not lawful--our religion forbids it."

"It may do so, but I cannot tell why. I came into this world without
my own consent--surely I may leave it without asking the leave of
priests! But let that pass for the present: what will you do with that
Schriften?"

"Put him on shore at the Cape; I cannot bear the odious wretch's
presence. Did you not feel the chill, as before, when you approached
him?"

"I did--I knew that he was there before I saw him; but still, I know
not why, I feel as if I would not send him away."

"Why not?"

"I believe it is because I am inclined to brave destiny, not to quail
at it. The wretch can do no harm."

"Yes, he can--much: he can render the ship's company mutinous and
disaffected;--besides, he attempted to deprive me of my relic."

"I almost wish he had done so; then must you have discontinued this
wild search."

"Nay, Amine, say not so; it is my duty, and I have taken my solemn
oath--"

"But this Schriften--you cannot well put him ashore at the Cape; being
a Company's officer, you might send him home if you found a ship there
homeward-bound; still, were I you, I would let destiny work. He is
woven in with ours, that is certain. Courage, Philip, and let him
remain."

"Perhaps you are right, Amine; I may retard, but cannot escape,
whatever may be my intended fate."

"Let him remain, then, and let him do his worst. Treat him with
kindness--who knows what we may gain from him?"

"True, true, Amine; he has been my enemy without cause. Who can
tell?--perhaps he may become my friend."

"And if not, you will have done your duty. Send for him now."

"No, not now--to-morrow; in the meantime, I will order him every
comfort."

"We are talking as if he were one of us, which I feel that he is not,"
replied Amine; "but still, mundane or not, we cannot but offer mundane
kindness, and what this world, or rather what this ship affords. I
long now to talk with him, to see if I can produce any effect upon his
ice-like frame. Shall I make love to the ghoul?" and Amine burst into
a bitter laugh.

Here the conversation dropped, but its substance was not disregarded.
The next morning, the surgeon having reported that Schriften was
apparently quite recovered, he was summoned into the cabin. His frame
was wasted away to a skeleton, but his motions and his language were
as sharp and petulant as ever.

"I have sent for you, Schriften, to know if there is anything that I
can do to make you more c