The Greatest Adventure Books - Robert Louis Stevenson Edition (Illustrated). Robert Louis Stevenson

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

      SHE DROPPED ME ONE OF HER CURTSEYS, WHICH WERE EXTRAORDINARY TAKING

      Dedication

       Table of Contents

      TO CHARLES BAXTER, Writer to the Signet.

      My Dear Charles,

      It is the fate of sequels to disappoint those who have waited for them; and my David, having been left to kick his heels for more than a lustre in the British Linen Company’s office, must expect his late reappearance to be greeted with hoots, if not with missiles. Yet, when I remember the days of our explorations, I am not without hope. There should be left in our native city some seed of the elect; some long-legged, hot-headed youth must repeat to-day our dreams and wanderings of so many years ago; he will relish the pleasure, which should have been ours, to follow among named streets and numbered houses the country walks of David Balfour, to identify Dean, and Silvermills, and Broughton, and Hope Park, and Pilrig, and poor old Lochend - if it still be standing, and the Figgate Whins - if there be any of them left; or to push (on a long holiday) so far afield as Gillane or the Bass. So, perhaps, his eye shall be opened to behold the series of the generations, and he shall weigh with surprise his momentous and nugatory gift of life.

      You are still - as when first I saw, as when I last addressed you - in the venerable city which I must always think of as my home. And I have come so far; and the sights and thoughts of my youth pursue me; and I see like a vision the youth of my father, and of his father, and the whole stream of lives flowing down there far in the north, with the sound of laughter and tears, to cast me out in the end, as by a sudden freshet, on these ultimate islands. And I admire and bow my head before the romance of destiny.

      R. L. S.

       Vailima, Upolu,

       Samoa, 1892.

      Part I

       The Lord Advocate

       Table of Contents

      Chapter I

       A Beggar on Horseback

       Table of Contents

      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 countrysides 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 behooved 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.

      At a merchant’s in the Luckenbooths I had myself fitted out: none too fine, for I had no idea to appear like a beggar on horseback; but comely and responsible, so that servants should respect me. Thence to an armourer’s, where I got a plain sword, to suit with my degree in life. I felt safer with the weapon, though (for one so ignorant of defence) it might be called an added danger. The porter, who was naturally a man of some experience, judged my accoutrement to be well chosen.

      “Naething kenspeckle,” said he; “plain, dacent claes. As for the rapier, nae doubt it sits wi’ your degree;