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Treasure Island
Chapter 8. At the Sign of the Spy-glass
When I had finished breakfast, the squire gave me a note addressed to John Silver at the sign of the Spy-glass.
He told me I'd easily find the place by following the line of the docks.
He said to keep a sharp lookout for a small tavern with a large brass telescope as a sign.
I set off, overjoyed at this chance to see more ships and seamen.
I made my way through a huge crowd of people, carts, and bales, for the dock was now at its busiest, until I found the tavern.
It was a bright enough little place.
The sign was newly painted, the windows had neat red curtains, the floor was cleanly sanded.
A street ran on each side and doors on both, making the large low room easy to see despite tobacco smoke.
The customers were mostly seafaring men, and they talked so loudly that I hung at the door, almost afraid to enter.
As I was waiting, a man came out of a side room.
At a glance, I was sure he must be Long John.
His left leg was cut off close by the hip, and under his left shoulder he carried a crutch.
He managed it with wonderful skill, hopping about on it like a bird.
He was very tall and strong, with a face as big as a ham, plain and pale, but intelligent and smiling.
He seemed in cheerful spirits, whistling as he moved among tables, with merry words or slaps on the shoulder for his favorite guests.
From the very first mention of Long John in Squire Trelawney's letter, I had a fear.
He might be the one-legged sailor I watched for so long at the old Benbow.
But one look at the man before me was enough.
I had seen the captain, Black Dog, and the blind man, Pew.
I thought I knew what a buccaneer was like.
To my mind, he was very different from this clean and pleasant-tempered landlord.
I plucked up courage, crossed the doorway, and walked up to the man, propped on his crutch, talking to a customer.
"Mr. Silver, sir?" I asked, holding out the note.
"Yes, my lad," he said.
"That's my name, to be sure."
"And who might you be?" Then, as he saw the squire's letter, he seemed to me to give something almost like a start.
"Oh!" he said, quite loudly, and offered his hand.
"I see. You're our new cabin-boy. I'm pleased to see you."
And he took my hand in his large, firm grasp.
Just then, one of the customers at the far side rose suddenly and made for the door.
It was close by him, and he was out in the street in a moment.
But his hurry had caught my attention, and I recognized him at once.
It was the tallow-faced man, missing two fingers, who had come first to the Admiral Benbow.
"Oh," I cried, "stop him! It's Black Dog!"
"I don't care two coppers who he's," cried Silver.
"But he hasn't paid his bill. Harry, run and catch him."
One of the others nearest the door jumped up and started after him.
"If he were Admiral Hawke, he'll pay his bill," cried Silver.
Then, letting go of my hand, he asked, "Who did you say he was? Black what?"
"Dog, sir," I said.
"Hasn't Mr. Trelawney told you about the buccaneers? He was one of them."
"So?" cried Silver.
"In my house! Ben, run and help Harry. One of those swabs, was he? Was that you drinking with him, Morgan? Step up here."
The man he called Morgan, an old, grey-haired, mahogany-faced sailor, came forward quite sheepishly, rolling his quid.
"Now, Morgan," said Long John very sternly, "you never laid eyes on that Black. Black Dog before, did you, now?"
"Not I, sir," said Morgan with a salute.
"You didn't know his name, did you?"
"No, sir."
"By the powers, Tom Morgan, it's as good for you!" exclaimed the landlord.
"If you'd been mixed up with the likes of him, you'd never have put another foot in my house, you can count on that."
"And what was he saying to you?"
"I don't rightly know, sir," answered Morgan.
"Do you call that a head on your shoulders, or a blessed dead-eye?" cried Long John.
Don't rightly know, don't you! Maybe you don't rightly know who you were speaking to? Come on, what was he talking about, voyages, captains, ships? Speak up!
"We were talking about keel-hauling," answered Morgan.
"Keel-hauling, were you? And a mighty suitable thing, too, you can count on that. Get back to your place, you lubber, Tom."
