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From a derelict shed adjoining a lonely road which stretched for miles across the Norfolk fens, a strange shape slid silently into the night mist. It was a motor-car of an unfamiliar design. The body, of gleaming aluminium, was of unusual width, and was lifted high above the delicate chassis and spidery bicycle wheels that seemed almost too fragile to bear the weight of an engine.

Some year and a half ago, my friend and erstwhile neighbour. Dr. Archibald More d’Escombe, died suddenly, and shortly after his decease I received from his solicitors a sealed packet addressed to me in his handwriting, with instructions that it was not to be opened until after his death.

These strange facts would never have been placed on record, nor would this exciting chapter of an eventful life have been written, except for two reasons: first, because the discovery I made has been declared to be of considerable importance to scientists, bibliophiles, and the world at large; and, secondly, because it is my dear wife’s wish that in order to clear her in the eyes of both friends and foes nothing should be concealed, misrepresented, or withheld.

On this particular morning, about ten o’clock, the seafront was already full of men in flannels and lounge-suits, and women in garments of muslin and other such flimsy materials usually affected at the seaside, for stifled and jaded Londoners had flocked down there, as usual, to enjoy the sea air and all the varied attractions which Southport never fails to offer.

A grey, sunless morning on the Firth of Tay. Across a wide, sandy waste stretching away to the misty sea at Budden, four men were walking. Two wore uniform–one an alert, grey-haired general, sharp and brusque in manner, with many war ribbons across his tunic; the other a tall, thin-faced staff captain, who wore the tartan of the Gordon Highlanders. With them were two civilians, both in rough shooting-jackets and breeches, one about forty-five, the other a few years his juni...

Though it was a gay comic opera that was being performed for the first time, entertainers and entertained lost all interest in each other. They were amazed, dismayed, awestricken. Amusement was nauseating; War, with all its attendant horrors, was actually upon them! The popular tenor, one of the idols of the hour, blundered over his lines and sang terribly out of tune, but the hypercritical first-night audience passed the defect unnoticed. They only thought of what might ha...

Michael Berrington is a bachelor leading a quiet life in London. Overhearing a conversation at his club one day, he becomes interested in a discussion regarding a man named Gastrell. Gastrell is somewhat of a mystery to the club members in spite of his renting a house from one of them. Berrington’s interest in Gastrell intensifies as his fiancé, Dulcie Challoner, befriends a wealthy widow, Mrs. Connie Stapleton who evidently has some type of relationship with Gastrell. As t...

Thrice hath the Fast of Ramadan come and gone since the Granter of Requests last allowed my eyes to behold the well-remembered landscape, scarcely visible in the pale light of dawn. Hills, covered with tall feathery palms, rose abruptly from the barren, sun-scorched plain, and, at their foot, stood the dazzlingly-white city of Omdurman, the impregnable and mysterious headquarters of Mahdiism, while beyond, like a silver ribbon winding through the marshes, the Nile glided, h...

The style ofThe Day of Temptationis very melodramatic and overwritten – adjectives and adverbs abound to the confusion of the reader. The book is very much set in high society and sometimes reminds me of the immortal Daisy Ashford – I’m sure books like this were among her inspiration.

Imagine an organized gang of thieves, ruthless, working together like a modern machine, run by one man referred to only as „Golden Face."This tale inexorably takes you step-by-step into the organization, as we follow the main character’s fall into the underworld of crime.Takes place around the 1900s, but action packed and loaded with intrigue; even room for a budding romance in with all the twists and turns of the story.Really enjoyed this story, looking for more like it....

Strange is a good way to sum up the story. The refusal of our hero to get more help is, frankly, quite confusing, and he’s darn lucky to survive. The ending is bad – you just let the villain go? Really? Yeah, he gets his just desserts, but still, not a fan of that sort of conclusion by accident. Regardless, I do love the idea of falling love by photograph. If you like a strange, complicated mystery, give it a try.

When I was fourteen, we moved to London with my father. He became an agent on Wood Street, City, representing a large silk maker in Lyon. At the age of twenty, I worked in an office with dusty books and a large armchair that I did not really like. I was always interested in mechanics, but my father did not perceive her as a profession and wanted me to walk in his footsteps.

