Silver’s Mission

Sure enough, there were two men just outside the stockade, one of them waving a white cloth, the other, no less a person than Silver himself, standing placidly by.

Sure enough, two men were just outside the stockade. One was waving a white cloth. The other was none other than Silver himself, standing calmly beside him.

It was still quite early, and the coldest morning that I think I ever was abroad in—a chill that pierced into the marrow. The sky was bright and cloudless overhead, and the tops of the trees shone rosily in the sun. But where Silver stood with his lieutenant, all was still in shadow, and they waded knee-deep in a low white vapour that had crawled during the night out of the morass. The chill and the vapour taken together told a poor tale of the island. It was plainly a damp, feverish, unhealthy spot.

It was still quite early, and I think it was the coldest morning I had ever been outdoors. The chill went straight to the bone. The sky overhead was bright and cloudless, and the treetops glowed pink in the sun. But Silver and his lieutenant stood in shadow, wading knee-deep in a low white mist. The mist had crept out of the swamp during the night. The chill and the mist together said little good about the island. It was clearly a damp, unhealthy place where fever was a danger.

“Keep indoors, men,” said the captain. “Ten to one this is a trick.”

“Stay inside, men,” said the captain. “This is almost certainly a trick.”

Then he hailed the buccaneer.

Then he called out to the pirate.

“Who goes? Stand, or we fire.”

“Who’s there? Stop, or we’ll shoot.”

“Flag of truce,” cried Silver.

“Flag of truce,” shouted Silver.

The captain was in the porch, keeping himself carefully out of the way of a treacherous shot, should any be intended. He turned and spoke to us, “Doctor’s watch on the lookout. Dr. Livesey take the north side, if you please; Jim, the east; Gray, west. The watch below, all hands to load muskets. Lively, men, and careful.”

The captain stood in the porch, carefully keeping out of the way in case anyone tried to shoot him. He turned and spoke to us, “The doctor’s watch, keep lookout. Dr. Livesey, take the north side, please. Jim, the east. Gray, the west. Everyone on the off watch, load the muskets. Be quick, men, and careful.”

And then he turned again to the mutineers.

Then he turned back to the mutineers.

“And what do you want with your flag of truce?” he cried.

“And what do you want with your flag of truce?” he shouted.

This time it was the other man who replied.

This time, the other man answered.

“Cap’n Silver, sir, to come on board and make terms,” he shouted.

“Captain Silver, sir, wants to come aboard and negotiate terms,” he shouted.

“Cap’n Silver! Don’t know him. Who’s he?” cried the captain. And we could hear him adding to himself, “Cap’n, is it? My heart, and here’s promotion!”

“Captain Silver! I don’t know him. Who is he?” cried the captain. We could hear him add to himself, “Captain, is it? Well, that’s a promotion!”

Long John answered for himself. “Me, sir. These poor lads have chosen me cap’n, after your desertion, sir”—laying a particular emphasis upon the word “desertion.” “We’re willing to submit, if we can come to terms, and no bones about it. All I ask is your word, Cap’n Smollett, to let me safe and sound out of this here stockade, and one minute to get out o’ shot before a gun is fired.”

Long John answered for himself. “Me, sir. These poor lads chose me as captain after you deserted them, sir.” He put special emphasis on the word “deserted.” “We’re willing to submit if we can agree on terms, plain and simple. All I ask, Captain Smollett, is your word that you’ll let me leave this stockade safe and sound. And give me one minute to get out of shooting range before anyone fires a gun.”

“My man,” said Captain Smollett, “I have not the slightest desire to talk to you. If you wish to talk to me, you can come, that’s all. If there’s any treachery, it’ll be on your side, and the Lord help you.”

“My man,” said Captain Smollett, “I have no desire to talk to you. If you want to talk to me, you can come. That’s all. If there’s any treachery, it will be on your side, and Lord help you.”

“That’s enough, Cap’n,” shouted Long John cheerily. “A word from you’s enough. I know a gentleman, and you may lay to that.”

“That’s enough, Captain,” Long John shouted cheerfully. “Your word is enough. I know a gentleman when I see one. You can count on that.”

We could see the man who carried the flag of truce attempting to hold Silver back. Nor was that wonderful, seeing how cavalier had been the captain’s answer. But Silver laughed at him aloud and slapped him on the back as if the idea of alarm had been absurd. Then he advanced to the stockade, threw over his crutch, got a leg up, and with great vigour and skill succeeded in surmounting the fence and dropping safely to the other side.

