f it to his
companions, his landing on the atoll with the bottle of vitriol in his
breast. On the other hand, the Paris portion of "The Wrecker" was all
Stevenson's, as well as the concluding chapters of both the South Sea
books.

It is not possible to disentangle anything else that was wholly mine or
his--the blending was too complete, our method of work too criss-crossed
and intimate. For instance, we would begin by outlining the story in a
general way; this done, we marshalled it into chapters, with a few
explanatory words to each; then it was for me to write the first draft
of Chapter I. This I would read to him, and if satisfactory it was laid
to one side; but were it not, I would rewrite it, embodying his
criticisms. Each chapter in turn was fully discussed in advance before I
put pen to paper; and in this way, though the actual first draft was in
my own hand, the form of the story continually took shape under
Stevenson's eyes. When my first draft of the entire book was finished
he would rewrite it again from cover to cover.

I can remember nothing more delightful than the days we thus passed
together. If our three books are in no wise great, they preserve, it
seems to me, something of the zest and exhilaration that went into their
making--the good humour, the eagerness.

We were both under the glamour of the Islands--and that life, so
strange, so picturesque, so animated, took us both by storm. Kings and
beachcombers, pearl-fishers and princesses, traders, slavers, and
schooner-captains, castaways, and runaways--what a world it was! And all
this in a fairyland of palms, and glassy bays, and little lost
settlements nestling at the foot of forest and mountain, with kings to
make brotherhood with us, and a dubious white man or two, in earrings
and pyjamas, no less insistent to extend to us the courtesies of the
"beach."

It was amid such people, and amid such scenes, that "The Ebb-Tide" and
"The Wrecker" were written.

LLOYD OSBOURNE.

PART I

THE TRIO

THE EBB-TIDE

CHAPTER I

NIGHT ON THE BEACH

Throughout the island world of the Pacific, scattered men of many
European races, and from almost every grade of society, carry activity
and disseminate disease. Some prosper, some vegetate. Some have mounted
the steps of thrones and owned islands and navies. Others again must
marry for a livelihood; a strapping, merry, chocolate-coloured dame
supports them in sheer idleness; and, dresse