spars of
another vessel. She rose, and rose, gradually; her topmasts and topsail
yards, with the sails set, next made their appearance; higher and higher
she rose up from the element. Her lower masts and rigging, and, lastly,
her hull showed itself above the surface. Still she rose up, till her
ports, with her guns, and at last the whole of her floatage was above
water and there she remained close to them, with her main yard squared,
and hove-to.

"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed the captain, breathless; "I have known ships to
_go down_, but never to _come up_ before. Now will I give one thousand
candles, of ten ounces each, to the shrine of the Virgin, to save us in
this trouble. One thousand wax candles! Hear me, blessed lady, ten
ounces each! Gentlemen," cried the captain to the passengers, who stood
aghast; "why don't you promise?--promise, I say; _promise_, at all
events."

"The Phantom Ship--the Flying Dutchman," shrieked Schriften; "I told you
so, Philip Vanderdecken; there is your father--he, he!"

Philip's eyes had remained fixed on the vessel; he perceived that they
were lowering down a boat from her quarter. "It is possible," thought
he, "I shall now be permitted!" and Philip put his hand into his bosom
and grasped the relic.

The gloom now increased, so that the strange vessel's hull could but
just be discovered through the murky atmosphere. The seamen and
passengers threw themselves down on their knees, and invoked their
saints. The captain ran down for a candle, to light before the image of
St. Antonio, which he took out of its shrine and kissed with much
apparent affection and devotion, and then replaced.

Shortly afterwards the splash of oars was heard alongside, and a voice
calling out, "I say, my good people, give us a rope from forward."

No one answered, or complied with the request. Schriften only went up
to the captain, and told him that if they offered to send letters they
must not be received, or the vessel would be doomed, and all would
perish.

A man now made his appearance from over the gunnel, at the gangway.
"You might as well have let me had a side-rope, my hearties," said he,
as he stepped on deck; "where is the captain?"

"Here," replied the captain, trembling from head to foot. The man who
accosted him appeared a weather-beaten seaman, dressed in a fur cap and
canvas petticoats; he held some letters in his hand.

"What do you want?" at last screamed the captain.

"Yes--w