Chapter I. I Set Off Upon My Journey to the House of Shaws

by Robert Louis Stevenson

　　I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morningearly in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I tookthe key for the last time out of the door of my father's house.The sun began to shine upon the summit of the hills as I wentdown the road; and by the time I had come as far as the manse,the blackbirds were whistling in the garden lilacs, and the mistthat hung around the valley in the time of the dawn was beginningto arise and die away.Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was waiting for me bythe garden gate, good man! He asked me if I had breakfasted; andhearing that I lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of hisand clapped it kindly under his arm."Well, Davie, lad," said he, "I will go with you as far as theford, to set you on the way." And we began to walk forward insilence."Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?" said he, after awhile."Why, sir," said I, "if I knew where I was going, or what waslikely to become of me, I would tell you candidly. Essendean isa good place indeed, and I have been very happy there; but then Ihave never been anywhere else. My father and mother, since theyare both dead, I shall be no nearer to in Essendean than in theKingdom of Hungary, and, to speak truth, if I thought I had achance to better myself where I was going I would go with a goodwill.""Ay?" said Mr. Campbell. "Very well, Davie. Then it behoves meto tell your fortune; or so far as I may. When your mother wasgone, and your father (the worthy, Christian man) began to sickenfor his end, he gave me in charge a certain letter, which he saidwas your inheritance. 'So soon,' says he, 'as I am gone, and thehouse is redd up and the gear disposed of' (all which, Davie,hath been done), 'give my boy this letter into his hand, andstart him off to the house of Shaws, not far from Cramond. Thatis the place I came from,' he said, 'and it's where it befitsthat my boy should return. He is a steady lad,' your fathersaid, 'and a canny goer; and I doubt not he will come safe, andbe well lived where he goes.'""The house of Shaws!" I cried. "What had my poor father to dowith the house of Shaws?""Nay," said Mr. Campbell, "who can tell that for a surety? Butthe name of that family, Davie, boy, is the name you bear --Balfours of Shaws: an ancient, honest, reputable house,peradventure in these latter days decayed. Your father, too, wasa man of learning as befitted his position; no man more plausiblyconducted school; nor had he the manner or the speech of a commondominie; but (as ye will yourself remember) I took aye a pleasureto have him to the manse to meet the gentry; and those of my ownhouse, Campbell of Kilrennet, Campbell of Dunswire, Campbell ofMinch, and others, all well-kenned gentlemen, had pleasure in hissociety. Lastly, to put all the elements of this affair beforeyou, here is the testamentary letter itself, superscrived by theown hand of our departed brother."He gave me the letter, which was addressed in these words: "Tothe hands of Ebenezer Balfour, Esquire, of Shaws, in his house ofShaws, these will be delivered by my son, David Balfour." Myheart was beating hard at this great prospect now suddenlyopening before a lad of seventeen years of age, the son of a poorcountry dominie in the Forest of Ettrick."Mr. Campbell," I stammered, "and if you were in my shoes, wouldyou go?""Of a surety," said the minister, "that would I, and withoutpause. A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which isnear in by Edinburgh) in two days of walk. If the worst came tothe worst, and your high relations (as I cannot but suppose themto be somewhat of your blood) should put you to the door, ye canbut walk the two days back again and risp at the manse door. ButI would rather hope that ye shall be well received, as your poorfather forecast for you, and for anything that I ken come to be agreat man in time. And here, Davie, laddie," he resumed, "itlies near upon my conscience to improve this parting, and set youon the right guard against the dangers of the world."Here he cast about for a comfortable seat, lighted on a bigboulder under a birch by the trackside, sate down upon it with avery long, serious upper lip, and the sun now shining in upon usbetween two peaks, put his pocket-handkerchief over his cockedhat to shelter him. There, then, with uplifted forefinger, hefirst put me on my guard against a considerable number ofheresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged upon me to beinstant in my prayers and reading of the Bible. That done, hedrew a picture of the great house that I was bound to, and how Ishould conduct myself with its inhabitants."Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial," said he. "Bear ye thisin mind, that, though gentle born, ye have had a country rearing.Dinnae shame us, Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon great, mucklehouse, with all these domestics, upper and under, show yourselfas nice, as circumspect, as quick at the conception, and as slowof speech as any. As for the laird -- remember he's the laird; Isay no more: honour to whom honour. It's a pleasure to obey alaird; or should be, to the young.""Well, sir," said I, "it may be; and I'll promise you I'll try tomake it so.""Why, very well said," replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. "And nowto come to the material, or (to make a quibble) to theimmaterial. I have here a little packet which contains fourthings." He tugged it, as he spoke, and with some greatdifficulty, from the skirt pocket of his coat. "Of these fourthings, the first is your legal due: the little pickle money foryour father's books and plenishing, which I have bought (as Ihave explained from the first) in the design of re-selling at aprofit to the incoming dominie. The other three are gifties thatMrs. Campbell and myself would be blithe of your acceptance. Thefirst, which is round, will likely please ye best at the firstoff-go; but, O Davie, laddie, it's but a drop of water in thesea; it'll help you but a step, and vanish like the morning. Thesecond, which is flat and square and written upon, will stand byyou through life, like a good staff for the road, and a goodpillow to your head in sickness. And as for the last, which iscubical, that'll see you, it's my prayerful wish, into a betterland."With that he got upon his feet, took off his hat, and prayed alittle while aloud, and in affecting terms, for a young mansetting out into the world; then suddenly took me in his arms andembraced me very hard; then held me at arm's length, looking atme with his face all working with sorrow; and then whipped about,and crying good-bye to me, set off backward by the way that wehad come at a sort of jogging run. It might have been laughableto another; but I was in no mind to laugh. I watched him as longas he was in sight; and he never stopped hurrying, nor oncelooked back. Then it came in upon my mind that this was all hissorrow at my departure; and my conscience smote me hard and fast,because I, for my part, was overjoyed to get away out of thatquiet country-side, and go to a great, busy house, among rich andrespected gentlefolk of my own name and blood."Davie, Davie," I thought, "was ever seen such black ingratitude?Can you forget old favours and old friends at the mere whistle ofa name? Fie, fie; think shame."And I sat down on the boulder the good man had just left, andopened the parcel to see the nature of my gifts. That which hehad called cubical, I had never had much doubt of; sure enough itwas a little Bible, to carry in a plaid-neuk. That which he hadcalled round, I found to be a shilling piece; and the third,which was to help me so wonderfully both in health and sicknessall the days of my life, was a little piece of coarse yellowpaper, written upon thus in red ink:"TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.--Take the flowers of lilly ofthe valley and distil them in sack, and drink a spooneful or twoas there is occasion. It restores speech to those that have thedumb palsey. It is good against the Gout; it comforts the heartand strengthens the memory; and the flowers, put into a Glasse,close stopt, and set into ane hill of ants for a month, then takeit out, and you will find a liquor which comes from the flowers,which keep in a vial; it is good, ill or well, and whether man orwoman."And then, in the minister's own hand, was added:"Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a greatspooneful in the hour."To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather tremulouslaughter; and I was glad to get my bundle on my staff's end andset out over the ford and up the hill upon the farther side;till, just as I came on the green drove-road running wide throughthe heather, I took my last look of Kirk Essendean, the treesabout the manse, and the big rowans in the kirkyard where myfather and my mother lay.