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- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023
This Excellent Collection brings together Arthur Conan Doyle's longer, major books and a fine selection of shorter pieces and Fiction Books. These Books created and collected in Conan Doyle's Most important Works illuminate the life and work of one of the most individual writers of the XX century - a man who elevated political writing to an art.Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle (22 May 1859 7 July 1930) was a British writer and physician. He created the character Sherlock Holmes in 1887 for A Study in Scarlet, the first of four novels and fifty-six short stories about Holmes and Dr. Watson. The Sherlock Holmes stories are considered milestones in the field of crime fiction.Doyle was a prolific writer; other than Holmes stories, his works include fantasy and science fiction stories about Professor Challenger and humorous stories about the Napoleonic soldier Brigadier Gerard, as well as plays, romances, poetry, non-fiction and historical novels. One of Doyle's early short stories, "J. Habakuk Jephson's Statement" (1884), helped to popularise the mystery of the Mary Celeste. Author Arthur Conan Doyle wrote 60 mystery stories featuring the wildly popular detective character Sherlock Holmes and his loyal assistant Watson.This Collection included:1. A Desert Drama2. A Duet with an occasional chorus3. A Study In Scarlet4. A Visit to Three Fronts5. Beyond the City6. Danger! and Other Stories7. His Last Bow8. Micah Clarke9. My Friend The Murderer10. Rodney Stone11. Round The Red Lamp12. Sir Nigel13. Songs of Action14. Songs Of The Road15. Tales of Terror and Mystery16. The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans17. The Adventure of the Cardboard Box18. The Adventure of the Devil's Foot19. The Adventure of the Dying Detective20. The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone21. The Adventure of the Red Circle22. The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge23. The Adventures of Gerard24. The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes25. The Cabman's Story26. The Captain of the Polestar27. The Crime of the Congo28. The Dealings of Captain Sharkey29. The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax30. The Doings of Raffles Haw31. The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard32. The Firm of Girdlestone33. The Great Boer War34. The Great Keinplatz Experiment35. The Great Shadow and Other Napoleonic Tales36. The Green Flag37. The Hound of the Baskervilles38. The Last Galley39. The Last of the Legions and Other Tales40. The Lost World41. The Man from Archangel42. The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes43. The Mystery of Cloomber44. The New Revelation45. The Parasite46. The Poison Belt47. The Problem of Thor Bridge48. The Refugees49. The Return of Sherlock Holmes50. The Sign of the Four51. The Stark Munro Letters52. The Tragedy of The Korosko53. The Valley of Fear54. The Vital Message55. The War in South Africa56. The White Company57. Through the Magic Door58. Uncle Bernac59. The Wanderings of a Spiritualist60. The Guards Came Through and Other Poems61. The Gully of Bluemansdyke62. The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring
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Arthur Conan Doyle Collection
The Complete Works with Illustrated & Annotated
* * *
Arthur Conan Doyle
ILLUSTRATED & PUBLISHED
BY
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Istanbul
E-ISBN: 978-625-7287-36-4
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©All rights reserved. Cover Image, Designed by e-Kitap Projesi & Cheapest Books
Table of Contents
About the Book & Author
A DESERT DRAMA
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
A DUET WITH AN OCCASIONAL CHORUS
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
A STUDY IN SCARLET
PART I.
PART II.
A VISIT TO THREE FRONTS
PREFACE
A GLIMPSE OF THE BRITISH ARMY
A GLIMPSE OF THE ITALIAN ARMY
A GLIMPSE OF THE FRENCH LINE
BEYOND THE CITY
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
DANGER! AND OTHER STORIES
PREFACE
I. DANGER! {1} BEING THE LOG OF CAPTAIN JOHN SIRIUS
II. ONE CROWDED HOUR
III. A POINT OF VIEW
IV. THE FALL OF LORD BARRYMORE
V. THE HORROR OF THE HEIGHTS
VI. BORROWED SCENES
VII. THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL
VIII. HOW IT HAPPENED
IX. THE PRISONER'S DEFENCE
X. THREE OF THEM
HIS LAST BOW
MICAH CLARKE
Chapter I.
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV.
Chapter V.
Chapter VI.
Chapter VII.
Chapter VIII.
Chapter IX.
Chapter X.
Chapter XI.
Chapter XII.
Chapter XIII.
Chapter XIV.
Chapter XV.
Chapter XVI.
Chapter XVII.
Chapter XVIII.
Chapter XIX.
Chapter XX.
Chapter XXI.
Chapter XXII.
Chapter XXIII.
Chapter XXIV.
Chapter XXV.
Chapter XXVI.
Chapter XXVII.
Chapter XXVIII.
Chapter XXIX.
Chapter XXX.
Chapter XXXI.
Chapter XXXII.
Chapter XXXIII.
Chapter XXXIV.
Chapter XXXV.
Chapter XXXVI.
APPENDIX
MY FRIEND THE MURDERER
RODNEY STONE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
CHAPTER XVIII
CHAPTER XIX
CHAPTER XX
CHAPTER XXI
CHAPTER XXII
ROUND THE RED LAMP
THE PREFACE.
BEHIND THE TIMES.
HIS FIRST OPERATION.
A STRAGGLER OF '15.
THE THIRD GENERATION.
A FALSE START.
THE CURSE OF EVE.
SWEETHEARTS.
A PHYSIOLOGIST'S WIFE.
THE CASE OF LADY SANNOX.
A QUESTION OF DIPLOMACY.
A MEDICAL DOCUMENT.
LOT NO. 249.
THE LOS AMIGOS FIASCO.
THE DOCTORS OF HOYLAND.
THE SURGEON TALKS.
