`` Tarry we no more . '' In the chancel they found Dick waiting , attended by a few young men ; and there were he and Joan united . When they came forth again , happy and yet serious , into the frosty air and sunlight , the long files of the army were already winding forward up the road ; already the Duke of Gloucester 's banner was unfolded and began to move from before the abbey in a clump of spears ; and behind it , girt by steel-clad knights , the bold , black-hearted , and ambitious hunchback moved on towards his brief kingdom and his lasting infamy . But the wedding party turned upon the other side , and sat down , with sober merriment , to breakfast . The father cellarer attended on their wants , and sat with them at table . Hamley , all jealousy forgotten , began to ply the nowise loth Alicia with courtship . And there , amid the sounding of tuckets and the clash of armoured soldiery and horses continually moving forth , Dick and Joan sat side by side , tenderly held hands , and looked , with ever growing affection , in each other 's eyes . Thenceforth the dust and blood of that unruly epoch passed them by . They dwelt apart from alarms in the green forest where their love began . Two old men in the meanwhile enjoyed pensions in great prosperity and peace , and with perhaps a superfluity of ale and wine , in Tunstall hamlet . One had been all his life a shipman , and continued to the last to lament his man Tom . The other , who had been a bit of everything , turned in the end towards piety , and made a most religious death under the name of Brother Honestus in the neighbouring abbey . So Lawless had his will , and died a friar . Footnotes : -LCB- 1 -RCB- At the date of this story , Richard Crookback could not have been created Duke of Gloucester ; but for clearness , with the reader 's leave , he shall so be called . -LCB- 2 -RCB- Richard Crookback would have been really far younger at this date . PART ONE -- The Old Buccaneer 1 The Old Sea-dog at the Admiral Benbow SQUIRE TRELAWNEY , Dr. Livesey , and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island , from the beginning to the end , keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island , and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted , I take up my pen in the year of grace 17 __ and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn and the brown old seaman with the sabre cut first took up his lodging under our roof . I remember him as if it were yesterday , as he came plodding to the inn door , his sea-chest following behind him in a hand-barrow -- a tall , strong , heavy , nut-brown man , his tarry pigtail falling over the shoulder of his soiled blue coat , his hands ragged and scarred , with black , broken nails , and the sabre cut across one cheek , a dirty , livid white . I remember him looking round the cover and whistling to himself as he did so , and then breaking out in that old sea-song that he sang so often afterwards : `` Fifteen men on the dead man 's chest -- Yo-ho-ho , and a bottle of rum ! '' in the high , old tottering voice that seemed to have been tuned and broken at the capstan bars . Then he rapped on the door with a bit of stick like a handspike that he carried , and when my father appeared , called roughly for a glass of rum .
This , when it was brought to him , he drank slowly , like a connoisseur , lingering on the taste and still XXXXX about him at the cliffs and up at our signboard .
called created dwelt held looking made seemed tottering turned whistling