The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 11
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Robert Louis Stevenson. The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson – Swanston Edition. Volume 11
TO CHARLES BAXTER. WRITER TO THE SIGNET
PART I. THE LORD ADVOCATE
CHAPTER I. A BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK
CHAPTER II. THE HIGHLAND WRITER
CHAPTER III. I GO TO PILRIG
CHAPTER IV. LORD ADVOCATE PRESTONGRANGE
CHAPTER V. IN THE ADVOCATE’S HOUSE
CHAPTER VI. UMQUHILE THE MASTER OF LOVAT
CHAPTER VII. I MAKE A FAULT IN HONOUR
CHAPTER VIII. THE BRAVO
CHAPTER IX. THE HEATHER ON FIRE
CHAPTER X. THE RED-HEADED MAN
CHAPTER XI. THE WOOD BY SILVERMILLS
CHAPTER XII. ON THE MARCH AGAIN WITH ALAN
CHAPTER XIII. GILLANE SANDS
CHAPTER XIV. THE BASS
CHAPTER XV. BLACK ANDIE’S TALE OF TOD LAPRAIK
CHAPTER XVI. THE MISSING WITNESS
CHAPTER XVII. THE MEMORIAL
CHAPTER XVIII. THE TEE’D BALL
CHAPTER XIX. I AM MUCH IN THE HANDS OF THE LADIES
CHAPTER XX. I CONTINUE TO MOVE IN GOOD SOCIETY
PART II. FATHER AND DAUGHTER
CHAPTER XXI. THE VOYAGE INTO HOLLAND
CHAPTER XXII. HELVOETSLUYS
CHAPTER XXIII. TRAVELS IN HOLLAND
CHAPTER XXIV. FULL STORY OF A COPY OF HEINECCIUS
CHAPTER XXV. THE RETURN OF JAMES MORE
CHAPTER XXVI. THE THREESOME
CHAPTER XXVII. A TWOSOME
CHAPTER XXVIII. IN WHICH I AM LEFT ALONE
CHAPTER XXIX. WE MEET IN DUNKIRK
CHAPTER XXX. THE LETTER FROM THE SHIP
CONCLUSION
Отрывок из книги
The 25th day of August, 1751, about two in the afternoon, I, David Balfour, came forth of the British Linen Company, a porter attending me with a bag of money, and some of the chief of these merchants bowing me from their doors. Two days before, and even so late as yestermorning, I was like a beggarman by the wayside, clad in rags, brought down to my last shillings, my companion a condemned traitor, a price set on my own head for a crime with the news of which the country rang. To-day I was served heir to my position in life, a landed laird, a bank-porter by me carrying my gold, recommendations in my pocket, and (in the words of the saying) the ball directly at my foot.
There were two circumstances that served me as ballast to so much sail. The first was the very difficult and deadly business I had still to handle; the second, the place that I was in. The tall, black city, and the numbers and movement and noise of so many folk, made a new world for me, after the moorland braes, the sea-sands, and the still country-sides that I had frequented up to then. The throng of the citizens in particular abashed me. Rankeillor’s son was short and small in the girth; his clothes scarce held on me; and it was plain I was ill qualified to strut in the front of a bank-porter. It was plain, if I did so, I should but set folk laughing, and (what was worse in my case) set them asking questions. So that I behoved to come by some clothes of my own, and in the meanwhile to walk by the porter’s side, and put my hand on his arm as though we were a pair of friends.
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“Alan Breck Stewart was not far off, in a piece of a wood.”
The Advocate laid his pen down. “I think we are playing at cross-purposes,” said he, “which you will find to prove a very ill amusement for yourself.”
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