SIR NIGEL
INTRODUCTION
I. THE HOUSE OF LORING
II. HOW THE DEVIL CAME TO WAVERLEY
III. THE YELLOW HORSE OF CROOKSBURY
IV. HOW THE SUMMONER CAME TO THE MANOR HOUSE OF TILFORD
V. HOW NIGEL WAS TRIED BY THE ABBOT OF WAVERLEY
VI. IN WHICH LADY ERMYNTRUDE OPENS THE IRON COFFER
VII. HOW NIGEL WENT MARKETING TO GUILDFORD
VIII. HOW THE KING HAWKED ON CROOKSBURY HEATH
IX. HOW NIGEL HELD THE BRIDGE AT TILFORD
X. HOW THE KING GREETED HIS SENESCHAL OF CALAIS
XI. IN THE HALL OF THE KNIGHT OF DUPLIN
XII. HOW NIGEL FOUGHT THE TWISTED MAN OF SHALFORD
XIII. HOW THE COMRADES JOURNEYED DOWN THE OLD, OLD ROAD
XIV. HOW NIGEL CHASED THE RED FERRET
XV. HOW THE RED FERRET CAME TO COSFORD
XVI. HOW THE KING'S COURT FEASTED IN CALAIS CASTLE
XVII. THE SPANIARDS ON THE SEA
XVIII. HOW BLACK SIMON CLAIMED FORFEIT FROM THE KING OF SARK
XIX. HOW A SQUIRE OF ENGLAND MET A SQUIRE OF FRANCE
XX. HOW THE ENGLISH ATTEMPTED THE CASTLE OF LA BROHINIERE
XXI. HOW THE SECOND MESSENGER WENT TO COSFORD
XXII. HOW ROBERT OF BEAUMANOIR CAME TO PLOERMEL
XXIII. HOW THIRTY OF JOSSELIN ENCOUNTERED THIRTY OF PLOERMEL
XXIV. HOW NIGEL WAS CALLED TO HIS MASTER
XXV. HOW THE KING OF FRANCE HELD COUNSEL AT MAUPERTUIS
XXVI. HOW NIGEL FOUND HIS THIRD DEED
XXVII. HOW THE THIRD MESSENGER CAME TO COSFORD
SONGS OF ACTION
SONGS OF THE ROAD
TALES OF TERROR
ADVENTURE OF THE BRUCE-PARTINGTON PLANS
THE ADVENTURE OF THE CARDBOARD BOX
THE ADVENTURE OF THE DEVIL'S FOOT
THE ADVENTURE OF THE DYING DETECTIVE
THE ADVENTURE OF THE MAZARIN STONE
THE ADVENTURE OF THE RED CIRCLE
THE ADVENTURE OF WISTERIA LODGE
THE ADVENTURES OF GERARD
PREFACE
I. How Brigadier Gerard Lost His Ear
II. How the Brigadier Captured Saragossa
III. How the Brigadier Slew the Fox[*]
IV. How the Brigadier Saved the Army
V. How the Brigadier Triumphed in England
VI. How the Brigadier Rode to Minsk
VII . How the Brigadier Bore Himself at Waterloo
VIII. The Last Adventure of the Brigadier
THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
ADVENTURE I. A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA
ADVENTURE II. THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE
ADVENTURE III. A CASE OF IDENTITY
ADVENTURE IV. THE BOSCOMBE VALLEY MYSTERY
ADVENTURE V. THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS
ADVENTURE VI. THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP
VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE CARBUNCLE
VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND
IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER'S THUMB
X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR
XI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET
XII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER BEECHES
THE CABMAN'S STORY
THE CAPTAIN OF THE POLESTAR AND OTHER TALES.
PREFACE
F. HABAKUK JEPHSON'S STATEMENT.
THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT.
THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL.
THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX.
JOHN HUXFORD'S HIATUS.
CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS.
JOHN BARRINGTON COWLES.
ELIAS B. HOPKINS, THE PARSON OF JACKMAN'S GULCH.
THE RING OF THOTH.
THE CRIME OF THE CONGO
Introduction
I. How The Congo Free State Came to Be Founded
II. The Development of the Congo State
III. The Working of the System
IV. First Fruits of the System
V. Further Fruits of the System
VI. Voices from the Darkness
VII. Consul Roger Casement's Report
VIII. King Leopold's Commission and its Report
IX. The Congo after the Commission
X. Some Catholic Testimony as to the Congo
XI. The Evidence Up to Date
XII. The Political Situation
XIII. Some Congo State Apologies
XIV. Solutions
Appendix
THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY
I. CAPTAIN SHARKEY: HOW THE GOVERNOR OF SAINT KITT'S CAME HOME
II. THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY WITH STEPHEN CRADDOCK
III. THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY
IV. HOW COPLEY BANKS SLEW CAPTAIN SHARKEY
V. THE "SLAPPING SAL"
VI. A PIRATE OF THE LAND
VII. THE STRIPED CHEST
VIII. THE CAPTAIN OF THE "POLESTAR"
IX. THE FIEND OF THE COOPERAGE
X. JELLAND'S VOYAGE
XI. J. HABAKUK JEPHSON'S STATEMENT
XII. THAT LITTLE SQUARE BOX
THE DISAPPEARANCE OF LADY FRANCES CARFAX
THE DOINGS OF RAFFLES HAW
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
THE EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD
1. HOW THE BRIGADIER CAME TO THE CASTLE OF GLOOM[A]
2. HOW THE BRIGADIER SLEW THE BROTHERS OF AJACCIO
3. HOW THE BRIGADIER HELD THE KING
4. HOW THE KING HELD THE BRIGADIER
5. HOW THE BRIGADIER TOOK THE FIELD AGAINST THE MARSHAL MILLEFLEURS
6. HOW THE BRIGADIER PLAYED FOR A KINGDOM
7. HOW THE BRIGADIER WON HIS MEDAL
8. HOW THE BRIGADIER WAS TEMPTED BY THE DEVIL
THE FIRM OF GIRDLESTONE
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHAPTER XL.
CHAPTER XLI.
CHAPTER XLII.
CHAPTER XLIII.
CHAPTER XLIV.
CHAPTER XLV.
CHAPTER XLVI.
CHAPTER XLVII.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
CHAPTER XLIX.
CHAPTER L.
THE GREAT BOER WAR
PREFACE TO THE FINAL EDITION.
CHAPTER 1.
CHAPTER 2.
CHAPTER 3.
CHAPTER 4.
CHAPTER 5.
CHAPTER 6.
CHAPTER 7.
CHAPTER 8.
CHAPTER 9.
CHAPTER 10.
CHAPTER 11.
CHAPTER 12.
CHAPTER 13.
CHAPTER 14.
CHAPTER 15.
CHAPTER 16.
CHAPTER 17.
CHAPTER 18.
CHAPTER 19.
CHAPTER 20.
CHAPTER 21.
CHAPTER 22.
CHAPTER 23.
CHAPTER 24.
CHAPTER 25.
CHAPTER 26.
CHAPTER 27.
CHAPTER 28.
CHAPTER 29.
CHAPTER 30.
CHAPTER 31.
CHAPTER 32.
CHAPTER 33.
CHAPTER 34.
CHAPTER 35.
CHAPTER 36.
CHAPTER 37.
CHAPTER 38.
CHAPTER 39.
THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT
I. THE BROWN HAND
II. THE USHER OF LEA HOUSE SCHOOL
III. B. 24
IV. THE GREAT KEINPLATZ EXPERIMENT
V. CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS
VI. PLAYING WITH FIRE
VII. THE RING OF THOTH
VIII. THE LOS AMIGOS FIASCO
IX. HOW IT HAPPENED
X. LOT NO. 249
XI. "DE PROFUNDIS"
XII. THE LIFT
THE GREAT SHADOW AND OTHER NAPOLEONIC TALES
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
THE GREEN FLAG
I. HOW THE GOVERNOR OF SAINT KITT'S CAME HOME.
II. THE DEALINGS OF CAPTAIN SHARKEY WITH STEPHEN CRADDOCK
III. HOW COPLEY BANKS SLEW CAPTAIN SHARKEY
THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
THE LAST GALLEY
PREFACE
THE LAST GALLEY
THE CONTEST.
