he horrid
disappointment he had prepared for the mutineers, he had run all the way
to the cave, and leaving the squire to guard the captain, had taken Gray
and the maroon and started, making the diagonal across the island to be
at hand beside the pine. Soon, however, he saw that our party had the
start of him; and Ben Gunn, being fleet of foot, had been dispatched in
front to do his best alone. Then it had occurred to him to work upon the
superstitions of his former shipmates, and he was so far successful that
Gray and the doctor had come up and were already ambushed before the
arrival of the treasure-hunters.

"Ah," said Silver, "it were fortunate for me that I had Hawkins here.
You would have let old John be cut to bits, and never given it a
thought, doctor."

"Not a thought," replied Dr. Livesey cheerily.

And by this time we had reached the gigs. The doctor, with the pick-axe,
demolished one of them, and then we all got aboard the other and set out
to go round by sea for North Inlet.

This was a run of eight or nine miles. Silver, though he was almost
killed already with fatigue, was set to an oar, like the rest of us, and
we were soon skimming swiftly over a smooth sea. Soon we passed out
of the straits and doubled the south-east corner of the island, round
which, four days ago, we had towed the HISPANIOLA.

As we passed the two-pointed hill, we could see the black mouth of Ben
Gunn's cave and a figure standing by it, leaning on a musket. It was the
squire, and we waved a handkerchief and gave him three cheers, in which
the voice of Silver joined as heartily as any.

Three miles farther, just inside the mouth of North Inlet, what should
we meet but the HISPANIOLA, cruising by herself? The last flood had
lifted her, and had there been much wind or a strong tide current, as
in the southern anchorage, we should never have found her more, or found
her stranded beyond help. As it was, there was little amiss beyond the
wreck of the main-sail. Another anchor was got ready and dropped in a
fathom and a half of water. We all pulled round again to Rum Cove,
the nearest point for Ben Gunn's treasure-house; and then Gray,
single-handed, returned with the gig to the HISPANIOLA, where he was to
pass the night on guard.

A gentle slope ran up from the beach to the entrance of the cave. At the
top, the squire met us. To me he was cordial and kind, saying nothing
of my escapade either in the way of blame or praise. At Silve