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IT was longer than the squire imagined ere we were
ready for the sea, and none of our first plans--not
even Dr. Livesey's, of keeping me beside him--could be
carried out as we intended. The doctor had to go to
London for a physician to take charge of his practice;
the squire was hard at work at Bristol; and I lived on
at the hall under the charge of old Redruth, the
gamekeeper, almost a prisoner, but full of sea-dreams
and the most charming anticipations of strange islands
and adventures. I brooded by the hour together over
the map, all the details of which I well remembered.
Sitting by the fire in the housekeeper's room, I
approached that island in my fancy from every possible
direction; I explored every acre of its surface; I
climbed a thousand times to that tall hill they call
the Spy-glass, and from the top enjoyed the most
wonderful and changing prospects. Sometimes the isle
was thick with savages, with whom we fought, sometimes
full of dangerous animals that hunted us, but in all my
fancies nothing occurred to me so strange and tragic as
our actual adventures.
So the weeks passed on, till one fine day there came a
letter addressed to Dr. Livesey, with this addition,
"To be opened, in the case of his absence, by Tom
Redruth or young Hawkins." Obeying this order, we
found, or rather I found--for the gamekeeper was a poor
hand at reading anything but print--the following
important news:
Old Anchor Inn, Bristol, March 1, 17--
Dear Livesey--As I do not know whether you
are at the hall or still in London, I send this in
double to both places.
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, "Dr.
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 Dr.
Livesey, I should think."
At that I gave up all attempts at commentary and read
straight on:
Blandly himself found the HISPANIOLA, and
by the most admirable management got her for the
merest trifle. There is a class of men in Bristol
monstrously prejudiced against Blandly. They go
the length of declaring that this honest creature
would do anything for money, that the HISPANIOLA
belonged to him, and that he sold it me absurdly
high--the most transparent calumnies. None of them
dare, however, to deny the merits of the ship.
Wo far there was not a hitch. The
workpeople, to be sure--riggers and what not--were
most annoyingly slow; but time cured that. It was
the crew that troubled me.
I wished a round score of men--in case of
natives, buccaneers, or the odious French--and I
had the worry of the deuce itself to find so much
as half a dozen, till the most remarkable stroke
of fortune brought me the very man that I
required.
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