he bottom
of an old canal."

The stranger called out passionately: "It is impossible--We cannot
believe it! It is cruel to say such things to people in our condition.
There is a letter from our captain himself, to his much-beloved and
faithful wife, whom he left at a pleasant summer dwelling, on
the border of the Haarlemer Mer. She promised to have the house
beautifully painted and gilded before he came back, and to get a new
set of looking-glasses for the principal chamber, that she might see
as many images of Vanderdecken as if she had six husbands at once."

The man replied, "There has been time enough for her to have had six
husbands since then; but were she alive still, there is no fear that
Vanderdecken would ever get home to disturb her."

On hearing this the stranger again shed tears, and said, if they would
not take the letters, he would leave them; and looking around he
offered the parcel to the captain, chaplain, and to the rest of the
crew successively, but each drew back as it was offered, and put his
hands behind his back. He then laid the letters upon the deck, and
placed upon them a piece of iron, which was lying near, to prevent
them from being blown away. Having done this, he swung himself over
the gangway, and went into the boat.

We heard the others speak to him, but the rise of a sudden squall
prevented us from distinguishing his reply. The boat was seen to quit
the ship's side, and in a few moments there were no more traces of her
than if she had never been there. The sailors rubbed their eyes, as if
doubting what they had witnessed, but the parcel still lay upon deck,
and proved the reality of all that had passed.

Duncan Saunderson, the Scotch mate, asked the captain if he should
take them up, and put them in the letter-bag? Receiving no reply, he
would have lifted them if it had not been for Tom Willis, who pulled
him back, saying that nobody should touch them.

In the mean time the captain went down to the cabin, and the chaplain,
having followed him, found him at his bottle-case, pouring out a
large dram of brandy. The captain, although somewhat disconcerted,
immediately offered the glass to him, saying, "Here, Charters, is what
is good in a cold night." The chaplain declined drinking anything, and
the captain having swallowed the bumper, they both returned to the
deck, where they found the seamen giving their opinions concerning
what should be done with the letters. Tom Willis proposed