“There will be the same scene over again, I expect,” observed Krantz, as the vessel parted swiftly from the shore.

“I have little doubt of it; observe, even now they are at blows and stabs.”

“If I were to name that spot, it should be the ‘Accursed Isle.’”

“Would not any other be the same, with so much to inflame the passions of men?”

“Assuredly:  what a curse is gold!”

“And what a blessing!” replied Krantz.  “I am sorry Pedro is left with them.”

“It is their destiny,” replied Philip; “so let’s think no more of them.  Now what do you propose?  With this vessel, small as she is, we may sail over these seas in safety; and we have, I imagine, provisions sufficient for more than a month.”

“My idea is to run into the track of the vessels going to the westward, and obtain a passage to Goa.”

“And if we do not meet with any, we can at all events proceed up the Straits as far as Pulo Penang without risk.  There we may safely remain until a vessel passes.”

“I agree with you; it is our best, nay our only place; unless, indeed, we were to proceed to Cochin, where junks are always leaving for Goa.”

“But that would be out of our way, and the junks cannot well pass us in the Straits without their being seen by us.”

They had no difficulty in steering their course; the islands by day, and the clear stars by night, were their compass.  It is true that they did not follow the more direct track, but they followed the more secure, working up through the smooth waters, and gaining to the northward more than to the west.  Many times were they chased by the Malay proas, which infested the islands, but the swiftness of their little peroqua was their security; indeed the chase was, generally speaking, abandoned, as soon as the smallness of the vessel was made out by the pirates, who expected that little or no booty was to be gained.

That Amine and Philip’s mission was the constant theme of their discourse, may easily be imagined.  One morning, as they were sailing between the isles, with less wind than usual, Philip observed:—­

“Krantz, you said that there were events in your own life, or connected with it, which would corroborate the mysterious tale I confided to you.  Will you now tell me to what you referred?”

“Certainly,” replied Krantz; “I have often thought of doing so, but one circumstance or another has hitherto prevented me; this is, however, a fitting opportunity.  Prepare therefore to listen to a strange story, quite as strange, perhaps, as your own.

“I take it for granted, that you have heard people speak of the Hartz Mountains,” observed Krantz.

“I have never heard people speak of them that I can recollect,” replied Philip; “but I have read of them in some book, and of the strange things which have occurred there.”