Sure enough, two men stood outside the stockade. One waved a white cloth, and the other, waiting calmly, was Long John. It was still quite early in the morning and bone-chillingly cold; Long John and his companion stood knee-deep in a low, white fog. The island seemed damp and feverish, a most unhealthy place.
"Keep indoors with your muskets, men," said Captain Smollett. "It may be a trick." Then the captain yelled to the pirates, "Who goes there? Speak or we’ll fire!"
"Flag of truce," Silver cried.
The other man shouted, "Captain Silver is here, sir, to make peace."
"Captain Silver? Who’s he?" roared Smollett. Then he added to himself, "Captain, is it? He’s given himself a promotion!"
"It’s me, sir," Long John called out. "These lads chose me to be their captain, after you deserted your crew, sir."
He emphasized the word "deserted."
"We want to discuss our differences with you," Silver went on. "All I ask, Captain Smollett, is your word that I’ll be safe inside this stockade, and that you’ll give me one minute to get out of range before a gun is fired."
"If you wish to talk to me, you can come in," Smollett said. "I give you my word that if there’s any treachery, it’ll be from you, not me."
"That’s good enough, Captain," Long John said cheerily. "Your word is enough."
Silver walked to the stockade, threw his crutch over, got a leg up from his companion, and with great vigor and skill, climbed over the fence and dropped safely to the other side. He had trouble getting up the hill, however. The tree stumps and the soft sand made him and his crutch as helpless as a ship out of water. But he stuck to it and arrived, dressed in his best blue coat with a fine laced hat on his head, at last before the captain.
I was so fascinated by the meeting that I left my place at the musket hole and stood behind the captain.
"Have a seat," said Captain Smollett, motioning to the sandy ground.
"Can’t we go inside, Captain?" pleaded Long John. "It’s too cold to sit outside."
"It’s your own doing," the captain said. "If you had stayed an honest man, you’d be warming yourself in the ship’s galley as my cook. But you are Captain Silver now, a common mutineer and pirate, so you can go hang!"
"Well, you’ll have to help me up again, that’s all," said Silver as he sat down on the sand.
"If you have anything to say, you’d better say it," the captain replied, sitting down across from him.
"Well now, that was quite a fight last night, Captain Smollett," Silver replied. "I don’t deny it. That’s why I’m here to make peace. You thrashed my men pretty good—even killed one of us. But hear me, Captain—you won’t catch us twice, by thunder! Maybe you think we were all drunk. But I wasn’t—I was sober, just very tired. If I’d awakened a second sooner, I’d have pounded you."
"Well?" Smollett said coolly.
Captain Smollett didn’t know what Silver was talking about, but you’d never have guessed it from his tone. I had a good inkling, though, as to what Long John was describing. Ben Gunn must have sneaked up on the pirates while they all lay drunk on the beach around their fire. I smiled and thought, "Now we have one less pirate to deal with, thanks to my new friend."
"We want that treasure, and we will have it!" exclaimed Silver. "You have the map, don’t you?"
"Maybe," the captain replied.
"Oh, you have it. I know that," said Long John. "We just want the map. I never meant to do you any harm—"
"We know what you meant to do," Captain Smollett interrupted.
"Give us the treasure map," demanded Silver, "and stop shooting my men and smashing their heads in while they sleep. Once we have the treasure, I promise to drop you ashore somewhere safe. Or you can stay here. We’ll evenly divide the provisions we have, and I promise to send the first ship I see to pick you up. You couldn’t get a better deal."
Captain Smollett rose. "Is that all?" he said.
"Refuse my offer," Silver answered, "and all you’ll see from me is musket fire."
"Very good," the captain said. "Here’s my counteroffer. You all come here one by one, unarmed. I’ll put you in chains and take you to England for a fair trial. Refuse my offer, and I’ll see you all at the bottom of the sea. You can’t find the treasure. You can’t sail the ship—not a man among you knows how to navigate that ship. You can’t fight us—Gray, there, got away from five of you. Your ship is useless, Mr. Silver, because it’s anchored on a windless shore. And in the name of heaven, I’ll put a bullet in your back when I meet you again. Now go. Get out of here, and make it quick."
Silver’s eyes bulged with wrath. "Help me up!" he shouted.
"No," the captain calmly replied.
"Who’ll give me a hand up?" he roared.
Not one of us moved. Growling foul curses, Long John crawled along the sand to the porch and hoisted himself up on his crutch. Then he spat into the spring.
"That’s what I think of you," he cried. "I’ll smash this house like a cask of rum. Laugh, by thunder, laugh! Those of you that die will be the lucky ones."
He stumbled off, cursing, and then tried four or five times to get over the stockade fence. The man with the flag of truce finally helped him, and they disappeared among the trees.