaviour, came to my side, gazed attentively, and said, "yes; how will she be heading?" he went for the glass, and whilst he adjusted the tubes to his focus captain vanderdecken arrived with imogene. "what do you see, arents?" asked the captain. "a sail, sir, just now sighted by herr fenton." vanderdecken took the glass and levelled it, and after a brief inspection handed me the tube. the atmosphere was so bright that the lenses could do little in the way of clarification. however, i took a view for courtesy's sake, and seemed to make out the square canvas and long-headed gaff-topsail of a schooner as the sails slided like the wings of a sea-bird along the swell. "how doth she steer, mynheer?" said vanderdecken, as i passed the telescope to arents. "why," i answered, "unless the cut of her canvas be a mere imagination of mine, she is close-hauled on the larboard tack and looking up for us as only a schooner knows how." "what do you call her?" he exclaimed, imperiously. "a schooner, sir." whether he had seen vessels of that rig since their invention i could not know, but it was certain the word schooner conveyed no idea. it was amazing beyond language that hints of this kind should not have made his ignorance significant to him. the sight of the amber shadow on the lee quarter put an expression of anxiety into imogene's face. she stood looking at it in silence, with parted lips and shortened breathing, her fragile, her too fragile profile like a cameo of surpassing workmanship, against the soft western splendour, the gilding of which made a trembling flame of one side of the hair that streamed upon her back. presently turning and catching me watching she smiled faintly, and said in our tongue, "the time was, dear, when i welcomed a strange sail for the relief--the break--it promised. but you have taught me to dread the sight now." i answered, speaking lightly and easily, and looking towards the distant sail as though we talked of her as an object of slender interest, "if our friend here attempts to transfer me without you, i shall hail the stranger's people and tell them what ship this is, and warrant them destruction if they offer to receive me." the time passed. imogene and i continued watching, now and again taking a turn for the warmth of the exercise. as on the occasion of our pursuit by the centaur, so now vanderdecken stood to windward, rigid and staring, at long intervals addressing arents who, from time to time, pointed the glass as mechanically as ever vanderdecken's piping shepherd lifted his oaten reed to his mouth. shortly after six, arrived van vogelaar, who was followed by the boatswain, jans; and there they hung, a grisly group, whilst the crew got upon the booms, or overhung the rail, or stood upon the lower ratlines, with their backs to the shrouds, suggesting interest and excitement by their posture alone, for, as to their faces, 'twas mere expressionless glimmer and too far off for the wild light in their eyes to show. thus in silence swam the death ship, heaving solemnly as she went, with tinkling noises breaking from the silver water that seethed from her ponderous bow, as though every foam bell were of precious metal and rang a little music of its own as it glided past. but by this time the sail upon our lee-quarter had greatly grown, and the vigorous red radiance, rained by the sinking luminary in such searching storms of light as crimsoned the very nethermost east to the black water-line, clearly showed her to be a small but stout schooner, hugging the wind under a prodigious pile of canvas, and eating her way into the steady breeze with the ease and speed of a frigate-bird that slopes its black pinions for the windward flight. her hull was plain to the naked eye and resembled rich old mahogany in the sunset. her sails blending into one, she might, to the instant's gaze, have passed for a great star rising out of the yellow deep and somewhat empurpled by the atmosphere. it was our own desperately sluggish pace that made her approach magical for swiftness; but there could be no question as to the astonishing nimbleness of her heels. after a while, vanderdecken and his men warmed to the sight, and fell a-talking to one another with some show of eagerness, and a deal of pointing on the part of jans and arents, whilst van vogelaar watched with a hung head and a sullen scowl. occasionally, vanderdecken would direct a hot, interrogative glance at me; suddenly he came to where we stood. "what do you make of that vessel, mynheer?" said he. "sir," i replied, "to speak honestly, i do not like her appearance. two voyages ago my ship was overhauled by just such another fellow as that yonder; she proved to be a spanish picaroon. we had a hundred-and-fifty troops who, with our sailors, crouched behind the bulwarks and fired into her decks when she shifted her helm to lay us aboard, and this reception made her, i suppose, think us a battle-ship, for she sheared off with a great sound of groaning rising out of her, and pelted from us under a press as if satan had got hold of her tow-rope." "what country does her peculiar rig represent?" he asked, looking at the vessel with his hand raised to keep the level rays of the sun off his eyes. "i cannot be sure, mynheer; french or spanish; i do not believe her english by the complexion of her canvas. she may prove an american, for you may see that her cloths are mixed with cotton." the word american seemed to puzzle him as much as the word schooner had, for in his day an american signified an indian of that continent. however, i noticed that if ever i used a term that was incomprehensible to him, he either dismissed it as coming from one who did not always talk as if he had his full mind, or as some english expression of which the meaning--as being english--was of no concern whatever to his dutch prejudices. "doth she suggest a privateer to your judgment?" he inquired. i answered "yes; and more likely a pirate than a privateer, if indeed the terms are not interchangeable." on this he went to the others, and they conversed as if he had called a council of them; but i could not catch his words, nor did i deem it polite to seem as if i desired to hear what was said. "do you really believe her to be what you say, geoffrey?" said imogene. "i do, indeed. the dusk will have fallen before we shall have her near enough to make out her batteries and judge of her crew; but she has the true piratical look, a most lovely hull--low-lying, long and powerful--do you observe it, dearest? a cutwater like a knife, a noble length of bowsprit, and jibbooms, and a mainsail big enough to hold sufficient wind to send a royal george along at ten knots. if she be not a picaroon, what is her business here? no trader goes rigged like that in these seas. 'twould be otherwise were this the pacific. she may be a letter of marque." "look!" cried imogene, "she hoists her flag." i hollowed my hands and used them for telescopes. the bunting streamed away over the stranger's quarter, but it was a very big flag, and its size, coupled with the wonderful searching light going to her in crimson lancing beams out of the hot flushed west, helped me to discern the tricolour. "french!" i exclaimed, fetching a quick breath. vanderdecken had seen the flag, and was examining it through his ancient tubes. after a little he gave the glass to van vogelaar, who, after inspecting the colour, handed it to arents; then jans looked. vanderdecken called to me, "what signal is that she hath flying?" i responded, "the flag of the french republic." he started, gazed at the others, and then glanced steadfastly at me as if he would assure himself that i did not mock him. he turned again to the schooner, taking the telescope from jans. "the french republic!" i heard him say, with a tremble of wonderment in his rich notes. the mate shrugged his shoulders, with a quick, insolent turning of his back upon me; and the white, fat face of jans glimmered past him, staring with a gape from me to the schooner. but now the lower limb of the sun was upon the sea-line; it was all cloudless sky just where he was, and the vast, rayless orb, palpitating in waving folds of fire, sank into his own wake of flames. the heavens glowed red to the zenith, and the ruby-coloured clouds moving before the wind looked like smoke issuing from behind the sea where the world was burning furiously. the grey twilight followed fast, and the ocean turned ashen under the slip of moon over the fore yard-arm. the stealing in of the dusk put a new life into the wind, and the harping in our dingy, faded heights was as if many spirits had gathered together up there and were saluting the moon with wild hymns faintly chanted. chapter iii. the death ship is boarded by a pirate. i will not say that there is more of melancholy in the slow creeping of darkness over the sea than in the first pale streaking of the dawn, but the shining out of the stars one by one, the stretching of the great plain of the deep into a midnight surface, whether snow-covered with tossing surges or smooth as black marble and placid as the dark velvet sky that bends to the liquid confines, has a mystic character which, even if the dawn held it, would be weak as an impression through the quick dispelling of it by the joyous sun, but which is accentuated in the twilight shadows by their gradual darkening into the blackness of night. i particularly felt the oncoming of the dusk this evening. the glory of the sunset had been great, the twilight brief. even as the gold and orange faded in the west so did the canvas of our ship steal out spectrally into the grey gloom of the north and east; the water washed past wan as the light of the horny paring of moon; the figures of the four men to windward were changed into dusky, staring statues, and the wake sloped out from the starboard quarter full of eddying sparkles as green as emeralds. the canvas of the schooner, that had shone to the sunset with the glare of yellow satin, faded into a pallid cloud that often bothered the sight with its resemblance to the large puffs of vapour blowing into the east. "i should be glad to know her intentions," said i, uneasily. "if she be a piratical craft it will not do for you to be seen by her people, imogene. is it curiosity only that brings them racing up to us? may be--may be! they will be having good glasses aboard and have been excited by our extraordinary rig." "why should i not be seen, geoffrey?" asked my innocent girl. "because, dearest, they may fall in love with and carry you off." "but if they should take us both?" said she, planting her little hand under my arm. "ay, but one would first like to know their calling," i replied, straining my eyes at the vessel that, at the pace she was tearing through it, would be on our quarter within hailing distance in twenty minutes. what did vanderdecken mean to do? he made no sign. fear and passion enough had been raised in him by the centaur's pursuit; was i to suppose that yonder schooner had failed to alarm him because he was puzzled by her rig and by the substitution of the tricolour for the royal _fleur de lys_? "speak to him, imogene," said i, "that i may follow. they may resent any hints from me if i break in upon them on a sudden. "captain," she called in her gentle voice, "is not that vessel chasing us?" he rounded gravely upon her: "she is apparently desirous of speaking with us, my child. she will be hailing us shortly." "but if she be a pirate, captain?" "doth herr fenton still think her so?" he demanded. "she has the cut of one, sir," said i; "and in any case her hurry to come at us, her careful luff and heavy press of sail, should justify us in suspecting her intentions and preparing for her as an enemy." "will the englishman fight, think ye, captain, if it comes to that?" exclaimed van vogelaar, in his harshest, most scoffing voice. taking no notice of the mate, i said in a low voice to imogene, speaking quickly, "_they_ have nothing to fear. it is not for a frenchman's cutlass to end these wretches' doom. i am worried on your account. dearest, when i bid you, steal to my cabin--you know where it is?" "yes." "and remain there. 'tis the only hiding-place i can think of. if they board us and rummage the ship--well, i must wait upon events. in a business of this kind the turns are sudden. all that i can plan now is to take care that you are not seen." i should have been glad to arm myself, but knew not where to seek for a weapon; but thinking of this for a moment, it struck me that if the schooner threw her people aboard us, my being the only man armed might cost me my life; therefore, unless the whole crew equipped themselves i should find my safest posture one of defencelessness. "do these men never fight?" i asked imogene. "there has been no occasion for them to do so since i have been in the ship," she answered. "but i do not think they would fight. they are above the need of it." "yet they have treasure, they value it, and this should prove them in possession of instincts which would prompt them to protect their property." "god manages them in his own fashion," said she. "they cannot be reasoned about as men with the hot blood of life in them and existing as we do." yet their apathy greatly contradicted the avidity with which they seized whatever of treasure or merchandise they came across in abandoned ships, nor could i reconcile it with the ugly cupidity of the mate and the lively care vanderdecken took of those capacious chests of which he had exposed to me the sparkling contents of two. blind as they were, however, to those illustrations of the progress of time which they came across in every ship they encountered, they could not be insensible to the worthlessness of their aged and cankered sakers and their green and pivot-rusted swivels. their helplessness in this way, backed by the perception in them all that for some reason or other no harm ever befel them from the pursuit of ships or the approach of armed boats, might furnish a clue to the seeming indifference with which they watched the pale shadow of the schooner enlarging upon the darkling froth to leeward, though i am also greatly persuaded that much of the reason of their stolidity lay in their being puzzled by the rig of the schooner and the flag she had flown; nor perhaps were they able to conceive that so small a craft signified mischief, or had room for sailors enough to venture the carrying of a great tall craft like the braave. but vanderdecken could not know to what heights piracy had been lifted as a fine art by the audacity and repeated triumphs of the rogues whose real ensign, no matter what other colours they fly, is composed of a skull, cross-bones, and hour-glass upon a black field. the moon shed no light; but the wind was full of a weak dawn-like glimmer from the wash of the running waters and from the stars which shone brightly among the clouds. in all this while the schooner had never started a rope-yarn. her white and leaning fabric, swaying with stately grace to the radiant galaxies, resembled an island of ice in the gloom, and the illusion was not a little improved by the seething snow of the cleft and beaten waters about her like to the boiling of the sea at the base of a berg. she showed us her weather side, and heeled so much that i could not see her decks, but there was nothing like a gun-muzzle to be perceived along her. a gilt band under her wash-streak shone out dully at intervals to her plunges, as though a pencil had been dipped in phosphorus and a line of fire drawn. she was looking up to cross our wake and settle herself upon our weather quarter. nothing finer as a spectacle did i ever behold at sea than this spacious-winged vessel when she crossed our wake, rearing and roaring through the smother our own keel was tossing up, flashing into the hollows and through the ridges with spray blowing aft over her as though she were some bride of the ocean and streamed her veil behind her as she went, the whole figure of her showing faint in the dull light of the night, yet not so feeble in outline and detail but that i could distinguish the black, snake-like hull hissing through the seas, her sand-coloured decks, a long black gun on the forecastle, and a glittering brass stern-chaser abaft the two black figures gripping the tiller, the great surface of mainsail going pale to its clew at the boom end, a full fathom over the quarter, the swelling and mounting canvas, from flying-jib to little fore-royal, from the iron-hard stay-foresail to the thunderous gaff-topsail on high, dragging and tearing at the sheets and bringing shroud and backstay, guy and halliard, sheet and brace so taut that the fabric raged past with a kind of shrieking music, filling the air as though some giant harp were edging the blast with the resonance of fifty wind-wrung wires. great heaven! how did my heart go to her! oh, for two months' command of that storming clipper with imogene on board! 'twas a rush past with her; all that i saw i have told you, saving a few men in the bows and a couple of figures watching us near to the two helmsmen. if she mounted guns or swivels along her bulwarks i did not see them. i overheard vanderdecken exclaim, "it is as i surmised; she hath but a handful of a crew; she merely wishes to speak us." van vogelaar returned some gruff answer in which he introduced my name, but that was all i heard of it. once well on our weather quarter, the schooner ported her helm, luffing close; her gaff-topsail, flying-jib, royal and topgallant sail melted to the hauling upon clewlines and downhauls as though they had been of snow and had vanished upon the black damp wind; but even with the tack of her mainsail up, they had to keep shaking the breeze out of the small sail she showed, to prevent her from sliding past us. "oh, ze sheep ahoy!" sung out one of the two figures on the quarter-deck, the man coming down to the lee rail to hail, "what sheep air you?" as with the centaur, so now, vanderdecken made no response to this inquiry. he and the others stood grimly silent watching the schooner, as immobile as graven images. i said to imogene, "'tis dark enough to show the phosphor upon the ship. that should give them a hint. mark how vividly the shining crawls about these decks." "ze sheep ahoy!" shouted the man from the schooner that lay to windward, tossing her bows and shaking the spray off her like any champing and curvetting steed angrily reined in and smoking his impatience through his nostrils. "what sheep air you?" vanderdecken stepped his towering figure on to the bulwark; "the braave," he cried, sending his majestic voice ringing like a note of thunder through the wind. "vhat ees your country?" yelled the other. vanderdecken did not apparently understand the question, but probably assuming that these sea-interrogatories followed in the usual manner, answered, "from batavia to amsterdam," speaking as the schooner's man did in english, but with an accent as strongly dutch as the other's was french. thought i, he will see that we are a holland ship, and as france and their high mightinesses are on good terms he may sheer off. but even as this fancy or hope crossed my mind, a sudden order was shouted out on the schooner and in a breath the vessel's hatches began to vomit men. they tumbled up in masses, blackening the white decks, and a gleam of arms went rippling among them. "captain vanderdecken!" i bawled, "that fellow is a pirate! mind, sir, or she will be aboard of you in another minute!" and not stopping to heed the effect of my words, i grasped imogene by the hand and ran with her off the poop. "get you to my cabin, dearest, they are pirates and will be tumbling in masses over the rail directly." i pressed my lips to her cheek and she glided like a phantom down the hatch-ladder. what i relied on by advising her concealment i could not have explained; since those who rummaged the vessel were pretty sure to enter the cabins. but my instincts urging me to hide her away from the first spring of the men on to our deck, i took their counsel as a sort of mysterious wisdom put into me by god for her protection; it coming to this in short--that there might be a chance of their overlooking her if she hid below, whereas they were bound to see her if she remained on deck, to be ravished by her beauty, and, supposing them pirates, to carry her off as a part of their booty, according to the custom of those horrid villains. i stepped away from the hatch, lest it might be supposed i was guarding it, and stationed myself in the deep shadow under the quarter-deck ladder, where it and the overhanging deck combined cast an ink-like shade. there was small need to look for the schooner, you could hear her hissing like red-hot iron through the water as she came sweeping down upon our quarter under a slightly ported helm, ready to starboard for the heave of the grapnels and the foaming range alongside. there was no show of consternation among the crew of the death ship; nay, if emotion of any sort were at all visible, you would have termed it a mere kind of dull, muddled, dutch curiosity. i had fancied they would jump to arm themselves and assume some posture of defence; instead of this they had gathered themselves together in several lounging groups about the waist and gangway, many of them with pipes in their mouths, the fire of which glowed in bright, red spots against the green and lambent glitterings upon such woodwork as formed their background; and thus they hung with never a monosyllable uttered among them, their silence, their indifference, their combination of ghostly characteristics, with their substantial, glooming shapes, more terrifying to my mind than had every man of them a carbine pointing from his shoulder, with a crew forward as numerous again standing match in hand at twenty murdering pieces! all in an instant the shadow of the schooner's canvas was in the air deepening the gloom upon our decks with a midnight tincture; you heard the snarling wash of water boiling between the two vessels; the claws of the grapnels flung from the bows and stern of the frenchman gripped our aged bulwark with a crunching sound, and the mystical fires in the wood burnt out to the biting iron like lighted tinder blown upon. then, in a breath, i saw the heads of twenty or thirty fellows along the line of the bulwark rail, and as they sprang as monkeys might into our ship, one of them that grasped a pistol exploded it, and the yellow flash was like the swift waving of a torch, in the glare of which the faces of the silent, staring, indifferent sailors of the braave glanced in a very nightmare of white, unholy countenances. there was some yelping and howling among the frenchmen as they tumbled inboard--indeed, the seamen of that nation cannot budge an inch without making as much noise as would last a british forecastle several voyages; but their clamour sounded to me very much like the cries of men who did not relish their errand and raised these shouts for the same reason that sets a boy whistling on a road in a dark night. they jumped from the rail in slap-dash style indeed, waving their cutlasses and flourishing their pikes; but whether it was that they were suddenly confounded by the silence on our decks, or that they had caught sight in the pistol flash of the faces of the death ship's crew, or that the suspicion of our true character, which must have been excited in them by the glow upon our hull and by the ancient appearance of our spars, was quickly and in a panic way confirmed and developed by the glitterings upon our deck, the aspect of our ordnance, the antiquity suggested by the arrangement of our quarter-deck and poop--all of these points visible enough in the wild, faint light that swarmed about the air but all of them taking ghostly and bewildering, ay, and terrifying emphasis from the very dusk in which they were surveyed; whatever the cause, 'tis as sure as that i live who write this, that instead of their making a scamper along the decks, charging the dutch seamen, flinging themselves down the hatchways and the like, all which was to have been expected, they suddenly came to a dead stand, even massing themselves in a body and shoving and elbowing one another, for such courage, maybe, as is to be found in the feel of a fellow-being's ribs, whilst they peered with eyes bright with alarm at the phlegmatic sailors of vanderdecken and around then at the ship, talking in fierce short whispers and pointing. it takes time to record the events of thirty seconds, though all that now happened might have been compassed whilst a man told that space. 'twas as if the frosty, blighting curse of the ship they had dashed into had come upon their tongues, and hearts and souls. over the side, where the grappling schooner lay, heaving with a cataractal roaring of water sounding out of the sea between, as the flying dutchman rolled ponderously towards her, loud orders in french were being delivered, mixed with passionate callings to the boarders upon our decks; the schooner's sails waved like the dark pinions of some monstrous sea-fowl past ours, which still drew, no brace having been touched. i guessed there were thirty in all that had leapt aboard, some of them negroes, all of them wildly attired in true buccaneering fashion, so far as the darkness suffered my eyes to see, in boots and sashes, and blouses and lolling caps; there they stood in a huddle of figures with lightning-like twitching gleams shooting off their naked weapons as they pointed or swayed or feverishly moved, staring about them. some gazed up at the poop, where, as i presently discovered, stood the giant figure of vanderdecken, his mates and the boatswain beside him, shapes of bronze motionlessly and silently watching. but the affrighting element--more terrible than the hellish glarings upon the planks, bulwarks and masts, more scaring than the amazing suggestions--to a sailor's eye--of the old guns, the two boats and all other such furniture as was to be embraced in that gloom--was the crowd of glimmering faces, the mechanic postures, the grave-yard dumbness of the body of spectral mariners who surveyed the boarding party in clusters, shadowy, and spirit-like. i felt the inspiration, and, with a pang of heaven-directed sympathy with the terrors working in the frenchmen's breasts, which needed but a cry to make them explode, i shouted from the blackness of my ambush, in a voice to which my sense of the stake the warning signified in its failure or success, lent a hurricane note: "_sauvez vous! sauvez vous! c'est l'hollandais volant!_" what manner of paris speech this was, and with what accent delivered, i never paused to consider; the effect was as if a thunder-bolt had fallen and burst among them. with one general roar of _l'hollandais volant!_ the whole mob of them fled to the side, many dropping their weapons the better to scramble and jump. why, you see that shout of mine exactly expressed their fears, it made the panic common; and 'twas with something of a scream in their way of letting out the breath in their echoing of my shout that they vanished, leaping like rats without looking to see what they should hit with their heads or tails. i sprang up the quarter-deck ladder to observe what followed, and beheld sure enough, the towering outline of vanderdecken standing at the rail that protected the fore-part of the poop-deck gazing down upon the schooner with his arms folded and his attitude expressing a lifelessness not to be conveyed by the pen, though the greatest of living artists in words ventured it. against the side were the two mates and jans looking on at a scene to whose stir, clamour, excitement, they seemed to oppose deaf ears and insensible eyes. small wonder that the frenchmen should have fled to my shout, fronted and backed as they were in that part of the ship into which they had leapt, and where they had come to an affrighted stand, by the grisly and sable shapes of vanderdecken and his comrades aft, and by the groups of leprous-tinctured anatomies forward. i peered over the rail. the two vessels lay grinding together, and as the tall fabric of the death ship leaned to the schooner, you thought she would crush and beat her down, but with the regularity of a pulse the dark folds of water swept the little vessel clear, sometimes raising her when our ship lay aslant to the level of our upper deck, and giving me, therefore, a mighty good prospect of what was happening in her. both vessels were off the wind and were surging through it with a prodigious hissing betwixt their sides. the fright of the boarders had proved contagious. i shall never forget the sight! small as the schooner was, there could not have been less than ninety men on her decks, and they made a very hell of the atmosphere about them with the raving notes in their cries and bawlings. my knowledge of french was small, but some of their screams i could follow, as for instance: "'tis the flying dutchman!" "cut us adrift! cut us adrift!" "flatten in those head-sheets! shove her off! shove her off! pole her, my children, with a couple of sweeps!" "now she starts. no! what holds her? ha! ha! the weather topsail-brace has fouled the hollander's fore-topsail yard-arm. no use going aloft! let go of it--let go of it--that it may overhaul itself!" imagine about four-score throats--some with the guttural thickness of the negro's utterance--all together roaring and delivering orders such as those of which i have given you specimens! figure the decks throbbing with men rushing with apparent aimlessness from one side to the other, from one end to the other--not a vestige of discipline among them--a drowning yell or two coming up from between the ships where some wretch that had fallen overboard was holding on--the sails shaking, the water washing beyond in a glaring white that gave a startling distinctness to the shape of the schooner as she rose softly to the level of our upper deck bulwarks upon the seething snow! why, no matter how strongly imagination should present the picture, what is the simulacrum as compared to that reality which i need but close these eyes to witness afresh? the wildness of the scene took a particular spirit from the frowning, rocking mass of the death ship--the tomb-like silence in her--the still and glooming shapes watching the throes and convulsions of the terrified frenchmen and negroes from the poop and forward over the rail--the diabolic glowing in her timbers--the swaying of her dusky canvas like the nodding of leviathan funeral plumes--the dance of the slender slip of moon among the rigging, defining the vast platforms of the barricaded tops, monstrous bulgings of blackness up there as though a body of electric cloud swung bulbously at each lower masthead. they had the sense to cut the lines which held them by their grapnels to our ship, and presently to my great joy--for if they were true pirates, as there was good reason to believe from their appearance and manner of laying us aboard, 'twas impossible to feel sure that the fiercer spirits among them might not presently rally the rest--the schooner went scraping and forging past ahead of us; snapping her topgallant mast short off, with the royal yard upon it, by some brace, stay or backstay fouling us in a way the darkness would not suffer me to witness, and in a few minutes she had crossed our bows and was running away into the north east, rapidly expanding her canvas as she went, and quickly melting into the darkness. i stopped to fetch a few breaths and to make sure of the frenchman's evanishment by watching. more excitement and dread had been packed into this time than i know how to tell of. i slipped to the hatch on the upper deck, descended a tread or two, and softly called. in a minute i espied the white face of my dearest upturned to me amidst the well-like obscurity. "they are gone," said i, "the danger is over." she instantly stepped up. "i heard you cry out 'the flying dutchman! save yourselves!'" she exclaimed, with a music almost of merriment in her voice. "it was a bold fancy! what helter-skelter followed!" i took her hand and we entered the cabin. the richly-coloured old lamp was alight, the clock ticked hoarsely, you heard the scraping of the parrot clawing about her cage. "oh," she cried, "what a dismal place is that they have given you to sleep in! i believed i was hardened to the dreadful flickerings upon the deck and sides, but they scared me to the heart in that cell--and the noises too in the hold! oh, geoffrey, how severe is our fate! shall we ever escape?" "yes, my dearest, but not by ships, as i have all along told you. a chance will offer, and be you sure, imogene, it will find me ready. wondrous is god's ordering! think, my dear, that in the very curse that rests upon this ship has lain our salvation! suppose this vessel any other craft and boarded by those villains, negroes of the antilles, and white ruffians red-handed from the spanish main--'tis likely they were so and are cruising here for the rich traders--by this time where would my soul be? and _you_--ay, there is a virtue in this curse! it is a monstrous thought--but, indeed, i could take vanderdecken by the hand for the impiety that has carried you clear of a destiny as awful in its way as the doom these unhappy wretches are immortally facing." she shuddered and wept a little, and looked at me with eyes the brighter for those tears which i dared not kiss away in that public cabin. chapter iv. my life is again attempted. vanderdecken and the mate came below soon after this, and prins set a bowl of punch before them. the captain seated himself in his solemn way, and the mate took imogene's place--that is, over against my seat--she being at my side. they filled their pipes and smoked in a silence that, saving vanderdecken's asking me to drink, would, i believe, have remained unbroken but for imogene. she said: "captain, there is no fear, i hope, of those pirates attempting to board us again in the darkness?" "did herr fenton tell you they were pirates?" he replied, with the unsmiling softness of expression he was used to look upon her with. "surely they were pirates?" she cried. "be it so, my child," said he, "what doth it signify? they are gone; i do not fear they will return." being extremely curious to know what sense he had of this strange adventure, i exclaimed, "it is very surprising, mynheer, that a score of ruffians, armed to the teeth, should fling themselves into this ship for no other purpose, seemingly, than to leap out of her again." "they imagined us english, herr fenton," said van vogelaar, with a snarl in his voice and a sneer on his lip. i did not instantly catch the drift of his sarcasm. "doth any man suppose," said vanderdecken, rearing his great figure and proudly surveying me, "that the guns of our admirals have thundered in vain? you seek an interpretation of the frenchman's behaviour? surely by this time all englishmen should understand the greatness of the terror our flag everywhere strikes! twice you have witnessed this--in the hasty retreat of your man-of-war, and this night in the conduct of the french schooner. tell me," he cried, with new fires leaping into his eyes, "how i am to resolve the panic-terror of the boarding party, if i am not to believe that until they were on our decks, had looked round them and beheld our men, they knew not for certain the nation to which the braave belonged?" i bowed very gravely as i acquiesced. "skipper," cried van vogelaar, "is it not likely that they imagined us english? they showed no fear till our country spoke in the faces of our sailors." a faint smile of scorn curled the lips of imogene, but the contempt of her english heart quickly faded into an expression of compassion and sadness when she let her eyes travel from the sinister and ugly mate to the majestic countenance of the commander. but no more was said. the two men puffed at their pipes and sipped at their silver mugs in silence, and at long intervals only did imogene and i exchange a word. that they should so easily have been able to satisfy the surprise which the behaviour of the schooner must have excited in them was astonishing. yet a little reflection made me see that, since they did not know they were accurst and were ignorant of the horror and terror with which mariners of all countries viewed them, it was almost inevitable they should attribute the flight of ships from them either to a selfishness and indifference to their needs or to the dread which they inspired as a vessel that flew the dutch flag. yet may i, without irreverence, suggest that much of the venom of the curse must be neutralised by their ignorance of their condition and their inability to drive conjecture to the truth of whatever befel them? the shaping of their doom is beyond the power of reason to grasp, and i feel, therefore, the impiety of criticism. nevertheless, i must say that, since it is heaven's will these wretches should be afflicted with earthly immortality, it is inexplicable that the torments which perception of the truth would create, should be balsamed into painlessness by ignorance. for hath not the curse the idleness of that kind of human revenge which strikes and mutilates an enemy already dead? imogene withdrew to her cabin at about half-an-hour after nine; vanderdecken went on deck and i sat alone smoking, thinking of the surprising events of the evening, scheming how to escape and making my heart very heavy with a passionate hopeless yearning for the time to come when, secure upon the soil of our beloved land, i should be calling the delicate, lovely, lonely girl--the amber-haired fairy of this death ship--my own! the slow, rusty, saw-like ticking of the ancient clock was an extremely melancholy noise, and i abhorred its chimes too, not because of the sound, that was very sonorously melodious, but because it startled the parrot into its ugly, hobgoblin croak. it was a detestable exclamation to salute the ears of a man whose thoughts ran in the very strain of that coarse, comminatory confirmation of them. the ancient salt and weedy smell of the ship--a distinguishable thing in the after part--if it was somewhat mitigated forward by the greasy smoke and steam of the cook-house--lent a peculiar accentuation to the various shinings of the lamp, in whose many-coloured radiance some of the dusky oval-framed paintings loomed out red, others green, the ponderous beams of the upper deck blue, the captain's tall, velvet-backed chair yellow, and so on; all these tints blending into a faint unearthly atmosphere as they stole dying to the bulkhead of the state-room, behind whose larboard door my love lay sleeping. i was glad to quit the place, and went on deck. there was nothing to be seen saving the foam that flashed near and crawled afar, the glitter of the low-lying stars like the sparkle of torches on ships dipping upon the horizon, a sullen movement of dark clouds on high, and the moon red as an angry scar up-curled over the western horizon. 