A Bid for Fortune; Or, Dr. Nikola's Vendetta. Guy Boothby
Читать онлайн.| Название | A Bid for Fortune; Or, Dr. Nikola's Vendetta |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Guy Boothby |
| Жанр | Языкознание |
| Серия | |
| Издательство | Языкознание |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 4057664584090 |
Guy Boothby
A Bid for Fortune; Or, Dr. Nikola's Vendetta
Published by Good Press, 2019
EAN 4057664584090
Table of Contents
I DETERMINE TO TAKE A HOLIDAY.—SYDNEY, AND WHAT BEFEL ME THERE
PORT SAID, AND WHAT BEFEL US THERE
OUR IMPRISONMENT AND ATTEMPT AT ESCAPE
DR. NIKOLA PERMITS US A FREE PASSAGE
WE REACH AUSTRALIA, AND THE RESULT
THE ISLANDS, AND WHAT WE FOUND THERE
A BID FOR FORTUNE
PART I
PROLOGUE
DR. NIKOLA
The manager of the new Imperial Restaurant on the Thames Embankment went into his luxurious private office and shut the door. Having done so, he first scratched his chin reflectively, and then took a letter from the drawer in which it had reposed for more than two months and perused it carefully. Though he was not aware of it, this was the thirtieth time he had read it since breakfast that morning. And yet he was not a whit nearer understanding it than he had been at the beginning. He turned it over and scrutinized the back, where not a sign of writing was to be seen; he held it up to the window, as if he might hope to discover something from the water-mark; but there was nothing in either of these places of a nature calculated to set his troubled mind at rest. Then he took a magnificent repeater watch from his waistcoat pocket and glanced at the dial; the hands stood at half-past seven. He immediately threw the letter on the table, and as he did so his anxiety found relief in words.
"It's really the most extraordinary affair I ever had to do with," he remarked. "And as I've been in the business just three-and-thirty years at eleven a.m. next Monday morning, I ought to know something about it. I only hope I've done right, that's all."
As he spoke, the chief bookkeeper, who had the treble advantage of being tall, pretty, and just eight-and-twenty years of age, entered the room. She noticed the open letter and the look upon her chief's face, and her curiosity was proportionately excited.
"You seem worried, Mr. McPherson," she said tenderly, as she put down the papers she had brought in for his signature.
"You have just hit it, Miss O'Sullivan," he answered, pushing them farther on to the table. "I am worried about many things, but particularly about this letter."
He handed the epistle to her,