Part One: The Old Buccaneer - Chapter 6: The Captain's Papers

by Robert Louis Stevenson

　　We rode hard all the way till we drew up before Dr.Livesey's door. The house was all dark to the front.

　　Mr. Dance told me to jump down and knock, and Doggergave me a stirrup to descend by. The door was openedalmost at once by the maid.

　　"Is Dr. Livesey in?" I asked.

　　No, she said, he had come home in the afternoon but had goneup to the hall to dine and pass the evening with the squire.

　　"So there we go, boys," said Mr. Dance.

　　This time, as the distance was short, I did not mount,but ran with Dogger's stirrup-leather to the lodgegates and up the long, leafless, moonlit avenue towhere the white line of the hall buildings looked oneither hand on great old gardens. Here Mr. Dancedismounted, and taking me along with him, was admittedat a word into the house.

　　The servant led us down a matted passage and showed usat the end into a great library, all lined withbookcases and busts upon the top of them, where thesquire and Dr. Livesey sat, pipe in hand, on eitherside of a bright fire.

　　I had never seen the squire so near at hand. He was atall man, over six feet high, and broad in proportion,and he had a bluff, rough-and-ready face, all roughenedand reddened and lined in his long travels. Hiseyebrows were very black, and moved readily, and thisgave him a look of some temper, not bad, you would say,but quick and high.

　　"Come in, Mr. Dance," says he, very stately and condescending.

　　"Good evening, Dance," says the doctor with a nod."And good evening to you, friend Jim. What good windbrings you here?"

　　The supervisor stood up straight and stiff and told hisstory like a lesson; and you should have seen how thetwo gentlemen leaned forward and looked at each other,and forgot to smoke in their surprise and interest.When they heard how my mother went back to the inn, Dr.Livesey fairly slapped his thigh, and the squire cried"Bravo!" and broke his long pipe against the grate.Long before it was done, Mr. Trelawney (that, you willremember, was the squire's name) had got up from hisseat and was striding about the room, and the doctor,as if to hear the better, had taken off his powderedwig and sat there looking very strange indeed with hisown close-cropped black poll."

　　At last Mr. Dance finished the story.

　　"Mr. Dance," said the squire, "you are a very noblefellow. And as for riding down that black, atrociousmiscreant, I regard it as an act of virtue, sir, likestamping on a cockroach. This lad Hawkins is a trump,I perceive. Hawkins, will you ring that bell? Mr.Dance must have some ale."

　　"And so, Jim," said the doctor, "you have the thingthat they were after, have you?"

　　"Here it is, sir," said I, and gave him the oilskin packet.

　　The doctor looked it all over, as if his fingers wereitching to open it; but instead of doing that, he putit quietly in the pocket of his coat.

　　"Squire," said he, "when Dance has had his ale he must,of course, be off on his Majesty's service; but I meanto keep Jim Hawkins here to sleep at my house, and withyour permission, I propose we should have up the coldpie and let him sup."

　　"As you will, Livesey," said the squire; "Hawkins hasearned better than cold pie."

　　So a big pigeon pie was brought in and put on asidetable, and I made a hearty supper, for I was ashungry as a hawk, while Mr. Dance was furthercomplimented and at last dismissed.

　　"And now, squire," said the doctor.

　　"And now, Livesey," said the squire in the same breath.

　　"One at a time, one at a time," laughed Dr. Livesey."You have heard of this Flint, I suppose?"

　　"Heard of him!" cried the squire. "Heard of him, yousay! He was the bloodthirstiest buccaneer that sailed.Blackbeard was a child to Flint. The Spaniards were soprodigiously afraid of him that, I tell you, sir, I wassometimes proud he was an Englishman. I've seen histop-sails with these eyes, off Trinidad, and thecowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I sailed with putback--put back, sir, into Port of Spain."

　　"Well, I've heard of him myself, in England," said thedoctor. "But the point is, had he money?"

　　"Money!" cried the squire. "Have you heard the story?What were these villains after but money? What do theycare for but money? For what would they risk theirrascal carcasses but money?"

　　"That we shall soon know," replied the doctor. "Butyou are so confoundedly hot-headed and exclamatory thatI cannot get a word in. What I want to know is this:Supposing that I have here in my pocket some clue towhere Flint buried his treasure, will that treasureamount to much?"

　　"Amount, sir!" cried the squire. "It will amount tothis: If we have the clue you talk about, I fit out aship in Bristol dock, and take you and Hawkins herealong, and I'll have that treasure if I search a year."

　　"Very well," said the doctor. "Now, then, if Jim isagreeable, we'll open the packet"; and he laid itbefore him on the table.

　　The bundle was sewn together, and the doctor had to getout his instrument case and cut the stitches with hismedical scissors. It contained two things--a book anda sealed paper.

　　"First of all we'll try the book," observed the doctor.

