The Black Spot Again

THE council of buccaneers had lasted some

time, when one of them re-entered the

house, and with a repetition of the same

salute, which had in my eyes an ironical

air, begged for a moment's loan of the

torch.

Silver briefly agreed, and this emissary

retired again, leaving us together in the

dark.

"There's a breeze coming, Jim," said

Silver, who had by this time adopted quite

a friendly and familiar tone.

I turned to the loophole nearest me and

looked out.

The embers of the great fire had so far

burned themselves out and now glowed so low

and duskily that I understood why these

conspirators desired a torch.

About half-way down the slope to the

stockade, they were collected in a group;

one held the light, another was on his

knees in their midst, and I saw the blade

of an open knife shine in his hand with

varying colours in the moon and torchlight.

The rest were all somewhat stooping, as

though watching the manoeuvres of this

last.

I could just make out that he had a book as

well as a knife in his hand, and was still

wondering how anything so incongruous had

come in their possession when the kneeling

figure rose once more to his feet and the

whole party began to move together towards

the house.

"Here they come," said I; and I returned to

my former position, for it seemed beneath

my dignity that they should find me

watching them.

"Well, let 'em come, lad--let 'em come,"

said Silver cheerily.

"I've still a shot in my locker."

The door opened, and the five men, standing

huddled together just inside, pushed one of

their number forward.

In any other circumstances it would have

been comical to see his slow advance,

hesitating as he set down each foot, but

holding his closed right hand in front of

him.

"Step up, lad," cried Silver.

"I won't eat you.

Hand it over, lubber.

I know the rules, I do; I won't hurt a

depytation."

Thus encouraged, the buccaneer stepped

forth more briskly, and having passed

something to Silver, from hand to hand,

slipped yet more smartly back again to his

companions.

The sea-cook looked at what had been given

him.

"The black spot!

I thought so," he observed.

"Where might you have got the paper?

Why, hillo!

Look here, now; this ain't lucky!

You've gone and cut this out of a Bible.

What fool's cut a Bible?"

"Ah, there!" said Morgan.

"There!

Wot did I say?

No good'll come o' that, I said."

"Well, you've about fixed it now, among

you," continued Silver.

"You'll all swing now, I reckon.

What soft-headed lubber had a Bible?"

"It was Dick," said one.

"Dick, was it?

Then Dick can get to prayers," said Silver.

"He's seen his slice of luck, has Dick, and

you may lay to that."

But here the long man with the yellow eyes

struck in.

"Belay that talk, John Silver," he said.

"This crew has tipped you the black spot in

full council, as in dooty bound; just you

turn it over, as in dooty bound, and see

what's wrote there.

Then you can talk."

"Thanky, George," replied the sea-cook.

"You always was brisk for business, and has

the rules by heart, George, as I'm pleased

to see.

Well, what is it, anyway?

Ah! 'Deposed'--that's it, is it?

Very pretty wrote, to be sure; like print,

I swear.

Your hand o' write, George?

Why, you was gettin' quite a leadin' man in

this here crew.

You'll be cap'n next, I shouldn't wonder.

Just oblige me with that torch again, will

you?

This pipe don't draw."

"Come, now," said George, "you don't fool

this crew no more.

You're a funny man, by your account; but

you're over now, and you'll maybe step down

off that barrel and help vote."

"I thought you said you knowed the rules,"

returned Silver contemptuously.

"Leastways, if you don't, I do; and I wait

here--and I'm still your cap'n, mind--till

you outs with your grievances and I reply;

in the meantime, your black spot ain't

worth a biscuit.

After that, we'll see."

"Oh," replied George, "you don't be under

no kind of apprehension; WE'RE all square,

we are.

First, you've made a hash of this cruise--

you'll be a bold man to say no to that.

Second, you let the enemy out o' this here

trap for nothing.

Why did they want out?

I dunno, but it's pretty plain they wanted

it.

Third, you wouldn't let us go at them upon

the march.

Oh, we see through you, John Silver; you

want to play booty, that's what's wrong

with you.

And then, fourth, there's this here boy."

"Is that all?" asked Silver quietly.

