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Ihadscarcegainedapositiononthebowspritwhentheflyingjibflappedandfilledupontheothertack,withareportlikeagun.
Theschoonertrembledtoherkeelunderthereverse,butnextmoment,theothersailsstilldrawing,thejibflappedbackagainandhungidle.
Thishadnearlytossedmeoffintothesea;andnowIlostnotime,crawledbackalongthebowsprit,andtumbledheadforemostonthedeck.
Iwasontheleesideoftheforecastle,andthemainsail,whichwasstilldrawing,concealedfrommeacertainportionoftheafter-deck.Notasoulwastobeseen.
Theplanks,whichhadnotbeenswabbedsincethemutiny,boretheprintofmanyfeet,andanemptybottle,brokenbytheneck,tumbledtoandfrolikealivethinginthescuppers.
SuddenlytheHispaniolacamerightintothewind.
Thejibsbehindmecrackedaloud,therudderslammedto,thewholeshipgaveasickeningheaveandshudder,andatthesamemomentthemain-boomswunginboard,thesheetgroaningintheblocks,andshowedmetheleeafter-deck.
Therewerethetwowatchmen,sureenough:red-caponhisback,asstiffasahandspike,withhisarmsstretchedoutlikethoseofacrucifixandhisteethshowingthroughhisopenlips;IsraelHandsproppedagainstthebulwarks,hischinonhischest,hishandslyingopenbeforehimonthedeck,hisfaceaswhite,underitstan,asatallowcandle.
Forawhiletheshipkeptbuckingandsidlinglikeavicioushorse,thesailsfilling,nowononetack,nowonanother,andtheboomswingingtoandfrotillthemastgroanedaloudunderthestrain.
Nowandagaintootherewouldcomeacloudoflightspraysoverthebulwarkandaheavyblowoftheship’sbowsagainsttheswell;somuchheavierweatherwasmadeofitbythisgreatriggedshipthanbymyhome-made,lop-sidedcoracle,nowgonetothebottomofthesea.
Ateveryjumpoftheschooner,red-capslippedtoandfro,but—whatwasghastlytobehold—neitherhisattitudenorhisfixedteeth-disclosinggrinwasanywaydisturbedbythisroughusage.
Ateveryjumptoo,Handsappearedstillmoretosinkintohimselfandsettledownuponthedeck,hisfeetslidingeverthefartherout,andthewholebodycantingtowardsthestern,sothathisfacebecame,littlebylittle,hidfromme;andatlastIcouldseenothingbeyondhisearandthefrayedringletofonewhisker.
Atthesametime,Iobserved,aroundbothofthem,splashesofdarkbloodupontheplanksandbegantofeelsurethattheyhadkilledeachotherintheirdrunkenwrath.
WhileIwasthuslookingandwondering,inacalmmoment,whentheshipwasstill,IsraelHandsturnedpartlyroundandwithalowmoanwrithedhimselfbacktothepositioninwhichIhadseenhimfirst.
Themoan,whichtoldofpainanddeadlyweakness,andthewayinwhichhisjawhungopenwentrighttomyheart.
ButwhenIrememberedthetalkIhadoverheardfromtheapplebarrel,allpityleftme.
IwalkedaftuntilIreachedthemain-mast.
“Comeaboard,Mr.Hands,”Isaidironically.
Herolledhiseyesroundheavily,buthewastoofargonetoexpresssurprise.Allhecoulddowastoutteroneword,“Brandy.”
Itoccurredtometherewasnotimetolose,anddodgingtheboomasitoncemorelurchedacrossthedeck,Islippedaftanddownthecompanionstairsintothecabin.
Itwassuchasceneofconfusionasyoucanhardlyfancy.
Allthelockfastplaceshadbeenbrokenopeninquestofthechart.
Thefloorwasthickwithmudwhereruffianshadsatdowntodrinkorconsultafterwadinginthemarshesroundtheircamp.
Thebulkheads,allpaintedinclearwhiteandbeadedroundwithgilt,boreapatternofdirtyhands.
Dozensofemptybottlesclinkedtogetherincornerstotherollingoftheship.
Oneofthedoctor’smedicalbookslayopenonthetable,halfoftheleavesguttedout,Isuppose,forpipelights.
Inthemidstofallthisthelampstillcastasmokyglow,obscureandbrownasumber.
Iwentintothecellar;allthebarrelsweregone,andofthebottlesamostsurprisingnumberhadbeendrunkoutandthrownaway.
Certainly,sincethemutinybegan,notamanofthemcouldeverhavebeensober.
Foragingabout,Ifoundabottlewithsomebrandyleft,forHands;andformyselfIroutedoutsomebiscuit,somepickledfruits,agreatbunchofraisins,andapieceofcheese.
WiththeseIcameondeck,putdownmyownstockbehindtherudderheadandwelloutofthecoxswain’sreach,wentforwardtothewater-breaker,andhadagooddeepdrinkofwater,andthen,andnottillthen,gaveHandsthebrandy.
