day when life seemed to stand still; a creamy haze ingrained with
delicate blue had settled on land and sea; the long white rollers slowly
travelled over the Boilers, and the sea rocked like a great cradle.
Indefiniteness of thought, of time, of event, seemed over all; on board
the two ships life swung idly as a hammock; but only so in appearance.

Phips was leaning against the deck-house, watching through his glass the
search-canoes. Presently he turned and walked aft. As he did so the
surgeon and the chief mate came running towards him. They had not time
to explain, for came streaming upon deck a crowd of mutineers. Phips did
not hesitate an instant; he had no fear--he was swelling with anger.

"Why now, you damned dogs," he blurted out, "what mean you by this?
What's all this show of cutlasses?"

The ringleader stepped forwards. "We're sick of doing nothing," he
answered. "We've come on a wild goose chase. There's no treasure here.
We mean you no harm; we want not the ship out of your hands."

"Then," cried Phips, "in the name of all the devils, what want you?"

"Here's as we think: there's nothing to be got out of this hunt, but
there's treasure on the high seas all the same. Here's our offer: keep
command of your ship and run up the black flag!"

Phips's arm shot out and dropped the man to the ground.

"That's it, you filthy rogues!" he roared. "Me to turn pirate, eh?
You'd set to weaving ropes for the necks of every one of us--blood of my
soul!"