Остров сокровищ

           HandslayasIhadlefthim,allfallentogetherinabundleandwithhiseyelidsloweredasthoughheweretooweaktobearthelight.Helookedup,however,atmycoming,knockedtheneckoffthebottlelikeamanwhohaddonethesamethingoften,andtookagoodswig,withhisfavouritetoastof"Here’sluck!"Thenhelayquietforalittle,andthen,pullingoutastickoftobacco,beggedmetocuthimaquid.

           "Cutmeajunko’that,"sayshe,"forIhaven’tnoknifeandhardlystrengthenough,sobeasIhad.Ah,Jim,Jim,IreckonI’vemissedstays!Cutmeaquid,as’lllikelybethelast,lad,forI’mformylonghome,andnomistake."

           "Well,"saidI,"I’llcutyousometobacco,butifIwasyouandthoughtmyselfsobadly,IwouldgotomyprayerslikeaChristianman."

           "Why?"saidhe."Now,youtellmewhy."

           "Why?"Icried."Youwereaskingmejustnowaboutthedead.You’vebrokenyourtrust;you’velivedinsinandliesandblood;there’samanyoukilledlyingatyourfeetthismoment,andyouaskmewhy!ForGod’smercy,Mr.Hands,that’swhy."

           Ispokewithalittleheat,thinkingofthebloodydirkhehadhiddeninhispocketanddesigned,inhisillthoughts,toendmewith.He,forhispart,tookagreatdraughtofthewineandspokewiththemostunusualsolemnity.

           "Forthirtyyears,"hesaid,"I’vesailedtheseasandseengoodandbad,betterandworse,fairweatherandfoul,provisionsrunningout,knivesgoing,andwhatnot.Well,nowItellyou,Ineverseengoodcomeo’goodnessyet.Himasstrikesfirstismyfancy;deadmendon’tbite;them’smyviews—amen,sobeit.