A few minutes afterwards Phips and Gering were talking in the cabin.
Phips was weighing the silver up and down in his hands.
"At least three hundred good guineas here!" he said. There was a
shuffling behind them, and, as Phips turned, a figure lunged on him,
clutched and hugged the silver. It was Bucklaw.
"Mine! mine!" he called in a hoarse voice, with great gluttonous eyes.
"All mine!" he cried again. Then he gasped and came to the ground in a
heap, with the silver hugged in his arms. All at once he caught at his
throat; the bandage of his wound fell away and there was a rush of blood
over the silver. With a wild laugh he plunged face forward on the metal
--and the blood of the dead Bucklaw consecrated the first-fruits of the
treasure.
As the vessel rode up the harbour the body was dropped into the deep.
"Worse men--worse men, sir, bide with the king," said Phips to Gering.
"A merry villain, that Bucklaw." The ship came to anchor at the buoys,
and no time was lost. Divers were sent down, and by great good luck
found the room where the bullion was stored. The number of divers was
increased, and the work of raising the bullion went on all that day.
There is nothing like the lust for gold in the hearts of men. From stem
to stern of the Bridgwater Merchant and the Swallow, this wild will had
its way. Work went on until the last moment of sun. That night talk was
long and sleep short, and work was on again at sunrise.
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