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CHAPTER XXIX
25TH APRIL.
MY DEAR COLVIN, - To-day early I sent down to Maben (Secretary of State) an offer to bring up people from Malie, keep them in my house, and bring them down day by day for so long as the negotiation should last. I have a favourable answer so far. This I would not have tried, had not old Sir George Grey put me on my mettle; 'Never despair,' was his word; and 'I am one of the few people who have lived long enough to see how true that is.' Well, thereupon I plunged in; and the thing may do me great harm, but yet I do not think so - for I think jealousy will prevent the trial being made. And at any rate it is another chance for this distracted archipelago of children, sat upon by a clique of fools. If, by the gift of God, I can do - I am allowed to try to do - and succeed: but no, the prospect is too bright to be entertained.
To-day we had a ride down to Tanugamanono, and then by the new wood paths. One led us to a beautiful clearing, with four native houses; taro, yams, and the like, excellently planted, and old Folau - 'the Samoan Jew' - sitting and whistling there in his new-found and well-deserved well- being. It was a good sight to see a Samoan thus before the world. Further up, on our way home, we saw the world clear, and the wide die of the shadow lying broad; we came but a little further, and found in the borders of the bush a Banyan. It must have been 150 feet in height; the trunk, and its acolytes, occupied a great space; above that, in the peaks of the branches, quite a forest of ferns and orchids were set; and over all again the huge spread of the boughs rose against the bright west, and sent their shadow miles to the eastward. I have not often seen anything more satisfying than this vast vegetable.
SUNDAY.
A heavenly day again! the world all dead silence, save when, from far down below us in the woods, comes up the crepitation of the little wooden drum that beats to church. Scarce a leaf stirs; only now and again a great, cool gush of air that makes my papers fly, and is gone. - The King of Samoa has refused my intercession between him and Mataafa; and I do not deny this is a good riddance to me of a difficult business, in which I might very well have failed. What else is to be done for these silly folks?
MAY 12TH.
And this is where I had got to, before the mail arrives with, I must say, a real gentlemanly letter from yourself. Sir, that is the sort of letter I want! Now, I'll make my little proposal. I will accept CHILD'S PLAY and PAN'S PIPES. Then I want PASTORAL, THE MANSE, THE ISLET, leaving out if you like all the prefacial matter and beginning at I. Then the portrait of Robert Hunter, beginning 'Whether he was originally big or little,' and ending 'fearless and gentle.' So much for MEM. AND PORTRAITS. BEGGARS, sections I. and II., RANDOM MEMORIES II., and LANTERN BEARERS; I'm agreeable. These are my selections. I don't know about PULVIS ET UMBRA either, but must leave that to you. But just what you please.
About DAVIE I elaborately wrote last time, but still DAVIE is not done; I am grinding singly at THE EBB TIDE, as we now call the FARALLONE; the most of it will go this mail. About the following, let there be no mistake: I will not write the abstract of KIDNAPPED; write it who will, I will not. Boccaccio must have been a clever fellow to write both argument and story; I am not, ET JE ME RECUSE.
We call it THE EBB TIDE: A TRIO AND QUARTETTE; but that secondary name you may strike out if it seems dull to you. The book, however, falls in two halves, when the fourth character appears. I am on p. 82 if you want to know, and expect to finish on I suppose 110 or so; but it goes slowly, as you may judge from the fact that this three weeks past, I have only struggled from p. 58 to p. 82: twenty-four pages, ET ENCORE sure to be rewritten, in twenty-one days. This is no prize-taker; not much Waverley Novels about this!
MAY 16TH.