IN WHICH THERE ARE TWO CLAIMANTS FOR ONE DINNER
The village clock was on the stroke of one when the little procession
drew up before the door of the principal inn in the main square of a
small town on the road between Salisbury and Southampton.
Scarsdale had been surprised to find how little excitement they had
created in their progress through the countryside; but then he had
chosen the most unfrequented roads, avoiding villages as he would a
pestilence. Man and beast must be fed somewhere, however, and, according
to Tom, the elephant was giving no uncertain signs that he wanted his
dinner. So, against his better judgment, Scarsdale had turned aside into
a neighbouring town, whence, after an hour's rest and refreshment, he
determined to push on that afternoon to a quiet inn he knew of, near
Fording Bridge, and thence to Christchurch the following morning.
Both he and Mrs. Allingford had been as quiet as mice during the last
hour; indeed, the novel position in which they found themselves inclined
them rather to thought than conversation.
Their entrance into the town was effected more easily than could have
been hoped for; though, in some unknown manner, a rumour of their coming
seemed to have preceded them: for a crowd had collected along the main
street, which cheered them vociferously, under the mistaken impression
that they were the proprietors of a circus. No travelling show that
wound its course through those country lanes had ever possessed such an
attraction, and the people moved away after they had passed, full of
wonder at the appearance of this strange monster among them, and regret
that with such a beginning there was nothing more to follow.
Once they had come to a halt, they were surrounded by a curious crowd,
and Scarsdale lost no time in entering into explanations with the
landlord of the inn, who came hurrying out to receive his novel guests.
It was at this point that their troubles first began; for mine host,
while he professed to furnish entertainment for man and beast, was
dubious concerning the monster which it was proposed to quarter on him
so unexpectedly. The lady and gentleman, their coachman, horses, and
even the cockney mahout were more than welcome; but elephants were not
in his line of business. He didn't know if he could give satisfaction;
feared his accommodations were not sufficiently ample; would like to
oblige, but had the reputation of his house to maintain, &c., &c.
When Scarsdale happened, however, casually to mention that it was Lady
Melton's elephant a change came over the face of affairs, of which he
was not slow to take advantage.
Her ladyship was well known throughout the county, while her reputation
for severity had a still wider circulation, and the landlord was in
abject fear of her, though, nevertheless, obstinately determined to have
none of the beast.
The subject of all this altercation had meantime appropriated the public
horse-trough to his exclusive use for drinking and bathing purposes, and
was enjoying himself in consequence, which was more than could be said
of his rider, who shared unwillingly in his ablutions.
"Give 'im the word to sit down, sir. S'welp me, I'll be drownded with
'is tricks!" cried Tom.
"I don't speak his infernal language," returned Scarsdale testily;
"that's your business."
"I've told 'im all I know, sir, an' it's no use."
"Then I'm afraid you'll have to stay up and get wet."
"Couldn't yer 'elp me down, sir? Quit that, yer 'eathen!" as he dodged a
shower of water.
"Certainly not," replied Scarsdale. "You can't leave him riderless in a
public place."
Then, turning to the landlord, who stood by in sore perplexity,
aimlessly rubbing his hands, he continued:
"It's a beastly shame that a gentleman can't take a lady's elephant out
for--exercise without running up against all this nonsense in the first
little hamlet he comes across! One would almost think you had never seen
an elephant before."
The landlord, whose eyes had up to this time been fairly bulging with
curiosity, now declared himself desolated at such an uncalled-for
suspicion.
"Perhaps it would be better if the gentleman were to send for a
constable."
Mine host neglected to add that he had done so on his own responsibility
in his first burst of agitation.
But Scarsdale, noting the excellent effect which his rating had produced
on the landlord, determined that he should have some more of it.
"If you are afraid," he said, "of damaging your ramshackle old inn,
perhaps you'll consent to give my elephant his dinner in the square?"
Mine host rolled up his eyes at this new phase of the question.
"I suppose," continued Scarsdale, "that the dignity of this 'tuppenny
ha'penny' town won't be seriously impaired by his presence for an hour
in your elegant plaza!"
The last portion of this speech was lost on the landlord, because he did
not know what a "plaza" was; but it sounded imposing, and he hastened to
assure his guest that the town would feel honoured by the elephant's
presence, though he would have to procure a permit from the mayor.
Should he show him the way to that functionary's house?
This, however, proved to be unnecessary, as the mayor himself was
present in the crowd, a pompous, fussy little man, full of the
importance of his office. Lady Melton's name, which he had heard
mentioned in connection with the affair, acted as a charm, and brought
him bustling forward to shake Scarsdale's hand, assure him that no
permit was required, and snub the innkeeper.
"Anything I can do for a relation of her ladyship's--I think you said a
relation?" he inquired.
