"Better!--say better to grovel on this earth with our selfish,
humbled race, wandering in mystery, and awe, and doubt, when we can
communicate with the intelligences above! Does not the soul leap at
her admission to confer with superior powers? Does not the proud heart
bound at the feeling that its owner is one of those more gifted than
the usual race of mortals? Is it not a noble ambition?"
"A dangerous one--most dangerous."
"And therefore most noble. They seem as if they would speak to me:
look at yon bright star--it beckons to me."
For some time Amine's eyes were raised aloft; she spoke not, and
Philip remained at her side. She walked to the gangway of the vessel,
and looked down upon the placid wave, pierced by the moonbeams far
below the surface.
"And does your imagination, Amine, conjure up a race of beings gifted
to live beneath that deep blue wave, who sport amid the coral rocks,
and braid their hair with pearls?" said Philip, smiling.
"I know not, but it appears to me that it would be sweet to live
there. You may call to mind your dream, Philip; I was then, according
to your description, one of those same beings."
"You were," replied Philip, thoughtfully.
"And yet I feel as if water would reject me, even if the vessel were
to sink. In what manner this mortal frame of mine may be resolved
into its elements, I know not; but this I do feel, that it never will
become the sport of, or be tossed by, the mocking waves. But come in,
Philip, dearest; it is late, and the decks are wet with dew."
When the day dawned, the look-out man at the mast-head reported that
he perceived something floating on the still surface of the water, on
the beam of the vessel. Krantz went up with his glass to examine, and
made it out to be a small boat, probably cut adrift from some vessel.
As there was no appearance of wind, Philip permitted a boat to be sent
to examine it, and after a long pull, the seamen returned on board,
towing the small boat astern.
"There is a body of a man in it, sir," said the second mate to Krantz,
as he gained the gangway; "but whether he is quite dead, or not, I
cannot tell."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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