Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson (best ebook reader txt) 📗
- Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
- Performer: 0451527046
Book online «Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson (best ebook reader txt) 📗». Author Robert Louis Stevenson
and crawled, without a sound, towards the corner of the
house. As I drew nearer, my heart was suddenly and
greatly lightened. It is not a pleasant noise in
itself, and I have often complained of it at other
times, but just then it was like music to hear my
friends snoring together so loud and peaceful in their
sleep. The sea-cry of the watch, that beautiful “All’s
well,” never fell more reassuringly on my ear.
In the meantime, there was no doubt of one thing; they
kept an infamous bad watch. If it had been Silver and
his lads that were now creeping in on them, not a soul
would have seen daybreak. That was what it was,
thought I, to have the captain wounded; and again I
blamed myself sharply for leaving them in that danger
with so few to mount guard.
By this time I had got to the door and stood up. All
was dark within, so that I could distinguish nothing by
the eye. As for sounds, there was the steady drone of
the snorers and a small occasional noise, a flickering
or pecking that I could in no way account for.
With my arms before me I walked steadily in. I should
lie down in my own place (I thought with a silent chuckle)
and enjoy their faces when they found me in the morning.
My foot struck something yielding—it was a sleeper’s
leg; and he turned and groaned, but without awaking.
And then, all of a sudden, a shrill voice broke forth
out of the darkness:
“Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!
Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!” and so forth, without
pause or change, like the clacking of a tiny mill.
Silver’s green parrot, Captain Flint! It was she whom
I had heard pecking at a piece of bark; it was she,
keeping better watch than any human being, who thus
announced my arrival with her wearisome refrain.
I had no time left me to recover. At the sharp,
clipping tone of the parrot, the sleepers awoke and
sprang up; and with a mighty oath, the voice of Silver
cried, “Who goes?”
I turned to run, struck violently against one person,
recoiled, and ran full into the arms of a second, who
for his part closed upon and held me tight.
“Bring a torch, Dick,” said Silver when my capture was
thus assured.
And one of the men left the log-house and presently
returned with a lighted brand.
Captain Silver
28
In the Enemy’s Camp
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
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