the case were. And, seein' as how
you are about to take a pipe, cap'n, I'll make so free as do likewise."

And he filled a pipe and lighted it; and the two men sat silently
smoking for quite a while, now looking each other in the face, now
stopping their tobacco, now leaning forward to spit. It was as good as
the play to see them.

"Now," resumed Silver, "here it is. You give us the chart to get the
treasure by, and drop shooting poor seamen, and stoving of their heads
in while asleep. You do that and we'll offer you a choice. Either you
come aboard along of us, once the treasure shipped, and then I'll give
you my affy-davy, upon my word of honor, to clap you somewhere safe
ashore. Or, if that ain't to your fancy, some of my hands being rough,
and having old scores, on account of hazing, then you can stay here, you
can. We'll divide stores with you, man for man; and I'll give my
affy-davy, as before, to speak the first ship I sight, and send 'em here
to pick you up. Now you'll own that's talking. Handsomer you couldn't
look to get, not you. And I hope"--raising his voice--"that all hands in
this here blockhouse will overhaul my words, for what is spoke to one is
spoke to all."

Captain Smollett rose from his seat and knocked out the ashes of his
pipe in the palm of his left hand.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Every last word, by thunder!" answered John. "Refuse that and you've
seen the last of me but musket-balls."

"Very good," said the captain. "Now you'll hear me. If you'll come up
one by one, unarmed, I'll engage to clap you all in irons, and to take
you home to a fair trial in England. If you won't, my name is Alexander
Smollett, I've flown my sovereign's colors, and I'll see you all to Davy
Jones. You can't find the treasure. You can't sail the ship--there's not
a man among you fit to sail the ship. You can't fight us--Gray, there,
got away from five of you. Your ship's in irons, Master Silver; you're
on a lee shore, and so you'll find. I stand here and tell you so, and
they're the last good words you'll get from me; for, in the name of
heaven, I'll put a bullet in your back when next I meet you. Tramp, my
lad. Bundle out of this, please, hand over hand, and double quick."

Silver's face was a picture; his eyes started in his head with wrath. He
shook the fire out of his pipe.

"Give me a hand up!" he cried.

"Not I," returned the captain.

"Who'll give me a hand up?" he roared.

Not a man among us mo