The Frozen Crew Of The Ice-Bound Ship; Or, Terrors Of The Arctic Region — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

12 —_—— “ His blood beats as calm as an infant’s,” said the pirate; ‘so throb not theirs who stab and poison. Comrades,” he continued, “whether I live or die, grant protection and safety to my physician, here, for T am without doubt of his faith.” Paul Jones then raised himself in bed, drained the cup offered to him to the very bottom, and, having again resigned it to Hans Hinckman, sank back as if exhausted upon the cushions beneath his body. The physician, then, with silent but expressive signs, directed that those present should leave the cabin, excepting himself and Gonzalvi, whom no re- monstrance could induce to withdraw. CHAPTER IV. PAUL JONES IS WARNED BY A VISION. For some hours Paul Jones remained in a sfate of al- ternate delirium and stupor. While labouring under the effects of the potion, his ears were assailed continuously by mysterious words, uttered in such unearthly tones, that he could only attribute them to some spirit, or supernatural agency. Whether the draught he had taken had proved too powerful for his exhausted state, or whether his brain wandered but to reveal reality, he could not tell. One thing seemed certain—that the scene pictured and the characters pourtrayed to his vision, were sent as a warning of approaching danger to himself. Suddenly he rose up in a sitting posture, to listen once more to the voices which appeared to issue from the bed of the mighty ocean, upon which the vessel was sailing. He felt unusual fear—a painful foreboding. He knew not why. A violent gust of wind roared round the cabin, the windows were blown in, and the lamp extin- guished. Although the darkness was intense, Paul Jones could discover that he was attended by a stranger, whose form and features were as clear and as defined as if if were noon-day. Struck by the singularity of the circumstance, and choked with agonising sensations, he was unable to utter a word, while an uncontrolable feeling urged him to watch in silence the actions of his mysterious companion. His clothes were saturated with the water which had lately fallen. His visage was white and corpse-like. Remaining for some minutes without motion, this individual approached the invalid, who, partially re- covering from his surprise, found a cold, dripping hand in his own. It was the grasp of ice. The chill of death. Fear seemed to give Paul Jones strength, for he was able to throw himself from his couch, and recoil with horror from the presence of one whom he could look upon but as no other than an apparition. “Am I awake?” he cried, rubbing his eyes and glancing aroundhim. ‘Yes ; I can distinctly behold through the port-hole yon flock of screaming birds, which, scared by an echo, hover across the ocean. “Ah, what is that?” continued the pirate, gazing in the direction he had spoken of. “A black speck as it were from the very centre of the waters, “ It advances. ‘Tt assumes the form of a vessel. ‘ot Now a sail appears, white as the foam preceding i nn Tauern eTsoecan tesaineescanibeiladeeaee aainascamaeeaeaeeee cette en SIA Sema AE AURORA AREA a eA aOR Manin aanalmaammeet rammmemmeeneeen naman aeesseeaabeamaa NEE MT sae IRa apeataa ae Lae taeea eimai oe oeetetasaaen atiseren se tetenaeaeacteoeeame ne ee eS a THE FROZEN CREW AND ICE-BOUND SHIP. “Tt is the barque I have before encountered—it is— “The Flying Dutchman!”’ As these words were uttered a hurricane burst upon the ship. The canvas flew away in ribands. ee Mountains of sea swept over the decks and rigging, whilst in the middle of a deep over-hanging cioud which shrouded the vast expanse, were written in characters of livid flame, the enigmatical sentence— “ Till the crack of doom !’’ “Tisten to me, Paul Jones,’ said the unknown, ‘“‘ for my time is short. One hope alone remains, and for this I am permitted, or rather charged to come here.” “You are no longer a being of this earth, then ?” ‘“‘T am not dead, nor yet am I alive,’’ replied the other. ‘‘I linger between this world and the world of spirits.” “ Your appeal extended to me the signal of con- fidence—your declaration destroys it,’ said the pirate, with a melancholy smile, ‘‘ so dies, too frequently, the last spark of friendship, when the sigh of adversity should fan it to a flame.” “The world, I know, holds in abhorence those who league themselves with powers incomprehensible to man,” returned the unknown, “and you I find areno exception to the general rule. But ’tis an universal error—there are spirits of good as well as evil, and Vanderdecken, of whom you have spoken, is among their number. Before you condemn, you should, at least, not too severely adjudge one who has both the power and inclination to save you.” Paul Jones nodded a seeming assent to these words, and, by his, demeanour, invited his companion to pro- ceed with his discourse. “T can give you joy and influence,” he continued ; ‘wealth is at my command, and I will bestow it on ou.” : “Yes, I have heard of one who guards the trea- sures inexhaustible of a century-lost wreck in these latitudes,’ answered the pirate, ‘treasures which, though watched by a spirit, may yet be yielded toa mortal hand.” “They may be yours, even yours,” exclaimed the stranger, “though you be only the despised and per- secuted Paul Jones, whose long train of dark crimes have branded a name with infamy and brought down upon it the just indignation of every civilised country. ‘“‘ Already,” continued he, “the ships of the out- raged nations are on the track to punish your heinous offences, while the powerful arm of justice is about to avenge those injuries which have stained your soul.” “Forbear, I charge you, man or devil, whichever you be!’’ shouted Paul Jones, raising the sword which rested near his couch. “ I know that I have mankind for my enemy; they know that I am prepared to elude their machinations. They must be daring blood- : hounds, indeed,” added the pirate, “ who would ven- ture to beard their prey in his stronghold, and those who have the temerity to attack my good ship, the El Malachor, will perish as wheaten straw in the glowing furnace. Paul Jones may not bear a charmed life, but, backed by his bold crew, is safe from all alarm !” “ He who puts his trust in his fellow man, leans on a frail reed for support,” was the other’s reply, ‘‘and I am prone to think that it is a pity that a heart which beats with pulsations of nobility of purpose should suffer itself to be so deeply execrated, aera it might be so highly honoured.” y You speak in riddles. What would you have me do?” “Accept the lot which fortune may bestow; in a ———— ———— <SEGON Eomichboo (C