Scarsdale had not said anything of the kind, but unwillingly admitted
that he was her nephew. Upon receiving this intelligence the mayor
positively beamed, called Scarsdale "your lordship," and became most
solicitous after Lady Melton's health. Her nephew gravely assured him
that he might make his mind easy on that score, as his aunt was in the
best of health, and that as soon as he returned to Melton Court (a most
uncertain date, he thought grimly) he would be sure to convey to her his
kind inquiries.
His worship on this was positively effusive, declared himself devoted to
Scarsdale's interests, and insisted that he and "her ladyship,"
indicating Mrs. Allingford--another slip which his companion did not
trouble to correct--must do him the honour of dining with Mrs. Mayor
and himself.
Scarsdale was now beginning to fear that he was doing it rather too
well, and hastened to excuse "her ladyship" and himself, declaring that
they could not think of trespassing on his worship's hospitality, and
that they would be quite comfortable at the inn, if only the elephant
might be permitted to have his dinner in the square.
The mayor declared that it was just what he most desired; but would his
lordship kindly indicate of what that meal must consist?
This was a poser; but Scarsdale plunged recklessly on, for, having once
entered the broad road of deception, there was no turning back, and he
was surprised himself at the facility with which he could romance.
"That is just the trouble of taking charge of other people's pets," he
said, with shameless indifference to the demands of truth. "I'm sure I
don't know much more about the brute than you do; and as his mahout was
away when we started out, I had to take one of the grooms. What _does_
Jehoshaphat eat, Tom?"
"Hay, sir--me lud, I mean," answered Tom, falling in with the humour of
the situation.
"Oh! hay, of course," said Scarsdale.
"How much, your lordship?" queried the mayor.
"How much? Confound it! how should I know? Do you take me for an
elephant trainer?" A remark which nearly reduced his worship to chaos;
but Scarsdale, relenting, added:
"Say five or six tons--I don't know."
"But it is not easy, my lord, to procure such an amount at short
notice," expostulated the official.
"Oh, then, get him a waggon-load or two as a first course, and we'll
find something else a little later."
"It shall be procured at once. I--er--trust your lordship will not take
it amiss, since you will not dine with me, if I offer you a glass
of--shall we say champagne?"
"With pleasure," said Scarsdale.
"And her ladyship?" looking towards the carriage.
Mrs. Allingford bowed, and the mayor whispered a few words in mine
host's ear.
Just at that moment, as Scarsdale was drawing his first easy breath,
feeling at last that things were going smoothly, the very worst
_contretemps_ that could possibly happen occurred. Two dusty figures
shambled around the corner of a neighbouring street into the square, and
one of them in a high-pitched voice, that was distinctly heard by every
member of the crowd, exclaimed:
"Hi, there! What are you doing with my elephant?"
Scarsdale swung round to face the newcomers, a premonition of coming
evil strong upon him, though a careful inspection assured him that he
knew them not; yet conviction hang in every note of that challenge.
They were, in a word, the owner of elephants and the unregenerate Dick.
From early dawn they had made their way across country, in as straight
a line as possible from Winchester to Salisbury, sometimes on foot and
sometimes in such conveyances as they could hire from place to place;
but ever buoyed up by hope--hope of finding that which was lost; hope of
restoring elephants to their rightful owners; hope of clearing a
brother's name. And here, unexpectedly, they had come upon the object of
their search in the hands of total strangers.
"Who the devil are you?" cried Scarsdale hotly, scenting danger, and
determined to face the worst at once. "I don't know you."
"I'm Richard Allingford," said the larger of the two men, pushing
forward till he faced the bewildered Englishman.
At this point Scarsdale, whose coolness alone could have saved the
situation, lost his head. His temper, which had been severely tried by
the vicissitudes of the day, gave way in the presence of the man whose
escapades had caused him such needless suffering and indignity, and,
regardless of results, he spoke his mind.
"So you're Richard Allingford, are you? Then allow me to tell you that
you are the prettiest scoundrel that I've run across in a long time!
Curse you! Do you know I've spent two days, this week, in Winchester
jail on your account?"
A broad grin broke over Richard's face.
"I guess you must be Scarsdale," he said. "But what in thunder are you
doing with my brother's elephant?"
"It's mine!" arose the shrill voice of his companion. "I tell you he
stole it from me!"
This was too much for Mrs. Allingford, and, to make a bad matter worse,
she cried from the carriage:
"The Consul did not steal the elephant! It is his property, and I'm his
wife!"
A voice from the crowd chimed in:
"But 'e said it was 'er ladyship's helephant!"
