David Balfour: Being Memoirs Of His Adventures At Home And Abroad, The Second Part: In Which Are Set Forth His Misfortunes Anent The Appin Murder; His Troubles With Lord Advocate Grant; Captivity On The Bass Rock; Journey Into Holland And France; And Singular Relations With James More Drummond Or Macgregor, A Son Of The Notorious Rob Roy, And His Daughter CatrionaStevenson, Robert Louis
History
David Balfour: Being Memoirs Of His Adventures At Home And Abroad, The Second Part: In Which Are Set Forth His Misfortunes Anent The Appin Murder; His Troubles With Lord Advocate Grant; Captivity On The Bass Rock; Journey Into Holland And France; And Singular Relations With James More Drummond Or Macgregor, A Son Of The Notorious Rob Roy, And His Daughter Catriona
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Historical fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
We were soon alone in a chamber where we were to make shift with a
single bed. Alan looked on me with a queer smile.
"Ye muckle ass!" said he.
"What do ye mean by that?" I cried.
"Mean? What do I mean? It's extraordinar, David man," says he, "that you
should be so mortal stupit."
Again I begged him to speak out.
"Well, it's this of it," said he. "I told ye there were the two kinds of
women--them that would sell their shifts for ye, and the others. Just
you try for yoursel', my bonny man I But what's that neepkin at your
craig?"
I told him.
"I thocht it was something there about," said he.
Nor would he say another word though I besieged him long with
importunities.
* * * * *
CHAPTER XXX
THE LETTER FROM THE SHIP
Daylight showed us how solitary the inn stood. It was plainly hard upon
the sea, yet out of all view of it, and beset on every side with scabbit
hills of sand. There was, indeed, only one thing in the nature of a
prospect, where there stood out over a brae the two sails of a windmill,
like an ass's ears, but with the ass quite hidden. It was strange (after
the wind rose, for at first it was dead calm) to see the turning and
following of each other of these great sails behind the hillock. Scarce
any road came by there; but a number of footways travelled among the
bents in all directions up to Mr. Bazin's door. The truth is, he was a
man of many trades, not any one of them honest, and the position of his
inn was the best of his livelihood. Smugglers frequented it; political
agents and forfeited persons bound across the water came there to await
their passages; and I daresay there was worse behind, for a whole family
might have been butchered in that house and nobody the wiser.
I slept little and ill. Long ere it was day, I had slipped from beside
my bedfellow, and was warming myself at the fire or walking to and fro
before the door. Dawn broke mighty sullen; but a little after, sprang up
a wind out of the west, which burst the clouds, let through the sun, and
set the mill to the turning. There was something of spring in the
sunshine, or else it was in my heart; and the appearing of the great
sails one after another from behind the hill, diverted me extremely. At
times I could hear a creak of the machinery; and by half-past eight of
the day, Catriona began to sing in the house. At this I would have cast
my hat in the air; and I thought this dreary, desert place was like a
paradise.
For all which, as the day drew on and nobody came near, I began to be
aware of an uneasiness that I could scarce explain. It seemed there was
trouble afoot; the sails of the windmill, as they came up and went down
over the hill, were like persons spying; and outside of all fancy, it
was surely a strange neighbourhood and house for a young lady to be
brought to dwell in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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