Catriona by Robert Louis Stevenson (read with me .TXT) ๐
Description
Robert Lewis Stevenson continues the story of David Balfour, starting directly where Kidnapped left off. Compared to Kidnapped, Catriona is much more of a comedy of manners, politics, and romance than a simple action-adventure story, but it still has several of Stevensonโs trademark escapades, imprisonments, and daring escapes.
The title character David Balfour attempts to navigate, to his own peril, his apparent role in the Appin murder, the subsequent trial of James of the Glens, life among high society, and the machinations of James Macgregor Drummond, the father of Davidโs great love, Catriona.
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- Author: Robert Louis Stevenson
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She turned, and began to go home and I to accompany her. At which she stopped.
โI will be going alone,โ she said. โIt is alone I must be seeing him.โ
Some little while I raged about the streets, and told myself I was the worst used lad in Christendom. Anger choked me; it was all very well for me to breathe deep; it seemed there was not air enough about Leyden to supply me, and I thought I would have burst like a man at the bottom of the sea. I stopped and laughed at myself at a street corner a minute together, laughing out loud, so that a passenger looked at me, which brought me to myself.
โWell,โ I thought, โI have been a gull and a ninny and a soft Tommy long enough. Time it was done. Here is a good lesson to have nothing to do with that accursed sex, that was the ruin of the man in the beginning and will be so to the end. God knows I was happy enough before ever I saw her; God knows I can be happy enough again when I have seen the last of her.โ
That seemed to me the chief affair: to see them go. I dwelled upon the idea fiercely; and presently slipped on, in a kind of malevolence, to consider how very poorly they were like to fare when Davie Balfour was no longer by to be their milk-cow; at which, to my own very great surprise, the disposition of my mind turned bottom up. I was still angry; I still hated her; and yet I thought I owed it to myself that she should suffer nothing.
This carried me home again at once, where I found the mails drawn out and ready fastened by the door, and the father and daughter with every mark upon them of a recent disagreement. Catriona was like a wooden doll; James More breathed hard, his face was dotted with white spots, and his nose upon one side. As soon as I came in, the girl looked at him with a steady, clear, dark look that might very well have been followed by a blow. It was a hint that was more contemptuous than a command, and I was surprised to see James More accept it. It was plain he had had a master talking-to; and I could see there must be more of the devil in the girl than I had guessed, and more good-humor about the man than I had given him the credit of.
He began, at least, calling me Mr. Balfour, and plainly speaking from a lesson; but he got not very far, for at the first pompous swell of his voice, Catriona cut in.
โI will tell you what James More is meaning,โ said she. โHe means we have come to you, beggar-folk, and have not behaved to you very well, and we are ashamed of our ingratitude and ill-behaviour. Now we are wanting to go away and be forgotten; and my father will have guided his gear so ill, that we cannot even do that unless you will give us some more alms. For that is what we are, at all events, beggar-folk and sorners.โ
โBy your leave, Miss Drummond,โ said I, โI must speak to your father by myself.โ
She went into her own room and shut the door, without a word or a look.
โYou must excuse her, Mr. Balfour,โ says James More. โShe has no delicacy.โ
โI am not here to discuss that with you,โ said I, โbut to be quit of you. And to that end I must talk of your position. Now, Mr. Drummond, I have kept the run of your affairs more closely than you bargained for. I know you had money of your own when you were borrowing mine. I know you have had more since you were here in Leyden, though you concealed it even from your daughter.โ
โI bid you beware. I will stand no more baiting,โ he broke out. โI am sick of her and you. What kind of a damned trade is this to be a parent! I have had expressions used to meโ โโ There he broke off. โSir, this is the heart of a soldier and a parent,โ he went on again, laying his hand on his bosom, โoutraged in both charactersโ โand I bid you beware.โ
โIf you would have let me finish,โ says I, โyou would have found I spoke for your advantage.โ
โMy dear friend,โ he cried, โI know I might have relied upon the generosity of your character.โ
โMan! will you let me speak?โ said I. โThe fact is that I cannot win to find out if you are rich or poor. But it is my idea that your means, as they are mysterious in their source, so they are something insufficient in amount; and I do not choose your daughter to be lacking. If I durst speak to herself, you may be certain I would never dream of trusting it to you; because I know you like the back of my hand, and all your blustering talk is that much wind to me. However, I believe in your way you do still care something for your daughter after all; and I must just be doing with that ground of confidence, such as it is.โ
Whereupon, I arranged with him that he was to communicate with me, as to his whereabouts and Catrionaโs welfare, in consideration of which I was to serve him a small stipend.
He heard the business out with a great deal of eagerness; and when it was done, โMy dear fellow, my dear son,โ he cried out, โthis is more like yourself than any of it yet! I will serve you with a soldierโs faithfulnessโ โโ
โLet me hear no more of it!โ says I. โYou have got me to that pitch that the bare name of soldier rises on my
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