'twas on a sudden i noticed that we were making a fair wind of the breeze. yes, on looking aloft i perceived that the yards were braced in, lying so as to show the wind to be blowing about one point abaft the beam. it was strange that in the cabin i had not heard any noise to denote that the men were trimming sail, no sound of rope flung down in coils, no rusty cheeping cry from the aged blocks, no squeak of truss or parrel, or tread of foot. that was, maybe, because the men had fallen dumbly, as usual, to the job of hauling and pulling, so that my attention had not been drawn to such noises as were raised. be this as it may, for the first time since i had been in the ship the wind had come fair. by the situation of the cross, i guessed she was being headed about west-north-west, which would carry us to agulhas, and also into the ethiopic sea. for a little bit i was sensible of a degree of excitement; there had come a break; it was no longer a hopeless ratching to the north, then a bleak, slanting drift into the mighty solitude of the south; the ship was going home! but with that thought my spirits sank. home? what home had she but these wild, wide waters? what other lot than the gentle cradling or tempestuous smiting of these surges, the crying of the winds of the southern ocean in her rigging, the desolate scream of the lonely sea-bird in her wake, the white sunshine of the blue heavens, the levin-brand of the electric storm, the midnight veil of the black hurricane, the wide, snow-like light of the northern moon, over and over again! no! i was mortal, at least, with the plain understanding of a healthy man, and was not to be cheated by a flowing sheet as though mine, too, was the unholy immortality with its human yearnings and earthly labours of the men who manned this death ship. the change was but one of the deceits of their heavy sentence, and with an inward prayer that for me and for my precious one it might work out some profitable issue, i went to my cabin. the door hung on a hook that held it open by the length of a finger; outside swung the lamp that sent light sufficient to me through the interstice. at midnight, this lamp was borne away by prins, whose final duty before going to his sleeping-place lay in this. it was a regular custom, and whenever it happened that i stayed on deck beyond midnight, then i had to "turn in," as best i could, in the dark. yet, dark i could not term my cabin at night, 'twas rather "darkness visible," as milton hath it; for though the glowing crawlings yielded no radiance, no, no more than a mirrored star shining out of the wet blackness of a well, yet such objects as intercepted it, it revealed, as a suspended coat, for instance, that, hanging against the bulkhead, had its figure limned against the phosphor, as though 'twas blotted there in ink, very faithful in outline. there was enough in the events of the evening to keep my brain occupied and my eyes open, and i lay thus for some half-hour, thinking and watching the unnatural lights, and wondering why they should be there, since i had never beheld the like glowing in the most ancient marine structure i had ever visited, when, on a sudden, i was sensible of someone standing outside the cabin door and listening, as it appeared. it was a peculiar, regular breathing sound, that gave me to know this--a respiration as rhythmic as that of a sleeping man whose slumber is peaceful. an instant after i heard the _click_ of the hook of the door lightly lifted out of the staple, but all so quietly that the noise would have been inaudible amid the straining of the rocking vessel if my attention had not been rendered piercing by that solemn and strong breathing, rising very plainly above the sounds in the hold. i sprang on to the deck; being in my socks i fell on my feet noiselessly. against the greenish glitterings about the cabin i easily made out the figure of a man, standing within the door, holding it in a posture of eager listening. my breath grew thick and short; the horror of this situation is not to be conceived. it was not as though i were in an earthly ship, for in that case, no matter who the midnight intruder, he would have had a mortal throat for my fingers to close upon. but whoever this shape might be he belonged to the death ship, and 'twas frightful to see his outline, black as the atmosphere of a churchyard grave, thrown out, in its posture of watching and listening, by the fiery, writhing fibrines of the phosphor, to know that the deep and hollow breathing came from a figure in whom life was a monstrous simulation, to feel that his confrontment by an hercules or a goliath would as little quail his endevilled spirit as the dead are to be terrified by the menaces of the living. i watched with half-suffocated respiration. since his outline was plain it was sure mine was so likewise; but i could not distinguish that he was looking towards the place where i stood, that is, in the middle of the after bulkhead, a couple of paces from the foot of the bed, whither i had backed on his entering. he very softly closed the door, on which i drew myself up waiting for the onslaught i was certain he designed, though when i considered what thing it was i should be dealing with, the sense of my helplessness came very near to breaking me down. having closed the door he approached the bed, and bent his head down as though listening; then, with amazing swiftness, stabbed at the bed four times, each blow, with the vehemence of it, making a distinct sound; after which he hung over the bed with his arm uplifted and his head bent as though he would make sure by listening that he had dispatched me. his figure was so plain that it was as if you should cut out the shape of a man in black paper and paste it upon a dull yellow ground. from the upraised hand i could distinguish the projection of a knife or small sword not less than a foot long. he was not apparently easily satisfied that i lay dead; for he kept his menacing, hearkening posture while i could have counted sixty; he then went lightly to the door, opened it and passed out. whether he walked in his sleep--and certainly his motions were those of a somnambulist--or whether he was influenced by some condition of his doom, of a character as unconjecturable as the manner in which vitality was preserved among the crew, who were years and years ago dead in time, i could not conceive; but, resolved to discover him if i could, i followed on his heels, catching the door as it swung from his grasp; but there was no need to close it nor slip a foot beyond the coaming; for, the glimmer all about serving my sight, i saw him enter the cabin opposite--that in which van vogelaar slept, whereby i knew who it was that would have assassinated me that night had i slept when i lay down. you will easily credit that this man had murdered sleep so far as i was concerned. i would not go on deck, and i would not lie down either, for what i had beheld had so wrought in my imagination that the mere idea of resting upon the holes which the villain's blade had made in the aged mattress filled me with horror. so for the rest of the night i walked about the cabin or rested on the edge of the bed, praying for daylight, and repeatedly commending myself to god; for, this being the second time my life had been attempted by the same hand, i could not question, if it was the will of heaven this hideous cruise should be prolonged, the third venture would be successful, and in the dreadful loneliness and luminous blackness of that cabin i viewed myself as a dead man, and could have wept with rage and grief when thinking of my helplessness and of imogene's fate. however, i clearly saw that no good could attend my telling vanderdecken of his mate's hunger for my life. if van vogelaar had walked in his sleep he would not know what he had done; he would call me a liar for charging him with it, and i might count upon vanderdecken siding with him in any case. the dutch are a less savage people than they were, but in the age to which this ship's company belonged they were the most inhuman people in europe, perhaps in the world, and such were the barbarities they were guilty of, that the passage of two centuries--and it would be the same if it were the passage of two hundred centuries--leaves their crimes as fresh and smoking to god as the blood of their victims at the time of their being done to death. consider their treatment of sailors: how for a petty theft they would proclaim a man infamous at the fore-mast; torture him into confession by attaching heavy weights to his feet, running him aloft, and then letting him fall; keel-haul him, that is, draw him several times under the ship's keel; affix him to the mast by nailing him to it by a knife passed through his hand; flog him to the extent of three hundred to five hundred strokes, then pickle his bleeding mangled back; fling him ironed into the hold: there half-starve him till they met with a bare, barren, lonely rock upon which they would set and leave him. read how they treated the english at amboyna! no! i had the dutch of the seventeenth century to deal with in these men, not the hollanders of my day, borrowing fine airs from the germans and sweetening their throats with french _à la mode_ phrases. but how to escape them? there were moments when i paced my cabin like a madman and with a madman's thoughts in me too. i brought a haggard face with me to the breakfast table, and imogene surveyed me with an eye full of inquiry and anxiety. my thoughts, acting with my wakefulness, had told, and i fancied that even vanderdecken suffered his gaze to rest upon me as though he marked a change. van vogelaar's manner satisfied me that he had acted in his sleep or under some spell that stupefied the understanding whilst it gave the spirit full play, for he discovered nothing of that wonder and terror which had been visible in him when i entered the cabin after his former attempt to destroy me, which certainly had not been the case had he quitted my bedside in the belief that i was dead of my wounds. vanderdecken talked of the fair wind; a sort of satisfaction illuminated his sombre austerity; though his dignity was prodigious and his commanding manner full of an haughty and forbidding sternness, he was nevertheless politer to me than he had ever yet been, going to the length of talking about the food on the table, the excellent quality of the african guinea fowl and bustard, recommending me to taste of a dish of marmalade, and relating a story of a privateer having left behind him, in a ship he had clapt aboard of, a number of boxes which seemed to be full of marmalade, but which in reality were loaded with virgin silver. but it was the fair wind that produced this civility, though after last night's business 'twas welcome enough let the cause be what it would. no sooner had imogene and i a chance of speaking alone than she asked me what was the matter. i told her how van vogelaar had entered my cabin and stabbed at my bed. she turned white; her beautiful eyes grew large and bright with terror; she clasped her hands and for some moments could not speak. her agitation diminished, however, when she understood that van vogelaar walked in his sleep, though she was still very white when she cried: "if you had been sleeping when he entered you would now be dead!" i answered: "what he does in his sleep he may do awake. this action is like the whispers of a dreamer, babbling out his conscience. it is in his soul to kill me, and long thinking upon it has moved him to the deed in his sleep." "oh, geoffrey, did i not beg you to secure your door?" "ay--that shall be looked to in future, i warrant you. but why should this man, of all the others, especially thirst for my life? how have i wronged him?" she replied by pointing out that the crew of my ship had fired upon him; also that in the days of his natural life he was no doubt a villain at heart and that all the features of his devilish nature attended him through his doom; that being more jealous, rapacious and avaricious than the others, he might regard my presence as a menace to his share of the treasure, and hunger after my destruction; so that, come what might, i should never be able to report the wealth that lay in the ship's hold. there was no doubt my darling was right, impossible as i found it to reconcile these earthly and human passions and motives with his supernatural being; and particularly the indifference he exhibited on the previous evening when the frenchman came running us aboard, with his concern for his share in the gold, jewels and plate below. but i had long abandoned all speculation concerning what i must term the intellectual aspect of these miserable creatures. you will suppose that we found a fruitful text in this mate's somnambulistic attack upon me, and that we talked at great length about our chances of escape and the necessity van vogelaar's malignant hate put me under of inventing some method to deliver ourselves by, be the risks of it what they might. yet it was but talk. indeed, never did prisoners' outlook appear more hopeless. compared to this floating jail, compassed about by the mighty sea, the walls of a citadel were as paper, the bars of a dungeon's window as packthread. but the most bitter and invincible barrier of all was captain vanderdecken's resolution to carry imogene with him in this ship to amsterdam. chapter v. a tempest bursts upon us. i did not, as i had told imogene, need a second hint to secure my life by night, however it might fall out with me in the day. by looking about i met with a piece of ratline stuff which i hid in my cabin, and when the night came i secured one end to the hook of the door, passing the other end through the staple and then making it fast to my wrist; so that, the door being shut, no one could enter without tweaking or straining my arm with such violence as was sure to awake me. meanwhile the fair wind hung very steady, blowing about south, a pleasant breeze that yielded a pure blue sky and small puff-shaped clouds exceedingly white; the sea was also of a very lovely sapphire, twinkling and sparkling in the north like a sheet of silver cloth set a-trembling. the braave stole along softly, with but little seething and hissing noises about her now that her yards lay braced well in. i would think whilst i watched her flowing sheets, the long bosoms of her canvas swelling forwards with the slack bolt-ropes arched like a bow, and the mizzen rounding from its lateen yard, backed by the skeleton remains of the great poop lantern, that she needed but the bravery of fresh paint, a new ancient, pennons and streamers, bright pettararoes or swivels, glass for the lanterns and gilt for her galleries and beak, to render her as picturesque and romantic a vessel as ever sailed in that mighty procession, in whose van streamed the triumphant insignia of the great spanish, dutch and portuguese admirals. 'twas impossible to doubt that every man in the ship believed that he was going home this time. there was an air of alacrity in them that had never before been noticeable. they would look eagerly seawards over the bows, gazing thus for long minutes at a time. whenever the log was hove i'd mark one or more inquire the speed of the men who had held the reel or dragged in the line, as they went forward. they smoked incessantly, with an air of dull and heavy satisfaction in their faces. i observed a lifting, so to speak, of the stupor off vanderdecken. his trances--i mean those sudden fits of death-like insensibility which i can only liken to cataleptic attacks--were few, whence i concluded that his spirit, or whatever might be the nature of the essence that owned his great and majestical frame for a tabernacle--had gathered an increase of vitality from the invigorated hope and brisk desires which the fair wind had raised. in van vogelaar i witnessed no change. possibly the dark shadows of my fears being on him held him gloomy and malignant to my sight. likewise, i was careful to keep a wide space between us, save at meals, and never to have my back upon him, for to be sure, if i was to be murdered by the rogue, it should not be for the want of a bright look-out on my part. this state of things continued for three days. a powerful current runs to the westward in these seas, and adding its impulse to our progress, i calculated that in those seventy-two hours we made not less than an hundred and thirty-three leagues. as time passed my wonder increased, for though i knew not our position, and never durst ask vanderdecken what situation his dead-reckoning assigned us, i could not conceive--recollecting the place in which the saracen was when we sighted the death ship--that we had been blown, during the time i had been on board, into a very remote sea; and hence 'twas reasonable that i should think it wanted but a few days sailing after this pattern to carry us round the cape. therefore i say my wonder grew, for whilst it was impious to suppose that the devil could contrive that this ship should outwit the sentence, yet our steady progress caused me to waver in my faith in the stern assurance of the vessel's doom. i would say to imogene: "the breeze holds; see how steady is the look of the southern sky! is it possible that this wind will carry her round?" to which she would answer: "no, the change will come. oh, geoffrey, it will come, though no more than the ship's length lay between her and the limit which you believe the curse has marked out for her upon this sea." then i would agree with her. but afterwards, coming on deck in the afternoon, or next morning, and finding the death ship pushing along, her head pointing north-west, her sails full, the wake sliding away astern in a satin smoothness, wonder and doubt would again possess me, and twenty odd fancies occur, such as, "suppose the sentence has been remitted! suppose it be the will of heaven this ship should return to amsterdam, that a final expiation of vanderdecken's wrong-doing might be accomplished in his and his miserable crew's beholding with their own eyes the extinction of those houses they had yearned for, and the tombs--if aught of memorial in that way remain--of those hearts whose beating they hoped to feel upon their own?" such thoughts would set me talking to imogene. "conceive of this ship's arrival in the texel! what consternation, what astonishment would she arouse! what mighty crowds would flock to view her!" and in the hurry and ardency of my imagination, i would go on figuring the looks and behaviour of the people as our ghastly crew stepped ashore, asking one and another after their wives and children, those alidas, geertruidas, titias, emelies, cornelias, johannas, fedoras, engelinas, and christinas, and those antonys, hendricks, jans, tjaarts, lodewyks, abrahams, willems, peters, and fredericks, whose very memory, let alone their dust, was as utterly gone as the ashes in any pipe forward there when the fire had been tapped out of the bowl overboard. during the night of the third day the wind held steadily. i left the deck a little before midnight, having passed some hours of the darkness in the company of my love, and our sails were then full with the prosperous wind, the ship passing along over the quiet sea in a great shadow, the stars very piercing, and the light of their colours sharp and lovely; but on coming from my cabin next morning, i found the breeze gone; the ship was rolling upon a swell coming with some power from the westwards; and the dead cloths of the canvas striking a small thunder into the motionless air as they beat against the masts with the weary, monotonous swaying of those spars. the change had come! the swell was full of foreboding; it was as my heart had foreseen, spite of the wonder and inventions of my imagination; but nevertheless, the perception of that polished sea heaving into the dimness of the distant sky, the sight of the deadness of the calm that had slued the death ship till her sprit-topsail veiled and disclosed the oozing sun as she bowed with her beak pointing into the east, brought a disappointment that sickened me to the soul. "great god," i cried within myself, "is this experience to end only with my death!" and i entered the cabin in so melancholy a mood that i could scarce hold up my head for the heaviness in my eyes and brain. imogene was alone. i kissed her hand and fondled it. she instantly observed my depression, and said, gently, "i feared this calm would dishearten you. but it was inevitable, dear. it was impossible a change of some kind should be delayed." "yes, but it breaks me down to think of another long, soul-starving, stormy drive into the south-east, another terrible spell of vanderdecken's savage manners--of van vogelaar's murderous attempts, and of the hopelessness afterwards. oh, my love! the hopelessness afterwards!--when the weather breaks and the wind blows fair again. will it never end?" she cast her eyes down with a swift motion of her finger to her lips. i turned, as vanderdecken approached. the darkness of his inward rage lay heavy upon the folds of his brow; 'tis no exaggeration to apply to his appearance the strong words of beaumont: "there are a thousand furies in his looks, and in his deadly silence more loud horror than, when in hell, the tortur'd and tormentors contend whose shrieks are greatest!" he came without speaking to his chair, turning his fiery eyes from imogene to me without saluting us. a moment after van vogelaar arrived. we took our places, but none spoke. one side-long look the mate darted at me under his parchment-coloured lids, and malice and hate were strong in it. i could see that imogene was awed and terrified by the captain's manner. you dreaded to hear him speak. his stillness was that of a slowly ripening tempest and his sultry, forbidding, darkening bearing seemed to thicken the very atmosphere about him till you drew your breath with labour. he drank a silver cupfull of wine, but ate nothing. the mate on the other hand plied his knife and fork with a surly heartiness. for my part, i felt as though a mouthful must choke me; yet i made out to eat that these men should not think i was afraid. i believe imogene would have gone to her cabin but for her anxiety to support and encourage me, so to say, by her presence. "what horrible curse do we carry in this ship," presently exclaimed vanderdecken, speaking with a hoarse muttering that had no note of the familiar melodious richness, "that all winds which might blow us westwards die before the meridian of agulhas is reached? what is there in these masts to poison the breeze? do we spread sails woven in the devil's loom? have we a jonah among us?" "skipper!" cried van vogelaar, "is it herr fenton, think you? measure the luck he carries by what hath happened since he has been in this ship. six days of storm!" he held up his fingers with a furious gesture. "twice, in a few hours, have our lives, our treasure, our ship been imperilled! note, now, this westerly swell, this stagnant atmosphere, and a dimness in the west that will have grown into storm and wind ere the afternoon watch be ended." "he speaks to my prejudice," i exclaimed, addressing vanderdecken; "let him be candid. his tongue is injurious to the hollander's love of honour. mynheer, consider: he talks of the six days of storm--that weather had been brewed before my ship sighted yours. of the english man-of-war and the french pirate; why not of the wreck that yielded you a bountiful store of needful things? he knows--as you do, herr vanderdecken, that englishmen--least of all english mariners--are not among those who practise sorcery. this change is the concern of that being who has yet to judge this man. if he charges me with the control of the elements, then, by the majesty of heaven, he basely lies even in his rash and impious effort to do me, a weak and erring mortal, honour!" with which i turned upon the villain and stared at him with eyes fuller of more potent fury flashed into them by the rage of my healthy, earthly manhood than could possibly possess him out of that dusty sepulchre of his body which lived by the curse alone. he shrunk away from me, looking at his skipper. "captain vanderdecken," broke in the sweet voice of imogene, "you will not let herr van vogelaar's intemperate accusations influence your love of justice. herr fenton is not accountable for this calm; 'tis monstrous to suppose it. charge me sooner with witchcraft; i have been longer in this ship than he; in that time you have met many adverse winds; and if his being an englishman is his wrong, hold me also answerable for the failure of your hopes, since i am english too!" he looked at her, then at me, then back to her, and methought her beauty coloured the stormy cloud of his expression with a light of its own, not softening it, but robbing it somewhat of its terror. he moved his lips, talking to himself, folded his arms and leaned back, staring straight up at the deck. i fancied by saying more yet i could mend my case, and would not meet imogene's eye for fear of being checked. "captain vanderdecken, i am here as a shipwrecked man--dependent upon your generosity as a fellow-being, of which you have given me so abundant an illustration that my heart sinks when i consider that i am too poor to make you any return saving in thanks. had i tenfold the powers your mate imputes to me, could i work you evil? give me the control of the wind, and such a gale would follow this ship that you should be speedily counting the date of your arrival at amsterdam in hours. is it reasonable that i should seek to delay this voyage? i, who have but these clothes in which i stand--who am divorced from my home--who am helpless and defenceless among the enemies of my country--among men from whom i should have nothing to hope if they had not long given the world to know that their generosity as foes is alone equalled by their heroism as mariners!" he had slowly turned his eyes upon me when i began to speak, and now made a haughty gesture with his hand as if bidding me hold my peace. and perhaps my conscience felt the rebuke, though he merely designed to let me know that i had said enough; for, between ourselves, i had as little opinion of dutch generosity as i had of dutch valour, and should have despised myself for this flattering had i been talking to human beings. happily nothing more came of the tempest that lay muzzled in the captain's breast. whether my standing up for myself, my heated manner towards his mate, gave a new turn to his mood, he did not speak again of the change of weather, and as speedily as ceremony would permit, i got up, made my bow, and went on deck. the appearance in the west was sullen enough, though merely with a faintness there that was unrelieved by any edging or shouldering outline of cloud. a few patches of vapour lay streaked along the sky, otherwise the heavens hovered in an unstained hollow, but of a faded, watery blue, unwholesome and with a sort of blindness of fog in it; and up in the north-east hung the sun, shorn of his rays, a squeezed yet uncompacted mass of dazzle, like as i have seen him show when setting in a belt of vapour that has not entirely hid him, and casting a wake as dim as burning oil. the swell had grown in weight even while we had been breaking our fast. there being not the faintest draught of air to steady the vessel--no, not so much as to put the most delicate curl of shadow upon the heads of the muddy-blue, grease-smooth, liquid roundings which came with a sulky brimming to the channels. she rolled with stupid heaviness, her sails rattling like a discharge from great ordnance, and a sort of song-like cries twanging out from the sharp fierce strains put upon the shrouds and backstays, and many noises in her hold. you would have thought that her huge round-tops and heavy furniture of spar and rigging would have given some regularity to her pendulous swaying: but the contrary was the case, her action being so jerky, abrupt, and unforegatherable by the legs, that walking was impossible. i passed the morning partly on deck, partly in the cabin, nearly all the while in imogene's society, vanderdecken's passionate mood being too vehement to suffer him to notice either me or my dearest. indeed, i sought the cabin chiefly to remove myself from his sight, for as the weather darkened round his wrath mounted with it--visible in his tempestuous stridings, and above all, in the flaming and cursing eyes he would again and again level at the heavens; and i sometimes felt that nothing less than my life might be the forfeit of my even provoking his regard and constraining his attention to me in his present satanic posture of mind. when the dinner hour came, he fiercely ordered prins to bring him some drink on deck: he could not eat. all the morning he had been directing his gaze into the south and north and east for any blurr of the polished folds that should exhibit movement in the air in those quarters; and from the undulating sea-line, which he searched in vain, his eyes seemed to reel with the very sickness of wrath into the west where, as i knew, the curse was busy. imogene and i were as mute as images at table. we had agreed not to utter a syllable whilst the mate was present, and some time before he had finished his meal, we left the cabin for the quarter-deck, where we sat hidden from vanderdecken, who marched about the poop near the tiller, with a tread whose echo rang through the solid deck, and with a mien that made me ready to witness him at any minute repeat, waking and sensible, the horrid blasphemous part he had performed in his sleep. the faintness in the west deepened into thickness. the atmosphere grew hot, and the fanning of the canvas that had before filled the decks with chilling draughts became a refreshment. by two o'clock in the afternoon the heads and shoulders of ponderous storm-clouds had shaped themselves above the dingy blueish obscurity in the west; they jutted up with a ghastly sheen of sickly bronze upon their peaks and brows and made a very frightful appearance. you would have thought there was a great motionless fold of heat suspended, viewless, in the middle of the heavens, and that it was magnetically drawing up volumes of black fumes from some pestilential land lying hidden behind the sea. the strange light, rusty with the ominous storm-tinge, made the sea appear round and hard, cheating the eye with the illusive complexion, till the eastern sea-line looked thirty leagues distant, and not closer westwards either, spite of its fading out in a jumble of ugly shadow that way. the sky still had a dirty sort of blue where the sun went out behind it, and i tell you 'twas scaring to find him sunk out of sight in a kind of ether whose hue, deceptive as it was, caused it to look clear enough for him to float in. it was in its way a sheer drowning of the luminary, like the foundering of a flaming fabric in the sea. the gloom stole gradually into darkness as though some giant hand was warily drawing a sable curtain over our mastheads. never did i watch the growth of a storm with such awe as now filled me. to my alarmed sight, the gathering seemed like an embodiment of the curse in dreadful, swelling, livid vapours, whose dull hectic, whose sallow bronze glaring out of the murkiness, showed like the overflowing of the blue and scarlet and sunlight fires pent up in those teeming surcharged bosoms. my plain sense assured me that the tempest could not hold for this death ship the menace that would render its aspect terrifying to the mariner on board an earthly craft; yet it was impossible for my instincts as a seaman to accommodate themselves to the supernatural conditions which begirt me, and i found myself trembling for the safety of the ship when i discovered that the tempest was suffered to grow without an order being given to the men to shorten sail and prepare for it. i left imogene and stepped furtively along the quarter-deck to command the poop, and saw vanderdecken standing aft, surveying the storm with his arms folded, his chin depressed, and his face staring out ashenly against the gloom. i watched him for some minutes, but never once did he stir. arents and van vogelaar were on the other side of the deck, leaning over the rail, gazing at god knows what, but never speaking as i could be sure in the silence that rested upon the ship. the men hung about in groups forward; mere cunningly devised shapes of human beings without the faintest stir of restlessness among them. many of them smoked, and the pale wreaths went from their paler lips into the air straight as staffs. "imogene, look at that sky!" i whispered, "did mortal ever behold the like of it?" 