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

that faked the chart from Billy Bones. First

and last, we’ve split upon Jim Hawkins!”

 

“Then here goes!” said Morgan with an oath.

 

And he sprang up, drawing his knife as if he had

been twenty.

 

“Avast, there!” cried Silver. “Who are you, Tom

Morgan? Maybe you thought you was cap’n here, perhaps.

By the powers, but I’ll teach you better! Cross me,

and you’ll go where many a good man’s gone before you,

first and last, these thirty year back—some to the

yard-arm, shiver my timbers, and some by the board, and

all to feed the fishes. There’s never a man looked me

between the eyes and seen a good day a’terwards, Tom

Morgan, you may lay to that.”

 

Morgan paused, but a hoarse murmur rose from the others.

 

“Tom’s right,” said one.

 

“I stood hazing long enough from one,” added another.

“I’ll be hanged if I’ll be hazed by you, John Silver.”

 

“Did any of you gentlemen want to have it out with ME?”

roared Silver, bending far forward from his

position on the keg, with his pipe still glowing in his

right hand. “Put a name on what you’re at; you ain’t

dumb, I reckon. Him that wants shall get it. Have I

lived this many years, and a son of a rum puncheon cock

his hat athwart my hawse at the latter end of it? You

know the way; you’re all gentlemen o’ fortune, by your

account. Well, I’m ready. Take a cutlass, him that

dares, and I’ll see the colour of his inside, crutch

and all, before that pipe’s empty.”

 

Not a man stirred; not a man answered.

 

“That’s your sort, is it?” he added, returning his pipe

to his mouth. “Well, you’re a gay lot to look at,

anyway. Not much worth to fight, you ain’t. P’r’aps

you can understand King George’s English. I’m cap’n

here by ‘lection. I’m cap’n here because I’m the best

man by a long sea-mile. You won’t fight, as gentlemen

o’ fortune should; then, by thunder, you’ll obey, and

you may lay to it! I like that boy, now; I never seen

a better boy than that. He’s more a man than any pair

of rats of you in this here house, and what I say is

this: let me see him that’ll lay a hand on him—that’s

what I say, and you may lay to it.”

 

There was a long pause after this. I stood straight up

against the wall, my heart still going like a sledge-hammer, but with a ray of hope now shining in my bosom.

Silver leant back against the wall, his arms crossed, his

pipe in the corner of his mouth, as calm as though he had

been in church; yet his eye kept wandering furtively, and

he kept the tail of it on his unruly followers. They, on

their part, drew gradually together towards the far end of

the block house, and the low hiss of their whispering sounded

in my ear continuously, like a stream. One after another,

they would look up, and the red light of the torch would

fall for a second on their nervous faces; but it was not

towards me, it was towards Silver that they turned their eyes.

 

“You seem to have a lot to say,” remarked Silver,

spitting far into the air. “Pipe up and let me hear

it, or lay to.”

 

“Ax your pardon, sir,” returned one of the men; “you’re

pretty free with some of the rules; maybe you’ll kindly

keep an eye upon the rest. This crew’s dissatisfied;

this crew don’t vally bullying a marlin-spike; this

crew has its rights like other crews, I’ll make so free

as that; and by your own rules, I take it we can talk

together. I ax your pardon, sir, acknowledging you for

to be captaing at this present; but I claim my right,

and steps outside for a council.”

 

And with an elaborate sea-salute, this fellow, a long,

ill-looking, yellow-eyed man of five and thirty,

stepped coolly towards the door and disappeared out of

the house. One after another the rest followed his

example, each making a salute as he passed, each adding

some apology. “According to rules,” said one.

“Forecastle council,” said Morgan. And so with one

remark or another all marched out and left Silver and

me alone with the torch.

 

The sea-cook instantly removed his pipe.

 

“Now, look you here, Jim Hawkins,” he said in a steady

whisper that was no more than audible, “you’re within

half a plank of death, and what’s a long sight worse,

of torture. They’re going to throw me off. But, you

mark, I stand by you through thick and thin. I didn’t

mean to; no, not till you spoke up. I was about

desperate to lose that much blunt, and be hanged into

the bargain. But I see you was the right sort. I says

to myself, you stand by Hawkins, John, and Hawkins’ll

stand by you. You’re his last card, and by the living

thunder, John, he’s yours! Back to back, says I. You

save your witness, and he’ll save your neck!”

 

I began dimly to understand.

 

“You mean all’s lost?” I asked.

 

“Aye, by gum, I do!” he answered. “Ship gone, neck gone

—that’s the size of it. Once I looked into that bay, Jim

Hawkins, and seen no schooner—well, I’m tough, but I gave

out. As for that lot and their council, mark me, they’re

outright fools and cowards. I’ll save your life—if so be

as I can—from them. But, see here, Jim—tit for tat—you

save Long John from swinging.”

 

I was bewildered; it seemed a thing so hopeless he was

asking—he, the old buccaneer, the ringleader throughout.

 

“What I can do, that I’ll do,” I said.

 

“It’s a bargain!” cried Long John. “You speak up

plucky, and by thunder, I’ve a chance!”