THROUGH THE VEIL.
AN ICONOCLAST.
THE COMING OF MAXIMIN
THE RISE OF GIANT MAXIMIN
THE FALL OF MAXIMIN
THE COMING OF THE HUNS
THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS
THE FIRST CARGO
THE HOME-COMING
THE RED STAR
THE SILVER MIRROR
THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY
THE MARRIAGE OF THE BRIGADIER
THE LORD OF FALCONBRIDGE
OUT OF THE RUNNING
"DE PROFUNDIS"
THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR
THE TERROR OF BLUE JOHN GAP
THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS & OTHER TALES OF LONG AGO
I. THE LAST OF THE LEGIONS
II. THE LAST GALLEY
III. THROUGH THE VEIL
IV. THE COMING OF THE HUNS
V. THE CONTEST
VI. THE FIRST CARGO
VII. AN ICONOCLAST
VIII. GIANT MAXIMIN
IX. THE RED STAR
X. THE SILVER MIRROR
XI. THE HOME-COMING
XII. A POINT OF CONTACT
XIII. THE CENTURION
THE LOST WORLD
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL
I. THE DÉBUT OF BIMBASHI JOYCE
II. THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL
III. BORROWED SCENES
IV. THE MAN FROM ARCHANGEL
V. THE GREAT BROWN-PERICORD MOTOR
VI. THE SEALED ROOM
VII. A PHYSIOLOGIST'S WIFE
VIII. BEHIND THE TIMES
IX. HIS FIRST OPERATION
X. THE THIRD GENERATION
XI. THE CURSE OF EVE
XII. A MEDICAL DOCUMENT
XIII. THE SURGEON TALKS
XIV. THE DOCTORS OF HOYLAND
XV. CRABBE'S PRACTICE
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Adventure I. Silver Blaze
Adventure II. The Yellow Face
Adventure III. The Stock-Broker's Clerk
Adventure IV. The "Gloria Scott"
Adventure V. The Musgrave Ritual
Adventure VI. The Reigate Puzzle
Adventure VII. The Crooked Man
Adventure VIII. The Resident Patient
Adventure IX. The Greek Interpreter
Adventure X. The Naval Treaty
Adventure XI. The Final Problem
THE MYSTERY OF CLOOMBER
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
THE NEW REVELATION
PREFACE
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV
THE PARASITE
THE POISON BELT
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
THE PROBLEM OF THOR BRIDGE
THE REFUGEES
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
CHAPTER XL.
THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE ADVENTURE OF THE EMPTY HOUSE
THE ADVENTURE OF THE NORWOOD BUILDER
THE ADVENTURE OF THE DANCING MEN
THE ADVENTURE OF THE SOLITARY CYCLIST
THE ADVENTURE OF THE PRIORY SCHOOL
THE ADVENTURE OF BLACK PETER
THE ADVENTURE OF CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON
THE ADVENTURE OF THE SIX NAPOLEONS
THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS
THE ADVENTURE OF THE GOLDEN PINCE-NEZ
THE ADVENTURE OF THE MISSING THREE-QUARTER
THE ADVENTURE OF THE ABBEY GRANGE
THE ADVENTURE OF THE SECOND STAIN
THE SIGN OF THE FOUR
Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI
Chapter VII
Chapter VIII
Chapter IX
Chapter X
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
THE STARK MUNRO LETTERS
THE TRAGEDY OF THE KOROSKO
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
THE VALLEY OF FEAR
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Part 2--The Scowrers
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
THE VITAL MESSAGE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
THE WAR IN SOUTH AFRICA
PREFACE
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
THE WHITE COMPANY
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THROUGH THE MAGIC DOOR
UNCLE BERNAC
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
CHAPTER XIV
CHAPTER XV
CHAPTER XVI
CHAPTER XVII
THE WANDERINGS OF A SPIRITUALIST
CHAPTER I
CHAPTER II
CHAPTER III
CHAPTER IV
CHAPTER V
CHAPTER VI
CHAPTER VII
CHAPTER VIII
CHAPTER IX
CHAPTER X
CHAPTER XI
CHAPTER XII
CHAPTER XIII
THE GUARDS CAME THROUGH AND OTHER POEMS
THE GULLY OF BLUEMANSDYKE
THE CROXLEY MASTER
About the Book & Author
§
This Excellent Collection brings together Arthur Conan Doyle's longer, major books and a fine selection of shorter pieces and Fiction Books. These Books created and collected in Conan Doyle's Most important Works illuminate the life and work of one of the most individual writers of the XX century - a man who elevated political writing to an art.
Sir Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle (22 May 1859 – 7 July 1930) was a British writer and physician. He created the character Sherlock Holmes in 1887 for A Study in Scarlet, the first of four novels and fifty-six short stories about Holmes and Dr. Watson. The Sherlock Holmes stories are considered milestones in the field of crime fiction.
Doyle was a prolific writer; other than Holmes stories, his works include fantasy and science fiction stories about Professor Challenger and humorous stories about the Napoleonic soldier Brigadier Gerard, as well as plays, romances, poetry, non-fiction and historical novels. One of Doyle's early short stories, "J. Habakuk Jephson's Statement" (1884), helped to popularise the mystery of the Mary Celeste.Author Arthur Conan Doyle wrote 60 mystery stories featuring the wildly popular detective character Sherlock Holmes and his loyal assistant Watson.
This Collection included:
1.A Desert Drama
2.A Duet with an occasional chorus
3.A Study In Scarlet
4.A Visit to Three Fronts
5.Beyond the City
6.Danger! and Other Stories
7.His Last Bow
8.Micah Clarke
9.My Friend The Murderer
10.Rodney Stone
11.Round The Red Lamp
12.Sir Nigel
13.Songs of Action
14.Songs Of The Road
15.Tales of Terror and Mystery
16.The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans
17.The Adventure of the Cardboard Box
18.The Adventure of the Devil's Foot
19.The Adventure of the Dying Detective
20.The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone
21.The Adventure of the Red Circle
22.The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge
23.The Adventures of Gerard
24.The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
25.The Cabman's Story
26.The Captain of the Polestar
27.The Crime of the Congo
28.The Dealings of Captain Sharkey
29.The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax
30.The Doings of Raffles Haw
31.The Exploits of Brigadier Gerard
32.The Firm of Girdlestone
33.The Great Boer War
34.The Great Keinplatz Experiment
35.The Great Shadow and Other Napoleonic Tales
36.The Green Flag
37.The Hound of the Baskervilles
38.The Last Galley
39.The Last of the Legions and Other Tales
40.The Lost World
41.The Man from Archangel
42.The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
43.The Mystery of Cloomber
44.The New Revelation
45.The Parasite
46.The Poison Belt
47.The Problem of Thor Bridge
48.The Refugees
49.The Return of Sherlock Holmes
50.The Sign of the Four
51.The Stark Munro Letters
52.The Tragedy of The Korosko
53.The Valley of Fear
54.The Vital Message
55.The War in South Africa
56.The White Company
57.Through the Magic Door
58.Uncle Bernac
59.The Wanderings of a Spiritualist
60.The Guards Came Through and Other Poems
61.The Gully of Bluemansdyke
62.The Croxley Master: A Great Tale Of The Prize Ring
* * *
Who Was A. Conan Doyle?
