The Beetle by Richard Marsh (read e books online free txt) 📕
Description
The Beetle was published in 1897, the same year as Dracula—and outsold it six to one that year. Like Dracula, the novel is steeped in the evil mysteries of an ancient horror: in this case, a mysterious ancient Egyptian creature bent on revenge.
The story is told through the sequential points of view of a group of middle-class Victorians who find themselves enmeshed in the creature’s plot. The creature, in the guise of an Egyptian man, appears in London seeking revenge against a popular member of Parliament. They soon find out that it can shape shift into other things, including women; that it can control minds and use hypnosis; and that it won’t stop at anything to get the revenge it seeks. The heroes are soon caught in a whirlwind of chase scenes, underground laboratories, secret cults, and more as they race to foil the creature.
While The Beetle didn’t earn the lasting popularity of Stoker’s counterpart, it remains a strange and unique morsel of Victorian sensationalist fiction.
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- Author: Richard Marsh
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It was Dora Grayling who was coming—I went off with her without a word—we were halfway through the dance before she spoke to me.
“I am sorry that I was cross to you just now, and—disagreeable. Somehow I always seem destined to show to you my most unpleasant side.”
“The blame was mine—what sort of side do I show you? You are far kinder to me than I deserve—now, and always.”
“That is what you say.”
“Pardon me, it’s true—else how comes it that, at this time of day, I’m without a friend in all the world?”
“You!—without a friend!—I never knew a man who had so many!—I never knew a person of whom so many men and women join in speaking well!”
“Miss Grayling!”
“As for never having done anything worth doing, think of what you have done. Think of your discoveries, think of your inventions, think of—but never mind! The world knows you have done great things, and it confidently looks to you to do still greater. You talk of being friendless, and yet when I ask, as a favour—as a great favour!—to be allowed to do something to show my friendship, you—well, you snub me.”
“I snub you!”
“You know you snubbed me.”
“Do you really mean that you take an interest in—in my work?”
“You know I mean it.”
She turned to me, her face all glowing—and I did know it.
“Will you come to my laboratory tomorrow morning?”
“Will I!—won’t I!”
“With your aunt?”
“Yes, with my aunt.”
“I’ll show you round, and tell you all there is to be told, and then if you still think there’s anything in it, I’ll accept your offer about that South American experiment—that is, if it still holds good.”
“Of course it still holds good.”
“And we’ll be partners.”
“Partners?—Yes—we will be partners.”
“It will cost a terrific sum.”
“There are some things which never can cost too much.”
“That’s not my experience.”
“I hope it will be mine.”
“It’s a bargain?”
“On my side, I promise you that it’s a bargain.”
When I got outside the room I found that Percy Woodville was at my side. His round face was, in a manner of speaking as long as my arm. He took his glass out of his eye, and rubbed it with his handkerchief—and directly he put it back he took it out and rubbed it again, I believe that I never saw him in such a state of fluster—and, when one speaks of Woodville, that means something.
“Atherton, I am in a devil of a stew.” He looked it. “All of a heap!—I’ve had a blow which I shall never get over!”
“Then get under.”
Woodville is one of those fellows who will insist on telling me their most private matters—even to what they owe their washerwomen for the ruination of their shirts. Why, goodness alone can tell—heaven knows I am not sympathetic.
“Don’t be an idiot!—you don’t know what I’m suffering!—I’m as nearly as possible stark mad.”
“That’s all right, old chap—I’ve seen you that way more than once before.”
“Don’t talk like that—you’re not a perfect brute!”
“I bet you a shilling that I am.”
“Don’t torture me—you’re not. Atherton!” He seized me by the lapels of my coat, seeming half beside himself—fortunately he had drawn me into a recess, so that we were noticed by few observers. “What do you think has happened?”
“My dear chap, how on earth am I to know?”
“She’s refused me!”
“Has she!—Well I never!—Buck up—try some other address—there are quite as good fish in the sea as ever came out of it.”
“Atherton, you’re a blackguard.”
He had crumpled his handkerchief into a ball, and was actually bobbing at his eyes with it—the idea of Percy Woodville being dissolved in tears was excruciatingly funny—but, just then, I could hardly tell him so.
“There’s not a doubt of it—it’s my way of being sympathetic. Don’t be so down, man—try her again!”
“It’s not the slightest use—I know it isn’t—from the way she treated me.”
“Don’t be so sure—women often say what they mean least. Who’s the lady?”
“Who?—Is there more women in the world than one for me, or has there ever been? You ask me who! What does the word mean to me but Marjorie Lindon!”
“Marjorie Lindon?”
I fancy that my jaw dropped open—that, to use his own vernacular, I was “all of a heap.” I felt like it.
I strode away—leaving him mazed—and all but ran into Marjorie’s arms.
“I’m just leaving. Will you see me to the carriage, Mr. Atherton?” I saw her to the carriage. “Are you off?—can I give you a lift?”
“Thank you—I am not thinking of being off.”
“I’m going to the House of Commons—won’t you come?”
“What are you going there for?”
Directly she spoke of it I knew why she was going—and she knew that I knew, as her words showed.
“You are quite well aware of what the magnet is. You are not so ignorant as not to know that the Agricultural Amendment Act is on tonight, and that Paul is to speak. I always try to be there when Paul is to speak, and I mean to always keep on trying.”
“He is a fortunate man.”
“Indeed—and again indeed. A man with such gifts as his is inadequately described as fortunate.—But I must be off. He expected to be up before, but I heard from him a few minutes ago that there has been a delay, but that he will be up within half-an-hour.—Till our next meeting.”
As I returned into the house, in the hall I met Percy Woodville. He had his hat on.
“Where are you off to?”
“I’m off to the House.”
“To hear Paul Lessingham?”
“Damn Paul Lessingham!”
“With all
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