Leaning back in my chair, I smoked my morning cigar and watched Uncle Nelson open his mail. He had an old-fashioned way of doing this: holding the envelope in his left hand, clipping its right edge with his desk shears, and then removing the inclosure and carefully reading it before he returned it to its original envelope. Across one end he would make a memorandum of the contents, after which the letters were placed in a neat pile.
Leaning back in my chair, I smoked my morning cigar and watched Uncle Nelson open his mail. He had an old-fashioned way of doing this: holding the envelope in his left hand, clipping its right edge with his desk shears, and then removing the inclosure and carefully reading it before he returned it to its original envelope. Across one end he would make a memorandum of the contents, after which the letters were placed in a neat pile.
As I watched him methodically working, Uncle Nelson raised a large blue envelope, clipped its end, and read the inclosure with an appearance of unusual interest. Then, instead of adding it to the letters before him, he laid it aside; and a few minutes later reverted to it again, giving the letter a second careful perusal. Deeply musing, for a time he sat motionless in his 10chair. Then, arousing himself from his deep abstraction, he cast a fleeting glance in my direction and composedly resumed his task.
I knew Uncle Nelson's habits so well that this affair of the blue envelope told me plainly the communication was of unusual importance. Yet the old gentleman calmly continued his work until every letter the mail contained was laid in a pile before him and fully docketed. With the last he suddenly swung around in his chair and faced me.
"Robert," said he, "how would you like to go to Brazil?"
Lacking a ready answer to this blunt question I simply stared at him.
"De Pintra has written me," he continued-"do you know of Dom Miguel de Pintra?" I shook my head. "He is one of the oldest customers of the house. His patronage assisted us in getting established. We are under deep obligations to de Pintra."
"I do not remember seeing his name upon the books," I said, thoughtfully.
11"No; before you came into the firm he had retired from business-for he is a wealthy man. But I believe this retirement has been bad for him. His energetic nature would not allow him to remain idle, and he has of late substituted politics for business."
"That is not so bad," I remarked, lightly. "Some people make a business of politics, and often it proves a fairly successful one."
My uncle nodded.
"Here in New Orleans, yes," he acknowledged; "but things are vastly different in Brazil. I am sorry to say that Dom Miguel is a leader of the revolutionists."
"Ah," said I, impressed by his grave tone. And I added: "I have supposed that Dom Pedro is secure upon his throne, and personally beloved by his subjects."
"He is doubtless secure enough," returned Uncle Nelson, dryly, "but, although much respected by his people, there is, I believe, serious opposition to an imperial form of government. Rebellions have been numerous during his reign. Indeed, these 12people of Brazil seem rapidly becoming republicans in principle, and it is to establish a republican form of government that my friend de Pintra has placed himself at the head of a conspiracy."
"Good for de Pintra!" I cried, heartily.
"No, no; it is bad," he rejoined, with a frown. "There is always danger in opposing established monarchies, and in this case the Emperor of Brazil has the countenance of both Europe and America."
As I ventured no reply to this he paused, and again regarded me earnestly.
"I believe you are the very person, Robert, I should send de Pintra. He wishes me to secure for him a secretary whom he may trust implicitly. At present, he writes me, he is surrounded by the emperor's spies. Even the members of his own household may be induced to betray him. Indeed, I imagine my old friend in a very hot-bed of intrigue and danger. Yet he believes he could trust an American who has no partiality for monarchies and no inducement to sympathize with any party but his own. Will you go, Robert?"
13The question, abrupt though it was, did not startle me. Those accustomed to meet Nelson Harcliffe's moods must think quickly. Still, I hesitated.
"Can you spare me, Uncle?"
"Not very well," he admitted. "You have relieved me of many of the tedious details of business since you came home from college. But, for de Pintra's sake, I am not only willing you should go, but I ask you, as a personal favor, to hasten to Rio and serve my friend faithfully, protecting him, so far as you may be able, from the dangers he is facing. You will find him a charming fellow-a noble man, indeed-and he needs just such a loyal assistant as I believe you will prove. Will you go, Robert?"
Uncle Nelson's sudden proposal gave me a thrill of eager interest best explained by that fascinating word "danger." Five minutes before I would have smiled at the suggestion that I visit a foreign country on so quixotic an errand; but the situation was, after all, as simple as it was sudden in development, and my uncle's earnest voice 14and eyes emphasized his request in no uncertain manner. Would I go? Would I, a young man on the threshold of life, with pulses readily responding to the suggestion of excitement and adventure, leave my humdrum existence in a mercantile establishment to mingle in the intrigues of a nation striving to cast off the shackles of a monarchy and become free and independent? My answer was assured.
