Flint and Silver: A Prequel to Treasure Island

Chapter 31

"Thank you, Brother Bones," said Flint formally, and stoodforth as the only man present still wearing his hat.

He looked around the dense-packed mass of armed and gaudily clad men, and he spoke with a strong voice that all could hear.

"The purpose of this free council," he said, "is to agree finally the plan whereby I propose that our goods be buried safe ashore in this secret place — " He pointed ashore to the green, sweltering island with its line of hills and hidden mysteries. "This wise step shall enable us to put together, in one stroke, such a fortune for each man as shall make him rich for life!" There was a stir among the men at this. The time was come for debate, and the assembled members screwed up their minds to the process.

In many ways the assembly was far more democratic than the one which sat beside Father Thames in London, for no man aboard Walrus had bought his way in, or was subservient to the will of a political party. And while those aboard Walrus had little education — only ferocious prejudices and ignorant opinions — exactly the same applied to the members at Westminster. There were even further similarities: each member had one vote, all motions were decided by simple majority, and decisions were usually arrived at by the previous and secret leverage of promises, threats and bribes: the standard practice of every legislative assembly that has ever sat in the entire history of mankind.

On occasions, however, this time-honoured system breaks down, and the debate over the burying of Walrus's goods was one such. The reason for this was that Flint — who was for the motion — had been denied access to half the members who were aboard Lion, while Silver — who was against the motion — had been denied access to the half aboard Walrus. This left only the wildly unpredictable system of members being obliged to listen to the arguments and make up their own minds on the day. But nobody should blame these gentlemen of fortune for turning to so desperate a resort, since the same thing occasionally happens even in the House of Commons.

Flint spoke first and laid out his case.

"Brothers," he said, "let's bury what we have, here and now, so we can't lose it by storm or misadventure." He paused for effect, and looked around at those present. "And most of all, my chickens, so we don't lose it by spending the whole pile during the first week in port. For isn't that what you always do?"

"Aye!" they said, and grinned and nudged one another and nodded.

"So," said Flint, "we bury the goods, then we beat up and down until we have another cargo as good as the present one, and we bury that too, and maybe another besides. And then we return, and lift the whole lot, and divide it up — fair shares for all — and then we go home to England and live like lords for the rest of our lives!"

"Aye!" they roared.

"A carriage and pair for every man!" cried Flint, and others of his men, duly prepared, joined in.

"Ten thousand acres of rolling England!"

"A great house with servants and gold plate!"

"An alderman's daughter for a wife, and a plump tart every Sunday!"

"AYE!" The hands laughed and cheered, and pressed forward to shake Flint's hand: Silver's men and Flint's together. The rivalry between the crews was vanishing like a joint of beef under a dozen carvers.

"Silence on the lower deck!" cried Billy Bones. "All hands and jolly companions give silence for Captain Silver!"

Brother Bones was at his most officious, like a lord mayor at the opening of a home for orphan paupers. He was grimly determined to be fair to all comers, no matter how undeserving. Give a man public office and he'll bust himself living up to it — at least as far as public display is concerned. So Silver stumped forward, the long crutch thumping on the deck, and his one leg swinging behind. The cheers for Flint were drowned by cheers for his rival, and Billy Bones waved his hands to hush them into silence. This was willingly given and they listened to what Long John Silver had to say.

"Brothers, one and all!" he cried. "Answer me one question and I'll haul off and not get myself athwart the hawse of this plan, no more." There was an interested murmuring about this, and a few jeers from the back, where those out of Long John's sight found the courage to oppose him. "One question, brothers," repeated Silver. Balancing on his one leg, he beat the deck twice with the stave of his crutch. "ONE QUESTION!" he cried.

Now there was even more murmuring and jeering, and Flint sneered and tickled his parrot's feathers. This didn't sound like much of a speech.

