PART ONE: The Old Buccaneer
Chapter 2: Black Dog Appears and Disappears
(continued)
"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 colour 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 colour 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.
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