hing as a Author?" returned John derisively. "And who better'n
me? And the p'int is, if the Author made you, he made Long John, and he
made Hands, and Pew, and George Merry--not that George is up to much,
for he's little more'n a name; and he made Flint, what there is of him;
and he made this here mutiny, you keep such a work about; and he had Tom
Redruth shot; and--well, if that's a Author, give me Pew!"

"Don't you believe in a future state?" said Smollett. "Do you think
there's nothing but the present story-paper?"

"I don't rightly know for that," said Silver; "and I don't see what it's
got to do with it, anyway. What I know is this: if there is sich a thing
as a Author, I'm his favourite chara'ter. He does me fathoms better'n he
does you--fathoms, he does. And he likes doing me. He keeps me on deck
mostly all the time, crutch and all; and he leaves you measling in the
hold, where nobody can't see you, nor wants to, and you may lay to that!
If there is a Author, by thunder, but he's on my side, and you may lay
to it!"

"I see he's giving you a long rope," said the Captain. "But that can't
change a man's convictions. I know the Author respects me; I feel it in
my bones: when you and I had that talk at the blockhouse door, who do
you think he was for, my man?"

"And don't he respect me?" cried Silver. "Ah, you should 'a' heard me
putting down my mutiny, George Merry and Morgan and that lot, no longer
ago'n last chapter; you'd 'a' heard something then! You'd 'a' seen what
the Author thinks o' me! But come now, do you consider yourself a
virtuous chara'ter clean through?"

"God forbid!" said Captain Smollett solemnly. "I am a man that tries to
do his duty, and makes a mess of it as often as not. I'm not a very
popular man at home, Silver, I'm afraid!" and the Captain sighed.

"Ah," says Silver. "Then how about this sequel of yours? Are you to be
Cap'n Smollett just the same as ever and not very popular at home, says
you? And if so, why, it's 'Treasure Island' over again, by thunder; and
I'll be Long John and Pew'll be Pew, and we'll have another mutiny as
like as not. Or are you to be somebody else? And if so, why, what the
better are you? and what the worse am I?"

"Why, look here, my man," returned the Captain; "I can't understand how
this story comes about at all, can I? I can't see how you and I who
don't exist should get to speaking here, and smoke our pipes for all the
world like reality? Very well, then, w