The following edited passage is an
excerpt from Treasure Island by Robert
Louis Stevenson introducing the pirates.
It was not very long after this that there
occurred the first of the mysterious events that rid us at last of the captain,
though not, as you will see, of his
5 affairs. It was a bitter cold winter, with
long, hard frosts and heavy gales; and it
was plain from the first that my poor
father was little likely to see the spring.
He sank daily, and my mother and I had
10 all the inn upon our hands, and were
kept busy enough without paying much
regard to our unpleasant guest. It was
one January morning, very early—a
pinching, frosty morning—the cove all
15 grey with hoar-frost, the ripple lapping
softly on the stones, the sun still low and
only touching the hilltops and shining
far to seaward. The captain had risen
earlier than usual and set out down the
20 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.
Well, mother was upstairs with father
25 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,
30 wanting two fingers of the left hand, and
though he wore a cutlass, he did not
look much like a fighter. He was not
sailorly, and yet he had a smack of the
sea about him too.
35 I asked him what was for his service,
and he said he would take soda; 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
40 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
45 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
50 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
55 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?”
60 And when I had pointed out the rock
and told him how the captain was likely
to return, “Ah,” said he, “this’ll be as
good as drink to my mate Bill.”
The expression of his face as he said
65 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
70 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. “I
have a son of my own,” said he, “as like
75 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
80 twice—not you. That was never Bill’s
way, nor the way of such 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
85 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
90 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
95 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
100 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 straight
105 across the room to where his breakfast
awaited him. “Bill,” said the stranger in
a voice that I thought he had tried to
make bold and big. The captain spun
round on his heel and fronted us; all the
110 brown had gone out of his face, and
even his nose was blue; he had the look
of a man who sees a ghost, or the evil
one, or something worse, if anything
can be; and upon my word, I felt sorry
115 to see him all in a moment turn so old
and sick.
“Come, Bill, you know me; you know
an old shipmate, Bill, surely,” said the
stranger. The captain made a sort of
120 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
125 inn. Ah, Bill, Bill, we have seen a sight
of times, us two, since I lost them two
talons,” holding up his mutilated hand.