"Below hatches in this ship," said Long John, "leaving aside the bar silver…" Profound silence fell over the company. Long John had struck a spike into the one subject that overwhelmed all others in importance. "… there's such a pile in gold and silver coin as we don't even know how much it is!

Such a pile as the hold won't take no more. Such a pile as a few more drops the same would sink the bloody ship!"

He looked around and nodded to himself. Aye, you lubbers, he thought, that's made your ears stand up. He raised his voice again. "Seven years I've been a gentleman o' fortune, and others among us longer than that! And never has any man of us seen such a pile as sits below these planks!" He slammed the staff of his crutch booming down on the deck. "Lads, it's gelt that kings'd give their daughters for! It's gelt to build navies! It's gelt to raise armies!"

Flint gulped in alarm as Long John's oratory got into its stride.

"You could buy Savannah with it! You could buy Jamaica with it!" cried Long John. "You could buy half of bloody England with it!"

Silver nodded grimly; by thunder, he'd got 'em now. Their tongues were hanging down to their boots.

"There's roughly a hundred and forty of us here," he said, "leaving aside the extra shares for cap'ns and mates. But even so, the pile's so great that every man shall take enough to live out his life in rum and pickles, and pork and tarts, in his own fine house with his own servants, and his family provided for after he's gone.

"But!" he said, falling into the style that another famous speech-maker had used elsewhere, "Commodore Flint says you'd spend your share in a week, and Commodore Flint is an honourable man. So, if you'd spend that much in a week, why not twice that, or ten times that?"

Now they were nodding. Such wealth was beyond their understanding, but they'd got the main point. The likes of them would blow their pile no matter how tall it stood.

"So," said Silver, "the whole idea o' burying the goods don't make no sense, brothers. You may as well heave it over the side and mark a cross on the sea with ink, in the hope o' coming back to find it."

"Aye!" they said, and they turned and growled at Flint with the sullen, stupid faces of fools who think they've been duped.

"Avast!" cried Flint. "Avast there, mateys!"

"Silence for the commodore!" thundered Billy Bones.

"Aye!" cried a few others — those who'd believe shit was gold if Flint told them. "Let's hear the commodore!"

So Flint got a hearing. And he exerted himself mightily and worked wizardry with words. In all truth, Long John gave the better argument from first to last. But Flint was the better speaker. Flint made them laugh with jokes about one-legged men. Flint made them drool for a triple fortune. And Flint made them afraid of losing their all if they didn't bury it safe in the ground.

But more important than all of that… and the thing of all things which won the day, was the doomed, crass willingness of mankind to be seduced by beauty.

For Flint was a splendid creature and Long John was not. Flint stood firm on two legs while Silver went on a crutch. Flint was handsome and gleaming; his clothes were magnificent, his bearing and movements were graceful. Long John Silver was merely big and broad and grim… and went hopping on a wooden crutch. No man dared fight him, most would choose to follow him, every one of them respected him … but nobody wanted to be like him. And so they were going to believe Flint and spurn Silver. Flint could see it, Silver could see it, even before Flint had finished speaking.

"No man knows of this island but me," said Flint. "So nobody can touch the goods that we bury here. And as long as our goods are buried, they're safe from all harm!" So they cheered him and raised him on their shoulders and bore him round the deck in triumph. Flint threw back his head and roared with laughter and his parrot screeched and flapped in alarm.

Long John thumped and staggered through the crowd and found a quiet corner. He threw his hat on the deck in anger, and he cursed and drew out his handkerchief and mopped the sweat from his face. His hands were shaking with anger.

"John," said a voice at his side. It was Selena, tugging at his arm. She looked up at him in amazement. "Why'd they believe him?" she said, raising her small voice to be heard over the din. "It don't make no sense."

"Neither don't it!" said Silver, and looked away in helpless disgust as the men began to bawl out the words of Flint's song in celebration.

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest — "

"Why didn't they listen to you?" said Selena.

"Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum — "

"'Cos they ain't got the brains of a louse between 'em!"

