“Merciful Heaven! she must have been upset, and has gone down in the squall,” said Mynheer Barentz. “I thought as much, carrying such a press of sail. There never was a ship that could carry more than the Vrow Katerina. It was madness on the part of the captain of that vessel; but I suppose he wished to keep up with us. Heh, Mynheer Vanderdecken?”
Philip did not reply to these remarks, which fully proved the madness of his captain. He felt that his ship was doomed, and when he thought of the numbers on board who might be sacrificed, he shuddered. After a pause, he said—
“Mynheer Barentz, this gale is likely to continue, and the best ship that ever was built cannot, in my opinion, stand such weather. I should advise that we bear up, and run back to Table Bay to refit. Depend upon it, we shall find the whole fleet there before us.”
“Never fear for the good ship, Vrow Katerina,” replied the captain; “see what weather she makes of it.”
“Cursed bad,” observed one of the seamen, for the seamen had gathered near to Philip to hear what his advice might be. “If I had known that she was such an old, crazy beast, I never would have trusted myself on board. Mynheer Vanderdecken is right; we must back to Table Bay ere worse befall us. That ship to leeward has given us warning—she is not seen for nothing,—ask Mr Vanderdecken, captain; he knows that well, for he is a sailor.”
This appeal to Philip made him start; it was, however, made without any knowledge of Philip’s interest in the Phantom Ship.
“I must say,” replied Philip, “that, whenever I have fallen in with that vessel, mischief has ever followed.”
“Vessel! why, what was there in that vessel to frighten you? She carried too much sail, and she has gone down.”
“She never goes down,” replied one of the seamen.
“No! no!” exclaimed many voices; “but we shall, if we do not run back.”