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said; ā€œand youā€™re all in a

clove hitch, ainā€™t you? Well, you just put your trust

in Ben Gunnā€”Ben Gunnā€™s the man to do it. Would you

think it likely, now, that your squire would prove a

liberal-minded one in case of helpā€”him being in a

clove hitch, as you remark?ā€

 

I told him the squire was the most liberal of men.

 

ā€œAye, but you see,ā€ returned Ben Gunn, ā€œI didnā€™t mean

giving me a gate to keep, and a suit of livery clothes,

and such; thatā€™s not my mark, Jim. What I mean is,

would he be likely to come down to the toon of, say one

thousand pounds out of money thatā€™s as good as a manā€™s

own already?ā€

 

ā€œI am sure he would,ā€ said I. ā€œAs it was, all hands

were to share.ā€

 

ā€œAND a passage home?ā€ he added with a look of great

shrewdness.

 

ā€œWhy,ā€ I cried, ā€œthe squireā€™s a gentleman. And

besides, if we got rid of the others, we should want

you to help work the vessel home.ā€

 

ā€œAh,ā€ said he, ā€œso you would.ā€ And he seemed very much

relieved.

 

ā€œNow, Iā€™ll tell you what,ā€ he went on. ā€œSo much Iā€™ll

tell you, and no more. I were in Flintā€™s ship when he

buried the treasure; he and six alongā€”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 deadā€”dead and buried. How he done it, not

a man aboard us could make out. It was battle, murder,

and sudden death, leastwaysā€”him against six. Billy

Bones was the mate; Long John, he was quartermaster;

and they asked him where the treasure was. ā€˜Ah,ā€™ says

he, ā€˜you can go ashore, if you like, and stay,ā€™ he

says; ā€˜but as for the ship, sheā€™ll beat up for more, by

thunder!ā€™ Thatā€™s what he said.

 

ā€œWell, I was in another ship three years back, and we

sighted this island. ā€˜Boys,ā€™ said I, ā€˜hereā€™s Flintā€™s

treasure; letā€™s land and find it.ā€™ The capā€™n was

displeased at that, but my messmates were all of a mind

and landed. Twelve days they looked for it, and every

day they had the worse word for me, until one fine

morning all hands went aboard. ā€˜As for you, Benjamin

Gunn,ā€™ says they, ā€˜hereā€™s a musket,ā€™ they says, ā€˜and a

spade, and pick-axe. You can stay here and find

Flintā€™s money for yourself,ā€™ they says.

 

ā€œWell, Jim, three years have I been here, and not a bite

of Christian diet from that day to this. But now, you

look here; look at me. Do I look like a man before the

mast? No, says you. Nor I werenā€™t, neither, I says.ā€

 

And with that he winked and pinched me hard.

 

ā€œJust you mention them words to your squire, Jim,ā€ he went

on. ā€œNor he werenā€™t, neitherā€”thatā€™s the words. Three

years he were the man of this island, light and dark, fair

and rain; and sometimes he would maybe think upon a prayer

(says you), and sometimes he would maybe think of his old

mother, so be as sheā€™s alive (youā€™ll say); but the most

part of Gunnā€™s time (this is what youā€™ll say)ā€”the most

part of his time was took up with another matter. And

then youā€™ll give him a nip, like I do.ā€

 

And he pinched me again in the most confidential manner.

 

ā€œThen,ā€ he continued, ā€œthen youā€™ll up, and youā€™ll say

this: Gunn is a good man (youā€™ll say), and he puts a

precious sight more confidenceā€”a precious sight, mind

thatā€”in a genā€™leman born than in these genā€™leman of

fortune, having been one hisself.ā€

 

ā€œWell,ā€ I said, ā€œI donā€™t understand one word that

youā€™ve been saying. But thatā€™s neither here nor there;

for how am I to get on board?ā€

 

ā€œAh,ā€ said he, ā€œthatā€™s the hitch, for sure. Well,

thereā€™s my boat, that I made with my two hands. I keep

her under the white rock. If the worst come to the

worst, we might try that after dark. Hi!ā€ he broke

out. ā€œWhatā€™s that?ā€

 

For just then, although the sun had still an hour or

two to run, all the echoes of the island awoke and

bellowed to the thunder of a cannon.

 

ā€œThey have begun to fight!ā€ I cried. ā€œFollow me.ā€

 

And I began to run towards the anchorage, my terrors

all forgotten, while close at my side the marooned man

in his goatskins trotted easily and lightly.

 

ā€œLeft, left,ā€ says he; ā€œkeep to your left hand, mate

Jim! Under the trees with you! Theerā€™s where I killed

my first goat. They donā€™t come down here now; theyā€™re

all mastheaded on them mountings for the fear of

Benjamin Gunn. Ah! And thereā€™s the cetemeryā€ā€”

cemetery, he must have meant. ā€œYou see the mounds? I

come here and prayed, nows and thens, when I thought

maybe a Sunday would be about doo. It werenā€™t quite a

chapel, but it seemed more solemn like; and then, says

you, Ben Gunn was short-handedā€”no chapling, nor so

much as a Bible and a flag, you says.ā€

 

So he kept talking as I ran, neither expecting nor

receiving any answer.