We could see the man carrying the flag of truce trying to hold Silver back. That was not surprising, given the captain’s dismissive answer. But Silver laughed out loud and slapped the man on the back, as if there were nothing to fear. Then he approached the stockade and threw his crutch over it. He got one leg up and, with great energy and skill, climbed over the fence and dropped safely onto the other side.

I will confess that I was far too much taken up with what was going on to be of the slightest use as sentry; indeed, I had already deserted my eastern loophole and crept up behind the captain, who had now seated himself on the threshold, with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, and his eyes fixed on the water as it bubbled out of the old iron kettle in the sand. He was whistling “Come, Lasses and Lads.”

I confess that I was far too caught up in what was happening to be any use as a sentry. In fact, I had already left my eastern loophole and crept up behind the captain. He was now sitting in the doorway, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. He stared at the water bubbling out of the old iron kettle in the sand. He was whistling “Come, Lasses and Lads.”

Silver had terrible hard work getting up the knoll. What with the steepness of the incline, the thick tree stumps, and the soft sand, he and his crutch were as helpless as a ship in stays. But he stuck to it like a man in silence, and at last arrived before the captain, whom he saluted in the handsomest style. He was tricked out in his best; an immense blue coat, thick with brass buttons, hung as low as to his knees, and a fine laced hat was set on the back of his head.

Silver had a terribly hard time climbing the hill. The slope was steep, the tree stumps were thick, and the sand was soft. He and his crutch were as helpless as a ship trying to turn into the wind. But he kept at it in silence, like a man, and finally reached the captain. He greeted the captain with his finest salute. Silver was dressed in his best clothes. An enormous blue coat, covered in brass buttons, hung down to his knees. A fine hat trimmed with lace sat on the back of his head.

“Here you are, my man,” said the captain, raising his head. “You had better sit down.”

“There you are, my man,” said the captain, lifting his head. “You should sit down.”

“You ain’t a-going to let me inside, Cap’n?” complained Long John. “It’s a main cold morning, to be sure, sir, to sit outside upon the sand.”

“You’re not going to let me inside, Captain?” complained Long John. “It’s a very cold morning to sit outside on the sand, sir.”

“Why, Silver,” said the captain, “if you had pleased to be an honest man, you might have been sitting in your galley. It’s your own doing. You’re either my ship’s cook—and then you were treated handsome—or Cap’n Silver, a common mutineer and pirate, and then you can go hang!”

“Why, Silver,” said the captain, “if you had chosen to be an honest man, you could be sitting in your galley. This is your own doing. Either you’re my ship’s cook, and you were treated well, or you’re Captain Silver, a common mutineer and pirate. In that case, you can go hang!”

“Well, well, Cap’n,” returned the sea-cook, sitting down as he was bidden on the sand, “you’ll have to give me a hand up again, that’s all. A sweet pretty place you have of it here. Ah, there’s Jim! The top of the morning to you, Jim. Doctor, here’s my service. Why, there you all are together like a happy family, in a manner of speaking.”

“Well, well, Captain,” replied the sea cook, sitting down on the sand as he was told. “You’ll have to help me up again, that’s all. You have a lovely place here. Ah, there’s Jim! Good morning, Jim. Doctor, my respects to you. Why, here you all are together, like a happy family, in a manner of speaking.”

“If you have anything to say, my man, better say it,” said the captain.

“If you have anything to say, you’d better say it,” said the captain.

“Right you were, Cap’n Smollett,” replied Silver. “Dooty is dooty, to be sure. Well now, you look here, that was a good lay of yours last night. I don’t deny it was a good lay. Some of you pretty handy with a handspike-end. And I’ll not deny neither but what some of my people was shook—maybe all was shook; maybe I was shook myself; maybe that’s why I’m here for terms. But you mark me, Cap’n, it won’t do twice, by thunder! We’ll have to do sentry-go and ease off a point or so on the rum. Maybe you think we were all a sheet in the wind’s eye. But I’ll tell you I was sober; I was on’y dog tired; and if I’d awoke a second sooner, I’d ’a caught you at the act, I would. He wasn’t dead when I got round to him, not he.”

