DAVID BALFOUR.

Press, Volume L, Issue 8589, 16 September 1893, Page 2

DAVID BALFOUR.

A SEQUEL TO "KIDNAPPED." By Robert Louis Stevenson. Part ll.—Father and Daughter. {Continued from last Saturday. ) CHAPTER XXX.—(Continued.) The way that he was following brought us clo-se in by the windmill, when I wag aware of a man iv seaman's trousers, who seemed to be spying from behind it. Only, of course, we took him in the rear. " See, Alan !" said I. " Wheesht 1" said he " this is my affafr." The man was no doubt a little deafened by the slattering of the mill, and wo got up close before he noticed. Then he turned and we saw he was a big fellow with a mahogany ta.cs. " I think sir," says Alan, " that you speak the English ?" "A r on monsieur," said he, with an incredible bad accent. "Non monsieur," cries Alan, mocking him. " Is that how they learn you French on the Seahorse ? Ye muckle, gutsy hash, here's a Scot's boot to your English hardies!" And bounding on him before he could escape, he dealt the man a kick that laLj him on his nose. Then be stood with a savage smile, and watched him scramble to his feet and scamper off into the sand hills. " Bat it's high time I was clear of these empty bents 1" said Alan ; and continued his way at top speed, and we still following to the back door of Bazin's Inn. It chanced that as we entered by the one door we came face to face with James More entering by the other. " Here 1" said I to Catriona, " quick upstairs with you and make your packets j this is no fit scene for you." In the meanwhile James and Alan had met in the midst of the long room. She passed them close by to reach the stairs; and after she was some way up I saw her turn and gance at them again, though without pausing. Indeed, they were worth looking at. Alan wore as they met one of his best appearances of courtesy and friendliness, yet with something eminently warlike, so that- James smelled danger off the man, as folk smell fire in a house, and 6tood prepared for accident. Time passed. Alan's situation in that solitary place, and his enemies about him, might have daunted Civaar. It made no change in him ; and it was in his old spirit of mockery and daffing that he began the interview. " A bra w good day to ye again, Mr Drummond," said he. " What'U yon business of yours be just about?" " Why, the thing being private, and rather of a long story," says James, "I think it will keep very well till we have eaten." " I'm none so sure of that," said Alan. " It sticks in my mind it's either now or never; for the fact is mc and Mr Balfour here have gotten a line, and we're thinking of the road." I saw a little surprise in James's eye; but he held himself stoutly. " I have but one word to say to care you cf that/*said he, "and that is the name of i my business." j " Say it then,"* says Alan. " Hout; wha I minds for Davie ? " j

