Treasure Island all chapters.

Robert Louis Stevenson

Treasure Island

© Book Club "Family Leisure Club", Russian edition, 2009

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Part one

Old pirate

Old sea wolf in the tavern "Admiral Benbow"

Squire Trelawney, Dr. Livesey and the other gentlemen urged me to tell you all about Treasure Island without hiding. Except, of course, the geographical coordinates of the island, since part of the treasure has not yet been removed from there. Yielding to their requests, I take up my pen in the current 17 ... year and mentally transfer myself to the time when my father and mother kept the Admiral Benbow tavern and when an old sailor with a scar on his face suddenly appeared in our house.

I remember everything as if it happened only yesterday. Stepping heavily, he went to the door of the tavern. A wheelbarrow with his sea chest was wheeled behind him. The stranger was a hefty fellow with a tanned and chapped face. Long hair fell in braids over the collar of his dirty jacket. Dirty, broken nails were dark on his calloused, bruised hands. A crimson saber scar ran across one cheek. I remember how he looked back at the bay, whistling under his breath, and then suddenly yelled an old sea song, which he then sang so often:

Fifteen men for a dead man's chest
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

He sang in a high, old man's hoarse and cracked voice, reminiscent of the creak of a punch.

Then he knocked on our door with his cane-stick and rudely demanded a glass of rum from my father. When the rum was served, he began to slowly sip it, savoring it with the air of a connoisseur and glancing now at the shore, now at our sign.

“Not a bad cove,” he muttered at last. “And a good place for a tavern. How many people do you have, master?

The father replied that, unfortunately, not much.

“Excellent,” said the sailor. - Suitable parking space. Hey kid, come here! He shouted at the man who was driving the wheelbarrow after him. - Come closer and help me get the chest. I will stay here for a little while. I am an agreeable person, - he continued. “Rum, pork belly, and eggs are all I need, plus this cliff to keep track of passing ships. What is my name? You can just call me the captain. Oh yeah, this one!

And he threw three or four gold coins on the threshold.

“Tell me when you need to pay extra,” he added with a haughty air.

Indeed, in spite of his shabby clothing and rude handling, he still did not look like a simple sailor. Rather, he could have been mistaken for a navigator or skipper, accustomed to commanding and distributing jaws.

The man who brought the chest in a wheelbarrow informed us that the sailor had arrived the previous morning with a post coach at the King George tavern and asked what other taverns there were in the area closer to the sea. After hearing good reviews of our tavern and finding out that it is on the outskirts, he, I believe, chose it. That's all we managed to find out about our guest.

He was usually silent. All day he wandered about with a copper telescope by the sea or among the rocks, in the evenings he sat in the dining room in the corner and sipped rum. When they spoke to him, he, as a rule, did not answer - he just glared fiercely and sniffed like a bassoon. Soon everyone got used to it and left it alone. Every day, returning from a walk, he invariably asked if any sailor had passed along the road? At first we thought that he was looking for drinking companions, but soon we noticed that, on the contrary, he was trying to avoid sailors. If one of them, making his way to the coastal road to Bristol, turned into the tavern "Admiral Benbow", then the captain first looked at him from behind the curtain and only then entered, while he became dumb like a fish.

I noted for myself the behavior of the captain, and soon learned about his fears. Once he took me aside and promised to give me four pennies in silver on the first day of every month if I began to "look both ways behind a sailor on one leg," and when I saw such a person, I would immediately inform him. More than once, it happened, when the first day came and I came to him for money, he just sniffed and looked at me with malice. However, by the end of the week, anger was replaced by mercy and paid me my fourpence, again ordering me to "look both ways for the one-legged."

I confess that this mysterious sailor tormented me in nightmares. At night, especially during storms, when the wind shook the whole house and the surf roared, breaking against the cliffs, he appeared to me in my dreams in the most devilish forms. Now with a leg cut off to the knee, then with a leg chopped off to the very thigh, then in general in the form of a terrible one-legged monster. The worst of all was the dream in which he chased me, jumping over hedges and ditches. As you can see, I had to pay dearly for my monthly fourpence.

But although the one-legged sailor terrified me, I was much less afraid of the captain than our guests. Sometimes in the evenings he puffed up beyond measure and began to rampage and bawl his damned sea songs, not paying attention to anyone. Sometimes he demanded that the others drink with him, and made the visitors, in awe of fear, listen to his endless stories or sing along with him. Often the walls of our house shook from "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum", because the poor fellows were simply afraid of the old rowdy and yelled at the top of their lungs, just not to anger him. In a drunken state, the captain became fearsome and indomitable. He then banged his fist on the table, demanding silence, then he was furious, if he was asked a question, then, on the contrary, he was furious if he was not asked about anything. He did not allow any of the visitors to leave the inn until he himself got drunk to hell and, staggering, went to bed.

His stories frightened our guests desperately. These were terrible stories about gallows, about desperate brave men, about tropical storms, about deserts, about pirate raids on the shores of Spanish possessions. According to him, it turned out that he had spent his whole life among the most notorious villains who only walked on land or swam on the sea. The intricate abuse, with which he abundantly seasoned his tales, frightened the audience no less than the atrocities he described.

My father used to say that our tavern would soon go bankrupt, because visitors would stop coming to us so as not to be bullied and not return home shaking with fear. But I was of a different opinion. The captain's stay was clearly beneficial to us. At first, the visitors were frightened, but then they recalled with pleasure the terrible stories of our captain - they excited the imagination and brought variety to the dull village life. Some of them called our captain "a true sea wolf", claiming that thanks to such people England became a thunderstorm of the seas.

However, in one respect the captain could well have contributed to our ruin. He lived with us week after week, month after month. The money he gave at first was long gone, and my father could no longer squeeze a penny out of him. As soon as he hinted about it, the captain began to sniff fiercely, and my poor father immediately disappeared. I saw him wring his hands in despair after such a rebuff, and I am sure that the excitement he experienced in doing so in many ways brought his untimely death closer.

During his stay with us, the captain never changed or renewed his clothes, only bought several pairs of stockings from the peddler. The brim of his hat was frayed and sagging, his jacket was covered with colorful patches, as he himself had repaired it in his upstairs room. The captain never wrote or received letters and did not speak to anyone, except for the neighbors at the table, and even then only when he was drunk. And none of us have ever seen him open his chest.

Only once did this rude person receive a worthy rebuff. It happened shortly before my father's death. Dr. Livesey visited us one afternoon, examined his patient, had a bite to eat, and went down to the common dining room to smoke a pipe and wait for the horse he had left in a neighboring village to be brought, since our old tavern did not have a stable.

I followed him and remember the impression the doctor made - friendly, smart, in a curly wig sprinkled with snow-white powder - compared to the sullen country drunks. But especially striking was the contrast between the doctor and our gloomy, filthy captain, who was sitting at the table, lounging and sipping, as usual, rum. Suddenly, in a hoarse and deafening voice, he shouted his favorite song:

Fifteen people per dead man's chest.
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink, and the devil will bring you to the end.
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

Chapter 1

OLD SEA WOLF IN THE "ADMIRAL BENBOU"

Squire Title of nobility in England. Trelawney, Dr. Livesey and other gentlemen have asked me to write everything I know about Treasure Island. They want me to tell the whole story, from the very beginning to the end, without hiding any details other than the geographical location of the island. It is still impossible to indicate where this island lies, since even now there are treasures that we did not take out. And now, in the current 17 ... year, I take up my pen and mentally return to the time when my father had an inn "Admiral Benbow" Benbow was an English admiral who lived at the end of the 17th century. and in this tavern settled an old tanned sailor with a saber scar on his cheek.

I remember, as if it was yesterday, how, stepping heavily, he dragged himself to our door, and his sea chest was taken after him in a wheelbarrow. He was a tall, strong, overweight man with a dark face. A tarnished braid stuck out over the collar of his greasy blue coat. His hands were rough, with some kind of scars, his nails were black, broken, and the saber scar on his cheek was of a dirty white color, with a tint of lead. I remember how a stranger, whistling, looked around our bay and suddenly began to sing an old sailor's song, which he then sang so often:

And his stick was like a ganspug. Lever for lifting weights. He knocked this stick on our door, and when my father came out on the threshold, he rudely demanded a glass of rum.

Rum was served to him, and with the air of a connoisseur he began to slowly savor every sip. He drank and looked now at the rocks, now at the inn sign.

The bay is comfortable, ”he said at last. - Not a bad place for a tavern. A lot of people, buddy?

The father replied that no, unfortunately, very little.

Well then! - said the sailor. - This ... just for me ... Hey, buddy! he shouted to the man who was driving the wheelbarrow after him. - Come here and help me to drag the chest ... I will live here a little, - he continued. - I'm a simple person. Rum, pork belly and scrambled eggs are all I need. Yes, there is that cape from which the ships passing through the sea are visible ... What should you call me? Well, call me captain ... Hey, I see what you want! Here!

And he threw three or four gold coins on the threshold.

When these are over, you can come and say, ”he said sternly and looked at his father like a boss.

Indeed, although his clothes were poor and his speech was rude, he did not look like a simple sailor. Rather, he could be mistaken for a navigator or skipper, who was used to being obeyed. It was felt that he liked to give vent to his fist. The man with the wheelbarrow told us that the stranger arrived yesterday morning at the post office at the King George Hotel and inquired about all the inns near the sea. Having heard about our tavern, there must have been good reviews and having learned that it was on departure, the captain decided to stay with us. That's all that we managed to find out about our guest.

He was a silent man. For days he wandered along the coast of the bay or climbed the rocks with a copper telescope. In the evenings, he sat in the common room in the very corner, by the fire, and drank rum, slightly diluted with water. He did not answer if someone spoke to him. He will only cast a fierce look and whistle with his nose, like a ship's siren in the fog. Soon we and our visitors learned to leave him alone. Every day, returning from a walk, he inquired if any sailors had passed along our way. At first we thought that he lacked the company of the same bums as himself. But in the end we began to understand that he wants to be away from them. If any sailor, making his way along the coastal road to Bristol, stopped at the Admiral Benbow, the captain first looked at it from behind the door curtain and only then went into the living room. In the presence of such people, he always sat as quiet as a mouse.

I knew what was the matter, because the captain shared his concern with me. One day he took me aside and promised to pay me four pence in silver on the first of every month if I "looked in both eyes to see if a sailor would appear anywhere on one leg," and I would inform him as soon as I saw one. When the first day came and I turned to him for the promised salary, he just blew his nose and glared at me fiercely. But not even a week had passed when, on reflection, he brought me a coin and repeated the order not to let the "sailor on one leg" pass.

This one-legged sailor haunted me even in my sleep.

On stormy nights, when the wind shook all four corners of our house, and the surf roared in the bay and in the cliffs, I dreamed of it in a thousand ways, in the form of a thousand different devils. The leg was cut off from his knee, then to the very thigh. At times he seemed to me like some kind of terrible monster, in which one single leg grows from the very middle of the body. He chased me on that one leg, jumping over fences and ditches. I paid dearly my fourpence every month; I paid for it with these disgusting dreams.

But no matter how terrible the one-legged sailor was for me, I was much less afraid of the captain than everyone else. On some evenings he drank so much rum and water that his head was shaking, and then he stayed for a long time in the tavern and sang his old, wild, cruel sea songs, not paying attention to anyone present. And it also happened that he invited everyone to his table and demanded glasses. The invitees trembled with fright, and he made them either listen to his stories about sea adventures, or sing along with him in chorus. The walls of our house then shuddered from "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum", as all the visitors, fearing his violent anger, tried to shout down one another and sing as loud as possible, if only the captain was satisfied with them, because at such hours he was unbridledly formidable: then he knocked on the table with his fist, demanding that everyone be silent; he would get enraged if someone interrupted his speech, asked him any question; then, on the contrary, he became ferocious if they asked him questions, since, in his opinion, this proved that they were not listening to him attentively. He did not let anyone out of the inn - the company could disperse only when he was possessed by a drowsiness from the wine he had drunk and he staggered to his bed.

But the worst of all were his stories. Horrible tales of gallows, plank-walking Walking the plank is a type of execution; the convict was forced to walk on an unattached board, one end of which protruded into the sea. about storms and about Dry Tortugas, Islands near Florida. about robber's nests and robber exploits in the Spanish Sea. The Spanish Sea is the old name for the southeastern Caribbean.

Judging by his stories, he spent his entire life among the most notorious villains who have ever been at sea. And the abuse that flew out of his mouth after every word frightened our simple-minded village people no less than the crimes he spoke of.

Father constantly insisted that we would have to close our tavern: the captain would drive away all visitors from us. Who wants to be subjected to such bullying and tremble with horror on the way home! However, I think that the captain, on the contrary, brought us more benefit. True, the visitors were afraid of him, but a day later they were drawn to him again. In a quiet, backwater life, he introduced some kind of pleasant alarm. Among the youth there were even admirers of the captain, who declared that they admired him. "A real sea wolf, thoroughly salted by the sea!" they exclaimed.

According to them, it was people like our captain who made England a thunderstorm of the seas.

But, on the other hand, this person really brought us losses. Week after week, month after month; the money he gave us when he arrived had long been spent, but he didn’t pay any new money, and my father didn’t have the heart to demand it. As soon as the father hinted at the pay, the captain began to sniff with fury; it was not even a sniff, but a growl; he looked at his father in such a way that he flew out of the room in horror. I saw him wring his hands in despair after such attempts. There is no doubt for me that these fears greatly accelerated my father's sad and premature death.

During his entire stay with us, the captain wore the same clothes, only he bought several pairs of stockings from the peddler. One edge of his hat is loose; the captain left him, although in a strong wind it was a great inconvenience. I remember well what a tattered caftan he had; no matter how much he repaired it upstairs, in his room, in the end the caftan turned into rags.

He never wrote or received any letters from anywhere. And he never spoke to anyone, unless he was very drunk. And none of us have ever seen him open his chest.

Only once did they dare to contradict the captain, and that happened in the very last days, when my unfortunate father was dying.

One evening, Dr. Livesey came to see the patient. He examined the patient, hastily ate the dinner that my mother had given him, and went down to the common room to smoke a pipe, waiting for the horse to be brought to him. The horse remained in the village, as there was no stable in the old Benbow.

I brought him into the common room, and I remember how this elegant, dapperly dressed doctor in a snow-white wig, black-eyed, well-mannered, struck me with his dissimilarity with the village lugs who visited our tavern. He was especially sharply different from our raven scarecrow, a dirty, gloomy, overweight pirate, who sprinkled himself with rum and sat with his elbows on the table.

Suddenly the captain roared his eternal song:

Fifteen people per dead man's chest.

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

Drink, and the devil will bring you to the end.

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

At first I thought that the "dead man's chest" is the same chest that stands upstairs in the captain's room.

In my terrible dreams, this chest often appeared in front of me along with the one-legged sailor. But little by little we got so used to this song that we stopped paying attention to it. This evening it was news only to Dr. Livesey and, as I noticed, did not make a pleasant impression on him. He glanced angrily at the captain before resuming his conversation with old gardener Taylor about a new treatment for rheumatism. Meanwhile, the captain, flushed by his own singing, banged his fist on the table. This meant that he was demanding silence.

All voices fell silent at once; only Dr. Livesey continued his good-natured and loud speech, puffing his pipe after each word. The captain glanced at him piercingly, then slammed his fist on the table again, then looked even more piercingly and suddenly yelled, accompanying his words with obscene language:

Hey, there on deck, be silent!

Are you talking to me, sir? the doctor asked.

He said that it was to him, and moreover, he swore again.

In that case, sir, I'll tell you one thing, ”the doctor replied. - If you do not stop drinking, you will soon rid the world of one of the most heinous scoundrels!

The captain was furious. He jumped to his feet, pulled out and opened his sailor's folding knife and began to threaten the doctor that he would nail him to the wall.

