of
them a real full-blown beauty, Madame Green, the singer--and looking
very engaging himself, between smiles and tears. Not that he cried in
public. My, but we were a tired crowd! However, it is always a blessing
to get home, and this time it was a sort of wonder to ourselves that we
got back alive. Casualties: Fanny's back jarred, horse incident; Belle,
bad headache, tears, and champagne; self, idiocy, champagne, fatigue;
Lloyd, ditto, ditto. As for the adventurer, I believe he will have a
delightful voyage for his little start in life. But there is always
something touching in a mite's first launch.

_Date unknown._--I am now well on with the third part of the
_Debacle_.[47] The two first I liked much; the second completely
knocking me; so far as it has gone, this third part appears the
ramblings of a dull man who has forgotten what he has to say--he reminds
me of an M.P. But Sedan was really great, and I will pick no holes. The
batteries under fire, the red-cross folk, the county charge--perhaps,
above all, Major Bouroche and the operations, all beyond discussion; and
every word about the Emperor splendid.

_September 30th._--_David Balfour_ done, and its author along with it,
or nearly so. Strange to think of even our doctor here repeating his
nonsense about debilitating climate. Why, the work I have been doing the
last twelve months, in one continuous spate, mostly with annoying
interruptions and without any collapse to mention, would be incredible
in Norway. But I _have_ broken down now, and will do nothing as long as
I possibly can. With _David Balfour_ I am very well pleased; in fact
these labours of the last year--I mean _Falesa_ and _D. B._, not Samoa,
of course--seem to me to be nearer what I mean than anything I have ever
done; nearer what I mean by fiction; the nearest thing before was
_Kidnapped_. I am not forgetting the _Master of Ballantrae_, but that
lacked all pleasurableness, and hence was imperfect in essence. So you
see, if I am a little tired, I do not repent.

The third part of the _Debacle_ may be all very fine; but I cannot read
it. It suffers from _impaired vitality_, and _uncertain aim_; two deadly
sicknesses. Vital--that's what I am at, first: wholly vital, with a
buoyancy of life. Then lyrical, if it may be, and picturesque, always
with an epic value of scenes, so that the figures remain in the mind's
eye for ever.

_October 8th._--Suppose you sent us some of the catalogues of the
part