Hemusthavedrunkagillbeforehetookthebottlefromhismouth.
“Aye,”saidhe,“bythunder,butIwantedsomeo’that!”
Ihadsatdownalreadyinmyowncornerandbeguntoeat.
“Muchhurt?”Iaskedhim.
Hegrunted,orrather,Imightsay,hebarked.
“Ifthatdoctorwasaboard,”hesaid,“I’dberightenoughinacoupleofturns,butIdon’thavenomannerofluck,yousee,andthat’swhat’sthematterwithme.
Asforthatswab,he’sgoodanddead,heis,”headded,indicatingthemanwiththeredcap.“Hewarn’tnoseamananyhow.Andwheremoughtyouhavecomefrom?”
“Well,”saidI,“I’vecomeaboardtotakepossessionofthisship,Mr.Hands;andyou’llpleaseregardmeasyourcaptainuntilfurthernotice.”
Helookedatmesourlyenoughbutsaidnothing.
Someofthecolourhadcomebackintohischeeks,thoughhestilllookedverysickandstillcontinuedtoslipoutandsettledownastheshipbangedabout.
“Bytheby,”Icontinued,“Ican’thavethesecolours,Mr.Hands;andbyyourleave,I’llstrike‘em.Betternonethanthese.”
Andagaindodgingtheboom,Irantothecolourlines,handeddowntheircursedblackflag,andchuckeditoverboard.
“Godsavetheking!”saidI,wavingmycap.“Andthere’sanendtoCaptainSilver!”
Hewatchedmekeenlyandslyly,hischinallthewhileonhisbreast.
“Ireckon,”hesaidatlast,“Ireckon,Cap’nHawkins,you’llkindofwanttogetashorenow.S’posewetalks.”
“Why,yes,”saysI,“withallmyheart,Mr.Hands.Sayon.”AndIwentbacktomymealwithagoodappetite.
“Thisman,”hebegan,noddingfeeblyatthecorpse“—O’Brienwerehisname,arankIrelander—thismanandmegotthecanvasonher,meaningfortosailherback.
Well,HE’Sdeadnow,heis—asdeadasbilge;andwho’stosailthisship,Idon’tsee.
WithoutIgivesyouahint,youain’tthatman,asfar’sIcantell.
Now,lookhere,yougivesmefoodanddrinkandaoldscarforankechertotiemywoundup,youdo,andI’lltellyouhowtosailher,andthat’saboutsquareallround,Itakeit.”
“I’lltellyouonething,”saysI:“I’mnotgoingbacktoCaptainKidd’sanchorage.ImeantogetintoNorthInletandbeachherquietlythere.”
“Tobesureyoudid,”hecried.“Why,Iain’tsichaninfernallubberafterall.Icansee,can’tI?
I’vetriedmyfling,Ihave,andI’velost,andit’syouhasthewindofme.NorthInlet?Why,Ihaven’tnoch’ice,notI!
I’dhelpyousailheruptoExecutionDock,bythunder!SoIwould.”
Well,asitseemedtome,therewassomesenseinthis.Westruckourbargainonthespot.
InthreeminutesIhadtheHispaniolasailingeasilybeforethewindalongthecoastofTreasureIsland,withgoodhopesofturningthenorthernpointerenoonandbeatingdownagainasfarasNorthInletbeforehighwater,whenwemightbeachhersafelyandwaittillthesubsidingtidepermittedustoland.
ThenIlashedthetillerandwentbelowtomyownchest,whereIgotasoftsilkhandkerchiefofmymother’s.
Withthis,andwithmyaid,Handsboundupthegreatbleedingstabhehadreceivedinthethigh,andafterhehadeatenalittleandhadaswallowortwomoreofthebrandy,hebegantopickupvisibly,satstraighterup,spokelouderandclearer,andlookedineverywayanotherman.
Thebreezeservedusadmirably.Weskimmedbeforeitlikeabird,thecoastoftheislandflashingbyandtheviewchangingeveryminute.
Soonwewerepastthehighlandsandbowlingbesidelow,sandycountry,sparselydottedwithdwarfpines,andsoonwewerebeyondthatagainandhadturnedthecorneroftherockyhillthatendstheislandonthenorth.
Iwasgreatlyelatedwithmynewcommand,andpleasedwiththebright,sunshinyweatherandthesedifferentprospectsofthecoast.
Ihadnowplentyofwaterandgoodthingstoeat,andmyconscience,whichhadsmittenmehardformydesertion,wasquietedbythegreatconquestIhadmade.
Ishould,Ithink,havehadnothingleftmetodesirebutfortheeyesofthecoxswainastheyfollowedmederisivelyaboutthedeckandtheoddsmilethatappearedcontinuallyonhisface.
Itwasasmilethathadinitsomethingbothofpainandweakness—ahaggardoldman’ssmile;buttherewas,besidesthat,agrainofderision,ashadowoftreachery,inhisexpressionashecraftilywatched,andwatched,andwatchedmeatmywork.
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