The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 11Stevenson, Robert Louis
History
The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 11
Stevenson, Robert Louis
Adventure stories; Scotland -- History -- 18th century -- Fiction
We did the next best, as happened; for, about nine of the evening, whom
should we walk into the arms of but Captain Sang? He told us they had
made their run in the most incredible brief time, the wind holding
strong till they reached port; by which means his passengers were all
gone already on their further travels. It was impossible to chase after
the Gebbies into the High Germany, and we had no other acquaintance to
fall back upon but Captain Sang himself. It was the more gratifying to
find the man friendly and wishful to assist. He made it a small affair
to find some good plain family of merchants, where Catriona might
harbour till the _Rose_ was loaden; declared he would then blithely
carry her back to Leith for nothing and see her safe in the hands of Mr.
Gregory; and in the meanwhile carried us to a late ordinary for the meal
we stood in need of. He seemed extremely friendly, as I say, but, what
surprised me a good deal, rather boisterous in the bargain; and the
cause of this was soon to appear. For at the ordinary, calling for
Rhenish wine and drinking of it deep, he soon became unutterably tipsy.
In this case, as too common with all men, but especially with those of
his rough trade, what little sense or manners he possessed deserted him;
and he behaved himself so scandalous to the young lady, jesting most
ill-favouredly at the figure she had made on the ship's rail, that I had
no resource but carry her suddenly away.
She came out of that ordinary clinging to me close. "Take me away,
David," she said. "_You_ keep me. I am not afraid with you."
"And have no cause, my little friend!" cried I, and could have found it
in my heart to weep.
"Where will you be taking me?" she said again. "Don't leave me, at all
events--never leave me."
"Where am I taking you indeed?" says I, stopping, for I had been staving
on ahead in mere blindness. "I must stop and think. But I'll not leave
you, Catriona; the Lord do so to me, and more also, if I should fail or
fash you."
She crept closer in to me by way of a reply.
"Here," I said, "is the stillest place that we have hit on yet in this
busy byke of a city. Let us sit down here under yon tree and consider of
our course."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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