#this is NOT livesey himself lets be clear
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The most DANGEROUS gold watcher-
Dr. Goldsey, one could say...
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seadragon-sailing · 2 years ago
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The Crew From Guangzhou: Turning the Tides
Everyone was exhausted after the events that unfolded on Skeleton Island.  The harrowing battles with Silver’s men, traversing the unknown tropical lands, and having to haul Flint’s treasure onto the Hispaniola was no easy feat for a crew that shrank from twenty-three men to merely six by the end.  Now, all they wanted to do was go home with their newly acquired riches.  Unfortunately, the drastically smaller number of hands able to operate the Hispaniola only meant more work that needed to be done, putting much more pressure on the rest the moment they set sail for Bristol.  It was going to be a long, long trip back home.
At least the weather was in their favor!  The blue skies above were clear, the ocean waves were calm, and the sea-salted breeze helped keep them cool as the sun shined down upon them.  Jim was more than happy to station himself up in the crow’s nest while Captain Smollett, Dr. Livesey and Ben Gunn milled around on the deck.  Meanwhile, Silver had his hands full serving up a meal for Squire Trelawney, gladly returning to being the ship cook after managing to convince Livesey and the others that he was willing to help however he could.  Anything to make sure they kept their word to help him escape the noose when his fair trial came around.
In spite of the expected difficulties to come, all six of them were determined to make things work.  For Jim, that was enough to help him keep his spirits high, and do his part.  So far, the cabin boy couldn’t see anything that could get in their way, nothing remotely remarkable aside from a passing skerry.  Jim merely spared a small glance at it as the Hispaniola smoothly sailed past, that islet of rocks was probably nothing in comparison to what he saw back on–What he and some of the others had taken to calling it– “Treasure Island”.  Suddenly, Jim’s train of thought was interrupted when he shifted his gaze towards the stern, and his stomach dropped.
A Frigate ship had practically appeared out of thin air, and was trailing behind the Hispaniola at a concerningly high speed.  From where he was posted, Jim could see a black flag waving proudly at the end of the mast… The Jolly Roger.
“Pirates incoming!” Jim called down to the others as best as his typically soft-spoken voice could muster.  
He thanked god that his friends heard him, feeling a sense of reassurance seeing that the hard-working trio dropped whatever they were doing in order to see the vessel that was pursuing them.
“To your stations, men!  Prepare for combat!” Smollett commanded, standing at attention while Livesey and Ben primed themselves for a fight.
BOOM!
Cannonballs shot through the air from the pirate ship, the first one crashing straight through a window and demolishing the feast that was laid out on the table just before Trelawney could get a single bite in.  Hearing the familiar explosion of a cannon, Silver rushed out from the galley and onto the deck to see what was causing the commotion.  The Frigate drew near, allowing just enough space for the pirates to secure their grappling hooks onto the Hispaniola’s railing and before they knew it, the crew of six were under attack.  Livesey and Smollett took up their swords to face off with as many as they could take, Silver found himself only able to pull out his trusty switchblade before entering the fray while Ben Gunn took to using his brute strength.  Watching it all unfold from above, Jim frantically searched for anything he could use to aid him in combat.
There was no time to load a gun, but at least he could grab a spare sword just before making his way down onto the bow.  He narrowly avoided getting hit by incoming cannonballs in the process, but he slipped off the bow and landed head first into a tall coil of chains, knocking him out before he knew what happened.  Jim was down for the count, but at least he was hidden safely within the chains and left alone by the pirates.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Trelawney demanded furiously, only to let out a shout as a burly pirate rushed straight into him before he could even get out of the doorway, sending both of them back into the wrecked cabin.
For every pirate the men defeated, two more seemed to take their place.  Livesey could only handle so many until he was subdued after getting tangled up in lassos, and Smollett was given the same treatment.  Ben and Silver fought tooth and nail until they were knocked down and buried under a dog pile of fiends long enough to get bound by rope, huffing and puffing with exhaustion.  Everywhere they looked, no friendly face could be found, only the ugly mugs of pirates leering down menacingly.  Once the dust settled, a booming fit of triumphant laughter broke out from behind the wall of pirates surrounding them.
“Well, I’ll be damned! What do we have here?” A harsh, mocking voice chuckled as a hobbling figure pushed past the surrounding fiends.
The man was dressed in a worn-out blue coat and black hat, sporting an untamed brunette beard and a single golden tooth among a mouth full of discolored teeth.
“Gold Tooth…” Silver growled from under his breath, squinting one eye to get a better look at the other captain who was victoriously scanning over his hostages.
“Long John Silver!  By thunder, who would have guessed I’d find you aboard a schooner answering to someone other than Flint,” Gold Tooth guffawed mockingly.
“You knew we were going on a treasure hunt, Gold Tooth. Spare me the rubbish,” The ship cook grumbled in annoyance, his tone calm as ever despite the circumstances. 
“You know each other?” Smollett demanded, glaring daggers at Silver as a sense of betrayal boiled his blood. “Silver, you treacherous bastard, I knew I should’ve—!”
“I’m not here to rescue Silver, you blowhard!  If anything, I should thank you and these landlubbers for knocking ole’ One-leg off of his high horse for us!” Gold Tooth interjected rudely, leading his gang in a round of uproarious laughter and howling until he had to stop and catch his breath.
Afterwards, Gold Tooth turned his full attention to Captain Smollett.
“Judging by the direction this dinky piece of driftwood was sailing, I reckon that you lot were trying to get away with Flint’s treasure, eh?” He smirked knowingly, grabbing the captain by his cravat before hauling him up to eye level.
“You can’t prove that!  Do you know who you are dealing with?!” Captain Smollett defiantly retorted, gritting his teeth with furious indignation.
“You don’t have the high ground, Smollett. I don’t think they’d care even if they knew,” Silver bluntly stated while rolling his eyes.
“Let me go, you filthy bastard!” A shrill voice demanded, garnering the attention of the rest who turned to see Trelawney being carried out of the cabin tucked underneath the arm of a heavier-built pirate, tied up like a struggling beef roast.  “I said, put me down!”
“Your wish is my command, Squire,” The fiend responded in a devilish drawl, haphazardly dumping the man right onto Smollett and Livesey.
“Oi! Watch it!” Smollett yelped, having been on the receiving end of an accidental kick to the face from Trelawney’s heeled shoe.
“Enough squawking!  I’m only going to say this once, old boy… Hand over the key to the ship hold, or I’ll be taking it off your cold dead carcass after gutting you like a fish,” Gold Tooth demanded, his grotesque smile turning into a snarling frown as he got practically nose-to-nose with Smollett.
The Hispaniola crew fell deathly silent, all eyes on Smollett to see how the sailor would handle himself with his back against the wall and his crewmates undoubtedly doomed to a fate that led to being sent to Davy Jones’ Locker.
SCHUNK! 
Without warning, a blood-curdling scream shattered the tense quiet clouding the deck, followed by a dull thud of a body dropping onto the floor.  In an instant, the situation was turned topsy-turvy; Gold Tooth’s prisoners were now an afterthought, his attention completely hijacked by the sight of one of his men lying dead on the deck from what appeared to be an arrow sticking out the back of his head.
“What the hell…?” Gold Tooth mumbled staring in astonishment while his crew were frozen, gawking with eyes full of terror.
SCHUNK! SCHUNK! SCHUNK!
THUD!  THUD! THUD!
A few more pirates hit the deck lifelessly, all of them bleeding out from getting pierced by arrows.
“Incoming enemy fire!” A pirate cried out, turning everyone’s attention up to the skies to see just what killed more of their crew.
Arrows rained down upon the pirates, all of them shooting up and out from a towering Combat Galleon ship that somehow managed to sneak up on all of them.  
BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM–
A cacophony of explosions thundered as a barrage of cannonballs were fired at Captain Gold Tooth’s ship, sending many of his pirates screaming down into the deep after falling overboard or being blasted right off their feet.  There was no flag waving from its mast, it appeared to be a stateless vessel from what everyone on the Hispaniola and the Frigate ship could tell.
“Don’t just stand there, you bunch of yellow-bellies!  Fire the cannons!” Gold Tooth barked, drawing his sword while his crew followed suit and scrambled into action.  “To your stations, men!”
Even though a fair number of Gold Tooth’s men lingered on the Hispaniola, none of them were focused on keeping an eye on the hostages.  Instead, while the Frigate was swarmed with what appeared to be over a hundred armed people, a mini-battalion leapt onto the Hispaniola armed with Dao swords, various polearms, staffs and guns.  That was when it became obvious that these people definitely weren’t sent by any Navy they were familiar with.  The members of the cavalry were dressed in various Manchu attire, although some were sporting more familiar European pieces like buckle shoes, frock coats and tricorne hats.  Even their combat style was completely foreign to all of them; some moved in fluid motions and precise yet hard-hitting strikes, others grappled and utilized low-sweeping kicks to knock the enemies off their feet before dispatching them.
Smollett and the others could only look on in utter confusion, each of them exchanging puzzled glances with one another to try and see if anyone recognized the mysterious folks.  Little did the pirates know, they let one passenger completely slip out from under their noses.  Not long after his friends got round up, Jim had regained consciousness, opting to lie in wait until he could use the diversion before slinking over to where his friends were left restrained, progressively getting closer until he could jump at the opportunity to cut the ropes with his sword without the pirates noticing.  
“Brilliant, my boy!  We’re free!” Livesey cheered proudly while touseling Jim’s hair, his trademark Cheshire grin returning as he valiantly equipped his sword. 
“To arms!” Smollett commanded, raising his weapon high before charging right back into battle alongside the others.
Now that the odds were more in their favor, the Hispaniola crew’s determination was rekindled and all of them felt ready to keep fighting the enemy till the end.
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missmeltycat · 2 years ago
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The Great Barnaby Treasure
A Treasure Island sequel.
It's been 4 years since the treasure of Captain Flint was recovered from the island and everyone is extremely bored of retirement. It's a good thing that something new has come into Trelawney's possession which opens up a brand new adventure for all!
Treasure Island was a book written by Scottish author Robert Louis Stevenson. It was serialised from 1881 to 1882 in the children's magazine Young Folks, under the title Treasure Island or the Mutiny of the Hispaniola and the book was first published on the 14 November 1883.
Treasure Island (1881-1883 onwards) is public domain and this sequel is written in accordance with public domain written works. - All credits for the original storyline, characters and concepts to the original author.
Chapter 1
It had been 4 years since the treasure of Captain Flint had been found on that wretched island, but for everyone involved it felt like an eternity. Retirement, while a sparkling and exciting prospect at first, became dull and dreary.
Alexander Smollett was languishing in his house, dreaming of his past glory days and wishing he was back at the helm, spitting away his orders at the menfolk aboard.
David Livesey was just as tired of the lifestyle that retirement had offered him. His brain needed something to keep busy, so he had ended up taking the odd medical commission here and there, despite his wealth and employment status. Or lack thereof.
Squire John Trelawney had become so wretchedly bored that he had begun to collect random objects and his home was filled to the brim with artefacts from all over. The stranger, the better. This was also where he had met his current fancy. A man named Elias Granger, a collector on paper, but more of an underhanded pickpocket and small-time cat burglar if truth was to be told.
Ben Gunn had all but vanished. No trace of him was to be found, but it was assumed that he was happy somewhere, partaking in his cheese-based hobbies.
Jim was possibly the most fortunate of the lot. Since he had returned with a sum of the treasure, he had helped his mother return the Admiral Benbow Inn to its former glory. No, perhaps even better than before. The Inn was heaving with activity and was always filled with laughter, merriment and the occasional soldier, or sailor. But the sign above the door made it extremely clear that pirates were NOT welcome. Not at all.
Jim had decided long ago that he would never return to the island again to retrieve the remnants of gold that he believed to still be there. He was content in his lot at the Inn, helping his mother and attending the guests. It was not a glittering profession, nor was it as exciting as the prospect of using the money to collect artefacts, but he was extremely satisfied and content. He would move for no man. Or so he told himself.
Elias Granger had been visiting Trelawney, as was usually the custom for a Tuesday evening. He had exited the front door, a slight flush to his cheeks and his hair somewhat dishevelled. As he took a number of steps down the street, he passed Livesey and gave a slight nod in acknowledgement, which was returned with grace and gratitude from the ever-smiling man.
Livesey knocked on the door and waited for the doors to open, before he stomped his way inside and made his way up to the lounge where he knew that his friend the Squire would be.
As the door heaved open, Trelawney raised his head with a cheeky smile, and it almost caught David off guard. He let out a long and almost, melodious laugh as he waved a hand. “I say, my good fellow, what has you so enthused this evening?”
Usually, the man was very happy after one of Elias’ visits, but this time he was extra pleased with himself and Livesey needed to know why. Trelawney’s whims often had a habit of dragging him into them, so he needed to be aware of any potential dangers of that cheeky grin.
“I have just come into possession of something that might interest you.” The Squire was almost bouncing with excitement as he placed the small, neatly wrapped package on the table in front of him.
“Oh no, not one of your rude little carvings again. I told you, Trelawney, once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them a-“ Livesey was cut off by his friend, who raised a hand to silence the Doctor and his smile, somehow, grew wider over his plump face. “This is not one of those. This is something entirely different.”
“Good. If I saw one more phallic pieces of jasper, I swore I was going to move to Jamaica.”
“Shh! Take a look!” The Squire slowly slid the package towards Livesey, who slowly reached for it with his gloved hands. After delicately fingering the string free of it’s knot, he unfurled the hessian and stared at the contents in silence for a moment. Trelawney almost held his breath waiting for a reaction from the large man in front of him.
“It’s a rock.”
“Not just any rock!”
“Yes, it’s schist!”
“Language, Livesey, tsk tsk!”
Livesey let out a laugh that almost shook the walls. “No, no, Trelawney. Schist. The rock. A medium-grained metamorphic rock!”
“Well, regardless of what it is, it’s very important.”
“Oh? How so?” Livesey turned the rock in his hand, holding it between his forefinger and thumb, before looking at it from underneath and above. “It looks rather ordinary to me.”
“That’s what they want you to think!”
He lowered the rock and blinked curiously at Trelawney. “Pardon me? Who is ‘they’?”
The Squire leaned half across the table, his feet raising from the floor and wiggling in an almost comical manner as he whispered as if the very walls had ears. “Captain Barnaby!”
David knew who Captain Barnaby was. He was part of many children’s games and the subject of many a fantastical tale. He was a pirate who had reputedly left treasure in a secret location and had set up a very secret and hard to follow trail to find it. Only those in the know, who were very brave, or with nothing left to lose could stand to find the treasure.
The usual grinning countenance of the Doctor faded into an almost alien expression of distrust and his voice lowered in tone.
“John.”
Trelawney batted him away dismissively with a groan. “Don’t call me by my first name like that! I know what you are thinking! But this legend could have basis in fact! Just look at Flint’s trove, that was real and we found it!”
“Even if it was real, there were several occasions in our last venture in which we almost came to a grizzly end. All of us.”
“Yes, that is true, but surely you…” He thrust out a finger at the Doctor and wiggled it accusingly. “Surely you of all people can’t tell me that you wouldn’t be just a LITTLE interested in this.”
Livesey rolled his eyes, his smile returning once again. “OK, Trelawney, let’s hear about your little rock friend.”
Satisfied that he was now listening and taking him seriously, the Squire plopped back down on his rear end with a smile, took the rock and pointed to it. “This particular type of rock can be found in a number of places. But, there is a location where there is only a small amount of it.”
“Go on.”
Trelawney reached for the small piece of parchment that had lined the hessian parcel and handed it to Livesey, who proceeded to examine it carefully.
“I see. So, this location has what exactly?” He wanted him to spell it out exactly, because to his ears it almost sounded as if he was about to burst out of his front door and hop on a ship that very moment.
“The next clue!”
Another wry laugh left Livesey’s lips. “So, why don’t you hire someone to go and see? How about that Granger fellow you see every Tuesday?”
“He’s the one who got this schist in the first place.”
“Tut tut, Squire. And you told me about my language.”
A moment of silence passed between the two, before they each erupted with laughter.
“Oh Livesey, just think! We could find this lost treasure like we did before!”
“Are you not rich enough? Are we all not rich enough?”
“Livesey, I am NEVER rich enough, but that’s entirely besides the point. It’s not about the gold. It’s about the adventure! It’s about all four of us, Jim, Smollett, you and I setting off on a grand adventure once again!”
“Hah, I highly doubt that you would be able to convince Smollett to join us, or Jim for that matter. Last I saw, the dear boy was very content at the Benbow Inn taking care of his customers.”
“Tosh! Once we explain it to them I have no doubt in my mind that they will leap at the chance for another adventure, by jove!”
The Squire gesticulated so enthusiastically that he knocked over a goblet of wine and it rolled onto the floor. Livesey’s eyes followed it and never left it as he suddenly realised what had been said. “Pardon me? We? I do hope you mean the royal we.”
“Heaven’s David! Of course I want you to help me with this. They wouldn’t listen to just me alone, would they? Your words hold weight. Jim trusts you.”
“There you go using first names.” Livesey’s eyes snapped back to his friend and a brow slowly raised. “And that is precisely what concerns me. Jim does trust me and I would hate to lead him astray or into danger when he is doing so well now.”
“Nonsense. He’s still young. This is what young people live for! Let us find out, shall we?” With that, Trelawney hopped to his feet and began marching his way to the door. “That is, if you are so convinced he will say no.”
“I guarantee it!”
