DAVID BALFOUR.

Press, Volume L, Issue 8476, 6 May 1893, Page 2

DAVID BALFOUR.

A SEQUEL TO "KIDNAPPED." By Robert Louis Stevenson. Part I.—The Lori> Advocate. {Continued from last Saturday.) CHAPTER XL—The Wood by SilverMILLS. I lost no time, bub down through the valley ana by Stockbrig and Silvermills as hard as I could stave. It was Alan's tryst to lie every night between twelve and two "in a bit scrog of wood by east of Silvermills and by south the south mill lade." This I found easy enough, where it grew on a steep brae, with the mill lade flowing swift and deep along the foot of it; aud here I began to walk slower and to reflect more reasonably on my employment. I saw I had made but a fool's bargain wibh Cabrions. It was not to be supposed that Neil was sent alone upon his errand, bnt ?erhaps he was the only man belongiug to ames More, in which case I should have done all I could to hang Catriona's father, and nothing the least material to help myself. To tell the truth, I fancied neither one of these ideas. Suppose, by holding back Neil, the girl should have helped to hang her father, I thought she would never forgive herself this side of time. And suppose there were others pursuing mc that moment, what kind of gif c was I come bringing to Alan ! And how would I like that*

I was up with the west end of that wood when these two considerations struck mc like a cudgel. My feet stopped of themselves and my heart along with them. " What wild game is this that I have been playing?" thought I; and tamed instantly upon my heels to go elsewhere. This brought my face toSiivermills; the Sath came, past the village with a crook, ut all plainly visible ; and, Highland or Lowland, there was nobody stirring. Here was my advantage; here was just such a conjecture as Stewart had counselled mc to profit by ; and I ran by the side of the mill-lode, fetched about beyond the east corner of the wood, threaded through the midst of it, and returned to the west salvage, whence I could again command tbe path, and yet be myself unseen. Again it was ail empty, and my heart began to rise.

For more than an hour I sat close in the border of tbe trees, and no hare or eagle could have kept a more particular watch. When that hour began the ton was already

set, bat they sky still all golden and the daylight clear; before the hour was done it had fallen to tbe half mirk, tbe images and distances of things were mingled, and observation began to be difficult. All that time not a foot of man had come east from Silverraills, and the few that had gone west were honest country folk and their good wives, upon the road to their beds. If I were tracked by the most cunning spies in Europe, I judge it was beyond the course of nature they could have any jealousy of where I was; and going a little further home iuto the wood 1 lay down to wait for Alan.

The strain of my attention had been great, for I had watched not the path only, but every bush and field within my vision. That waa now at an end. The moon, which wa9 in her first quarter, glinted a little iv the wood. All round there was a stillness of the country, and as I lay there on my back the next three or four hoars, I had a fine occasion to review my conduct. Two things became plain to me—first, that I had had no right to go that day to Dean, and having gone there, had now no right to be lying where I was. This (where Alau was to come) was iust vbe one wood in all broad Scotland that was, by every proper feeling,clo3ed against mc; I admitted that, and yet stayed on. wondering at myself. I thought of the measure with which I had meted to Citriona that same night; bow I bad prated of the two lives I carried, and had thU3 forcsd her to enjeopardy her father's ; aud how I was here exposiug them again, it seemed .in wantonness. A good conscience is eight parts of couraga, No sooner had I lost conceit of my behaviour, than I seemed to stand disarmed amidst a throng of terror ; of a suddeu I sat »ip. How if I went now loPresfco_erairg<\ caught him—as I still canity might—before be slept;, and made a full submission? Who could blarn_ mc? Not Stewart the writer; I haii but to say that I was followed, despised of getting clear, and so gave in. Not C-triona here, 100, I had my answer ready ; that I eonld not bear she should expose her father. So, in a moment, I could lay all these 'troubles by, which were after all and truly none of mine; swim clear of the Appin murder; i?et forth out of handsfcroke of all the Stewarts aud Campbells, all (he whigs and tories in the land ; and live henceforth to my own mind, and be able to enjoy and to improve my fortunes, and to devote some hours of my youth to courting Catriona, which would be surely a more suitable arrangement than io hide and run mid be followed Hire a hunted thief, and begin over again the dreadful miseries of mv escape with Alan. At first I thought no shame of this capitulation ; I was only amazed I had not thought upon the thing and done it earlier; and began to inquire into the causes of the change. These I traced to my lovvness of spirits, that back to my late recklessness, and that again to the coititno'i, old, public, discousidered -in of self-indulgence. Instantly the text came in my head, '* Bow can Satan cast oub Satan ?" What (I thought) I had, by selfindulgence, and the following of pleasant path-, and the lure of a young maid, cast myself wholly out of conceit with my own character, and jeopardised the lives of James and Alan ? And I was to seek the way out by the same road as 1 had entered in? No: the hurt" that had been caused by self-indulgence must be cured by selfdenial ; the flesh I had pampered must be crucified. I looked about mc for that course which I least liked to follow; this was to leave the wood without waiting to see Alan, and go forth again alone, in the dark and in tbe midst of my perplexed, and dangerous fortunes.

