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
"Alan!" I cried, "what kind of talk is this of it? You're just made of
courage; it's the character of the man, as I could prove myself if there
was nobody else."
"And you would be the more mistaken," said he. "What makes the differ
with me is just my great penetration and knowledge of affairs. But for
auld, cauld, dour, deidly courage, I am not fit to hold a candle to
yourself. Look at us two here upon the sands. Here am I, fair hotching
to be off; here's you (for all that I ken) in two minds of it whether
you'll no stop. Do you think that I could do that, or would? No me!
Firstly, because I havenae got the courage and wouldnae daur; and
secondly, because I am a man of so much penetration and would see ye
damned first."
"It's there ye're coming, is it?" I cried. "Ah, man Alan, you can wile
your old wives, but you never can wile me."
Remembrance of my temptation in the wood made me strong as iron.
"I have a tryst to keep," I continued. "I am trysted with your cousin
Charlie; I have passed my word."
"Braw trysts that you'll can keep," said Alan. "Ye'll just mistryst
aince and for a' with the gentry in the bents. And what for?" he went on
with an extreme threatening gravity. "Just tell me that, my mannie! Are
ye to be speerited away like Lady Grange? Are they to drive a dirk in
your inside and bury ye in the bents? Or is it to be the other way, and
are they to bring ye in with James? Are they folk to be trustit? Would
ye stick your head in the mouth of Sim Fraser and the ither Whigs?" he
added with extraordinary bitterness.
"Alan," cried I, "they're all rogues and liars, and I'm with ye there.
The more reason there should be one decent man in such a land of
thieves! My word is passed, and I'll stick to it. I said long syne to
your kinswoman that I would stumble at no risk. Do ye mind of that?--the
night Red Colin fell, it was. No more I will, then. Here I stop.
Prestongrange promised me my life; if he's to be mansworn, here I'll
have to die."
"Aweel, aweel," said Alan.
All this time we had seen or heard no more of our pursuers. In truth we
had caught them unawares; their whole party (as I was to learn
afterwards) had not yet reached the scene; what there was of them was
spread among the bents towards Gillane. It was quite an affair to call
them in and bring them over, and the boat was making speed. They were
besides but cowardly fellows: a mere leash of Highland cattle thieves,
of several clans, no gentleman there to be the captain: and the more
they looked at Alan and me upon the beach, the less (I must suppose)
they liked the looks of us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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