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The Crimson Tide A Novel   By: (1865-1933)

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First Page:

[Illustration: "I HATE IT AS YOU HATED THE BEASTS WHO SLEW YOUR FRIEND"]

THE CRIMSON TIDE

A NOVEL

By ROBERT W. CHAMBERS

Author of "The Moonlit Way," "The Laughing Girl," "The Restless Sex," etc.

WITH FRONTISPIECE BY A. I. KELLER

A. L. BURT COMPANY

Publishers New York

Published by arrangement with D. Appleton and Company

COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY ROBERT W. CHAMBERS

Copyright, 1919, by The International Magazine Company

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

To

MARGARET ILLINGTON BOWES

AND

EDWARD J. BOWES

I

I'd rather walk with Margaret, I'd rather talk with Margaret, And anchor in some sylvan nook And fish Dream Lake with magic hook Than sit indoors and write this book.

II

An author's such an ass, alas! To watch the world through window glass When out of doors the skies are fair And pretty girls beyond compare Like Margaret are strolling there.

III

I'd rather walk with E. J. Bowes, I'd rather talk with E. J. Bowes, In woodlands where the sunlight gleams Across the golden Lake of Dreams Than drive a quill across these reams.

IV

If I could have my proper wish With these two friends I'd sit and fish Where sheer cliffs wear their mossy hoods And Dream Lake widens in the woods, But Fate says "No! Produce your goods!"

ENVOI

Inspect my goods and choose a few Dear Margaret, and Edward, too; Then sink them in the Lake of Dreams In dim, gold depths where sunshine streams Down from the sky's unclouded blue, And I'll be much obliged to you.

R. W. C.

FOREWORD

An American ambulance going south stopped on the snowy road; the driver, an American named Estridge, got out; his companion, a young woman in furs, remained in her seat.

Estridge, with the din of the barrage in his ears, went forward to show his papers to the soldiers who had stopped him on the snowy forest road.

His papers identified him and the young woman; and further they revealed the fact that the ambulance contained only a trunk and some hand luggage; and called upon all in authority to permit John Henry Estridge and Miss Palla Dumont to continue without hindrance the journey therein described.

The soldiers Siberian riflemen were satisfied and seemed friendly enough and rather curious to obtain a better look at this American girl, Miss Dumont, described in the papers submitted to them as "American companion to Marie, third daughter of Nicholas Romanoff, ex Tzar."

An officer came up, examined the papers, shrugged.

"Very well," he said, "if authority is to be given this American lady to join the Romanoff family, now under detention, it is not my affair."

But he, also, appeared to be perfectly good natured about the matter, accepting a cigarette from Estridge and glancing at the young woman in the ambulance as he lighted it.

"You know," he remarked, "if it would interest you and the young lady, the Battalion of Death is over yonder in the birch woods."

"The woman's battalion?" asked Estridge.

"Yes. They make their d├ębut to day. Would you like to see them? They're going forward in a few minutes, I believe."

Estridge nodded and walked back to the ambulance.

"The woman's battalion is over in those birch woods, Miss Dumont. Would you care to walk over and see them before they leave for the front trenches?"

The girl in furs said very gravely:

"Yes, I wish to see women who are about to go into battle... Continue reading book >>




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