As Schriften spoke, Philip’s eyes were fixed upon him.  He extended his hand to Philip—­it was taken; and as it was pressed, the form of the pilot wasted as it were into the air, and Philip found himself alone.

“Father of Mercy, I thank Thee,” said Philip, “that my task is done, and that I again may meet my Amine.”

Philip then pulled towards the Phantom Ship, and found that she no longer appeared to leave him; on the contrary, every minute he was nearer and nearer, and at last he threw in his oars, climbed up her sides, and gained her deck.

The crew of the vessel crowded round him.

“Your captain,” said Philip; “I must speak with your captain.”

“Who shall I say, sir?” demanded one, who appeared to be the first mate.

“Who?” replied Philip; “tell him his son would speak to him, his son Philip Vanderdecken.”

Shouts of laughter from the crew, followed this answer of Philip’s; and the mate, as soon as they ceased, observed with a smile,

“You forget, sir, perhaps you would say his father.”

“Tell him his son, if you please,” replied Philip, “take no note of grey hairs.”

“Well, sir, here he is coming forward,” replied the mate, stepping aside, and pointing to the captain.

“What is all this?” inquired the captain.

“Are you Philip Vanderdecken, the captain of this vessel?”

“I am, sir,” replied the other.

“You appear not to know me!  But how can you? you saw me but when I was only three years old; yet may you remember a letter which you gave to your wife.”

“Ha!” replied the captain; “and who then are you?”

“Time has stopped with you, but with those who live in the world he stops not! and for those who pass a life of misery, he hurries on still faster.  In me, behold your son, Philip Vanderdecken, who has obeyed your wishes; and after a life of such peril and misery as few have passed, has at last fulfilled his vow, and now offers to his father the precious relic that he required to kiss.”

Philip drew out the relic, and held it towards his father.  As if a flash of lightning had passed through his mind, the captain of the vessel started back, clasped his hands, fell on his knees, and wept.

“My son, my son!” exclaimed he, rising, and throwing himself into Philip’s arms, “my eyes are opened—­the Almighty knows how long they have been obscured.”  Embracing each other, they walked aft, away from the men, who were still crowded at the gangway.

“My son, my noble son, before the charm is broken—­before we resolve, as we must, into the elements, oh! let me kneel in thanksgiving and contrition:  my son, my noble son, receive a father’s thanks,” exclaimed Vanderdecken.  Then with tears of joy and penitence he humbly addressed himself to that Being, whom he once so awfully defied.

The elder Vanderdecken knelt down:  Philip did the same; still embracing each other with one arm, while they raised on high the other, and prayed.