“I don’t doubt—in fact—I’m sure, he must be dead by this time,” replied Krantz, drawling out the words in a musing manner. “Commandant, will you give us till to-morrow morning to make our calculations?”
“Yes, you may go.”
“But not to the dungeon, Commandant,” replied Krantz; “we are not prisoners certainly; and, if you wish us to do you a favour, surely you will not ill-treat us?”
“By your own acknowledgment you have taken up arms against the most Christian King; however, you may remain at liberty for the night—to-morrow morning will decide whether or no you are prisoners.”
Philip and Krantz thanked the little Commandant for his kindness, and then hastened away to the ramparts. It was now dark, and the moon had not yet made her appearance. They sat there on the parapet enjoying the breeze, and feeling the delight of liberty even after their short incarceration; but, near to them, soldiers were either standing or lying, and they spoke but in whispers.
“What could he mean by requiring us to give a certificate of the captain’s death; and why did you answer as you did?”
“Philip Vanderdecken, that I have often thought of the fate of your beautiful wife, you may imagine; and when I heard that she was brought here, I then trembled for her. What must she appear, lovely as she is, when placed in comparison with the women of this country? And that little Commandant—is he not the very person who would be taken with her charms? I denied our condition, because I thought he would be more likely to allow us our liberty as humble individuals, than as captain and first-mate; particularly as he suspects that we led on the Ternate people to the attack; and when he asked for a certificate of your death, I immediately imagined that he wanted it in order to induce Amine to marry him. But where is she? is the question. If we could only find out that soldier, we might gain some information.”
“Depend upon it, she is here,” replied Philip, clenching his hands.
“I am inclined to think so,” said Krantz; “that she is alive, I feel assured.”
The conversation was continued until the moon rose, and threw her beams over the tumbling waters. Philip and Krantz turned their faces toward the sea, and leant over the battlements in silence; after some time their reveries were disturbed by a person coming up to them with a “Buenos noctes, signor.”