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Treasure Island
Chapter 5. The Last of the Blind Man
My curiosity, in a sense, was stronger than my fear, for I couldn't remain where I was, but crept back to the bank again.
From there, hiding my head behind a bush of broom, I could see the road before our door.
I was hardly in position when my enemies began to arrive.
Seven or eight of them came, running hard, their feet beating out of time along the road.
The man with the lantern was some steps in front.
Three men ran together, hand in hand.
Even through the mist, I could tell that the middle man of this group was the blind beggar.
The next moment his voice showed me that I was right.
"Down with the door!" he cried.
"Aye, aye, sir!" answered two or three.
Then they rushed at the Admiral Benbow, the lantern-bearer following.
Then I could see them pause and hear them speak in lower voices, as if they were surprised to find the door open.
But the pause was short, for the blind man gave his orders again.
His voice sounded louder and higher, as if he was burning with eagerness and rage.
"In, in, in!" he shouted, and cursed them for their delay.
Four or five of them obeyed at once.
Two remained on the road with the terrible beggar.
There was a pause, then a cry of surprise, and then a voice shouting from the house, "Bill's dead."
But the blind man swore at them again for their delay.
"Search him, some of you lazy fools, and the rest of you go upstairs and get the chest," he cried.
I could hear their feet rattling up our old stairs.
The house must have shook with it.
Right after that, fresh sounds of surprise came.
The window of the captain's room was thrown open with a slam and a jingle of broken glass.
A man leaned out into the moonlight, head and shoulders, and spoke to the blind beggar on the road below him.
"Pew," he cried, "they've been before us. Someone's turned the chest out from top to bottom."
"Is it there?" roared Pew.
"The money's there."
The blind man cursed the money and spat angrily on the road beside him.
"Flint's fist, I mean," he cried.
"We don't see it here nohow," replied the man.
"Here, you below there, is it on Bill?" cried the blind man again.
At that another fellow, probably the one who had stayed below to search the captain's body, came to the door of the inn.
"Bill's been searched already," he said.
"Nothing's left."
"It's these people of the inn. It's that boy. I wish I had put his eyes out!" cried the blind man, Pew.
"There was no time ago. They had the door bolted when I tried it. Scatter, lads, and find them."
"Sure enough, they left their light here," said the fellow from the window.
"Scatter and find them! Search the house out!" repeated Pew, striking with his stick upon the road.
Then there followed a great noise through all our old inn.
Heavy feet pounded back and forth, Furniture was thrown over.
Doors were kicked in, the very rocks echoed.
The men came out again, one after another, on the road and said that we were nowhere to be found.
That same whistle which had alarmed my mother and me over the dead captain's money was again heard through the night, repeated twice.
I had thought it was the blind man's signal, so to speak, calling his crew to attack.
I now found it was a signal from the hillside toward the village, warning the pirates of approaching danger.
"There's Dirk again," said one.
"Twice! We'll have to move, mates."
"Move, you cowards!" cried Pew.
"Dirk was a fool and a coward from the start."
"You wouldn't mind him."
"They must be close by."
"They can't be far."
"You have your hands on it."
"Scatter and look for them, dogs!"
"Oh, shiver my soul,"
He cried, "If I had eyes!" and stamped his stick on the ground in fury.
This appeal seemed to have some effect.
Two of the fellows began to look here and there among the junk.
But they did so half-heartedly, I thought.
They also kept half an eye on their own danger all the time.
The rest stood uncertain on the road.
"You have your hands on thousands, you fools, and you hang back!"
"You'd be as rich as kings if you could find it, and you know it's here, and you stand there hiding."
"There wasn't one of you dared face Bill, and I did it."
"A blind man!"
"And I'm to lose my chance for you!"
"I'm to be a poor, crawling beggar, begging for rum, when I might be riding in a coach!"
"If you had the courage of a weevil in a biscuit, you'd catch them still."
"Hang it, Pew, we've got the doubloons!" grumbled one.
"They might have hidden the blessed thing," said another.
"Take the Georges, Pew, and don't stand here yelling."
Yelling was the word for it, his voice rising into hoarse, furious cries.
Pew's anger rose so high at these objections that at last, his passion completely taking over, he struck at them right and left in his blindness.
