"Gold and silver," said the governor, cocking his ear and eyeing his
visitor up and down. Colonel Nicholls had an acquisitive instinct; he
was interested. "Well, well, gold and silver," he continued, "to fill
the Nell Gwynn and another! And what concern is that of mine? Let your
words come plain off your tongue; I have no time for foolery."

"'Tis no foolery on my tongue, sir, as you may please to see."

He drew a paper from his pocket and shook it out as he came a little
nearer, speaking all the while. His voice had gone low, running to a
soft kind of chuckle, and his eyes were snapping with fire, which
Iberville alone had seen was false. "I have come to make your
excellency's fortune, if you will stand by with a good, stout ship
and a handful of men to see me through."

The governor shrugged his shoulders. "Babble," he said, "all babble and
bubble. But go on."

"Babble, your honour! Every word of it is worth a pint of guineas; and
this is the pith of it. Far down West Indies way, some twenty-five,
maybe, or thirty years ago, there was a plate ship wrecked upon a reef.
I got it from a Spaniard, who had been sworn upon oath to keep it secret
by priests who knew. The priests were killed and after a time the
Spaniard died also, but not until he had given me the ways whereby I
should get at what makes a man's heart rap in his weasand."

"Let me see your chart," said the governor.

A half-hour later he rose, went to the door, and sent a soldier for the