Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson (the best electronic book reader .txt) đź“•
"Well," said he, "my mate Bill would be called the captain, as like as not. He has a cut on one cheek and a mighty pleasant way with him, particularly in drink, has my mate Bill. We'll put it, for argument like, that your captain has a cut on one cheek--and we'll put it, if you like, that that cheek's the right one. Ah, well! I told you. Now, is my mate Bill in this here house?"
I told him he was out walking.
"Which way, sonny? Which way is he gone?"
And when I had pointed out the rock and told him how the captain was likely to return, and how soon, and answered a few other questions, "Ah," said he, "this'll be as good as drink to my mate Bill."
The expression of his face as he said these words was not at all pleasant, and I had my own reasons for thinking that the stranger was mistaken, even supposing he meant what he said. But it was no affair of mine, I thought; and besides, it was difficult to know what to do. Th
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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.
My Shore Adventure
13
How My Shore Adventure Began
THE appearance of the island when I came on deck next
morning was altogether changed. Although the breeze
had now utterly ceased, we had made a great deal of way
during the night and were now lying becalmed about half
a mile to the south-east of the low eastern coast.
Grey-coloured woods covered a large part of the
surface. This even tint was indeed broken up by
streaks of yellow sand-break in the lower lands, and by
many tall trees of the pine family, out-topping the
others—some singly, some in clumps; but the general
colouring was uniform and sad. The hills ran up clear
above the vegetation in spires of naked rock. All were
strangely shaped, and the Spy-glass, which was by three
or four hundred feet the tallest on the island, was
likewise the strangest in configuration, running up
sheer from almost every side and then suddenly cut off
at the top like a pedestal to put a statue on.
The HISPANIOLA was rolling scuppers under in the
ocean swell. The booms were tearing at the blocks, the
rudder was banging to and fro, and the whole ship
creaking, groaning, and jumping like a manufactory. I
had to cling tight to the backstay, and the world
turned giddily before my eyes, for though I was a good
enough sailor when there was way on, this standing
still and being rolled about like a bottle was a thing
I never learned to stand without a qualm or so, above
all in the morning, on an empty stomach.
Perhaps it was this—perhaps it was the look of the
island, with its grey, melancholy woods, and wild stone
spires, and the surf that we could both see and hear
foaming and thundering on the steep beach—at least,
although the sun shone bright and hot, and the shore
birds were fishing and crying all around us, and you
would have thought anyone would have been glad to get
to land after being so long at sea, my heart sank, as
the saying is, into my boots; and from the first look
onward, I hated the very thought of Treasure Island.
We had a dreary morning’s work before us, for there was
no sign of any wind, and the boats had to be got out
and manned, and the ship warped three or four miles
round the corner of the island and up the narrow
passage to the haven behind Skeleton Island. I
volunteered for one of the boats, where I had, of
course, no business. The heat was sweltering, and the
men grumbled fiercely over their work. Anderson was in
command of my boat, and instead of keeping the crew in
order, he grumbled as loud as the worst.
“Well,” he said with an oath, “it’s not forever.”
I thought this was a very bad sign, for up to that day
the men had gone briskly and willingly about their
business; but the very sight of the island had relaxed
the cords of discipline.
All the way in, Long John stood by the steersman and
conned the ship. He knew the passage like the palm of
his hand, and though the man in the chains got
everywhere more water than was down in the chart, John
never hesitated once.
“There’s a strong scour with the ebb,” he said, “and
this here passage has been dug out, in a manner of
speaking, with a spade.”
We brought up just where the anchor was in the chart,
about a third of a mile from each shore, the mainland
on one side and Skeleton Island on the other. The
bottom was clean sand. The plunge of our anchor sent
up clouds of birds wheeling and crying over the woods,
but in less than a minute they were down again and all
was once more silent.
The place was entirely land-locked, buried in woods,
the trees coming right down to high-water mark, the
shores mostly flat, and the hilltops standing round at
a distance in a sort of amphitheatre, one here, one
there. Two little rivers, or rather two swamps,
emptied out into this pond, as you might call it; and
the foliage round that part of the shore had a kind of
poisonous brightness. From the ship we could see
nothing of the house or stockade, for they were quite
buried among trees; and if it had not been for the
chart on the companion, we might have been the first
that had ever anchored there since the island arose out
of the seas.
There was not a breath of air moving, nor a sound but that
of the surf booming half a mile away along the beaches and
against the rocks outside. A peculiar stagnant smell hung
over the anchorage—a smell of sodden leaves and rotting
tree trunks. I observed the doctor sniffing and sniffing,
like someone tasting a bad egg.
“I don’t know about treasure,” he said, “but I’ll stake
my wig there’s fever here.”
If the conduct of the men had been alarming in the
boat, it became truly threatening when they had come
aboard. They lay about the deck growling together in
talk. The slightest order was received with a black
look and grudgingly and carelessly obeyed. Even the
honest hands must have caught the infection, for there
was not one man aboard to mend another. Mutiny, it was
plain, hung over us like a thunder-cloud.
And it was not only we of the cabin party who perceived
the danger. Long John was hard at work going from
group to group, spending himself in good advice, and as
for example no man could have shown a better. He
fairly outstripped himself in willingness and civility;
he was all smiles to everyone. If an order were given,
John would be on his crutch in an instant, with the
cheeriest “Aye, aye, sir!” in the world; and when there
was nothing else to do, he kept up one song after
another, as if to conceal the discontent of the rest.
Of all the gloomy features of that gloomy afternoon, this
obvious anxiety on the part of Long John appeared the worst.
We held a council in the cabin.
“Sir,” said the captain, “if I risk another order, the
whole ship’ll come about our ears by the run. You see,
sir, here it is. I get a rough answer, do I not? Well,
if I
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