ough, too, says you. Ah, but I've lived easy
in the meantime; never denied myself o' nothing heart desires, and slep'
soft and ate dainty all my days, but when at sea. And how did I begin?
Before the mast, like you!"

"Well," said the other, "but all the other money's gone now, ain't it?
You daren't show face in Bristol after this."

"Why, where might you suppose it was?" asked Silver derisively.

"At Bristol, in banks and places," answered his companion.

"It were," said the cook; "it were when we weighed anchor. But my old
missis has it all by now. And the 'Spy-glass' is sold, lease and goodwill
and rigging; and the old girl's off to meet me. I would tell you where,
for I trust you; but it 'ud make jealousy among the mates."

"And can you trust your missis?" asked the other.

"Gentlemen of fortune," returned the cook, "usually trusts little among
themselves, and right they are, you may lay to it. But I have a way with
me, I have. When a mate brings a slip on his cable--one as knows me, I
mean--it won't be in the same world with old John. There was some that
was feared of Pew, and some that was feared of Flint; but Flint his own
self was feared of me. Feared he was, and proud. They was the roughest
crew afloat, was Flint's; the devil himself would have been feared to go
to sea with them. Well, now, I tell you, I'm not a boasting man, and you
seen yourself how easy I keep company; but when I was quartermaster,
_lambs_ wasn't the word for Flint's old buccaneers. Ah, you may be sure
of yourself in old John's ship."

"Well, I tell you now," replied the lad, "I didn't half a quarter like
the job till I had this talk with you, John; but there's my hand on it
now."

"And a brave lad you were, and smart too," answered Silver, shaking hands
so heartily that all the barrel shook, "and a finer figurehead for a
gentleman of fortune I never clapped my eyes on."

By this time I had begun to understand the meaning of their terms. By a
"gentleman of fortune" they plainly meant neither more nor less than a
common pirate, and the little scene that I had overheard was the last act
in the corruption of one of the honest hands--perhaps of the last one
left aboard. But on this point I was soon to be relieved, for, Silver
giving a little whistle, a third man strolled up and sat down by the
party.

"Dick's square," said Silver.

"Oh, I know'd Dick was square," returned the voice of the coxswain,
Israel Hands. "He's no fool, is Di