It was not very long after this that there occurred the first of themysterious events that rid us at last of the captain, though not, as youwill see, of his affairs. It was a bitter cold winter, with long, hardfrosts and heavy gales; and it was plain from the first that my poorfather was little likely to see the spring. He sank daily, and my motherand I had all the inn upon our hands, and were kept busy enough withoutpaying much regard to our unpleasant guest.

It was one January morning, very early--a pinching, frosty morning--thecove 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 toseaward. The captain had risen earlier than usual, and set out down thebeach, 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. Iremember his breath hanging like smoke in his wake as he strode off, andthe last sound I heard of him, as he turned the big rock, was a loudsnort of indignation, as though his mind was still running upon DoctorLivesey.

Well, mother was upstairs with father, and I was laying the breakfasttable against the captain's return, when the parlor door opened and aman 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 hewore a cutlass, he did not look much like a fighter. I had always myeyes open for seafaring men, with one leg or two, and I remember thisone puzzled me. He was not sailorly, and yet he had a smack of the seaabout him too.

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

"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 whostayed at our house, whom we called the captain.

"Well," said he, "my mate Bill would be called the captain, as like asnot. 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 argumentlike, that your captain has a cut on one cheek--and we'll put it, if youlike, that that cheek's the right one. Ah, well! I told you. Now, is mymate 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 waslikely 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 allpleasant, and I had my own reasons for thinking that the stranger wasmistaken, even supposing he meant what he said. But it was no affair ofmine, I thought; and, besides, it was difficult to know what to do.

The stranger kept hanging about just inside the inn door, peering roundthe corner like a cat waiting for a mouse. Once I stepped out myselfinto the road, but he immediately called me back, and, as I did not obeyquick enough for his fancy, a most horrible change came over his tallowyface, and he ordered me in with an oath that made me jump. As soon as Iwas back again he returned to his former manner, half-fawning,half-sneering, patted me on the shoulder, told me I was a good boy, andhe had taken quite a fancy to me. "I have a son of my own," said he, "aslike you as two blocks, and he's all the pride of my 'art. But the greatthing for boys is discipline, sonny--discipline. Now, if you had sailedalong of Bill, you wouldn't have stood there to be spoke to twice--notyou. 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 theparlor, sonny, and get behind the door, and we'll give Bill a littlesurprise--bless his 'art, I say again."

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

At last in strode the captain, slammed the door behind him, withoutlooking to the right or left, and marched straight across the room towhere his breakfast awaited him.

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

The captain spun round on his heel and fronted us; all the brown hadgone out of his face, and even his nose was blue; he had the look of aman who sees a ghost, or the Evil One, or something worse, if anythingcan 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," saidthe stranger.

The captain made a sort of gasp.

"Black Dog!" said he.

"And who else?" returned the other, getting more at his ease. "Black Dogas ever was, come for to see his old shipmate, Billy, at the 'AdmiralBenbow' 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 tooksuch 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 ofthe captain's breakfast table--Black Dog next to the door, and sittingsideways, so as to have one eye on his old shipmate and one, as Ithought, on his retreat.

He bade me go and leave the door wide open. "None of your keyholes forme, 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 hearnothing 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 itcomes to swinging, swing all, say I."

Then all of a sudden there was a tremendous explosion of oaths and othernoises; the chair and table went over in a lump, a clash of steelfollowed, and then a cry of pain, and the next instant I saw Black Dogin full flight, and the captain hotly pursuing, both with drawncutlasses, and the former streaming blood from the left shoulder. Justat the door the captain aimed at the fugitive one last tremendous cut,which would certainly have split him to the chin had it not beenintercepted by our big signboard of "Admiral Benbow." You may see thenotch 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, anddisappeared over the edge of the hill in half a minute. The captain, forhis part, stood staring at the signboard like a bewildered man. Then hepassed his hand over his eyes several times, and at last turned backinto the house.

"Jim," says he, "rum"; and as he spoke he reeled a little, and caughthimself 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 fallenout, and I broke one glass and fouled the tap, and while I was stillgetting in my own way, I heard a loud fall in the parlor, and, runningin, beheld the captain lying full length upon the floor. At the sameinstant my mother, alarmed by the cries and fighting, came runningdownstairs to help me. Between us we raised his head. He was breathingvery loud and hard, but his eyes were closed and his face was a horriblecolor.

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

In the meantime we had no idea what to do to help the captain, nor anyother thought but that he had got his death-hurt in the scuffle with thestranger. I got the rum, to be sure, and tried to put it down histhroat, 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 Liveseycame 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 thanyou 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, nothingabout it. For my part, I must do my best to save this fellow's treblyworthless life; and, Jim, you get me a basin."

When I got back with the basin the doctor had already ripped up thecaptain's sleeve and exposed his great sinewy arm. It was tattooed inseveral places. "Here's luck," "A fair wind," and "Billy Bones, hisfancy," were very neatly and clearly executed on the forearm; and upnear the shoulder there was a sketch of a gallows and a man hanging fromit--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 atthe 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 hislancet and opened a vein.

A great deal of blood was taken before the captain opened his eyes andlooked mistily about him. First he recognized the doctor with anunmistakable frown; then his glance fell upon me, and he lookedrelieved. 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 onyour own back. You have been drinking rum; you have had a strokeprecisely 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 myacquaintance, and I call you by it for the sake of shortness, and what Ihave to say to you is this: One glass of rum won't kill you, but if youtake one you'll take another and another, and I stake my wig if youdon't break off short, you'll die--do you understand that?--die, and goto your own place, like the man in the Bible. Come, now, make aneffort. I'll help you to your bed for once."

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

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

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

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