Transcribed 1898 William Heinemann edition ,email ccx074@pflaf.org
Being
The Adventures of a FrenchPrisoner
in England
By
Robert Louis Stevenson
secondedition
London
William Heinemann
1898
p. ivFirstEdition, May 5, 1897; Reprinted May 6, 1897
All rights reserved
The following tale was taken down from Mr.Stevenson’s dictation by his stepdaughter andamanuensis, Mrs. Strong, at intervals betweenJanuary 1893 and October 1894 (see VailimaLetters, pp. 242–246, 299, 324 and350). About six weeks before his death he laid the storyaside to take up Weir of Hermiston. The thirtychapters of St. Ives which he had written (the lastfew of them apparently unrevised) brought the tale withinsight of its conclusion, and the intended course of theremainder was known in outline to Mrs. Strong. Forthe benefit of those readers who do not like a story to be leftunfinished, the delicate task of supplying the missingchapters has been entrusted to Mr. Quiller-Couch, whosework begins at Chap. XXXI. [0]
[S. C.]
It was in the month of May 1813 that I was so unlucky as tofall at last into the hands of the enemy. My knowledge ofthe English language had marked me out for a certainemployment. Though I cannot conceive a soldier refusing toincur the risk, yet to be hanged for a spy is a disgustingbusiness; and I was relieved to be held a prisoner of war. Into the Castle of Edinburgh, standing in the midst of that cityon the summit of an extraordinary rock, I was cast with severalhundred fellow-sufferers, all privates like myself, and the morepart of them, by an accident, very ignorant, plain fellows. My English, which had brought me into that scrape, now helped mevery materially to bear it. I had a thousandadvantages. I was often called to play the part of aninterpreter, whether of orders or complaints, and thus brought inrelations, sometimes of mirth, sometimes almost of friendship,with the officers in charge. A young lieutenant singled meout to be his adversary at chess, a game in which I was extremelyproficient, and would reward me for my gambits with excellentcigars. The major of the battalion took lessons of Frenchfrom me while at breakfast, and was sometimes so obliging as tohave me join him at the meal. Chevenix was his name. He was stiff as a drum-major and selfish as an Englishman, but afairly conscientious pupil and a fairly upright man. Littledid I suppose that his ramrod body and frozen face would, in theend, step in between me and all my dearest wishes; that upon thisprecise, regular, icy soldier-man my fortunes should so nearlyshipwreck! I never liked, but yet I trusted him; and thoughit may seem but a trifle, I found his snuff-box with the bean init come very welcome.
For it is strange how grown men and seasoned soldiers can goback in life; so that after but a little while in prison, whichis after all the next thing to being in the nursery, they growabsorbed in the most pitiful, childish interests, and a sugarbiscuit or a pinch of snuff become thing