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 I had other matters on my hand more pressing. Here I was in this
old, black city, which was for all the world like a rabbit-warren, not
only by the number of its indwellers, but the complication of its
passages and holes. It was indeed a place where no stranger had a chance
to find a friend, let be another stranger. Suppose him even to hit on
the right close, people dwelt so thronged in these tall houses, he might
very well seek a day before he chanced on the right door. The ordinary
course was to hire a lad they called a _caddie_, who was like a guide or
pilot, led you where you had occasion, and (your errands being done)
brought you again where you were lodging. But these caddies, being
always employed in the same sort of services, and having it for
obligation to be well informed of every house and person in the city,
had grown to form a brotherhood of spies; and I knew from tales of Mr.
Campbell's how they communicated one with another, what a rage of
curiosity they conceived as to their employer's business, and how they
were like eyes and fingers to the police. It would be a piece of little
wisdom, the way I was now placed, to tack such a ferret to my tails. I
had three visits to make, all immediately needful: to my kinsman Mr.
Balfour of Pilrig, to Stewart the Writer that was Appin's agent, and to
William Grant, Esquire of Prestongrange, Lord Advocate of Scotland. Mr.
Balfour's was a non-committal visit; and besides (Pilrig being in the
country) I made bold to find the way to it myself, with the help of my
two legs and a Scots tongue. But the rest were in a different case. Not
only was the visit to Appin's agent, in the midst of the cry about the
Appin murder, dangerous in itself, but it was highly inconsistent with
the other. I was like to have a bad enough time of it with my Lord
Advocate Grant, the best of ways; but to go to him hot-foot from Appin's
agent was little likely to mend my own affairs, and might prove the mere
ruin of friend Alan's. The whole thing, besides, gave me a look of
running with the hare and hunting with the hounds that was little to my
fancy. I determined, therefore, to be done at once with Mr. Stewart and
the whole Jacobitical side of my business, and to profit for that
purpose by the guidance of the porter at my side. But it chanced I had
scarce given him the address, when there came a sprinkle of
rain--nothing to hurt, only for my new clothes--and we took shelter
under a pend at the head of a close or alley.
Being strange to what I saw, I stepped a little farther in. The narrow
paved way descended swiftly. Prodigious tall houses sprang up on each
side and bulged out, one story beyond another, as they rose. At the top
only a ribbon of sky showed in. By what I could spy in the windows, and
by the respectable persons that passed out and in, I saw the houses to
be very well occupied; and the whole appearance of the place interested
me like a tale.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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