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 I should embrace. This interview with my living hero of heroes was as unexpected as it was delightful to me. I stood by, smiling and flushing, feeling uncomfortable, yet honoured and pleased. Being an enthusiastic peruser of the Captain's exciting books (the interest of which, to me, was enhanced by the fact that the scenes and occurrences recounted with such fascinating and graphic power were as much part of the Captain's life as David Copperfield was of Charles Dickens), I regarded Captain Reid with admiration and intensity, and subsequently made notes of my impressions of his appearance, conversation, and characteristics, which have been preserved to this day.

Captain Reid, who was then about forty-four, was of slight build, ordinary height, and military bearing.

He was attired in a black frock coat, worn open, a light yellow waistcoat, light yellow gloves, light yellow scarf, and light yellow trousers, it being the sunny month of June. A Mexican-looking face of yellowish complexion, a black moustache, and an aspect of determination that indicated a life of exposure, feats performed, and hardships undergone, complete the portrait. Enthusiastic in manner, fervid in speech, romantic in phraseology, his utterances sounded like extracts from his own novels. A handsome man, the nobility of whose nature was apparent, he appeared the living embodiment of one of his own heroes of romance.

I well remember, as the Captain was leaving, his remark in reference to a wish to join Garibaldi. "But for that (naming the circumstance that prevented him) I would once more unsheath my sword upon the tented field," with which dramatic deliverance he departed.

In the course of a few days I forwarded, in compliance with the wish mentioned, a copy of The Morning Star letter to Captain Reid, at the same time expressing the hope that he would find in the good intention respecting himself some excuse for the imperfections inherent to youthful composition, as the faulty and boyishly-written epistle had not the advantage of revision by another, no one being aware of it.

In due time I received, with inexpressible satisfaction, the following acknowledgment from the great novelist, whose reputation was then at its zenith:—

{{quote|{{right|The Rancho,{{gap|10em}} Gerrard's Cross, Bucks,{{gap|2em}} July 1, 1862.}} {{sc|My Dear Young Friend}},—You quite underrate yourself in calling your letter to The Star either faulty or boyishly-written. It is, in reality, a very clever communication, and most truthfully expresses every point in the question, and cannot have failed to convince those who read it of the correctness of your views.

I owe you a thousand thanks for your chivalric defence, which please accept, and believe me,

{{right|Yours very sincerely,{{gap|2em}} {{sc|Mayne Reid.}} }}

"The Rancho," which, in memory of earlier days, the Captain had named his country home, recalled to mind the abodes of the dark-eyed señoritas who were the heroines of his romances. Mrs. Reid writes of his house as being called "The Hacienda," in her recent memoir of her husband. Mr. Charles Ollivant, who was Captain Reid's secretary, wrote to the papers that the Captain's home was known as "The Rancho," which is the Mexican equivalent for a small house, whereas "Hacienda" meant a large house or mansion. The veteran journalist, Mr. George Augustus Sala, joining in the controversy, contended that "Hacienda" meant a large estate or homestead, and that a very big "Hacienda" may only have a small house upon it. Whatever may be the correct meaning of the words in question, all the letters I received from Captain Reid, spreading over several years, were dated in his own characteristic and picturesque writing from "The Rancho."

The true explanation, however, is that the Captain's first home was called "The Rancho," afterwards altered to "The Ranche." The large flat roofed house of Mexican architecture, with an artificial pond in front, subsequently built under the Captain's superintendence, was always known as "The Hacienda," as Mrs. Reid rightly names it.

Three months after the receipt of the preceding letter, I wrote a notice of Captain Reid's then new novel, "The Maroon." The little review appeared in The Newcastle Chronicle. It having been quoted in The Canadian Illustrated News, was encouragement to write a short sketch of the Captain's adventurous life for the same newspaper. On publication, both the re-