The mayor's face was a study in its various shades of suspicion--anger
at being, as he very naturally supposed, duped; and certainty of the
duplicity of all concerned, as the contradictory conversation
continued. And there is no knowing how quickly he might have
precipitated the final catastrophe, if the elephant had not chosen this
opportunity for creating a diversion on his own account, which, for the
time being, distracted every one's thoughts. He had had, it will be
remembered, a very light breakfast, which only served to whet the edge
of his appetite. It therefore took him but a short time to locate the
whereabouts of a lad who, emerging from the inn with an appetising
dinner of bacon and greens arranged in a basket balanced on his head,
stood gaping on the outskirts of the crowd, unmindful of the cooling
viands. Some playful breeze must have wafted the savoury odour of
cabbage to the elephant's nostrils; for suddenly, and without previous
warning, flinging his trunk in the air with a joyous trumpet, he pounded
down the road, nearly unseating his rider, and scattering the crowd to
right and left.
"Wait for me when you get to Christchurch!" Scarsdale called to Tom as
the latter shot past him, and then joined in the rush which followed
close on the elephant's heels, the mayor and the landlord well to the
fore; while Mrs. Allingford's driver, who was only human, increased the
confusion by whipping up his horses and joining in the chase.
Ahead of the excited beast and the noisy throng which followed it,
holding on like grim death to his dinner-basket, fled the worse-scared
boy that had ever been seen in that town. Fortunately the chase was of
short duration, for the cubicle of the telegraph-clerk at the railway
station was just ahead, and offered a ready refuge. Into it flew the
lad, dinner and all, and slammed the door, just in time to escape from
the elephant's curling trunk.
The beast, despoiled of his meal, circled the building trumpeting with
rage, and finally took up a position across the rails, where he stood
guard, prepared to fall upon any one who should venture out.
All the station attendants and officials were now added to the crowd
which swarmed about the elephant, and the business of the town
practically came to a standstill.
The station-master only added to the excitement by declaring that a
train for Salisbury was due, and that the line must be cleared; while
the telegraph-clerk announced from an upper storey that wild horses, let
alone elephants, would not drag him forth from the shelter of his
office, and the blubbering of the unfortunate boy made a monotonous
accompaniment to his speech. The mayor blustered, the navvies swore, Tom
addressed floods of unintelligible jargon to the obstinate beast, and,
as a last resort, Scarsdale coaxed and wheedled him in very defective
Hindustani. But it was all useless; not an inch would the elephant
budge, and no one in all that assemblage was clever enough to think of
giving him the telegraph-clerk's dinner.
In the midst of this confusion, a shrill whistle was heard in the
distance, and some one with a clearer head than the rest cried out to
"set the signals against the train"--a suggestion which was at once
acted upon, and in a moment more the engine drew up, panting, within a
dozen feet of the elephant, who was so intent on the contents of the
cubicle that he never noticed its arrival.
As a general thing, it is the American tourist who alights from a train
on no provocation, while his English cousin is content to sit quiet, and
leave the affairs of the line in the hands of the company. In this case,
however, some subtle sense of the unusual obstacle seemed to have
communicated itself to the passengers; for no sooner had the engine
halted than heads were thrust out of every window, and the greatest
excitement prevailed.
"I don't know if Scarsdale and my wife are here," said Allingford, who,
in company with Carrington and Mrs. Scarsdale, occupied one of the
forward carriages, "but there is her ladyship's elephant!"
"You're right," cried his fair companion, taking his place at the
window. Then, as she caught sight of Scarsdale, she exclaimed "St.
Hubart!" and pushing open the door, jumped out, and fled down the line.
"By Jove! that's my wife!" exclaimed the Consul, fleeing after her, and
upsetting a porter in his haste.
From a distance Carrington saw a confused mingling of four persons, and
sighed as he caught himself wondering if he would ever be fool enough to
do that sort of thing in public.
As he slowly approached them he heard scraps of their conversation.
"By the way, Allingford," Scarsdale was saying, "I brought you back your
elephant, which it seems you were careless enough, in the hurry of
departure, to leave behind you at Melton Court. I hope you are properly
grateful."
"Oh, it isn't mine," replied the Consul; "it belongs to her Ladyship."
"Well, she said it was yours," returned her nephew.
"Ah, that was merely her excessive amiability," said Allingford.
"It had not struck me in that light before," replied Scarsdale. "Anyway,
I've brought it back to you, and a nice time I've had of it."
"Did you pilot it all the way from Melton Court?" queried the Consul.
"I did," replied the Englishman, "through the main streets of this town;
that is where my Indian training stood me in good stead; but it has
ruined my character--most of the inhabitants look on me with suspicion."
"Was your holding up of our train intentional?"
"No," said Scarsdale regretfully, "it wasn't. There are lots of damages
to pay, I assure you."
"You must settle them with Lady Melton."
"But what am I to do with the beast?"
"My dear fellow," returned the Consul, "I've been your wife's devoted
slave for the last two days, and I have restored her safe and sound to
your arms, but I really can't undertake to manage your aunt's elephants
into the bargain."
