sfaction at Bucklaw's presence; and in a moment they were on
their way together to the cabin, followed by the eyes of the enraged
Radisson. Phips disliked Radisson; the sinister Frenchman, with his evil
history, was impossible to the open, bluff captain. He had been placed
upon Phips's vessel because he knew the entrance to the harbour; but try
as he would for a kind of comradeship, he failed: he had an ugly vanity
and a bad heart. There was only one decent thing which still clung to
him in rags and tatters--the fact that he was a Frenchman. He had made
himself hated on the ship--having none of the cunning tact of Bucklaw.
As Phips and Bucklaw went below, a sudden devilry entered into him. He
was ripe for quarrel, eager for battle. His two black eyes were like
burning beads, his jaws twitched. If Bucklaw had but met him without
this rough, bloodless irony, he might have thrown himself with ardour
into the work of the expedition; but he stood alone, and hatred and war
rioted in him.

Below in the cabin Phips and Bucklaw were deep in the chart of the
harbour and the river. The plan of action was decided upon. A canoe
was to be built out of a cotton-tree large enough to carry eight or ten
oars. This and the tender, with men and divers, were to go in search of
the wreck under the command of Bucklaw and the captain of the Swallow,
whose name Phips did not mention. Phips himself was to remain on the
Bridgwater Merchant, the Swallow lying near with a goodly number of men
to meet any possible attack from the sea. When all was planned, Phips
told Bucklaw who was the commander of the Swallow. For a moment the
fellow's coolness was shaken; the sparkle died out of his eye and he
shot up a furtive look at Phips, but he caught a grim smile on the face
of the sturdy sailor. He knew at once there was no treachery meant, and
he guessed that Phips expected no crisis. It was ever his way to act
with promptness, being never so resourceful as when his position was
most critical: he was in the power of Gering and Phips, and he knew it,
but he knew also that his game must be a bold one.

"By-gones are by-gones, captain," he said; "and what's done can't be
helped, and as it was no harm came anyhow."

"By-gones are by-gones," replied the other, "and let's hope that Mr.
Gering will say so too."

"Haven't you told him, sir?"

"Never a word--but I'll send for him now, and bygones let it be."

Bucklaw nodded, and drummed the table with his ti