David Balfour

by Robert Louis Stevenson

  CHAPTER I

  A BEGGAR ON HORSEBACK

  The 25th day of August, 1751, about two in the afternoon, I, DavidBalfour, came forth of the British Linen Company, a porter attending mewith a bag of money, and some of the chief of these merchants bowing mefrom their doors. Two days before, and even so late as yestermorning, Iwas like a beggarman by the wayside, clad in rags, brought down to mylast shillings, my companion a condemned traitor, a price set on my ownhead for a crime with the news of which the country rang. To-day I wasserved heir to my position in life, a landed laird, a bank porter by mecarrying my gold, recommendations in my pocket, and (in the words of thesaying) 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 tohandle; the second, the place that I was in. The tall, black city, andthe numbers and movement and noise of so many folk, made a new world forme, after the moorland braes, the sea-sands, and the still country-sidesthat I had frequented up to then. The throng of the citizens inparticular abashed me. Rankeillor's son was short and small in thegirth; his clothes scarce held on me; and it was plain I was illqualified to strut in the front of a bank-porter. It was plain, if I didso, I should but set folk laughing, and (what was worse in my case) setthem asking questions. So that I behooved to come by some clothes of myown, and in the meanwhile to walk by the porter's side, and put my handon his arm as though we were a pair of friends.

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

  "Naething kenspeckle,"[1] said he, "plain, dacent claes. As for therapier, nae doubt it sits wi' your degree; but an I had been you, Iwould hae waired my siller better-gates than that." And proposed Ishould buy winter-hosen from a wife in the Cowgate-back, that was acousin of his own, and made them "extraordinar endurable."

  But I had other matters on my hand more pressing. Here I was in thisold, black city, which was for all the world like a rabbit-warren, notonly by the number of its indwellers, but the complication of itspassages and holes. It was indeed a place where no stranger had a chanceto find a friend, let be another stranger. Suppose him even to hit onthe right close, people dwelt so thronged in these tall houses, he mightvery well seek a day before he chanced on the right door. The ordinarycourse was to hire a lad they called a _caddie_, who was like a guide orpilot, led you where you had occasion, and (your errands being done)brought you again where you were lodging. But these caddies, beingalways employed in the same sort of services, and having it forobligation to be well informed of every house and person in the city,had grown to form a brotherhood of spies; and I knew from tales of Mr.Campbell's how they communicated one with another, what a rage ofcuriosity they conceived as to their employer's business, and how theywere like eyes and fingers to the police. It would be a piece of littlewisdom, the way I was now placed, to tack such a ferret to my tails. Ihad three visits to make, all immediately needful: to my kinsman Mr.Balfour of Pilrig, to Stewart the Writer that was Appin's agent, and toWilliam Grant Esquire of Prestongrange, Lord Advocate of Scotland. Mr.Balfour's was a non-committal visit; and besides (Pilrig being in thecountry) I made bold to find way to it myself, with the help of my twolegs and a Scots tongue. But the rest were in a different case. Not onlywas the visit to Appin's agent, in the midst of the cry about the Appinmurder, dangerous in itself, but it was highly inconsistent with theother. I was like to have a bad enough time of it with my Lord AdvocateGrant, the best of ways; but to go to him hot-foot from Appin's agent,was little likely to mend my own affairs, and might prove the mere ruinof friend Alan's. The whole thing, besides, gave me a look of runningwith the hare and hunting with the hounds that was little to my fancy. Idetermined, therefore, to be done at once with Mr. Stewart and the wholeJacobitical side of my business, and to profit for that purpose by theguidance of the porter at my side. But it chanced I had scarce given himthe address, when there came a sprinkle of rain--nothing to hurt, onlyfor my new clothes--and we took shelter under a pend at the head of aclose or alley.

  Being strange to what I saw, I stepped a little farther in. The narrowpaved way descended swiftly. Prodigious tall houses sprang upon eachside and bulged out, one story beyond another, as they rose. At the toponly a ribbon of sky showed in. By what I could spy in the windows, andby the respectable persons that passed out and in, I saw the houses tobe very well occupied; and the whole appearance of the place interestedme like a tale.

  I was still gazing, when there came a sudden brisk tramp of feet in timeand clash of steel behind me. Turning quickly, I was aware of a party ofarmed soldiers, and, in their midst, a tall man in a great-coat. Hewalked with a stoop that was like a piece of courtesy, genteel andinsinuating: he waved his hands plausibly as he went, and his face wassly and handsome. I thought his eye took me in, but could not meet it.This procession went by to a door in the close, which a serving-man in afine livery set open; and two of the soldier-lads carried the prisonerwithin, the rest lingering with their firelocks by the door.