Early Life
In 1890,Arthur Conan Doyle'snovel,A Study in Scarletintroduced the character of Detective Sherlock Holmes. Doyle would go on to write 60 stories about Sherlock Holmes. He also strove to spread his Spiritualism faith through a series of books that were written from 1918 to 1926. Doyle died of a heart attack in Crowborough, England on July 7, 1930.
Early Life
On May 22, 1859, Arthur Conan Doyle was born to an affluent, strict Irish-Catholic family in Edinburgh, Scotland. Although Doyle's family was well-respected in the art world, his father, Charles, who was a life-long alcoholic, had few accomplishments to speak of. Doyle's mother, Mary, was a lively and well-educated woman who loved to read. She particularly delighted in telling her young son outlandish stories. Her great enthusiasm and animation while spinning wild tales sparked the child's imagination. As Doyle would later recall in his biography, "In my early childhood, as far as I can remember anything at all, the vivid stories she would tell me stand out so clearly that they obscure the real facts of my life."
At the age of 9, Doyle bid a tearful goodbye to his parents and was shipped off to England, where he would attend Hodder Place, Stonyhurst — a Jesuit preparatory school — from 1868 to 1870. Doyle then went on to study at Stonyhurst College for the next five years. For Doyle, the boarding-school experience was brutal: many of his classmates bullied him, and the school practiced ruthless corporal punishment against its students. Over time, Doyle found solace in his flair for storytelling and developed an eager audience of younger students.
Medical Education and Career
When Doyle graduated from Stonyhurst College in 1876, his parents expected that he would follow in his family's footsteps and study art, so they were surprised when he decided to pursue a medical degree at the University of Edinburgh instead. At med school, Doyle met his mentor, Professor Dr. Joseph Bell, whose keen powers of observation would later inspire Doyle to create his famed fictional detective character, Sherlock Holmes. At the University of Edinburgh, Doyle also had the good fortune to meet classmates and future fellow authors James Barrie and Robert Louis Stevenson. While a medical student, Doyle took his own first stab at writing, with a short story calledThe Mystery of Sasassa Valley. That was followed by a second story,The American Tale, which was published inLondon Society.
During Doyle's third year of medical school, he took a ship surgeon's post on a whaling ship sailing for the Arctic Circle. The voyage awakened Doyle's sense of adventure, a feeling that he incorporated into a story,Captain of the Pole Star.
In 1880, Doyle returned to medical school. Back at the University of Edinburgh, Doyle became increasingly invested in Spiritualism or "Psychic religion," a belief system that he would later attempt to spread through a series of his written works. By the time he received his Bachelor of Medicine degree in 1881, Doyle had denounced his Roman Catholic faith.
Doyle's first paying job as a doctor took the form of a medical officer's position aboard the steamship Mayumba, traveling from Liverpool to Africa. After his stint on the Mayumba, Doyle settled in Plymouth, England for a time. When his funds were nearly tapped out, he relocated to Portsmouth and opened his first practice. He spent the next few years struggling to balance his burgeoning medical career with his efforts to gain recognition as an author. Doyle would later give up medicine altogether, in order to devote all of his attention to his writing and his faith.
Personal Life
In 1885, while still struggling to make it as a writer, Doyle met and married his first wife, Louisa Hawkins. The couple moved to Upper Wimpole Street and had two children, a daughter and a son. In 1893, Louisa was diagnosed with tuberculosis. While Louisa was ailing, Doyle developed an affection for a young woman named Jean Leckie. Louisa ultimately died of tuberculosis in Doyle's arms, in 1906. The following year, Doyle would remarry to Jean Leckie, with whom he would have two sons and a daughter.
Books: Sherlock Holmes
In 1886, newly married and still struggling to make it as an author, Doyle started writing the mystery novelA Tangled Skein. Two years later, the novel was renamedA Study in Scarletand published inBeeton's Christmas Annual.A Study in Scarlet, which first introduced the wildly popular characters Detective Sherlock Holmes and his assistant, Watson, finally earned Doyle the recognition he had so desired. It was the first of 60 stories that Doyle would pen about Sherlock Holmes over the course of his writing career. Also, in 1887, Doyle submitted two letters about his conversion to Spiritualism to a weekly periodical calledLight.
Doyle continued to actively participate in the Spiritualist movement from 1887 to 1916, during which time he wrote three books that experts consider largely autobiographical. These includeBeyond the City(1893),The Stark Munro Letters(1895) andA Duet with an Occasional Chorus(1899). Upon achieving success as a writer, Doyle decided to retire from medicine. Throughout this period, he additionally produced a handful of historical novels including one about the Napoleonic Era calledThe Great Shadowin 1892, and his most famous historical novel,Rodney Stone, in 1896.
The prolific author also composed four of his most popular Sherlock Holmes books during the 1890s and early 1900s:The Sign of Four(1890),The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes(1892),The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes(1894) andThe Hound of Baskervilles, published in 1901. In 1893, to Doyle's readers' disdain, he had attempted to kill off his Sherlock Holmes character in order to focus more on writing about Spiritualism. In 1901, however, Doyle reintroduced Sherlock Holmes inThe Hound of Baskervillesand later brought him back to life inThe Adventure of the Empty Houseso the lucrative character could earn Doyle the money to fund his missionary work. Doyle also strove to spread his faith through a series of written works, consisting ofThe New Revolution(1918),The Vital Message(1919),The Wanderings of a Spiritualist(1921) andHistory of Spiritualism(1926).
In 1928, Doyle's final twelve stories about Sherlock Holmes were published in a compilation entitledThe Casebook of Sherlock Holmes.
