AlSamCur123/DataText · Datasets at Hugging Face

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thought, doctor.”
“Not a thought,” replied Dr. Livesey cheerily.
And by this time we had reached the gigs. The doctor, with the pick-axe,
demolished one of them, and then we all got aboard the other and set out
to go round by sea for North Inlet.
This was a run of eight or nine miles. Silver, though he was almost
killed already with fatigue, was set to an oar, like the rest of us, and
we were soon skimming swiftly over a smooth sea. Soon we passed out
of the straits and doubled the south-east corner of the island, round
which, four days ago, we had towed the HISPANIOLA.
As we passed the two-pointed hill, we could see the black mouth of Ben
Gunn’s cave and a figure standing by it, leaning on a musket. It was the
squire, and we waved a handkerchief and gave him three cheers, in which
the voice of Silver joined as heartily as any.
Three miles farther, just inside the mouth of North Inlet, what should
we meet but the HISPANIOLA, cruising by herself? The last flood had
lifted her, and had there been much wind or a strong tide current, as
in the southern anchorage, we should never have found her more, or found
her stranded beyond help. As it was, there was little amiss beyond the
wreck of the main-sail. Another anchor was got ready and dropped in a
fathom and a half of water. We all pulled round again to Rum Cove,
the nearest point for Ben Gunn’s treasure-house; and then Gray,
single-handed, returned with the gig to the HISPANIOLA, where he was to
pass the night on guard.
A gentle slope ran up from the beach to the entrance of the cave. At the
top, the squire met us. To me he was cordial and kind, saying nothing
of my escapade either in the way of blame or praise. At Silver’s polite
salute he somewhat flushed.
“John Silver,” he said, “you’re a prodigious villain and imposter--a
monstrous imposter, sir. I am told I am not to prosecute you. Well,
then, I will not. But the dead men, sir, hang about your neck like
mill-stones.”
“Thank you kindly, sir,” replied Long John, again saluting.
“I dare you to thank me!” cried the squire. “It is a gross dereliction
of my duty. Stand back.”
And thereupon we all entered the cave. It was a large, airy place, with
a little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung with ferns. The
floor was sand. Before a big fire lay Captain Smollett; and in a far
corner, only duskily flickered over by the blaze, I beheld great heaps
of coin and quadrilaterals built of bars of gold. That was Flint’s
treasure that we had come so far to seek and that had cost already the
lives of seventeen men from the HISPANIOLA. How many it had cost in the
amassing, what blood and sorrow, what good ships scuttled on the deep,
what brave men walking the plank blindfold, what shot of cannon, what
shame and lies and cruelty, perhaps no man alive could tell. Yet there
were still three upon that island--Silver, and old Morgan, and Ben
Gunn--who had each taken his share in these crimes, as each had hoped in
vain to share in the reward.
“Come in, Jim,” said the captain. “You’re a good boy in your line, Jim,
but I don’t think you and me’ll go to sea again. You’re too much of the
born favourite for me. Is that you, John Silver? What brings you here,
man?”
“Come back to my dooty, sir,” returned Silver.
“Ah!” said the captain, and that was all he said.
What a supper I had of it that night, with all my friends around me; and
what a meal it was, with Ben Gunn’s salted goat and some delicacies and
a bottle of old wine from the HISPANIOLA. Never, I am sure, were people
gayer or happier. And there was Silver, sitting back almost out of the
firelight, but eating heartily, prompt to spring forward when anything
was wanted, even joining quietly in our laughter--the same bland,
polite, obsequious seaman of the voyage out.
XXXIV
And Last
The next morning we fell early to work, for the transportation of this
great mass of gold near a mile by land to the beach, and thence three
miles by boat to the HISPANIOLA, was a considerable task for so small
a number of workmen. The three fellows still abroad upon the island did
not greatly trouble us; a single sentry on the shoulder of the hill was
sufficient to ensure us against any sudden onslaught, and we thought,
besides, they had had more than enough of fighting.
Therefore the work was pushed on briskly. Gray and Ben Gunn came and
went with the boat, while the rest during their absences piled treasure
on the beach. Two of the bars, slung in a rope’s end, made a good load
for a grown man--one that he was glad to walk slowly with. For my part,
as I was not much use at carrying, I was kept busy all day in the cave
packing the minted money into bread-bags.
It was a strange collection, like Billy Bones’s hoard for the diversity
of coinage, but so much larger and so much more varied that I think I
never had more pleasure than in sorting them. English, French, Spanish,
Portuguese, Georges, and Louises, doubloons and double guineas and
moidores and sequins, the pictures of all the kings of Europe for the
last hundred years, strange Oriental pieces stamped with what looked
like wisps of string or bits of spider’s web, round pieces and square
pieces, and pieces bored through the middle, as if to wear them round
your neck--nearly every variety of money in the world must, I think,
have found a place in that collection; and for number, I am sure they
were like autumn leaves, so that my back ached with stooping and my
fingers with sorting them out.
Day after day this work went on; by every evening a fortune had been
stowed aboard, but there was another fortune waiting for the morrow; and
all this time we heard nothing of the three surviving mutineers.
At last--I think it was on the third night--the doctor and I were
strolling on the shoulder of the hill where it overlooks the lowlands of
the isle, when, from out the thick darkness below, the wind brought us
a noise between shrieking and singing. It was only a snatch that reached
our ears, followed by the former silence.
“Heaven forgive them,” said the doctor; “’tis the mutineers!”
“All drunk, sir,” struck in the voice of Silver from behind us.
Silver, I should say, was allowed his entire liberty, and in spite of
daily rebuffs, seemed to regard himself once more as quite a privileged

thought, doctor.”

