IN THE MATTER OF BUCKLAW

The Bridgwater Merchant and the Swallow made the voyage down with no set-
backs, having fair weather and a sweet wind on their quarter all the way,
to the wild corner of an island, where a great mountain stands sentinel
and a bay washes upon a curving shore and up the. River de la Planta.
There were no vessels in the harbour and there was only a small
settlement on the shore, and as they came to anchor well away from the
gridiron of reefs known as the Boilers, the prospect was handsome: the
long wash of the waves, the curling, white of the breakers, and the
rainbow-coloured water. The shore was luxuriant, and the sun shone
intemperately on the sea and the land, covering all with a fine beautiful
haze, like the most exquisite powder sifted through the air. All on
board the Bridgwater Merchant and the Swallow were in hearty spirits.
There had been some sickness, but the general health of the expedition
was excellent.

It was not till the day they started from Boston that Phips told Gering
he expected to meet some one at the port who had gone to prepare the way,
to warn them by fires in case of danger, and to allay any opposition
among the natives--if there were any. But he had not told him who the
herald was.

Truth is, Phips was anxious that Gering should have no chance of
objecting to the scoundrel who had, years before, tried to kidnap his now
affianced wife--who had escaped a deserved death on the gallows. It was
a rude age, and men of Phips's quality, with no particular niceness as to
women, or horror as to mutiny when it was twenty years old, compromised
with their conscience for expediency and gain. Moreover, in his humorous
way, Bucklaw, during his connection with Phips in England, had made