He was kindly received by the captain of the vessel, who freely gave him a passage home; and in three months, without any events worth narrating, Philip Vanderdecken found himself once more at anchor before the town of Amsterdam.

Chapter XI

It need hardly be observed, that Philip made all possible haste to his own little cottage, which contained all that he valued in this world.  He promised to himself some months of happiness, for he had done his duty; and he felt that, however desirous of fulfilling his vow, he could not again leave home till the autumn, when the next fleet sailed, and it was now but the commencement of April.  Much, too, as he regretted the loss of Mynheer Kloots and Hillebrant, as well as the deaths of the unfortunate crew, still there was some solace in the remembrance that he was for ever rid of the wretch Schriften, who had shared their fate; and besides, he almost blessed the wreck, so fatal to others, which enabled him so soon to return to the arms of his Amine.

It was late in the evening when Philip took a boat from Flushing, and went over to his cottage at Terneuse.  It was a rough evening for the season of the year.  The wind blew fresh, and the sky was covered with flaky clouds, fringed here and there with broad white edges, for the light of the moon was high in the heavens, and she was at her full.  At times her light would be almost obscured by a dark cloud passing over her disc; at others, she would burst out in all her brightness.  Philip landed, and wrapping his cloak round him, hastened up to his cottage.  As with a beating heart he approached, he perceived that the window of the parlour was open, and that there was a female figure leaning out.  He knew that it could be no other than his Amine, and, after he crossed the little bridge, he proceeded to the window, instead of going to the door.  Amine (for it was she who stood at the window) was so absorbed in contemplation of the heavens above her, and so deep in communion with her own thoughts, that she neither saw nor heard the approach of her husband.  Philip perceived her abstraction, and paused when within four or five yards of her.  He wished to gain the door without being observed, as he was afraid of alarming her by his too sudden appearance, for he remembered his promise, “that if dead he would, if permitted, visit her as his father had visited his mother.”  But while he thus stood in suspense, Amine’s eyes were turned upon him:  she beheld him, but a thick cloud now obscured the moon’s disc, and the dim light gave to his form, indistinctly seen, an unearthly and shadowy appearance.  She recognised her husband; but having no reason to expect his return, she recognised him as an inhabitant of the world of spirits.  She started, parted the hair away from her forehead with both hands, and again earnestly gazed on him.

“It is I, Amine, do not be afraid,” cried Philip, hastily.