Catriona, Robert Louis Stevenson [the gingerbread man read aloud txt] 📗

help you; but I will hear no more upon the facts. And it is my first clear duty to warn you. These are deep waters, Mr. David, and you are a young man. Be cautious and think twice.”

“It is to be supposed I will have thought oftener than that, Mr. Balfour,” said I, “and I will direct your attention again to Rankeillor’s letter, where (I hope and believe) he has registered his approval of that which I design.”

“Well, well,” said he; and then again, “Well, well! I will do what I can for you.” Therewith he took a pen and paper, sat awhile in thought, and began to write with much consideration. “I understand that Rankeillor approves of what you have in mind?” he asked presently.

“After some discussion, sir, he bade me to go forward in God’s name,” said I.

“That is the name to go in,” said Mr. Balfour, and resumed his writing. Presently, he signed, reread what he had written, and addressed me again. “Now here, Mr. David,” said he, “is a letter of introduction, which I will seal without closing, and give into your hands open, as the form requires. But since I am acting in the dark, I will just read it to you, so that you may see if it will secure your end⁠—

Pilrig, August 26th, 1751

My Lord⁠—This is to bring to your notice my namesake and cousin, David Balfour Esquire of Shaws, a young gentleman of unblemished descent and good estate. He has enjoyed besides the more valuable advantages of a godly training, and his political principles are all that your lordship can desire. I am not in Mr. Balfour’s confidence, but I understand him to have a matter to declare, touching His Majesty’s service and the administration of justice: purposes for which your lordship’s zeal is known. I should add that the young gentleman’s intention is known to and approved by some of his friends, who will watch with hopeful anxiety the event of his success or failure.’

“Whereupon,” continued Mr. Balfour, “I have subscribed myself with the usual compliments. You observe I have said ‘some of your friends;’ I hope you can justify my plural?”

“Perfectly, sir; my purpose is known and approved by more than one,” said I. “And your letter, which I take a pleasure to thank you for, is all I could have hoped.”

“It was all I could squeeze out,” said he; “and from what I know of the matter you design to meddle in, I can only pray God that it may prove sufficient.”

IV Lord Advocate Preston Grange

My kinsman kept me to a meal, “for the honour of the roof,” he said; and I believe I made the better speed on my return. I had no thought but to be done with the next stage, and have myself fully committed; to a person circumstanced as I was, the appearance of closing a door on hesitation and temptation was itself extremely tempting; and I was the more disappointed, when I came to Prestongrange’s house, to be informed he was abroad. I believe it was true at the moment, and for some hours after; and then I have no doubt the Advocate came home again, and enjoyed himself in a neighbouring chamber among friends, while perhaps the very fact of my arrival was forgotten. I would have gone away a dozen times, only for this strong drawing to have done with my declaration out of hand and be able to lay me down to sleep with a free conscience. At first I read, for the little cabinet where I was left contained a variety of books. But I fear I read with little profit; and the weather falling cloudy, the dusk coming up earlier than usual, and my cabinet being lighted with but a loophole of a window, I was at last obliged to desist from this diversion (such as it was), and pass the rest of my time of waiting in a very burdensome vacuity. The sound of people talking in a naer chamber, the pleasant note of a harpsichord, and once the voice of a lady singing, bore me a kind of company.

I do not know the hour, but the darkness was long come, when the door of the cabinet opened, and I was aware, by the light behind him, of a tall figure of a man upon the threshold. I rose at once.

“Is anybody there?” he asked. “Who is that?”

“I am bearer of a letter from the laird of Pilrig to the Lord Advocate,” said I.

“Have you been here long?” he asked.

“I would not like to hazard an estimate of how many hours,” said I.

“It is the first I hear of it,” he replied, with a chuckle. “The lads must have forgotten you. But you are in the bit at last, for I am Prestongrange.”

So saying, he passed before me into the next room, whither (upon his sign) I followed him, and where he lit a candle and took his place before a business-table. It was a long room, of a good proportion, wholly lined with books. That small spark of light in a corner struck out the man’s handsome person and strong face. He was flushed, his eye watered and sparkled, and before he sat down I observed him to sway back and forth. No doubt he had been supping liberally; but his mind and tongue were under full control.

“Well, sir, sit ye down,” said he, “and let us see Pilrig’s letter.”

He glanced it through in the beginning carelessly, looking up and bowing when he came to my name; but at the last words I thought I observed his attention to redouble, and I made sure he read them twice. All this while you are to suppose my heart was beating, for I had now crossed my Rubicon and was come fairly on the field of battle.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Balfour,” he said, when he had done. “Let me offer you a glass of