“How about we wager that?”
“Trelawney, gambling is a slippery slope, you know.” Livesey got to his feet and stomped his way over, before shaking the man’s hand. “Deal.”
“Good man. Let us make haste!”
The pair bolted down the stairs and to the foyer, almost giving the staff a heart attack with their urgency.
“My carriage at once!” The Squire raised a finger triumphantly, if a little melodramatic.
Livesey chimed in to attempt to soften the request. “If you would be so kind.”
It didn’t take them long to hitch the horses to the carriage and bring it around and the two men climbed aboard, Trelawney clutching the rock and parchment, an almost childishly excited expression on his face.
“So, about our wager. I was thinking one thousand pounds should Jim accept!”
“Good gracious,” laughed Livesey, “That’s extravagant of you.”
“Scared you will lose?”
“Not at all, I’m actually more scared that you will be crying into your teacup later due to losing some money to me when I prove you wrong.” The Doctor reclined, a smug sort of grin on his face as he watched Trelawney’s face drop into a petulant frown. “You’ll see! I’ll make you eat your hat!”
“Now now, a monetary wager is fine by my, there’s no need to bring my poor hat into it.” Livesey patted his headgear with a hand. “Besides, I simply couldn’t do that to my poor digestion.”
-----------
It didn’t take them too long to arrive at the Admiral Benbow Inn and once they pulled up, they exited the carriage and Livesey opened the door to the inn with one hand, while the other gestured for the Squire to enter.
Inside, the place was bustling with guests, all sat around laughing and enjoying the fireplace. Jim was no doubt tending the bar area in the adjoining room and so they opened the door and stepped in. The buzz of the room was almost disorienting, and Trelawney grasped hold of Livesey’s coat to keep himself from falling over.
Jim was indeed at the bar, filling up mugs for the guests and wiping with his cloth. He had matured rather strikingly over the 4 years that had past and he had blossomed into a fine-looking young man.
His mother was the first to notice the two men in the doorway and came swooping over. “Squire! Doctor! What brings you here on this fine evening?”
The pair lowered their hat and gave a small, respectful bow to the woman, before Trelawney piped up in response to her question. “We are here to speak to Jim. We have-“
Livesey elbowed him sharply in the side of the head. Had the man been taller, he would have hit his ribs, but since he wasn’t, the head would have to do. “OOCH!” There was no sense in revealing everything to Jim's mother, after all, she could be instantly worried and throw them out. Even if that lost Trelawney the thousand pounds, it was not worth breaking trust.
“Oh, I do beg your pardon, my old friend, it’s just so terribly cramped inside this doorframe!”
“Oh!” Jim’s mother instantly took hold of their sleeves and dragged them towards a corner where a table was free. “I do apologise, I should have at least offered you a seat and a drink first!”
As the pair sat, they waved a hand at her dismissively, before she turned and walked to the bar to sort some drinks for them both. She returned quickly and paced them down in front of them. “Jim said he will only be a short while. As soon as he serves the three customers he has he will be right with you!” She smiled kindly and turned to serve the next customer who had flagged her over.
“Lovely lady,” Commented Trelawney.
“Quite.”
“I say, Livesey?”
“Yes?”
“Why is it that you never married?”
The Doctor was mid-sip of his drink when the Squire asked and he all but choked on it, spraying it back into his mug. After he hammered on his chest with his fist a few times to clear his airways of the liquid, he shot his companion such a stare that was enough to scare the spines off of a cactus.
“I’m simply asking! Why, you could do a lot worse…”
“You cannot be suggesting what I think you are suggesting.”
The Squire’s eyebrows did a suggestive dance across his forehead. “Why not go see if she is free for courting? A man such as yourself shouldn’t be a bachelor all of his life, hm?”
The mere suggestion sent an absolute blaze through Livesey’s blood to the point that his skin was as red as beets and he had to attempt to hide his face behind his hat for fear of combusting on the spot. “Why not go and see if Jim is ready to talk?”
Trelawney was about to rise from his seat when Jim came strolling over, adjusted his glasses and smiled at the pair happily. “Oh, it’s so good to see you both!” It was then he noted Livesey’s condition. “Doctor, are you OK?”
“Perfectly fine, my boy! Simply a momentary flash of heat, nothing more!” He placed his hat in his lap and gestured to the spare seat in front of them.
Jim sat down and sniffed. “So, what can I do for you tonight? My mother said you wished to speak to me.”
“Yes, we have something we…” Livesey was cut off by Trelawney, who was now bouncing in his seat like a puppy waiting for a ball to be thrown.
“Ohhhhh let me, Livesey! Let me tell him, please!”
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incomingalbatross · 3 years ago
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I have returned with Receipts because I like this book.
(Also a readmore because this is kinda long.)
The reason they end up sailing for the treasure in the first place is because Jim brings the map to Dr. Livesey, who he already respects as the only person who could make Billy Bones shut up:
“To be sure, boy; quite right,” said he. “I’ll take it, if you like.”
“In fact, sir, I believe I have the thing [they were after] in my breast pocket; and to tell you the truth, I should like to get it put in safety.”
“I thought perhaps Dr. Livesey—” I began.
Later, when Jim learns of the mutiny, he goes to Dr. Livesey first and is trusted enough to be listened to:
[A]s soon as I was near enough to speak and not to be overheard, I broke immediately, “Doctor, let me speak. Get the captain and squire down to the cabin, and then make some pretence to send for me. I have terrible news.”
The doctor changed countenance a little, but next moment he was master of himself.
“Thank you, Jim,” said he quite loudly, “that was all I wanted to know,” as if he had asked me a question.
In the stress of the siege, when they’re stuck in the little stockade onshore, the doctor is still making time for Jim and we see again that Jim thinks highly of him:
From time to time the doctor came to the door for a little air and to rest his eyes, which were almost smoked out of his head, and whenever he did so, he had a word for me.
---
“Why, in the name of Davy Jones,” said he, “is Dr. Livesey mad?”
“Why no,” says I. “He’s about the last of this crew for that, I take it.”
When Jim foolishly and irresponsibly sneaks away from the stockade and ends up in the pirates’ hands, Silver (trying to recruit him) tells him that after his desertion he’ll have to “keep clear of the cap’n” and “the doctor himself is gone dead against you—’ungrateful scamp’ was what he said.”
Jim “partly believed” it, but he’s just glad they’re alive, and this is his response to the “join us or die” ultimatum:
“Well,” said I, “I am not such a fool but I know pretty well what I have to look for. Let the worst come to the worst, it’s little I care. I’ve seen too many die since I fell in with you. But there’s a thing or two I have to tell you,” I said, and by this time I was quite excited; “and the first is this: here you are, in a bad way—ship lost, treasure lost, men lost, your whole business gone to wreck; and if you want to know who did it—it was I! I was in the apple barrel the night we sighted land, and I heard you, John, and you, Dick Johnson, and Hands, who is now at the bottom of the sea, and told every word you said before the hour was out. And as for the schooner, it was I who cut her cable, and it was I that killed the men you had aboard of her, and it was I who brought her where you’ll never see her more, not one of you. The laugh’s on my side; I’ve had the top of this business from the first; I no more fear you than I fear a fly. Kill me, if you please, or spare me. But one thing I’ll say, and no more; if you spare me, bygones are bygones, and when you fellows are in court for piracy, I’ll save you all I can. It is for you to choose. Kill another and do yourselves no good, or spare me and keep a witness to save you from the gallows.”
I stopped, for, I tell you, I was out of breath, and to my wonder, not a man of them moved, but all sat staring at me like as many sheep. And while they were still staring, I broke out again, “And now, Mr. Silver,” I said, “I believe you’re the best man here, and if things go to the worst, I’ll take it kind of you to let the doctor know the way I took it.”
This is not all relevant, I just love it. The boy has three priorities in the face of death: 1) die well, 2) gloat first!!, and 3) “let the doctor know the way I took it.” That’s his last request!
They don’t kill him, of course, and as part of the current treaty the doctor shows up a little later to treat the pirates’ wounded.
And the doctor it was. Although I was glad to hear the sound, yet my gladness was not without admixture. I remembered with confusion my insubordinate and stealthy conduct, and when I saw where it had brought me—among what companions and surrounded by what dangers—I felt ashamed to look him in the face.
OOPS.
Long John Silver also wastes no time in gloating, although this is “haha we have your kid!” psychological warfare instead.
“We’ve quite a surprise for you too, sir,” he continued. “We’ve a little stranger here—he! he! A noo boarder and lodger, sir, and looking fit and taut as a fiddle; slep’ like a supercargo, he did, right alongside of John—stem to stem we was, all night.”
Dr. Livesey was by this time across the stockade and pretty near the cook, and I could hear the alteration in his voice as he said, “Not Jim?”
“The very same Jim as ever was,” says Silver.
The doctor stopped outright, although he did not speak, and it was some seconds before he seemed able to move on.
“Well, well,” he said at last, “duty first and pleasure afterwards, as you might have said yourself, Silver. Let us overhaul these patients of yours.”
This is followed by maybe one of the best passages in this book. Maybe the emotional high point. I don’t know.
“So, Jim,” said the doctor sadly, “here you are. As you have brewed, so shall you drink, my boy. Heaven knows, I cannot find it in my heart to blame you, but this much I will say, be it kind or unkind: when Captain Smollett was well, you dared not have gone off; and when he was ill and couldn’t help it, by George, it was downright cowardly!”
I will own that I here began to weep. “Doctor,” I said, “you might spare me. I have blamed myself enough; my life’s forfeit anyway, and I should have been dead by now if Silver hadn’t stood for me; and doctor, believe this, I can die—and I dare say I deserve it—but what I fear is torture. If they come to torture me—”
“Jim,” the doctor interrupted, and his voice was quite changed, “Jim, I can’t have this. Whip over, and we’ll run for it.”
“Doctor,” said I, “I passed my word.”
“I know, I know,” he cried. “We can’t help that, Jim, now. I’ll take it on my shoulders, holus bolus, blame and shame, my boy; but stay here, I cannot let you. Jump! One jump, and you’re out, and we’ll run for it like antelopes.”
“No,” I replied; “you know right well you wouldn’t do the thing yourself—neither you nor squire nor captain; and no more will I. Silver trusted me; I passed my word, and back I go. But, doctor, you did not let me finish. If they come to torture me, I might let slip a word of where the ship is, for I got the ship, part by luck and part by risking, and she lies in North Inlet, on the southern beach, and just below high water. At half tide she must be high and dry.”
“The ship!” exclaimed the doctor.
Him CRYING when he gets rebuked. (It’s been a long few days.) The doctor’s instant change of tone. Him trying to say “I’ll take the guilt for you, just come on” and Jim saying “that’s not how honor works and you KNOW it!” Jim adding on “anyway what I was TRYING to say is that I need to tell you something important before they potentially torture it out of me. Which is a chance I’ll just have to live with.”
Finally, they do get Jim back, and the doctor is able to talk at more length about their treaty with the pirates and the arrangements that were upset by Jim’s resurfacing:
“As for you, Jim,” he said, “it went against my heart, but I did what I thought best for those who had stood by their duty; and if you were not one of these, whose fault was it?”
“Ah,” said Silver, “it were fortunate for me that I had Hawkins here. You would have let old John be cut to bits, and never given it a thought, doctor.”
That morning, finding that I was to be involved in the horrid disappointment he had prepared for the mutineers, he had run all the way to the cave, and leaving the squire to guard the captain, had taken Gray and the maroon and started, making the diagonal across the island to be at hand beside the pine. ( . . . )
“Not a thought,” replied Dr. Livesey cheerily.
(Literally the only reason Long John Silver is alive is that he was able to hitch a ride on Jim’s rescue, and he knows that.)
Anyway, Jim doesn’t tell us what he or Dr. Livesey did after getting home, but I imagine the doctor kept an eye on him, helped him invest his pirate gold wisely, probably steered him toward a university education eventually, etc.
In conclusion: Much as I love certain adaptational Long John Silvers, Dr. Livesey is the Original Treasure Island Father-Figure, and our fave one-legged pirate could never.
I respect that every Treasure Island adaptation has looked at the source material and said “the relationship between Jim Hawkins and Long John Silver is the emotional core of this story,” and they’re probably right, but also in the original the closest thing Jim has to a father figure on the ship is Doctor Livesey.
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iwillsendapostcard · 8 years ago
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The Poisoned Chalice
Read on AO3 here.
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] 
Summary: There is a plot to poison Prince Robert and it is up to his manservant, Aaron, to save him.
Day Four- Hurt/Comfort + “I’ll keep you warm.”
Aaron knows the road well, having travelled it many times before. It was his route into the kingdom, all those years ago, when his father had kicked him out and sent him to learn a trade with his mother’s family. While he had never gone back north to the lands that held the Livesey name he had been up and down this road many times with Robert on his ridiculous hunting trips. Aaron had always hated the excursions: hated the way that the Prince would always try to show off and would nearly always have something smart or sarcastic to say whenever Aaron made a genuine attempt at conversation.
Robert always looked so elegant. He held himself with the air of someone who knew that the world would always be placed at his feet if he thought to ask for it. He rarely lost his temper, always preferring to make someone suffer for any slight against him later and in more devastating ways than a simple punch to the face. He was so unlike Aaron in every respect.
Aaron wouldn’t have ever described himself as clumsy, but somehow, he always managed to find some way of tripping or stumbling or falling whenever Prince Robert was around. From their first meeting, where he had literally walked into the Prince as he was carrying a bushel of apples to the kitchens, to the incident which had resulted in him saving the prince’s life (a total accident, not that anyone would believe him) there was a frustratingly high chance that whenever Robert was in the room, Aaron would find some way of embarrassing himself.
Most of the time it was all harmless enough; Robert would laugh at him, Aaron would pick himself back up off the floor with some retort of ‘you were in the way!’ and the incident would be forgotten. Unfortunately, once or twice an incident like this had been witnessed by the court or worse by the King, and Aaron had ended up in the stocks for the afternoon as punishment for his clumsiness and insolence. It was worth it though; Robert would always be extra nice to him when Aaron made it back to his chambers and would often be waiting for him with a flagon of ale and a warm cloth to wipe the rotten fruit from his hair.
There was, however, one incident where Aaron’s inability to stay on his feet around Robert got him into some very serious trouble. They had been out on one of their hunting trips. Robert had been teasing him the whole time about how terrible a hunter he was. Aaron had reported that his method of hunting- setting traps and snares- was far more effective than the Prince’s method of shooting big game with his bow and arrow. To prove himself, Aaron had tried Robert’s methods and had soon spied a roe deer deep in the forest.
The winter had been hard, and while everyone who lived and worked in the castle had been well taken care of Aaron was acutely aware of the fact that their food stores would eventually begin to run low. Aaron knew that killing this deer would earn both Robert’s respect and the gratitude of the cooks.
Aaron took aim and let the arrow fly. Its path was true and yet somehow the deer had moved before the arrow could strike. Though he had been aiming for a clean kill with the arrow through her neck the arrow had instead struck her on the rump, allowing her to limp away. Rob, who had been watching him the whole time simply said “well, go after her,” and so Aaron had taken off, hoping that she would slow down and let him finish the job.
He caught sight of her quickly and was after her in an instant, chasing her across the forest while Robert followed behind. She pulled away from him as they reached a clearing and Aaron reached for his bow to take a shot again, sure that this time his aim would be true.
He only just heard Robert’s cry of warning before he realised that the clearing was, in fact, a frozen lake and that the ice was cracking under him.
There was no time to move; one moment the ice was solid beneath him and the next he was plunged into the dark and icy waters.
Aaron had barely registered what was happening before a strong pair of arms had gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him out of the water and back into the light, the Prince’s worried face taking up Aaron’s entire field of vision. Robert and Aaron lay there together on top of the ice both panting their breath casting great clouds of steam into the cold air.
“Thanks,” Aaron was eventually able to mutter.
“No problem,” Robert replied, his own voice rough with exertion despite the fact that he wasn’t the one who had ended up in the water.
They lay there in silence for a few moments longer, Aaron’s wet clothes clinging to him, the cold of the water beginning to seep into his bones. His teeth were chattering.
Robert suddenly sprang into action.
“You’re cold,” he said. Fortunately for him, Aaron was in too much shock to saucily retort that Robert was stating the obvious. “We need to get you out of these clothes.”
“Buy me a drink first…” Aaron was able to joke. Knowing that Robert was there to take care of him was incredibly relaxing, Aaron realised. Maybe he could rest his eyes just for a moment.
“Oh no, you don’t,” Robert said, gently slapping Aaron’s face and causing him to open his eyes again. “My guards will have noticed that we’re missing by now and they will have already started to look for us. When we get back to the castle I’ll give you the rest of the day off to eat hot soup and sleep. But you have to stay awake until then. Can you do that?”
Aaron pouted but nodded his head.
Robert helped him limp to the shore of the lake and began fussing around with their things. He lifted the hem of Aaron’s shirt and encouraged him to raise his arms so that he could pull it all the way over his head. It was a strange reversal of their roles, but Aaron’s brain was too sluggish with cold and shock to think of some witty remark about it. He was aware enough, however, to be surprised that the Prince wasn’t offering up a comment of his own. Instead, he seemed too concerned, too worried, to find the humour in the situation. It was strange.
What was stranger still was when Robert reached up and removed his own shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“Body heat,” Robert explained. “The quickest way to warm you up is skin on skin contact.”
Robert had already pulled a blanket from the kit that they had travelled with and laid it on the ground.
