to have been
"a supernatural element," better, probably, than the device of the
AEolian harps hung in the thicket. "I have got the smell and the look of
the thing a good deal," he said, and he had got the style of his rough
English narrator, who was, as he told the missionary, "what you call a
sinner, what I call a sweep," but repented in time.

A period of many projects followed; one, "The Young Chevalier," had a
germ in "The Letter of Henry Goring" (1749-1750), with which I brought
him acquainted, not knowing then that it was merely a romance by the
prolific Eliza Heywood. It was in this tale that the Master of
Ballantrae was to come to the rescue, and I think that a Scottish
assassin (who lurks obscure in real history) and Mandrin, the famed
French robber, were to appear, but only a chapter is published among
other fragments. As it stands, Prince Charles's eyes are alternately
blue and brown; brown was their actual colour--they were like
Stevenson's own.

Fortunately, the "Chevalier" was deserted for the continuation of
"Kidnapped," a sequel which is as good as, or, thanks to the two
heroines, Catriona and Barbara Grant, is even better than, the original.
To think of it is to wish to take it from the shelf and read it again.
It is all excellent, from the scenes where Alan is hiding under a
haystack (suggested by an adventure of the Chevalier Johnstone after
Culloden), and the first meeting with that good daughter of Clan Alpine
and of James Mor, onwards.

Stevenson excited a good deal of odium among fiery Celts by his
scoundrel Master of Lovat. There is no reason, as far as I am aware, to
suppose that Simon was a scoundrel, but, as a figure in fiction, he is
very firmly drawn. The abortive duel of Balfour with the Highland
Ensign, who conceives high esteem of "Palfour," is in the author's best
manner, as are the days of prison in that "unco place, the Bass," and he
was justly proud of the wizard tale of Tod Lapraik. The bristling
demeanour of Alan Breck and James Mor (a very gallant but distinctly
unfortunate son of Rob Roy), seems a correct picture. Indeed, James Mor
was correctly divined, probably from letters of his published in Scott's
"Rob Roy." It does not appear that Stevenson ever saw a number of
James's letters in the character of a spy (a spy who appears to be
carefully bamboozling his employers), which exist in the Newcastle MSS.
in the British Museum. But the James of these letters is the James of
"Ca