War & Military Books

CHAPTER I THE MAN AND THE HOUR The Secretary of State, although he sought to maintain an air of official reserve, showed that he was deeply impressed by what he had just heard. "Well, young man, you are certainly offering to undertake a pretty large contract." He smiled, and continued in a slightly rhetorical vein—the Secretary was above all things first, last, and always an orator. "In... more...

THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY. This story was written in the summer of 1863, as a contribution, however humble, towards the formation of a just and true national sentiment, or sentiment of love to the nation. It was at the time when Mr. Vallandigham had been sent across the border. It was my wish, indeed, that the story might be printed before the autumn elections of that year,—as my "testimony"... more...

CHAPTER I A great multitude of people filled the church, crowded together in the old black pews, standing closely thronged in the nave and aisles, pressing shoulder to shoulder even in the two chapels on the right and left of the apse, a vast gathering of pale men and women whose eyes were sad and in whose faces was written the history of their nation. The mighty shafts and pilasters of the Gothic... more...

IN THE DEPTHS OF OLD FRANCE "Drink, Monsieur Angelot," said the farmer. His wife had brought a bottle of the sparkling white wine of the country, and two tall old treasures of cut glass. The wine slipped out in a merry foam. Angelot lifted his glass with a smile and bow to the mistress. "The best wine in the country," he said as he set it down. The hard lines of her face, so dark, so... more...

CHAPTER I Let a man, an arrow, and an answer each go straight. Each is his own witness. God is judge.—EASTERN PROVERB. A Sikh who must have stood about six feet without his turban—and only imagination knows how stately he was with it—loomed out of the violet mist of an Indian morning and scrutinized me with calm brown eyes. His khaki uniform, like two of the medal ribbons on his breast, was new,... more...

CHAPTER I. IN THE AIR. "And how do you feel now, Mr. Stubbs?" Hal Paine took his eyes from the distance ahead long enough to gaze toward that part of the military aeroplane in which three other figures were seated. It might rather be said, however, that two of the others were seated, for the third figure was huddled up in a little ball, now and then emitting feeble sounds. In response to... more...

My Dear Lads, The present story was written and published a few months, only, after the termination of the Franco-German war. At that time the plan--which I have since carried out in The Young Buglers, Cornet of Horse, and In Times of Peril, and which I hope to continue, in further volumes--of giving, under the guise of historical tales, full and accurate accounts of all the leading events of great... more...

CHAPTER I WEIGHING ANCHOR FOR THE GREAT CRUISE "It sounds like the greatest cruise ever!" declared Danny Grin, enthusiastically, as he rose and began to pace the narrow limits of the chart-room of the destroyer commanded by his chum, Lieutenant-Commander Dave Darrin. "It is undoubtedly the most dangerous work we've ever undertaken," Darrin observed thoughtfully. "All the... more...

I They turned again at the end of the platform. The tail of her long, averted stare was conscious of him, of his big, tweed-suited body and its behaviour, squaring and swelling and tightening in its dignity, of its heavy swing to her shoulder as they turned. She could stave off the worst by not looking at him, by looking at other things, impersonal, innocent things; the bright, yellow, sharp gabled... more...

An Old Sea-Lion. “Hullo, Dad!” I cried out, stopping abruptly in front of the red granite coloured Reform Club, down the marble steps of which a queer-looking old gentleman was slowly descending. “Who is that funny old fellow there? He’s just like that ‘old clo’’ man we saw at the corner of the street this morning, only that he hasn’t got three hats on, one on top of another, the same... more...