Twenty-seven

"PIECES OF EIGHT"

As you remember, the ship was leaning right over on its side; so Hands, of course, fell into the water. He rose once in a mist of blood, and then sank again for ever. As the water settled, I could see him lying on the clean, bright sand in the shadow of the vessel's sides. A fish or two swam past his body. Sometimes, by the glimmering of the water, he appeared to move a little, as if he were trying to rise. But he was dead enough, for all that, being both shot and drowned, and was food for fish in the very place where he had intended to murder me.

I was no sooner certain of this than I began to feel sick, faint, and afraid. The hot blood was running over my back and chest. The knife, where it had pinned my shoulder, seemed to burn like a hot iron; yet it was not so much these real sufferings that were hardest to bear, it was the terror I had upon my mind of falling into that still green water, beside the body of Israel Hands.

I held on with both hands till my nails were white, and I shut my eyes as if to cover up the danger. At last my mind came back again, and I became calmer.

My first thought was to pull out the knife, but either it was stuck too hard in the wood behind me, or I lacked the courage. My whole body shook with hatred of the thought of it. Oddly enough that movement did the business. The knife held me only by a narrow piece of skin, and this my movement tore away.

I climbed down; then went below and bound up the wound. There was a good deal of blood, but the wound was not deep or dangerous. Then I looked around me, and as the ship was now my own, I began to think of clearing it from its last voyager—the dead man, O'Brien.

I took him by the waist as if he had been a sack of corn, and, with one good pull, lifted him over the side. The red cap came off, and remained floating; and as soon as the water was quiet again, I could see him and Israel lying side by side. There he lay, with his head across the knees of the man who had killed him, and the quick fishes swimming about over both.

I was now alone upon the ship. The sun was setting, and the shadow of the trees upon the western shore began to reach right across the bay.

I made all fast and safe on board, and by the time I had finished, the whole bay was in shadow, the last sunbeams falling through a wood, and shining bright as jewels on the flowery covering of the wreck. It began to be cold. The sea was running out, and the ship was settling down on to the sand.

I climbed down a rope and let myself drop softly into the sea. The water scarcely reached my waist. I reached the shore just as the sun went down, and the wind whistled low in the darkness among the restless trees.

I had nothing nearer my fancy than to get home to the stockade and tell what I had done. Perhaps I should be blamed for deserting, but the taking of the Hispaniola was full answer to that, and I hoped that Captain Smollett would allow that I had not wasted my time.

As I marched on, I came near to the place where I had met Ben Gunn, and I proceeded more carefully, keeping an eye on every side. Darkness had come; and, as I looked between two hills, I saw a glow against the sky, as if the man of the island were cooking his supper before a roaring fire. Yet I wondered that he should show himself so careless. For, if I could see it, might it not reach the eyes of Silver also?

The moon came up. With this to help me, I passed rapidly over what remained to me of my journey; and, sometimes walking, sometimes running, drew near to the stockade.

At last I came right down upon the borders of the open place in which the stockade stood. The western end was already bright with moonbeams; the rest, and the log-house itself, still lay in a black shadow, barred with long, silvery lines of light. On the other side of the house a huge fire had burned itself down into red coals. There was not a soul moving, not a sound beside the noises of the wind.

I stopped, with much wonder in my heart, and perhaps a little terror also. It had not been our way to build great fires; we were, indeed, by the captain's orders, rather careful of firewood; and I began to fear that something had gone wrong while I was absent.

I crept round by the eastern end, keeping close in shadow, and, at a place where the darkness was thickest, crossed the stockade.

Then I got upon my hands and knees, and crept, without a sound, towards the corner of the house. As I drew nearer, my heart was suddenly and greatly lightened. It is not a pleasant noise in itself, and I have often complained of it at other times; but just then it was like music to hear my friends breathing so loud in their sleep. The sea-cry of the watch, that beautiful "All's well," never fell more joyfully on my ear.

In the meantime, there was no doubt of one thing; they kept a very bad watch. If it had been Silver and his lads that were now creeping in on them, not a soul would have seen the dawn. That, thought I, was because the captain was wounded; and again I blamed myself for leaving them in that danger with so few to keep guard.

By this time I had got to the door and stood up. All was dark within, so that I could learn nothing by the eye. As for sounds, there was the steady music of the sleepers, and a small noise from time to time, a little pecking sound, which I could in no way explain.

With my arms before me I walked steadily in. I should lie down in my own place (I thought, with a silent laugh) and enjoy their faces when they found me in the morning.

My foot struck something soft—it was a sleeper's leg; and he turned, but without awaking.

And then, all of a sudden, a high voice broke forth out of the darkness:

"Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!" without pause or change, like the turning of a tiny mill.

Silver's green parrot, Captain Flint! It was she whom I had heard pecking at a piece of wood; it was she, keeping better watch than any human being, who thus declared my coming.

I had no time left me to recover. At the sharp voice of the parrot, the sleepers awoke and sprang up; and with a mighty curse the voice of Silver cried:

"Who goes?"

I turned to run, struck against one person, fell back, and ran full into the arms of a second, who closed upon me and held me tight.

"Bring a light, Dick," said Silver.

And one of the men left the log-house, and soon returned with a lamp.