"But at least you might advise me."
"Turn him over to Cassim."
"To whom?"
"Why, to his own mahout, the little brown man who is dancing round him
now. I discovered him tearing his hair at Southampton station, where he
was left by mistake yesterday, and brought him along."
"Then for heaven's sake make him get his beast off the line!" cried
Scarsdale, dragging Allingford up to the native keeper.
"My lord desireth his mid-day meal, and the sahib of the watch-tower
hath it within," explained that functionary.
"Tell his lordship that he'll have a great deal better dinner if he will
go back to the square," said Allingford.
Just what the mahout said to the elephant will never be known, but it
proved convincing: for, with a grunt of dissatisfaction, the beast
consented to retrace his steps.
"And now that we have settled this little matter," said the Consul,
"there is nothing left for us but to express our unbounded gratitude
to--well, to the elephant for reuniting us all, and start once more on
our honeymoons; for which this train is mighty convenient."
"I have a word to say about that," cried the mayor. "I'm by no means
satisfied about the ownership of this elephant. I've been given to
understand that it belongs to Lady Melton. Is this so?"
"Yes," said the Consul and Mr. and Mrs. Scarsdale.
"No," said Mrs. Allingford, Carrington, Tom, and the original owner, in
one and the same breath.
"I say, Bob, did you steal it after all?" queried the graceless Richard.
"I took it in payment of a debt," replied his brother hotly.
"Only twenty pounds!" groaned the elephant man. "It's as good as a
steal!"
"And I gave it to Lady Melton," continued the Consul, "in payment for my
board and lodging."
"And she gave it to me," said Mrs. Allingford.
"I lost my lord at the place of docks," wailed the mahout.
"'E 'ired me to ride hit," cried Tom, indicating Scarsdale.
"And what right have you to it, sir?" blustered the mayor, turning to
that gentleman.
"I don't know," replied Scarsdale.
"I consider this most unsatisfactory," continued his worship. "I think I
may define the actions of those who have had a hand in this affair
as--ahem!--contradictory and open to question. I shall telegraph Lady
Melton, and pending her reply I must detain you all as suspicious
characters."
* * * * *
So it came to pass that the nine, gathered together in the chief parlour
of the inn, with a constable on duty, awaited for some hours a response
to the mayor's telegram. It arrived finally, embodied in the person of
Aunt Eliza, who had gone to Melton Court that morning, and was now fresh
from an interview with the mayor, which had resulted in the freedom of
all concerned.
The old lady looked the couples over through her eye-glasses, and gave
vent to an expressive "Humph!"
To her niece alone did she deign to express herself more fully, nor did
she scruple to mince her words.
"Well, Mabel," she remarked, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I
gave you a first-class recommendation only two days ago, as being well
fitted to plan and carry out a honeymoon, and look what a mess you've
made of it! Where did you come from last?"
"From Winchester," replied her niece, "where I was looking for my
husband, who had been arrested for impersonating Mr. Allingford's
brother," and she pointed to Dick, who joined the group on hearing his
name mentioned.
"What business have you to be holding a public office, with a brother
like that?" Miss Cogbill demanded sternly of the Consul; but noting his
evident discomfiture, she had the grace to add:
"You're by no means a fool, however, barring your habit of losing
things. That deed of gift you presented to Lady Melton was a clever
stroke of business, and has helped you all out of a bad hole."
"Have you seen her ladyship? What did she say?" cried the Consul.
"She said a good deal," replied Aunt Eliza. "Naturally she was pretty
mad, for the beast had done a heap of damage, but she was bound to admit
you weren't to blame for its getting loose, and, as I pointed out to
her, you had a right to pay for your board and lodging if you chose,
though, from the looks of her ramshackle old place, I thought you'd
given more than the accommodation was worth. Besides which there were
grievances and plenty on your side of the question. By her own showing
she hadn't been decently civil to you, and had turned over that monster
to your deserted and defenceless wife, and cast my nephew adrift, and
tried to send my niece home with the butler. Her ladyship saw the
justice of my remarks. She means well, but her training's against her.
When I came to the elephant, though, I struck a snag, for she gave me
to understand that she'd turned it off the place and never wanted to
hear of it again. 'Now, your ladyship,' says I, 'turning an elephant
adrift in the world isn't like casting your bread upon the waters;
you're bound to find it before many days.' And I hadn't more than got
the words out of my mouth when in came that telegram from the mayor,
saying that traffic was blocked on the railway in both directions, and
nine people arrested, all along of that beast. Her ladyship's lawyer,"
continued Aunt Eliza, indicating a gentleman of unmistakably legal
appearance who had followed her into the room, "backed me up by pointing
out that the deed of gift was good, and the elephant her property, and
that she'd be obliged to pay for any damage it might do; after which she
climbed down from her ancestral tree quick enough, and was willing to
listen to reason. So here I am, and here is the lawyer; and now, if you
please, we will attend to business."
