The Merry Men, and Other Tales and FablesStevenson, Robert Louis
History
The Merry Men, and Other Tales and Fables
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Boys -- Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction; Paranormal fiction; Treasure troves -- Fiction
She heard it, as she had heard the first, with a concerned composure,
and, bidding me lie down and take that rest of which I stood so much in
need, set forth herself in quest of her misguided father. At that age
it would have been a strange thing that put me from either meat or
sleep; I slept long and deep; and it was already long past noon before
I awoke and came downstairs into the kitchen. Mary, Rorie, and the
black castaway were seated about the fire in silence; and I could see
that Mary had been weeping. There was cause enough, as I soon learned,
for tears. First she, and then Rorie, had been forth to seek my uncle;
each in turn had found him perched upon the hill-top, and from each in
turn he had silently and swiftly fled. Rorie had tried to chase him,
but in vain; madness lent a new vigour to his bounds; he sprang from
rock to rock over the widest gullies; he scoured like the wind along
the hill-tops; he doubled and twisted like a hare before the dogs; and
Rorie at length gave in; and the last that he saw, my uncle was seated
as before upon the crest of Aros. Even during the hottest excitement of
the chase, even when the fleet-footed servant had come, for a moment,
very near to capture him, the poor lunatic had uttered not a sound. He
fled, and he was silent, like a beast; and this silence had terrified
his pursuer.
There was something heart-breaking in the situation. How to capture the
madman, how to feed him in the meanwhile, and what to do with him when
he was captured, were the three difficulties that we had to solve.
“The black,” said I, “is the cause of this attack. It may even be his
presence in the house that keeps my uncle on the hill. We have done the
fair thing; he has been fed and warmed under this roof; now I propose
that Rorie put him across the bay in the coble, and take him through
the Ross as far as Grisapol.”
In this proposal Mary heartily concurred; and bidding the black follow
us, we all three descended to the pier. Certainly, Heaven’s will was
declared against Gordon Darnaway; a thing had happened, never
paralleled before in Aros; during the storm, the coble had broken
loose, and, striking on the rough splinters of the pier, now lay in
four feet of water with one side stove in. Three days of work at least
would be required to make her float. But I was not to be beaten. I led
the whole party round to where the gut was narrowest, swam to the other
side, and called to the black to follow me. He signed, with the same
clearness and quiet as before, that he knew not the art; and there was
truth apparent in his signals, it would have occurred to none of us to
doubt his truth; and that hope being over, we must all go back even as
we came to the house of Aros, the negro walking in our midst without
embarrassment.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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