No horses, no saddle. Now I had my horse and I could borrow Lafaele's saddle; and if I went alone I could do a job that had long been waiting; and that was to interview the doctor on another matter. Off I set in a hazy moonlight night; windless, like to-day; the thunder rolling in the mountain, as to-day; in the still groves, these little mushroom lamps glowing blue and steady, singly or in pairs. Well, I had my interview, said everything as I had meant, and with just the result I hoped for. The doctor and I drank beer together and discussed German literature until nine, and we parted the best of friends. I got home to a silent house of sleepers, only Fanny awaiting me; we talked awhile, in whispers, on the interview; then, I got a lantern and went across to the workman's house, now empty and silent, myself sole occupant. So to bed, prodigious tired but mighty content with my night's work, and to-day, with a headache and a chill, have written you this page, while my new novel waits. Of this I will tell you nothing, except the various names under consideration. First, it ought to be called - but of course that is impossible -
BRAXFIELD. Then it IS to be called either WEIR OF HERMISTON, THE LORD-JUSTICE CLERK, THE TWO KIRSTIES OF THE CAULDSTANESLAP, or FOUR BLACK BROTHERS.
Characters:
Adam Weir, Lord-Justice Clerk, called Lord Hermiston. Archie, his son. Aunt Kirstie Elliott, his housekeeper at Hermiston. Elliott of the Cauldstaneslap, her brother. Kirstie Elliott, his daughter. Jim, } Gib, } Hob } his sons. & } Dandie, } Patrick Innes, a young advocate. The Lord-Justice General.
Scene, about Hermiston in the Lammermuirs and in Edinburgh. Temp. 1812. So you see you are to have another holiday from copra! The rain begins softly on the iron roof, and I will do the reverse and - dry up.
SUNDAY.
Yours with the diplomatic private opinion received. It is just what I should have supposed. CA M'EST BIEN EGAL. - The name is to be
THE LORD-JUSTICE CLERK.
None others are genuine. Unless it be
LORD-JUSTICE CLERK HERMISTON.
NOV. 2ND.
On Saturday we expected Captain Morse of the Alameda to come up to lunch, and on Friday with genuine South Sea hospitality had a pig killed. On the Saturday morning no pig. Some of the boys seemed to give a doubtful account of themselves; our next neighbour below in the wood is a bad fellow and very intimate with some of our boys, for whom his confounded house is like a fly-paper for flies. To add to all this, there was on the Saturday a great public presentation of food to the King and Parliament men, an occasion on which it is almost dignified for a Samoan to steal anything, and entirely dignified for him to steal a pig.
(The Amanuensis went to the TALOLO, as it is called, and saw something so very pleasing she begs to interrupt the letter to tell it. The different villagers came in in bands - led by the maid of the village, followed by the young warriors. It was a very fine sight, for some three thousand people are said to have assembled. The men wore nothing but magnificent head-dresses and a bunch of leaves, and were oiled and glistening in the sunlight. One band had no maid but was led by a tiny child of about five - a serious little creature clad in a ribbon of grass and a fine head-dress, who skipped with elaborate leaps in front of the warriors, like a little kid leading a band of lions. A.M.)
The A.M. being done, I go on again. All this made it very possible that even if none of our boys had stolen the pig, some of them might know the thief. Besides, the theft, as it was a theft of meat prepared for a guest, had something of the nature of an insult, and 'my face,' in native phrase, 'was ashamed.' Accordingly, we determined to hold a bed of justice. It was done last night after dinner. I sat at the head of the table, Graham on my right hand, Henry Simele at my left, Lloyd behind him. The house company sat on the floor around the walls - twelve all told.