This she proceeded to do, and in an amazingly short space of time, with
the authority of the lawyer, had settled the scruples of the mayor;
received a release of indebtedness from the Consul, who willingly
surrendered his papers, declaring that he had had "more than twenty
pounds' worth of fun out of the elephant"; and transferred the documents
to the lawyer, with instructions to sell the beast to the original
consignees at Southampton, and to remit the purchase-money to the
elephant man, less the twenty pounds for damages, which, she added,
"Just cancels his debt to the Consul, making him square on the
transaction."
The lawyer patted his hands, saying:
"Very well argued, Miss Cogbill."
"Lady Melton," said Aunt Eliza, turning to Mr. and Mrs. Scarsdale and
Mr. and Mrs. Allingford, "has authorised me to say, on her behalf, that
she overlooks and regrets the events of the last few days, and wishes
them to be forgotten. In token of which she requests you four to dine
with her, and spend the night at Melton Court; and I may add that
you'll be fools if you don't accept." After which dissent was
impossible.
"And I want to tell you," said Miss Cogbill, turning to Carrington,
"that you've managed this affair very well; and as I'm in want of a
likely young man as my business agent, if you call on me to-morrow in
town, we'll see if we can't find something more profitable for you to do
than hunting up stray honeymooners."
"Say!" interjected the graceless Richard, who was far from pleased at
the turn affairs had taken--"Say, where do I come in?"
"Young man," said Aunt Eliza, turning on him like a flash, "did you buy
a return ticket to America?"
"Yes, but----"
"Well, then," she interrupted, "you use it, the first chance you get.
And as for you," addressing the two married couples, "the sooner you
start for Melton Court the better; and don't let me hear of your being
lost again."
"Aren't you coming with us, Miss Cogbill?" asked Scarsdale.
"The lawyer and I," replied that lady, "are the only two responsible
persons in this crowd, and we'll stay right here and look after--Her
Ladyship's Elephant."
HEINEMANN'S
CHEAPER NOVELS
A LITTLE LIST OF DELIGHTFUL BOOKS TO READ BY
Sir G. Parker, M.P.
H. G. Wells
Jack London
E. F. Benson
John Galsworthy
H. de Vere Stacpoole
Philip Gibbs
Joseph Conrad
Stephen Crane
Duncan Schwann
Robert Hichens
Lloyd Osbourne
R. L. Stevenson
Richard Harding Davis
D. D. Wells
Baroness von Hutten
Frank Danby
Elizabeth Robins
Florence C. Price
Sybil Spottiswoode
Mrs. Henry Dudeney
Justin Huntly McCarthy
Eleanor Abbott
Charles Turley
Flora Annie Steel
Eleanor Mordaunt
Mrs. Hodgson Burnett
E. L. Voynich
Maxwell Gray
_On all Bookstalls and of all Booksellers_
LONDON
WILLIAM HEINEMANN
MCMXII
_HEINEMANN'S 1s NET NOVELS_
MOLLY MAKE-BELIEVE
By ELEANOR HALLOWEL ABBOTT
A New Novel
Was that boy a fool? Or did he behave a trifle imprudently in trying
circumstances? It is difficult to say till you know Molly, who is
described by the press as "one of the most lovable, fascinating and
wholly adorable little heroines whose acquaintance any man has made for
years." One thing is certain, no sooner do you make Molly's acquaintance
than you introduce her to all your friends.
THE WEAVERS
By Sir GILBERT PARKER
Author of "The Ladder of Swords," etc.
Sir Gilbert Parker is one of our finest romance writers of the present
day. This is a story of Egypt--full of rich colour, brilliant flowing
descriptions. It has the flavour of the Desert, the Nile and the
indefinable sense of immortality that belongs to the land of the
Pharaohs.
TOTO
By H. DE VERE STACPOOLE
Author of "The Blue Lagoon," etc.
Written with that _verve_ and wonderfully infectious humour which is
characteristic of this author. THE OUTLOOK says: "That rare and
delightful thing, a French novel written in English."
* * * * *
THREE BOOKS
By BARONESS VON HUTTEN
PAM
Pam is a "classic" before her time so to speak. People are compared to
"Pam"; so to their disadvantage are most girl heroines of the novels.
She is inimitable, by herself, and oh! so wholly charming!
WHAT BECAME OF PAM
"Whether we have or have not read 'Pam,' we shall certainly find 'What
became of Pam' interesting."--DAILY TELEGRAPH.
OUR LADY OF THE BEECHES
Balzac says "The dramas of life do not lie in the circumstances
surrounding--they lie in the heart.' This is a drama of the heart.
