"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.
Chapter 32
The extent of the treasure was stunning.
For two and a half years they'd fought for it, killed for it, many had died for it — and now it was coming up and out of Walrus's hold and into the daylight. It was a glorious sight: chest after chest, swinging and laden, raised by block and tackle with willing hands hauling to the tune of a shanty.
And now, having got exactly what he wanted, Flint excelled himself in the quality of leadership that he displayed. He was so full of merriment that he didn't need even the smallest flogging to keep him content. He rose in splendour to the occasion, and became — just for once — the officer that he might have been, had Old Nick not tainted his blood with goblin- juice.
So Flint thought the matter through. Flint set aside time. He took a whole day to ponder. And when he was done, even Caesar or Marlborough would have approved his plans — those that he made public at least.
First, since it was necessary, for the present, to keep things sweet among the jolly companions, he invited Silver to join him aboard Walrus so that the officers of both ships might confer. As the heat of the island was unbearable except in the morning hours, this took place at dawn, in the open, on Walrus's quarterdeck, where all hands could hear. A table and chairs had been set out for the occasion, and the table was spread with the skull-and-crossbones and the Book of Articles.
Flint even had the boatswain and his mates pipe Silver aboard, man-o'-war style, which was greeted by cheers from all hands, except Silver himself who was plunged into the depths of an enormous sulk.
The great ones took their seats at the table while the lesser hands crowded forward. Flint was immediately joined by Billy Bones — who edged so close to his master that he was almost in his lap — along with Parson Smith and one or two others. Silver had Israel Hands and Lion's boatswain, Sarney Sawyer.