Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson (the top 100 crime novels of all time TXT) 📖

account,

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