ritten adds to its effect. We cross a
track of horror in it by the ray of a generous light. It is by this book
I like to think that du Maurier will be remembered as a writer. It was
characteristic of him that he could touch a theme that in all
superficial aspects was sordid without the loss of the bloom of true
romance. The real plot of this story, however, does not lie with
incident, but with the maintenance of an elevated frame of mind in
defiance of circumstances. The author realises that mind triumphs always
more easily over matter than over "circumstances." To the damage of the
plot he brings his hero the utmost psychic assistance from an
inadmissible source, but the picture of the prisoner's soul prevailing
in the face of complete temporal disaster is still a true one.

Du Maurier's publishers believed in _Trilby_ from the very first. They
began by offering double the _Peter Ibbetson_ terms, while generously
urging him to retain his rights in the book by accepting a little less
in a lump sum and receiving a royalty. But so little faith did he pin to
_Trilby_ that he said "No!"

Within a few weeks the "boom" began. And when Harpers' saw what
proportions it was likely to assume, they voluntarily destroyed the
agreement, and arranged to allow him a handsome royalty on every copy
sold. An admirer of Byron, du Maurier repudiated as cruelly unfair the
poet's line, "Now Barabbas was a publisher." The publisher also handed
over to him the dramatic rights with which he had parted for a small sum
like fifty pounds, and thus he became a partner in the dramatic property
called _Trilby_ as a "play."

[Illustration]

Section 2

_Trilby_ was a name that had long lain _perdu_ somewhere "at the back of
du Maurier's head." He traced it to a story by Charles Nodier, in which
Trilby was a man. The name Trilby also appears in a poem by Alfred de
Musset. And to this name, and to the story of a woman which was once
told to him, du Maurier's _Trilby_ owed her birth. "From the moment the
name occurred to me," he said, "I was struck with its value. I at once
realised that it was a name of great importance. I think I must have
felt as happy as Thackeray did when the title of _Vanity Fair_ suggested
itself to him."

_Trilby_ is written with a daintiness that corresponds with the neatness
of its illustrations. It has the attractiveness which du Maurier had
such skill in giving. But though dealing with Bohemia, the author is
conventi