A Bid for Fortune by Guy Boothby (top 5 ebook reader .txt) 📕
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Guy Newell Boothby, born in Adelaide, was one of the most popular of Australian authors in the late 19th and early 20th century, writing dozens of novels of sensational fiction.
A Bid for Fortune, or Dr. Nikola’s Vendetta is the first of his series of five books featuring the sinister mastermind Dr. Nikola, a character of gothic appearance usually accompanied by a large black cat, and who has powers of mesmerism.
In this first novel, the protagonist is a young Australian, Richard Hatteras, who has made a small fortune in pearl-diving operations in the Thursday Islands. With money in his pocket, he decides to travel. Visiting Sydney before taking ship for England, he meets and falls in love with the daughter of the Colonial Secretary, Sylvester Wetherell. As the story moves on, it is revealed that Wetherell has fallen foul of the evil Dr. Nikola, who has developed a devious scheme to force Wetherell to submit in to his demands to give him a mysterious oriental object he has acquired. The life and liberty of Hatteras’ lady-love are imperilled as Nikola’s plot moves on, and Hatteras has to make strenuous efforts to locate and free her.
Boothby’s novels, particularly the Dr. Nikola books, achieved considerable popular success, particularly in his native country of Australia. A study of library borrowings in the early 20th Century has shown that Boothby’s works were almost as frequently borrowed in Australia as those of Charles Dickens and H. Rider Haggard.
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- Author: Guy Boothby
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“Before you commence, my lord, I must send word to the Commissioner that you have been found.”
He wrote a message on a piece of paper and dispatched the constable with it. Having done so he turned to Beckenham and said:
“Now, my lord, pray let us hear your story.”
Beckenham forthwith commenced.
III Lord Beckenham’s Story“When you left me, Mr. Hatteras, to visit Miss Wetherell at Potts Point, I remained in the house for half an hour or so reading. Then, thinking no harm could possibly come of it, I started out for a little excursion on my own account. It was about half-past eleven then.
“Leaving the hotel I made for the ferry and crossed Darling Harbour to Millers Point; then, setting myself for a good ramble, off I went through the city, up one street and down another, to eventually bring up in the botanical gardens. The view was so exquisite that I sat myself down on a seat and resigned myself to rapturous contemplation of it. How long I remained there I could not possibly say. I only know that while I was watching the movements of a man-o’-war in the cove below me I became aware, by intuition—for I did not look at him—that I was the object of close scrutiny by a man standing some little distance from me. Presently I found him drawing closer to me, until he came boldly up and seated himself beside me. He was a queer-looking little chap, in some ways not unlike my old tutor Baxter, with a shrewd, clean-shaven face, grey hair, bushy eyebrows, and a long and rather hooked nose. He was well dressed, and when he spoke did so with some show of education. When we had been sitting side by side for some minutes he turned to me and said—
“ ‘It is a beautiful picture we have spread before us, is it not?’
“ ‘It is, indeed,’ I answered. ‘And what a diversity of shipping?’
“ ‘You may well say that,’ he continued. ‘It would be an interesting study, would it not, to make a list of all the craft that pass in and out of this harbour in a day—to put down the places where they were built and whence they hail, the characters of their owners and commanders, and their errands about the world. What a book it would make, would it not? Look at that man-o’-war in Farm Cove; think of the money she cost, think of where that money came from—the rich people who paid without thinking, the poor who dreaded the coming of the tax collector like a visit from the Evil One; imagine the busy dockyard in which she was built—can’t you seem to hear the clang of the riveters and the buzzing of the steam saws? Then take that Norwegian boat passing the fort there; think of her birthplace in far Norway, think of the places she has since seen, imagine her masts growing in the forests on the mountainside of lonely fjords, where the silence is so intense that a stone rolling down and dropping into the water echoes like thunder. Then again, look at that emigrant vessel steaming slowly up the harbour; think of the folk aboard her, every one with his hopes and fears, confident of a successful future in this terra incognita, or despondent of that and everything else. Away to the left there you see a little island schooner making her way down towards the blue Pacific; imagine her in a few weeks among the islands—tropical heavens dropped down into sunlit waters—buying such produce as perhaps you have never heard of. Yes, it is a wonderful picture—a very wonderful picture?’
“ ‘You seem to have studied it very carefully,’ I said, after a moment’s silence.
“ ‘Perhaps I have,’ he answered. ‘I am deeply interested in the life of the sea—few more so. Are you a stranger in New South Wales?’
“ ‘Quite a stranger,’ I replied. ‘I only arrived in Australia a few days since.’
“ ‘Indeed! Then you have to make the acquaintance of many entrancing beauties yet. Forgive my impertinence, but if you are on a tour, let me recommend you to see the islands before you return to your home.’
“ ‘The South-Sea Islands, I presume you mean?’ I said.
“ ‘Yes; the bewitching islands of the Southern Seas! The most entrancingly beautiful spots on God’s beautiful earth! See them before you go. They will amply repay any trouble it may cost you to reach them.’
“ ‘I should like to see them very much,’ I answered, feeling my enthusiasm rising at his words.
“ ‘Perhaps you are interested in them already,’ he continued.
“ ‘Very much indeed,’ I replied.
“ ‘Then, in that case, I may not be considered presumptuous if I offer to assist you. I am an old South-Sea merchant myself, and I have amassed a large collection of beautiful objects from the islands. If you would allow me the pleasure I should be delighted to show them to you.’
“ ‘I should like to see them very much indeed,’ I answered, thinking it extremely civil of him to make the offer.
“ ‘If you have time we might perhaps go and overhaul them now. My house is but a short distance from the Domain, and my carriage is waiting at the gates.’
“ ‘I shall be delighted,’ I said, thinking there could be no possible harm in my accepting his courteous invitation.
“ ‘But before we go, may I be allowed to introduce myself,’ the old gentleman said, taking a card-case from his pocket and withdrawing a card. This he handed to me, and on it I read—
“ ‘Mr. Mathew Draper.
“ ‘I am afraid I have no card to offer you in return,’ I said; ‘but I am the Marquis of Beckenham.’
“ ‘Indeed! Then I am doubly honoured,’ the old gentleman said with a low bow. ‘Now shall we wend our way up towards my carriage?’
“We did so, chatting as we went. At the gates a neat brougham was waiting for us, and in it we took our places.
“ ‘Home,’ cried my host, and forthwith
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