Похищенный
Chapter 17
AtlastwecamesonearthepointoflandattheenteringinofLochLeventhatIbeggedtobesetonshore.Myboatman(whowasanhonestfellowandmindfulofhispromisetothecatechist)wouldfainhavecarriedmeontoBalachulish;butasthiswastotakemefartherfrommysecretdestination,Iinsisted,andwassetonshoreatlastunderthewoodofLettermore(orLettervore,forIhavehearditbothways)inAlan’scountryofAppin.
Thiswasawoodofbirches,growingonasteep,craggysideofamountainthatoverhungtheloch.Ithadmanyopeningsandfernyhowes;andaroadorbridletrackrannorthandsouththroughthemidstofit,bytheedgeofwhich,wherewasaspring,Isatdowntoeatsomeoat-breadofMr.Henderland’sandthinkuponmysituation.
HereIwasnotonlytroubledbyacloudofstingingmidges,butfarmorebythedoubtsofmymind.WhatIoughttodo,whyIwasgoingtojoinmyselfwithanoutlawandawould-bemurdererlikeAlan,whetherIshouldnotbeactingmorelikeamanofsensetotrampbacktothesouthcountrydirect,bymyownguidanceandatmyowncharges,andwhatMr.CampbellorevenMr.Henderlandwouldthinkofmeiftheyshouldeverlearnmyfollyandpresumption:thesewerethedoubtsthatnowbegantocomeinonmestrongerthanever.
AsIwassosittingandthinking,asoundofmenandhorsescametomethroughthewood;andpresentlyafter,ataturningoftheroad,Isawfourtravellerscomeintoview.Thewaywasinthispartsoroughandnarrowthattheycamesingleandledtheirhorsesbythereins.