“You were right, Captain Smollett,” replied Silver. “Duty is duty, sure enough. Now look here, that was a good plan of yours last night. I won’t deny it. Some of you are pretty handy with the end of a handspike. And I won’t deny that some of my men were shaken. Maybe they were all shaken. Maybe I was shaken myself. Maybe that’s why I’m here to discuss terms. But mark my words, Captain, that trick won’t work twice, by thunder! We’ll have to post sentries and cut back a little on the rum. Maybe you think we were all drunk. But I’ll tell you, I was sober. I was just dog tired. If I’d woken up a second sooner, I’d have caught you in the act, I would. He wasn’t dead when I got to him, no sir.”

“Well?” says Captain Smollett as cool as can be.

“Well?” says Captain Smollett, as calm as can be.

All that Silver said was a riddle to him, but you would never have guessed it from his tone. As for me, I began to have an inkling. Ben Gunn’s last words came back to my mind. I began to suppose that he had paid the buccaneers a visit while they all lay drunk together round their fire, and I reckoned up with glee that we had only fourteen enemies to deal with.

Everything Silver said was a mystery to him, but you would never have guessed it from his tone. As for me, I began to suspect something. I remembered Ben Gunn’s last words. I began to think he had visited the buccaneers while they all lay drunk around their fire. I counted with delight that we had only fourteen enemies to deal with.

“Well, here it is,” said Silver. “We want that treasure, and we’ll have it—that’s our point! You would just as soon save your lives, I reckon; and that’s yours. You have a chart, haven’t you?”

“Well, here’s the situation,” said Silver. “We want that treasure, and we’ll have it. That’s what we want! I reckon you’d rather save your lives, and that’s what you want. You have a map, don’t you?”

“That’s as may be,” replied the captain.

“That may be true,” replied the captain.

“Oh, well, you have, I know that,” returned Long John. “You needn’t be so husky with a man; there ain’t a particle of service in that, and you may lay to it. What I mean is, we want your chart. Now, I never meant you no harm, myself.”

“Oh, well, you have. I know that,” replied Long John. “You don’t need to be so rough with a man. It won’t do any good, you can be sure of that. What I mean is, we want your map. Now, I never meant you any harm myself.”

“That won’t do with me, my man,” interrupted the captain. “We know exactly what you meant to do, and we don’t care, for now, you see, you can’t do it.”

“That won’t work on me, my man,” the captain interrupted. “We know exactly what you meant to do. And we don’t care, because now you can’t do it.”

And the captain looked at him calmly and proceeded to fill a pipe.

The captain looked at him calmly and began to fill a pipe.

“If Abe Gray—” Silver broke out.

“If Abe Gray...” Silver exclaimed.

“Avast there!” cried Mr. Smollett. “Gray told me nothing, and I asked him nothing; and what’s more, I would see you and him and this whole island blown clean out of the water into blazes first. So there’s my mind for you, my man, on that.”

“Stop right there!” cried Mr. Smollett. “Gray told me nothing, and I asked him nothing. What’s more, I’d rather see you, him, and this whole island blown to hell first. So now you know what I think about that, my man.”

This little whiff of temper seemed to cool Silver down. He had been growing nettled before, but now he pulled himself together.

This little flash of anger seemed to calm Silver down. He had been getting irritated, but now he regained his composure.

“Like enough,” said he. “I would set no limits to what gentlemen might consider shipshape, or might not, as the case were. And seein’ as how you are about to take a pipe, Cap’n, I’ll make so free as do likewise.”

“Quite possibly,” he said. “I wouldn’t presume to say what gentlemen might or might not consider shipshape. And since you’re about to smoke a pipe, Captain, I’ll take the liberty of doing the same.”

And he filled a pipe and lighted it; and the two men sat silently smoking for quite a while, now looking each other in the face, now stopping their tobacco, now leaning forward to spit. It was as good as the play to see them.

He filled a pipe and lit it. The two men sat smoking in silence for quite a while. Now and then, they looked each other in the face, tamped down their tobacco, or leaned forward to spit. Watching them was as good as watching a play.

“Now,” resumed Silver, “here it is. You give us the chart to get the treasure by, and drop shooting poor seamen and stoving of their heads in while asleep. You do that, and we’ll offer you a choice. Either you come aboard along of us, once the treasure shipped, and then I’ll give you my affy-davy, upon my word of honour, to clap you somewhere safe ashore. Or if that ain’t to your fancy, some of my hands being rough and having old scores on account of hazing, then you can stay here, you can. We’ll divide stores with you, man for man; and I’ll give my affy-davy, as before to speak the first ship I sight, and send ’em here to pick you up. Now, you’ll own that’s talking. Handsomer you couldn’t look to get, now you. And I hope”—raising his voice—“that all hands in this here block house will overhaul my words, for what is spoke to one is spoke to all.”

