hn V. Nicholson, Randolph Crescent,
Edinburgh.--Kirkman has disappeared; police looking for him. All
understood. Keep mind quite easy.--AUSTIN." Having had this explained to
him, the old gentleman took down the cellar key and departed for two
bottles of the 1820 port. Uncle Greig dined there that day, and cousin
Robina, and, by an odd chance, Mr. MacEwen; and the presence of these
strangers relieved what might have been otherwise a somewhat strained
relation. Ere they departed the family was welded once more into a fair
semblance of unity.

In the end of April John led Flora--or, let us say, as more descriptive,
Flora led John--to the altar, if altar that may be called which was
indeed the drawing-room mantelpiece in Mr. Nicholson's house, the
Reverend Dr. Durie posted on the hearthrug in the guise of Hymen's
priest.

The last I saw of them, on a recent visit to the north, was at a
dinner-party in the house of my old friend Gellatly Macbride; and after
we had, in classic phrase, "rejoined the ladies," I had an opportunity
to overhear Flora conversing with another married woman on the much
canvassed matter of a husband's tobacco.

"O yes!" said she; "I only allow Mr. Nicholson four cigars a day. Three
he smokes at fixed times--after a meal, you know, my dear; and the
fourth he can take when he likes with any friend."

"Bravo!" thought I to myself; "this is the wife for my friend John!"

KIDNAPPED

BEING MEMOIRS OF THE ADVENTURES OF DAVID BALFOUR

IN THE YEAR 1751 HOW HE WAS KIDNAPPED AND CAST AWAY: HIS SUFFERINGS IN
A DESERT ISLE: HIS JOURNEY IN THE WILD HIGHLANDS: HIS ACQUAINTANCE
WITH ALAN BRECK STEWART AND OTHER NOTORIOUS HIGHLAND JACOBITES: WITH
ALL THAT HE SUFFERED AT THE HANDS OF HIS UNCLE EBENEZER BALFOUR OF
SHAWS, FALSELY SO-CALLED: WRITTEN BY HIMSELF, AND NOW SET FORTH BY
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

_DEDICATION_

_My dear Charles Baxter,_

_If you ever read this tale, you will likely ask yourself more questions
than I should care to answer: as, for instance, how the Appin murder has
come to fall in the year 1751, how the Torran rocks have crept so near
to Earraid, or why the printed trial is silent as to all that touches
David Balfour. These are nuts beyond my ability to crack. But if you
tried me on the point of Alan's guilt or innocence, I think I could
defend the reading of the text. To this day you will find the tradition
of Appin clear in Alan's favour. If you inquire, y