2. And in three of the lower windows, which were very high up and narrow, and well barred, the changing light of a little fire began to glimmer.

3. On the one hand, I began to think my uncle was perhaps insane and might be dangerous.

4. At this hearing, I was seized with both fear and anger at these treacherous, greedy, bloody men that I sailed with.

5. The sea had gone down, and the wind was steady and kept the sails quiet.

6. I have seen wicked men and fools, a great many of both, and I believe they both get paid in the end; but the fools first.

7. I will begin the story of my adventures with a certain morning early in the month of June, the year of grace 1751, when I took the key for the last time out of the door of my father’s house.

9. To my surprise, he lit no lamp or candle, but set forth into the dark passage, groped his way, breathing deeply, up a flight of steps, and paused before a door, which he unlocked.

10. When we had made an end of our meal, my uncle Ebenezer unlocked a drawer, and drew out of it a clay pipe and a lump of tobacco, from which he cut one fill before he locked it up again.

19. The room was as cold as a well, and the bed, when I had found my way to it, as damp as a peat-hag.

20. And nothing but the sight of my uncle, and his eyes playing hide and seek with mine, revived the force of my distrust.

21. The wind was still moaning in the distance, though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws.

22. If I did not cry out, it was because fear had me by the throat.

23. All these pleasant things, and a thousand others, crowded into my mind, as I sat staring before me out of the inn window, and paying no heed to what I saw.

24. As soon as we were alongside (where I sat fairly gaping at the ship’s height, the strong humming of the tide against its sides, and the pleasant cries of the seamen at their work) Hoseason, declaring that he and I must be the first aboard, ordered a tackle to be sent down from the main-yard.

25. But sleep at length stole from me the consciousness of sorrow.

26. I asked about the captain; but I was told drink made no difference upon that man of iron.

27. He was smallish in stature, but well set and as nimble as a goat.

28. They were dogs and thieves; they had stolen me from my own country; they had killed poor Ransome; and was I to hold the candle to another murder?

29. I tried to pray, I remember, but that same hurry of my mind, like a man running, would not suffer me to think upon the words.

30. All the while, the flush was in his face, and his eyes were as bright as a five-year-old child’s with a new toy.

31. “When the men of the clans were broken at Culloden, and the good cause went down, and the horses rode over the fetlocks in the best blood of the north, Ardshiel had to flee like a poor deer upon the mountains.

32. Then Alan would give another “peep!” and the man would come still nearer; and so by the sound of whistling, he was guided to the spot where we lay.

33. The trees clung upon the slope, like sailors on the shrouds of a ship.

34. “And when a friend that likes you very well has passed over an offence without a word, you would be blithe to let it lie, instead of making it a stick to break his back with.”

35. So I went up and down and through the street, and down to the harbour-side, like a dog that has lost its master, with a strange gnawing in my inwards, and every now and then a movement of despair.

36. “That is the house of Shaws!” she cried. “Blood built it; blood stopped the building of it; blood shall bring it down.”

37. Ten years ago, or perhaps twenty, it must have been as pleasant a room to lie down or to awake in, as a man could wish; but damp, dirt, disuse, and the mice and spiders had done their worst since then.

38. The whole world now heaved giddily up, and now rushed giddily downward.

40. The round-house, for which I was bound, and where I was now to sleep and serve, stood some six feet above the decks, and considering the size of the brig, was of good dimensions.

41. “And wherever ye go and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck will come around you.”

42. I was afraid to think what had befallen my shipmates, and afraid to look longer at so empty a scene.

43. The Ross of Mull, which I had now got upon, was rugged and trackless, like the isle I had just left; being all bog, and briar, and big stone.

44. The punch threw me in a strong sweat and a deep slumber.

45. So we continued talking and walking the great part of the day.

46. My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue so hung out of my mouth with heat and dryness, that I lay beside him like one dead.

47. I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle, than in that warm wood beside a murderer.

48. So there we stood, side by side upon a small rock slippery with spray, a far broader leap in front of us, and the river dinning upon all sides.

