Under the Wide and Starry Sky

CHAPTER 54

Saranac, New York February 1888
My dear Fanny Sitwell,


I am thinking of the Robert Burns line that Louis is so fond of quoting:  The best-laid schemes of mice and men so often go askew. Our lives are living proof of it, as they have been for some time. When last I wrote, we were on a ship with a load of apes destined for American zoos. We are now settled for the winter not in Colorado, as planned, but an outpost in upper New York, near the Canadian border. Louis caught a cold at the end of our journey and a doctor warned him against a train trip across America. So we decided to stay in Saranac and to take a cottage—a hunting cabin, they call it here—in a colony for tuberculosis patients that is similar to the one in Davos. Except that it is much colder here. Temperatures are well below zero, and the morning trip to the privy behind the house is painful indeed.
Louis thrives in this place. He  is even fattening  up  on mare’s milk, which was prescribed by the  doctor. Mrs. Stevenson is stoic in these daunting circumstances, as is Lloyd. I am the least charmed by this punishing cold, and curse my puckered  scalp  every morning.  I  recently went  to  Montreal—took  Valentine  with  me  to  translate—and  we returned with five enormous buffalo coats, which have improved everyone’s mood.

Louis has begun a new novel that he is calling The Master of Ballantrae, a story about the 1745 Scottish uprising, with which he is obsessed. As it turns out, Louis is an enormous sensation over here, and in New York the press won’t leave him alone. One publishing fellow named McClure offered Louis $10,000 a year to write a weekly column for one of his newspapers, The New York World. Louis was appalled and told him the amount was too much. He took another o?er instead that better suits his temperament: For $3,500 he will write a year’s worth of articles for Scribner’s about whatever he fancies. But McClure, who resists taking no for an answer, will serialize The Black Arrow over here.
I cannot describe well enough the profound change in Louis’s health while he was on board that ship. We all understand now that sea air is the best medicine, even more than cold air in a high altitude. We have entertained many possible destinations, including Japan, but lately the talk is of a cruise in the South Seas. Mrs. Stevenson is enthusiastic and has o?ered to underwrite a monthlong voyage. One day when Louis and Lloyd were poring over a map of the islands, we had another visit from Mr. McClure, who is a persistent fellow. When he got wind of a possible voyage among the Gilbert Islands, he made an o?er to Louis on the spot. He said he would pay him a handsome sum to write a series of letters for his newspaper syndicate (the New York Sun and others) about his travels among the islands in that area of the world. Now we are all a?utter with the idea of a cruise. I am heading o? to San Francisco via Indianapolis (for a visit with my family). I will look into possibly hiring a boat of some sort when I get to California.
One other bit of good news:  The March issue of Scribner’s will contain not only a story by Louis but also my story, “The Nixie.” My third published piece!

I carry you with me in my heart, Fanny Sitwell. The steadiness of your friendship warms me in this cold place. As I know more, I will keep you apprised. Please give our love to Sidney, and to Henry James, whose champagne saved me.

Fondly, Fanny