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
But this was not for long. As I beheld her so regardless of her own
interests, which I had jeopardised and was now endeavouring to recover,
I redoubled my own coldness in the manner of a lesson to the girl. The
more she came forward, the further I drew back; the more she betrayed
the closeness of our intimacy, the more pointedly civil I became, until
even her father (if he had not been so engrossed with eating) might have
observed the opposition. In the midst of which, of a sudden, she became
wholly changed, and I told myself, with a good deal of relief, that she
had took the hint at last.
All day I was at my classes or in quest of my new lodging; and though
the hour of our customary walk hung miserably on my hands, I cannot say
but I was happy on the whole to find my way cleared, the girl again in
proper keeping, the father satisfied, or at least acquiescent, and
myself free to prosecute my love with honour. At supper, as at all our
meals, it was James More that did the talking. No doubt but he talked
well, if any one could have believed him. But I will speak of him
presently more at large. The meal at an end, he rose, got his
great-coat, and looking (as I thought) at me, observed he had affairs
abroad. I took this for a hint that I was to be going also, and got up;
whereupon the girl, who had scarce given me greeting at my entrance,
turned her eyes on me wide open, with a look that bade me stay. I stood
between them like a fish out of water, turning from one to the other;
neither seemed to observe me, she gazing on the floor, he buttoning his
coat: which vastly swelled my embarrassment. This appearance of
indifference argued, upon her side, a good deal of anger very near to
burst out. Upon his, I thought it horribly alarming; I made sure there
was a tempest brewing there; and considering that to be the chief peril,
turned towards him and put myself (so to speak) in the man's hands.
"Can I do anything for _you_, Mr. Drummond?" says I.
He stifled a yawn, which again I thought to be duplicity. "Why, Mr.
David," said he, "since you are so obliging as to propose it, you might
show me the way to a certain tavern" (of which he gave the name) "where
I hope to fall in with some old companions in arms."
There was no more to say, and I got my hat and cloak to bear him
company.
"And as for you," says he to his daughter, "you had best go to your bed.
I shall be late home, and _Early to bed and early to rise, gars bonny
lasses have bright eyes_."
Whereupon he kissed her with a good deal of tenderness, and ushered me
before him from the door. This was so done (I thought on purpose) that
it was scarce possible there should be any parting salutation; but I
observed she did not look at me, and set it down to terror of James
More.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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