prompt:
Chapter: AT THE "ADMIRAL BENBOW"

Squire Trelawney, Doctor Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having
asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from
the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the
island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I
take up my pen in the year of grace 17--, and go back to the time when
my father kept the "Admiral Benbow" Inn, and the brown old seaman, with
the saber cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.

[Illustration: _I remember him as if it were yesterday as he came
plodding to the inn door_ (Page 3)]

I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding to the inn
door, his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow; a tall,
strong, heavy, nut-brown man; his tarry pig-tail falling over the
shoulders of his soiled blue coat; his hands ragged and scarred, with
black, broken nails, and the saber cut across one cheek, a dirty, livid
white. I remember him looking round the cove and whistling to himself as
he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so
often afterwards:

    "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest,
      Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!"

in the high, old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and
broken at the capstan bars. Then he rapped on the door with a bit of
stick like a handspike that he carried, and when my father appeared,
called roughly for a glass of rum. This, when it was brought to him, he
drank slowly, like a connoisseur, lingering on the taste, and still
looking about him at the cliffs and up at our signboard.

"This is a handy cove," says he, at length; "and a pleasant sittyated
grog-shop. Much company, mate?"

My father told him no, very little company, the more was the pity.

"Well, then," said he, "this is the berth for me. Here you, matey," he
cried to the man who trundled the barrow; "bring up alongside and help
up my chest. I'll stay here a bit," he continued. "I'm a plain man; rum
and bacon and eggs is what I want, and that head up there for to watch
ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I
see what you're at--there"; and he threw down three or four gold pieces
on the threshold. "You can tell me when I've worked through that," said
he, looking as fierce as a commander.

And, indeed, bad as his clothes were, and coarsely as he spoke, he had
none of the appearance of a man who sailed before the mast, but seemed
like a mate or skipper, accustomed to be obeyed or to strike. The man
who came with the barrow told us the mail had set him down the morning
before at the "Royal George"; that he had inquired what inns there were
along the coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and
described as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place of
residence. And that was all we could learn of our guest.

He was a very silent man by custom. All day he hung round the cove, or
upon the cliffs, with a brass telescope; all evening he sat in a corner
of the parlor next the fire, and drank rum and water very strong. Mostly
he would not speak when spoken to; only look up sudden and fierce, and
blow through his nose like a fog-horn; and we and the people who came
about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day, when he came back
from his stroll, he would ask if any seafaring men had gone by along the
road. At first we thought it was the want of company of his own kind
that made him ask this question; but at last we began to see he was
desirous to avoid them. When a seaman put up at the "Admiral Benbow" (as
now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol), he would
look in at him through the curtained door before he entered the parlor;
and he was always sure to be as silent as a mouse when any such was
present. For me, at least, there was no secret about the matter; for I
was, in a way, a sharer in his alarms.

He had taken me aside one day and promised me a silver fourpenny on the
first of every month if I would only keep my "weather eye open for a
seafaring man with one leg," and let him know the moment he appeared.
Often enough when the first of the month came round, and I applied to
him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at me, and stare me
down; but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it,
bring me my fourpenny piece, and repeat his orders to look out for "the
seafaring man with one leg."

How that personage haunted my dreams, I need scarcely tell you. On
stormy nights, when the wind shook the four corners of the house, and
the surf roared along the cove and up the cliffs, I would see him in a
thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical expressions. Now the leg
would be cut off at the knee, now at the hip; now he was a monstrous
kind of a creature who had never had but one leg, and that in the middle
of his body. To see him leap and run and pursue me over hedge and ditch,
was the worst of nightmares. And altogether I paid pretty dear for my
monthly fourpenny piece, in the shape of these abominable fancies.

But though I was so terrified by the idea of the seafaring man with one
leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than anybody else who
knew him. There were nights when he took a deal more rum and water than
his head would carry; and then he would sometimes sit and sing his
wicked, old, wild sea-songs, minding nobody; but sometimes he would call
for glasses round, and force all the trembling company to listen to his
stories or bear a chorus to his singing. Often I have heard the house
shaking with "Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum," all the neighbors joining
in for dear life, with the fear of death upon them, and each singing
louder than the other to avoid remark. For in these fits he was the most
overriding companion ever known; he would slap his hand on the table for
silence all around; he would fly up in a passion of anger at a question,
or sometimes because none was put, and so he judged the company was not
following his story. Nor would he allow anyone to leave the inn till he
had drunk himself sleepy and reeled off to bed.

His stories were what frightened people worst of all. Dreadful stories
they were; about hanging, and walking the plank, and storms at sea, and
the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds and places on the Spanish Main. By his
own account, he must have lived his life among some of the wickedest men
that God ever allowed upon the sea; and the language in which he told
these stories shocked our plain country people almost as much as the
crimes that he described. My father was always saying the inn would be
ruined, for people would soon cease coming there to be tyrannized over
and put down and sent shivering to their beds; but I really believe his
presence did us good. People were frightened at the time, but on looking
back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement in a quiet country
life; and there was even a party of the younger men who pretended to
admire him, calling him a "true sea-dog," and a "real old salt," and
such like names, and saying there was the sort of man that made England
terrible at sea.

In one way, indeed, he bade fair to ruin us; for he kept on staying week
after week, and at last month after month, so that all the money had
been long exhausted, and still my father never plucked up the heart to
insist on having more. If ever he mentioned it, the captain blew through
his nose so loudly that you might say he roared, and stared my poor
father out of the room. I have seen him wringing his hands after such a
rebuff, and I am sure the annoyance and the terror he lived in must have
greatly hastened his early and unhappy death.

All the time he lived with us the captain made no change whatever in his
dress but to buy some stockings from a hawker. One of the cocks of his
hat having fallen down, he let it hang from that day forth, though it
was a great annoyance when it blew. I remember the appearance of his
coat, which he patched himself upstairs in his room, and which, before
the end, was nothing but patches. He never wrote or received a letter,
and he never spoke with any but the neighbors, and with these, for the
most part, only when drunk on rum. The great sea-chest none of us had
ever seen open.

He was only once crossed, and that was toward the end, when my poor
father was far gone in a decline that took him off. Doctor Livesey came
late one afternoon to see the patient, took a bit of dinner from my
mother, and went into the parlor to smoke a pipe until his horse should
come down from the hamlet, for we had no stabling at the old "Benbow." I
followed him in, and I remember observing the contrast the neat, bright
doctor, with his powder as white as snow, and his bright, black eyes and
pleasant manners, made with the coltish country folk, and above all,
with that filthy, heavy, bleared scarecrow of a pirate of ours, sitting
far gone in rum, with his arms on the table. Suddenly he--the captain,
that is--began to pipe up his eternal song:

    "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest--
      Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!
    Drink and the devil had done for the rest--
      Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!"

At first I had supposed "the dead man's chest" to be that identical big
box of his upstairs in the front room, and the thought had been mingled
in my nightmares with that of the one-legged seafaring man. But by this
time we had all long ceased to pay any particular notice to the song; it
was new, that night, to nobody but Doctor Livesey, and on him I observed
it did not produce an agreeable effect, for he looked up for a moment
quite angrily before he went on with his talk to old Taylor, the
gardener, on a new cure for rheumatics. In the meantime the captain
gradually brightened up at his own music, and at last flapped his hand
upon the table before him in a way we all knew to mean--silence. The
voices stopped at once, all but Doctor Livesey's; he went on as before,
speaking clear and kind, and drawing briskly at his pipe between every
word or two. The captain glared at him for a while, flapped his hand
again, glared still harder, and at last broke out with a villainous
oath: "Silence, there, between decks!"

"Were you addressing me, sir?" said the doctor; and when the ruffian had
told him, with another oath, that this was so, replied, "I have only one
thing to say to you, sir, that if you keep on drinking rum, the world
will soon be quit of a very dirty scoundrel!"

The old fellow's fury was awful. He sprang to his feet, drew and opened
a sailor's clasp-knife, and balancing it open on the palm of his hand,
threatened to pin the doctor to the wall.

The doctor never so much as moved. He spoke to him, as before, over his
shoulder, and in the same tone of voice, rather high, so that all the
room might hear, but perfectly calm and steady:

"If you do not put that knife this instant into your pocket, I promise,
upon my honor, you shall hang at the next assizes."

Then followed a battle of looks between them; but the captain soon
knuckled under, put up his weapon, and resumed his seat, grumbling like
a beaten dog.

"And now, sir," continued the doctor, "since I now know there's such a
fellow in my district, you may count I'll have an eye upon you day and
night. I'm not a doctor only, I'm a magistrate; and if I catch a breath
of complaint against you, if it's only for a piece of incivility like
to-night's, I'll take effectual means to have you hunted down and routed
out of this. Let that suffice."

Soon after Doctor Livesey's horse came to the door and he rode away, but
the captain held his peace that evening, and for many evenings to come.

