The Death Shot: A Story Retold
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Оглавление
Reid Mayne. The Death Shot: A Story Retold
Preface
Prologue
Chapter One. Two sorts of Slave-Owners
Chapter Two. A flat refusal
Chapter Three. A Forest Post-Office
Chapter Four. Two good girls
Chapter Five. A photograph in the forest
Chapter Six. A coon-chase interrupted
Chapter Seven. Murder without remorse
Chapter Eight. The coon-hunter cautious
Chapter Nine. An assassin in retreat
Chapter Ten. The eve of departure
Chapter Eleven. Under the Trysting Tree
Chapter Twelve. The wrong man
Chapter Thirteen. The coon-hunter at home
Chapter Fourteen. Why comes he not?
Chapter Fifteen. A moonlight moving
Chapter Sixteen. What has become of Clancy?
Chapter Seventeen. A bullet extracted
Chapter Eighteen “To the sheriff!”
Chapter Nineteen. The “Belle of Natchez.”
Chapter Twenty. Saved by a sister
Chapter Twenty One. Seized by spectral arms
Chapter Twenty Two. Up and down
Chapter Twenty Three. The sleep of the assassin
Chapter Twenty Four. The coon-hunter conscience-stricken
Chapter Twenty Five. An unceremonious search
Chapter Twenty Six. Tell-tale tracks
Chapter Twenty Seven. Additional evidence
Chapter Twenty Eight “To the jail!”
Chapter Twenty Nine. A scheme of colonisation
Chapter Thirty. News from Natchez
Chapter Thirty One. Spectres in the street
Chapter Thirty Two. The “Choctaw Chief.”
Chapter Thirty Three. The murderer unmasked
Chapter Thirty Four “Will you be one of us?”
Chapter Thirty Five. A ghost going its rounds
Chapter Thirty Six “She is true – still true!”
Chapter Thirty Seven. The home of the hunted slave
Chapter Thirty Eight. An excursion by canoe
Chapter Thirty Nine. Is it a corpse?
Chapter Forty “Across the Sabine.”
Chapter Forty One. A repentant sinner
Chapter Forty Two. The prairie caravan
Chapter Forty Three. The hand of God
Chapter Forty Four. A cloud on the cliffs
Chapter Forty Five. A suspicious surveillance
Chapter Forty Six. A suspected servant
Chapter Forty Seven. Opposite emblems
Chapter Forty Eight. A blank day
Chapter Forty Nine. Waiting the word
Chapter Fifty. An uncanny skulker
Chapter Fifty One. Locked in
Chapter Fifty Two. Massacre without mercy
Chapter Fifty Three. A horrid spectacle
Chapter Fifty Four. Riding double
Chapter Fifty Five. Tired travellers
Chapter Fifty Six. Spectral equestrians
Chapter Fifty Seven. Planning a capture
Chapter Fifty Eight. Across the ford
Chapter Fifty Nine. A Foiled Ambuscade
Chapter Sixty “The Live-Oak.”
Chapter Sixty One. A ruffian triumphant
Chapter Sixty Two “Help! Help!”
Chapter Sixty Three. An oath to be kept
Chapter Sixty Four. A wild farewell
Chapter Sixty Five. For the rendezvous
Chapter Sixty Six. A scouting party
Chapter Sixty Seven. A straying traveller
Chapter Sixty Eight “Brasfort.”
Chapter Sixty Nine. Shadows behind
Chapter Seventy. Surrounded and disarmed
Chapter Seventy One. A pathless plain
Chapter Seventy Two. The prairie stocks
Chapter Seventy Three. Helpless and hopeless
Chapter Seventy Four. Coyote Creek
Chapter Seventy Five. A Transformation
Chapter Seventy Six. Mestizo and mulatto
Chapter Seventy Seven. A strayed traveller
Chapter Seventy Eight. Hours of agony
Chapter Seventy Nine. An unexpected visitor
Chapter Eighty. A Resurrectionist
Chapter Eighty One. The voice of vengeance
Chapter Eighty Two. A man nearly mad
Chapter Eighty Three. At length the “Death Shot.”
Chapter Eighty Four. The Scout’s Report
Chapter Eighty Five. A change of programme
Chapter Eighty Six. Alone with the Dead
Chapter Eighty Seven. Hostile Cohorts
Отрывок из книги
Plain, treeless, shrubless, smooth as a sleeping sea. Grass upon it; this so short, that the smallest quadruped could not cross over without being seen. Even the crawling reptile would not be concealed among its tufts.
Objects are upon it – sufficiently visible to be distinguished at some distance. They are of a character scarce deserving a glance from the passing traveller. He would deem it little worth while to turn his eyes towards a pack of prairie wolves, much less go in chase of them.
.....
So speaking, the fair girl flings herself upon her father’s breast, her hand laid across his forehead, the white fingers soothingly caressing it.
The door opens. Another enters the room – another girl, almost fair as she, but brighter, and younger. ’Tis Jessie.
.....