English
AssoonasBenGunnsawthecolourshecametoahalt,stoppedmebythearm,andsatdown.
“Now,”saidhe,“there’syourfriends,sureenough.”
“Farmorelikelyit’sthemutineers,”Ianswered.
“That!”hecried.
“Why,inaplacelikethis,wherenobodyputsinbutgen’lemenoffortune,SilverwouldflytheJollyRoger,youdon’tmakenodoubtofthat.No,that’syourfriends.
There’sbeenblowstoo,andIreckonyourfriendshashadthebestofit;andheretheyareashoreintheoldstockade,aswasmadeyearsandyearsagobyFlint.
Ah,hewasthemantohaveaheadpiece,wasFlint!Barringrum,hismatchwereneverseen.
Hewereafraidofnone,nothe;on’ySilver—Silverwasthatgenteel.”
“Well,”saidI,“thatmaybeso,andsobeit;allthemorereasonthatIshouldhurryonandjoinmyfriends.”
“Nay,mate,”returnedBen,“notyou.You’reagoodboy,orI’mmistook;butyou’reon’yaboy,alltold.Now,BenGunnisfly.
Rumwouldn’tbringmethere,whereyou’regoing—notrumwouldn’t,tillIseeyourborngen’lemanandgetsitonhiswordofhonour.
Andyouwon’tforgetmywords;‘Aprecioussight(that’swhatyou’llsay),aprecioussightmoreconfidence’—andthennipshim.”
Andhepinchedmethethirdtimewiththesameairofcleverness.
“AndwhenBenGunniswanted,youknowwheretofindhim,Jim.Justwheeryoufoundhimtoday.
Andhimthatcomesistohaveawhitethinginhishand,andhe’stocomealone.Oh!
Andyou’llsaythis:‘BenGunn,’saysyou,‘hasreasonsofhisown.’”
“Well,”saidI,“IbelieveIunderstand.Youhavesomethingtopropose,andyouwishtoseethesquireorthedoctor,andyou’retobefoundwhereIfoundyou.Isthatall?”
“Andwhen?saysyou,”headded.“Why,fromaboutnoonobservationtoaboutsixbells.”
“Good,”saidI,“andnowmayIgo?”
“Youwon’tforget?”heinquiredanxiously.
“Precioussight,andreasonsofhisown,saysyou.
Reasonsofhisown;that’sthemainstay;asbetweenmanandman.
Well,then”—stillholdingme—”Ireckonyoucango,Jim.
And,Jim,ifyouwastoseeSilver,youwouldn’tgofortosellBenGunn?Wildhorseswouldn’tdrawitfromyou?No,saysyou.
Andifthempiratescampashore,Jim,whatwouldyousaybutthere’dbewiddersinthemorning?”
Herehewasinterruptedbyaloudreport,andacannonballcametearingthroughthetreesandpitchedinthesandnotahundredyardsfromwherewetwoweretalking.
Thenextmomenteachofushadtakentohisheelsinadifferentdirection.
Foragoodhourtocomefrequentreportsshooktheisland,andballskeptcrashingthroughthewoods.
Imovedfromhiding-placetohiding-place,alwayspursued,orsoitseemedtome,bytheseterrifyingmissiles.
Buttowardstheendofthebombardment,thoughstillIdurstnotventureinthedirectionofthestockade,wheretheballsfelloftenest,Ihadbegun,inamanner,topluckupmyheartagain,andafteralongdetourtotheeast,creptdownamongtheshore-sidetrees.
Thesunhadjustset,theseabreezewasrustlingandtumblinginthewoodsandrufflingthegreysurfaceoftheanchorage;thetide,too,wasfarout,andgreattractsofsandlayuncovered;theair,aftertheheatoftheday,chilledmethroughmyjacket.
TheHispaniolastilllaywhereshehadanchored;but,sureenough,therewastheJollyRoger—theblackflagofpiracy—flyingfromherpeak.
EvenasIlooked,therecameanotherredflashandanotherreportthatsenttheechoesclattering,andonemoreround-shotwhistledthroughtheair.Itwasthelastofthecannonade.
Ilayforsometimewatchingthebustlewhichsucceededtheattack.
Menweredemolishingsomethingwithaxesonthebeachnearthestockade—thepoorjolly-boat,Iafterwardsdiscovered.
Away,nearthemouthoftheriver,agreatfirewasglowingamongthetrees,andbetweenthatpointandtheshiponeofthegigskeptcomingandgoing,themen,whomIhadseensogloomy,shoutingattheoarslikechildren.
Buttherewasasoundintheirvoiceswhichsuggestedrum.
AtlengthIthoughtImightreturntowardsthestockade.
Iwasprettyfardownonthelow,sandyspitthatenclosestheanchoragetotheeast,andisjoinedathalf-watertoSkeletonIsland;andnow,asIrosetomyfeet,Isaw,somedistancefurtherdownthespitandrisingfromamonglowbushes,anisolatedrock,prettyhigh,andpeculiarlywhiteincolour.
ItoccurredtomethatthismightbethewhiterockofwhichBenGunnhadspokenandthatsomedayorotheraboatmightbewantedandIshouldknowwheretolookforone.
ThenIskirtedamongthewoodsuntilIhadregainedtherear,orshorewardside,ofthestockade,andwassoonwarmlywelcomedbythefaithfulparty.
Ihadsoontoldmystoryandbegantolookaboutme.
Thelog-housewasmadeofunsquaredtrunksofpine—roof,walls,andfloor.
Thelatterstoodinseveralplacesasmuchasafootorafootandahalfabovethesurfaceofthesand.
Therewasaporchatthedoor,andunderthisporchthelittlespringwelledupintoanartificialbasinofaratheroddkind—nootherthanagreatship’skettleofiron,withthebottomknockedout,andsunk“toherbearings,”asthecaptainsaid,amongthesand.
