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.