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
‘She sleeps up there,’ observed the boy, pointing to the ceiling; and the
knowledge that I was so imminently near to the resting-place of that gold
eyeglass touched even myself with some uneasiness.
Our excellent youth had imported from the city a meat pie, and I was glad
to find it flanked with a decanter of really admirable wine of Oporto.
While I ate, Ronald entertained me with the news of the city, which had
naturally rung all day with our escape: troops and mounted messengers had
followed each other forth at all hours and in all directions; but
according to the last intelligence no recapture had been made. Opinion
in town was very favourable to us: our courage was applauded, and many
professed regret that our ultimate chance of escape should be so small.
The man who had fallen was one Sombref, a peasant; he was one who slept
in a different part of the Castle; and I was thus assured that the whole
of my former companions had attained their liberty, and Shed A was
untenanted.
From this we wandered insensibly into other topics. It is impossible to
exaggerate the pleasure I took to be thus sitting at the same table with
Flora, in the clothes of a gentleman, at liberty and in the full
possession of my spirits and resources; of all of which I had need,
because it was necessary that I should support at the same time two
opposite characters, and at once play the cavalier and lively soldier for
the eyes of Ronald, and to the ears of Flora maintain the same profound
and sentimental note that I had already sounded. Certainly there are
days when all goes well with a man; when his wit, his digestion, his
mistress are in a conspiracy to spoil him, and even the weather smiles
upon his wishes. I will only say of myself upon that evening that I
surpassed my expectations, and was privileged to delight my hosts.
Little by little they forgot their terrors and I my caution; until at
last we were brought back to earth by a catastrophe that might very
easily have been foreseen, but was not the less astonishing to us when it
occurred.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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