I sometimes despair of the country ever becoming alive to the danger of the unpreparedness of our present position until too late to prevent some fatal catastrophe. This was the keynote of a solemn warning made in the House of Lords by Earl Roberts. His lordship, whilst drawing attention to our present inadequate forces, strongly urged that action should be taken in accordance with the recommendations of the Elgin Commission that „no military system could be considered sati...

In this story I have dealt with an extraordinary phase of modern life in London, which to the majority will come as a startling revelation. Some will, perhaps, declare that no such amazing state of things exists in this, the most enlightened age the world has known. To such, I can only assert that in this decadent civilisation of ours the things which I have described actually take place in secret, as certain facts in my possession indisputably show.

Being some Curious Records concerning the Craft and Cunning of Theodore Drost, an enemy alien in London, together with certain Revelations regarding his daughter Ella The pair had been discussing certain schemes to the detriment of the English: schemes which, in the main, depended upon the crafty old Drost’s expert knowledge of high-explosives.

Our hero, Richard Scarsmere, befriends an individual (Omar) at an English boarding school who turns out to be an African prince from a kingdom called Mo. Omar receives a visit from one of his mother’s trusted advisers. His mother, the Great White Queen, seeks him to return home immediately. Omar convinces Scarsmere to return to Africa with him since there is little opportunity awaiting him in London. What follows is a tale of deceit, treachery, barbarity, and mystery....

Warm, brilliant, and cloudless was the July noon. Beneath the summer sun the broad, shallow waters of the Meuse sparkled as they rippled swiftly onward through the deep, winding valley of grey rocks and cool woods on their way from the mountains of Lorraine, through peaceful, prosperous Belgium, towards the sea.

To allow so young and delicate a girl to tramp England aimlessly in search of some vague and secret information which seemed to be her erratic father’s object, was, we decided, an utter impossibility; therefore, following that night of our first meeting at Helpstone, Burton and his daughter remained our guests for a week, and, after many consultations and some little economies, we were at last successful in placing Mabel at school, a service for which we later received her ...

An interesting classic mystery, yes, I guess I could say enjoyable but to a certain extent... At first you are dragged to the edge of your seat wondering whats going to happen next or what the hell does this unusual introduction mean, then you’re hit with a bunch of senarios that keep you wanting to just continue to the next chapter to see what will happen, then you realise that some of what you may have suspected in the beginning IS the conclusion to the plot...

„It is imperative that active steps must be taken to preserve England’s supremacy, and at the same time frustrate this aggressive policy towards us which is undoubtedly growing. I need not tell you that the outlook is far from reassuring. As a diplomatist you know that as well as I do. The war-cloud which rose over Europe at the end of the last Administration is still darkening. It therefore behoves us to avoid a repetition of the recent fiasco at St. Petersburg with regard...

Frank Burgoyne, newly rich through inheritance, falls madly and improbably in love with a beautiful but mysterious Russian and becomes unwittingly and unknowingly embroiled in an international plot punctuated by a series of murders. Burgoyne suffers several bewildering experiences, including incarcerations in Russia and England, and he is constantly questioning his love’s motivations and fealty.

Then it’s an entire mystery? „Yes, Phrida.” „But it’s astounding! It really seems so utterly impossible,” declared my well-beloved, amazed at what I had just related. „I’ve simply stated hard facts.” „But there’s been nothing about this affair in the papers.” „For certain reasons the authorities are not exactly anxious for any publicity. It is a very puzzling problem, and they do not care to own themselves baffled,” I replied.

A large, square wooden veranda covered by a red and white awning, above a wide silent sweep of flowing river, whose huge rocks, worn smooth through a thousand ages, raised their backs about the stream, a glimpse of green feathery palms and flaming scarlet poinsettias on the island opposite, and beyond the great drab desert, the illimitable waste of stony, undulating sands stretching away to the infinite, and bathed in the blood-red light of the dying day.

Let me gaze down the vista of the tristful past. Ah! there are things that cannot be uttered; there are scenes that still entrance me, and incidents so unexpected and terrible that they cause me even now to hold my breath in horror. The prologue of this extraordinary drama of London life was enacted three years ago; its astounding dénouement occurred quite recently.