[Illustration]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Squire Trelawney, Doctor Livesey, and others have asked Jim Hawkins to write down his adventures. So Jim is going to start where it all began: at the Admiral Benbow inn, owned by Jim's father. One day, a tall, ragged, suntanned sailor walks into the inn. He is singing a song: "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest - Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!" . The man asks Jim's father if they get many customers. When he hears that business is slow, he decides to stay at the inn. Even though the man's clothes are ragged, his manner is proud and commanding. He tells Jim's father he is a captain, but he won't say much more about himself. He spends all day looking out at the sea through his telescope and spying on the few sailors who pass through the area. The captain takes Jim aside and promises to pay him an allowance each month if Jim will help him keep an eye out for a one-legged sailor. The captain tells terrible stories about the violent life on the high seas, which terrify and fascinate all the men of the neighborhood. The captain keeps staying at the Admiral Benbow inn long after his money runs out. Jim's father is too afraid to ask him to leave. Jim's father is sick, and one evening Doctor Livesey comes by the inn to see him. After seeing Jim's father, Doctor Livesey sits talking to Taylor, the gardener. The captain is singing as usual - the same old song about the "dead man's chest." The captain signals for the whole inn to be quiet, and everyone shuts up except Doctor Livesey. The captain tells Doctor Livesey directly to be quiet. Doctor Livesey asks if the captain is talking to him. When the captain says yes, Doctor Livesey tells him that if the captain doesn't knock off drinking so much rum, the world will have one less "very dirty scoundrel" in it. The captain jumps up and draws a knife. Doctor Livesey doesn't bat an eyelid. He just warns that captain that if he doesn't put the knife away, he'll hang for it. The captain knuckles under, grumbling. Doctor Livesey warns that he's going to keep an eye on the captain from now on. Doctor Livesey is also the local magistrate . If he hears any complaints about the captain, he's going to have him thrown out of the district. Doctor Livesey rides away, and the captain continues to sit quietly.


prompt:
Chapter: BLACK DOG APPEARS AND DISAPPEARS

It was not very long after this that there occurred the first of the
mysterious events that rid us at last of the captain, though not, as you
will see, of his affairs. It was a bitter cold winter, with long, hard
frosts and heavy gales; and it was plain from the first that my poor
father was little likely to see the spring. He sank daily, and my mother
and I had all the inn upon our hands, and were kept busy enough without
paying much regard to our unpleasant guest.

It was one January morning, very early--a pinching, frosty morning--the
cove all gray with hoar-frost, the ripple lapping softly on the stones,
the sun still low, and only touching the hill-tops and shining far to
seaward. The captain had risen earlier than usual, and set out down the
beach, his cutlass swinging under the broad skirts of the old blue coat,
his brass telescope under his arm, his hat tilted back upon his head. I
remember his breath hanging like smoke in his wake as he strode off, and
the last sound I heard of him, as he turned the big rock, was a loud
snort of indignation, as though his mind was still running upon Doctor
Livesey.

Well, mother was upstairs with father, and I was laying the breakfast
table against the captain's return, when the parlor door opened and a
man stepped in on whom I had never set my eyes before. He was a pale,
tallowy creature, wanting two fingers of the left hand; and, though he
wore a cutlass, he did not look much like a fighter. I had always my
eyes open for seafaring men, with one leg or two, and I remember this
one puzzled me. He was not sailorly, and yet he had a smack of the sea
about him too.

I asked him what was for his service, and he said he would take rum, but
as I was going out of the room to fetch it he sat down upon a table and
motioned to me to draw near. I paused where I was, with my napkin in my
hand.

"Come here, sonny," said he. "Come nearer here."

I took a step nearer.

"Is this here table for my mate Bill?" he asked, with a kind of leer.

I told him I did not know his mate Bill, and this was for a person who
stayed at our house, whom we called the captain.

"Well," said he, "my mate Bill would be called the captain, as like as
not. He has a cut on one cheek, and a mighty pleasant way with him,
particularly in drink, has my mate Bill. We'll put it, for argument
like, that your captain has a cut on one cheek--and we'll put it, if you
like, that that cheek's the right one. Ah, well! I told you. Now, is my
mate Bill in this here house?"

I told him he was out walking.

"Which way, sonny? Which way is he gone?"

And when I had pointed out the rock and told him how the captain was
likely to return, and how soon, and answered a few other questions,
"Ah," said he, "this'll be as good as drink to my mate Bill."

The expression of his face as he said these words was not at all
pleasant, and I had my own reasons for thinking that the stranger was
mistaken, even supposing he meant what he said. But it was no affair of
mine, I thought; and, besides, it was difficult to know what to do.

The stranger kept hanging about just inside the inn door, peering round
the corner like a cat waiting for a mouse. Once I stepped out myself
into the road, but he immediately called me back, and, as I did not obey
quick enough for his fancy, a most horrible change came over his tallowy
face, and he ordered me in with an oath that made me jump. As soon as I
was back again he returned to his former manner, half-fawning,
half-sneering, patted me on the shoulder, told me I was a good boy, and
he had taken quite a fancy to me. "I have a son of my own," said he, "as
like you as two blocks, and he's all the pride of my 'art. But the great
thing for boys is discipline, sonny--discipline. Now, if you had sailed
along of Bill, you wouldn't have stood there to be spoke to twice--not
you. That was never Bill's way, nor the way of sich as sailed with him.
And here, sure enough, is my mate Bill, with a spy-glass under his arm,
bless his old 'art, to be sure. You and me'll just go back into the
parlor, sonny, and get behind the door, and we'll give Bill a little
surprise--bless his 'art, I say again."

So saying, the stranger backed along with me into the parlor, and put me
behind him into the corner, so that we were both hidden by the open
door. I was very uneasy and alarmed, as you may fancy, and it rather
added to my fears to observe that the stranger was certainly frightened
himself. He cleared the hilt of his cutlass and loosened the blade in
the sheath, and all the time we were waiting there he kept swallowing
as if he felt what we used to call a lump in the throat.

At last in strode the captain, slammed the door behind him, without
looking to the right or left, and marched straight across the room to
where his breakfast awaited him.

"Bill," said the stranger, in a voice that I thought he had tried to
make bold and big.

The captain spun round on his heel and fronted us; all the brown had
gone out of his face, and even his nose was blue; he had the look of a
man who sees a ghost, or the Evil One, or something worse, if anything
can be; and, upon my word, I felt sorry to see him, all in a moment,
turn so old and sick.

"Come, Bill, you know me; you know an old shipmate, Bill, surely," said
the stranger.

The captain made a sort of gasp.

"Black Dog!" said he.

"And who else?" returned the other, getting more at his ease. "Black Dog
as ever was, come for to see his old shipmate, Billy, at the 'Admiral
Benbow' Inn. Ah, Bill, Bill, we have seen a sight of times, us two,
since I lost them two talons," holding up his mutilated hand.

"Now, look here," said the captain; "you've run me down; here I am;
well, then, speak up; what is it?"

"That's you, Bill," returned Black Dog; "you're in the right of it,
Billy. I'll have a glass of rum from this dear child here, as I've took
such a liking to; and we'll sit down, if you please, and talk square,
like old shipmates."

When I returned with the rum they were already seated on either side of
the captain's breakfast table--Black Dog next to the door, and sitting
sideways, so as to have one eye on his old shipmate and one, as I
thought, on his retreat.

He bade me go and leave the door wide open. "None of your keyholes for
me, sonny," he said, and I left them together and retired into the bar.

For a long time, though I certainly did my best to listen, I could hear
nothing but a low gabbling; but at last the voices began to grow higher,
and I could pick up a word or two, mostly oaths, from the captain.

"No, no, no, no; and an end of it!" he cried once. And again, "If it
comes to swinging, swing all, say I."

Then all of a sudden there was a tremendous explosion of oaths and other
noises; the chair and table went over in a lump, a clash of steel
followed, and then a cry of pain, and the next instant I saw Black Dog
in full flight, and the captain hotly pursuing, both with drawn
cutlasses, and the former streaming blood from the left shoulder. Just
at the door the captain aimed at the fugitive one last tremendous cut,
which would certainly have split him to the chin had it not been
intercepted by our big signboard of "Admiral Benbow." You may see the
notch on the lower side of the frame to this day.

That blow was the last of the battle. Once out upon the road, Black Dog,
in spite of his wound, showed a wonderful clean pair of heels, and
disappeared over the edge of the hill in half a minute. The captain, for
his part, stood staring at the signboard like a bewildered man. Then he
passed his hand over his eyes several times, and at last turned back
into the house.

"Jim," says he, "rum"; and as he spoke he reeled a little, and caught
himself with one hand against the wall.

"Are you hurt?" cried I.

"Rum," he repeated. "I must get away from here. Rum! rum!"

I ran to fetch it, but I was quite unsteadied by all that had fallen
out, and I broke one glass and fouled the tap, and while I was still
getting in my own way, I heard a loud fall in the parlor, and, running
in, beheld the captain lying full length upon the floor. At the same
instant my mother, alarmed by the cries and fighting, came running
downstairs to help me. Between us we raised his head. He was breathing
very loud and hard, but his eyes were closed and his face was a horrible
color.

"Dear, deary me!" cried my mother, "what a disgrace upon the house! And
your poor father sick!"

In the meantime we had no idea what to do to help the captain, nor any
other thought but that he had got his death-hurt in the scuffle with the
stranger. I got the rum, to be sure, and tried to put it down his
throat, but his teeth were tightly shut, and his jaws as strong as iron.
It was a happy relief for us when the door opened and Doctor Livesey
came in, on his visit to my father.

"Oh, doctor," we cried, "what shall we do? Where is he wounded?"

"Wounded? A fiddlestick's end!" said the doctor. "No more wounded than
you or I. The man has had a stroke, as I warned him. Now, Mrs. Hawkins,
just you run upstairs to your husband and tell him, if possible, nothing
about it. For my part, I must do my best to save this fellow's trebly
worthless life; and, Jim, you get me a basin."