'twas two o'clock; a tempest-coloured twilight, in which the sails to the flattened swell swayed like visionary wings grown languid with long flight, and feebly hovering and almost noiselessly beating over the ship; out of the gloom over the side came now and again the yearning moan of water, foamlessly laving the bends and run of the vessel; in each death-like pause you heard the silence tingling in the air with the low phantasmal muttering of a weltering sea, a sound as of an imagination of unreal breakers upon a faery shore. with hands clasped upon my arm, my darling looked as i pointed. in the extreme west the shade of the heavens was a sort of dismal slate, and there was an incessant winking of lightning all about it, like a mad dancing of stars of piercing brilliance; this enlarged into dense masses of dark vapour streaked as sand is ribbed by the action of surf; then zenith-wards was a space of faint green sky, very dim as though beheld through smoke, and past this lay a floating body of thin vapour thickening over our mastheads into an amazing appearance of clouds like to the bush that shags the new holland slopes, merging eastwards into a vast array of clouds twisted into the aspect of whirlpools, and in their brooding motionlessness resembling vortices suddenly arrested when most madly gyrating. but this description, though imitated to the life, conveys not the least idea of the horrid appearance of that sky, for there is nothing in words to express the effect upon the mind of the contrast of the several shades of colour all combinating to fill the sea with a malignant hue, and the keen throbbing of the lightning low down, the washing sweep of the sick and ghastly ocean into the western dusk, the stooping soot of the vaporous maelstroms overhead, only waiting, as it seemed, for some storm-signal to start off every one of them into a very madness of revolution, boiling out into wet and crimsoned tempests. after a little all these appearances melted into one great cloud of an indigo tint, ridged with layers of black vapour and blackening into very midnight on the western seaboard where the lightning was shooting. the sea had strangely flattened; the weighty swells which had precoursed the growth of the storm had run away down the eastern waters; it was as though the hot heaviness of the rising and spreading blackness had pressed down the ocean into a smooth plain. as not an order had yet been given, not a clewline nor a halyard touched, i had made up my mind to presently behold an astonishing exhibition of magic; that is to say, i was to witness a sudden violent blast of storm strike this death ship with every sail she carried abroad, and no harm to come to her from it. all at once there was a great stroke of lightning that flashed up the heavy oppressive obscurity, and the whole ship leapt to the eye in a blaze of emerald fire. there fell a few huge drops of rain, covering the decks with circles as big as saucers. a sullen shock of thunder boomed in a single report out of the west, and then it was that the voice of vanderdecken rang out like a vibratory echo of the deep storm-note that had died away. "clew up the topsails and topgallant sails!" "in sprit-sail and get the yard fore and aft!" "some hands this way and stow the mizzen!" "lower the main-yard and furl the sail!" "stand by to double reef the fore-course!" these and other orders he delivered one by one, and they were repeated by the two mates and the boatswain. i cannot believe that any fantastic vision was ever wilder, stranger, more impressive than the picture offered by the death ship when her men went to work to snug her down. their mechanically-moving shapes hauling upon the ropes, running like shadows along the decks, vanishing in the sullen, swarming thickness as they mounted the shrouds, every man as silent as a spectre; the fitful trembling out of the whole vessel to the white and green and violet glimmer of the yet distant lightning; the dark sea dimly glancing into a kind of light, wan and indeterminable as the sheen of stars in polished steel, under the play of those western glitterings; the blackness overhead now settled down to the eastern seaboard, over the horizon of which there yet hovered a streak of dusty green--it was a spectacle to need the hand of dante or milton. compar'd to these storms, death is but a qualm, hell somewhat lightsome, the bermudas calm; darkness, light's eldest brother, his birthright claims o'er the world! it was as black as night. what the men were about, with what dispatch they worked, it was impossible to see. no songs or cries came from them to enable me to guess their movements. if ever imogene and i exchanged a word it was in a whisper, so heart subduing was the darkness and the horrible element of suspense and uncertainty in it. i had her close to the cabin-front under the poop, ready for the shelter of it at the outburst. ten minutes went by, and then it seemed to me as if a deeper shade yet had penetrated the darkness. suddenly, i heard a far-off humming noise, a kind of growling sound, not to be likened to thunder, though you seemed to catch the note of that too in the multitudinous crying. it was as if the denizens of a thousand forests were flying before the roaring of a tornado among the trees, every savage beast raising its own savage cry as it went, the whole uproar so remote as to resemble a mountain's reverberation of the horrible clamour leagues and leagues distant inland. "what is that?" cried imogene. ere i could speak, the heavens were split in twain by a blast of lightning that looked to fly like a dazzling shaft of flame from the north sheer over our mastheads into the south. it was almost instantly followed by a crash of thunder, ear-splitting as the explosion of the batteries of a dozen first-rates all discharged at one moment. and then fell the rain in a whole body of water, charged with hailstones as big as pigeon's eggs. the fall raised such an uproar on our decks that you looked to see the whole substantial fabric shattered by it. the surface of the sea foamed in fire to that lashing of water and hail. there was now a perpetual blaze of lightning, but the thunder merely deepened the prodigious noise of the rushing wet without, its claps being distinguishable in the dreadful tumult. we had immediately withdrawn to the cabin, and closing the door, stood looking on through the window. the decks were full of water, which, cascading through the ports and all other freeing orifices, added its roaring to the other notes of the tempest. the ship seemed on fire to as high as we could see with the hellish and continual flaming of the lightning. 'twas of several colours, and in the same breath you saw spars, rigging, bulwark-rails, all blazing out as though lumined with brushes dipped in blue and crimson, and star-white and yellow and dark violet fires. but no wind as yet; not a breath! that i could tell by the droop of the fore-course hanging by its gear, and faintly fanning dark and wet from its yard. but i knew it could not be far off. those sounds i had heard as of a thousand affrighted wild beasts were--my ear well knew the noise--the echoings high in the middle air of a prodigious wind bellowing as it swept the ocean into white rage. my heart beat swiftly; all was so fearfully real that i could not grasp the supernatural conditions of the life of this ship and crew, which had otherwise assured me that the curse that triumphed over the monarch death must be superior to the wildest hurricane that ever piled the ocean into mountains. "hark!" i exclaimed, "it is upon us!" and as i spoke the gale smote us like a bolt from heaven, falling upon us with a long and frightful scream and amid a volley of lightning that made the sky a blinding purple dazzle from sea-line to sea-line. i held with both hands to one side of the frame of the window, and imogene, half-swooning with terror, lay against me, nothing but my body saving her from being dashed against the side of the cabin. such was the sharpness of the angle to which the first frenzy of the liberated hurricane heeled the vessel, that for some minutes i veritably believed she was foundering. the ocean boiled in a flat plain of froth, and the ship lay steady upon the enraged whiteness, with the rail of her bulwarks under, and you heard amid the seething and shrill shrieking of the wind, the sound of the water pouring on to her decks over the upper and quarter-deck and forecastle-rails, as the cataract thunders, coiling with a pure head, over the edge of some rocky abrupt. if i had opened the door--if indeed i could have taken action on that violent headlong steep of deck--it would have merely been to drown the cabin and imogene and myself. there was nothing to be done but attend the issue, and for several minutes, i say, i stood holding on, my dearest clasping me and so supporting herself, scarce knowing whether the vessel was under water or not, unable to speak for the horrible clamour without, the lightning continuously holding the fabric visible through the window in its mani-coloured blaze, and the enduring steadiness of the hull upon the flat foam putting a terror into the situation you would not have remarked in her labouring in a hollow sea. presently, to my great joy, i perceived that she was recovering her upright posture. they had succeeded in getting her to pay off, and after a little, giving her tall stem to the gale, she went before it as upright as a church, the water on her decks pouring away overboard, the piercing fury of the wind robbed to the extent of the velocity with which the vessel drove, and no other sound rising up off the sea but the amazing hissing of foam. "curse or no curse," said i, "vanderdecken knows his business as a sailor, and call me a dutchman if here has not been a noble stroke of seamanship!" "wy zyn al verdomd!" said the parrot. chapter vi. we spring a leak. i never remember the like of such a storm as this in these seas, though i have made the passage of the cape four times and have met some frightful weather off the great agulhas bank. amazing suddenness and violence in the first bursting of a storm you have reason to expect in the inter-tropical regions eastwards of the african continent, but not down here. captain george bonny, of the ship elizabeth tudor, is the only person that i am acquainted with who has had experience of so sudden a tempest as i have attempted to describe off this african headland; and who is to say that he had not happened upon the neighbourhood of the death ship and unwottingly tasted somewhat of the doom of that vessel, whose passage over the limits of her fate the storm the elizabeth tudor encountered was designed to furiously arrest? be this as it will. i passed from the cabin into as raging and affrighting a scene as was ever witnessed in any ocean. the sky was made unearthly by the flashes of lightning, whose blinding leaps seemed to bring the blackness down like a wall upon the eyes, and if ever an interval lasted long enough to suffer the light to resume its powers, then you found that blackness horrible with the unspeakable shade it took from the plain of boiling froth that stretched like a world covered with snow to the sea-girdle, fading from startling, staring, glaring whiteness around us into a pallid, ghastly dimness, where it sank and melted into the levin-riven inky folds. i struggled on to the poop and crawled on my hands and knees to the little deck-house, against the foremost end of which i stationed myself; and here i was protected from the rain and wind. straight as an arrow over the seething smother the death ship was running, and her keel slided smooth as a sledge through the feathery surface. the tempest lay like a red-hot iron sheet upon the waters, making it boil and furiously hiss, but stifling all life of billow, ay, of ripple even, out of it. the men had contrived to shorten sail down to the double-reefed fore-course, and under that strip of curved and lifted canvas--a steel-hard belly, black as a cloud against the white water beyond the bows--the ship was driving, three men at the great tiller, and others attending the tackles attached to it. with every blue or green or yellow flash, you saw the rain sweeping along in crystal lines, complexioned by the electric dartings, now like silver wire, now as if the heavens were shedding blood. 'twas like a sea of water in the wind, and the shrill harsh singing of it above, and the vehement sobbing of it upon the decks, were sounds of themselves amid the universal shrieking and hissing. there was an incessant explosion of thunder, sometimes right overhead, the echoes answering in volleys, and the rattling sharper than the speaking of great guns in mountain scars and hollows. the dazzling play made a fiery tapestry of the scene, and the flying ship came and went in flames, leaping out of the black tempest, then vanishing like a burning shape, eclipsed and revealed by the speeding of sooty vapours. amid these fierce swift shinings i would catch sight of the towering form of vanderdecken standing at the mizzen-rigging, one hand on a shroud or backstay, sloping his figure against the tempest and his beard blown straight out before him. the others being abaft the little house i could not see. the scene now did indeed astonishingly realise the doubtful traditions which depicture the flying dutchman perpetually sailing amid storm. since i had been on board i had viewed her in many conditions of weather; but though her supernatural qualities and characteristics best appeared when they stole out to the faint, waving silver of the moonshine trembling along the oil-like blackness of a midnight calm, yet she could never be more impressive than when, as she was now, fleeing like a witch driven mad by pursuing demons, whose numbers darkened the heavens, the lightning streaming about her like ordnance in titanic hands fired to bring her to, all her rigging in a scream as she ran, showing in the spaces of dusk betwixt the flashes a great, black, phantasmal shape upon the floor of ringing and frenzied whiteness which the tempest swept along with her, and which broke not therefore in the lightest curl from her stern, nor yielded a hand's-breadth of wake. she was flying dead into the east, and every minute her keel passed over as many fathoms of sea as would take her hours of plying to recover. i frequently directed my eyes at vanderdecken, suspecting his wrath, and prepared for a tragical exhibition, whose furiousness should be in awful correspondence with this insanity of sea and sky, but had the life been struck out of him as he stood there his posture could not have been more fixed and unmoving. it was, however, impossible for such wind as this to blow many minutes without raising a sea. the increased soaring and falling of the black wing of canvas forward against the boiling that rose in a faintness of spume and lustre of its own into the air denoted the gradual hollowing of the water, and then no sooner had the talons of the storm succeeded in scooping shallow troughs out of the levelness of foaming snow than the surge grew magically. every liquid side was shouldered by the tempest into hills, and the hills swelled into such mountains as you must come down into these seas to behold the like of. half-an-hour after the first of the hurricane the ship was plunging and laying along amid a very cauldron of infuriate waters, scarcely visible amid the fleecy fog of spray, heights of the sea reaching to her tops, spouting their prodigious lengths alongside, sometimes tumbling in thunder upon her forward decks, sometimes curling in blown snakings ahead of her. heavy as had been some of the hours of my first six days of storm, the wildest of that time was but as a feather to the weight of this tempest. the lightning ceased, and but for the evening that was now descending, and that had put the shadow of night into the shade of the storm, the heavens must have shown somewhat pale by the thinning of the electrical vapour; but this scarce perceptible clearance did but leave larger room for the wind, and it was now blowing with extraordinary spite. it would be impossible for the ship to run long before the swollen acclivities, whose foaming heads appeared to brush the black ceiling under which they coursed as they arched in the wake of the vessel's narrow stern, and methought they would have to bring her to speedily if she was not to be pooped and swept and smothered. even whilst i thus considered, the tempestuous voice of vanderdecken swept in a roar along the deck. "settle away the fore-yard and secure the sail!" "some men aft here to the mizzen and show the foot of it as she rounds!" 'twas more like the spiriting of canvas than the hands of men going prosaically to work on jeers and clew-garnets when the fore-yard slowly slided down to the bulwark-rails, and the sail was smothered as though frapped by airy fingers forked out of the whirling dusk. some of the crew with glimmering faces came crawling aft, probing the solid substance of the wind with figures bowing sheer into it, and all in silence the helm was put down amid a sudden mad flogging of liberated cloths aft, and the ship lying along gave her round bow and side to the seas which flashed in storms of water over her as she met them to the pressure of the hard-over rudder. once with the sea fair upon the bow, the ancient structure rose as buoyantly as a wooden castle to the heave of the mighty surge, for all her labouring with full decks and the veiling of her by clouds and storms of spray. but had her situation looked to be one of frightful and imminent peril, i must by this time have viewed it with unconcern. the sense of the curse that held the ship vital was strong in me. out of the first terrific blast of the hurricane 'twas odds if the newest and stoutest ship could have emerged without damage, supposing she had not been sunk outright; yet did this vessel survive that fearful outfly, aged as she was. not a yarn of her old ropes broken, nor a spar nor yard, whose rottenness caused them to glow in the dark, sprung or strained; more staunchly than could have been possible to her, even in the hour of her launch, did she breast the great black seas which swept her to their mountain-tops with yelling rigging and masts aslant, to hurl her a breathless moment afterwards into stagnant valleys, echoing the thunder of the gale that touched not their depths. i quitted the deck and returned to imogene in the cabin. the lighted lamp swung wildly, and though the uproar of the tempest was muffled below, yet the noise of straining was so great that i had to put my lips close to my dear girl's ear to make myself heard. i gave her a description of the sea, acquainted her with the posture in which the ship lay, and told her that the incredible violence of the storm was promise enough that it would not endure; though it was horrible to think of the miles we had been forced to run into the eastwards, and of the leagues off our course the drift of the ship, even in twelve hours, would compel us to measure. prins came to inquire if we would eat. we answered "no." that evening was the most dismal i had ever spent in the accursed ship. i held my sweetheart's hand, and speech being, as i have said, as good as impossible, i afflicted myself with a thousand miserable thoughts and dark and ugly fancies. great heaven! with what loathing did i regard the sickly mask of the ship's side, the gloomy ovals, the ghastly revelry of the lantern's colours flashing to the prodigious swinging of the tempest-tossed fabric! and from time to time the parrot, affrighted by the noises and by the dashing of her cage against the bulkhead, burst suddenly out with her horrid croak of "wy zyn al verdomd!" neither vanderdecken nor his mate came below. nothing could better have illustrated their ignorance of their true state than the anxieties which held them to the deck in the heart of that raging wind. their solicitude might indeed deserve another name for the impious passions which informed it, yet it had a character sailorly enough to make it intelligible to human sympathy, and 'twas truly soul-subduing to sit in that cabin and hear the uproar of the tormented waters without, the outcry in the rigging, the straining and groaning below, and think of those men--of vanderdecken, at all events--watching his ship as though batavia were but six weeks distant and amsterdam a certain port presently. at half-past nine imogene withdrew. i led her to her cabin door, tenderly kissed her, then returning called for a cup of spirits and water and went to my sleeping place. i thought to have stayed a minute on deck to look about me, but the wind came with so much fury of wet in it that, having no mind to turn in with drenched clothes, i hastily raised the hatch and dropped below. i believe i lay awake the greater part of the night. my memory is not clear owing to the confusion my brain was in. it was not only a feeling akin to conviction that my fate was sealed, that my dearest and i were never to be rescued nor suffered to deliver ourselves from this death ship, though to be sure such apprehensions, so keen and fierce, might have caused a stouter mind than mine to fall distraught, the movements of the ship were so excessive, being very high, light and broad, and the seas so extraordinarily hollow, that, without disordering me with sickness, they wrought an alarming giddiness in me, and i lay as one in a sort of fit. in some such condition as this i languished, i believe, through the greater part of the night, but contrived to snatch sleep enough to refresh me, so that when i awoke i felt better, the dizziness gone and with it something of the distress of mind. the action of the ship showed that the gale was considerably abated, but i had no sooner my senses than i took notice of an unusual sound, like a slow and measured beating in the ship, as though some stout fellow with a heavy mallet regularly struck a hollow object in the hold. this excited my curiosity, and i went on deck. the moment my head was through the hatch i saw what produced the noise. the men were pumping. there was but one pump seemingly that would work, and this four seamen were plying, the water gushing freely from the pipe and washing away overboard through the scuppers. the old engine made so melancholy and uncommon a sound that i might have lain a week in my bed speculating upon it, without even hitting the truth. i took notice that the water came up clear and bright as glass, a sure sign that it was entering freely. a sullen shade still hung in the weather, the sky was of slate, with a small scud flying under it of the hue of sulphur, but the breeze was no more than a fresh gale of which we were making a fair wind, the yards braced very nearly square, and the braave sulkily swinging through it with a noise of boiling at her bows. i was not a little excited by this combination of glass-bright gushing and square yards, and after going forward for the comfort and sweetness of a canvas bucketful of salt water foaming like champagne as i lifted it out of the snow-flaked, dark-green surge, i walked on to the poop, where stood arents alone, and stepped up to the binnacle. the card made a west-north-west course, the wind on the larboard quarter. i ran my eye over the sea, but the olive-complexioned hue worked with a sulky sinuosity naked against the livid shadow, and the deep looked indescribably gloomy and swollen and confused, though the sun had been risen above half-an-hour. arents was not a man i held in awe, albeit many might have deemed his unearthly pallor more dreadful than most of the others because of the great breadth of fat and hairless face it overlay; yet i was determined not to question him lest he should repulse me. i therefore contented myself with a short salute and lay over the rail watching the swollen bodies of water and wondering what plan vanderdecken was now upon, until the chimes of the clock in the cabin made me know it was breakfast time. the captain came to the table with a stern and bitter expression in his countenance. it was possible he had been on deck throughout the greater part of the night, but he exhibited no trace of the fatigue you would expect to see in one that was of this earth. methought, as i glanced at him, that sleep must be a mockery to these men, who, being deathless, stood in no need of that repose which counterfeiting death, reinvigorates our perishable frame every morning with a quickening as of a resurrection. what has one to whom the grave is denied to do with slumber? yet if a whiter pallor was possible in vanderdecken i fancied i witnessed it in him now. his eyes were angry and bright; the skin of his forehead lay in folds upon his heavy brows, and yet there was the stillness of a vitality, numbed or blasted by disappointment or exhausted by passion, in his manner. van vogelaar did not arrive, maybe he was sleeping, with arents' leave, well into his watch on deck. imogene had a wan and drooping look. she answered my concerned gaze by saying she had not slept, and she smiled as she spoke, but never more sadly to my knowledge; it seemed but as a light playing over and revealing her melancholy. lovely she appeared, but too fragile for my peace, and with too much of the sorrowful sweetness of the moon-lily when it hangs down its white beauty and contracts its milky petals into leanness with the waning of the silver orb it takes its name from. suddenly she pricked her ears. "what is that sound?" she exclaimed, in english. "it is the seamen pumping the water out of the ship," i replied. "strange!" she said. "long before dawn i heard it indistinctly and have ever since been listening to it with a languid, drowsy wonder, not imagining its nature. it has been working continuously. is there water in the ship?" "i have not dared inquire," i answered, with a side-long look at vanderdecken, who ate mechanically without heeding us. "captain," she said, softly, touching him on the arm with her hand, which glittered with his jewels, "the men have been pumping for some hours--why? will you tell me?" he brought his eyes slowly to hers with a blank look that caused her to repeat her question. whereupon he answered: "the heavy working of the ship in the small hours has caused her to start a butt or hidden end." "she is leaking?" he answered: "yes, my child." "can the leak be stopped?" she asked, encouraged to these questions by my glances. "no, 'tis below her water-line. but it does not gain. continuous pumping keeps the water level. we shall have to careen to get at the leak." "are we sailing to the coast?" she asked. "yes," he answered. chapter vii. imogene fears for me. on hearing that we were sailing to the coast my delight was so keen that i came near to suffocating myself by the sudden checking of the shout of joy that rose to my throat like an hysteric throttling thickness in the windpipe. to be sure, had anyone asked what there was in the news to fill me with this transport i should not have been able to offer a sufficient reason, for it was not as though vanderdecken meant to steer for a port. i was sensible that he would head for some desolate bay upon a hot shore of sand, backed by great mountains, and leagues distant from any settlement, whether dutch or british. yet so great had been the depression excited by the tempest and the barrenness of our chances, that the mere circumstance of a change having come about, the mere happening of a departure from our rueful business of beating to the windward, raised my spirits to a very great height; nor must it be forgotten that though i conjectured in darkness, i had for a long time felt persuaded that if ever we were to remove ourselves from the death ship, the only opportunity that could offer would attend our dropping anchor off the african coast. i will not say that vanderdecken did not observe the change in my countenance when he made his answer to imogene. but whatever might have been his reflections they were concealed by his frowning brow and the dark and stormy shadow of passion upon his face. he ceased to speak when she ceased to question, and went on deck without calling for his usual pipe of tobacco, which was a very remarkable illustration in him of his wrath and concern. "dearest," said i, going to imogene's side, "it has been a dark and cheerless night with you i fear. would to god it were this day in my power to give redness to the roses that now lie white in your cheeks. yet this is great news that vanderdecken has given us." she smiled in a questioning way. "why," said i, answering her, "'tis very certain that we shall never escape from this death ship whilst she sails the seas. but though i could not here say for the life of me what the land may do for us, i feel that the coming to an anchor close to it may give us a chance, and it will go hard indeed if a sailor's cunning, sharpened by despair, does not contrive some remedy for this horrible enthralment." she mused a little and said, "geoffrey, i have made up my mind to this: if you can carry me away with you i will go--whatever resolution you may form will be mine, as shall be your fortune. but, dearest," says she, smiling to my grasp of her hand, "i am also determined that your liberty shall not depend upon my escape; if you are able to get away alone, but not with me, then i stay." "ah!" said i, shaking my head, "your gaze cannot have sunk very deep into me or you would not talk thus." she put her finger upon my lip. "geoffrey, consider this. you are a man, you are young, the world is before you, liberty is your precious jewel--nay, you have a home and a mother to return to. i am an orphan--lonely in this great world of water as any sea-bird that solitarily follows our ship. i sometimes feel that there is a cold hand on my heart and that my time is not long. if it is to be my destiny to remain in this vessel, i am too certain of a short residence to fear it." she stopped suddenly and wept. we were alone, and i took her in my arms. i saw how it was with her, how the fear of the tempest, how sleeplessness, had wrought in her delicate health and depressed her powers, and i comforted and cherished her as my heart's love best knew how; yet her foreboding concerning her time in this world struck a chill into my blood, for it just then found solemn accentuation in her unusual pallor, her languid eyelids, the sadness of her smile, her low voice and tears. however, i borrowed comfort from the reflection that the health of the heartiest maiden might well fail in such an existence as this girl passed, spite of the wine-like invigoration of the salt winds; that she had survived hard upon five years of experiences so wild and amazing that a few weeks had tended not a little to pale my own face and even rob me of something of my manhood; that it was inevitable she should break down from time to time, but that her sweetness would soon bloom and be coloured into a loveliness of health when this death ship had become a thing of the past, and when i had safely lodged her as my bride in my mother's pretty home, with flower-gardens and fields to wander in, upon floors unrocked by billows, in rooms irradiated at night by fires never more mystical than the soft flame of oil or the silver of star and moonshine. the weather brightened as the day advanced. by noon the sky had broken into lagoons of blue, with fine large clouds that rained here and there upon the horizon and filled the air down there with broken shafts of rainbow, like to windgalls, only that the colours were very sharp and even glorious. there was now plenty of sunshine to give life and splendour to the ocean, whose dye of azure looked the purer and more sparkling for its cleansing by the great wind and rain and fire-bolts of the past night. the swell of the sea was from the southward, no longer a turbulent movement, but a regular respiratory action, with weight and volume yet that made you think of the deep as a sentient thing, with something of the violence of its hellish conflict yet lurking in its rhythmic breathing. about this hour a number of whales showed their black, wet backs at the distance of a mile. the sunshine turned their spoutings into very beautiful fountains, which fell in showers of diamonds and rubies and emeralds; and their great shapes and solemn movements, with now and again the dive of one with a breathless lingering of tail that showed like a gigantic fan of ebony, or the rise of another, floating its sparkling blackness above the violet fold of a brimming swell, as though a little island had been hove to the surface by some deep-sea convulsion, afforded imogene and me some twenty minutes of very agreeable diversion. the wind was a trifle to the southward of west, a brisk breeze, and the ship swarmed and swirled and rolled along at a speed of some five or six marine miles in the hour, every cloth abroad and already dried into its usual dingy staring tones. but the pump was worked without intermission. the clanging of the brake upon its pin, the gushing of the bright water flowing to the scuppers and flooding the deck thereabouts with every roll, the hissing of the slender cascades over the side, grew into sounds as familiar as the creaking of the bulkheads, or the cries of the rudder upon its ancient rusty pintles. those pumping gangs made a strange, mysterious sight. they toiled, but their labour was not that of living seamen who change their posture again and again, who let go an instant with one hand to smear the sweat from their brows or to bite an end of tobacco, who break into choruses as they ply their arms or growl out curses upon this hardest of marine tasks, or raise a cheerful call of encouragement one to another. there was the same soullessness in this as in all else they did. no dew was distilled from their death-like faces. once at the pump they never shifted their attitudes. a seaman of seventy, and perhaps older yet, would work side by side with one of twenty years, and at the end of the hour's labour--for each gang was relieved every hour--the aged sailor would exhibit no more fatigue than the younger one. their aspects came out startlingly as they stood close together, their countenances bearing expressions as undeterminable as the faint smile or the dim frown of horror or the slumberous placidity on the features of the dead; and never was the sense of the wild conjecture of the saracen's mad captain so borne into me as when i viewed one group after another coming to this pumping business, and contrasted their faces and perceived how every man--young, middle-aged and old--showed in dreadful vitality the appearance he would have offered at the hour of his death, no matter his years, had the curse not stood between him and the grave. that afternoon, happening to be alone on the poop--i mean, without imogene--for when she was absent i was more alone, though the whole of that ship's grisly company had gathered around me, than ever i could have been if marooned on some mid-ocean rock--and listening a little to the monotonous beat of the pump-gear, a thought came into my head and i stepped over to vanderdecken, who leaned upon the weather-rail, his chin upon his hand. "mynheer," said i, "i ask your pardon for breaking in upon you. the labour of pumping is severe--i know it from several stern experiences." he lifted his head and slowly looked round to me. "this ship," i continued, "has rescued me from death and proved an asylum to me. 