“Not a thought,” replied Dr. Livesey cheerily.

And by this time we had reached the gigs. The doctor, with the pick-axe,

demolished one of them, and then we all got aboard the other and set out

to go round by sea for North Inlet.

This was a run of eight or nine miles. Silver, though he was almost

killed already with fatigue, was set to an oar, like the rest of us, and

we were soon skimming swiftly over a smooth sea. Soon we passed out

of the straits and doubled the south-east corner of the island, round

which, four days ago, we had towed the HISPANIOLA.

As we passed the two-pointed hill, we could see the black mouth of Ben

Gunn’s cave and a figure standing by it, leaning on a musket. It was the

squire, and we waved a handkerchief and gave him three cheers, in which

the voice of Silver joined as heartily as any.

Three miles farther, just inside the mouth of North Inlet, what should

we meet but the HISPANIOLA, cruising by herself? The last flood had

lifted her, and had there been much wind or a strong tide current, as

in the southern anchorage, we should never have found her more, or found

her stranded beyond help. As it was, there was little amiss beyond the

wreck of the main-sail. Another anchor was got ready and dropped in a

fathom and a half of water. We all pulled round again to Rum Cove,

the nearest point for Ben Gunn’s treasure-house; and then Gray,

single-handed, returned with the gig to the HISPANIOLA, where he was to

pass the night on guard.

A gentle slope ran up from the beach to the entrance of the cave. At the

top, the squire met us. To me he was cordial and kind, saying nothing

of my escapade either in the way of blame or praise. At Silver’s polite

salute he somewhat flushed.

“John Silver,” he said, “you’re a prodigious villain and imposter--a

monstrous imposter, sir. I am told I am not to prosecute you. Well,

then, I will not. But the dead men, sir, hang about your neck like

mill-stones.”

“Thank you kindly, sir,” replied Long John, again saluting.

“I dare you to thank me!” cried the squire. “It is a gross dereliction

of my duty. Stand back.”

And thereupon we all entered the cave. It was a large, airy place, with

a little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung with ferns. The

floor was sand. Before a big fire lay Captain Smollett; and in a far

corner, only duskily flickered over by the blaze, I beheld great heaps

of coin and quadrilaterals built of bars of gold. That was Flint’s

treasure that we had come so far to seek and that had cost already the

lives of seventeen men from the HISPANIOLA. How many it had cost in the

amassing, what blood and sorrow, what good ships scuttled on the deep,

what brave men walking the plank blindfold, what shot of cannon, what

shame and lies and cruelty, perhaps no man alive could tell. Yet there

were still three upon that island--Silver, and old Morgan, and Ben

Gunn--who had each taken his share in these crimes, as each had hoped in

vain to share in the reward.

“Come in, Jim,” said the captain. “You’re a good boy in your line, Jim,

but I don’t think you and me’ll go to sea again. You’re too much of the

born favourite for me. Is that you, John Silver? What brings you here,

man?”

“Come back to my dooty, sir,” returned Silver.

“Ah!” said the captain, and that was all he said.

What a supper I had of it that night, with all my friends around me; and

what a meal it was, with Ben Gunn’s salted goat and some delicacies and

a bottle of old wine from the HISPANIOLA. Never, I am sure, were people

gayer or happier. And there was Silver, sitting back almost out of the

firelight, but eating heartily, prompt to spring forward when anything

was wanted, even joining quietly in our laughter--the same bland,

polite, obsequious seaman of the voyage out.

XXXIV

And Last

The next morning we fell early to work, for the transportation of this

great mass of gold near a mile by land to the beach, and thence three

miles by boat to the HISPANIOLA, was a considerable task for so small

a number of workmen. The three fellows still abroad upon the island did

not greatly trouble us; a single sentry on the shoulder of the hill was

sufficient to ensure us against any sudden onslaught, and we thought,

besides, they had had more than enough of fighting.

Therefore the work was pushed on briskly. Gray and Ben Gunn came and

went with the boat, while the rest during their absences piled treasure

on the beach. Two of the bars, slung in a rope’s end, made a good load

for a grown man--one that he was glad to walk slowly with. For my part,

as I was not much use at carrying, I was kept busy all day in the cave

packing the minted money into bread-bags.

It was a strange collection, like Billy Bones’s hoard for the diversity

of coinage, but so much larger and so much more varied that I think I

never had more pleasure than in sorting them. English, French, Spanish,

Portuguese, Georges, and Louises, doubloons and double guineas and

moidores and sequins, the pictures of all the kings of Europe for the

last hundred years, strange Oriental pieces stamped with what looked

like wisps of string or bits of spider’s web, round pieces and square

pieces, and pieces bored through the middle, as if to wear them round

your neck--nearly every variety of money in the world must, I think,

have found a place in that collection; and for number, I am sure they

were like autumn leaves, so that my back ached with stooping and my

fingers with sorting them out.

Day after day this work went on; by every evening a fortune had been

stowed aboard, but there was another fortune waiting for the morrow; and

all this time we heard nothing of the three surviving mutineers.

At last--I think it was on the third night--the doctor and I were

strolling on the shoulder of the hill where it overlooks the lowlands of

the isle, when, from out the thick darkness below, the wind brought us

a noise between shrieking and singing. It was only a snatch that reached

our ears, followed by the former silence.

“Heaven forgive them,” said the doctor; “’tis the mutineers!”

“All drunk, sir,” struck in the voice of Silver from behind us.

Silver, I should say, was allowed his entire liberty, and in spite of

daily rebuffs, seemed to regard himself once more as quite a privileged