Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

I

The Old Sea-dog (an old experienced sailor) at the Admiral Benbow (the seaside inn kept by Jim's family)

Squire Trelawney (the rich, rash gentleman who fits out the voyage), Dr. Livesey (Dr Livesey, the doctor and magistrate, cool and brave), and the rest of these gentlemen (a man of good birth and manners) having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island (the island where Flint buried his hoard), from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings (the way one carries oneself) of the island, and that only because there is still treasure (riches stored up and hidden) not yet lifted, I take up my pen (the writing tool) in the year of grace 17—, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn (a lodging house for travelers) and the brown old seaman (a sailor) with the sabre (a heavy curved cavalry sword) cut first took up his lodging (a place to stay) under our roof.

I remember him as if it were yesterday, as he came plodding (to walk on slowly and heavily) to the inn (a lodging house for travelers) door, his sea-chest (a chest for clothes and gear kept aboard ship) following behind him in a hand-barrow (a stretcher-like frame carried by two men)--a tall, strong, heavy, nut-brown (brown as a nut) man, his tarry (to stay longer; to wait) pigtail (a length of hair worn twisted behind; a rope of tobacco) falling over the shoulder of his soiled (the growing earth) blue coat (an outer garment), his hands ragged (a torn scrap of cloth) and scarred (marked with scars), with black, broken nails (the finger's horn; the iron pin), and the sabre (a heavy curved cavalry sword) cut across one cheek (the side of the face), a dirty, livid (gray-blue as a bruise) white. I remember him looking round the cove (a small sheltered bay) and whistling (a shrill air note) to himself as he did so, and then breaking out in that old sea-song (a song sung at sea) that he sang so often afterwards (later):

“Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest (the island in the pirate song)-- Yo-ho-ho (the refrain of the pirates' drinking song), and a bottle of rum (the strong spirit sailors drink)!”

in the high, old tottering (shaky and unsteady) voice that seemed to have been tuned (a melody) and broken at the capstan (the upright drum turned to haul up an anchor) bars. Then he rapped (a sharp knock) on the door with a bit of stick like a handspike (a wooden bar used as a lever) that he carried, and when my father appeared, called roughly (without gentleness) for a glass of rum (the strong spirit sailors drink). This, when it was brought to him, he drank slowly, like a connoisseur (an expert judge of fine things), lingering (to stay on slowly) on the taste and still looking about him at the cliffs (a steep rock face) and up at our signboard (a shop's hanging sign).

“This is a handy (convenient; skillful) cove (a small sheltered bay),” says he at length; “and a pleasant (pleasing) sittyated grog-shop (a low drinking house). Much company, mate?”

My father told him no, very little company, the more was the pity (sorrow for another's pain).

“Well, then,” said he, “this is the berth (a bunk on a ship; a place at anchor) for me. Here you, matey (mate, as a familiar address),” he cried to the man who trundled (trundled: rolled along) the barrow; “bring up alongside (by the side of) and help up my chest. I’ll stay here a bit,” he continued. “I’m a plain (simple; clear; a flat land) man; rum (the strong spirit sailors drink) and bacon (cured pig meat) and eggs is what I want, and that head up there for to watch ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I see what you’re at--there”; and he threw down three or four gold pieces on the threshold (the door's sill). “You can tell me when I’ve worked through that,” says he, looking as fierce (savagely violent) as a commander.

And indeed bad as his clothes were and coarsely (roughly; rudely) as he spoke, he had none of the appearance of a man who sailed (the wind-catching sheet; to travel by ship) before the mast (a ship's tall pole), but seemed like a mate or skipper (the captain of a small vessel) accustomed (to make used to) to be obeyed (to do as ordered) or to strike. The man who came with the barrow told us the mail had set him down the morning before at the Royal George, that he had inquired (to ask) what inns (a lodging house for travelers) there were along the coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I suppose, and described as lonely (alone and sad), had chosen it from the others for his place of residence (a dwelling place). And that was all we could learn of our guest.

He was a very silent (making no sound) man by custom (settled usage). All day he hung round the cove (a small sheltered bay) or upon the cliffs (a steep rock face) with a brass (the yellow metal) telescope (the tube for seeing far); all evening he sat in a corner of the parlour (the sitting room) next the fire and drank rum (the strong spirit sailors drink) and water very strong. Mostly he would not speak when spoken to, only look up sudden (without warning) and fierce (savagely violent) and blow through his nose like a fog-horn (the deep horn sounded in fog); and we and the people who came about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day when he came back from his stroll (to walk idly) he would ask if any seafaring (sailing the sea for a living) men had gone by along the road. At first we thought it was the want of company of his own kind that made him ask this question, but at last we began to see he was desirous (wishing) to avoid them. When a seaman (a sailor) did put up at the Admiral Benbow (as now and then some did, making by the coast road for Bristol) he would look in at him through the curtained (hung with curtains) door before he entered the parlour (the sitting room); and he was always sure to be as silent (making no sound) as a mouse (the small gray house animal) when any such was present. For me, at least, there was no secret about the matter, for I was, in a way, a sharer (one who shares) in his alarms (sudden fear; a warning). He had taken me aside one day and promised me a silver fourpenny (a small silver coin worth four pence) on the first of every month if I would only keep my “weather-eye (a sharp lookout kept for danger) open for a seafaring (sailing the sea for a living) man with one leg” and let him know the moment he appeared. Often enough when the first of the month came round and I applied to him for my wage (pay for labor; to carry on war), he would only blow through his nose at me and stare (to look fixedly) me down, but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it, bring me my four-penny (a small silver coin worth four pence) piece, and repeat (to say or do again) his orders to look out for “the seafaring (sailing the sea for a living) man with one leg.”

