E. Phillips Oppenheim was a popular 20th century writer best known for penning suspenseful thriller novels like The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown. Many of his more than 100 novels are still read today.
E. Phillips Oppenheim was a popular 20th century writer best known for penning suspenseful thriller novels like The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown. Many of his more than 100 novels are still read today.
There was a little murmur of regret amongst the five hundred and eighty-seven saloon passengers on board the steamship Lusitania, mingled, perhaps, with a few expressions of a more violent character. After several hours of doubt, the final verdict had at last been pronounced. They had missed the tide, and no attempt was to be made to land passengers that night. Already the engines had ceased to throb, the period of unnatural quietness had commenced. Slowly, and without noticeable motion, the great liner swung round a little in the river.
A small tug, which had been hovering about for some time, came screaming alongside. There was a hiss from its wave-splashed deck, and a rocket with a blue light flashed up into the sky. A man who had formed one of the long line of passengers, leaning over the rail, watching the tug since it had come into sight, now turned away and walked briskly to the steps leading to the bridge. As it happened, the captain himself was in the act of descending. The passenger accosted him, and held out what seemed to be a letter.
"Captain Goodfellow," he said, "I should be glad if you would glance at the contents of that note."
The captain, who had just finished a long discussion with the pilot and was not in the best of humor, looked a little surprised.
"What, now?" he asked.
"If you please," was the quiet answer. "The matter is urgent."
"Who are you?" the captain asked.
"My name is Hamilton Fynes," the other answered. "I am a saloon passenger on board your ship, although my name does not appear in the list. That note has been in my pocket since we left New York, to deliver to you in the event of a certain contingency happening."
"The contingency being?" the captain asked, tearing open the envelope and moving a little nearer the electric light which shone out from the smoking room.
"That the Lusitania did not land her passengers this evening."
The captain read the note, examined the signature carefully, and whistled softly to himself.
"You know what is inside this?" he asked, looking into his companion's face with some curiosity.
"Certainly," was the brief reply.
"Your name is Mr. Hamilton Fynes, the Mr. Hamilton Fynes mentioned in this letter?"
"That is so," the passenger admitted.
The captain nodded.
"Well," he said, "you had better get down on the lower deck, port side. By the bye, have you any friends with you?"
"I am quite alone," he answered.
"So much the better," the captain declared. "Don't tell any one that you are going ashore if you can help it."
"I certainly will not, sir," the other answered. "Thank you very much."
"Of course, you know that you can't take your luggage with you?" the captain remarked.
"That is of no consequence at all, sir," Mr. Hamilton Fynes answered. "I will leave instructions for my trunk to be sent on after me. I have all that I require, for the moment, in this suitcase."
The captain blew his whistle. Mr. Hamilton Fynes made his way quietly to the lower deck, which was almost deserted. In a very few minutes he was joined by half a dozen sailors, dragging a rope ladder. The little tug came screaming around, and before any of the passengers on the deck above had any idea of what was happening, Mr. Hamilton Fynes was on board the Anna Maria, and on his way down the river, seated in a small, uncomfortable cabin, lit by a single oil lamp.
No one spoke more than a casual word to him from the moment he stepped to the deck until the short journey was at an end. He was shown at once into the cabin, the door of which he closed without a moment's delay. A very brief examination of the interior convinced him that he was indeed alone. Thereupon he seated himself with his back to the wall and his face to the door, and finding an English newspaper on the table, read it until they reached the docks. Arrived there, he exchanged a civil good-night with the captain, and handed a sovereign to the seaman who held his bag while he disembarked.
For several minutes after he had stepped on to the wooden platform, Mr. Hamilton Fynes showed no particular impatience to continue his journey. He stood in the shadow of one of the sheds, looking about him with quick furtive glances, as though anxious to assure himself that there was no one around who was taking a noticeable interest in his movements. Having satisfied himself at length upon this point, he made his way to the London and North Western Railway Station, and knocked at the door of the station-master's office. The station-master was busy, and although Mr. Hamilton Fynes had the appearance of a perfectly respectable transatlantic man of business, there was nothing about his personality remarkably striking,-nothing, at any rate, to inspire an unusual amount of respect.
"You wished to see me, sir?" the official asked, merely glancing up from the desk at which he was sitting with a pile of papers before him.
Mr. Hamilton Fynes leaned over the wooden counter which separated him from the interior of the office. Before he spoke, he glanced around as though to make sure that he had not forgotten to close the door.
"I require a special train to London as quickly as possible," he announced. "I should be glad if you could let me have one within half an hour, at any rate."
The station-master rose to his feet.
"Quite impossible, sir," he declared a little brusquely. "Absolutely out of the question!"
"May I ask why it is out of the question?" Mr. Hamilton Fynes inquired.
"In the first place," the station-master answered, "a special train to London would cost you a hundred and eighty pounds, and in the second place, even if you were willing to pay that sum, it would be at least two hours before I could start you off. We could not possibly disorganize the whole of our fast traffic. The ordinary mail train leaves here at midnight with sleeping-cars."
