In the Enemy’s Camp

           Theredglareofthetorch,lightinguptheinterioroftheblockhouse,showedmetheworstofmyapprehensionsrealized.Thepirateswereinpossessionofthehouseandstores:therewasthecaskofcognac,thereweretheporkandbread,asbefore,andwhattenfoldincreasedmyhorror,notasignofanyprisoner.Icouldonlyjudgethatallhadperished,andmyheartsmotemesorelythatIhadnotbeentheretoperishwiththem.

           Thereweresixofthebuccaneers,alltold;notanothermanwasleftalive.Fiveofthemwereontheirfeet,flushedandswollen,suddenlycalledoutofthefirstsleepofdrunkenness.Thesixthhadonlyrisenuponhiselbow;hewasdeadlypale,andtheblood-stainedbandageroundhisheadtoldthathehadrecentlybeenwounded,andstillmorerecentlydressed.Irememberedthemanwhohadbeenshotandhadrunbackamongthewoodsinthegreatattack,anddoubtednotthatthiswashe.

           Theparrotsat,preeningherplumage,onLongJohn’sshoulder.Hehimself,Ithought,lookedsomewhatpalerandmoresternthanIwasusedto.Hestillworethefinebroadclothsuitinwhichhehadfulfilledhismission,butitwasbitterlytheworseforwear,daubedwithclayandtornwiththesharpbriersofthewood.

           "So,"saidhe,"here’sJimHawkins,shivermytimbers!Droppedin,like,eh?Well,come,Itakethatfriendly."

           Andthereuponhesatdownacrossthebrandycaskandbegantofillapipe.

           "Givemealoanofthelink,Dick,"saidhe;andthen,whenhehadagoodlight,"That’lldo,lad,"headded;"stickthegliminthewoodheap;andyou,gentlemen,bringyourselvesto!