greatest service, but I fear that the value of what she said was not as
fully appreciated as was the pleasure of seeing and hearing her say it.

Thus joyously passed the hours of work, and in the hours when I was not
working I looked forward with glad anticipation to the next forenoon;
but after a time I began to be somewhat oppressed by the fear that my
work would come to an end before long for want of material. I was
already nearing the southern limit of my travels, and my return
northward had not been productive of the sort of subject-matter I
desired. In my recitals to Walkirk I had gone much more into detail
regarding my experiences, and had talked about a great many things which
it had been pleasant to talk about, but which I did not consider good
enough to put into my book. In dictating to my nun I had carefully
sifted the mass to which Walkirk had listened, and had used only such
matter as I thought would interest her and the general reader. My high
regard for the intelligence of my secretary and her powers of
appreciation had led me to discard too much, and therefore there was
danger that my supply of subject-matter would give out before my nun
grew to be an elderly woman; and this I did not desire.

I had read and heard enough of the travels of others to be able to
continue my descriptions of foreign countries for an indefinite period;
but I had determined, from the first, that nothing should go into my
book except my own actual experiences, and therefore I could not rely
upon other books for the benefit of mine. But, in considering the
matter, I concluded that, if my material should be entirely my own, it
would answer my purpose to make that material what I pleased; and thus
it happened that I determined to weave a story into my narrative. This
plan, I assured myself, would be in perfect harmony with the design of
my work. The characters could be drawn from the people whom I had met in
my travels. The scenes could be those which I had visited, and the plot
and tone of the story could be made to aid the reader in understanding
the nature of the country and the people of which it was told. More than
all, I could make the story as long as I pleased.

This was a capital idea, and I began immediately to work upon it. I
managed the story very deftly; at least that was my opinion. My two
principal characters made their appearance in Sicily, and at first were
so intermingled with scenery and incidents as not to be