Остров сокровищ (Сокровища капитана Флинта) (Серия 2) (44:31 mark)
Остров сокровищ (Сокровища капитана Флинта) (Серия 2) (44:31 mark)
...
-Пустить ему кровь!
-На место! Кто ты такой, Джон, чтобы здесь командовать? Может, капитан?
-Джонни верно говорит, пустить ему кровь!
-А командуют тут все, кому не лень!
-Джентльмены, кто хочет иметь дело со мной, пусть выйдет. Пусть вынет свой кортик. И я, хоть и на костыле, увижу, какого цвета у вас потроха. Прежде, чем погаснет эта трубка! Не слишком храбры? Так, слушайте! Кто тронет Джима - будет иметь дело со мной! Вы собираетесь мне что-то сказать? Ну, говорите же. Я слушаю!
-Прошу прощения, сэр! Вы в последнее время стали часто нарушать наши обычаи. Команда имеет право собраться и поговорить!
-Согласно обычаю!
-На сходку!
-Таков закон!
-Ты на волосок от смерти, Джим. Они хотят разжаловать меня. Услуга за услугу: я спасу тебя, а ты спасешь мою шею от веревки.
-Я сделаю все, что смогу! Да.
-Значит по рукам? Да, кстати, ты не знаешь, зачем доктор отдал мне карту? Тут что-то не так...
-Джон, ты низложен!
-Команда, собравшись на сходку, как велит обычай джентльменов удачи... ...вынесла решение послать тебе черную метку!
-Ха-ха! Переверни ее, как велит наш обычай, и прочти, что на ней написано!
-Тогда ты заговоришь по-иному!
-Ты низложен, Сильвер! Слезай с бочки!
-Слезай с бочки!
-Слезай, слезай!

-А теперь послушайте, что я вам скажу: вот этот мальчишка
-заложник! И он, этот мальчишка, быть может станет нашей последней надеждой.
-Ну, ладно. А доктор?
-А! Почему я отпустил его и остальных? Вот!
-Она настоящая!
-Вот подпись Флинта!
-Это
-Мертвый узел!
-Но как мы увезем сокровища?
-Ведь у нас нет корабля!
-Да!
-Это ты должен сказать. Ты и другие, кто проворонил шхуну. Я нашел вам сокровища, а вы потеряли корабль. Я не желаю быть капитаном у таких дураков. С меня довольно!
-Сильвера! Сильвера!
-Сильвера в капитаны!
-Джентльмены! Мы идем на поиски клада!
....
"Then here goes!" said Morgan with an oath.

And he sprang up, drawing his knife as if he had been twenty.

"Avast, there!" cried Silver. "Who are you, Tom Morgan? Maybe you
thought you was cap'n here, perhaps. By the powers, but I'll teach you
better! Cross me, and you'll go where many a good man's gone before you,
first and last, these thirty year back--some to the yard-arm, shiver
my timbers, and some by the board, and all to feed the fishes. There's
never a man looked me between the eyes and seen a good day a'terwards,
Tom Morgan, you may lay to that."

Morgan paused, but a hoarse murmur rose from the others.

"Tom's right," said one.

"I stood hazing long enough from one," added another. "I'll be hanged if
I'll be hazed by you, John Silver."

"Did any of you gentlemen want to have it out with ME?" roared Silver,
bending far forward from his position on the keg, with his pipe still
glowing in his right hand. "Put a name on what you're at; you ain't
dumb, I reckon. Him that wants shall get it. Have I lived this many
years, and a son of a rum puncheon cock his hat athwart my hawse at the latter end of it? You know the way; you're all gentlemen o' fortune, by
your account. Well, I'm ready. Take a cutlass, him that dares, and I'll
see the colour of his inside, crutch and all, before that pipe's empty."

Not a man stirred; not a man answered.

"That's your sort, is it?" he added, returning his pipe to his mouth.
"Well, you're a gay lot to look at, anyway. Not much worth to fight, you
ain't. P'r'aps you can understand King George's English. I'm cap'n here
by 'lection. I'm cap'n here because I'm the best man by a long sea-mile.
You won't fight, as gentlemen o' fortune should; then, by thunder,
you'll obey, and you may lay to it! I like that boy, now; I never seen
a better boy than that. He's more a man than any pair of rats of you in
this here house, and what I say is this: let me see him that'll lay a
hand on him--that's what I say, and you may lay to it."