  There can nothing pass in the streets of a city without some followingof idle folk and children. It was so now; but the more part melted awayincontinent until but three were left. One was a girl; she was dressedlike a lady, and had a screen of the Drummond colours on her head; buther comrades or (I should say) followers were ragged gillies, such as Ihad seen the matches of by the dozen in my Highland journey. They allspoke together earnestly in Gaelic, the sound of which was pleasant inmy ears for the sake of Alan; and though the rain was by again, and myporter plucked at me to be going, I even drew nearer where they were, tolisten. The lady scolded sharply, the others making apologies andcringeing before her, so that I made sure she was come of a chief'shouse. All the while the three of them sought in their pockets, and bywhat I could make out, they had the matter of half a farthing among theparty; which made me smile a little to see all Highland folk alike forfine obeisances and empty sporrans.

  It chanced the girl turned suddenly about, so that I saw her face forthe first time. There is no greater wonder than the way the face of ayoung woman fits in a man's mind, and stays there, and he could nevertell you why; it just seems it was the thing he wanted. She hadwonderful bright eyes like stars, and I daresay the eyes had a part init; but what I remember the most clearly was the way her lips were atrifle open as she turned. And whatever was the cause, I stood therestaring like a fool. On her side, as she had not known there was anyoneso near, she looked at me a little longer, and perhaps with moresurprise, than was entirely civil.

  It went through my country head she might be wondering at my newclothes; with that, I blushed to my hair, and at the sight of mycolouring it's to be supposed she drew her own conclusions, for shemoved her gillies farther down the close, and they fell again to thisdispute where I could hear no more of it.

  I had often admired a lassie before then, if scarce so sudden andstrong; and it was rather my disposition to withdraw than to comeforward, for I was much in fear of mockery from the womenkind. You wouldhave thought I had now all the more reason to pursue my common practice,since I had met this young lady in the city street, seemingly followinga prisoner, and accompanied with two very ragged, indecent-likeHighlandmen. But there was here a different ingredient; it was plain thegirl thought I had been prying in her secrets; and with my new clothesand sword, and at the top of my new fortunes, this was more than I couldswallow. The beggar on horseback could not bear to be thrust down solow, or at the least of it, not by this young lady.

  I followed, accordingly, and took off my new hat to her, the best that Iwas able.

  "Madam," said I, "I think it only
fair to myself to let you understand Ihave no Gaelic. It is true I was listening, for I have friends of my ownacross the Highland line, and the sound of that tongue comes friendly;but for your private affairs, if you had spoken Greek, I might have hadmore guess at them."

  She made me a little, distant curtsey. "There is no harm done," saidshe, with a pretty accent, most like the English (but more agreeable)."A cat may look at a king."

  "I do not mean to offend," said I. "I have no skill of city manners; Inever before this day set foot inside the doors of Edinburgh. Take mefor a country lad--it's what I am; and I would rather I told you thanyou found it out."

  "Indeed, it will be a very unusual thing for strangers to be speaking toeach other on the causeway," she replied. "But if you are landward[2]bred it will be different. I am as landward as yourself; I am Highlandas you see, and think myself the farther from my home."

  "It is not yet a week since I passed the line," said I. "Less than aweek ago I was on the Braes of Balwhidder."

  "Balwhither?" she cries; "come ye from Balwhither? The name of it makesall there is of me rejoice. You will not have been long there, and notknown some of our friends or family?"

  "I lived with a very honest, kind man called Duncan Dhu Maclaren," Ireplied.

  "Well I know Duncan, and you give him the true name!" she said; "and ifhe is an honest man, his wife is honest indeed."

  "Ay," said I, "they are fine people, and the place is a bonny place."

  "Where in the great world is such another?" she cries; "I am loving thesmell of that place and the roots that grew there."

  I was infinitely taken with the spirit of the maid. "I could be wishingI had brought you a spray of that heather," says I. "And though I didill to speak with you at the first, now it seems we have commonacquaintance, I make it my petition you will not forget me. DavidBalfour is the name I am known by. This is my lucky day when I have justcome into a landed estate and am not very long out of a deadly peril. Iwish you would keep my name in mind for the sake of Balquidder," said I,"and I will yours for the sake of my lucky day."

  "My name is not spoken," she replied, with a great deal of haughtiness."More than a hundred years it has not gone upon men's tongues, save fora blink. I am nameless like the Folk of Peace.[3] Catriona Drummond isthe one I use."

  Now indeed I knew where I was standing. In all broad Scotland there wasbut the one name proscribed, and that was the name of the Macgregors.Yet so far from fleeing this undesirable acquaintancy, I plunged thedeeper in.

  "I have been sitting with one who was in the same case with yourself,"said I, "and I think he will be one of your friends. They called himRobin Oig."