'tis but right i should share in the general toil. suffer me then, mynheer, to take my turn at the pump with the others." he eyed me a little with his wonderful fiery gaze, and answered: "it is not necessary. our company is numerous, there are hands enough. besides, sir, there is no urgency, the water doth not gain if it do not decrease." i bowed, and was leaving him, but he added: "i fear you have but an imperfect knowledge of the character of the dutch. yet you tell me you have often visited rotterdam." "it is true, mynheer, but only as a sailor liberated o' nights and forced therefore to form his judgment on such company as the ale-house supplies." "that seems so," said he, "otherwise you would suspect from such treatment as we have shown you that we regard you as a guest, and it is not customary among us to use our guests as labourers." i bowed again, contenting myself with merely thinking how, as a guest, i went in fear of my life--to say no more. i thought, however, i would use his seeming willingness to converse with me, and said in as deferential a manner as i could command, "sir, the mere circumstance of my being your guest should properly teach me to believe that a time must come when i shall have wearied your courtesy by imposing too great a burden of my company upon it." i paused, hoping he would make haste to assure me to the contrary; but he did not speak, merely eyeing me steadfastly. "you will therefore judge, mynheer," i continued, "that i am actuated by no idle motive of curiosity in asking you whether your present design is to steer the ship to a port?" "to what port?" he exclaimed. i told him i did not know. "nor i," said he. "what settlement is there on this seaboard? you do not suppose that, with yonder pump going day and night, i should be willing to head for any other point of the coast than the nearest bay in which to careen and get at the leak?" "will that bay, mynheer," said i, still speaking with the utmost modesty and deference, "be far distant?" he answered: "it lies a few miles south of the parallel of thirty-four degrees. to reach it we shall have to sail an hundred and eighty leagues." "five hundred and forty miles!" i exclaimed, with an involuntary dejected glance aloft and at the passing water. "at this rate of progress, sir, the passage will occupy about five days." our gaze met as i said this and i observed a sudden fire in his eyes. "does the execution of any project you have in your mind depend upon the time we will take in reaching the coast?" said he, with suspicion sounding fiercely in the rich deep notes of his utterance. i felt the blood in my face as i answered: "mynheer, i have no project. methought, if you sailed to a port, you would rid yourself of my company. i have been long in your ship; every day increases my sense of trespass----" which said, i broke off, being really dismayed by the passionate fixity of his regard. such a searching for the heart in one's face was unbearable. my imagination, perhaps my conscience, imparted a wizard-like power to his burning eyes, and i felt that if i lingered, i should be constrained into a revelation of my intention to escape with imogene, as certain birds are fascinated into motionlessness and charmed to their devourment by the gaze of serpents. with the abruptness of alarm i bowed and left him. as i walked i could feel that his searching, scorching gaze followed me. however, it was something to have found out our whereabouts, to have gathered his intention, and to be able to calculate the time of our arrival off the coast. on this i plumed myself, making pretty sure that if my questions had caused him to suspect some project in my mind, his memory would loose its hold of the thing after a few hours. but i was mistaken, as you shall now see. whilst we were seated at the last meal, and with us in that death ship formed of soup or wine for drink, and such victuals as remained from dinner, i observed a peculiar air of distress and anxiety in imogene's face. i do not know that she made the least effort to disguise it. a sharp gleam of resentment would sparkle in the soft violet depths of her eyes as she now and then turned them on van vogelaar or vanderdecken, and then as they came to me they would soften into an exquisite wistfulness that was very near to a look of grievous pain. on the captain filling his pipe i went on deck and stood out of sight of the cabin on the poop-front, wondering what imogene's manner signified. presently she joined me. the sun was gone down; the stars shone singly or in clouds of bright dust over our northward-pointing bowsprit, and the air was soft and faint with the delicate light of the moon that was drawing out of her first quarter, and that could now rain her pearls with power into the dark waters under her. "what is amiss, dearest?" said i, taking her hand in mine, and moved in a way i could not give expression to by the pallor of her face, her eyes showing large and dark, the paleness of lip and hair and throat--her whole countenance, yes and her figure too; stealing out of their realness into an elfin-like unsubstantiality to the wan complexion of the moon. she answered: "did not i tell you i was sorry you had questioned vanderdecken? he is full of suspicion, and there is always van vogelaar at hand to exasperate his captain's temper and fancies by the poison of his own reptile-nature." "has vanderdecken spoken to you of my questions?" "no," she replied. "what has happened is this:--half-an-hour before supper i was in my cabin. the air was close, and i put the door on the hook and was near it combing my hair. vanderdecken came into the cabin and spoke to prins. soon afterwards van vogelaar entered, and told the captain that he had been among the crew and informed them that he hoped to make the coast in four or five days, and that on their arrival at amsterdam they would receive additional pay for their labour at the pump. they talked a little, but i should not have heeded them had not i suddenly caught the sound of your name. on this i left off combing my hair and crept close to the door. vanderdecken said: 'i believe he hath some scheme. he shrunk from my gaze and the colour mounted to his cheeks. he quitted me with the air of one whose conscience is like an exposed nerve.'" "heaven defend us!" i exclaimed, "your true dutchman is very fit to be a hangman. yet this unholy creature did certainly look at me to some purpose. 'twas time i walked off!" she continued: "van vogelaar answered, 'i would not trust that man further away from me than my hand could seize him. skipper, i ask your pardon, but was it wise, think you, to exhibit samples of the treasure below to this englishman? there is a noble fortune for him in those chests could he but come at them. what sort of egg is that which, beyond question, his mind is sitting upon, and that will be presently hatched? he is eager to learn your intentions. he manifests this eagerness in defiance of the contempt and anger with which you have again and again crushed down his curiosity into the silence of terror. suppose he hath some plot to secure the stranding of this ship; or that he intends her a mischief that shall force us to beach and perhaps abandon her? he is a sailor and an englishman; we are hollanders! skipper, the like of that man needs no help from sorcery to contrive our ruin.' vanderdecken answered, 'he must be got rid of,' in a voice that showed how van vogelaar's talk worked in him. i did not need to look, geoffrey, to know what sort of expression his face wore. they were silent awhile. vanderdecken then said: 'twould be mere barbarous, useless murder to take his life; there is no evidence against him. but we have a right to protect ourselves since he hath been mad and ungenerous enough to raise our suspicions----' van vogelaar interrupted: ''tis more than suspicion--'tis conviction with me, skipper----' 'this occurs to me as a remedy,' said vanderdecken: 'he must be set ashore before we sail; but he shall not be left to starve. a musket and ammunition will provide him with food, and he shall have a week's provisions. he is young, and with stout legs, and cannot miss his way to our settlement if he hold steadfastly to the coast.' the mate said, 'ay, that will be dismissing him lovingly.' they then went to the other end of the cabin and talked, but i could not hear them." "it would be barbarous, useless murder," i cried, "to hang, or stab or drown me, but kindness, nay, lovingness, to set me ashore with a week's provisions and a fowling-piece, to give me a night to be torn to pieces in by wild beasts, or a week to be enslaved by the homadods, or a month to perish of hunger! the villains! is this to be their usage of me?" "geoffrey, if they put you on shore i will follow. the future that is good enough for you is good enough for me. and, indeed, i would rather die a hard death on shore than be left to miserably live with men capable of cruelly destroying you." i reflected a little, and said, "their resolution keeps me safe for the present, at all events. if i am to be marooned they will let me alone meanwhile. therefore i consider that their determination greatly improves our chances.... no! there is nothing in their intention to scare me. i like their meaning so well that our prayer to god must be that vanderdecken may not change his mind." she was at a loss to understand me until i pointed out that, as i gathered from her report, they would not send me ashore until just before they were about to sail, so that i should have plenty of time to look about me and consider the surest method of escaping, whilst the ship was being careened and the leak repaired and the vessel in other ways doctored. "and, dearest," said i, "it has come to this with you, too: that sooner than remain with these fierce and dreadful people you will take your chance of that african coast you so greatly feared." "i will share your fortune, geoffrey, be it life or death--let come what will," said she, nestling close and looking up at me out of the phantom faintness of her face with her large eyes in whose liquid darkness the moon was reflected in two stars. "my precious one! i could not leave thee! if the terrors of the shore--the fears of the savage, the wild beast, the poisonous serpent--triumphed over your desire of escape, i would remain with you, imogene, if they would let me. 'twould be a hard fate for us both, dearest, to wear out our lives in this ship. but we cannot be parted--not of our own will, at least, however god may deal with us, or the knife or yard-arm halter of these villains. wherever you are i must be----" "yes!" she cried, passionately. "it may not indeed come to our delivering ourselves by using the coast. another scheme is in my head, though of it i will say nothing, since too much of fortune must enter it to fit it for cold deliberation. but it may end in our escaping to the land and lurking there in hiding till the ship sails. and it makes my heart feel bold, imogene, to hear you say that sooner than languish and miserably end your days in this accursed fabric you will dare with me the natural perils of that shore." and i say this: that had i been sure our life would prove the forfeit of attempting to escape by the coast, i would have welcomed death for her and myself sooner than live to think of her locked up in this detested ship, passing the long horrid days in the society of unearthly men condemned of heaven, and stealthily weeping away her heart at the thought of our severance. chapter viii. land. but for imogene having overheard his conversation with van vogelaar, i should never have been able to guess that there was any change in vanderdecken's resolution respecting me; i mean any change in his intention to carry me to europe in his ship. there was the same uniformity in the variety of his moods; he was sullen, haughty, morose, often insanely fierce, sometimes talkative, then falling into trances, in all such exhibitions as heretofore. in van vogelaar, however, there was a slight alteration. at moments i caught him peering at me with a look in his eyes that might have answered very well as a dark malicious merriment of soul of which the countenance was capable of expressing the villainous qualities only, i mean, not the mirth also. sometimes he would make as though to converse; but this i cut short, repelling him very fearlessly now that i understood his and his captain's plans, and that i had nothing to fear this side the execution of it. on my side, i was extremely wary, walking cautiously in all i said and did, and never venturing a remark to imogene, even when we had reason to believe we were absolutely alone, without sinking my voice after a careful probing glance around as if i expected to see an human ear standing out on any beam or bulkhead my sight went to. i busied myself in certain preparations in which i got imogene to help me. since, in any case, our escape to the land would have to be profoundly secret, 'twas necessary we should get ready a small stock of food to carry away with us, and i told imogene to make some bags out of the stoutest stuff she could come at to store it in, and to privately convey to me such provisions as i indicated, which she, as well as i, was to secrete when alone, during prins' absence, when the table was prepared. i said: "you have needles and thread?" for she had told me that some of the apparel vanderdecken lent or gave her she had been obliged to alter. "we shall require three or four bags. linen will do for the material." "there is plenty of linen," said she. "i will make the bags. but what is your project, geoffrey? tell me your full scheme--i may be able to put something to it." "i have two schemes," i answered: "but i will speak only of the one that concerns the shore. vanderdecken is sure to bring up close to the land; i have little doubt of being able to swim the distance, and shall make a small frame of wood to sit about your waist on which you will float when i lower you into the water, and then i shall softly let myself down and tow you to the land by swimming." i thought to see her countenance change, but she regarded me fearlessly, indeed with an emotion as of triumph colouring her face. "how am i to enter the water?" she asked. "i will lower you from the quarter-gallery outside your cabin," i replied, "the height is not great. the blackness under the counter will hide you, and i shall contrive to float us both away very quietly." she said, gazing at me fondly and smiling: "everything is feasible so far, geoffrey. but now imagine us arrived on shore." "i must carry you as far as your strength will suffer," i replied. "of course, vanderdecken will send in pursuit of us, but there should be no lack of dense vegetation full of hiding places. yet in this as in all other things, my dearest, we must rely upon god's help. that given there is nothing to fear; denied--then it would be better for me if i threw myself overboard at once." "geoffrey," she said, "i do not question you, dear heart, for dread of what we may encounter, but merely that by letting your plans lie in my mind my girlish spirit may grow used to them and unswervingly help you when the time comes." "brave little woman!" i cried, "do not believe i could misjudge you. you would ask me what is to follow when this vessel quits the coast and leaves us alone there? how can i answer? we must attempt what others have successfully achieved, and struggle onwards to some settlement. i know--i know, my darling, that the outlook is black and affrighting. but consider what our choice signifies; the fate that awaits us if you remain and i am marooned; or the chances--meagre indeed, but chances, nevertheless--which offer if we escape to the land. and we shall be together, dearest!" i kissed her brow, and her love leapt in her to my impassioned greeting; beautiful as she was, yet did she appear transfigured by the rich hue in her cheeks, her smile, the sparkle of her chaste and maidenly joy in the dark heaven of her eyes. call me not cruel for thus deliberately preparing to bring her face to face with the horrors of the african coast--with those barbarous features which her heart had long ago recoiled from the mere thought of. she was my sweetheart--my affianced--my life's blood. oh! how dear to me for her beauty, her sweetness, her passion for me, the miracle of our meeting, her loneliness under the sun and stars of the mighty southern ocean, amid shapes more spectral than ghosts, more horrible with their survival of human vices than had they been dead bodies quickened into life without soul or brain. how could i leave her? how could i endure the idea of my being forced ashore--alone--and of her sailing away forever from me in this grisly company? i had considered all these things; how if we gained the beach she would have to walk, as far as her limbs suffered, in drenched clothes and her delicate flesh chilled to the bone; how in our hiding-place the dews of a deadly climate would fall upon her by night, with creeping abominations of reptile and vermin swarming in the tangle where she lay--enough! i say that all perils which experience or imagination could crowd into such a deliverance as that i had in my mind and was steadfastly working out had been present to me from the beginning--but to what purpose? only to make me feel with the power of every instinct, with the impulse and strength of all-influencing and heated passions, that my fortune must be hers and that we could not part! a sailor will wonder perhaps to hear me speak of three or four bags of provisions, and wonder also that i should not see that if there was the least movement in the water when i lowered imogene with these bags about her into it, the provisions would be spoiled by the wet. but 'tis proper to say here that this proposal to float her in a frame and tow her ashore by swimming was but an alternative scheme which, at all hazards, i would go through with, if the other and less perilous venture should prove impracticable, and in case this should be so, i said nothing to her about it, that by her growing accustomed to the dismal and dangerous project she would not tremble and shrink if it came, as i feared it might, to our having to escape ashore. three small bags secured about my darling's shoulders, well out of the water, were less likely to be wetted than one big one that must needs hang low, trice it as i might; and anyway the three would be as good as one, let the manner of our escape be what it would. she made me these bags, and i hid them in my cabin, along with some biscuit which had been taken from the wreck, a few pieces of salted meat cooked, a small jar of flour, a little silver cup for drinking, and other compact and portable things, such as the flat banana cakes the cook sent to the cabin, a bottle of marmalade of the size of a small pickle jar, and the like. these things she and i took from the table by degrees, and they were not missed. i would have given a finger for a musket and powder and balls; but if there was an arms-chest on board neither she nor i knew where to find it. and suppose it had been possible to me to have secreted a musket--what they used, i believe, for shooting game and cattle were match-locks with barrels about three and a half feet long, and the bore of the bigness of a horse-pistol, and cartridges in small hollow canes, each holding a charge of powder--ammunition was not to be had without asking. she stitched me four bags, but three i found when loaded would be as heavy a load as it was prudent to put upon her; because when i came to look about me for wood for a frame for her to float in i could only meet with five small pieces, and even the purloining of these was attended with prodigious anxiety and trouble, as you will judge when i say that to get them i had to watch till i was unobserved and then kick a piece, as if by accident, under a gun, or to any corner where it might lie until i could carry it below under cover of the night. all these things i hid under the bed-place in my cabin, where i had very little fear of their being found; for the good reason that, to my knowledge, no one ever entered the berth. meanwhile, the wind held bravely, with--on the third day--but a few hours of stagnant atmosphere and a flat and brilliant sea, followed by a shift into the westward of south that worked into a hearty wind, before which the death ship drove under all cloths, the clear water gushing from her scuppers to the clanking and spouting of her pump. bearing in mind our situation after the tempest, as given me by vanderdecken, and narrowly, if furtively, observing the courses we made, i kept a dead reckoning of our progress--for by this time i could measure the vessel's pace with my eye as correctly as ever the log could give it--and when the fifth day arrived i knew that at eight o'clock that morning either we were some twelve leagues distant from the african coast or that vanderdecken was amazingly wrong in his calculations. my excitement bade fair to master me. it needed a power of will such as i could never have supposed i possessed to subdue my demeanour to that posture of calmness which the captain and his mates were used to see in me. happily, imogene was at hand to control any exhibition of impatience or anxiety. "let them suspect nothing in your manner," she would say. "van vogelaar watches you closely; the least alteration in you might set him conjecturing. who knows what fancies his base and malignant mind is capable of? his heart is bent on your destruction, and though he hopes that must follow your being left alone on the coast, yet a change in your ordinary manner might fill his cruel soul with fear that you had some plan to escape with your life, in which case i fear, geoffrey, he would torment and enrage vanderdecken into slaying you either here or on shore." well, as i have said, at eight o'clock that morning i reckoned we were some twelve leagues distant from the coast. the breeze had slackened somewhat, but it still blew a fresh air, and the water being quiet and such small swell as there was, together with the billows, chasing us, our speed was a fair five and a half knots. yet there was no sign to advertise us of the adjacency of land. a few cape hens flew along with us on our starboard beam, but this kind of sea-fowl had accompanied the ship when we were as far south as ever we were driven since i had been in her, and they could not be supposed to signify more than that we were "off" the south african headland--which term may stand for the measure of a vast extent of sea. the ocean was of as deep and glorious a blue as ever i had beheld it in the middle of the atlantic. my suspense grew into torment; anxiety became anguish, the harsher and fiercer for the obligation of restraint. there was no dependence to be placed on vanderdecken's reckoning. for several days he had been hove-to, and his log would certainly neither tell him his drift nor how the currents served him. my only hope then was in the supernatural guiding of the ship. i might believe, at least, that the instincts of the sea-bird would come to one whose dreadful and ghostly existence lay in an aimless furrowing of the mighty waters, and that he would know how to steer when the occasion arose, as does the ocean-fowl whose bed is the surge as its pinion is its pillow, but whose nest must be sought in rocky solitudes, leagues and leagues below that sea-line in whose narrow circle you find the creature flying. i dared not seem to appear to stare earnestly ahead; the part i had to play was that of extreme indifference; yet, swift as were the looks i directed over either bow, my eyes would reel with the searching, passionate vehemence of my stare, and the blue horizon wave to my sight as though it swam upon a swooning view. shortly after twelve o'clock, i was standing alone on the forward end of the poop, when i observed a clear shade of blue haze upon the horizon directly ahead. i watched it a little while, believing it no more than a darkening in the dye of the sky that way; but on bringing my eyes to it a second time, i found a fixity in the atmospheric outlining of the shadow that was not to be mistaken for anything but the blue faintness and delicate dim heads of a distant hilly coast. i turned, with a leap of heart that was a mingling of rapture and dread, to win imogene by my manner to view the land, too; but she stood with vanderdecken near the tiller, with her back upon me, apparently watching the motions of a bird that steadily flew along with us, some three cables' length on our larboard quarter, flying no faster than we sailed, yet going through the air as straight as a belated homeward-bound rook. one of the men forward saw the azure shadow, and seemed to call the attention of two or three others to it in that voiceless, mechanical way, which furnished a ghostlier and grislier character to the bearing and movements of the crew than ever they could have taken from the paleness of their faces, and the glittering, unreal vitality of their eyes only; and they went towards the beak to look, dropping whatever jobs they might have been upon, with complete disregard of discipline. broad as the day was, abounding as the scene with the familiar and humanising glory of the blessed golden sunshine and the snow-topped peaks of shallow liquid sapphire ridges, yet the figures of those men, showing under the swelling and lifting foot of the foresail, peering under the sharp of their hands against their foreheads, silent in postures of phlegmatic observation, gave the whole picture of the ship a wild and dismal colour and appearance, and the black melancholy, the cold unholiness of it, stole biting as polar frost-smoke to the senses through the genial splendour of the noon-tide. yet, like those men, did i stand looking with my hand against my brow, for there was a wonderful and almost blinding magnificence of light upon the shivering waters under the sun that was now floated north, but the resplendent haze did not dim the substantial line that was growing with a deepening hue into the atmosphere, and already methought i could discern the curve and sweep of inland airy altitudes with the dainty silver of clouds streaking them. "land, herr fenton!" cried a voice in my ear. i started. van vogelaar stood close beside me, pointing with a pale leathern forefinger, his harsh and rugged face smileless, though his eyes grinned with malice as they lay fastened upon mine. "i see it, mynheer," i replied, coldly. "it should rejoice your english soul," he exclaimed. "your countrymen will not count you as a mariner of theirs if you love not the land! see! remote and faint though it be, how substantial even in its blue thinness doth it show! no sea-sickness there, herr fenton! no hollow seas yawning black as vaults!" had this man been of the earth i needed but to catch him by the scroff and breech and bring his spine to my knee to kill him. and he looked so much as if i could have served him so that it was hard to regard him without pity. i said, quietly, "will that be the land the captain desires to make?" "ay," he answered, snarlingly, "the dutch are sailors." i thought to myself, yes, when they have the devil for a sea-cunny they will hit their port. "you will be glad to step ashore if but for half-an-hour?" said he, looking at me. "that is a matter that concerns your master," i answered, turning from him. a low ha! ha! broke from him, muffled as the sound of a saw worked under deck, as musical too, and as mirthless. yet imogene's quick ear caught it, and she turned swiftly to look. and methought it had penetrated further yet, for upon the heels of it, there rose up, as an echo, from the cabin, that harsh and rusty cry, "wy zyn al verdomd!" chapter ix. we bring up in a bay. i could not at that time know what part of the south african coast was this we had made, but i have since learnt that it lies a few miles to the eastward of the meridian of twenty-two degrees, and about an hundred and sixty miles from cape agulhas. when it first came into sight, as i have said, it was but a faint, long-drawn shade in the light blue of the sky over the horizon, with such a fairy tincture of flanking eminence beyond that the whole was as delicately tender as the visionary shore of a dream. but before the dinner-hour had come round we had stolen nearly two leagues closer to it, and the coast lay plain enough and very brave with colours, the green of several dyes, the mountain sky-lines of an exquisite clearness of cutting in the radiant atmosphere and against the hard azure brilliance of the heavens, and the tracts of white sand low down as lustrous as the foam of a dissolving surge. soon after the land had hove into view, imogene joined me. she had kept her feelings under whilst near vanderdecken. now, by my side, she stood with twenty emotions working in her, her nostrils quivering, her lips pale, the colour coming and going in her cheeks, the bright light that a passing hope flashed into her eyes dying out to the tearful shadowing of some bitter fear. i said to her, very softly, and keeping my face as expressionless as my inward agitation would permit--for vanderdecken and his mates conferred together near us, sometimes stopping close, sometimes pacing--"if this pace holds our anchor should be down by dusk." "what will they do?" she asked. "i have been asking that question of myself," i replied. "were they human--of this earth--i could foretell their movements. no sooner were they come to an anchor than they would turn to and get the guns and cargo over to one side, that by listing the ship they might bring the leak out of water and save themselves this starving job of pumping. but we have to base conjecture upon men who are neither dead nor alive, who are dutchmen besides, i mean of a dull and apathetic habit, and they may wait for daylight and so obtain rest, of which they should get as much as they want with the reliefs they are able to send to the pump." "what should best fit your project, geoffrey?" "oh," said i, under my breath, "if we are to escape we shall need a deserted deck and a sleeping ship." "if this should come about to-night will you make the venture?" "i cannot tell. put it thus: if they shift the cargo after coming to an anchor with the idea of raising the leak clear, the work may occupy them all night. so all night long the ship will be alive and busy, and there will be no chance for me." "but the ship will also be alive if they continue to ply the pump, which must be done if she is not to sink." "yes," said i, "so i may have to wait till to-morrow night." she cried, with a quick blanching of her face that cruelly proved her stock of strength but slender, "if they careen the ship to-night they will be able to repair the leak in the morning, and be ready to sail before the evening." "i do not fear that." "yet it might happen, geoffrey! they will put you on shore before sailing----" she stopped, bringing her hands together with a passionate clasp. "i do not fear that," said i again. "much will depend on where the leak is. if it be low down they may not be able to come at it without discharging cargo, which, seeing that they have but those two boats yonder to work with, and that they will have to make tents ashore and protect themselves against the natives--if any there here be--should keep them on the move for a long month. no, dearest, i do not fear that they will get away by to-morrow night--not if they were ten times as numerous and as nimble; nor is it probable that vanderdecken would suffer me to be marooned till the ship is ready to start. my one anxiety is just now the weather. there is tranquility in that dark blue sky over us; the wind weakens as we approach the land, and there is promise of a calm night. may god help me to achieve my purpose before another twelve hours have rolled by." she looked at me with eagerness and alarm. "to-night!" she cried. "if this ship lies here for days, as you imagine, how, when we are ashore, dare we hope to escape the strenuous search vanderdecken is certain to make for us?" i smiled; she continued, with a feverish whisper: "consider, dearest! if we are captured--he will have your life! god knows into what barbarities his rage may drive him!" "dearest," said i, gently, "let us first get out of the ship." and here we broke off, for our whispering had lasted long enough. soon after this we went below to dinner. at the start we none of us spoke, our behaviour and perhaps our appearance answering very exactly to the poet's description of a party in a parlour who sat-- "all silent and all damned!" outside, the sun shone gloriously, and the blue air had the purity of polished glass; but only a small portion of light found admission through the small windows in the cabin front, and we ate and gazed upon one another in a sullen atmosphere as gloomy as the expression on vanderdecken's face. at this moment i see him plain, as on that day; his beard falling to his waist, his head slightly bowed, and his glance travelling in a gaze that would often stop and become fixed, his skin bleak and high and drawn with pallor. he was attired in a sort of blouse of dark-green cloth, confined about his waist by a yellow belt fastened by a small metal clasp, that would have given him a romantic and buccaneering look but for the austere majesty and fateful character of his appearance, which inevitably neutralised every suggestion that did not accord with the solemn, horrible mystery of his being. we sat for some time, as i have said, as silent as the dead; but on reflecting that there was nothing, in reason, i could say likely to procure me a harder fate than that already designed by these men, i determined to ask a question or two, and said: "has your carpenter ascertained in what part of the ship the leak is, mynheer?" he turned his eyes round upon me slowly. he was indeed stately in all he did. i never beheld him glance quickly nor start, and the only time in which his dignity fell, torn in rags from him, was that night when he acted over the scene of the curse in his sleep. he answered, "yes." "is it far down?" said imogene. "the ship will need heeling to four strakes," he replied. i dropped my knife on to the deck for the excuse to pick it up that i might hide the delight in my face. a list of four strakes would prove but a very small matter to bring about, and my fears that the vessel would linger for days, perhaps for a month, on this coast vanished. "i hope," said i, "it may not prove worse than a started butt-end." "it is that, and no more," said he. "how much more would you have, herr fenton?" exclaimed van vogelaar, in his ugliest manner. "dost suppose our pump can deliver half the great south sea with every stroke?" "it should take us four days of easy working," said i, "to careen, repair, and start afresh snugly stowed." "you are in a hurry to get home, sir, no doubt?" exclaimed van vogelaar. "sir," said i, "i am addressing the captain." "skipper!" cried the man; "herr fenton is in a hurry to get home! we should put him in the way of making a speedy passage." "i expect to return in this ship," said i, speaking with my eyes on vanderdecken. "i am well satisfied. nothing stauncher floats. consider, mynheer, how nobly she has acted in the gales we have encountered. it would please me to entreat you to use such poor skill as i have as a mariner in helping your men; but your courtesy is magnanimous--of the form that is to be met in highest perfection in the hollander of lineage--and i will not risk my own civility by further requests." he motioned with his hand, contenting himself with whatever answer the gesture signified. i perceived there was no further information to be obtained from him--from van vogelaar nothing but sneers and insults--and so held my peace. yet i had learnt something. when, after dining, i went on deck, the land looked as near again as it had when i went below. this was owing to the amazing transparency and purity of the atmosphere, insomuch that every twenty fathoms the ship measured was like adding a fresh lens to a perspective glass. yet it was not until four o'clock that the coast lay so clear as to render every detail of it a visible thing, and then the sight was helped by the sun being on the larboard side and showering his glory aslant, which, mingling with the golden splendour rising out of his wake in the sea, put an extraordinary shining into the atmosphere, but without the lustrous haze that had been rising when he was right over the land and kindling the water under our bows. 