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<h2> 33 </h2>
<h3> The Fall of a Chieftain </h3>
<p>THERE never was such an overturn in this world. Each of these six men was
as though he had been struck. But with Silver the blow passed almost
instantly. Every thought of his soul had been set full-stretch, like a
racer, on that money; well, he was brought up, in a single second, dead;
and he kept his head, found his temper, and changed his plan before the
others had had time to realize the disappointment.</p>
<p>"Jim," he whispered, "take that, and stand by for trouble."</p>
<p>And he passed me a double-barrelled pistol.</p>
<p>At the same time, he began quietly moving northward, and in a few steps
had put the hollow between us two and the other five. Then he looked at me
and nodded, as much as to say, "Here is a narrow corner," as, indeed, I
thought it was. His looks were not quite friendly, and I was so revolted
at these constant changes that I could not forbear whispering, "So you've
changed sides again."</p>
<p>There was no time left for him to answer in. The buccaneers, with oaths
and cries, began to leap, one after another, into the pit and to dig with
their fingers, throwing the boards aside as they did so. Morgan found a
piece of gold. He held it up with a perfect spout of oaths. It was a
two-guinea piece, and it went from hand to hand among them for a quarter
of a minute.</p>
<p>"Two guineas!" roared Merry, shaking it at Silver. "That's your seven
hundred thousand pounds, is it? You're the man for bargains, ain't you?
You're him that never bungled nothing, you wooden-headed lubber!"</p>
<p>"Dig away, boys," said Silver with the coolest insolence; "you'll find
some pig-nuts and I shouldn't wonder."</p>
<p>"Pig-nuts!" repeated Merry, in a scream. "Mates, do you hear that? I tell
you now, that man there knew it all along. Look in the face of him and
you'll see it wrote there."</p>
<p>"Ah, Merry," remarked Silver, "standing for cap'n again? You're a pushing
lad, to be sure."</p>
<p>But this time everyone was entirely in Merry's favour. They began to
scramble out of the excavation, darting furious glances behind them. One
thing I observed, which looked well for us: they all got out upon the
opposite side from Silver.</p>
<p>Well, there we stood, two on one side, five on the other, the pit between
us, and nobody screwed up high enough to offer the first blow. Silver
never moved; he watched them, very upright on his crutch, and looked as
cool as ever I saw him. He was brave, and no mistake.</p>
<p>At last Merry seemed to think a speech might help matters.</p>
<p>"Mates," says he, "there's two of them alone there; one's the old cripple
that brought us all here and blundered us down to this; the other's that
cub that I mean to have the heart of. Now, mates—"</p>
<p>He was raising his arm and his voice, and plainly meant to lead a charge.
But just then—crack! crack! crack!—three musket-shots flashed
out of the thicket. Merry tumbled head foremost into the excavation; the
man with the bandage spun round like a teetotum and fell all his length
upon his side, where he lay dead, but still twitching; and the other three
turned and ran for it with all their might.</p>
<p>Before you could wink, Long John had fired two barrels of a pistol into
the struggling Merry, and as the man rolled up his eyes at him in the last
agony, "George," said he, "I reckon I settled you."</p>
<p>At the same moment, the doctor, Gray, and Ben Gunn joined us, with smoking
muskets, from among the nutmeg-trees.</p>
<p>"Forward!" cried the doctor. "Double quick, my lads. We must head 'em off
the boats."</p>
<p>And we set off at a great pace, sometimes plunging through the bushes to
the chest.</p>
<p>I tell you, but Silver was anxious to keep up with us. The work that man
went through, leaping on his crutch till the muscles of his chest were fit
to burst, was work no sound man ever equalled; and so thinks the doctor.
As it was, he was already thirty yards behind us and on the verge of
strangling when we reached the brow of the slope.</p>
<p>"Doctor," he hailed, "see there! No hurry!"</p>
<p>Sure enough there was no hurry. In a more open part of the plateau, we
could see the three survivors still running in the same direction as they
had started, right for Mizzenmast Hill. We were already between them and
the boats; and so we four sat down to breathe, while Long John, mopping
his face, came slowly up with us.</p>
<p>"Thank ye kindly, doctor," says he. "You came in in about the nick, I
guess, for me and Hawkins. And so it's you, Ben Gunn!" he added. "Well,
you're a nice one, to be sure."</p>
<p>"I'm Ben Gunn, I am," replied the maroon, wriggling like an eel in his
embarrassment. "And," he added, after a long pause, "how do, Mr. Silver?
Pretty well, I thank ye, says you."</p>
<p>"Ben, Ben," murmured Silver, "to think as you've done me!"</p>
<p>The doctor sent back Gray for one of the pick-axes deserted, in their
flight, by the mutineers, and then as we proceeded leisurely downhill to
where the boats were lying, related in a few words what had taken place.