“Lie down,” he directed. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Aaron knew that he was in no position to argue so he lay where Rob gestured and tried not to flinch when the Prince lay down behind him and wrapped his naked arms around him. Robert’s body was hot like fire and he quickly felt the heat of the Prince’s body seep into his skin, the Prince’s heartbeat echoing within his chest.
Now, Aaron stops at the lake as he passes it on his journey. The water is unfrozen and clear now but little else has changed. Aaron can pinpoint exactly the spot where he lay semi-naked in his Prince’s arms. The time had passed slowly and Robert had talked the whole time always asking questions and pressing for responses. Aaron might have had a go at him for being irritating but he knew that what Robert was doing his best to keep him awake.
They had spoken of everything and nothing as Aaron shivered against him and Robert did his best to keep him comfortable. And afterwards, their relationship had never been the same again.
Afterwards, he could not pass this lake without thinking of the way Robert had saved him with no regard for his own life, just as he had with the poison. Afterwards, he could not hear Robert’s sarcastic tone without also hearing the echo of softly whispered questions that had no purpose other than keeping him alive. Afterwards, he could not touch the skin of the man he was bound to serve without thinking too of what they had sacrificed for each other.
Afterwards, he knew without a doubt that he loved Prince Robert with his whole heart.
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sconesteaandmysteries · 8 years ago
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Ad Meliora, Chapter Three
Next chapter. If all goes well, I’ll have another one later this week. Also, this one turned out to be a longer chapter. 
Chapter One, Chapter Two
Summary: Father Brown works to uncover the reasons for Sid’s behavior....
Chapter Three: The Promise, part 3
Unfortunately, Father Brown’s concerns turned out to be prophetic.
At first, things went smoothly as he worked to make a home for Sid. Using the documents Arthur had left, Brown had been able to work out a custodial arrangement with the local authorities so Sid could live in the presbytery and so he would be responsible for him. A doctor confirmed that Sid was in good health and that his injuries were healing as they should with the bandages coming off a couple of days later.
Mrs. McCarthy had used the money Arthur gave them to buy additional clothes, shoes and toiletries for Sid and to get a gently used daybed and a dresser. She even managed to find a couple of men from the parish who were willing to help put the new furniture into the room next to Father Brown’s and arrange the boxes so that Sid would have plenty of room to play in there.
Meanwhile, Father Brown dipped into his own spending money to buy some books and toys that seemed appropriate for a child Sid’s age. He wasn’t able to get much, but he did hope that it was enough to keep Sid entertained during his free time.
Everything involved with getting Sid moved into the presbytery had gone well enough. The only problem seemed to be Sid himself.
It started out with small things. Sid not answering questions when asked or putting off doing a chore he’d been asked to do until he had been reminded more than once about it. Soon, these small things increased in number. Sometimes, Sid would disappear when he was supposed to be at school or the presbytery. He would sneak out at night or not come home until well after he was supposed to be in bed.
Almost two weeks after Sid began living at the presbytery, Father Brown found himself contemplating these difficulties one afternoon in his office. So far, none of this was anything he couldn’t handle with a few firm words and perhaps an extra chore as a teaching moment. However, he had a feeling that things would continue to escalate until he got to the root of what was making Sid rebel.
Father Brown leaned back in his chair. He remembered Arthur’s words again and was certain that he had seen his own evidence that Sid was a good child at heart. Having spent a large portion of his lifetime dealing with people who had all sorts of moral character, Brown had developed an intuition for such things. It was just a matter of bringing this essential aspect of Sid’s nature to the forefront.
“Sidney! Sidney Carter, you get back here and finish cleaning the kitchen.”
The sound of a door slamming told Father Brown that Mrs. McCarthy had failed again to get Sid to mind her. It wasn’t long before she came into his office to inform him of that fact.
“I know he’s been through a rough time, Father, but that is no excuse for the way he has been acting,” she told him. “Just yesterday, I told him that he needed to clear the table after he was finished with his lunch. And do you know what he told me? He said that I couldn’t make him because I’m not his mother. And that he was glad that I wasn’t.”
“I don’t think he meant for it to offend you,” Father Brown said quietly. “I’m sure it was said out of hurt feelings. It can’t be easy for him to move on from whatever his home life used to be. Also, I’ve noticed that he is having problems sleeping.”
“Not surprising considering how he refuses to go to his room when he’s supposed to,” McCarthy replied.
“No, it goes beyond that,” Brown said, his brow furrowing. “There have been a couple of times at night when I have heard him from my room. I imagine bad memories might be haunting his nighttime hours. That can’t make it easy to be pleasant during the day.” Father Brown leaned forward in his chair and looked up at her with a grave expression.
“There is something else going on here,” he said. “I believe that there is something that Sid isn’t telling us. Some secret hardship that he refuses to share.”
“Perhaps,” McCarthy sighed. “But things can’t continue on this way. And you know it. Sidney is testing you, Father. And he’s not just testing your patience either. He is testing your authority.”
“You’re right,” Father Brown nodded.  “I promise that I shall try harder to address these problems and make my position clear to him.”
“Father…are you sure about all this?” McCarthy said, her tone becoming gentler. “I know you want to help Sidney, but…well, there are no guarantees that things will get any easier, are there?”
“I suppose not,” Brown replied. “Then again, God does not always lead us to the paths of least resistance. Sometimes, we need to persevere for greater causes.”
Mrs. McCarthy let out a long sigh and shook her head at him. Father Brown recognized the look on her face. She tended to get it when she was concerned that he was getting in over his head. Or when she was worried that he could get hurt. Sometimes it was combination of the two. Right now, he suspected that the last option was what he saw on her face.
“I think we can agree that Sid is worth the effort,” he told her with a smile. “And with God’s help, our efforts will bear fruit.”
Mrs. McCarthy gave a weak smile back and nodded. He was glad that Mrs. McCarthy agreed with him. He just hoped that the rewards for their efforts would come sooner rather than later.
That night, Father Brown had managed to get Sid to go to bed without much argument. Once he had changed into his own pajamas and robe, he went into Sid’s room, a book in his hands.
“What is it, Father?” Sid asked. Father Brown pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed.
“I noticed that you haven’t been sleeping very well,” Brown answered. “And I thought I could try something that might help.” He held up the book he had brought with him. “It’s called Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. And it was a favorite of mine when I was a boy.”
“What? You want me to read a book until I fall asleep?” Sid asked.
“No, no,” Brown said. “I’m going to read it to you. Until you’re ready to go to sleep, of course.”
“Read it to me?” Sid echoed. “I’m not a little kid.”
“No, of course not,” Brown replied. “I just thought something relaxing before going to sleep might help you rest better. How about it? Shall we give it a try?”
Sid shrugged and laid down. “If you want, Father.”
Father Brown ignored the less than enthusiastic tone in Sid’s voice and opened the book to read.
“’Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17__ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof.’”
Father Brown smiled as he read. It had been decades since he had spent time with this story and reading it aloud brought back many childhood memories. He glanced over to see that Sid was at least pretending to listen even if he wasn’t completely attentive. He continued to read until he noticed that Sid’s eyes seemed to be growing heavy.
“I think that is enough for tonight,” he said once he finished the second chapter. “We’ll continue tomorrow, if you’d like.”
“If you say so,” Sid yawned. He rolled over so he was facing the back of his daybed. Father Brown stood up and put the chair aside before making sure to tuck Sid in.
“Good night, Sid,” he said. He placed a hand on Sid’s shoulder and said a quick nighttime prayer before turning off the light and leaving the room.
Over the next three days, Father Brown made sure to keep a close eye on Sid.
He assigned Sid chores himself and would monitor him while Sid completed his work. Only after he was satisfied that Sid was finished would Brown allow him to go off to do his own activities. He walked Sid to school in the mornings and would show up when school was finished for the day to ask Sid about what he had learned. At night, he continued to read a chapter or two from Treasure Island until Sid looked drowsy enough to sleep.
All of this was time consuming and some of it was a bit tedious, but it did seem to reduce the incidents of defiance and misbehaving even if it did not eliminate them altogether. However, it did have the unfortunate side effect of taking him away from his normal parish duties. Thus, Father Brown realized that he wouldn’t be able to be so watchful on a permanent basis. Plus, he imagined that Sid would eventually chafe under the constant supervision.
The moment Mrs. McCarthy had warned him about finally arrived on the fourth day of this when he walked Sid back to the presbytery after school and told him to finish his homework before he could go outside.
“I’ll do it later,” Sid said, starting toward the door.
“No, you will do it now and then you can go play,” Brown responded. Sid rolled his eyes and continued to walk toward the door.
“Sidney!” Brown said, his voice stern and slightly raised. “Sit down.”
Sid finally paused in his movements. He stared at Father Brown for a moment, as if contemplating what he should do. Then he slowly walked over and sat down at the kitchen table. Brown walked over and sat Sid’s books down in front of him.
“Sid, having responsibilities is part of daily life,” he continued. “And while you are here, you will have responsibilities to yourself and to this house. And I will expect you to carry out those responsibilities and to obey the rules I have set for you. Is that understood?”
Sid glared at him, but silently nodded. Father Brown backed away from the table and started to walk out of the room.
“I’ll leave you to your work,” he said. “When you are finished, you will bring it to me and I will look it over. Then, you will be excused.”
After that Father Brown walked toward his office. He could hear the sound of books being slammed onto the table, but he did not dwell on it. He expected Sid to be angry and decided that it was best to let that work itself out on its own. For now, he would get back to the normal work of the church that he had been neglecting.
The rest of the evening was a tense one. Sid did finish his homework and chores, but he also refused to speak to Father Brown for the rest of the day. When Brown came into his room to read to him like normal, Sid rolled over and pretended to already be asleep.
“All right, perhaps we should skip reading tonight and try again tomorrow,” Brown murmured.
He could feel Sid tense up when he tucked him in and said a prayer over him as usual. Still, Father Brown tried to not let this bother him. He had anticipated the possibility that Sid would resent his efforts to discipline him and focused on his original intent of taking care of Sid as best he could as opposed to being overly concerned if Sid liked him or not.
Although, he did still hold out hope that Sid would at least eventually learn to be happy again even if they were not meant to get along personally.
The next morning, Father Brown was able to work uninterrupted in his office and then meet with two different committees who were involved with fundraising for the church and various other charities connected to it.
Meanwhile, Sid had finished his chores early with the same sullen demeanor he had had yesterday. Brown was disappointed, but did not comment on it as Sid was still minding both him and Mrs. McCarthy. After that, Sid disappeared outside and Father Brown did not expect to see him before dinnertime.
“Here’s your mail, Father,” Mrs. McCarthy said, laying some letters onto his desk.
Father Brown glanced at the envelopes and sorted through them until one in particular caught his eye. Curious, he opened that one first and scanned it. As he did, his face fell and he took off his glasses.
“Father? Father, what is it?” McCarthy said, concerned as his expression grew increasingly saddened. He finally looked up at her with slightly red eyes.
“It’s a letter from Arthur Burton’s sister,” he said quietly. “She received a notification from the police in London a few days ago….Arthur is dead.”
Mrs. McCarthy let out a gasp and sat down in a chair across from him. Father Brown took a short breath, trying to maintain his composure.
“There was a fire,” he continued. “One of the bombs had ignited a gas line and had destroyed several houses. Arthur was trying to help the firemen get some people out of one of the homes, but the fire got out of control. He… he wasn’t able to get out in time.”
“Oh Father,” McCarthy said. “I am so sorry. I know he was a friend.”
“Yes he was,” Brown said softly. “A very dear friend.”
“I’m sure he is with God now,” McCarthy nodded. “I’ll be sure to say a prayer for the family.”
“Thank you,” Brown said. “That is very kind.”
He was about to say something else when he happened to catch movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked around Mrs. McCarthy to see Sid just outside his door, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with shock. Sid stayed that way for only a few seconds more before dashing away.
“Sid!” Father Brown said, leaping to his feet and taking off after him. He followed the sound of Sid’s footsteps out the door and into the graveyard next to the church. It wasn’t long before he found Sid sitting along the church wall, gasping.
“Sid….”
“Go away!” Sid yelled at him. Father Brown knelt down on the grass beside him.
“Sid, I….”
“It’s not true!” Sid cut in. “What you said about Uncle Arthur….it’s a lie!.”
“I am sorry,” Father Brown said. “But that letter was from his sister so I’m afraid….I’m sorry, I should have remembered that he was a friend to you as well.”
Sid gasped some more, his head drooping down. “You’re sending me away now, aren’t you? ‘Cause Uncle Arthur is gone.”
“No, of course not,” Brown insisted. “Why would you think that?”
“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” Sid shot back as he looked up. “You don’t want me here. You just let me stay here ‘cause he asked you to let me. Nobody’s going to want me. Not when…not when they….”
Sid hiccuped and pressed his hands against his face. “It’s my fault…mum and dad….They wanted to go out, but I didn’t want Mrs. Hoskins watching me. And I kept at it…so they stayed home. And…and that’s why…..”
“Sid,” Father Brown said, reaching over to place his hands on Sid’s shoulders. “That wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known that that would happen.” Sid tried to squirm out of his grip, but Father Brown made sure to hold onto him.
“Sid…Sid, listen to me,” he insisted. “What happened to your parents was not your fault. No one blames you for it. I can assure you that Arthur didn’t. And you should know that Arthur told me that the very last thing your mother said was that she wanted you somewhere where you could be safe and happy. So I am certain that if they could talk to you now, they would tell you that you have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Sid finally stopped trying to get away. Instead he let his head drop while his shoulders started to heave. Father Brown blinked hard, feeling tears of his own rise up in his eyes.
“I miss them,” Sid choked out. “Mum and Dad…why did they die? Why did they leave me alone?”
“I don’t know,” Father Brown said gently. “But what I do know is that they still love you. And that you are not alone because God is right next to you. And He loves you and won’t ever leave you.”
By that point, Sid was unable to contain his tears anymore and started to cry. Father Brown leaned over and embraced him which Sid responded to by throwing his arms around him. His heart still felt heavy over the loss of his friend, but now he also felt grief over the thought that Sid had been carrying such a terrible burden inside him since arriving in Kembleford. He prayed that Sid would let go of his guilt and find some comfort in his words.
They stayed like that for several minutes until Sid finally was able to calm down.
“I’m sorry,” Sid gulped as he pulled away, still wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I got your shirt wet.” Father Brown smiled at him, certain that this was a broader apology than that.
“It’s all right. I forgive you,” he said. “Now, how about we go back inside and….”
“I want to stay,” Sid said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I, I don’t want to go away. I want to stay with you.”
“Sid, I have no intention of sending you away,” Father Brown assured him. “I promise, you will always have a home at the presbytery.”
Sid sniffled a few more times as his tears continued to wind down. He stared at the ground silently for a couple of minutes before finally speaking again.
“Father?”
“What is it?”
“Could you….could you read to me tonight?” Father Brown smiled again and patted Sid’s back.
“Of course,” he said. “After all, I imagine you’re as eager to find out what happens to Jim on the shore as I was when I heard it the first time.”
A small smile appeared on Sid’s face as he let out a short chuckle. Father Brown’s smile grew as he stood up and offered a hand to help Sid up from the ground. Once Sid was on his feet, they walked back together. As they did, Father Brown sensed that a change had just occurred. A change not only in Sid but also in himself.
A change that was sure to continue to unfold in the future.
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feathersandblue · 8 years ago
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A compilation of relevant Treasure Island quotes as pertaining to Captain Flint (the real one, not the parrot)
"Look, Jim, how my fingers fidges," he continued in the pleading tone. "I can't keep 'em still, not I. I haven't had a drop this blessed day. That doctor's a fool, I tell you. If I don't have a drain o' rum, Jim, I'll have the horrors; I seen some on 'em already. I seen old Flint in the corner there, behind you; as plain as print, I seen him; and if I get the horrors, I'm a man that has lived rough, and I'll raise Cain. Your doctor hisself said one glass wouldn't hurt me. I'll give you a golden guinea for a noggin, Jim." 
"Ah! Black Dog," says he. "He's a bad un; but there's worse that put him on. Now, if I can't get away nohow, and they tip me the black spot, mind you, it's my old sea-chest they're after; you get on a horse—you can, can't you? Well, then, you get on a horse, and go to���well, yes, I will!—to that eternal doctor swab, and tell him to pipe all hands—magistrates and sich—and he'll lay 'em aboard at the Admiral Benbow—all old Flint's crew, man and boy, all on 'em that's left. I was first mate, I was, old Flint's first mate, and I'm the on'y one as knows the place. He gave it me at Savannah, when he lay a-dying, like as if I was to now, you see. But you won't peach unless they get the black spot on me, or unless you see that Black Dog again or a seafaring man with one leg, Jim—him above all." 
(Capter III, The Black Spot, spoken by the captain, aka Billy Bones)
For—you would have thought men would have been ashamed of themselves—no soul would consent to return with us to the Admiral Benbow. The more we told of our troubles, the more—man, woman, and child—they clung to the shelter of their houses. The name of Captain Flint, though it was strange to me, was well enough known to some there and carried a great weight of terror.
(Capter IV, The Sea-chest, Jim Hawkins)
"One at a time, one at a time," laughed Dr. Livesey. "You have heard of this Flint, I suppose?"
"Heard of him!" cried the squire. "Heard of him, you say! He was the bloodthirstiest buccaneer that sailed. Blackbeard was a child to Flint. The Spaniards were so prodigiously afraid of him that, I tell you, sir, I was sometimes proud he was an Englishman. I've seen his top-sails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with put back—put back, sir, into Port of Spain."
