ear as I came, heard some one rattling with dishes; and a little, dry, eager cough, that came in fits; but there was no sound of speech, and not a dog barked.
The door, as well as I could see it in the dim light, was a great piece of wood all studded with nails; and I lifted my hand, with a faint heart under my jacket, and knocked once. Then I stood and waited. The house had fallen into a dead silence; a whole minute passed away, and nothing stirred but the bats overhead. I knocked again; and hearkened again. By this time my ears were grown so accustomed to the quiet, that I could hear the ticking of the clock inside, as it slowly counted out the seconds; but whoever was in that house, kept deadly still and must have held his breath.
I was in two minds whether to run away; but anger got the upper hand; and I began instead to rain kicks and buffets on the door, and to shout out aloud for Mr Balfour. I was in full carreer, when I heard the cough right overhead, and, jumping back and looking up, beheld a man’s head in a tall night-cap and the bell mouth of a blunderbuss at one of the first story windows.
“It’s loaded,” said a voice.
“I have come here with a letter,” I said, “to Mr Ebenezer Balfour of the Shaws. Is he here?”
“From whom is it?” asked the man with the blunderbuss.
“That is neither here nor there,” said I, for I was growing very wroth.
“Well,” was the reply, “ye can put it down upon the doorstep and be off with you.”
“I will do no such thing,” I cried. “I will deliver it into Mr Balfour’s hands, as it was meant I should. It is a letter of introduction.”
“A what?” cried the voice sharply.
I repeated what I had said.
“Who are ye, yourself?” was the next question, after a considerable pause.
“I am not ashamed of my name,” said I. “They call me David Balfour.”
At that, I made sure the man started, for I heard the blunderbuss rattle on the windowsill; and it was after quite a long pause, and with a curious change of voice, that the next question followed:
“Is your father dead?”
I was so much surprised at this, that I could find no voice to answer, but stood staring.
“Ay,” the man resumed, “he’ll be dead, no doubt; and that’ll be what brings ye chapping to my door.” Another pause; and then, defiantly, “Well, man,” he said, “I’ll let you in!” and he disappeared from the window.
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