Kidnapped. Robert Louis Stevenson

be pleased to find his father’s name on the fly leaf; and in the meanwhile it pleases me to set it there, in memory of many days that were happy and some (now perhaps as pleasant to remember) that were sad. If it is strange for me to look back from a distance both in time and space on these bygone adventures of our youth, it must be stranger for you who tread the same streets—who may tomorrow open the door of the old Speculative, where we begin to rank with Scott and Robert Emmet and the beloved and inglorious Macbean—or may pass the corner of the close where that great society, the L.J.R., held its meetings and drank its beer, sitting in the seats of Burns and his companions. I think I see you, moving there by plain daylight, beholding with your natural eyes those places that have now become for your companion a part of the scenery of dreams. How, in the intervals of present business, the past must echo in your memory! Let it not echo often without some kind thoughts of your friend.

      R.L.S. Skerryvore, Bournemouth.

      Contents

       1. I Set Off upon My Journey to the House of Shaws

       2. I Come to My Journey’s End

       3. I Make Acquaintance of My Uncle

       4. I Run a Great Danger in tie House of Shaws

       5. I Go to the Queen’s Ferry

       6. What Befell at the Queen’s Ferry

       7. I Go to Sea in the Brig Covenant of Dysart

       8. The Round-House

       9. The Man with the Belt of Gold

       10. The Siege of the Round-House

       11. The Captain Knuckles Under

       12. I Hear of the Red Fox

       13. The Loss of the Brig

       14. The Islet

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

       16. The Lad with the Silver Button: Across Morven

       17. The Death of the Red Fox

       18. I Talk with Alan in the Wood of Lettermore

       19. The House of Fear

       20. The Flight in the Heather: The Rocks

       21. The Flight in the Heather: The Heugh of Corrynakiegh

       22. The Flight in the Heather: The Muir

       23. Cluny’s Cage

       24. The Flight in the Heather: The Quarrel

       25. In Balquidder

       26. We Pass the Forth

       27. I Come to Mr Rankeillor

       28. I Go in Quest of My Inheritance

       29. I Come into My Kingdom

       30. Good-bye

       1

       I Set Off upon My Journey to the House of Shaws

      I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning 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 allenarly 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 liked 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, peradven-ture 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 this 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 sixteen 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 a surety,” said the Minister, “that would I, and without pause. A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near in by Edinburgh) in two days of walk. If the worst came to the worst, and your high relations (as I cannot but suppose them to be somewhat of your blood) should put you to the door, ye can but walk the two days back again and risp at the manse door. But I would rather hope that ye shall be well received, as your poor father forecast for you; and for anything that I ken, come to be a great man in time. And here Davie laddie,” he resumed, “it lies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and set you on the right guard against the dangers of the world.”

      Here he cast