All such things I read with rejoicing. You were shaping yourself for
    a wider and loftier adventure, which would crown more worthily your
    matured manhood. When I read of you in a description of Mihask, in
    Madagascar, and the devil-worship there rarely held, I felt I had
    only to wait for your home-coming in order to broach the enterprise I
    had so long contemplated. This was what I read:

    "He is a man to whom no adventure is too wild or too daring. His
    reckless bravery is a byword amongst many savage peoples and amongst
    many others not savages, whose fears are not of material things, but
    of the world of mysteries in and beyond the grave. He dares not only
    wild animals and savage men; but has tackled African magic and Indian
    mysticism. The Psychical Research Society has long exploited his
    deeds of valiance, and looked upon him as perhaps their most trusted
    agent or source of discovery. He is in the very prime of life, of
    almost giant stature and strength, trained to the use of all arms of
    all countries, inured to every kind of hardship, subtle-minded and
    resourceful, understanding human nature from its elemental form up. To say that he is fearless would be inadequate. In a word, he is a
    man whose strength and daring fit him for any enterprise of any kind. He would dare and do anything in the world or out of it, on the earth
    or under it, in the sea or--in the air, fearing nothing material or
    unseen, not man or ghost, nor God nor Devil." If you ever care to think of it, I carried that cutting in my
    pocket-book from that hour I read it till now. Remember, again, I say, that I never interfered in the slightest way
    in any of your adventures. I wanted you to "dree your own weird," as
    the Scotch say; and I wanted to know of it--that was all. Now, as I
    hold you fully equipped for greater enterprise, I want to set your
    feet on the road and to provide you with the most potent
    weapon--beyond personal qualities--for the winning of great honour--a
    gain, my dear nephew, which, I am right sure, does and will appeal to
    you as it has ever done to me. I have worked for it for more than
    fifty years; but now that the time has come when the torch is
    slipping from my old hands, I look to you, my dearest kinsman, to
    lift it and carry it on. The little nation of the Blue Mountains has from the first appealed
    to me. It is poor and proud and brave. Its people are well worth
    winning, and I would advise you to throw in your lot with them. You
    may find them hard to win, for when peoples, like individuals, are
    poor and proud, these qualities are apt to react on each other to an
    endless degree. These men are untamable, and no one can ever succeed
    with them unless he is with them in all-in-all, and is a leader
    recognized. But if you can win them they are loyal to death. If you
    are ambitious--and I know you are--there may be a field for you in
    such a country. With your qualifications, fortified by the fortune
    which I am happy enough to be able to leave you, you may dare much
    and go far. Should I be alive when you return from your exploration
    in Northern South America, I may have the happiness of helping you to
    this or any other ambition, and I shall deem it a privilege to share
    it with you; but time is going on. I am in my seventy-second year . . . the years of man are three-score and ten--I suppose you
    understand; I do . . . Let me point out this: For ambitious projects
    the great nationalities are impossible to a stranger--and in our own
    we are limited by loyalty (and common-sense). It is only in a small
    nation that great ambitions can be achieved. If you share my own
    views and wishes, the Blue Mountains is your ground. I hoped at one
    time that I might yet become a Voivode--even a great one. But age
    has dulled my personal ambitions as it has cramped my powers. I no
    longer dream of such honour for myself, though I do look on it as a
    possibility for you if you care for it. Through my Will you will
    have a great position and a great estate, and though you may have to
    yield up the latter in accordance with my wish, as already expressed
    in this letter, the very doing so will give you an even greater hold
    than this possession in the hearts of the mountaineers, should they
    ever come to know it. Should it be that at the time you inherit from
    me the Voivode Vissarion should not be alive, it may serve or aid you
    to know that in such case you would be absolved from any conditions
    of mine, though I trust you would in that, as in all other matters,
    hold obligation enforced by your own honour as to my wishes. Therefore the matter stands thus: If Vissarion lives, you will
    relinquish the estates. Should such not be the case, you will act as
    you believe that I would wish you to. In either case the
    mountaineers should not know from you in any way of the secret
    contracts between Vissarion and myself. Enlightenment of the many
    should (if ever) come from others than yourself. And unless such
    take place, you would leave the estates without any _quid pro quo_
    whatever. This you need not mind, for the fortune you will inherit
    will leave you free and able to purchase other estates in the Blue
    Mountains or elsewhere that you may select in the world. If others attack, attack them, and quicker and harder than they can,
    if such be a possibility. Should it ever be that you inherit the
    Castle of Vissarion on the Spear of Ivan, remember that I had it
    secretly fortified and armed against attack. There are not only
    massive grilles, but doors of chilled bronze where such be needed. My adherent Rooke, who has faithfully served me for nearly forty
    years, and has gone on my behalf on many perilous expeditions, will,
    I trust, serve you in the same way. Treat him well for my sake, if
    not for your own. I have left him provision for a life of ease; but
    he would rather take a part in dangerous enterprises. He is silent
    as the grave and as bold as a lion. He knows every detail of the
    fortification and of the secret means of defence. A word in your
    ear--he was once a pirate. He was then in his extreme youth, and
    long since changed his ways in this respect; but from this fact you
    can understand his nature. You will find him useful should occasion
    ever arise. Should you accept the conditions of my letter, you are
    to make the Blue Mountains--in part, at least--your home, living
    there a part of the year, if only for a week, as in England men of
    many estates share the time amongst them. To this you are not bound,
    and no one shall have power to compel you or interfere with you. I
    only express a hope.