Похищенный

УДК 
372.8
ББК 
81.2 Англ-93
 
С80

ISBN 978-5-9925-1112-3

Стивенсон, Роберт Льюис.
С80 
Похищенный : книга для чтения на английском языке. — Санкт-Петербург : КАРО, 2016. — 
224 с. — (Classical Literature).

ISBN 978-5-9925-1112-3.

Предлагаем вниманию читателей роман знаменитого английского писателя-романтика Р. Л. Стивенсона «Похищенный».
Текст печатается в сокращении, снабжен комментариями и словарем. Книга предназначена для студентов языковых вузов и всех 
любителей английской литературы.

УДК 372.8
ББК 81.2 Англ-93

© КАРО, 2016

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Роберт Льюис Стивенсон

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ПОХИЩЕННЫЙ

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Chapter I
I Set off Upon My Journey 
to the House of Shaws

I will begin the story of my adventures with a 
certain morning early in the month of June, the year 
of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time 
out of the door of my father’s house. Th e sun began 
to shine upon the summit of the hills as I went down 
the road; and by the time I had come as far as the 
manse, the blackbirds were whistling in the garden 
lilacs, and the mist that hung around the valley in 
the time of the dawn was beginning to arise and die 
away.
Mr. Campbell, the minister of Essendean, was 
waiting for me by the garden gate, good man! He 
asked me if I had breakfasted; and hearing that I 
lacked for nothing, he took my hand in both of his 
and clapped it kindly under his arm.
‘Well, Davie, lad,’ said he, ‘I will go with you as far 
as the ford, to set you on the way.’ And we began to 
walk forward in silence.

CHAPTER I

4

‘Are ye sorry to leave Essendean?’ said he, aft er 
awhile.
‘Why, sir,’ said I, ‘if I knew where I was going, 
or what was likely to become of me, I would tell 
you candidly. Essendean is a good place indeed, 
and I have been very happy there; but then I have 
never been anywhere else. My father and mother, 
since they are both dead, I shall be no nearer to in 
Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary, and, 
to speak truth, if I thought I had a chance to better 
myself where I was going I would go with a good 
will.’
‘Ay?’ said Mr. Campbell. ‘Very well, Davie. Th en 
it behoves me to tell your fortune; or so far as I may. 
When your mother was gone, and your father (the 
worthy, Christian man) began to sicken for his end, 
he gave me in charge a certain letter, which he said 
was your inheritance. “So soon,” says he, “as I am 
gone, and the house is redd up and the gear disposed of” (all which, Davie, hath been done), “give 
my boy this letter into his hand, and start him off  
to the house of Shaws, not far from Cramond. Th at 
is the place I came from,” he said, “and it’s where it 
befi ts that my boy should return. He is a steady lad,” 
your father said, “and a canny goer; and I doubt not 
he will come safe, and be well lived where he goes.’’’
‘Th e house of Shaws!’ I cried. ‘What had my poor 
father to do with the house of Shaws?’

I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS 

5

‘Nay,’ said Mr. Campbell, ‘who can tell that for a 
surety?
But the name of that family, Davie, boy, is the 
name you bear — Balfours of Shaws: an ancient, 
honest, reputable house, peradventure in these latter 
days decayed. Your father, too, was a man of learning 
as befi tted his position; no man more plausibly 
conducted school; nor had he the manner or the 
speech of a common dominie; all well-kenned1 
gentlemen, had pleasure in his society. Lastly, to put 
all the elements of this aff air before you, here is the 
testamentary letter itself, superscrived by the own 
hand of our departed brother.’
He gave me the letter, which was addressed in 
these words: ‘To the hands of Ebenezer Balfour, 
Esquire, of Shaws, in his house of Shaws, these will 
be delivered by my son, David Balfour.’ My heart was 
beating hard at this great prospect now suddenly 
opening before a lad of seventeen years of age, the son 
of a poor country dominie in the Forest of Ettrick.
‘Mr. Campbell,’ I stammered, ‘and if you were in 
my shoes, would you go?’
‘Of a surety,’ said the minister, ‘that would I, and 
without pause. If the worst came to the worst, and 
your high relations (as I cannot but suppose them 
to be somewhat of your blood) should put you to 

1 well-kenned = well-known — (шотл.) известный 

CHAPTER I

6

the door, ye can but walk the two days back again 
and risp at the manse door. But I would rather hope 
that ye shall be well received, as your poor father 
forecast for you, and for anything that I ken come 
to be a great man in time. And here, Davie, laddie1,’ 
he resumed, ‘it lies near upon my conscience to 
improve this parting, and set you on the right guard 
against the dangers of the world.’
Th ere, then, with uplift ed forefi nger, he fi rst put 
me on my guard against a considerable number of 
heresies, to which I had no temptation, and urged 
upon me to be instant in my prayers and reading of 
the Bible. Th at done, he drew a picture of the great 
house that I was bound to, and how I should conduct 
myself with its inhabitants.
‘Be soople, Davie, in things immaterial,’ said 
he. ‘Bear ye this in mind, that, though gentle born, 
ye have had a country rearing. Dinnae2 shame us, 
Davie, dinnae shame us! In yon3 great, muckle house, 
with all these domestics, upper and under, show 
yourself as nice, as circumspect, as quick at the 
conception, and as slow of speech as any. As for 
the laird4 — remember he’s the laird; I say no more: 

