Treasure Island
Black Dog Appears and Disappears
IT was not very long after this that there the of the events that us at last of the captain, though not, as you will see, of his affairs. It was a cold winter, with long, hard and gales; and it was plain from the that my father was little likely to see the spring. He daily, and my mother and I had all the upon our hands, and were without paying much to our guest.
It was one January morning, very early—a pinching, morning—the all with hoar-frost, the on the stones, the sun still low and only the and to seaward. The captain had than and set out the beach, his under the skirts of the old coat, his under his arm, his upon his head. I his like in his wake as he off, and the last I of him as he the big was a loud of indignation, as though his mind was still upon Dr. Livesey.
Well, mother was with father and I was the breakfast-table against the captain’s return when the door opened and a man in on I had set my before. He was a pale, creature, wanting two of the left hand, and though he a cutlass, he did not look much like a fighter. I had always my open for men, with one leg or two, and I this one puzzled me. He was not sailorly, and yet he had a of the sea about him too.
I asked him what was for his service, and he said he would take rum; but as I was going out of the room to it, he sat upon a table and me to near. I paused where I was, with my in my hand.
“Come here, sonny,” says he. “Come nearer here.”
I took a step nearer.
“Is this here table for my Bill?” he asked with a of leer.
I told him I did not know his Bill, and this was for a person who in our house we called the captain.
“Well,” said he, “my Bill would be called the captain, as like as not. He has a cut on one and a way with him, particularly in drink, has my Bill. We’ll put it, for like, that your captain has a cut on one cheek—and we’ll put it, if you like, that that cheek’s the right one. Ah, well! I told you. Now, is my Bill in this here house?”
I told him he was out walking.
“Which way, sonny? Which way is he gone?”
And when I had pointed out the and told him how the captain was likely to return, and how soon, and answered a other questions, “Ah,” said he, “this’ll be as good as drink to my Bill.”
The of his as he said these was not at all pleasant, and I had my own for that the was mistaken, he meant what he said. But it was no of mine, I thought; and besides, it was difficult to know what to do. The about just the door, the like a cat waiting for a mouse. Once I out myself into the road, but he called me back, and as I did not quick for his fancy, a most came over his face, and he ordered me in with an that me jump. As soon as I was again he returned to his manner, fawning, sneering, me on the shoulder, told me I was a good boy and he had taken a to me. “I have a son of my own,” said he, “as like you as two blocks, and he’s all the of my ’art. But the great thing for boys is discipline, sonny—discipline. Now, if you had along of Bill, you wouldn’t have there to be spoke to twice—not you. That was Bill’s way, the way of as with him. And here, sure enough, is my Bill, with a spy-glass under his arm, his old ’art, to be sure. You and me’ll just go into the parlour, sonny, and the door, and we’ll give Bill a little surprise—bless his ’art, I say again.”
So saying, the along with me into the and put me him in the so that we were by the open door. I was very and alarmed, as you may fancy, and it added to my to that the was himself. He the of his and the in the sheath; and all the time we were waiting there he as if he what we used to call a in the throat.
At last in the captain, the door him, without looking to the right or left, and across the room to where his him.
“Bill,” said the in a voice that I he had to make and big.
The captain on his and us; all the had gone out of his face, and his nose was blue; he had the look of a man who sees a ghost, or the one, or something worse, if anything can be; and upon my word, I sorry to see him all in a moment turn so old and sick.
“Come, Bill, you know me; you know an old shipmate, Bill, surely,” said the stranger.
The captain a of gasp.
“Black Dog!” said he.
“And who else?” returned the other, more at his ease. “Black Dog as was, come for to see his old Billy, at the Admiral Benbow inn. Ah, Bill, Bill, we have a of times, us two, since I them two talons,” up his hand.
“Now, look here,” said the captain; “you’ve me down; here I am; well, then, speak up; what is it?”
“That’s you, Bill,” returned Black Dog, “you’re in the right of it, Billy. I’ll have a of from this dear child here, as I’ve took such a to; and we’ll down, if you please, and talk square, like old shipmates.”
