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St. Ives: Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England

Chapter 9 THREE IS COMPANY, AND FOUR NONE

Word Count: 4361    |    Released on: 01/12/2017

deed, at the moment I dreamed I was still swinging from the Castle battlements) I found Ronald bending over me with a lantern. It appeared it was past midnight, that I had

my beardless host-and an outfit of new clothes. To be shaved again without depending on the barber of the gaol was a source of a delicious, if a childish joy. My hair was sadly too long, but I was none so unwise as to make an attempt on it myself. And, indeed, I thought it did not wholly m

,' said I, 'hav

d Ronald. 'What do y

campaign,' said I. '

shutters were up, the lamp guiltily turned low; the beautiful Flora greeted me in a whisper; and when I was set dow

and the knowledge that I was so imminently near to the resting-pla

and mounted messengers had followed each other forth at all hours and in all directions; but according to the last intelligence no recapture had been made. Opinion in town was very favourable to us: our courage was applauded, and many professed regret that our ult

te characters, and at once play the cavalier and lively soldier for the eyes of Ronald, and to the ears of Flora maintain the same profound and sentimental note that I had already sounded. Certainly there are days when all goes well with a man; when his wit, his digestion, his mistress are in a conspiracy to spoil him, and even the weather smiles upo

might have vindicated an easy valour, he preferred to make a friend. I wish that we should next drink to a fairer and a more tender foe. She found me in prison; she cheered me with a priceless sympathy; what she has done since, I know she has done in mercy, and I only pray-I dare scarce hope-her mercy may prove to have been merciful. And I wi

ished my compliment before we were aware of a thump upon the ceiling overhead. It was to be thought some very solid body had descended to the floor from the level (possibly) of a bed. I have never seen consternation painted in more lively colours than on the faces of my ho

I, 'let us die, but do n

ragoon, a horse-pistol. She was wound about in shawls which did not wholly conceal the candid fabric of her nightdress, and surmounted by a nightcap of portentous architecture. Thus accoutred, she made her entrance; laid d

again. 'I have the honour,' I began, and found I had the honour to be only exceedingly confused. With that, I threw myself outright upon her mercy. 'Madam, I must be more frank with you,' I resumed. 'You have already proved

ed an uncompromising grunt; and then, turning to

n antiphony of explanations, which di

u might have told yo

already. But I made it my prayer that your slumbers might be respected, and this ne

lity, to which I was able to find no better repart

place,' she said, 'but I cannot see that

e, but (except the Castle of Edinburgh) I cannot think

ive a vestige of a smile to steal upon that ir

question, what do the

the Vicomte Anne d

'I am afraid you do us plain peo

come out against him with horse-pistol and'-smiling-'bedroom candlesticks. It is but a young gentleman in extreme distress, hunted upon every side, and asking no more than to escape from his pursuers. I know your character, I read it in your face'-the heart trembl

ons. 'Behave yourself before folk! Saw ever anyone the match

t fellow double-quick! And if it may be, and if your good h

ried stridently. 'Where

y my unfortunate and (I ma

d. 'Hough! Will somebody give

aste to

ith an extraordinary expression

magnificent

ne than my father, God rest him!' She settled herself in a chair with an alarming air of

ose. I have good friends, if I could get to them, for which all I want is to be

y for Scotland. It's been some fool of an Englishman

thought to count!' I exclaime

all in the name of Abraham Newlands, and five

you carry such a sum about you, and have not so much as counted it

e money is legitima

up. 'Is there any probability, now,

you guessed right. An Englishman brought it me. It reached me, through the hands of his English solic

than take your wor

madam, not l

e-guinea bills, less the exchange, and give you silver and Scots notes to bear you as fa

ion as to whether the amount would suff

d the very thing, and the Lord forgive me for a treasonable old wife! There are a couple stopping up by with the shepherd-man at the farm; to-

'An old soldier of Napoleon is certainly beyond suspicion. But, dear lady, to wh

e drove-roads or the drovers; and I am certainly not going to sit up all night to explain it to you. Suffice it, that it is me who is arranging this affair-the more shame to me!-and that

eft the room and the cottage with a silent expedition that was more lik

what we are to do with h

t him in the hen-house,'

est he is to be, he shall sleep in no mortal hen-house. Your room is the most fit, I think, if he

h her alone; I had ventured boldly; I had been not ill received; I had seen her change colour, had enjoyed the undissembled kindness of her eyes; and now, in a moment, down comes upon the scene that apocalyptic figure with the nightcap and the horse-pistol, and with the very wind of her coming behold me separated from my love! Gratitude and admiration contended in my breast with the extreme of natural rancour. My appearance in her house at past midnight had an air (I could not disguise it from myself) that was insolent and underhand, and could not but minister to the wo

hroud; and, on coming forth, found the dragon had prepared for me a hearty breakfast. She took the head of the table, poured out the tea, and entertained me as I ate with a great deal of good sense and a conspicuous lack of charm. How often did I not regret the change!-how often compare her, and condemn her in the comparison, with her charming niece! But if my entertainer was

u may justify. I told them there was nothing against you beyond the f

myself out for a person easily alarmed; but you must admit there is something

said she. 'But you are a very idle-minded young gentleman; you must stil

kindness has quite conquered me; I lay myself at your disposition, I beg you to believe, with r

r the road; and I will not be easy myself till I see you well off the premises, and the dishes washe

follow her example. All the time I was beating my brains for any means by which I should be able to get a word apart with Flora, or find the time to write her a billet. The windows ha

