Cutthroat Island Page #3

I always thought it was a sailor's yarn.

Piles of skulls.

Reefs of sailors' drowned bones.

This treasure is ours.

Or would be...

if you were an Adams.

There's no water in Adams blood.

I'll do it. I'll join with ya.

Just like Harry, mine's well hid.

Unfinished business

from the other night, Morgan.

Let her stand, Mr. Snelgrave.

Morgan, what a woman you've become.

I knew you'd bring him here, Morgan.

Blast ya!

Hello, brother Mordachai.

Morgan, in sweet memory...

of bouncing you on my knee

as a little girl...

I'm going to ask you just once

for your daddy's piece of the map.

Would you settle

for the point of my cutlass?

Somehow I knew you would

say something like that.

And then we'd fall

to oaths and threats.

Let's cut through

the talk, shall we?

I have just the thing for you,

little niece.

This says it all, Morgan.

Pain. Viciousness.

Mutilation.

All the good things in life.

My coat of arms.

Ugly, slippery

and foul smelling.

- It does say it all.

- Yes.

- And it looks like you.

- Thank you.

We stay close together.

We're family.

- Captain!

- Bowen! Get back to the ship!

Bring the men!

You think you might unlock these now?

Given the circumstances.

I don't have the key here.

- Where is it?

- They never gave me one.

What?

The map. Tell me where it is,

or I'll run you through!

Hey! You killed my brother!

I saw that, little niece.

I remember when

you were a little girl.

Always flinched when you saw

your Uncle Douglas, didn't ya?

Give me the map!

Where's the map?

Give me the map!

Sweetheart, I promised

I'd take care of you.

- Very pretty, Mr. Shaw.

- Thank you, ma'am.

I had the good fortune to study

with a grand master in Vienna.

Stop diddling and kill the man.

Kill him? Bless me.

We never got to that.

I see.

Come on!

I believe you have something

of mine, Mr. Shaw.

Ma'am, I don't know

what you're talking about.

- Blair!

- This way, Morgan!

This does you no good

on the ground, Mr. Bowen.

The numbers.

- What were the numbers?

- What numbers?

- The Psalms.

- 11, 75 and 42.

I figured it out.

It's the longitude.

- We must leave now.

- It's the longitude.

- Back to the ship.

- Move!

Hurry!

Come along, men.

Congratulations, madam.

There's another town you've destroyed.

Get along lively!

Heave!

Heave!

You've been in a fight.

You all right?

It's just a scratch.

Somebody, cut off his chains.

Nice ship.

Why aren't I moving?

Did you hear me, Mr. Bishop?

I said, why aren't I moving?

- The anchor's fouled, Captain.

- Cut it loose.

Aye, aye, sir. Quickly.

We can't leave yet, Captain.

We haven't put enough food on board.

We need less mouths.

Does no one hear me

on this ship?

I distinctly said...

cut it loose!

75...

42... 11.

Keep her full!

Let me show you the chart.

The line I plotted runs here,

through Crooked Man Keys.

Cutthroat can't be far off.

Look at the chart.

"Reef and coral heads."

Dawg outguns us, yes.

He's bigger.

But that means he's heavier, don't it?

He draws more water.

We lure him into the keys and

run him aground on the coral heads.

We'll kill him there

and take his map.

She has a wound.

We must get her below to the cabin.

It's festering.

That's why.

- Can you take the ball out?

- Hard to say.

Best I seal her side

with this hot poker.

That's what we always do

in such cases.

No offense, gentlemen,

but given the circumstances...

don't you think this

calls for a professional?

It's all right.

Let him go.

He is a doctor.

I'll need surgeon's tools,

hot water, sulfur and clean packing.

- Some rum might help her pain.

- Aye.

You as well, John.

- You clumsy swab!

- Sorry.

I was supposed to torture you.

Sorry.

- Do you see it yet?

- Close.

Another minute.

Your father and two uncles

each had pieces of the map.

The treasure,

it's large, I take it.

Largest ever taken.

Spanish gold ship.

Sorry.

And a third uncle, he chases you.

An unusual family.

Success.

I've treated you cruel,

haven't I?

You've had a lot on your mind.

And you did help me

at the prison.

The tavern.

Let's say, between us,

just for argument's sake...

that you have Mordachai's map.

But I don't.

No, I know that,

but pretend that you do.

I was willing to go halves

with him and his.

I will do the same

with you and yours.

You're saying...

that if I show you mine,

you'll share yours with me?

Give me the map.

Give me a kiss first.

Sorry.

Map now.

You see, the thing is...

I don't have it.

But that doesn't mean

we can't keep talking about it.

Mr. Blair's respects, Captain.

Talk to yourself.

Yes, Mr. Bowen?

The Reaper's five miles off

and closing.

You should stay down.

Mr. Bowen, see that Mr. Shaw

gets a change of clothes.

- He's beginning to stink.

- Aye, Captain.

He has it.

She makes for

Crooked Man's Passage.

Yes. She hopes to tear up

our bottom on the coral.

Looks like we're in for a blow.

Shall we attack her now?

No. We'll go around the islands

in the dark.

We'll ambush her

on the other side at daybreak.

You are clever, Morgan,

but I will catch you.

Uncle Dawg will have his day.

First Ainslee's chasing us.

Now your uncle is chasing us.

Now, everybody's chasing us.

I'm not so happy about this.

I mean, I'm using this piratical stuff

to write a best-selling book.

I didn't want to put myself

in any physical danger.

Put a stow in that sail, Mr. Blair.

We don't want to lose her.

- Break fast the foresail!

- Aye, sir!

I cannot see the horizon. There is

a storm headed our way from the island.

- We'll hold this course.

- Aye.

- Put an extra man on the helm.

- Coxswain, up helm!

"May cruel death

leave victims immortal."

M-C-D-L-V-I.

14-56.

1-4-5-6.

Fourteen degrees latitude...

five minutes, six seconds north.

There's nothing there.

No, you were right.

It's not on any chart.

Where did you have it hidden?

In the boat,

under the seaty thing.

I knew you'd wind up here

at some point...

that being the cheese

and you being the rat.

The thing is, ma'am,

I'm basically a shallow man.

And no doctor.

Am I wrong?

No, not really.

I'm surprised you let me

fiddle with your hip.

And no gentleman either.

I wanted to be.

The thing is,

I was born poor.

My only choice was to become

a thief and a liar.

Then since you lie so easily

and are so shallow...

I shall lie you

in a shallow grave.

Mr. Blair!

Have you no charity, ma'am?

I brim with charity, Mr. Shaw.

I am charity's very soul.

Success, Mr. Blair.

My slave has found Cutthroat Island.

Mark it on the chart.

And since I am so charitable...

I will maroon you on a rock

the size of this table...

instead of splattering your brains

across my bulkhead, as you deserve.

Let's take him below.

Pull!

Going up!

Pull the line, mate!

Tie it down!

Aye, aye, sir!

Tie it off!

Batten down the hatches!

Hold on!

I found it, Mr. Glasspoole!

I've fixed the island.

I know where it is.

It lies through the storm.

You risk the ship

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