When I got back with the basin the doctor had already ripped up the
captain's sleeve and exposed his great sinewy arm. It was tattooed in
several places. "Here's luck," "A fair wind," and "Billy Bones, his
fancy," were very neatly and clearly executed on the forearm; and up
near the shoulder there was a sketch of a gallows and a man hanging from
it--done, as I thought, with great spirit.

"Prophetic," said the doctor, touching this picture with his finger.
"And now, Master Billy Bones, if that be your name, we'll have a look at
the color of your blood. Jim," he said, "are you afraid of blood?"

"No, sir," said I.

"Well, then," said he, "you hold the basin," and with that he took his
lancet and opened a vein.

A great deal of blood was taken before the captain opened his eyes and
looked mistily about him. First he recognized the doctor with an
unmistakable frown; then his glance fell upon me, and he looked
relieved. But suddenly his color changed, and he tried to raise himself,
crying:

"Where's Black Dog?"

"There is no Black Dog here," said the doctor, "except what you have on
your own back. You have been drinking rum; you have had a stroke
precisely as I told you; and I have just, very much against my own will,
dragged you headforemost out of the grave. Now, Mr. Bones--"

"That's not my name," he interrupted.

"Much I care," returned the doctor. "It's the name of a buccaneer of my
acquaintance, and I call you by it for the sake of shortness, and what I
have to say to you is this: One glass of rum won't kill you, but if you
take one you'll take another and another, and I stake my wig if you
don't break off short, you'll die--do you understand that?--die, and go
to your own place, like the man in the Bible. Come, now, make an
effort. I'll help you to your bed for once."

Between us, with much trouble, we managed to hoist him upstairs, and
laid him on his bed, where his head fell back on the pillow, as if he
were almost fainting.

"Now, mind you," said the doctor, "I clear my conscience--the name of
rum for you is death."

And with that he went off to see my father, taking me with him by the
arm.

"This is nothing," he said, as soon as he had closed the door. "I have
drawn blood enough to keep him quiet awhile; he should lie for a week
where he is--that is the best thing for him and you, but another stroke
would settle him."

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The winter is bitter cold, and Jim's father is dying. One January morning, the captain is sitting at the beach with his telescope on his arm. Jim is setting the breakfast table when a pale man missing two fingers on his left hand comes in. The man sits down, orders a rum, and asks Jim about a friend of his named Bill, who has a cut on his right cheek. Jim answers that they know a man like that, whom they call the captain. The man asks where the captain is and Jim says he'll be coming back to the inn soon. The man physically pushes Jim into another room and makes him hide behind a door. The man half draws his sword and stands waiting in silence for the captain. The captain walks in at last, strolling straight for the breakfast table. The man calls out, "Bill," and the captain whirls around, paling. The captain gasps out the man's name: "Black Dog!" Black Dog invites the captain to sit down and share some rum like proper shipmates. Jim clears out of the room, but soon he hears a few things: the captain says if anyone's going to hang, they should all hang. Then Jim hears the captain swearing a lot, and Black Dog comes running out with the captain hot on his heels. Their swords are both drawn, and Black Dog is bleeding. Black Dog is fast enough to run away, leaving the captain looking confused. The captain orders rum and collapses on the floor. Jim's mother is worried that the inn is going to be disgraced by this fight. Doctor Livesey has arrived at the inn to treat Jim's father. He realizes that the captain has had a stroke. Doctor Livesey bleeds the captain to try to improve his circulation. The captain wakes up and asks where Black Dog is. Doctor Livesey says there's no Black Dog there, and then warns the captain that he'll die if he keeps drinking so much rum. Doctor Livesey leaves after recommending that the captain stay in bed for a week.


prompt:
Chapter: THE BLACK SPOT

About noon I stopped at the captain's door with some cooling drinks and
medicines. He was lying very much as we had left him, only a little
higher, and he seemed both weak and excited.

"Jim," he said, "you're the only one here that's worth anything; and you
know I've always been good to you. Never a month but I've given you a
silver fourpenny for yourself. And now you see, mate, I'm pretty low,
and deserted by all; and, Jim, you'll bring me one noggin of rum, now,
won't you, matey?"

"The doctor--" I began.

But he broke in, cursing the doctor in a feeble voice, but heartily.
"Doctors is all swabs," he said; "and that doctor there, why, what do he
know about seafaring men? I been in places hot as pitch, and mates
dropping round with yellow jack, and the blessed land a-heaving like the
sea with earthquakes--what do the doctor know of lands like that?--and I
lived on rum, I tell you. It's been meat and drink, and man and wife, to
me; and if I am not to have my rum now I'm a poor old hulk on a lee
shore. My blood'll be on you, Jim, and that doctor swab," and he ran on
again for a while with curses. "Look, Jim, how my fingers fidges," he
continued in the pleading tone. "I can't keep 'em still, not I. I
haven't had a drop this blessed day. That doctor's a fool, I tell you.
If I don't have a drain o' rum, Jim, I'll have the horrors; I seen some
on 'em already. I seen old Flint in the corner there, behind you; as
plain as print, I seen him; and if I get the horrors, I'm a man that has
lived rough, and I'll raise Cain. Your doctor hisself said one glass
wouldn't hurt me. I'll give you a golden guinea for a noggin, Jim."

He was growing more and more excited, and this alarmed me, for my
father, who was very low that day, needed quiet; besides, I was
reassured by the doctor's words, now quoted to me, and rather offended
by the offer of a bribe.

"I want none of your money," said I, "but what you owe my father. I'll
get you one glass and no more."

When I brought it to him he seized it greedily and drank it out.

"Ay, ay," said he, "that's some better, sure enough. And now, matey, did
that doctor say how long I was to lie here in this old berth?"

"A week at least," said I.

"Thunder!" he cried. "A week! I can't do that; they'd have the black
spot on me by then. The lubbers is going about to get the wind of me
this blessed moment; lubbers as couldn't keep what they got, and want to
nail what is another's. Is that seamanly behavior, now, I want to know?
But I'm a saving soul. I never wasted good money of mine, nor lost it
neither; and I'll trick 'em again. I'm not afraid on 'em. I'll shake out
another reef, matey, and daddle 'em again."

As he was thus speaking, he had risen from bed with great difficulty,
holding to my shoulder with a grip that almost made me cry out, and
moving his legs like so much dead weight. His words, spirited as they
were in meaning, contrasted sadly with the weakness of the voice in
which they were uttered. He paused when he had got into a sitting
position on the edge.

"That doctor's done me," he murmured. "My ears is singing. Lay me back."

Before I could do much to help him he had fallen back again to his
former place, where he lay for a while silent.

"Jim," he said, at length, "you saw that seafaring man to-day?"

"Black Dog?" I asked.

"Ah! Black Dog," said he. "_He's_ a bad 'un; but there's worse that put
him on. Now, if I can't get away nohow, and they tip me the black spot,
mind you, it's my old sea-chest they're after; you get on a horse--you
can, can't you? Well, then, you get on a horse and go to--well, yes, I
will!--to that eternal doctor swab, and tell him to pipe all
hands--magistrates and sich--and he'll lay 'em aboard at the 'Admiral
Benbow'--all old Flint's crew, man and boy, all on 'em that's left. I
was first mate, I was, old Flint's first mate, and I'm the on'y one as
knows the place. He gave it me at Savannah, when he lay a-dying, like as
if I was to now, you see. But you won't peach unless they get the black
spot on me, or unless you see that Black Dog again, or a seafaring man
with one leg, Jim--him above all."

"But what is the black spot, captain?" I asked.

"That's a summons, mate. I'll tell you if they get that. But you keep
your weather-eye open, Jim, and I'll share with you equals, upon my
honor."

He wandered a little longer, his voice growing weaker; but soon after I
had given him his medicine, which he took like a child, with the remark,
"If ever a seaman wanted drugs, it's me," he fell at last into a heavy,
swoon-like sleep, in which I left him. What I should have done had all
gone well I do not know. Probably I should have told the whole story to
the doctor; for I was in mortal fear lest the captain should repent of
his confessions and make an end of me. But as things fell out, my poor
father died quite suddenly that evening, which put all other matters on
one side. Our natural distress, the visits of the neighbors, the
arranging of the funeral, and all the work of the inn to be carried on
in the meanwhile, kept me so busy that I had scarcely time to think of
the captain, far less to be afraid of him.

He got downstairs next morning, to be sure, and had his meals as usual,
though he ate little, and had more, I am afraid, than his usual supply
of rum, for he helped himself out of the bar, scowling and blowing
through his nose, and no one dared to cross him. On the night before the
funeral he was as drunk as ever; and it was shocking, in that house of
mourning, to hear him singing away his ugly old sea-song; but, weak as
he was, we were all in fear of death for him, and the doctor was
suddenly taken up with a case many miles away, and was never near the
house after my father's death. I have said the captain was weak, and
indeed he seemed rather to grow weaker than to regain his strength. He
clambered up and down stairs, and went from the parlor to the bar and
back again, and sometimes put his nose out of doors to smell the sea,
holding on to the walls as he went for support, and breathing hard and
fast, like a man on a steep mountain. He never particularly addressed
me, and it is my belief he had as good as forgotten his confidences; but
his temper was more flighty, and, allowing for his bodily weakness, more
violent than ever. He had an alarming way now when he was drunk of
drawing his cutlass and laying it bare before him on the table. But,
with all that, he minded people less, and seemed shut up in his own
thoughts and rather wandering. Once, for instance, to our extreme
wonder, he piped up to a different air, a kind of country love-song,
that he must have learned in his youth before he had begun to follow the
sea.

