“Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!”
And at the third “Ho!” drove the bars before them with a will.
Even at that exciting moment it carried me back to the old Admiral
Benbow in a second, and I seemed to hear the voice of the captain piping
in the chorus. But soon the anchor was short up; soon it was hanging
dripping at the bows; soon the sails began to draw, and the land and
shipping to flit by on either side; and before I could lie down to
snatch an hour of slumber the HISPANIOLA had begun her voyage to the
Isle of Treasure.
I am not going to relate that voyage in detail. It was fairly
prosperous. The ship proved to be a good ship, the crew were capable
seamen, and the captain thoroughly understood his business. But before
we came the length of Treasure Island, two or three things had happened
which require to be known.
Mr. Arrow, first of all, turned out even worse than the captain had
feared. He had no command among the men, and people did what they
pleased with him. But that was by no means the worst of it, for after a
day or two at sea he began to appear on deck with hazy eye, red cheeks,
stuttering tongue, and other marks of drunkenness. Time after time
he was ordered below in disgrace. Sometimes he fell and cut himself;
sometimes he lay all day long in his little bunk at one side of the
companion; sometimes for a day or two he would be almost sober and
attend to his work at least passably.
In the meantime, we could never make out where he got the drink. That
was the ship’s mystery. Watch him as we pleased, we could do nothing to
solve it; and when we asked him to his face, he would only laugh if
he were drunk, and if he were sober deny solemnly that he ever tasted
anything but water.
He was not only useless as an officer and a bad influence amongst
the men, but it was plain that at this rate he must soon kill himself
outright, so nobody was much surprised, nor very sorry, when one dark
night, with a head sea, he disappeared entirely and was seen no more.
“Overboard!” said the captain. “Well, gentlemen, that saves the trouble
of putting him in irons.”
But there we were, without a mate; and it was necessary, of course, to
advance one of the men. The boatswain, Job Anderson, was the likeliest
man aboard, and though he kept his old title, he served in a way as
mate. Mr. Trelawney had followed the sea, and his knowledge made him
very useful, for he often took a watch himself in easy weather. And the
coxswain, Israel Hands, was a careful, wily, old, experienced seaman who
could be trusted at a pinch with almost anything.
He was a great confidant of Long John Silver, and so the mention of
his name leads me on to speak of our ship’s cook, Barbecue, as the men
called him.
Aboard ship he carried his crutch by a lanyard round his neck, to have
both hands as free as possible. It was something to see him wedge the
foot of the crutch against a bulkhead, and propped against it, yielding
to every movement of the ship, get on with his cooking like someone safe
ashore. Still more strange was it to see him in the heaviest of weather
cross the deck. He had a line or two rigged up to help him across the
widest spaces--Long John’s earrings, they were called; and he would hand
himself from one place to another, now using the crutch, now trailing it
alongside by the lanyard, as quickly as another man could walk. Yet some
of the men who had sailed with him before expressed their pity to see
him so reduced.
“He’s no common man, Barbecue,” said the coxswain to me. “He had good
schooling in his young days and can speak like a book when so minded;
and brave--a lion’s nothing alongside of Long John! I seen him grapple
four and knock their heads together--him unarmed.”
All the crew respected and even obeyed him. He had a way of talking
to each and doing everybody some particular service. To me he was
unweariedly kind, and always glad to see me in the galley, which he kept
as clean as a new pin, the dishes hanging up burnished and his parrot in
a cage in one corner.
“Come away, Hawkins,” he would say; “come and have a yarn with John.
Nobody more welcome than yourself, my son. Sit you down and hear the
news. Here’s Cap’n Flint--I calls my parrot Cap’n Flint, after the
famous buccaneer--here’s Cap’n Flint predicting success to our v’yage.
Wasn’t you, Cap’n?”
And the parrot would say, with great rapidity, “Pieces of eight! Pieces
of eight! Pieces of eight!” till you wondered that it was not out of
breath, or till John threw his handkerchief over the cage.
“Now, that bird,” he would say, “is, maybe, two hundred years
old, Hawkins--they live forever mostly; and if anybody’s seen more
wickedness, it must be the devil himself. She’s sailed with England,
the great Cap’n England, the pirate. She’s been at Madagascar, and at
Malabar, and Surinam, and Providence, and Portobello. She was at the
fishing up of the wrecked plate ships. It’s there she learned ‘Pieces
of eight,’ and little wonder; three hundred and fifty thousand of ’em,
Hawkins! She was at the boarding of the _Viceroy of the Indies_ out of
Goa, she was; and to look at her you would think she was a babby. But
you smelt powder--didn’t you, Cap’n?”
