"I cannot, my little lad," said Phips, "go with you, nor send the men; the plank would not bear our big forms when bored, and they might see us. Otherwise, and if I could do it, I would not send one of such tender years as thou art. So be brave, and so fare-ye-well and a speedy return." He laid his great hand on the boy's shoulder as he spake, and bid him again "God speed;" and then the child went forth, his little heart quite brave and cheerful. Only, when he was gone, they found he had left upon his sea-chest, writ large, the place where his mother lived and to where she might be addressed if he came back no more; and also he had writ a little prayer to Phips that he would speak well of him to her, and say that he died in his duty. That he might so die all knew; and from his writing they learned he knew it, too. For there were many ways to it. The mutineers would doubtless shoot him if they saw him on the plank, and so begin their wicked work at once, or the plank might fall under him, or he fall off it in the dark, when it was well possible--the water being deep enough--that the sharks should have him. So he went forth, and, of those who saw him go, one or two crept along the rock after him to watch and see if all was well, and they observed, and told afterwards, how he never faltered in his task. Through the darkness of that black night he creeped upon the plank, making no noise, and, laying himself flat out upon it, went to work. Once those behind said they heard the muffled sound of the screws as he fixed tight the staples--though those who knew not what was a-doing might have thought 'twas but the creaking of the board! And once they heard him let fall a screw into the water that plumped in with a little splash. But that was all, and presently by his breathing they heard him coming back. He had done his work--the springe was set! He had done that work well, too, only, so wrought upon was his mind, that, when he once more stood upon the deck of the frigate, he fainted, and fell into the Captain's arms as the latter spake approvingly to him. Now, therefore, there was nought for them on the ship to do but to wait the coming of the dawn--tho' all in her hoped the mutineers might make their attack ere then. For, if they came when the dayspring was about, it was possible they might perceive the piercings of the plank: while, if they came earlier, they could see nought.