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19 - Kidnapped - Robert Louis Stevenson · Adventure Books Library

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  Chapter nineteen. The House of Fear. Night fell as we were walking,
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  and the clouds which had broken up in the afternoon, settled in and thickened,
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  so that it fell, for the season of the year, extremely dark.
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  The way we went was over rough mountain sides, and though Alan pushed
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  on with an assured manner, I could by no means see how he directed
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  himself. At last, about half past ten of the clock, we came
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  to the top of a bray and saw lights below us. It seemed a
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  house door stood open and let out a beam of fire and candle light,
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  and all round the house and steading five or six persons were moving hurriedly about,
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  each carrying a lighted brand. James must have tint his wits, said
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  Alan. If this was the soldiers instead of you and me, he would
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  be in a bonny mess. But I dare say he'll have a sentry on
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  the road, and he would ken well enough no soldiers would find the way
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  that we came Hereupon he whistles three times in a particular manner. It was
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  strange to see how at the first sound of it, all the moving torches
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  came to a stand, as if the bearers were affrighted, and how at
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  the third the bustle began again as before. Having thus set folks minds at
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  rest, we came down the bray and were met at the yard gate,
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  for this place was like a well doing farm by a tall, handsome man
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  of more than fifty, who cried out to Allan and the Gaelic James Stewart
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  said, Allan, I will ask you to speak in Scotch, for here
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  is a young gentleman with me that has none of the other. This is
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  him, he added, putting his arm through mine, a young gentleman of
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  the lowlands, and a laird in his country too. But I am thinking
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  it will be the better for his health if we give his name. The
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  go by James of the Glens turned to me for a moment and greeted me
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  courteously enough. The next he had turned to Alan. This has been a
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  dreadful accident, he cried. It will be trouble on the country, and
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  he wrung his hands oots said Alan, you must take the sour with the
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  sweet man. Paulin Roy is dead, and be thankful for that, Hi,
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  said James, hen by my troth, I wish he was alive again.
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  It's all very fine to blow him boasts beforehand, But now it's done,
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  Allan, and who's to bear the white of it? The accident fell
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  out and appened, mind you that Allan, it's happen, that must pay.
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  And I am a man that has a family. While this was going
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  on, I looked about me at the servants. Some were on ladders digging
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  in the thatch of the house or the farm buildings, from which they brought
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  out guns, swords, and different weapons of war. Others carried them away,
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  and by the sound of mattock blows from somewhere farther down the bray,
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  I suppose they buried them. Though they were all so busy there prevailed no
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  kind of order in their efforts. Men struggled together for the same gun and
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  ran into each other with their burning torches, and James was con ginually turning
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  about from his talk with Alan to cry out orders which were apparently never understood.
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  The faces in the torch like were like those of people overcome with hurry
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  and panic, and though none spoke above his breath, their speech that of
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  both anxious and angry. It was about this time that a lassie came out
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  of the house carrying a pack or bundle, and it has often made me
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  smile to think how Allan's instinct awoke at the mere sight of it. What's
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  that the lassie has, he asked, We're just setting the house and order,
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  Allan, said James, in his frightened and somewhat fawning way. They'll
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  sarchrappin with candles, and we must have all things straight. We're digging the
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  bit guns and swords into the moste sea, and these, I am thinking,
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  will be your unFrench clothes, will be to bury them. I believe
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  bury my French clothes, cried Alan Troth. No. They laid hold upon
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  the packet and retired into the barn to shift himself, recommending me in the
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  meanwhile to his kinsman. James carried me accordingly into the kitchen and sat down
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  with me at table, smiling and talking at first in a very hospitable manner,
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  but presently the gloom returned upon him. He sat frowning and biting his
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  fingers, only remembered me from time to time, and then gave me but
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  a word or two and a poor smile, and back into his private terrors.
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  His wife sat by the fire and wept with her face in her hands.
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  Her eldest son was crouched upon the floor, running over a great mass
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  of papers, and now and again setting one alight and burning it to the
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  bitter end. All the while a servant lass with a red face, was
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  rummaging about the room in a blind hurry of fear, and whimpering as she
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  went. And every now and again one of the men would thrust in his
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  face from the yard and cry for orders. At last James could keep his
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  seat no longer, and begged my permission to be so unmannerly as walk about.
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  I am but poor company altogether, Sir, says he. But I
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  can think of nothing but this dreadful accident, and the trouble it is like
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  to bring upon quite innocent persons. A little after, he observed his son
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  burning a paper which he thought should have been kept, and at that his
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  excitement burst out, so that it was painful to witness. He struck the
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  lad repeatedly. Are you gondite? He cried, do you wish to hang
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  your father? And forgetful of my presence, carried on at him a long
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  time together in the Gaelic, the young man, answering nothing only the wife
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  at the name of hanging, throwing her apron over her face, and sobbing
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  out louder than before. This was all wretched for a stranger like myself to
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  hear and see. And I was right glad when Alan returned, looking like
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  himself in his fine French clothes, though to be sure they were now grown
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  almost too battered and withered to deserve the name of fine. I was then
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  taken out in my turn by another of the sons, and give even that
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  change of clothing of which I had stood so long in need, and a
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  pair of highland brogues made of deer leather, rather strange at first, but
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  after a little practice, very easy to the feet. By the time I
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  came back, Alan must have told his story, for it seemed understood that
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  I was to fly with him, and they were all busy upon our equipment.
