“As to my reserve fund, my intention is this—calculating loosely. That between Daily (?), Clarence Street, and the Templeogue furniture, something like £250 may result, which with the £350 already in bank will make £600 (John’s £100 added). I will myself lay by £300 more to make up £1000, the interest of which will meet one of the small nuisances, and thus make a beginning—whether to end in anything more or not [? who can say], for I am most unhappily gifted in the organ of secretiveness. M’Glashan is far more eager to purchase my contingent copyright than he lets it be known. I am well aware that such has been a long time since a favourite object with him, but he’s a thorough fox, and likes to be pushed on to his own inclinations.
“I have been fearfully walked into by that firm, but for many reasons would rather bear it all now than make what the Duke calls ‘a little war.’
“If the fine weather continues—it is glorious now—we shall spend the month of October here, as by far the pleasantest spot I’ve set upon, and then return to Carlsruhe for the winter. I’ll endeavour to pick up an Irishman as a witness to the deeds and send them back at once.”
In Baden he spent a couple of pleasant months, though it is hinted that he lost heavily at the gaming-tables there. An anecdote of these Baden days is told by him. At a public dance an English lady of rank had declined many offers of partners, not deeming any of the gentlemen good enough for her. At length she was attracted by a handsome well-dressed German who spoke English fluently. He made himself so agreeable to the fine lady that she accepted his invitation to dance. She inquired who he was, and was informed that he was the Oberkellner at the Gasthaus von Rose. Under the impression that this meant that the favoured gentleman occupied a high official position, the lady danced boldly with him throughout the remainder of the night. When she consulted her dictionary next morning she was horrified to discover that “Oberkellner” was “head-waiter “!
Lever was now fit for work again, and he sketched out the plan of a new novel which he proposed to call ‘Corrig O’Neill.’ He sent this sketch to his literary counsellor, Mortimer O’Sullivan, instructing him to show it to M’Glashan. This novel was never written, but some of the material was used by the author later for ‘The Daltons.’ It was possibly his ill-luck at roulette, and a desire for quietness and retrenchment, which drove him back in October to drowsy Carlsruhe. He set earnestly to work at a new story, ‘The Knight of Gwynne.’ He forwarded the early chapters to his brother John.
To Mr Alexander Spencer.
“Stephanie Strasse, Carlsruhe, Nov. 16, 1846.
“Has John sent you—if not, get it—the opening chapter of my new tale, ‘The Knight of Gwynne’? I hope you may like it. I have a great object in view—no less than to show that the bribed men of the Irish Parliament are the very men who now are joining the Liberal ranks, and want to assist O’Connell in bringing back the Parliament they once sold, and would sell again if occasion offered. Of course, a story with love and murder is the vehicle for such a dose of ‘bitters.’
“Will you also ask John to write half a dozen lines to M. O’Sullivan, requesting him to forward to your care a MS. of mine which John sent him, and which I would beg you to keep (and read if you like) for me? It was my originally intended story before I began my ‘Knight of Gwynne.’”
To Mr Alexander Spencer.