“The post which brought your letter conveyed also one from M’Glashan in a very angry tone, half implying that my new book was withdrawing my interest in ‘Lorrequer,’ and evidently savage that I was getting at the London market. I answered sharply to each section of the epistle, expressed my sorrow for offering him what suited Bentley to take, and assured him that my credit as author, _tant peu qu’il sait_, was quite as dear to me as his pence as bookseller could ever be to him. Result a most handsome and apologetic letter from him ascribing his petulance to ill health, and accepting my new book at £50 per No.--the whole to run to 12 to 20 Nos.--i.e., £600 to £1000. Not bad after all, and better than more solid productions, which pay little and are read less.
“Will you then see M’G., to whom I have written accepting his money for ‘The Dragoon,’ and add, what I have not, that I was, on the arrival of his letter, actually concluding one to Bentley in acceptance of his offer for the MS., but that as _gage d’amitie_ between us, I have stood by him and rejected the illustrious Dick. This from you will conclude the pacific relations so eminently necessary between the fiery and tiger natures of author and publisher, whose business is not ‘to die,’ but to squabble everlastingly.
“The lost MS. of ‘Lorrequer’ is, it seems, come to hand, but not before I rewrote or rather wrote another finale. This cost me four sleepless nights and a fit of gout from chagrin and champagne, necessary to bring me up to the scribbling paroxysm.
“What my new book is to run upon I have not as yet the least notion, but trust to chance and after dinner--for invention; and last, not least, to the moneyed stimulus--for material....
“I have been exceedingly gay--dining at the Embassy and elsewhere, and thinking of everything save book-making. However, as I have not ten pounds in the house, and owe about a hundred, I must haul my wind and bear up in time.
“On second thoughts it will be right for M’Glashan not to advertise ‘The Dragoon’ by title in the last number of ‘Lorrequer,’--only ‘a new work by Harry Lorrequer.’ This, as regards my previous negotiations with Bentley, is necessary.”
“I wish with all my heart that we (meaning John* among the number) could eat our plum-pudding together. If that day ever arrives, God knows. It is strange enough how few--very few--early friends can be found within the ring-fence of a Xmas fire when the pursuits of after-life have laid hold on them. We three are a striking instance of it....