　　The squire and I were both peering over his shoulder ashe opened it, for Dr. Livesey had kindly motioned me tocome round from the side-table, where I had beeneating, to enjoy the sport of the search. On the firstpage there were only some scraps of writing, such as aman with a pen in his hand might make for idleness orpractice. One was the same as the tattoo mark, "BillyBones his fancy"; then there was "Mr. W. Bones, mate,""No more rum," "Off Palm Key he got itt," and someother snatches, mostly single words and unintelligible.I could not help wondering who it was that had "gotitt," and what "itt" was that he got. A knife in hisback as like as not.

　　"Not much instruction there," said Dr. Livesey as hepassed on.

　　The next ten or twelve pages were filled with a curiousseries of entries. There was a date at one end of theline and at the other a sum of money, as in commonaccount-books, but instead of explanatory writing, onlya varying number of crosses between the two. On the12th of June, 1745, for instance, a sum of seventypounds had plainly become due to someone, and there wasnothing but six crosses to explain the cause. In a fewcases, to be sure, the name of a place would be added,as "Offe Caraccas," or a mere entry of latitude andlongitude, as "62o 17' 20", 19o 2' 40"."

　　The record lasted over nearly twenty years, the amountof the separate entries growing larger as time went on,and at the end a grand total had been made out afterfive or six wrong additions, and these words appended,"Bones, his pile."

　　"I can't make head or tail of this," said Dr. Livesey.

　　"The thing is as clear as noonday," cried the squire."This is the black-hearted hound's account-book. Thesecrosses stand for the names of ships or towns that theysank or plundered. The sums are the scoundrel's share,and where he feared an ambiguity, you see he addedsomething clearer. 'Offe Caraccas,' now; you see, herewas some unhappy vessel boarded off that coast. Godhelp the poor souls that manned her--coral long ago."

　　"Right!" said the doctor. "See what it is to be atraveller. Right! And the amounts increase, you see,as he rose in rank."

　　There was little else in the volume but a few bearingsof places noted in the blank leaves towards the end anda table for reducing French, English, and Spanishmoneys to a common value.

　　"Thrifty man!" cried the doctor. "He wasn't the one tobe cheated."

　　"And now," said the squire, "for the other."

　　The paper had been sealed in several places with athimble by way of seal; the very thimble, perhaps, thatI had found in the captain's pocket. The doctor openedthe seals with great care, and there fell out the mapof an island, with latitude and longitude, soundings,names of hills and bays and inlets, and everyparticular that would be needed to bring a ship to asafe anchorage upon its shores. It was about ninemiles long and five across, shaped, you might say, likea fat dragon standing up, and had two fine land-lockedharbours, and a hill in the centre part marked "TheSpy-glass." There were several additions of a laterdate, but above all, three crosses of red ink--two onthe north part of the island, one in the southwest--andbeside this last, in the same red ink, and in a small,neat hand, very different from the captain's totterycharacters, these words: "Bulk of treasure here."

　　Over on the back the same hand had written this furtherinformation:

　　Tall tree, Spy-glass shoulder, bearing a point to the N. of N.N.E. Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E. Ten feet. The bar silver is in the north cache; you can find it by the trend of the east hummock, ten fathoms south of the black crag with the face on it. The arms are easy found, in the sand-hill, N. point of north inlet cape, bearing E. and a quarter N. J.F.That was all; but brief as it was, and to meincomprehensible, it filled the squire and Dr. Liveseywith delight.

　　"Livesey," said the squire, "you will give up thiswretched practice at once. Tomorrow I start forBristol. In three weeks' time--three weeks!--twoweeks--ten days--we'll have the best ship, sir, and thechoicest crew in England. Hawkins shall come as cabin-boy. You'll make a famous cabin-boy, Hawkins. You,Livesey, are ship's doctor; I am admiral. We'll takeRedruth, Joyce, and Hunter. We'll have favourablewinds, a quick passage, and not the least difficulty infinding the spot, and money to eat, to roll in, to playduck and drake with ever after."

　　"Trelawney," said the doctor, "I'll go with you; andI'll go bail for it, so will Jim, and be a credit tothe undertaking. There's only one man I'm afraid of."

　　"And who's that?" cried the squire. "Name the dog, sir!"

　　"You," replied the doctor; "for you cannot hold yourtongue. We are not the only men who know of thispaper. These fellows who attacked the inn tonight--bold, desperate blades, for sure--and the rest whostayed aboard that lugger, and more, I dare say, notfar off, are, one and all, through thick and thin,bound that they'll get that money. We must none of usgo alone till we get to sea. Jim and I shall sticktogether in the meanwhile; you'll take Joyce and Hunterwhen you ride to Bristol, and from first to last, notone of us must breathe a word of what we've found."

　　"Livesey," returned the squire, "you are always in theright of it. I'll be as silent as the grave."