I got your letter on my birthday; indeed, that was how I found it out about three in the afternoon, when postie comes. Thank you for all you said. As for my wife, that was the best investment ever made by man; but "in our branch of the family" we seem to marry well. I, considering my piles of work, am wonderfully well; I have not been so busy for I know not how long. I hope you will send me the money I asked however, as I am not only penniless, but shall remain so in all human probability for some considerable time. I have got in the mass of my expectations; and the L100 which is to float us on the new year cannot come due till _Silverado_ is all ready; I am delaying it myself for the moment; then will follow the binders and the travellers and an infinity of other nuisances; and only at the last, the jingling-tingling. Do you know that _Treasure Island_ has appeared? In the November number of Henley's Magazine, a capital number anyway, there is a funny publisher's puff of it for your book; also a bad article by me. Lang dotes on _Treasure Island_: "Except _Tom Sawyer_ and the _Odyssey_," he writes, "I never liked any romance so much." I will inclose the letter though. The Bogue is angelic, although very dirty. It has rained--at last! It was jolly cold when the rain came. I was overjoyed to hear such good news of my father. Let him go on at that!--Ever your affectionate, R. L. S. TO SIDNEY COLVIN Of the "small ships" here mentioned, _Fontainebleau_ and _The Character of Dogs_ are well known: _A Misadventure in France_ is probably a draft of the _Epilogue to an Inland Voyage_, not published till five years later. The _Travelling Companion_ (of which I remember little except that its scene was partly laid in North Italy and that a publisher to whom it was shown declared it a work of genius but indecent) was abandoned some two years later, as set forth on p. 193 of this volume. _La Solitude, Hyeres [November 1883]._ L10,000 Pounds Reward! WHEREAS Sidney Colvin, more generally known as the Guardian Angel, has vanished from the gaze of Mr. R. L. Stevenson, the above reward is offered as a means to discover the whereabouts of the misguided gentleman. He was known as a man of irregular habits, and his rowdy exterior would readily attract attention in a crowd. He was never known to resist a drink; whisky was his favourite dish. If any one will bring him to Mr. Stevenson's back area door, dead or alive, the greatest rejoicing will be felt by a bereaved and uneasy family.