Kidnapped, Robert Louis Stevenson [best e book reader android .TXT] 📗
- Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
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MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF
DAVID BALFOUR
IN THE YEAR 1751
HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY; HIS SUFFERINGS IN
A DESERT ISLE; HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS;
HIS ACQUAINTANCE WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART
AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES;
WITH ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE
HANDS OF HIS UNCLE, EBENEZER
BALFOUR OF SHAWS, FALSELY
SO CALLED
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF AND NOW SET FORTH BY
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
WITH A PREFACE BY MRS. STEVENSON
PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ICHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
CHAPTER XXIII
CHAPTER XXIV
CHAPTER XXV
CHAPTER XXVI
CHAPTER XXVII
CHAPTER XXVIII
CHAPTER XXIX
CHAPTER XXX I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS
I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END
I MAKE ACQUAINTANCE OF MY UNCLE
I RUN A GREAT DANGER IN THE HOUSE OF SHAWS
I GO TO THE QUEEN’S FERRY
WHAT BEFELL AT THE QUEEN’S FERRY
I GO TO SEA IN THE BRIG “COVENANT” OF DYSART
THE ROUND-HOUSE
THE MAN WITH THE BELT OF GOLD
THE SIEGE OF THE ROUND-HOUSE
THE CAPTAIN KNUCKLES UNDER
I HEAR OF THE “RED FOX”
THE LOSS OF THE BRIG
THE ISLET
THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: THROUGH THE ISLE OF MULL
THE LAD WITH THE SILVER BUTTON: ACROSS MORVEN
THE DEATH OF THE RED FOX
TALK WITH ALAN IN THE WOOD OF LETTERMORE
THE HOUSE OF FEAR
THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE ROCKS
THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE HEUGH OF CORRYNAKIEGH
THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER: THE MOOR
CLUNY’S CAGE
THE FLIGHT IN THE HEATHER
THE QUARREL IN BALQUHIDDER
END OF THE FLIGHT: WE PASS THE FORTH
I COME TO MR. RANKEILLOR
I GO IN QUEST OF MY INHERITANCE
I COME INTO MY KINGDOM
GOOD-BYE
PREFACE TO THE BIOGRAPHICAL EDITION
While my husband and Mr. Henley were engaged in writing plays in Bournemouth they made a number of titles, hoping to use them in the future. Dramatic composition was not what my husband preferred, but the torrent of Mr. Henley’s enthusiasm swept him off his feet. However, after several plays had been finished, and his health seriously impaired by his endeavours to keep up with Mr. Henley, play writing was abandoned forever, and my husband returned to his legitimate vocation. Having added one of the titles, The Hanging Judge, to the list of projected plays, now thrown aside, and emboldened by my husband’s offer to give me any help needed, I concluded to try and write it myself.
As I wanted a trial scene in the Old Bailey, I chose the period of 1700 for my purpose; but being shamefully ignorant of my subject, and my husband confessing to little more knowledge than I possessed, a London bookseller was commissioned to send us everything he could procure bearing on Old Bailey trials. A great package came in response to our order, and very soon we were both absorbed, not so much in the trials as in following the brilliant career of a Mr. Garrow, who appeared as counsel in many of the cases. We sent for more books, and yet more, still intent on Mr. Garrow, whose subtle cross-examination of witnesses and masterly, if sometimes startling, methods of arriving at the truth seemed more thrilling to us than any novel.
Occasionally other trials than those of the Old Bailey would be included
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