'twas a picture of a bay with a shelving beach thickly green with bushes and trees, in and out of which there winded lengths and lines of exceeding white sand that trembled to the sunshine with the shivering metallic sheen of frosted silver. the sea went blue as the sky to the shore and tumbled into foam, in some places leaping up in creamy dartings, in others making a small crystal smoke with its boiling, elsewhere lapping tenderly and expiring in ripples. the azure heights beyond, which had seemed to closely flank the coast when first beheld, drew inland with our approach, marking their remoteness by the retention of their lovely atmospheric delicacy of colour, and their height by the lengths of vapour that clung to their mighty slopes at various altitudes, like fragments of great silken veils or cloths of pale gold which had been rent whilst blowing along. the seaboard went in a rugged line east and west by the compass, sometimes coming very low down, sometimes soaring into great forelands, plentifully covered with wild growths, as you saw by the several dyes of green that coated it, and in one place--about a league from the bay--a pale blue smoke rising up denoted a bush-fire, and, as it was easy to suppose, the presence of natives. the sky was catching a tinge of brassy hardness from the westering sun, and the complexion of it where the mountain heights were somehow made you think of measureless miles of hot and cloudy sand glowing yellowly up into that feverish reflection. the weak swell that lifted us rolled in wind-wrinkled folds into the bay, which yawned unsheltered to the south. i knew from experience that it needs no great wind on this coast to raise a monstrous sea, and it was with unspeakable eagerness and anxiety that i directed my eyes from the land to the sky overhead and on our quarters. but the promise of tranquility seemed to deepen with the drawing down of the sun. it was sheer sapphire in the south, melting eastwards into violet, and the sea that way was like an english lake, and to the left of the sun there floated a few purple clouds, which i watched some time with attention but could not tell that they moved, though a breeze was still about us, humming pleasantly aloft, keeping our old sails rounded, and sending the aged structure gliding at four knots an hour as quietly through it as a seagull paddling in the level water of an harbour. but for the tedious clanging of the pump and the fountain-sounds of its discharge, the stillness on board would have been as deep as the hush upon the land. still, lovely as was that afternoon, i very well remember wishing it had been a month earlier or later than this. we were in the stormy time of the year in these parts, though it was summer at home, and a violent change might quickly come. if it came, vanderdecken would have to put to sea, leak or no leak, for it was not to be supposed that mere hemp could partake of the curse; and the cables which i saw some of the crew getting up out of the hold and bending to the anchors at the bows were assuredly not going to hold this lump of a craft, high out of water and as thick as a tower aloft, for twenty solid minutes in a seaway and in the eye of a stout wind. therefore it was, when i was alone with imogene, the coast being then about a league distant and the sun low, that i said to her: "dearest, i have made up my mind to make a desperate effort to get away with you to-night." "i am ready," she answered, instantly; "you need but tell me what to do." "we must make use of this noble weather," i continued; "it is a fickle season, a change may come in half-a-dozen hours and force vanderdecken to sea with his pump going. imogene, it must not find us aboard." "no." "there will be no moon till eleven; we must be away before she rises, for she will glow brightly in that sky." "dearest, i am ready," she repeated. "but, geoffrey, risk nothing on the mere chance that the weather will change. you might imperil your life by haste--and to-morrow night may be as reposeful as this that approaches, and with a later moon too!" "yes, but do not bid me risk nothing!" i exclaimed. "we must risk everything--our chances aboard and our chances out of the ship--or you are as good as chained to this vessel for life." she smiled her acquiescence. i looked at her with passionate inquiry, but never did a braver and more resolved heart gaze at a lover from a maiden's eyes. i found the fearlessness of her devotion the more admirable for the dread she had expressed concerning the perils of the coast, and for her speaking thus to me with the land close to and all its wildness and melancholy visible to her, together with the distant smoke, towards which i had seen her glance again and again, and whose meaning she perfectly understood. the ship swam slowly forwards. the coast dried the wind out of the atmosphere, but so much the better, for there was enough to carry us in, and then it could not die too soon to serve my turn. all was ready with the anchors forward, and the men hung about in pallid gangs waiting for orders to take sail off the ship. the vitality of the wondrous craft seemed to lie in the pump and its automatic plyers, so deep was the silence among the crew and so still their postures; but now and again the heavy courses would swing into the masts to the soft bowing of the fabric and raise a feeble thunder-note like to the sound of bowls rolling over hollow ground. the red light in the west lay upon the head of the shaggy line of coast, and the far-off mountains that had been blue went up in a dim purple to the sky; the crimson haze seemed to float over the rugged brink and roll down the slope to the shore, so that the scene was bathed in a most exquisite delicate light--all features touched with red; a bronze as of english autumn upon the green; the white sand gleaming rosily, and great spaces of reddish rubble-like ground glowing dark as blood. but the loneliness! i figured myself ashore there--the ship gone--imogene gone! i stood in fancy upon the beach looking out on this bare sea; an aged, perhaps worthless firelock by my side, a few cartridges, a week's store of provisions! the moan of the surf was in my ear; every creaking and rustling of the wind in the near bushes startled me. to right and left rolled the coast for endless leagues, and the vast plain of sea, whose multitudinous crying found echoes in a thousand caverns, east and west, and in the reverberating heart of giant cliffs, whose walls were best measured in parallels and meridians, went down into the heavens where the uttermost ends of the earth were. yet, hideous as was the prospect of that shore when i thought of myself marooned upon it, its horrors shrunk into mere perils, such as courage, patience and resolution might overcome, when my imagination put my darling by my side, and with her hand in mine, i looked round me upon the vast scene of solitude. in her weakness i found my strength; in her devotion my armour. great god! how precious to man is thy gift of woman's love! but for imogene where would have been my purpose and determination? i have but to recall the condition of my spirits when i looked at the shore and thought of myself as alone there to know. the sun had been sunk an hour, the twilight had melted into darkness, and the sky was full of stars, when the death ship floated in a breathless manner to abreast of the eastern bluff or foreland of the bay, and with an air as faint as the sigh of a spirit expiring upon the black drapery of her higher canvas, she slided the blotting head of coast on to her quarter, and came to a dead stand within half-a-mile of the beach. i heard vanderdecken tell arents to drop the lead over the side. this was done. the captain exclaimed: "what trend hath she?" "none, sir. the line is up and down like an iron bar." "clew up the topsails and topgallant-sails. up with the courses. see all ready to let go the anchors, van vogelaar." these orders were re-echoed. in a moment the decks were alive with dusky shapes of moving men; one after another the sails dissolved against the stars like clouds, amid the hoarse rumbling of blocks, the whistling of running ropes, the rattle of descending yards. "are you all ready forward?" cried vanderdecken, his rich voice going in notes of deep-throated music up into the gloom. "all ready!" answered van vogelaar from the forecastle. "then let go the anchor!" the heavy splash of a great weight of iron was followed by a hot seething sound of cable torn through the hawse-pipe; the water boiled to the launching blow from the bow and spread out in a surface of dim green fire. i watched to see if the vessel would swing: but there was no air, neither was there tide or current to slue her, and she hung in a shadow like that of a thunder-cloud over her own anchor, her mastheads very softly beating time to the slow lift and fall of the light swell. "keep all fast with the larboard anchor!" exclaimed vanderdecken. "overhaul the cable to the fifty fathom scope. aloft men and stow the canvas. carpenter!" a hoarse voice answered, "sir?" "sound the well and let me know what water there is." in a few minutes a lantern flickered like an _ignis fatuus_ and threw out the sombre shapes of men as its gleam passed over the decks which rippled in faint sheets of phosphoric light. he who bore it was the carpenter. when he came to the pump he handed it to a seaman whilst he dropped the sounding-rod down the well. the light was yellow, and the figures of the fellows who were pumping and the stooping form of the carpenter stood out of the gloom like an illuminated painting in a crypt. a foot or two of water gushing from the pump sparkled freely to where the darkness cut it off. against the glittering lights in the sky you saw the ink-like outlines of men dangling upon the yards, rolling up the canvas. i watched the carpenter pore upon the rod to mark the height to which the wet rose; he then came on to the poop and spoke to vanderdecken in a voice too low for me to catch what he said. imogene had left me ten minutes before, and i stood alone in the deeper shade made in the gloom upon the poop by the mizzen-rigging. the beating of my heart was painful with anxiety. from one moment to another i could not tell what the next order might be, and if ever i seemed to feel a breath of air upon my hot temples, i trembled with the fear that it was the forerunner of a breeze. as it stood, 'twas such a night to escape in that my deepest faith in god's mercy had never durst raise my hopes to the height of its beauty and stillness. on the opposite side of the poop slowly walked vanderdecken; in the starlight such of his skin as showed was as white as wax; he sometimes looked aloft at the men there, sometimes around at the ocean, sometimes coming to a stand to mark the gradual swinging of the ship that was now influenced by some early trickling of tide or by the motions of the small heaving in the sea, or by some ghostly whisperings of air overhead. ten minutes passed. though the ship was full of business, not a sound broke from the men, and the hush you felt upon the dark line of shore would have been upon the vessel but for the clanking jerks of the pump-brake and the noise of flowing water. a figure came up the poop-ladder and softly approached. it was imogene. i lightly called and she came to my side in the shadow. "what are they doing?" she asked. "they are furling the sails; nothing more as yet," i answered. "will they endeavour to lift the leak out of water to-night?" "dearest, i am waiting to see what they mean to do." "i will ask vanderdecken," said she, "he always answers my questions." i seized her hand. "no! he may suspect i sent you. let us walk carelessly here and there. lurking in the shadow might give an air of conspiracy to the prattle of infants to the suspicions of such a mind as his." we moved towards the taffrail--the helm was lashed and abandoned--and then quietly to and fro, speaking under our breath. "geoffrey, we may find no water to drink when we get on shore; have you provided for that?" she said. i started. i had thought of all things, as i fancied; yet i had overlooked the most essential of our certain needs. "no, i have not provided for that," i exclaimed. "how now to manage?" "i thought of it just now in my cabin. there is a pitcher there and the sight of it put it into my head to ask if you had included water in your stock of provisions. it holds about two gallons. it has a narrow neck and may be easily corked. but how can we convey it ashore. my weight and the bags and it would sink a bigger frame than the one that is to float me." i said: "is there fresh water in it?" "it is nearly full. prins keeps it replenished." i said: "are bottles to be had?" she reflected and answered: "there are jars in which wine is kept, but i do not know where to find them." 'twas my turn to think. i then cried: "there is a silver flagon in the box under the table; that which prins took away last week and brought back filled with sherry for vanderdecken. can you get it?" "yes." "we may not need it; if so we will leave it. vanderdecken shall not say that we have plundered him though we must risk a graver charge even than that if there be occasion. dearest, convey that flagon to your cabin. fill it with fresh water in readiness. we shall find fresh water sweeter than the richest wine. also contrive to have the pitcher filled to the brim. prins will do that and suspect nothing. you will invent a reason, and when it is filled cork it as securely as possible and bind the head with stout rag that what you use as a cork may not fall out." she said she would go and see about it at once. "a moment," i whispered. "is the window of your quarter-gallery open?" "no; but i will open it." "do so; stand at it till you hear me cough. then grasp a rope that i will let hang against the window and coil it away as you pull it in." she understood me with the readiness of a sailor's child and a sailor's sweetheart, and left me. the mizzen-yard was lowered; the sail had been stowed some time. rove through a small block at the end of the yard was a length of thin line termed signal halliards used for the showing of colours. i waited till vanderdecken came to a stand at the head of the ladder that was, of course, at the forward end of the poop, and then with a mariner's swiftness overhauled the halliards through the block, catching the end as it fell that it might not strike the deck, and threw it over the quarter, coughing distinctly as i did so. i felt her pull it; i paid it out cautiously, narrowly watching vanderdecken till the whole length was gone, then sauntered forward to where the shadow of the mizzen-rigging blackened the air. i had not stood there a minute when vanderdecken cried out, "van vogelaar!" the mate answered from the forecastle. "let a hand remain on the main-topsail yard to receive a tackle for hoisting out both boats." i turned my back, putting both my hands to my face in an ecstatic burst of gratitude to the great god of heaven for this signal mercy. 'twas what i had been hoping and waiting for, with a heart sickened by doubt and fear. the order was given, and had i been suddenly transported with imogene into a ship bound for england my soul could not have swelled up with keener exultation! chapter x. the weather helps my scheme. i will say now that the alternate scheme i had all along had in my mind was escaping by means of one of the boats. but i had held this project back from imogene; nay, had kept it in hiding almost away from my own consideration for fear that i should be unable to secure a boat. perhaps, indeed, i had counted upon vanderdecken practising the custom of his day, which was to get the boats over on coming to an anchor; yet it was but a hope, and not daring to think too heartily in this direction i had talked wholly to imogene of delivering ourselves by floating and swimming ashore. but now the boats were to be lifted over the side, and my next proceeding must therefore be to watch an opportunity to enter one of them with imogene and silently sneak away. to see what they were about, the men hung several lanterns about the waist and gangways. the canvas had been furled, and the yards lay in thick black strokes against the stars. the coast looked like peaked heights of pitch, and the sea, with a sort of dead gleaming floating in it with the motion of the folds, spread out brimful to the dim flashing of the surf. you could hear nothing for the noise of the pumping, yet it seemed to me but for that, god knows what mysterious whisperings, what faint noise of howling cries, what strange airy creeping of hisses and the seething of swept and disturbed foliage and burrowed bush i might catch the mingled echo of, hovering in a kind of cloud of sound, and coming, some of it, from as far away as the deeper blackness that you saw in the land where the cerulean giants of the afternoon steadied their burdened postures by pressing their brows against the sky. there was a red spot upon that part of the coast over which you would be looking for the crimson forehead of the moon presently. 'twas a league off, and expressed a big area of incandescence, and was the fire whence the smoke i had noticed arose. one after the other they swung the boats clear of the rail to the water, and secured the ends of their painters, or the lines by which they were fastened, to a pin, on either quarter, thus leaving both boats floating under the counter. vanderdecken then gave orders for the second anchor to be let go, the ship having some time since slided imperceptibly back to the fair tension of the cable already down. i now thought i had been long enough on deck, that further lingering must suggest too much persistency of observation; so i went to the cabin. it was empty. i coughed, and in a minute or two imogene came from her berth. the lamp swung over the table and the white light that fell through the open bottom of it streamed on my face. she instantly exclaimed: "you are flushed and look glad! what is it, geoffrey?" "we are as good as free!" i cried. she stared at me. then i explained how vanderdecken had ordered the boats over as though in sober truth he had as great a mind as i that we should escape; how our deliverance by one of the boats had been my second but concealed scheme; how both boats were under the counter, to our hands almost; and how nothing more remained to be done but wait a chance of entering one of them and dropping hiddenly out of sight. "then we need not land!" she cried. i said, "no." she clasped her hands and looked at me with a rapture that made me see how heavy though secret had lain the horror of escape by the shore upon her. i said to her: "slip into your quarter-gallery and look over and tell me which boat lies under it, whether the little or the large one. also if the rope that holds her is within reach. also distinguish what furniture of oars and sails are in the boats--if any there be. i dare not go to your cabin lest vanderdecken should arrive as i come out." she went, and was gone about five minutes. during this interval i took notice of a sobering down of the movements of the men about the deck, as though they were coming to an end with their various jobs of coiling away and clearing up. but the pump gushed incessantly. i grew extremely eager to know if they meant to handle the cargo and guns, towards careening the vessel, that night. but whether or no, i was determined to leave the death ship, and before the moon rose--if possible. 'twas now a little after seven o'clock. imogene returned. she glanced about her to make sure i was alone, and seating herself close to me, said: "it is the bigger boat that is under my quarter-gallery." "good!" i cried. "she will be the safer for our purpose." "where the other boat lies the gloom is so thick 'tis impossible to see what is in her. but i can distinctly perceive the outline of a sail in the big boat." "there will be a mast as well," said i. "since the sail is there she will have been lowered fully equipped. and the rope that holds her?" "it tightens and droops with the lifting of the boat and the heaving of the ship," she replied. "but i think it may be grasped by standing upon the rail of the galley." this i had expected, for the boat rode to a very short scope of line. "now, dearest," said i, "this is my plan: the line you dragged in, when middled and doubled, will serve me to lower you down with. when in the boat, you must throw the line off you, so that i may use it to send down the pitcher of water and the bags of provisions. i will then come down by it myself. retire as early as you may under pretence of being weary, then clothe yourself in your warmest attire and select such apparel as fits most closely, for flowing drapery cannot but prove troublesome. leave your cabin door unlatched, but seemingly shut, that i may enter by pushing only. meanwhile, stay here. i shall return in a few minutes." i walked to my cabin below. the gang of pumpers clove to the brake like a little company of spectres clothed as seamen, and their manner of toiling suggested a horrid mockery of the labour of earthly beings. i shot a swift glance along the deck ere descending the hatch, but, saving the men who pumped, could see no more than a shadow or two moving in the distance forward. i took the bags of provisions from under the bed; the smallest of the three fitted my hat, which i put on my head; the other two i crammed into my coat pockets, which were extremely capacious. a goodly portion of the bag in the larboard pocket stood up, and the head of the other was very visible; but i covered them by keeping my arms up and down; and so conveyed them to the cabin, which i surveyed through the door before entering. imogene instantly took them to her berth, and then returned. she had scarce resumed her seat when vanderdecken entered. he came to the table and looked on a moment, and said: "imogene, where is prins?" "i have not seen him," she answered. he stepped to the door and called, and then came to his chair and seated himself, not offering to speak till prins arrived. "get the supper," said he. "mix a bowl of brandy punch. my limbs ache. i have stood too long." encouraged to address him by his breaking the silence, i said, "mynheer vanderdecken, may i ask if it is your intention to careen to-night?" he looked at me sullenly and with a frown, and said: "why do you inquire?" "that i may crave a favour, sir. my cabin is close to the pump; the clattering of that engine is extremely disturbing, and therefore i would ask your permission to use this bench for a bed to-night if you do not intend to careen to the leak, and so render further pumping unnecessary." he considered awhile, eyeing me sternly; but it was not conceivable that he should find any other than the surface-meaning in this request. he answered: "i do not intend to careen; the weather hath every promise of continued fairness; the men shall have their night's rest; they will work the more briskly for it to-morrow. as the pump must be kept going, your request is reasonable. you can use this cabin, and prins shall give you one of my cloaks to soften your couch." i made him a low grateful bow, secretly accepting his civility, however, as does a man condemned to death the attentions of a gaoler or the tenderness of the hangman. prins prepared the table for supper, and then set a bowl of steaming punch before the captain. shortly afterwards arrived van vogelaar and arents. our party was now complete, and we fell to. i said: "gentlemen, you will forgive the curiosity of an english mariner who is unused to the discipline of the batavian ships. how, mynheer vanderdecken, are the watches among you arranged when in harbour, as in a sense we may take ourselves now to be?" imogene observing my drift came to my help and said in dutch: "the practice is as with our countrymen, herr fenton." "then the commandant stands the watch till midnight, and the mates together till sunrise," said i, speaking inaccurately that i might draw them into speech. "no," exclaimed arents. "with us the commander keeps no watch. the mates take the deck as at sea, i till midnight, van vogelaar till four, then i again." "that is as it should be," said i, smiling into arents' large, fat, white face. "and it is very proper," said van vogelaar, in his coarse sarcastic voice, "that english sailors should apply to the dutch for correct ideas on true marine discipline." "gentlemen," said i, suavely, "i have learnt much since i have been with you." the mate darted one of his ugliest looks at me. and it was made infernal by the twist of leering triumph in his heavy lips, though he could not suppose i exactly understood what it meant. we fell silent. vanderdecken served out the punch with a small silver goblet. i drank but a mouthful or two, dreading the fumes. the others quaffed great draughts, making nothing of the potency of the liquor, nor of the steaming heat of it. had they been as i was or imogene--human and real--i should have rejoiced in their intemperance; but 'twas impossible to suppose that the fumes of spirits could affect the brains of men immortal in misery. when they had done eating they called for pipes, and vanderdecken told prins to bring him such and such a cloak, naming and describing it. the fashion of it was about eighty years old; 'twas of very dark velvet, with a silver chain at the throat and silk under-sleeves. he motioned to prins to put it down, giving me to know by the same gesture that it was at my service. i thanked him with a slight inclination of the head, grateful that he did not speak, as i knew not what effect the news of my desire to sleep in the cabin might have upon the malignant mate's suspicious mind. imogene observed a strict silence. sometimes i caught her looking at vanderdecken, sometimes round upon the cabin. at such moments there came a softened light of wistfulness into her eyes; nay, rather let me call it pensiveness, for there was nothing of yearning in it--merely the emotion that would attend the thought that, under god, this was the last night she would ever pass in the death ship; the last hours she would ever spend in the company of vanderdecken. the old fabric had for nearly five years been her ocean home--the only refuge in the wide world for her. 