or had departed this unobtrusive gentleman addressed me。
“Mr。 Haggard；” he said in a warning voice； “if I were you I would take the other agreement。”
Then hearing some noise； once more he became absorbed in his work； and I understood that the conversation was not to be continued。
Still a moment remained for thought。
“Why the dickens；” I reflected to myself； “did he say that to me？ He must have had some reason。” The business…like editor re…entered the room bearing the document in hand。
“I have changed my mind；” I said as he presented it to me： “I will not sell the copyright； I will take the royalty agreement。”
Undoubtedly the quiet clerk in the corner； who was acquainted with the estimate that had been formed of the book by his employers； did me a very good turn； as did my knowledge of men when I acted so promptly on his hint。
The royalty that I accepted might have been higher； at any rate after the sale of a certain number of copies； but it was infinitely better than the acceptance of a small sum down for the copyright of “King Solomon’s Mines；” of which the sale has been very great and at present shows signs of increase rather than of diminution。
Many years later this gentleman wrote reminding me of the incident and forwarding a book that he had published。
“King Solomon’s Mines；” which was produced as a five…shilling book； proved an instant success。 Published about the beginning of October； on December 9th Messrs。 Cassells wrote to me that they had already sold 5000 copies more or less； a large sale for a boys’ book by a practically unknown man。 I wonder how many copies they have sold up to Christmas 1911！ In one form and another the total must run to hundreds of thousands。
Before the book appeared we had gone down to Norfolk for part of the long vacation； not to Ditchingham； which was let； but to a farmhouse at Denton adjoining a farm of our own； where I employed my holiday in ain；” the continuation of “King Solomon’s Mines。” One day I chanced to visit the little town of Bungay and there to see a copy of the Saturday Review which contained a two…column notice of the latter work。 It was written by Lang； although this I did not know at the time。 With delight my eye fell upon such sentences as “All through the battle piece； ‘The Last Stand of the Greys；’ Mr。 Haggard； like Scott at Flodden； ‘never stoops his wing’”； and “to tell the truth we would give many novels； say eight hundred （that is about the yearly harvest）； for such a book as ‘King Solomon’s Mines。’”
By the way； things in this respect have changed since 1885。 I believe that the “yearly harvest” of British novels now numbers nearly three thousand。
I went back to the farm that night feeling sure that my book was going to succeed。 A week or so later I received a note from Lang in which he says： “The Spectator in a ‘middle’ gives you more praise than I did； and is neither known personally to you； I fancy； nor an amateur of savages； like me。 I hope they will give a review also。 。 。 。 I never read anything in the Spectator before with such pleasure。”
One day I took the manuscript of “King Solomon’s Mines” to be bound by Mr。 H。 Glaisher the bookseller。 In the carriage of the Underground Railway I perceived an old lady engaged in a close； indeed an almost ferocious study of the map printed at the beginning of the printed volume which rested on her knees。 This was too much for me。 Drawing the original map from my pocket； I placed it on my knee — we were seated opposite to each other — and began to study it with like attention。 The old lady looked up and saw。 She stared first at her map and then at mine； and stared； and stared。 Twice she opened her mouth to speak； but I suppose was too shy； nor did I； apparently absorbed in the contemplation of my map； written in blood upon a dirty piece of torn linen； the shirt…tail of Don Jose de Silvestra； give her the slightest encouragement。 The end of it was that she seemed to e to the conclusion that that railway carriage in which we were alone together was no place for her。 Suddenly； as we were about to leave a station； she sprang up and leapt from the train； at which； the unfolded map still in her hand； she gazed bewildered until it vanished into the tunnel。
Among the many letters that I received about “King Solomon’s Mines；” perhaps the most interesting that I can find are from Robert Louis Stevenson。 The first of these； undated； as they all are； is written from Skerryvore； Bournemouth； where he was living at the time。 Here I should state that to my sorrow I never met Stevenson face to face： always we just missed each other。
Dear Sir； — Some kind hand has sent me your tale of Solomon’s Mines； I know not who did this good thing to me； and so I send my gratitude to headquarters and the fountainhead。 You should be more careful； you do quite well enough to take more trouble； and some parts of your book are infinitely beneath you。 But I find there flashes of a fine weird imagination and a fine poetic use and mand of the savage way of talking： things which both thrilled me。 The reflections of your hero before the battle are singularly fine； the King’s song of victory a very noble imitation。 But how； in the name of literature； could you mistake some lines from Scott’s “Marmion” — ay； and some of the best — for the slack…sided； clerical…cob effusions of the Rev。 Ingoldsby？ Barham is very good； but Walter Scott is vastly better。 I am； dear sir；
Your obliged reader；
Robert Louis Stevenson。
Of course I answered Stevenson’s letter — by the way； I have not the least idea who sent him the book — thanking him and pointing out that he had overlooked the fact that Allan Quatermain’s habit of attributing sundry quotations to the Old Testament and the Ingoldsby Legends； the only books with which he was familiar； was a literary joke。
Stevenson wrote back； again in an undated letter from Bournemouth and on a piece of manuscript paper：
Dear Mr。 Haggard； — Well； yes； I have sinned against you； that was the part of a bad reader。 But it inclines me the more to explain my dark saying。 As thus：
You rise in the course of your book to pages of eloquence and poetry； and it is quite true that you must rise from something lower； and that the beginning must infallibly （？） be pitched low and kept quiet。 But you began （pardon me the word） slipshod。 If you are to rise； you must prepare the mind in the quiet parts； with at least an acplished neatness。 To this you could easily attain。 In other words； what you have still to learn is to take trouble with those parts which do not excite you。
Excuse the tone of a damned schoolmaster； and believe me；
Yours truly；
Robert Louis Stevenson。
The next letter； also from Skerryvore； Bournemouth； which； because of its allusions to “King Solomon’s Mines；” although undated； must have been written at this time； is an enigma to me。 I have not the faintest idea to what it refers。
Dear Mr。 Haggard； — Is it not possible to make a gratuitous donation inter vivos？ Could not that be done in a separate instrument？ I know not if it matters； but if there were any ready way of gaining the point； I might adopt it。 My law is all to the wind； and indeed I never knew