William Le Queux: 261 books

A MOVE ON THE “FORTY” In Paris, in Rome, in Florence, in Berlin, in Vienna—in fact, over half the face of Europe, from the Pyrenees to the Russian frontier—I am now known as “The Count’s Chauffeur.” An Englishman, as my name George Ewart denotes, I am of cosmopolitan birth and education,...

Ali Ben Hafiz. The adventure was strange, the mystery inexplicable. A blazing noontide in the month of Moharram. Away across the barren desert to the distant horizon nothing met the aching eye but a dreary waste of burning red-brown sand under a cloudless sky shining like burnished copper. Not an object...

”Of course the transaction is a purely private one. There is, I suppose, no chance of the truth leaking out? If so, it might be very awkward, you know.” „None whatever. Your Excellency may rely upon me to deal with these people cautiously. Besides, they have their own reputation to consider–as...

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.

In order to ease my conscience and, further, to disclose certain facts which for the past year or two have, I know, greatly puzzled readers of our daily newspapers, I have decided to here reveal some very curious and, perhaps, sensational circumstances. In fact, after much perplexity and long consideration,...

I AM fully aware, my dear Lanner-Brown, that after my death, when you open these pages, you will be greatly shocked. The skeleton which for many years has been locked so securely in my cupboard, and which I now at last have courage to reveal, will, I know, stagger you. I, Archibald More d'Escombe, have...

"A remarkable story, crowded with the most exciting situations, and bristling with crimes which only the brain of a most versatile author could conceive."

Concerns a Proposal of Marriage. “Then you really don’t intend to marry me, Wilfrid?” “The honour of being your husband, Tibbie, I must respectfully decline,” I said. “But I’d make you a very quiet, sociable wife, you know. I can ride to hounds, cook, sew clothes for old people, and drive a motor. What higher qualifications do you want?” “Well—love, for instance

"See! It's-it's in my kit-bag, over there! The thing-the Thing at which the whole world will stand aghast!" The thin, white-faced, grey-bearded man lying on his back in bed roused himself with difficulty, and with skinny finger pointed at his strong but battered old leather bag lying in the corner of the small hotel bedroom...

Aliens. “One fact is plain. Vittorina must not come to England.” “Why? She, a mere inexperienced girl, knows nothing.” “Her presence here will place us in serious jeopardy. If she really intends to visit London, then I shall leave this country at once. I scent danger.” “As far as I can...

“Do you know a Mr Smithson, Gwen?” Sir Charles Thorold asked his wife abruptly as he stood astride before the big fire in the hall. “Smithson?” Lady Thorold answered as she poured out the tea. “No. Who is he?” “I have no idea. Never heard of him.” Then, addressing the butler, Sir Charles...

Zertho. “No, Zertho. You forget that Liane is my daughter, the daughter of Brooker of the Guards, once an officer, and still, I hope, a gentleman.” “Gentleman!” sneered the other with a curl of his lip. Erle Brooker shrugged his shoulders, but did not reply. “Yet many women would be eager enough...

An extravagant tale of political schemers. The hero, an Italian violinist, finds himself, after a phenomenal rise to success, placed in high society in the Russian court of Alexander III and used in a counter-plot to foil a design against the Czar's life. He succeeds and wins a charming russian princess.

A State Secret. “Have those urgent dispatches come in from Berlin, Deedes?” “Captain Hammerton has not yet arrived,” I answered. “Eleven o’clock! Tut, tut! Every moment’s delay means greater risk,” and the Earl of Warnham, Her Majesty’s Principal Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs,...