Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1893-02-17
THE MISADVENTURES
OF JOHN NICHOLSON.
By ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
CHAPTER II-CoNrrNUEp.


be supported alone; and not many
hundred yards away his greatest
friend was sitting at supper; aye, and
even expecting him. Was it not in
the nature of man that he should run
there? He went in quest of sympathy
i'm quest of that droll article that
we all suppose ourselves to want
when in a strait, and have agreed
TO call advice; and he went, besides.
with vague but rather splendid ex-
pectations of relief Alan was rich,
or would be so when he came of age.
BY a stroke of thee pen he might
remedy this misfortune, and avert
that dreaded interview with Mr..
Nicholson, from which John now
shrank in imagination as the hand
draws back from fire.
Close under the Cation Hill there
runs certain narrow avenue, part
street, part by-road. The head Of it
faces the doors of the prison; its tail
descends into the sunless slums of
Low Cation. On one hand it is over
hung by the crags of the hill; on the
other by an old graveyard. Between
these two the roadway runs in a
trench, sparsely lighted at night,
sparsely frequented by day and
bordered, when it was cleared the
place tombs, by dingy and ambiguous
houses. One of these was the house
of Colette, and at his door our i'll
starred John was presently beating
for admittance. In an evil hour he
gratified the inquiries of the contra
band hotel-keeper; in an evil hour he
penetrated into somewhat unsavory
interior. Alan, to be sure, was there,
seated in a room lighted by noisy gas
jets, beside dirty table-cloth, en-
gagged on a coarse meal, and in the
company of several tipsy members of
the junior bar. But Alan was not
sober; he had lost a thousand
pounds on horse-race, had received
the news at dinner-time, and was now,
in default ofany possible means of
extrication, drowning the memory of
his predicament. He to help joint
The thing was impossible; he couldn't
help himself.
"If you have beast of a father"
said he, II can tell you have brute
of a trustee"
"I'm not going to hear my father
called q beast" said John, with q
beating heart, feeling that he risked
the last sound rivet of the chain that
bound him to life.
But Alan was quite good-natured.
Gall right, old fellow" said he.
''Mos' respec'ab man, your father"
And he introduced his friend to his
companions as "old Nicholson, the
what-d'ye-call-um's son."
John sat in dumb agony. Colctte's
foul walls and maculate table linen,
and even down to Colette's villainous
casters, seemed like objects in a
nightmare. And just then there came
a knock and a scurrying; the police,
so lamentably absent from the Cation
Hill, appeared upon the scene, and
the party, taken fagrante delicto,
with their glasses at their elbow,
were seized, marched up to the police
Office, and all duly summoned to APP
pear as witnesses in the subsequent
case against the arch-shebeener,
Colette.
1t was a sorrowful and nightly
sobered company that came forth
again. The vague terror of public
opinion weighed generally on them
all; but there were private and partic-
ular horrors on the minds of individ-
uals. Alan stood in dread of his
trustee, already sorely tried. One of
the group was a son of a country
minister. another of a Judge; John,
the unhappiest of all, had David
Nicholson to father, the idea of facing
whom on such a scandalous subject
was physically sickening. They
stood awhile consulting under the
buttresses OF Saint Giles; thence they
adjourned to the lodgings of one OF
the number in North Castle street,
where, for that matter, they might
have had quite as good supper, and
far better drink, than in the danger
Gus paradise from which they had
been routed. There, over an almost
fearful glass, they debated their posi-
ton. Each explained he had the
world to lose If the affair went on,
and he appeared as witness. 1t was
remarkable what bright prospects
were just then in the act of opening
before each of that little company OF
youths, and what pious consideration
for the feelings of their families be-
gan now to well from them. Each,
moreover, was in an odd state Of des-
titution. Not one could bear his
share Of the fine; not one but evinced
wonderful twinkle of hope that
each OF the others lin succession)
was the very man who could step in
10 make good the deficit. One took a
high hand he could not pay his share;
II 1T went to a trial, he should bolt;
he had always felt the English bar TO
be his true sphere. Another branched
out into touching details about his
family, and was not listened to. John,
IN the midst Of this disorderly compc-
tition of poverty and meanness, sat
stunned, contemplating the mountain
bulk OF his misfortune.