The second mate, whose name was Krantz, was an active, good seaman, and a great favourite with Philip, who knew that he could trust to him, and it was on the afternoon of this day that he and Philip were walking together on the deck.
“What think you, Vanderdecken, of that strange vessel we saw?”
“I have seen her before, Krantz; and—”
“And what?”
“Whatever vessel I have been in when I have seen her, that vessel has never returned into port—others tell the same tale.”
“Is she, then, the ghost of a vessel?”
“I am told so; and there are various stories afloat concerning her: but of this, I assure you—that I am fully persuaded that some accident will happen before we reach port, although everything at this moment appears so calm, and our port is so near at hand.”
“You are superstitious,” replied Krantz; “and yet, I must say, that, to me, the appearance was not like a reality. No vessel could carry such sail in the gale; but yet, there are madmen afloat who will sometimes attempt the most absurd things. If it was a vessel, she must have gone down, for when it cleared up she was not to be seen. I am not very credulous, and nothing but the occurrence of the consequences which you anticipate will make me believe that there was anything supernatural in the affair.”
“Well! I shall not be sorry if the event proves me wrong,” replied Philip; “but I have my forebodings—we are not in port yet.”
“No! but we are but a trifling distance from it, and there is every prospect of a continuance of fine weather.”