The doctor didn't even move. He continued to speak to him without turning around, over his shoulder, in the same voice - maybe only a little louder so that everyone could hear. Calmly and firmly he said:

If you don’t put this knife in your pocket now, I swear on your honor that you will hang out on the gallows after the first session of our traveling court.

A duel began between their eyes. But the captain soon gave up. He hid his knife and sank into a chair, grumbling like a battered dog.

And now, sir, ”the doctor continued,“ since I have learned that there is such a person in my district, I will have the strictest supervision over you day and night. I am not only a doctor, I am also a judge. And if even the slightest complaint comes to me - even if only that you were rude to someone ... like now - I will take decisive measures to get you taken away and kicked out of here. I won't say anything else.

Soon a horse was brought to Doctor Livesey, and he rode away. But the captain was quiet and humble all evening and remained so for many evenings in a row.

Chapter 2

BLACK DOG COMES AND GOES

Soon the first of those mysterious events happened, thanks to which we finally got rid of the captain. But, having got rid of him, we did not get rid, as you yourself will see, of his troublesome affairs.

It was a cold winter with long, bitter frosts and stormy winds. And from the very beginning it became clear that my poor father would hardly see spring. He got worse every day. My mother and I had to run the tavern. We had a lot of things to do, and we paid very little attention to our unpleasant guest.

It was an early January frosty morning. The bay has turned gray from frost. Small ripples gently licked the coastal stones. The sun has not yet had time to rise and has only touched the tops of the hills and the sea with its rays. The captain woke up earlier than usual and headed for the sea. A dagger swayed under the wide skirts of his frayed blue caftan. He had a telescope under his arm. He pushed his hat to the back of his head. I remember that steam flew out of his mouth and swirled in the air like smoke. I heard him snort viciously as he hid behind a large cliff - probably still could not forget his encounter with Dr. Livesey.

My mother was upstairs with my father, and I set the breakfast table for the arrival of the captain. Suddenly the door opened and a man entered the room whom I had never seen before.

He was pale, with an earthy face. He was missing two fingers on his left hand. There was nothing belligerent about him, although he had a dagger at his belt. I always kept an eye on every sailor, be he on one leg or two, and I remember that this man puzzled me very much. He looked little like a sailor, and yet I felt that he was a sailor.

I asked him what he liked and he demanded rum. I was about to rush out of the room to carry out his order, but he sat down at the table and again called me over to him. I stopped with a napkin in my hand.

Come here, son, ”he said. - Come closer.

I went.

Is this table set for my fellow navigator Billy? he asked, grinning.

I replied that I did not know any navigator Billy and that the table was set for one of our guests, whom we call the captain.

Well, - he said, - my friend, navigator Billy, you can also call the captain. This does not change the matter. He has a scar on his cheek and a very pleasant handling, especially when he gets drunk. This is what he is, my navigator Billy! Your captain also has a scar on his cheek. And just on the right. So it's all right, isn't it? So, I would like to know: is it found here in this house, my friend Billy?

I replied that the captain went for a walk.

Where, sonny? Where did he go?

I showed him the rock on which the captain had been daily, and said that he would probably be back soon.

And when?

And, asking me a few more different questions, he said at the end:

Yes, my friend Billy will be happy with me, like a drink.

However, his face was gloomy at these words, and I had every reason to think that the captain would not be too happy to meet him. But I immediately told myself that this did not concern me. And besides, it was difficult to do anything under such circumstances. The stranger stood at the very front door of the inn and watched the corner of the house like a cat watching for a mouse. I was about to go out into the yard, but he immediately called out to me. I did not immediately obey him, and his pale face was suddenly contorted with such anger, and he burst into such curses that I jumped back in fear. But as soon as I returned, he began to talk to me as before, either flatteringly or even mockingly, patted me on the shoulder, told me that I was a nice boy and that he immediately fell in love with me.

I have a son, - he said, - and you look like him, like two drops of water. He is the pride of my parental heart. But for boys, the main thing is obedience. Yes, sonny, obedience. Now, if you went swimming with Billy, you wouldn't have to be called out twice. Billy never repeated orders, and the others who swam with him ... And here he is, my navigator Billy, with a telescope under his arm, God bless him! Let's go back to the hall again, hide behind the door, son, and arrange a surprise for Billy, please Billy, God bless him!

With these words, he drove me into the common room, into a corner, and hid me behind him. We were both blocked by an open door. It was both unpleasant and a little scary, as you can imagine, especially when I noticed that the stranger was cowardly himself. He released the handle of his dagger, pulled it out a little from its scabbard and kept making such movements as if he was swallowing some piece stuck in his throat.

Finally the captain burst into the room, slammed the door and, without looking around, went straight to the table, where breakfast was waiting for him.

Billy! - said the stranger, trying to give his voice firmness and courage.

The captain turned on his heel and was right in front of us. The sunburn seemed to disappear from his face, even his nose turned blue. He looked like a man who had met a ghost, or a devil, or something worse, if that happens. And, I confess to you, I felt sorry for him - so he immediately became old and flabby.

Don't you recognize me, Billy? Don't you recognize your old shipmate, Billy? the stranger said.

The captain opened his mouth as if he was out of breath.

Black Dog! he said finally.

He's the one, - replied the stranger, somewhat cheered up. “The Black Dog has come to visit his old ship friend, his Billy, who lives at the Admiral Benbow Inn. Ah, Billy, Billy! How much water has flowed under the bridge since I lost two of my claws! he exclaimed, raising his crippled hand.

Okay, said the captain. - You tracked me down, and I am in front of you. Tell me, why did you come?

I recognize you, Billy, ”the Black Dog replied. “You're right, Billy. This nice little boy, whom I love so much, will bring me a glass of rum. We will sit with you, if you like, and we will talk straightforwardly, straightforwardly, like old comrades. Is not it?

When I returned with the bottle, they were already sitting opposite each other at the captain's table.

The Black Dog was sitting sideways, closer to the door, and with one eye looked at his old friend, and with the other at the door, the escape route.

He told me to leave and leave the door wide open.

So that you, my son, do not peep through the keyhole, - he explained.

I left them alone and went back to the counter.

For a long time, in spite of all my efforts, I did not hear anything but an inarticulate dialect. But little by little the voices grew louder, and at last I was able to catch a few words, mostly swearing, emanating from the captain's lips.

Once the captain shouted:

No no no no! And enough of that! Do you hear?

And then again:

If it comes to the gallows, let everyone hang out on it!

Then, suddenly, there was a terrible explosion of curses, the table and benches fell to the floor with a crash, the steel of the blades clinked, someone cried out in pain, and a minute later I saw the Black Dog running as fast as he could towards the door. The captain was chasing him. Their daggers were bared. The Black Dog was bleeding from his left shoulder. Near the door, the captain swung his dagger and wanted to inflict one more, most terrible blow on the fleeing one and would undoubtedly cut his head in half, but the dagger caught on a large signboard of our "Admiral Benbow". On the sign, below, on the frame itself, you can still see a trace of him.

The battle ended there.

Jumping out onto the road, the Black Dog, in spite of his wound, rushed with such an amazing speed that in half a minute he disappeared over the hill. The captain stood and looked at the sign like a madman. Then he ran his hand over his eyes several times and returned to the house.

Jim, he ordered, rum!

He staggered slightly at these words and leaned his hand against the wall.

Are you injured? I exclaimed.

Roma! he repeated. - I need to get out of here. Roma! Roma!

I ran for the rum, but I broke my glass out of excitement and soiled the tap of the barrel with mud. And while I was putting everything in order and pouring another glass, suddenly I heard something in the hall crash heavily on the floor. I ran in and saw the captain, who was stretched out to its full length on the floor. My mother, alarmed by the screams and the fight, ran downstairs to help me. We raised the captain's head. He breathed very loudly and heavily. His eyes were closed, his face turned purple.

My God! - exclaimed the mother. - What a disgrace for our tavern! And your poor father, as if on purpose, is lying sick!

We did not know how to help the captain, and we were sure that he was wounded to death during a duel with a stranger. I brought rum and tried to pour it into his mouth. But his strong jaws were clenched like iron.

Fortunately, the door opened and Dr. Livesey came in to visit my ailing father.

Doctor, help! we exclaimed. - What should we do? Where is he injured?

Injured? the doctor said. - Nonsense! He's just as hurt as you or me. He just has a punch. What to do! I warned him ... Well, Mrs. Hawkins, go back upstairs to your husband and, if possible, do not say anything to him. And I will try to save this unnecessary life three times ... Jim, bring me a basin.

When I returned with the basin, the doctor had already rolled up the captain's sleeve and exposed his large, muscular arm. The arm has been tattooed in many places. Clear inscriptions on the forearm: "Luckily", "Tailwind" and "May Billy Bones' Dreams Come True."

A gallows was drawn near the very shoulder, on which a man dangled. This drawing, as it seemed to me, was made with true knowledge of the matter.

A prophetic picture, - said the doctor, touching the image of the gallows with his finger. - And now, sir Billy Bones, if your name is really that, we'll see what color your blood is ... Jim, - he turned to me, - are you not afraid of blood?

No sir, I said.

Excellent, said the doctor. - Then hold the basin.

He took a lancet and opened a vein.

A lot of blood leaked from the captain before he opened his eyes and looked around us with a dim gaze. He recognized the doctor and furrowed his brows. Then he noticed me and seemed to calm down a little. Then he suddenly blushed and, trying to get up, shouted:

Where is Black Dog?

There is no dog here except the one behind you, ”the doctor said. - You drank too much rum. And now you have had a blow, as I predicted to you. And I, against my will, pulled you out of the grave. Well, Mr. Bones ...

I'm not Bones, ”the captain interrupted.

It doesn't matter, said the doctor. “I have a pirate friend called Bonsom, and I gave you that name for brevity. Remember what I tell you: one glass of rum will certainly not kill you, but if you drink one glass, you will want to drink more and more. And I swear to you with my wig: if you don't stop drinking, you will die very soon. Clear? Go where the Bible said ... Well, try to get up. I'll help you get to bed.

With great difficulty we dragged the captain upstairs and put him to bed. He collapsed onto the pillow, exhausted. He was almost unconscious.

So remember, - said the doctor, - I tell you in good conscience: the word "rum" and the word "death" mean the same thing to you.

Taking my hand, he went to my sick father.

It's nothing, ”he said, as soon as we closed the door behind us. - I bleed so much from him that he will calm down for a long time. She spends a week in bed, which is good for him and for you. But he will not survive the second blow.

CHAPTER 3

BLACK MARK

At about noon, I went to the captain with refreshments and medicine. He lay in the same position as we had left him, only a little higher. He seemed to me very weak and at the same time very agitated.

Jim, ”he said,“ you alone are worth something here. And you know: I've always been kind to you. Every month I gave you four pence in silver. You see, friend, I feel bad, I am sick and will be abandoned by everyone! And Jim, you will bring me a glass of rum, won't you?

Doctor ... - I began.

All doctors are land rats, ”he said. - And this doctor here of yours - well, what does he understand about sailors? I've been to countries where it's hot, like boiling pitch, where people fell from Yellow Jack, Yellow Jack is a fever. and earthquakes shook the land like a sea wave. What does your doctor know about these places? And I only lived on rum, yeah! Rum was for me meat, water, wife and friend. And if I don't drink rum now, I'll be like a poor old ship washed ashore by a storm. And my blood will be on you, Jim, and on this rat, on the doctor ...

And he again burst into curses.

Look, Jim, how my fingers are trembling, ”he continued in a plaintive voice. “I can’t stop them so they don’t tremble. I didn't have a drop in my mouth today. This doctor is a fool, I assure you. If I don’t drink rum, Jim, I’ll see horror. Something I've already seen, by God! I saw old Flint over there in the corner behind me. I saw him clearly, as if he were alive. And when I see horrors, I become like a beast - I’m used to the rough life. Your doctor himself said that one glass will not kill me. I will give you a golden guinea Guinea is an English gold coin. for one mug, Jim!

He begged more and more persistently and was so agitated that I was afraid that my father might hear him. Father that day was especially bad, and he needed complete rest. In addition, I was supported by the doctor's words that one glass would not harm the captain.

I don’t need your money, ”I replied, because the offer of a bribe was very insulting to me. “Better pay what you owe my father. I'll bring you a glass, but this will be the last one.

I brought a glass of rum. He grabbed it greedily and drank it down.

That's good! - he said. - I felt better immediately. Listen, friend, the doctor didn’t say how long should I lie on this bed?

At least a week, ”I said. - Not less!

Thunder and lightning! cried the captain. - A week! If I stay for a week, they will have time to send me a black mark. These people have already sniffed out where I am - bums and quitters who could not save their own and now bury themselves on someone else's. Is that what real sailors do? Here I am, for example: I am a thrifty person, I have never littered with money and I do not want to lose what I have acquired. I'll inflate them again. I will move away from this reef and again leave them all in the fools.

With these words, he began to slowly rise, grabbing my shoulder with such force that I almost screamed in pain. His feet sank to the floor as hard as decks. And his ardent speech did not match the barely audible voice at all.

After he sat down on the bed, he could not utter a word for a long time, but finally he said:

This doctor finished me off ... He sings in my ears. Help me to lie down ...

But before I stretched out my hand to him, he fell back into bed and lay for a while in silence.

Jim, ”he said finally,“ did you see that sailor today?

Black Dog? I asked.

Yes, Black Dog, ”he said. “He's a very bad man, but those who sent him are even worse than him. Listen: if I can't get out of here and they send me a black mark, know that they are after my chest. Then get on a horse ... - after all, you ride, don't you? - then get on your horse and gallop with all your might ... Now I don't care ... Ride at least to this damned doctor, to the rat, and tell him to whistle all the sailors on deck - all the juries and judges there - and cover my guests on aboard the Admiral Benbow, the whole gang of old Flint, every one of them, how many were still alive. I was the first navigator ... yes, the first navigator of old Flint, and I alone know where that place is. He himself gave me everything in Savannah when he lay dying, this is how I lie now. See? But don't do anything until they send me a black mark or until you see the Black Dog or the sailor on one leg again. This one-legged Jim, watch out for the most.

What is this black mark, captain? I asked.

It's kind of like a summons, buddy. When they send, I'll tell you. Just don't miss them, dear Jim, and I will split everything in half with you, I give you my word of honor ...

No sailor has ever needed medicine like me.

He soon fell into a heavy oblivion, and I left him alone.

I don’t know what I would have done if everything had gone well. Probably, I would have told the doctor about everything, for I was mortally afraid that the captain would regret his frankness and finish me off. But the circumstances were different. In the evening my poor father passed away suddenly and we forgot everything else. I was so consumed with our grief, our neighbors' visits, the funeral arrangements, and the work at the inn, that I had no time to think about the captain or be afraid of him.

The next morning he went downstairs as if nothing had happened. I ate at normal hours, but without any appetite and, I'm afraid, drank more than usual, because I myself was treating myself at the counter. At the same time, he snorted and sniffled so angrily that no one dared to forbid him to drink too much. On the evening before the funeral, he was drunk as usual. It was disgusting to hear his unbridled, wild song in our sad home. And although he was very weak, we were scared to death of him. The only person who could shut his throat - the doctor - was far away: he was called several miles away to a patient, and after the death of his father he never showed himself near our house.

I said the captain was weak. Indeed, he not only did not recover, but seemed to be getting weaker and weaker. By force he climbed the stairs; staggered, hobbled from the hall to our counter. Sometimes he poked his nose out the door - to breathe in the sea, but at the same time grabbed the wall. He breathed hard and fast, like a man climbing a steep mountain.

He no longer spoke to me and, apparently, forgot about his recent frankness, but became even more hot-tempered, even more irritable, despite all his weakness. While drinking, he pulled out a dagger and put it on the table in front of him and at the same time hardly noticed people, immersed in his thoughts and delusional visions.

