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Catriona-Part18_ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON(1850-1894)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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rising behind them out of the North Sea.

No doubt it was a good deal Andie and his tales that put these fancies



in my head. He was extraordinarily well acquainted with the story of

the rock in all particulars, down to the names of private soldiers, his



father having served there in that same capacity. He was gifted

besides with a natural genius for narration, so that the people seemed



to speak and the things to be done before your face. This gift of his

and my assiduity to listen brought us the more close together. I could



not honestly deny but what I liked him; I soon saw that he liked me;

and indeed, from the first I had set myself out to capture his good-



will. An odd circumstance (to be told presently) effected this beyond

my expectation; but even in early days we made a friendly pair to be a



prisoner and his gaoler.

I should trifle with my conscience if I pretended my stay upon the Bass



was whollydisagreeable. It seemed to me a safe place, as though I was

escaped there out of my troubles. No harm was to be offered me; a



material impossibility, rock and the deep sea, prevented me from fresh

attempts; I felt I had my life safe and my honour safe, and there were



times when I allowed myself to gloat on them like stolen waters. At

other times my thoughts were very different, I recalled how strong I



had expressed myself both to Rankeillor and to Stewart; I reflected

that my captivity upon the Bass, in view of a great part of the coasts



of Fife and Lothian, was a thing I should be thought more likely to

have invented than endured; and in the eyes of these two gentlemen, at



least, I must pass for a boaster and a coward. Now I would take this

lightly enough; tell myself that so long as I stood well with Catriona



Drummond, the opinion of the rest of man was but moonshine and spilled

water; and thence pass off into those meditations of a lover which are



so delightful to himself and must always appear so surprisingly idle to

a reader. But anon the fear would take me otherwise; I would be shaken



with a perfect panic of self-esteem, and these supposed hard judgments

appear an injustice impossible to be supported. With that another



train of thought would he presented, and I had scarce begun to be

concerned about men's judgments of myself, than I was haunted with the



remembrance of James Stewart in his dungeon and the lamentations of his

wife. Then, indeed, passion began to work in me; I could not forgive



myself to sit there idle: it seemed (if I were a man at all) that I

could fly or swim out of my place of safety; and it was in such humours



and to amuse my self-reproaches that I would set the more particularly

to win the good side of Andie Dale.



At last, when we two were alone on the summit of the rock on a bright

morning, I put in some hint about a bribe. He looked at me, cast back



his head, and laughed out loud.

"Ay, you're funny, Mr. Dale," said I, "but perhaps if you'll glance an



eye upon that paper you may change your note."

The stupid Highlanders had taken from me at the time of my seizure



nothing but hard money, and the paper I now showed Andie was an

acknowledgment from the British Linen Company for a considerable sum.



He read it. "Troth, and ye're nane sae ill aff," said he.

"I thought that would maybe vary your opinions," said I.



"Hout!" said he. "It shows me ye can bribe; but I'm no to be bribit."

"We'll see about that yet a while," says I. "And first, I'll show you



that I know what I am talking. You have orders to detain me here till

after Thursday, 21st September."



"Ye're no a'thegether wrong either," says Andie. "I'm to let you gang,

bar orders contrair, on Saturday, the 23rd."



I could not but feel there was something extremely insidious in this

arrangement. That I was to re-appear precisely in time to be too late



would cast the more discredit on my tale, if I were minded to tell one;

and this screwed me to fighting point.



"Now then, Andie, you that kens the world, listen to me, and think

while ye listen," said I. "I know there are great folks in the



business, and I make no doubt you have their names to go upon. I have

seen some of them myself since this affair began, and said my say into



their faces too. But what kind of a crime would this be that I had

committed? or what kind of a process is this that I am fallen under?



To be apprehended by some ragged John-Hielandman on August 30th,

carried to a rickle of old stones that is now neither fort nor gaol



(whatever it once was) but just the gamekeeper's lodge of the Bass

Rock, and set free again, September 23rd, as secretly as I was first



arrested - does that sound like law to you? or does it sound like




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