“Stand by to go about,” the parrot would scream.
“Ah, she’s a handsome craft, she is,” the cook would say, and give her
sugar from his pocket, and then the bird would peck at the bars and
swear straight on, passing belief for wickedness. “There,” John would
add, “you can’t touch pitch and not be mucked, lad. Here’s this poor old
innocent bird o’ mine swearing blue fire, and none the wiser, you may
lay to that. She would swear the same, in a manner of speaking, before
chaplain.” And John would touch his forelock with a solemn way he had
that made me think he was the best of men.
In the meantime, the squire and Captain Smollett were still on pretty
distant terms with one another. The squire made no bones about the
matter; he despised the captain. The captain, on his part, never spoke
but when he was spoken to, and then sharp and short and dry, and not a
word wasted. He owned, when driven into a corner, that he seemed to have
been wrong about the crew, that some of them were as brisk as he wanted
to see and all had behaved fairly well. As for the ship, he had taken a
downright fancy to her. “She’ll lie a point nearer the wind than a man
has a right to expect of his own married wife, sir. But,” he would add,
“all I say is, we’re not home again, and I don’t like the cruise.”
The squire, at this, would turn away and march up and down the deck,
chin in air.
“A trifle more of that man,” he would say, “and I shall explode.”
We had some heavy weather, which only proved the qualities of the
HISPANIOLA. Every man on board seemed well content, and they must have
been hard to please if they had been otherwise, for it is my belief
there was never a ship’s company so spoiled since Noah put to sea.
Double grog was going on the least excuse; there was duff on odd days,
as, for instance, if the squire heard it was any man’s birthday, and
always a barrel of apples standing broached in the waist for anyone to
help himself that had a fancy.
“Never knew good come of it yet,” the captain said to Dr. Livesey.
“Spoil forecastle hands, make devils. That’s my belief.”
But good did come of the apple barrel, as you shall hear, for if it had
not been for that, we should have had no note of warning and might all
have perished by the hand of treachery.
This was how it came about.
We had run up the trades to get the wind of the island we were after--I
am not allowed to be more plain--and now we were running down for it
with a bright lookout day and night. It was about the last day of our
outward voyage by the largest computation; some time that night, or at
latest before noon of the morrow, we should sight the Treasure Island.
We were heading S.S.W. and had a steady breeze abeam and a quiet sea.
The HISPANIOLA rolled steadily, dipping her bowsprit now and then with
a whiff of spray. All was drawing alow and aloft; everyone was in the
bravest spirits because we were now so near an end of the first part of
our adventure.
Now, just after sundown, when all my work was over and I was on my way
to my berth, it occurred to me that I should like an apple. I ran on
deck. The watch was all forward looking out for the island. The man at
the helm was watching the luff of the sail and whistling away gently
to himself, and that was the only sound excepting the swish of the sea
against the bows and around the sides of the ship.
In I got bodily into the apple barrel, and found there was scarce an
apple left; but sitting down there in the dark, what with the sound of
the waters and the rocking movement of the ship, I had either fallen
asleep or was on the point of doing so when a heavy man sat down with
rather a clash close by. The barrel shook as he leaned his shoulders
against it, and I was just about to jump up when the man began to speak.
It was Silver’s voice, and before I had heard a dozen words, I would
not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trembling and
listening, in the extreme of fear and curiosity, for from these dozen
words I understood that the lives of all the honest men aboard depended
upon me alone.
XI
What I Heard in the Apple-Barrel
“No, not I,” said Silver. “Flint was cap’n; I was quartermaster, along
of my timber leg. The same broadside I lost my leg, old Pew lost his
deadlights. It was a master surgeon, him that ampytated me--out of
college and all--Latin by the bucket, and what not; but he was hanged
like a dog, and sun-dried like the rest, at Corso Castle. That was
Roberts’ men, that was, and comed of changing names to their
ships--ROYAL FORTUNE and so on. Now, what a ship was christened, so let
her stay, I says. So it was with the CASSANDRA, as brought us all safe
home from Malabar, after England took the _Viceroy of the Indies;_ so
it was with the old WALRUS, Flint’s old ship, as I’ve seen amuck with
the red blood and fit to sink with gold.”