Once, to our great surprise, he even began to whistle some country love song, which he probably sang in his youth, before going to sea.

This was the state of affairs when the day after the funeral — the day was cloudy, foggy and frosty — at three in the afternoon, I went out the door and stopped at the threshold. I thought longingly about my father ...

Suddenly I noticed a man walking slowly along the road. Obviously, he was blind, because he groped the way in front of him with a stick. A green visor hung over his eyes and nose. Hunched over by old age or illness, he was all wrapped up in a shabby, tattered sailor's cloak with a hood, which made him even uglier. Never in my life have I seen such a terrible person. He stopped not far from the inn and chanted loudly in a strange nasal voice, addressing the empty space:

Would some benefactor tell the poor blind man who lost his precious sight during the brave defense of his homeland, England, God bless King George, where he is now?

You are near the Admiral Benbow Inn, in the bay of Black Hill, good man, ”I said.

I held out my hand to him, and this horrible, eyeless creature with such a sugary voice grabbed it like ticks.

I was so scared that I wanted to run away. But the blind man pulled me to him.

Now, boy, ”he said,“ take me to the captain.

Sir, - I said, - I honestly don't dare ...

Don't you dare? he chuckled. - Oh, that's how! Don't you dare! Lead me now, or I'll break your arm!

And he turned my hand so that I screamed.

Sir, ”I said,“ I was not afraid for myself, but for you. The captain is different now. He sits with a naked dagger. One gentleman has already come to him and ...

Quickly, march! he interrupted me.

Never before have I heard such a ferocious, cold and vile voice. This voice scared me more than the pain. I realized that I had to obey, and led him into the hall where our sick pirate was sitting, intoxicated with rum.

The blind man grabbed me with iron fingers. He crushed me with all his weight, and I could barely keep my feet.

Lead me straight to him and when he sees me, shout, "Here's your friend, Billy." If you don’t shout, I’ll do this!

And he twisted my arm so that I almost fainted. I was so afraid of the blind beggar that I forgot my horror at the captain and, opening the door of the hall, with a trembling voice shouted the words that the blind man had told me to shout.

The poor captain looked up and sober up at once. His face expressed not fear, but rather mortal anguish. He tried to get up, but he apparently did not have enough strength.

Nothing, Billy, sit where you are, said the beggar. “I can't see you, but I can hear your fingers trembling. Business is business. Reach out your right hand ... Boy, take his hand and bring it to my right hand.

We both obeyed him. And I saw him transfer something from his hand, in which he was holding a stick, into the captain's palm, which immediately clenched into a fist.

It's done, said the blind man.

At these words he dismissed me and, with an unexpected agility in a cripple, jumped out of the common room onto the road. I still stood motionless, listening to the receding sound of his stick.

It took quite a long time before the captain and I came to our senses. I let go of his wrist, and he pulled his hand towards him and looked at his palm.

At ten o'clock! he exclaimed. “There are six hours left. We'll show them some more!

And he jumped to his feet, but immediately swayed and grabbed his throat. So he stood, staggering, for a few moments, then with some strange sound he crashed to the floor with all his weight.

I immediately rushed to him and called my mother. But it was too late. The captain died suddenly of a stroke. And it’s strange: I really never liked this man, although lately I began to feel sorry for him, but when I saw him dead, I began to cry. I cried for a long time, I was dripping with tears. It was the second death that happened before my eyes, and the grief inflicted on me first was still too fresh in my heart.

Chapter 4

MATROSS CHEST

I, of course, immediately told my mother everything I knew. Maybe I should have told her about this earlier. We found ourselves in a difficult, dangerous situation.

Some of the money left over by the captain - if only he had money - should certainly have belonged to us. But it is unlikely that his comrades, like the Black Dog and the blind beggar, would agree to give up their booty to pay off the debts of the deceased. I could not fulfill the captain's order to mount a horse and gallop after Doctor Livesey: it was impossible to leave my mother alone, without any protection. There was nothing to think about. But we did not dare to stay at home any longer: we shuddered even when the coals in our hearth fell on the iron grate; we were even afraid of the ticking of the clock. Everywhere we heard someone's footsteps, as if someone was approaching us.

My hair stood on end at the thought of a dead body lying on the floor, and that somewhere nearby was a loathsome blind beggar who might be about to return. There was no time to hesitate. Something had to be done. And we decided to go together to a nearby village for help. No sooner said than done. With bare heads, we rushed to run through the frosty fog. It was already getting dark.

The village was not visible from us, but it was not far, a few hundred yards from us, on the opposite bank of the neighboring bay. I was very encouraged by the realization that the blind beggar had appeared from the other side and had gone, presumably, there. We did not walk long, although sometimes we stopped to listen. But the usual sounds were heard all around: the surf buzzed and crows croaked in the forest.

Candles have already been lit in the village, and I will never forget how their yellowish glow in the doors and windows soothed us. But that was all the help we received. Not one of the villagers, to their shame, agreed to come with us to the Admiral Benbow.

The more we talked about our worries, the more we clung to our corners. The name of Captain Flint, until then unknown to me, was well known to many of them and terrified them. Some recalled that once, while working in a field near the Admiral Benbow, they saw some suspicious people on the road. The strangers seemed to them to be smugglers, and they hurried home to close their doors tightly. Someone even saw a small lugger Small sailing ship. in a cove called Kitt's Lair. Therefore, the mere mention of the captain's friends made them in awe. There were daredevils who agreed to go after Dr. Livesey, who lived in the other side, but no one wanted to take part in guarding the inn.

They say cowardice is contagious. But reasonable arguments, on the contrary, can instill courage in a person. When everyone refused to go with us, the mother said that she was not going to lose the money that belonged to her orphaned son.

You can be as timid as you like, ”she said,“ Jim and I are not a cowardly ten. We will return the same way we came. Little honor to you, stalwart and broad-shouldered men with such chicken souls! We will open the chest, even if we had to die because of it ... I will be very grateful, Mrs. Crossley, if you would allow me to take your bag to put money that belongs to us by law.

Of course, I said that I would go with my mother, and, of course, everyone yelled that this was madness. However, none, not even men, volunteered to accompany us. Their help was limited to the fact that they gave me a loaded pistol in case of an attack and promised to keep saddled horses ready so that we could escape if the robbers chased us. And one young man galloped to the doctor for armed reinforcements.

My heart pounded as we set out on our dangerous journey. The evening was cold. The full moon was rising. She had already risen above the horizon and blushed in the fog, shining brighter with every minute. We realized that soon it would be daylight, and it would be easy to spot us on the way back. Therefore, we rushed even more. We crept along the fences, noiselessly and quickly, and, not encountering anything terrible on the road, finally reached the Admiral Benbow.

Entering the house, I immediately bolted the door. Breathing heavily, we stood in the dark, alone in an empty house where a dead body lay. Then my mother brought a candle from the bar and, holding hands, we entered the common room. The captain was lying in the same position as we had left him - on his back, with open eyes, with one arm thrown back.

Draw the curtains down, Jim, ”her mother whispered. - They can follow us through the window ... And now, - she said, when I pulled down the curtains, - we need to find the key to the chest ... But I would like to know who will dare to touch him ...

And she even sobbed a little at these words.

I knelt down. On the floor, near the captain's hand, lay a tiny paper circle, smeared with something black on one side. I had no doubt that this was the black mark. I grabbed it and noticed that on the other side of it was written in a beautiful, clear handwriting: "We will give you until ten in the evening."

He had a sentence of up to ten, Mom, ”I said.

And at the same instant, our old clock began to strike. This sudden sound made us flinch violently. But he also made us happy, since it was only six o'clock.

Well, Jim, said his mother, look for the key.

I searched the captain's pockets one by one. A few small coins, a thimble, threads and a thick needle, a piece of rolled tobacco, bitten from the edge, a knife with a crooked handle, a pocket compass, a flint - that's all I found there. I already began to despair ...

Maybe on the neck? - said the mother.

Overcoming my disgust, I tore the collar of his shirt. And indeed, on a tarred rope, which I immediately cut with the captain's own knife, hung a key.

This good fortune filled our hearts with hope, and we hurried upstairs to that cramped room where the captain had lived for so long and where his chest had stood since the day of his arrival.

Outside, it was the most ordinary sailor's chest. The letter "B" was visible on the lid, burned out with a hot iron. The corners were frayed and knocked down, as if this chest had served a long and difficult service.

Give me the key, said the mother.

The lock gave in tightly, but she managed to open it, and in an instant she threw back the lid.

We smelled of the strong smell of tobacco and tar. First of all, we saw a new suit, carefully cleaned and ironed, very good and, according to the mother, never put on. Pulling up the suit, we found a bunch of a wide variety of items: a quadrant, A device for measuring the height of celestial bodies. a tin mug, a few lumps of tobacco, two pairs of fine pistols, an ingot of silver, an old Spanish clock, a few trinkets, not very valuable, but mostly foreign made, two copper-rimmed compasses and five or six fancy shells from the West Indies. Subsequently, I often wondered why the captain, who lived such a restless, dangerous, criminal life, carried these shells with him.

But we didn’t find anything of value except a bar of silver and trinkets, and we didn’t need it. At the very bottom lay an old boat cloak, white with salt water near many of the coastal shoals. Mother threw it back impatiently, and we saw the last things lying in the chest: a bag wrapped in oilcloth, like a bundle of papers, and a canvas bag, in which, judging by the ringing, there was gold.

I will show these robbers that I am an honest woman, - said the mother. - I will only take what he owed me, and no farthing Farthing is a small English coin. more. Keep Mrs. Crossley's bag!

And she began to count the money, transferring it from the bag to the bag that I was holding. It was difficult and time-consuming. Here were collected and mixed coins of a wide variety of minting and countries: doubloons, louis, guineas, piastres, and some others unknown to me. Guineas were the least of all, and my mother could only count guineas.

When she had already counted half of what the captain owed us, I suddenly grabbed her hand. In the quiet, frosty air, there was a sound that made my blood frozen in my veins: the tapping of a blind man's stick on the frozen road. The knock was approaching, and we listened to it with bated breath. Then there was a loud bang on the door of the inn, after which the door handle moved and the bolt clanged - the beggar tried to enter. There was silence inside and outside. Finally, the tapping of the stick was heard again. To our indescribable joy, it was now receding and soon died away.

Mom, - I said, - take everything, and we run quickly.

I was convinced that the bolted door seemed suspicious to the blind man, and I was afraid that he would bring his whole swarm of hornets here.

And yet how good it was that I thought to bolt the door! This could only be understood by those who knew this terrible blind man.

But the mother, in spite of all her fear, did not agree to take a single coin more than she should, and at the same time stubbornly did not want to take less. She said that it was not yet seven o'clock, that we had a lot of time. She knows her rights and will not surrender them to anyone. She argued stubbornly with me until we suddenly heard a long, quiet whistle that sounded somewhere in the distance, on a hill.

We immediately stopped bickering.

And I’ll grab this for even counting, ”I said, picking up a sheaf of papers wrapped in an oilcloth.

In a minute we were already groping downstairs. The candle was left by the empty chest. I opened the door and we went out onto the road. There was not a minute to lose. The fog quickly cleared away. The moon dazzled the hills. Only in the depths of the hollow and at the door of the inn was a wavering curtain of misty haze, as if to hide our first steps. But already halfway down the road, a little higher, at the foot of the hill, we had to inevitably get into a strip of moonlight.

And that was not all - in the distance we heard someone's rapid footsteps.

We turned around and saw a light leaping and approaching: someone was carrying a lantern.

Darling, - suddenly said the mother, - take the money and run. I feel like I'm about to faint ...

We were both killed, I decided. How I cursed the cowardice of our neighbors! How angry I was at my poor mother, and for her honesty, and for her greed, for her past courage and her present weakness!

Fortunately, we passed near some kind of bridge. I helped her - she staggered - to go down to the shore. She sighed and leaned on my shoulder. I don’t know where my strength came from, but I dragged her along the coast and dragged her under the bridge. I'm only afraid it was done rather crudely. The bridge was low, and it was only possible to move under it on all fours. I crawled further, under the arch, and my mother remained almost all in sight. It was a few steps from the inn.

CHAPTER 5

THE END OF THE BLIND

It turned out that my curiosity was stronger than my fear. I could not sit still. I cautiously climbed into the hollow and hid behind a broom bush. From here I clearly saw the road in front of the door of the inn.

As soon as I took up my observation post, the enemies appeared. There were seven or eight of them. They approached quickly, their boots clattering loudly and indiscriminately. The man with the lantern ran ahead of everyone. Three followed him, holding hands. Despite the fog, I could see that the middle one in this "trio" was a blind beggar. Then I heard his voice and was convinced that I was right.

Fuck the door! he shouted.

Yes, sir! - responded two or three.

And they charged at the door of the Admiral Benbow; a man with a lantern walked behind. At the very door they stopped and began to confer in a whisper. Obviously, they were amazed that the door was not locked. Then again the orders of the blind man were heard. His impatient, ferocious voice grew louder and shrill.

Into the house! Into the house! he shouted, cursing his comrades for their slowness.

Four or five entered the house, two remained on the road with the terrible beggar. Then, after a few minutes of silence, there was a cry of surprise and a voice screamed from within:

Billy is dead!

But the blind man again scolded them for digging around like that.

Search him, you vile bums! The rest are upstairs, behind the chest! he ordered.

They banged their shoes on the dilapidated steps, and the whole house trembled with their footfall. Then the surprised voices rang out again. The window in the captain's room was thrown wide open, and shards of broken glass rained down with a clang. A man leaned out of the window. His head and shoulders were clearly visible in the moonlight. He shouted to the blind beggar standing below on the road:

Hey, Pew, they've already been here before us! .. Someone rummaged through the entire chest from top to bottom!

And then on the spot? Pugh bellowed.

The money is here.

To hell with money! cried the blind man. “I'm talking about Flint's papers.

Papers are not to be seen, - said the man.

Hey you, down there, look if they are on the body! the blind man shouted again.

Another robber - probably one of those who remained below to search the captain's corpse - appeared at the door of the inn.

They managed to ransack it before us, ”he said. - We were not left with anything.

We were robbed by the local people. That puppy! - shouted Pugh. - It is a pity that I did not gouge out his eyes ... These people were here quite recently. When I wanted to enter, the door was bolted. Look for them guys! Search in all corners ...

Yes, they were here. They left a burning candle, ”said the man in the window.

Search! Search! Search the whole house! - repeated Pugh, banging with a stick.

And so a terrible mess began in our old tavern. Heavy footsteps rang out everywhere. Fragments of broken furniture rained down, doors above and below slammed, so that even the surrounding rocks picked up this mad rumble. But all in vain: people one by one went out onto the road and reported that they had not found us anywhere.

At that moment, in the distance, the same whistle sounded again, which so frightened my mother and me when we counted the coins of the deceased. This time it sounded twice. Before I thought that with this whistle a blind man was calling his comrades to storm. But now I noticed that the whistle was heard from the side of the hill facing the village, and I guessed that this was a signal warning the bandits of danger.

This is Derk, ”one said. - Hear: he whistles twice. We must run, guys.

Run ?! - shouted Pugh. - Oh, you fools! Derk has always been a fool and a coward. Don't listen to Dirk. They are around here somewhere. They couldn't run far. You must find them. Look, dogs! Search! Search in all the nooks and crannies! Oh devil! he exclaimed. - Have my eyes!

This shout somewhat encouraged the robbers. Two of them began to prowl between the trees in the grove, but reluctantly, barely moving. They seemed to me to think more about escape than about seeking. The rest stood in confusion in the middle of the road.

We have thousands in our hands, and you mumble like idiots! If you find this paper, you will be richer than the king! This paper is here, just a stone's throw away, and you shirk and try to get away! There was not a single daredevil among you who would dare to go to Billy and give him a black mark. I did it, blind! And because of you I am now losing my happiness! I have to grovel in poverty and beg for a penny for a glass when I could drive around in carriages!

