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Between the Covers | Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson

Susan Stoderl

Woman reading on bed canopy. Text: "Between the Covers, A Peek into Classic Books." Features "Treasure Island" by Robert Louis Stevenson.

A famed Scottish author, Robert Louis Stevenson (1850–1894) wrote tales of adventure with vivid characters and gripping narratives, such as Treasure Island, Kidnapped, and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Although Stevenson had chronic lung issues throughout his life, he traveled extensively. At 39, he moved to Samoa and advocated for the local people, writing about their political and social issues. He died when he was 44 but left behind a legacy of timeless literature.


Jim Hawkins secretly follows Long John Silver to Hispaniola, and discovers the supposedly affable cook’s true deceptive and criminal nature in Treasure Island.


Excerpt from Chapter 14. The First Blow


“That?” returned Silver, smiling away, but warier than ever, his eye a mere pin-point in his big face, but gleaming like a crumb of glass. “That? Oh, I reckon that’ll be Alan.”


And at this point Tom flashed out like a hero.


“Alan!” he cried. “Then rest his soul for a true seaman! And as for you, John Silver, long you’ve been a mate of mine, but you’re mate of mine no more. If I die like a dog, I’ll die in my dooty. You’ve killed Alan, have you? Kill me too, if you can. But I defies you.”


And with that, this brave fellow turned his back directly on the cook and set off walking for the beach. But he was not destined to go far. With a cry John seized the branch of a tree, whipped the crutch out of his armpit, and sent that uncouth missile hurtling through the air. It struck poor Tom, point foremost, and with stunning violence, right between the shoulders in the middle of his back. His hands flew up, he gave a sort of gasp, and fell.


Whether he were injured much or little, none could ever tell. Like enough, to judge from the sound, his back was broken on the spot. But he had no time given him to recover. Silver, agile as a monkey even without leg or crutch, was on the top of him next moment and had twice buried his knife up to the hilt in that defenceless body. From my place of ambush, I could hear him pant aloud as he struck the blows.”


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