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 — John Shaqi
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
Stewart and the whole
Jacobitical side of my business, and to profit for that purpose by the
guidance of the porter at my side. But it chanced I had scarce given him
the address, when there came a sprinkle of rain--nothing to hurt, only
for my new clothes--and we took shelter under a pend at the head of a
close or alley.
Being strange to what I saw, I stepped a little farther in. The narrow
paved way descended swiftly. Prodigious tall houses sprang upon each
side and bulged out, one story beyond another, as they rose. At the top
only a ribbon of sky showed in. By what I could spy in the windows, and
by the respectable persons that passed out and in, I saw the houses to
be very well occupied; and the whole appearance of the place interested
me like a tale.
I was still gazing, when there came a sudden brisk tramp of feet in time
and clash of steel behind me. Turning quickly, I was aware of a party of
armed soldiers, and, in their midst, a tall man in a great-coat. He
walked with a stoop that was like a piece of courtesy, genteel and
insinuating: he waved his hands plausibly as he went, and his face was
sly and handsome. I thought his eye took me in, but could not meet it.
This procession went by to a door in the close, which a serving-man in a
fine livery set open; and two of the soldier-lads carried the prisoner
within, the rest lingering with their firelocks by the door.
There can nothing pass in the streets of a city without some following
of idle folk and children. It was so now; but the more part melted away
incontinent until but three were left. One was a girl; she was dressed
like a lady, and had a screen of the Drummond colours on her head; but
her comrades or (I should say) followers were ragged gillies, such as I
had seen the matches of by the dozen in my Highland journey. They all
spoke together earnestly in Gaelic, the sound of which was pleasant in
my ears for the sake of Alan; and though the rain was by again, and my
porter plucked at me to be going, I even drew nearer where they were, to
listen. The lady scolded sharply, the others making apologies and
cringeing before her, so that I made sure she was come of a chief's
house. All the while the three of them sought in their pockets, and by
what I could make out, they had the matter of half a farthing among the
party; which made me smile a little to see all Highland folk alike for
fine obeisances and empty sporrans.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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