Death
A DESERT DRAMA
§
CHAPTER I
The public may possibly wonder why it is that they have never heard in the papers of the fate of the passengers of the Korosko. In these days of universal press agencies, responsive to the slightest stimulus, it may well seem incredible that an international incident of such importance should remain so long unchronicled. Suffice it that there were very valid reasons, both of a personal and political nature, for holding it back. The facts were well known to a good number of people at the time, and some version of them did actually appear in a provincial paper, but was generally discredited They have now been thrown into narrative form, the incidents having been collated from the sworn statements of Colonel Cochrane Cochrane, of the Army and Navy Club, and from the letters of Miss Adams, of Boston, Mass. These have been supplemented by the evidence of Captain Archer, of the Egyptian Camel Corps, as given before the secret Government inquiry at Cairo. Mr. James Stephens has refused to put his version of the matter into writing, but as these proofs have been submitted to him, and no correction or deletion has been made in them, it may be supposed that he has not succeeded in detecting any grave misstatement of fact, and that any objection which he may have to their publication depends rather upon private and personal scruples.
The Korosko, a turtle-bottomed, round-bowed stern-wheeler, with a 30-inch draught and the lines of a flat-iron, started upon the 13th of February, in the year 1895, from Shellal, at the head of the first cataract, bound for Wady Haifa. I have a passenger card for the trip, which I hereby produce:
S. W. "Korosko," February 13TH.
PASSENGERS.
Colonel Cochrane Cochrane London
Mr. Cecil Brown London
John H. Headingly Boston, USA
Miss Adams Boston, USA
Miss S. Adams Worcester, Mass, USA
Mons Fardet Paris
Mr. and Mrs. Belmont Dublin
James Stephens Manchester
Rev. John Stuart Birmingham
Mrs. Shlesinger, nurse and child Florence
This was the party as it started from Shellal with the intention of travelling up the two hundred miles of Nubian Nile which lie between the first and the second cataract.
It is a singular country, this Nubia. Varying in breadth from a few miles to as many yards (for the name is only applied to the narrow portion which is capable of cultivation), it extends in a thin, green, palm-fringed strip upon either side of the broad coffee-coloured river. Beyond it there stretches on the Libyan bank a savage and illimitable desert, extending to the whole breadth of Africa. On the other side an equally desolate wilderness is bounded only by the distant Red Sea. Between these two huge and barren expanses Nubia writhes like a green sandworm along the course of the river. Here and there it disappears altogether, and the Nile runs between black and sun-cracked hills, with the orange drift-sand lying like glaciers in their valleys. Everywhere one sees traces of vanished races and submerged civilisations. Grotesque graves dot the hills or stand up against the sky-line: pyramidal graves, tumulus graves, rock graves,--everywhere, graves. And, occasionally, as the boat rounds a rocky point, one sees a deserted city up above,--houses, walls, battlements, with the sun shining through the empty window squares. Sometimes you learn that it has been Roman, sometimes Egyptian, sometimes all record of its name or origin has been absolutely lost, You ask yourself in amazement why any race should build in so uncouth a solitude, and you find it difficult to accept the theory that this has only been of value as a guard-house to the richer country down below, and that these frequent cities have been so many fortresses to hold off the wild and predatory men of the south. But whatever be their explanation, be it a fierce neighbour, or be it a climatic change, there they stand, these grim and silent cities, and up on the hills you can see the graves of their people, like the port-holes of a man-of-war. It is through this weird, dead country that the tourists smoke and gossip and flirt as they pass up to the Egyptian frontier.
The passengers of the Korosko formed a merry party, for most of them had travelled up together from Cairo to Assouan, and even Anglo-Saxon ice thaws rapidly upon the Nile. They were fortunate in being without the single disagreeable person who in these small boats is sufficient to mar the enjoyment of the whole party. On a vessel which is little more than a large steam launch, the bore, the cynic, or the grumbler holds the company at his mercy. But the Korosko was free from anything of the kind. Colonel Cochrane Cochrane was one of those officers whom the British Government, acting upon a large system of averages, declares at a certain age to be incapable of further service, and who demonstrate the worth of such a system by spending their declining years in exploring Morocco, or shooting lions in Somaliland. He was a dark, straight, aquiline man, with a courteously deferential manner, but a steady, questioning eye; very neat in his dress and precise in his habits, a gentleman to the tips of his trim fingernails. In his Anglo-Saxon dislike to effusiveness he had cultivated a self-contained manner which was apt at first acquaintance to be repellant, and he seemed to those who really knew him to be at some pains to conceal the kind heart and human emotions which influenced his actions. It was respect rather than affection which he inspired among his fellow-travellers, for they felt, like all who had ever met him, that he was a man with whom acquaintance was unlikely to ripen into a friendship, though a friendship when once attained would be an unchanging and inseparable part of himself. He wore a grizzled military moustache, but his hair was singularly black for a man of his years. He made no allusion in his conversation to the numerous campaigns in which he had distinguished himself, and the reason usually given for his reticence was that they dated back to such early Victorian days that he had to sacrifice his military glory at the shrine of his perennial youth.
Mr. Cecil Brown--to take the names in the chance order in which they appear upon the passenger list--was a young diplomatist from a Continental Embassy, a man slightly tainted with the Oxford manner, and erring upon the side of unnatural and inhuman refinement, but full of interesting talk and cultured thought. He had a sad, handsome face, a small wax-tipped moustache, a low voice and a listless manner, which was relieved by a charming habit of suddenly lighting up into a rapid smile and gleam when anything caught his fancy. An acquired cynicism was eternally crushing and overlying his natural youthful enthusiasms, and he ignored what was obvious while expressing keen appreciation for what seemed to the average man to be either trivial or unhealthy. He chose Walter Pater for his travelling author, and sat all day, reserved but affable, under the awning, with his novel and his sketch-book upon a campstool beside him. His personal dignity prevented him from making advances to others, but if they chose to address him, they found him a courteous and amiable companion.
The Americans formed a group by themselves. John H. Headingly was a New Englander, a graduate of Harvard, who was completing his education by a tour round the world. He stood for the best type of young American,--quick, observant, serious, eager for knowledge, and fairly free from prejudice, with a fine ballast of unsectarian but earnest religious feeling, which held him steady amid all the sudden gusts of youth. He had less of the appearance and more of the reality of culture than the young Oxford diplomatist, for he had keener emotions though less exact knowledge. Miss Adams and Miss Sadie Adams were aunt and niece, the former a little, energetic, hard-featured Bostonian old-maid, with a huge surplus of unused love behind her stern and swarthy features. She had never been from home before, and she was now busy upon the self-imposed task of bringing the East up to the standard of Massachusetts. She had hardly landed in Egypt before she realised that the country needed putting to rights, and since the conviction struck her she had been very fully occupied. The saddle-galled donkeys, the starved pariah dogs, the flies round the eyes of the babies, the naked children, the importunate begging, the ragged, untidy women,--they were all challenges to her conscience, and she plunged in bravely at her work of reformation. As she could not speak a word of the language, however, and was unable to make any of the delinquents understand what it was that she wanted, her passage up the Nile left the immemorial East very much as she had found it, but afforded a good deal of sympathetic amusement to her fellow-travellers. No one enjoyed her efforts more than her niece, Sadie, who shared with Mrs. Belmont the distinction of being the most popular person upon the boat. She was very young,--fresh from Smith College,--and she still possessed many both of the virtues and of the faults of a child. She had the frankness, the trusting confidence, the innocent straightforwardness, the high spirits, and also the loquacity and the want of reverence. But even her faults caused amusement, and if she had preserved many of the characteristics of a clever child, she was none the less a tall and handsome woman, who looked older than her years on account of that low curve of the hair over the ears, and that fulness of bodice and skirt which Mr. Gibson has either initiated or imitated. The whisk of those skirts, and the frank incisive voice and pleasant, catching laugh were familiar and welcome sounds on board of the Korosko. Even the rigid Colonel softened into geniality, and the Oxford-bred diplomatist forgot to be unnatural with Miss Sadie Adams as a companion.
