SEARCH
0-9 A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Prev | Current Page 212 | Next

Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Catriona"

Say what ye like, I maun
say what I believe. It was joy was in the creature's heart, the
joy o' hell, I daursay: joy whatever. Mony a time I have askit
mysel' why witches and warlocks should sell their sauls (whilk are
their maist dear possessions) and be auld, duddy, wrunkl't wives or
auld, feckless, doddered men; and then I mind upon Tod Lapraik
dancing a' the hours by his lane in the black glory of his heart.
Nae doubt they burn for it muckle in hell, but they have a grand
time here of it, whatever!--and the Lord forgie us!
Weel, at the hinder end, we saw the wee flag yirk up to the mast-
heid upon the harbour rocks. That was a' Sandie waited for. He up
wi' the gun, took a deleeberate aim, an' pu'd the trigger. There
cam' a bang and then ae waefu' skirl frae the Bass. And there were
we rubbin' our een and lookin' at ither like daft folk. For wi'
the bang and the skirl the thing had clean disappeared. The sun
glintit, the wund blew, and there was the bare yaird whaur the
Wonder had been lowping and flinging but ae second syne.
The hale way hame I roared and grat wi' the terror o' that
dispensation.


Pages:
200 201 202 203 204 205 206 207 208 209 210 211 212 213 214 215 216 217 218 219 220 221 222 223 224