But we have doubloons, ”one grumbled.

And they must have hidden the paper, ”added another. - Take the money, Pew, and stop raving.

Pew really was kind of mad. The last objections of the robbers finally infuriated him. In a fit of violent anger, he raised his stick and, throwing himself blindly at his comrades, began to reward them with blows.

Those, in turn, responded to the villain with curses, accompanying them with terrible threats. They tried to grab the stick and pull it out of his hands.

This quarrel was a salvation for us.

While they were fighting and quarreling, from the hills, from the direction of the village, came the sound of galloping horses. Almost at the same instant, somewhere behind the hedge, a light flashed and a pistol shot rang out. This was the last signal. It meant that danger was near. The robbers rushed in different directions - some to the sea, along the coast of the bay, others up the slope of the hill. Half a minute later, only Pew was left on the road. They left him alone - maybe they forgot about him in panic, or maybe on purpose in revenge for the abuse and beatings. Left alone, he was furiously banging on the road with a stick and, stretching out his arms, called out to his comrades, but finally lost his way and, instead of rushing to the sea, ran towards the village.

He rushed a few paces away from me, saying in a crying voice:

Johnny, Black Dog, Darc ... - He mentioned other names. - After all, you will not throw old Pew, dear comrades, because you will not leave old Pew!

Meanwhile, the pounding of horses approached. Already five or six riders could be discerned, illuminated by the moon. They raced at full speed down the hillside.

Then the blind man realized that he was going in the wrong place. With a cry, he turned and ran straight to the roadside ditch, into which he was quick to slide. But immediately he got up and, maddened, scrambled back onto the road, just under the feet of the horse, galloping in front of everyone.

The horseman wanted to save him, but it was too late. The desperate cry of the blind man seemed to rip apart the darkness of the night. The horse's four hooves crumpled and crushed him. He fell on his side, slowly rolled over on his back, and no longer moved.

I jumped to my feet and called out to the riders. They stopped, terrified of the misfortune that had occurred. I recognized them at once. The one galloping behind everyone was the same teenager who volunteered to drive from the village for Dr. Livesey. The rest turned out to be the customs guards he met along the way. He was smart enough to call them for help. Rumors of some lugger in Kitt's Lair had reached the customs officer, Mr. Dance, before. The road to Kitt's Lair passed our inn, and Danse rode there at once, accompanied by his party. Thanks to this happy accident, my mother and I were saved from certain death.

Pugh was killed on the spot. We took my mother to the village. There they gave her a smell of aromatic salt, sprayed her with cold water, and she woke up. Despite all the fears she had endured, she did not stop complaining that she did not have time to take from the captain's money the entire amount that was rightfully due to her.

Meanwhile, Customs Officer Dance rode with his squadron to Kitt's Lair. But the guards dismounted and carefully descended the slope, leading the horses by the bridle, or even supporting them, and constantly fearing an ambush. And, naturally, by the time they finally reached the bay, the ship had already managed to raise the anchor, although it was still not far from the coast. Danse called out to him. A voice came in response, advising him to avoid moonlit areas unless he wanted a good dose of lead. And immediately a bullet whizzed past his shoulder.

Soon the ship rounded the cape and disappeared.

Mr. Dance, in his own words, felt, standing on the shore, like "a fish thrown out of the water." He immediately sent a man to B ... to send a cutter to the sea. Single-masted vessel.

But it’s all in vain, ”he said. - They ran away, and you can't catch them. I’m glad, too, ”he added,“ that I stepped on Mr. Pew's corn.

I already had time to tell him about the blind man.

I returned with him to the Admiral Benbow. It is difficult to convey what kind of defeat there was. The bandits, looking for my mother and me, even tore off the clock from the wall. And although they took nothing with them, except for the money bag that belonged to the captain, and a few silver coins from our box office, it immediately became clear to me that we were ruined.

For a long time Mr. Dance could not understand anything.

You say they took the money? Explain to me, Hawkins, what else did they want? Were they looking for any other money?

No sir, not money, I replied. “What they were looking for is here in my side pocket. To tell you the truth, I would like to put this thing in a safer place.

That's right, boy, that's right, '' he said. - Give it to me if you want.

I thought I'd give it to Dr. Livesey ... - I began.

Right! - He interrupted me eagerly. - Right. Dr. Livesey is a gentleman and a judge. Perhaps I myself should have gone to see him or the squire and reported what had happened. After all, after all, Pugh is dead. I don’t regret it at all, but there may be people who will place the blame on me, the royal customs officer. You know what, Hawkins? Come with me. I'll take you with me if you want.

I thanked him and we went to the village where the horses were standing. While I was saying goodbye to my mother, everyone was already in the saddle.

Dogger, said Mr Dance, you have a good horse. Sit this fellow behind you.

As soon as I sat down behind Dogger and took hold of his belt, the overseer ordered to get under way, and the detachment rode at a brisk trot along the road to Dr. Livesey's house.

CHAPTER 6

CAPTAIN'S PAPERS

We rushed at full speed and finally stopped at the house of Dr. Livesey. The entire façade was plunged into darkness.

Mr. Dance told me to jump off my horse and knock. Dogger put up a stirrup to make it easier for me to get off. A servant came out to knock.

Is Dr. Livesey at home? I asked.

No, she answered. “He returned home in the afternoon, and has now gone to the estate to dine and spend the evening with the squire.

In that case, we're going there, ”said Mr. Dance.

It was not far to the estate. I didn't even get into the saddle, but ran next to the horse, holding onto Dogger's stirrup.

The park gates flashed. A long, leafless, moonlit alley led to a far-off white-washed manor house, surrounded by a spacious old garden. Mr. Dance jumped off his horse and led me into the house. We were immediately admitted there.

A servant led us down a long, carpeted corridor to the master's office. The cabinet walls were lined with bookcases. There was a bust on every closet. The squire and Dr. Livesey sat by the bright fire and smoked.

I've never seen a squire this close. He was a tall man, more than six feet tall, stout, with a thick, stern face that had been hardened and weather-beaten during the long wanderings. He had black movable eyebrows that betrayed not evil, but haughty and irascible disposition.

Come in, Mr. Dance, ”he said arrogantly and condescendingly. - Good evening!

Good evening, Dance, said the doctor and nodded his head. - Good evening, friend Jim. What tailwind brought you here?

The customs officer straightened up, hands at his seams, and recounted all our adventures like a learned lesson. You should have seen how meaningfully these two gentlemen exchanged glances during his story! They listened with such curiosity that they even stopped smoking. And when they heard my mother go back to our house at night, Dr. Livesey slapped himself on the thigh, and the squire shouted "bravo" and smashed his long pipe on the grate of the fireplace. Mr. Trelawney (so, if you remember, the squire was called) had long ago left his chair and paced the room, and the doctor, as if to hear better, pulled off his powdered wig from his head. It was strange to see him without a wig, with short black hair.

Finally Mr. Dance finished his story.

Mr. Dance, said the squire, you are a noble man! And having finished off one of the bloodthirsty villains, you have done a valiant deed. Such should be crushed like cockroaches! .. Hawkins, I see, is also not a small miss. Ring that bell, Hawkins. Mr. Dance needs a beer.

So Jim, ”the doctor said,“ is what they were looking for is here with you? ”

Here it is, ”I said, and handed him the bag wrapped in oilcloth.

The doctor examined the package from all sides. Apparently he was impatient to open it. But he overpowered himself and calmly put the package in his pocket.

Squire, ”he said,“ when Danse drinks a beer, he will have to return to his official duties. And Jim Hawkins will be spending the night with me. If you will allow me, I will now ask you to serve him a cold pâté for supper.

Still, do mercy, Livesey! - said the squire. “Hawkins deserves a little more today.

A large portion of pigeon pate was placed in front of me on one of the small tables. I was hungry like a wolf, and I dined with great pleasure. In the meantime, Danse, having heard a lot of new praise, withdrew.

Well, squire, said the doctor.

Well, doctor, said the squire.

In one word! Dr. Livesey laughed. "I hope you've heard of this Flint?"

Have I heard of Flint ?! exclaimed the squire. “Are you asking if I’ve heard of Flint?” He was the most bloodthirsty pirate who ever sailed on the sea. Blackbeard in front of Flint baby. Spaniards In the 18th century England was at war with Spain and France, and in the 17th century also with Holland; hence the enmity of some of the characters in the novel towards the Spaniards, French and Dutch. they were so afraid of him that, I confess to you, sir, at times I was proud that he was an Englishman. One day near Trinidad I saw in the distance the tops of his sails, but our captain got cold feet and immediately turned back, sir, to Port of Spain. The capital of the island of Trinidad in the Caribbean.

I've heard of him here in England, ”the doctor said. - But the question is: did he have money?

Money! cried the squire. “Didn't you hear what Danse was saying? What could these villains be looking for if not money? What do they need besides money? For what, besides money, would they risk their skin?

We'll soon find out why they risked their hide, ”the doctor replied. “You’re so excited that you don’t let me say a word. Here's what I would like to find out: suppose here, in my pocket, is a key that can be used to find out where Flint hid his treasures. Are these treasures great?

Are they great, sir! shouted the squire. - So listen! If only we really have in our hands the key of which you speak, I will immediately equip a suitable ship at the Bristol docks, take you and Hawkins with me and get food for this treasure, even if we had to search for it for a whole year!

Great, said the doctor. “In that case, if Jim agrees, let's open the package.

And he put the package in front of him on the table.

The package was tightly sewn with threads. The doctor took out his toolbox and cut the threads with surgical scissors. The package contained two things: a notebook and a sealed envelope.

First of all, let's look at the notebook, the doctor suggested.

He gently called me over to him, and I got up from the table at which I was having dinner to take part in solving the mystery. The doctor began leafing through the notebook. The squire and I looked curiously over his shoulder.

All kinds of scribbles were scrawled on the front page of the notebook. It seemed that they were taken out of nothing to do or to try the pen. By the way, there was also the inscription that the captain had tattooed on his arm: "May Billy Bones' dreams come true", and others of the same kind, for example: "Mr. W. Bones, navigator", "Enough rum", "Have Palm Key " An islet off the coast of Florida. he got everything that was due to him. " There were other inscriptions, completely incomprehensible, consisted mostly of one word. I was very interested in who was the one who received, “what was due to him,” and what exactly was due to him. Perhaps a stab in the back?

Well, you can't get a lot out of this page, ”said Dr. Livesey.

The next ten or twelve pages were full of strange accounting entries. On one end of the line was the date, and on the other was the sum of money, as is usual in ledgers. But instead of any explanations, there was only a different number of crosses in between. On the twelfth of June 1745, for example, the sum of seventy pounds sterling was marked, but all the explanation of where it came from was replaced by six crosses. Occasionally, however, the name of the area was added, for example: "Against Caracas", or simply marked the latitude and longitude, for example: "62 ° 17'20", 19 ° 2'40 "".

The recordings have been going on for almost twenty years. The amounts charged became larger and larger. And at the very end, after five or six erroneous, crossed out calculations, the total was summed up, and at the bottom it was signed: "Bons share".

I can't figure it out, ”said Dr. Livesey.

Everything is clear as day! exclaimed the squire. - Before us is the receipt book of this vile dog. The names of sunken ships and plundered cities are replaced with crosses. The numbers indicate the share of this murderer in the total loot. Where he feared inaccuracy, he inserted some explanations. Against Caracas, for example. This means that some unfortunate ship was robbed against Caracas. The poor sailors who sailed on it have long been rotting among the corals.

Right! the doctor said. “This is what it means to be a traveler! Right! And his share grew as he rose in rank.

There was nothing else in this notebook, except for the names of some localities, written on blank sheets, and a table for converting English, Spanish and French money into current coins.

Saver! the doctor exclaimed. - You can't cheat him.

And now, - said the squire, - let's see what's here.

The envelope was sealed in several places. The seal was a thimble I found in the captain's pocket. The doctor carefully broke the seals, and a map of some island, with latitude and longitude, with the designation of the depths of the sea near the coast, with the names of hills, bays and capes, fell on the table. In general, there was everything that might be needed to approach the unknown island and drop anchor without any risk.

The island was nine miles long and five miles wide. He looked like a fat dragon rearing up. We noticed two harbors, well sheltered from the storms, and a hill in the middle called the Spyglass.

There were many additions on the map later. The most striking three crosses in red ink — two in the northern part of the island and one in the southwest. Near this last cross, in the same red ink, in small, clear handwriting, not at all like the captain's scrawls, was written:

On the back of the card were explanations in the same handwriting. Here they are:

“A tall tree on the shoulder of a Spyglass, northward direction from S.-S.-W.

Skeleton Island V.-Y.-V. and V. Ten feet.

Silver ingots in the northern pit. You will find her on the slope of the eastern hill, ten fathoms south of the black rock, if you face her.

It is easy to find the weapon in a sandy hill on the north end of the North Cape, keep it on the east and a quarter point to the north.

And that's all. These notes seemed completely incomprehensible to me. But despite their brevity, they delighted the squire and Dr. Livesey.

Livesey, said the squire, you must give up your pitiful practice at once. I'm going to Bristol tomorrow. In three weeks ... no, in two weeks ... no, in ten days we will have the best ship, sir, and the finest crew in all of England. Hawkins will go as a cabin boy ... You will make a fine cabin boy, Hawkins ... You, Livesey, are a ship's doctor. I am an admiral. We'll take Redruth, Joyce and Hunter with us. A favorable wind will quickly bring us to the island. Finding treasures there will not be difficult. We will have so many coins that we will have enough for food, we can swim in them, throw them ricochet into the water ...

Trelawney, ”said the doctor,“ I'm going with you. I guarantee that Jim and I will live up to your trust. But there is one that I'm afraid to rely on.

Who is he? exclaimed the squire. - Name this dog, sir!

You, ”the doctor replied,“ because you cannot keep your mouth shut. We are not the only ones who know about these securities. The robbers who destroyed the inn tonight - as you see, a desperately brave people, and those robbers who remained on the ship - and besides them, I dare say, there are somewhere else nearby - will, of course, do everything possible to take possession of treasures. We must not show ourselves anywhere alone until we leave the coast. I will stay here with Jim until we leave. Take Joyce and Hunter and travel to Bristol with them. And, most importantly, we should not say a word to anyone about our find.

Livesey, said the squire, you are always right. I will be as dumb as the grave.

ADVENTURE LIBRARY

AND SCIENCE

NOVOSIBIRSK ~ 1991

R. L. STEVENSON

TREASURE ISLAND

BLACK ARROW

STRANGE STORY

THE DOCTORS

JEKILA

MISTERS

HIDE

TRANSLATION FROM ENGLISH

"CHILDREN'S LITERATURE"

Siberian branch

BBK 84. 4 Vl .

WITH 80

Robert lewis stevenson

In 30 Vol.- London: Heinemann,

1924-1926.

Translation H ... CHUKOVSKY

Drawings by G. Brock

PART ONE

OLD PIRATE

CHAPTER I

Old sea wolf

in the inn "Admiral Benbow"

quire? Trelawney, Dr. Livesey and other gentlemen have asked me to write everything I know about Treasure Island. They want me to tell the whole story, from the very beginning to the end, without hiding any details other than the geographical location of the island. It is still impossible to indicate where this island lies, since even now there are treasures that we did not take out from there. And this year, 17 .., I take up my pen and mentally return to the time when my father had an inn "Admiral Benbow"? and in this tavern settled an old tanned sailor with a saber scar on his cheek.

[? Squire is a title of nobility in England.]

[? Benbow was an English admiral who lived at the end of the 17th century.]

