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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Catriona"

It was not till all was over, and our healths drunk, that
he told us James was in that city, whither he had preceded us some
days, and where he now lay sick, and like to die. I thought I saw
by my wife's face what way her inclination pointed.
"And let us go see him, then," said I.
"If it is your pleasure," said Catriona. These were early days.
He was lodged in the same quarter of the city with his chief, in a
great house upon a corner; and we were guided up to the garret
where he lay by the sound of Highland piping. It seemed he had
just borrowed a set of them from Bohaldie to amuse his sickness;
though he was no such hand as was his brother Rob, he made good
music of the kind; and it was strange to observe the French folk
crowding on the stairs, and some of them laughing. He lay propped
in a pallet. The first look of him I saw he was upon his last
business; and, doubtless, this was a strange place for him to die
in. But even now I find I can scarce dwell upon his end with
patience. Doubtless, Bohaldie had prepared him; he seemed to know
we were married, complimented us on the event, and gave us a
benediction like a patriarch.


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