Острів Скарбів / Treasure Island

At that another fellow, probably him who had remained below to search the captain’s body, came to the door of the inn. «Bill’s been overhauled a’ready», said he; «nothin’ left».

«It’s these people of the inn – it’s that boy. I wish I had put his eyes out!» cried the blind man, Pew. «There were here no time ago – they had the door bolted when I tried it. Scatter, lads, and find ’em».

«Sure enough, they left their glim here», said the fellow from the window.

«Scatter and find ’em! Rout the house out!» reiterated Pew, striking with his stick upon the road.

Then there followed a great to-do through all our old inn, heavy feet pounding to and fro, furniture thrown over, doors kicked in, until the very rocks re-echoed and the men came out again, one after another, on the road and declared that we were nowhere to be found.

And just the same whistle that had alarmed my mother and myself over the dead captain’s money was once more clearly audible through the night, but this time twice repeated.

I had thought it to be the blind man’s trumpet, so to speak, summoning his crew to the assault, but I now found that it was a signal from the hillside towards the hamlet, and from its effect upon the buccaneers, a signal to warn them of approaching danger.

«There’s Dirk again», said one. «Twice! We’ll have to budge, mates».

«Budge, you skulk!» cried Pew. «Dirk was a fool and a coward from the first – you wouldn’t mind him. They must be close by; they can’t be far; you have your hands on it.

Scatter and look for them, dogs! Oh, shiver my soul», he cried, «if I had eyes!»

This appeal seemed to produce some effect, for two of the fellows began to look here and there among the lumber, but half-heartedly, I thought, and with half an eye to their own danger all the time, while the rest stood irresolute on the road.

«You have your hands on thousands, you fools, and you hang a leg! You’d be as rich as kings if you could find it, and you know it’s here, and you stand there skulking.

There wasn’t one of you dared face Bill, and I did it – a blind man! And I’m to lose my chance for you! I’m to be a poor, crawling beggar, sponging for rum, when I might be rolling in a coach! If you had the pluck of a weevil in a biscuit you would catch them still».

«Hang it, Pew, we’ve got the doubloons!» grumbled one.

«They might have hid the blessed thing», said another.

«Take the Georges, Pew, and don’t stand here squalling».