“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?”