Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson (free novels txt) đ
- Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
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âAnd can you trust your missis?â asked the other.
âGentlemen of fortune,â returned the cook, âusually trusts little among themselves, and right they are, you may lay to it. But I have a way with me, I have. When a mate brings a slip on his cableâone as knows me, I meanâit wonât be in the same world with old John. There was some that was feared of Pew, and some that was feared of Flint; but Flint his own self was feared of me. Feared he was, and proud. They was the roughest crew afloat, was Flintâs; the devil himself would have been feared to go to sea with them. Well now, I tell you, Iâm not a boasting man, and you seen yourself how easy I keep company, but when I was quartermaster, lambs wasnât the word for Flintâs old buccaneers. Ah, you may be sure of yourself in old Johnâs ship.â
âWell, I tell you now,â replied the lad, âI didnât half a quarter like the job till I had this talk with you, John; but thereâs my hand on it now.â
âAnd a brave lad you were, and smart too,â answered Silver, shaking hands so heartily that all the barrel shook, âand a finer figurehead for a gentleman of fortune I never clapped my eyes on.â
By this time I had begun to understand the meaning of their terms. By a âgentleman of fortuneâ they plainly meant neither more nor less than a common pirate, and the little scene that I had overheard was the last act in the corruption of one of the honest handsâperhaps of the last one left aboard. But on this point I was soon to be relieved, for Silver giving a little whistle, a third man strolled up and sat down by the party.
âDickâs square,â said Silver.
âOh, I knowâd Dick was square,â returned the voice of the coxswain, Israel Hands. âHeâs no fool, is Dick.â And he turned his quid and spat. âBut look here,â he went on, âhereâs what I want to know, Barbecue: how long are we a-going to stand off and on like a blessed bumboat? Iâve had aâmost enough oâ Capân Smollett; heâs hazed me long enough, by thunder! I want to go into that cabin, I do. I want their pickles and wines, and that.â
âIsrael,â said Silver, âyour head ainât much account, nor ever was. But youâre able to hear, I reckon; leastways, your ears is big enough. Now, hereâs what I say: youâll berth forward, and youâll live hard, and youâll speak soft, and youâll keep sober till I give the word; and you may lay to that, my son.â
âWell, I donât say no, do I?â growled the coxswain. âWhat I say is, when? Thatâs what I say.â
âWhen! By the powers!â cried Silver. âWell now, if you want to know, Iâll tell you when. The last moment I can manage, and thatâs when. Hereâs a first-rate seaman, Capân Smollett, sails the blessed ship for us. Hereâs this squire and doctor with a map and suchâI donât 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 weâll see. If I was sure of you all, sons of double Dutchmen, Iâd have Capân Smollett navigate us half-way back again before I struck.â
âWhy, weâre all seamen aboard here, I should think,â said the lad Dick.
âWeâre all forecastle hands, you mean,â snapped Silver. âWe can steer a course, but whoâs to set one? Thatâs what all you gentlemen split on, first and last. If I had my way, Iâd have Capân Smollett work us back into the trades at least; then weâd have no blessed miscalculations and a spoonful of water a day. But I know the sort you are. Iâll finish with âem at the island, as soonâs the bluntâs on board, and a pity it is. But youâre never happy till youâre drunk. Split my sides, Iâve a sick heart to sail with the likes of you!â
âEasy all, Long John,â cried Israel. âWhoâs a-crossinâ of you?â
âWhy, how many tall ships, think ye, now, have I seen laid aboard? And how many brisk lads drying in the sun at Execution Dock?â cried Silver. âAnd 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 onây lay your course, and a pâint to windward, you would ride in carriages, you would. But not you! I know you. Youâll have your mouthful of rum tomorrow, and go hang.â
âEverybody knowed you was a kind of a chapling, John; but thereâs others as could hand and steer as well as you,â said Israel. âThey liked a bit oâ fun, they did. They wasnât so high and dry, nohow, but took their fling, like jolly companions every one.â
âSo?â says Silver. âWell, 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! Onây, where are they?â
âBut,â asked Dick, âwhen we do lay âem athwart, what are we to do with âem, anyhow?â
âThereâs the man for me!â cried the cook admiringly. âThatâs what I call business. Well, what would you think? Put âem ashore like maroons? That would have been Englandâs way. Or cut âem down like that much pork? That would have been Flintâs, or Billy Bonesâs.â
âBilly was the man for that,â said Israel. ââDead men donât bite,â says he. Well, heâs dead now hisself; he knows the long and short on it now; and if ever a rough hand come to port, it was Billy.â
âRight you are,â said Silver; ârough and ready. But mark you here, Iâm an easy manâIâm quite the gentleman, says you; but this time itâs serious. Dooty is dooty, mates. I give my voteâdeath. When Iâm in Parlyment and riding in my coach, I donât 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!â
âJohn,â cries the coxswain, âyouâre a man!â
âYouâll say so, Israel when you see,â said Silver. âOnly one thing I claimâI claim Trelawney. Iâll wring his calfâs head off his body with these hands, Dick!â he added, breaking off. âYou just jump up, like a sweet lad, and get me an apple, to wet my pipe like.â
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, âOh, stow that! Donât you get sucking of that bilge, John. Letâs have a go of the rum.â
âDick,â said Silver, âI trust you. Iâve a gauge on the keg, mind. Thereâs the key; you fill a pannikin and bring it up.â
Terrified as I was, I could not help thinking to myself that this must
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