So things passed until the day after the funeral and about three o'clock
of a bitter, foggy, frosty afternoon, I was standing at the door for a
moment, full of sad thoughts about my father, when I saw someone drawing
slowly near along the road. He was plainly blind, for he tapped before
him with a stick, and wore a great green shade over his eyes and nose;
and he was hunched, as if with age or weakness, and wore a huge old
tattered sea-cloak with a hood that made him appear positively deformed.
I never saw in my life a more dreadful-looking figure. He stopped a
little from the inn and, raising his voice in an odd sing-song,
addressed the air in front of him:

"Will any kind friend inform a poor blind man, who has lost the precious
sight of his eyes in the gracious defense of his native country,
England, and God bless King George!--where or in what part of this
country he may now be?"

"You are at the 'Admiral Benbow,' Black Hill Cove, my good man," said I.

"I hear a voice," said he, "a young voice. Will you give me your hand,
my kind young friend, and lead me in?"

I held out my hand, and the horrible, soft-spoken, eyeless creature
gripped it in a moment like a vise. I was so much startled that I
struggled to withdraw, but the blind man pulled me close up to him with
a single action of his arm.

"Now, boy," he said, "take me in to the captain."

"Sir," said I, "upon my word I dare not."

"Oh," he sneered, "that's it! Take me in straight, or I'll break your
arm."

He gave it, as he spoke, a wrench that made me cry out.

"Sir," said I, "it is for yourself I mean. The captain is not what he
used to be. He sits with a drawn cutlass. Another gentleman--"

"Come, now, march," interrupted he, and I never heard a voice so cruel,
and cold, and ugly as that blind man's. It cowed me more than the pain,
and I began to obey him at once, walking straight in at the door and
towards the parlor, where the sick old buccaneer was sitting, dazed with
rum. The blind man clung close to me, holding me in one iron fist, and
leaning almost more of his weight on me than I could carry. "Lead me
straight up to him, and when I'm in view, cry out, 'Here's a friend for
you, Bill.' If you don't, I'll do this," and with that he gave me a
twitch that I thought would have made me faint. Between this and that, I
was so utterly terrified by the blind beggar that I forgot my terror of
the captain, and as I opened the parlor door, cried out the words he had
ordered in a trembling voice.

The poor captain raised his eyes, and at one look the rum went out of
him and left him staring sober. The expression of his face was not so
much of terror as of mortal sickness. He made a movement to rise, but I
do not believe he had enough force left in his body.

"Now, Bill, sit where you are," said the beggar. "If I can't see, I can
hear a finger stirring. Business is business. Hold out your left hand.
Boy, take his left hand by the wrist and bring it near to my right."

We both obeyed him to the letter, and I saw him pass something from the
hollow of the hand that held his stick into the palm of the captain's,
which closed upon it instantly.

"And now that's done," said the blind man, and at the words he suddenly
left hold of me, and with incredible accuracy and nimbleness, skipped
out of the parlor and into the road, where, as I stood motionless, I
could hear his stick go tap-tap-tapping into the distance.

It was some time before either I or the captain seemed to gather our
senses; but at length, and about the same moment, I released his wrist,
which I was still holding, and he drew in his hand, and looked sharply
into the palm.

"Ten o'clock!" he cried. "Six hours! We'll do them yet!" and he sprang
to his feet.

Even as he did so, he reeled, put his hand to his throat, stood swaying
for a moment, and then, with a peculiar sound, fell from his whole
height face foremost to the floor.

I ran to him at once, calling to my mother. But haste was all in vain.
The captain had been struck dead by thundering apoplexy. It is a curious
thing to understand, for I had certainly never liked the man, though of
late I had begun to pity him, but as soon as I saw that he was dead I
burst into a flood of tears. It was the second death I had known, and
the sorrow of the first was still fresh in my heart.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Jim comes in with medicine for the captain. The captain begs Jim for some rum. Jim agrees because he doesn't want the captain to make a fuss and disturb Jim's poor father. The captain keeps raving about getting "the black spot" because Black Dog and some other friends of his want the captain's old sea-chest. The black spot is a summons - a demand to appear. The captain was actually a first mate to someone he calls "old Flint" . He adds that he's the only one who knows the place - what place, we don't know yet. The captain also drops a hint about "a seafaring man with one leg" who is the worst of all. Jim's father dies suddenly that night, and Jim forgets all about the captain's confessions. The captain comes downstairs the next day and continues on just as usual, drinking even more rum than before his stroke. The day after Jim's father's funeral, a blind man appears at the inn. The blind man asks Jim for his hand to guide him inside. Once the blind man has hold of Jim, he grips him hard and demands to be taken to the captain. The blind man is twisting Jim's arm so hard Jim is afraid it will break. Jim leads the blind man to the captain. The blind man demands that the captain hold his left hand out. The blind man presses something into the palm of the captain's left hand. Then he leaves the inn. The captain exclaims, "Ten o'clock Six hours" . The captain wants to go find Doctor Livesey. The captain jumps up, grabs his throat, then falls to the ground. Jim runs for his mother, but it's too late: the captain has died.


prompt:
Chapter: THE SEA-CHEST

I lost no time, of course, in telling my mother all that I knew, and
perhaps should have told her long before, and we saw ourselves at once
in a difficult and dangerous position. Some of the man's money--if he
had any--was certainly due to us, but it was not likely that our
captain's shipmates, above all the two specimens seen by me--Black Dog
and the blind beggar--would be inclined to give up their booty in
payment of the dead man's debts. The captain's order to mount at once
and ride for Doctor Livesey would have left my mother alone and
unprotected, which was not to be thought of. Indeed, it seemed
impossible for either of us to remain much longer in the house; the fall
of coals in the kitchen grate, the very ticking of the clock, filled us
with alarm. The neighborhood, to our ears, seemed haunted by approaching
footsteps; and what between the dead body of the captain on the parlor
floor and the thought of that detestable blind beggar hovering near at
hand and ready to return, there were moments when, as the saying goes, I
jumped in my skin for terror. Something must speedily be resolved upon,
and it occurred to us at last to go forth together and seek help in the
neighboring hamlet. No sooner said than done. Bareheaded as we were, we
ran out at once in the gathering evening and the frosty fog.

The hamlet lay not many hundred yards away, though out of view, on the
other side of the next cove; and what greatly encouraged me, it was in
an opposite direction from that whence the blind man had made his
appearance, and whither he had presumably returned. We were not many
minutes on the road, though we sometimes stopped to lay hold of each
other and hearken. But there was no unusual sound--nothing but the low
wash of the ripple and the croaking of the inmates of the wood.

It was already candle-light when we reached the hamlet, and I shall
never forget how much I was cheered to see the yellow shine in doors and
windows; but that, as it proved, was the best of the help we were likely
to get in that quarter. For--you would have thought men would have been
ashamed of themselves--no soul would consent to return with us to the
"Admiral Benbow." The more we told of our troubles, the more--man,
woman, and child--they clung to the shelter of their houses. The name of
Captain Flint, though it was strange to me, was well enough known to
some there, and carried a great weight of terror. Some of the men who
had been to field-work on the far side of the "Admiral Benbow"
remembered, besides, to have seen several strangers on the road, and,
taking them to be smugglers, to have bolted away; and one at least had
seen a little lugger in what we called Kitt's Hole. For that matter,
anyone who was a comrade of the captain's was enough to frighten them to
death. And the short and the long of the matter was, that while we could
get several who were willing enough to ride to Doctor Livesey's, which
lay in another direction, not one would help us to defend the inn.

They say cowardice is infectious; but then argument is, on the other
hand, a great emboldener; and so when each had said his say, my mother
made them a speech. She would not, she declared, lose money that
belonged to her fatherless boy. "If none of the rest of you dare," she
said, "Jim and I dare. Back we will go, the way we came, and small
thanks to you big, hulking, chicken-hearted men! We'll have that chest
open, if we die for it. And I'll thank you for that bag, Mrs. Crossley,
to bring back our lawful money in."

Of course I said I would go with my mother; and of course they all cried
out at our foolhardiness; but even then not a man would go along with
us. All they would do was to give me a loaded pistol, lest we were
attacked; and to promise to have horses ready saddled, in case we were
pursued on our return; while one lad was to ride forward to the doctor's
in search of armed assistance.

My heart was beating fiercely when we two set forth in the cold night
upon this dangerous venture. A full moon was beginning to rise and
peered redly through the upper edges of the fog, and this increased our
haste, for it was plain, before we came forth again, that all would be
bright as day, and our departure exposed to the eyes of any watchers. We
slipped along the hedges, noiseless and swift, nor did we see or hear
anything to increase our terrors till, to our huge relief, the door of
the "Admiral Benbow" had closed behind us.

I slipped the bolt at once, and we stood and panted for a moment in the
dark, alone in the house with the dead captain's body. Then my mother
got a candle in the bar, and, holding each other's hands, we advanced
into the parlor. He lay as we had left him, on his back, with his eyes
open, and one arm stretched out.

"Draw down the blind, Jim," whispered my mother; "they might come and
watch outside. And now," said she, when I had done so, "we have to get
the key off _that_; and who's to touch it, I should like to know!" and
she gave a kind of sob as she said the words.

