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When I had done breakfasting, the squire gave me a note addressed toJohn Silver, at the sign of the "Spy-glass," and told me I should easilyfind the place by following the line of the docks, and keeping a brightlookout for a little tavern with a large brass telescope for a sign. Iset off, overjoyed at this opportunity to see some more of the ships andseamen, and picked my way among a great crowd of people and carts andbales, for the dock was now at its busiest, until I found the tavern inquestion.

It was a bright enough little place of entertainment. The sign was newlypainted; the windows had neat red curtains; the floor was cleanlysanded. There was a street on each side, and an open door on both, whichmade the large, low room pretty clear to see in, in spite of clouds oftobacco smoke.

The customers were mostly seafaring men, and they talked so loudly thatI hung at the door, almost afraid to enter.

As I was waiting, a man came out of a side room, and at a glance I wassure he must be Long John. His left leg was cut off close by the hip,and under the left shoulder he carried a crutch, which he managed withwonderful dexterity, hopping about upon it like a bird. He was very talland strong, with a face as big as a ham--plain and pale, butintelligent and smiling. Indeed, he seemed in the most cheerful spirits,whistling as he moved about among the tables, with a merry word or aslap on the shoulder for the more favored of his guests.

Now, to tell you the truth, from the very first mention of Long John inSquire Trelawney's letter, I had taken a fear in my mind that he mightprove to be the very one-legged sailor whom I had watched for so long atthe old "Benbow." But one look at the man before me was enough. I hadseen the captain, and Black Dog, and the blind man Pew, and I thought Iknew what a buccaneer was like--a very different creature, according tome, from this clean and pleasant-tempered landlord.

I plucked up courage at once, crossed the threshold, and walked right upto the man where he stood, propped on his crutch, talking to a customer.

"Mr. Silver, sir?" I asked, holding out the note.

"Yes, my lad," said he; "such is my name, to be sure. And who may yoube?" And when he saw the squire's letter he seemed to me to givesomething almost like a start.

"Oh!" said he, quite aloud, and offering his hand, "I see. You are ournew cabin-boy; pleased I am 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 madefor the door. It was close by him, and he was out in the street in amoment. But his hurry had attracted my notice, and I recognized him at aglance. It was the tallow-faced man, wanting two fingers, who had comefirst to the "Admiral Benbow."

"Oh," I cried, "stop him! it's Black Dog!"

"I don't care two coppers who he is," cried Silver, "but he hasn't paidhis score. Harry, run and catch him."

One of the others who was nearest the door leaped up and started inpursuit.

"If he were Admiral Hawke he shall pay his score," cried Silver; andthen, relinquishing my hand, "Who did you say he was?" he asked. "Blackwhat?"

"Dog, sir," said I. "Has Mr. Trelawney not told you of the buccaneers?He was one of them."

"So?" cried Silver. "In my house! Ben, run and help Harry. One of thoseswabs, was he? Was that you drinking with him, Morgan? Step up here."

The man whom he called Morgan--an old, gray-haired, mahogany-facedsailor--came forward pretty sheepishly, rolling his quid.

[Illustration: _"Now, Morgan," said Long John, very sternly, "you neverclapped your eyes on that Black Dog before, did you, now?"_ (Page 57)]

"Now, Morgan," said Long John, very sternly, "you never clapped youreyes 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 thelandlord. "If you had been mixed up with the like of that, you wouldnever have put another foot in my house, you may lay to that. And whatwas 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? Perhaps you don'thappen to rightly know who you was speaking to, perhaps? Come, now,what was he jawing--v'yages, cap'ns, ships? Pipe up! What was it?"

"We was a-talkin' of keel-hauling," answered Morgan.

"Keel-hauling, was you? and a mighty suitable thing, too, and you maylay to that. Get back to your place for a lubber, Tom."

And then, as Morgan rolled back to his seat, Silver added to me, in aconfidential whisper, that was very flattering, as I thought:

"He's quite an honest man, Tom Morgan, on'y stupid. And now," he ran onagain, 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 herewith a blind beggar, he used."

