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    A Strange Story — Volume 05
    A Strange Story — Volume 05
    A Strange Story — Volume 05
    Ebook96 pages1 hour

    A Strange Story — Volume 05

    By Edward Bulwer Lytton

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    About this ebook

    Edward Bulwer-Lytton was a well known English novelist in the 19th century, and he's been immortalized for coining famous phrases like  "pursuit of the almighty dollar" and "the pen is mightier than the sword".


    In addition to being a politician, he wrote across all genres, from horror stories to historical fiction and action titles.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherKrill Press
    Release dateDec 24, 2015
    ISBN9781518344725
    A Strange Story — Volume 05
    Author

    Edward Bulwer Lytton

    Edward Bulwer-Lytton, engl. Romanschriftsteller und Politiker, ist bekannt geworden durch seine populären historischen/metaphysischen und unvergleichlichen Romane wie „Zanoni“, „Rienzi“, „Die letzten Tage von Pompeji“ und „Das kommende Geschlecht“. Ihm wird die Mitgliedschaft in der sagenumwobenen Gemeinschaft der Rosenkreuzer nachgesagt. 1852 wurde er zum Kolonialminister von Großbritannien ernannt.

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      Book preview

      A Strange Story — Volume 05 - Edward Bulwer Lytton

      A STRANGE STORY — VOLUME 05

      ..................

      Edward Bulwer-Lytton

      YURITA PRESS

      Thank you for reading. In the event that you appreciate this book, please consider sharing the good word(s) by leaving a review, or connect with the author.

      This book is a work of fiction; its contents are wholly imagined.

      All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.

      Copyright © 2015 by Edward Bulwer-Lytton

      Interior design by Pronoun

      Distribution by Pronoun

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      CHAPTER XLI.

      CHAPTER XLII.

      CHAPTER XLIII.

      CHAPTER XLIV.

      CHAPTER XLV.

      CHAPTER XLVI.

      CHAPTER XLVII.

      CHAPTER XLVIII.

      CHAPTER XLIX.

      CHAPTER L.

      CHAPTER LI.

      CHAPTER LII.

      A Strange Story — Volume 05

      By

      Edward Bulwer-Lytton

      A Strange Story — Volume 05

      Published by Yurita Press

      New York City, NY

      First published circa 1873

      Copyright © Yurita Press, 2015

      All rights reserved

      Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

      About Krill Press

      Krill Press is a boutique publishing company run by people who are passionate about history’s greatest works. We strive to republish the best books ever written across every conceivable genre and making them easily and cheaply available to readers across the world. Please visit our site for more information.

      CHAPTER XLI.

      ..................

      THE LAWYER CAME THE NEXT day, and with something like a smile on his lips. He brought me a few lines in pencil from Mrs. Ashleigh; they were kindly expressed, bade me be of good cheer; she never for a moment believed in my guilt; Lilian bore up wonderfully under so terrible a trial; it was an unspeakable comfort to both to receive the visits of a friend so attached to me, and so confident of a triumphant refutation of the hideous calumny under which I now suffered as Mr. Margrave!

      The lawyer had seen Margrave again,—seen him in that house. Margrave seemed almost domiciled there!

      I remained sullen and taciturn during this visit. I longed again for the night. Night came. I heard the distant clock strike twelve, when again the icy wind passed through my hair, and against the wall stood the luminous Shadow.

      Have you considered? whispered the voice, still as from afar. I repeat it,—I alone can save you.

      Is it among the conditions which you ask, in return, that I shall resign to you the woman I love?

      No.

      Is it one of the conditions that I should commit some crime,—a crime perhaps heinous as that of which I am accused?

      No.

      With such reservations, I accept the conditions you may name, provided I, in my turn, may demand one condition from yourself.

      Name it.

      I ask you to quit this town. I ask you, meanwhile, to cease your visits to the house that holds the woman betrothed to me.

      I will cease those visits. And before many days are over, I will quit this town.

      Now, then, say what you ask from me. I am prepared to concede it. And not from fear for myself, but because I fear for the pure and innocent being who is under the spell of your deadly fascination. This is your power over me. You command me through my love for another. Speak.

      My conditions are simple. You will pledge yourself to desist from all charges of insinuation against myself, of what nature soever. You will not, when you meet me in the flesh, refer to what you have known of my likeness in the Shadow. You will be invited to the house at which I may be also a guest; you will come; you will meet and converse with me as guest speaks with guest in the house of a host.

      Is that all?

      It is all.

      Then I pledge you my faith; keep your own.

      Fear not; sleep secure in the certainty that you will soon be released from these walls.

      The Shadow waned and faded. Darkness settled back, and a sleep, profound and calm, fell over me.

      The next day Mr. Stanton again visited me. He had received that morning a note from Mr. Margrave, stating that he had left L—— to pursue, in person, an investigation which he had already commenced through another, affecting the man who had given evidence against me, and that, if his hope should prove well founded, he trusted to establish my innocence, and convict the real murderer of Sir Philip Derval. In the research he thus volunteered, he had asked for, and obtained, the assistance of the policeman Waby, who, grateful to me for saving the life of his sister, had expressed a strong desire to be employed in my service.

      Meanwhile, my most cruel assailant was my old college friend, Richard Strahan. For Jeeves had spread abroad Strahan’s charge of purloining the memoir which had been entrusted to me; and that accusation had done me great injury in public opinion, because it seemed to give probability to the only motive which ingenuity could ascribe to the foul deed imputed to me. That motive had been first suggested by Mr. Vigors. Cases are on record of men whose life had been previously blameless, who have committed a crime which seemed to belie their nature, in the monomania of some intense desire. In Spain, a scholar reputed of austere morals murdered and robbed a traveller for money in order to purchase books,—books written, too, by Fathers of his Church! He was intent on solving some problem of theological casuistry. In France, an antiquary, esteemed not more for his learning than for amiable and gentle qualities, murdered his most intimate friend for the possession of a medal, without which his own collection was incomplete. These, and similar anecdotes, tending to prove how fatally any vehement desire, morbidly cherished, may suspend the normal operations of reason and conscience, were whispered about by Dr. Lloyd’s vindictive partisan; and the inference drawn from them and applied to the assumptions against myself was the more credulously received, because of that over-refining speculation on motive and act which the shallow accept, in their eagerness to show how readily they understand the profound.

      I was known to be fond of scientific, especially of chemical experiments; to be eager in testing the truth of any novel invention. Strahan, catching hold of the magistrate’s fantastic hypothesis, went about repeating anecdotes of the absorbing passion for analysis and discovery which had characterized me in youth as a medical student, and to which, indeed, I owed the precocious reputation I had obtained.

      Sir Philip Derval, according not only to report, but to the direct testimony of his servant, had acquired in the course of his travels many secrets in natural science, especially as connected with the healing art,—his servant had deposed to the remarkable cures he had effected by the medicinals stored in the stolen casket. Doubtless Sir Philip, in boasting of these medicinals in the course of our conversation, had excited my curiosity, inflamed my imagination; and thus

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