I remember, as if it was yesterday, how, stepping heavily, he dragged himself to our door, and his sea chest was taken after him in a wheelbarrow. He was a tall, strong, overweight man with a dark complexion. A tarnished braid stuck out over the collar of his greasy blue coat. His hands were rough, with some kind of scars, his nails were black, broken, and the saber scar on his cheek was of a dirty white color, with a tint of lead. I remember how a stranger, whistling, looked around our bay and suddenly began to sing an old sailor's song, which he then sang so often:

Fifteen people per dead man's chest.

[? Vymbovka - the lever of the spire (the gate used to raise the anchor).]

And his stick was like a handspug ?. He knocked this stick on our door, and when my father came out on the threshold, he rudely demanded a glass of rum.

[? Handspug - a lever for lifting weights.]

Rum was served to him, and with the air of a connoisseur he began to slowly savor every sip. He drank and looked now at the rocks, now at the inn sign.

The bay is comfortable, he said at last. Not a bad place for a tavern. A lot of people, buddy?

The father replied that no, unfortunately, very little.

Well then! - said the sailor. - This anchorage is just for me ... Hey, brother! - he shouted to the man who rolled the wheelbarrow after him. - Row up here and help me to drag the chest ... I will live here a little, - he continued. I'm simple. Rum, pork belly, scrambled eggs - that's all I need. Yes, there is that cape from which the ships passing through the sea are visible ... What should you call me? Well, call me captain ... Hey, I see what you want! Here!

And he threw three or four gold coins on the threshold.

When these are over, you can come and say, ”he said menacingly and looked at his father with the air of a commander.

Indeed, although his clothes were poor and his speech was rude, he did not look like a simple sailor. Rather, he could be mistaken for a navigator or skipper, who is used to being obeyed and loves to give vent to his fist. The man with the wheelbarrow told us that the stranger arrived yesterday morning by post office at the King George Hotel and inquired about all the inns near the sea. Must have heard good reviews about our inn and learned that it was on departure, the captain decided to stay with us. That's all that we managed to find out about our guest.

He was a silent man. For days he wandered along the coast of the bay or climbed the rocks with a copper telescope. In the evenings, he sat in the common room in the very corner, by the fire, and drank rum, slightly diluted with water. He did not answer if someone spoke to him. He will only cast a fierce look and whistle with his nose, like a ship's siren in the fog. Soon we and our visitors learned to leave him alone. Every day, returning from a walk, he inquired if any sailors had passed our way. At first we thought that he lacked the company of the same bums as himself. But in the end we began to understand that he wants to be away from them. If any sailor, making his way along the coastal road to Bristol, stopped at the Admiral Benbow, the captain first looked at it from behind the door curtain and only then went into the living room. In the presence of such people, he always sat as quiet as a mouse.

I knew what was the matter, because the captain shared his concern with me. One day he took me aside and promised to pay me first

the day of each month, four pence in silver, if I “look in both eyes, if a sailor will appear“ on one leg, ”and I will inform him as soon as I see one. When the first day came and I turned to him for the promised salary, he just blew his nose and glared at me fiercely. But not even a week had passed when, on reflection, he brought me a coin and repeated the order not to let the "sailor on one leg" pass.

Well, I have endured fear with this one-legged sailor! He haunted me even in my sleep. On stormy nights, when the wind shook all four corners of our house, and the surf roared in the bay and in the cliffs, I dreamed of it in a thousand ways, in the form of a thousand different devils. The leg was cut off from his knee, then to the very thigh. At times he seemed to me like some kind of terrible monster, in which one single leg grows from the very middle of the body. He chased me on that one leg, jumping over fences and ditches. I paid dearly my fourpence every month; I paid for it with these disgusting dreams.

But no matter how terrible the one-legged sailor was for me, I was much less afraid of the captain than everyone else. On some evenings he drank so much rum and water that his head was shaking, and then he stayed for a long time in the tavern and sang his old, wild, cruel sea songs, not paying attention to anyone present. And it also happened that he invited everyone to his table, demanded glasses and made the shy drinking companions either listen to his stories about sea adventures, or sing along with him in chorus. The walls of our house then shuddered from "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum", as all the visitors, fearing his violent anger, tried to shout down one another and sing as loud as possible, if only the captain was satisfied with them, because at such hours he was unbridledly formidable: then he knocked on the table with his fist, demanding that everyone be silent; he would get enraged if someone interrupted his speech, asked him any question; then, on the contrary, he became ferocious if they did not ask him questions, since, in his opinion, this proved that they were not listening to him attentively. He did not let anyone out of the inn - the company could disperse only when he was possessed by a drowsiness from the wine he had drunk and he staggered to his bed.

Robert Louis Stevenson

Treasure Island

PART ONE

Old pirate

Chapter 1

OLD SEA WOLF IN THE "ADMIRAL BENBOU"

And his stick was like a ganspug. He knocked this stick on our door, and when my father came out on the threshold, he rudely demanded a glass of rum.

Rum was served to him, and with the air of a connoisseur he began to slowly savor every sip. He drank and looked now at the rocks, now at the inn sign.

“The bay is comfortable,” he said at last. - Not a bad place for a tavern. A lot of people, buddy?

The father replied that no, unfortunately, very little.

- Well then! - said the sailor. - This ... just for me ... Hey buddy! He shouted to the man who was driving the wheelbarrow after him. - Come here and help me to drag the chest ... I will live here a little, - he continued. - I'm a simple person. Rum, pork belly and scrambled eggs are all I need. Yes, there is that cape from which the ships passing through the sea are visible ... What should you call me? Well, call me captain ... Hey, I see what you want! Here!

And he threw three or four gold coins on the threshold.

“When these are over, you can come and tell me,” he said sternly and looked at his father like a boss.

Indeed, although his clothes were poor and his speech was rude, he did not look like a simple sailor. Rather, he could be mistaken for a navigator or skipper, who was used to being obeyed. It was felt that he liked to give vent to his fist. The man with the wheelbarrow told us that the stranger arrived yesterday morning at the post office at the King George Hotel and inquired about all the inns near the sea. Having heard about our tavern, there must have been good reviews and having learned that it was on departure, the captain decided to stay with us. That's all that we managed to find out about our guest.

He was a silent man. For days he wandered along the coast of the bay or climbed the rocks with a copper telescope. In the evenings, he sat in the common room in the very corner, by the fire, and drank rum, slightly diluted with water. He did not answer if someone spoke to him. He will only cast a fierce look and whistle with his nose, like a ship's siren in the fog. Soon we and our visitors learned to leave him alone. Every day, returning from a walk, he inquired if any sailors had passed along our way. At first we thought that he lacked the company of the same bums as himself. But in the end we began to understand that he wants to be away from them. If any sailor, making his way along the coastal road to Bristol, stopped at the Admiral Benbow, the captain first looked at it from behind the door curtain and only then went into the living room. In the presence of such people, he always sat as quiet as a mouse.

I knew what was the matter, because the captain shared his concern with me. One day he took me aside and promised to pay me four pence in silver on the first of every month if I "looked in both eyes to see if a sailor would appear anywhere on one leg," and I would inform him as soon as I saw one. When the first day came and I turned to him for the promised salary, he just blew his nose and glared at me fiercely. But not even a week had passed when, on reflection, he brought me a coin and repeated the order not to let the "sailor on one leg" pass.

This one-legged sailor haunted me even in my sleep.

On stormy nights, when the wind shook all four corners of our house, and the surf roared in the bay and in the cliffs, I dreamed of it in a thousand ways, in the form of a thousand different devils. The leg was cut off from his knee, then to the very thigh. At times he seemed to me like some kind of terrible monster, in which one single leg grows from the very middle of the body. He chased me on that one leg, jumping over fences and ditches. I paid dearly my fourpence every month; I paid for it with these disgusting dreams.

But no matter how terrible the one-legged sailor was for me, I was much less afraid of the captain than everyone else. On some evenings he drank so much rum and water that his head was shaking, and then he stayed for a long time in the tavern and sang his old, wild, cruel sea songs, not paying attention to anyone present. And it also happened that he invited everyone to his table and demanded glasses. The invitees trembled with fright, and he made them either listen to his stories about sea adventures, or sing along with him in chorus. The walls of our house then shuddered from "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum", as all the visitors, fearing his violent anger, tried to shout down one another and sing as loud as possible, if only the captain was satisfied with them, because at such hours he was unbridledly formidable: then he knocked on the table with his fist, demanding that everyone be silent; he would get enraged if someone interrupted his speech, asked him any question; then, on the contrary, he became ferocious if they asked him questions, since, in his opinion, this proved that they were not listening to him attentively. He did not let anyone out of the inn - the company could disperse only when he was possessed by a nap from the wine he had drunk and he staggered to his bed.

But the worst of all were his stories. Horrible stories about gallows, about walking on a plank, about storms and about Dry Tortugas, about robber's nests and predatory exploits in the Spanish Sea.

Judging by his stories, he spent his entire life among the most notorious villains who have ever been at sea. And the abuse that flew out of his mouth after every word frightened our simple-minded village people no less than the crimes he spoke of.

Father constantly insisted that we would have to close our tavern: the captain would drive away all visitors from us. Who wants to be subjected to such bullying and tremble with horror on the way home! However, I think that the captain, on the contrary, brought us more benefit. True, the visitors were afraid of him, but a day later they were drawn to him again. In a quiet, backwater life, he introduced some kind of pleasant alarm. Among the youth there were even admirers of the captain, who declared that they admired him. "A real sea wolf, thoroughly salted by the sea!" They exclaimed.

According to them, it was people like our captain who made England a thunderstorm of the seas.

But, on the other hand, this person really brought us losses. Week after week, month after month; the money he gave us when he arrived had long been spent, but he didn’t pay any new money, and my father didn’t have the heart to demand it. As soon as the father hinted at the pay, the captain began to sniff with fury; it was not even a sniff, but a growl; he looked at his father in such a way that he flew out of the room in horror. I saw him wring his hands in despair after such attempts. There is no doubt for me that these fears greatly accelerated my father's sad and premature death.

During his entire stay with us, the captain wore the same clothes, only he bought several pairs of stockings from the peddler. One edge of his hat is loose; the captain left him, although in a strong wind it was a great inconvenience. I remember well what a tattered caftan he had; no matter how much he repaired it upstairs, in his room, in the end the caftan turned into rags.

He never wrote or received any letters from anywhere. And he never spoke to anyone, unless he was very drunk. And none of us have ever seen him open his chest.

Only once did they dare to contradict the captain, and that happened in the very last days, when my unfortunate father was dying.

One evening, Dr. Livesey came to see the patient. He examined the patient, hastily ate the dinner that my mother had given him, and went down to the common room to smoke a pipe, waiting for the horse to be brought to him. The horse remained in the village, as there was no stable in the old Benbow.

I brought him into the common room, and I remember how this elegant, dapperly dressed doctor in a snow-white wig, black-eyed, well-mannered, struck me with his dissimilarity with the village lugs who visited our tavern. He was especially sharply different from our raven scarecrow, a dirty, gloomy, overweight pirate, who sprinkled himself with rum and sat with his elbows on the table.

Suddenly the captain roared his eternal song:

Fifteen people per dead man's chest.

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

Drink, and the devil will bring you to the end.

Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

At first I thought that the "dead man's chest" is the same chest that stands upstairs in the captain's room.

In my terrible dreams, this chest often appeared in front of me along with the one-legged sailor. But little by little we got so used to this song that we stopped paying attention to it. This evening it was news only to Dr. Livesey and, as I noticed, did not make a pleasant impression on him. He glanced angrily at the captain before resuming his conversation with old gardener Taylor about a new treatment for rheumatism. Meanwhile, the captain, flushed by his own singing, banged his fist on the table. This meant that he was demanding silence.

All voices fell silent at once; only Dr. Livesey continued his good-natured and loud speech, puffing his pipe after each word. The captain glanced at him piercingly, then slammed his fist on the table again, then looked even more piercingly and suddenly yelled, accompanying his words with obscene language:

- Hey, there, on deck, be silent!

- Are you talking to me, sir? The doctor asked.

He said that it was to him, and moreover, he swore again.

“In that case, sir, I’ll tell you one thing,” the doctor replied. - If you do not stop drinking, you will soon rid the world of one of the most vile scoundrels!

The captain was furious. He jumped to his feet, pulled out and opened his sailor's folding knife and began to threaten the doctor that he would nail him to the wall.

The doctor didn't even move. He continued to speak to him without turning around, over his shoulder, in the same voice - maybe only a little louder so that everyone could hear. Calmly and firmly he said:

“If you don’t put this knife in your pocket now, I swear on your honor that you will hang out on the gallows after the first session of our traveling court.

A duel began between their eyes. But the captain soon gave up. He hid his knife and sank into a chair, grumbling like a battered dog.

“And now, sir,” the doctor continued, “since I have learned that there is such a person in my district, I will have the strictest supervision over you day and night. I am not only a doctor, I am also a judge. And if even the slightest complaint reaches me - even if only that you were rude to someone ... like now - I will take decisive measures to get you taken and kicked out of here. I won't say anything else.

Soon a horse was brought to Doctor Livesey, and he rode away. But the captain was quiet and humble all evening and remained so for many evenings in a row.

Chapter 2

BLACK DOG COMES AND GOES

Soon the first of those mysterious events happened, thanks to which we finally got rid of the captain. But, having got rid of him, we did not get rid, as you yourself will see, of his troublesome affairs.

It was a cold winter with long, bitter frosts and stormy winds. And from the very beginning it became clear that my poor father would hardly see spring. He got worse every day. My mother and I had to run the tavern. We had a lot of things to do, and we paid very little attention to our unpleasant guest.

It was an early January frosty morning. The bay has turned gray from frost. Small ripples gently licked the coastal stones. The sun has not yet had time to rise and has only touched the tops of the hills and the sea with its rays. The captain woke up earlier than usual and headed for the sea. A dagger swayed under the wide skirts of his frayed blue caftan. He had a telescope under his arm. He pushed his hat to the back of his head. I remember that steam flew out of his mouth and swirled in the air like smoke. I heard him snort viciously as he hid behind a large cliff - probably still could not forget his encounter with Dr. Livesey.

My mother was upstairs with my father, and I set the breakfast table for the arrival of the captain. Suddenly the door opened and a man entered the room whom I had never seen before.

He was pale, with an earthy face. He was missing two fingers on his left hand. There was nothing belligerent about him, although he had a dagger at his belt. I always kept an eye on every sailor, be he on one leg or two, and I remember that this man puzzled me very much. He looked little like a sailor, and yet I felt that he was a sailor.

I asked him what he liked and he demanded rum. I was about to rush out of the room to carry out his order, but he sat down at the table and again called me over to him. I stopped with a napkin in my hand.

“Come here, son,” he said. - Come closer.

I went.

- Is this table set for my friend, navigator Billy? He asked, grinning.

I replied that I did not know any navigator Billy and that the table was set for one of our guests, whom we call the captain.

“Well,” he said, “my friend, navigator Billy, can also be called the captain. This does not change the matter. He has a scar on his cheek and a very pleasant handling, especially when he gets drunk. This is what he is, my navigator Billy! Your captain also has a scar on his cheek. And just on the right. So it's all right, isn't it? So, I would like to know: is it found here in this house, my friend Billy?

I replied that the captain went for a walk.

- Where, son? Where did he go?

I showed him the rock on which the captain had been daily, and said that he would probably be back soon.

- And when?

And, asking me a few more different questions, he said at the end:

- Yes, my friend Billy will be happy with me as a drink.

However, his face was gloomy at these words, and I had every reason to think that the captain would not be too happy to meet him. But I immediately told myself that this did not concern me. And besides, it was difficult to do anything under such circumstances. The stranger stood at the very front door of the inn and watched the corner of the house like a cat watching for a mouse. I was about to go out into the yard, but he immediately called out to me. I did not immediately obey him, and his pale face was suddenly contorted with such anger, and he burst into such curses that I jumped back in fear. But as soon as I returned, he began to talk to me as before, either flatteringly or even mockingly, patted me on the shoulder, told me that I was a nice boy and that he immediately fell in love with me.

