Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson (chrome ebook reader .txt) š
- Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
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āCome, now,ā said George, āyou donāt fool this crew no more. Youāre a funny man, by your account; but youāre over now, and youāll maybe step down off that barrel and help vote.ā
āI thought you said you knowed the rules,ā returned Silver contemptuously. āLeastways, if you donāt, I do; and I wait hereāand Iām still your capān, mindātill you outs with your grievances and I reply; in the meantime, your black spot aināt worth a biscuit. After that, weāll see.ā
āOh,ā replied George, āyou donāt be under no kind of apprehension; weāre all square, we are. First, youāve made a hash of this cruiseāyouāll be a bold man to say no to that. Second, you let the enemy out oā this here trap for nothing. Why did they want out? I dunno, but itās pretty plain they wanted it. Third, you wouldnāt let us go at them upon the march. Oh, we see through you, John Silver; you want to play booty, thatās whatās wrong with you. And then, fourth, thereās this here boy.ā
āIs that all?ā asked Silver quietly.
āEnough, too,ā retorted George. āWeāll all swing and sun-dry for your bungling.ā
āWell now, look here, Iāll answer these four pāints; one after another Iāll answer āem. I made a hash oā this cruise, did I? Well now, you all know what I wanted, and you all know if that had been done that weād āa 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 capān? Who tipped me the black spot the day we landed and began this dance? Ah, itās a fine danceāIām with you thereāand looks mighty like a hornpipe in a ropeās end at Execution Dock by London town, it does. But who done it? Why, it was Anderson, and Hands, and you, George Merry! And youāre the last above board of that same meddling crew; and you have the Davy Jonesās insolence to up and stand for capān over meāyou, that sank the lot of us! By the powers! But this tops the stiffest yarn to nothing.ā
Silver paused, and I could see by the faces of George and his late comrades that these words had not been said in vain.
āThatās for number one,ā cried the accused, wiping the sweat from his brow, for he had been talking with a vehemence that shook the house. āWhy, I give you my word, Iām sick to speak to you. Youāve neither sense nor memory, and I leave it to fancy where your mothers was that let you come to sea. Sea! Gentlemen oā fortune! I reckon tailors is your trade.ā
āGo on, John,ā said Morgan. āSpeak up to the others.ā
āAh, the others!ā returned John. āTheyāre a nice lot, aināt they? You say this cruise is bungled. Ah! By gum, if you could understand how bad itās bungled, you would see! Weāre that near the gibbet that my neckās stiff with thinking on it. Youāve seen āem, maybe, hanged in chains, birds about āem, seamen pāinting āem out as they go down with the tide. āWhoās that?ā says one. āThat! Why, thatās John Silver. I knowed him well,ā says another. And you can hear the chains a-jangle as you go about and reach for the other buoy. Now, thatās about where we are, every motherās 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, isnāt he a hostage? Are we a-going to waste a hostage? No, not us; he might be our last chance, and I shouldnāt wonder. Kill that boy? Not me, mates! And number three? Ah, well, thereās a deal to say to number three. Maybe you donāt count it nothing to have a real college doctor to see you every dayāyou, John, with your head brokeāor 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 didnāt know there was a consort coming either? But there is, and not so long till then; and weāll see whoāll be glad to have a hostage when it comes to that. And as for number two, and why I made a bargaināwell, you came crawling on your knees to me to make itāon your knees you came, you was that downheartedāand youād have starved too if I hadnātābut thatās a trifle! You look thereāthatās why!ā
And he cast down upon the floor a paper that I instantly recognizedānone other than the chart on yellow paper, with the three red crosses, that I had found in the oilcloth at the bottom of the captainās 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.
āYes,ā said one, āthatās Flint, sure enough. J. F., and a score below, with a clove hitch to it; so he done ever.ā
āMighty pretty,ā said George. āBut how are we to get away with it, and us no ship.ā
Silver suddenly sprang up, and supporting himself with a hand against the wall: āNow I give you warning, George,ā he cried. āOne more word of your sauce, and Iāll call you down and fight you. How? Why, how do I know? You had ought to tell me thatāyou and the rest, that lost me my schooner, with your interference, burn you! But not you, you canāt; you haināt got the invention of a cockroach. But civil you can speak, and shall, George Merry, you may lay to that.ā
āThatās fair enow,ā said the old man Morgan.
āFair! I reckon so,ā said the sea-cook. āYou lost the ship; I found the treasure. Whoās the better man at that? And now I resign, by thunder! Elect whom you please to be your capān now; Iām done with it.ā
āSilver!ā they cried. āBarbecue forever! Barbecue for capān!ā
āSo thatās the toon, is it?ā cried the cook. āGeorge, I reckon youāll have to wait another turn, friend; and lucky for you as Iām not a revengeful man. But that was never my way. And now, shipmates, this black spot? āTaināt much good now, is it? Dickās crossed his luck and spoiled his Bible, and thatās about all.ā
āItāll do to kiss the book on still, wonāt it?ā growled Dick, who was evidently uneasy at the curse he had brought upon himself.
āA Bible with a bit cut out!ā returned Silver derisively. āNot it. It donāt bind no moreān a ballad-book.ā
āDonāt it, though?ā cried Dick with a sort of joy. āWell, I reckon thatās worth having too.ā
āHere, Jimāhereās a curāosity for you,ā said Silver, and he
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