. They dared not
fly; they dared not fight. Panic fear took possession of
them. They fell upon their knees in a body, begged the
captain not to fire, and vowed that they would rather live
and die with him than any man in the world. All they had
found fault with was that he would not turn pirate;
otherwise he was the man of their hearts.

The captain was stern; they were humble and beseeching. In
the end he made them deliver up their arms, and then
permitted them to come on board, a thoroughly quelled body
of mutineers. But Captain Phips knew better than to trust
these men a third time. The moment the ship was in sailing
trim he hoisted anchor and sailed for Jamaica, where he
turned the whole crew, except the few faithful ones, adrift,
and shipped another crew, smaller, but, as he hoped, more
trustworthy.

The treasure-ship still drew him like a magnet. He had not
begun to think of giving up the search. Discouragement,
failure, mutiny, were to him but incidents. The silver was
there, somewhere, and have it he would, if perseverance
would avail. From Jamaica he sailed to Hispaniola. There his
fluent persuasiveness came again into play. He met a very
old man, Spaniard or Portuguese, who was said to know where
the ship lay, and "by the policy of his address" wormed from
him some further information about the treasure-ship. The
old man told him that it had been wrecked on a reef of
shoals a few leagues from Hispaniola, and just north of Port
de la Plata, which place got its name from the landing there
of a boat-load of sailors with plate saved from the sinking
vessel. Phips proceeded thither and searched narrowly, but
without avail. The sea held its treasures well. The charmed
spot was not to be found. The new crew, also, seemed growing
mutinous. Phips had had enough of mutiny. He hoisted sail
and made the best of his way back to England.

Here trouble and annoyance awaited him. He found powerful
enemies. Doubtless ridicule also met his projects. To plough
the bottom of the Atlantic, in search of a ship that had
gone down fifty years before, certainly seemed to yield fair
food for mirth. Yet the polite behavior, the plausible
speech, the enthusiasm and energy of the man had their
effect. He won friends among the higher nobility. The story
of the mutiny and of its bold suppression had also its
effect. A man who could attack a horde of armed mutineers
with his bare fists, a man so ready and resolute in time of
danger