Roland Cashel, Volume I (of II)
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Lever Charles James. Roland Cashel, Volume I (of II)
PREFACE
CHAPTER I. DON PEDRO’S GUESTS
CHAPTER II. A CHALLENGE – AND HOW IT ENDED
CHAPTER III. MR. SIMMS ON LIFE AT THE VILLA
CHAPTER IV. THE KENNYFECK HOUSEHOLD
CHAPTER V. HOW ROLAND BECAME ENTITLED TO THE GODFREY BROWNE PROPERTY
CHAPTER VI. A FRACAS IN THE BETTING-RING
CHAPTER VII. PEEPS BEHIND THE CURTAIN
CHAPTER VIII. LOVE v. LAW
CHAPTER IX. AN EXCITING ADVENTURE
CHAPTER X. THE COMING DINNER-PARTY DISCUSSED
CHAPTER XI. A DRIVE WITH THE LADIES
CHAPTER XII. THE GREAT KENNYFECK DINNER
CHAPTER XIII. TUBBER-BEG
CHAPTER XIV. MR. LINTON REVEALS HIS DESIGNS
CHAPTER XV. AT THE GAMING TABLE
CHAPTER XVI. WHAT ROLAND OVERHEARD AT THE MONEY LENDER’S
CHAPTER XVII. SCANNING THE POLITICAL HORIZON
CHAPTER XVIII. UNDER THE GREEN-WOOD TREE
CHAPTER XIX. THE DOMESTIC DETECTIVE CONSULTED
CHAPTER XX. HOW ENRIQUE’S LETTER WAS LOST AND FOUND
CHAPTER XXI. THE CONSPIRATORS DISTURBED
CHAPTER XXII. VISIT TO THE “CASHEL PICTURE GALLERY.”
CHAPTER XXIII. LINTON VISITS HIS ESTATE
CHAPTER XXIV. BREAKFAST WITH MR. CORRIGAN
CHAPTER XXV. TUBBERMORE TRANSFORMED
CHAPTER XXVI. BAD GENERALSHIP
CHAPTER XXVII. LIEUTENANT SICKLETON’S PATENT PUMP
CHAPTER XXVIII. A SPLIT IN THE KENNYFECK CABINET
CHAPTER XXIX. STORM AND WRECK
CHAPTER XXX. MISS LEICESTER’S DREAM AND ITS FULFILMENT
CHAPTER XXXI. THE GUESTS BEGIN TO ARRIVE
CHAPTER XXXII. HOW THE VISITORS FARED
CHAPTER XXXIII. ROLAND’S INTRODUCTION TO MR. CORRIGAN
CHAPTER XXXIV. ROLAND “HEARS SOMETHING TO HIS ADVANTAGE.”
CHAPTER XXXV. MISS JEMIMA MEEK
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I first thought of this story – I should say I planned it, if the expression were not misleading – when living at the Lake of Como. There, in a lovely little villa – the “Cima” – on the border of the lake, with that glorious blending of Alpine scenery and garden-like luxuriance around me, and little or none of interruption or intercourse, I had abundant time to make acquaintance with my characters and follow them into innumerable situations, and through adventures far more extraordinary and exciting than I dared afterwards to recount.
I do not know how it may be with other story-tellers, but I have to own for myself that the personages of a novel gain over at times a degree of interest very little inferior to that inspired by living and real people, and that this is especially the case when I have found myself in some secluded spot and seeing little of the world. To such an ascendancy has this deception attained, that more than once I have found myself trying to explain why this person should have done that, and by what impulse that other was led into something else. In fact, I have found that there are conditions of the mind in which purely imaginary creations assume the characters of actual people, and act positively as though they were independent of the will that invented them.
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“A traveller from beyond San Luis in search of Don Pedro.”
“Of me?” said Don Pedro, whose agitation became, in spite of all his efforts, visible to every one; at the same instant that, pulling back the cloak rudely, he gazed at the sleeping stranger, – “I never saw him before.”
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