John Drake - Skull and Bones

"Joe?" said Silver. "Where are we?"

Flint said nothing, but Warrington and Billy Bones scratched their heads and screwed up their faces in concentration.

"I think we're in the latitude of the Canaries," said Warrington.

"Maybe nearer the Cape Verde Islands," said Billy Bones.

"I think the Cape Verde Islands," said Flint, and the matter was settled.

"So what do we do?" said Silver.

"Lie to!" said Flint. "It doesn't matter what's to loo'ard: whether it be Portugal, Spain or Africa. If we hold this course, we'll be driven ashore and drowned upon it just the same! So… we'll come about, as close to the wind as she'll bear, so she's making little or no headway, and so ride out the storm."

"Begging your pardon, Mr Flint," said Warrington, "not too close to the wind. I was in a ship once that made sternway laying to, and so lost her rudder!"

Flint smiled and smiled. He smiled right into Warrington's face at this statement of the blindingly obvious.

"Oh!" said Warrington, and gulped. "Not that you'd do that, Mr Flint. Not you."

"Not I," said Flint and they all laughed.

So Walrus came about, and met the wind fine on her bow, yards braced back as far as they'd go, and heeled over mightily, which eased her motion and stopped the hideous rolling, and enabled the topmen to strike the ruins of the topsails and bend fresh sails to the yards. It even allowed the cook to light his fire again for hot food – a great comfort to the topmen when they came off watch.

Moreover it allowed John Silver to call the council of all hands that he'd been wanting ever since the ship left England, and hadn't had the chance to do. So once Walrus was steady into the wind, and all made secure as could be, he brought the men together on the lower deck, leaving only the helmsmen and lookouts on deck, under Mr Joe as officer of the watch, and all those not present having appointed trusted messmates to vote for them.

Except that Mr Joe didn't stay on deck. Once he was sure that the ship was safe – for the while – he went below by the aftermost hatchway.

"Shipmates, brothers and gentleman o' fortune," said Silver, as nearly standing as a man of his height could do under the low deckhead. The men looked back at him, crammed tight together and taking it all in: the black flag draped over a barrelhead in front of Silver, and the Book of Articles placed upon it, with pen and ink standing by. The ship's officers sat on stools and chairs on either side of Silver; and the green bird perched on his shoulder.

"We're a mixed company aboard this ship," said Silver, looking round.

"Aye!" they said.

"There's some what's sailed with me."

"Aye!"

"There's some what's sailed with Joe Flint."

"Aye!"

"Some what came aboard in Upper Barbados, and some in London."

"Aye!"

"There's those among us who've fought one another as enemies!"

"Aye!

"And even some as received sentence of death from their brothers."

Few but Billy Bones knew what this meant, and he groaned at the thought of it.

It was the old Silver. All truth. Nothing hidden. He wasn't the man he'd once been. Not any more, for he was changed. But there was much good left, including his instinctive oratory. It was measured, it was poetic, it was religious. Silver was binding them together, because they weren't the old band of Walruses: not any more. Men had come and gone. There were twenty aboard that joined in London alone, having heard tales of buried treasure. They were all prime seamen. They were already a crew. But they weren't brothers. Not yet. That was a thing of the spirit.

Mr Joe crept down a companionway towards the stern cabin. The rumble and growl of voices from the council, sounding behind him, even over the creaking grumble of the ship's timbers working in the storm. It was hard to keep his footing. The deck was heavily sloped.

He reached the door. He rapped with his knuckles. "Who is it?" she said.

"Me, ma'am… Mr Joe…" A brief pause, then the door opened, and Mr Joe gulped at the sight of her, for she was very lovely. Lovely but frowning. "What do you want?" "I want to ask you something." She looked at him and saw that he meant no harm. "Come in…" she said.

Silver reached the climax. He raised the book and read the articles aloud. The good old articles, re-drafted on fresh pages, with clean white paper beneath for signatures. He put down the book.

"So who will become a brother?" he said. "Who will be first to step forward and make his mark?" There was the briefest of silences, then Flint rose. "I will!" he said and signed.

"I will!" said Israel Hands. "And I sign for Mr Joe besides!" "And me!" said Billy Bones.

And so they signed, mostly with crosses or such little emblems – fish, daggers, serpents – as they chose, with Silver adding the man's name in these cases. Even Blind Pew signed, with Silver guiding the pen.

"So," said Silver when the signing was done, and all hands stood transformed by the mystic drama of the occasion, "we are brothers and jolly companions, and must now elect a captain. And for this matter, I stands aside, being compromised!" They laughed at that, and nudged and winked. "So I turns to Brother Hands," said Silver, "to make the proposals."

Israel Hands stood up. He stood forward and faced the men.

"Let it be Long John!" he said. "There ain't no bigger nor better man among us. Long John, say I! Long John for ever!"

Mr Joe sat down on the big bench under the stern windows. She'd lashed the chairs to the table – which was screwed to the deck – to stop them sliding in the crazily canted cabin. He looked around the cabin, then out the window at the evil grey sea heaving and wallowing just feet away. There was little light and much noise, for the sky was dark except when it was split with lightning.

"What do you want?" she said.

"I been reading, ma'am," he said.

"So?" She shrugged. "Why should that concern me?"

"You were a slave like me. You're black."

"And…?" said Selena, not pleased to be reminded of her origins, for she'd come a long way from the plantation. She'd played to thousands on the stage, and been courted by the richest man in England. Mr Joe guessed some of this, and tried again.

"Mr Hands, he's a good man. He taught me to read."

"Yes. I know."

"Did you know he got me a bible in London?"

"No."

"Well… I read about Adam and Eve."

"Yes?"

"They were the first, weren't they?"

Selena frowned. She was losing interest.

"What is your point?"

"Well, if they were the first, and we're all their children… we're all the same!"

"What do you mean?"

"Us blacks and the white folks. We're all the same!"

Flint saw Billy Bones was looking at him, as was Tom Allardyce, with his bandaged head, and some others who'd once followed Flint. But Flint looked at Long John and saw the old qualities of leadership that Silver had in such degree and he did not…

"I vote for Captain Silver!" he said in a firm voice, and all hands roared their approval.

Silver smiled, and the parrot squawked and flapped her wings.

"Cap'n Silver! Cap'n Silver! Cap'n Silver!" she cried.

"Well, Joe," said Silver, "I hope you'll be my quartermaster?"

"That I will," said Flint, and the rum was brought out.

"Here's to ourselves and hold your luff…" cried Silver.

"Plenty of prizes and plenty of duff!" cried all those who knew his favourite toast.

So Flint and Silver raised their mugs and toasted each other, and Billy Bones wept with joy.

"I got to go," said Mr Joe. He and Selena had been talking too long, and too intensely… about great things.

"What do you want?" said Selena. "In life?"

"Don't know," said Mr Joe. "I'd like to be first mate…"