"Enough, too," retorted George.

"We'll all swing and sun-dry for your

bungling."

"Well now, look here, I'll answer these

four p'ints; one after another I'll answer

'em.

I made a hash o' this cruise, did I?

Well now, you all know what I wanted, and

you all know if that had been done that

we'd 'a been aboard the HISPANIOLA this

night as ever was, every man of us alive,

and fit, and full of good plum-duff, and

the treasure in the hold of her, by

thunder!

Well, who crossed me?

Who forced my hand, as was the lawful

cap'n?

Who tipped me the black spot the day we

landed and began this dance?

Ah, it's a fine dance--I'm with you there--

and looks mighty like a hornpipe in a

rope's end at Execution Dock by London

town, it does.

But who done it?

Why, it was Anderson, and Hands, and you,

George Merry!

And you're the last above board of that

same meddling crew; and you have the Davy

Jones's insolence to up and stand for cap'n

over me--you, that sank the lot of us!

By the powers!

But this tops the stiffest yarn to

nothing."

Silver paused, and I could see by the faces

of George and his late comrades that these

words had not been said in vain.

"That's for number one," cried the accused,

wiping the sweat from his brow, for he had

been talking with a vehemence that shook

the house.

"Why, I give you my word, I'm sick to speak

to you.

You've neither sense nor memory, and I

leave it to fancy where your mothers was

that let you come to sea.

Sea! Gentlemen o' fortune!

I reckon tailors is your trade."

"Go on, John," said Morgan.

"Speak up to the others."

"Ah, the others!" returned John.

"They're a nice lot, ain't they?

You say this cruise is bungled.

Ah! By gum, if you could understand how bad

it's bungled, you would see!

We're that near the gibbet that my neck's

stiff with thinking on it.

You've seen 'em, maybe, hanged in chains,

birds about 'em, seamen p'inting 'em out as

they go down with the tide.

'Who's that?' says one.

'That!

Why, that's John Silver.

I knowed him well,' says another.

And you can hear the chains a-jangle as you

go about and reach for the other buoy.

Now, that's about where we are, every

mother's son of us, thanks to him, and

Hands, and Anderson, and other ruination

fools of you.

And if you want to know about number four,

and that boy, why, shiver my timbers, isn't

he a hostage?

Are we a-going to waste a hostage?

No, not us; he might be our last chance,

and I shouldn't wonder.

Kill that boy?

Not me, mates!

And number three?

Ah, well, there's a deal to say to number

three.

Maybe you don't count it nothing to have a

real college doctor to see you every day--

you, John, with your head broke--or you,

George Merry, that had the ague shakes upon

you not six hours agone, and has your eyes

the colour of lemon peel to this same

moment on the clock?

And maybe, perhaps, you didn't know there

was a consort coming either?

But there is, and not so long till then;

and we'll see who'll be glad to have a

hostage when it comes to that.

And as for number two, and why I made a

bargain--well, you came crawling on your

knees to me to make it--on your knees you

came, you was that downhearted--and you'd

have starved too if I hadn't--but that's a

trifle!

You look there--that's why!"

And he cast down upon the floor a paper

that I instantly recognized--none other

than the chart on yellow paper, with the

three red crosses, that I had found in the

oilcloth at the bottom of the captain's

chest.

Why the doctor had given it to him was more

than I could fancy.

But if it were inexplicable to me, the

appearance of the chart was incredible to

the surviving mutineers.

They leaped upon it like cats upon a mouse.

It went from hand to hand, one tearing it

from another; and by the oaths and the

cries and the childish laughter with which

they accompanied their examination, you

would have thought, not only they were

fingering the very gold, but were at sea

with it, besides, in safety.

"Yes," said one, "that's Flint, sure

enough.

J. F., and a score below, with a clove

hitch to it; so he done ever."

"Mighty pretty," said George.

"But how are we to get away with it, and us

no ship."

Silver suddenly sprang up, and supporting

himself with a hand against the wall: "Now

I give you warning, George," he cried.

"One more word of your sauce, and I'll call

you down and fight you.

How?

Why, how do I know?

You had ought to tell me that--you and the