“Ah!” cried another voice, that of the youngest hand on board, and
evidently full of admiration. “He was the flower of the flock, was
Flint!”
“Davis was a man too, by all accounts,” said Silver. “I never sailed
along of him; first with England, then with Flint, that’s my story;
and now here on my own account, in a manner of speaking. I laid by nine
hundred safe, from England, and two thousand after Flint. That ain’t bad
for a man before the mast--all safe in bank. ’Tain’t earning now, it’s
saving does it, you may lay to that. Where’s all England’s men now? I
dunno. Where’s Flint’s? Why, most on ’em aboard here, and glad to get
the duff--been begging before that, some on ’em. Old Pew, as had lost
his sight, and might have thought shame, spends twelve hundred pound in
a year, like a lord in Parliament. Where is he now? Well, he’s dead now
and under hatches; but for two year before that, shiver my timbers,
the man was starving! He begged, and he stole, and he cut throats, and
starved at that, by the powers!”
“Well, it ain’t much use, after all,” said the young seaman.
“’Tain’t much use for fools, you may lay to it--that, nor nothing,”
cried Silver. “But now, you look here: you’re young, you are, but you’re
as smart as paint. I see that when I set my eyes on you, and I’ll talk
to you like a man.”
You may imagine how I felt when I heard this abominable old rogue
addressing another in the very same words of flattery as he had used
to myself. I think, if I had been able, that I would have killed
him through the barrel. Meantime, he ran on, little supposing he was
overheard.
“Here it is about gentlemen of fortune. They lives rough, and they risk
swinging, but they eat and drink like fighting-cocks, and when a cruise
is done, why, it’s hundreds of pounds instead of hundreds of farthings
in their pockets. Now, the most goes for rum and a good fling, and to
sea again in their shirts. But that’s not the course I lay. I puts it
all away, some here, some there, and none too much anywheres, by reason
of suspicion. I’m fifty, mark you; once back from this cruise, I set up
gentleman in earnest. Time enough too, says you. Ah, but I’ve lived easy
in the meantime, never denied myself o’ nothing heart desires, and slep’
soft and ate dainty all my days but when at sea. And how did I begin?
Before the mast, like you!”
“Well,” said the other, “but all the other money’s gone now, ain’t it?
You daren’t show face in Bristol after this.”
“Why, where might you suppose it was?” asked Silver derisively.
“At Bristol, in banks and places,” answered his companion.
“It were,” said the cook; “it were when we weighed anchor. But my old
missis has it all by now. And the Spy-glass is sold, lease and goodwill
and rigging; and the old girl’s off to meet me. I would tell you where,
for I trust you, but it’d make jealousy among the mates.”
“And can you trust your missis?” asked the other.
“Gentlemen of fortune,” returned the cook, “usually 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 cable--one as knows me, I
mean--it won’t 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 Flint’s; the devil himself would have been feared to go
to sea with them. Well now, I tell you, I’m not a boasting man, and you
seen yourself how easy I keep company, but when I was quartermaster,
LAMBS wasn’t the word for Flint’s old buccaneers. Ah, you may be sure of
yourself in old John’s ship.”
“Well, I tell you now,” replied the lad, “I didn’t half a quarter like
the job till I had this talk with you, John; but there’s my hand on it
now.”
“And a brave lad you were, and smart too,” answered Silver, shaking
hands so heartily that all the barrel shook, “and a finer figurehead for
a gentleman of fortune I never clapped my eyes on.”
By this time I had begun to understand the meaning of their terms. By a
“gentleman of fortune” 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 hands--perhaps 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.
“Dick’s square,” said Silver.
“Oh, I know’d Dick was square,” returned the voice of the coxswain,
Israel Hands. “He’s no fool, is Dick.” And he turned his quid and spat.
“But look here,” he went on, “here’s what I want to know, Barbecue: how
long are we a-going to stand off and on like a blessed bumboat? I’ve had
a’most enough o’ Cap’n Smollett; he’s hazed me long enough, by thunder!
I want to go into that cabin, I do. I want their pickles and wines, and
that.”
“Israel,” said Silver, “your head ain’t much 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!”
XII
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
south-west 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 Foremast 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 that we have sighted is the place we 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.