'twas associated with the desolation of her orphaned state--with the anguish of her loneliness in the open boat. her very being had merged into the ancient timbers--to the spirit of her life a voice and an expression had been given by each hollow straining sound, by the roar of wind in the rigging, by the musical stirrings of air in the quiet night, by the sob of gently-passing waters, by the thunder of the storm-created surge. and he at whom she gazed--cruel, fierce, scowling, imperious as he was--lifting god-defying eyes to the heavens, his giant frame volcanic with the desperate perturbations of a soul of fire--yet had that man ever been gentle to her--he had tended her with something of a father's love; he had held her to his breast as an ocean-stray for whom, heaven help him! he believed that there was an asylum, that there was affection, that there was motherly and sisterly sympathy in his distant home at amsterdam. she could not have been the imogene of my adoration, the fresh, true-hearted virginal being of this death ship, mingling something of the mystery of the doomed structure and something of the mighty deep, with the pure, chaste, exquisite vitality of a living and a loving woman, had not her violet eyes saddened to the thought of parting for ever from her floating home and from that stately, bearded figure whose affection for her was even fuller of pathos than his dream of those whom he deemed yet slumbered at night in far-off amsterdam. but no sentiment of this kind coloured my view of him. to me, that was to be put ashore by his command and left miserably to perish there, he was a cruel and a murderous rascal; of which qualities in him i had so keen a sense that i never for a moment questioned that if my scheme miscarried and he found out what i intended, he would have me swung at the yard-arm right away out of hand, though it should be pitch dark and they should have to hang me by lantern-light. presently arents put down his pipe and went on deck. van vogelaar, leaning on his elbow midway across the table, muttered with the long shank of his pipe between his teeth to vanderdecken about the routine and rotation of the pumping-gangs. the captain let fall a few instructions touching the morning's work. imogene rose. "i am like you, captain vanderdecken--weary," she said, smiling, whilst her pale face fully warranted her assurance. "i shall go to bed." "'tis early," said he, sending a look at the clock; "you seem dispirited, my dear. it will not be this brief halt here, i trust? we shall be under weigh again in a couple of days, homeward-bound--one great ocean already traversed. think of that!" she put her fingers to her mouth simulating a yawn. "but if you are weary," he continued, "go to rest, my dear." she smiled at him again, curtsied to me, and with a half-bow to van vogelaar went to her cabin. vanderdecken, dipping the silver goblet into the punch-bowl, bade me extend my cup. i thanked him, said my head ached, and that with his leave i would take the air above for a spell. on gaining the poop i walked right aft and looked over the taffrail. the boats there rose and fell in two lumps of blackness under the quarters. they strained very quietly at the lines which held them, and this enabled me to observe, by noting the trend of the land, that such surface-motion as the water had was westerly. i was fretted to observe the sea unusually phosphorescent. every time the rise and fall of the ship's stern flipped at one or the other of the boat's lines the sudden drag raised a little foam about her, and the bubbling flashed like the reflection of sheet lightning in a mirror. this, i say, vexed me; for the dip of an oar must occasion a fire as signalling in its way as a flare or a lantern, though the boat itself should be buried in the darkness. i came away from the taffrail after a very brief look over. arents at the head of the poop-ladder stood apparently gazing at the men pumping on the main-deck, but i knew the motionless postures into which he and the others fell too well to guess that any speculation would be found in his eyes could they be peered into. the bush fire burnt like a great red spark on the black outline to starboard. out of the western ocean the stars looked to be floating as though they were a smoke of silver sparkles, meeting in a mass of diamond-light over our swaying mastheads, with scatterings of brilliant dust among them, suggesting the wakes of winged star-ships; but past the starboard yard-arms all this quick, glorious scintillation of planet and meteor, of fixed stars and the magellanic clouds, with the beautiful cross sweetly dominant, went wan and dying into mere faintness. this however i did not particularly heed, though the habits of a sailor would cause me to fasten my eye upon the appearance; but presently looking for the crimson scar of bush-fire, i found it was gone with many of the stars which had been glittering above and against it. a few minutes put an end to conjecture; 'twas a true south african fog coming along, white as gunpowder smoke, and eating out the prospect with long feelers and winding limbs till the whole body was fluffing thick and soft as feathers about the ship, eclipsing everything save a golden spike or two of the lighted lantern that hung against the main-mast for the comfort or convenience of the pumpers. chapter xi. my poor darling. it was ten o'clock. for half-an-hour had i been sitting in the cabin alone waiting for vanderdecken to come below and go to bed. i heard the parrot angrily clawing about her cage to the chiming of the bell, as if impatient of the slowness of the strokes and enraged by their disturbing notes; and when the last chime died out she violently flapped her wings and cried, with an edge of scream in the ordinary harshness of her voice, "wy zyn al verdomd!" "verdomd for you, you vile croaker!" thought i, involuntarily clenching my fist as i looked towards her. "such another yell might bring van vogelaar out of his berth." but she was never again to utter that curse in my hearing. i went to the cabin door, and found the thickness boiling black about the decks, not an outline visible, nothing to be seen but the lantern-shine, dim as a glow-worm in the crystalline denseness. the clanking of the pump seemed to find twenty echoes in the great concealed fabric of round-tops and square yards on high. how ghostly the stillness with which the brake was plied! you listened till your ear seemed in pain for the sound of a human laugh, the growl of a human voice. whilst i stood looking into the thickness, vanderdecken came down the quarter-deck ladder. the wet of the fog sparkled in his beard, and his fur cap glistened to the lamplight. he stood in the doorway and stared at me under his great heavy brows as though surprised, and even startled, to see me; then exclaimed, "_ach_, i had forgotten you sleep in this cabin to-night. the lamp can be left alight, if you please." "if you please, mynheer," said i, with a note of careless indifference in my voice. in fact i would rather have been in darkness, but it was my policy to seem as if his wishes were all the same to me, let them run as they would. "tell prins when he comes, it is my order he should leave the lamp burning," said he, speaking quietly and in a manner that recalled my earliest impressions of him when he talked low lest he should disturb imogene. he gave me a stiff bow and walked to his cabin. five minutes after arrived prins. "'tis the captain's wish," said i, in a low voice, "that the lamp should be kept alight." "good, sir," he replied, imitating my soft speech. "it is for my convenience; i sleep here as you know, that the pump may be less disturbing. captain vanderdecken is good enough to consult my comfort, but as the light is bright, pray dim it, prins. that may be managed, i hope?" "easily," he answered, and climbed upon the table to come at the lamp. "so," said he, turning down the mesh, "how is that, herr fenton?" "a little fainter yet--so! i thank you, prins. have you made an end of your work? i am in no hurry to lie down." he slipped off the table with a look round, and said: "my work is finished, herr. you can take your rest at once for me." he yawned. "these african fogs make one gape. good-night, sir." "good-night, prins." he halted in the doorway. "i will shut this door to keep the damp out," he said. i motioned with my hand as though bidding him shut it, which he did, and i was left alone. i wrapped vanderdecken's large rich cloak about me, and stretched myself along the bench, using my arm as a pillow. i resolved to lie thus for at least half-an-hour, conceiving that this would be long enough to weary any one who should take it into his head to watch me through the cabin window. as to vanderdecken, i did not fear his seeing me whilst he kept his door closed. the bulkhead of his berth was thick and apparently seamless, and his door fitted into overlaps of the jambs, for the exclusion of draughts of air after the fashion in old shipbuilding. i lay very quiet hearkening to the dulled beating of the pump and watching the clock, the great hand of which was just visible. when it came round so as to lie upon the quarter before the hour, i rose with the utmost stealth, arranging the cloak in such a fashion as to make the dark shape of it resemble a recumbent form, and holding my breath, stole on tiptoe to imogene's cabin and pushed the door. it opened; i entered and pushed the door to again, and it jammed noiselessly upon the soft substance that had kept it closed before. imogene sat on the side of her bed, that exactly resembled the bed in vanderdecken's room which i have described. she was fully dressed, and had on a fur or sealskin cap, with flaps for the ears. a small silver lamp of a very ancient pattern hung from a hook in the great beam that traversed the ceiling of her cabin, but she had trimmed or depressed the mesh into a feeble gleam. the little door that led to the quarter-gallery stood open. i kissed her cold forehead, and whispered, "are you ready?" "yes!" i held her hand whilst i could have counted ten, but found it steadier than mine. "come, dearest!" said i, and i stepped into the gallery. the fog put an intolerable blackness into the air, and the chill of it was like frost upon the flesh. but for the phosphorescence of the sea, which i had before lamented, i should not have been able to see the boat under the counter. as it was, the tweaking of the line to the rise and fall of the death ship kept a small stir of water about the boat; the greenish-yellow shining showed through the fog and threw out the figure of the structure. the railing of the gallery rose to the height of my breast. i leaned over it, waving my hand in the blackness for the rope, and not catching it, bade imogene seize my coat to steady me, and jumped on to the rail, and in a moment felt the line and grasped it; then dismounted, holding the rope. in a few seconds i had the boat's head--that was square and horned, as you will remember--fair under the gallery, and in that posture i secured her by hitching the slack of the line to the rail. everything continued to help us; first the fog, that made an astonishing blackness of the night, though i guessed this would grow into a pallid faintness presently, when the moon was up and had gathered power; next the phosphoric shinings upon which the boat rose and fell like a great blot of ink; then the noise of the pump, which, to the most attentive ear on deck, would absorb all such feeble sounds as our movements were likely to cause; and again, there was the small but constant grinding of the sudden jumping of the rudder to the action of the swell, very nicely calculated to lull the suspicions of vanderdecken in the adjacent cabin should he be awake and hear us. but this i did not fear, for the quarter-gallery was outside the ship, and we worked in the open air, and made no noise besides. not a moment was to be lost; the halliards i had unrove from the mizzen-peak lay in a heap at my feet. i ran the length through, doubled it, and made a bowline-on-the-bight of the two thicknesses. this bight or loop i slipped over imogene's shoulders, bringing the running or lowering part in front of her that there should be no pressure to hurt her tender breasts, and then took two turns round a stancheon on the quarter-gallery. "dearest," i whispered, kissing her, "keep a stout heart and do exactly as i bid. first, in what part of the cabin shall i find the pitcher and the provisions?" "between the foot of the bedstead and the door. they are covered with a dress." "right. i am now about to lower you into the boat. i will lower very gently. the moment your feet touch the boat, cough--but not loudly--as a sign for me to lower handsomely, for the rise and fall of the boat necessitates smart action. when you are safe--that is when you are gotten into the middle of the boat--sit down, and throw the rope off you. i will then send down the pitcher and bags by the line which you will cast adrift from them. it will then be my turn to join you." so saying i took her in my arms and lifted her on to the rail, seating her there an instant, then taking in one hand the end of the rope which was twisted round the stancheon, with the other i gently slided her over the rail, easing her down with my arm round her till she hung by the line. in another moment she was in the boat. i hauled up the line, went for the pitcher and bags and sent them down to her, she receiving and detaching them from the line with a promptitude equal to anything i could have hoped to find in that way in a sailor. i called to her softly--that she might know why i lingered--"i am going for the cloak," for the moment i saw it i had made up my mind to carry it off as a covering for imogene. i opened her cabin door breathlessly and peered out; then stole soft as a mouse to the cloak and threw it over my arm. the interior lay in a sullen gloom to the dim shining of the lamp. our stock of provisions was small, and my eye catching sight of the chest under the table i recollected having seen prins put a canvas bag full of biscuit into it after supper. this i resolved to take. so i went to the chest, raised the lid, and found the bag, but my hurry and agitation being great i let fall the lid which dropped with a noisy bang. heaping curses upon my clumsiness, i fled like a deer into the cabin and on to the quarter-gallery, threw the cloak and bag into the boat, and followed headlong down the rope i had left dangling from the rail. i was scarce arrived when the faint light that streamed from imogene's berth into the quarter-gallery was obscured, and to my horror i saw the loom of a human shape overhanging the rail. "imogene! imogene! come back--come back!" rang out vanderdecken's deep and thrilling voice. "herr fenton, restore to me the treasure thou wouldst rob me of and i swear not a single hair of thy head shall be harmed." in mad haste i sawed through the rope that held the boat with my pocket-knife. he could not see, but he heard me; and springing on to the rail, roared, in his thunderous notes, "arents, arents, the englishman hath seized one of the boats and is kidnapping miss dudley. do you hear me? speak--or you swing!" i heard the clattering of heavy boots running along the tall echoing poop high over our heads. "sir--sir--i am here! your orders, sir?" bawled arents. again roared out vanderdecken, in a hurricane note fit to awaken the echoes of the inland mountains, "the englishman is kidnapping miss dudley, and hath already seized the larger boat. send the men from the pump to man the other boat!" "no, by heaven, you don't!" i shouted, mad with the excitement of the minute. the line that held us was severed; the boat's head swung round; i leaned half my length over the gunwale, caught the other boat, and severed the rope that secured her to the ship; then, in a frenzy of haste, tumbled a couple of oars over and pulled away. but i had not measured five boat's lengths when the fog in which the ship, even at that short distance, lay completely swallowed was gashed and rent by a blaze of red fire. the explosion of a musket followed. i knew, by the flame leaping out of the quarter-gallery, that it was vanderdecken who had fired, and with set teeth strained with all my might at the oars. a dead stillness reigned. the clanking of the chains had ceased. i could hear nothing but the grind of the oars in the pins, and the sound of the water seething to the unnatural vigour with which i rowed. after a little i paused to gather from the noise of the surf how the boat headed. i bent my ear and found that the boiling was on my left. "how does it strike you, imogene?" i asked, in a broken voice, being terribly distressed for breath. she answered, very low, "the sound is on your left." "that should signify," said i, "that we are heading out to sea. the breakers are heavy in the west, and 'tis down there the noise of them seems greatest. we must head right out, or this bay will prove worse than a rat-trap." as i spoke i heard the scattering reports of some six or eight muskets discharged one after another, but the glare of the explosions was absorbed by the fog. "ha!" cried i; "they shoot in hope!" i fell to rowing again, and held to the weighty job stoutly for a good quarter-of-an-hour. weighty it was, for not only was the boat extremely cumbrous about the bows--if one square end of her more than another could be so termed--the oars were heavy, the blades being spoon-shaped, though flat, and the harder to work not only for the breadth of the boat, but because of the pins being fixed too far abaft the seats. i had now not much fear of being chased. even if they found the boat i had liberated by sending men overboard to swim in search of it--there was movement enough in the water to glide it very swiftly into obscurity--i did not apprehend they would venture to pursue me in so great a fog. i threw in my oars and listened. a faint air stirred in the blackness, and if i was correct in supposing that we were heading seawards, then this draught was coming about south-east. the sound of the surf was like a weak rumbling of thunder. i strained my hearing to the right--that is, to starboard, for i sat with my back to the bows; but though indeed i could catch a faint, far-off moan of washing waters that way, the noise of the boiling was on our left. "i am sure we are out of the bay," said i; "were we penetrating it we should be by this time among the breakers. i heartily pray now this fog will soon thin out. it may whiten into something like light when the moon rides high. there is a faint wind, and i should be glad to step the mast and set the sail. but that isn't to be done by feeling. besides, there is no rudder, and what there may be in the stern to steady an oar with i cannot conceive." i paused, thinking she would speak. finding she was silent, and fearing her to be cold and low-hearted, i said: "my dearest, you will gain confidence with the light. meanwhile, we have good reason to be grateful for this blackness. they might have killed us could they have seen the boat, for they were prompt with their fire-arms." "geoffrey, dear," she exclaimed, in the same low voice i had before noticed in her, "i fear i am wounded." "wounded!" i shrieked, springing to my feet. "the instant vanderdecken fired--if it was he--" she continued, "i felt a stinging blow in my shoulder. i am very cold just there; i am bleeding, i believe." "oh, my god! oh, my god!" i cried, for now she spoke at some little length i could hear in her voice the pain she was in; and the feebleness of her voice was like to break my heart, as was the thought of her suffering and bleeding in silence until i had rowed the boat a long distance from the ship. i felt for her, and took her in my arms, but the shiver that ran through her warned me that my caress increased her pain. i would have given ten years of my life for a light. 'twas maddening to have to sit in such blackness, with nothing but a dim star or two of the green sea-glow rising with the invisible heave of the water to the gunwale for the eye to rest upon, and to think of my precious one bleeding--perhaps wounded to death--utterly concealed from me, so that i could not staunch her wound, nor comfort her except by speech, nor help her in any way. 'twas the doing of vanderdecken! the murderer! oh, why, when there was all the wide black air for the shot to whistle through, had it struck my life, my love, the darling whom i had snatched to my heart from the huge desolation of the deep, and from the horrible companionship of beings accurst of god? i groped about for the cloak i had flung into the boat, and found it; i made a bed of it, and pulling off my jacket rolled it up into a pillow. i felt for her again, and told her that the bleeding might lessen if she would lie down. she answered, "i will lie down, dearest." i took her in my arms very tenderly and carefully, and laid her upon the cloak with the wounded shoulder uppermost, covered her as far as the skirts of the cloak would suffer, and chafed her hands. i was in so great a confusion and agony of mind that had i heard the dip of the oars astern and knew vanderdecken was after me in the other boat, i should not have let go her hand. i could not have stirred from my kneeling posture beside her to help myself. but now that we were out of the bay, as i might be sure by the sound of the surf, i knew that our keel would be in the grip of the westerly current, and that whether i rowed or not every hour must increase our distance from the death ship, and improve our prospect of escape. i asked her if she was thirsty, understanding how quickly wounded persons crave in this direction. she answered "no;" but, as i believed, out of the sweetness of her heart, to save me anguish by any kind of confession of suffering beyond what she had already owned to. believing her to be bleeding all the time, i held her hand, in constant expectation of feeling it frosted and turning heavy with death. the sea, in its mighty life of a thousand centuries, has upborne many dismal and affrighting pictures to the chill eye of the moon, to the fiery inspection of the sun, to the blindness of the cloud-blackened sky; but none worse than what our boat made; no torments direr than what i suffered. i could not see her face to observe whether she smiled upon me or not; the love in her eyes was hidden from me, and my heart could take no comfort from imagination when, for all i knew, the glazing of approaching dissolution might have iced those liquid violet impassioned depths into an unmeaning stare. add to her lying in the blackness, wounded and bleeding; add to the anguish with which i probed the ebon smother for the merest glimpse of her, till my eyes burned like red-hot balls of fire under my brows; add to this, those elements of mystery, of horror, which entered into and created that black, sightless time; the desolate thunder of surf, defining to the ear the leagues and leagues of savage coast aswarm with roaring beasts, with hissing reptiles, with creatures in human form fiercer and of crueller instincts than either; the magnitude of the ocean on whose breathing breast our tiny bark lay rocking; the wondrous darkness of the deep shadow of the fog upon the natural gloom of the night; the commingling of sullen and mysterious tones in the sulky obscurity--notes that seemed to come out of the seaward infinity, that seemed to rise from each swinging respiring fold under us, in voiceless sound that made you think of a moody conscience in some labouring breast troubling the ear of imagination with mutterings whose audibility was that of the inarticulate speech of phantoms. chapter xii. i am alone. it was about midnight, as i was able presently to gather, when a sort of paleness entered into the fog; and hard upon the heels of this change, the air, that had been weakly breathing, briskened somewhat, fetching a deeper echo from the booming roll of the surf on the starboard side; and the water came to the boat in a shivering phosphoric light of ripples that set her a-dabbling. the light brightening--that is the fog growing more luminous, without appearing to thin--the boat's outline lay visible, together with her furniture, such as the sail and the oars. i tenderly laid imogene's cold hand down, and turning the sail over, found--as i had expected--the mast lying under it; and partly peering and partly groping, i made out an iron clamp fitted to the foremost thwart or seat, with an hollow under it in the bottom of the boat for receiving the heel of the mast. i lifted the spar and very easily stepped it, discovering that the halliards for hoisting the sail were ready rove through a small block seized to the head of the mast. i hauled upon this rope to clear the sail, and perceived it to be shaped like a lug, fitted to a yard, only the yard was arched, causing the head of the sail to appear like a bow when the arrow is drawn upon it. before setting the sail i went aft, and by dint of feeling and staring discovered a rope grummet or hempen hook fastened to the larboard horn, but close in, so that it lay out of sight against the boat's stern. 'twas very clear that this was meant to receive an oar for steering; but whether or not it would serve my turn for that purpose; so without more ado i rove an oar through the grummet, then hoisted the sail, making the tack fast to the larboard horn on the bow, and came aft with the sheet. the boat instantly felt the pressure, and the wind being abaft the beam, she slipped along like a sledge, as you will suppose, when i say that her bottom was shaped like the side of a pea-shell, and that her whole frame might have been imitated from one of those black pods of sea-weed which are furnished by nature with wire-like projections, and which may be found in plenty upon our sea-coast. the oar controlled her capitally. the double motive i had for getting away from this place--first, to run out of the fog and so get light to enable me to minister to imogene, and next to remove myself so far from the death ship as to render pursuit hopeless even should the thickness in the bay clear up and enable vanderdecken to recover his boat which i had cut adrift; this double motive, i say, lifted my anxiety and eagerness to the height of madness. my dearest lay with her head towards me, and in the glistening white obscurity i could discern her pale face upon the pillow of my coat, but could not tell whether her eyes were open or shut. she did not moan; she lay as still as the dead. i asked her if she was in pain. she said "no," but in a voice so feeble that i had to bend my ear to catch the syllable. i could not think of her but as slowly dying to the streaming away of her precious blood. what to do i knew not; and in addition to this dreadful state of despair was the obligation upon me to watch the boat and shrewdly and seriously attend to my course by the warning surf-thunder floating back against the wind from the echoing strand. from time to time i would address imogene, always with a terror in me of winning no reply, of touching her and finding her dead. once she answered that she believed the bleeding in her shoulder had stopped; the icy-coldness was gone, and there was a small smarting there as if she had been burnt, but nothing that she could not easily endure. but i knew by the tone of her voice that she spoke only to give me comfort; either that she was suffering above the power of her love for me to conceal in her faltering whispers or that her strength was unequal to the labour of utterance. yet, as i have said, what could i do? i was no chirurgeon; and i wonder that my heart did not break to the bending of my scorching eyes upon my love lying wounded and bleeding at my feet. an hour passed; the fog still compassed us, but the white splendour of the moon was upon it. methought that i heard imogene whisper; i dropped on my knee, and she asked for water. i let go the steering oar, that jammed in the grummet and that could not therefore go adrift, and with great trouble found the little cup that i had hidden in one of the bags, and poured some water out of the pitcher into it. she moaned in pain when i put my arm under her head to raise it; but she drank greedily, nevertheless, and thanked me in a whisper when i tenderly let sink her head on to the jacket. i resumed my place at the oar, and through the blackness drove the boat, the sail pulling briskly, the water shining very brightly in our wake, and, as my ear seemed to fancy, the noise of the surf dwindling somewhat, whence i conjectured we were hauling off the coast and standing more directly seawards. i do not know that i should have been without hope for my beloved if it had not been for the haunting and blasting thought that nothing but misery could attend association with vanderdecken and his doomed ship. it seemed to me now--though on board i had been too eager to escape with her, too wrapped up in my love for such consideration to occupy my mind--that nothing less than the death of one of us could expiate our involuntary and unhappy connexion with the banned and fated craft. ships that spoke her perished, often with all hands; misfortunes pursued those who merely sighted her. what sort of death could the curse involve for one who had lived for years or for weeks in the monstrous fabric, who had conversed familiarly with her abhorred occupants, who had been admitted into close inspection of her secret life, beheld the enactment by vanderdecken in his sleep of the impious and horrible drama of his christ-defying wrath, eat of his bread, drank of his cup, yea, and hearkened with sympathy to his talk of home, to his yearning speech concerning those he loved there? the sense of the doom that was upon her as upon me--upon her in her young and beautiful life, upon me in my love for her, upon both in the crushing separation of the grave, whether 'twas for her to die or for me; oh! i say, the sense of this thing weighed as iron and as ice upon my heart, crushing out all hope and leaving me as blind in my soul as my eyes were in the fog to steer the boat through the silence of that vaporous night, hearing nothing but the rippling of the water, and the blunted edge of the surf's wild beat, and beholding nothing but the outline of my dearest--of my dearest--stricken and dying at my feet! suddenly the fog broke up. it was then about two o'clock. the vapour floated into league-long streaks, lunar-tinted here and there into an ærial mockery of the rainbow, and over the edge of one great steam-like body the moon with an ice-like, diamond-splendour of radiance looked down upon us out of a pool of black sky. the lustre had something of the sharpness of daylight, only that the flooded pearl of it wore the complexion of death, all things showing out wan; and in that illumination the delicate gold of imogene's hair melted into the extreme pallor of the forehead on which it stirred to the wind, and her lips were of the colour of her cheeks, and her half-closed lids like wax. i let go the oar to kneel and look at her. she lay so still, with such unheeding eyes, that i made sure she was dead, and my brain reeled as though my heart had stopped. i said hoarsely and hollowly, "imogene." the fringe of her eyelids trembled, and i marked a faint smile on her lips. "dearest," cried i, "how is it with thee?" she returned no answer. i said "i shall be able to see the wound now, and perhaps check the bleeding. i can cut the dress clear of the shoulder and you need not stir." she exclaimed--but, my god, how feebly!--"dearest, let me lie as i am," speaking with a sort of sigh between each word. and then she added, "kiss me." i pressed my lips to hers; they were cold as the mist that was passing away in wreaths and clouds. i saw how it was and let her have her way. it would have been cruel to touch her with more than my lips. and even though i should have cut away her apparel to the wound and saw it, what could i do? suppose the bleeding internal--the bullet lodged within, the lung touched, or some artery severed? a wild feeling seized me; i felt that i must leap upon a seat and rave out madly or my head would burst. the efforts to control myself left me trembling and weeping. i wiped from my brow the sweat that had leapt in drops there out of my weakness, and put my hand upon the oar afresh. the fog had settled away to leeward; it looked like a vast cliff of snow-covered ice, and the moonshine worked in it in shifting veins of delicate amber and dim steel-blue. out of it, trending a little to the south of west, rolled the loom of the dusky land; it died out in the showering haze of the moonlight, whence ran the dark sea-line to right astern of us--nothing in sight but the land growing out of the fog. over the horizon the stars hung like dew-drops, giving back the glory of the central luminary and set twinkling by the wind. they soared in sparkling dust, rich with large jewels, till they died out in the cold silvering of the sky round about the moon. my hysteric fit sobered down and i fell to sharply thinking. the nearest refuge was simon's bay, and that would lie some three or four hundred miles distant. how long would it take me to sail the boat there? why, 'twas a thing idle to calculate. give me steady favourable winds and smooth seas and i could answer; but here was a boat that, like the ship she belonged to, was fit only to be blown along. she could not beat, she had no keel for holding to the water. hence progress, if any was to be made, was so utterly a matter of chance that conjecture fell dead to the first effort of thought. if i was blown out to sea we might be picked up by a ship; if we were blown ashore i might contrive to find a smooth spot for landing; if the wind came away from the east and south it might, if it hung there, drive me round agulhas and perhaps to simon's bay. that's how it stood--no better anyhow; but how much worse you may reckon when you reflect in what part of the ocean we were, when you consider the season of the year, how few in comparison with the mighty expanse of those waters were the ships which sailed upon it, how worthless the boat as a sea-going fabric, how huge the billows which the gales raised, how murderous the shore to which the breakers, roaring on it, might forbid escape. twice my darling moaned for water. each time she thanked me with a smile, but the mere task of swallowing seemed to rob her lips of the power of pronouncing words. the moon went down in the west towards the black line of land, and when it hung a rusty-red over the ebon shadow under which trickled the blood-like flakes of its reflection, the dawn broke. for above an hour i had not been able to see imogene, so faint had fallen the light of the westering orb, and for longer than that time had she neither moaned, nor whispered, nor stirred. i directed my burning eyes into the east for the sun, and when the pink of him was in the sky, ere yet his brow had levelled the first flashing beam of day, i looked at imogene. i looked, and yet looked; then knelt. she was smiling, and by that i believed she lived; but when i peered into the half-closed lids--oh, great god! the sun flamed out of the sea in a leap then, and i sprang to my feet and cursed him with a scorching throat for finding me alone! the sequel to this extraordinary narrative must be told by another pen. on the morning of the second day of october, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-six, the full-rigged ship mary and james, bound from tonquin to london, dropped anchor in table bay. she had scarcely swung to her cable when the gig was lowered, and her master, captain william thunder, a small, bow-legged man, with a fiery nose and a brown wig, entered her and was rowed ashore. he marched, or rather rolled, into the town, which in those days was formed of a mere handful of low-roofed, strongly-built houses, and knocking at one of them, situated not a musket shot distant from the grounds of the building of the dutch east india company, inquired for mr. van stadens. the coloured slave, or servant, showed him into a parlour, and presently mr. van stadens, an extremely corpulent dutchman, entered. they talked awhile of business, for van stadens was the south african agent for the owner of the mary and james, and then said captain thunder: "mr. van stadens, i'm going to tell you the most wonderful thing you ever heard in all your life." "by gott, toonder, and so shall you," replied van stadens. "see here," said the captain, polishing his forehead with so much energy that he unconsciously shifted his wig, "we were about ninety miles to the eastwards of agulhas, the weather clear, the wind about south, a quiet breeze, the ship under all plain sail, and the second officer in charge of the deck, when a hand aloft sung out there was a vessel three points on the lee bow. when we had her in sight from the poop and caught her fair in the glass, i was so much struck by the cut of her canvas, which was a lug, narrow in the head and secured to a yard more arched than either of my legs, that i bore down to see what was to be made of her by a close squint." "so," said van stadens, crossing his legs and putting his hands upon his waistcoat in a posture of prayer. "she proved to be a canoe or boat," continued captain thunder, "rounded at bottom like one of crusoe's periaguas, with horns sticking out at each square end of her. she was, or i should say she had been, painted red inside. the blades of her oars, shaped like a japanese fan, were also painted red. her sail looked to be an hundred years old--i never saw the like of such canvas. the most perfect description of its colour, patches, texture would have sounded an abominable lie to me if i hadn't viewed it myself." "so," said van stadens, nodding upon his four chins, which resembled layers of pale gutta-percha, with the elastic properties of that stuff. "in fact," said captain thunder, "she was of the exact fashion of the boats you see in old dutch paintings--ship's boats, i mean." "how oldt?" asked van stadens. "two hundred years old," said captain thunder. "goot. is dot der fonder, toonder?" "not by all the distance from here to the top of table mountain, mr. van stadens," answered the captain. "i said to the second mate, 'that's no natural boat, mr. swillig. if she belongs to the age in which she appears to have been built she ought to have been powder or ooze a hundred and fifty years ago. can you make out anybody in her?' he said 'no,' and argued with me that there was something unnatural about her, and recommended that we should haul to the wind again and appear as if we hadn't seen her, but my curiosity was tickled and we stood on. well, mr. van stadens, we passed close and what we saw fetched a groan out of every man that was looking and brought our main-topsail to the mast in the wink of a muskeety's eye, sir. a girl lay dead in the bottom of the boat. she looked beautiful in death, in life she must have been as lovely as the prettiest of the angels of god. but her dress! why, mr. van stadens, it belonged to the time the boat was built in. ay, as i sit here to say it!" the dutchman shook his head. "you shall see it for yourself, sir--you shall see it for yourself!" cried captain thunder, with excitement. "we all said she had been floating about in that boat for two hundred years, and was a dead saint watched by the eye of god, and not to be corrupted as you and me would be. there were three dagos in our crew, and when they saw her they crossed themselves. but that wasn't all--not nearly all. in the bows lay the figure of a seaman--an english sailor, dressed as my mate is. we thought he was dead, too, till we lowered a boat, when on a sudden he lifted his head out of his arms and looked at us. there was a shine in his eye that showed us his wits were gone. such a haggard face, mr. van stadens!