up a furtive look at Phips, but he caught a grim smile on the face of the
sturdy sailor. He knew at once there was no treachery meant, and he
guessed that Phips expected no crisis. It was ever his way to act with
promptness, being never so resourceful as when his position was most
critical: he was in the power of Gering and Phips, and he knew it, but
he knew also that his game must be a bold one.

"By-gones are by-gones, captain," he said; "and what's done can't be
helped, and as it was no harm came anyhow."

"By-gones are by-gones," replied the other, "and let's hope that Mr.
Gering will say so too."

"Haven't you told him, sir?"

"Never a word--but I'll send for him now, and bygones let it be."

Bucklaw nodded, and drummed the table with his tiger. He guessed why
Phips had not told Gering, and he foresaw trouble. He trusted, however,
to the time that had passed since the kidnapping, and on Gering's hunger
for treasure. Phips had compromised, and why not he? But if Gering was
bent on trouble, why, there was the last resource of the peace-lover. He
tapped the rapier at his side. He ever held that he was peaceful, and it
is recorded that at the death of an agitated victim, he begged him to
"sit still and not fidget."

He laid no plans as to what he should do when Gering came. Like the true
gamester, he waited to see how he should be placed; then he could draw
upon his resources. He was puzzled about Radisson, but Radisson could
wait; he was so much the superior of the coarser villain that he gave him