Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

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Chapter XLVI: A Midnight Cruise

If ever two men were completely cowed and broken down those two were the African merchants and his son. Wet, torn, and soiled, they still struggled on in their aimless flight, crashing through hedges...

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Chapter XLV: The Invasion of Hampshire

When Tom and the major arrived at Waterloo Station, the latter in the breathless condition described in a preceding chapter, they found the German waiting for them with his two fellow-exiles. The gentleman of...

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Chapter XLIV: The Shadow of Death

This conversation with Rebecca had suggested to Ezra that he might still have influence enough with his father’s ward to induce her to come out of doors, and so put herself within the reach...

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Chapter XLIII: The Bait on the Hook

The grey winter evening was beginning to steal in before the details had all been arranged by the conspirators. It had grown so chill that Kate had abandoned her attempt at gardening, and had...

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Chapter XLII: The Three Faces at the Window

Late in the afternoon Ezra arrived at the Priory. From one of the passage windows Kate saw him driving up the avenue in a high dog-cart. There was a broad-shouldered, red-bearded man sitting beside...

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Chapter XLI: The Clouds grow Darker

When Kate had made a clean breast of all her troubles to the widow Scully, and had secured that good woman’s co-operation, a great weight seemed to have been lifted from her heart, and...

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Chapter XL: The Major has a Letter

At four o’clock Mr. Girdlestone stepped into the Bedsworth telegraph office and wired his short message. It ran thus: “Case hopeless. Come on to-morrow with a doctor.” On receipt of this he knew by...

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Chapter XXXIX: A Gleam of Light

Kate Harston fled as quickly as she could through the wood, stumbling over the brambles and crashing through the briars, regardless of pain or scratches or anything else which could stand between her and...

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Chapter XXXVII: A Chase and a Brawl

It would be impossible to describe the suspense in which Tom Dimsdale lived during these weeks. In vain he tried in every manner to find some way of tracing the fugitives. He wandered aimlessly...