“I have a son,” he said, “and you look like him like two drops of water. He is the pride of my parental heart. But for boys, the main thing is obedience. Yes, sonny, obedience. Now, if you went swimming with Billy, you wouldn't have to be called out twice. Billy never repeated orders, and the others who swam with him ... And here he is, my navigator Billy, with a telescope under his arm, God bless him! Let's go back to the hall again, hide behind the door, son, and arrange a surprise for Billy, please Billy, God bless him!

With these words, he drove me into the common room, into a corner, and hid me behind him. We were both blocked by an open door. It was both unpleasant and a little scary, as you can imagine, especially when I noticed that the stranger was cowardly himself. He released the handle of his dagger, pulled it out a little from its scabbard and kept making such movements as if he was swallowing some piece stuck in his throat.

Finally the captain burst into the room, slammed the door and, without looking around, went straight to the table, where breakfast was waiting for him.

- Billy! - said the stranger, trying to give his voice firmness and courage.

The captain turned on his heel and was right in front of us. The sunburn seemed to disappear from his face, even his nose turned blue. He looked like a man who had met a ghost, or a devil, or something worse, if that happens. And, I confess to you, I felt sorry for him - so he immediately became old and flabby.

“Don't you recognize me, Billy? Don't you recognize your old shipmate, Billy? The stranger said.

The captain opened his mouth as if he was out of breath.

- Black Dog! He said finally.

“He's the one,” the stranger replied, somewhat cheering up. “The Black Dog has come to visit his old ship friend, his Billy, who lives at the Admiral Benbow Inn. Ah, Billy, Billy! How much water has flowed under the bridge since I lost two of my claws! He exclaimed, raising his crippled hand.

“Okay,” said the captain. “You tracked me down, and I am in front of you. Tell me, why did you come?

“I recognize you, Billy,” the Black Dog replied. “You're right, Billy. This nice little boy, whom I love so much, will bring me a glass of rum. We will sit with you, if you like, and we will talk straightforwardly, straightforwardly, like old comrades. Is not it?

When I returned with the bottle, they were already sitting opposite each other at the captain's table.

The Black Dog sat sideways, closer to the door and looked with one eye at his old friend, and with the other at the door, the escape route.

He told me to leave and leave the door wide open.

- So that you, son, did not peep through the keyhole, - he explained.

I left them alone and went back to the counter.

For a long time, in spite of all my efforts, I did not hear anything but an inarticulate dialect. But little by little the voices grew louder, and at last I was able to catch a few words, mostly swearing, emanating from the captain's lips.

Once the captain shouted:

- No no no no! And enough of that! Do you hear?

And then again:

- If it comes to the gallows, then let everyone hang out on it!

Then, suddenly, there was a terrible explosion of curses, the table and benches fell to the floor with a crash, the steel of the blades clinked, someone cried out in pain, and a minute later I saw the Black Dog running as fast as he could towards the door. The captain was chasing him. Their daggers were bared. The Black Dog was bleeding from his left shoulder. Near the door, the captain swung his dagger and wanted to inflict one more, most terrible blow on the fleeing one and would undoubtedly cut his head in half, but the dagger caught on a large signboard of our "Admiral Benbow". On the sign, below, on the frame itself, you can still see a trace of him.

The battle ended there.

Jumping out onto the road, the Black Dog, in spite of his wound, rushed with such an amazing speed that in half a minute he disappeared over the hill. The captain stood and looked at the sign like a madman. Then he ran his hand over his eyes several times and returned to the house.

“Jim,” he ordered, “rum!

He staggered slightly at these words and leaned his hand against the wall.

- Are you injured? I exclaimed.

- Roma! He repeated. - I need to get out of here. Roma! Roma!

I ran for the rum, but I broke my glass out of excitement and soiled the tap of the barrel with mud. And while I was putting everything in order and pouring another glass, suddenly I heard something in the hall crash heavily on the floor. I ran in and saw the captain, who was stretched out to its full length on the floor. My mother, alarmed by the screams and the fight, ran downstairs to help me. We raised the captain's head. He breathed very loudly and heavily. His eyes were closed, his face turned purple.

- My God! - exclaimed the mother. - What a disgrace for our tavern! And your poor father, as if on purpose, is lying sick!

We did not know how to help the captain, and we were sure that he was wounded to death during a duel with a stranger. I brought rum and tried to pour it into his mouth. But his strong jaws were clenched like iron.

Fortunately, the door opened and Dr. Livesey came in to visit my ailing father.

- Doctor, help! We exclaimed. - What should we do? Where is he injured?

- Injured? The doctor said. - Nonsense! He's just as hurt as you or me. He just has a punch. What to do! I warned him ... Well, Mrs. Hawkins, go back upstairs to your husband and, if possible, do not say anything to him. And I will try to save this unnecessary life three times ... Jim, bring me a basin.

When I returned with the basin, the doctor had already rolled up the captain's sleeve and exposed his large, muscular arm. The arm has been tattooed in many places. Clear inscriptions on the forearm: "Luckily", "Tailwind" and "May Billy Bones' Dreams Come True."

A gallows was drawn near the very shoulder, on which a man dangled. This drawing, as it seemed to me, was made with true knowledge of the matter.

“A prophetic picture,” the doctor remarked, touching the image of the gallows with his finger. - And now, sir Billy Bones, if your name is really that, we'll see what color your blood is ... Jim, - he turned to me, - are you not afraid of blood?

“No, sir,” I said.

“Excellent,” said the doctor. - Then hold the basin.

He took a lancet and opened a vein.

A lot of blood leaked from the captain before he opened his eyes and looked around us with a dim gaze. He recognized the doctor and furrowed his brows. Then he noticed me and seemed to calm down a little. Then he suddenly blushed and, trying to get up, shouted:

- Where is the Black Dog?

“There’s no dog here except the one behind you,” the doctor said. - You drank too much rum. And now you have had a blow, as I predicted to you. And I, against my will, pulled you out of the grave. Well, Mr. Bones ...

“I’m not Bones,” the captain interrupted.

“It doesn't matter,” the doctor said. “I have a pirate friend called Bonsom, and I gave you that name for brevity. Remember what I tell you: one glass of rum will certainly not kill you, but if you drink one glass, you will want to drink more and more. And I swear to you with my wig: if you don't stop drinking, you will die very soon. Clear? Go where the Bible said ... Well, try to get up. I'll help you get to bed.

With great difficulty we dragged the captain upstairs and put him to bed. He collapsed onto the pillow, exhausted. He was almost unconscious.

“So remember,” said the doctor, “I tell you in good conscience: the word“ rum ”and the word“ death ”mean the same thing to you.

Taking my hand, he went to my sick father.

“It's nothing,” he said, as soon as we closed the door behind us. - I bleed so much from him that he will calm down for a long time. She spends a week in bed, which is good for him and for you. But he will not survive the second blow.

CHAPTER 3

BLACK MARK

At about noon, I went to the captain with refreshments and medicine. He lay in the same position as we had left him, only a little higher. He seemed to me very weak and at the same time very agitated.

“Jim,” he said, “you alone are worth something here. And you know: I've always been kind to you. Every month I gave you four pence in silver. You see, friend, I feel bad, I am sick and will be abandoned by everyone! And Jim, you will bring me a glass of rum, won't you?

“Doctor…” I began.

“All doctors are land rats,” he said. - And this doctor here of yours - well, what does he understand about sailors? I have been to countries where it is hot, as in boiling pitch, where people fell from the Yellow Jack, and earthquakes shook the land like a sea wave. What does your doctor know about these places? And I only lived on rum, yeah! Rum was for me meat, water, wife and friend. And if I don't drink rum now, I'll be like a poor old ship washed ashore by a storm. And my blood will be on you, Jim, and on this rat, on the doctor ...

And he again burst into curses.

“Look, Jim, how my fingers are trembling,” he continued in a plaintive voice. “I can’t stop them so they don’t tremble. I didn't have a drop in my mouth today. This doctor is a fool, I assure you. If I don’t drink rum, Jim, I’ll see horror. Something I've already seen, by God! I saw old Flint over there in the corner behind me. I saw him clearly, as if he were alive. And when I see horrors, I become like a beast - I’m used to the rough life. Your doctor himself said that one glass will not kill me. I'll give you a gold guinea for one cup, Jim!

He begged more and more persistently and was so agitated that I was afraid that my father might hear him. Father that day was especially bad, and he needed complete rest. In addition, I was supported by the doctor's words that one glass would not harm the captain.

“I don’t need your money,” I replied, because the offer of a bribe offended me greatly. “Better pay what you owe my father. I'll bring you a glass, but this will be the last one.

I brought a glass of rum. He grabbed it greedily and drank it down.

- That's good! - he said. - I felt better immediately. Listen, friend, the doctor didn’t say how long should I lie on this bed?

“At least a week,” I said. - Not less!

- Thunder and lightning! Cried the captain. - A week! If I stay for a week, they will have time to send me a black mark. These people have already found out where I am - bums and quitters who could not save their own and now buried themselves in someone else's. Is that what real sailors do? Here I am, for example: I am a thrifty person, I have never littered with money and I do not want to lose what I have acquired. I'll inflate them again. I will move away from this reef and again leave them all in the fools.

With these words, he began to slowly rise, grabbing my shoulder with such force that I almost screamed in pain. His feet sank to the floor as hard as decks. And his ardent speech did not match the barely audible voice at all.

After he sat down on the bed, he could not utter a word for a long time, but finally he said:

- This doctor finished me off ... He sings in my ears. Help me to lie down ...

But before I stretched out my hand to him, he fell back into bed and lay for a while in silence.

“Jim,” he said finally, “did you see that sailor today?

- Black Dog? I asked.

“Yes, Black Dog,” he said. “He's a very bad man, but those who sent him are even worse than him. Listen: if I can't get out of here and they send me a black mark, know that they are after my chest. Then get on a horse ... - after all, you ride, don't you? - then get on your horse and gallop with all your might ... Now I don't care ... Ride at least to this damned doctor, to the rat, and tell him to whistle all the sailors on deck - all the juries and judges there - and cover my guests on aboard the Admiral Benbow, the whole gang of old Flint, every one of them, how many were still alive. I was the first navigator ... yes, the first navigator of old Flint, and I alone know where that place is. He himself gave me everything in Savannah when he lay dying, this is how I lie now. See? But don't do anything until they send me a black mark or until you see the Black Dog or the sailor on one leg again. This one-legged Jim, watch out for the most.

- And what is this black mark, captain? I asked.

- It's kind of like a summons, buddy. When they send, I'll tell you. Just don't miss them, dear Jim, and I will split everything in half with you, I give you my word of honor ...

“No sailor has ever needed medicine as much as I have.

He soon fell into a heavy oblivion, and I left him alone.

I don’t know what I would have done if everything had gone well. Probably, I would have told the doctor about everything, for I was mortally afraid that the captain would regret his frankness and finish me off. But the circumstances were different. In the evening my poor father passed away suddenly and we forgot everything else. I was so consumed with our grief, our neighbors' visits, the funeral arrangements, and the work at the inn, that I had no time to think about the captain or be afraid of him.

The next morning he went downstairs as if nothing had happened. I ate at normal hours, but without any appetite and, I'm afraid, drank more than usual, because I myself was treating myself at the counter. At the same time, he snorted and sniffled so angrily that no one dared to forbid him to drink too much. On the evening before the funeral, he was drunk as usual. It was disgusting to hear his unbridled, wild song in our sad home. And although he was very weak, we were scared to death of him. The only person who could shut his throat, the doctor, was far away: he was called several miles away to a patient, and after the death of his father he never showed himself near our house.

I said the captain was weak. Indeed, he not only did not recover, but seemed to be getting weaker and weaker. By force he climbed the stairs; staggered, hobbled from the hall to our counter. Sometimes he poked his nose out the door - to breathe in the sea, but at the same time grabbed the wall. He breathed hard and fast, like a man climbing a steep mountain.

He no longer spoke to me and, apparently, forgot about his recent frankness, but became even more hot-tempered, even more irritable, despite all his weakness. While drinking, he pulled out a dagger and put it on the table in front of him and at the same time hardly noticed people, immersed in his thoughts and delusional visions.

Once, to our great surprise, he even began to whistle some country love song, which he probably sang in his youth, before going to sea.

This was the state of affairs when the day after the funeral — the day was cloudy, foggy and frosty — at three in the afternoon, I went out the door and stopped at the threshold. I thought longingly about my father ...

Suddenly I noticed a man walking slowly along the road. Obviously, he was blind, because he groped the way in front of him with a stick. A green visor hung over his eyes and nose. Hunched over by old age or illness, he was all wrapped up in a shabby, tattered sailor's cloak with a hood, which made him even uglier. Never in my life have I seen such a terrible person. He stopped not far from the inn and chanted loudly in a strange nasal voice, addressing the empty space:

“Would some benefactor tell the poor blind man who lost his precious sight during the brave defense of his homeland, England, God bless King George, where he is now?

“You are near the Admiral Benbow Inn, in the bay of Black Hill, good man,” I said.

I held out my hand to him, and this horrible, eyeless creature with such a sugary voice grabbed it like ticks.

I was so scared that I wanted to run away. But the blind man pulled me to him.

“Now, boy,” he said, “take me to the captain.

- Sir, - I said, - I honestly don't dare ...

- Don't you dare? He chuckled. - Oh, that's how! Don't you dare! Lead me now, or I'll break your arm!

And he turned my hand so that I screamed.

“Sir,” I said, “I was afraid not for myself, but for you. The captain is different now. He sits with a naked dagger. One gentleman has already come to him and ...

- Quickly, march! He interrupted me.

Never before have I heard such a ferocious, cold and vile voice. This voice scared me more than the pain. I realized that I had to obey, and led him into the hall where our sick pirate was sitting, intoxicated with rum.

The blind man grabbed me with iron fingers. He crushed me with all his weight, and I could barely keep my feet.

- Lead me straight to him and when he sees me, shout: "Here is your friend, Billy." If you don’t shout, I’ll do this!

And he twisted my arm so that I almost fainted. I was so afraid of the blind beggar that I forgot my horror at the captain and, opening the door of the hall, with a trembling voice shouted the words that the blind man had told me to shout.

The poor captain looked up and sober up at once. His face expressed not fear, but rather mortal anguish. He tried to get up, but he apparently did not have enough strength.

“Nothing, Billy, stay where you are,” said the beggar. “I can't see you, but I can hear your fingers trembling. Business is business. Reach out your right hand ... Boy, take his hand and bring it to my right hand.

We both obeyed him. And I saw him transfer something from his hand, in which he was holding a stick, into the captain's palm, which immediately clenched into a fist.

“It's done,” said the blind man.

At these words he dismissed me and, with an unexpected agility in a cripple, jumped out of the common room onto the road. I still stood motionless, listening to the receding sound of his stick.

It took quite a long time before the captain and I came to our senses. I let go of his wrist, and he pulled his hand towards him and looked at his palm.

- At ten o'clock! He exclaimed. “There are six hours left. We'll show them some more!

And he jumped to his feet, but immediately swayed and grabbed his throat. So he stood, staggering, for a few moments, then with some strange sound he crashed to the floor with all his weight.

I immediately rushed to him and called my mother. But it was too late. The captain died suddenly of a stroke. And it’s strange: I really never liked this man, although lately I began to feel sorry for him, but when I saw him dead, I began to cry. I cried for a long time, I was dripping with tears. It was the second death that happened before my eyes, and the grief inflicted on me first was still too fresh in my heart.

Chapter 4

MATROSS CHEST

I, of course, immediately told my mother everything I knew. Maybe I should have told her about this earlier. We found ourselves in a difficult, dangerous situation.

