The Mark Of Cain E-Book

Andrew Lang

• Herausgeber: Andrew Lang
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

"...The foul and foggy night of early February was descending, some weeks after the scene in the Cockpit, on the river and the town. Night was falling from the heavens; or rather, night seemed to be rising from the earth—steamed up, black, from the dingy trampled snow of the streets, and from the vapors that swam above the squalid houses. There was coal-smoke and a taste of lucifer matches in the air. In the previous night there had been such a storm as London seldom sees; the powdery, flying snow had been blown for many hours before a tyrannous northeast gale, and had settled down, like dust in a neglected chamber, over every surface of the city. Drifts and "snow-wreathes," as northern folk say, were lying in exposed places, in squares and streets, as deep as they lie when sheep are "smoored" on the sides of Sundhope or Penchrist in the desolate Border-land. All day London had been struggling under her cold winding-sheet, like a feeble, feverish patient trying to throw off a heavy white counterpane. Now the counterpane was dirty enough. The pavements were three inches deep in a rich greasy deposit of mud and molten ice. Above the round glass or iron coverings of coal-cellars the foot-passengers slipped, "ricked" their backs, and swore as they stumbled, if they did not actually fall down, in the filth..."

Leseprobe

Andrew Lang

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Table of contents

CHAPTER I.—A Tale of Two Clubs.

CHAPTER II.—In the Snow.

CHAPTER III.—An Academic Pothouse.

CHAPTER IV.—Miss Marlett's.

CHAPTER V.—Flown.

CHAPTER VI.—At St. Gatien's.

CHAPTER VII.—After the Inquest.

CHAPTER VIII.—The Jaffa Oranges.

CHAPTER IX.—Mrs. St. John Deloraine

CHAPTER X.—Traps.

CHAPTER XI.—The Night of Adventures.

CHAPTER XII.—A Patient.

CHAPTER XIII.—Another Patient.

CHAPTER XIV.—Found.

CHAPTER XV.—The Mark of Cain.

CHAPTER XVI.—The Verdict of Fate.

EPILOGUE.

CHAPTER I.—A Tale of Two Clubs.

"Such arts the gods who dwell on high     Have given to the Greek."—Lays of Ancient Rome.In the Strangers' Room of the Olympic Club the air was thick with tobacco-smoke, and, despite the bitter cold outside, the temperature was uncomfortably high. Dinner was over, and the guests, broken up into little groups, were chattering noisily. No one had yet given any sign of departing: no one had offered a welcome apology for the need of catching an evening train.Perhaps the civilized custom which permits women to dine in the presence of the greedier sex is the proudest conquest of Culture. Were it not for the excuse of "joining the ladies," dinner-parties (Like the congregations in Heaven, as described in the hymn) would "ne'er break up," and suppers (like Sabbaths, on the same authority) would never end."Hang it all, will the fellows never go?"So thought Maitland, of St. Gatien's, the founder of the feast. The inhospitable reflections which we have recorded had all been passing through his brain as he rather moodily watched the twenty guests he had been feeding—one can hardly say entertaining. It was a "duty dinner" he had been giving—almost everything Maitland did was done from a sense of duty—yet he scarcely appeared to be reaping the reward of an approving conscience. His acquaintances, laughing and gossipping round the half-empty wine-glasses, the olives, the scattered fruit, and "the ashes of the weeds of their delight," gave themselves no concern about the weary host. Even at his own party, as in life generally, Maitland felt like an outsider. He wakened from his reverie as a strong hand was laid lightly on his shoulder."Well, Maitland," said a man sitting down beside him, "what have you been doing this long time?""What have I been doing, Barton?" Maitland answered. "Oh, I have been reflecting on the choice of a life, and trying to humanize myself! Bielby says I have not enough human nature.""Bielby is quite right; he is the most judicious of college dons and father-confessors, old man. And how long do you mean to remain his pupil and penitent? And how is the pothouse getting on?"