“Want?” replied Schriften, eyeing first Philip and then Amine.—­“He! he!  I think I want filling out a little.”

“That you will, I trust, in good time; my steward has my orders to take care of you.”

“Poor man,” said Amine, with a look of pity, “how much he must have suffered!  Is not this the man who brought you the letter from the Company, Philip?”

“He! he! yes!  Not very welcome, was it, lady?”

“No, my good fellow, it’s never a welcome message to a wife, that sends her husband away from her.  But that was not your fault.”

“If a husband will go to sea and leave a handsome wife, when he has, as they say, plenty of money to live upon on shore, he! he!”

“Yes, indeed, you may well say that,” replied Amine.

“Better give it up.  All folly, all madness—­eh, captain?”

“I must finish this voyage, at all events,” replied Philip to Amine, “whatever I may do afterwards.  I have suffered much, and so have you, Schriften.  You have been twice wrecked; now tell me what do you wish to do?  Go home in the first ship, or go ashore at the Cape—­or—­”

“Or do anything, so I get out of this ship—­he! he!”

“Not so.  If you prefer sailing with me, as I know you are a good seaman, you shall have your rating and pay of pilot—­that is, if you choose to follow my fortunes.”

“Follow?—­Must follow.  Yes!  I’ll sail with you, Mynheer Vanderdecken, I wish to be always near you—­he! he!”

“Be it so, then:  as soon as you are strong again, you will go to your duty; till then, I will see that you want for nothing.”

“Nor I, my good fellow.  Come to me if you do, and I will be your help,” said Amine.  “You have suffered much, but we will do what we can to make you forget it.”

“Very good! very kind!” replied Schriften, surveying the lovely face and figure of Amine.  After a time, shrugging up his shoulders, he added—­“A pity!  Yes it is!—­Must be, though.”

“Farewell,” continued Amine, holding out her hand to Schriften.

The man took it, and a cold shudder went to her heart; but she, expecting such a result, would not appear to feel it.  Schriften held her hand for a second or two in his own, looking at it earnestly, and then at Amine’s face.—­“So fair, so good!  Mynheer Vanderdecken, I thank you.  Lady, may Heaven preserve you!”—­Then, squeezing the hand of Amine which he had not released, Schriften hastened out of the cabin.

So great was the sudden icy shock which passed through Amine’s frame when Schriften pressed her hand, that when with difficulty she gained the sofa she fell upon it.  After remaining with her hand pressed against her heart for some time, during which Philip bent over her, she said in a breathless voice, “That creature must be supernatural, I am sure of it, I am now convinced.—­Well,” continued she, after a pause of some little while, “all the better, if we can make him a friend; and if I can I will.”