Fiction Books

CHAPTER I The Olympic Games "Lutrell! Lutrell!" Sir Charles Hardiman stood in the corridor of his steam yacht and bawled the name through a closed door. But no answer was returned from the other side of the door. He turned the handle and went in. The night was falling, but the cabin windows looked towards the north and the room was full of light and of a low and pleasant music. For the tide... more...

CHAPTER I. IN THE MONASTERY. There were six of them besides the Prior and Abbot. The seventh was away in the village, collecting the gifts of charity. "Benedicite," began the Prior. "Here is a message from our most gracious patroness." With that he laid upon the table a sealed letter in Latin, which the others passed from hand to hand. All understood it, but it was evident that not one... more...

Chapter One It was always a matter of wonder to Vandover that he was able to recall so little of his past life. With the exception of the most recent events he could remember nothing connectedly. What he at first imagined to be the story of his life, on closer inspection turned out to be but a few disconnected incidents that his memory had preserved with the greatest capriciousness, absolutely... more...

CHAPTER I A CACTUS-PLANT     For life, with all it yields of joy and woe,    And hope and fear,…    Is just our chance o' the prize of learning love,—    How love might be, hath been indeed, and is.             BROWNING'S "A Death in the Desert." Everything about Lovey Mary was a contradiction, from her hands and feet, which seemed to have been meant... more...

CHAPTER I RAW MATERIAL Summer, intolerable summer, was upon the city at last. The families of its richest citizens had fled. Even at that early day some braved the long railroad journey to the Atlantic coast. Amongst these were our friends the Cluymes, who come not strongly into this history. Some went to the Virginia Springs. But many, like the Brinsmades and the Russells, the Tiptons and the... more...

PROLOGUE The Affair of the Man Who Vanished Mr. Maverick Narkom, Superintendent at Scotland Yard, flung aside the paper he was reading and wheeled round in his revolving desk-chair, all alert on the instant, like a terrier that scents a rat. He knew well what the coming of the footsteps toward his private office portended; his messenger was returning at last. Good! Now he would get at the facts of the... more...

The telephone rang. Reluctantly, Rod Workham picked it up. Nothing good had come from that phone in six years, and his sour expression was almost an automatic reflex. "Workham here," he said. He held the phone an inch away from his ear, but the tirade exceeded his expectations—it would have been audible a foot away: "Workham! How long do you think we're going to stand for this! At... more...

ear cut through the unconscious mind of Wilbur Hawkes. With almost physical violence, it tightened his throat and knifed at his heart. It darted into his numbed brain, screaming at him. He was a soft egg in a vast globe of elastic gelatine. Two creatures swam menacingly through the resisting globe toward him. The gelatine fought against them, but they came on. One was near, and made a mystic pass. He... more...

INTRODUCTION The title of Scottish, applied to the holy ones whose names occur in these short notices, must be understood to refer not so much to their nationality as to the field in which, they laboured or the localities where traces of their cultus are to be found. The Calendar here submitted does not pretend to be exhaustive; the saints therein noted are those who appear prominently in such records... more...

lthough there are several excellent persons of the church of England, whose good intentions and endeavours have not been wanting to propagate the gospel in foreign parts, who have even combined into societies for that very purpose, and given great encouragement, not only for English missionaries in the West-Indies, but also, for the reformed of other nations, led by their example, to propagate... more...