02 I Come to My Journey's End (Kidnapped)

01CHAPTER II.

02I COME TO MY JOURNEY'S END.

03On the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw all the country fall away before me down to the sea, and in the midst of this descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like a kiln.

04There was a flag upon the castle, and ships moving or lying anchored in the firth, both of which, for as far away as they were, I could distinguish clearly, and both brought my country heart into my mouth.

05Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a rough direction for the neighbourhood of Cremond, and so, from one to another, worked my way to the westward of the capital, by Collenton, till I came out upon the Glasgow road.

06And there, to my great pleasure and wonder, I beheld a regiment marching to the fifes, every foot in time, an old red-faced general on a grey horse at the one end, and at the other, the company of grenadiers with their popes' hats.

07The pride of life seemed to mount into my brain at the sight of the red coats, and the hearing of that merry music.

08A little further on, and I was told I was in Cremond parish, and began to substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of Shaw's.

09It was a word that seemed to surprise those of whom I sought my way.

10At first I thought the plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that, all dusty from the road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place to which I was bound.

11But after two, or maybe three, had given me the same look and the same answer, I began to take it in my head that there was something strange about the shahs itself.

12The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries, and, spying an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft of his cart, I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a house that called the House of Shaw's.

13He stopped his cart and looked at me like the others.

14"'Aye,' said he, "'what for?' "'It's a great house,' I asked.

15"'Doubtless,' says he, "'the house is a big muckle-house.' "'Aye,' said I, "'but the folk that are in it?' "'Folk!' cried he.

16"'Are you daft, than they folks there to call folk?' "'What?' say I.

17"'Not Mr.

18Ebenezer?' "'Oh, aye,' says the man.

19"'There's the laird, to be sure, if it's him you're wanting.

20"'What'll like be your business, Manny?' "'I was led to think that I would get a situation,' I said, looking as modest as I could.

21"'What?' cries the carter, in so sharp a note that his very horse started, and then—' "'Well, Manny,' he added, "'it's none of my affairs, but you seem a decent-spoken lad, and if you'll take a word from me you'll keep clear of the shaws.' The next person I came across was a dapper little man in a beautiful white wig, whom I saw to be a barber on his rounds, and knowing well that barbers were great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a man was Mr.

22Balfour of the shaws.

23"'Hoot!

24"'Hoot!

25"'Hoot!

26"'Hoot!' said the barber.

27"'Nah kind of a man!

28"'Nah kind of a man at all!' And began to ask me very shrewdly what my business was.

29But I was more than a match for him at that, and he went on to his next customer no wiser than he came.

30I cannot well describe the blow this dealt to my illusions.

31The more indistinct the accusations were, the less I liked them.

32For they left the wider field to fancy.

33What kind of a great house was this, that all the parish should start and stare to be asked the way to it?

34Or what sort of a gentleman that his ill-fame should be thus current on the wayside?

35If an hour's walking would have brought me back to Essendine, I would have left my adventure then and there.

36And return to Mr.

37Campbell's.

38But when I had come so far away already, mere shame would not suffer me to desist, till I had put the matter to the touch of proof.

39I was bound, out of mere self-respect, to carry it through.

40And little as I liked the sound of what I heard, and slow as I began to travel, I still kept asking my way, and still kept advancing.

41But the house itself seemed to be a kind of ruin.

42No road led up to it.

43No smoke arose from any of the chimneys, nor was there any semblance of a garden.

44My heart sank.

45That!

46That!

47I cried.

48The woman's face lit up with a malignant anger.

49That is the house of Shaw's!

50She cried.

51Blood built it!

52Blood stopped the building of it!

53Blood shall bring it down!

54See here!

55She cried again.

56I spit upon the ground, and crack my thumb at it!

57Black be its fall!

58If you see the laird, tell him what you hear.

59Tell him this makes the twelve-hunter in nineteen time that Jeddick Cluston has called down the curse on him and his house.

60Buyer and stable, man, guest, and master, wife, miss, or bairn.

61Black, black be their fall!

62And the woman, whose voice had ridden to a kind of eldritch sing-song, turned with a skip and was gone.