How that personage (a person of importance) haunted (to visit as a ghost) my dreams, I need scarcely (hardly) tell you. On stormy (full of storm) nights, when the wind shook (to move quickly to and fro) the four corners of the house and the surf (the breaking waves on a shore) roared (a deep loud cry) along the cove (a small sheltered bay) and up the cliffs (a steep rock face), I would see him in a thousand forms, and with a thousand diabolical (devilish) expressions. Now the leg would be cut off at the knee (the leg's middle joint), now at the hip (the joint of the thigh); now he was a monstrous (hugely dreadful) kind of a creature (a living being) who had never had but the one leg, and that in the middle of his body. To see him leap (to jump) and run and pursue (to chase after) me over hedge (a row of bushes as a fence) and ditch (a dug channel) was the worst of nightmares (a dream of terror). And altogether (wholly) I paid pretty dear for my monthly fourpenny (a small silver coin worth four pence) piece, in the shape of these abominable (hateful; disgusting) fancies (the imagination; a liking).

But though I was so terrified (filled with terror) by the idea of the seafaring (sailing the sea for a living) man with one leg, I was far less afraid of the captain himself than anybody else who knew him. There were nights when he took a deal more rum (the strong spirit sailors drink) and water than his head would carry; and then he would sometimes sit and sing his wicked (evil), old, wild sea-songs (sailors' songs), minding nobody; but sometimes he would call for glasses round and force all the trembling (to shake finely) company to listen to his stories or bear a chorus (singers together; a refrain) to his singing. Often I have heard the house shaking (to move quickly to and fro) with “Yo-ho-ho (the refrain of the pirates' drinking song), and a bottle of rum (the strong spirit sailors drink),” all the neighbours (one living near) joining in for dear life, with the fear of death upon them, and each singing louder (more loud) than the other to avoid remark (to say; to notice). For in these fits he was the most overriding (overbearing and masterful) companion (one who keeps company) ever known; he would slap (a blow with the open hand) his hand on the table for silence (absence of sound) all round; he would fly up in a passion (burning feeling) of anger (hot displeasure) at a question, or sometimes because none was put, and so he judged the company was not following his story. Nor would he allow anyone to leave the inn (a lodging house for travelers) till he had drunk himself sleepy (heavy with sleep) and reeled (to stagger; to wind thread) off to bed.

His stories were what frightened (to fill with fear) people worst of all. Dreadful (filling with dread) stories they were--about hanging, and walking the plank (a long flat board), and storms at sea, and the Dry Tortugas, and wild deeds (an act done) and places on the Spanish Main. By his own account he must have lived his life among some of the wickedest (evil) men that God ever allowed upon the sea, and the language in which he told these stories shocked (a violent jolt) our plain (simple; clear; a flat land) country people almost as much as the crimes that he described. My father was always saying the inn (a lodging house for travelers) would be ruined (destruction; broken remains), for people would soon cease (to stop) coming there to be tyrannized (tyrannized: ruled harshly) over and put down, and sent shivering (trembling with cold or fever) to their beds; but I really believe his presence did us good. People were frightened (to fill with fear) at the time, but on looking back they rather liked it; it was a fine excitement (stirred-up feeling) in a quiet country life, and there was even a party of the younger men who pretended (to make believe) to admire (to look on with wonder) him, calling him a “true sea-dog (an old experienced sailor)” and a “real old salt” and such like names, and saying there was the sort of man that made England terrible at sea.

In one way, indeed, he bade (to command; to offer) fair to ruin (destruction; broken remains) us, for he kept on staying week after week, and at last month after month, so that all the money had been long exhausted (to use up; tire out), and still my father never plucked (fleeced at cards; robbed) up the heart to insist (to press firmly) on having more. If ever he mentioned it, the captain blew through his nose so loudly (with loud voice) that you might say he roared (a deep loud cry), and stared my poor father out of the room. I have seen him wringing (to twist and squeeze) his hands after such a rebuff (a blunt refusal), and I am sure the annoyance (irritation) and the terror (overwhelming fear) he lived in must have greatly (to a great degree) hastened (to hurry) his early and unhappy (not happy) death.

