Treasure Island | Page 7

had risen earlier than usual and set
out down the beach, his cutlass swinging under the broad skirts of the old blue coat, his
brass telescope under his arm, his hat tilted back upon his head. I remember his breath
hanging like smoke in his wake as he strode off, and the last sound I heard of him as he
turned the big rock was a loud snort of indignation, as though his mind was still running
upon Dr. Livesey.
Well, mother was upstairs with father and I was laying the breakfast-table against the
captain's return when the parlour door opened and a man stepped in on whom I had never
set my eyes before. He was a pale, tallowy creature, wanting two fingers of the left hand,
and though he wore a cutlass, he did not look much like a fighter. I had always my eye
open for seafaring men, with one leg or two, and I remember this one puzzled me. He
was not sailorly, and yet he had a smack 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 fetch it, he sat down upon a table and motioned me to draw near. I
paused where I was, with my napkin in my hand.
"Come here, sonny," says he. "Come nearer here."
I took a step nearer.
"Is this here table for my mate Bill?" he asked with a kind of leer.
I told him I did not know his mate Bill, and this was for a person who stayed in our house
whom we called the captain.
"Well," said he, "my mate Bill would be called the captain, as like as not. He has a cut on
one cheek and a mighty pleasant way with him, particularly in drink, has my mate Bill.
We'll put it, for argument 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 mate 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 rock and told him how the captain was likely to return,
and how soon, and answered a few other questions, "Ah," said he, "this'll be as good as
drink to my mate Bill."
The expression of his face as he said these words was not at all pleasant, and I had my
own reasons for thinking that the stranger was mistaken, even supposing he meant what
he said. But it was no affair of mine, I thought; and besides, it was difficult to know what
to do. The stranger kept hanging about just inside the inn door, peering round the corner
like a cat waiting for a mouse. Once I stepped out myself into the road, but he

immediately called me back, and as I did not obey quick enough for his fancy, a most
horrible change came over his tallowy face, and he ordered me in with an oath that made
me jump. As soon as I was back again he returned to his former manner, half fawning,
half sneering, patted me on the shoulder, told me I was a good boy and he had taken quite
a fancy to me. "I have a son of my own," said he, "as like you as two blocks, and he's all
the pride of my 'art. But the great thing for boys is discipline, sonny--discipline. Now, if
you had sailed along of Bill, you wouldn't have stood there to be spoke to twice--not you.
That was never Bill's way, nor the way of sich as sailed with him. And here, sure enough,
is my mate Bill, with a spy-glass under his arm, bless his old 'art, to be sure. You and
me'll just go back into the parlour, sonny, and get behind the door, and we'll give Bill a
little surprise--bless his 'art, I say again."
So saying, the stranger backed along with me into the parlour and put me behind him in
the corner so that we were both hidden by the open door. I was very uneasy and alarmed,
as you may fancy, and it rather added to my fears to observe that the stranger was
certainly frightened himself. He cleared the hilt of his cutlass and loosened the blade in
the sheath; and all the time we were waiting there he kept swallowing as if he felt what
we used to call a lump in the throat.
At last in strode the captain, slammed the door behind him, without looking to the right or
left, and marched