John Drake - Flint and Silver

When Cowdray was done, he washed his hands in a bowl, rolled down his sleeves and came and smiled at his patient.

"Well, sir!" said he, unconsciously adopting the manners he'd used so long ago to respectable patients in his private practice: merchants, aldermen, even noblemen. "It is my pleasure to be able to promise you a good recovery, and it is in my mind to have you up and about for the fresh air. What d'you think of that, sir?"

"Aye," said Israel Hands, "the lads'd like that. What say you, Long John?"

Long John hesitated. Even the bravest of men are worn down by constant pain, and he was afraid of being hurt if they moved him. Cowdray recognised this at once.

"Mr Hands," said he, "bring another two men so we can hoist him up in his hammock without jolting or disturbing him. And be so good as to have all made ready above."

Hands frowned. He was not accustomed to taking orders from a sawbones. He looked instinctively to Long John.

"Aye," said Silver weakly.

So up he went in his hammock, still sickly and dizzy, but with no pain as four men shouldered a spar with the hammock slung beneath it and got him up on deck with the wonderful agility that sailormen have for shifting awkward loads. And it was worth the effort. Long John's spirits soared. The air was sweet and clean on the quarterdeck after weeks of hot confinement below decks. He could smell the salt breeze and see the fullness of the sails as they drove the ship on. He could see the gulls that hung in her wake.

Best of all, the men cheered as he appeared on deck. They crowded round him, laughing and joking and offering him fruits and grog. Tears came to Long John's eyes and he was perilously close to breaking into sobs at the sincerity of a greeting which was motivated purely by the pleasure of seeing him. Even Flint's followers were cheering. Just for that instant, the whole ship was united in happiness.

Then, as Jobo and Israel Hands made fast the hammock to a cradle rigged at the taffrail, Selena and Flint joined the crowd. Both were smiling and Long John wondered what might have passed between them. The thought was a dark cloud over the sun – and a solid bank of thunder was coming up astern of it.

"John!" cried Flint. "Here's yourself come up on deck to see us at last! How are you, shipmate?" Flint noticed Long John's eyes flicking between Selena and himself. He smiled his wolf-head smile and tickled the green plumage of his parrot. "Selena and I were just discussing my plan to bury our goods on that old island I've told you about."

Flint paused to enjoy the anger swelling in the face of his helpless enemy. "D'you remember that old plan of mine, John?" He smiled and smiled. "Ah yes," he said, "I see by the look of you that you do. Doubtless you'll be delighted to learn that Mr Bones and I are taking this ship to the island for that very purpose."

"God damn you for a bloody rogue!" said Silver, too weak to make an argument, too tired to muster the words, and almost too sick to care.

Flint stared. He saw the effect of his words and almost took a step forward. But he didn't. After all, he'd aimed to wound, and he'd hit the mark. He'd hit it fair and square. Silver groaned at his own weakness and his jaw trembled in self-pity. But then Flint's shot rebounded. There was a surly murmur from the men. Faces scowled and brows furrowed. None of them were entirely sure what was going on, but they could see that it upset the hero of the hour, and they didn't like it.

"Don't you mind, Long John!" said one.

"Long John!" said another. "He's the boy!"

There was something close to a cheer. Better still, Selena left Flint and came and stood by Silver. She didn't say anything, but she put a hand on his shoulder, just to show that she was now with him facing Flint, rather than the other way around, and that encouraged Silver so wonderfully that it became Flint's turn to scowl.

A week later, Silver's recovery was so far advanced, and his strength so much restored, that Mr Cowdray took a risk and brought forward a moment that in lesser men would have been delayed for months.

Long John was standing upright. He was upright, but he sweated and trembled and the ship heaved beneath him. As she rolled, he, who'd never been seasick since a child, shuddered with nausea. He retched and gasped, though the breeze was steady and the seas calm, and Walrus rode the waves like the thoroughbred she was.

All around they yelled and roared and urged him on.

"With a will, John!"

"Come on, shipmate!"

"Handsomely now, Long John!"

"Step out, John!"

"You show 'em, John!"

Long John saw that even Flint was there, and seemed sincere in his encouragement. Certainly Billy Bones and the rest of Flint's faction were intermingled with Long John's men, clapping and stamping and whistling as honest as could be.

Long John held his breath. He found his moment of courage and shook off Mr Cowdray's arm from one side and Jobo's from the other. He braced his back against the weather bulwark by the main shrouds and threw himself forward with the new crutch under his right arm. It was as brave a step as any he'd ever taken… and thump, scrape, thump, scrape – two staggering steps with the shock jarring up the long shaft to his armpit as the wooden tip struck the deck. Two one-legged steps and two sickening plunges forward, and then he was falling into the arms of the men crowded around the mainmast.

"Hurrah for Long John!" they cried. "Three cheers for Long John Silver!" They were all around him, shaking his hand and wishing him well. Cowdray took hold of him again and Selena shoved Jobo aside to throw her arm around him too. He felt the warmth and softness of her body, and breathed in the smell of her as she pressed close.

"Give us a hornpipe, John!" cried a voice, and the others roared their agreement.

"I'll race the best of you to the truck of the main t'gallant presently!" said Long John. Or rather, he tried to say it, but the effort was too great and the best he managed was a thin smile and a slurred mumbling.

"Come now, sir!" said Cowdray. "Enough for today." He looked among the merry crowd of Walrus's crew. "Where's the carpenter?" he said, and Black Dog stepped forward. "Well enough," said Cowdray, looking at Long John's brand-new crutch, shining white with the freshness of its carving. "But it's a little too long. Take an inch off it and we'll try again tomorrow." He turned back to Long John. "Is it padded well enough, Mr Silver?"

"No," gasped Long John.

"More padding then," said Cowdray. "And now, Mr Silver, back to your hammock with you, sir. You have done magnificently to be up and stepping out this early in your recovery, but you must rest now." So they took him aft again and helped him into his hammock, now rigged with its own shade against the sun, and with a cask for a table, and a chair for those to sit upon who came to keep him company.

Once he was settled, Cowdray and Jobo left and the rest of the crew went to their duties. This was because – aboard Walrus – things had always been done man-o'-war fashion, since neither Flint, nor Billy Bones, nor Long John could abide idling. To Long John's delight, Selena stayed and sat by him. She sat close by his head so he could easily speak with her. And he felt better, laid in his hammock. The sick weakness was fading and, having been upright after so long laid on his back, he felt more of a man. He looked at the lovely dark eyes and the swell of her breasts against her shirt, and her backside against her breeches.

Shiver me timbers! he thought. Haven't one-legged men fathered children before now? Why should I be different? And I've money in the bank besides.

"Why must you fight with Flint?" she said, breaking his chain of thought.

"What do you mean, girl?" he said. But he knew.