"Untimely Death" by Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
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Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark. Untimely Death
Untimely Death
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I. Journey into the Past
CHAPTER II. The Hunt is Up
CHAPTER III. Minster Tracy
CHAPTER IV. The Find
CHAPTER V. A Check
CHAPTER VI. At Fault
CHAPTER VII. Lying Up
CHAPTER VIII. An Old Friend
CHAPTER IX. The Gathering of the Eagles
CHAPTER X. Sunbeam Cottage
CHAPTER XI. Inquest
CHAPTER XII. The Price of a Ham
CHAPTER XIII. Re Gorman, Deceased
CHAPTER XIV. According to the Evidence
CHAPTER XV. Post-mortem in Fleet Street
CHAPTER XVI. The Right Question
CHAPTER XVII. The Right Answer
Отрывок из книги
Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark
Published by Good Press, 2021
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Pettigrew said nothing. Already the leading hounds were racing down the slope from the brow of the hill, not half a minute behind their quarry. Barring a miracle, the stag was doomed, though there might yet be an hour’s tow-row down the water before he was booked. It was no use being sentimental about it. But telling himself so did not prevent him feeling sentimental, all the same. It was all of fifty years since he had last seen a hunted deer and now the sight of it had in some way dispelled the enchantment of reminiscence in which he had been living up to that moment. Willy-nilly, he found himself looking at the hapless beast through the eyes of the elderly, urban humanitarian who had somehow evolved from that small boy. He had forgotten that a stag looked so defenceless, lumbering along with its curious stiff-legged canter in front of the pitiless pack. A shrill squeal from below announced that someone had viewed the deer on his way down the valley, and he felt a sudden stab of pity for the victim.
This is quite illogical, he told himself. I shouldn’t feel a bit like this for a hare, and if it was a fox I should have probably screamed my head off by now. Why the distinction? He pondered the problem gravely, while the field streamed across the slope opposite and clattered down the track that led through the wood. On serious reflection, he came to the conclusion that it was a question of size. A deer was altogether too big to hunt with a clear conscience. In sport one should always kill something a good deal smaller than oneself, something that succumbed easily, quickly, anonymously. A stag was too large to be anything but an individual, his death too difficult to be other than a prolonged personal affair.
