majesty strictly charged the three that they should not on
peril of their lives mention the circumstances to anyone. Nor to the best
of my belief did they do so, being so shrewdly scared when they recognized
the king that I verily think they never afterwards so much as spoke of the
affair to one another. My master further gave me on his own part his most
gracious promise that he would not disclose the matter even to Madame de
Verneuil or the queen, and upon these representations he induced me freely
to forgive the innkeeper. So ended this conspiracy, on the diverting
details of which I may seem to have dwelt longer than I should; but alas!
in twenty-one years of power I investigated many, and this one only can I
regard with satisfaction. The rest were so many warnings and predictions
of the fate which, despite all my care and fidelity, was in store for the
great and good master I served.

Robert Louis Stevenson

_The Pavilion on the Links_

I

I was a great solitary when I was young. I made it my pride to keep aloof
and suffice for my own entertainment; and I may say that I had neither
friends nor acquaintances until I met that friend who became my wife and
the mother of my children. With one man only was I on private terms; this
was R. Northmour, Esquire, of Graden Easter, in Scotland. We had met at
college; and though there was not much liking between us, nor even much
intimacy, we were so nearly of a humor that we could associate with ease
to both. Misanthropes, we believed ourselves to be; but I have thought
since that we were only sulky fellows. It was scarcely a companionship,
but a co-existence in unsociability. Northmour's exceptional violence of
temper made it no easy affair for him to keep the peace with anyone but
me; and as he respected my silent ways, and let me come and go as I
pleased, I could tolerate his presence without concern. I think we called
each other friends.

When Northmour took his degree and I decided to leave the university
without one, he invited me on a long visit to Graden Easter; and it was
thus that I first became acquainted with the scene of my adventures. The
mansion house of Graden stood in a bleak stretch of country some three
miles from the shore of the German Ocean. It was as large as a barrack;
and as it had been built of a soft stone, liable to consume in the eager
air of the seaside, it was damp and draughty within and half ruinous
without. It was impossib