The other passengers may be dismissed more briefly. Some were interesting, some neutral, and all amiable. Monsieur Fardet was a good-natured but argumentative Frenchman, who held the most decided views as to the deep machinations of Great Britain and the illegality of her position in Egypt. Mr. Belmont was an iron-grey, sturdy Irishman, famous as an astonishingly good long-range rifle-shot, who had carried off nearly every prize which Wimbledon or Bisley had to offer. With him was his wife, a very charming and refined woman, full of the pleasant playfulness of her country. Mrs. Shiesinger was a middle-aged widow, quiet and soothing, with her thoughts all taken up by her six-year-old child, as a mother's thoughts are likely to be in a boat which has an open rail for a bulwark. The Reverend John Stuart was a Non-conformist minister from Birmingham,--either a Presbyterian or a Congregationalist,--a man of immense stoutness, slow and torpid in his ways, but blessed with a considerable fond of homely humour, which made him, I am told, a very favourite preacher and an effective speaker from advanced radical platforms.
Finally, there was Mr. James Stephens, a Manchester solicitor (junior partner of Hickson, Ward, and Stephens), who was travelling to shake off the effects of an attack of influenza. Stephens was a man who, in the course of thirty years, had worked himself up from cleaning the firm's windows to managing its business. For most of that long time he had been absolutely immersed in dry, technical work, living with the one idea of satisfying old clients and attracting new ones, until his mind and soul had become as formal and precise as the laws which he expounded. A fine and sensitive nature was in danger of being as warped as a busy city man's is liable to become. His work had become an engrained habit, and, being a bachelor, he had hardly an interest in life to draw him away from it, so that his soul was being gradually bricked up like the body of a mediæval nun. But at last there came this kindly illness, and Nature hustled James Stephens out of his groove, and sent him into the broad world far away from roaring Manchester and his shelves full of calf-skin authorities. At first he resented it deeply. Everything seemed trivial to him compared to his own petty routine. But gradually his eyes were opened, and he began dimly to see that it was his work which was trivial when compared to this wonderful, varied, inexplicable world of which he was so ignorant. Vaguely he realised that the interruption to his career might be more important than the career itself. All sorts of new interests took, possession of him; and the middle-aged lawyer developed an after-glow of that youth which had been wasted among his books. His character was too formed to admit of his being anything but dry and precise in his ways, and a trifle pedantic in his mode of speech; but he read and thought and observed, scoring his "Baedeker" with underlinings and annotations as he had once done his "Prideaux's Commentaries." He had travelled up from Cairo with the party, and had contracted a friendship with Miss Adams and her niece. The young American girl, with her chatter, her audacity, and her constant flow of high spirits, amused and interested him, and she in turn felt a mixture of respect and of pity for his knowledge and his limitations. So they became good friends, and people smiled to see his clouded face and her sunny one bending over the same guide-book.
The little Korosko puffed and spluttered her way up the river, kicking up the white water behind her, and making more noise and fuss over her five knots an hour than an Atlantic liner on a record voyage. On deck, under the thick awning, sat her little family of passengers, and every few hours she eased down and sidled up to the bank to allow them to visit one more of that innumerable succession of temples. The remains, however, grow more modern as one ascends from Cairo, and travellers who have sated themselves at Gizeh and Sakara with the contemplation of the very oldest buildings which the hands of man have constructed, become impatient of temples which are hardly older than the Christian era. Ruins which would be gazed upon with wonder and veneration in any other country are hardly noticed in Egypt. The tourists viewed with languid interest the half-Greek art of the Nubian bas-reliefs; they climbed the hill of Korosko to see the sun rise over the savage Eastern desert; they were moved to wonder by the great shrine of Abou-Simbel, where some old race has hollowed out a mountain as if it were a cheese; and, finally, upon the evening of the fourth day of their travels they arrived at Wady Haifa, the frontier garrison town, some few hours after they were due, on account of a small mishap in the engine-room. The next morning was to be devoted to an expedition to the famous rock of Abousir, from which a great view may be obtained of the second cataract. At eight-thirty, as the passengers sat on deck after dinner, Mansoor, the dragoman, half Copt half Syrian, came forward, according to the nightly custom, to announce the programme for the morrow.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said he, plunging boldly into the rapid but broken stream of his English, "to-morrow you will remember not to forget to rise when the gong strikes you for to compress the journey before twelve o'clock. Having arrived at the place where the donkeys expect us, we shall ride five miles over the desert, passing a very fine temple of Ammon-ra which dates itself from the eighteenth dynasty upon the way, and so reach the celebrated pulpit rock of Abou-sir. The pulpit rock is supposed to have been called so because it is a rock like a pulpit. When you have reached it you will know that you are on the very edge of civilisation, and that very little more will take you into the country of the Dervishes, which will be obvious to you at the top. Having passed the summit, you will perceive the full extremity of the second cataract, embracing wild natural beauties of the most dreadful variety. Here all very famous people carve their names,--and so you will carve your names also."
Mansoor waited expectantly for a titter, and bowed to it when it arrived. "You will then return to Wady Haifa, and there remain two hours to suspect (sp.) the Camel Corps, including the grooming of the beasts, and the bazaar before returning, so I wish you a very happy good-night." There was a gleam of his white teeth in the lamplight, and then his long, dark petticoats, his short English cover-coat, and his red tarboosh vanished successively down the ladder. The low buzz of conversation which had been suspended by his coming broke out anew.
"I'm relying on you, Mr. Stephens, to tell me all about Abousir," said Miss Sadie Adams. "I do like to know what I am looking at right there at the time, and not six hours afterwards in my state-room. I haven't got Abou-Simbel and the wall pictures straight in my mind yet, though I saw them yesterday."
