Kidnapped (Illustrated): Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the Year 1751 — John Shaqi
Kidnapped (Illustrated): Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the Year 1751Stevenson, Robert Louis
History
Kidnapped (Illustrated): Being Memoirs of the Adventures of David Balfour in the Year 1751
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Kidnapping -- Fiction; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
TWO PIPERS IN BALQUHIDDER 238
All night long the brose was going and the pipes changing
hands
THE PARTING 286
For we both knew without a word said that we had
come to where our ways parted
MAP 3
Sketch of the Cruise of the Brig _Covenant_ and the
probable course of David Balfour’s Wanderings
KIDNAPPED
[Illustration: SKETCH of the CRUISE of the BRIG COVENANT
And the probable course of DAVID BALFOUR’S WANDERINGS.
THE GRAY LITH. CO., N.Y.
]
CHAPTER I
I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS
I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in
the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the
last time out of the door of my father’s house. The sun began to shine
upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time I
had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the
garden lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in the time of
the dawn was beginning to arise and die away.
Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the
garden gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing
that I lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it
kindly under his arm.
“Well, Davie, lad,” said he, “I will go with you as far as the ford, to
set you on the way.”
And we began to walk forward in silence.
“Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?” said he, after awhile.
“Why, sir,” said I, “if I knew where I was going, or what was likely to
become of me, I would tell you candidly Essendean is a good place
indeed, and I have been very happy there; but then I have never been
anywhere else. My father and mother, since they are both dead, I shall
be no nearer to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary; and, to
speak truth, if I thought I had a chance to better myself where I was
going I would go with a good will.”
“Ay?” said Mr. Campbell. “Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell
your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your
father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave
me in charge a certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. ‘So
soon,’ says he, ‘as I am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear
disposed of’ (all which, Davie, hath been done), ‘give my boy this
letter into his hand, and start him off to the house of Shaws, not far
from Cramond. That is the place I came from,’ he said, ‘and it’s where
it befits that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,’ your father
said, ‘and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, and be well
liked where he goes.’”
“The house of Shaws!” I cried. “What had my poor father to do with the
house of Shaws?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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