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 and friendly dependent.
Indeed, it was remarkable how well
he bore these slights and with what
unwearying politeness he kept on
trying to ingratiate himself with
all. Yet, I think, none treated him
better than a dog, unless it was Ben
Gunn, who was still terribly afraid
of his old quartermaster, or myself,
who had really something to thank
him for; although for that matter, I
suppose, I had reason to think even
worse of him than anybody else, for
I had seen him meditating a fresh
treachery upon the plateau.
Accordingly, it was pretty gruffly
that the doctor answered him.
"Drunk or raving," said he.
"Right you were, sir," replied
Silver; "and precious little odds
which, to you and me."
"I suppose you would hardly ask me
to call you a humane man," returned
the doctor with a sneer, "and so my
feelings may surprise you, Master
Silver. But if I were sure they were
raving—as I am morally certain one,
at least, of them is down with
fever—I should leave this camp, and
at whatever risk to my own carcass,
take them the assistance of my
skill."
"Ask your pardon, sir, you would be
very wrong," quoth Silver. "You
would lose your precious life, and
you may lay to that. I'm on your
side now, hand and glove; and I
shouldn't wish for to see the party
weakened, let alone yourself, seeing
as I know what I owes you. But these
men down there, they couldn't keep
their word—no, not supposing they
wished to; and what's more, they
couldn't believe as you could."
"No," said the doctor. "You're the
man to keep your word, we know
that."
Well, that was about the last news
we had of the three pirates. Only
once we heard a gunshot a great way
off and supposed them to be hunting.
A council was held, and it was
decided that we must desert them on
the island—to the huge glee, I must
say, of Ben Gunn, and with the
strong approval of Gray. We left a
good stock of powder and shot, the
bulk of the salt goat, a few
medicines, and some other
necessaries, tools, clothing, a
spare sail, a fathom or two of rope,
and by the particular desire of the
doctor, a handsome present of
tobacco.
That was about our last doing on the
island. Before that, we had got the
treasure stowed and had shipped
enough water and the remainder of
the goat meat in case of any
distress; and at last, one fine
morning, we weighed anchor, which
was about all that we could manage,
and stood out of North Inlet, the
same colours flying that the captain
had flown and fought under at the
palisade.
The three fellows must have been
watching us closer than we thought
for, as we soon had proved. For
coming through the narrows, we had
to lie very near the southern point,
and there we saw all three of them
kneeling together on a spit of sand,
with their arms raised in
supplication. It went to all our
hearts, I think, to leave them in
that wretched state; but we could
not risk another mutiny; and to take
them home for the gibbet would have
been a cruel sort of kindness. The
doctor hailed them and told them of
the stores we had left, and where
they were to find them. But they
continued to call us by name and
appeal to us, for God's sake, to be
merciful and not leave them to die
in such a place.
At last, seeing the ship still bore
on her course and was now swiftly
drawing out of earshot, one of
them—I know not which it was—leapt
to his feet with a hoarse cry,
whipped his musket to his shoulder,
and sent a shot whistling over
Silver's head and through the
main-sail.
After that, we kept under cover of
the bulwarks, and when next I looked
out they had disappeared from the
spit, and the spit itself had almost
melted out of sight in the growing
distance. That was, at least, the
end of that; and before noon, to my
inexpressible joy, the highest rock
of Treasure Island had sunk into the
blue round of sea.
We were so short of men that
everyone on board had to bear a
hand—only the captain lying on a
mattress in the stern and giving his
orders, for though greatly recovered
he was still in want of quiet. We
laid her head for the nearest port
in Spanish America, for we could not
risk the voyage home without fresh
hands; and as it was, what with
baffling winds and a couple of fresh
gales, we were all worn out before
we reached it.
It was just at sundown when we cast
anchor in a most beautiful
land-locked gulf, and were
immediately surrounded by shore
boats full of Negroes and Mexican
Indians and half-bloods selling
fruits and vegetables and offering
to dive for bits of money. The sight
of so many good-humoured faces
(especially the blacks), the taste
of the tropical fruits, and above
all the lights that began to shine
in the town made a most charming
contrast to our dark and bloody
sojourn on the island; and the
doctor and the squire, taking me
along with them, went ashore to pass
the early part of the night. Here
they met the captain of an English
man-of-war, fell in talk with him,
went on board his ship, and, in
short, had so agreeable a time that
day was breaking when we came
alongside the HISPANIOLA.
Ben Gunn was on deck alone, and as
soon as we came on board he began,
with wonderful contortions, to make
us a confession. Silver was gone.
The maroon had connived at his
escape in a shore boat some hours
ago, and he now assured us he had
only done so to preserve our lives,
which would certainly have been
forfeit if "that man with the one
leg had stayed aboard." But this was
not all. The sea-cook had not gone
empty-handed. He had cut through a
bulkhead unobserved and had removed
one of the sacks of coin, worth
perhaps three or four hundred
guineas, to help him on his further
wanderings.
I think we were all pleased to be so
cheaply quit of him.
Well, to make a long story short, we
got a few hands on board, made a
good cruise home, and the HISPANIOLA
reached Bristol just as Mr. Blandly
was beginning to think of fitting
out her consort. Five men only of
those who had sailed returned with
her. "Drink and the devil had done
for the rest," with a vengeance,
although, to be sure, we were not
quite in so bad a case as that other
ship they sang about:
With one man of her crew alive,
What put to sea with seventy-five.
All of us had an ample share of the
treasure and used it wisely or
foolishly, according to our natures.
Captain Smollett is now retired from
the sea. Gray not only saved his
money, but being suddenly smit with
the desire to rise, also studied his
profession, and he is now mate and
part owner of a fine full-rigged
ship, married besides, and the
father of a family. As for Ben Gunn,
he got a thousand pounds, which he
spent or lost in three weeks, or to
be more exact, in nineteen days, for
he was back begging on the
twentieth. Then he was given a lodge
to keep, exactly as he had feared
upon the island; and he still lives,
a great favourite, though something
of a butt, with the country boys,
and a notable singer in church on
Sundays and saints' days.
Of Silver we have heard no more.
That formidable seafaring man with
one leg has at last gone clean out
of my life; but I dare say he met
his old Negress, and perhaps still
lives in comfort with her and
Captain Flint. It is to be hoped so,
I suppose, for his chances of
comfort in another world are very
small.
The bar silver and the arms still
lie, for all that I know, where
Flint buried them; and certainly
they shall lie there for me. Oxen
and wain-ropes would not bring me
back again to that accursed island;
and the worst dreams that ever I
have are when I hear the surf
booming about its coasts or start
upright in bed with the sharp voice
of Captain Flint still ringing in my
ears: "Pieces of eight! Pieces of
eight!" |
