Остров сокровищ

The First Blow

           "John!"saidthesailor,stretchingouthishand.

           "Handsoff!"criedSilver,leapingbackayard,asitseemedtome,withthespeedandsecurityofatrainedgymnast.

           "Handsoff,ifyoulike,JohnSilver,"saidtheother."It’sablackconsciencethatcanmakeyoufearedofme.Butinheaven’sname,tellme,whatwasthat?"

           "That?"returnedSilver,smilingaway,butwarierthanever,hiseyeamerepin-pointinhisbigface,butgleaminglikeacrumbofglass."That?Oh,Ireckonthat’llbeAlan."

           AndatthispointTomflashedoutlikeahero.

           "Alan!"hecried."Thenresthissoulforatrueseaman!Andasforyou,JohnSilver,longyou’vebeenamateofmine,butyou’remateofminenomore.IfIdielikeadog,I’lldieinmydooty.You’vekilledAlan,haveyou?Killmetoo,ifyoucan.ButIdefiesyou."

           Andwiththat,thisbravefellowturnedhisbackdirectlyonthecookandsetoffwalkingforthebeach.Buthewasnotdestinedtogofar.WithacryJohnseizedthebranchofatree,whippedthecrutchoutofhisarmpit,andsentthatuncouthmissilehurtlingthroughtheair.ItstruckpoorTom,pointforemost,andwithstunningviolence,rightbetweentheshouldersinthemiddleofhisback.Hishandsflewup,hegaveasortofgasp,andfell.

           Whetherhewereinjuredmuchorlittle,nonecouldevertell.Likeenough,tojudgefromthesound,hisbackwasbrokenonthespot.Buthehadnotimegivenhimtorecover.

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