hing his companion like a snake about to spring.

"John!" said the sailor, stretching out his hand.

"Hands off!" cried Silver, leaping back a yard, as it seemed to me, with
the speed and security of a trained gymnast.

"Hands off, if you like, John Silver," said the other. "It's a black
conscience that can make you feared of me. But, in heaven's name, tell
me what was that?"

"That?" returned Silver, smiling away, but warier than ever, his eye a
mere pin-point in his big face, but gleaming like a crumb of glass.
"That? Oh, I reckon that'll be Alan."

And at this poor Tom flashed out like a hero.

"Alan!" he cried. "Then rest his soul for a true seaman! And as for you,
John Silver, long you've been a mate of mine, but you're mate of mine no
more. If I die like a dog I'll die in my dooty. You've killed Alan,
have you? Kill me, too, if you can. But I defies you."

And with that this brave fellow turned his back directly on the cook and
set off walking for the beach. But he was not destined to go far. With a
cry John seized the branch of a tree, whipped the crutch out of his
armpit, and sent that uncouth missile hurling through the air. It struck
poor Tom, point foremost, and with stunning violence, right between the
shoulders in the middle of his back. His hands flew up, he gave a sort
of gasp and fell.

Whether he was injured much or little, none could ever tell. Like
enough, to judge from the sound, his back was broken on the spot. But he
had no time given him to recover. Silver, agile as a monkey, even
without leg or crutch, was on the top of him next moment, and had twice
buried his knife up to the hilt in that defenseless body. From my place
of ambush I could hear him pant aloud as he struck the blows.

I do not know what it rightly is to faint, but I do know that for the
next little while the whole world swam away from before me in a whirling
mist; Silver and the birds and the tall Spy-glass hilltop going round
and round and topsy-turvy before my eyes, and all manner of bells
ringing, and distant voices shouting in my ear.

When I came again to myself the monster had pulled himself together, his
crutch under his arm, his hat upon his head. Just before him Tom lay
motionless upon the sward; but the murderer minded him not a whit,
cleansing his blood-stained knife the while upon a whisp of grass.
Everything else was unchanged, the sun still shining mercilessly upon
the steaming marsh and the tall pinnacle o