49. Alan took me and shook me.

50. Even so far up the firth,the smell of the sea water was exceedingly salt and stirring.

51. I heard a gun fire, and supposed the storm had proved too strong for us, and we were firing signals of distress.

52. A small man of about thirty, with green eyes and a tangle of fair hair, stood looking down at me.

53. It was by no choice of mine, but as if by compulsion, that I walked right up to the table and put my hand on his shoulder.

54. In all other ways we were in a situation not only agreeable but merry; having ousted the officers from their own cabin, and having at command all the drink in the ship – both wine and spirits – and all the dainty part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort of bread.

55. The sky was clear; it blew hard, and was bitter cold; a great deal of daylight lingered; and the moon, which was nearly full, shone brightly.

56. The last thing I heard was still the crying of the eagles.

57. Well, I was even envying this dumb brute, when the door fell open and there issued forth a shrewd, ruddy, kindly, consequential man in a well-powdered wig and spectacles.

58. It was dark and mild, with a pleasant, rustling wind in the southwest that covered the sound of our approach.

59. In those days folk still believed in witches and trembled at the curse.

60. And if I did not fall, it was more by Heaven’s mercy than my own strength.

61. Now whether my uncle thought the crash to be the sound of my fall, or whether he heard in it God’s voice denouncing murder, I will leave you to guess.

62. The warlock of Essendean, they say, had made a mirror in which men could read the future.

63. Heasy-oasy (for so he still named the skipper) was a man, by his account, that minded for nothing either in heaven or earth; one that, as people said, would “crack on all sail into the day of judgment.”

64. “Why, sir,” replied the captain, “I am a true-blue Protestant, and I thank God for it."

65. He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies.

66. Now, the tenants of Appin have to pay a rent to King George; but their hearts are staunch, they are true to their chief.

67. Charles the Second declared a man could stay outdoors more days in the year in the climate of England than in any other.

68. “Did ever ye hear tell of the story of the Man and the Good People?” – by which he meant the fairies.

69. We took turn about to lie on the naked rock, which was indeed like the position of that saint that was martyred on a gridiron.

70. And tearing a corner from his French military commission (which he carried in his pocket, like a talisman to keep him from the gallows), he sat down and wrote as follows.

72. The underlined words in Line 9 (line 9: …"by the touch was of fine hewn stone; the steps, too, though somewhat steep and narrow, were of polished) are examples of . . .

Read the following passage: Out I went into the night. The wind was still moaning in the distance, though never a breath of it came near the house of Shaws. It had fallen blacker than ever; and I was glad to feel along the wall, till I came the length of the stair-tower door at the far end of the unfinished wing. I had got the key into the keyhole and had just turned it, when all upon a sudden, without sound of wind or thunder, the whole sky lighted up with wildfire and went black again. I had to put my hand over my eyes to get back to the colour of the darkness; and indeed I was already half blinded when I stepped into the tower.

It was so dark inside, it seemed a body could scarce breathe; but I pushed out with foot and hand, and presently struck the wall with the one, and the lowermost round of the stair with the other. The wall, by the touch was of fine hewn stone; the steps, too, though somewhat steep and narrow, were of polished mason-work, and regular and solid underfoot. Minding my uncle’s word about the banisters, I kept close to the tower side, and felt my way in the pitch darkness with a beating heart.

The house of Shaws stood some five full stories high, not counting lofts. Well, as I advanced, it seemed to me the stairs were airier and a thought more lightsome; and I was wondering what might be the cause of this change, when a second blink of the summer lightning came and went. If I did not cry out, it was because fear had me by the throat; and if I did not fall, it was more by Heaven’s mercy than my own strength. It was not only that the flash shone in on every side through breaches in the wall, so that I seemed to be clambering aloft upon an open scaffold, but the passing brightness showed me the steps were of unequal length, and that one of my feet rested that moment within two inches of the well. (From Chapter 4 "I Run a Great Danger in the House of Shaws")

74. The tone of the passage is established by ALL of the following sensory imagery EXCEPT . . .