It was longer than the squire imagined ere we were ready for the sea, and none of our first plans--not even Doctor Livesey's, of keeping me beside him--could be carried out as we intended. The doctor had to go to London for a physician to take charge of his practice; the squire was hard at work at Bristol; and I lived on at the Hall under the charge of old Redruth, the gamekeeper, almost a prisoner, but full of sea-dreams and the most charming anticipations of strange islands and adventures. I brooded by the hour together over the map, all the details of which I well remembered. Sitting by the fire in the housekeeper's room, I approached that island, in my fancy, from every possible direction; I explored every acre of its surface; I climbed a thousand times to that tall hill they call the Spy-glass, and from the top enjoyed the most wonderful and changing prospects. Sometimes the isle was thick with savages, with whom we fought; sometimes full of dangerous animals that hunted us; but in all my fancies nothing occurred to me so strange and tragic as our actual adventures. So the weeks passed on, till one fine day there came a letter addressed to Doctor Livesey, with this addition, "To be opened in the case of his absence, by Tom Redruth or Young Hawkins." Obeying this order, we found, or rather I found--for the gamekeeper was a poor hand at reading anything but print--the following important news: "_Old Anchor Inn, Bristol, March 1, 17--._ "DEAR LIVESEY: As I do not know whether you are at the Hall or still in London, I send this in double to both places. "The ship is bought and fitted. She lies at anchor, ready for sea. You never imagined a sweeter schooner--a child might sail her--two hundred tons; name, _Hispaniola_. "I got her through my old friend, Blandly, who has proved himself throughout the most surprising trump. The admirable fellow literally slaved in my interest, and so, I may say, did every one in Bristol, as soon as they got wind of the port we sailed for--treasure, I mean." "Redruth," said I, interrupting the letter, "Doctor Livesey will not like that. The squire has been talking, after all." "Well, who's a better right?" growled the gamekeeper. "A pretty rum go if Squire ain't to talk for Doctor Livesey, I should think." At that I gave up all attempt at commentary, and read straight on: "Blandly himself found the _Hispaniola_, and by the most admirable management got her for the merest trifle. There is a class of men in Bristol monstrously prejudiced against Blandly. They go the length of declaring that this honest creature would do anything for money; that the _Hispaniola_ belonged to him, and that he sold to me absurdly high--the most transparent calumnies. None of them dare, however, to deny the merits of the ship.