jliave been the more careful to narrate this passage ot my reflections, because I think ib is of some utility, and may serve as an example to young men. But ib must nob be thoughb I was so great an "extremist as bo act upon my principle outrigb". There is reason (they say), in planting kale, ana even in ethic and religion, room for common sense. It was already clo3e ou Alan's hour, and the moon was down. If I left (as I could nob very decently whistle to.my spies to follow mc), they might miss mc in the dark and tack themselves to Alan by mistake. If 1 stayed I could at the least of it set my friend upon his guard which might prove his mere salvation. I had adventured other peoples' safety in a course of selfindulgence; to have endangered them again, and now on a mere design of penance, would have been scarce rational. Accordingly, I had scarce risen from my place ere I sat down again, but already in a different frame of spirits, and equally marvelling at my past weakness and rejoicing in my present composure. . Presently after came a cracklihg in the thicket. Putting ray mouth near down to the ground, I whistled a note or two of Alan's air; an answer came, in a like guarded tone, and soon we had thralled together in the dark. "Is this you ab last,- Davie?" b,e whispered. "Just myself," said I. " God man, but I've been wearying to see ye ! " says he. " I've had bhe longest kind of a time. A' day, I've had my dwelling into the inside of a stack of hay, where I could nae see the nebs of my ten fingers ; and then two hours of ib waiting here for you, and you never coming. Dod, and ye're none too soon the wat it is, with mc to sail the rnoru.' The morn ? what am I saying ?—the day I mean." "Ay, Alan man, the day, sure enough," said I. "It's past twelve now, surely, and ye sail the day. This'll be a long road you have before you." " We'll have a long crack of ib first," said

" Well, indeed, and I have a good deal it will be telling you to hear." said I. And I told him what behooved, making rather a jumble of it, but clear when done. He heard mc out with very few questions, laughing here and there like a man delighted; and the sound of his laughter (above all there iv the dark, where neither one of us coula see the other) was extraordinarily friendly to my heart. "Ay, Davie, ye're a queer character, Bay 3 he, when I "had done," a queer bitch after all, and I have no mind of meeting with tbe like of ye. As for your story, Prestongrange is a Whig—like yourself, so I'll say the less of him, and Dod I I believe he was tha best friend ye had, if ye could only tru?-t him. But Simon Fraser and James Moore are my am kind of cattle, and I'll give them the name that they deserve. The tnuckle black de'il was father to the Prasers, a'body kens thab; and as for bhe Gregara, I never could abye the reck of them since I could stotter on two feet. I bloodied the nose of one, I mind, when I was still so wa'mbly on my legs thab I cowped upon the tOD of him. A proud man was my father thab day, God rest him 1 aud I think he had the cause. I never can deny bur. what Robin was something of a piper," he added: " but as for James More, the de'il guide him for mc!" "One thing we have to consider," said I. " Was Charles Stewart right or wrong? Is it only mc they're after, or the pair of us?" "And what's your am opinion, your that's a man of so much experience," said he. " It passes mc," said I. " And mc, too," says Alan. "Do ye think this lass would keep her word to ye?" he asked. " I do that," said L " Well, there's nae telling," said he. "And any way, that's over aud done ; he'll be joined to the rest ot them lang syne." " How many would ye think there would be of them ? " I asked. " That depends," said Alan. "If it was only you, they would likely send two-three lively, brisk young birkies, and if they thought that I was to appear in that employ, I daresay ten or twelve," said he. It was no use, I gave a little crack of laughter. " And I think your own two eyes will have seen mc drive that number or the double of it nearer hand !" cries he. " It matters the less," said I, " because I am well rid of them for this time. " Nae doubt that's your opinion," said he; "but I would nae be the least surprised if they were hunkering thi3 wood. Ye see, David man, they'll be Hleland folk. There'll be some Erasers (I'm their kine), and some of the Gregara, and I would never deny but what the both of them, and the Gregara in especial, were clever experienced persons. A man kens little till he's driven a sprcagh of neat cattle tsay) ten miles through a throng lowland country and the black soldiers maybe at his trail. It's there thab I learned a great part of my penetration. And ye need nae tea* mc it's better than war: which is the next best, however, though generally rather a bauchle of a business. Now the Gregara have had grand practice." '* No doubt that's a branch of education that was left out with mc," said I.

" And I can see the marks of ib upon ye constantly," said Alan. "But that's tne strange thing about you folk of the college learning; ye're Ignorant, and ye canna see it. Wae's mc for mv Greek aud Hebrew; but, man, I ken that I dinua ken them— there's the differ of it. Now here's you. Ye lie on your wame a bittie in the bield of this wood, and ye tell mc that ye're cuist of these Prasers and Macgregors. Why I 'Because I could nae see them,' says you". Yeblockhead, that's their livelihood." "Take the worst of it," said I, "and what are we to do?"

" lam thinking of that same,".said he. "We might r.vvine. Iγ. woultT nae be greatly to myltaste ; andforbye that, I see reasons against it. J?ttst, if* now unco dark, and it's just humanly possible we might give them the dean slip. If we keep together, we make but the ae>line-oC it; if we gins separate, we make fc'wae of •them; the more likJibood to stave in upon some of these gentry of yours. And then, second, if they keep the track of us, it raav come to to a. fecht for it, yefcDavie ; and then, i'il confers I would be blythe to have you at my oxter, and I think you would be none the worse of having meat, yonr*. So, by ray way of it, we should creep out of tlm wood r.o farther gone than ju«t the inside of the nest nuuute, and hold away east forFillaiie, where rm Ito flud my ship. I'll be like old d«y» while it lasts, Davie ; and (come the time) we 11 have to taink whac you should be douiß. I'm wae to leave ye here, wanting mc. "Hde with ye, then!" says 1., "Do ye ganp back: where you were stoppinß { " De'il a fear 1"' said Alan. " they were good folks to mc, but I think they would be a good deal disappointed if tuey saw my bonny face again. For (the way times go), I amna just what ye would call a wallcome eueet Wliica suake3 mc keener lor your company, Mr David Balfour of the j Shaws, and sec ye up ! For, leave asme ! two cracks here "in the wood vith Charlie I St.ewarc, I hae scarce said blaok or white I since the day we parted at Corstorphine.' With which he rose from his place, and we began to nxoye quietly eastward through the wood. (To be continued.)