PART ONE: The Old Buccaneer
Chapter 3: The Black Spot
(continued)
"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."
And 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 parlour, where our 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 of the blind beggar that I forgot my
terror of the captain, and as I opened the parlour door,
cried out the words he had ordered in a trembling voice.
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