(Chapter VI, The Captain’s Papers)
O, not I," said Silver. "Flint was cap'n; I was quartermaster, along of my timber leg. The same broadside I lost my leg, old Pew lost his deadlights. It was a master surgeon, him that ampytated me—out of college and all—Latin by the bucket, and what not; but he was hanged like a dog, and sun-dried like the rest, at Corso Castle. That was Roberts' men, that was, and comed of changing names to their ships—Royal Fortune and so on. Now, what a ship was christened, so let her stay, I says. So it was with the Cassandra, as brought us all safe home from Malabar, after England took the viceroy of the Indies; so it was with the old Walrus, Flint's old ship, as I've seen amuck with the red blood and fit to sink with gold."
"Ah!" cried another voice, that of the youngest hand on board, and evidently full of admiration. "He was the flower of the flock, was Flint!"
"Davis was a man too, by all accounts," said Silver. "I never sailed along of him; first with England, then with Flint, that's my story; and now here on my own account, in a manner of speaking. I laid by nine hundred safe, from England, and two thousand after Flint. That ain't bad for a man before the mast—all safe in bank. 'Tain't earning now, it's saving does it, you may lay to that. Where's all England's men now? I dunno. Where's Flint's? Why, most on 'em aboard here, and glad to get the duff—been begging before that, some on 'em.
"Gentlemen of fortune," returned the cook, "usually trusts little among themselves, and right they are, you may lay to it. But I have a way with me, I have. When a mate brings a slip on his cable—one as knows me, I mean—it won't be in the same world with old John. There was some that was feared of Pew, and some that was feared of Flint; but Flint his own self was feared of me. Feared he was, and proud. They was the roughest crew afloat, was Flint's; the devil himself would have been feared to go to sea with them. Well now, I tell you, I'm not a boasting man, and you seen yourself how easy I keep company, but when I was quartermaster, lambs wasn't the word for Flint's old buccaneers. Ah, you may be sure of yourself in old John's ship."
"So?" says Silver. "Well, and where are they now? Pew was that sort, and he died a beggar-man. Flint was, and he died of rum at Savannah. Ah, they was a sweet crew, they was! On'y, where are they?"
(Chapter XI, What I Heard in the Apple Barrel)
"Now, I'll tell you what," he went on. "So much I'll tell you, and no more. I were in Flint's ship when he buried the treasure; he and six along—six strong seamen. They was ashore nigh on a week, and us standing off and on in the old Walrus. One fine day up went the signal, and here come Flint by himself in a little boat, and his head done up in a blue scarf. The sun was getting up, and mortal white he looked about the cutwater. But, there he was, you mind, and the six all dead—dead and buried. How he done it, not a man aboard us could make out. It was battle, murder, and sudden death, leastways—him against six. Billy Bones was the mate; Long John, he was quartermaster; and they asked him where the treasure was. 'Ah,' says he, 'you can go ashore, if you like, and stay,' he says; 'but as for the ship, she'll beat up for more, by thunder!' That's what he said.
(Capter XV, The Man of the Island, Ben Gunn)
"That!" he cried. "Why, in a place like this, where nobody puts in but gen'lemen of fortune, Silver would fly the Jolly Roger, you don't make no doubt of that. No, that's your friends. There's been blows too, and I reckon your friends has had the best of it; and here they are ashore in the old stockade, as was made years and years ago by Flint. Ah, he was the man to have a headpiece, was Flint! Barring rum, his match were never seen. He were afraid of none, not he; on'y Silver—Silver was that genteel."
(Capter XIX, The Garrison in the stockade, Ben Gunn)
"Dead—aye, sure enough he's dead and gone below," said the fellow with the bandage; "but if ever sperrit walked, it would be Flint's. Dear heart, but he died bad, did Flint!"
"Aye, that he did," observed another; "now he raged, and now he hollered for the rum, and now he sang. 'Fifteen Men' were his only song, mates; and I tell you true, I never rightly liked to hear it since. It was main hot, and the windy was open, and I hear that old song comin' out as clear as clear—and the death-haul on the man already."
(Chapter XXXI - Tresure hunt: Flint’s pointer, various pirates))
"I don't feel sharp," growled Morgan. "Thinkin' o' Flint—I think it were—as done me."
"Ah, well, my son, you praise your stars he's dead," said Silver.
"He were an ugly devil," cried a third pirate with a shudder; "that blue in the face too!"
"That was how the rum took him," added Merry. "Blue! Well, I reckon he was blue. That's a true word."
"Darby M'Graw," it wailed—for that is the word that best describes the sound—"Darby M'Graw! Darby M'Graw!" again and again and again; and then rising a little higher, and with an oath that I leave out: "Fetch aft the rum, Darby!"
The buccaneers remained rooted to the ground, their eyes starting from their heads. Long after the voice had died away they still stared in silence, dreadfully, before them.
"That fixes it!" gasped one. "Let's go."
"They was his last words," moaned Morgan, "his last words above board."
Dick had his Bible out and was praying volubly. He had been well brought up, had Dick, before he came to sea and fell among bad companions.
Still Silver was unconquered. I could hear his teeth rattle in his head, but he had not yet surrendered.
"Nobody in this here island ever heard of Darby," he muttered; "not one but us that's here." And then, making a great effort: "Shipmates," he cried, "I'm here to get that stuff, and I'll not be beat by man or devil. I never was feared of Flint in his life, and, by the powers, I'll face him dead. There's seven hundred thousand pound not a quarter of a mile from here. When did ever a gentleman o' fortune show his stern to that much dollars for a boozy old seaman with a blue mug—and him dead too?"
(Chapter 32 - The Voice Among the Trees, Long John Silver and various pirates)
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readbookywooks · 8 years ago
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Mo looked first at him and then at Meggie. She did her best to look unafraid, so that he would think there was no need to worry about her – after all, she had always been a better liar than he was. But this time he saw through the lie. He knew that her fear was as great as the fear she saw in his own eyes. Perhaps all this is just a story too, thought Meggie desperately. And any moment someone will close the book because it’s so horrible and scary, and Mo and I will be back at home and I’ll make him a coffee. She closed her eyes very tight, as if that would make her thoughts come true, but when she peered through her lashes Basta was still standing behind her, and Flatnose was rubbing his squashed nostrils and turning his dog-like gaze on Capricorn. ‘Very well,’ said Mo wearily into the silence. ‘I’ll read aloud to you. But Meggie and Elinor can’t stay in here.’ Meggie knew exactly what he was thinking. He was thinking of her mother, and wondering who might disappear this time. ‘Nonsense. Of course they stay here.’ Capricorn’s voice was no longer careless. ‘And you’d better get started before the book there in your hand falls to dust.’ Mo closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Very well, but tell Basta to put his knife away,’ he said hoarsely. ‘If he hurts a hair of Meggie or Elinor’s heads I promise you I’ll read the Plague out of a book to infect you and your men.’ Cockerell looked at Mo in alarm, and a shadow passed over even Basta’s face, but Capricorn just laughed. ‘Let me remind you, Silvertongue, that you’re speaking of a contagious disease,’ he said. ‘And it doesn’t stop short at little girls. So never mind the empty threats, just start reading. Now. At once. And I want to hear something out of that book first!’ He pointed to the book that Mo had just laid aside. Treasure Island. 18 Treasure Island Squire Trelawney, Dr Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island … I take up my pen in the year of grace 17—, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof. Robert Louis Stevenson, Treasure Island And so Meggie heard her father read aloud, for the first time in nine years, in a draughty old church. Even many, many years later the smell of burnt paper would come back to her as soon as she opened one of the books from which he had read that awful morning. It was chilly in Capricorn’s church – Meggie was to remember that later, too – although the sun must have been hot outside and high in the sky by the time Mo began to read. He simply sat down on the floor where he was, legs crossed, one book on his lap and the others beside him. Meggie quickly knelt down close to him before Basta could catch hold of her. ‘Here, get up these steps, all of you,’ Capricorn told his men. ‘And take the woman with you, Flatnose. Only Basta stays where he is.’ Elinor resisted, but Flatnose merely seized a handful of her hair and hauled her along after him. Capricorn’s men climbed the steps and sat at their master’s feet, Elinor among them like a pigeon with ruffled feathers in the middle of a mob of marauding crows. The only person who looked equally out of place was the thin reader, Darius, who was sitting at the very end of the row of black-clad men and kept fiddling with his glasses. Mo opened the book on his lap and began leafing through it, frowning, as if searching the pages for the gold he was to read out of it for Capricorn. ‘Cockerell, you will cut out the tongue of anyone who utters the slightest sound while Silvertongue is reading,’ said Capricorn, and Cockerell drew a knife from his belt and looked along the row of men as if already selecting his first victim. All was so deathly quiet inside the red church that Meggie thought she could hear Basta breathing behind her. But perhaps it was only the sound of her own fear. Judging by their faces, Capricorn’s men seemed to be feeling far from happy. They were looking at Mo with expressions of apprehension mingled with dislike. Meggie understood that only too well. Perhaps one of them would soon vanish into the book through which Mo was leafing so undecidedly. Had Capricorn told them that such a thing might happen? Did even he know it? What if she herself vanished, as Mo obviously feared? Or Elinor? ‘Meggie!’ Mo whispered to her, as if he had heard her thoughts. ‘Hold on to me tight any way you can.’ Meggie nodded, and clutched his sweater. As if that would be any use! ‘Yes, I think I’ve found the right place,’ said Mo into the silence. He cast a last glance at Capricorn, looked at Elinor, cleared his throat – and began to read. Everything disappeared: the red walls of the church, the faces of Capricorn’s men, Capricorn himself sitting in his chair. There was nothing but Mo’s voice and the pictures forming in their minds from the letters on the page, like the pattern of a carpet taking shape on a loom. If Meggie could have hated Capricorn any more, she would have done so now. It was his fault that Mo had never once read aloud to her in all these years. To think of the magic he could have worked in her room with his voice, a voice that gave a different flavour to every word, made every sentence a melody! Even Cockerell had forgotten his knife and the tongues he was supposed to cut out, and was listening with a faraway expression on his face. Flatnose was staring into space, enraptured, as if a pirate ship with all sails set were truly cruising in through one of the church windows. The other men were equally entranced. There was not a sound to be heard but Mo’s voice bringing the letters and words on the page to life. Only one of his audience seemed immune to the magic of it. Face expressionless, pale eyes fixed on Mo, Capricorn sat there waiting: waiting for the clink of coins amidst the harmony of the words, for chests of damp wood heavy with gold and silver. Mo did not keep him waiting long. It happened as he was reading what Jim Hawkins – a boy not much older than Meggie when he embarked on his terrifying adventure – saw in a dark cave: … Georges, and Louises, doubloons and double guineas and moidores and sequins, the pictures of all the kings of Europe for the last hundred years, strange Oriental pieces stamped with what looked like wisps of string or bits of spider’s web, round pieces and square pieces, and pieces bored through the middle, as if to wear them round your neck – nearly every variety of money in the world must, I think, have found a place in that collection; and for number, I am sure they were like autumn leaves, so that my back ached with stooping and my fingers with sorting them out. The maidservants were cleaning the last crumbs off the tables when coins suddenly came rolling over the bare wood. The women stumbled back, dropping their dish-cloths, and pressing their hands to their mouths as the coins tumbled and leaped about their feet. Gold, silver and copper coins jingled over the flagstone floor, clinking as they gathered in heaps under the benches – more and more and more of them. Some rolled as far as the steps. Capricorn’s men came to life, bent to pick up the glittering little things bouncing off their boots – but then snatched back their hands. None of them dared touch the magic money. For what else could it be? Gold made of paper and printer’s ink – and the sound of a human voice.
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seadragon-sailing · 2 years ago
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The Crew From Guangzhou: Never Forget A Face
Previously
It was getting more, and more difficult for Smollett to take in his surroundings.  The Hispaniola was getting crowded, not just from how many people were engaging in battle on the deck of his ship, but from the bodies stacking up by the minute–Maybe even by the second for all he knew.  It might not have mattered that moment, but Smollett couldn’t help the nagging concern of wanting to know just who the hell barged into this disaster.  He saw not only men, but several women in more combat-convenient ensembles fighting alongside their crew mates, a sight that only further cemented that any chance these were some kind of hired officials was null.  It certainly didn’t go unnoticed by the others, but who were they to argue when those very women stopped a pirate’s cutlass from beheading them or taking a fatal shot from a pistol?
It appeared very clear that they were only targeting Gold Tooth’s crew, and not them... Although, Silver might have been a different story.  While Livesey, Trelawney, Jim, Ben and himself were given more than enough backup, Smollett had completely lost track of Silver.  Little did he know, the ship cook of the Hispaniola was on a mission of his own.  Just like him, Silver wanted answers.
--
Deep down in his gut, Silver couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity fighting alongside the Hispaniola’s new allies.  It was hard for him to think given how busy he was avoiding swinging swords, flying bullets and narrowly missing getting punched, though.  But the second he was able to catch his breath, it was only then he saw a face that he knew he’d seen before.
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That broad, hulking silhouette; the head of ash gray hair; and that everlasting stoney expression that could suck the warmth out of a whole room…
“Feng Ippuki… I should have known,” Silver smirked once all the dots connected, letting out a low chuckle.
It was short-lived, however, when he realized that the other captain was charging in his direction with his Dao sword drawn at a speed far faster than any old man he’s met.  Out of reflex, Silver flinched with his switchblade ready to counterattack, bracing himself to take on a far greater adversary than Gold Tooth–
“Behind you!” Feng barked in a kurt, gravelly tone, rushing straight past the ship cook in order to block an incoming sword strike from the pirate in question.
“Ippuki, you two-faced rat!  What the hell are you doing?!  This is against pirate code!” Gold Tooth protested, jaw clenched as he fought to hold his blade strong against the other’s.
“Pēi!” Captain Ippuki spat.  Using a mere fraction of his brute strength, Feng gave the other a harsh shove, sending him stumbling back and falling flat on his ass. “You know, I originally thought that my crew would be having it out with Silver’s men from everything that I heard, but it looks like fate had other plans.”
“I’ve had enough of all this.  You’re not winning this fight!  I may be done with the pirate life, but that won’t stop me from cutting down any swine who tries to stop this schooner from reaching Bristol,” Silver swore, his knife clenched tightly in his fist as both he and Feng loomed over their now-common enemy.
The third pirate captain gaped in complete disbelief at the duo, eyes darting between them utterly baffled into silence.  That is, until a devilish smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and he let out a low, dark chuckle.
“You really think they’ll actually keep their word to save you from the noose, Silver?  The only way you’re getting out of being sentenced to hanging—” Gold Tooth mocked, finally getting back up onto his feet, “Will be by dying here at sea, skewered at the end of my cutlass!”
Suddenly, Gold Tooth charged forward, sword drawn and loaded pistol cocked.  A shot was fired at Feng, the bullet grazing his side and creating a shallow wound, yet the elder caught himself before he could falter from the burning pain in his side.  It was purely a distraction, though, only meant to get Feng out of the way long enough for the pirate captain to launch himself at Silver with his sword swinging and full of the intent on dismembering the other.  Alas, his plan was for not, as the pirate only got a few teeth knocked out from Silver bashing him in the cheek with his crutch.  Gold Tooth’s strategy may have failed, but once he regained his balance, he would see that he was greatly successful in pissing off two very dangerous adversaries that mutually became hellbent on scattering his guts all over the Hispaniola.
“We’ll talk about this later, Silver.  Here, don’t make me regret lending you that,” Feng grumbled to his unlikely ally, swiftly tossing a spare sword to him without taking his ever-scowling eyes off of Gold Tooth.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Ippuki,” Silver agreed coolly, ditching his switchblade in favor of the borrowed weapon.
