no cracking of timbers--no
falling of masts--the foreyard passed through their mainsail, yet
the canvas was unrent--the whole vessel appeared to cut through the
_Utrecht_, yet left no trace of injury--not fast, but slowly, as if
she were really sawing through her by the heaving and tossing of the
sea with her sharp prow. The stranger's forechains had passed their
gunwale before Philip could recover himself. "Amine," cried he, at
last, "the Phantom Ship! my father!"

The seamen of the _Utrecht_, more astounded by the marvellous result
than by their former danger, threw themselves down upon deck; some
hastened below, some prayed, others were dumb with astonishment and
fear. Amine appeared more calm than any, not excepting Philip; she
surveyed the vessel as it slowly forced its way through; she beheld
the seamen on board of her coolly leaning over her gunwale, as
if deriding the destruction they had occasioned; she looked for
Vanderdecken himself, and on the poop of the vessel, with his trumpet
under his arm, she beheld the image of her Philip--the same hardy,
strong build--the same features--about the same age apparently--there
could be no doubt it was the _doomed_ Vanderdecken!

"See, Philip," said she, "see!--your father!"

"Even so--Merciful Heaven! It is--it is"--and Philip, overpowered by
his feelings, sank upon deck.

The vessel had now passed over the _Utrecht_; the form of the elder
Vanderdecken was seen to walk aft and look over the taffrail; Amine
perceived it to start and turn away suddenly--she looked down, and
saw Schriften shaking his fist in defiance at the supernatural being!
Again the Phantom Ship flew to leeward before the gale, and was soon
lost in the mist; but before that, Amine had turned and perceived the
situation of Philip. No one but herself and Schriften appeared able to
actor move. She caught the pilot's eye, beckoned to him, and with his
assistance Philip was led into the cabin.

Chapter XXIII

"I have then seen him," said Philip, after he had lain down on the
sofa in the cabin for some minutes to recover himself, while Amine
bent over him. "I have at last seen him, Amine! Can you doubt now?"

"No, Philip, I have now no doubt," replied Amine, mournfully; "but
take courage, Philip."

"For myself, I want not courage--but for you, Amine--you know that his
appearance portends a mischief that will surely come."

"Let it come," replied Amine, calmly; "I have long been prepared for