"This tender idyll ... we can only recommend our readers to buy and read
it for themselves."--DAILY MAIL.
* * * * *
THE ADVENTURER
By LLOYD OSBOURNE
"Crowded with thrilling incident the narrative races along. The book can
be recommended to all who enjoy a tale of pure adventure."--TIMES.
BACCARAT
By FRANK DANBY
Author of "Pigs in Clover," etc.
This brilliant caustic writer here gives one of her vividest pictures of
a certain clique in society. She wields no timid pen and does not
hesitate to catch them _in flagrante delicto_. Yet the book is no
"preachment" from a self-assumed pulpit, it is a novel simply.
THE COUNTRY HOUSE
By JOHN GALSWORTHY
Author of "A Man of Property," etc.
This problem of the country family, the county family, is such that it
concerns every one of us vitally. What they had to solve we have to
solve. And it is Mr. Galsworthy's strong point that he never fails to
give us a new vision, nor to hold our interest intent throughout. It is
an inspiring work.
LORD KENTWELL'S LOVE AFFAIR
By FLORENCE C. PRICE
A good story of London society and of political society. Lord Kentwell
and his sisters provide a most spirited picture, and there is besides a
background of big happenings very cleverly drawn.
THE SEA WOLF
By JACK LONDON
Author of "The Call of the Wild."
A gruesome, thrilling story of the sea. Mr. London brings always the
breath of big spaces, the tenseness of great actions and the flesh and
blood of real life, of adventures really lived, into his books. As a
story, apart from anything else, it is probably as good a book as Mr.
London has ever written.
THE NIGGER OF THE "NARCISSUS"
By JOSEPH CONRAD
Author of "Typhoon," etc.
Mr. Conrad is a writer to whom the public instinctively turn nowadays
for an exciting, closely analysed study of men. The DAILY CHRONICLE
says: "It is written by a man who knows every phase of the sea ... and
it is written by a man who can write."
THE MAGNETIC NORTH
By ELIZABETH ROBINS
Author of "Come and Find Me," etc.
A story of the ever-calling North.
"It is all so excellently written, so vividly realised, so picturesquely
put before the reader that it would be impossible not to be attracted."
--WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.
TWO NOVELS by E. F. BENSON
Author of "Sheaves," etc. etc.
THE BLOTTING BOOK
A murder story, most ingeniously worked out. Mr. Benson carries the
reader along full speed to a truly dramatic ending.
THE BABE B.A.
A very differed story from the "Blotting Book." It is a light, highly
entertaining account of Cambridge undergraduate life which already ranks
with "Verdant Green" among University classics.
TWO NOVELS
By Mrs. HENRY DUDENEY
THE MATERNITY OF HARRIET WICKEN
A picture in low tones, but of whole-hearted conviction and quiet
sympathetic appeal. Mrs. Dudeney has realised to perfection the
work-a-day world and its stories.
THE ORCHARD THIEF
A charming country tale with, in particular, one great scene of striking
dramatic force. The contrast of this author's power to charm and to
impress as she wills, is markedly shown in this capital book.
THE TIME MACHINE
By H. G. WELLS
Author of "The War of the Worlds," "Kips," etc.
You pull certain levers, having seated yourself in the saddle, and you
are conveyed either backwards or forwards. When Mr. Wells is in the
saddle it is easy to see how highly pleasurable the adventures will be.
This clever idea has given Mr. Wells opportunity for full play of his
philosophic views.
IF I WERE KING
By JUSTIN HUNTLY MCCARTHY
A mediaeval romance of love and chivalry in which the poet Francois
Villon plays the leading part. It has drama, this story, and it seizes
the imagination.
MARCIA IN GERMANY
By SYBIL SPOTTISWOODE
Author of "Hedwig in England," etc.
Marcia is a bright, pleasant English girl, who goes to stay with her
German relations. As others before she finds it difficult to grasp a
different point of view, a different civilisation. The result is
amusingly set forth by this author, whose dialogue is always good.
GODFREY MARTIN: School Boy
By CHARLES TURLEY
One of the very best of boys' books. It is one of the rarest of all rare
things--a thoroughly sensible school story. The boys are human, neither
saints nor super-sinners, and the masters for once behave in a totally
reasonable way. And that doesn't prevent it being a rattling good story.
THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE
By STEPHEN CRANE
Author of "The Open Boat," etc.
The thunders of war, the life of regiments, the soul of humanity in
stress and dangers, its qualities and shortcomings are all written on
the pages of this thrilling and absorbing book. From the first paragraph
our enthusiasm is gained and is not let go till the last.
"Simply unapproached in intimate knowledge and sustained imaginative
strength."--SAT. REVIEW.
The STREET of ADVENTURE
By PHILIP GIBBS
The "Street" is Fleet Street of course, for in what other are so many
adventures to be found. The EVENING STANDARD says: "It has the quality
of big work.... The book positively pants with life."
