'lection. I'm cap'n here because I'm the best man by a long sea-mile.
You won't fight, as gentlemen o' fortune should; then, by thunder, you'll
obey, and you may lay to it! I like that boy, now; I never seen a better
boy than that. He's more a man than any pair of rats of you in this here
house, and what I say is this: let me see him that'll lay a hand on
him--that's what I say, and you may lay to it."

There was a long pause after this. I stood straight up against the wall,
my heart still going like a sledge-hammer, but with a ray of hope now
shining in my bosom. Silver leant back against the wall, his arms
crossed, his pipe in the corner of his mouth, as calm as though he had
been in church; yet his eye kept wandering furtively, and he kept the
tail of it on his unruly followers. They, on their part, drew gradually
together towards the far end of the block-house, and the low hiss of
their whispering sounded in my ear continuously like a stream. One after
another they would look up, and the red light of the torch would fall for
a second on their nervous faces; but it was not towards me, it was
towards Silver that they turned their eyes.

"You seem to have a lot to say," remarked Silver, spitting far into the
air. "Pipe up and let me hear it, or lay-to."

"Ax your pardon, sir," returned one of the men, "you're pretty free with
some of the rules; maybe you'll kindly keep an eye upon the rest. This
crew's dissatisfied; this crew don't vally bullying a marlinspike; this
crew has its rights like other crews, I'll make so free as that; and by
your own rules I take it we can talk together. I ax your pardon, sir,
acknowledging you to be capting at this present; but I claim my right,
and steps outside for a council."

And with an elaborate sea-salute, this fellow, a long, ill-looking,
yellow-eyed man of five-and-thirty, stepped coolly towards the door and
disappeared out of the house. One after another, the rest followed his
example; each making a salute as he passed; each adding some apology.
"According to rules," said one. "Fo'c's'le council," said Morgan. And so
with one remark or another, all marched out, and left Silver and me alone
with the torch.

The sea-cook instantly removed his pipe.

"Now, look you here, Jim Hawkins," he said, in a steady whisper, that was
no more than audible, "you're within half a plank of death, and, what's a
long sight worse, of torture. They're going to throw me off. But, you
mark, I sta