1 laddie = laddy — (шотл.) мальчуган, паренек 
2 Dinnae = do not — (шотл.) не
3 yon = yonder — (шотл.) тот, там, туда
4 laird — лэрд, землевладелец, лорд, представитель 
нетитулованного дворянства в Шотландии

I SET OFF UPON MY JOURNEY TO THE HOUSE OF SHAWS 

7

honour to whom honour. It’s a pleasure to obey a 
laird; or should be, to the young.’
‘Well, sir,’ said I, ‘it may be; and I’ll promise you 
I’ll try to make it so.’
‘Why, very well said,’ replied Mr. Campbell, heartily. ‘And now to come to the material, or (to make a 
quibble) to the immaterial. I have here a little packet 
which contains four things.’ He tugged it, as he spoke, 
and with some great diffi  culty, from the skirt pocket 
of his coat. ‘Of these four things, the fi rst is your 
legal due: the little pickle money for your father’s 
books and plenishing. Th e other three are gift ies 
that Mrs. Campbell and myself would be blithe of 
your acceptance. Th e fi rst, which is round, will likely 
please ye best at the fi rst off -go; but, O Davie, laddie, 
it’s but a drop of water in the sea; it’ll help you but 
a step, and vanish like the morning. Th e second, 
which is fl at and square and written upon, will stand 
by you through life, like a good staff  for the road, 
and a good pillow to your head in sickness. And as 
for the last, which is cubical, that’ll see you, it’s my 
prayerful wish, into a better land.’
With that he got upon his feet, took off  his hat, 
and prayed a little while aloud; then suddenly took 
me in his arms and embraced me very hard; then 
held me at arm’s length, looking at me with his face 
all working with sorrow; and then whipped about, 
and crying good-bye to me, set off  backward by the 

CHAPTER I

8

way that we had come at a sort of jogging run. Th en 
it came in upon my mind that this was all his sorrow 
at my departure; and my conscience smote me hard 
and fast, because I, for my part, was overjoyed to get 
away out of that quiet country-side, and go to a great, 
busy house, among rich and respected gentlefolk of 
my own name and blood.
‘Davie, Davie,’ I thought, ‘was ever seen such black 
ingratitude? Can you forget old favours and old friends 
at the mere whistle of a name? Fie, fi e; think shame.’
And I sat down and opened the parcel to see the 
nature of my gift s. Th at which he had called cubical, 
I had never had much doubt of; sure enough it was a 
little Bible. Th at which he had called round, I found 
to be a shilling piece; and the third, which was to 
help me so wonderfully both in health and sickness 
all the days of my life, was a little piece of coarse 
yellow paper, written upon thus in red ink:
‘TO MAKE LILLY OF THE VALLEY WATER.—
Take the fl owers of lilly of the valley and distil them 
in sack, and drink a spooneful or two as there is 
occasion. It restores speech to those that have the 
dumb palsey. It is good against the gout; it comforts 
the heart and strengthens the memory; it is good, ill 
or well, and whether man or woman.’
And then, in the minister’s own hand, was added: 
‘Likewise for sprains, rub it in; and for the cholic, a 
great spooneful in the hour.’

I COME TO MY JOURNEY’S END

9

To be sure, I laughed over this; but it was rather 
tremulous laughter; and I was glad to get my bundle 
on my staff ’s end and set out over the ford and up 
the hill upon the farther side; till, just as I came on 
the green drove-road running wide through the 
heather, I took my last look of Kirk Essendean, the 
trees about the manse, and the big rowans in the 
kirkyard where my father and my mother lay.

Chapter II
I Come to My Journey’s End

On the forenoon of the second day, coming to 
the top of a hill, I saw all the country fall away before 
me down to the sea; and in the midst of this descent, 
on a long ridge, the city of Edinburgh smoking like 
a kiln. Th ere was a fl ag upon the castle, and ships 
moving or lying anchored in the fi rth; both of which, 
for as far away as they were, I could distinguish 
clearly; and both brought my country heart into my 
mouth.
Presently aft er, I came by a house where a shepherd lived, and got a rough direction for the 
neighbourhood of Cramond1. A little farther on 
I was told I was in Cramond parish, and began to 

1 Cramond — Кремонд, деревня и округ к северозападу от Эдинбурга

CHAPTER II

10

substitute in my inquiries the name of the house of 
Shaws. It was a word that seemed to surprise those 
of whom I sought my way. At fi rst I thought the 
plainness of my appearance, in my country habit, 
and that all dusty from the road, consorted ill with 
the greatness of the place to which I was bound. But 
aft er two, or maybe three, had given me the same 
look and the same answer, I began to take it in my 
head there was something strange about the Shaws 
itself.
I changed the form of my inquiries; and spying 
an honest fellow coming along a lane on the shaft  
of his cart, I asked him if he had ever heard tell of a 
house they called the house of Shaws.
‘What’ll like be your business, mannie1?’ 
‘I was led to think that I would get a situation,’ I 
said, looking as modest as I could. 
‘What?’ cries the carter, in so sharp a note that 
his very horse started; and then, ‘Well, mannie,’ he 
added, ‘it’s nane of my aff airs; but ye seem a decentspoken lad; and if ye’ll take a word from me, ye’ll 
keep clear of the Shaws.’
Th e next person I came across was a dapper little 
man in a beautiful white wig, whom I saw to be a 
barber on his rounds; and knowing well that barbers 
were great gossips, I asked him plainly what sort of a 
man was Mr. Balfour of the Shaws.

1 mannie = boy — (шотл.) мальчик, сынок