ine affection; he is a loveable man.

Wearyful man! "Here is the yarn of Loudon Dodd, _not as he told it, but
as it was afterwards written_."[38] These words were left out by some
carelessness, and I think I have been thrice tackled about them. Grave
them in your mind and wear them on your forehead.

The Lang story will have very little about the treasure; the Master[39]
will appear; and it is to a great extent a tale of Prince Charlie
_after_ the '45, and a love story forbye: the hero is a melancholy
exile, and marries a young woman who interests the prince, and there is
the devil to pay. I think the Master kills him in a duel, but don't know
yet, not having yet seen my second heroine. No--the Master doesn't kill
him, they fight, he is wounded, and the Master plays _deus ex machina_.
_I think_ just now of calling it _The Tail of the Race_; no--heavens! I
never saw till this moment--but of course nobody but myself would ever
understand Mill-Race, they would think of a quarter-mile. So--I am
nameless again. My melancholy young man is to be quite a Romeo. Yes,
I'll name the book from him: _Dyce of Ythan_--pronounce Eethan.

Dyce of Ythan
by R. L. S.

O, Shovel--Shovel waits his turn, he and his ancestors. I would have
tackled him before, but my _State Trials_ have never come. So that I
have now quite planned:--

Dyce of Ythan. (Historical, 1750.)

Sophia Scarlet. (To-day.)

The Shovels of Newton French. (Historical, 1650 to 1830.)

And quite planned and part written:--

The Pearl Fisher. (To-day.) (With Lloyd: a machine.)[40]

David Balfour. (Historical, 1751.)

And, by a strange exception for R. L. S., all in the third person except
D. B.

I don't know what day this is now (the 29th), but I have finished my two
chapters, ninth and tenth, of _Samoa_ in time for the mail, and feel
almost at peace. The tenth was the hurricane, a difficult problem; it so
tempted one to be literary; and I feel sure the less of that there is in
my little handbook, the more chance it has of some utility. Then the
events are complicated, seven ships to tell of, and sometimes three of
them together; O, it was quite a job. But I think I have my facts pretty
correct, and for once, in my sickening yarn, they are handsome facts:
creditable to all concerned; not to be written of--and I should think,
scarce to be read--without a thrill. I doubt I have got no hurricane
into it, the intricacies of the yarn absorbing me too