ISBN: 9788822880505

I dropped wearily from my horse and stumbled forward to the door. 'Twas close shut, butrays of light came through the chinks at the foot, and the great light in the further windowlit up t… Mehr…

I dropped wearily from my horse and stumbled forward to the door. 'Twas close shut, butrays of light came through the chinks at the foot, and the great light in the further windowlit up the ground for some yards. I knocked loudly with my sword-hilt. Stillness seemed toreign within, save that from some distant room a faint sound of men's voices was brought.A most savory smell stole out to the raw air and revived my hunger with hopes of supper.Again I knocked, this time rudely, and the door rattled on its hinges. This brought somesigns of life from within. I could hear a foot on the stone floor of a passage, a bustling as ofmany folk running hither and thither, and a great barking of a sheep-dog. Of a sudden thedoor was flung open, a warm blaze of light rushed forth, and I stood blinking before themaster of the house.He was a tall, grizzled man of maybe fifty years, thin, with a stoop in his back that all hill-folk have, and a face brown with sun and wind. I judged him fifty, but he may have beenyounger by ten years, for in that desert men age the speedier. His dress was dirty andragged in many places, and in one hand he carried a pistol, which he held before him as iffor protection. He stared at me for a second.Wha are ye that comes dirlin' here on sic a nicht? said he, and I give his speech as Iremember it. As he uttered the words, he looked me keenly in the face, and I felt his thin,cold glance piercing to the roots of my thoughts. I liked the man ill, for, what with his leanfigure and sour countenance, he was far different from the jovial, well-groomed fellowswho will give you greeting at any wayside inn from Calais to Bordeaux.You ask a strange question, and one little needing answer. If a man has wandered forhours in bog-holes, he will be in no mind to stand chaffering at inn doors. I seek a night'slodging for my horse and myself.It's little we can give you, for it's a bare, sinfu' land, said he, but such as I ha'e ye'rewelcome to. Bide a minute, and I'll bring a licht to tak' ye to the stable. Digital Content>E-books>Fiction>Fiction>Fiction, John Buchan Digital >16<

ISBN: 9788822880505

Before me stretched a black heath, over which the mist blew in gusts, and through whose midst the road crept like an adder. Great storm-marked hills flanked me on either side, and since I… Mehr…

Before me stretched a black heath, over which the mist blew in gusts, and through whose midst the road crept like an adder. Great storm-marked hills flanked me on either side, and since I set out I had seen their harsh outline against a thick sky, until I longed for flat ground to rest my sight upon. The way was damp, and the soft mountain gravel sank under my horse's feet; and ever and anon my legs were splashed by the water from some pool which the rain had left. Shrill mountain birds flew around, and sent their cries through the cold air. Sometimes the fog would lift for a moment from the face of the land and show me a hilltop or the leaden glimmer of a loch, but nothing more-no green field or homestead; only a barren and accursed desert.Neither horse nor man was in any spirit. My back ached, and I shivered in my sodden garments, while my eyes were dim from gazing on flying clouds. The poor beast stumbled often, for he had traveled far on little fodder, and a hill-road was a new thing in his experience. Saladin I called him-for I had fancied that there was something Turkish about his black face, with the heavy turban-like band above his forehead-in my old fortunate days when I bought him. He was a fine horse of the Normandy breed, and had carried me on many a wild journey, though on none so forlorn as this. Digital Content>E-books>Fiction>Fiction>Fiction, John Buchan Digital >16<

ISBN: 9788822880505

In the mid-sixteenth century, Jean de Rohaine, a middle-aged French nobleman, journeys to Scotland in search of adventure and a new beginning. In Scotland he meets up with his old friend,… Mehr…

In the mid-sixteenth century, Jean de Rohaine, a middle-aged French nobleman, journeys to Scotland in search of adventure and a new beginning. In Scotland he meets up with his old friend, Quentin Kennedy, who informs him of a great battle to be waged. Having witnessed Royalist troops butchering suspected Covenanters, he follows the example of ‘godly’ refugees and escapes to the safety of the hills around Eskdalemuir and the head of Ettrick Water. Whilst staying at the Manse of Lindean, he falls in love but honour forbids he should win a woman he has pledged to protect for another. It is a unique novel of a haunting Scottish lifestyle that differs from Buchan’s later works, such as „The Thirty-Nine Steps”. The love story here is also central in a way that it is not to later works by Buchan, so that aspect of the narrative will prove interesting to readers who might be curious about how Buchan examines gender and sexuality in his fiction. Digital Content>E-books>Fiction>Fiction>Fiction, John Buchan Digital >16<

ISBN: 9788822880505

The narrative, now for the first time presented to the world, was written by the Sieur de Rohaine to while away the time during the long period and painful captivity, borne with heroic re… Mehr…

The narrative, now for the first time presented to the world, was written by the Sieur de Rohaine to while away the time during the long period and painful captivity, borne with heroic resolution, which preceded his death. He chose the English tongue, in which he was extraordinarily proficient, for two reasons: first, as an exercise in the language; second, because he desired to keep the passages here recorded from the knowledge of certain of his kins-folk in France. Few changes have been made in his work. Now and then an English idiom has been substituted for a French; certain tortuous expressions have been emended; and in general the portions in the Scots dialect have been rewritten, since the author's knowledge of this manner of speech seems scarcely to have been so great as he himself thought. Digital Content>E-books>Fiction>Fiction>Fiction, Publisher s11838 Digital >16<