Do acknowledge the _Pavilion_ by return. I shall be so nervous till I hear, as of course I have no copy except of one or two places where the vein would not run. God prosper it, poor _Pavilion_! May it bring me money for myself and my sick one, who may read it, I do not know how soon. Love to your wife, Anthony and all. I shall write to Colvin to-day or to-morrow.—Yours ever, R. L. S. TO W. E. HENLEY [_Monterey_, _California_, _October_ 1879.] MY DEAR HENLEY,—Many thanks for your good letter, which is the best way to forgive you for your previous silence. I hope Colvin or somebody has sent me the _Cornhill_ and the _New Quarterly_, though I am trying to get them in San Francisco. I think you might have sent me (1) some of your articles in the P. M. G.; (2) a paper with the announcement of second edition; and (3) the announcement of the essays in _Athenæum_. This to prick you in the future. Again, choose, in your head, the best volume of Labiche there is, and post it to Jules Simoneau, Monterey, Monterey Co., California: do this at once, as he is my restaurant man, a most pleasant old boy with whom I discuss the universe and play chess daily. He has been out of France for thirty-five years, and never heard of Labiche. I have eighty-three pages written of a story called a _Vendetta in the West_, and about sixty pages of the first draft of the _Amateur Emigrant_. They should each cover from 130 to 150 pages when done. That is all my literary news. Do keep me posted, won’t you? Your letter and Bob’s made the fifth and sixth I have had from Europe in three months. At times I get terribly frightened about my work, which seems to advance too slowly. I hope soon to have a greater burthen to support, and must make money a great deal quicker than I used. I may get nothing for the _Vendetta_; I may only get some forty quid for the _Emigrant_; I cannot hope to have them both done much before the end of November. O, and look here, why did you not send me the _Spectator_ which slanged me? Rogues and rascals, is that all you are worth? Yesterday I set fire to the forest, for which, had I been caught, I should have been hung out of hand to the nearest tree, Judge Lynch being an active person hereaway. You should have seen my retreat (which was entirely for strategical purposes). I ran like hell. It was a fine sight. At night I went out again to see it; it was a good fire, though I say it that should not. I had a near escape for my life with a revolver: I fired six charges, and the six bullets all remained in the barrel, which was choked from end to end, from muzzle to breach, with solid lead; it took a man three hours to drill them out. Another shot, and I’d have gone to kingdom come.