"I never hope to keep up with it," said her aunt. "When I am safe back in Commonwealth Avenue, and there's no dragoman to hustle me around, I'll have time to read about it all, and then I expect I shall begin to enthuse and want to come right back again. But it's just too good of you, Mr. Stephens, to try and keep us informed."
"I thought that you might wish precise information, and so I prepared a small digest of the matter," said Stephens, handing a slip of paper to Miss Sadie. She looked at it in the light of the deck lamp, and broke into her low, hearty laugh.
"Re Abousir," she read; "now, what do you mean by 're,' Mr. Stephens? You put 're Rameses the Second' on the last paper you gave me."
"It is a habit I have acquired, Miss Sadie," said Stephens; "it is the custom in the legal profession when they make a memo."
"Make what, Mr. Stephens?"
"A memo a memorandum, you know. We put re so-and-so to show what it is about."
"I suppose it's a good short way," said Miss Sadie, "but it feels queer somehow when applied to scenery or to dead Egyptian kings. 'Re Cheops,'--doesn't that strike you as funny?"
"No, I can't say that it does," said Stephens.
"I wonder if it is true that the English have less humour than the Americans, or whether it's just another kind of humour," said the girl. She had a quiet, abstracted way of talking as if she were thinking aloud. "I used to imagine they had less, and yet, when you come to think of it, Dickens and Thackeray and Barrie, and so many other of the humourists we admire most, are Britishers. Besides, I never in all my days heard people laugh so hard as in that London theatre. There was a man behind us, and every time he laughed auntie looked round to see if a door had opened, he made such a draught. But you have some funny expressions, Mr. Stephens!"
"What else strikes you as funny, Miss Sadie?"
"Well, when you sent me the temple ticket and the little map, you began your letter, 'Enclosed, please find,' and then at the bottom, in brackets, you had '2 enclo.'"
"That is the usual form in business."
"Yes, in business," said Sadie, demurely, and there was a silence.
"There's one thing I wish," remarked Miss Adams, in the hard, metallic voice with which she disguised her softness of heart, "and that is, that I could see the Legislature of this country and lay a few cold-drawn facts in front of them, I'd make a platform of my own, Mr. Stephens, and run a party on my ticket. A Bill for the compulsory use of eyewash would be one of my planks, and another would be for the abolition of those Yashmak veil things which turn a woman into a bale of cotton goods with a pair of eyes looking out of it."
"I never could think why they wore them," said Sadie; "until one day I saw one with her veil lifted. Then I knew."
"They make me tired, those women," cried Miss Adams, wrathfully. "One might as well try to preach duty and decency and cleanliness to a line of bolsters. Why, good land, it was only yesterday at Abou-Simbel, Mr. Stephens, I was passing one of their houses,--if you can call a mud-pie like that a house,--and I saw two of the children at the door with the usual crust of flies round their eyes, and great holes in their poor little blue gowns! So I got off my donkey, and I turned up my sleeves, and I washed their faces well with my handkerchief, and sewed up the rents,--for in this country I would as soon think of going ashore without my needle-case as without my white umbrella, Mr. Stephens. Then as I warmed on the job I got into the room,--such a room!--and I packed the folks out of it, and I fairly did the chores as if I had been the hired help. I've seen no more of that temple of Abou-Simbel than if I had never left Boston; but, my sakes, I saw more dust and mess than you would think they could crowd into a house the size of a Newport bathing-hut. From the time I pinned up my skirt until I came out, with my face the colour of that smoke-stack, wasn't more than an hour, or maybe an hour and a half, but I had that house as clean and fresh as a new pine-wood box. I had a New York Herald with me, and I lined their shelf with paper for them. Well, Mr. Stephens, when I had done washing my hands outside, I came past the door again, and there were those two children sitting on the stoop with their eyes full of flies, and all just the same as ever, except that each had a little paper cap made out of the New York Herald upon his head. But, say, Sadie, it's going on to ten o'clock, and tomorrow an early excursion."
"It's just too beautiful, this purple sky and the great silver stars," said Sadie. "Look at the silent desert and the black shadows of the hills. It's grand, but it's terrible, too; and then when you think that we really are, as that dragoman said just now, on the very end of civilisation, and with nothing but savagery and bloodshed down there where the Southern Cross is twinkling so prettily, why, it's like standing on the beautiful edge of a live volcano."
"Shucks, Sadie, don't talk like that, child," said the older woman, nervously. "It's enough to scare any one to listen to you."
"Well, but don't you feel it yourself, Auntie? Look at that great desert stretching away and away until it is lost in the shadows. Hear the sad whisper of the wind across it! It's just the most solemn thing that ever I saw in my life."
"I'm glad we've found something that will make you solemn, my dear," said her Aunt. "I've sometimes thought---- Sakes alive, what's that?"
From somewhere amongst the hill shadows upon the other side of the river there had risen a high shrill whimpering, rising and swelling, to end in a long weary wail.
"It's only a jackal, Miss Adams," said Stephens. "I heard one when we went out to see the Sphinx by moonlight."
But the American lady had risen, and her face showed that her nerves had been ruffled.
"If I had my time over again I wouldn't have come past Assouan," said she. "I can't think what possessed me to bring you all the way up here, Sadie. Your mother will think that I am clean crazy, and I'd never dare to look her in the eye if anything went wrong with us. I've seen all I want to see of this river, and all I ask now is to be back at Cairo again."
"Why, Auntie," cried the girl, "it isn't like you to be faint-hearted."
"Well, I don't know how it is, Sadie, but I feel a bit unstrung, and that beast caterwauling over yonder was just more than I could put up with. There's one consolation, we are scheduled to be on our way home to-morrow, after we've seen this one rock or temple, or whatever it is. I'm full up of rocks and temples, Mr. Stephens. I shouldn't mope if I never saw another. Come, Sadie! Good-night!"
"Good-night! Good-night, Miss Adams!" and the two ladies passed down to their cabins.
Monsieur Fardet was chatting, in a subdued voice, with Headingly, the young Harvard graduate, bending forward confidentially between the whiffs of his cigarette.
"Dervishes, Mister Headingly!" said he, speaking excellent English, but separating his syllables as a Frenchman will. "There are no Dervishes. They do not exist."
"Why, I thought the woods were full of them," said the American.
Monsieur Fardet glanced across to where the red core of Colonel Cochrane's cigar was glowing through the darkness.
"You are an American, and you do not like the English," he whispered. "It is perfectly comprehended upon the Continent that the Americans are opposed to the English."
"Well," said Headingly, with his slow, deliberate manner, "I won't say that we have not our tiffs, and there are some of our people--mostly of Irish stock--who are always mad with England; but the most of us have a kindly thought for the mother country. You see, they may be aggravating folk sometimes, but after all they are our own folk, and we can't wipe that off the slate."
