"First point," began Mr. Smollett. "We must go on, because we can't turn
back. If I gave the word to go about, they would rise at once. Second
point, we have time before us--at least until this treasure's found.
Third point, there are faithful hands. Now, sir, it's got to come
to blows sooner or later, and what I propose is to take time by the
forelock, as the saying is, and come to blows some fine day when they
least expect it. We can count, I take it, on your own home servants, Mr.
Trelawney?"

"As upon myself," declared the squire.

"Three," reckoned the captain; "ourselves make seven, counting Hawkins
here. Now, about the honest hands?"

"Most likely Trelawney's own men," said the doctor; "those he had picked
up for himself before he lit on Silver."

"Nay," replied the squire. "Hands was one of mine."

"I did think I could have trusted Hands," added the captain.

"And to think that they're all Englishmen!" broke out the squire. "Sir,
I could find it in my heart to blow the ship up."

"Well, gentlemen," said the captain, "the best that I can say is not
much. We must lay to, if you please, and keep a bright lookout. It's
trying on a man, I know. It would be pleasanter to come to blows. But
there's no help for it till we know our men. Lay to, and whistle for a
wind, that's my view."