us, but not always; but to Amine
he was always deferent. His language was mystical,--she could not
prevent his chuckling laugh, his occasional "He! he!" from breaking
forth. But when they anchored at Gambroon, he was on such terms with
her, that he would occasionally come into the cabin; and, although he
would not sit down, would talk to Amine for a few minutes, and then
depart. While the vessel lay at anchor at Gambroon, Schriften one
evening walked up to Amine, who was sitting on the poop. "Lady," said
he, after a pause, "yon ship sails for your own country in a few days."

"So I am told," replied Amine.

"Will you take the advice of one who wishes you well? Return in that
vessel--go back to your own cottage, and stay there till your husband
comes to you once more."

"Why is this advice given?"

"Because I forebode danger--nay, perhaps death, a cruel death--to one I
would not harm."

"To me!" replied Amine, fixing her eyes upon Schriften, and meeting his
piercing gaze.

"Yes, to you. Some people can see into futurity further than others."

"Not if they are mortal," replied Amine.

"Yes, if they are mortal. But, mortal or not, I do see that which I
would avert. Tempt not destiny further."

"Who can avert it? If I take your counsel, still was it my destiny to
take your counsel. If I take it not, still it was my destiny."

"Well, then, avoid what threatens you."

"I fear not, yet do I thank you. Tell me, Schriften, hast thou not thy
fate some way interwoven with that of my husband? I feel that thou
hast."

"Why think you so, lady?"

"For many reasons: twice you have summoned him--twice have you been
wrecked, and miraculously reappeared and recovered. You know, too, of
his mission--that is evident."

"But proves nothing."

"Yes! it proves much; for it proves that you knew what was supposed to
be known but to him alone."

"It was known to you, and holy men debated on it," replied Schriften,
with a sneer.

"How knew you that, again?"

"He! he!" replied Schriften. "Forgive me, lady; I meant not to affront
you."

"You cannot deny that you are connected mysteriously and
incomprehensibly with this mission of my husband's. Tell me, is it, as
he believes, true and holy?"

"If he thinks that it is true and holy, it becomes so."

"Why, then, do you appear his enemy?"

"I am not _his_ enemy, fair lady."

"You are not his enemy?--why, then, did you once attempt to deprive him
of the mys