Flint and Silver (30 page)

    For Flint was a splendid creature and Long John was not. Flint stood firm on two legs while Silver went on a crutch. Flint was handsome and gleaming; his clothes were magnificent, his bearing and movements were graceful. Long John Silver was merely big and broad and grim… and went hopping on a wooden crutch. No man dared fight him, most would choose to follow him, every one of them respected him
… but nobody wanted to be like him.
And so they were going to believe Flint and spurn Silver. Flint could see it, Silver could see it, even before Flint had finished speaking.

    "No man knows of this island but me," said Flint. "So nobody can touch the goods that we bury here. And as long as our goods are buried, they're safe from all harm!" So they cheered him and raised him on their shoulders and bore him round the deck in triumph. Flint threw back his head and roared with laughter and his parrot screeched and flapped in alarm.

    Long John thumped and staggered through the crowd and found a quiet corner. He threw his hat on the deck in anger, and he cursed and drew out his handkerchief and mopped the sweat from his face. His hands were shaking with anger.

    "John," said a voice at his side. It was Selena, tugging at his arm. She looked up at him in amazement. "Why'd they believe him?" she said, raising her small voice to be heard over the din. "It don't make no sense."

    "Neither don't it!" said Silver, and looked away in helpless disgust as the men began to bawl out the words of Flint's song in celebration.

    "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest -"

    "Why didn't they listen to you?" said Selena.

    "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum -"

    "'Cos they ain't got the brains of a louse between 'em!"

    "Drink and the devil had done for the rest -"

    "Why's Flint doing this?"

    "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum…"

    "Buggered if I know, lass."

    He sighed and looked at her, and even in that miserable moment he was pierced by her youth and by the sweet loveliness of her face. He raised a hand to stroke her cheek, and summoned a smile. It was as much of a smile as he could manage, and it didn't amount to much. But she put her hand on his and smiled back.

    "Won't you ask how I am?" she said. "Didn't you miss me?"

    "Miss you?" he said. "My little chicky, there weren't never a moment I didn't think of you." He frowned, and struggled, and dared to ask: "Did he… did that sod…?"

    "No!" she said. "I told you, he's never touched me. No man has, but you."

    Silver put an arm around her and managed a real smile. But the roaring mob rolled past at that moment, with Flint shoulder-high grinning down upon him. Seeing the two of them together, he cried:

    "Don't worry, John! I kept her warm for you! In fact I kept her
hot.
You just ask the little trollop!" He laughed till the spittle half-choked him, and Silver's face went white with fury and he snatched for his pistols, but Flint was swept away on the instant.

    Flint laughed till he ached. He laughed till his head hurt. He laughed so hard that he nearly ruptured himself. It was
… so…very… funny.
Everything Silver had said was true! It was nonsense to bury the goods. It was nonsense for the lower deck to save for a bigger pile. The drunken, whoring, feckless scum would blow the lot in days - even if it stood as high as mountains. There was no point in them burying their treasure. It was nonsense, nonsense, nonsense! At least it was nonsense for everyone except Joe Flint, who had his own plans for the treasure. Plans that did not involve dividing it by so large a figure as one hundred and forty-seven - the precise number of living souls aboard both ships, not counting the six boys and Selena.

    At the other side of the roaring vortex of men, Selena was shouting into Silver's ear, trying to be heard, and him leaning down to listen.

    "John! John!" she said, and she reached up and seized his face and made him look at her. If he'd had any sense, he'd have listened to her and believed her, but his whole body was full of anger; anger at his defeat when he knew he was right, and anger and mad jealousy at Flint's claim that he'd had his way with her. She shouted louder:

    "He didn't touch me!"

    "That ain't what he said!"

    "Who'd you believe? Him or me? He doesn't want me!"

    "Bugger that! What man
wouldn't
want you?"

    "He doesn't!"

    "Bugger that too! You said he ain't no shirt-lifter!"

    "Yes!"

    "So? What does he do? Just look at you?"

    "Yes!"

    "Just that?"

    "He looks at me and… and… plays with himself."

"What?
And you let him?"

    Selena blinked. She realised that that was exactly what she did do. Aboard
Walrus,
Flint was god and his power kept her safe from the attentions of dozens of savages whose expressions made it perfectly clear what they would do to her if Flint weren't there. So she didn't dare anger Flint. She didn't dare confront him with his…
Boxing the Jesuit,
that's what they called it; by chance she'd come across some of the ship's boys indulging in this pursuit in a dark corner, and they'd named it and given her the final and complete understanding of Captain Flint's desires where matters of the flesh were concerned.

    Those were her thoughts, but all he saw was her failure to meet his eyes.

    "So!" he said. "And you're the one that ain't no whore."

    Selena hung her head. She turned and walked away. The wound Silver had just inflicted was painful beyond bearing. Silver watched her go and all his righteous anger drained away, leaving the growing realisation that he'd just made an appalling mistake. He charged after her, knocking down any man who got in his way.

    "Selena!" he cried. "Selena!" And he poured out words that at first brought laughter from those around, especially from Flint when the spectacle was pointed out to him. But then Flint stopped laughing. He felt the shame of an enemy who'd been such a friend. Soon the whole ship stared silently, for even pirates had their limits. Even they knew what was right and wrong according to their own ways, and they were embarrassed at the sight of Long John Silver hopping along in the wake of a seventeen-year-old black slave-girl who totally ignored him while he begged forgiveness with the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Chapter 32

25th August 1752

In the morning watch (just after dawn)

Aboard Walrus

The southern anchorage

    The extent of the treasure was stunning.