There was a long pause after this. I stood straight up against the wall,
my heart still going like a sledge-hammer, but with a ray of hope
now shining in my bosom. Silver leant back against the wall, his arms
crossed, his pipe in the corner of his mouth, as calm as though he had
been in church; yet his eye kept wandering furtively, and he kept the
tail of it on his unruly followers. They, on their part, drew gradually
together towards the far end of the block house, and the low hiss of
their whispering sounded in my ear continuously, like a stream. One
after another, they would look up, and the red light of the torch would
fall for a second on their nervous faces; but it was not towards me, it
was towards Silver that they turned their eyes.

"You seem to have a lot to say," remarked Silver, spitting far into the
air. "Pipe up and let me hear it, or lay to."

"Ax your pardon, sir," returned one of the men; "you're pretty free with
some of the rules; maybe you'll kindly keep an eye upon the rest. This
crew's dissatisfied; this crew don't vally bullying a marlin-spike; this
crew has its rights like other crews, I'll make so free as that; and by
your own rules, I take it we can talk together. I ax your pardon, sir,
acknowledging you for to be captaing at this present; but I claim my
right, and steps outside for a council."

And with an elaborate sea-salute, this fellow, a long, ill-looking,
yellow-eyed man of five and thirty, stepped coolly towards the door and
disappeared out of the house. One after another the rest followed his
example, each making a salute as he passed, each adding some apology.

"According to rules," said one. "Forecastle council," said Morgan. And
so with one remark or another all marched out and left Silver and me
alone with the torch.

The sea-cook instantly removed his pipe.

"Now, look you here, Jim Hawkins," he said in a steady whisper that was
no more than audible, "you're within half a plank of death, and what's
a long sight worse, of torture. They're going to throw me off. But, you
mark, I stand by you through thick and thin. I didn't mean to; no, not
till you spoke up. I was about desperate to lose that much blunt, and
be hanged into the bargain. But I see you was the right sort. I says to
myself, you stand by Hawkins, John, and Hawkins'll stand by you. You're
his last card, and by the living thunder, John, he's yours! Back to
back, says I. You save your witness, and he'll save your neck!"

I began dimly to understand.

"You mean all's lost?" I asked.

"Aye, by gum, I do!" he answered. "Ship gone, neck gone--that's the
size of it. Once I looked into that bay, Jim Hawkins, and seen no
schooner--well, I'm tough, but I gave out. As for that lot and their
council, mark me, they're outright fools and cowards. I'll save your
life--if so be as I can--from them. But, see here, Jim--tit for tat--you
save Long John from swinging."

I was bewildered; it seemed a thing so hopeless he was asking--he, the
old buccaneer, the ringleader throughout.

"What I can do, that I'll do," I said.

"It's a bargain!" cried Long John. "You speak up plucky, and by thunder,
I've a chance!"

He hobbled to the torch, where it stood propped among the firewood, and
took a fresh light to his pipe.

"Understand me, Jim," he said, returning. "I've a head on my shoulders,
I have. I'm on squire's side now. I know you've got that ship safe
somewheres. How you done it, I don't know, but safe it is. I guess Hands
and O'Brien turned soft. I never much believed in neither of THEM. Now
you mark me. I ask no questions, nor I won't let others. I know when
a game's up, I do; and I know a lad that's staunch. Ah, you that's
young--you and me might have done a power of good together!"

He drew some cognac from the cask into a tin cannikin.

"Will you taste, messmate?" he asked; and when I had refused: "Well,
I'll take a drain myself, Jim," said he. "I need a caulker, for there's
trouble on hand. And talking o' trouble, why did that doctor give me the
chart, Jim?"

My face expressed a wonder so unaffected that he saw the needlessness of
further questions.

"Ah, well, he did, though," said he. "And there's something under that,
no doubt--something, surely, under that, Jim--bad or good."

And he took another swallow of the brandy, shaking his great fair head
like a man who looks forward to the worst.

29

The Black Spot Again

THE council of buccaneers had lasted some time, when one of them
re-entered the house, and with a repetition of the same salute, which
had in my eyes an ironical air, begged for a moment's loan of the torch.
Silver briefly agreed, and this emissary retired again, leaving us
together in the dark.

"There's a breeze coming, Jim," said Silver, who had by this time
adopted quite a friendly and familiar tone.

