“Captain Smollett,” began the doctor, with a smile, “did ever you hear the fable of the mountain and the mouse? You’ll excuse me, I dare say, but you remind me of that fable. When you came in here I’ll stake my wig you meant more than this.”
“Doctor,” said the captain, “you are smart. When I came in here I meant to get discharged. I had no thought that Mr. Trelawney would hear a word.”
“No more I would,” cried the squire. “Had Livesey not been here I should have seen you to the deuce. As it is, I have heard you. I will do as you desire, but I think the worse of you.”
“That’s as you please, sir,” said the captain. “You’ll find I do my duty.”
And with that he took his leave.
“Trelawney,” said the doctor, “contrary to all my notions, I believe you have managed to get two honest men on board with you—that man and John Silver.”
“Silver, if you like,” cried the squire, “but as for that intolerable humbug, I declare I think his conduct unmanly, unsailorly, and downright un-English.”
“Well,” said the doctor, “we shall see.”
When we came on deck the men had begun already to take out the arms and powder, yo-ho-ing at their work, while the captain and Mr. Arrow stood by superintending.
The new arrangement was quite to my liking. The whole schooner had been overhauled; six berths had been made astern, out of what had been the after-part of the main hold, and this set of cabins was only joined to the galley and forecastle by a sparred passage on the port side. It had been