At the Sign of the Spy-glass

WhenIhaddonebreakfastingthesquiregavemeanoteaddressedtoJohnSilver,atthesignoftheSpy-glass,andtoldmeIshouldeasilyfindtheplacebyfollowingthelineofthedocksandkeepingabrightlookoutforalittletavernwithalargebrasstelescopeforsign.Isetoff,overjoyedatthisopportunitytoseesomemoreoftheshipsandseamen,andpickedmywayamongagreatcrowdofpeopleandcartsandbales,forthedockwasnowatitsbusiest,untilIfoundthetaverninquestion.

Itwasabrightenoughlittleplaceofentertainment.Thesignwasnewlypainted;thewindowshadneatredcurtains;thefloorwascleanlysanded.Therewasastreetoneachsideandanopendooronboth,whichmadethelarge,lowroomprettycleartoseein,inspiteofcloudsoftobaccosmoke.

Thecustomersweremostlyseafaringmen,andtheytalkedsoloudlythatIhungatthedoor,almostafraidtoenter.

AsIwaswaiting,amancameoutofasideroom,andataglanceIwassurehemustbeLongJohn.Hisleftlegwascutoffclosebythehip,andundertheleftshoulderhecarriedacrutch,whichhemanagedwithwonderfuldexterity,hoppingaboutuponitlikeabird.Hewasverytallandstrong,withafaceasbigasahamplainandpale,butintelligentandsmiling.Indeed,heseemedinthemostcheerfulspirits,whistlingashemovedaboutamongthetables,withamerrywordoraslapontheshoulderforthemorefavouredofhisguests.

Now,totellyouthetruth,fromtheveryfirstmentionofLongJohninSquireTrelawney’sletterIhadtakenafearinmymindthathemightprovetobetheveryone-leggedsailorwhomIhadwatchedforsolongattheoldBenbow.

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