The gunwale was lipping astern. Several times we shipped a little water, and my breeches and the tails of my coat were all soaking wet before we had gone a hundred yards.
the side of something that is sheltered from the wind
"We must keep upstream. You see, sir," he went on, "if once we dropped to leeward of the landing-place, it's hard to say where we should get ashore, besides the chance of being boarded by the gigs; whereas, the way we go the current must slacken, and then we can dodge back along the shore."
"I have thought of that," said I, for I made sure he was thinking of a bombardment of the fort. "They could never get the gun ashore, and if they did, they could never haul it through the woods."
The squire raised his gun, the rowing ceased, and we leaned over to the other side to keep the balance, and all was so nicely contrived that we did not ship a drop.
Poor old fellow, he had not uttered one word of surprise, complaint, fear, or even acquiescence from the very beginning of our troubles till now, when we had laid him down in the log-house to die.
Sure enough, there were two men just outside the stockade, one of them waving a white cloth; the other, no less a person than Silver himself, standing placidly by.
a soft wet area of low-lying land that sinks underfoot
But where Silver stood with his lieutenant all was still in shadow, and they waded knee-deep in a low, white vapor that had crawled during the night out of the morass.
We could see the man who carried the flag of truce attempting to hold Silver back. Nor was that wonderful, seeing how cavalier had been the captain's answer.
The adjective "cavalier" describes Captain Smollett's attitude towards a man who had unsuccessfully tried to mutiny and who is now asking for a truce. The noun "cavalier" can refer to an armed horseman, a gallant gentleman, or a supporter of a royal government. These definitions give more punch to Captain Smollett's later proposal to either bring the pirates back to England to be tried and hanged by the king or to shoot Silver in the back the next time he sees him.
I had not time to be afraid, but, as the blow still hung impending, leaped in a trice upon one side, and missing my footing in the soft sand, rolled headlong down the slope.
Created on Fri Mar 01 15:30:25 EST 2013
(updated Wed Aug 06 15:27:34 EDT 2025)
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