I went down on my knees at once. On the floor close to his hand there
was a little round of paper, blackened on one side. I could not doubt
that this was the _black spot_; and, taking it up, I found written on
the other side, in a very good, clear hand, this short message, "You
have till ten to-night."

"He had till ten, mother," said I; and, just as I said it, our old clock
began striking. This sudden noise startled us shockingly; but the news
was good, for it was only six.

"Now, Jim," she said, "that key!"

I felt in his pockets, one after another. A few small coins, a thimble,
and some thread and big needles, a piece of pig-tail tobacco bitten away
at the end, his gully with the crooked handle, a pocket compass, and a
tinder-box, were all that they contained, and I began to despair.

"Perhaps it's round his neck," suggested my mother.

Overcoming a strong repugnance, I tore open his shirt at the neck, and
there, sure enough, hanging to a bit of tarry string, which I cut with
his own gully, we found the key. At this triumph we were filled with
hope, and hurried upstairs, without delay, to the little room where he
had slept so long, and where his box had stood since the day of his
arrival.

It was like any other seaman's chest on the outside, the initial "B"
burned on the top of it with a hot iron, and the corners somewhat
smashed and broken as by long, rough usage.

"Give me the key," said my mother, and though the lock was very stiff,
she had turned it and thrown back the lid in a twinkling.

A strong smell of tobacco and tar arose from the interior, but nothing
was to be seen on the top except a suit of very good clothes, carefully
brushed and folded. They had never been worn, my mother said. Under that
the miscellany began--a quadrant, a tin cannikin, several sticks of
tobacco, two brace of very handsome pistols, a piece of bar silver, an
old Spanish watch, and some other trinkets of little value and mostly of
foreign make, a pair of compasses mounted with brass, and five or six
curious West Indian shells. I have often wondered since why he should
have carried about these shells with him in his wandering, guilty, and
hunted life.

In the meantime we found nothing of any value but the silver and the
trinkets, and neither of these were in our way. Underneath there was an
old boat-cloak, whitened with sea-salt on many a harbor-bar. My mother
pulled it up with impatience, and there lay before us, the last things
in the chest, a bundle tied up in oilcloth, and looking like papers, and
a canvas bag that gave forth, at a touch, the jingle of gold.

"I'll show those rogues that I'm an honest woman," said my mother. "I'll
have my dues and not a farthing over. Hold Mrs. Crossley's bag." And she
began to count over the amount of the captain's score from the sailor's
bag into the one that I was holding.

It was a long, difficult business, for the coins were of all countries
and sizes--doubloons, and louis-d'ors, and guineas, and pieces of eight,
and I know not what besides, all shaken together at random. The guineas,
too, were about the scarcest, and it was with these only that my mother
knew how to make her count.

When we were about halfway through, I suddenly put my hand upon her arm,
for I had heard in the silent, frosty air, a sound that brought my heart
into my mouth--the tap-tapping of the blind man's stick upon the frozen
road. It drew nearer and nearer, while we sat holding our breath. Then
it struck sharp on the inn door, and then we could hear the handle being
turned, and the bolt rattling as the wretched being tried to enter; and
then there was a long time of silence both within and without. At last
the tapping recommenced, and to our indescribable joy and gratitude,
died slowly away again until it ceased to be heard.

"Mother," said I, "take the whole and let's be going"; for I was sure
the bolted door must have seemed suspicious, and would bring the whole
hornet's nest about our ears; though how thankful I was that I had
bolted it, none could tell who had never met that terrible blind man.

But my mother, frightened as she was, would not consent to take a
fraction more than was due to her, and was obstinately unwilling to be
content with less. It was not yet seven, she said, by a long way; she
knew her rights and she would have them; and she was still arguing with
me, when a little low whistle sounded a good way off upon the hill. That
was enough, and more than enough, for both of us.

"I'll take what I have," she said, jumping to her feet.

"And I'll take this to square the count," said I, picking up the oilskin
packet.

Next moment we were both groping downstairs, leaving the candle by the
empty chest; and the next we had opened the door and were in full
retreat. We had not started a moment too soon. The fog was rapidly
dispersing; already the moon shone quite clear on the high ground on
either side, and it was only in the exact bottom of the dell and round
the tavern door that a thin veil still hung unbroken to conceal the
first steps of our escape. Far less than halfway to the hamlet, very
little beyond the bottom of the hill, we must come forth into the
moonlight. Nor was this all; for the sound of several footsteps running
came already to our ears, and as we looked back in their direction, a
light, tossing to and fro, and still rapidly advancing, showed that one
of the new-comers carried a lantern.

"My dear," said my mother, suddenly, "take the money and run on. I am
going to faint."

This was certainly the end for both of us, I thought. How I cursed the
cowardice of the neighbors! how I blamed my poor mother for her honesty
and her greed, for her past foolhardiness and present weakness! We were
just at the little bridge, by good fortune, and I helped her, tottering
as she was, to the edge of the bank, where, sure enough, she gave a sigh
and fell on my shoulder. I do not know how I found the strength to do it
all, and I am afraid it was roughly done, but I managed to drag her down
the bank and a little way under the arch. Farther I could not move her,
for the bridge was too low to let me do more than crawl below it. So
there we had to stay--my mother almost entirely exposed, and both of us
within earshot of the inn.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Jim tells his mother all about the captain's last words. They decide to go together into town to look for help. They're shocked that no one will go back with them to the Admiral Benbow. They are all too afraid, especially hearing the name of Captain Flint. The most anyone is willing to do is to ride to Doctor Livesey's to let him know what has happened. Jim's mother tells them they're all cowards and announces her intention to go back to the inn and open the captain's sea-chest. Jim's mother expects the chest to be full of treasure, at least some of which the captain owes her for his lodgings. They creep slowly into the parlor of the inn, where they find the captain lying exactly where they left him. Jim finds a piece of paper blackened on one side , which says that the captain has until ten that night. The clock has only just struck six. Jim finds the key to the chest hanging around the dead captain's neck. Jim's mother unlocks the chest. They find a bunch of random things - clothes, a compass, a few trinkets, and coins from many different places. Jim's mother starts counting out the amount she's owed from these spare bits of change. Suddenly Jim hears the tapping of the blind man's stick outside; it approaches and then seems to go away. Jim's mother is afraid, but she won't stop carefully counting the money. She refuses to just take it all. Then both Jim and his mother hear a low whistle. Jim's mother decides to take what she has. Jim also grabs a bunch of what seem to be papers. They both sneak downstairs and out the back door. They can see a lantern and hear approaching footsteps. Jim's mother tells Jim to take the money because she's going to faint. Jim is sure they are both going to be murdered. Jim grabs his mother and helps her down underneath a nearby bridge to hide from sight.


prompt:
Chapter: THE LAST OF THE BLIND MAN

My curiosity, in a sense, was stronger than my fear; for I could not
remain where I was, but crept back to the bank again, whence, sheltering
my head behind a bush of broom, I might command the road before our
door. I was scarcely in position ere my enemies began to arrive, seven
or eight of them, running hard, their feet beating out of time along the
road, and the man with the lantern some paces in front. Three men ran
together, hand in hand; and I made out, even through the mist, that the
middle man of this trio was the blind beggar. The next moment his voice
showed me that I was right.

"Down with the door!" he cried.

"Ay, ay, sir!" answered two or three; and a rush was made upon the
"Admiral Benbow," the lantern-bearer following; and then I could see
them pause, and hear speeches passed in a lower key, as if they were
surprised to find the door open. But the pause was brief, for the blind
man again issued his commands. His voice sounded louder and higher, as
if he were afire with eagerness and rage.

"In, in, in!" he shouted, and cursed them for their delay.

Four or five of them obeyed at once, two remaining on the road with the
formidable beggar. There was a pause, then a cry of surprise, and then
a voice shouting from the house:

"Bill's dead!"

But the blind man swore at them again for their delay.

"Search him, some of you shirking lubbers, and the rest of you aloft and
get the chest," he cried.

I could hear their feet rattling up our old stairs, so that the house
must have shook with it. Promptly afterward fresh sounds of astonishment
arose; the window of the captain's room was thrown open with a slam and
a jingle of broken glass, and a man leaned out into the moonlight, head
and shoulders, and addressed the blind beggar on the road below him.

[Illustration: _"Pew!" he cried, "they've been before us"_ (Page 34)]

"Pew!" he cried, "they've been before us. Someone's turned the chest out
alow and aloft."

"Is it there?" roared Pew.

"The money's there."

The blind man cursed the money.

"Flint's fist, I mean," he cried.

"We don't see it here, nohow," returned the man.

"Here, you below there, is it on Bill?" cried the blind man again.

At that, another fellow, probably he who had remained below to search
the captain's body, came to the door of the inn. "Bill's been overhauled
a'ready," said he, "nothin' left."

"It's these people of the inn--it's that boy. I wish I had put his eyes
out!" cried the blind man, Pew. "They were here no time ago--they had
the door bolted when I tried it. Scatter, lads, and find 'em."

"Sure enough, they left their glim here," said the fellow from the
window.

"Scatter and find 'em! Rout the house out!" reiterated Pew, striking
with his stick upon the road.

