Treasure Island | Page 5

an old shipmate, Bill, surely,"
said the stranger.
The captain made a sort of gasp.
"Black Dog!" said he.
"And who else?" returned the other, getting more at his ease. "Black
Dog as ever was, come for to see his old shipmate Billy, at the Admiral
Benbow inn. Ah, Bill, Bill, we have seen a sight of times, us two, since I
lost them two talons," holding up his mutilated hand.
"Now, look here," said the captain; "you've run me down; here I am;
well, then, speak up; what is it?"
"That's you, Bill," returned Black Dog, "you're in the right of it, Billy.
I'll have a glass of rum from this dear child here, as I've took such a lik-
ing to; and we'll sit down, if you please, and talk square, like old
shipmates."
When I returned with the rum, they were already seated on either side
of the captain's breakfast-table—Black Dog next to the door and sitting
sideways so as to have one eye on his old shipmate and one, as I
thought, on his retreat.
He bade me go and leave the door wide open. "None of your keyholes
for me, sonny," he said; and I left them together and retired into the bar.
"For a long time, though I certainly did my best to listen, I could hear
nothing but a low gattling; but at last the voices began to grow higher,
and I could pick up a word or two, mostly oaths, from the captain.
"No, no, no, no; and an end of it!" he cried once. And again, "If it comes
to swinging, swing all, say I."
Then all of a sudden there was a tremendous explosion of oaths and
other noises—the chair and table went over in a lump, a clash of steel fol-
lowed, and then a cry of pain, and the next instant I saw Black Dog in
full flight, and the captain hotly pursuing, both with drawn cutlasses,
and the former streaming blood from the left shoulder. Just at the door
11

the captain aimed at the fugitive one last tremendous cut, which would
certainly have split him to the chine had it not been intercepted by our
big signboard of Admiral Benbow. You may see the notch on the lower
side of the frame to this day.
That blow was the last of the battle. Once out upon the road, Black
Dog, in spite of his wound, showed a wonderful clean pair of heels and
disappeared over the edge of the hill in half a minute. The captain, for
his part, stood staring at the signboard like a bewildered man. Then he
passed his hand over his eyes several times and at last turned back into
the house.
"Jim," says he, "rum"; and as he spoke, he reeled a little, and caught
himself with one hand against the wall.
"Are you hurt?" cried I.
"Rum," he repeated. "I must get away from here. Rum! Rum!"
I ran to fetch it, but I was quite unsteadied by all that had fallen out,
and I broke one glass and fouled the tap, and while I was still getting in
my own way, I heard a loud fall in the parlour, and running in, beheld
the captain lying full length upon the floor. At the same instant my
mother, alarmed by the cries and fighting, came running downstairs to
help me. Between us we raised his head. He was breathing very loud
and hard, but his eyes were closed and his face a horrible colour.
"Dear, deary me," cried my mother, "what a disgrace upon the house!
And your poor father sick!"
In the meantime, we had no idea what to do to help the captain, nor
any other thought but that he had got his death-hurt in the scuffle with
the stranger. I got the rum, to be sure, and tried to put it down his throat,
but his teeth were tightly shut and his jaws as strong as iron. It was a
happy relief for us when the door opened and Doctor Livesey came in,
on his visit to my father.
"Oh, doctor," we cried, "what shall we do? Where is he wounded?"
"Wounded? A fiddle-stick's end!" said the doctor. "No more wounded
than you or I. The man has had a stroke, as I warned him. Now, Mrs.
Hawkins, just you run upstairs to your husband and tell him, if possible,
nothing about it. For my part, I must do my best to save this fellow's
trebly worthless life; Jim, you get me a basin."
When I got back with the basin, the doctor had already ripped up the
captain's sleeve and exposed his great sinewy arm. It was tattooed in
several places. "Here's luck," "A fair wind," and "Billy Bones his fancy,"
were very neatly and clearly executed on the forearm; and up near the
12

shoulder there was a sketch of a gallows and a man hanging from
it—done, as I thought, with great spirit.
"Prophetic," said the doctor, touching this picture with his finger. "And
now, Master Billy Bones, if that be your name, we'll have a look at the
colour of your blood. Jim," he said, "are you afraid