Of Silver we have heard no more. That formidable seafaring man with one leg has at last gone clean out of my life; but I dare say he met his old Negress, and perhaps still lives in comfort with her and Captain Flint. It is to be hoped so, I suppose, for his chances of comfort in another world are very small.
The bar silver and the arms still lie, for all that I know, where Flint buried them; and certainly they shall lie there for me. Oxen and wain-ropes would not bring me back again to that accursed island; and the worst dreams that ever I have are when I hear the surf booming about its coasts or start upright in bed with the sharp voice of Captain Flint still ringing in my ears: “Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!”
The End
Kidnapped
Chapter I. I Set Off upon My Journey to the House of Shaws
Chapter 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 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 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 XXIV. The Flight in the Heather: The Quarrel
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 I
I Set Off upon My Journey to the House of Shaws
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