"Drink and the devil had done for the rest — "

"Why's Flint doing this?"

"Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum…"

"Buggered if I know, lass."

He sighed and looked at her, and even in that miserable moment he was pierced by her youth and by the sweet loveliness of her face. He raised a hand to stroke her cheek, and summoned a smile. It was as much of a smile as he could manage, and it didn't amount to much. But she put her hand on his and smiled back.

"Won't you ask how I am?" she said. "Didn't you miss me?"

"Miss you?" he said. "My little chicky, there weren't never a moment I didn't think of you." He frowned, and struggled, and dared to ask: "Did he… did that sod…?"

"No!" she said. "I told you, he's never touched me. No man has, but you."

Silver put an arm around her and managed a real smile. But the roaring mob rolled past at that moment, with Flint shoulder-high grinning down upon him. Seeing the two of them together, he cried:

"Don't worry, John! I kept her warm for you! In fact I kept her hot. You just ask the little trollop!" He laughed till the spittle half-choked him, and Silver's face went white with fury and he snatched for his pistols, but Flint was swept away on the instant.

Flint laughed till he ached. He laughed till his head hurt. He laughed so hard that he nearly ruptured himself. It was… so…very… funny. Everything Silver had said was true! It was nonsense to bury the goods. It was nonsense for the lower deck to save for a bigger pile. The drunken, whoring, feckless scum would blow the lot in days — even if it stood as high as mountains. There was no point in them burying their treasure. It was nonsense, nonsense, nonsense! At least it was nonsense for everyone except Joe Flint, who had his own plans for the treasure. Plans that did not involve dividing it by so large a figure as one hundred and forty-seven — the precise number of living souls aboard both ships, not counting the six boys and Selena.

At the other side of the roaring vortex of men, Selena was shouting into Silver's ear, trying to be heard, and him leaning down to listen.

"John! John!" she said, and she reached up and seized his face and made him look at her. If he'd had any sense, he'd have listened to her and believed her, but his whole body was full of anger; anger at his defeat when he knew he was right, and anger and mad jealousy at Flint's claim that he'd had his way with her. She shouted louder:

"He didn't touch me!"

"That ain't what he said!"

"Who'd you believe? Him or me? He doesn't want me!"

"Bugger that! What man wouldn't want you?"

"He doesn't!"

"Bugger that too! You said he ain't no shirt-lifter!"

"Yes!"

"So? What does he do? Just look at you?"

"Yes!"

"Just that?"

"He looks at me and… and… plays with himself."

"What? And you let him?"

Selena blinked. She realised that that was exactly what she did do. Aboard Walrus, Flint was god and his power kept her safe from the attentions of dozens of savages whose expressions made it perfectly clear what they would do to her if Flint weren't there. So she didn't dare anger Flint. She didn't dare confront him with his… Boxing the Jesuit, that's what they called it; by chance she'd come across some of the ship's boys indulging in this pursuit in a dark corner, and they'd named it and given her the final and complete understanding of Captain Flint's desires where matters of the flesh were concerned.

Those were her thoughts, but all he saw was her failure to meet his eyes.

"So!" he said. "And you're the one that ain't no whore."

Selena hung her head. She turned and walked away. The wound Silver had just inflicted was painful beyond bearing. Silver watched her go and all his righteous anger drained away, leaving the growing realisation that he'd just made an appalling mistake. He charged after her, knocking down any man who got in his way.

"Selena!" he cried. "Selena!" And he poured out words that at first brought laughter from those around, especially from Flint when the spectacle was pointed out to him. But then Flint stopped laughing. He felt the shame of an enemy who'd been such a friend. Soon the whole ship stared silently, for even pirates had their limits. Even they knew what was right and wrong according to their own ways, and they were embarrassed at the sight of Long John Silver hopping along in the wake of a seventeen-year-old black slave-girl who totally ignored him while he begged forgiveness with the tears rolling down his cheeks.