You found out the plot; you found Ben Gunn—the best deed that ever you did, or will do, though you live to ninety. Oh, by Jupiter, and talking of Ben Gunn! Why, this is the mischief in person. Silver!” he cried. “Silver! I’ll give you a piece of advice,” he continued as the cook drew near again; “don’t you be in any great hurry after that treasure.” “Why, sir, I do my possible, which that ain’t,” said Silver. “I can only, asking your pardon, save my life and the boy’s by seeking for that treasure; and you may lay to that.” “Well, Silver,” replied the doctor, “if that is so, I’ll go one step further: look out for squalls when you find it.” “Sir,” said Silver, “as between man and man, that’s too much and too little. What you’re after, why you left the block house, why you given me that there chart, I don’t know, now, do I? And yet I done your bidding with my eyes shut and never a word of hope! But no, this here’s too much. If you won’t tell me what you mean plain out, just say so and I’ll leave the helm.” “No,” said the doctor musingly; “I’ve no right to say more; it’s not my secret, you see, Silver, or, I give you my word, I’d tell it you.