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- Роберт Льюис Стивенсон
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- Стр. 128/166
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Alan
had
stopped
opposite
to
me
,
his
hat
cocked
,
his
hands
in
his
breeches
pockets
,
his
head
a
little
on
one
side
.
He
listened
,
smiling
evilly
,
as
I
could
see
by
the
starlight
;
and
when
I
had
done
he
began
to
whistle
a
Jacobite
air
.
It
was
the
air
made
in
mockery
of
General
Cope
's
defeat
at
Preston
Pans
:
"
Hey
,
Johnnie
Cope
,
are
ye
waukin
'
yet
?
And
are
your
drums
a-beatin
'
yet
?
"
And
it
came
in
my
mind
that
Alan
,
on
the
day
of
that
battle
,
had
been
engaged
upon
the
royal
side
.
"
Why
do
ye
take
that
air
,
Mr.
Stewart
?
"
said
I.
"
Is
that
to
remind
me
you
have
been
beaten
on
both
sides
?
"
The
air
stopped
on
Alan
's
lips
.
"
David
!
"
said
he
.
"
But
it
's
time
these
manners
ceased
,
"
I
continued
;
"
and
I
mean
you
shall
henceforth
speak
civilly
of
my
King
and
my
good
friends
the
Campbells
.
"
"
I
am
a
Stewart
--
"
began
Alan
.
"
O
!
"
says
I
,
"
I
ken
ye
bear
a
king
's
name
.
But
you
are
to
remember
,
since
I
have
been
in
the
Highlands
,
I
have
seen
a
good
many
of
those
that
bear
it
;
and
the
best
I
can
say
of
them
is
this
,
that
they
would
be
none
the
worse
of
washing
.
"
"
Do
you
know
that
you
insult
me
?
"
said
Alan
,
very
low
.