    For two and a half years they'd fought for it, killed for it, many had died for it - and now it was coming up and out of
Walrus's
hold and into the daylight. It was a glorious sight: chest after chest, swinging and laden, raised by block and tackle with willing hands hauling to the tune of a shanty.

    And now, having got exactly what he wanted, Flint excelled himself in the quality of leadership that he displayed. He was so full of merriment that he didn't need even the smallest flogging to keep him content. He rose in splendour to the occasion, and became - just for once - the officer that he might have been, had Old Nick not tainted his blood with goblin- juice.

    So Flint thought the matter through. Flint set aside time. He took a whole day to ponder. And when he was done, even Caesar or Marlborough would have approved his plans - those that he made public at least.

    First, since it was necessary, for the present, to keep things sweet among the jolly companions, he invited Silver to join him aboard
Walrus
so that the officers of both ships might confer. As the heat of the island was unbearable except in the morning hours, this took place at dawn, in the open, on
Walrus's
quarterdeck, where all hands could hear. A table and chairs had been set out for the occasion, and the table was spread with the skull-and-crossbones and the Book of Articles.

    Flint even had the boatswain and his mates pipe Silver aboard, man-o'-war style, which was greeted by cheers from all hands, except Silver himself who was plunged into the depths of an enormous sulk.

    The great ones took their seats at the table while the lesser hands crowded forward. Flint was immediately joined by Billy Bones - who edged so close to his master that he was almost in his lap - along with Parson Smith and one or two others. Silver had Israel Hands and
Lion's
boatswain, Sarney Sawyer.

    Once Billy Bones had called for silence and healths had been drunk, Flint turned to business.

    "We have a heavy task before us, shipmates," he said, "for this isn't a thing to be done in an idle moment."

    "Not at all, if we wasn't block-headed!" said Silver.

    "Now, John," said Flint, "be done! All hands have voted for this."

    "Aye!" said every other voice, and they glared at Silver.

    As far as they were concerned he'd lost and was a bad loser. He sighed. He said not one more word. He sank back in his chair, and ignored them all. He did nothing but constantly and uneasily glance round the ship. He was looking for Selena, but Flint had her locked up below. It was fine sport to see Silver tormented, but there were greater matters to consider now and Flint didn't want Silver's temper ignited with unpredictable results.

    With nobody to oppose Flint's plans - which were in any case excellent - the business was rapidly concluded and Silver and his men went back to
Lion
to many good-humoured smiles and back-slapping from old friends aboard
Walrus.

    Billy Bones, however, did not go straight back to
Lion.
A word in his ear from Flint - spotted at once by Silver - informed Billy that he needed to search his old cabin for a lucky gold piece that he'd "lost". Flint declared that Billy might turn the cabin upside down, if he wished, and return to his new captain - he smiled at Silver - later in the day.

    And so to the great works. First a landing party made up equally of
Lions
and
Walruses
was sent ashore under Sarney Sawyer to set up camp. Tents were raised, stores were unloaded, and tackles were rigged - ten-foot lengths of timber with lines in the middle to sling a load by - so that two men, or four if need be, could share the burden of carrying the goods over rough ground to the burial places.

    That took most of the first day, which on the island meant working from dawn till noon, then stopping for three hours while the sun did its worst, and then working another three or four hours, depending on how well things were going. Flint had planned for a working day of just seven hours, which was a wise and sensible allowance given the sweltering humidity of the southern anchorage.

    On the second day,
Walrus's
hatches were opened and three teams put to work: one under Billy Bones, who had a dozen men as stevedores to hoist the goods out of the hold; a second under Parson Smith, who had six men and
Walrus's
twenty- five-foot cutter; and a third under Israel Hands, who led a party of four men in
Lion's
fifteen-foot jolly-boat - these being the biggest boats belonging to each ship.

    Flint's plan called for the cutter to be loaded - she would take up to forty hundredweight - and then her crew would pull for shore while the jolly-boat was being loaded with her twenty-five hundredweight. He allowed an hour for each boat to be loaded by Billy Bones's men, another hour for Sarney Sawyer's shore party to unload them, and a thirty-minute pull each way between
Walrus
and the shore.

    In theory, this would deliver two complete boatloads every three and a half hours. In practice, with the heavy current that swept the anchorage, and the debilitating effect of the climate on men not used to such work, it was found that a mere three boat-loads could be got ashore each morning, and two in the afternoon. So in the end it took four days of heavy work to empty
Walrus's
hold and get the goods ashore. The final load - greeted with cheers from both ships and the shore party - grounded two hours after dawn on the fourth day, since the mortally tired teams had failed to get it ashore before sundown the previous day.

    In celebration, Flint ordered all hands ashore. The boats were heaving with merry crews, as one hundred and forty- seven men, and six boys were brought ashore, leaving only Selena still locked in Flint's cabin, by Flint's orders.

    Laid out in neat rows, just to one side of Sarney Sawyer's camp and under the lines of bending green palms, where they took advantage of a bit of shade, the goods stood finally revealed like a regiment on parade.