" It is a matter that would make us both rich men," said James. " Do ye tell mc that," cries Alan. " I do, sir." said James. " The plain fact is that it is Clony's Treasure." _ " No!" cried Alan. " Have ye got word of it!" " I ken the place, Mr Stewart, and can take you there,"* said James. -This crowns all," says Alan. Well, and I'm glad I came to Dunkirk. And so thia was your business, was it ? Halvers, I'm thinking?" " That is the business, sir," said James. " Well, well," says Alan: and then in the same tone of childlike interest, " it has naething to do with the Seahorse, then ? : he asked. "With what?" asked James. ** Or the lad that I have just kicked the bottom of behind yon windmill!" pursued Al-ui. " Hut, man ! have done withyour Ices! I have Palliser's letter here in my pouch. You're by with it, James More. You can never show your face again with decent folk." . James was taken all aback with it. He ! stood a second motionless and white, then swelled with the iiving anger. "Do you talk to mc, you bastard? he I roared out. , , .. " Ye glee'd swine! " cried Alan, and hit him a sounding buffet on the mouth, and the next wink of time their blades clashed I together. . At the first sound of the bare steel i in- ! stiuctively leaped back from the collision. I The next I saw, James parried a thrust so nearly that I thought, him killed; and it lowed up in my mind that this was tue girl's father, aud in a manner almost my own, and I drew and ran in to sever them. " Keep back, Davie! Are ye daft? D*mn ye, keep backl" roared "Your blood be on your am held then !" I beat their blades down twice. 1 was knocked reeling against the wall; I was back again betwixc them. They took no heed of mc. at each other like two furies. I can never think how I avoided being stabbed myself or stabbing one of these two Rodomonts; and the whole business turned about mc like a piece of n dream, iv the midst of which I heard a great cry from the stair, and Catriona spraug before her father. In the same moment the point of my sword encountered something yielding. It came back to mc reddened. I saw the blood flow on the girl's 'Kerchief and stood sick. " Will you be kilUcg him my eyes, aud mc his daughter, after all?" she cried. J . " My dear. I have done with him, said Alan, and went and sat on a table, with his arms crossed and the sword naked in his hand. Awhile she stood before £he man, panting, with big eyes, then swung suddenly about and faced him. " Begone! " was her word, " take your shame out of my sight; leave mc with clean folk. I am a daughter of Alpin ! Shame of the sons of Alpin, begone ! I It was said with so much passion as ! awoke mc from the horror of my own [ bloodied sword. The two stood facing, she | with the red stain on her kerchief, he white as a rag. I knew him well enough— i I know it must have pierced him in the ! quick place of his soul; but he betook himself to a bravado air. " Wltv," said he, sheathing his sword, though "still with a bright eye on Alan, I " if this brawl is over I will but get my portmanteau —" . "There goes no poekmantie out of this place except with mc," says Alan. "Sir!" cries James. j "James More," says Alan, "this lady daughter of yours is to marry my friend ! Davie, upon the which account I let you pack with a hale carcase. But take you | my advice of it and get that carcase out of harm's way or ower late. Little as you suppose it, there are leemit3 to my temper." "Be damned, sir, but my moneys there !" said James. " I'm vexed about that, too, says Alan, with his funny face, " but now, ye see its mine," And then with more gravity, " Be you advised. James More, you leave this house." James seemed to cast about for a moment in his mind, but'it's to be thought he had enough of Alan's swordsmanship, for he suddenly put oil'his hat to us and (with a face like one of the damned) bade us farewell in a series. To Alan he gave the name of bastard once again : to mc, a worse yet; and the flower of ail the three to bis own daughter. With which he was gone. At the samejtima a spell was lifted from mc. _, " Catriona,*' j cried, " it was me—-10 was mv sword. Oil, are ye "much hurt? " " I know it, Davie. I am loving you for the pain of it.; it was done defending that bad man, ray father. See !" she said, and showed mc a bleeding scratch. " See, you have made a man of mc now. I will carry a wound like an old soldier." Joy that she should be m> little hurt, and the love of her brave'-uature, transported mc, I embraced her, I kissed the wound. " And am I to be out of the kissing, mc that had never lost a chance?" says Alan ; and putting mc aside and taking Catriona by either shoulder, " My dear * he said, " you're a true daughter of, 'Alpin. : By all accounts, he was a very fine man, and he may well be proud of you. If ever I was to get married, it's the marrow of you I would be seeking for a mother to my sons. And I bear a king's name and speak the truth." He said it with a serious heat of admiration that was honey to the girl, and through her, to mc. It seemed to wipe us clean of all Jame* More's disgraces. And the next moment he was just himself aeain. . " A;id now by your leave, my dawties, saiti lie, " this is a' very bonuy ; but Alan Breck '11 be a wee thing nearer to the gallows than he's caring for; and Dod 11 think this U a crand pl.ice to be leaving." The word recalled us to some wisdom Alan ran upstair* and returned with our saddh'-bags- and James More* portmanteau. 1 picked up Calrioha'S bundle where ship, had dropped it on the stair; and we w*ra setting forth out of that dangerous house when Basin stopped the way with cries and gesticulations. He had whipped under a table when the swords wcie drawn, but vow he was as bold as a lion. There was his bill to be settled, there was a chair broken, Alan had sat among his dinner things. James More had fled. , "Her.%" I cried, "pay yourself,; and flung him down seme Lewie d'oro, for I thought it no time to be accounting. He sprang upon that money, and we passed him by and ran forth into the open. Upon three sides of the house were seamen hasting and closing in ; a little nearer to ua James More waved his hat as if to hurry them, and right behind him, like some foolish person holding up its hands, were the sails of the windmill turning. Alan gave but the o«p glance, and laid himself down to run. He carried a great weight in James More's portmanteau ; but I think he would as soon have lost his life as cast away that booty, which was his revenge, and he ran so that I was distressed to follow him, and marvelled and exulted to see the girl bounding at my side. As soon a« we appeared, they cast off all disguise upon the other side, and the' seamen pursued os with shouts and viewhullohs. We had a start of some two hundred yards, and they were but bandylegged tarpaulins after all, that could not hope to better us at such an exercise. I suppose they were armed, but did not care to use their'pistols on French ground, and as soon an I perceived that we not only held our advantage, but drew a little away I began to feel quite easy of the issue. For all which, it was a hot, brisk bit of work so long as it lasted. Dunkirk was still far off, and when we popped, over a knowe and found a company of the garrison marching on the other side on some manoeuvre, I could very well understand the word that Alan had. He stopped running, at once, and mopping at his brow, "They're a real bonny folk, the French nation." says he. CONCLUSION. No sooner were we safe within the walls I of Dunkirk than we held a very necessary council-of-war on our position. We had taken a daughter from her father at the sword's point; any judge would give her back to him at once, and by all likelihood clap mc and Alan into gaol; and though we had an argument upon our side in Captain Palisers letter, neither Catriona nor I were very keen to be usingifc in public. Upon all accounts it seemed the most prudent to carry the girl to Paris to the hands of her own chieftaiu, Macgregor of Bohaldie, who would be very willing to help his kinswoman, on the one hand, and not at all anxious to dishonour James upon the other. We made but a slow journey of it up, for Catriona was not so good at the riding as the running, and had scarce sat in a saddle since the Forty-five. Bnt we made it out at last, reached Paris early of a Sabbath morning, and made all speed, under Alan's guidance, to find Bohaldie. He was finely lodged, and lived in a good style, having a pension in the Scots Fond, as well as private means ; greeted Catriona like one of his own house, and seemed altogether very civil and discreet, but not particularly open. We a-dced of the news of James More. " Poor James ! ** said he, and shook r is head and smiled, so that I thought he knew further than he meant to tell. Then ,

