Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson (best ebook reader txt) 📗
- Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
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nor ever was. But you’re able to hear, I reckon;
leastways, your ears is big enough. Now, here’s what I
say: you’ll berth forward, and you’ll live hard, and
you’ll speak soft, and you’ll keep sober till I give
the word; and you may lay to that, my son.”
“Well, I don’t say no, do I?” growled the coxswain.
“What I say is, when? That’s what I say.”
“When! By the powers!” cried Silver. “Well now, if
you want to know, I’ll tell you when. The last moment
I can manage, and that’s when. Here’s a first-rate
seaman, Cap’n Smollett, sails the blessed ship for us.
Here’s this squire and doctor with a map and such—I
don’t know where it is, do I? No more do you, says
you. Well then, I mean this squire and doctor shall
find the stuff, and help us to get it aboard, by the
powers. Then we’ll see. If I was sure of you all,
sons of double Dutchmen, I’d have Cap’n Smollett
navigate us half-way back again before I struck.”
“Why, we’re all seamen aboard here, I should think,”
said the lad Dick.
“We’re all forecastle hands, you mean,” snapped Silver. “We
can steer a course, but who’s to set one? That’s what all you
gentlemen split on, first and last. If I had my way, I’d have
Cap’n Smollett work us back into the trades at least; then we’d
have no blessed miscalculations and a spoonful of water a day.
But I know the sort you are. I’ll finish with ‘em at the
island, as soon’s the blunt’s on board, and a pity it is. But
you’re never happy till you’re drunk. Split my sides, I’ve a
sick heart to sail with the likes of you!”
“Easy all, Long John,” cried Israel. “Who’s a-crossin’
of you?”
“Why, how many tall ships, think ye, now, have I seen
laid aboard? And how many brisk lads drying in the sun
at Execution Dock?” cried Silver. “And all for this
same hurry and hurry and hurry. You hear me? I seen a
thing or two at sea, I have. If you would on’y lay
your course, and a p’int to windward, you would ride in
carriages, you would. But not you! I know you. You’ll
have your mouthful of rum tomorrow, and go hang.”
“Everybody knowed you was a kind of a chapling, John;
but there’s others as could hand and steer as well as
you,” said Israel. “They liked a bit o’ fun, they did.
They wasn’t so high and dry, nohow, but took their
fling, like jolly companions every one.”
“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?”
“But,” asked Dick, “when we do lay ‘em athwart, what
are we to do with ‘em, anyhow?”
“There’s the man for me!” cried the cook admiringly.
“That’s what I call business. Well, what would you
think? Put ‘em ashore like maroons? That would have
been England’s way. Or cut ‘em down like that much
pork? That would have been Flint’s, or Billy Bones’s.”
“Billy was the man for that,” said Israel. “‘Dead men
don’t bite,’ says he. Well, he’s dead now hisself; he
knows the long and short on it now; and if ever a rough
hand come to port, it was Billy.”
“Right you are,” said Silver; “rough and ready. But
mark you here, I’m an easy man—I’m quite the
gentleman, says you; but this time it’s serious. Dooty
is dooty, mates. I give my vote—death. When I’m in
Parlyment and riding in my coach, I don’t want none of
these sea-lawyers in the cabin a-coming home, unlooked
for, like the devil at prayers. Wait is what I say;
but when the time comes, why, let her rip!”
“John,” cries the coxswain, “you’re a man!”
“You’ll say so, Israel when you see,” said Silver.
“Only one thing I claim—I claim Trelawney. I’ll wring
his calf’s head off his body with these hands, Dick!”
he added, breaking off. “You just jump up, like a
sweet lad, and get me an apple, to wet my pipe like.”
You may fancy the terror I was in! I should have
leaped out and run for it if I had found the strength,
but my limbs and heart alike misgave me. I heard Dick
begin to rise, and then someone seemingly stopped him,
and the voice of Hands exclaimed, “Oh, stow that!
Don’t you get sucking of that bilge, John. Let’s have
a go of the rum.”
“Dick,” said Silver, “I trust you. I’ve a gauge on the
keg, mind. There’s the key; you fill a pannikin and
bring it up.”
Terrified as I was, I could not help thinking to myself
that this must have been how Mr. Arrow got the strong
waters that destroyed him.
Dick was gone but a little while, and during his
absence Israel spoke straight on in the cook’s ear. It
was but a word or two that I could catch, and yet I
gathered some important news, for besides other scraps
that tended to the same purpose, this whole clause was
audible: “Not another man of them’ll jine.” Hence
there were still faithful men on board.
When Dick returned, one after another of the trio took
the pannikin and drank—one “To luck,” another with a
“Here’s to old Flint,” and Silver himself saying, in a
kind of song, “Here’s to ourselves, and hold your luff,
plenty of prizes and plenty of duff.”
Just then a sort of brightness fell upon me in the
barrel, and looking up, I found the moon had risen and
was silvering the mizzen-top and shining white on the
luff of the fore-sail; and almost at the same time the
voice of the lookout shouted, “Land ho!”
12
Council of War
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 southwest 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 half-frightened 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
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