A E W Mason

Excerpt from Miranda of the Balcony: A Story Isaacs looked up in surprise. He had been wondering what had brought the little man out in this dress and on this morning. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

A novel of danger, romance, and adventure as mountain-climbers struggle to rescue a climber who has slipped on an enormous glacier. Newly designed and typeset in a modern 6-by-9-inch format by Waking Lion Press.

Mr. Twiss was a great walker, and it was his habit, after his day's work was done, to walk from his pleasant office in the Adelphi to his home at Hampstead. On an afternoon he was detained to a later hour than usual by one of his clients, a Captain Brayton, over some matter of a mortgage. Mr. Twiss looked at his office clock. "You are going west, I suppose?" he said. "I wonder if you would walk with me as far as Piccadilly? It will not be very much out of your way, and I have a reason for wishing your company." "By all means," replied Captain Brayton, and the two men set forth.

The picture hangs at my lodgings here at Avignon, a stone's throw from the Porte de la Ligne, and within the shadow of Notre Dame des Doms, though its intended housing-place was the great gallery of Blackladies. But it never did hang there, nor ever will; nor do I care that it should--no, not the scrape of a fiddle. I have heard men circumstanced like myself tell how, as they fell into years, more and more their thoughts flew homewards like so many carrier-pigeons, each with its message of longing. But Blackladies, though it was the only home I ever knew in England, did not of right belong to me, and the period during which I was master there was so populous with troubles, so chequered with the impertinent follies of an inexperienced youth raised of a sudden above his station, that even now, after all these years, I look back on it with a burning shame.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

"Yes. Collins, Barberton, and Vaughan went this winter. Well, we are all permanently shelved upon the world's half-pay list as it is. The obituary column is just the last formality which gazettes us out of the service altogether," and Sutch stretched out and eased his crippled leg, which fourteen years ago that day had been crushed and twisted in the fall of a scaling-ladder. "I am glad that you came before the others," continued Feversham. "I would like to take your opinion. This day is more to me than the anniversary of our attack upon the Redan. At the very moment when we were standing under arms in the dark-" "To the west of the quarries; I remember," interrupted Sutch, with a deep breath. "How should one forget?" "At that very moment Harry was born in this house. I thought, therefore, that if you did not object, he might join us to-night. He happens to be at home. He will, of course, enter the service, and he might learn something, perhaps, which afterward will be of use-one never knows.

Harry Feversham is a young officer in the British Guards, deeply in love with his fianc e Ethne, outwardly adventurous, but beset with a secret fear - that his courage will fail in combat. When orders come to embark for Sudan against the forces of the fanatical Mahdi, he resigns his commission. Shocked and disgusted, his three fellow-officers each send Harry a white feather - the symbol of cowardice. Worse yet, Ethne gives him a fourth, breaks off their engagement, and becomes engaged to Durrance, one of Harry's friends who was blinded during his time in Sudan. Humiliated past all endurance, Harry sets out alone for Sudan, intent on accomplishing a feat of arms that will wipe out his dishonor, or to die in the attempt. In doing so, he transforms not only his own character but that of his friends and his beloved. Set in the contrasting climes of Britain's green landscape and the unforgiving deserts of Sudan, 'The Four Feathers' is both a tale of high adventure and at the same time a study in human emotions and the different facets of love. This new Aziloth Books edition comes complete with additional footnotes, map, photographs and contemporary verse.

Alfred Edward Woodley Mason (Inglaterra, 1865-1948) es el nombre del autor. Hizo carrera militar, ocup ndose entre otras cosas en labores de inteligencia naval. Tentado alguna por la v a pol tica, se desempe como diputado durante un nico per odo. Adquiri bonita fama como autor de novelas, policiales las menos; la mayor a, seg n referencias, de fondo rom ntico-aventurero y dotada de una buena dosis de ambientaci n ex tica.

The Broken Road, one of two books by the author set in British India. It is an exciting adventure story involving the Indian Army, Rajas and secret agents. It was the Road which caused the trouble. It usually is the road. That and a reigning prince who was declared by his uncle secretly to have sold his country to the British, and a half-crazed priest from out beyond the borders of Afghanistan, who sat on a slab of stone by the river-bank and preached a djehad. But above all it was the road-Linforth's road. It came winding down from the passes, over slopes of shale; it was built with wooden galleries along the precipitous sides of cliffs; it snaked treacherously further and further across the rich valley of Chiltistan towards the Hindu Kush, until the people of that valley could endure it no longer. Then suddenly from Peshawur the wires began to flash their quiet and ominous messages.