•we showed him Paliser's letter, and he drew a long face at that. ** Poor James!" said he again. * Well, there are worse folk than James More, too. But this is dreadful bad. Tut, tut. be must have forgot himself entirely ! This is a most undesirable letter. But for all that, gentlemen, I cannot see what we would want to make it public for. It's an ill bird that fouls Us own ne*t, n and we are all Scots folk ana all Hieland." Upon this we were all agreed, save perhaps Alan, and still more upon the question of our marriage, which Bohaldie took in his own hands, as though there had been no such person as James More, and gave Catriona away with very pretty manners and agreeable compliments in French. It was not till all was over, and onr healths drunk, that be told ns James was in that city, whither he had preceded us some days, and where he now lay sick, and like to die. I thought I saw by my wife's face what way her inclination pointed. " And let us go-see him, then, said I. "If it is your pleasure," said Catriona. These were early days. He was lodged in tiie same quarter of the city with his chief, in a great house upon a corner; and we were guided up to the garret where he lay by the sound of Highland piping. It seemed he had just borrowed a set of them from Bohaldie to amuse his sickness; though he was no such hand as his brother Rob, he made good music of the kind; and it was strange to observe the French folk crowding on the stairs, and some of them laughing. He lav propped on a pallet. Tbe first look of him, I saw he was upon his lose business; and, doubtless, this was a strange place tor him to die in. But even now I fiud I can scarce dwell upon his end with patiecce. Doubtless Bohaldie had prepared him—he seemed to know we were married, complimented us on the event, and gave us a benediction like a patriarch. 'I have been never understood,' said he. 'I forgive you both without an afterthought '; after which he spoke for all the world in his old manner, was so obliging as to play us a tune or two upon his pipes, and borrowed a small sum before I left. I could not trace even a hint of shame in any part of his behaviour; but he was arreat upon forgiveness, it always seemed fresh to him. I think he forgave mc every time we met: and when after some four days he passed away in a kind of odour of affectionate sanctity. I could have torn my hair out for exasperation. I had bim buried ; but what to put upon his tomb was quite beyond mc, till at last I considered the date would look best alone. I thought it wiser to resign all thoughts of Leyden, where we had appeared ouce as brother and sister, and it would certainly look strange to return in a new character. Scotland would be doing for us; and thither, after I had recovered that which I had left behind, we sailed in a Low Country ship. And now, Miss Barbara Balfour (to set the ladies first) and Mr Alan Balfour, younger of Shaws, here is the story brought fairly to an end. A great many of the folk that took a part; in i% you will find (if you think well) that yon have seen and spoken with. Alison Hastie in Limekilns was the last that rocked your cradle when you were too small to know of it, and walked abroad with you in the policy when yoa were bigger. That very fine great lady, that is Miss Barbara's name-mamma is no other than the same Miss Grant that made so much a fool of David Balfour in the housß of the Lord Advocate. And I wonder whether you remember a little lean, lively gentleman in a scraich-wig-and a wr/iprascai, that came to Shaws very late of a dark night, and whom you were awakened out of your beds, and brought down to the dining-hall to bo presented to by the name of Mr Jamieson ? Or has Alan forgotton what he did at Mr Jamin son's request—a moat disloyal act—for which, by the letter of the law, he might be hangiid—no less than drinking the king's health across the water ? These were strange doings in a good Whig house 1 But Mr Jamieson is a man privileged, and might set fire to my corn-barn ; and the name they know him by now in France is the Chevalier Stewart. As for Davie and Catriona, I shall watch you pretty close in the next days, and see if you are so bold as to be laughing at papa and mamma. It is true we were nob so wise as we might have been, and made a great deal of sorrow out of nothing; but you will find as you grow up that even the artful Miss Barbara, and even the valiant Mr Alan will be not so very much wiser than their parents. For tho life of man upon this world of ours is a funny business. They talk of the angels weeping; but I think they mu*t be more ofcen holding their sides, as they look on; and there was one thing I determined to do when I began this long story, and that was to tell out everything as it befell. The End.