  "Did ye so?" cries she. "Ye met Rob?"

  "I passed the night with him," said I.

  "He is a fowl of the night," said she.

  "There was a set of pipes there," I went on, "so you may judge if thetime passed."

  "You should be no enemy, at all events," said she. "That was his brotherthere a moment since, with the red soldiers round him. It is him that Icall father."

  "Is it so?" cried I. "Are you a daughter of James More's?"

  "All the daughter that he has," says she: "the daughter of a prisoner;that I should forget it so, even for one hour, to talk with strangers!"

  Here one of the gillies addressed her in what he had of English, to knowwhat "she" (meaning by that himself) was to do about "ta sneeshin." Itook some note of him for a short, bandy-legged, red-haired, big-headedman, that I was to know more of to my cost.

  "There can be none the day, Neil," she replied. "How will you get'sneeshin,' wanting siller? It will teach you another time to be morecareful; and I think James More will not be very well pleased with Neilof the Tom."

  "Miss Drummond," I said, "I told you I was in my lucky day. Here I am,and a bank-porter at my tail. And remember I have had the hospitality ofyour own country of Balwhidder."

  "It was not one of my people gave it," said she.

  "Ah, well," said I, "but I am owing your uncle at least for some springsupon the pipes. Besides which, I have offered myself to be your friend,and you have been so forgetful that you did not refuse me in the propertime."

  "If it had been a great sum, it might have done you honour," said she."But I will tell you what this is. James More lies shackled in prison;but this time past, they will be bringing him down here daily to theAdvocate's..."

  "The Advocate's?" I cried. "Is that...?"

  "It is the house of the Lord Advocate, Grant of Prestongrange," saidshe. "There they bring my father one time and another, for what purposeI have no thought in my mind; but it seems there is some hope dawned forhim. All this same time they will not let me be seeing him, nor yet himwrite; and we wait upon the King's street to catch him; and now we givehim his snuff as he goes by, and now something else. And here is thisson of trouble, Neil, son of Duncan, has lost my fourpenny-piece thatwas to buy that snuff, and James More must go wanting, and will thinkhis daughter has forgotten him."

  I took sixpence from my pocket, gave it to Neil, and bade him go abouthis errand. Then to her, "That sixpence came with me by Balwhidder,"said I.

  "Ah!" she said, "you are a friend to the Gregara!"

  "I would not like to deceive you either," said I. "I know very little ofthe Gregara and less of James More and his doings; but since the while Ihave been standing in this close, I seem to know something of yourself;and if you will just say 'a friend to Miss Catriona' I will see you arethe less cheated."

  "The one cannot be without the other," said she.

  "I will even try," said I.

  "And what will you be thinking of myself?" she cried, "to be holding myhand to the first stranger!"

  "I am thinking nothing but that you are a good daughter," said I.

  "I must not be without repaying it," she said; "where is it you stop?"

  "To tell the truth, I am stopping nowhere yet," said I, "being not fullthree hours in the city; but if you will give me your direction, I willbe so bold as come seeking my sixpence for myself."

  "Will I can trust you for that?" she asked.

  "You have little fear," said I.

  "James More could not bear it else," said she. "I stop beyond thevillage of Dean, on the north side of the water, with Mrs.Drummond-Ogilvy of Allardyce, who is my near friend and will be glad tothank you."

  "You are to see me then, so soon as what I have to do permits," said I;and the remembrance of Alan rolling in again upon my mind, I made hasteto say farewell.

  I could not but think, even as I did so, that we had made extraordinaryfree upon short acquaintance, and that a really wise young lady wouldhave shown herself more backward. I think it was the bank-porter thatput me from this ungallant train of thought.

  "I thoucht ye had been a lad of some kind o' sense," he began, shootingout his lips. "Ye're no likely to gang far this gate. A fule and hissiller's shune parted. Eh, but ye're a green callant!" he cried, "an' aveecious, tae! Cleikin' up wi' baubee-joes!"

  "If you dare to speak of the young lady ..." I began.

  "Leddy!" he cried. "Haud us and safe us, whatten leddy? Ca' _thon_ aleddy? The toun's fu' o' them. Leddies! Man, it's weel seen ye're novery acquant in Embro'!"

  A clap of anger took me.

  "Here," said I, "lead me where I told you, and keep your foul mouthshut!"

  He did not wholly obey me, for though he no more addressed me directly,he sang at me as he went in a very impudent manner of innuendo, and withan exceedingly ill voice and ear--

  "As Mally Lee cam doun the street, her capuchin did flee. She cuist a look ahint her to see her negligee, And we're a' gaun east and wast, we're a' gaun ajee, We're a' gaun east and wast courtin' Mally Lee."

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