I turned to the loophole nearest me and looked out. The embers of the
great fire had so far burned themselves out and now glowed so low and
duskily that I understood why these conspirators desired a torch. About
half-way down the slope to the stockade, they were collected in a group;
one held the light, another was on his knees in their midst, and I saw
the blade of an open knife shine in his hand with varying colours in
the moon and torchlight. The rest were all somewhat stooping, as though
watching the manoeuvres of this last. I could just make out that he
had a book as well as a knife in his hand, and was still wondering how
anything so incongruous had come in their possession when the kneeling
figure rose once more to his feet and the whole party began to move
together towards the house.

"Here they come," said I; and I returned to my former position, for it
seemed beneath my dignity that they should find me watching them.

"Well, let 'em come, lad--let 'em come," said Silver cheerily. "I've
still a shot in my locker."

The door opened, and the five men, standing huddled together just
inside, pushed one of their number forward. In any other circumstances
it would have been comical to see his slow advance, hesitating as he set
down each foot, but holding his closed right hand in front of him.

"Step up, lad," cried Silver. "I won't eat you. Hand it over, lubber. I
know the rules, I do; I won't hurt a depytation."

Thus encouraged, the buccaneer stepped forth more briskly, and having
passed something to Silver, from hand to hand, slipped yet more smartly
back again to his companions.

The sea-cook looked at what had been given him.

"The black spot! I thought so," he observed. "Where might you have got
the paper? Why, hillo! Look here, now; this ain't lucky! You've gone and
cut this out of a Bible. What fool's cut a Bible?"

"Ah, there!" said Morgan. "There! Wot did I say? No good'll come o'
that, I said."

"Well, you've about fixed it now, among you," continued Silver. "You'll
all swing now, I reckon. What soft-headed lubber had a Bible?"

"It was Dick," said one.

"Dick, was it? Then Dick can get to prayers," said Silver. "He's seen
his slice of luck, has Dick, and you may lay to that."

But here the long man with the yellow eyes struck in.

"Belay that talk, John Silver," he said. "This crew has tipped you the
black spot in full council, as in dooty bound; just you turn it over, as
in dooty bound, and see what's wrote there. Then you can talk."

"Thanky, George," replied the sea-cook. "You always was brisk for
business, and has the rules by heart, George, as I'm pleased to see.
Well, what is it, anyway? Ah! 'Deposed'--that's it, is it? Very pretty
wrote, to be sure; like print, I swear. Your hand o' write, George? Why,
you was gettin' quite a leadin' man in this here crew. You'll be cap'n
next, I shouldn't wonder. Just oblige me with that torch again, will
you? This pipe don't draw."

"Come, now," said George, "you don't fool this crew no more. You're a
funny man, by your account; but you're over now, and you'll maybe step
down off that barrel and help vote."

"I thought you said you knowed the rules," returned Silver
contemptuously. "Leastways, if you don't, I do; and I wait here--and I'm
still your cap'n, mind--till you outs with your grievances and I reply;
in the meantime, your black spot ain't worth a biscuit. After that,
we'll see."

"Oh," replied George, "you don't be under no kind of apprehension; WE'RE all square, we are. First, you've made a hash of this cruise--you'll be a bold man to say no to that. Second, you let the enemy out o' this here trap for nothing. Why did they want out? I dunno, but it's pretty plain
they wanted it. Third, you wouldn't let us go at them upon the march.
Oh, we see through you, John Silver; you want to play booty, that's
what's wrong with you. And then, fourth, there's this here boy."

"Is that all?" asked Silver quietly.

"Enough, too," retorted George. "We'll all swing and sun-dry for your
bungling."

"Well now, look here, I'll answer these four p'ints; one after another
I'll answer 'em. I made a hash o' this cruise, did I? Well now, you all
know what I wanted, and you all know if that had been done that we'd
'a been aboard the HISPANIOLA this night as ever was, every man of us
alive, and fit, and full of good plum-duff, and the treasure in the hold
of her, by thunder! Well, who crossed me? Who forced my hand, as was the lawful cap'n? Who tipped me the black spot the day we landed and began this dance? Ah, it's a fine dance--I'm with you there--and looks mighty like a hornpipe in a rope's end at Execution Dock by London town, it does. But who done it? Why, it was Anderson, and Hands, and you, George Merry! And you're the last above board of that same meddling crew; and you have the Davy Jones's insolence to up and stand for cap'n over me--you, that sank the lot of us! By the powers! But this tops the stiffest yarn to nothing."

Silver paused, and I could see by the faces of George and his late
comrades that these words had not been said in vain.

