THE RETURN OF THE GREAT VANCE 394

XVI. FINAL ADJUSTMENT OF THE LEATHER BUSINESS 401

PRINCE OTTO

TO

_NELLY VAN DE GRIFT_

(MRS. ADULFO SANCHEZ, OF MONTEREY)

_At last, after so many years, I have the pleasure of re-introducing you
to "Prince Otto," whom you will remember a very little fellow, no
bigger, in fact, than a few sheets of memoranda written for me by your
kind hand. The sight of his name will carry you back to an old wooden
house embowered in creepers; a house that was far gone in the
respectable stages of antiquity, and seemed indissoluble from the green
garden in which it stood, and that yet was a sea-traveller in its
younger days, and had come round the Horn piecemeal in the belly of a
ship, and might have heard the seamen stamping and shouting and the note
of the boatswain's whistle. It will recall to you the nondescript
inhabitants, now so widely scattered:--the two horses, the dog, and the
four cats, some of them still looking in your face as you read these
lines;--the poor lady, so unfortunately married to an author;--the China
boy, by this time, perhaps, baiting his line by the banks of a river in
the Flowery Land;--and in particular the Scot who was then sick
apparently unto death, and whom you did so much to cheer and keep in
good behaviour._

_You may remember that he was full of ambitions and designs: so soon as
he had his health again completely, you may remember the fortune he was
to earn, the journeys he was to go upon, the delights he was to enjoy
and confer, and (among other matters) the masterpiece he was to make of
"Prince Otto"!_

_Well, we will not give in that we are finally beaten. We_ _read
together in those days the story of Braddock, and how, as he was carried
dying from the scene of his defeat, he promised himself to do better
another time: a story that will always touch a brave heart, and a dying
speech worthy of a more fortunate commander. I try to be of Braddock's
mind. I still mean to get my health again; I still purpose, by hook or
crook, this book or the next, to launch a masterpiece; and I still
intend--somehow, some time or other--to see your face and to hold your
hand._

_Meanwhile, this little paper traveller goes forth instead, crosses the
great seas and the long plains and the dark mountains, and comes at last
to your door in Monterey, charged with tender greetings. Pray you, take
him in. He co