But as I tapped at the door I heard his
voice from inside calling loud to me. “Take care,” it said, “he’s close
to the door.”

A sudden qualm of blank fear took hold of me, but mastering it as best I
could, I opened the door to enter, and once again something pushed
softly by me, though I saw nothing. Jack was standing by his bed, half-undressed. I saw him wipe his
forehead with the back of his hand. “He’s been here again,” he said. “I was standing just here, a minute
ago, when I found him close by me. He came out of the inner room, I
think. Did you see what he had in his hand?”

“I saw nothing.”

“It was a knife; a great long carving knife. Do you mind my sleeping on
the sofa in your room to-night? I got an awful turn then. There was
another thing too. All round the edge of his clothes, at his collar and
at his wrists, there were little flames playing, little white licking
flames.”

       *       *       *       *       *

But next day, again, we neither heard nor saw anything, nor that night
did the sense of that dreadful presence in the house come to us. And
then came the last day. We had been out till it was dark, and as I said,
had a wonderful day among the fish. On reaching home we sat together in
the sitting-room, when suddenly from overhead came a tread of feet, a
violent pealing of the bell, and the moment after yell after yell as of
someone in mortal agony. The thought occurred to both of us that this
might be Mrs Franklyn in terror of some fearful sight, and together we
rushed up and sprang into Jack’s bedroom. The doorway into the room beyond was open, and just inside it we saw the
man bending over some dark huddled object. Though the room was dark we
could see him perfectly, for a light stale and impure seemed to come
from him. He had again a long knife in his hand, and as we entered he
was wiping it on the mass that lay at his feet. Then he took it up, and
we saw what it was, a woman with head nearly severed. But it was not Mrs
Franklyn. And then the whole thing vanished, and we were standing looking into a
dark and empty room. We went downstairs without a word, and it was not
till we were both in the sitting-room below that Jack spoke. “And he takes her to the brick-kiln,” he said rather unsteadily. “I say,
have you had enough of this house? I have. There is hell in it.”

       *       *       *       *       *

About a week later Jack put into my hand a guidebook to Sussex open at
the description of Trevor Major, and I read:

“Just outside the village stands the picturesque manor house, once the
home of the artist and notorious murderer, Francis Adam. It was here he
killed his wife, in a fit, it is believed, of groundless jealousy,
cutting her throat and disposing of her remains by burning them in a
brick-kiln. Certain charred fragments found six months afterwards led to
his arrest and execution.”

       *       *       *       *       *

So I prefer to leave the house with the brick-kiln and the pictures
signed F. A. to others. TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH

OBSERVER.--“_Miss Stevens has really leaped to the front rank among
writers of fiction._”


THE LURE

BY

E. S. STEVENS

Author of “The Veil” and “The Mountain of God,” etc. _Crown 8vo_, =6s.=


The lure of adventure, the lure of a strong and unscrupulous
personality, and the lure of the Dark Continent, play their parts in
this story. Anne, the woman of the book, comes under the influence of
all three, to learn at the last that they have only enchained her
imagination and not her heart. A great part of this notable novel takes
place in the less known parts of the Soudan, where the main actors in
the drama meet and work out their destinies. The background is that vast
land of the elephant, the crocodile, and the hippopotamus, where
solitary Englishmen are loyally serving their country and civilisation,
without vainglory or hope of reward. THE LURE will be one of the most
remarkable novels of 1912. _Novels by E. S. Stevens_

THE VEIL. 6_s._ (Cloth.) Do. 1_s._ (Paper.) THE MOUNTAIN OF GOD. 6_s._ (Cloth.) Do. 1_s._ (Paper.) THE EARTHEN DRUM. 6_s._ (Eastern Stories.) _Make the acquaintance of E. S. Stevens immediately_


MILLS & BOON, LTD., 49 RUPERT ST., LONDON, W.




_A Remarkable Indian Romance_

THE DAUGHTER OF BRAHMA

By I. A. R. WYLIE

Author of “The Rajah’s People” and “Dividing Waters”

_Crown 8vo_, =6s.=


In THE DAUGHTER OF BRAHMA we are transported back to the mysterious
atmosphere and brilliant Oriental colourings which marked the author’s
first novel, “The Rajah’s People.” But here the complications of race
and religion in India are faced from another standpoint--that of the
woman. With profound sympathy we follow the wonderful moral and
spiritual growth of the daughter of Brahma, whose fate becomes so
strangely linked with that of the hero. With an equal interest,
moreover, the reader is led step by step through an absorbing plot, in
which all the hidden religious and political life of India is revealed
in striking colours, until the final crisis is reached. The crisis,
indeed, is an intensely dramatic and tragic one; but it satisfies not
only by its truth, but by the promise of future happiness which it
brings with it. The story draws into it many minor characters, who, like
the two chief figures, win both interest and sympathy by their
originality and life-like portraiture. _Mills & Boon confidently recommend THE DAUGHTER OF BRAHMA as one
     of the finest novels of 1912._


MILLS & BOON, LTD., 49 RUPERT ST., LONDON, W.




_A Notable Novel_

Some years ago there appeared a very notable novel which Mills & Boon
believe has got lost sight of in the rush of Fiction so energetically
published by almost every firm. It was entitled--


AN ENGLISHMAN

By MARY PENDERED

How many readers of to-day remember it? Mills & Boon will shortly issue
a new and revised edition at =6s.=, and they hope the public will not miss
this chance of reading one of the finest novels of the last fifteen
years. Some reviews are here given which appeared when the book was
originally published. “We have nothing but admiration for this very noble book. It is by
     far the most important the season has yet produced. It is filled
     with wisdom and sympathy, and in the Englishman of the title the
     author has created a _man_.”--_Literary World._

            *       *       *       *       *

     “As thoroughly English as ‘Middlemarch’ or ‘Cranford.’”--_Sunday
     Times._

            *       *       *       *       *

     “A thoroughly wholesome, sympathetic, effective story, the interest
     of which is sustained with unbroken continuity from its opening to
     its close.... Handled with remarkable adroitness, and manifesting
     no inconsiderable originality of characterisation.