you, but with those who live in the world he
stops not; and for those who pass a life of misery, he hurries on still
faster. In me behold your son, Philip Vanderdecken, who has obeyed your
wishes; and, after a life of such peril and misery as few have passed,
has at last fulfilled his vow, and now offers to his father the precious
relic that he required to kiss."

Philip drew out the relic, and held it towards his father. As if a
flash of lightning had passed through his mind, the captain of the
vessel started back, clasped his hands, fell on his knees, and wept.

"My son, my son!" exclaimed he, rising and throwing himself into
Philip's arms; "my eyes are opened--the Almighty knows how long they
have been obscured." Embracing each other, they walked aft, away from
the men, who were still crowded at the gangway.

"My son, my noble son, before the charm is broken--before we resolve, as
we must, into the elements, oh! let me kneel in thanksgiving and
contrition: my son, my noble son, receive a father's thanks," exclaimed
Vanderdecken. Then with tears of joy and penitence he humbly addressed
himself to that Being, whom he once so awfully defied.

The elder Vanderdecken knelt down: Philip did the same; still embracing
each other with one arm, while they raised on high the other, and
prayed.

For the last time the relic was taken from the bosom of Philip and
handed to his father--and his father raised his eyes to heaven and
kissed it. And, as he kissed it, the long tapering upper spars of the
Phantom vessel, the yards and sails that were set, fell into dust,
fluttered in the air, and sank upon the wave. The mainmast, foremast,
bowsprit, everything above the deck, crumbled into atoms and
disappeared.

Again he raised the relic to his lips and the work of destruction
continued--the heavy iron guns sunk through the decks and disappeared;
the crew of the vessel (who were looking on) crumbled down into
skeletons, and dust, and fragments of ragged garments; and there were
none left on board the vessel in the semblance of life but the father
and son.

Once more did he put the sacred emblem to his lips, and the beams and
timbers separated, the decks of the vessel slowly sank, and the remnants
of the hull floated upon the water; and as the father and son--the one
young and vigorous, the other old and decrepit--still kneeling, still
embracing, with their hands raised to heaven, sank slowly under the deep
blue wave, the l