St. Ives: Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in EnglandStevenson, Robert Louis
General
St. Ives: Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England
Stevenson, Robert Louis
French -- England -- Fiction; Prisoners of war -- Fiction
‘Beas’ly temper, sir, the Viscount ’ave,’ said the waiter with feeling.
‘Why, no longer agone than this morning, he was sitting breakfasting and
reading in his paper. I suppose, sir, he come on some pilitical
information, or it might be about ’orses, but he raps his ’and upon the
table sudden and calls for curacoa. It gave me quite a turn, it did; he
did it that sudden and ’ard. Now, sir, that may be manners in France,
but hall I can say is, that I’m not used to it.’
‘Reading the paper, was he?’ said I. ‘What paper, eh?’
‘Here it is, sir,’ exclaimed the waiter. ‘Seems like as if he’d dropped
it.’
And picking it off the floor he presented it to me.
I may say that I was quite prepared, that I already knew what to expect;
but at sight of the cold print my heart stopped beating. There it was:
the fulfilment of Romaine’s apprehension was before me; the paper was
laid open at the capture of Clausel. I felt as if I could take a little
curacoa myself, but on second thoughts called for brandy. It was badly
wanted; and suddenly I observed the waiter’s eye to sparkle, as it were,
with some recognition; made certain he had remarked the resemblance
between me and Alain; and became aware—as by a revelation—of the fool’s
part I had been playing. For I had now managed to put my identification
beyond a doubt, if Alain should choose to make his inquiries at
Aylesbury; and, as if that were not enough, I had added, at an expense of
seventy pounds, a clue by which he might follow me through the length and
breadth of England, in the shape of the claret-coloured chaise! That
elegant equipage (which I began to regard as little better than a
claret-coloured ante-room to the hangman’s cart) coming presently to the
door, I left my breakfast in the middle and departed; posting to the
north as diligently as my cousin Alain was posting to the south, and
putting my trust (such as it was) in an opposite direction and equal
speed.
CHAPTER XXII—CHARACTER AND ACQUIREMENTS OF MR. ROWLEY
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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