San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1890-01-07
The Master Of BaIlantPae.
By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON, Au-
thor Of DR. Jekyll and Mr., Hyde"
CHAPTER l.

lehBtn one uay he looked up from MS paper
with kind of tlmidneSS, and says he, Mr.
Mackellar, think ought to tell you that
you do very we'll" That was my first word
of commentator, and from that day his jeal
ousy of my performance was relaxed; sooD
it was Mr.. Mackellar" here and Mr.
Mackellar' there with the whole family; and
for much of my service at Durrisdeer have
transacted everything at my own time and
to my own fancy, and never farthing chal
lenged.
Even while he was driving me, had be
gun to find my heart go out to Mr.. Henry.
40 doubt partly in pity, he was man so pal
Pably unhappy. He would fall into deep
muse over our accounts, staring at the page
or out of the window; and at those times the
look of his face, and the sigh that would
break from him awoke in me strong feelings
of curiosity and commiseration. One day,
remember, we were late upon some bust
ness in the stewards room. This room is in
the top of the house and has a view upon the
bay, and over a little wooded cape, on the
long sands; and there, right over against the
sun which was then dipping, we saw the free
traders with great force of men and horses
securing on the beach. Mr.. Henry had been
staring straight west, so that | marveled he
was not blinded by the sun; suddenly he
frowns, rubs his hand upon his brow, and
turns to me with a smile.
"You would not guess what | was think
ing" says he. IL was thinking | would be a
happier man if | could ride and run the
danger of my life with these lawlesS compan
ions"
| told him had observed be did not enjoy
good spirits; and that it was common fancy
to envy others and think we should be tue
better of some change; quoting Horace to the
point, like young man fresh from college.
"Why, just So" said he. And with that
we may get back to our accounts"
1t was not long before | began to get wind
of the causes that so much depressed him
Indeed blind man must have soon discovered
that there was a shadow on that house, the
shadow of the Master of Ballantrae. Dead
or alive land he was then supposed to be dead
that man was his brothers rival; his rival
abroad, where there was never good word
for Mr.. Henry and nothing but regret and
praise for the master; and his rival at home
not only with his father and his wife, but
with the very servants.
They We're two old serving men that were
the leaders John Paul, a little, bald, solemn
Stomachy man, great professor Of piety and
take him for all in alb pretty faithful SER
want, was the chief of the masters faction.
None burst so so far as John. He took
pleasure III disregarding Mr.. Henry publicly,
often with sighting comparison My lord
and Mrs. Henry took him up, to be sure, but
never 50 resolutely as they should, and he
had only to pull his weeping face and begin
his lamentations for the maSter-"hiS laddie,'
as he called him-to have the whole con
dOncd. As for Henry, he let these things
pass in silence, sometimes with sad and
sometimes with black look. There was no
rivaling the dead, he knew that; and how to
Censure an old serving man for fault of
loyalty was more than he could see. His was
not the tongue to do it.
MaCcOnOche was chief upon the other side,
an old, i'll spoken, swearing, ranting, drunken
dog; and | have often thought it an odd cir
cumstance in human nature that these two
serving men should each have been the
champion of his contrary, and blackened
their own faults aud made light of their own
virtues when they beheld them in a master.
lSRcconochie had soon smelled out my secret
took me much into his confidence,
and would rant against the master by the
hour
My old lord was uniformly kind to Mr.
Henry; he had even pretty ways Of graft.
tude, and would sometimes clap him Oh the
shoulder and say, as if to the world at large:
This is very good son to me-" and CRATE,
full he was no doubt, being a man of sense and
justice. But think that was all, and | am
sure Mr.. Henry thought So The love was
all for the dead son. Not that this was often
given breath to; indeed with me but once
My lord had asked me one day how got on
with Mr.. Henry, and | had tod Tim the
truth
"Ay," said he, looking sideways on the
burning fire, Henry is a good lad, a very good
ad," said he You have heard, Mr.. Mackel.
ar, that | had another soni am afraid he
was not so virtuous lad as Mr. Henry; but
lear me, he's dead, MIR. IackellarI and while
le lived we were all very proud OF him, all
rery proud. If he was not all he should have |
been In some ways, well, perhaps we loved |
lim better" This last he said looking mus |
ngly in the fire; and then to me, with a great |
leal of briskness, But am rejoiced you do |
o well with Mr.. Henry. You will find him |
good master" And with that he opened |
lis book, which was the customary signal of |
iismiSsion. But it would be little that he |
cad and less that he understood; Culloden
ield and the master, these would be the burden
# his thought; and the burden of mine was
n unnatural jealousy of the dead man for
dr. Henry's sake, that had even then begun
o grow on me.
am keeping Mrs Henry for the last, so
hat this expression of my sentiment NAV
eem unwarrantably strong: the reader shall
Judge for himself when | am done. But
lust first tell Of another matter, which
'as the means of bringing me more init
tate. | had not yet been six months at
lurrisdeer when it CHANGED that John Paul