At the same time, I learn that letters addressed to the German squadron lie for them here in the Post Office. Reports are current of other English ships being on the way - I hope to goodness yours will be among the number. And I gather from one thing and another that there must be a holy row going on between the powers at home, and that the issue (like all else connected with Samoa) is on the knees of the gods. One thing, however, is pretty sure - if that issue prove to be a German Protectorate, I shall have to tramp. Can you give us any advice as to a fresh field of energy? We have been searching the atlas, and it seems difficult to fill the bill. How would Rarotonga do? I forget if you have been there. The best of it is that my new house is going up like winking, and I am dictating this letter to the accompaniment of saws and hammers. A hundred black boys and about a score draught-oxen perished, or at least barely escaped with their lives, from the mud-holes on our road, bringing up the materials. It will be a fine legacy to H.I.G.M.'s Protectorate, and doubtless the Governor will take it for his country-house. The Ringarooma people, by the way, seem very nice. I liked Stansfield particularly.
Our middy has gone up to San Francisco in pursuit of the phantom Education. We have good word of him, and I hope he will not be in disgrace again, as he was when the hope of the British Navy - need I say that I refer to Admiral Burney? - honoured us last. The next time you come, as the new house will be finished, we shall be able to offer you a bed. Nares and Meiklejohn may like to hear that our new room is to be big enough to dance in. It will be a very pleasant day for me to see the Curacoa in port again and at least a proper contingent of her officers 'skipping in my 'all.'
We have just had a feast on my birthday at which we had three of the Ringaromas, and I wish they had been three CURACOAS - say yourself, Hoskin, and Burney the ever Great. (Consider this an invitation.) Our boys had got the thing up regardless. There were two huge sows - oh, brutes of animals that would have broken down a hansom cab - four smaller pigs, two barrels of beef, and a horror of vegetables and fowls. We sat down between forty and fifty in a big new native house behind the kitchen that you have never seen, and ate and public spoke till all was blue. Then we had about half an hour's holiday with some beer and sherry and brandy and soda to restrengthen the European heart, and then out to the old native house to see a siva. Finally, all the guests were packed off in a trackless black night and down a road that was rather fitted for the CURACOA than any human pedestrian, though to be sure I do not know the draught of the CURACOA. My ladies one and all desire to be particularly remembered to our friends on board, and all look forward, as I do myself, in the hope of your return. - Yours sincerely,
ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON.
And let me hear from you again!
Letter: TO CHARLES BAXTER
1ST DEC. '92.
. . . I have a novel on the stocks to be called THE JUSTICE-CLERK. It is pretty Scotch, the Grand Premier is taken from Braxfield - (Oh, by the by, send me Cockburn's MEMORIALS) - and some of the story is - well - queer. The heroine is seduced by one man, and finally disappears with the other man who shot him. . . . Mind you, I expect the JUSTICE-CLERK to be my masterpiece. My Braxfield is already a thing of beauty and a joy for ever, and so far as he has gone FAR my best character.
[LATER.]
Second thought. I wish Pitcairn's CRIMINAL TRIALS QUAM PRIMUM. Also, an absolutely correct text of the Scots judiciary oath.
Also, in case Pitcairn does not come down late enough, I wish as full a report as possible of a Scotch murder trial between 1790- 1820. Understand, THE FULLEST POSSIBLE.
Is there any book which would guide me as to the following facts?
The Justice-Clerk tries some people capitally on circuit. Certain evidence cropping up, the charge is transferred to the J.-C.'s own son.