Some of the money left over by the captain - if only he had money - should certainly have belonged to us. But it is unlikely that his comrades, like the Black Dog and the blind beggar, would agree to give up their booty to pay off the debts of the deceased. I could not fulfill the captain's order to mount a horse and gallop after Doctor Livesey: it was impossible to leave my mother alone, without any protection. There was nothing to think about. But we did not dare to stay at home any longer: we shuddered even when the coals in our hearth fell on the iron grate; we were even afraid of the ticking of the clock. Everywhere we heard someone's footsteps, as if someone was approaching us.

My hair stood on end at the thought of a dead body lying on the floor, and that somewhere nearby was a loathsome blind beggar who might be about to return. There was no time to hesitate. Something had to be done. And we decided to go together to a nearby village for help. No sooner said than done. With bare heads, we rushed to run through the frosty fog. It was already getting dark.

The village was not visible from us, but it was not far, a few hundred yards from us, on the opposite bank of the neighboring bay. I was very encouraged by the realization that the blind beggar had appeared from the other side and had gone, presumably, there. We did not walk long, although sometimes we stopped to listen. But the usual sounds were heard all around: the surf buzzed and crows croaked in the forest.

Candles have already been lit in the village, and I will never forget how their yellowish glow in the doors and windows soothed us. But that was all the help we received. Not one of the villagers, to their shame, agreed to come with us to the Admiral Benbow.

The more we talked about our worries, the more we clung to our corners. The name of Captain Flint, until then unknown to me, was well known to many of them and terrified them. Some recalled that once, while working in a field near the Admiral Benbow, they saw some suspicious people on the road. The strangers seemed to them to be smugglers, and they hurried home to close their doors tightly. Someone even saw a small lugger in a cove called Kitt's Lair. Therefore, the mere mention of the captain's friends made them in awe. There were daredevils who agreed to go after Dr. Livesey, who lived in the other side, but no one wanted to take part in guarding the inn.

They say cowardice is contagious. But reasonable arguments, on the contrary, can instill courage in a person. When everyone refused to go with us, the mother said that she was not going to lose the money that belonged to her orphaned son.

“You can be as timid as you like,” she said. “Jim and I are not a cowardly ten. We will return the same way we came. Little honor to you, stalwart and broad-shouldered men with such chicken souls! We will open the chest, even if we had to die because of it ... I will be very grateful, Mrs. Crossley, if you would allow me to take your bag to put money that belongs to us by law.

Of course, I said that I would go with my mother, and, of course, everyone yelled that this was madness. However, none, not even men, volunteered to accompany us. Their help was limited to the fact that they gave me a loaded pistol in case of an attack and promised to keep saddled horses ready so that we could escape if the robbers chased us. And one young man galloped to the doctor for armed reinforcements.

My heart pounded as we set out on our dangerous journey. The evening was cold. The full moon was rising. She had already risen above the horizon and blushed in the fog, shining brighter with every minute. We realized that soon it would be daylight, and it would be easy to spot us on the way back. Therefore, we rushed even more. We crept along the fences, noiselessly and quickly, and, not encountering anything terrible on the road, finally reached the Admiral Benbow.

Entering the house, I immediately bolted the door. Breathing heavily, we stood in the dark, alone in an empty house where a dead body lay. Then my mother brought a candle from the bar and, holding hands, we entered the common room. The captain was lying in the same position as we had left him - on his back, with open eyes, with one arm thrown back.

“Draw the curtains down, Jim,” her mother whispered. - They can follow us through the window ... And now, - she said, when I pulled down the curtains, - we need to find the key to the chest ... But I would like to know who will dare to touch him ...

And she even sobbed a little at these words.

I knelt down. On the floor, near the captain's hand, lay a tiny paper circle, smeared with something black on one side. I had no doubt that this was the black mark. I grabbed it and noticed that on the other side of it was written in a beautiful, clear handwriting: "We will give you until ten in the evening."

“He had a term of up to ten, Mom,” I said.

And at the same instant, our old clock began to strike. This sudden sound made us flinch violently. But he also made us happy, since it was only six o'clock.

“Well, Jim,” said the mother, “look for the key.

I searched the captain's pockets one by one. A few small coins, a thimble, threads and a thick needle, a piece of rolled tobacco, bitten from the edge, a knife with a crooked handle, a pocket compass, a flint - that's all I found there. I already began to despair ...

- Maybe on the neck? - said the mother.

Overcoming my disgust, I tore the collar of his shirt. And indeed, on a tarred rope, which I immediately cut with the captain's own knife, hung a key.

This good fortune filled our hearts with hope, and we hurried upstairs to that cramped room where the captain had lived for so long and where his chest had stood since the day of his arrival.

Outside, it was the most ordinary sailor's chest. The letter "B" was visible on the lid, burned out with a hot iron. The corners were frayed and knocked down, as if this chest had served a long and difficult service.

“Give me the key,” said the mother.

The lock gave in tightly, but she managed to open it, and in an instant she threw back the lid.

We smelled of the strong smell of tobacco and tar. First of all, we saw a new suit, carefully cleaned and ironed, very good and, according to the mother, never put on. Pulling up the suit, we found a bunch of various objects: a quadrant, a tin mug, a few pieces of tobacco, two pairs of elegant pistols, an ingot of silver, an old Spanish watch, a few trinkets, not very valuable, but mostly made abroad, two copper-rimmed compasses and five or six fancy West Indian shells. Subsequently, I often wondered why the captain, who lived such a restless, dangerous, criminal life, carried these shells with him.

But we didn’t find anything of value except a bar of silver and trinkets, and we didn’t need it. At the very bottom lay an old boat cloak, white with salt water near many of the coastal shoals. Mother threw it back impatiently, and we saw the last things lying in the chest: a bag wrapped in oilcloth, like a bundle of papers, and a canvas bag, in which, judging by the ringing, there was gold.

“I will show these robbers that I am an honest woman,” said the mother. “I’ll only take what he owed me, and no more farthing.” Keep Mrs. Crossley's bag!

And she began to count the money, transferring it from the bag to the bag that I was holding. It was difficult and time-consuming. Here were collected and mixed coins of a wide variety of minting and countries: doubloons, louis, guineas, piastres, and some others unknown to me. Guineas were the least of all, and my mother could only count guineas.

When she had already counted half of what the captain owed us, I suddenly grabbed her hand. In the quiet, frosty air, there was a sound that made my blood frozen in my veins: the tapping of a blind man's stick on the frozen road. The knock was approaching, and we listened to it with bated breath. Then there was a loud bang on the door of the inn, after which the door handle moved and the bolt clanged - the beggar tried to enter. There was silence inside and outside. Finally, the tapping of the stick was heard again. To our indescribable joy, it was now receding and soon died away.

- Mom, - I said, - take everything and we run quickly.

I was convinced that the bolted door seemed suspicious to the blind man, and I was afraid that he would bring his whole swarm of hornets here.

And yet how good it was that I thought to bolt the door! This could only be understood by those who knew this terrible blind man.

But the mother, in spite of all her fear, did not agree to take a single coin more than she should, and at the same time stubbornly did not want to take less. She said that it was not yet seven o'clock, that we had a lot of time. She knows her rights and will not surrender them to anyone. She argued stubbornly with me until we suddenly heard a long, quiet whistle that sounded somewhere in the distance, on a hill.

We immediately stopped bickering.

- And I'll grab this for even counting, - I said, picking up a sheaf of papers wrapped in oilcloth.

In a minute we were already groping downstairs. The candle was left by the empty chest. I opened the door and we went out onto the road. There was not a minute to lose. The fog quickly cleared away. The moon dazzled the hills. Only in the depths of the hollow and at the door of the inn was a wavering curtain of misty haze, as if to hide our first steps. But already halfway down the road, a little higher, at the foot of the hill, we had to inevitably get into a strip of moonlight.

And that was not all - in the distance we heard someone's quick steps.

We turned around and saw a light leaping and approaching: someone was carrying a lantern.

- Honey, - suddenly said the mother, - take the money and run. I feel like I'm about to faint ...

We were both killed, I decided. How I cursed the cowardice of our neighbors! How angry I was at my poor mother, and for her honesty, and for her greed, for her past courage and her present weakness!

Fortunately, we passed near some kind of bridge. I helped her - she staggered - to go down to the shore. She sighed and leaned on my shoulder. I don’t know where my strength came from, but I dragged her along the coast and dragged her under the bridge. I'm only afraid it was done rather crudely. The bridge was low, and it was only possible to move under it on all fours. I crawled further, under the arch, and my mother remained almost all in sight. It was a few steps from the inn.

CHAPTER 5

THE END OF THE BLIND

It turned out that my curiosity was stronger than my fear. I could not sit still. I cautiously climbed into the hollow and hid behind a broom bush. From here I clearly saw the road in front of the door of the inn.

As soon as I took up my observation post, the enemies appeared. There were seven or eight of them. They approached quickly, their boots clattering loudly and indiscriminately. The man with the lantern ran ahead of everyone. Three followed him, holding hands. Despite the fog, I could see that the middle one in this "trio" was a blind beggar. Then I heard his voice and was convinced that I was right.

- To hell with the door! He shouted.

- Yes, sir! - responded two or three.

And they charged at the door of the Admiral Benbow; a man with a lantern walked behind. At the very door they stopped and began to confer in a whisper. Obviously, they were amazed that the door was not locked. Then again the orders of the blind man were heard. His impatient, ferocious voice grew louder and shrill.

- Into the house! Into the house! He shouted, cursing his comrades for their slowness.

Four or five entered the house, two remained on the road with the terrible beggar. Then, after a few minutes of silence, there was a cry of surprise and a voice screamed from within:

- Billy is dead!

But the blind man again scolded them for digging around like that.

- Search him, vile bums! The rest are upstairs, behind the chest! He ordered.

They banged their shoes on the dilapidated steps, and the whole house trembled with their footfall. Then the surprised voices rang out again. The window in the captain's room was thrown wide open, and shards of broken glass rained down with a clang. A man leaned out of the window. His head and shoulders were clearly visible in the moonlight. He shouted to the blind beggar standing below on the road:

- Hey, Pew, they've already been here before us! .. Someone rummaged through the entire chest from top to bottom!

- And then on the spot? Pugh bellowed.

- The money is here.

- To hell with money! Cried the blind man. “I'm talking about Flint's papers.

- Papers are not to be seen, - said the man.

- Hey you, down there, look if they are on the body! The blind man shouted again.

Another robber - probably one of those who remained below to search the captain's corpse - appeared at the door of the inn.

“They managed to ransack him before us,” he said. - We were not left with anything.

- We were robbed by the local people. That puppy! - shouted Pugh. - It is a pity that I did not gouge out his eyes ... These people were here quite recently. When I wanted to enter, the door was bolted. Look for them guys! Search in all corners ...

- Yes, they were here. They left a burning candle, ”said the man in the window.

- Look! Search! Search the whole house! - repeated Pugh, banging with a stick.

And so a terrible mess began in our old tavern. Heavy footsteps rang out everywhere. Fragments of broken furniture rained down, doors above and below slammed, so that even the surrounding rocks picked up this mad rumble. But all in vain: people one by one went out onto the road and reported that they had not found us anywhere.

At that moment, in the distance, the same whistle sounded again, which so frightened my mother and me when we counted the coins of the deceased. This time it sounded twice. Before I thought that with this whistle a blind man was calling his comrades to storm. But now I noticed that the whistle was heard from the side of the hill facing the village, and I guessed that this was a signal warning the bandits of danger.

“This is Derk,” one said. - Hear: he whistles twice. We must run, guys.

- Run ?! - shouted Pugh. - Oh, you fools! Derk has always been a fool and a coward. Don't listen to Dirk. They are around here somewhere. They couldn't run far. You must find them. Look, dogs! Search! Search in all the nooks and crannies! Oh devil! He exclaimed. - Have my eyes!

This shout somewhat encouraged the robbers. Two of them began to prowl between the trees in the grove, but reluctantly, barely moving. They seemed to me to think more about escape than about seeking. The rest stood in confusion in the middle of the road.

- We have thousands in our hands, and you mumble like idiots! If you find this paper, you will be richer than the king! This paper is here, just a stone's throw away, and you shirk and try to get away! There was not a single daredevil among you who would dare to go to Billy and give him a black mark. I did it, blind! And because of you I am now losing my happiness! I have to grovel in poverty and beg for a penny for a glass when I could drive around in carriages!

“But we have doubloons,” one grumbled.

“They must have hidden the paper,” added another. - Take the money, Pew, and stop raving.

Pew really was kind of mad. The last objections of the robbers finally infuriated him. In a fit of violent anger, he raised his stick and, throwing himself blindly at his comrades, began to reward them with blows.

Those, in turn, responded to the villain with curses, accompanying them with terrible threats. They tried to grab the stick and pull it out of his hands.

This quarrel was a salvation for us.

While they were fighting and quarreling, from the hills, from the direction of the village, came the sound of galloping horses. Almost at the same instant, somewhere behind the hedge, a light flashed and a pistol shot rang out. This was the last signal. It meant that danger was near. The robbers rushed in different directions - some to the sea, along the coast of the bay, others up the slope of the hill. Half a minute later, only Pew was left on the road. They left him alone - maybe they forgot about him in panic, or maybe on purpose in revenge for the abuse and beatings. Left alone, he was furiously banging on the road with a stick and, stretching out his arms, called out to his comrades, but finally lost his way and, instead of rushing to the sea, ran towards the village.

He rushed a few paces away from me, saying in a crying voice:

- Johnny, Black Dog, Darc ... - He mentioned other names. - After all, you will not throw old Pew, dear comrades, because you will not leave old Pew!

Meanwhile, the pounding of horses approached. Already five or six riders could be discerned, illuminated by the moon. They raced at full speed down the hillside.

Then the blind man realized that he was going in the wrong place. With a cry, he turned and ran straight to the roadside ditch, into which he was quick to slide. But immediately he got up and, maddened, scrambled back onto the road, just under the feet of the horse, galloping in front of everyone.

The horseman wanted to save him, but it was too late. The desperate cry of the blind man seemed to rip apart the darkness of the night. The horse's four hooves crumpled and crushed him. He fell on his side, slowly rolled over on his back, and no longer moved.

I jumped to my feet and called out to the riders. They stopped, terrified of the misfortune that had occurred. I recognized them at once. The one galloping behind everyone was the same teenager who volunteered to drive from the village for Dr. Livesey. The rest turned out to be the customs guards he met along the way. He was smart enough to call them for help. Rumors of some lugger in Kitt's Lair had reached the customs officer, Mr. Dance, before. The road to Kitt's Lair passed our inn, and Danse rode there at once, accompanied by his party. Thanks to this happy accident, my mother and I were saved from certain death.

Pugh was killed on the spot. We took my mother to the village. There they gave her a smell of aromatic salt, sprayed her with cold water, and she woke up. Despite all the fears she had endured, she did not stop complaining that she did not have time to take from the captain's money the entire amount that was rightfully due to her.

Meanwhile, Customs Officer Dance rode with his squadron to Kitt's Lair. But the guards dismounted and carefully descended the slope, leading the horses by the bridle, or even supporting them, and constantly fearing an ambush. And, naturally, by the time they finally reached the bay, the ship had already managed to raise the anchor, although it was still not far from the coast. Danse called out to him. A voice came in response, advising him to avoid moonlit areas unless he wanted a good dose of lead. And immediately a bullet whizzed past his shoulder.

Soon the ship rounded the cape and disappeared.

Mr. Dance, in his own words, felt, standing on the shore, like "a fish thrown out of the water." He immediately sent a man to B ... to send a cutter to the sea.

“But it's all in vain,” he said. “They ran away, and you can't catch them. I’m glad, too, ”he added,“ that I stepped on Mr. Pew's corn.

I already had time to tell him about the blind man.

I returned with him to the Admiral Benbow. It is difficult to convey what kind of defeat there was. The bandits, looking for my mother and me, even tore off the clock from the wall. And although they took nothing with them, except for the money bag that belonged to the captain, and a few silver coins from our box office, it immediately became clear to me that we were ruined.

