The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 20Stevenson, Robert Louis
General
The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 20
Stevenson, Robert Louis
French -- England -- Fiction; Prisoners of war -- Fiction
The rest of the day I slept in the corner of the hen-house upon Flora's
shawl. Nor did I awake until a light shone suddenly in my eyes, and
starting up with a gasp (for, indeed, at the moment I dreamed I was
still swinging from the Castle battlements) I found Ronald bending over
me with a lantern. It appeared it was past midnight, that I had slept
about sixteen hours, and that Flora had returned her poultry to the shed
and I had heard her not. I could not but wonder if she had stooped to
look at me as I slept. The puritan hens now slept irremediably; and
being cheered with the promise of supper I wished them an ironical
good-night, and was lighted across the garden and noiselessly admitted
to a bedroom on the ground-floor of the cottage. There I found soap,
water, razors--offered me diffidently by my beardless host--and an
outfit of new clothes. To be shaved again without depending on the
barber of the gaol was a source of a delicious, if a childish joy. My
hair was sadly too long, but I was none so unwise as to make an attempt
on it myself. And, indeed, I thought it did not wholly misbecome me as
it was, being by nature curly. The clothes were about as good as I
expected. The waistcoat was of toilenet, a pretty piece, the trousers of
fine kerseymere, and the coat sat extraordinarily well. Altogether, when
I beheld this changeling in the glass, I kissed my hand to him.
"My dear fellow," said I, "have you no scent?"
"Good God, no!" cried Ronald. "What do you want with scent?"
"Capital thing on a campaign," said I. "But I can do without."
I was now led, with the same precautions against noise, into the little
bow-windowed dining-room of the cottage. The shutters were up, the lamp
guiltily turned low; the beautiful Flora greeted me in a whisper; and
when I was set down to table, the pair proceeded to help me with
precautions that might have seemed excessive in the Ear of Dionysius.
"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 eye-glass 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 B was untenanted.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account