"Eh bien!" said the Frenchman. "At least I can say to you what I could not without offence say to these others. And I repeat that there are no Dervishes. They were an invention of Lord Cromer in the year 1885."
"You don't say!" cried Headingly.
"It is well known in Paris, and has been exposed in La Patrie and other of our so well-informed papers."
"But this is colossal," said Headingly.
"Do you mean to tell me, Monsieur Fardet, that the siege of Khartoum and the death of Gordon and the rest of it was just one great bluff?"
"I will not deny that there was an emeute, but it was local, you understand, and now long forgotten. Since then there has been profound peace in the Soudan."
"But I have heard of raids, Monsieur Fardet, and I've read of battles, too, when the Arabs tried to invade Egypt. It was only two days ago that we passed Toski, where the dragoman said there had been a fight. Is that all bluff also?"
"Pah, my friend, you do not know the English. You look at them as you see them with their pipes and their contented faces, and you say, 'Now, these are good, simple folk who will never hurt any one.' But all the time they are thinking and watching and planning. 'Here is Egypt weak,' they cry. 'Allons!' and down they swoop like a gull upon a crust. 'You have no right there,' says the world. 'Come out of it!' But England has already begun to tidy everything, just like the good Miss Adams when she forces her way into the house of an Arab. 'Come out,' says the world. 'Certainly,' says England; 'just wait one little minute until I have made everything nice and proper.' So the world waits for a year or so, and then it says once again, 'Come out.' 'Just wait a little,' says England; 'there is trouble at Khartoum, and when I have set that all right I shall be very glad to come out.' So they wait until it is all over, and then again they say, 'Come out.' 'How can I come out,' says England, 'when there are still raids and battles going on? If we were to leave, Egypt would be run over.' 'But there are no raids,' says the world. 'Oh, are there not?' says England, and then within a week sure enough the papers are full of some new raid of Dervishes. We are not all blind, Mister Headingly. We understand very well how such things can be done. A few Bedouins, a little backsheesh, some blank cartridges, and, behold--a raid!"
"Well, well," said the American, "I'm glad to know the rights of this business, for it has often puzzled me. But what does England get out of it?"
"She gets the country, monsieur."
"I see. You mean, for example, that there is a favourable tariff for British goods?"
"No, monsieur; it is the same for all."
"Well, then, she gives the contracts to Britishers?"
"Precisely, monsieur."
"For example, the railroad that they are building right through the country, the one that runs alongside the river, that would be a valuable contract for the British?"
Monsieur Fardet was an honest man, if an imaginative one.
"It is a French company, monsieur, which holds the railway contract," said he.
The American was puzzled.
"They don't seem to get much for their trouble," said he. "Still, of course, there must be some indirect pull somewhere. For example, Egypt no doubt has to pay and keep all those red-coats in Cairo."
"Egypt, monsieur! No, they are paid by England."
"Well, I suppose they know their own business best, but they seem to me to take a great deal of trouble, and to get mighty little in exchange. If they don't mind keeping order and guarding the frontier, with a constant war against the Dervishes on their hands, I don't know why any one should object. I suppose no one denies that the prosperity of the country has increased enormously since they came. The revenue returns show that. They tell me, also, that the poorer folks have justice, which they never had before."
"What are they doing here at all?" cried the Frenchman, angrily. "Let them go back to their island. We cannot have them all over the world."
"Well, certainly, to us Americans who live all in our own land it does seem strange how you European nations are for ever slopping over into some other country which was not meant for you. It's easy for us to talk, of course, for we have still got room and to spare for all our people. When we start pushing each other over the edge we shall have to start annexing also. But at present just here in North Africa there is Italy in Abyssinia, and England in Egypt, and France in Algiers----"
"France!" cried Monsieur Fardet. "Algiers belongs to France. You laugh, monsieur. I have the honour to wish you a very good-night." He rose from his seat, and walked off, rigid with outraged patriotism, to his cabin.
CHAPTER II
The young American hesitated for a little, debating in his mind whether he should not go down and post up the daily record of his impressions which he kept for his home-staying sister. But the cigars of Colonel Cochrane and of Cecil Brown were still twinkling in the far corner of the deck, and the student was acquisitive in the search of information. He did not quite know how to lead up to the matter, but the Colonel very soon did it for him.
"Come on, Headingly," said he, pushing a camp-stool in his direction. "This is the place for an antidote. I see that Fardet has been pouring politics into your ear."
"I can always recognise the confidential stoop of his shoulders when he discusses la haute politique" said the dandy diplomatist. "But what a sacrilege upon a night like this! What a nocturne in blue and silver might be suggested by that moon rising above the desert. There is a movement in one of Mendelssohn's songs which seems to embody it all,--a sense of vastness, of repetition, the cry of the wind over an interminable expanse. The subtler emotions which cannot be translated into words are still to be hinted at by chords and harmonies."
"It seems wilder and more savage than ever to-night," remarked the American. "It gives me the same feeling of pitiless force that the Atlantic does upon a cold, dark, winter day. Perhaps it is the knowledge that we are right there on the very edge of any kind of law and order. How far do you suppose that we are from any Dervishes, Colonel Cochrane?"
"Well, on the Arabian side," said the Colonel, "we have the Egyptian fortified camp of Sarras about forty miles to the south of us. Beyond that are sixty miles of very wild country before you would come to the Dervish post at Akasheh. On this other side, however, there is nothing between us and them."
"Abousir is on this side, is it not?"
"Yes. That is why the excursion to the Abousir Rock has been forbidden for the last year. But things are quieter now."
"What is to prevent them from coming down on that side?"
"Absolutely nothing," said Cecil Brown, in his listless voice.
"Nothing, except their fears. The coming, of course, would be absolutely simple. The difficulty would lie in the return. They might find it hard to get back if their camels were spent and the Haifa garrison with their beasts fresh got on their track. They know it as well as we do, and it has kept them from trying."
"It isn't safe to reckon upon a Dervish's fears," remarked Brown. "We must always bear in mind that they are not amenable to the same motives as other people. Many of them are anxious to meet death, and all of them are absolute, uncompromising believers in destiny. They exist as a reductio ad absurdum of all bigotry,--a proof of how surely it leads towards blank barbarism."
"You think these people are a real menace to Egypt?" asked the American. "There seems from what I have heard to be some difference of opinion about it. Monsieur Fardet, for example, does not seem to think that the danger is a very pressing one."
"I am not a rich man," Colonel Cochrane answered, after a little pause, "but I am prepared to lay all I am worth that within three years of the British officers being withdrawn, the Dervishes would be upon the Mediterranean. Where would the civilisation of Egypt be? where would the hundreds of millions be which have been invested in this country? where the monuments which all nations look upon as most precious memorials of the past?"
"Come now, Colonel," cried Headingly, laughing, "surely you don't mean that they would shift the pyramids?"
