Fiction Books

Chapter I “The Stowmarket Mystery”   “Mr. David Hume.” Reginald Brett, barrister-detective, twisted round in his easy-chair to permit the light to fall clearly on the card handed to him by his man-servant. “What does Mr. David Hume look like, Smith?” he asked. “A gentleman, sir.” Well-trained servants never make a mistake when they give such a description of a visitor. Brett was... more...

"The Cingalese declare that the Queen of the Dhahs is a Sahibmem," said Hassan—meaning by this expression an Englishwoman. "I don't think that can be true," responded Denviers; "it is hardly possible that any civilized human being would care to reign over such a queer race as those just described appear to be——" "The Englishman is wrong in what he says,"... more...

By Leonard Outram. "I will have you! I will have you! I will! I will! I will!!" I can see his dark face now as he spoke those words. I remember noticing how pale his lips were as he hissed out through his clenched teeth: "Though I had to fight with a hundred men for you—though I had to do murder for your sake, you should be mine. In spite of your love for him, in spite of your hate for... more...

From the French. I. King Phillip II. was playing at chess in the Escurial Palace. His opponent was Ruy Lopez, a humble priest, but a chess player of great skill. Being the King's particular favourite, the great player was permitted to kneel upon a brocaded cushion, whilst the courtiers grouped about the King were forced to remain standing in constrained and painful attitudes. It was a magnificent... more...

The Prince of Wales at Sandringham. [The Prince of Wales is, of course, precluded by his position from granting interviews like private persons, but His Royal Highness has been so good as to give us special permission to insert the following extremely interesting article, which we are happy to be able to present to our readers in place of the Illustrated Interview for the present month. The next of the... more...

Barbara Thorne sat leaning her head on her hand, looking at a photograph that lay on the table beneath her eyes. She had not intended to look for that when she pulled out a dusty drawer full of old letters, papers, and account-books to arrange and set in order. But when in the course of her rummaging and tidying she found that picture in her hand, she paused in her task. The neglected drawer stood... more...

I once knew two industrious mechanics named Pierre and Baptiste. They dwelt in a ramshackle tenement at Sault aux Belœuil, where each had half-a-dozen children to support, besides their wives; who, it is grievous to relate, were drones. They were only nominally acquainted with that godly art commonly associated with charwomen. Pierre and Baptiste were hard workers. They worked far into the night and,... more...

Stories from the Diary of a Doctor. By the Authors of "THE MEDICINE LADY." VII.—THE HORROR OF STUDLEY GRANGE. "THE HORROR OF STUDLEY GRANGE." I was in my consulting-room one morning, and had just said good-bye to the last of my patients, when my servant came in and told me that a lady had called who pressed very earnestly for an interview with me. "I told her that you... more...

CHAPTER THE FIRST. I SEE MUCH OF THE INSIDE OF THE WORLD, AND THEN GO RIGHT ROUND IT. 1748. I was not yet Forty years of age, Hale and Stout, Comely enough,—so said Mistress Prue and many other damsels,—with a Military Education, an approved reputation for Valour, and very little else besides. A gentleman at large, with a purse well-nigh as slender as an ell-wand, and as wobegone as a dried... more...

PREFACE.Inthe last century—and many centuries before the last; but it is about the eighteenth that I am specially speaking—long before steamers and railways, or even frigate-built ships and flying coaches were dreamt of, when an Englishman went abroad, he stopped there. When he came back, if at all, it was, as a rule, grizzled and sunburnt, his native habits all unlearnt, and his native tongue more... more...