The Master of Ballantrae Chapter 7

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Chapter 7 of The Master of Ballantrae by Robert Louis Stevenson. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Thomas Copeland. Chapter 7 Adventure of Chevalier Burke in India, extracted from his memoirs.

Here was I, therefore, on the streets of that city, the name of which I cannot call to mind, while even then I was so ill acquainted with its situation that I knew not whether to go south or north. The alert, being sudden, I had run forth without shoes or stockings. My hat had been struck from my head in the melee. My kit was in the hands of the English. I had no companion but the sipe, no weapon but my sword, and the devil a coin in my pocket. In short, I was for all the world like one of those calendars with whom Mr. Galland is made as acquainted in his elegant tales. These gentlemen, you will remember, were forever falling in with extraordinary incidents, and I was myself upon the brink of one so astonishing that I protest I cannot explain it to this day.

The sipe was a very honest man. He had served many years with the French colors, and would have let himself be cut to pieces for any of the brave countrymen of Mr. Lally. It is the same fellow—his name has quite escaped me— of whom I have narrated already a surprising instance of generosity of mind, when he found Mr. de Fessac and myself upon the ramparts entirely overcome with liquor, and covered us with straw while the commandant was passing by. I consulted him, therefore, with perfect freedom. It was a fine question what to do. But we decided at last to escalate a garden wall where we could certainly sleep in the shadow of the trees, and might perhaps find an occasion to get hold of a pair of slippers and a turban. In that part of the city, we had only the difficulty of the choice, for it was a quarter consisting entirely of walled gardens, and the lanes which divided them were at that hour of the night deserted. I gave the sipe a back, and we had soon dropped into a large enclosure full of trees. The place was soaking with the dew, which in that country is exceedingly unwholesome, above all to whites. Yet my fatigue was so extreme that I was already half asleep when the sipe recalled me to my senses. In the far end of the enclosure a bright light had suddenly shown out and continued to burn steadily among the leaves. It was a circumstance highly unusual in such a place and hour, and in our situation it behooved us to proceed with some timidity. The sipe was sent to reconnoitre, and pretty soon returned with the intelligence that we had fallen extremely amiss, for the house belonged to a white man who was in all likelihood English. Faith, says I, if there is a white man to be seen, I will have a look at him, for the Lord be praised there are more sorts than the one.

The sipe led me forward accordingly to a place from which I had a clear view upon the house. It was surrounded with a wide veranda, a lamp very well trimmed stood upon the floor of it, and on either side of the lamp there sat a man, cross-legged after the Oriental Manor. Both besides were bundled up in muslin like two natives, and yet one of them was not only a white man, but a man very well known to me and the reader, being indeed that very Master of Ballantrae of whose gallantry and genius I have had to speak so often. Word had reached me that he had come to the Indies, though we had never met at least, and I heard little of his occupations. But sure, I had no sooner recognized him and found myself in the arms of so older comrade than I supposed my tribulations were quite done. I stepped plainly forth into the light of the moon, which shone exceedingly strong, and hailing Ballantrae by name made him, in a few words, Master of my grievous situation. He turned, started the least thing in the world, looked me fair in the face while I was speaking, and, when I had done, addressed himself to his companion, in the barbarous native dialect, the second person who was of an extraordinary delicate appearance, with legs like walking canes, and fingers like the stock of a tobacco pipe. Note by Mr. McKellar. Plainly secundre d'asse. EMCK. Return to text. Now rose to his feet. The Sahib, says he, understands no English language. I understand it myself, and I see you make some small mistake. Oh, which may happen very often, but the Sahib would be glad to know how you come in a garden.