“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