When I returned with the rum, they were already seated on either of the captain’s breakfast-table—Black Dog next to the door and so as to have one on his old and one, as I thought, on his retreat.
He me go and the door wide open. “None of your for me, sonny,” he said; and I left them together and retired into the bar.
For a long time, though I did my best to listen, I nothing but a low gattling; but at last the voices to higher, and I up a word or two, mostly oaths, from the captain.
“No, no, no, no; and an end of it!” he once. And again, “If it comes to swinging, all, say I.”
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Then all of a there was a of and other noises—the chair and table over in a lump, a of followed, and then a of pain, and the next I saw Black Dog in full flight, and the captain pursuing, with cutlasses, and the blood from the left shoulder. Just at the door the captain at the one last cut, which would have him to the had it not been by our big of Admiral Benbow. You may see the on the of the to this day.
That was the last of the battle. Once out upon the road, Black Dog, in of his wound, a clean pair of and over the of the hill in a minute. The captain, for his part, at the like a man. Then he passed his hand over his times and at last into the house.
“Jim,” says he, “rum”; and as he spoke, he a little, and himself with one hand against the wall.
“Are you hurt?” I.
“Rum,” he repeated. “I must away from here. Rum! Rum!”
I ran to it, but I was by all that had out, and I one and the tap, and while I was still in my own way, I a loud in the parlour, and in, the captain full length upon the floor. At the same my mother, by the and fighting, came to help me. Between us we his head. He was very loud and hard, but his were closed and his a colour.
“Dear, me,” my mother, “what a upon the house! And your father sick!”
In the meantime, we had no idea what to do to help the captain, any other but that he had got his death-hurt in the with the stranger. I got the rum, to be sure, and to put it his throat, but his teeth were and his as as iron. It was a happy for us when the door opened and Doctor Livesey came in, on his visit to my father.
“Oh, doctor,” we cried, “what shall we do? Where is he wounded?”
“Wounded? A fiddle-stick’s end!” said the doctor. “No more than you or I. The man has had a stroke, as I him. Now, Mrs. Hawkins, just you to your husband and tell him, if possible, nothing about it. For my part, I must do my best to save this fellow’s life; Jim, you me a basin.”
When I got with the basin, the doctor had already up the captain’s and his great arm. It was in places. “Here’s luck,” “A wind,” and “Billy Bones his fancy,” were very and on the forearm; and up near the there was a sketch of a and a man from it—done, as I thought, with great spirit.
“Prophetic,” said the doctor, this picture with his finger. “And now, Master Billy Bones, if that be your name, we’ll have a look at the colour of your blood. Jim,” he said, “are you of blood?”
“No, sir,” said I.
“Well, then,” said he, “you the basin”; and with that he took his and opened a vein.
A great of blood was taken the captain opened his and looked about him. First he the doctor with an frown; then his upon me, and he looked relieved. But his colour changed, and he to himself, crying, “Where’s Black Dog?”
“There is no Black Dog here,” said the doctor, “except what you have on your own back. You have been rum; you have had a stroke, as I told you; and I have just, very much against my own will, you out of the grave. Now, Mr. Bones—”
“That’s not my name,” he interrupted.
“Much I care,” returned the doctor. “It’s the name of a of my acquaintance; and I call you by it for the of shortness, and what I have to say to you is this; one of won’t kill you, but if you take one you’ll take another and another, and I my if you don’t off short, you’ll die—do you that?—die, and go to your own place, like the man in the Bible. Come, now, make an effort. I’ll help you to your for once.”
Between us, with much trouble, we managed to him upstairs, and him on his bed, where his on the pillow as if he were almost fainting.
“Now, mind you,” said the doctor, “I clear my conscience—the name of for you is death.”
And with that he off to see my father, taking me with him by the arm.
“This is nothing,” he said as soon as he had closed the door. “I have blood to keep him awhile; he should for a week where he is—that is the best thing for him and you; but another would settle him.”