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Munro Neil. The New Road
The New Road
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I. THE DOVECOTE TOWER
CHAPTER II. AT THE OUTPOST
CHAPTER III. NINIAN MACGREGOR CAMPBELL
CHAPTER IV. DRIMDORRAN
CHAPTER V. A CALL TO THE NORTH
CHAPTER VI. THE ANGLER
CHAPTER VII. THE INN AT BUACHAILLE ETIVE
CHAPTER VIII. COL-OF-THE-TRICKS
CHAPTER IX. BARISDALE’S MART
CHAPTER X. THE WICKED BOUNDS
CHAPTER XI. ÆNEAS-OF-THE-PISTOL
CHAPTER XII. CORRYARRICK PASS
CHAPTER XIII. IN THE WAY OF TRADE
CHAPTER XIV. INVERNESS
CHAPTER XV. THE DEN
CHAPTER XVI. DEAD MEN’S BONES
CHAPTER XVII. CASTLE DOUNIE AGAIN
CHAPTER XVIII. A HANK UNRAVELLED
CHAPTER XIX. THE TRAMMEL NET
CHAPTER XX. TO THE WOODS
CHAPTER XXI. JANET
CHAPTER XXII. BY BUNCHREW BURN
CHAPTER XXIII. NIGHT-LADS
CHAPTER XXIV. AT THE EBB-TIDE
CHAPTER XXV. THE WAYWARD LASS
CHAPTER XXVI. THE ESCAPE
CHAPTER XXVII. THE ADVOCATE COMMANDS
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE RETURN
CHAPTER XXIX. CANDLE-LIGHT
CHAPTER XXX. A SEARCH
CHAPTER XXXI. THE MAN FROM GUNNA
CHAPTER XXXII. CONFESSIONS
CHAPTER XXXIII. NIGHT-WANDERING
CHAPTER XXXIV. CONTENTS OF A BARREL
CHAPTER XXXV. THE PORTRAIT
CHAPTER XXXVI. THE COBBLER’S SONG
CHAPTER XXXVII. DIRK
Отрывок из книги
Neil Munro
Published by Good Press, 2021
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It was a little silver snuffbox, which she opened with the pressure of a finger so that he could see inside the lid of it the miniature of a girl. Indeed the portrait justified Margaret’s admiration; it pleased the casual glance immediately, and opened up some curious charms to the more intent examination. Holding it up to the lantern lozen, Æneas devoured its every feature—the little tilted chin, the lips a bit apart in what might either be a smile or an inward breath of something on the verge of tears, the forehead swept by waves of auburn hair that had in parts the copper hue of winter breckans, the throat that seemed even in the paint to have the animation of a voice that would be sweet, the gradual white shoulders just escaping from the shelter of a crimson cloak. What hit most strongly at the sentiment of Æneas was a kind of pause in the expression; in some moment of suspended eagerness the woman had been taken, and something of rebellion cried from her parted lips and in her lifted eyes.
“My goodness!” he cried out, “it is a jewel! The heart of me is half divided between the fellow who could paint it and the darling who could give him such a chance. It’s Holbein, honest man! with something of the mountain breeze in him, and it puts me out of taste with all yon round fat faces that they have in Amsterdam! Where on earth did you get it?”
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