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readbookywooks · 8 years ago
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SQUIRE TRELAWNEY, Dr. Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17__ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof. I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow - a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown man, his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulder of his soiled blue coat, his hands ragged and scarred, with black, broken nails, and the sabre cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid white. I remember him looking round the cover and whistling to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards: "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest - Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!" in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars. Then he rapped on the door with a bit of stick like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared, called roughly for a glass of rum. This, when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste and still looking about him at the cliffs and up at our signboard. "This is a handy cove," says he at length; "and a pleasant sittyated grog-shop. Much company, mate?" My father told him no, very little company, the more was the pity. "Well, then," said he, "this is the berth for me. Here you, matey," he cried to the man who trundled the barrow; "bring up alongside and help up my chest. I'll stay here a bit," he continued. "I'm a plain man; rum and bacon and eggs is what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I see what you're at-there"; and he threw down three or four gold pieces on the threshold. "You can tell me when I've worked through that," says he, looking as fierce as a commander. And indeed bad as his clothes were and coarsely as he spoke, he had none of the appearance of a man who sailed before the mast, but seemed like a mate or skipper accustomed to be obeyed or to strike. The man who came with the barrow told us the mail had set him down the morning before at the Royal George, that he had inquired what inns there were along the coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and described as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place of residence. And that was all we could learn of our guest. He was a very silent man by custom. All day he hung round the cove or upon the cliffs with a brass telescope; all evening he sat in a corner of the parlour next the fire and drank rum and water very strong. Mostly he would not speak when spoken to, only look up sudden and fierce and blow through his nose like a fog-horn; and we and the people who came about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day when he came back from his stroll he would ask if any seafaring men had gone by along the road. At first we thought it was the want of company of his own kind that made him ask this question, but at last we began to see he was desirous to avoid them. When a seaman did put up at the Admiral Benbow (as now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol) he would look in at him through the curtained door before he entered the parlour; and he was always sure to be as silent as a mouse when any such was present. For me, at least, there was no secret about the matter, for I was, in a way, a sharer in his alarms. He had taken me aside one day and promised me a silver fourpenny on the first of every month if I would only keep my "weather-eye open for a seafaring man with one leg" and let him know the moment he appeared. Often enough when the first of the month came round and I applied to him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at me and stare me down, but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it, bring me my four-penny piece, and repeat his orders to look out for "the seafaring man with one leg." How that personage haunted my dreams, I need scarcely tell you. On stormy nights, when the wind shook the four corners of the house and the surf roared along the cove and up the cliffs, I would see him in a thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical expressions. Now the leg would be cut off at the knee, now at the hip; now he was a monstrous kind of a creature who had never had but the one leg, and that in the middle of his body. To see him leap and run and pursue me over hedge and ditch was the worst of nightmares. And altogether I paid pretty dear for my monthly fourpenny piece, in the shape of these abominable fancies. But though I was so terrified by the idea of the seafaring man with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than anybody else who knew him. There were nights when he took a deal more rum and water than his head would carry; and then he would sometimes sit and sing his wicked, old, wild sea-songs, minding nobody; but sometimes he would call for glasses round and force all the trembling company to listen to his stories or bear a chorus to his singing. Often I have heard the house shaking with "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum," all the neighbours joining in for dear life, with the fear of death upon them, and each singing louder than the other to avoid remark. For in these fits he was the most overriding companion ever known; he would slap his hand on the table for silence all round; he would fly up in a passion of anger at a question, or sometimes because none was put, and so he judged the company was not following his story. Nor would he allow anyone to leave the inn till he had drunk himself sleepy and reeled off to bed. His stories were what frightened people worst of all. Dreadful stories they were - about hanging, and walking the plank, and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds and places on the Spanish Main. By his own account he must have lived his life among some of the wickedest men that God ever allowed upon the sea, and the language in which he told these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much as the crimes that he described. My father was always saying the inn would be ruined, for people would soon cease coming there to be tyrannized over and put down, and sent shivering to their beds; but I really believe his presence did us good. People were frightened at the time, but on looking back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country life, and there was even a party of the younger men who pretended to admire him, calling him a "true sea-dog" and a "real old salt" and such like names, and saying there was the sort of man that made England terrible at sea. In one way, indeed, he bade fair to ruin us, for he kept on staying week after week, and at last month after month, so that all the money had been long exhausted, and still my father never plucked up the heart to insist on having more. If ever he mentioned it, the captain blew through his nose so loudly that you might say he roared, and stared my poor father out of the room. I have seen him wringing his hands after such a rebuff, and I am sure the annoyance and the terror he lived in must have greatly hastened his early and unhappy death. All the time he lived with us the captain made no change whatever in his dress but to buy some stockings from a hawker. One of the cocks of his hat having fallen down, he let it hang from that day forth, though it was a great annoyance when it blew. I remember the appearance of his coat, which he patched himself upstairs in his room, and which, before the end, was nothing but patches. He never wrote or received a letter, and he never spoke with any but the neighbours, and with these, for the most part, only when drunk on rum. The great sea-chest none of us had ever seen open. He was only once crossed, and that was towards the end, when my poor father was far gone in a decline that took him off. Dr. Livesey came late one afternoon to see the patient, took a bit of dinner from my mother, and went into the parlour to smoke a pipe until his horse should come down from the hamlet, for we had no stabling at the old Benbow. I followed him in, and I remember observing the contrast the neat, bright doctor, with his powder as white as snow and his bright, black eyes and pleasant manners, made with the coltish country folk, and above all, with that filthy, heavy, bleared scarecrow of a pirate of ours, sitting, far gone in rum, with his arms on the table. Suddenly he - the captain, that is - began to pipe up his eternal song: "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest - Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for the rest - Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!" At first I had supposed "the dead man's chest" to be that identical big box of his upstairs in the front room, and the thought had been mingled in my nightmares with that of the one-legged seafaring man. But by this time we had all long ceased to pay any particular notice to the song; it was new, that night, to nobody but Dr. Livesey, and on him I observed it did not produce an agreeable effect, for he looked up for a moment quite angrily before he went on with his talk to old Taylor, the gardener, on a new cure for the rheumatics. In the meantime, the captain gradually brightened up at his own music, and at last flapped his hand upon the table before him in a way we all knew to mean silence. The voices stopped at once, all but Dr. Livesey's; he went on as before speaking clear and kind and drawing briskly at his pipe between every word or two. The captain glared at him for a while, flapped his hand again, glared still harder, and at last broke out with a villainous, low oath, "Silence, there, between decks!" "Were you addressing me, sir?" says the doctor; and when the ruffian had told him, with another oath, that this was so, "I have only one thing to say to you, sir," replies the doctor, "that if you keep on drinking rum, the world will soon be quit of a very dirty scoundrel!" The old fellow's fury was awful. He sprang to his feet, drew and opened a sailor's clasp-knife, and balancing it open on the palm of his hand, threatened to pin the doctor to the wall. The doctor never so much as moved. He spoke to him as before, over his shoulder and in the same tone of voice, rather high, so that all the room might hear, but perfectly calm and steady: "If you do not put that knife this instant in your pocket, I promise, upon my honour, you shall hang at the next assizes." Then followed a battle of looks between them, but the captain soon knuckled under, put up his weapon, and resumed his seat, grumbling like a beaten dog. "And now, sir," continued the doctor, "since I now know there's such a fellow in my district, you may count I'll have an eye upon you day and night. I'm not a doctor only; I'm a magistrate; and if I catch a breath of complaint against you, if it's only for a piece of incivility like tonight's, I'll take effectual means to have you hunted down and routed out of this. Let that suffice." Soon after, Dr. Livesey's horse came to the door and he rode away, but the captain held his peace that evening, and for many evenings to come.
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readbookywooks · 8 years ago
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WHEN I had done breakfasting the squire gave me a note addressed to John Silver, at the sign of the Spy-glass, and told me I should easily find the place by following the line of the docks and keeping a bright lookout for a little tavern with a large brass telescope for sign. I set off, overjoyed at this opportunity to see some more of the ships and seamen, and picked my way among a great crowd of people and carts and bales, for the dock was now at its busiest, until I found the tavern in question. It was a bright enough little place of entertainment. The sign was newly painted; the windows had neat red curtains; the floor was cleanly sanded. There was a street on each side and an open door on both, which made the large, low room pretty clear to see in, in spite of clouds of tobacco smoke. The customers were mostly seafaring men, and they talked so loudly that I hung at the door, almost afraid to enter. As I was waiting, a man came out of a side room, and at a glance I was sure he must be Long John. His left leg was cut off close by the hip, and under the left shoulder he carried a crutch, which he managed with wonderful dexterity, hopping about upon it like a bird. He was very tall and strong, with a face as big as a ham - plain and pale, but intelligent and smiling. Indeed, he seemed in the most cheerful spirits, whistling as he moved about among the tables, with a merry word or a slap on the shoulder for the more favoured of his guests. Now, to tell you the truth, from the very first mention of Long John in Squire Trelawney's letter I had taken a fear in my mind that he might prove to be the very onelegged sailor whom I had watched for so long at the old Benbow. But one look at the man before me was enough. I had seen the captain, and Black Dog, and the blind man, Pew, and I thought I knew what a buccaneer was like - a very different creature, according to me, from this clean and pleasant-tempered landlord. I plucked up courage at once, crossed the threshold, and walked right up to the man where he stood, propped on his crutch, talking to a customer. "Mr. Silver, sir?" I asked, holding out the note. "Yes, my lad," said he; "such is my name, to be sure. And who may you be?" And then as he saw the squire's letter, he seemed to me to give something almost like a start. "Oh!" said he, quite loud, and offering his hand. "I see. You are our new cabin-boy; pleased I am to see you." And he took my hand in his large firm grasp. Just then one of the customers at the far side rose suddenly and made for the door. It was close by him, and he was out in the street in a moment. But his hurry had attracted my notice, and I recognized him at glance. It was the tallow-faced man, wanting two fingers, who had come first to the Admiral Benbow. "Oh," I cried, "stop him! It's Black Dog!" "I don't care two coppers who he is," cried Silver. "But he hasn't paid his score. Harry, run and catch him." One of the others who was nearest the door leaped up and started in pursuit. "If he were Admiral Hawke he shall pay his score," cried Silver; and then, relinquishing my hand, "Who did you say he was?" he asked. "Black what?" "Dog, sir," said I. Has Mr. Trelawney not told you of the buccaneers? He was one of them." "So?" cried Silver. "In my house! Ben, run and help Harry. One of those swabs, was he? Was that you drinking with him, Morgan? Step up here." The man whom he called Morgan - an old, grey-haired, mahogany-faced sailor - came forward pretty sheepishly, rolling his quid. "Now, Morgan," said Long John very sternly, "you never clapped your eyes on that Black - Black Dog before, did you, now?" "Not I, sir," said Morgan with a salute. "You didn't know his name, did you?" "No, sir." "By the powers, Tom Morgan, it's as good for you!" exclaimed the landlord. "If you had been mixed up with the like of that, you would never have put another foot in my house, you may lay to that. And what was he saying to you?" "I don't rightly know, sir," answered Morgan. "Do you call that a head on your shoulders, or a blessed dead-eye?" cried Long John. "Don't rightly know, don't you! Perhaps you don't happen to rightly know who you was speaking to, perhaps? Come, now, what was he jawing - v'yages, cap'ns, ships? Pipe up! What was it?" "We was a-talkin' of keel-hauling," answered Morgan. "Keel-hauling, was you? And a mighty suitable thing, too, and you may lay to that. Get back to your place for a lubber, Tom." And then, as Morgan rolled back to his seat, Silver added to me in a confidential whisper that was very flattering, as I thought, "He's quite an honest man, Tom Morgan, on'y stupid. And now," he ran on again, aloud, "let's see - Black Dog? No, I don't know the name, not I. Yet I kind of think I've - yes, I've seen the swab. He used to come here with a blind beggar, he used." "That he did, you may be sure," said I. "I knew that blind man too. His name was Pew." "It was!" cried Silver, now quite excited. "Pew! That were his name for certain. Ah, he looked a shark, he did! If we run down this Black Dog, now, there'll be news for Cap'n Trelawney! Ben's a good runner; few seamen run better than Ben. He should run him down, hand over hand, by the powers! He talked o' keelhauling, did he? I'LL keel-haul him!" All the time he was jerking out these phrases he was stumping up and down the tavern on his crutch, slapping tables with his hand, and giving such a show of excitement as would have convinced an Old Bailey judge or a Bow Street runner. My suspicions had been thoroughly reawakened on finding Black Dog at the Spyglass, and I watched the cook narrowly. But he was too deep, and too ready, and too clever for me, and by the time the two men had come back out of breath and confessed that they had lost the track in a crowd, and been scolded like thieves, I would have gone bail for the innocence of Long John Silver. "See here, now, Hawkins," said he, "here's a blessed hard thing on a man like me, now, ain't it? There's Cap'n Trelawney - what's he to think? Here I have this confounded son of a Dutchman sitting in my own house drinking of my own rum! Here you comes and tells me of it plain; and here I let him give us all the slip before my blessed deadlights! Now, Hawkins, you do me justice with the cap'n. You're a lad, you are, but you're as smart as paint. I see that when you first come in. Now, here it is: What could I do, with this old timber I hobble on? When I was an A B master mariner I'd have come up alongside of him, hand over hand, and broached him to in a brace of old shakes, I would; but now - " And then, all of a sudden, he stopped, and his jaw dropped as though he had remembered something. "The score!" he burst out. "Three goes o' rum! Why, shiver my timbers, if I hadn't forgotten my score!" And falling on a bench, he laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks. I could not help joining, and we laughed together, peal after peal, until the tavern rang again. "Why, what a precious old sea-calf I am!" he said at last, wiping his cheeks. "You and me should get on well, Hawkins, for I'll take my davy I should be rated ship's boy. But come now, stand by to go about. This won't do. Dooty is dooty, messmates. I'll put on my old cockerel hat, and step along of you to Cap'n Trelawney, and report this here affair. For mind you, it's serious, young Hawkins; and neither you nor me's come out of it with what I should make so bold as to call credit. Nor you neither, says you; not smart-none of the pair of us smart. But dash my buttons! That was a good un about my score." And he began to laugh again, and that so heartily, that though I did not see the joke as he did, I was again obliged to join him in his mirth. On our little walk along the quays, he made himself the most interesting companion, telling me about the different ships that we passed by, their rig, tonnage, and nationality, explaining the work that was going forward - how one was discharging, another taking in cargo, and a third making ready for sea - and every now and then telling me some little anecdote of ships or seamen or repeating a nautical phrase till I had learned it perfectly. I began to see that here was one of the best of possible shipmates. When we got to the inn, the squire and Dr. Livesey were seated together, finishing a quart of ale with a toast in it, before they should go aboard the schooner on a visit of inspection. Long John told the story from first to last, with a great deal of spirit and the most perfect truth. "That was how it were, now, weren't it, Hawkins?" he would say, now and again, and I could always bear him entirely out. The two gentlemen regretted that Black Dog had got away, but we all agreed there was nothing to be done, and after he had been complimented, Long John took up his crutch and departed. "All hands aboard by four this afternoon," shouted the squire after him. "Aye, aye, sir," cried the cook, in the passage. "Well, squire," said Dr. Livesey, "I don't put much faith in your discoveries, as a general thing; but I will say this, John Silver suits me." "The man's a perfect trump," declared the squire. "And now," added the doctor, "Jim may come on board with us, may he not?" "To be sure he may," says squire. "Take your hat, Hawkins, and we'll see the ship."
