d viciously. "All
together you will get the gold. It is no matter what one English do, the
other absolve for gold. A buccaneer, a stealer of women--no, it is no
matter! All English--all together! But I am French--I am the dirt--I am
for the scuppers. Bah! I will have the same as Bucklaw--you see?"

"You will have the irons, fellow!" Phips roared.

A knife flashed in the air, and Bucklaw's pistol was out at the same
instant. The knife caught Bucklaw in the throat and he staggered against
the table like a stuck pig, the bullet hit Radisson in the chest and he
fell back against the wall, his pistol dropping from his hand. Bucklaw,
bleeding heavily, lurched forwards, pulled himself together, and,
stooping, emptied his pistol into the moaning Radisson. Then he sank on
his knees, snatched the other's pistol, and fired again into Radisson's
belly; after which with a last effort he plunged his own dagger into the
throat of the dying man, and, with his fingers still on the handle, fell
with a gurgling laugh across the Frenchman's body.

Radisson recovered for an instant. He gave a hollow cry, drew the knife
from his own throat and, with a wild, shambling motion, struck at the
motionless Bucklaw, pinning an arm to the ground. Then he muttered an
oath and fell back dead.

The tournament of blood was over. So swift had it been there was no
chance to interfere. Besides, Gering was not inclined to save the life
of either; while Phips, who now knew the chart, as he thought, as well
as Bucklaw, was not concerned, though he liked the mutineer.

For a moment they both looked at the shambles without speaking. Sailors
for whom Phips had whistled crowded the cabin.

"A damned bad start, Mr. Gering," Phips said, as he moved towards the
bodies.

"For them, yes; but they might have given us a bad ending."

"For the Frenchman, he's got less than was brewing for him, but Bucklaw
was a humorous dog."

As he said this he stooped to Bucklaw and turned him over, calling to
the sailors to clean the red trough and bring the dead men on deck, but
presently he cried: "By the devil's tail, the fellow lives! Here, a hand
quick, you lubbers, and fetch the surgeon."

Bucklaw was not dead. He had got two ugly wounds and was bleeding
heavily, but his heart still beat. Radisson's body was carried on deck,
and within half an hour was dropped into the deep. The surgeon, however,
would not permit Bucklaw to be removed until he had been cared for,
and