Robert Louis Stevenson

Kidnapped Robert Louis Stevenson

n the forenoon of the second day, coming to the top of a hill, I saw all the country fall awaybefore me down to the sea; and in the midst of this descent, on a long ridge, the city of Edinburghsmoking like a kiln. There was a flag upon the castle, and ships moving or lying anchored in thefirth; both of which, for as far away as they were, I could distinguish clearly; and both brought mycountry heart into my mouth. Presently after, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a rough direction for theneighbourhood of Cramond; and so, from one to another, worked my way to the westward of thecapital by Colinton, till I came out upon the Glasgow road. And there, to my great pleasure andwonder, I beheld a regiment marching to the fifes, every foot in time; an old red-faced general on agrey horse at the one end, and at the other the company of Grenadiers, with their Pope's-hats. Thepride of life seemed to mount into my brain at the sight of the red coats and the hearing of thatmerry music. A little farther on, and I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began to substitute in my inquiriesthe name of the house of Shaws. It was a word that seemed to surprise those of whom I sought myway. At first I thought the plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, and that all dusty fromthe road, consorted ill with the greatness of the place to which I was bound. But after two, or maybethree, had given me the same look and the same answer, I began to take it in my head there wassomething strange about the Shaws itself. The better to set this fear at rest, I changed the form of my inquiries; and spying an honest fellowcoming along a lane on the shaft of his cart, I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a house theycalled the house of Shaws. He stopped his cart and looked at me, like the others."Ay" said he. "What for?""It's a great house?" I asked."Doubtless," says he. "The house is a big, muckle house.""Ay," said I, "but the folk that are in it?""Folk?" cried he. "Are ye daft? There's nae folk there-to call folk.""What?" say I; "not Mr. Ebenezer?""Ou, ay" says the man; "there's the laird, to be sure, if it's him you're wanting. What'll like be yourbusiness, mannie?"