--unshaven for weeks, and his hair all of a mat; yet you saw he had been a handsome man and was a young one too. well, his being alive settled any hesitation i might have felt had they both been corpses. i sung out to my second mate to bring him aboard and the girl's body also, proposing decent burial; but the sailor man wasn't to be coaxed out of the boat; he grinned with rage to mr. swillig's invitations, flung himself upon the girl's body, howling like a dog when my men boarded him, and caused such a scuffle and a melee that both boats came very near to being swampt. they bound him with the painter, and brought him and the corpse on board along with three bags of provisions-such bags, mr. van stadens, and such provisions, sir! but ye shall see 'em--ye shall see 'em, and a pitcher half full of water and a silver cup----" "eh?" grumbled van stadens. "a silver cup." "so," said the dutchman. "now ve com to der fonders." "ay, sir, as you say. look here!" he pulled a ring out of his waistcoat pocket and held it up. it was a diamond ring of splendour and beauty. the gems flashed gloriously and van stadens gaped at their brilliance like a wolf yawning at the moon. "vere got you dot, toonder? "off the girl's finger. 'tis but one, mr. van stadens." "but fon, hey! by toonder, toonder, but dot ring is der fonderfullest part of your story as yet." he took it in his hand and his eyes danced greedily to the sparkle of the beautiful bauble. "well," continued captain thunder, "we put the man into a spare cabin, and gave the job of watching him to the steward, a stout hearty fellow. the girl was stone-dead, of course. i ordered her dress, jacket and hat to be removed, likewise the jewellery about her--specially a noble rope of pearls----" "by toonder, no! you shoke, toonder!" cried van stadens. "ye shall see with your own eyes--ye shall see with your own eyes!" exclaimed the captain. "i gave these orders more with the idea of the things proving of use to identify her by than for their value. i never saw such under-linen, sir. 'twas exquisitely fine and choice. beyond description, mr. van stadens. there was a ball-wound in her shoulder, with a caking of blood about it. that the fellow below had done this thing i could not suppose. there were no arms of any kind--if you except a big clasp knife--on him or in his boat. we buried the poor, sweet, murdered thing in her fine linen, giving her a sailor's hammock for a coffin and a sailor's toss for a last farewell. as for the boat, she looked unnatural and unlucky, and i think my men would have mutinied if i had ordered them to sling her over the side. we unstepped the mast and sent her adrift for the man she belongs to to pick up, if so be he stands in need of her." "vot man?" inquired van stadens. "vanderdecken," responded captain thunder, in a low voice, and with as much awe in his face as his fiery pimple of a nose would suffer to appear. "vot!" shouted van stadens. "der flying deutchman!" captain thunder nodded. the other smiled, and then broke into a roar of laughter. "hark, mr. van stadens, wait till i've done," exclaimed thunder, with his face full of blood. "all that day the man remained moody, with a lunatic's sullenness. he refused to eat or drink. i was in and out a dozen times but couldn't get him to speak. well, sir, at nine o'clock in the night the steward came and told me he was asleep. he was watched all night, but never stirred; all next night, and the day after that, and the night after that, sir, but he never stirred. for sixty hours he slept, mr. van stadens, or may i not leave this room alive! and i thought he meant dying in that fashion. then he awoke, sat up and talked rationally. his mind had come back to him and he was as sensible as you or me." "vell?" "well, he fed and rested a bit, and then feeling stronger, he told me his story." and here captain thunder repeated what is already known to the reader. mr. van stadens listened with his fat face full of incredulity. "'tis fonderful, inteet," said he, "but it isn't true." "i believe every word of it," said thunder. "blast the flying dutchman! who doubts him?" "your sailor man is mad," said van stadens. "oh, indeed," sneered thunder. "then account to me for the boat i saw him in, for his female companion lying dead of a gunshot wound; for this," said he, holding up the diamond ring, "and for other matters i'll show you when we get aboard." "ve vill go on boort at oonst," cried van stadens. they repaired to the ship and found geoffrey fenton in the cabin. he looked haggard, weak, extremely sorrowful; but he was as sane as ever he had been at any time of his life. thunder introduced van stadens, and to this dutchman fenton repeated his story, relating it so artlessly, with such minuteness of detail, above all unconsciously using so many old-fashioned dutch words, which he had acquired from vanderdecken, that the wonder in van stadens' face grew into a look of stupefaction. he muttered, frequently, "fonderful! fonderful! by toonder, amazing!" but the measure of captain thunder's triumph over the agent's incredulity was not full till the articles belonging to fenton--for so they were regarded--were produced. van stadens examined the pearls, the rings which poor imogene had worn, the silver goblet, the antique dress, jacket and sealskin cap, vanderdecken's velvet cloak, the pitcher, the articles of food which had been preserved, these things, i say, van stadens examined with mingled admiration and consternation, such as a man might feel to whom another exhibits a treasure he has sold his soul to the devil for. "do you believe now!" cried captain thunder. "it is fonderful! it is fonderful!" returned the dutchman. "do you go home with toonder, herr fenton?" "no," said thunder, "i am sorry; i dare not do it. the crew have got scent of the experiences of our friend here and wouldn't sail with him for tenfold the value of the plate and silver in the death ship's hold." "i do not blame them," said fenton, with a melancholy smile. "what i have proposed to mr. fenton is this, mr. van stadens," said the captain: "you are a man of honour and will see that right is done to this poor gentleman." "so," said van stadens. "let these articles be sold," continued thunder. "all but the diamond ring," interrupted fenton. "all but the diamond ring," said the captain. "no one need know how they were obtained; not a syllable of mr. fenton's story must be repeated; otherwise he'll get no ship to carry him home." van stadens turned to fenton and said in dutch: "i will buy these goods from you. their value shall be assessed to our common satisfaction. meanwhile, a room in my house--my house itself--is at your service. remain awhile to recruit your strength, and i will secure you a passage to amsterdam in the indiaman that is due here about the end of this month." they shook hands, and half-an-hour later fenton had taken leave of captain thunder and his ship. it is proper to say here that the hospitable but shrewd dutchman gave fenton eight hundred dollars for the vanderdecken relics, and when fenton had sailed, sold them for three thousand ducatoons, of eighty stivers each, after clearing some thousands of dollars by exhibiting them. the subsequent safe arrival of geoffrey fenton in europe may be gathered from his narrative. necessity forced him back to his old vocation and he continued at sea, holding various important commands down to the age of sixty. among his papers is a curious note relating to the fate of the vessels which had encountered the death ship during the time to which his narrative refers. the plymouth snow, after speaking the saracen, was never again heard of; the saracen was lost on one of the islands of the chagos archipelago, but her people were saved to a man by the boats. the centaur, three days after sighting the death ship, was dismasted in a hurricane and struggled into simon's bay in a sinking condition. the fate of the french corsair is not known, but it is satisfactory to know that the james and mary reached the thames in safety after an uneventful passage. the end. printed by tillotson and son, mawdsley street bolton hurst & blackett's standard library. [illustration] london: , great marlborough street, w. hurst & blackett's standard library of cheap editions of popular modern works. illustrated by sir j. e. millais, sir j. gilbert, holman hunt, birket foster, john leech, john tenniel, j. laslett pott, etc. each in a single volume, with frontispiece, price s. i.--sam slick's nature and human nature. "the first volume of messrs. hurst and blackett's standard library of cheap editions forms a very good beginning to what will doubtless be a very successful undertaking. 'nature and human nature' is one of the best of sam slick's witty and humorous productions, and well entitled to the large circulation which it cannot fail to obtain in its present convenient and cheap shape. the volume combines with the great recommendations of a clear, bold type and good paper, the lesser, but attractive merits of being well illustrated and elegantly bound."--_morning post._ ii.--john halifax, gentleman. "the new and cheaper edition of this interesting work will doubtless meet with great success. john halifax, the hero of this most beautiful story, is no ordinary hero, and this his history is no ordinary book. it is a full-length portrait of a true gentleman, one of nature's own nobility. it is also the history of a home, and a thoroughly english one. the work abounds in incident, and many of the scenes are full of graphic power and true pathos. it is a book that few will read without becoming wiser and better."--_scotsman._ "this story is very interesting. the attachment between john halifax and his wife is beautifully painted, as are the pictures of their domestic life, and the growing up of their children; and the conclusion of the book is beautiful and touching."--_athenæum._ iii.--the crescent and the cross. by eliot warburton. "independent of its value as an original narrative, and its useful and interesting information, this work is remarkable for the colouring power and play of fancy with which its descriptions are enlivened. among its greatest and most lasting charms is its reverent and serious spirit."--_quarterly review._ "mr. warburton has fulfilled the promise of his title-page. the 'realities of eastern travel' are described with a vividness which invests them with deep and abiding interest; while the 'romantic' adventures which the enterprising tourist met with in his course are narrated with a spirit which shows how much he enjoyed these reliefs from the ennui of every-day life."--_globe._ iv.--nathalie. by julia kavanagh. "'nathalie' is miss kavanagh's best imaginative effort. its manner is gracious and attractive. its matter is good. a sentiment, a tenderness, are commanded by her which are as individual as they are elegant. we should not soon come to an end were we to specify all the delicate touches and attractive pictures which place 'nathalie' high among books of its class."--_athenæum._ v.--a woman's thoughts about women. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "these thoughts are good and humane. they are thoughts we would wish women to think: they are much more to the purpose than the treatises upon the women and daughters of england, which were fashionable some years ago, and these thoughts mark the progress of opinion, and indicate a higher tone of character, and a juster estimate of woman's position."--_athenæum._ "this excellent book is characterised by good sense, good taste, and feeling, and is written in an earnest, philanthropic, as well as practical spirit."--_morning post._ vi.--adam graeme of mossgray. by mrs. oliphant. "'adam graeme' is a story awakening genuine emotions of interest and delight by its admirable pictures of scottish life and scenery. the plot is cleverly complicated, and there is great vitality in the dialogue, and remarkable brilliancy in the descriptive passages, as who that has read 'margaret maitland' would not be prepared to expect? but the story has a 'mightier magnet still,' in the healthy tone which pervades it, in its feminine delicacy of thought and diction, and in the truly womanly tenderness of its sentiments. the eloquent author sets before us the essential attributes of christian virtue, their deep and silent workings in the heart, and their beautiful manifestations in the life, with a delicacy, a power, and a truth which can hardly be surpassed."--_morning post._ vii.--sam slick's wise saws and modern instances. "we have not the slightest intention to criticise this book. its reputation is made, and will stand as long as that of scott's or bulwer's novels. the remarkable originality of its purpose, and the happy description it affords of american life and manners, still continue the subject of universal admiration. to say thus much is to say enough, though we must just mention that the new edition forms a part of the publishers' cheap standard library, which has included some of the very best specimens of light literature that ever have been written."--_messenger._ viii.--cardinal wiseman's recollections of the last four popes. "a picturesque book on rome and its ecclesiastical sovereigns, by an eloquent roman catholic. cardinal wiseman has here treated a special subject with so much generality and geniality that his recollections will excite no ill-feeling in those who are most conscientiously opposed to every idea of human infallibility represented in papal domination."--_athenæum._ ix.--a life for a life. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "we are always glad to welcome mrs. craik. she writes from her own convictions, and she has the power not only to conceive clearly what it is that she wishes to say, but to express it in language effective and vigorous. in 'a life for a life' she is fortunate in a good subject, and she has produced a work of strong effect. the reader, having read the book through for the story, will be apt (if he be of our persuasion) to return and read again many pages and passages with greater pleasure than on a first perusal. the whole book is replete with a graceful, tender delicacy; and, in addition to its other merits, it is written in good careful english."--_athenæum._ "'a life for a life' is a book of a high class. the characters are depicted with a masterly hand; the events are dramatically set forth; the descriptions of scenery and sketches of society are admirably penned; moreover, the work has an object--a clearly defined moral--most poetically, most beautifully drawn, and through all there is that strong, reflective mind visible which lays bare the human heart and human mind to the very core."--_morning post._ x.--the old court suburb. by leigh hunt. "a book which has afforded us no slight gratification."--_athenæum._ "from the mixture of description, anecdote, biography, and criticism, this book is very pleasant reading."--_spectator._ "a more agreeable and entertaining book has not been published since boswell produced his reminiscences of johnson."--_observer._ xi.--margaret and her bridesmaids. by the author of "the valley of a hundred fires." "we recommend all who are in search of a fascinating novel to read this work for themselves. they will find it well worth their while. there are a freshness and originality about it quite charming, and there is a certain nobleness in the treatment both of sentiment and incident which is not often found."--_athenæum._ xii.--the old judge; or, life in a colony. by sam slick. "a peculiar interest attaches to sketches of colonial life, and readers could not have a safer guide than the talented author of this work, who, by a residence of half a century, has practically grasped the habits, manners, and social conditions of the colonists he describes. all who wish to form a fair idea of the difficulties and pleasures of life in a new country, unlike england in some respects, yet like it in many, should read this book."--_john bull._ xiii.--darien; or, the merchant prince. by eliot warburton. "this last production of the author of 'the crescent and the cross' has the same elements of a very wide popularity. it will please its thousands."--_globe._ "eliot warburton's active and productive genius is amply exemplified in the present book. we have seldom met with any work in which the realities of history and the poetry of fiction were more happily interwoven."--_illustrated news._ xiv.--family romance; or, domestic annals of the aristocracy. by sir bernard burke, ulster king of arms. "it were impossible to praise too highly this most interesting book, whether we should have regard to its excellent plan or its not less excellent execution. it ought to be found on every drawing-room table. here you have nearly fifty captivating romances with the pith of all their interest preserved in undiminished poignancy, and any one may be read in half an hour. it is not the least of their merits that the romances are founded on fact--or what, at least, has been handed down for truth by long tradition--and the romance of reality far exceeds the romance of fiction."--_standard._ xv.--the laird of norlaw. by mrs. oliphant. "we have had frequent opportunities of commending messrs. hurst and blackett's standard library. for neatness, elegance, and distinctness the volumes in this series surpass anything with which we are familiar. 'the laird of norlaw' will fully sustain the author's high reputation. the reader is carried on from first to last with an energy of sympathy that never flags."--_sunday times._ "'the laird of norlaw' is worthy of the author's reputation. it is one of the most exquisite of modern novels."--_observer._ xvi.--the englishwoman in italy. by mrs. g. gretton. "mrs. gretton had opportunities which rarely fall to the lot of strangers of becoming acquainted with the inner life and habits of a part of the italian peninsula which is the very centre of the national crisis. we can praise her performance as interesting, unexaggerated, and full of opportune instruction."--_the times._ "mrs. gretton's book is timely, life-like, and for every reason to be recommended. it is impossible to close the book without liking the writer as well as the subject. the work is engaging, because real."--_athenæum._ xvii.--nothing new. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "'nothing new' displays all those superior merits which have made 'john halifax' one of the most popular works of the day. there is a force and truthfulness about these tales which mark them as the production of no ordinary mind, and we cordially recommend them to the perusal of all lovers of fiction."--_morning post._ xviii.--life of jeanne d'albret, queen of navarre. by miss freer. "we have read this book with great pleasure, and have no hesitation in recommending it to general perusal. it reflects the highest credit on the industry and ability of miss freer. nothing can be more interesting than her story of the life of jeanne d'albret, and the narrative is as trustworthy as it is attractive."--_morning post._ xix.--the valley of a hundred fires. by the author of "margaret and her bridesmaids." "if asked to classify this work, we should give it a place between 'john halifax' and 'the caxtons.'"--_standard._ "the spirit in which the whole book is written is refined and good."--_athenæum._ "this is in every sense a charming novel."--_messenger._ xx.--the romance of the forum; or, narratives, scenes, and anecdotes from courts of justice. by peter burke, serjeant at law. "this attractive book will he perused with much interest. it contains a great variety of singular and highly romantic stories."--_john bull._ "a work of singular interest, which can never fail to charm and absorb the reader's attention. the present cheap and elegant edition includes the true story of the colleen bawn."--_illustrated news._ xxi.--adÈle. by julia kavanagh. "'adèle' is the best work we have read by miss kavanagh; it is a charming story, full of delicate character-painting. the interest kindled in the first chapter burns brightly to the close."--_athenæum._ "'adèle' will fully sustain the reputation of miss kavanagh, high as it already ranks."--_john bull._ "'adèle' is a love-story of very considerable pathos and power. it is a very clever novel."--_daily news._ xxii.--studies from life. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "these 'studies' are truthful and vivid pictures of life, often earnest, always full of right fueling, and occasionally lightened by touches of quiet, genial humour. the volume is remarkable for thought, sound sense, shrewd observation, and kind and sympathetic feeling for all things good and beautiful."--_morning post._ "these 'studies from life' are remarkable for graphic power and observation. the book will not diminish the reputation of the accomplished author."--_saturday review._ xxiii.--grandmother's money. by f. w. robinson. "we commend 'grandmother's money' to readers in search of a good novel. the characters are true to human nature, and the story is interesting."--_athenæum._ xxiv.--a book about doctors. by john cordy jeaffreson. "a book to be read and re-read; fit for the study as well as the drawing-room table and the circulating library."--_lancet._ "this is a pleasant book for the fireside season, and for the seaside season. mr. jeaffreson has, out of hundreds of volumes, collected thousands of good things, adding thereto much that appears in print for the first time, and which, of course, gives increased value to this very readable book."--_athenæum._ xxv.--no church. by f. w. robinson. "we advise all who have the opportunity to read this book. it is well worth the study."--_athenæum._ "a work of great originality, merit, and power."--_standard._ xxvi.--mistress and maid. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "a good wholesome book, gracefully written, and as pleasant to read as it is instructive."--_athenæum._ "a charming tale, charmingly told."--_standard._ "all lovers of a good novel will hail with delight another of mrs. craik's charming stories."--_john bull._ xxvii.--lost and saved. by the hon. mrs. norton. "'lost and saved' will be read with eager interest by those who love a touching story. it is a vigorous novel."--_times._ "this story is animated, full of exciting situations and stirring incidents. the characters are delineated with great power. above and beyond these elements of a good novel, there is that indefinable charm with which true genius invests all it touches."--_daily news._ xxviii.--les miserables. by victor hugo. _authorised copyright english translation._ "the merits of 'les miserables' do not merely consist in the conception of it as a whole; it abounds with details of unequalled beauty. m. victor hugo has stamped upon every page the hall-mark of genius."--_quarterly review._ xxix.--barbara's history. by amelia b. edwards. "it is not often that we light upon a novel of so much merit and interest as 'barbara's history.' it is a work conspicuous for taste and literary culture. it is a very graceful and charming book, with a well-managed story, clearly-cut characters, and sentiments expressed with an exquisite elocution. the dialogues especially sparkle with repartee. it is a book which the world will like. this is high praise of a work of art and so we intend it."--_the times._ xxx.--life of the rev. edward irving. by mrs. oliphant. "a good book on a most interesting theme."--_times._ "a truly interesting and most affecting memoir. 'irving's life' ought to have a niche in every gallery of religious biography. there are few lives that will be fuller of instruction, interest, and consolation."--_saturday review._ xxxi.--st. olave's. by the author of "janita's cross." "this novel is the work of one who possesses a great talent for writing, as well as experience and knowledge of the world. the whole book is worth reading."--_athenæum._ "'st olave's' belongs to a lofty order of fiction. it is a good novel, but it is something more. it is written with unflagging ability, and it is as even as it is clever. the author has determined to do nothing short of the best, and has succeeded."--_morning post._ xxxii.--sam slick's traits of american humour. "dip where you will into this lottery of fun, you are sure to draw out a prize. these 'traits' exhibit most successfully the broad national features of american humour."--_post._ xxxiii.--christian's mistake. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "a more charming story has rarely been written. it is a choice gift to be able thus to render human nature so truly, to penetrate its depths with such a searching sagacity, and to illuminate them with a radiance so eminently the writer's own."--_times._ xxxiv.--alec forbes of howglen. by george mac donald, ll.d. "no account of this story would give any idea of the profound interest that pervades the work from the first page to the last."--_athenæum._ "a novel of uncommon merit. sir walter scott said he would advise no man to try to read 'clarissa harlowe' out loud in company if he wished to keep his character for manly superiority to tears. we fancy a good many hardened old novel-readers will feel a rising in the throat as they follow the fortunes of alec and annie."--_pall mall gazette._ xxxv.--agnes. by mrs. oliphant. "'agnes' is a novel superior to any of mrs. oliphant's former works."--_athenæum._ "mrs. oliphant is one of the most admirable of our novelists. in her works there are always to be found high principle, good taste, sense, and refinement. 'agnes' is a story whose pathetic beauty will appeal irresistibly to all readers."--_morning post._ xxxvi.--a noble life. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "few men and no women will read 'a noble life' without feeling themselves the better for the effort."--_spectator._ "a beautifully written and touching tale. it is a noble book."--_morning post._ "'a noble life' is remarkable for the high types of character it presents, and the skill with which they are made to work out a story of powerful and pathetic interest."--_daily news._ xxxvii.--new america. by w. hepworth dixon. "a very interesting book. mr. dixon has written thoughtfully and well."--_times._ "we recommend everyone who feels any interest in human nature to read mr. dixon's very interesting book."--_saturday review._ xxxviii.--robert falconer. by george mac donald, ll.d. "'robert falconer' is a work brimful of life and humour and of the deepest human interest. it is a book to be returned to again and again for the deep and searching knowledge it evinces of human thoughts and feelings."--_athenæum._ xxxix.--the woman's kingdom. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "'the woman's kingdom' sustains the author's reputation as a writer of the purest and noblest kind of domestic stories."--_athenæum._ "'the woman's kingdom' is remarkable for its romantic interest. the characters are masterpieces. edna is worthy of the hand that drew john halifax."--_morning post._ xl.--annals of an eventful life. by george webbe dasent, d.c.l. "a racy, well-written, and original novel. the interest never flags. the whole work sparkles with wit and humour."--_quarterly review._ xli.--david elginbrod. by george mac donald, ll.d. "a novel which is the work of a man of genius. it will attract the highest class of readers."--_times._ xlii.--a brave lady. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "we earnestly recommend this novel. it is a special and worthy specimen of the author's remarkable powers. the reader's attention never for a moment flags."--_post._ "'a brave lady' thoroughly rivets the unmingled sympathy of the reader, and her history deserves to stand foremost among the author's works."--_daily telegraph._ xliii.--hannah. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "a very pleasant, healthy story, well and artistically told. the book is sure of a wide circle of readers. the character of hannah is one of rare beauty."--_standard._ "a powerful novel of social and domestic life. one of the most successful efforts of a successful novelist."--_daily news._ xliv.--sam slick's americans at home. "this is one of the most amusing books that we ever read."--_standard._ "'the americans at home' will not be less popular than any of judge halliburton's previous works."--_morning post._ xlv.--the unkind word. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "these stories are gems of narrative. indeed, some of them, in their touching grace and simplicity, seem to us to possess a charm even beyond the authoress's most popular novels. of none of them can this be said more emphatically than of that which opens the series 'the unkind word.' it is wonderful to see the imaginative power displayed in the few delicate touches by which this successful love-story is sketched out."--_the echo._ xlvi.--a rose in june. by mrs. oliphant. "'a rose in june' is as pretty as its title. the story is one of the best and most touching which we owe to the industry and talent of mrs. oliphant, and may hold its own with even 'the chronicles of carlingford.'"--_times._ xlvii.--my little lady. by e. frances poynter. "this story presents a number of vivid and very charming pictures. indeed, the whole book is charming. it is interesting in both character and story, and thoroughly good of its kind."--_saturday review._ xlviii.--phoebe, junior. by mrs. oliphant. "this last 'chronicle of carlingford' not merely takes rank fairly beside the first which introduced us to 'salem chapel,' but surpasses all the intermediate records. phoebe, junior, herself is admirably drawn."--_academy._ xlix.--life of marie antoinette. by professor charles duke yonge. "a work of remarkable merit and interest, which will, we doubt not, become the most popular english history of marie antoinette."--_spectator._ l.--sir gibbie. by george mac donald, ll.d. "'sir gibbie' is a book of genius."--_pall mall gazette._ "this book has power, pathos, and humour."--_athenæum._ li.--young mrs. jardine. by the author of "john halifax, gentleman." "'young mrs. jardine' is a pretty story, written in pure english."--_the times._ "there is much good feeling in this book. it is pleasant and wholesome."--_athenæum._ lii.--lord brackenbury. by amelia b. edwards. "a very readable story. the author has well conceived the purpose of high-class novel-writing, and succeeded in no small measure in attaining it. there is plenty of variety, cheerful dialogue, and general 'verve' in the book."--_athenæum._ liii.--it was a lover and his lass. by mrs. oliphant. "in 'it was a lover and his lass,' we admire mrs. oliphant exceedingly. it would be worth reading a second time, were it only for the sake of one ancient scottish spinster, who is nearly the counterpart of the admirable mrs. margaret maitland."--_times._ liv.--the real lord byron--the story of the poet's life. by john cordy jeaffreson. "mr. jeaffreson comes forward with a narrative which must take a very important place in byronic literature; and it may reasonably be anticipated that this book will be regarded with deep interest by all who are concerned in the works and the fame of this great english poet."--_the times._ works by the author of 'sam slick, the clockmaker.' _each in one volume, frontispiece, and uniformly bound, price s._ nature and human nature. "we enjoy our old friend's company with unabated relish. this work is a rattling miscellany of sharp sayings, stories, and hard hits. it is full of fun and fancy."--_athenæum._ "since sam's first work he has written nothing so fresh, racy, and genuinely humorous as this. every line of it tells in some way or other--instructively, satirically, jocosely, or wittily. admiration of sam's mature talents, and laughter at his droll yarns, constantly alternate as with unhalting avidity we peruse the work. the clockmaker proves himself the fastest time-killer a-going."--_observer._ wise saws and modern instances. "this delightful book will be the most popular, as beyond doubt it is the best, of all the author's admirable works."--_standard._ "the book before us will be read and laughed over. its quaint and racy dialect will please some readers--its abundance of yarns will amuse others. there is something to suit readers of every humour."--_athenæum._ "the humour of sam slick is inexhaustible. he is ever and everywhere a welcome visitor; smiles greet his approach, and wit and wisdom hang upon his tongue. we promise our readers a great treat from the perusal of these 'wise saws,' which contain a world of practical wisdom, and a treasury of the richest fun."