His stick sounded heavily on more than one.
They, in their turn, cursed back at the blind villain.
They threatened him in terrible terms and tried in vain to catch the stick and take it from his hand.
This quarrel saved us, for while it was still raging, another sound came from the top of the hill on the side of the village.
It was the tramp of horses galloping.
Almost at the same time, a pistol shot, flash and report, came from the hedge side.
And that was clearly the last signal of danger, for the pirates turned at once and ran.
They separated in every direction, One went seaward along the cove.
One went slant across the hill, and so on, so that in half a minute not a sign of them remained but Pew.
They had left him, whether in sheer panic or out of revenge for his bad words and blows I don't know.
But there he remained behind, tapping up and down the road in a frenzy, groping and calling for his comrades.
Finally he took a wrong turn and ran a few steps past me, towards the village, crying, "Johnny, Black Dog, Dirk,"
And other names, "you won't leave old Pew, mates. Not old Pew!"
Just then the noise of horses topped the rise.
Four or five riders came in sight in the moonlight and swept at full gallop down the slope.
At this Pew saw his error, he turned with a scream and ran straight for the ditch, into which he rolled.
But he was on his feet again in a second and made another dash, now completely confused, right under the nearest of the coming horses.
The rider tried to save him, but in vain.
Down went Pew with a cry that rang high into the night.
The four hoofs trampled and kicked him and passed by.
He fell on his side, then gently collapsed onto his face and moved no more.
I leaped to my feet and called to the riders.
They were pulling up, at any rate, horrified at the accident.
I soon saw who they were, One, trailing behind the rest, was a lad who had gone from the village to Dr. Livesey's.
The rest were revenue officers, whom he had met on the way and with whom he had had the sense to return at once.
Some news of the boat in Kitt's Hole had found its way to Supervisor Dance and set him out that night in our direction.
Because of that, my mother and I owed our lives.
Pew was dead, stone dead, lying still in the moonlit road.
As for my mother, when we had carried her up to the village, a little cold water and salts soon brought her back again.
She was none the worse for her terror, though she still continued to complain about the loss of the money.
In the meantime, the supervisor rode on, as fast as he could, to Kitt's Hole.
But his men had to get off their horses and grope down the valley, leading and sometimes supporting their horses, and in constant fear of ambushes.
So it was no great surprise that when they got down to the Hole, the boat was already under way, though still close in.
He called to her, a voice replied, telling him to keep out of the moonlight or he'd get some lead in him.
At the same time, a bullet whistled close by his arm.
Soon after, the boat went around the point and disappeared.
Mr. Dance stood there, as he said, "like a fish out of water." All he could do was send a man to B, to warn the cutter.
"And that," he said, "is just about as good as nothing, they've got away clean, and that's the end."
"Only," he added, "I'm glad I trod on Master Pew's corns," and by this time he had heard my story.
I went back with him to the Admiral Benbow.
You can't imagine a house in such a state of ruin.
The very clock had been thrown down by these fellows in their furious hunt for my mother and myself.
Nothing had been taken except the captain's money-bag and a little silver from the till, so I saw we were ruined.
Mr. Dance couldn't make anything of the scene.
"They got the money, you say? Well, then, Hawkins, what in fortune were they after? More money, I suppose?"
"No, sir. Not money, I think," I replied.
"In fact, sir, I believe I have the thing in my breast pocket. And to tell you the truth, I'd like to get it put in safety."
"To be sure, boy. Quite right," he said.
"I'll take it, if you like."
"I thought perhaps Dr. Livesey," I began.
"Perfectly right," he interrupted very cheerily.
"Perfectly right," he interrupted very cheerily, "A gentleman and a magistrate."
"And now I come to think of it, I might as well ride around there myself and report to him or the squire."
"Master Pew's dead. I don't regret it, but people may blame an officer of his Majesty's revenue, so I'll tell you, Hawkins, I'll take you along".
I thanked him heartily for the offer, and we walked back to the village where the horses were.
By the time I had told mother of my plan, they were all in the saddle.
"Dogger," said Mr. Dance, "you have a good horse. Take up this lad behind you."
As soon as I was mounted, holding onto Dogger's belt, the supervisor gave the word.
The party set out at a bouncing trot on the road to Dr. Livesey's house.