"That's for number one," cried the accused, wiping the sweat from his
brow, for he had been talking with a vehemence that shook the house.
"Why, I give you my word, I'm sick to speak to you. You've neither sense
nor memory, and I leave it to fancy where your mothers was that let you
come to sea. Sea! Gentlemen o' fortune! I reckon tailors is your trade."

"Go on, John," said Morgan. "Speak up to the others."

"Ah, the others!" returned John. "They're a nice lot, ain't they? You
say this cruise is bungled. Ah! By gum, if you could understand how bad
it's bungled, you would see! We're that near the gibbet that my neck's
stiff with thinking on it. You've seen 'em, maybe, hanged in chains,
birds about 'em, seamen p'inting 'em out as they go down with the tide.
'Who's that?' says one. 'That! Why, that's John Silver. I knowed him
well,' says another. And you can hear the chains a-jangle as you go
about and reach for the other buoy. Now, that's about where we are,
every mother's son of us, thanks to him, and Hands, and Anderson, and
other ruination fools of you. And if you want to know about number four,
and that boy, why, shiver my timbers, isn't he a hostage? Are we a-going
to waste a hostage? No, not us; he might be our last chance, and I
shouldn't wonder. Kill that boy? Not me, mates! And number three? Ah,
well, there's a deal to say to number three. Maybe you don't count it
nothing to have a real college doctor to see you every day--you, John,
with your head broke--or you, George Merry, that had the ague shakes
upon you not six hours agone, and has your eyes the colour of lemon peel to this same moment on the clock? And maybe, perhaps, you didn't know there was a consort coming either? But there is, and not so long till
then; and we'll see who'll be glad to have a hostage when it comes to
that. And as for number two, and why I made a bargain--well, you came
crawling on your knees to me to make it--on your knees you came, you was that downhearted--and you'd have starved too if I hadn't--but that's a
trifle! You look there--that's why!"

And he cast down upon the floor a paper that I instantly
recognized--none other than the chart on yellow paper, with the three
red crosses, that I had found in the oilcloth at the bottom of the
captain's chest. Why the doctor had given it to him was more than I
could fancy.

But if it were inexplicable to me, the appearance of the chart was
incredible to the surviving mutineers. They leaped upon it like cats
upon a mouse. It went from hand to hand, one tearing it from another;
and by the oaths and the cries and the childish laughter with which they
accompanied their examination, you would have thought, not only they
were fingering the very gold, but were at sea with it, besides, in
safety.

"Yes," said one, "that's Flint, sure enough. J. F., and a score below,
with a clove hitch to it; so he done ever."

"Mighty pretty," said George. "But how are we to get away with it, and
us no ship."

Silver suddenly sprang up, and supporting himself with a hand against
the wall: "Now I give you warning, George," he cried. "One more word
of your sauce, and I'll call you down and fight you. How? Why, how do I
know? You had ought to tell me that--you and the rest, that lost me my
schooner, with your interference, burn you! But not you, you can't; you
hain't got the invention of a cockroach. But civil you can speak, and
shall, George Merry, you may lay to that."

"That's fair enow," said the old man Morgan.

"Fair! I reckon so," said the sea-cook. "You lost the ship; I found the
treasure. Who's the better man at that? And now I resign, by thunder!
Elect whom you please to be your cap'n now; I'm done with it."

"Silver!" they cried. "Barbecue forever! Barbecue for cap'n!"

"So that's the toon, is it?" cried the cook. "George, I reckon you'll
have to wait another turn, friend; and lucky for you as I'm not a
revengeful man. But that was never my way. And now, shipmates, this
black spot? 'Tain't much good now, is it? Dick's crossed his luck and
spoiled his Bible, and that's about all."

"It'll do to kiss the book on still, won't it?" growled Dick, who was
evidently uneasy at the curse he had brought upon himself.

"A Bible with a bit cut out!" returned Silver derisively. "Not it. It
don't bind no more'n a ballad-book."

"Don't it, though?" cried Dick with a sort of joy. "Well, I reckon
that's worth having too."

"Here, Jim--here's a cur'osity for you," said Silver, and he tossed me
the paper.

It was around about the size of a crown piece. One side was blank,
for it had been the last leaf; the other contained a verse or two of
Revelation--these words among the rest, which struck sharply home upon
my mind: "Without are dogs and murderers." The printed side had been
blackened with wood ash, which already began to come off and soil my
fingers; on the blank side had been written with the same material the
one word "Depposed." ...

Treasure Island.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PiAlDKyedJc#t=44m31s

Labels: Oleg Zabluda

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