'wasn't that Sim tha

out. I wrote: 'I love you'; and before I had time to write more, or so much as

served my occupation, 'Umph!' she broke off

am,' said I, bow

he said; '

se of the English language tha

plain to ye, Mosha le Viscount,' she continued. '

ubt it, mad

anks, if it was only for the breakfast I made ye. But what are you to me? A waif young man, not so far to seek for looks and manners, with some English notes in your pocket and a

your least pleasure ought certainly to be my law. You have felt, and you have been ple

he dragon, and immediately l

. Ronald seemed ashamed to so much as catch my eye in the presence of his aunt, and was the picture of embarrassment. As for Flora, she had scarce the time to cast me one look bef

his the old lady set open with a key; and on the other side we were aware of a rough-looking, thick-set man, leaning w

, 'this is the

of sound, and a movement of one arm and h

your five-guinea bill. Here are four pounds of it in British Linen notes, and the balance in small silver, less sixpence. Some c

d which you will find quite necessary on so rough a journey. I hope you will

id Ronald, and gave me as good a cud

seemed to strike him speechless. 'Farewell!' and 'Farewell!' I said. 'I shall never forget my friends. Keep me sometimes in memory. Farewell!' With that I turned my back and began to walk away; and had scarce done so, when I heard the door in the high wall close behind me. Of course this was the aunt's doing; and

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St. Ives: Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England
St. Ives: Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England
“Robert Louis Balfour Stevenson (13 November 1850 – 3 December 1894) was a Scottish novelist, poet, essayist, and travel writer. His most famous works are Treasure Island, Kidnapped, and Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. "St. Ives: Being The Adventures of a French Prisoner in England" (1897) is an unfinished novel by Robert Louis Stevenson. It was completed in 1898 by Arthur Quiller-Couch. The plot concerns the adventures of the dashing Capitaine Jacques St. Ives, a Napoleonic soldier, after his capture by the British. (Excerpt from Wikipedia)”
1 Chapter 1 A TALE OF A LION RAMPANT2 Chapter 2 A TALE OF A PAIR OF SCISSORS3 Chapter 3 MAJOR CHEVENIX COMES INTO THE STORY, AND GOGUELAT GOES OUT4 Chapter 4 ST. IVES GETS A BUNDLE OF BANK NOTES5 Chapter 5 ST. IVES IS SHOWN A HOUSE6 Chapter 6 THE ESCAPE7 Chapter 7 SWANSTON COTTAGE8 Chapter 8 THE HEN-HOUSE9 Chapter 9 THREE IS COMPANY, AND FOUR NONE10 Chapter 10 THE DROVERS11 Chapter 11 THE GREAT NORTH ROAD12 Chapter 12 I FOLLOW A COVERED CART NEARLY TO MY DESTINATION13 Chapter 13 I MEET TWO OF MY COUNTRYMEN14 Chapter 14 THE ADVENTURE OF THE ATTORNEY'S CLERK15 Chapter 15 THE HOME-COMING OF MR. ROWLEY'S VISCOUNT16 Chapter 16 THE DESPATCH-BOX17 Chapter 17 MR. ROMAINE CALLS ME NAMES18 Chapter 18 THE DEVIL AND ALL AT AMERSHAM PLACE19 Chapter 19 AFTER THE STORM20 Chapter 20 I BECOME THE OWNER OF A CLARET-COLOURED CHAISE21 Chapter 21 CHARACTER AND ACQUIREMENTS OF MR. ROWLEY22 Chapter 22 THE ADVENTURE OF THE RUNAWAY COUPLE23 Chapter 23 THE INN-KEEPER OF KIRKBY-LONSDALE24 Chapter 24 I MEET A CHEERFUL EXTRAVAGANT25 Chapter 25 THE COTTAGE AT NIGHT26 Chapter 26 THE SABBATH DAY27 Chapter 27 EVENTS OF MONDAY THE LAWYER'S PARTY28 Chapter 28 EVENTS OF TUESDAY THE TOILS CLOSING29 Chapter 29 EVENTS OF WEDNESDAY; THE UNIVERSITY OF CRAMOND