Then there followed a great to-do through all our old inn, heavy feet
pounding to and fro, furniture all thrown over, doors kicked in, until
the very rocks re-echoed, and the men came out again, one after another,
on the road, and declared that we were nowhere to be found. And just
then the same whistle that had alarmed my mother and myself over the
dead captain's money was once more clearly audible through the night,
but this time twice repeated. I had thought it to be the blind man's
trumpet, so to speak, summoning his crew to the assault; but I now found
that it was a signal from the hillside toward the hamlet, and, from its
effect upon the buccaneers, a signal to warn them of approaching danger.

"There's Dirk again," said one. "Twice! We'll have to budge, mates."

"Budge, you skulk!" cried Pew. "Dirk was a fool and a coward from the
first--you wouldn't mind him. They must be close by; they can't be far;
you have your hands on it. Scatter and look for them, dogs. Oh, shiver
my soul," he cried, "if I had eyes!"

This appeal seemed to produce some effect, for two of the fellows began
to look here and there among the lumber, but half-heartedly, I thought,
and with half an eye to their own danger all the time, while the rest
stood irresolute on the road.

"You have your hands on thousands, you fools, and you hang a leg! You'd
be as rich as kings if you could find it, and you know it's here, and
you stand there skulking. There wasn't one of you dared face Bill, and I
did it--a blind man! And I'm to lose my chance for you! I'm to be a
poor, crawling beggar, sponging for rum, when I might be rolling in a
coach! If you had the pluck of a weevil in a biscuit, you would catch
them still."

"Hang it, Pew, we've got the doubloons!" grumbled one.

"They might have hid the blessed thing," said another. "Take the
Georges, Pew, and don't stand here squalling."

Squalling was the word for it; Pew's anger rose so high at these
objections; till at last, his passion completely taking the upper hand,
he struck at them right and left in his blindness, and his stick sounded
heavily on more than one.

These, in their turn, cursed back at the blind miscreant, threatened him
in horrid terms, and tried in vain to catch the stick and wrest it from
his grasp.

This quarrel was the saving of us; for while it was still raging,
another sound came from the top of the hill on the side of the
hamlet--the tramp of horses galloping. Almost at the same time a
pistol-shot, flash, and report came from the hedge side. And that was
plainly the last signal of danger, for the buccaneers turned at once and
ran, separating in every direction, one seaward along the cove, one
slant across the hill, and so on, so that in half a minute not a sign of
them remained but Pew. Him they had deserted, whether in sheer panic or
out of revenge for his ill words and blows, I know not; but there he
remained behind, tapping up and down the road in a frenzy, and groping
and calling for his comrades. Finally he took the wrong turn, and ran a
few steps past me, towards the hamlet, crying:

"Johnny, Black Dog, Dirk," and other names, "you won't leave old Pew,
mates--not old Pew?"

Just then the noise of horses topped the rise, and four or five riders
came in sight in the moonlight, and swept at full gallop down the slope.

At this Pew saw his error, turned with a scream, and ran straight for
the ditch, into which he rolled. But he was on his feet again in a
second, and made another dash, now utterly bewildered, right under the
nearest of the coming horses.

The rider tried to save him, but in vain. Down went Pew with a cry that
rang high into the night, and the four hoofs trampled and spurned him
and passed by. He fell on his side, then gently collapsed upon his face,
and moved no more.

I leaped to my feet and hailed the riders. They were pulling up, at any
rate, horrified at the accident, and I soon saw what they were. One,
tailing out behind the rest, was a lad that had gone from the hamlet to
Doctor Livesey's; the rest were revenue officers, whom he had met by the
way, and with whom he had had the intelligence to return at once. Some
news of the lugger in Kitt's Hole had found its way to Supervisor Dance,
and set him forth that night in our direction, and to that circumstance
my mother and I owed our preservation from death.

Pew was dead, stone dead. As for my mother, when we had carried her up
to the hamlet, a little cold water and salts very soon brought her back
again, and she was none the worse for her terror, though she still
continued to deplore the balance of the money.

In the meantime the supervisor rode on, as fast as he could, to Kitt's
Hole; but his men had to dismount and grope down the dingle, leading,
and sometimes supporting, their horses, and in continual fear of
ambushes; so it was no great matter for surprise that when they got
down to the Hole the lugger was already under way, though still close
in. He hailed her. A voice replied, telling him to keep out of the
moonlight, or he would get some lead in him, and at the same time a
bullet whistled close by his arm. Soon after, the lugger doubled the
point and disappeared. Mr. Dance stood there, as he said, "like a fish
out of water," and all he could do was to dispatch a man to B---- to
warn the cutter. "And that," said he, "is just about as good as nothing.
They've got off clean, and there's an end. Only," he added, "I'm glad I
trod on Master Pew's corns"; for by this time he had heard my story.

I went back with him to the "Admiral Benbow," and you cannot imagine a
house in such a state of smash; the very clock had been thrown down by
these fellows in their furious hunt after my mother and myself; and
though nothing had actually been taken away except the captain's
money-bag and a little silver from the till, I could see at once that we
were ruined. Mr. Dance could make nothing of the scene.

"They got the money, you say? Well, then, Hawkins, what in fortune were
they after? More money, I suppose?"

"No, sir; not money, I think," replied I. "In fact, sir, I believe I
have the thing in my breast-pocket; and, to tell you the truth, I should
like to get it put in safety."

"To be sure, boy; quite right," said he. "I'll take it, if you like."

"I thought, perhaps, Doctor Livesey--" I began.

"Perfectly right," he interrupted, very cheerily, "perfectly right--a
gentleman and a magistrate. And, now I come to think of it, I might as
well ride round there myself and report to him or squire. Master Pew's
dead, when all's done; not that I regret it, but he's dead, you see, and
people will make it out against an officer of his Majesty's revenue, if
make it out they can. Now, I'll tell you, Hawkins, if you like, I'll
take you along."

I thanked him heartily for the offer, and we walked back to the hamlet
where the horses were. By the time I had told mother of my purpose they
were all in the saddle.

"Dogger," said Mr. Dance, "you have a good horse; take up this lad
behind you."

As soon as I was mounted, holding on to Dogger's belt, the supervisor
gave the word, and the party struck out at a bouncing trot on the road
to Doctor Livesey's house.

[Illustration]

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Jim sneaks up to the riverbank next to the road that leads to the inn's door. He sees seven or eight guys running towards the inn. Three of them break down the door. The blind man seems to be the leader. One of them reports to the blind man that the captain is dead. The blind man orders them to search his body. They find the chest empty; whatever they were looking for isn't there. The blind man yells that it must have been Jim who took it. The men start to search the house. Another low whistle comes from the hillside, warning the men that someone is coming. The blind man refuses to let his men leave, since he thinks the whistler is a coward. The men start to fight with the blind man: they've gotten some gold from the captain's chest and they don't want to hang around waiting for the police. The blind man is furious and starts hitting the men with his cane. The noise of their fighting distracts them from the sound of approaching horses. A pistol shot sounds as a final warning of danger, and all of the pirates manage to get away. The only one who can't escape is the blind man, who runs out onto the road calling after his comrades: "Johnny, Black Dog, Dirk" and others. In the confusion, the blind man runs straight under the hooves of the riders. They try to stop, but they can't in time. The blind man is killed instantly. Jim's mother is fainting. The riders bring her into the house and she soon regains consciousness. It turns out the riders are revenue officers - also known as tax collectors - whom the guy who rode out to find Doctor Livesey brought back with him. The supervisor of these officers, Mr. Dance, rides on to try to find the rest of the pirates, but he can't. The inn is ruined: everything is smashed and broken, and Jim can see that he and his mother are out of business. Everyone is confused about what the pirates could have been looking for. Jim thinks he has it: the packet of papers he put in his breast pocket while he and his mother were searching the chest. Mr. Dance offers to take it. Jim wants to give it to Doctor Livesey. Mr. Dance immediately agrees , and offers to bring Jim with him when he reports the incident to Doctor Livesey and the squire, who is a local leader in the system of England's landed gentry. So Jim and Mr. Dance set out to Doctor Livesey's house.


prompt:
Chapter: THE CAPTAIN'S PAPERS

We rode hard all the way, till we drew up before Doctor Livesey's door.
The house was all dark to the front.

Mr. Dance told me to jump down and knock, and Dogger gave me a stirrup
to descend by. The door was opened almost at once by the maid.

"Is Doctor Livesey in?" I asked.

"No," she said. He had come home in the afternoon, but had gone up to
the Hall to dine and pass the evening with the squire.

"So there we go, boys," said Mr. Dance.

This time, as the distance was short, I did not mount, but ran with
Dogger's stirrup-leather to the lodge gates, and up the long, leafless,
moonlit avenue to where the white line of the Hall buildings looked on
either hand on great old gardens. Here Mr. Dance dismounted and, taking
me along with him, was admitted at a word into the house.

The servant led us down a matted passage, and showed us at the end into
a great library, all lined with bookcases and busts upon top of them,
where the squire and Doctor Livesey sat, pipe in hand, on either side of
a bright fire.

I had never seen the squire so near at hand. He was a tall man, over six
feet high, and broad in proportion, and he had a bluff, rough-and-ready
face, all roughened and reddened and lined in his long travels. His
eyebrows were very black, and moved readily, and this gave him a look of
some temper, not bad, you would say, but quick and high.

"Come in, Mr. Dance," said he, very stately and condescending.

"Good evening, Dance," said the doctor, with a nod. "And good evening to
you, friend Jim. What good wind brings you here?"

