"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. Then 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 sank 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 the 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 lurid sky was for a moment
illumined by a lightning cross.
Then did the clouds which obscured the heavens roll away swift as
thought--the sun again burst out in all his splendour--the rippling
waves appeared to dance with joy. The screaming sea-gull again whirled
in the air, and the scared albatross once more slumbered on the wing.
The porpoise tumbled and tossed in his sportive play, the albicore and
dolphin leaped from the sparkling sea.--All nature smiled as if it
rejoiced that the charm was dissolved for ever, and that "THE PHANTOM
SHIP" WAS NO MORE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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