d like an apple. I ran on
deck. The watch was all forward looking out for the island. The man at
the helm was watching the luff of the sail and whistling away gently to
himself, and that was the only sound excepting the swish of the sea
against the bows and around the sides of the ship.

In I got bodily into the apple barrel, and found there was scarce an
apple left; but, sitting down there in the dark, what with the sound of
the waters and the rocking movement of the ship, I had either fallen
asleep, or was on the point of doing so, when a heavy man sat down with
rather a clash close by. The barrel shook as he leaned his shoulders
against it, and I was just about to jump up when the man began to speak.
It was Silver's voice, and, before I had heard a dozen words, I would
not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trembling and
listening, in the extreme of fear and curiosity; for from these dozen
words I understood that the lives of all the honest men aboard depended
upon me alone.

CHAPTER XI

WHAT I HEARD IN THE APPLE BARREL

"No, not I," said Silver. "Flint was cap'n; I was quartermaster, along
of my timber leg. The same broadside I lost my leg, old Pew lost his
deadlights. It was a master surgeon, him that ampytated me--out of
college and all--Latin by the bucket, and what not; but he was hanged
like a dog, and sun-dried like the rest, at Corso Castle. That was
Roberts' men, that was, and comed of changing names to their
ships--_Royal Fortune_ and so on. Now, what a ship was christened, so
let her stay, I says. So it was with the _Cassandra_, as brought us all
safe home from Malabar, after England took the _Viceroy of the Indies_;
so it was with the old _Walrus_, Flint's old ship, as I've seen a-muck
with the red blood and fit to sink with gold."

"Ah!" cried another voice, that of the youngest hand on board, and
evidently full of admiration, "he was the flower of the flock, was
Flint!"

"Davis was a man, too, by all accounts," said Silver. "I never sailed
along of him; first with England, then with Flint, that's my story; and
now here on my own account, in a manner of speaking. I laid by nine
hundred safe, from England, and two thousand after Flint. That ain't bad
for a man before the mast--all safe in bank. 'Tain't earning now, it's
saving does it, you may lay to that. Where's all England's men now? I
dunno. Where's Flint's? Why, most of 'em aboard here, and glad to get
the duff--been