63I stood where she left me, with my hair on end.

64In those days folks still believed in witches and trembled at a curse.

65And this one, falling so pat, like a wayside omen, to arrest me ere I carried out my purpose, took the pith out of my legs.

66I sat me down and stared at the house of Shaw's.

67The more I looked, the pleasanter that countryside appeared, being all set with hawthorn bushes full of flowers, the fields dotted with sheep, a fine flight of rooks in the sky, and every sign of a kind soil and climate.

68And yet the barrack in the midst of it went sore against my fancy.

69Country folk went by from the fields as I sat there on the side of the ditch, but I lacked the spirit to give them a good ean.

70At last the sun went down, and then, right up against the yellow sky, I saw a scroll of smoke go mounting.

71Not much thicker, as it seemed to me, than the smoke of a candle.

72But still there it was, and meant a fire, and warmth, and cookery, and some living inhabitant that must have lit it.

73And this comforted my heart.

74So I sat forward by a little faint track in the grass that led in my direction.

75It was very faint indeed, to be the only way to a place of habitation.

76Yet I saw no other.

77Presently it brought me to stone uprights, with an unroofed lodge beside them, and coats of arms upon the top.

78A main entrance it was plainly meant to be, but never finished.

79Instead of gates of wrought iron, a pair of hurdles were tied across with a straw rope, and as there were no park walls, nor any sign of avenue, the track that I was following passed on the right hand of the pillars, and went wandering on toward the house.

80The nearer I got to that, the drearier it appeared.

81It seemed like the one wing of a house that had never been finished.

82What should have been the inner end stood open on the upper floors, and showed against the sky with steps and stairs of uncompleted masonry.

83Many of the windows were unglazed, and bats flew in and out like doves out of a dove-coat.

84The night had begun to fall as I got close, and in three of the lower windows, which were very high up and narrow and well barred, the changing light of a little fire began to glimmer.

85Was this the palace I had been coming to?

86Was it within these walls that I was to seek new friends and begin great fortunes?

87Why, in my father's house on Essen Waterside, the fire and the bright lights would show a mile away, and the door open to a beggar's knock!

88I came forward cautiously, and giving ear as I came, heard someone rattling with dishes, and a little dry, eager cough that came in fits.

89But there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked.

90The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece of wood all studded with nails, and I lifted my hand with a faint heart under my jacket, and knocked once.

91Then I stood and waited.

92The house had fallen into a dead silence.

93A whole minute passed away, and nothing stirred but the bats overhead.

94I knocked again, and hearkened again.

95By this time my ears had grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I could hear the ticking of the clock inside as it slowly counted out the seconds.

96But whoever was in that house kept deadly still, and must have held his breath.

97I was in two minds whether to run away, but anger got the upper hand, and I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout aloud for Mr.

98Balfour.

99I was in full career, when I heard the cough right overhead, and jumping back and looking up, beheld a man's head in a tall nightcap, and the bell-mouth of a blunderbuss at one of the first-story windows.

100"'It's loaded,' said a voice.

101"'I have come here with a letter,' I said, "'to Mr.

102Ebenezer Balfour of Shaw's.

103Is he here?' "'From whom is it?' asked the man with the blunderbuss.

104"'That is neither here nor there,' said I, for I was growing very wroth.

105"'Well,' was the reply, "'ye can put it down upon the doorstep, and be off with ye.' "'I will do no such thing,' I cried.

106"'I will deliver it into Mr.

107Balfour's hands, as it was meant I should.

108It is a letter of introduction.' "'A what?' cried the voice, sharply.

109I repeated what I had said.

110"'Who are you, yourself?' was the next question, after a considerable pause.

111"'I'm not ashamed of my name,' said I.

112"'They call me David Balfour.' At that I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle on the window-sill, and it was after quite a long pause, and with a curious change of voice, that the next question followed.

113"'Is your father dead?' I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, but stood staring.

114"'Aye,' the man resumed, "'he'll be dead, no doubt, and that'll be what brings ye chappin' to my door.' Another pause, and then defiantly, "'Well, man,' he said, "'I'll let ye in.' And he disappeared from the window.

115End of chapter