The unknown stories

My adventures began on a certain morning early in the month of June,in 1751.It was the last time that I took the key out of the door of my father's house.The sun was shining upon the summit of the hills as I went down the road.Mr.Campbell,the minister of Essendean,was waiting for me by the garden gate,good man! 'Well,Davie,lad,'said he, 'I will go with you as far as the ford,to set you on my way.' 'Are you sorry to leave Essendean?' said he,after a while. '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 both are dead,I shall be no nearer to in Essendean than in the Kingdom of Hungary,and,to speak the 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.Then I would say that you fortunate.When your mother was gone,and your father began to sicken for his end,he gave me in charge a certain letter,which he said was your inheritance.He said that you need to go to the House of Shaw in which is not far from Cramond.This was the place he had come from and this is where you should return.' 'The House of Shaws!'I cried. 'What had my poor father to do with the House of Shaws?' '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 but in these latter days decayed.Your father,too,was a man of learning as befitted his position;no man more plausibly conducted school;nor had he the manner or the speech of a common man.Lastly,to put all the elements of this affair before you,here is the said letter written by your father.'He gave me the letter which address 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. 'Mr Campbell,'1 stammered, 'If you were in my shoes,would you go?' 'Of a surety,'said the minister that I and without pause.A pretty lad like you should get to Cramond (which is near Edinburgh)in two days of walk.If the worst came to the worst,and your high relations should put you to the door,you can but walk the two days back again and tap my door.But I would rather hope that you shall be well received.' 'Be simple,Davie,in things immaterial,'continued he sitting down on a boulder. 'Bear you this in mind that though gentle born,you have had a country rearing.Don't shame us,Davie,don't shame us!In your great house,with all these domestics,upper and under,show yourself as nice, as circumspect,as quick at the conception and as slow speech as any.As for the lord –remember he's the lord;I say no more:honour him.It's a pleasure to obey a lord;or should be, to 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.I knew we were about to past our ways. The next moment,he got upon his feet,took off his hat and prayed a little whie aloud,and in affecting terms,for a young man setting out into the world;then suddenly took me in his arms and embraced me very hard;then held me at arm's length,looked at me with his face all working with sorrow;and then whipped about,and crying goodbye to me,set off backward by the way we had come sprinting.I watched him for as long as he was in sight.And then I too turned around and set out to my journey for the House of Shaws.