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.