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 150 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.