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THE HISPANIOLA lay some way out, and we went under the figureheads and round the sterns of many other ships, and their cables sometimes grated underneath our keel, and sometimes swung above us. At last, however, we got alongside, and were met and saluted as we stepped aboard by the mate, Mr. Arrow, a brown old sailor with earrings in his ears and a squint. He and the squire were very thick and friendly, but I soon observed that things were not the same between Mr. Trelawney and the captain. This last was a sharp-looking man who seemed angry with everything on board and was soon to tell us why, for we had hardly got down into the cabin when a sailor followed us. "Captain Smollett, sir, axing to speak with you," said he. "I am always at the captain's orders. Show him in," said the squire. The captain, who was close behind his messenger, entered at once and shut the door behind him. "Well, Captain Smollett, what have you to say? All well, I hope; all shipshape and seaworthy?" "Well, sir," said the captain, "better speak plain, I believe, even at the risk of offence. I don't like this cruise; I don't like the men; and I don't like my officer. That's short and sweet." "Perhaps, sir, you don't like the ship?" inquired the squire, very angry, as I could see. "I can't speak as to that, sir, not having seen her tried," said the captain. "She seems a clever craft; more I can't say." "Possibly, sir, you may not like your employer, either?" says the squire. But here Dr. Livesey cut in. "Stay a bit," said he, "stay a bit. No use of such questions as that but to produce ill feeling. The captain has said too much or he has said too little, and I'm bound to say that I require an explanation of his words. You don't, you say, like this cruise. Now, why?" "I was engaged, sir, on what we call sealed orders, to sail this ship for that gentleman where he should bid me," said the captain. "So far so good. But now I find that every man before the mast knows more than I do. I don't call that fair, now, do you?" "No," said Dr. Livesey, "I don't." "Next," said the captain, "I learn we are going after treasure - hear it from my own hands, mind you. Now, treasure is ticklish work; I don't like treasure voyages on any account, and I don't like them, above all, when they are secret and when (begging your pardon, Mr. Trelawney) the secret has been told to the parrot." "Silver's parrot?" asked the squire. "It's a way of speaking," said the captain. "Blabbed, I mean. It's my belief neither of you gentlemen know what you are about, but I'll tell you my way of it-life or death, and a close run." "That is all clear, and, I dare say, true enough," replied Dr. Livesey. "We take the risk, but we are not so ignorant as you believe us. Next, you say you don't like the crew. Are they not good seamen?" "I don't like them, sir," returned Captain Smollett. "And I think I should have had the choosing of my own hands, if you go to that." "Perhaps you should," replied the doctor. "My friend should, perhaps, have taken you along with him; but the slight, if there be one, was unintentional. And you don't like Mr. Arrow?" "I don't, sir. I believe he's a good seaman, but he's too free with the crew to be a good officer. A mate should keep himself to himself - shouldn't drink with the men before the mast!" "Do you mean he drinks?" cried the squire. "No, sir," replied the captain, "only that he's too familiar." "Well, now, and the short and long of it, captain?" asked the doctor. "Tell us what you want." "Well, gentlemen, are you determined to go on this cruise?" "Like iron," answered the squire. "Very good," said the captain. "Then, as you've heard me very patiently, saying things that I could not prove, hear me a few words more. They are putting the powder and the arms in the fore hold. Now, you have a good place under the cabin; why not put them there?-first point. Then, you are bringing four of your own people with you, and they tell me some of them are to be berthed forward. Why not give them the berths here beside the cabin? - second point." "Any more?" asked Mr. Trelawney. "One more," said the captain. "There's been too much blabbing already." "Far too much," agreed the doctor. "I'll tell you what I've heard myself," continued Captain Smollett: "that you have a map of an island, that there's crosses on the map to show where treasure is, and that the island lies - " And then he named the latitude and longitude exactly. "I never told that," cried the squire, "to a soul!" "The hands know it, sir," returned the captain. "Livesey, that must have been you or Hawkins," cried the squire. "It doesn't much matter who it was," replied the doctor. And I could see that neither he nor the captain paid much regard to Mr. Trelawney's protestations. Neither did I, to be sure, he was so loose a talker; yet in this case I believe he was really right and that nobody had told the situation of the island. "Well, gentlemen," continued the captain, "I don't know who has this map; but I make it a point, it shall be kept secret even from me and Mr. Arrow. Otherwise I would ask you to let me resign." "I see," said the doctor. "You wish us to keep this matter dark and to make a garrison of the stern part of the ship, manned with my friend's own people, and provided with all the arms and powder on board. In other words, you fear a mutiny." "Sir," said Captain Smollett, "with no intention to take offence, I deny your right to put words into my mouth. No captain, sir, would be justified in going to sea at all if he had ground enough to say that. As for Mr. Arrow, I believe him thoroughly honest; some of the men are the same; all may be for what I know. But I am responsible for the ship's safety and the life of every man Jack aboard of her. I see things going, as I think, not quite right. And I ask you to take certain precautions or let me resign my berth. And that's all." "Captain Smollett," began the doctor with a smile, "did ever you hear the fable of the mountain and the mouse? You'll excuse me, I dare say, but you remind me of that fable. When you came in here, I'll stake my wig, you meant more than this." "Doctor," said the captain, "you are smart. When I came in here I meant to get discharged. I had no thought that Mr. Trelawney would hear a word." "No more I would," cried the squire. "Had Livesey not been here I should have seen you to the deuce. As it is, I have heard you. I will do as you desire, but I think the worse of you." "That's as you please, sir," said the captain. "You'll find I do my duty." And with that he took his leave. "Trelawney," said the doctor, "contrary to all my notions, I believed you have managed to get two honest men on board with you - that man and John Silver." "Silver, if you like," cried the squire; "but as for that intolerable humbug, I declare I think his conduct unmanly, unsailorly, and downright un-English." "Well," says the doctor, "we shall see." When we came on deck, the men had begun already to take out the arms and powder, yo-ho-ing at their work, while the captain and Mr. Arrow stood by superintending. The new arrangement was quite to my liking. The whole schooner had been overhauled; six berths had been made astern out of what had been the after-part of the main hold; and this set of cabins was only joined to the galley and forecastle by a sparred passage on the port side. It had been originally meant that the captain, Mr. Arrow, Hunter, Joyce, the doctor, and the squire were to occupy these six berths. Now Redruth and I were to get two of them and Mr. Arrow and the captain were to sleep on deck in the companion, which had been enlarged on each side till you might almost have called it a round-house. Very low it was still, of course; but there was room to swing two hammocks, and even the mate seemed pleased with the arrangement. Even he, perhaps, had been doubtful as to the crew, but that is only guess, for as you shall hear, we had not long the benefit of his opinion. We were all hard at work, changing the powder and the berths, when the last man or two, and Long John along with them, came off in a shore-boat. The cook came up the side like a monkey for cleverness, and as soon as he saw what was doing, "So ho, mates!" says he. "What's this?" "We're a-changing of the powder, Jack," answers one. "Why, by the powers," cried Long John, "if we do, we'll miss the morning tide!" "My orders!" said the captain shortly. "You may go below, my man. Hands will want supper." "Aye, aye, sir," answered the cook, and touching his forelock, he disappeared at once in the direction of his galley. "That's a good man, captain," said the doctor. "Very likely, sir," replied Captain Smollett. "Easy with that, men - easy," he ran on, to the fellows who were shifting the powder; and then suddenly observing me examining the swivel we carried amidships, a long brass nine, "Here you, ship's boy," he cried, "out o' that! Off with you to the cook and get some work." And then as I was hurrying off I heard him say, quite loudly, to the doctor, "I'll have no favourites on my ship." I assure you I was quite of the squire's way of thinking, and hated the captain deeply.
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THERE was a great rush of feet across the deck. I could hear people tumbling up from the cabin and the forecastle, and slipping in an instant outside my barrel, I dived behind the fore-sail, made a double towards the stern, and came out upon the open deck in time to join Hunter and Dr. Livesey in the rush for the weather bow. There all hands were already congregated. A belt of fog had lifted almost simultaneously with the appearance of the moon. Away to the south-west of us we saw two low hills, about a couple of miles apart, and rising behind one of them a third and higher hill, whose peak was still buried in the fog. All three seemed sharp and conical in figure. So much I saw, almost in a dream, for I had not yet recovered from my horrid fear of a minute or two before. And then I heard the voice of Captain Smollett issuing orders. The HISPANIOLA was laid a couple of points nearer the wind and now sailed a course that would just clear the island on the east. "And now, men," said the captain, when all was sheeted home, "has any one of you ever seen that land ahead?" "I have, sir," said Silver. "I've watered there with a trader I was cook in." "The anchorage is on the south, behind an islet, I fancy?" asked the captain. "Yes, sir; Skeleton Island they calls it. It were a main place for pirates once, and a hand we had on board knowed all their names for it. That hill to the nor'ard they calls the Fore-mast Hill; there are three hills in a row running south'ard - fore, main, and mizzen, sir. But the main - that's the big un, with the cloud on it - they usually calls the Spy-glass, by reason of a lookout they kept when they was in the anchorage cleaning, for it's there they cleaned their ships, sir, asking your pardon." "I have a chart here," says Captain Smollett. "See if that's the place." Long John's eyes burned in his head as he took the chart, but by the fresh look of the paper I knew he was doomed to disappointment. This was not the map we found in Billy Bones's chest, but an accurate copy, complete in all things - names and heights and soundings - with the single exception of the red crosses and the written notes. Sharp as must have been his annoyance, Silver had the strength of mind to hide it. "Yes, sir," said he, "this is the spot, to be sure, and very prettily drawed out. Who might have done that, I wonder? The pirates were too ignorant, I reckon. Aye, here it is: 'Capt. Kidd's Anchorage' - just the name my shipmate called it. There's a strong current runs along the south, and then away nor'ard up the west coast. Right you was, sir," says he, "to haul your wind and keep the weather of the island. Leastways, if such was your intention as to enter and careen, and there ain't no better place for that in these waters." "Thank you, my man," says Captain Smollett. "I'll ask you later on to give us a help. You may go." I was surprised at the coolness with which John avowed his knowledge of the island, and I own I was halffrightened when I saw him drawing nearer to myself. He did not know, to be sure, that I had overheard his council from the apple barrel, and yet I had by this time taken such a horror of his cruelty, duplicity, and power that I could scarce conceal a shudder when he laid his hand upon my arm. "Ah," says he, "this here is a sweet spot, this island-a sweet spot for a lad to get ashore on. You'll bathe, and you'll climb trees, and you'll hunt goats, you will; and you'll get aloft on them hills like a goat yourself. Why, it makes me young again. I was going to forget my timber leg, I was. It's a pleasant thing to be young and have ten toes, and you may lay to that. When you want to go a bit of exploring, you just ask old John, and he'll put up a snack for you to take along." And clapping me in the friendliest way upon the shoulder, he hobbled off forward and went below. Captain Smollett, the squire, and Dr. Livesey were talking together on the quarter-deck, and anxious as I was to tell them my story, I durst not interrupt them openly. While I was still casting about in my thoughts to find some probable excuse, Dr. Livesey called me to his side. He had left his pipe below, and being a slave to tobacco, had meant that I should fetch it; but as soon as I was near enough to speak and not to be overheard, I broke immediately, "Doctor, let me speak. Get the captain and squire down to the cabin, and then make some pretence to send for me. I have terrible news." The doctor changed countenance a little, but next moment he was master of himself. "Thank you, Jim," said he quite loudly, "that was all I wanted to know," as if he had asked me a question. And with that he turned on his heel and rejoined the other two. They spoke together for a little, and though none of them started, or raised his voice, or so much as whistled, it was plain enough that Dr. Livesey had communicated my request, for the next thing that I heard was the captain giving an order to Job Anderson, and all hands were piped on deck. "My lads," said Captain Smollett, "I've a word to say to you. This land that we have sighted is the place we have been sailing for. Mr. Trelawney, being a very open-handed gentleman, as we all know, has just asked me a word or two, and as I was able to tell him that every man on board had done his duty, alow and aloft, as I never ask to see it done better, why, he and I and the doctor are going below to the cabin to drink YOUR health and luck, and you'll have grog served out for you to drink OUR health and luck. I'll tell you what I think of this: I think it handsome. And if you think as I do, you'll give a good sea-cheer for the gentleman that does it." The cheer followed - that was a matter of course; but it rang out so full and hearty that I confess I could hardly believe these same men were plotting for our blood. "One more cheer for Cap'n Smollett," cried Long John when the first had subsided. And this also was given with a will. On the top of that the three gentlemen went below, and not long after, word was sent forward that Jim Hawkins was wanted in the cabin. I found them all three seated round the table, a bottle of Spanish wine and some raisins before them, and the doctor smoking away, with his wig on his lap, and that, I knew, was a sign that he was agitated. The stern window was open, for it was a warm night, and you could see the moon shining behind on the ship's wake. "Now, Hawkins," said the squire, "you have something to say. Speak up." I did as I was bid, and as short as I could make it, told the whole details of Silver's conversation. Nobody interrupted me till I was done, nor did any one of the three of them make so much as a movement, but they kept their eyes upon my face from first to last. "Jim," said Dr. Livesey, "take a seat." And they made me sit down at table beside them, poured me out a glass of wine, filled my hands with raisins, and all three, one after the other, and each with a bow, drank my good health, and their service to me, for my luck and courage. "Now, captain," said the squire, "you were right, and I was wrong. I own myself an ass, and I await your orders." "No more an ass than I, sir," returned the captain. "I never heard of a crew that meant to mutiny but what showed signs before, for any man that had an eye in his head to see the mischief and take steps according. But this crew," he added, "beats me." "Captain," said the doctor, "with your permission, that's Silver. A very remarkable man." "He'd look remarkably well from a yard-arm, sir," returned the captain. "But this is talk; this don't lead to anything. I see three or four points, and with Mr. Trelawney's permission, I'll name them." "You, sir, are the captain. It is for you to speak," says Mr. Trelawney grandly. "First point," began Mr. Smollett. "We must go on, because we can't turn back. If I gave the word to go about, they would rise at once. Second point, we have time before us - at least until this treasure's found. Third point, there are faithful hands. Now, sir, it's got to come to blows sooner or later, and what I propose is to take time by the forelock, as the saying is, and come to blows some fine day when they least expect it. We can count, I take it, on your own home servants, Mr. Trelawney?" "As upon myself," declared the squire. "Three," reckoned the captain; "ourselves make seven, counting Hawkins here. Now, about the honest hands?" "Most likely Trelawney's own men," said the doctor; "those he had picked up for himself before he lit on Silver." "Nay," replied the squire. "Hands was one of mine." "I did think I could have trusted Hands," added the captain. "And to think that they're all Englishmen!" broke out the squire. "Sir, I could find it in my heart to blow the ship up." "Well, gentlemen," said the captain, "the best that I can say is not much. We must lay to, if you please, and keep a bright lookout. It's trying on a man, I know. It would be pleasanter to come to blows. But there's no help for it till we know our men. Lay to, and whistle for a wind, that's my view." "Jim here," said the doctor, "can help us more than anyone. The men are not shy with him, and Jim is a noticing lad." "Hawkins, I put prodigious faith in you," added the squire. I began to feel pretty desperate at this, for I felt altogether helpless; and yet, by an odd train of circumstances, it was indeed through me that safety came. In the meantime, talk as we pleased, there were only seven out of the twenty-six on whom we knew we could rely; and out of these seven one was a boy, so that the grown men on our side were six to their nineteen.
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THERE was no return of the mutineers - not so much as another shot out of the woods. They had "got their rations for that day," as the captain put it, and we had the place to ourselves and a quiet time to overhaul the wounded and get dinner. Squire and I cooked outside in spite of the danger, and even outside we could hardly tell what we were at, for horror of the loud groans that reached us from the doctor's patients. Out of the eight men who had fallen in the action, only three still breathed - that one of the pirates who had been shot at the loophole, Hunter, and Captain Smollett; and of these, the first two were as good as dead; the mutineer indeed died under the doctor's knife, and Hunter, do what we could, never recovered consciousness in this world. He lingered all day, breathing loudly like the old buccaneer at home in his apoplectic fit, but the bones of his chest had been crushed by the blow and his skull fractured in falling, and some time in the following night, without sign or sound, he went to his Maker. As for the captain, his wounds were grievous indeed, but not dangerous. No organ was fatally injured. Anderson's ball - for it was Job that shot him first-had broken his shoulder-blade and touched the lung, not badly; the second had only torn and displaced some muscles in the calf. He was sure to recover, the doctor said, but in the meantime, and for weeks to come, he must not walk nor move his arm, nor so much as speak when he could help it. My own accidental cut across the knuckles was a fleabite. Doctor Livesey patched it up with plaster and pulled my ears for me into the bargain. After dinner the squire and the doctor sat by the captain's side awhile in consultation; and when they had talked to their hearts' content, it being then a little past noon, the doctor took up his hat and pistols, girt on a cutlass, put the chart in his pocket, and with a musket over his shoulder crossed the palisade on the north side and set off briskly through the trees. Gray and I were sitting together at the far end of the block house, to be out of earshot of our officers consulting; and Gray took his pipe out of his mouth and fairly forgot to put it back again, so thunder-struck he was at this occurrence. "Why, in the name of Davy Jones," said he, "is Dr. Livesey mad?" "Why no," says I. "He's about the last of this crew for that, I take it." "Well, shipmate," said Gray, "mad he may not be; but if HE'S not, you mark my words, I am." "I take it," replied I, "the doctor has his idea; and if I am right, he's going now to see Ben Gunn." I was right, as appeared later; but in the meantime, the house being stifling hot and the little patch of sand inside the palisade ablaze with midday sun, I began to get another thought into my head, which was not by any means so right. What I began to do was to envy the doctor walking in the cool shadow of the woods with the birds about him and the pleasant smell of the pines, while I sat grilling, with my clothes stuck to the hot resin, and so much blood about me and so many poor dead bodies lying all around that I took a disgust of the place that was almost as strong as fear. All the time I was washing out the block house, and then washing up the things from dinner, this disgust and envy kept growing stronger and stronger, till at last, being near a bread-bag, and no one then observing me, I took the first step towards my escapade and filled both pockets of my coat with biscuit. I was a fool, if you like, and certainly I was going to do a foolish, over-bold act; but I was determined to do it with all the precautions in my power. These biscuits, should anything befall me, would keep me, at least, from starving till far on in the next day. The next thing I laid hold of was a brace of pistols, and as I already had a powder-horn and bullets, I felt myself well supplied with arms. As for the scheme I had in my head, it was not a bad one in itself. I was to go down the sandy spit that divides the anchorage on the east from the open sea, find the white rock I had observed last evening, and ascertain whether it was there or not that Ben Gunn had hidden his boat, a thing quite worth doing, as I still believe. But as I was certain I should not be allowed to leave the enclosure, my only plan was to take French leave and slip out when nobody was watching, and that was so bad a way of doing it as made the thing itself wrong. But I was only a boy, and I had made my mind up. Well, as things at last fell out, I found an admirable opportunity. The squire and Gray were busy helping the captain with his bandages, the coast was clear, I made a bolt for it over the stockade and into the thickest of the trees, and before my absence was observed I was out of cry of my companions. This was my second folly, far worse than the first, as I left but two sound men to guard the house; but like the first, it was a help towards saving all of us. I took my way straight for the east coast of the island, for I was determined to go down the sea side of the spit to avoid all chance of observation from the anchorage. It was already late in the afternoon, although still warm and sunny. As I continued to thread the tall woods, I could hear from far before me not only the continuous thunder of the surf, but a certain tossing of foliage and grinding of boughs which showed me the sea breeze had set in higher than usual. Soon cool draughts of air began to reach me, and a few steps farther I came forth into the open borders of the grove, and saw the sea lying blue and sunny to the horizon and the surf tumbling and tossing its foam along the beach. I have never seen the sea quiet round Treasure Island. The sun might blaze overhead, the air be without a breath, the surface smooth and blue, but still these great rollers would be running along all the external coast, thundering and thundering by day and night; and I scarce believe there is one spot in the island where a man would be out of earshot of their noise. I walked along beside the surf with great enjoyment, till, thinking I was now got far enough to the south, I took the cover of some thick bushes and crept warily up to the ridge of the spit. Behind me was the sea, in front the anchorage. The sea breeze, as though it had the sooner blown itself out by its unusual violence, was already at an end; it had been succeeded by light, variable airs from the south and south-east, carrying great banks of fog; and the anchorage, under lee of Skeleton Island, lay still and leaden as when first we entered it. The HISPANIOLA, in that unbroken mirror, was exactly portrayed from the truck to the waterline, the Jolly Roger hanging from her peak. Alongside lay one of the gigs, Silver in the sternsheets - him I could always recognize - while a couple of men were leaning over the stern bulwarks, one of them with a red cap - the very rogue that I had seen some hours before stride-legs upon the palisade. Apparently they were talking and laughing, though at that distance - upwards of a mile - I could, of course, hear no word of what was said. All at once there began the most horrid, unearthly screaming, which at first startled me badly, though I had soon remembered the voice of Captain Flint and even thought I could make out the bird by her bright plumage as she sat perched upon her master's wrist. Soon after, the jolly-boat shoved off and pulled for shore, and the man with the red cap and his comrade went below by the cabin companion. Just about the same time, the sun had gone down behind the Spy-glass, and as the fog was collecting rapidly, it began to grow dark in earnest. I saw I must lose no time if I were to find the boat that evening. The white rock, visible enough above the brush, was still some eighth of a mile further down the spit, and it took me a goodish while to get up with it, crawling, often on all fours, among the scrub. Night had almost come when I laid my hand on its rough sides. Right below it there was an exceedingly small hollow of green turf, hidden by banks and a thick underwood about kneedeep, that grew there very plentifully; and in the centre of the dell, sure enough, a little tent of goat- skins, like what the gipsies carry about with them in England. I dropped into the hollow, lifted the side of the tent, and there was Ben Gunn's boat - home-made if ever anything was home-made; a rude, lop-sided framework of tough wood, and stretched upon that a covering of goatskin, with the hair inside. The thing was extremely small, even for me, and I can hardly imagine that it could have floated with a full-sized man. There was one thwart set as low as possible, a kind of stretcher in the bows, and a double paddle for propulsion. I had not then seen a coracle, such as the ancient Britons made, but I have seen one since, and I can give you no fairer idea of Ben Gunn's boat than by saying it was like the first and the worst coracle ever made by man. But the great advantage of the coracle it certainly possessed, for it was exceedingly light and portable. Well, now that I had found the boat, you would have thought I had had enough of truantry for once, but in the meantime I had taken another notion and become so obstinately fond of it that I would have carried it out, I believe, in the teeth of Captain Smollett himself. This was to slip out under cover of the night, cut the HISPANIOLA adrift, and let her go ashore where she fancied. I had quite made up my mind that the mutineers, after their repulse of the morning, had nothing nearer their hearts than to up anchor and away to sea; this, I thought, it would be a fine thing to prevent, and now that I had seen how they left their watchmen unprovided with a boat, I thought it might be done with little risk. Down I sat to wait for darkness, and made a hearty meal of biscuit. It was a night out of ten thousand for my purpose. The fog had now buried all heaven. As the last rays of daylight dwindled and disappeared, absolute blackness settled down on Treasure Island. And when, at last, I shouldered the coracle and groped my way stumblingly out of the hollow where I had supped, there were but two points visible on the whole anchorage. One was the great fire on shore, by which the defeated pirates lay carousing in the swamp. The other, a mere blur of light upon the darkness, indicated the position of the anchored ship. She had swung round to the ebb-her bow was now towards me - the only lights on board were in the cabin, and what I saw was merely a reflection on the fog of the strong rays that flowed from the stern window. The ebb had already run some time, and I had to wade through a long belt of swampy sand, where I sank several times above the ankle, before I came to the edge of the retreating water, and wading a little way in, with some strength and dexterity, set my coracle, keel downwards, on the surface.
