“The ship is bought and fitted. She lies at anchor, ready for sea. You never imagined a sweeter schooner⁠—a child might sail her⁠—two hundred tons; name, Hispaniola .

“I got her through my old friend, Blandly, who has proved himself throughout the most surprising trump. The admirable fellow literally slaved in my interest, and so, I may say, did everyone in Bristol, as soon as they got wind of the port we sailed for⁠—treasure, I mean.”

“Redruth,” said I, interrupting the letter, “Doctor Livesey will not like that. The squire has been talking, after all.”

“Well, who’s a better right?” growled the gamekeeper. “A pretty rum go if Squire ain’t to talk for Doctor Livesey, I should think.”

At that I gave up all attempt at commentary, and read straight on: