The Four Feathers

Literature & Fiction

A. E. W. MASON

Action & Adventure

Fontana

Children's Books

John Murray Publishers, Ltd.

THE PRISONER IN THE OPAL [Dennis Wheatley Library of the Occult #10].

Genre Fiction

London: Sphere Books 1974

Running Water, published in 1907, is, like its predecessor, a tale of romantic adventure. Though much of the story takes place in England, the real setting here is in the high Alps, in the range of Mont Blanc near Chamonix and Courmayeur. Here it is that Captain Hilary Chayne arrives, having spent the prior four years of his army service on the shores of the Red Sea, dreaming all the time of his return to the Alps, to the world of rock, ice, and snow, to mountaineering with all its challenges and joys, and to its comradeship. And here it is too that he meets the young and beautiful Sylvia Thesiger, a girl already in love with the high mountains, and seeking in them an escape, as far as possible, from her unpleasant and domineering mother.

Running Water

Contemporary

C. Combridge

A Romance of Wastdale

Classics

Spoken Realms and Blackstone Publishing

It was the Road which caused the trouble. It usually is the road. That and a reigning prince who was declared by his uncle secretly to have sold his country to the British, and a half-crazed priest from out beyond the borders of Afghanistan, who sat on a slab of stone by the river-bank and preached a djehad. But above all it was the road-Linforth's road. It came winding down from the passes, over slopes of shale; it was built with wooden galleries along the precipitous sides of cliffs; it snaked treacherously further and further across the rich valley of Chiltistan towards the Hindu Kush, until the people of that valley could endure it no longer.      Then suddenly from Peshawur the wires began to flash their quiet and ominous messages.

The Broken Road

A. E. W. Mason, E. W. Mason

Literary

1st World Library Literary Society

Lieutenant Sutch was the first of General Feversham's guests to reach Broad Place. He arrived about five o'clock on an afternoon of sunshine in mid June, and the old red-brick house, lodged on a southern slope of the Surrey hills, was glowing from a dark forest depth of pines with the warmth of a rare jewel. Lieutenant Sutch limped across the hall, where the portraits of the Fevershams rose one above the other to the ceiling, and went out on to the stone-flagged terrace at the back. There he found his host sitting erect like a boy, and gazing southward toward the Sussex Downs.      "How's the leg?" asked General Feversham, as he rose briskly from his chair. He was a small wiry man, and, in spite of his white hairs, alert. But the alertness was of the body. A bony face, with a high narrow forehead and steel-blue inexpressive eyes, suggested a barrenness of mind.

Witness for the Defense

BiblioBazaar

When British officer Harry Feversham quits the military just before his regiment sails off to war, his friends call him a coward. He sets out to prove his honor by anonymously saving each of his friends lives.

The Four Feathers (Library)

Blackstone Audiobooks

The Geneva express jerked itself out of the Gare de Lyons. For a few minutes the lights of outer Paris twinkled past its windows and then with a spring it reached the open night. The jolts and lurches merged into one regular purposeful throb, the shrieks of the wheels, the clatter of the coaches, into one continuous hum. And already in the upper berth of her compartment Mrs. Thesiger was asleep. The noise of a train had no unrest for her. Indeed, a sleeping compartment in a Continental express was the most permanent home which Mrs. Thesiger had possessed for a good many more years than she would have cared to acknowledge. She spent her life in hotels with her daughter for an unconsidered companion. From a winter in Vienna or in Rome she passed to a spring at Venice or at Constantinople, thence to a June in Paris, a July and August at the bathing places, a September at Aix, an autumn in Paris again. But always she came back to the sleeping-car. It was the one familiar room which was always ready for her; and though the prospect from its windows changed, it was the one room she knew which had always the same look, the same cramped space, the same furniture—the one room where, the moment she stepped into it, she was at home.

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Books by A. E. W. MASON