oom and
the late night; so ridiculous a picture (to my elderly wisdom) does
the fool present!"

There was no hurry then, as he now sees: and there never was cause to
hurry, I repeat. "But how is this? Is, then, the great book written?"
I am sure I don't know. Probably not: for human experience goes to
show that _The_ Great Book (like _The_ Great American Novel) never
gets written. But that _a_ great story has been written is certain
enough: and one of the curious points about this story is its title.

It is not _Catriona_; nor is it _Kidnapped_. _Kidnapped_ is a taking
title, and _Catriona_ beautiful in sound and suggestion of romance:
and _Kidnapped_ (as everyone knows) is a capital tale, though
imperfect; and _Catriona_ (as the critics began to point out, the day
after its issue) a capital tale with an awkward fissure midway in it.
"It is the fate of sequels"--thus Mr. Stevenson begins his
Dedication--"to disappoint those who have waited for them"; and it is
possible that the boys of Merry England (who, it may be remembered,
thought more of _Treasure Island_ than of _Kidnapped_) will take but
lukewarmly to _Catriona_, having had five years in which to forget its
predecessor. No: the title of the great story is _The Memoirs of David
Balfour_. Catriona has a prettier name than David, and may give it to
the last book of her lover's adventures: but the Odyssey was not
christened after Penelope.

Put _Kidnapped_ and _Catriona_ together within the same covers, with
one title-page, one dedication (here will be the severest loss) and
one table of contents, in which the chapters are numbered straight
away from I. to LX.: and--this above all things--read the tale right
through from David's setting forth from the garden gate at Essendean
to his homeward voyage, by Catriona's side, on the Low Country ship.
And having done this, be so good as to perceive how paltry are the
objections you raised against the two volumes when you took them
separately. Let me raise again one or two of them.

(1.) _Catriona_ is just two stories loosely hitched together--the one
of David's vain attempt to save James Stewart, the other of the loves
of David and Catriona: and in case the critic should be too stupid to
detect this, Mr. Stevenson has been at the pains to divide his book
into Part I. and Part II. Now this, which is a real fault in a book
called _Catriona_, is no fault at all in _The Memoirs of David
Balfour_, which by its very title cla