All the time he lived with us the captain made no change whatever in his dress but to buy some stockings (a knitted leg covering) from a hawker (a street seller). One of the cocks (the male fowl; to set a gun ready) of his hat having fallen down, he let it hang from that day forth (forward; out), though it was a great annoyance (irritation) when it blew. I remember the appearance of his coat (an outer garment), which he patched (a mending piece) himself upstairs (on the floor above) in his room, and which, before the end, was nothing but patches (a mending piece). He never wrote or received a letter, and he never spoke with any but the neighbours (one living near), and with these, for the most part, only when drunk on rum (the strong spirit sailors drink). The great sea-chest (a chest for clothes and gear kept aboard ship) none of us had ever seen open.

He was only once crossed, and that was towards the end, when my poor father was far gone in a decline (to refuse; to sink) that took him off. Dr. Livesey came late one afternoon to see the patient, took a bit of dinner from my mother, and went into the parlour (the sitting room) to smoke a pipe (a smoking tube; a music tube) until his horse should come down from the hamlet (a little village), for we had no stabling (shelter for horses) at the old Benbow. I followed him in, and I remember observing (to watch; to remark) the contrast (a set difference) the neat (trimly ordered), bright doctor, with his powder (fine dust; gunpowder) as white as snow and his bright, black eyes and pleasant (pleasing) manners, made with the coltish (frisky like a young horse) country folk (people), and above all, with that filthy (foully dirty), heavy, bleared (dim and watery) scarecrow (a ragged figure set to fright off birds) of a pirate (a sea robber) of ours, sitting, far gone in rum (the strong spirit sailors drink), with his arms on the table. Suddenly he--the captain, that is--began to pipe (a smoking tube; a music tube) up his eternal (without end) song:

“Fifteen men on the dead man’s chest (the island in the pirate song)-- Yo-ho-ho (the refrain of the pirates' drinking song), and a bottle of rum (the strong spirit sailors drink)! Drink and the devil (the evil one) had done for the rest-- Yo-ho-ho (the refrain of the pirates' drinking song), and a bottle of rum (the strong spirit sailors drink)!”

At first I had supposed “the dead man’s chest (the island in the pirate song)” to be that identical (exactly the same) big box of his upstairs (on the floor above) in the front room, and the thought had been mingled (to mix among) in my nightmares (a dream of terror) with that of the one-legged (having one leg) seafaring (sailing the sea for a living) man. But by this time we had all long ceased (to stop) to pay any particular notice to the song; it was new, that night, to nobody but Dr. Livesey, and on him I observed (to watch; to remark) it did not produce an agreeable (pleasant) effect, for he looked up for a moment quite angrily (with anger) before he went on with his talk to old Taylor, the gardener (one who tends a garden), on a new cure (to heal) for the rheumatics (rheumatics: aches in the joints). In the meantime (the time between), the captain gradually (little by little) brightened (to make brighter) up at his own music, and at last flapped (to swing loosely; a hanging piece) his hand upon the table before him in a way we all knew to mean silence (absence of sound). The voices stopped at once, all but Dr. Livesey’s; he went on as before speaking clear and kind and drawing briskly (with quick energy) at his pipe (a smoking tube; a music tube) between every word or two. The captain glared (a hard bright light; an angry stare) at him for a while, flapped (to swing loosely; a hanging piece) his hand again, glared (a hard bright light; an angry stare) still harder, and at last broke out with a villainous (wicked), low oath (a sworn promise; a curse), “Silence (absence of sound), there, between decks (a ship's floor)!”

“Were you addressing me, sir?” says the doctor; and when the ruffian (a brutal rough) had told him, with another oath (a sworn promise; a curse), that this was so, “I have only one thing to say to you, sir,” replies the doctor, “that if you keep on drinking rum (the strong spirit sailors drink), the world will soon be quit of a very dirty scoundrel (a shameless villain)!”

The old fellow’s fury (raging anger) was awful (awful: full of awe — the old sense here). He sprang to his feet, drew and opened a sailor (a seaman)’s clasp-knife (a folding pocket knife), and balancing it open on the palm (the inner hand; the tropical tree) of his hand, threatened (to hold out harm) to pin (a stout wooden rod set in a rail, that a rope is turned about) the doctor to the wall.

The doctor never so much as moved. He spoke to him as before, over his shoulder and in the same tone (a sound's quality; a manner) of voice, rather high, so that all the room might hear, but perfectly calm and steady (firm and even): “If you do not put that knife (the cutting blade) this instant (a moment; immediate) in your pocket (the sewn-in pouch), I promise, upon my honour (honor), you shall hang at the next assizes (assizes: the periodic county court).”

Then followed a battle of looks between them, but the captain soon knuckled (a finger joint) under, put up his weapon, and resumed (to take up again) his seat, grumbling (to complain in a low voice) 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 (a local judge); and if I catch a breath of complaint (a voiced discontent) against you, if it’s only for a piece of incivility (rudeness) like tonight’s, I’ll take effectual (sure to have effect) means to have you hunted (to chase game) down and routed (the fixed daily round) out of this. Let that suffice (to be enough).”

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.