He stopped when he had got himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

"That doctor has done for me," he murmured. "My ears are singing. Lay me back."

Before I could do much to help him, he had fallen back to his old place, where he lay for a while without a word.

"Jim," he said at length, "you saw that seafaring man today?"

"Black Dog?" I asked.

"Ah, Black Dog," said he. "He is a bad one, but there are worse men behind him, the men who put him on me. Now, if I cannot get away at all, and they tip me the black spot, mind you, it is my old sea-chest they are after. You get on a horse. You can ride, can you not? Well then, you get on a horse, and go to that doctor of yours after all, and tell him to pipe all hands, magistrates and such, and he will lay them aboard here at the Admiral Benbow. He will catch all of old Flint's crew, man and boy, all of them that are left."