 

He hobbled to the torch, where it stood propped among

the firewood, and took a fresh light to his pipe.

 

“Understand me, Jim,” he said, returning. “I’ve a head

on my shoulders, I have. I’m on squire’s side now. I

know you’ve got that ship safe somewheres. How you

done it, I don’t know, but safe it is. I guess Hands

and O’Brien turned soft. I never much believed in

neither of THEM. Now you mark me. I ask no questions,

nor I won’t let others. I know when a game’s up, I do;

and I know a lad that’s staunch. Ah, you that’s young—

you and me might have done a power of good together!”

 

He drew some cognac from the cask into a tin cannikin.

 

“Will you taste, messmate?” he asked; and when I had

refused: “Well, I’ll take a drain myself, Jim,” said

he. “I need a caulker, for there’s trouble on hand.

And talking o’ trouble, why did that doctor give me the

chart, Jim?”

 

My face expressed a wonder so unaffected that he saw

the needlessness of further questions.

 

“Ah, well, he did, though,” said he. “And there’s

something under that, no doubt—something, surely,

under that, Jim—bad or good.”

 

And he took another swallow of the brandy, shaking his

great fair head like a man who looks forward to the worst.

 

29

 

The Black Spot Again

 

THE council of buccaneers had lasted some time, when

one of them re-entered the house, and with a repetition

of the same salute, which had in my eyes an ironical

air, begged for a moment’s loan of the torch. Silver

briefly agreed, and this emissary retired again,

leaving us together in the dark.

 

“There’s a breeze coming, Jim,” said Silver, who had by

this time adopted quite a friendly and familiar tone.

 

I turned to the loophole nearest me and looked out.

The embers of the great fire had so far burned

themselves out and now glowed so low and duskily that I

understood why these conspirators desired a torch.

About half-way down the slope to the stockade, they

were collected in a group; one held the light, another

was on his knees in their midst, and I saw the blade of

an open knife shine in his hand with varying colours in

the moon and torchlight. The rest were all somewhat

stooping, as though watching the manoeuvres of this last.

I could just make out that he had a book as well as a

knife in his hand, and was still wondering how anything

so incongruous had come in their possession when the

kneeling figure rose once more to his feet and the whole

party began to move together towards the house.

 

“Here they come,” said I; and I returned to my former

position, for it seemed beneath my dignity that they

should find me watching them.

 

“Well, let ‘em come, lad—let ‘em come,” said Silver

cheerily. “I’ve still a shot in my locker.”

 

The door opened, and the five men, standing huddled

together just inside, pushed one of their number

forward. In any other circumstances it would have been

comical to see his slow advance, hesitating as he set

down each foot, but holding his closed right hand in

front of him.

 

“Step up, lad,” cried Silver. “I won’t eat you. Hand

it over, lubber. I know the rules, I do; I won’t hurt

a depytation.”

 

Thus encouraged, the buccaneer stepped forth more

briskly, and having passed something to Silver, from

hand to hand, slipped yet more smartly back again to

his companions.

 

The sea-cook looked at what had been given him.

 

“The black spot! I thought so,” he observed. “Where

might you have got the paper? Why, hillo! Look here,

now; this ain’t lucky! You’ve gone and cut this out of

a Bible. What fool’s cut a Bible?”

 

“Ah, there!” said Morgan. “There! Wot did I say? No

good’ll come o’ that, I said.”

 

“Well, you’ve about fixed it now, among you,” continued

Silver. “You’ll all swing now, I reckon. What soft-headed lubber had a Bible?”

 

“It was Dick,” said one.

 

“Dick, was it? Then Dick can get to prayers,” said

Silver. “He’s seen his slice of luck, has Dick, and

you may lay to that.”

 

But here the long man with the yellow eyes struck in.

 

“Belay that talk, John Silver,” he said. “This crew

has tipped you the black spot in full council, as in

dooty bound; just you turn it over, as in dooty bound,

and see what’s wrote there. Then you can talk.”

 

“Thanky, George,” replied the sea-cook. “You always

was brisk for business, and has the rules by heart,

George, as I’m pleased to see. Well, what is it,

anyway? Ah! ‘Deposed’—that’s it, is it? Very pretty

wrote, to be sure; like print, I swear. Your hand o’

write, George? Why, you was gettin’ quite a leadin’

man in this here crew. You’ll be cap’n next, I

shouldn’t wonder. Just oblige me with that torch

again, will you? This pipe don’t draw.”

 

“Come, now,” said George, “you don’t fool this crew no

more. You’re a funny man, by your account; but you’re

over now, and you’ll maybe step down off that barrel

and help vote.”

 

“I thought you said you knowed the rules,” returned

Silver contemptuously. “Leastways, if you don’t, I do;

and I wait here—and I’m still your cap’n, mind—till

you outs with your grievances and I reply; in the

meantime, your black spot ain’t worth a biscuit. After

that, we’ll see.”

 

“Oh,” replied George, “you don’t be under no kind of

apprehension; WE’RE all square, we are. First,

you’ve made a hash of this cruise—you’ll be a bold man

to say no to that. Second, you let the enemy out o’

this here trap for nothing. Why did they want