Mr. Hamilton Fynes held out a letter which he had produced from his breast pocket, and which was, in appearance, very similar to the one which he had presented, a short time ago, to the captain of the Lusitania.
"Perhaps you will kindly read this," he said. "I am perfectly willing to pay the hundred and eighty pounds."
The station-master tore open the envelope and read the few lines contained therein. His manner underwent at once a complete change, very much as the manner of the captain of the Lusitania had done. He took the letter over to his green-shaded writing lamp, and examined the signature carefully. When he returned, he looked at Mr. Hamilton Fynes curiously. There was, however, something more than curiosity in his glance. There was also respect.
"I will give this matter my personal attention at once, Mr. Fynes," he said, lifting the flap of the counter and coming out. "Do you care to come inside and wait in my private office?"
"Thank you," Mr. Hamilton Fynes answered; "I will walk up and down the platform."
"There is a refreshment room just on the left," the station-master remarked, ringing violently at a telephone. "I dare say we shall get you off in less than half an hour. We will do our best, at any rate. It's an awkward time just now to command an absolutely clear line, but if we can once get you past Crewe you'll be all right. Shall we fetch you from the refreshment room when we are ready?"
"If you please," the intending passenger answered.
Mr. Hamilton Fynes discovered that place of entertainment without difficulty, ordered for himself a cup of coffee and a sandwich, and drew a chair close up to the small open fire, taking care, however, to sit almost facing the only entrance to the room. He laid his hat upon the counter, close to which he had taken up his position, and smoothed back with his left hand his somewhat thick black hair. He was a man, apparently of middle age, of middle height, clean-shaven, with good but undistinguished features, dark eyes, very clear and very bright, which showed, indeed, but little need of the pince-nez which hung by a thin black cord from his neck. His hat, low in the crown and of soft gray felt, would alone have betrayed his nationality. His clothes, however, were also American in cut. His boots were narrow and of unmistakable shape. He ate his sandwich with suspicion, and after his first sip of coffee ordered a whiskey and soda. Afterwards he sat leaning back in his chair, glancing every now and then at the clock, but otherwise manifesting no signs of impatience. In less than half an hour an inspector, cap in hand, entered the room and announced that everything was ready. Mr. Hamilton Fynes put on his hat, picked up his suitcase, and followed him on to the platform. A long saloon carriage, with a guard's brake behind and an engine in front, was waiting there.
"We've done our best, sir," the station-master remarked with a note of self-congratulation in his tone. "It's exactly twenty-two minutes since you came into the office, and there she is. Finest engine we've got on the line, and the best driver. You've a clear road ahead too. Wish you a pleasant journey, sir."
"You are very good, sir," Mr. Hamilton Fynes declared. "I am sure that my friends on the other side will appreciate your attention. By what time do you suppose that we shall reach London?"
The station-master glanced at the clock.
"It is now eight o'clock, sir," he announced. "If my orders down the line are properly attended to, you should be there by twenty minutes to twelve."
Mr. Hamilton Fynes nodded gravely and took his seat in the car. He had previously walked its entire length and back again.
"The train consists only of this carriage?" he asked. "There is no other passenger, for instance, travelling in the guard's brake?"
"Certainly not, sir," the station-master declared. "Such a thing would be entirely against the regulations. There are five of you, all told, on board,-driver, stoker, guard, saloon attendant, and yourself."
Mr. Hamilton Fynes nodded, and appeared satisfied.
"No more luggage, sir?" the guard asked.
"I was obliged to leave what I had, excepting this suitcase, upon the steamer," Mr. Hamilton Fynes explained. "I could not very well expect them to get my trunk up from the hold. It will follow me to the hotel tomorrow."
"You will find that the attendant has light refreshments on board, sir, if you should be wanting anything," the station-master announced. "We'll start you off now, then. Good-night, sir!"
Mr. Fynes nodded genially.
"Good-night, Station-master!" he said. "Many thanks to you."
Sign up or sign in to see availability for your saved libraries at a glance. In this tale of espionage set during World War I Britain, we encounter a variety of characters. Surgeon-Major General Hugh Thomson, the works apparent antagonist, who is endeavoring to clear the British troops of spies. He is on the trail of a German master spy who seems to be able to travel across the lines and back and forth between Germany and England. Captain Granet is a wounded war hero recently awarded the DSO and recovering after having been captured twice and escaping twice from the Germans. From an encounter with Captain Ronald Granet at Granet's aunt's luncheon, Thomson begins to feel suspicion toward him. But is this only due to Granet's interest in Thomson's girl, Geraldine Conyers?
