What am I to do? Lose this little gem - for I'll be bold, and that's what I think it - or go on with the rest, which I don't believe in, and don't like, and which can never make aught but a silly yarn? Make another end to it? Ah, yes, but that's not the way I write; the whole tale is implied; I never use an effect, when I can help it, unless it prepares the effects that are to follow; that's what a story consists in. To make another end, that is to make the beginning all wrong. The denouement of a long story is nothing; it is just a 'full close,' which you may approach and accompany as you please - it is a coda, not an essential member in the rhythm; but the body and end of a short story is bone of the bone and blood of the blood of the beginning. Well, I shall end by finishing it against my judgment; that fragment is my Delilah. Golly, it's good. I am not shining by modesty; but I do just love the colour and movement of that piece so far as it goes.
I was surprised to hear of your fishing. And you saw the 'Pharos,' thrice fortunate man; I wish I dared go home, I would ask the Commissioners to take me round for old sake's sake, and see all my family pictures once more from the Mull of Galloway to Unst. However, all is arranged for our meeting in Ceylon, except the date and the blooming pounds.
I have heard of an exquisite hotel in the country, airy, large rooms, good cookery, not dear; we shall have a couple of months there, if we can make it out, and converse or - as my grandfather always said - 'commune.' 'Communings with Mr. Kennedy as to Lighthouse Repairs.' He was a fine old fellow, but a droll.
EVENING.
Lloyd has returned. Peace and war were played before his eyes at heads or tails. A German was stopped with levelled guns; he raised his whip; had it fallen, we might have been now in war. Excuses were made by Mataafa himself. Doubtless the thing was done - I mean the stopping of the German - a little to show off before Lloyd. Meanwhile - was up here, telling how the Chief Justice was really gone for five or eight weeks, and begging me to write to the TIMES and denounce the state of affairs; many strong reasons he advanced; and Lloyd and I have been since his arrival and -'s departure, near half an hour, debating what should be done.
Cedarcrantz is gone; it is not my fault; he knows my views on that point - alone of all points; - he leaves me with my mouth sealed. Yet this is a nice thing that because he is guilty of a fresh offence - his flight - the mouth of the only possible influential witness should be closed? I do not like this argument. I look like a cad, if I do in the man's absence what I could have done in a more manly manner in his presence. True; but why did he go? It is his last sin. And I, who like the man extremely - that is the word - I love his society - he is intelligent, pleasant, even witty, a gentleman - and you know how that attaches - I loathe to seem to play a base part; but the poor natives - who are like other folk, false enough, lazy enough, not heroes, not saints - ordinary men damnably misused - are they to suffer because I like Cedarcrantz, and Cedarcrantz has cut his lucky? This is a little tragedy, observe well - a tragedy! I may be right, I may be wrong in my judgment, but I am in treaty with my honour. I know not how it will seem to-morrow. Lloyd thought the barrier of honour insurmountable, and it is an ugly obstacle. He (Cedarcrantz) will likely meet my wife three days from now, may travel back with her, will be charming if he does; suppose this, and suppose him to arrive and find that I have sprung a mine - or the nearest approach to it I could find - behind his back? My position is pretty.
Yes, I am an aristocrat. I have the old petty, personal view of honour? I should blush till I die if I do this; yet it is on the cards that I may do it. So much I have written you in bed, as a man writes, or talks, in a BITTRE WAHL. Now I shall sleep, and see if I am more clear. I will consult the missionaries at least - I place some reliance in M. also - or I should if he were not a partisan; but a partisan he is.
There's the pity. To sleep! A fund of wisdom in the prostrate body and the fed brain. Kindly observe R. L. S. in the talons of politics! 'Tis funny - 'tis sad. Nobody but these cursed idiots could have so driven me; I cannot bear idiots.