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  They gave us each a sword and pistols, though I professed my inability
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  to use the former, And with these and some ammunition, a bag of
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  oatmeal, an iron pan, and a bottle of bright French brandy, we
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  were ready for the heather. Money indeed was lacking. I had about two
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  guineas left Alan's belt having been dispatched by another hand, that trusty messenger had
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  no more than seventeen pence to his whole fortune. And as for James,
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  it appears he had brought himself so low with journeys to Edinburgh and beagle expenses
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  on behalf of the tenants, that he could only scrape together three and fivepence
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  halfpenny, the most of it in coppers. This do, said Allan.
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  You must find a safe bit somewhere near by, said James, and get
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  words sent to me. You see, you'll have to get this business prettily
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  off, Allan. This is no time to be stayed for a guinea or
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  two. They're sure to get wind of ye, sure to seek ya,
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  and by my way of it, sure to lay on ye the white of
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  this day's accident. If it falls on you, it falls on me,
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  that am your near kinsman and harbored you while you were in the country.
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  And if it comes on me, he paused, and bit his fingers with
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  a white face. It would be a painful thing for our friends if I
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  was to hang, said he. It would be an ill day for appin,
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  says Allan. It's a day that sticks in my throat, said James.
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  Oh Man, Man, Man, Man, Allan, you and me
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  have spoken like two fools, he cried, striking his hand upon the wall
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  so that the house rang again. Well, and that's true too, said
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  Alan. And my friend from the Lowlands here, nodding at me, gave
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  me a good word upon that head, if I would only listened to him.
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  But see here, said James, returning to his former manner. If
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  they lay me by the heels, Allan, it's then that you'll be needin
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  the money, for with all that I have said and that you have said,
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  it will look very black against the two of us. Do ye mark
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  that? Well? Follow me out and ye'll I'll see that. I'll have
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  to get a paper out against ye mysel have to offer a reward for ye
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  ay, will I? It's a sore thing to do between such near friends.
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  But if I get the dirham of this dreadful accident, I'll have to
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  fend for myself. Man, do you see that? He spoke with a
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  pleading earnestness, taking Allan by the breast of the coat, I said,
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  Alan, I see that, and you'll have to be clear of the country,
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  Alan, ay, and clearer Scotland you and your friend from the Lowlands
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  too, for I'll have to paper your friend from the lowlands. You'll see
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  that, Allan, say that, you see that. I thought Allan flushed
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  a bit. This is uncle hard on me that brought him here, James
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  said, he throwing his head back. It's like making me a traitor.
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  No, Allan, man, cried James, look things in the face.
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  He'll be papered anyway, Mungo. Campbell'll be sure to paper him. What
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  matters if I paper him too, And then Allan, I'm a man that
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  has a family. And then, after a little pause on both sides,
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  and Alan it'll be a jury of Campbell's said he. There's one thing,
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  said Allan, musingly, that nobody cans his name, nor yet they shall
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  na Allan, there's my hand on that, cried James, for all the
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  world, as if he had really known my name and was foregoing some advantage.
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  But just the habit he was in, and what he looked like,
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  and his age and the like, I couldna well do less. I wonder
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  at your father's son, cried Alan sternly. Would ye sell the lad with
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  a gift? Would you change his clothes? And then betray him. No,
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  no, Allan said James. No, No, the habit he took
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  off, the habit Mungo saw him in. But I thought he seemed crestfallen.
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  Indeed he was clutching at every straw, and all the time, I
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  dare say, saw the faces of his hereditary foes on the bench and in
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  the jury box, and the gallows in the background. Well, sir,
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  says Allan, turning to me, what say yo to that? Yea here
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  under the safeguard of my honor, and it's my part to see nothing done.
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  But what shall please yer? I have but one word to say,
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  said I, For to all this dispute I am a perfect stranger. But
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  the plain common sense is to set the blame it belongs, and that is
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  on the man who fired the shot, paper him, as you call it,
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  set the hunt on him, and let honest, innocent folks show their
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  faces in safety. But at this both Allan and James cried out in horror,
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  bidding me hold my tongue, for that was not to be thought of,
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  and asking me what the camerons would think, which confirmed me it must
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  have been a cameron from memour that did the act. And if I did
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  not see that the lad might be caught. You have not surely thought of
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  that, said they, with such innocent earnestness that my hands dropped at my
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  side, and I despaired of argument. Very well, then said I paper
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  me, if you please, paper Allen, paper King George. Were all
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  three innocent, and that seems to be what's wanted. But at least,
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  sir, said I to James, recovering from my little fit of annoyance.
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  I am Alan's friend, and if I can be helpful to friends of his,
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  I will not stumble at the risk. I thought it best to put
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  a fair face on my consent, for I saw alan trouble, And besides,
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  thinks I to myself. As soon as my back is turned, they
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  will paper me as they call it, whether I consent or not. But
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  in this I saw I was wrong, for I had no sooner said the
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  words than missus Stewart leaped out of her chair, came running over to us,
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  and wept first upon my neck and then on Allan's blessing God for our
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  goodness to her family. As for you, Allan, it was no more
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  than your bound in duty, she said, But for this lad that has
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  come here and seen us at a worst, and seen the good man fleeching
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  like a suitor, him that by right should give his commands like any king.
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  As for you, my lad, she says, my heart is well
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  not to have your name, but I have your face, And as long
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  as my heart beats under my bosom, I will keep it and think of
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  it and bless it. And with that she kissed me, and burst once
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  more into such sobbing that I stood abashed. Hoot, Hoot, said Allan,
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  looking mighty silly. The day comes uncle soon, in this month of
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  July, and tomorrow there'll be a fine to do, and appen, a
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  fine riding of dragoons, and crying of Krakhun, and running of bredcoats,
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  And it behoos you and me to the sooner be gone. Thereupon we said
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  farewell, and set out again, bending somewhat eastwards in a fine, mild,
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  dark night, and over much the same broken country as before. End of chapter