prove to be the very one-legged sailor whom I had watched for so long at the old Benbow. But one look at the man before me was enough. I had seen the captain, and Black Dog, and the blind man Pew, and I thought I knew what a buccaneer was like—a very different creature, according to me, from this clean and pleasant-tempered landlord.
I plucked up courage at once, crossed the threshold, and walked right up to 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 you be?” And when he saw the squire’s letter he seemed to me to give something almost like a start.
“Oh!” said he, quite aloud, and offering his hand, “I see. You are our new