Then, as Morgan rolled back to his seat, Silver added to me in a confidential whisper that was very flattering, as I thought,
"He's quite an honest man, Tom Morgan, just stupid. And now,"
He went on aloud, "let's see. Black Dog? No, I don't know the name, not I."
"Yet I kind of think I've, yes, I've seen the swab. He used to come here with a blind beggar".
"That he did, you can be sure," I said.
"I knew that blind man too. His name was Pew."
"It was!" cried Silver, now quite excited.
"Pew! That was his name for certain."
"Ah, he looked like a shark, he did!"
"If we run down this Black Dog now, there'll be news for Captain Trelawney. Ben, a great runner, should catch him, and I'll keel-haul him."
He was stumping up and down the tavern on his crutch.
He slapped tables with his hand and threw out these phrases.
His show of excitement would have convinced a judge or a police officer.
My suspicions had been fully reawakened when I found Black Dog at the Spy-glass, and I watched the cook closely.
But he was too deep, too ready, and too clever for me.
The two men came back out of breath.
They confessed that they had lost the trail in a crowd.
They were scolded like thieves, By then, I'd have bet on the innocence of Long John Silver.
"See here now, Hawkins,"
He said, "Here's a blessed hard thing on a man like me, now, isn't it?"
"There's Captain Trelawney, what's he to think?"
"Here I have this confounded son of a Dutchman sitting in my own house, drinking my own rum!"
"Here you come and tell me about it plain, and here I let him give us all the slip before my blessed eyes!"
"Now, Hawkins, you do me justice with the captain, you're a lad, but you're as smart as paint."
"I saw that when you first came in, but now I hobble on old timber and cannot stop him as I once could".
Then, all of a sudden, he stopped, and his jaw dropped as though he had remembered something.
"The bill!" he burst out.
"Three servings of rum! Why, shiver my timbers, if I hadn't forgotten my bill!"
And falling onto a bench, he laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks.
I couldn't help joining, and we laughed together, peal after peal, until the tavern rang again.
"Why, what a precious old sea-calf I'm!" he said at last, wiping his cheeks.
"You and me should get on well, Hawkins, for I'll take my oath I should be rated as ship's boy."
"But come now, stand by to go about."
"This won't do."
"Duty is duty, shipmates."
"I'll put on my old cocked hat and step along with you to Captain Trelawney and report this affair."
"For mind you, it's serious, young Hawkins."
"And neither you nor me's come out of it with what I'd call credit."
"Nor you either, says you, not smart, neither of us smart."
"But dash my buttons!"
"That was a good one about my bill."
He began to laugh again so heartily that, though I didn't see the joke, I was forced to join him.
On our short walk along the quays, he made himself the most interesting companion.
He told me about the different ships we passed, their rig, tonnage, and nationality.
He explained the work going on, how one was unloading, another taking in cargo, and a third getting ready for sea.
Every now and then, he told me some little story about ships or seamen or repeated a nautical phrase until I had learned it perfectly.
I began to see that here was one of the best possible shipmates.
When we got to the inn, the squire and Dr. Livesey were sitting together.
They were finishing a quart of ale with a toast before they went aboard the schooner for a visit of inspection.
Long John told the story from first to last, with a great deal of spirit and the most perfect truth.
"That was how it was, now, wasn't it, Hawkins?" he'd say now and again, and I could always back him up completely.
The two gentlemen regretted that Black Dog had gotten away, but we all agreed there was nothing to be done.
After he had been complimented, Long John took up his crutch and left.
"All hands aboard by four this afternoon," shouted the squire after him.
"Aye, aye, sir," cried the cook from the passage.
"Well, squire," said Dr. Livesey, "I don't put much faith in your discoveries, as a general thing. But I'll say this, John Silver suits me."
"The man's a perfect trump," declared the squire.
"And now," added the doctor, "Jim may come on board with us, may he not?"
"Of course he may," said the squire.
"Take your hat, Hawkins, and we'll see the ship."