Great Britain -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction; Historical fiction
From the landlord at the inn I bought a suit of homespun clothes which,
by good fortune, fitted Nicol; and left his soaked garments as part
payment. Clad decently, he looked a great, stalwart man, though somewhat
bent in the back, and with a strange craning forward of the neck,
acquired, I think, from much wandering among hills. I hired a horse to
take him to Edinburgh, and the two of us rode out of the yard, followed
by the parting courtesies of the host.
Of our journey to Edinburgh, I have little else to tell. We came to the
town in the afternoon, and went through the streets to the port of
Leith, after leaving our horses at the place arranged for. I was
grieved to part from Maisie, for I had ridden her from boyhood, and she
had come to know my ways wondrous well. We found a vessel to sail the
next morn for Rotterdam, and bargained with the captain for our passage.
When all had been settled, and we had looked our fill upon the harbour
and the craft, and felt the salt of the sea on our lips, we betook
ourselves to an inn, _The Three Herrings_, which fronted the quay, and
there abode for the night.
BOOK II—THE LOW COUNTRIES
CHAPTER I
OF MY VOYAGE TO THE LOW COUNTRIES
We were aboard on the next morning by a little after daybreak, for the
captain had forewarned me, the night before, that he purposed to catch
the morning tide. To one inland-bred, the harbour of Leith was a sight
to whet the curiosity, There were vessels of all kinds and sizes,
little fishing smacks with brown, home-made sails, from Fife or the
Lothian coast towns, great sea-going ships, many with strange, foreign
names on their sides, and full of a great bustle of lading and unlading.
There was such a concourse of men, too, as made the place like a
continuous horse-fair. Half a dozen different tongues jabbered in my
ear, of which I knew not one word, save of the French, which I could
make a fair shape to speak, having learned it from Tam Todd, along with
much else of good and bad. There were men in red cowls like Ayrshire
weavers, and men in fur hats from the North, and dark-skinned fellows,
too, from the Indies, and all this motley crew would be running up and
down jabbering and shrilling like a pack of hounds. And every now and
then across the uproar would come the deep voice of a Scots skipper,
swearing and hectoring as if the world and all that is in it were his
peculiar possession.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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