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THE red glare of the torch, lighting up the interior of the block house, showed me the worst of my apprehensions realized. The pirates were in possession of the house and stores: there was the cask of cognac, there were the pork and bread, as before, and what tenfold increased my horror, not a sign of any prisoner. I could only judge that all had perished, and my heart smote me sorely that I had not been there to perish with them. There were six of the buccaneers, all told; not another man was left alive. Five of them were on their feet, flushed and swollen, suddenly called out of the first sleep of drunkenness. The sixth had only risen upon his elbow; he was deadly pale, and the blood-stained bandage round his head told that he had recently been wounded, and still more recently dressed. I remembered the man who had been shot and had run back among the woods in the great attack, and doubted not that this was he. The parrot sat, preening her plumage, on Long John's shoulder. He himself, I thought, looked somewhat paler and more stern than I was used to. He still wore the fine broadcloth suit in which he had fulfilled his mission, but it was bitterly the worse for wear, daubed with clay and torn with the sharp briers of the wood. "So," said he, "here's Jim Hawkins, shiver my timbers! Dropped in, like, eh? Well, come, I take that friendly." And thereupon he sat down across the brandy cask and began to fill a pipe. "Give me a loan of the link, Dick," said he; and then, when he had a good light, "That'll do, lad," he added; "stick the glim in the wood heap; and you, gentlemen, bring yourselves to! You needn't stand up for Mr. Hawkins; HE'LL excuse you, you may lay to that. And so, Jim" - stopping the tobacco - "here you were, and quite a pleasant surprise for poor old John. I see you were smart when first I set my eyes on you, but this here gets away from me clean, it do." To all this, as may be well supposed, I made no answer. They had set me with my back against the wall, and I stood there, looking Silver in the face, pluckily enough, I hope, to all outward appearance, but with black despair in my heart. Silver took a whiff or two of his pipe with great composure and then ran on again. "Now, you see, Jim, so be as you ARE here," says he, "I'll give you a piece of my mind. I've always liked you, I have, for a lad of spirit, and the picter of my own self when I was young and handsome. I always wanted you to jine and take your share, and die a gentleman, and now, my cock, you've got to. Cap'n Smollett's a fine seaman, as I'll own up to any day, but stiff on discipline. 'Dooty is dooty,' says he, and right he is. Just you keep clear of the cap'n. The doctor himself is gone dead again you - 'ungrateful scamp' was what he said; and the short and the long of the whole story is about here: you can't go back to your own lot, for they won't have you; and without you start a third ship's company all by yourself, which might be lonely, you'll have to jine with Cap'n Silver." So far so good. My friends, then, were still alive, and though I partly believed the truth of Silver's statement, that the cabin party were incensed at me for my desertion, I was more relieved than distressed by what I heard. "I don't say nothing as to your being in our hands," continued Silver, "though there you are, and you may lay to it. I'm all for argyment; I never seen good come out o' threatening. If you like the service, well, you'll jine; and if you don't, Jim, why, you're free to answer no - free and welcome, shipmate; and if fairer can be said by mortal seaman, shiver my sides!" "Am I to answer, then?" I asked with a very tremulous voice. Through all this sneering talk, I was made to feel the threat of death that overhung me, and my cheeks burned and my heart beat painfully in my breast. "Lad," said Silver, "no one's a-pressing of you. Take your bearings. None of us won't hurry you, mate; time goes so pleasant in your company, you see." "Well," says I, growing a bit bolder, "if I'm to choose, I declare I have a right to know what's what, and why you're here, and where my friends are." "Wot's wot?" repeated one of the buccaneers in a deep growl. "Ah, he'd be a lucky one as knowed that!" "You'll perhaps batten down your hatches till you're spoke to, my friend," cried Silver truculently to this speaker. And then, in his first gracious tones, he replied to me, "Yesterday morning, Mr. Hawkins," said he, "in the dog-watch, down came Doctor Livesey with a flag of truce. Says he, 'Cap'n Silver, you're sold out. Ship's gone.' Well, maybe we'd been taking a glass, and a song to help it round. I won't say no. Leastways, none of us had looked out. We looked out, and by thunder, the old ship was gone! I never seen a pack o' fools look fishier; and you may lay to that, if I tells you that looked the fishiest. 'Well,' says the doctor, 'let's bargain.' We bargained, him and I, and here we are: stores, brandy, block house, the firewood you was thoughtful enough to cut, and in a manner of speaking, the whole blessed boat, from cross-trees to kelson. As for them, they've tramped; I don't know where's they are." He drew again quietly at his pipe. "And lest you should take it into that head of yours," he went on, "that you was included in the treaty, here's the last word that was said: 'How many are you,' says I, 'to leave?' 'Four,' says he; 'four, and one of us wounded. As for that boy, I don't know where he is, confound him,' says he, 'nor I don't much care. We're about sick of him.' These was his words. "Is that all?" I asked. "Well, it's all that you're to hear, my son," returned Silver. "And now I am to choose?" "And now you are to choose, and you may lay to that," said Silver. "Well," said I, "I am not such a fool but I know pretty well what I have to look for. Let the worst come to the worst, it's little I care. I've seen too many die since I fell in with you. But there's a thing or two I have to tell you," I said, and by this time I was quite excited; "and the first is this: here you are, in a bad way - ship lost, treasure lost, men lost, your whole business gone to wreck; and if you want to know who did it - it was I! I was in the apple barrel the night we sighted land, and I heard you, John, and you, Dick Johnson, and Hands, who is now at the bottom of the sea, and told every word you said before the hour was out. And as for the schooner, it was I who cut her cable, and it was I that killed the men you had aboard of her, and it was I who brought her where you'll never see her more, not one of you. The laugh's on my side; I've had the top of this business from the first; I no more fear you than I fear a fly. Kill me, if you please, or spare me. But one thing I'll say, and no more; if you spare me, bygones are bygones, and when you fellows are in court for piracy, I'll save you all I can. It is for you to choose. Kill another and do yourselves no good, or spare me and keep a witness to save you from the gallows." I stopped, for, I tell you, I was out of breath, and to my wonder, not a man of them moved, but all sat staring at me like as many sheep. And while they were still staring, I broke out again, "And now, Mr. Silver," I said, "I believe you're the best man here, and if things go to the worst, I'll take it kind of you to let the doctor know the way I took it." "I'll bear it in mind," said Silver with an accent so curious that I could not, for the life of me, decide whether he were laughing at my request or had been favourably affected by my courage. "I'll put one to that," cried the old mahogany-faced seaman - Morgan by name - whom I had seen in Long John's public-house upon the quays of Bristol. "It was him that knowed Black Dog." "Well, and see here," added the sea-cook. "I'll put another again to that, by thunder! For it was this same boy that faked the chart from Billy Bones. First and last, we've split upon Jim Hawkins!" "Then here goes!" said Morgan with an oath. And he sprang up, drawing his knife as if he had been twenty. "Avast, there!" cried Silver. "Who are you, Tom Morgan? Maybe you thought you was cap'n here, perhaps. By the powers, but I'll teach you better! Cross me, and you'll go where many a good man's gone before you, first and last, these thirty year back - some to the yard-arm, shiver my timbers, and some by the board, and all to feed the fishes. There's never a man looked me between the eyes and seen a good day a'terwards, Tom Morgan, you may lay to that." Morgan paused, but a hoarse murmur rose from the others. "Tom's right," said one. "I stood hazing long enough from one," added another. "I'll be hanged if I'll be hazed by you, John Silver." "Did any of you gentlemen want to have it out with ME?" roared Silver, bending far forward from his position on the keg, with his pipe still glowing in his right hand. "Put a name on what you're at; you ain't dumb, I reckon. Him that wants shall get it. Have I lived this many years, and a son of a rum puncheon cock his hat athwart my hawse at the latter end of it? You know the way; you're all gentlemen o' fortune, by your account. Well, I'm ready. Take a cutlass, him that dares, and I'll see the colour of his inside, crutch and all, before that pipe's empty." Not a man stirred; not a man answered. "That's your sort, is it?" he added, returning his pipe to his mouth. "Well, you're a gay lot to look at, anyway. Not much worth to fight, you ain't. P'r'aps you can understand King George's English. I'm cap'n here by 'lection. I'm cap'n here because I'm the best man by a long sea-mile. You won't fight, as gentlemen o' fortune should; then, by thunder, you'll obey, and you may lay to it! I like that boy, now; I never seen a better boy than that. He's more a man than any pair of rats of you in this here house, and what I say is this: let me see him that'll lay a hand on him - that's what I say, and you may lay to it." There was a long pause after this. I stood straight up against the wall, my heart still going like a sledgehammer, but with a ray of hope now shining in my bosom. Silver leant back against the wall, his arms crossed, his pipe in the corner of his mouth, as calm as though he had been in church; yet his eye kept wandering furtively, and he kept the tail of it on his unruly followers. They, on their part, drew gradually together towards the far end of the block house, and the low hiss of their whispering sounded in my ear continuously, like a stream. One after another, they would look up, and the red light of the torch would fall for a second on their nervous faces; but it was not towards me, it was towards Silver that they turned their eyes. "You seem to have a lot to say," remarked Silver, spitting far into the air. "Pipe up and let me hear it, or lay to." "Ax your pardon, sir," returned one of the men; "you're pretty free with some of the rules; maybe you'll kindly keep an eye upon the rest. This crew's dissatisfied; this crew don't vally bullying a marlin-spike; this crew has its rights like other crews, I'll make so free as that; and by your own rules, I take it we can talk together. I ax your pardon, sir, acknowledging you for to be captaing at this present; but I claim my right, and steps outside for a council." And with an elaborate sea-salute, this fellow, a long, ill-looking, yellow-eyed man of five and thirty, stepped coolly towards the door and disappeared out of the house. One after another the rest followed his example, each making a salute as he passed, each adding some apology. "According to rules," said one. "Forecastle council," said Morgan. And so with one remark or another all marched out and left Silver and me alone with the torch. The sea-cook instantly removed his pipe. "Now, look you here, Jim Hawkins," he said in a steady whisper that was no more than audible, "you're within half a plank of death, and what's a long sight worse, of torture. They're going to throw me off. But, you mark, I stand by you through thick and thin. I didn't mean to; no, not till you spoke up. I was about desperate to lose that much blunt, and be hanged into the bargain. But I see you was the right sort. I says to myself, you stand by Hawkins, John, and Hawkins'll stand by you. You're his last card, and by the living thunder, John, he's yours! Back to back, says I. You save your witness, and he'll save your neck!" I began dimly to understand. "You mean all's lost?" I asked. "Aye, by gum, I do!" he answered. "Ship gone, neck gone - that's the size of it. Once I looked into that bay, Jim Hawkins, and seen no schooner - well, I'm tough, but I gave out. As for that lot and their council, mark me, they're outright fools and cowards. I'll save your life - if so be as I can - from them. But, see here, Jim - tit for tat - you save Long John from swinging." I was bewildered; it seemed a thing so hopeless he was asking - he, the old buccaneer, the ringleader throughout. "What I can do, that I'll do," I said. "It's a bargain!" cried Long John. "You speak up plucky, and by thunder, I've a chance!" He hobbled to the torch, where it stood propped among the firewood, and took a fresh light to his pipe. "Understand me, Jim," he said, returning. "I've a head on my shoulders, I have. I'm on squire's side now. I know you've got that ship safe somewheres. How you done it, I don't know, but safe it is. I guess Hands and O'Brien turned soft. I never much believed in neither of THEM. Now you mark me. I ask no questions, nor I won't let others. I know when a game's up, I do; and I know a lad that's staunch. Ah, you that's young-you and me might have done a power of good together!" He drew some cognac from the cask into a tin cannikin. "Will you taste, messmate?" he asked; and when I had refused: "Well, I'll take a drain myself, Jim," said he. "I need a caulker, for there's trouble on hand. And talking o' trouble, why did that doctor give me the chart, Jim?" My face expressed a wonder so unaffected that he saw the needlessness of further questions. "Ah, well, he did, though," said he. "And there's something under that, no doubt - something, surely, under that, Jim - bad or good." And he took another swallow of the brandy, shaking his great fair head like a man who looks forward to the worst. 29 The Black Spot Again THE council of buccaneers had lasted some time, when one of them re-entered the house, and with a repetition of the same salute, which had in my eyes an ironical air, begged for a moment's loan of the torch. Silver briefly agreed, and this emissary retired again, leaving us together in the dark. "There's a breeze coming, Jim," said Silver, who had by this time adopted quite a friendly and familiar tone. I turned to the loophole nearest me and looked out. The embers of the great fire had so far burned themselves out and now glowed so low and duskily that I understood why these conspirators desired a torch. About half-way down the slope to the stockade, they were collected in a group; one held the light, another was on his knees in their midst, and I saw the blade of an open knife shine in his hand with varying colours in the moon and torchlight. The rest were all somewhat stooping, as though watching the manoeuvres of this last. I could just make out that he had a book as well as a knife in his hand, and was still wondering how anything so incongruous had come in their possession when the kneeling figure rose once more to his feet and the whole party began to move together towards the house. "Here they come," said I; and I returned to my former position, for it seemed beneath my dignity that they should find me watching them. "Well, let 'em come, lad - let 'em come," said Silver cheerily. "I've still a shot in my locker." The door opened, and the five men, standing huddled together just inside, pushed one of their number forward. In any other circumstances it would have been comical to see his slow advance, hesitating as he set down each foot, but holding his closed right hand in front of him. "Step up, lad," cried Silver. "I won't eat you. Hand it over, lubber. I know the rules, I do; I won't hurt a depytation." Thus encouraged, the buccaneer stepped forth more briskly, and having passed something to Silver, from hand to hand, slipped yet more smartly back again to his companions. The sea-cook looked at what had been given him. "The black spot! I thought so," he observed. "Where might you have got the paper? Why, hillo! Look here, now; this ain't lucky! You've gone and cut this out of a Bible. What fool's cut a Bible?" "Ah, there!" said Morgan. "There! Wot did I say? No good'll come o' that, I said." "Well, you've about fixed it now, among you," continued Silver. "You'll all swing now, I reckon. What softheaded lubber had a Bible?" "It was Dick," said one. "Dick, was it? Then Dick can get to prayers," said Silver. "He's seen his slice of luck, has Dick, and you may lay to that." But here the long man with the yellow eyes struck in. "Belay that talk, John Silver," he said. "This crew has tipped you the black spot in full council, as in dooty bound; just you turn it over, as in dooty bound, and see what's wrote there. Then you can talk." "Thanky, George," replied the sea-cook. "You always was brisk for business, and has the rules by heart, George, as I'm pleased to see. Well, what is it, anyway? Ah! 'Deposed' - that's it, is it? Very pretty wrote, to be sure; like print, I swear. Your hand o' write, George? Why, you was gettin' quite a leadin' man in this here crew. You'll be cap'n next, I shouldn't wonder. Just oblige me with that torch again, will you? This pipe don't draw." "Come, now," said George, "you don't fool this crew no more. You're a funny man, by your account; but you're over now, and you'll maybe step down off that barrel and help vote." "I thought you said you knowed the rules," returned Silver contemptuously. "Leastways, if you don't, I do; and I wait here - and I'm still your cap'n, mind - till you outs with your grievances and I reply; in the meantime, your black spot ain't worth a biscuit. After that, we'll see." "Oh," replied George, "you don't be under no kind of apprehension; WE'RE all square, we are. First, you've made a hash of this cruise - you'll be a bold man to say no to that. Second, you let the enemy out o' this here trap for nothing. Why did they want out? I dunno, but it's pretty plain they wanted it. Third, you wouldn't let us go at them upon the march. Oh, we see through you, John Silver; you want to play booty, that's what's wrong with you. And then, fourth, there's this here boy." "Is that all?" asked Silver quietly. "Enough, too," retorted George. "We'll all swing and sun-dry for your bungling." "Well now, look here, I'll answer these four p'ints; one after another I'll answer 'em. I made a hash o' this cruise, did I? Well now, you all know what I wanted, and you all know if that had been done that we'd 'a been aboard the HISPANIOLA this night as ever was, every man of us alive, and fit, and full of good plum-duff, and the treasure in the hold of her, by thunder! Well, who crossed me? Who forced my hand, as was the lawful cap'n? Who tipped me the black spot the day we landed and began this dance? Ah, it's a fine dance - I'm with you there - and looks mighty like a hornpipe in a rope's end at Execution Dock by London town, it does. But who done it? Why, it was Anderson, and Hands, and you, George Merry! And you're the last above board of that same meddling crew; and you have the Davy Jones's insolence to up and stand for cap'n over me - you, that sank the lot of us! By the powers! But this tops the stiffest yarn to nothing." Silver paused, and I could see by the faces of George and his late comrades that these words had not been said in vain. "That's for number one," cried the accused, wiping the sweat from his brow, for he had been talking with a vehemence that shook the house. "Why, I give you my word, I'm sick to speak to you. You've neither sense nor memory, and I leave it to fancy where your mothers was that let you come to sea. Sea! Gentlemen o' fortune! I reckon tailors is your trade." "Go on, John," said Morgan. "Speak up to the others." "Ah, the others!" returned John. "They're a nice lot, ain't they? You say this cruise is bungled. Ah! By gum, if you could understand how bad it's bungled, you would see! We're that near the gibbet that my neck's stiff with thinking on it. You've seen 'em, maybe, hanged in chains, birds about 'em, seamen p'inting 'em out as they go down with the tide. 