"Man alive!" exclaimed the Duke, "who doubts it? I do not, who am the chief concerned, nor will the King hear a word. See, here is a testimony I mean to give to Phips. A gold cup I have had made out of a thousand pounds' worth of the treasure. 'Tis for his wife in Boston, now Lady Phips, to whom he hath sent out instructions to buy a fine brick house to live in. For, you must know, the King hath promised him the Governorship of Massachusetts as soon as it falls vacant, when he will be settled for life."
I regarded the cup, very costly and beautiful, engraved, "From Christopher, Duke of Albemarle, to his trusty friend, Sir William Phips," while the Duke bade his servant bring us a tankard, and at that moment in came Sir William himself hot haste to see me.
* * * * * * *
"No," he said to me that night, as we sat at wine in his lodgings hard by the Strand, "no, Nick, that hidden treasure is yours, and yours alone. It belongs not to our providers here, nor does any share pertain to me. You it was who found it, you it was who had all the risk in going to find it. It shall be yours and yours only, since none other of the galliot's crew are now in existence. Only," he went on, "as now you are provided for, I would leave it there awhile. Say, for another generation. For if you go and dig it up now, then will the merchants say that they spoke truly when they accused us of robbing them."
"I shall never go to dig it up," I said, "I will go to sea no more. The Duke tells me there is four thousand pounds for me at Sir Josiah Child's--'tis enough to do very well for my life. I will buy me a little house somewhere, and an annuity from some nobleman with the rest."
"And," went on Sir William, "in that little house find out a hiding place, and leave therein a full description of where your treasure is, so that those who come after you shall, if they care to be at the trouble thereof, discover a fortune. You will be marrying now, Nick, perhaps?"
"Nay," said I, "I think not. Never now! Once when my heart was young and fresh I did love a sweet young girl--she was the daughter of a retired officer of Oliver's, and they dwelt at Kew--but the smallpox ravaged the land and took her from me. I find myself thinking of her often now; perhaps 'tis because the time is drawing near when I shall see her again, as young and fair as she was in those bygone, happy days; but I shall never have a wife."
"Poor Nick, poor Nick," said Phips, laying his great hand very gently on my shoulder. "Poor Nick. So you have had your romance too. Ah, well! so have most men." Then a little later he said, "You know I go out again with Sir John Narborough--I cannot rest quietly at home in Boston till my rule begins in Massachusetts--we shall be near your little Key--shall I go and dig your spoil up? I would do it most faithfully for you, Nick, as you know."
"No," I answered, after pondering awhile. "No, not unless you will do so and take it, or some of it, for yourself."
"That," said he, "I will never do. Not a stiver, not one coin. 'Tis all yours."