Catriona

Page 115

CHAPTER XXVII--A TWOSOME

I believe it was about the fifth day, and I know at least that

James was in one of his fits of gloom, when I received three

letters. The first was from Alan, offering to visit me in Leyden;

the other two were out of Scotland and prompted by the same affair,

which was the death of my uncle and my own complete accession to my

rights. Rankeillor's was, of course, wholly in the business view;

Miss Grant's was like herself, a little more witty than wise, full

of blame to me for not having written (though how was I to write

with such intelligence?) and of rallying talk about Catriona, which

it cut me to the quick to read in her very presence.

For it was of course in my own rooms that I found them, when I came

to dinner, so that I was surprised out of my news in the very first

moment of reading it. This made a welcome diversion for all three

of us, nor could any have foreseen the ill consequences that

ensued. It was accident that brought the three letters the same

day, and that gave them into my hand in the same room with James

More; and of all the events that flowed from that accident, and

which I might have prevented if I had held my tongue, the truth is

that they were preordained before Agricola came into Scotland or

Abraham set out upon his travels.

The first that I opened was naturally Alan's; and what more natural

than that I should comment on his design to visit me? but I

observed James to sit up with an air of immediate attention.

"Is that not Alan Breck that was suspected of the Appin accident?"

he inquired.

I told him, "Ay," it was the same; and he withheld me some time

from my other letters, asking of our acquaintance, of Alan's manner

of life in France, of which I knew very little, and further of his

visit as now proposed.

"All we forfeited folk hang a little together," he explained, "and

besides I know the gentleman: and though his descent is not the

thing, and indeed he has no true right to use the name of Stewart,

he was very much admired in the day of Drummossie. He did there

like a soldier; if some that need not be named had done as well,

the upshot need not have been so melancholy to remember. There

were two that did their best that day, and it makes a bond between

the pair of us," says he.

I could scarce refrain from shooting out my tongue at him, and

could almost have wished that Alan had been there to have inquired

a little further into that mention of his birth. Though, they tell

me, the same was indeed not wholly regular.

Meanwhile, I had opened Miss Grant's, and could not withhold an

exclamation.

"Catriona," I cried, forgetting, the first time since her father

was arrived, to address her by a handle, "I am come into my kingdom

fairly, I am the laird of Shaws indeed--my uncle is dead at last."

She clapped her hands together leaping from her seat. The next

moment it must have come over both of us at once what little cause

of joy was left to either, and we stood opposite, staring on each

other sadly.

But James showed himself a ready hypocrite. "My daughter," says

he, "is this how my cousin learned you to behave? Mr. David has

lost a new friend, and we should first condole with him on his

bereavement."

"Troth, sir," said I, turning to him in a kind of anger, "I can

make no such great faces. His death is as blithe news as ever I

got."

"It's a good soldier's philosophy," says James. "'Tis the way of

flesh, we must all go, all go. And if the gentleman was so far

from your favour, why, very well! But we may at least congratulate

you on your accession to your estates."

"Nor can I say that either," I replied, with the same heat. "It is

a good estate; what matters that to a lone man that has enough

already? I had a good revenue before in my frugality; and but for

the man's death--which gratifies me, shame to me that must confess

it!--I see not how anyone is to be bettered by this change."

"Come, come," said he, "you are more affected than you let on, or

you would never make yourself out so lonely.

Robert Louis Stevenson
Classic Literature Library

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