The Great White Queen: A Tale of Treasure and Treason
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Le Queux William. The Great White Queen: A Tale of Treasure and Treason
CHAPTER I. A ROMANCE!
CHAPTER II. OMAR'S SLAVE
CHAPTER III. OUTWARD BOUND
CHAPTER IV. A STRANGE PROMISE
CHAPTER V. THE GIANT'S FINGER
CHAPTER VI. THE ROYAL JUJUS
CHAPTER VII. SAMORY'S STRONGHOLD
CHAPTER VIII. THE SECRET OF THE QUEEN
CHAPTER IX. CONDEMNED TO THE TORTURE
CHAPTER X. ZOMARA
CHAPTER XI. THE HUMAN SACRIFICE
CHAPTER XII. IN THE SACRED GROVE
CHAPTER XIII. THE WAY OF THE THOUSAND STEPS
CHAPTER XIV. FOES
CHAPTER XV. A NATURAL GRAVE
CHAPTER XVI. WORDS OF FIRE
CHAPTER XVII. A SALUTE OF BULLETS
CHAPTER XVIII. THE MYSTERIOUS REALM
CHAPTER XIX. THE CITY IN THE CLOUDS
CHAPTER XX. THE GREAT WHITE QUEEN
CHAPTER XXI. A FIGURE IN THE SHADOW
CHAPTER XXII. TO THE UNKNOWN
CHAPTER XXIII. UNDER THE VAMPIRE'S WING
CHAPTER XXIV. THE FLAMING MOUTH
CHAPTER XXV. LIOLA
CHAPTER XXVI. THE FIRST BLOW
CHAPTER XXVII. BY THE NAYA'S ORDERS
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE FIGHT FOR THE EMERALD THRONE
CHAPTER XXIX. A MYSTERY
CHAPTER XXX. TREASURE AND TREASON
CHAPTER XXXI. A SPY'S STARTLING STORY
CHAPTER XXXII. WAR
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE HAREM SLAVE
CHAPTER XXXIV. LIOLA'S DISCOVERY
CHAPTER XXXV. INTO THE MIST
CONCLUSION
Отрывок из книги
Omar had been at Trigger's a little over two years when a strange incident occurred. We were then both aged about sixteen, he a few months older than myself. The summer holidays had come round again. I had a month ago visited my uncle in London, and he had given me to understand that after next term I should leave school and commence life in the City. He took me to his warehouse in Thames Street and showed me the gas-lit cellar wherein his clerks were busy entering goods and calling out long columns of amounts. The prospect was certainly not inviting, for I was never good at arithmetic, and to spend one's days in a place wherein never a ray of sunshine entered was to my mind the worst existence to which one could be condemned.
When I returned I confessed my misgivings to Omar, who sympathised with me, and we had many long chats upon the situation as during the six weeks we wandered daily by the sea. We cared little for the Grand Parade, with its line of garish hotels, tawdry boarding-houses and stucco-fronted villas, and the crowd of promenaders did not interest us. Seldom even we went on the pier, except to swim. Our favourite walks were away in the country through Willingdon to Polegate, over Beachy Head, returning through East Dean to Litlington and its famed tea-garden, or across Pevensey Levels to Wartling, for we always preferred the more unfrequented ways. One day, when I was more than usually gloomy over the prospect of drudgery under my close-fisted relative, my friend said to me cheerfully:
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"Let me briefly explain, Scarsmere," my friend interrupted. "Until the present I have been compelled to keep my identity a secret, for truth to tell, there is a plot against our dynasty, and I fear assassination."
"Your dynasty!" I cried amazed. "Are your people kings and queens?"
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