"That he did, you may be sure," said I. "I knew that blind man, too. Hisname was Pew."

"It was!" cried Silver, now quite excited. "Pew! That were his name forcertain. Ah, he looked a shark, he did! If we run down this Black Dognow, there'll be news for Cap'n Trelawney! Ben's a good runner; fewseamen run better than Ben. He should run him down, hand over hand, bythe powers! He talked o' keel-hauling, did he? _I'll_ keel-haul him!"

All the time he was jerking out these phrases he was stumping up anddown the tavern on his crutch, slapping tables with his hand, and givingsuch a show of excitement as would have convinced an Old Bailey judge ora Bow Street runner. My suspicions had been thoroughly reawakened onfinding Black Dog at the "Spy-glass," and I watched the cook narrowly.But he was too deep, and too ready, and too clever for me, and by thetime the two men had come back out of breath, and confessed that theyhad lost the track in a crowd, and been scolded like thieves, I wouldhave gone bail for the innocence of Long John Silver.

"See here, now, Hawkins," said he, "here's a blessed hard thing on a manlike me, now, ain't it? There's Cap'n Trelawney--what's he to think?Here I have this confounded son of a Dutchman sitting in my own house,drinking of my own rum! Here you comes and tells me of it plain; andhere I let him give us all the slip before my blessed deadlights! Now,Hawkins, you do me justice with the cap'n. You're a lad, you are, butyou're as smart as paint. I see that when you first came in. Now, hereit is: What could I do, with this old timber I hobble on? When I was anA B master mariner I'd have come up alongside of him, hand over hand,and broached him to in a brace of old shakes, I would; and now--"

And then, all of a sudden, he stopped, and his jaw dropped as though hehad remembered something.

"The score!" he burst out. "Three goes o' rum! Why, shiver my timbers,if I hadn't forgotten my score!"

And, falling on a bench, he laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks.I could not help joining, and we laughed together, peal after peal,until the tavern rang again.

"Why, what a precious old sea-calf I am!" he said, at last, wiping hischeeks. "You and me should get on well, Hawkins, for I'll take my davy Ishould be rated ship's boy. But, come, now, stand by to go about. Thiswon't do. Dooty is dooty, messmates. I'll put on my old cocked hat andstep along of you to Cap'n Trelawney, and report this here affair. For,mind you, it's serious, young Hawkins; and neither you nor me's come outof it with what I should make so bold as to call credit. Nor youneither, says you; not smart--none of the pair of us smart. But dash mybuttons! that was a good 'un about my score."

And he began to laugh again, and that so heartily, that though I did notsee the joke as he did, I was again obliged to join him in his mirth.

On our little walk along the quays he made himself the most interestingcompanion, telling me about the different ships that we passed by, theirrig, tonnage, and nationality, explaining the work that was goingforward--how one was discharging, another taking in cargo, and a thirdmaking ready for sea; and every now and then telling me some littleanecdote of ships or seamen, or repeating a nautical phrase till I hadlearned it perfectly. I began to see that here was one of the best ofpossible shipmates.

When we got to the inn, the squire and Doctor Livesey were seatedtogether, finishing a quart of ale with a toast in it, before theyshould go aboard the schooner on a visit of inspection.

Long John told the story from first to last, with a great deal of spiritand the most perfect truth. "That was how it were, now, weren't it,Hawkins?" he would say, now and again, and I could always bear himentirely out.

The two gentlemen regretted that Black Dog had got away, but we allagreed there was nothing to be done, and after he had been complimented,Long John took up his crutch and departed.

"All hands aboard by four this afternoon!" shouted the squire after him.

"Ay, ay, sir," cried the cook, in the passage.

"Well, squire," said Doctor Livesey, "I don't put much faith in yourdiscoveries, as a general thing, but I will say this--John Silver suitsme."

"That man's a perfect trump," declared the squire.

"And now," added the doctor, "Jim may come on board with us, may henot?"

"To be sure he may," said the squire. "Take your hat, Hawkins, and we'llsee the ship."

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