_HEINEMANN'S 2s NET NOVELS_
THE SHUTTLE
By MRS. HODGSON BURNETT
Author of "Little Lord Fauntleroy," "The Secret Garden," etc.
"Takes its place at once and without dispute among the greater permanent
works of fiction. Breadth and sanity of outlook, absolute mastery of
human character and life, bigness of story interest, place Mrs. Hodgson
Burnett's new book alongside the best work of George Eliot.... The
dignity and strength of a great novel such as this put to the blush all
but a very few living English storytellers."--PALL MALL GAZETTE.
"A remarkable novel, for it is written with a sincerity and glow and
power which bear the reader restlessly along the strange current of
events that the writer sets herself to describe."--STANDARD.
"Mrs. Burnett has the gift of a narrator to a high degree, and in spite
of its faults, her latest novel makes a highly readable story."--DAILY
MAIL.
"A novel of the highest rank."--DAILY GRAPHIC.
Mrs. Burnett is a past-master in drawing her own countrywomen, and Betty
is a dazzling vision of youthful charm combined with business-like
competence."--THE QUEEN.
"The story is rich and spacious; it illustrates human nature, both
British and American, in a simple and massive way, and paints both in
the primary colours."--WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.
BELLA DONNA
By ROBERT HICHENS
Author of "The Londoners," "Flames," "An Imaginative Man," etc.
This is the excellent novel on which the excellent play of the same
title is founded. It is a book full of weird, haunting scenes of passion
in the desert, full of the strange sinister fatalism of Eastern minds.
"This is one of the best novels that we have ever read, and quite the
best that Mr. Robert Hichens has written. It combines the two elements
of which every good novel ought to be composed, subtle analysis of
character and an exciting plot.... We will not spoil the reading of this
book by sketching the thrilling plot, which is enacted on the Nile and
its banks. Needless to say, the Egyptian scenery and servants are
described by Mr. Hichens with affectionate familiarity."--SATURDAY
REVIEW.
"It is admirable drama. It lives with a present life, and moves swiftly.
Some of the situations are intensely thrilling; the dialogue is firm and
easy; the whole treatment forcible without theatricalism.... Our
attention is fixed at the start, and kept to the end, on a duel between
Isaacson and Bella Donna. It is magnificent ... there can be no denying
it is a very fine novel."--THE EVENING STANDARD AND ST. JAMES'S GAZETTE.
"It is particularly interesting; its characters are drawn with
particular care and splendid skill.... 'Bella Donna' is a fine study of
a woman of passion; remorseless in its truth, fascinating in its
unmasking of the hidden springs of selfish desire."--THE GLOBE.
THE BOOK OF A BACHELOR
By DUNCAN SCHWANN
Author of "The Magic of the Hill"
Mr. Duncan Schwann has recently been acclaimed as one of the four great
humourists in England at the present time. This "Book of a Bachelor" is
delightful reading of a light kind, but it carries weight also, for Mr.
Schwann has picked out the little feeblenesses and frailty of this world
as a background to his airy frivolity.
"A picturesque romance of modern life is this story by Duncan
Schwann.... There is, indeed, a good deal of cleverness in the
book."--WESTMINSTER GAZETTE.
"... Is decidedly entertaining. Mr. Schwann is an admirable journalist
who has already given proof of his power, but he has done nothing so
good as this ... which is intelligent, humorous, and on the side of the
angels."--BRITISH WEEKLY.
"There is knowledge of the world and some mild philosophy to be found in
this pleasant romance of modern life."--GLOBE.
A SHIP OF SOLACE
By ELEANOR MORDAUNT
Author of "The Garden of Contentment"
"The Garden of Contentment," those charming letters to Mr. Nobody, has
never ceased to sell from the moment it was published. The same may be
said of "A Ship of Solace," which is filled with the breath of the sea,
and the pleasing state of mind of complete idleness. It is a book for
quiet hours, to which one can turn with pleasurable anticipation of
repose and refreshment.
"Readers who like the scent of real sea air will revel in this truly
delightful book."--DAILY TELEGRAPH.
THE GIFT OF THE GODS
By FLORA ANNIE STEEL
Author of "On the Face of the Waters," "The Potter's Thumb," "From the
Five Rivers," etc. etc.
"She has that gift, rare now among novelists, of being interested, first
of all, in the story she has to tell. She is herself so strongly
interested that her readers are carried along with her and share in her
vitality and freshness."--STANDARD.
"Mrs. Steel gives us one admirably dramatic scene,--the death of an old
woman from shock at a sudden disillusion while on her way to the
Communion Table.... The squalid and starveling lot of crofters living on
barren soil in or towards the last decade of the 19th century is well
depicted."--ATHENÆUM.
