One Of Them

One Of Them
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Lever Charles James. One Of Them

A WORD OF APOLOGY FOR MY TITLE

ONE OF THEM, Volume I

CHAPTER I. A PIAZZA AFTER SUNSET

CHAPTER II. THE VILLA CAPRINI

CHAPTER III. TRAVELLING ACQUAINTANCE

CHAPTER IV. VISITORS

CHAPTER V. ACCIDENTS AND THEIR CONSEQUENCES

CHAPTER VI. THE MEMBER FOR INCHABOGUE

CHAPTER VII. MRS. PENTHONY MORRIS

CHAPTER VIII. PORT-NA-WHAPPLE

CHAPTER IX. A DINNER AT THE RECTORY

CHAPTER X. THE LABORATORY

CHAPTER XI. A REMITTANCE

CHAPTER XII. A FELLOW-TRAVELLER ON THE COACH

CHAPTER XIII. HOW THEY LIVED AT THE VILLA

CHAPTER XIV. THE BILLIARD-ROOM

CHAPTER XV. MRS. PENTHONY MORRIS AT HER WRITING-TABLE

CHAPTER XVI. A SICK-ROOM

CHAPTER XVII. A MASTER AND MAN

CHAPTER XVIII. MRS. MORRIS AS COUNSELLOR

CHAPTER XIX. JOE’S DIPLOMACY

CHAPTER XX. A DREARY FORENOON

CHAPTER XXI. MR. O’SHEA UPON POLITICS, AND THINGS IN GENERAL

CHAPTER XXII. THE PUBLIC SERVANT ABROAD

CHAPTER XXIII. BROKEN TIES

CHAPTER XXIV. A DAY IN EARLY SPRING

CHAPTER XXV. BEHIND THE SCENES

CHAPTER XXVI. A DARK REMEMBRANCE

CHAPTER XXVII. THE FRAGMENT OF A LETTER

CHAPTER XXVIII. THE O’SHEA AT HIS LODGINGS

CHAPTER XXIX. OLD LETTERS

CHAPTER XXX. TWIST, TROVER, AND CO

CHAPTER XXXI. IN THE TOILS

CHAPTER XXXII. A DRIVE ROUND THE CASCINE AT FLORENCE

CHAPTER XXXIII. SIR WILLIAM IN THE GOUT

CHAPTER XXXIV. A WARM DISCUSSION

CHAPTER XXXV. LOO AND HER FATHER

CHAPTER XXXVI. A GRAVE SCENE IN LIGHT COMPANY

CHAPTER XXXVI. MR. STOCMAR’S VISIT

CHAPTER XXXVIII. VERY OUTSPOKEN ON THE WORLD AT LARGE

CHAPTER XXXIX. FROM CLARA

CHAPTER XL. QUACKINBOSSIANA

CHAPTER XLI. QUACKINBOSS AT HOME

CHAPTER XLII. A NEW LOCATION

CHAPTER XLIII. BUNKUMVILLE

CHAPTER XLIV. THE LECTURER

CHAPTER XLV. OF BYGONES

CHAPTER XLVI. THE DOCTOR’S NARRATIVE

CHAPTER XLVII. A HAPPY ACCIDENT

CHAPTER XLVIII. AT ROME

CHAPTER XLIX. THE PALAZZO BALBI

CHAPTER L. THREE MET AGAIN

ONE OF THEM, Volume II

CHAPTER I. THE LONE VILLA ON THE ÇAMPAGNA

CHAPTER II. A DINNER OF TWO

CHAPTER III. SOME LAST WORDS

CHAPTER IV. FOUND OUT

CHAPTER V. THE MANAGER’S ROOM AT THE “REGENT’S.”

CHAPTER VI. MR. O’SHEA AT BADEN

CHAPTER VII. THE COTTAGE NEAR BREGENZ

CHAPTER VIII. CONSULTATION

CHAPTER IX. WORDS OF GOOD CHEER

CHAPTER X. THE LETTER FROM ALFRED LAYTON

CHAPTER XI. AN EAGER GUEST

CHAPTER XII. CONCLUSION

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Before I begin my story, let me crave my reader’s indulgence for a brief word of explanation, for which I know no better form than a parable.

There is an Eastern tale – I forget exactly where or by whom told – of a certain poor man, who, being in extreme distress, and sorely puzzled as to how to eke out a livelihood, bethought him to give out that he was a great magician, endowed with the most marvellous powers, amongst others, that of tracing out crime, and detecting the secret history of all guilty transactions. Day after day did he proclaim to the world his wonderful gifts, telling his fellow-citizens what a remarkable man was amongst them, and bidding them thank Destiny for the blessing of his presence. Now, though the story has not recorded whether their gratitude was equal to the occasion, we are informed that the Caliph heard of the great magician, and summoned him to his presence, for it chanced just at the moment that the royal treasury had been broken into by thieves, and gems of priceless value carried away.

.....

His wife arose, and with feeble steps tottered to the door of the cottage to look after him. A few steps brought him to the foot of the cliff, up the steep face of which a zigzag path led upwards for fully four hundred feet, a narrow track trodden by the bare feet of hardy mountaineers into some semblance of a pathway, but such as few denizens of towns would willingly have taken. Layton, however, stepped along like one whose foot was not new to the heather; nay, the very nature of the ascent, the bracing air of the sea, and something in the peril itself of the way, seemed to revive in the man his ancient vigor; and few, seeing him from the beach below, as he boldly breasted the steep bluff, or sprang lightly over some fissured chasm, would have deemed him one long since past the prime of life, – one who had spent more than youth, and its ambitions, in excess.

At first, the spirit to press onward appeared to possess him entirely; but ere he reached the half ascent, he turned to look down on the yellow strip of strand and the little cottage, up to whose very door-sill now the foam seemed curling. Never before had its isolation seemed so complete. Not a sail was to be seen seaward, not even a gull broke the stillness with his cry; a low, mournful plash, with now and then a rumbling half thunder, as the sea resounded within some rocky cavern, were the only sounds, and Layton sat down on a mossy ledge, to drink in the solitude in all its fulness. Amidst thoughts of mingled pain and pleasure, memories of long-past struggles, college triumphs and college friendships, came dreary recollections of dark reverses, when the world seemed to fall back from him, and leave him to isolation. Few had ever started with more ambitious yearnings, – few with more personal assurances of success. Whatever he tried he was sure to be told, “There lies your road, Layton; that is the path will lead you to high rewards.” He had, besides, – strange inexplicable gift, – that prestige of superiority about him that made men cede the place to him, as if by prescription. “And what had come of it all? – what had come of it all?” he cried out aloud, suddenly awaking out of the past to face the present. “Why have I failed?” asked he wildly of himself. “Is it that others have passed me in the race? Have my successes been discovered to have been gained by trick or fraud? Have my acquirements been pronounced mere pretensions? These, surely, cannot be alleged of one whose fame can be attested by almost every scientific and literary journal of the empire. No, no! the explanation is easier, – the poet was wrong, – Fortune is a Deity, and some men are born to be unlucky.”

.....

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