e, with never a drop of Scotch
blood in my veins, and I told him this, regretting the absence of the
blood tie."

"'I could have sworn your back was the back of a Scotsman,' was his
comment, 'but,' and he held out his hand, 'you look sick, and there is
a fellowship in sickness not to be denied.' I said I was not strong,
and had come to the Island on account of my health. 'Well, then,'
replied Mr Stevenson, 'it shall be my business to help you to get
well; come to Vailima whenever you like, and if I am out, ask for
refreshment, and wait until I come in, you will always find a welcome
there.'"

At this point my informant turned away, and there was a break in his
voice as he exclaimed, "Ah, the years go on, and I don't miss him
less, but more; next to my mother he was the best friend I ever had: a
man with a heart of gold; his house was a second home to me."

Stevenson's experience shows how easy it is with a certain type of man,
to restore the old feudal conditions of service and relationship.
Stevenson did this in essentials in Samoa. He tells us how he managed to
get good service out of the Samoans (who are accredited with great
unwillingness to work); and this he _did_ by firm, but generous, kindly,
almost brotherly treatment, reviving, as it were, a kind of clan
life--giving a livery of certain colours--symbol of all this. A little
fellow of eight, he tells, had been taken into the household, made a pet
of by Mrs Strong, his stepdaughter, and had had a dress given to him,
like that of the men; and, when one day he had strolled down by himself
as far as the hotel, and the master of it, seeing him, called out in
Samoan, "Hi, youngster, who are you?" The eight-year-old replied, "Why,
don't you see for yourself? I am one of the Vailima men!"

The story of the _Road of the Loving Heart_ was but another fine
attestation of it.

CHAPTER XII--HIS GENIUS AND METHODS

To have created a school of idolaters, who will out and out swear by
everything, and as though by necessity, at the same time, a school of
studious detractors, who will suspiciously question everything, or throw
out suggestions of disparagement, is at all events, a proof of greatness,
the countersign of undoubted genius, and an assurance of lasting fame. R.
L. Stevenson has certainly secured this. Time will tell what of virtue
there is with either party. For me, who knew Stevenson, and loved him,
as