THE NOVELS OF
E. F. BENSON
Uniform Edition. Crown 8vo. With coloured
Frontispiece and Wrapper. Each vol. 2s net
* * * * *
DODO
"The readers of Mr. Benson's book will delight in this story. It is full
of interest and cleverness."--_Pall Mall Gazette._
THE VINTAGE
"We would recommend this to our readers. It has vivid characters staged
cleverly and a subtle charm which make the work thoroughly
enjoyable."--_British Weekly._
MAMMON & CO.
"Bright, witty dialogues and gay fascinating scenes. Full of humorous
sayings and witty things."--_Daily Telegraph._
THE LUCK OF THE VAILS
"This is a really thrilling and exciting tale of crime and mystery. It
is readable all through and full of entertainment."--_Times._
SCARLET AND HYSSOP
"Must be accounted a really brilliant piece of work, unsurpassed by
anything Mr Benson has given us."--_Pall Mall Gazette._
THE BOOK OF MONTHS & A REAPING
"The Bock of Months' is full of charm--real, persuasive, penetrating
charm--there rings the sincerity of real feeling and purpose."--_Daily
Chronicle._
THE CHALLONERS
"'The Challoners' must be pronounced not only the best book he has given
us but one of the best novels."--_Daily Mail._
THE ANGEL OF PAIN
"An admirably constructed story, brilliant character sketches, flashes
of good talk--a remarkably clever book."--_Guardian._
THE IMAGE OF THE SAND
"Even the sceptic must admit the grim power of the book."--_Bookman._
PAUL
"Mr. Benson at his gayest and best. Nothing could be more natural or
more amusing than most of the dialogue--full of admirable portraiture
and an abundance both of humour and humanity."--_Outlook._
SHEAVES
"Brilliant, clever, full of wise observations and sage
counsels."--_Standard._
THE CLIMBER
"His story is written with striking effect, and the author's wonderful
power of observation is to be found in almost every page."--_World._
JUGGERNAUT
"Delightful in its literary brightness and charm, it is also full of
exquisite and appealing humanity ... a fine achievement."--_Liverpool
Mercury._
ACCOUNT RENDERED
"This is an admirably written study of English modern life. Lovers of
Mr. Benson's work will be charmed with his latest novel."--_T.P.'s
Weekly._
THE OSBORNES
"As human and sincere as anything in 'Sheaves' or the 'Challoners.' A
charming story."--_Observer._
_HEINEMANN'S 7d NET NOVELS_
THE BONDMAN
By HALL CAINE
"Mr. Hall Caine has in this work placed himself beyond the front rank of
the novelists of the day. He has produced a story which is distinctly
ahead of all the fictional literature of our time, and fit to rank with
the most powerful fictional writing of the past century."--THE SCOTSMAN.
THE SCAPEGOAT
By HALL CAINE
"There are passages in 'The Scapegoat' which entitle Mr. Hall Caine to a
high place amongst contemporary writers of fiction."--DAILY CHRONICLE.
THE EBB-TIDE
By R. L. STEVENSON (In conjunction with LLOYD-OSBOURNE)
"The master storyteller is apparent to the reader of this book. It is
full of freshness, incident and character. It is a splendid
tale."--GUARDIAN.
THE CALL OF THE WILD
By JACK LONDON
"It is impossible not to recognise the skill with which Mr. London
follows out point by point the training of a sledge dog. 'The Call of
the Wild' is a very remarkable book."--DAILY TELEGRAPH.
THE WAR OF THE WORLDS
By H. G. WELLS
"Original and ingenious romance which attests strongly the variety and
fertility of Mr. Wells' imagination."--DAILY CHRONICLE.
FLAMES
By ROBERT HICHENS
"The picturesque charm of Mr. Hichens' style and his indisputable
command of the weird and mysterious will hold attention fixed from the
first chapter of this powerful story to the last."--GRAPHIC.
THE GADFLY
By E. L. VOYNICH
"It is more interesting and rich in promise than ninety-nine out of
every hundred novels that pass through the reviewer's hand."--ACADEMY.
SOLDIERS OF FORTUNE
By RICHARD HARDING DAVIS
"Mr. Davis has the dramatic gift--he carries you along with him. One
need not wish for a better story of action than this."--ACADEMY.
THE LAST SENTENCE
By MAXWELL GRAY
"Any reader who wants an absorbing story, full of cleverness and
excitement, should read this book."--DAILY NEWS.
HER LADYSHIP'S ELEPHANT
By D. D. WELLS
"It is an admirable piece of humour with not a dull page in it from
beginning to end."--ATHENÆUM.
* * * * *
London: WILLIAM HEINEMANN, 21 Bedford St., W.C.
End of Project Gutenberg's Her Ladyship's Elephant, by David Dwight Wells