Nevertheless, we Harcliffes are chary of exhibiting emotion. Any eagerness on my part would, I felt, have seriously displeased my reserved and deliberate uncle. Therefore I occupied several minutes in staring thoughtfully through the open window before I finally swung around in my chair and answered:
"Yes, Uncle, I will go."
"Thank you," said he, a flush of pleasure spreading over his fine old face. Then he turned again to the letter in the blue envelope. "The Castina sails on Wednesday, I see, and Dom Miguel wishes his new secretary to go on her. Therefore you 15must interview Captain Lertine at once, and arrange for passage."
"Very well, sir."
I took my hat, returned my uncle's grave bow, and left the office.
This Housemartin Classics edition includes the full original text as well as an easy to use interactive table of contents.
Through the whole of the night, chopping, shifting winds had been tearing through the streets of London, now from the north, now from the south, now from the east, now from the west, now from all points of the compass at once; which last caprice--taking place for at least the twentieth time in the course of the hour which the bells of Big Ben were striking--was enough in itself to make the policeman on the beat doubtful of his senses.
Endless caresses, endless kisses. Clinging to him as if her life depended on it, her body ached for more and she arched into the touch to receive more, more pleasure. "Oh darling, you taste so delicious, I can't get enough." He rubbed himself against her, telling her how much he wanted her, his deep, gruff voice resonating in her head. Her body also desired him. "Come for me, baby," He gave the order, and her body obeyed, following his command. "No!" she yelled, opening her eyes abruptly. Feeling confused and guilty, she gasped and sat up in bed. Scarlett's life takes an unexpected when she discovers that she is pregnant by a stranger with whom she had a one-night stand. She was humiliated and disowned by her parents. She ran away from the pack to start a new life. Will Scarlett find her way back to the father of her kids? What happens when he finds her and does everything possible to make her his? Will they scale through the challenges that life would throw at them? ***** Scarlett wakes up in bed with a stranger and doesn't even remember how she got there. She later discovers that the man she spent that night with was the Lycan King.
During her three years of marriage with Brendan, Adeline had become as humble as dust itself. However, what she got in return wasn't love and affection, but endless indifference and disdain. Worse yet, when the woman in Brendan's heart suddenly showed up, he further distanced himself from her. Finally, Adeline couldn't stand it anymore and asked for a divorce. After all, why should she stay with such a cold, distant man? The next one would surely be better. Brendan watched as his ex-wife left with her luggage in tow. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he made a bet with his friends. "She'll definitely regret leaving and will come crawling back to me in no time." After hearing about this bet, Adeline sneered. "Dream on!" A few days later, Brendan ran into his ex-wife in a bar. It turned out she was celebrating her divorce. Not long after, he noticed that the damned woman seemed to have a new suitor. Brendan was starting to panic. The woman who had clung to him for three years suddenly didn't seem to give a damn about him. What was he going to do?
It took only a second for a person's world to come crashing down. This was what happened in Hannah's case. For four years, she gave her husband her all, but one day, he said emotionlessly, "Let's get divorced." Hannah's heart broke into a million pieces as she signed the divorce papers, marking the end of her role as a devoted wife. Within Hannah, a strong woman awakened, vowing never to be beholden to any man again. Embracing her new life, she embarked on a journey to find herself and command her own destiny. By the time she returned, she had experienced so much growth and was now completely different from the docile wife everyone once knew. "Is this your latest trick to get my attention?" Hannah's ever-so-arrogant husband asked. Before she could retort, a handsome and domineering CEO pulled her into his embrace. He smiled down at her and said boldly to her ex, "Just a little heads-up, mister. This is my beloved wife. Keep off!"
Three years ago, Cecilia was left battered and alone by the man she loved most, Alston, yet she bravely completed the wedding ceremony while pregnant. Three years later, although they were married, they grew apart over time. Cecilia focused on her career, no longer foolishly believing in love. But her transformation instantly threw Alston into a panic... And what is the secret from 11 years ago that Cecilia has always been reluctant to reveal? *** "She went to a law firm, met with a lawyer..." A lawyer? Is Cecilia suing someone? Who? Is there any recent litigation against the company? Alston suddenly chuckled coldly, "Who could she sue? I'm the CEO of this company. How come such a matter doesn't come to me first?" The assistant swallowed nervously, speaking softly, "Sir, there's no litigation against the company. She met with... a divorce lawyer."
After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.
After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."