'Who's that?' says one. 'That! Why, that's John Silver. I knowed him well,' says another. And you can hear the chains ajangle as you go about and reach for the other buoy. Now, that's about where we are, every mother's son of us, thanks to him, and Hands, and Anderson, and other ruination fools of you. And if you want to know about number four, and that boy, why, shiver my timbers, isn't he a hostage? Are we a-going to waste a hostage? No, not us; he might be our last chance, and I shouldn't wonder. Kill that boy? Not me, mates! And number three? Ah, well, there's a deal to say to number three. Maybe you don't count it nothing to have a real college doctor to see you every day - you, John, with your head broke - or you, George Merry, that had the ague shakes upon you not six hours agone, and has your eyes the colour of lemon peel to this same moment on the clock? And maybe, perhaps, you didn't know there was a consort coming either? But there is, and not so long till then; and we'll see who'll be glad to have a hostage when it comes to that. And as for number two, and why I made a bargain - well, you came crawling on your knees to me to make it - on your knees you came, you was that downhearted - and you'd have starved too if I hadn't - but that's a trifle! You look there - that's why!" And he cast down upon the floor a paper that I instantly recognized - none other than the chart on yellow paper, with the three red crosses, that I had found in the oilcloth at the bottom of the captain's chest. Why the doctor had given it to him was more than I could fancy. But if it were inexplicable to me, the appearance of the chart was incredible to the surviving mutineers. They leaped upon it like cats upon a mouse. It went from hand to hand, one tearing it from another; and by the oaths and the cries and the childish laughter with which they accompanied their examination, you would have thought, not only they were fingering the very gold, but were at sea with it, besides, in safety. "Yes," said one, "that's Flint, sure enough. J. F., and a score below, with a clove hitch to it; so he done ever." "Mighty pretty," said George. "But how are we to get away with it, and us no ship." Silver suddenly sprang up, and supporting himself with a hand against the wall: "Now I give you warning, George," he cried. "One more word of your sauce, and I'll call you down and fight you. How? Why, how do I know? You had ought to tell me that - you and the rest, that lost me my schooner, with your interference, burn you! But not you, you can't; you hain't got the invention of a cockroach. But civil you can speak, and shall, George Merry, you may lay to that." "That's fair enow," said the old man Morgan. "Fair! I reckon so," said the sea-cook. "You lost the ship; I found the treasure. Who's the better man at that? And now I resign, by thunder! Elect whom you please to be your cap'n now; I'm done with it." "Silver!" they cried. "Barbecue forever! Barbecue for cap'n!" "So that's the toon, is it?" cried the cook. "George, I reckon you'll have to wait another turn, friend; and lucky for you as I'm not a revengeful man. But that was never my way. And now, shipmates, this black spot? 'Tain't much good now, is it? Dick's crossed his luck and spoiled his Bible, and that's about all." "It'll do to kiss the book on still, won't it?" growled Dick, who was evidently uneasy at the curse he had brought upon himself. "A Bible with a bit cut out!" returned Silver derisively. "Not it. It don't bind no more'n a ballad-book." "Don't it, though?" cried Dick with a sort of joy. "Well, I reckon that's worth having too." "Here, Jim - here's a cur'osity for you," said Silver, and he tossed me the paper. It was around about the size of a crown piece. One side was blank, for it had been the last leaf; the other contained a verse or two of Revelation - these words among the rest, which struck sharply home upon my mind: "Without are dogs and murderers." The printed side had been blackened with wood ash, which already began to come off and soil my fingers; on the blank side had been written with the same material the one word "Depposed." I have that curiosity beside me at this moment, but not a trace of writing now remains beyond a single scratch, such as a man might make with his thumb-nail. That was the end of the night's business. Soon after, with a drink all round, we lay down to sleep, and the outside of Silver's vengeance was to put George Merry up for sentinel and threaten him with death if he should prove unfaithful. It was long ere I could close an eye, and heaven knows I had matter enough for thought in the man whom I had slain that afternoon, in my own most perilous position, and above all, in the remarkable game that I saw Silver now engaged upon - keeping the mutineers together with one hand and grasping with the other after every means, possible and impossible, to make his peace and save his miserable life. He himself slept peacefully and snored aloud, yet my heart was sore for him, wicked as he was, to think on the dark perils that environed and the shameful gibbet that awaited him.
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readbookywooks · 8 years ago
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I WAS wakened - indeed, we were all wakened, for I could see even the sentinel shake himself together from where he had fallen against the door-post - by a clear, hearty voice hailing us from the margin of the wood: "Block house, ahoy!" it cried. "Here's the doctor." And the doctor it was. Although I was glad to hear the sound, yet my gladness was not without admixture. I remembered with confusion my insubordinate and stealthy conduct, and when I saw where it had brought me - among what companions and surrounded by what dangers - I felt ashamed to look him in the face. He must have risen in the dark, for the day had hardly come; and when I ran to a loophole and looked out, I saw him standing, like Silver once before, up to the mid-leg in creeping vapour. "You, doctor! Top o' the morning to you, sir!" cried Silver, broad awake and beaming with good nature in a moment. "Bright and early, to be sure; and it's the early bird, as the saying goes, that gets the rations. George, shake up your timbers, son, and help Dr. Livesey over the ship's side. All a-doin' well, your patients was - all well and merry." So he pattered on, standing on the hilltop with his crutch under his elbow and one hand upon the side of the log-house - quite the old John in voice, manner, and expression. "We've quite a surprise for you too, sir," he continued. "We've a little stranger here - he! he! A noo boarder and lodger, sir, and looking fit and taut as a fiddle; slep' like a supercargo, he did, right alongside of John - stem to stem we was, all night." Dr. Livesey was by this time across the stockade and pretty near the cook, and I could hear the alteration in his voice as he said, "Not Jim?" "The very same Jim as ever was," says Silver. The doctor stopped outright, although he did not speak, and it was some seconds before he seemed able to move on. "Well, well," he said at last, "duty first and pleasure afterwards, as you might have said yourself, Silver. Let us overhaul these patients of yours." A moment afterwards he had entered the block house and with one grim nod to me proceeded with his work among the sick. He seemed under no apprehension, though he must have known that his life, among these treacherous demons, depended on a hair; and he rattled on to his patients as if he were paying an ordinary professional visit in a quiet English family. His manner, I suppose, reacted on the men, for they behaved to him as if nothing had occurred, as if he were still ship's doctor and they still faithful hands before the mast. "You're doing well, my friend," he said to the fellow with the bandaged head, "and if ever any person had a close shave, it was you; your head must be as hard as iron. Well, George, how goes it? You're a pretty colour, certainly; why, your liver, man, is upside down. Did you take that medicine? Did he take that medicine, men?" "Aye, aye, sir, he took it, sure enough," returned Morgan. "Because, you see, since I am mutineers' doctor, or prison doctor as I prefer to call it," says Doctor Livesey in his pleasantest way, "I make it a point of honour not to lose a man for King George (God bless him!) and the gallows." The rogues looked at each other but swallowed the homethrust in silence. "Dick don't feel well, sir," said one. "Don't he?" replied the doctor. "Well, step up here, Dick, and let me see your tongue. No, I should be surprised if he did! The man's tongue is fit to frighten the French. Another fever." "Ah, there," said Morgan, "that comed of sp'iling Bibles." "That comes - as you call it - of being arrant asses," retorted the doctor, "and not having sense enough to know honest air from poison, and the dry land from a vile, pestiferous slough. I think it most probable-though of course it's only an opinion - that you'll all have the deuce to pay before you get that malaria out of your systems. Camp in a bog, would you? Silver, I'm surprised at you. You're less of a fool than many, take you all round; but you don't appear to me to have the rudiments of a notion of the rules of health. "Well," he added after he had dosed them round and they had taken his prescriptions, with really laughable humility, more like charity schoolchildren than blood-guilty mutineers and pirates - "well, that's done for today. And now I should wish to have a talk with that boy, please." And he nodded his head in my direction carelessly. George Merry was at the door, spitting and spluttering over some bad-tasted medicine; but at the first word of the doctor's proposal he swung round with a deep flush and cried "No!" and swore. Silver struck the barrel with his open hand. "Si-lence!" he roared and looked about him positively like a lion. "Doctor," he went on in his usual tones, "I was a-thinking of that, knowing as how you had a fancy for the boy. We're all humbly grateful for your kindness, and as you see, puts faith in you and takes the drugs down like that much grog. And I take it I've found a way as'll suit all. Hawkins, will you give me your word of honour as a young gentleman - for a young gentleman you are, although poor born - your word of honour not to slip your cable?" I readily gave the pledge required. "Then, doctor," said Silver, "you just step outside o' that stockade, and once you're there I'll bring the boy down on the inside, and I reckon you can yarn through the spars. Good day to you, sir, and all our dooties to the squire and Cap'n Smollett." The explosion of disapproval, which nothing but Silver's black looks had restrained, broke out immediately the doctor had left the house. Silver was roundly accused of playing double - of trying to make a separate peace for himself, of sacrificing the interests of his accomplices and victims, and, in one word, of the identical, exact thing that he was doing. It seemed to me so obvious, in this case, that I could not imagine how he was to turn their anger. But he was twice the man the rest were, and his last night's victory had given him a huge preponderance on their minds. He called them all the fools and dolts you can imagine, said it was necessary I should talk to the doctor, fluttered the chart in their faces, asked them if they could afford to break the treaty the very day they were bound a-treasure-hunting. "No, by thunder!" he cried. "It's us must break the treaty when the time comes; and till then I'll gammon that doctor, if I have to ile his boots with brandy." And then he bade them get the fire lit, and stalked out upon his crutch, with his hand on my shoulder, leaving them in a disarray, and silenced by his volubility rather than convinced. "Slow, lad, slow," he said. "They might round upon us in a twinkle of an eye if we was seen to hurry." Very deliberately, then, did we advance across the sand to where the doctor awaited us on the other side of the stockade, and as soon as we were within easy speaking distance Silver stopped. "You'll make a note of this here also, doctor," says he, "and the boy'll tell you how I saved his life, and were deposed for it too, and you may lay to that. Doctor, when a man's steering as near the wind as me-playing chuck-farthing with the last breath in his body, like - you wouldn't think it too much, mayhap, to give him one good word? You'll please bear in mind it's not my life only now - it's that boy's into the bargain; and you'll speak me fair, doctor, and give me a bit o' hope to go on, for the sake of mercy." Silver was a changed man once he was out there and had his back to his friends and the block house; his cheeks seemed to have fallen in, his voice trembled; never was a soul more dead in earnest. "Why, John, you're not afraid?" asked Dr. Livesey. "Doctor, I'm no coward; no, not I - not SO much!" and he snapped his fingers. "If I was I wouldn't say it. But I'll own up fairly, I've the shakes upon me for the gallows. You're a good man and a true; I never seen a better man! And you'll not forget what I done good, not any more than you'll forget the bad, I know. And I step aside - see here - and leave you and Jim alone. And you'll put that down for me too, for it's a long stretch, is that!" So saying, he stepped back a little way, till he was out of earshot, and there sat down upon a tree-stump and began to whistle, spinning round now and again upon his seat so as to command a sight, sometimes of me and the doctor and sometimes of his unruly ruffians as they went to and fro in the sand between the fire - which they were busy rekindling - and the house, from which they brought forth pork and bread to make the breakfast. "So, Jim," said the doctor sadly, "here you are. As you have brewed, so shall you drink, my boy. Heaven knows, I cannot find it in my heart to blame you, but this much I will say, be it kind or unkind: when Captain Smollett was well, you dared not have gone off; and when he was ill and couldn't help it, by George, it was downright cowardly!" I will own that I here began to weep. "Doctor," I said, "you might spare me. I have blamed myself enough; my life's forfeit anyway, and I should have been dead by now if Silver hadn't stood for me; and doctor, believe this, I can die - and I dare say I deserve it - but what I fear is torture. If they come to torture me - " "Jim," the doctor interrupted, and his voice was quite changed, "Jim, I can't have this. Whip over, and we'll run for it." "Doctor," said I, "I passed my word." "I know, I know," he cried. "We can't help that, Jim, now. I'll take it on my shoulders, holus bolus, blame and shame, my boy; but stay here, I cannot let you. Jump! One jump, and you're out, and we'll run for it like antelopes." "No," I replied; "you know right well you wouldn't do the thing yourself - neither you nor squire nor captain; and no more will I. Silver trusted me; I passed my word, and back I go. But, doctor, you did not let me finish. If they come to torture me, I might let slip a word of where the ship is, for I got the ship, part by luck and part by risking, and she lies in North Inlet, on the southern beach, and just below high water. At half tide she must be high and dry." "The ship!" exclaimed the doctor. Rapidly I described to him my adventures, and he heard me out in silence. "There is a kind of fate in this," he observed when I had done. "Every step, it's you that saves our lives; and do you suppose by any chance that we are going to let you lose yours? That would be a poor return, my boy. You found out the plot; you found Ben Gunn - the best deed that ever you did, or will do, though you live to ninety. Oh, by Jupiter, and talking of Ben Gunn! Why, this is the mischief in person. Silver!" he cried. "Silver! I'll give you a piece of advice," he continued as the cook drew near again; "don't you be in any great hurry after that treasure." "Why, sir, I do my possible, which that ain't," said Silver. "I can only, asking your pardon, save my life and the boy's by seeking for that treasure; and you may lay to that." "Well, Silver," replied the doctor, "if that is so, I'll go one step further: look out for squalls when you find it." "Sir," said Silver, "as between man and man, that's too much and too little. What you're after, why you left the block house, why you given me that there chart, I don't know, now, do I? And yet I done your bidding with my eyes shut and never a word of hope! But no, this here's too much. If you won't tell me what you mean plain out, just say so and I'll leave the helm." "No," said the doctor musingly; "I've no right to say more; it's not my secret, you see, Silver, or, I give you my word, I'd tell it you. But I'll go as far with you as I dare go, and a step beyond, for I'll have my wig sorted by the captain or I'm mistaken! And first, I'll give you a bit of hope; Silver, if we both get alive out of this wolf-trap, I'll do my best to save you, short of perjury." Silver's face was radiant. "You couldn't say more, I'm sure, sir, not if you was my mother," he cried. "Well, that's my first concession," added the doctor. "My second is a piece of advice: keep the boy close beside you, and when you need help, halloo. I'm off to seek it for you, and that itself will show you if I speak at random. Good-bye, Jim." And Dr. Livesey shook hands with me through the stockade, nodded to Silver, and set off at a brisk pace into the wood.
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