I see three or four points, and with Mr. Trelawney’s permission, I’ll name them.” “You, sir, are the captain. It is for you to speak,” says Mr. Trelawney grandly. “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.