Edward Phillips Oppenheim (1866-1946), was an English novelist, in his lifetime a major and successful writer of genre fiction including thrillers. Featured on the cover of Time magazine in 1918, he was the self-styled "prince of storytellers." He composed more than a hundred novels, mostly of the suspense and international intrigue nature, as well as romances, comedies, and parables of everyday life. Perhaps Oppenheim's most enduring creation is the character of General Besserley, the protagonist of General Besserley's Puzzle Box and General Besserley's New Puzzle Box (one of his last works). His work possesses a unique charm, featuring protagonists who delight in Epicurean meals, surroundings of intense luxury, and the relaxed pursuit of criminal practice, on either side of the law. His first novel was about England and Canada, called Expiation (1887); followed by such titles as The Betrayal (1904), The Avenger (1907), The Governors (1908), The Double Life of Mr. Alfred Burton (1913), An Amiable Charlatan (1915), The Black Box (1915), The Double Traitor (1915), The Cinema Murder (1917), The Box with Broken Seals (1919), The Devil's Paw (1920) and The Evil Shepherd (1922).
It was a few minutes after one o'clock—the busiest hour of the day at the most popular bar in London. The usual little throng of Americans, journalists, men of business and loiterers, were occupying their accustomed chairs in one corner of the long, green-carpeted room. Around the bar, would-be customers were crowded three or four deep—many of them stalwart Canadians in khaki, making the most of their three days' leave, and a thin sprinkling of men about town on their way to lunch in the grill-room adjoining.
Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past. On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse. But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened. Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation. *** Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail. But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world."
Years ago, Cathy's husband threw himself into danger to save her. Then fate cut the cord-after the accident, he remembered everyone but the woman he'd once died for. On their third anniversary, he betrayed her, and that night she signed the divorce. Freed, she dusted off her hidden brilliance: miracle healer, racing legend, elite hacker, visionary designer. When his memories roared back, regret did, too. He stormed her wedding, pleading, "Cathy, please, one more chance!" But a certain trillionaire held her close and huffed, "Honey, someone's asking for trouble."
Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."
Two years after her marriage, Ximena lost consciousness in a pool of her own blood during a difficult childbirth. She forgot that her ex-husband was actually getting married to someone else that day. "Let's get a divorce, but the baby stays with me." His words before their divorce was finalized still lingered in her head. He wasn't there for her, but he wanted full custody of their child. Ximena would rather die than see her child call someone else mother. As a result, she gave up the ghost on the operating table with two babies left in her belly. But that wasn't the end for her... Years later, fate caused them to meet again. Ramon was a changed man this time. He wanted to keep her to himself even though she was already a mother of two children. When he found out about her wedding, he stormed into the venue and created a scene. "Ramon, I died once before, so I don't mind dying again. But this time, I want us to die together," she yelled, glaring at him with hurt in her eyes. Ximena thought he didn't love her and was happy that she was finally out of his life. But what she didn't know was that the news of her unexpected death had shattered his heart. For a long time, he cried alone due to the pain and agony. He always wished he could turn back the hands of time or see her beautiful face once again. The drama that came later became too much for Ximena. Her life was filled with twists and turns. Soon, she was torn between getting back with her ex-husband or moving on with her life. What would she choose?
THEY COULDN'T BE TOGETHER AT THE START. ARE THEY DESTINED TO STAY APART UNTIL THE END? She's the heir to the throne, yet her heart is calling after something else... Princess Reida's academic pursuit takes her on a journey to Incanta – a world inhabited by witches, wizards, dragon shifters, wraiths, and irascibles. While her mind is broadened and mystified just as she'd hoped, developing feelings for a certain wizard was not part of her plan, especially not when he is her professor. He's no stranger to injustice, but the biggest one may be his undoing... Professor Theodore Ischyrós is ambitious and accomplished in a way few beings are. He keeps his past close at all times and has learned to mistrust and doubt almost everyone. The moment he laid eyes on her he knew he'd been struck by magic. The moment she began speaking he knew he was done for. He's determined to keep professional lines clear until she graduated. But when that day comes, would she be available for him to pursue? She's a princess – the heir to the lycan throne, and his best friend's cousin. And things only get worse when the heir to Incanta's throne seems to be after her hand as well. Will Theodore be able to convince Reida to choose him, or are they destined to stay behind professional lines forever, being within reach but never together? This is BOOK FOUR of the series but can be read as a standalone. *** BOOK ONE: The 5-Time Rejected Gamma & the Lycan King BOOK TWO: The Rogues Who Went Rogue BOOK THREE: The Indomitable Huntress & the Hardened Duke
Hidden for years by the state despite a fortune worth billions, Grace bounced through three foster homes. At her fourth stop, the wealthy Holden family showered her with care, sparking spiteful claims she was a despicable grifter. Those lies died when a university president greeted her. "Professor, your lab's ready." A top CEO presented a folder. "Boss, our profits soared by 300% this year!" An international hacker organization came to her doorstep. "The financial market would crash without you!" Colton, a mysterious tycoon, pinned her softly. "Fun's over. Let's go make some babies." Grace's cheeks flared. "I didn't agree to that!" He slid a black card into her hand. "One island per baby."
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