The Complete Novels of Robert Louis Stevenson (With Original Illustrations). Robert Louis Stevenson

The Complete Novels of Robert Louis Stevenson (With Original Illustrations) - Robert Louis Stevenson


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II. I Come to My Journey’s End

       Chapter III. I Make Acquaintance of My Uncle

       Chapter IV. I Run a Great Danger in the House of Shaws

       Chapter V. I Go to the Queen’s Ferry

       Chapter VI. What Befell at the Queen’s Ferry

       Chapter VII. I Go to Sea in the Brig “Covenant” of Dysart

       Chapter VIII. The Roundhouse

       Chapter IX. The Man with the Belt of Gold

       Chapter X. The Siege of the Roundhouse

       Chapter XI. The Captain Knuckles under

       Chapter XII. I Hear of the “Red Fox”

       Chapter XIII. The Loss of the Brig

       Chapter XIV. The Islet

       Chapter XV. The Lad with the Silver Button: Through the Isle of Mull

       Chapter XVI. The Lad with the Silver Button: Across Morven

       Chapter XVII. The Death of the Red Fox

       Chapter XVIII. I Talk with Alan in the Wood of Lettermore

       Chapter XIX. The House of Fear

       Chapter XX. The Flight in the Heather: The Rocks

       Chapter XXI. The Flight in the Heather: The Heugh of Corrynakiegh

       Chapter XXII. The Flight in the Heather: The Moor

       Chapter XXIII. Cluny’s Cage

       Chapter XXIV. The Flight in the Heather: The Quarrel

       Chapter XXV. In Balquhidder

       Chapter XXVI. End of the Flight: We Pass the Forth

       Chapter XXVII. I Come to Mr. Rankeillor

       Chapter XXVIII. I Go in Quest of My Inheritance

       Chapter XXIX. I Come into My Kingdom

       Chapter XXX. Goodbye

      Chapter I

       I Set Off upon My Journey to the House of Shaws

       Table of Contents

      I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time out of the door of my father’s house. The sun began to shine upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road; and by the time I had come as far as the manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the garden lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in the time of the dawn was beginning to arise and die away.

      Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me by the garden gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing that I lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his and clapped it kindly under his arm.

      “Well, Davie, lad,” said he, “I will go with you as far as the ford, to set you on the way.” And we began to walk forward in silence.

      “Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?” said he, after awhile.

      “Why, sir,” said I, “if I knew where I was going, or what was likely to become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean is a good place indeed, and I have been very happy there; but then I have never been anywhere else. My father and mother, since they are both dead, I shall be no nearer to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary, and, to speak truth, if I thought I had a chance to better myself where I was going I would go with a good will.”

      “Ay?” said Mr. Campbell. “Very well, Davie. Then it behoves me to tell your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother was gone, and your father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, he gave me in charge a certain letter, which he said was your inheritance. ‘So soon,’ says he, ‘as I am gone, and the house is redd up and the gear disposed of’ (all which, Davie, hath been done), ‘give my boy this letter into his hand, and start him off to the house of Shaws, not far from Cramond. That is the place I came from,’ he said, ‘and it’s where it befits that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,’ your father said, ‘and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, and be well lived where he goes.’“

      “The house of Shaws!” I cried. “What had my poor father to do with the house of Shaws?”

      “Nay,” said Mr. Campbell, “who can tell that for a surety? But the name of that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear — Balfours of Shaws: an ancient, honest, reputable house, peradventure in these latter days decayed. Your father, too, was a man of learning as befitted his position; no man more plausibly conducted school; nor had he the manner or the speech of a common dominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) I took aye a pleasure to have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and those of my own house, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, Campbell of Minch, and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure in his society. Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair before you, here is the testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own hand of our departed brother.”

      He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: “To the hands of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these will be delivered by my son, David Balfour.” My heart was beating hard at this great prospect now suddenly opening before a lad of seventeen years of age, the son of a poor country dominie in the Forest of Ettrick.

      “Mr. Campbell,” I stammered, “and if you were in my shoes, would you go?”

      “Of


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