Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1890-01-17
3Y ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON,
The Celebrated Novelist,

III Z ilhelN 10 BeU ullle POOu ny nltn."
My dear man." said the colonel, "Ballan-
trae is n gentleman of the most eminent nat
ural abilities, and man that l admire and
that l revere, to the very ground he trcads
on" And then he seemed to me to pause,
like ono in difficulty.
But for all that said |, 1--WE are likely
to get little good by him."
Sure, and you can have It your own wav
my dear man." says the colonel.
BY this time we had come to the side of the
creek where tho boat awaited him. "Weli,n
said he, II am sure 1 am very much your
dobtor for all your civility, Mr. Whatever
your-name-is; and just as a last word, and
since you show much intelligent interest,
will mention a small circumstance that NAV
be of use to the family. For l believe my
friend omitted to mention that he has the
largest pension on the Scots Fund of any
refugee in Paris; and it's the more disgrace
full, sir, cries the colonel, warming, because
there's not one dirty penny for myself"
He cooked his hat at me as if had been to
blame for this Partially, the,. changed again
into his usual staggering cfvility, shook me
by the hand and set off down to the beat,
with the money under hisarms, and whistlinc
as he went the pathetic air Of 'Shule Aroon "
1t was the first time | had heard that tune-I
was TO hear it again, words and all, as YOU
shall learn-but | remember how that little
slave Of it ran In my head after the free
traders had babe him Wv heesht, in the dell $
name" and the grating of the oars had taken
It's place, and | stood and watched the dawn
creeping on the sea and the boat drawing
away, and the lugger lying with her foresail
backed awaiting it.
The gap made in our money was a sore en-
barrassment, and among other consequences
II mad this; That / must ride to Edinburgh
and there raise new loan on very question
able terms to keep the old afoat; and was
thus, for close upon three weeks, absent from
the house of Durrisdeer.
What passed in the interval l had none to
tell me, but | found Mrs. Henry, upon my
return, much changed in her deneanor: the
old talks with my lord for the most part
preternltted; certain depreciation visible
toward her husband to whom, | thought,
she addressed herself moro often, and for
one thing she was now greatly wrapped up
III Miss Katharine, her daughter You would
think the change was agreeable to Mr.. Henry |!
No such matterl To the contrary, every cir
cumstance Of alteration was stab to him.
lie read i'll each the avowal of her tr,lant
fancles-that consistency to the master of
which she was proud, while she supposed him
dead, sho had to blush for now she knew he
was alive; and these bushes were the hated
spring of her new conduct | am to conceal
no truth, and l will here say plainly, | think
this was the period in which Mr. Henry
showed the worst. He contained himself in
deed, in public, but there was deep seated
irritation visible underneath With me. from
whom he had less concealment, he was often
grossly unjust; and even for his wife he
would sometimes have a sharp retort-per-
haps when she had rufied him with some
unwonted kindness, perhaps upon no tangi-
bic occasion-the mere habtual Tenor of the
mans annoyance bursting spontaneously
forth. When he would thus forget himself
IA thing so strangely out of keeping with the
terms of their relation), there went a shock
through the whole company, and the pair
would look upon each other in kind of
panied ama2ement.
All the time, too, while he was iniuring
himself by this defect of temper, he was
hurting his position by silence, OF which |
scarce know whether to say it was the child
of generosity or pride. The free traders
came again and again, bringing messengers
from the master, and none departed empty
handed. | never burst reason with Mr..
y ,
kind of noble rage. Perhaps because he knew
he was by nature inclining to the parsimoni-
Gus, he tool, back foremost pleasure in the
recklessness with which he supplied his bro
theirs exigence, Perhaps the falsity of the
position would have spurred an humber man
into the same excuses. But the estate Gf |
may say sol groaned under 1t; our daily ex-
penses We're shorn lower and lower; the sta
lint
servants We're discharged, which raised a
dreadful murmuring in the country and
heated up the old disfavor upon Mr.. Henry;
and at last the yearly visit to Edinburgh
must be discontinued
This was n 1856 You are to suppose that
for seven years this Sloodsucker had been
drawing the Iife's blood from Durrisdeer,
and that all this time my patron had held his
peace 1t was an effect of devilish malice in
the master that he addressed Mr. Henry alone
upon the matter of his demands, and there
was never a word to my lord. The family
had looked on, wondering at our economies
They had lamented, | have no doubt, that
my patron had become SO great miser, a
fault always despicable, but in the young
abhorrent, and Mr.. Henry was not yet sc
years of age, Still, he had managed the bus.
mess of Durrisdeer almost from q boy; and
they bore with these changes in a silence as
proud and bitter as his own, until the coping
stone of the Edinburgh visit.
At this time, believe my patron and his
wife were rarely together save at meals I'm
mediately on the back of Col. Burlxe's an
nouncement Mrs. Henry made palpatle ad
vances, you might say she had laid a sort of
timid court to her husband, different indeed
from her former manner of unconcern and
distance. | never had tho heart to blame
Mr. Henry because he recoiled from these al
vances, nor vet to censure the wife, when she
was cut to the quick by their rejection. But
the result was an entire estrangement, SO
that as say they rarely spoke except al
meals. Even the matter of the Edinburgh
visit was first preached at table, and il
Glanced that Mrs. Henry was that day ailing
and querulous She had no sooner under
stood her husbands meaning than tho red
dew in her face.
SAT LAST she cried. this is too much