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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"Essays of Travel"

You must enter a hotel
with military precautions; for the least you had to apprehend was
to awake next morning without money or baggage, or necessary
raiment, a lone forked radish in a bed; and if the worst befell,
you would instantly and mysteriously disappear from the ranks of
mankind.
I have usually found such stories correspond to the least modicum
of fact. Thus I was warned, I remember, against the roadside inns
of the Cevennes, and that by a learned professor; and when I
reached Pradelles the warning was explained--it was but the far-
away rumour and reduplication of a single terrifying story already
half a century old, and half forgotten in the theatre of the
events. So I was tempted to make light of these reports against
America. But we had on board with us a man whose evidence it would
not do to put aside. He had come near these perils in the body; he
had visited a robber inn. The public has an old and well-grounded
favour for this class of incident, and shall be gratified to the
best of my power.
My fellow-passenger, whom we shall call M'Naughten, had come from
New York to Boston with a comrade, seeking work. They were a pair
of rattling blades; and, leaving their baggage at the station,
passed the day in beer saloons, and with congenial spirits, until
midnight struck. Then they applied themselves to find a lodging,
and walked the streets till two, knocking at houses of
entertainment and being refused admittance, or themselves declining
the terms.


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