Treasure Island
The Fall of a Chieftain
THERE was such an in this world. Each of these six men was as though he had been struck. But with Silver the passed almost instantly. Every of his had been set full-stretch, like a racer, on that money; well, he was up, in a single second, dead; and he his head, his temper, and his plan the others had had time to the disappointment.
“Jim,” he whispered, “take that, and by for trouble.”
And he passed me a double-barrelled pistol.
At the same time, he moving northward, and in a steps had put the us two and the other five. Then he looked at me and nodded, as much as to say, “Here is a narrow corner,” as, indeed, I it was. His looks were not friendly, and I was so at these that I not whispering, “So you’ve again.”
There was no time left for him to answer in. The buccaneers, with and cries, to leap, one after another, into the and to with their fingers, the as they did so. Morgan a piece of gold. He it up with a perfect of oaths. It was a two-guinea piece, and it from hand to hand among them for a of a minute.
“Two guineas!” Merry, it at Silver. “That’s your seven hundred thousand pounds, is it? You’re the man for bargains, ain’t you? You’re him that nothing, you wooden-headed lubber!”
“Dig away, boys,” said Silver with the insolence; “you’ll some pig-nuts and I shouldn’t wonder.”
“Pig-nuts!” Merry, in a scream. “Mates, do you that? I tell you now, that man there it all along. Look in the of him and you’ll see it there.”
“Ah, Merry,” Silver, “standing for cap’n again? You’re a pushing lad, to be sure.”
But this time was in Merry’s favour. They to out of the excavation, them. One thing I observed, which looked well for us: they all got out upon the opposite from Silver.
Well, there we stood, two on one side, five on the other, the us, and nobody up high to offer the blow. Silver moved; he them, very on his crutch, and looked as as I saw him. He was brave, and no mistake.
At last Merry to think a speech might help matters.
“Mates,” says he, “there’s two of them alone there; one’s the old that us all here and us to this; the other’s that that I to have the of. Now, mates—”
He was his arm and his voice, and meant to lead a charge. But just then—crack! crack! crack!—three musket-shots out of the thicket. Merry into the excavation; the man with the like a and all his length upon his side, where he dead, but still twitching; and the other three and ran for it with all their might.
Before you wink, Long John had two of a pistol into the Merry, and as the man rolled up his at him in the last agony, “George,” said he, “I reckon I settled you.”
At the same moment, the doctor, Gray, and Ben Gunn joined us, with muskets, from among the nutmeg-trees.
“Forward!” the doctor. “Double quick, my lads. We must ’em off the boats.”
And we set off at a great pace, sometimes through the to the chest.
I tell you, but Silver was to keep up with us. The work that man through, on his till the of his were fit to burst, was work no man equalled; and so thinks the doctor. As it was, he was already thirty yards us and on the of when we the of the slope.
“Doctor,” he hailed, “see there! No hurry!”
Sure there was no hurry. In a more open part of the plateau, we see the three still in the same direction as they had started, right for Mizzenmast Hill. We were already them and the boats; and so we four sat to breathe, while Long John, his face, came slowly up with us.
“Thank ye kindly, doctor,” says he. “You came in in about the nick, I guess, for me and Hawkins. And so it’s you, Ben Gunn!” he added. “Well, you’re a one, to be sure.”
“I’m Ben Gunn, I am,” the maroon, like an in his embarrassment. “And,” he added, after a long pause, “how do, Mr. Silver? Pretty well, I thank ye, says you.”
“Ben, Ben,” Silver, “to think as you’ve done me!”
The doctor sent Gray for one of the pick-axes deserted, in their flight, by the mutineers, and then as we to where the were lying, related in a what had taken place. It was a that Silver; and Ben Gunn, the half-idiot maroon, was the hero from to end.
Ben, in his long, about the island, had the skeleton—it was he that had rifled it; he had the treasure; he had it up (it was the of his pick-axe that in the excavation); he had it on his back, in many journeys, from the of the tall to a he had on the two-pointed hill at the north-east of the island, and there it had in safety since two months the of the Hispaniola.
When the doctor had this from him on the of the attack, and when next he saw the deserted, he had gone to Silver, him the chart, which was now useless—given him the stores, for Ben Gunn’s was well with goats’ meat by himself—given anything and to a of moving in safety from the to the two-pointed hill, there to be clear of and keep a upon the money.
“As for you, Jim,” he said, “it against my heart, but I did what I best for those who had by their duty; and if you were not one of these, fault was it?”
That morning, that I was to be in the he had prepared for the mutineers, he had all the way to the cave, and the to the captain, had taken Gray and the and started, making the across the to be at hand the pine. Soon, however, he saw that our party had the start of him; and Ben Gunn, being of foot, had been in to do his best alone. Then it had to him to work upon the of his shipmates, and he was so successful that Gray and the doctor had come up and were already the of the treasure-hunters.
“Ah,” said Silver, “it were for me that I had Hawkins here. You would have let old John be cut to bits, and it a thought, doctor.”
“Not a thought,” Dr. Livesey cheerily.
And by this time we had the gigs. The doctor, with the pick-axe, one of them, and then we all got the other and set out to go by sea for North Inlet.
This was a of eight or nine miles. Silver, though he was almost killed already with fatigue, was set to an oar, like the of us, and we were soon over a sea. Soon we passed out of the and the south-east of the island, which, four days ago, we had the Hispaniola.
As we passed the two-pointed hill, we see the black mouth of Ben Gunn’s and a by it, on a musket. It was the squire, and we a and gave him three cheers, in which the voice of Silver joined as as any.
Three miles farther, just the mouth of North Inlet, what should we meet but the Hispaniola, by herself? The last had her, and had there been much wind or a current, as in the southern anchorage, we should have her more, or her help. As it was, there was little the of the main-sail. Another was got and in a and a of water. We all again to Rum Cove, the nearest point for Ben Gunn’s treasure-house; and then Gray, single-handed, returned with the to the Hispaniola, where he was to pass the night on guard.
A ran up from the beach to the entrance of the cave. At the top, the met us. To me he was and kind, saying nothing of my either in the way of or praise. At Silver’s he flushed.
“John Silver,” he said, “you’re a and imposter—a imposter, sir. I am told I am not to you. Well, then, I will not. But the men, sir, about your like mill-stones.”
“Thank you kindly, sir,” Long John, again saluting.
“I you to thank me!” the squire. “It is a of my duty. Stand back.”
And we all entered the cave. It was a large, place, with a little and a of clear water, with ferns. The was sand. Before a big fire Captain Smollett; and in a corner, only over by the blaze, I great of coin and of of gold. That was Flint’s that we had come so to and that had cost already the of seventeen men from the Hispaniola. How many it had cost in the amassing, what blood and sorrow, what good ships on the deep, what men walking the blindfold, what of cannon, what and and cruelty, no man alive tell. Yet there were still three upon that island—Silver, and old Morgan, and Ben Gunn—who had each taken his in these crimes, as each had in to 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 for me. Is that you, John Silver? What you here, man?”
“Come 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 it was, with Ben Gunn’s and some and a bottle of old from the Hispaniola. Never, I am sure, were people or happier. And there was Silver, almost out of the firelight, but heartily, to when anything was wanted, joining in our laughter—the same bland, polite, of the out.