“Now,” Silver continued, “here’s the deal. Give us the map to the treasure. Stop shooting poor sailors and smashing their heads in while they sleep. Do that, and we’ll offer you a choice. Once the treasure is aboard, you can come with us. I’ll give you my sworn promise, on my word of honour, to put you ashore somewhere safe. But that might not suit you. Some of my men are rough, and they have old scores to settle over how they were treated. If you prefer, you can stay here. We’ll share the supplies with you, an equal share for each man. And I’ll give you my sworn promise, as before, to hail the first ship I see. I’ll send them here to pick you up. Now, you have to admit that’s a fair offer. You couldn’t hope for a better one. And I hope,” he said, raising his voice, “that everyone in this blockhouse will think over my words. What I say to one, I say to all.”

Captain Smollett rose from his seat and knocked out the ashes of his pipe in the palm of his left hand.

Captain Smollett stood up and knocked the ashes from his pipe into his left palm.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“Is that all?” he asked.

“Every last word, by thunder!” answered John. “Refuse that, and you’ve seen the last of me but musket-balls.”

“Every last word, by thunder!” John answered. “Refuse, and you’ll see nothing more of me except musket balls.”

“Very good,” said the captain. “Now you’ll hear me. If you’ll come up one by one, unarmed, I’ll engage to clap you all in irons and take you home to a fair trial in England. If you won’t, my name is Alexander Smollett, I’ve flown my sovereign’s colours, and I’ll see you all to Davy Jones. You can’t find the treasure. You can’t sail the ship—there’s not a man among you fit to sail the ship. You can’t fight us—Gray, there, got away from five of you. Your ship’s in irons, Master Silver; you’re on a lee shore, and so you’ll find. I stand here and tell you so; and they’re the last good words you’ll get from me, for in the name of heaven, I’ll put a bullet in your back when next I meet you. Tramp, my lad. Bundle out of this, please, hand over hand, and double quick.”

“Very well,” said the captain. “Now listen to me. If you come up one by one, unarmed, I promise to put you all in chains. Then I’ll take you home to a fair trial in England. If you won’t, my name is Alexander Smollett, and I’ve raised my sovereign’s flag. I’ll send you all to Davy Jones. You can’t find the treasure. You can’t sail the ship. There isn’t a man among you who can sail her. You can’t fight us. Gray there got away from five of you. Your ship’s stuck facing the wind, Master Silver. You’re on a lee shore, and you’ll find that out. I’m standing here telling you so. And those are the last kind words you’ll get from me. For heaven’s sake, I’ll put a bullet in your back the next time I meet you. Move along, lad. Get out of here, please. Climb down hand over hand, and be quick about it.”

Silver’s face was a picture; his eyes started in his head with wrath. He shook the fire out of his pipe.

Silver’s face was a sight. His eyes bulged with anger. He shook the burning tobacco out of his pipe.

“Give me a hand up!” he cried.

“Help me up!” he cried.

“Not I,” returned the captain.

“Not me,” replied the captain.

“Who’ll give me a hand up?” he roared.

“Who’ll help me up?” he roared.

Not a man among us moved. Growling the foulest imprecations, he crawled along the sand till he got hold of the porch and could hoist himself again upon his crutch. Then he spat into the spring.

None of us moved. Growling the foulest curses, he crawled across the sand until he reached the porch. He grabbed it and pulled himself up on his crutch again. Then he spat into the spring.

“There!” he cried. “That’s what I think of ye. Before an hour’s out, I’ll stove in your old block house like a rum puncheon. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Before an hour’s out, ye’ll laugh upon the other side. Them that die’ll be the lucky ones.”

“There!” he cried. “That’s what I think of you. Within an hour, I’ll smash your old blockhouse like a rum barrel. Laugh, damn you, laugh! Within an hour, you’ll be laughing on the other side of your faces. Those who die will be the lucky ones.”

And with a dreadful oath he stumbled off, ploughed down the sand, was helped across the stockade, after four or five failures, by the man with the flag of truce, and disappeared in an instant afterwards among the trees.

With a terrible curse, he stumbled off and trudged through the sand. After four or five failed attempts, the man with the flag of truce helped him across the stockade. A moment later, he disappeared among the trees.