The supervisor stood up straight and stiff, and told his story like a
lesson; and you should have seen how the two gentlemen leaned forward
and looked at each other, and forgot to smoke in their surprise and
interest. When they heard how my mother went back to the inn, Doctor
Livesey fairly slapped his thigh, and the squire cried "Bravo!" and
broke his long pipe against the grate. Long before it was done, Mr.
Trelawney (that, you will remember, was the squire's name) had got up
from his seat, and was striding about the room, and the doctor, as if to
hear the better, had taken off his powdered wig, and sat there, looking
very strange indeed with his own close-cropped, black poll.

At last Mr. Dance finished the story.

"Mr. Dance," said the squire, "you are a very noble fellow. And as for
riding down that black, atrocious miscreant, I regard it as an act of
virtue, sir, like stamping on a cockroach. This lad Hawkins is a trump,
I perceive. Hawkins, will you ring that bell? Mr. Dance must have some
ale."

"And so, Jim," said the doctor, "you have the thing that they were
after, have you?"

"Here it is, sir," said I, and gave him the oilskin packet.

The doctor looked it all over, as if his fingers were itching to open
it; but, instead of doing that, he put it quietly in the pocket of his
coat.

"Squire," said he, "when Dance has had his ale he must, of course, be
off on his Majesty's service; but I mean to keep Jim Hawkins here to
sleep at my house, and, with your permission, I propose we should have
up the cold pie, and let him sup."

"As you will, Livesey," said the squire; "Hawkins has earned better than
cold pie."

So a big pigeon pie was brought in and put on a side-table, and I made a
hearty supper, for I was as hungry as a hawk, while Mr. Dance was
further complimented, and at last dismissed.

"And now, squire," said the doctor.

"And now, Livesey," said the squire, in the same breath.

"One at a time, one at a time," laughed Doctor Livesey. "You have heard
of this Flint, I suppose?"

"Heard of him!" cried the squire. "Heard of him, you say! He was the
blood-thirstiest buccaneer that sailed. Blackbeard was a child to Flint.
The Spaniards were so prodigiously afraid of him that, I tell you, sir,
I was sometimes proud he was an Englishman. I've seen his topsails with
these eyes, off Trinidad, and the cowardly son of a rum-puncheon that I
sailed with put back--put back, sir, into Port of Spain."

"Well, I've heard of him myself, in England," said the doctor. "But the
point is, had he money?"

"Money!" cried the squire. "Have you heard the story? What were these
villains after but money? What do they care for but money? For what
would they risk their rascal carcasses but money?"

"That we shall soon know," replied the doctor. "But you are so
confoundedly hot-headed and exclamatory that I cannot get a word in.
What I want to know is this: Supposing that I have here in my pocket
some clue to where Flint buried his treasure, will that treasure amount
to much?"

"Amount, sir!" cried the squire. "It will amount to this: If we have the
clue you talk about, I'll fit out a ship in Bristol dock, and take you
and Hawkins here along, and I'll have that treasure if I search a year."

"Very well," said the doctor. "Now, then, if Jim is agreeable, we'll
open the packet," and he laid it before him on the table.

The bundle was sewn together, and the doctor had to get out his
instrument case and cut the stitches with his medical scissors. It
contained two things--a book and a sealed paper.

"First of all we'll try the book," observed the doctor.

The squire and I were both peering over his shoulder as he opened it,
for Doctor Livesey had kindly motioned me to come round from the
side-table, where I had been eating, to enjoy the sport of the search.
On the first page there were only some scraps of writing, such as a man
with a pen in his hand might make for idleness or practice. One was the
same as the tattoo mark, "Billy Bones his fancy"; then there was "Mr. W.
Bones, mate," "No more rum," "Off Palm Key he got itt," and some other
snatches, mostly single words and unintelligible. I could not help
wondering who it was that had "got itt," and what "itt" was that he got.
A knife in his back as like as not.

"Not much instruction there," said Doctor Livesey, as he passed on.

The next ten or twelve pages were filled with a curious series of
entries. There was a date at one end of the line and at the other a sum
of money, as in common account-books; but instead of explanatory
writing, only a varying number of crosses between the two. On the 12th
of June, 1745, for instance, a sum of seventy pounds had plainly become
due to someone, and there was nothing but six crosses to explain the
cause. In a few cases, to be sure, the name of a place would be added,
as "Offe Caraccas"; or a mere entry of latitude and longitude, as "62
deg. 17' 20", 19 deg. 2' 40"."

The record lasted over nearly twenty years, the amount of the separate
entries growing larger as time went on, and at the end a grand total had
been made out, after five or six wrong additions, and these words
appended, "Bones, his pile."

"I can't make head or tail of this," said Doctor Livesey.

"The thing is as clear as noonday," cried the squire. "This is the
black-hearted hound's account-book. These crosses stand for the names of
ships or towns that they sank or plundered. The sums are the scoundrel's
share, and where he feared an ambiguity, you see he added something
clearer. 'Offe Caraccas,' now; you see, here was some unhappy vessel
boarded off that coast. God help the poor souls that manned her--coral
long ago."

"Right!" said the doctor. "See what it is to be a traveler. Right! And
the amounts increase, you see, as he rose in rank."

There was little else in the volume but a few bearings of places noted
in the blank leaves toward the end, and a table for reducing French,
English, and Spanish moneys to a common value.

"Thrifty man!" cried the doctor. "He wasn't the one to be cheated."

"And now," said the squire, "for the other."

The paper had been sealed in several places with a thimble by way of
seal; the very thimble, perhaps, that I had found in the captain's
pocket. The doctor opened the seals with great care, and there fell out
the map of an island, with latitude and longitude, soundings, names of
hills and bays and inlets, and every particular that would be needed to
bring a ship to a safe anchorage upon its shores. It was about nine
miles long and five across, shaped, you might say, like a fat dragon
standing up, and had two fine landlocked harbors, and a hill in the
center part marked "The Spy-glass." There were several additions of a
later date; but, above all, three crosses of red ink--two on the north
part of the island, one in the southwest, and, beside this last, in the
same red ink, and in a small, neat hand, very different from the
captain's tottery characters, these words: "Bulk of treasure here."

Over on the back the same hand had written this further information:

    "Tall tree, Spy-glass shoulder, bearing a point to the N. of N.N.E.

    "Skeleton Island E.S.E. and by E.

    "Ten feet.

    "The bar silver is in the north cache; you can find it by the trend
    of the east hummock, ten fathoms south of the black crag with the
    face on it.

    "The arms are easy found, in the sandhill, N. point of north inlet
    cape, bearing E. and a quarter N.

                                                                 "J. F."

That was all, but brief as it was, and, to me, incomprehensible, it
filled the squire and Doctor Livesey with delight.

"Livesey," said the squire, "you will give up this wretched practice at
once. To-morrow I start for Bristol. In three weeks' time--three
weeks!--two weeks--ten days--we'll have the best ship, sir, and the
choicest crew in England. Hawkins shall come as cabin-boy. You'll make a
famous cabin-boy, Hawkins. You, Livesey, are ship's doctor; I am
admiral. We'll take Redruth, Joyce, and Hunter. We'll have favorable
winds, a quick passage, and not the least difficulty in finding the
spot, and money to eat--to roll in--to play duck and drake with ever
after."

"Trelawney," said the doctor, "I'll go with you; and I'll go bail for
it, so will Jim, and be a credit to the undertaking. There's only one
man I'm afraid of."

"And who's that?" cried the squire. "Name the dog, sir!"

"You," replied the doctor, "for you cannot hold your tongue. We are not
the only men who know of this paper. These fellows who attacked the inn
to-night--bold, desperate blades, for sure--and the rest who stayed
aboard that lugger, and more, I dare say, not far off, are, one and all,
through thick and thin, bound that they'll get that money. We must none
of us go alone till we get to sea. Jim and I shall stick together in the
meanwhile; you'll take Joyce and Hunter when you ride to Bristol, and,
from first to last, not one of us must breathe a word of what we've
found."

"Livesey," returned the squire, "you are always in the right of it. I'll
be as silent as the grave."

PART II

THE SEA-COOK

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Doctor Livesey isn't at home. Jim and Mr. Dance find Doctor Livesey at the squire's house. The squire is named Mr. Trelawney. Mr. Dance tells Squire Trelawney the whole story about the men who invaded the Admiral Benbow Inn, Jim and his mother running away, both of them heading back on their own when the villagers wouldn't help, and the fortunate arrival of Mr. Dance and his men. Doctor Livesey asks Jim to hand over the packet of papers. He takes it and puts it unopened in his coat pocket. Doctor Livesey suggests that Mr. Dance head back to his duties. He wants Jim to spend the night at his house. When Mr. Dance leaves, Doctor Livesey and Squire Trelawney start talking. They've both heard of Captain Flint: "the bloodthirstiest buccaneer that sailed" . Doctor Livesey is the first to come out and say that he thinks the packet of papers includes a treasure map. Squire Trelawney promises that, if there is a map, he'll hire a ship to take Doctor Livesey, Jim, and himself on a treasure hunt. Doctor Livesey opens the packet. It contains a book and a sealed piece of paper. The book doesn't seem to offer much in terms of obvious directions. Squire Trelawney is the one who figures out that it's an account book: it has all of the captain's wages from when he first started as a pirate to much larger sums now. The sealed paper includes something much more promising: a map of an island with three crosses of red ink, two on the northern part and one in the southwest. Next to the southwest cross it says: "Bulk of treasure here" . The handwriting on the map is different from the captain's. It also contains some more specific directions that Jim can't understand. Squire Trelawney tells Doctor Livesey to give up his medical practice right now: they're going to sail away looking for treasure in three weeks' time. Jim gets to come too, as cabin boy. Doctor Livesey agrees happily, but he warns Squire Trelawney under no circumstances to tell anyone where they're going. Squire Trelawney promises not to breathe a word.


prompt:
Chapter: I GO TO BRISTOL

It was longer than the squire imagined ere we were ready for the sea,
and none of our first plans--not even Doctor 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 Doctor 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 every one in Bristol,
    as soon as they got wind of the port we sailed for--treasure, I
    mean."

