ed into his recollection and he felt that there was a summons
from his short existence of enjoyment and repose to a life of future
activity, danger, and suffering. What peculiarly struck Philip was,
that when the little man sat beside him, a sensation of sudden cold ran
through his whole frame. The colour fled from Philip's cheek, but he
spoke not. For a minute or two there was a silence. The one-eyed
visitor looked round him, and turning from the buffets, he fixed his
eyes on the form of Amine, who stood before him; at last the silence was
broken by a sort of giggle on the part of the stranger, which ended in--

"Philip Vanderdecken--he! he!--Philip Vanderdecken, you don't know me?"

"I do not," replied Philip, in a half angry tone.

The voice of the little man was most peculiar--it was a sort of subdued
scream, the notes of which sounded in your ear long after he had ceased
to speak.

"I am Schriften, one of the pilots of the Ter Schilling," continued the
man; "and I'm come--he! he!"--and he looked hard at Amine--"to take you
away from love,"--and looking at the buffets--"he! he! from comfort, and
from this also," cried he, stamping his foot on the floor as he rose
from the sofa--"from terra firma--he! he!--to a watery grave perhaps.
Pleasant!" continued Schriften, with a giggle; and with a countenance
full of meaning he fixed his one eye on Philip's face.

Philip's first impulse was to put his new visitor out of the door; but
Amine, who read his thoughts, folded her arms as she stood before the
little man, and eyed him with contempt, as she observed:--

"We all must meet our fate, good fellow; and, whether by land or sea,
death will have his due. If death stare him in the face, the cheek of
Philip Vanderdecken will never turn as white as yours is now."

"Indeed!" replied Schriften, evidently annoyed at this cool
determination on the part of one so young and beautiful; and then fixing
his eye upon the silver shrine of the Virgin on the mantelpiece--"You
are a Catholic, I perceive--he!"

"I am a Catholic," replied Philip; "but does that concern you? When
does the vessel sail?"

"In a week--he! he!--only a week for preparation--only seven days to
leave all--short notice!"

"More than sufficient," replied Philip, rising up from the sofa. "You
may tell your captain that I shall not fail. Come, Amine, we must lose
no time."

"No, indeed," replied Amine, "and our first duty is hospitality:
Mynheer, may