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Updated: June 16, 2025
When the doctor had wormed this secret from him on the afternoon of the attack, and when next morning he saw the anchorage deserted, he had gone to Silver, given him the chart, which was now useless given him the stores, for Ben Gunn's cave was well supplied with goats' meat salted by himself given anything and everything to get a chance of moving in safety from the stockade to the two-pointed hill, there to be clear of malaria and keep a guard upon the money.
"An' it's a quare way to be showin' our love, I'm thinkin'." "An' it's Miss Hetty's own way thin, by Jasus!" answered Dan; "an' I'd jist loike to see the man 'ud say, she didn't fairly worship the very futsteps of 'im." When Deacon Little heard Hetty Gunn's voice at his door that night, the old man sprang to his feet as he had not sprung for twenty years.
I dropped into the hollow, lifted the side of the tent, and there was Ben Gunn's boat home-made if ever anything was home-made; a rude, lop-sided framework of tough wood, and stretched upon that a covering of goat-skin, with the hair inside. The thing was extremely small, even for me, and I can hardly imagine that it could have floated with a full-sized man.
It was for his country that her grandfather had lost that leg, and would have gladly lost forty, if he had had so many to lose, not for himself; for something which he loved better than himself: this was distinct in Hetty Gunn's comprehension before she was twelve years old, and it was a most important force in the growth of her nature.
On the surface, life seemed to be going on at "Gunn's" much as before. Jim and Sally and Raby made a family centre, to which the lonely doctor attached himself more and more. He came more and more to feel that Raby was a legacy left by Hetty to him.
"Come back to my dooty, sir," returned Silver. "Ah!" said the captain; and that was all he said. What a supper I had of it that night, with all my friends around me; and what a meal it was, with Ben Gunn's salted goat, and some delicacies and a bottle of old wine from the Hispaniola. Never, I am sure, were people gayer or happier.
Jack Gunn's donkey looked over the hedge, his furry ears showing a pointed interest in the affair, and in the distance the vicar surveyed the scene from the cottage door, still holding Mrs Darvell's pattens. So Frank had got home again; and after all his wanderings he found that: "From east to west At home is best."
"It don't make much odds, do it, now?" asked Dick. "Ben Gunn's not here in the body any more'n Flint." But the older hands greeted this remark with scorn. "Why, nobody minds Ben Gunn," cried Merry; "dead or alive, nobody minds him." It was extraordinary how their spirits had returned and how the natural colour had revived in their faces.
A sudden flush covered Hetty's face as she said this, and with a shamefaced, impatient twist of her expressive features, she ran in hastily and laid the whip above the canes. The only thing which broke in on the even tenor of this summer at Gunn's was Cæsar's experiencing religion in a great revival at the Methodist church.
As we passed the two-pointed hill we could see the black mouth of Ben Gunn's cave, and a figure standing by it, leaning on a musket. It was the squire, and we waved a handkerchief and gave him three cheers, in which the voice of Silver joined as heartily as any. Three miles farther, just inside the mouth of North Inlet, what should we meet but the Hispaniola, cruising by herself!
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