"Redruth," said I, interrupting the letter, "Doctor 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 Doctor Livesey, I should think."

At that I gave up all attempt 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 to me
    absurdly high--the most transparent calumnies. None of them dare,
    however, to deny the merits of the ship.

    "So 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.

    "I was standing on the dock, when, by the merest accident, I fell in
    talk with him. I found he was an old sailor, kept a public house,
    knew all the seafaring men in Bristol, had lost his health ashore,
    and wanted a good berth as cook to get to sea again. He had hobbled
    down there that morning, he said, to get a smell of the salt.

    "I was monstrously touched--so would you have been--and, out of pure
    pity, I engaged him on the spot to be ship's cook. Long John Silver
    he is called, and has lost a leg; but that I regarded as a
    recommendation, since he lost it in his country's service, under the
    immortal Hawke. He has no pension, Livesey. Imagine the abominable
    age we live in!

    "Well, sir, I thought I had only found a cook, but it was a crew I
    had discovered. Between Silver and myself we got together in a few
    days a company of the toughest old salts imaginable--not pretty to
    look at, but fellows, by their faces, of the most indomitable
    spirit. I declare we could fight a frigate.

    "Long John even got rid of two out of the six or seven I had already
    engaged. He showed me in a moment that they were just the sort of
    fresh-water swabs we had to fear in an adventure of importance.

    "I am in the most magnificent health and spirits, eating like a
    bull, sleeping like a tree, yet I shall not enjoy a moment till I
    hear my old tarpaulins tramping round the capstan. Seaward ho! Hang
    the treasure! It's the glory of the sea that has turned my head. So
    now, Livesey, come post; do not lose an hour, if you respect me.

    "Let young Hawkins go at once to see his mother, with Redruth for a
    guard, and then both come full speed to Bristol.

                                                        "JOHN TRELAWNEY.

    "P.S.--I did not tell you that Blandly, who, by the way, is to send
    a consort after us if we don't turn up by the end of August, had
    found an admirable fellow for sailing-master--a stiff man, which I
    regret, but, in all other respects, a treasure. Long John Silver
    unearthed a very competent man for a mate, a man named Arrow. I have
    a boatswain who pipes, Livesey; so things shall go man-o'-war
    fashion on board the good ship _Hispaniola_.

    "I forgot to tell you that Silver is a man of substance; I know of
    my own knowledge that he has a banker's account, which has never
    been overdrawn. He leaves his wife to manage the inn; and as she is
    a woman of color, a pair of old bachelors like you and I may be
    excused for guessing that it is the wife, quite as much as the
    health, that sends him back to roving.

                                                                  "J. T.

    "P.P.S.--Hawkins may stay one night with his mother.

                                                                 "J. T."

You can fancy the excitement into which that letter put me. I was half
beside myself with glee, and if ever I despised a man, it was old Tom
Redruth, who could do nothing but grumble and lament. Any of the
under-gamekeepers would gladly have changed places with him; but such
was not the squire's pleasure, and the squire's pleasure was like law
among them all. Nobody but old Redruth would have dared so much as even
to grumble.

The next morning he and I set out on foot for the "Admiral Benbow," and
there I found my mother in good health and spirits. The captain, who had
so long been a cause of so much discomfort, was gone where the wicked
cease from troubling. The squire had had everything repaired, and the
public rooms and the sign repainted, and had added some furniture--above
all a beautiful armchair for mother in the bar. He had found her a boy
as an apprentice also, so that she should not want help while I was
gone.

It was on seeing that boy that I understood, for the first time, my
situation. I had thought up to that moment of the adventures before me,
not at all of the home that I was leaving; and now at sight of this
clumsy stranger, who was to stay here in my place beside my mother, I
had my first attack of tears. I am afraid I led that boy a dog's life;
for as he was new to the work, I had a hundred opportunities of setting
him right and putting him down, and I was not slow to profit by them.

The night passed, and the next day, after dinner, Redruth and I were
afoot again and on the road. I said good-by to mother and the cove where
I had lived since I was born, and the dear old "Admiral Benbow"--since
he was repainted, no longer quite so dear. One of my last thoughts was
of the captain, who had so often strode along the beach with his cocked
hat, his saber-cut cheek, and his old brass telescope. Next moment we
had turned the corner, and my home was out of sight.

The mail picked us up about dusk at the "Royal George" on the heath. I
was wedged in between Redruth and a stout old gentleman, and in spite of
the swift motion and the cold night air, I must have dozed a great deal
from the very first, and then slept like a log up hill and down dale,
through stage after stage; for when I was awakened at last, it was by a
punch in the ribs, and I opened my eyes to find that we were standing
still before a large building in a city street, and that the day had
already broken a long time.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Bristol," said Tom. "Get down."

Mr. Trelawney had taken up his residence at an inn far down the docks,
to superintend the work upon the schooner. Thither we had now to walk,
and our way, to my great delight, lay along the quays and beside the
great multitude of ships of all sizes and rigs and nations. In one,
sailors were singing at their work; in another, there were men aloft,
high over my head, hanging to threads that seemed no thicker than a
spider's. Though I had lived by the shore all my life, I seemed never to
have been near the sea till then. The smell of tar and salt was
something new. I saw the most wonderful figureheads, that had all been
far over the ocean. I saw, besides, many old sailors, with rings in
their ears, and whiskers curled in ringlets, and tarry pig-tails, and
their swaggering, clumsy sea-walk; and if I had seen as many kings or
archbishops I could not have been more delighted.

And I was going to sea myself; to sea in a schooner, with a piping
boatswain, and pig-tailed singing seamen; to sea, bound for an unknown
island, and to seek for buried treasure.

While I was still in this delightful dream, we came suddenly in front of
a large inn, and met Squire Trelawney, all dressed out like a sea
officer, in stout blue cloth, coming out of the door with a smile on his
face, and a capital imitation of a sailor's walk.

"Here you are!" he cried; "and the doctor came last night from London.
Bravo!--the ship's company complete."

"Oh, sir," cried I, "when do we sail?"

"Sail!" says he. "We sail to-morrow."

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: So preparations begin for their sea voyage, but nothing goes quite as planned. Doctor Livesey goes to London to find another doctor to cover for him while he's away, and Squire Trelawney goes to Bristol to arrange for their ship. Jim is left behind to imagine what the map is going to lead them to. Finally he gets a letter from Squire Trelawney. The letter is addressed to Doctor Livesey, but there's a note that says Jim can open it if Doctor Livesey is away. Squire Trelawney has found them a ship. It's called the Hispaniola, named after the Caribbean island that's home to the modern states of Haiti and the Dominican Republic. Unfortunately, in hiring this ship, Squire Trelawney has also told everyone in Bristol that he's on a treasure hunt. Jim knows that Squire Trelawney's chattiness won't make Doctor Livesey happy. Tom Redruth, one of the squire's servants, who is reading the letter alongside Jim, thinks Squire Trelawney should be allowed to do whatever he wants since he's a squire. Jim reads on: Squire Trelawney has had some trouble finding a crew for the ship. One day, Squire Trelawney got lucky: an elderly sailor with one leg approached him. The man is a cook and wants to go out on one last sea voyage. The man tells Squire Trelawney that his name is Long John Silver. Squire Trelawney is impressed that the sailor has lost his leg in a British naval battle. He's sure that Long John Silver is honest. Long John Silver helps Squire Trelawney find the rest of the necessary crew, all tough-looking guys. In fact, Long John Silver is so very helpful that he convinces Squire Trelawney to fire two of the guys he had already hired because they seem to be "fresh-water swabs" - in other words, bad sailors. Squire Trelawney seems to be in a great mood. He encourages Doctor Livesey to come down to Bristol as soon as possible, along with Jim and Tom Redruth, the servant. Squire Trelawney adds one small detail: his servant Blandly is going to send a search party after the Hispaniola if he doesn't hear from the squire and Doctor Livesey by August. It's now March. All in all, Squire Trelawney seems to be regarding this whole thing as a kind of game on the high seas, and he's very excited to get going. Finishing the letter, Jim is also thrilled. He's so excited that he despises the servant, Tom Redruth, for grumbling next to him. The next morning, Jim goes to the Admiral Benbow Inn to visit his mother one last time. Squire Trelawney has had the whole inn repainted, and his mother looks happy and comfortable. The next morning, Jim sets out on his first real trip away from home. Tom and Jim arrive at Bristol the following morning. Squire Trelawney is staying at an inn near the docks. The smell of the sea fills Jim with exciting dreams of sailors and voyages and distant places. Squire Trelawney appears in front of Jim all dressed up like a naval officer. He announces that they are going to set sail the next day.