“I have but a few years to live,” continued the old man, “and God knows I shall quit this world without reluctance.”
“And so could I,” replied Philip.
“You, my son!—no. You are young, and should be full of hopes. You have still to do your duty in that station to which it shall please God to call you.”
“I know that I have a duty to perform,” replied Philip. “Father, the night air is too keen for one so aged as you. Retire to your bed, and leave me to my watch and my own thoughts.”
“I will, my son; may Heaven guard you! Take an old man’s blessing. Good night.”
“Good night,” replied Philip, glad to be alone. “Shall I confess all to him?” thought Philip. “I feel I could confess to him—but no. I would not to Father Seysen—why to him? I should put myself in his power, and he might order me—No, no! my secret is my own. I need no advisers.” And Philip pulled out the relic from his bosom, and put it reverently to his lips.
The Batavia waited a few days at St. Helena, and then continued her voyage. In six weeks Philip again found himself at anchor in the Zuyder Zee, and having the captain’s permission, he immediately set off for his own home, taking with him the old Portuguese priest, Mathias, with whom he had formed a great intimacy, and to whom he had offered his protection for the time he might wish to remain in the Low Countries.