till her hull, masts and yards were clearly visible.
They looked and rubbed their eyes to help their vision, for scarcely
could they believe that which they did see. In the centre of the pale
light, which extended about fifteen degrees above the horizon, there
was indeed a large ship about three miles distant; but, although it
was a perfect calm, she was to all appearance buffeting in a violent
gale, plunging and lifting over a surface that was smooth as glass,
now careening to her bearing, then recovering herself. Her topsails
and mainsail were furled, and the yards pointed to the wind; she had
no sail set, but a close-reefed fore-sail, a storm stay-sail, and
trysail abaft. She made little way through the water, but apparently
neared them fast, driven down by the force of the gale. Each minute
she was plainer to the view. At last, she was seen to wear, and in so
doing, before she was brought to the wind on the other tack, she was
so close to them that they could distinguish the men on board: they
could see the foaming water as it was hurled from her bows; hear the
shrill whistle of the boatswain's pipes, the creaking of the ship's
timbers, and the complaining of her masts; and then the gloom
gradually rose, and in a few seconds she had totally disappeared.

"God in heaven!" exclaimed Mynheer Kloots.

Philip felt a hand upon his shoulder, and the cold darted through his
whole frame. He turned round and met the one eye of Schriften,
who screamed in his ear--"PHILIP VANDERDECKEN--That's the _Flying
Dutchman!_"

Chapter X

The sudden gloom which had succeeded to the pale light had the effect
of rendering every object still more indistinct to the astonished crew
of the _Ter Schilling_. For a moment or more not a word was uttered by
a soul on board. Some remained with their eyes still strained towards
the point where the apparition had been seen, others turned away full
of gloomy and foreboding thoughts. Hillebrant was the first who spoke:
turning round to the eastern quarter, and observing a light on the
horizon, he started, and seizing Philip by the arm, cried out, "What's
that?"

"That is only the moon rising from the bank of clouds," replied
Philip, mournfully.

"Well!" observed Mynheer Kloots, wiping his forehead, which was damp
with perspiration, "I _have_ been told of this before, but I have
mocked at the narration."

Philip made no reply. Aware of the reality of the vision, and how
deeply it intere