描述
开 本: 32开纸 张: 纯质纸包 装: 平装-胶订是否套装: 否国际标准书号ISBN: 9787201128634
《金银岛》是罗伯特·路易斯·斯蒂文森创作的一部冒险小说。《金银岛》讲述的是十八世纪中期英国少年吉姆从垂危水手彭斯手中得到传说中的藏宝图，在当地乡绅支援下组织探险队前往金银岛。海盗头目约翰应征船上厨师，一群手下也上船充当水手。到达金银岛时，吉姆遇到在荒岛上放荒三年的水手戈恩，而约翰则发动叛变占据帆船。*终吉姆一行人与戈恩合作对付海盗，平息了叛变并成功取得宝藏的故事。《金银岛》为英文版，同时提供配套英文朗读免费下载，在品读精彩故事的同时，亦能提升英语阅读水平，下载方式详见图书封底博客链接。
PART ONE
THE OLD BUCCANEER
CHAPTER 1 THE OLD SEA-DOG AT THE “ADMIRAL BENBOW” /2
CHAPTER 2 BLACK DOG APPEARS AND DISAPPEARS /9
CHAPTER 3 THE BLACK SPOT /17
CHAPTER 4 THE SEA-CHEST /24
CHAPTER 5 THE LAST OF THE BLIND MAN /31
CHAPTER 6 THE CAPTAIN’S PAPERS /38
PART TWO
THE SEA COOK
CHAPTER 7 I GO TO BRISTOL /46
CHAPTER 8 AT THE SIGN OF THE “SPY-GLASS” /53
CHAPTER 9 POWDER AND ARMS /60
CHAPTER 10 THE VOYAGE /67
CHAPTER 11 WHAT I HEARD IN THE APPLE BARREL /74
CHAPTER 12 COUNCIL OF WAR /81
PART THREE
MY SHORE ADVENTURE
CHAPTER 13 HOW I BEGAN MY SHORE ADVENTURE /90
CHAPTER 14 THE FIRST BLOW /96
CHAPTER 15 THE MAN OF THE ISLAND /103
PART FOUR
THE STOCKADE
CHAPTER 16 NARRATIVE CONTINUED BY THE DOCTOR: HOW THE SHIP WAS ABANDONED /112
CHAPTER 17 NARRATIVE CONTINUED BY THE DOCTOR: THE JOLLY-BOAT’S LAST TRIP /118
CHAPTER 18 NARRATIVE CONTINUED BY THE DOCTOR: END OF THE FIRST DAY’S FIGHTING /124
CHAPTER 19 NARRATIVE RESUMED BY JIM HAWKINS: THE GARRISON IN THE STOCKADE /130
CHAPTER 20 SILVER’S EMBASSY /137
CHAPTER 21 THE ATTACK /144
PART FIVE
MY SEA ADVENTURE
CHAPTER 22 HOW I BEGAN MY SEA ADVENTURE /152
CHAPTER 23 THE EBB-TIDE RUNS /159
CHAPTER 24 THE CRUISE OF THE CORACLE /165
CHAPTER 25 I STRIKE THE JOLLY ROGER /172
CHAPTER 26 ISRAEL HANDS /179
CHAPTER 27 “PIECES OF EIGHT” /188
PART SIX
CAPTAIN SILVER
CHAPTER 28 IN THE ENEMY’S CAMP /196
CHAPTER 29 THE BLACK SPOT AGAIN /205
CHAPTER 30 ON PAROLE /212
CHAPTER 31 THE TREASURE HUNT—FLINT’S POINTER /220
CHAPTER 32 THE TREASURE HUNT—THE VOICE AMONG THE TREES /228
CHAPTER 33 THE FALL OF A CHIEFTAIN /235
CHAPTER 34 AND LAST /242
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 looking about him at the cliffs and up at our
signboard.
“This is a handy
cove,” says he, at length; “and a pleasant sittyated grog-shop. Much company,
mate?”
My father told him no,
very little company, the more was the pity.
“Well, then,” said he,
“this is the berth for me. Here you, matey,” he cried to the man who trundled
the barrow; “bring up alongside and help up my chest. I’ll stay here a bit,” he
continued. “I’m a plain man; rum and bacon and eggs is what I want, and that
head up there
for
to watch ships off. What you mought call me? You mought call me captain. Oh, I
see what you’re at—there”; and he threw down three or four gold pieces on the
threshold. “You can tell me when I’ve worked through that,” says he, looking as
fierce as a commander.
And, indeed, bad as
his clothes were, and coarsely as he spoke, he had none of the appearance of a
man who sailed before the mast; but seemed like a mate or skipper, accustomed
to be obeyed or to strike. The man who came with the barrow told us the mail
had set him down the morning before at the “Royal George”; that he had inquired
what inns there were along the coast, and hearing ours well spoken of, I
suppose, and described as lonely, had chosen it from the others for his place
of residence. And that was all we could learn of our guest.
He was a very silent
man by custom. All day he hung round the cove, or upon the cliffs, with a brass
telescope; all evening he sat in a corner of the parlour next the fire, and
drank rum and water very strong. Mostly he would not speak when spoken to; only
look up sudden and fierce, and blow through his nose like a fog-horn; and we
and the people who came about our house soon learned to let him be. Every day
when he came back from his stroll, he would ask if any seafaring men had gone
by along the road. At first we thought it was the want of company of his own
kind that made him ask this question; but at last we began to see he was
desirous to avoid them. When a seaman did put up at the “Admiral
Benbow” (as now and then some did,
making by the coast road for Bristol), he would look in at him through the
curtained door before he entered the parlour; and he was always sure to be as
silent as a mouse when any such was present. For me, at least, there was no
secret about the matter; for I was, in a way, a sharer in his alarms. He had
taken me aside one day, and promised me a silver fourpenny on the first of
every month if I would only keep my “weather-eye open for a
seafaring man with one leg,” and let him know the
moment he appeared. Often enough, when the first of the month came round, and I
applied to him for my wage, he would only blow through his nose at me, and
stare me down; but before the week was out he was sure to think better of it, bring
me my fourpenny piece, and repeat his orders to look out for “the
seafaring man with one leg.”
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