 

The cannon-shot was followed after a considerable

interval by a volley of small arms.

 

Another pause, and then, not a quarter of a mile in

front of me, I beheld the Union Jack flutter in the air

above a wood.

PART FOUR

The Stockade

 

16

 

Narrative Continued by the Doctor: How the

Ship Was Abandoned

 

IT was about half past oneā€”three bells in the sea

phraseā€”that the two boats went ashore from the

HISPANIOLA. The captain, the squire, and I were

talking matters over in the cabin. Had there been a

breath of wind, we should have fallen on the six

mutineers who were left aboard with us, slipped our

cable, and away to sea. But the wind was wanting; and

to complete our helplessness, down came Hunter with the

news that Jim Hawkins had slipped into a boat and was

gone ashore with the rest.

 

It never occurred to us to doubt Jim Hawkins, but we

were alarmed for his safety. With the men in the

temper they were in, it seemed an even chance if we

should see the lad again. We ran on deck. The pitch

was bubbling in the seams; the nasty stench of the

place turned me sick; if ever a man smelt fever and

dysentery, it was in that abominable anchorage. The

six scoundrels were sitting grumbling under a sail in

the forecastle; ashore we could see the gigs made fast

and a man sitting in each, hard by where the river runs

in. One of them was whistling ā€œLillibullero.ā€

 

Waiting was a strain, and it was decided that Hunter

and I should go ashore with the jolly-boat in quest

of information.

 

The gigs had leaned to their right, but Hunter and I

pulled straight in, in the direction of the stockade

upon the chart. The two who were left guarding their

boats seemed in a bustle at our appearance; ā€œLillibulleroā€

stopped off, and I could see the pair discussing what

they ought to do. Had they gone and told Silver, all

might have turned out differently; but they had their

orders, I suppose, and decided to sit quietly where

they were and hark back again to ā€œLillibullero.ā€

 

There was a slight bend in the coast, and I steered so

as to put it between us; even before we landed we had

thus lost sight of the gigs. I jumped out and came as

near running as I durst, with a big silk handkerchief

under my hat for coolnessā€™ sake and a brace of pistols

ready primed for safety.

 

I had not gone a hundred yards when I reached the stockade.

 

This was how it was: a spring of clear water rose

almost at the top of a knoll. Well, on the knoll, and

enclosing the spring, they had clapped a stout log-house fit to hold two score of people on a pinch and

loopholed for musketry on either side. All round this

they had cleared a wide space, and then the thing was

completed by a paling six feet high, without door or

opening, too strong to pull down without time and

labour and too open to shelter the besiegers. The

people in the log-house had them in every way; they

stood quiet in shelter and shot the others like

partridges. All they wanted was a good watch and food;

for, short of a complete surprise, they might have held

the place against a regiment.

 

What particularly took my fancy was the spring. For

though we had a good enough place of it in the cabin of

the HISPANIOLA, with plenty of arms and ammunition,

and things to eat, and excellent wines, there had been

one thing overlookedā€”we had no water. I was thinking

this over when there came ringing over the island the

cry of a man at the point of death. I was not new to

violent deathā€”I have served his Royal Highness the

Duke of Cumberland, and got a wound myself at Fontenoyā€”

but I know my pulse went dot and carry one. ā€œJim

Hawkins is gone,ā€ was my first thought.

 

It is something to have been an old soldier, but more

still to have been a doctor. There is no time to

dilly-dally in our work. And so now I made up my mind

instantly, and with no time lost returned to the shore

and jumped on board the jolly-boat.

 

By good fortune Hunter pulled a good oar. We made the

water fly, and the boat was soon alongside and I aboard

the schooner.

 

I found them all shaken, as was natural. The squire

was sitting down, as white as a sheet, thinking of the

harm he had led us to, the good soul! And one of the

six forecastle hands was little better.

 

ā€œThereā€™s a man,ā€ says Captain Smollett, nodding towards

him, ā€œnew to this work. He came nigh-hand fainting,

doctor, when he heard the cry. Another touch of the

rudder and that man would join us.ā€

 

I told my plan to the captain, and between us we

settled on the details of its accomplishment.

 

We put old Redruth in the gallery between the cabin and

the forecastle, with three or four loaded muskets and a

mattress for protection. Hunter brought the boat round

under the stern-port, and Joyce and I set to work

loading her with powder tins, muskets, bags of

biscuits, kegs of pork, a cask of cognac, and my

invaluable medicine chest.

 

In the meantime, the squire and the captain stayed on

deck, and the latter hailed the coxswain, who was the

principal man aboard.

 

ā€œMr. Hands,ā€ he said, ā€œhere are two of us with a brace

of pistols each. If any one of you six make a signal

of any description, that manā€™s dead.ā€

 

They were a good deal taken aback, and after a little

consultation one and all tumbled down the fore

companion, thinking no doubt to take us on the rear.

But when they saw Redruth waiting for them in the

sparred galley, they went about ship at once, and a

head popped out again on deck.

 

ā€œDown, dog!ā€ cries the captain.

 

And the head popped back again; and we heard no more,

for the time, of these six very faint-hearted seamen.

 

By this time, tumbling things in as they

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