"Robert Louis Stevenson. Treasure island (англ.)" - читать интересную книгу автора

this instant in your pocket, I promise, upon my honour, you shall hang at
the next assizes."
Then followed a battle of looks between them, but the captain soon
knuckled under, put up his weapon, and resumed his seat, grumbling like a
beaten dog.
"And now, sir," continued the doctor, "since I now know there's such a
fellow in my district, you may count I'll have an eye upon you day and
night. I'm not a doctor only; I'm a magistrate; and if I catch a breath of
complaint against you, if it's only for a piece of incivility like
tonight's, I'll take effectual means to have you hunted down and routed out
of this. Let that suffice."
Soon after, Dr. Livesey's horse came to the door and he rode away, but
the captain held his peace that evening, and for many evenings to come.
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2. Black Dog Appears and Disappears
IT was not very long after this that there occurred the first of the
mysterious events that rid us at last of the captain, though not, as you
will see, of his affairs. It was a bitter cold winter, with long, hard
frosts and heavy gales; and it was plain from the first that my poor father
was little likely to see the spring. He sank daily, and my mother and I had
all the inn upon our hands, and were kept busy enough without paying much
regard to our unpleasant guest.
It was one January morning, very early - a pinching, frosty morning -
the cove all grey with hoar-frost, the ripple lapping softly on the stones,
the sun still low and only touching the hilltops and shining far to seaward.
The captain had risen earlier than usual and set out down the beach, his
cutlass swinging under the broad skirts of the old blue coat, his brass
telescope under his arm, his hat tilted back upon his head. I remember his
breath hanging like smoke in his wake as he strode off, and the last sound I
heard of him as he turned the big rock was a loud snort of indignation, as
though his mind was still running upon Dr. Livesey.
Well, mother was upstairs with father and I was laying the
breakfast-table against the captain's return when the parlour door opened
and a man stepped in on whom I had never set my eyes before. He was a pale,
tallowy creature, wanting two fingers of the left hand, and though he wore a
cutlass, he did not look much like a fighter. I had always my eye open for
seafaring men, with one leg or two, and I remember this one puzzled me. He
was not sailorly, and yet he had a smack of the sea about him too.
I asked him what was for his service, and he said he would take rum;
but as I was going out of the room to fetch it, he sat down upon a table and
motioned me to draw near. I paused where I was, with my napkin in my hand.
"Come here, sonny," says he. "Come nearer here."
I took a step nearer.
"Is this here table for my mate Bill?" he asked with a kind of leer.
I told him I did not know his mate Bill, and this was for a person who
stayed in our house whom we called the captain.
"Well," said he, "my mate Bill would be called the captain, as like as
not. He has a cut on one cheek and a mighty pleasant way with him,
particularly in drink, has my mate Bill. We'll put it, for argument like,
that your captain has a cut on one cheek - and we'll put it, if you like,