--_morning post._ the old judge; or, life in a colony. "by common consent this work is regarded as one of the raciest, truest to life, most humorous, and most interesting works which have proceeded from the prolific pen of its author. we all know what shrewdness of observation, what power of graphic description, what natural resources of drollery, and what a happy method of hitting off the broader characteristics of the life he reviews, belong to judge haliburton. we have all those qualities here; but they are balanced by a serious literary purpose, and are employed in the communication of information respecting certain phases of colonial experience which impart to the work an element of sober utility."--_sunday times._ traits of american humour. "no man has done more than the facetious judge haliburton, through the mouth of the inimitable 'sam,' to make the old parent country recognise and appreciate her queer transatlantic progeny. his present collection of comic stories and laughable traits is a budget of fun, full of rich specimens of american humour."--_globe._ "yankeeism, portrayed in its raciest aspect, constitutes the contents of these superlatively entertaining sketches. the work embraces the most varied topics--political parties, religious eccentricities, the flights of literature, and the absurdities of pretenders to learning, all come in for their share of satire; while we have specimens of genuine american exaggerations and graphic pictures of social and domestic life as it is. the work will have a wide circulation."--_john bull._ the americans at home. "in this highly entertaining work we are treated to another cargo of capital stories from the inexhaustible store of our yankee friend. in the volume before us he dishes up, with his accustomed humour and terseness of style, a vast number of tales, none more entertaining than another, and all of them graphically illustrative of the ways and manners of brother jonathan. the anomalies of american law, the extraordinary adventures incident to life in the backwoods, and, above all, the peculiarities of american society, are variously, powerfully, and, for the most part, amusingly exemplified."--_john bull._ "in the picturesque delineation of character, and the felicitous portraiture of national features, no writer equals judge haliburton, and the subjects embraced in the present delightful book call forth, in new and vigorous exercise, his peculiar powers. 'the americans at home' will not be less popular than any of his previous works."--_post._ london: hurst and blackett, limited. works by the author of john halifax, gentleman. _each in one volume, frontispiece, and uniformly bound, price s._ john halifax, gentleman. "this is a very good and a very interesting work. it is designed to trace the career from boyhood to age of a perfect man--a christian gentleman, and it abounds in incident both well and highly wrought. throughout it is conceived in a high spirit, and written with great ability. this cheap and handsome new edition is worthy to pass freely from hand to hand as a gift-book in many households."--_examiner._ "the story is very interesting. the attachment between john halifax and his wife is beautifully painted, as are the pictures of their domestic life, and the growing up of their children, and the conclusion of the book is beautiful and touching."--_athenæum._ "the new and cheaper edition of this interesting work will doubtless meet with great success. john halifax, the hero of this most beautiful story, is no ordinary hero, and this his history is no ordinary book. it is a full-length portrait of a true gentleman, one of nature's own nobility. it is also the history of a home, and a thoroughly english one. the work abounds in incident, and is full of graphic power and true pathos. it is a book that few will read without becoming wiser and better."--_scotsman._ a woman's thoughts about women. "a book of sound counsel. it is one of the most sensible works of its kind, well written, true-hearted, and altogether practical. whoever wishes to give advice to a young lady may thank the author for means of doing so."--_examiner._ "these thoughts are worthy of the earnest and enlightened mind, the all-embracing charity, and the well-earned reputation of the author of 'john halifax.'"--_standard._ "this excellent book is characterised by good sense, good taste, and feeling, and is written in an earnest, philanthropic, as well as practical spirit."--_post._ a life for a life. "we are always glad to welcome this author. she writes from her own convictions, and she has the power not only to conceive clearly what it is that she wishes to say, but to express it in language effective and vigorous. in 'a life for a life' she is fortunate in a good subject, and she has produced a work of strong effect. the reader, having read the book through for the story, will be apt (if he be of our persuasion) to return and read again many pages and passages with greater pleasure than on a first perusal. the whole book is replete with a graceful, tender delicacy; and, in addition to its other merits, it is written in good careful english."--_athenæum._ nothing new. "'nothing new' displays all those superior merits which have made 'john halifax' one of the most popular works of the day."--_post._ "the reader will find these narratives calculated to remind him of that truth and energy of human portraiture, that spell over human affections and emotions, which have stamped this author as one of the first novelists of our day."--_john bull._ the woman's kingdom. "'the woman's kingdom' sustains the author's reputation as a writer of the purest and noblest kind of domestic stories. the novelist's lesson is given with admirable force and sweetness."--_athenæum._ "'the woman's kingdom' is remarkable for its romantic interest. the characters are masterpieces. edna is worthy of the hand that drew john halifax."--_post._ studies from life. "these studies are truthful and vivid pictures of life, often earnest, always full of right feeling, and occasionally lightened by touches of quiet genial humour. the volume is remarkable for thought, sound sense, shrewd observation, and kind and sympathetic feeling for all things good and beautiful."--_post._ christian's mistake. "a more charming story, to our taste, has rarely been written. within the compass of a single volume the writer has hit off a circle of varied characters, all true to nature--some true to the highest nature--and she has entangled them in a story which keeps us in suspense till the knot is happily and gracefully resolved; while, at the same time, a pathetic interest is sustained by an art of which it would be difficult to analyse the secret. it is a choice gift to be able thus to render human nature so truly, to penetrate its depths with such a searching sagacity, and to illuminate them with a radiance so eminently the writer's own. even if tried by the standard of the archbishop of york, we should expect that even he would pronounce 'christian's mistake' a novel without a fault."--_the times._ "this is a story good to have from the circulating library, but better to have from one's bookseller, for it deserves a place in that little collection of clever and wholesome stories which forms one of the comforts of a well-appointed home."--_examiner._ mistress and maid. "a good, wholesome book, as pleasant to read as it is instructive."--_athenæum._ "this book is written with the same true-hearted earnestness as 'john halifax.' the spirit of the whole work is excellent."--_examiner._ "a charming tale charmingly told."--_standard._ a noble life. "this is one of those pleasant tales in which the author of 'john halifax' speaks out of a generous heart the purest truths of life.'--_examiner._ "few men, and no women, will read 'a noble life' without finding themselves the better."--_spectator._ "a story of powerful and pathetic interest."--_daily news._ a brave lady. "a very good novel, showing a tender sympathy with human nature, and permeated by a pure and noble spirit."--_examiner._ "a most charming story."--_standard._ "we earnestly recommend this novel. it is a special and worthy specimen of the author's remarkable powers. the reader's attention never for a moment flags."--_post._ hannah. "a powerful novel of social and domestic life. one of the most successful efforts of a successful novelist."--_daily news._ "a very pleasant, healthy story, well and artistically told. the book is sure of a wide circle of readers. the character of hannah is one of rare beauty."--_standard._ the unkind word. "the author of 'john halifax' has written many fascinating stories, but we can call to mind nothing from her pen that has a more enduring charm than the graceful sketches in this work. such a character as jessie stands out from a crowd of heroines as the type of all that is truly noble, pure, and womanly."--_united service magazine._ young mrs. jardine. "'young mrs. jardine' is a pretty story, written in pure english."--_the times._ "there is much good feeling in this book. it is pleasant and wholesome."--_athenæum._ "a book that all should read. whilst it is quite the equal of any of its predecessors in elevation of thought and style, it is perhaps their superior in interest of plot and dramatic intensity. the characters are admirably delineated, and the dialogue is natural and clear."--_morning post._ london: hurst and blackett, limited. works by mrs. oliphant. _each in one volume, frontispiece, and uniformly bound, price s._ adam graeme of mossgray. "'adam graeme' is a story awakening genuine emotions of interest and delight by its admirable pictures of scottish life and scenery. the plot is cleverly complicated, and there is great vitality in the dialogue, and remarkable brilliancy in the descriptive passages, as who that has read 'margaret mailand' would not be prepared to expect? but the story has a 'mightier magnet still,' in the healthy tone which pervades it, in its feminine delicacy of thought and diction, and in the truly womanly tenderness of its sentiments. the eloquent author sets before us the essential attributes of christian virtue, their deep and silent workings in the heart, and their beautiful manifestations in the life, with a delicacy, a power, and a truth which can hardly be surpassed."--_morning post._ the laird of norlaw. "we have had frequent opportunities of commending messrs. hurst and blackett's standard library. for neatness, elegance, and distinctness the volumes in this series surpass anything with which we are familiar. 'the laird of norlaw' will fully sustain the author's high reputation. the reader is carried on from first to last with an energy of sympathy that never flags."--_sunday times._ "'the laird of norlaw' is worthy of the author's reputation. it is one of the most exquisite of modern novels."--_observer._ it was a lover and his lass. "in 'it was a lover and his lass,' we admire mrs. oliphant exceedingly. her story is a very pretty one. it would be worth reading a second time, were it only for the sake of one ancient scottish spinster, who is nearly the counterpart of the admirable mrs. margaret maitland."--_times._ agnes. "'agnes' is a novel superior to any of mrs. oliphant's former works."--_athenæum._ "mrs. oliphant is one of the most admirable of our novelists. in her works there are always to be found high principle, good taste, sense, and refinement. 'agnes' is a story whose pathetic beauty will appeal irresistibly to all readers."--_morning post._ a rose in june. "'a rose in june' is as pretty as its title. the story is one of the best and most touching which we owe to the industry and talent of mrs. oliphant, and may hold its own with even 'the chronicles of carlingford.'"--_times._ phoebe, junior. "this last 'chronicle of carlingford' not merely takes rank fairly beside the first which introduced us to 'salem chapel,' but surpasses all the intermediate records. phoebe, junior, herself is admirably drawn."--_academy._ life of the rev. edward irving. "a good book on a most interesting theme."--_times._ "a truly interesting and most affecting memoir. 'irving's life' ought to have a niche in every gallery of religious biography. there are few lives that will be fuller of instruction, interest, and consolation."--_saturday review._ london: hurst and blackett, limited. works by george mac donald, ll.d. _each in one volume, frontispiece, and uniformly bound, price s._ alec forbes of howglen. "no account of this story would give any idea of the profound interest that pervades the work from the first page to the last."--_athenæum._ "a novel of uncommon merit. sir walter scott said he would advise no man to try to read 'clarissa harlowe' out loud in company if he wished to keep his character for manly superiority to tears. we fancy a good many hardened old novel-readers will feel a rising in the throat as they follow the fortunes of alec and annie."--_pall mall gazette._ "the whole story is one of surpassing excellence and beauty."--_daily news._ "this book is full of good thought and good writing. dr. mac donald looks in his stories more to the souls of men and women than to their social outside. he reads life and nature like a true poet."--_examiner._ robert falconer. "'robert falconer' is a work brimful of life and humour and of the deepest human interest. it is a work to be returned to again and again for the deep and searching knowledge it evinces of human thoughts and feelings."--_athenæum._ "this story abounds in exquisite specimens of the word-painting in which dr. mac donald excels, charming transcripts of nature, full of light, air, and colour."--_saturday review._ "this noble story displays to the best advantage all the powers of dr. mac donald's genius."--_illustrated london news._ "'robert falconer' is the noblest work of fiction that dr. mac donald has yet produced."--_british quarterly review._ "the dialogues in 'robert falconer' are so finely blended with humour and pathos as to make them in themselves an intellectual treat to which the reader returns again and again."--_spectator._ david elginbrod. "a novel which is the work of a man of genius. it will attract the highest class of readers."--_times._ "there are many beautiful passages and descriptions in this book. the characters are extremely well drawn."--_athenæum._ "a clever novel. the incidents are exciting, and the interest is maintained to the close. it may be doubted if sir walter scott himself ever painted a scotch fireside with more truth than dr. mac donald."--_morning post._ "david elginbrod is the finest character we have met in fiction for many a day. the descriptions of natural scenery are vivid, truthful, and artistic; the general reflections are those of a refined, thoughtful, and poetical philosopher, and the whole moral atmosphere of the book is lofty, pure, and invigorating."--_globe._ sir gibbie. "'sir gibbie' is a book of genius."--_pall mall gazette._ "this book has power, pathos, and humour. there is not a character which is not life-like. there are many powerful scenes, and the portraits will stay long in our memory."--_athenæum._ "'sir gibbie' is unquestionably a book of genius. it abounds in humour, pathos, insight into character, and happy touches of description."--_graphic._ "'sir gibbie' contains some of the most charming writing the author has yet produced."--_scotsman._ "'sir gibbie' is one of the most touching and beautiful stories that has been written for many years. it is not a novel to be idly read and laid aside; it is a grand work, to be kept near at hand, and studied and thought over."--_morning post._ london: hurst and blackett, limited. edna lyall's novels each in one volume crown vo, s. donovan: a modern englishman. "this is a very admirable work. the reader is from the first carried away by the gallant unconventionality of its author. 'donovan' is a very excellent novel; but it is something more and better. it should do as much good as the best sermon ever written or delivered extempore. the story is told with a grand simplicity, an unconscious poetry of eloquence which stirs the very depths of the heart. one of the main excellencies of this novel is the delicacy of touch with which the author shows her most delightful characters to be after all human beings, and not angels before their time."--_standard._ we two. "a work of deep thought and much power. serious as it is, it is now and then brightened by rays of genuine humour. altogether this story is more and better than a novel."--_morning post._ "there is artistic realism both in the conception and the delineation of the personages; the action and interest are unflaggingly sustained from first to last, and the book is pervaded by an atmosphere of elevated, earnest thought."--_scotsman._ in the golden days. "miss lyall has given us a vigorous study of such life and character as are really worth reading about. the central figure of her story is algernon sydney; and this figure she invests with a singular dignity and power. he always appears with effect, but no liberties are taken with the facts of his life. the plot is adapted with great felicity to them. his part in it, absolutely consistent as it is with historical truth, gives it reality as well as dignity. some of the scenes are remarkably vivid. the escape is an admirable narrative, which almost makes one hold one's breath as one reads."--_spectator._ knight-errant. "'knight-errant' is marked by the author's best qualities as a writer of fiction, and displays on every page the grace and quiet power of her former works."--_athenæum._ "the plot, and, indeed, the whole story, is gracefully fresh and very charming; there is a wide humanity in the book that cannot fail to accomplish its author's purpose."--_literary world._ "this novel is distinctly helpful and inspiring from its high tone, its intense human feeling, and its elevated morality. it forms an additional proof, if such were needed, that miss lyall has a mandate to write."--_academy._ won by waiting. "the dean's daughters are perfectly real characters--the learned cornelia especially;--the little impulsive french heroine, who endures their cold hospitality and at last wins their affection, is thoroughly charming; while throughout the book there runs a golden thread of pure brotherly and sisterly love, which pleasantly reminds us that the making and marring of marriage is not, after all, the sum total of real life."--_academy._ london: hurst and blackett, limited. hurst & blackett's list of new works. [illustration] london: , great marlborough street, w. , great marlborough street, london. messrs. hurst and blackett's list of new works. bandobast and khabar; reminiscences of india. by colonel cuthbert larking. with twelve illustrations, from original drawings by the author. vol. small to. s. d. "the author's accounts of tiger hunts will be entertaining both to those who have met and those who desire to meet the king of the indian fauna in his own dominions."--_morning post._ "colonel larking is to be the more congratulated on having written a readable work of travel in an already well-known country."--_society herald._ "the book may be recommended to the attention of people either proceeding to our great eastern possessions, or having friends out there."--_queen._ "any person contemplating a short trip to india will find in this book some useful hints with regard to outfit, &c."--_field._ reminiscences of eton (keate's time). by the rev. c. allix wilkinson, m.a., author of "reminiscences of the court and times of king ernest of hanover." with portrait of dr. keate. vol. crown vo. s. "mr. wilkinson's book is thoroughly fresh and entertaining; it is crammed full of good stories, and will be a joy to all etonians."--_graphic._ "the author puts before us a book full of anecdotes on all sorts of subjects arising out of his main text."--_queen._ "mr. wilkinson has written an exceedingly good book on eton. it is the work of a thoroughly enthusiastic etonian."--_saturday review._ "the author gives a lively and amusing account of scholastic doings during his nine years' sojourn."--_whitehall review._ lady hamilton and lord nelson. an historical biography based on letters and other documents in the possession of alfred morrison, esq., of fonthill, wiltshire. by john cordy jeaffreson, author of "the real lord byron," &c. vols. crown vo. s. "mr. jeaffreson may be thanked for the new and favourable light which he has been able to throw upon the public and private conduct both of lady hamilton and of nelson."--_globe._ "it only remains for us to compliment mr. jeaffreson upon the reliable, painstaking, thorough way in which he has dealt with the story of lady hamilton, without offending the moral sense of his readers."--_academy._ "mr. jeaffreson has brought to bear his great mastership of detail and skill in marshalling facts, and at least a genuine tribute of admiration may be offered to the author for the discreet and scholarly manner in which he has treated a matter bristling with dangers to an inexperienced or careless writer."--_morning post._ "it would be difficult indeed not to be grateful to mr. jeaffreson for the two attractive volumes which he has devoted to lady hamilton."--_whitehall review._ four months' cruise in a sailing yacht. by lady ernestine edgcumbe and lady mary wood. with illustrations. vol. crown vo. s. d. "the whole journey is recounted in such a way as to make the narrative agreeable reading, and to intending travellers in the same track it contains many useful hints and suggestions."--_queen._ "as a whole, the book may be commended as a pleasant and thoroughly english account of a pastime peculiar to the anglo-saxon race."--_morning post._ shikar sketches: with notes on indian field sports. by j. moray brown, late th cameron highlanders. with eight illustrations, by j. c. dollman, r.i. vol. small to. s. d. "a glorious book. it is palpably the work of a true sportsman."--_horse and hound._ "the sketches are delightfully written, models of clear, bright, racy narrative, and containing just those particulars that a sportsman wishes to know."--_scotsman._ the author goes through the round of indian sport, and writes in such a pleasant fashion as to make his pages agreeable reading to all for whom the subject itself has attractions; the book has the additional advantage of some spirited illustrations."--_the field._ "mr. moray brown records his long experiences among big game in india with capital spirit and style; there are some thrilling pages on pig-sticking and tiger-shooting."--_the world._ through cyprus. by agnes smith, author of "glimpses of greek life and scenery," &c. vol. demy vo. with illustrations and map of the author's route. s. "the cheerful and observant authoress has much that is new to tell us."--_daily telegraph._ "'through cyprus' may be heartily commended to readers who are fond of an entertaining and chatty narration of incidents of travel."--_scotsman._ reminiscences of the court and times of king ernest of hanover. by the rev. c. a. wilkinson, m.a., his majesty's resident domestic chaplain. _second and cheaper edition._ vol. crown vo. with portrait of the king. s. "mr. wilkinson's descriptions of the court balls, where even the ladies took precedence according to military rank, of the characters he met with, and of the hanoverian clergy of those days, will be found decidedly interesting."--_spectator._ "an interesting book, which abounds in characteristic stories of the old king, in anecdotes of many celebrities, english and foreign, of the early part of this century, and, indeed, of all kinds and conditions of men and women with whom the author was brought in contact by his courtly or pastoral office."--_st. james's gazette._ "one of the most interesting and amusing books of this season; it abounds in good and new stories of king ernest, and also of a perfect host of celebrities, both english and german."--_truth._ chapters from family chests. by edward walford, m.a., author of 'the county families,' &c. vols. crown vo. s. "'chapters from family chests' are a great deal more exciting and absorbing than one half the professedly sensational novels."--_daily telegraph._ "mr. walford's volumes abound in what is known as the romance of real life, and are extremely interesting reading."--_daily news._ plain speaking. by author of "john halifax, gentleman." vol. crown vo. s. "we recommend 'plain speaking' to all who like amusing, wholesome, and instructive reading. the contents of mrs. craik's volume are of the most multifarious kind, but all the papers are good and readable, and one at least of them of real importance."--_st. james's gazette._ records of service and campaigning in many lands. by surgeon-general munro, m.d., c.b., author of "reminiscences of military service with the rd sutherland highlanders," &c. dedicated by permission to h. r. h. the princess louise. vols. crown vo. s. "the story which dr. munro has to tell is one which never flags or ceases to be instructive as well as interesting."--_spectator._ "these records should be in the hands of every soldier, for the sake of the information which they give and the spirit which informs them."--_globe._ "full of interesting notes on the army and army life."--_graphic._ the egyptian campaigns, to , and the events which led to them. by charles royle, barrister-at-law. vols. demy vo. with maps and plans. s. "mr. royle has done well in the interests of historical completeness to describe not only the entire military drama, but also the political events connected with it, and whoever reads the book with care has gone a considerable way towards mastering the difficult egyptian question."--_athenæum._ "the egyptian fiasco has found in mr. royle a most painstaking, accurate, and judicious historian. from a literary point of view, his volumes may be thought to contain too many unimportant incidents, yet their presence was necessary, perhaps, in a complete record, and the most fastidious reader will unhesitatingly acquit mr. royle of filling his pages with anything that can be called padding."--_st. james's gazette._ eighteenth century waifs. by john ashton, author of 'social life in the reign of queen anne,' &c. vol. small to. s. "the matter contained in this book is always pleasing and instructive. there is certainly not a dull page in the volume."--_globe._ "mr. ashton has produced a volume of light and pleasant character."--_morning post._ monsieur guizot in private life ( - ). by his daughter, madame de witt. translated by mrs. simpson. vol. demy vo. s. "madame de witt has done justice to her father's memory in an admirable record of his life. mrs. simpson's translation of this singularly interesting book is in accuracy and grace worthy of the original and of the subject."--_saturday review._ words of hope and comfort to those in sorrow. dedicated by permission to the queen. _fourth edition_. vol. small to. s. "these letters, the work of a pure and devout spirit, deserve to find many readers. they are greatly superior to the average of what is called religious literature."--_athenæum._ "these letters are exceptionally graceful and touching, and may be read with profit."--_graphic._ without god: negative science and natural ethics. by percy greg, author of "the devil's advocate," "across the zodiac," &c. vol. demy vo. s. "this work is ably written; there are in it many passages of no ordinary power and brilliancy. it is eminently suggestive and stimulating."--_scotsman._ women of europe in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. by mrs. napier higgins. vols. and , demy vo. s. "the volumes contain biographies of women more or less directly connected with the history of scandinavia, germany, hungary, lithuania, and poland during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. the work is likely to be of permanent value to the students of history."--_morning post._ the new and popular novels. published by hurst & blackett. the golden hope: a romance of the deep. by w. clark russell, author of "a sea queen," "the wreck of the grosvenor," &c. vol. s. "mr. clark russell is at his best in 'the golden hope,' which means that this book of his is one of the finest books of its kind in our language."--_academy._ a house party. by ouida. (_second edition_) vol. crown vo. s. "the sketches of character are hit off with accuracy of observation and with a firm and clear outline."--_daily telegraph._ on the scent. by lady margaret majendie, author of 'dita,' 'once more,' 'sisters-in-law,' &c. vol. crown vo. s. "a bright and wholesome story."--_st. james's gazette._ only a coral girl. by gertrude forde, author of "driven before the storm," &c. vols. "'only a coral girl' will delight many readers by the excellent feeling and healthy purpose with which it is animated."--_athenæum._ a fair crusader; a story of to-day. by william westall, author of "larry lohengrin," "a queer race," &c. vols. "the interest does not halt for a moment in these pages, full of incident and adventure."--_morning post._ a breton maiden. by a french lady, author of "till my wedding-day." vols. "time and space alike would fail us to note the many fine points of this admirable novel."--_academy._ "the author's local colouring is always good, and she has perfectly caught the spirit of the time she depicts."--_morning post._ born in the purple. by maxwell fox. vols. "'born in the purple' is not wanting in originality, and on the whole is free from the reproach of dulness."--_morning post._ a new face at the door. by jane stanley, author of "a daughter of the gods." vols. "all the characters are well described, the young people being drawn with a clever hand, and standing out distinctly in their several ways as real persons."--_queen._ a wily widow. by henry cresswell, author of "a modern greek heroine," &c. vols. "mr. cresswell writes extremely well on a plot that suits him. his brighter pages are almost as captivating as the painful interest of his more tragic ones, and altogether the story is readable and thrilling."--_daily telegraph._ bernard and marcia: a story of middle age. by elizabeth glaister. vols. "the three volumes tell in a smooth, graceful fashion the story of two lovers whose uncovenanted friendship for each other survives a host of trials, and at last, though somewhat late in life, is rewarded."--_daily telegraph._ the death ship: a strange story. an account of a cruise in 'the flying dutchman,' collected from the papers of the late mr. geoffrey fenton, of poplar, master mariner. by w. clark russell, author of 'the wreck of the grosvenor,' 'the golden hope,' &c. vols. the youngest miss green. by f. w. robinson, author of 'grandmother's money,' &c. vols. a daughter of dives. by leith derwent, author of 'circe's lovers,' 'king lazarus,' &c. vols. "readers will find mr. leith derwent's plot interesting, exciting, and original, and worked out with considerable acquaintance of peoples and climes."--_piccadilly._ the duchess. by the author of 'molly bawn,' 'phyllis,' &c. vol. crown vo. s. "the author of 'molly bawn' is always interesting and vivacious, and her story of 'the duchess' is one of her most exciting and clever novels."--_scotsman._ a creature of circumstances. by harry landar. vols. "some of the scenes are pathetic and interesting to a degree, and there is scarcely a chapter that could be passed over from absence of interest."--_the society herald._ a modern delilah. by vere clavering. v. "the novel deserves praise for its naturalness and ease of style, and for the simple force with which its main characters are presented."--_scotsman._ ninette: an idyll of provence. by the author of 'vèra,' 'blue roses,' &c. (_second edition._) vol. crown vo. s. "the tale in itself is true to nature and tenderly pathetic."--_morning post._ "this is a particularly well-told story."--_globe._ the lasses of leverhouse. by jessie fothergill, author of 'kith and kin,' 'the first violin,' &c. vol. crown vo. s. "there is a youthful freshness and heartiness in the author's way of telling her story which makes the book peculiarly enjoyable."--_scotsman._ a bitter repentance. by lady virginia sandars. vols. "lady virginia sandars' new novel is told with more than average skill; the author has a fertile imagination, which enables her to vary, _ad libitum_, the situations in which she places her personages."--_morning post._ in white and gold. a story. by mrs. f. h. williamson. vols. "mrs. williamson has evidently lived among the people whose doings she describes and whose sayings she records with a natural fidelity which reminds one of anthony trollope."--_world._ joy cometh in the morning: a country tale. by algernon gissing. vols. "mr. gissing writes with subdued humour, knows how to touch a situation with restrained pathos, and keeps his pastoral romance strictly within the limits of his knowledge and sympathy; the result is a most agreeable story of english country life."--_saturday review._ six-shilling novels each in one volume crown vo. the duchess. by the author of 'molly bawn,' 'phyllis,' 'airy fairy lilian,' 'lady branksmere,' etc. ninette: an idyll of provence. by the author of 'vèra,' 'blue roses,' 'the maritime alps and their seaboard,' etc. the lasses of leverhouse. by jessie fothergill, author of 'kith and kin,' 'the first violin,' 'probation,' etc. the golden hope. by w. clark russell, author of 'a sea queen,' 'the wreck of the grosvenor,' etc. on the scent. by lady margaret majendie, author of 'dita,' 'once more,' 'sisters-in-law,' etc. his little mother. by the author of 'john halifax, gentleman,' 'a life for a life,' 'christian's mistake,' etc. my lord and my lady. by mrs. forrester, author of 'omnia vanitas,' 'viva,' 'mignon,' 'dolores,' 'rhona,' etc. sophy: or the adventures of a savage. by violet fane, author of 'denzil place,' 'anthony barrington,' etc. a house party. by ouida, author of 'under two flags,' 'puck,' 'othmar,' etc. omnia vanitas: a tale of society. by mrs. forrester, author of 'my lord and my lady,' 'viva,' 'mignon,' etc. the betrayal of reuben holt. by barbara lake. plain speaking. by the author of 'john halifax, gentleman,' 'his little mother,' 'a life for a life,' etc. the brandreths. by the right hon. a. j. b. beresford-hope, author of 'strictly tied up,' etc. london: hurst and blackett, limited. transcriber's notes obvious punctuation errors repaired. inconsistent hyphenation fixed. table of contents entry for chapter vii changed to page . p. : made no reponse -> made no response. p. : melhee -> melee. ad for shikar sketches: horse and hourd -> horse and hound.