It was a story that profoundly interested Silver; and Ben Gunn, the
half-idiot maroon, was the hero from beginning to end.</p>
<p>Ben, in his long, lonely wanderings about the island, had found the
skeleton—it was he that had rifled it; he had found the treasure; he
had dug it up (it was the haft of his pick-axe that lay broken in the
excavation); he had carried it on his back, in many weary journeys, from
the foot of the tall pine to a cave he had on the two-pointed hill at the
north-east angle of the island, and there it had lain stored in safety
since two months before the arrival of the HISPANIOLA.</p>
<p>When the doctor had wormed this secret from him on the afternoon of the
attack, and when next morning he saw the anchorage deserted, he had gone
to Silver, given him the chart, which was now useless—given him the
stores, for Ben Gunn's cave was well supplied with goats' meat salted by
himself—given anything and everything to get a chance of moving in
safety from the stockade to the two-pointed hill, there to be clear of
malaria and keep a guard upon the money.</p>
<p>"As for you, Jim," he said, "it went against my heart, but I did what I
thought best for those who had stood by their duty; and if you were not
one of these, whose fault was it?"</p>
<p>That morning, finding that I was to be involved in the horrid
disappointment he had prepared for the mutineers, he had run all the way
to the cave, and leaving the squire to guard the captain, had taken Gray
and the maroon and started, making the diagonal across the island to be at
hand beside the pine. Soon, however, he saw that our party had the start
of him; and Ben Gunn, being fleet of foot, had been dispatched in front to
do his best alone. Then it had occurred to him to work upon the
superstitions of his former shipmates, and he was so far successful that
Gray and the doctor had come up and were already ambushed before the
arrival of the treasure-hunters.</p>
<p>"Ah," said Silver, "it were fortunate for me that I had Hawkins here. You
would have let old John be cut to bits, and never given it a thought,
doctor."</p>
<p>"Not a thought," replied Dr. Livesey cheerily.</p>
<p>And by this time we had reached the gigs. The doctor, with the pick-axe,
demolished one of them, and then we all got aboard the other and set out
to go round by sea for North Inlet.</p>
<p>This was a run of eight or nine miles. Silver, though he was almost killed
already with fatigue, was set to an oar, like the rest of us, and we were
soon skimming swiftly over a smooth sea. Soon we passed out of the straits
and doubled the south-east corner of the island, round which, four days
ago, we had towed the HISPANIOLA.</p>
<p>As we passed the two-pointed hill, we could see the black mouth of Ben
Gunn's cave and a figure standing by it, leaning on a musket. It was the
squire, and we waved a handkerchief and gave him three cheers, in which
the voice of Silver joined as heartily as any.</p>
<p>Three miles farther, just inside the mouth of North Inlet, what should we
meet but the HISPANIOLA, cruising by herself? The last flood had lifted
her, and had there been much wind or a strong tide current, as in the
southern anchorage, we should never have found her more, or found her
stranded beyond help. As it was, there was little amiss beyond the wreck
of the main-sail. Another anchor was got ready and dropped in a fathom and
a half of water. We all pulled round again to Rum Cove, the nearest point
for Ben Gunn's treasure-house; and then Gray, single-handed, returned with
the gig to the HISPANIOLA, where he was to pass the night on guard.</p>
<p>A gentle slope ran up from the beach to the entrance of the cave. At the
top, the squire met us. To me he was cordial and kind, saying nothing of
my escapade either in the way of blame or praise. At Silver's polite
salute he somewhat flushed.</p>
<p>"John Silver," he said, "you're a prodigious villain and imposter—a
monstrous imposter, sir. I am told I am not to prosecute you. Well, then,
I will not. But the dead men, sir, hang about your neck like mill-stones."</p>
<p>"Thank you kindly, sir," replied Long John, again saluting.</p>
<p>"I dare you to thank me!" cried the squire. "It is a gross dereliction of
my duty. Stand back."</p>
<p>And thereupon we all entered the cave. It was a large, airy place, with a
little spring and a pool of clear water, overhung with ferns. The floor
was sand. Before a big fire lay Captain Smollett; and in a far corner,
only duskily flickered over by the blaze, I beheld great heaps of coin and
quadrilaterals built of bars of gold. That was Flint's treasure that we
had come so far to seek and that had cost already the lives of seventeen
men from the HISPANIOLA. How many it had cost in the amassing, what blood
and sorrow, what good ships scuttled on the deep, what brave men walking
the plank blindfold, what shot of cannon, what shame and lies and cruelty,
perhaps no man alive could tell. Yet there were still three upon that
island—Silver, and old Morgan, and Ben Gunn—who had each taken
his share in these crimes, as each had hoped in vain to share in the
reward.</p>
<p>"Come in, Jim," said the captain. "You're a good boy in your line, Jim,
but I don't think you and me'll go to sea again. You're too much of the
born favourite for me. Is that you, John Silver? What brings you here,
man?"</p>
<p>"Come back to my dooty, sir," returned Silver.</p>
<p>"Ah!" said the captain, and that was all he said.</p>
<p>What a supper I had of it that night, with all my friends around me; and
what a meal it was, with Ben Gunn's salted goat and some delicacies and a
bottle of old wine from the HISPANIOLA. Never, I am sure, were people
gayer or happier. And there was Silver, sitting back almost out of the
firelight, but eating heartily, prompt to spring forward when anything was
wanted, even joining quietly in our laughter—the same bland, polite,
obsequious seaman of the voyage out.</p>
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<h2> 34 </h2>
<h3> And Last </h3>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>"Heaven forgive them," said the doctor; "'tis the mutineers!"</p>
<p>"All drunk, sir," struck in the voice of Silver from behind us.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>"Drunk or raving," said he.</p>
<p>"Right you were, sir," replied Silver; "and precious little odds which, to
you and me."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"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."</p>
<p>"No," said the doctor. "You're the man to keep your word, we know that."</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>I think we were all pleased to be so cheaply quit of him.</p>
<p>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:</p>
<p>With one man of her crew alive,<br/>
What put to sea with seventy-five.<br/></p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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.</p>
<p>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!"</p>
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