For a long time Mr. Dance could not understand anything.

- You say they took the money? Explain to me, Hawkins, what else did they want? Were they looking for any other money?

“No, sir, not money,” I replied. “What they were looking for is here in my side pocket. To tell you the truth, I would like to put this thing in a safer place.

“That's right, boy, that's right,” he said. - Give it to me if you want.

“I was thinking of giving it to Dr. Livesey…” I began.

- Right! - He interrupted me eagerly. - Right. Dr. Livesey is a gentleman and a judge. Perhaps I myself should have gone to see him or the squire and reported what had happened. After all, after all, Pugh is dead. I don’t regret it at all, but there may be people who will place the blame on me, the royal customs officer. You know what, Hawkins? Come with me. I'll take you with me if you want.

I thanked him and we went to the village where the horses were standing. While I was saying goodbye to my mother, everyone was already in the saddle.

“Dogger,” said Mr Dance, “you have a good horse. Sit this fellow behind you.

As soon as I sat down behind Dogger and took hold of his belt, the overseer ordered to get under way, and the detachment rode at a brisk trot along the road to Dr. Livesey's house.

CHAPTER 6

CAPTAIN'S PAPERS

We rushed at full speed and finally stopped at the house of Dr. Livesey. The entire façade was plunged into darkness.

Mr. Dance told me to jump off my horse and knock. Dogger put up a stirrup to make it easier for me to get off. A servant came out to knock.

- Is Dr. Livesey at home? I asked.

“No,” she replied. “He returned home in the afternoon, and has now gone to the estate to dine and spend the evening with the squire.

“Then we're going there,” said Mr. Dance.

It was not far to the estate. I didn't even get into the saddle, but ran next to the horse, holding onto Dogger's stirrup.

The park gates flashed. A long, leafless, moonlit alley led to a far-off white-washed manor house, surrounded by a spacious old garden. Mr. Dance jumped off his horse and led me into the house. We were immediately admitted there.

A servant led us down a long, carpeted corridor to the master's office. The cabinet walls were lined with bookcases. There was a bust on every closet. The squire and Dr. Livesey sat by the bright fire and smoked.

I've never seen a squire this close. He was a tall man, more than six feet tall, stout, with a thick, stern face that had been hardened and weather-beaten during the long wanderings. He had black movable eyebrows that betrayed not evil, but haughty and irascible disposition.

“Come in, Mr. Dance,” he said arrogantly and condescendingly. - Good evening!

“Good evening, Dance,” the doctor said and nodded his head. - Good evening, friend Jim. What tailwind brought you here?

The customs officer straightened up, hands at his seams, and recounted all our adventures like a learned lesson. You should have seen how meaningfully these two gentlemen exchanged glances during his story! They listened with such curiosity that they even stopped smoking. And when they heard my mother go back to our house at night, Dr. Livesey slapped himself on the thigh, and the squire shouted "bravo" and smashed his long pipe on the grate of the fireplace. Mr. Trelawney (so, if you remember, the squire was called) had long ago left his chair and paced the room, and the doctor, as if to hear better, pulled off his powdered wig from his head. It was strange to see him without a wig, with short black hair.

Finally Mr. Dance finished his story.

Dance, said the squire, you are a noble man! And having finished off one of the bloodthirsty villains, you have done a valiant deed. Such should be crushed like cockroaches! .. Hawkins, I see, is also not a small miss. Ring that bell, Hawkins. Mr. Dance needs a beer.

“So, Jim,” the doctor said, “is what they were looking for is here with you?”

“This is it,” I said, and handed him the bag wrapped in oilcloth.

The doctor examined the package from all sides. Apparently he was impatient to open it. But he overpowered himself and calmly put the package in his pocket.

“Squire,” he said, “when Dance drinks his beer, he will have to return to his official duties. And Jim Hawkins will be spending the night with me. If you will allow me, I will now ask you to serve him a cold pâté for supper.

- Still, do mercy, Livesey! - said the squire. “Hawkins deserves a little more today.

A large portion of pigeon pate was placed in front of me on one of the small tables. I was hungry like a wolf, and I dined with great pleasure. In the meantime, Danse, having heard a lot of new praise, withdrew.

“Well, squire,” said the doctor.

“Well, doctor,” said the squire.

- In one word! Dr. Livesey laughed. "I hope you've heard of this Flint?"

- Have I heard of Flint ?! Exclaimed the squire. “Are you asking if I’ve heard of Flint?” He was the most bloodthirsty pirate who ever sailed on the sea. Blackbeard in front of Flint baby. The Spaniards were so afraid of him that I confess to you, sir, I was sometimes proud that he was an Englishman. One day near Trinidad I saw in the distance the tops of his sails, but our captain got cold feet and immediately turned back, sir, to Port of Spain.

“I've heard of him here in England,” the doctor said. - But the question is: did he have money?

- Money! Cried the squire. “Didn't you hear what Danse was saying? What could these villains be looking for if not money? What do they need besides money? For what, besides money, would they risk their skin?

“We'll soon find out why they risked their hide,” the doctor replied. “You’re so excited that you don’t let me say a word. Here's what I would like to find out: suppose here, in my pocket, is a key that can be used to find out where Flint hid his treasures. Are these treasures great?

- Are they great, sir! Shouted the squire. - So listen! If only we really have in our hands the key of which you speak, I will immediately equip a suitable ship at the Bristol docks, take you and Hawkins with me and get food for this treasure, even if we had to search for it for a whole year!

“Excellent,” the doctor said. “In that case, if Jim agrees, let's open the package.

And he put the package in front of him on the table.

The package was tightly sewn with threads. The doctor took out his toolbox and cut the threads with surgical scissors. The package contained two things: a notebook and a sealed envelope.

- First of all, let's look at the notebook, - suggested the doctor.

He gently called me over to him, and I got up from the table at which I was having dinner to take part in solving the mystery. The doctor began leafing through the notebook. The squire and I looked curiously over his shoulder.

All kinds of scribbles were scrawled on the front page of the notebook. It seemed that they were taken out of nothing to do or to try the pen. By the way, there was also the inscription that the captain had tattooed on his arm: "May Billy Bones' dreams come true", and others of the same kind, for example: "Mr. W. Bones, navigator", "Enough rum", "Have Palm Key "he got everything that was due to him." There were other inscriptions, completely incomprehensible, consisted mostly of one word. I was very interested in who was the one who received, “what was due to him,” and what exactly was due to him. Perhaps a stab in the back?

“Well, there’s not much to get out of this page,” said Dr. Livesey.

The next ten or twelve pages were full of strange accounting entries. On one end of the line was the date, and on the other was the sum of money, as is usual in ledgers. But instead of any explanations, there was only a different number of crosses in between. On the twelfth of June 1745, for example, the sum of seventy pounds sterling was marked, but all the explanation of where it came from was replaced by six crosses. Occasionally, however, the name of the area was added, for example: "Against Caracas", or simply marked the latitude and longitude, for example: "62 ° 17'20", 19 ° 2'40 "".

The recordings have been going on for almost twenty years. The amounts charged became larger and larger. And at the very end, after five or six erroneous, crossed out calculations, the total was summed up, and at the bottom it was signed: "Bons share".

“I don’t understand anything,” said Dr. Livesey.

- Everything is clear as day! Exclaimed the squire. - Before us is the receipt book of this vile dog. The names of sunken ships and plundered cities are replaced with crosses. The numbers indicate the share of this murderer in the total loot. Where he feared inaccuracy, he inserted some explanations. Against Caracas, for example. This means that some unfortunate ship was robbed against Caracas. The poor sailors who sailed on it have long been rotting among the corals.

- Right! The doctor said. “This is what it means to be a traveler! Right! And his share grew as he rose in rank.

There was nothing else in this notebook, except for the names of some localities, written on blank sheets, and a table for converting English, Spanish and French money into current coins.

- Thrifty man! The doctor exclaimed. - You can't cheat him.

“Now,” said the squire, “let's see what's here.

The envelope was sealed in several places. The seal was a thimble I found in the captain's pocket. The doctor carefully broke the seals, and a map of some island, with latitude and longitude, with the designation of the depths of the sea near the coast, with the names of hills, bays and capes, fell on the table. In general, there was everything that might be needed to approach the unknown island and drop anchor without any risk.

The island was nine miles long and five miles wide. He looked like a fat dragon rearing up. We noticed two harbors, well sheltered from the storms, and a hill in the middle called the Spyglass.

There were many additions on the map later. The three crosses, made in red ink, were most striking - two in the northern part of the island and one in the southwestern part. Near this last cross, in the same red ink, in small, clear handwriting, not at all like the captain's scrawls, was written:

On the back of the card were explanations in the same handwriting. Here they are:

“A tall tree on the shoulder of a Spyglass, northward direction from S.-S.-W.

Skeleton Island V.-Y.-V. and V. Ten feet.

Silver ingots in the northern pit. You will find her on the slope of the eastern hill, ten fathoms south of the black rock, if you face her.

It is easy to find the weapon in a sandy hill on the north end of the North Cape, keep it on the east and a quarter point to the north.

And that's all. These notes seemed completely incomprehensible to me. But despite their brevity, they delighted the squire and Dr. Livesey.

“Livesey,” said the squire, “you must quit your pitiful practice at once. I'm going to Bristol tomorrow. In three weeks ... no, in two weeks ... no, in ten days we will have the best ship, sir, and the finest crew in all of England. Hawkins will go as a cabin boy ... You will make a fine cabin boy, Hawkins ... You, Livesey, are a ship's doctor. I am an admiral. We'll take Redruth, Joyce and Hunter with us. A favorable wind will quickly bring us to the island. Finding treasures there will not be difficult. We will have so many coins that we will have enough for food, we can swim in them, throw them ricochet into the water ...

“Trelawney,” said the doctor, “I'm going with you. I guarantee that Jim and I will live up to your trust. But there is one that I'm afraid to rely on.

- Who is he? Exclaimed the squire. - Name this dog, sir!

“You,” the doctor replied, “because you don’t know how to keep your mouth shut. We are not the only ones who know about these securities. The robbers who destroyed the inn tonight - as you see, a desperately brave people, and those robbers who remained on the ship - and besides them, I dare say, there are somewhere else nearby - will, of course, do everything possible to take possession of treasures. We must not show ourselves anywhere alone until we leave the coast. I will stay here with Jim until we leave. Take Joyce and Hunter and travel to Bristol with them. And, most importantly, we should not say a word to anyone about our find.

“Livesey,” the squire replied, “you're always right. I will be as dumb as the grave.

PART TWO

Ship chef

Chapter 7

I'M GOING TO BRISTOL

It took much longer to get ready for the voyage than the squire imagined. Anyway, all our initial plans had to be changed. First of all, Dr. Livesey's desire not to be separated from me did not come true: he had to go to London to look for a doctor who would replace him in our area during his absence. The squire had a lot of work to do in Bristol. And I lived in the estate under the supervision of the old huntsman Redruth, almost like a prisoner, dreaming of unknown islands and sea adventures. I spent many hours over the map and learned it by heart. Sitting by the fire in the housekeeper's room, in my dreams, I swam to the island from different sides. I explored every inch of it, climbed a high hill called the Spyglass thousands of times, and admired from there an amazing, constantly changing view. Sometimes the island was teeming with savages, and we had to fend off them. Sometimes it was inhabited by beasts of prey, and we had to run away from them. But all these imaginary adventures turned out to be trifles in comparison with the strange and tragic adventures that actually happened.

Week after week. Finally one day we received a letter. It was addressed to Dr. Livesey, but the envelope bore a note:

"If Dr. Livesey has not yet returned, open the letter to Tom Redruth or young Hawkins."

Having ripped open the envelope, we read - or rather, I read, because the huntsman could only read block letters - the following important messages:

Dear Livesey!

I don’t know where you are, at the manor or still in London - I am writing here and there at the same time.

The ship is purchased and equipped. He is at anchor, ready to go to sea. It is impossible to imagine anything better than our schooner. It can be controlled by an infant. Displacement - two hundred tons. The name is "Hispaniola".

My old friend Blendley, who turned out to be an amazingly clever businessman, helped me to get it. This sweet man worked like a black man for me. However, everyone in Bristol tried to help me, it was only necessary to hint that we were going after our treasure ... "

“Redrut,” I said, interrupting my reading, “Dr. Livesey won't like this at all. So the squire was chatting after all ...

- And who is more important: the squire or the doctor? - the huntsman grumbled. “Does the squire have to be silent to please some Doctor Livesey?”

“Blendley found the Hispaniola himself, and thanks to his dexterity, we got it literally for a pittance. True, there are people in Bristol who hate Blendley. They have the audacity to assert that this most honest man is busy only for the sake of profit, that the Hispaniola belongs to him and that he sold it to me at exorbitant prices. This is undoubtedly slander. However, no one dares to deny that the Hispaniola is a beautiful vessel.

So, I got the ship without difficulty. True, the workers equip it very slowly, but in time everything will be ready. I had to tinker a lot more with the selection of the team.

I wanted to hire twenty people - in case of meeting savages, pirates or the damned French. I was already exhausted, and found only six, but then fate took mercy on me, and I met a man who immediately arranged the whole thing for me.

I accidentally got into a conversation with him at the port. It turned out that he was an old sailor. Lives on land and runs a tavern. Familiar with all the sailors in Bristol. Life on land has upset his health, he wants to go to sea again and is looking for a job as a ship's cook. That morning, he said, he went to port only to breathe in the salty sea air.

End of free trial snippet.

* PART ONE. OLD PIRATE *

1. OLD SEA WOLF IN THE ADMIRAL BENBOU TAVERN

Squire [title of nobility in England] Trelawney, Dr. Livesey and others
the gentlemen have asked me to write everything I know about Treasure Island.
They want me to tell the whole story, from the beginning to the end, not
hiding any details other than the geographical location of the island.
It is currently impossible to indicate where this island lies, so
as now there are treasures that we did not take out. And now in
this year, 17 ..., I take up my pen and mentally return to that
time when my father had an inn "Admiral Benbow" [Benbow -
English admiral, who lived at the end of the 17th century] and settled in this tavern
an old tanned sailor with a saber scar on his cheek.
I remember, as if it were yesterday, how, stepping heavily, he dragged himself to
our doors, and his sea chest was driven behind him in a wheelbarrow. It was tall
a strong, overweight man with a dark face. A tarred pigtail stuck out over
the collar of his greasy blue caftan. His hands were rough, in
some scars, black nails, broken, and a saber scar on the cheek -
off-white in color, with a tint of lead. I remember as a stranger
whistling, looked around our bay and suddenly
the song that I sang so often afterwards:

Fifteen people per dead man's chest.
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!

His voice was an old man's, rattling, shrill, like a creaky
punching [lever of the spire (gate, which serves to raise the anchor)].
And he had a stick like a ganspug [a lever for lifting weights]. He
knocked this stick on our door and when my father came out on the threshold, rudely
demanded a glass of rum.
Rum was served to him, and with the air of a connoisseur he began to slowly savor
every sip. He drank and looked now at the rocks, now at the inn sign.
“The bay is comfortable,” he said at last. - Not a bad place for a tavern.
A lot of people, buddy?
The father replied that no, unfortunately, very little.
- Well then! - said the sailor. - This one ... just right for me ... Hey,
Buddy! he shouted to the man who was driving the wheelbarrow after him. -
Come here and help me get the chest ... I will live here a little, -
he continued. - I'm a simple person. Rum, pork belly and scrambled eggs - that's it
All I need. Yes, there is that cape from which the ships passing by
by sea ... What should you call me? Well, call me captain ... Hey, I
see what you want! Here!
And he threw three or four gold coins on the threshold.
“When these are over, you can come and say,” he said sternly.
and looked at his father like a boss.