The man stood very quiet, now and again, however, raising the hook to
stroke his chin. He showed no fear, but Iberville, with his habit of
observation, caught in his eyes, shining superficially with a sailor's
open honesty, a strange ulterior look. "My business," so he answered
Nicholls, "is for your excellency's ears." He bowed again.

"Have done with scraping. Now, I tell you what, my gentle spy, if your
business hath not concern, I'll stretch you by your fingers there to our
public gallows, and my fellows shall fill you with small shot as full as
a pod of peas."

The governor rose and went into another room, followed by this strange
visitor and the two soldiers. There he told the guard to wait at the
door, which entered into the ante-room. Then he unlocked a drawer and
took out of it a pair of pistols. These he laid on the table (for he
knew the times), noting the while that the seaman watched him with a
pensive, deprecating grin.

"Well, sir," he said sharply (for he was something nettled), "out with
your business, and your name in preface."

"My name is Edward Bucklaw, and I have come to your excellency because
I know there is no braver and more enterprising gentleman in the world."
He paused. "So much for preamble; now for the discourse."

"By your excellency's leave. I am a poor man. I have only my little
craft and a handful of seamen picked up at odd prices. But there's gold
and silver enough I know of, owned by no man, to make cargo and ballast
for the Nell Gwynn, or another twice her size."