Littlehadbeenleftbesidestheframeworkofthehouse,butinonecornertherewasastoneslablaiddownbywayofhearthandanoldrustyironbaskettocontainthefire.
Theslopesoftheknollandalltheinsideofthestockadehadbeenclearedoftimbertobuildthehouse,andwecouldseebythestumpswhatafineandloftygrovehadbeendestroyed.
Mostofthesoilhadbeenwashedawayorburiedindriftaftertheremovalofthetrees;onlywherethestreamletrandownfromthekettleathickbedofmossandsomefernsandlittlecreepingbusheswerestillgreenamongthesand.
Veryclosearoundthestockade—tooclosefordefense,theysaid—thewoodstillflourishedhighanddense,alloffironthelandside,buttowardstheseawithalargeadmixtureoflive-oaks.
Thecoldeveningbreeze,ofwhichIhavespoken,whistledthrougheverychinkoftherudebuildingandsprinkledthefloorwithacontinualrainoffinesand.
Therewassandinoureyes,sandinourteeth,sandinoursuppers,sanddancinginthespringatthebottomofthekettle,foralltheworldlikeporridgebeginningtoboil.
Ourchimneywasasquareholeintheroof;itwasbutalittlepartofthesmokethatfounditswayout,andtheresteddiedaboutthehouseandkeptuscoughingandpipingtheeye.
AddtothisthatGray,thenewman,hadhisfacetiedupinabandageforacuthehadgotinbreakingawayfromthemutineersandthatpooroldTomRedruth,stillunburied,layalongthewall,stiffandstark,undertheUnionJack.
Ifwehadbeenallowedtositidle,weshouldallhavefallenintheblues,butCaptainSmollettwasneverthemanforthat.
Allhandswerecalledupbeforehim,andhedividedusintowatches.
ThedoctorandGrayandIforone;thesquire,Hunter,andJoyceupontheother.
Tiredthoughweallwere,twoweresentoutforfirewood;twomoreweresettodigagraveforRedruth;thedoctorwasnamedcook;Iwasputsentryatthedoor;andthecaptainhimselfwentfromonetoanother,keepingupourspiritsandlendingahandwhereveritwaswanted.
Fromtimetotimethedoctorcametothedoorforalittleairandtoresthiseyes,whichwerealmostsmokedoutofhishead,andwheneverhedidso,hehadawordforme.
“ThatmanSmollett,”hesaidonce,“isabettermanthanIam.AndwhenIsaythatitmeansadeal,Jim.”
Anothertimehecameandwassilentforawhile.Thenheputhisheadononeside,andlookedatme.
“IsthisBenGunnaman?”heasked.
“Idonotknow,sir,”saidI.“Iamnotverysurewhetherhe’ssane.”
“Ifthere’sanydoubtaboutthematter,heis,”returnedthedoctor.
“Amanwhohasbeenthreeyearsbitinghisnailsonadesertisland,Jim,can’texpecttoappearassaneasyouorme.Itdoesn’tlieinhumannature.
Wasitcheeseyousaidhehadafancyfor?”
“Yes,sir,cheese,”Ianswered.
“Well,Jim,”sayshe,“justseethegoodthatcomesofbeingdaintyinyourfood.You’veseenmysnuff-box,haven’tyou?
Andyouneversawmetakesnuff,thereasonbeingthatinmysnuff-boxIcarryapieceofParmesancheese—acheesemadeinItaly,verynutritious.Well,that’sforBenGunn!”
BeforesupperwaseatenweburiedoldTominthesandandstoodroundhimforawhilebare-headedinthebreeze.
Agooddealoffirewoodhadbeengotin,butnotenoughforthecaptain’sfancy,andheshookhisheadoveritandtolduswe“mustgetbacktothistomorrowratherlivelier.”
Then,whenwehadeatenourporkandeachhadagoodstiffglassofbrandygrog,thethreechiefsgottogetherinacornertodiscussourprospects.
Itappearstheywereattheirwits’endwhattodo,thestoresbeingsolowthatwemusthavebeenstarvedintosurrenderlongbeforehelpcame.
Butourbesthope,itwasdecided,wastokilloffthebuccaneersuntiltheyeitherhauleddowntheirflagorranawaywiththeHispaniola.
Fromnineteentheywerealreadyreducedtofifteen,twootherswerewounded,andoneatleast—themanshotbesidethegun—severelywounded,ifhewerenotdead.
Everytimewehadacrackatthem,weweretotakeit,savingourownlives,withtheextremestcare.
Andbesidesthat,wehadtwoableallies—rumandtheclimate.
Asforthefirst,thoughwewereabouthalfamileaway,wecouldhearthemroaringandsinginglateintothenight;andasforthesecond,thedoctorstakedhiswigthat,campedwheretheywereinthemarshandunprovidedwithremedies,thehalfofthemwouldbeontheirbacksbeforeaweek.
“So,”headded,“ifwearenotallshotdownfirstthey’llbegladtobepackingintheschooner.It’salwaysaship,andtheycangettobuccaneeringagain,Isuppose.”
“FirstshipthateverIlost,”saidCaptainSmollett.
Iwasdeadtired,asyoumayfancy;andwhenIgottosleep,whichwasnottillafteragreatdealoftossing,Isleptlikealogofwood.
TheresthadlongbeenupandhadalreadybreakfastedandincreasedthepileoffirewoodbyabouthalfasmuchagainwhenIwaswakenedbyabustleandthesoundofvoices.
“Flagoftruce!”Iheardsomeonesay;andthen,immediatelyafter,withacryofsurprise,“Silverhimself!”
Andatthat,upIjumped,andrubbingmyeyes,rantoaloopholeinthewall.
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