Tales of the Wonder Club, Volume II   By: Alexander Huth

by

DRYASDUST.

VOL. II.

[Decoration]

Illustrated by John Jellicoe and Val Prince, After Designs by the Author.

Harrison & Sons, 59, Pall Mall. Booksellers to the Queen and H.R.H. the Prince of Wales.

All rights reserved.

London: Printed By A. Hudson and Co., 160 Wandsworth Road, S.W.

CONTENTS Page CHAPTER I. 5 Buried Alive. The Landlord's Story.

CHAPTER II. 61 Der Scharfrichter. The Artist's Second Story.

CHAPTER III. 154 The Three Pauls. The Artist's Third Story.

CHAPTER IV. 238 The Waxen Image. The Hostess's Story.

CHAPTER V. 322 In which occurs Mr. Parnassus' Ballad The Chieftain's Destiny.

CHAPTER VI. 338 A Tale of the French Revolution. The Barber's Story.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

PAGE

ARTIST AND MODEL Frontispiece

PERSIAN GULF Title Page

BURIED ALIVE 5

EXECUTION 61

THE THREE PAULS 154

THE WAXEN IMAGE 238

CHIEFTAIN'S DESTINY 322

THE BASTILLE 338

[Illustration]

CHAPTER I.

BURIED ALIVE. THE LANDLORD'S STORY.

"Bravo, Oldstone! A very capital story!" cried several members at once. "It is a pity our host isn't here to have heard it."

"I heard a good part of it, though, gentlemen," said a voice from a dark corner of the room (for the lights had been extinguished, though it was still murky without).

"What, are you there, Jack?" cried Mr. Crucible. "We none of us saw you."

"Well, sir," said the landlord, "finding that I was not wanted outside as I thought, I ventured to enter the room quietly, so as not to disturb the story."

"Well done, Jack," said Hardcase, "and so you heard all, eh? Well, what do you think of it?"

"Pretty nearly all, I guess, sir," replied the landlord, "and a curious one it is, too, and no mistake. But talk of being buried alive, I could tell you a queer adventure that happened to myself, if you gentlemen would care to hear it."

"Only be too glad, Jack," said Oldstone. "Out with it; there is nothing like a good story to beguile the time in weather like this."

Our host, thus encouraged, drew his chair close to the fire, and his example was immediately followed by his guests. Then, refilling his yard of clay and lighting it in the fire, he gave one or two preliminary whiffs, and commenced his story thus:

Well, gentlemen, when I was a youngster, that is to say, a lad of nineteen, I fell deeply in love with my Molly, who, though I say it, was the finest lass in the village and for miles round it. For all the world like my Helen, at her age, bless her dear heart! She was the daughter of a rich miller his only child. Well, it had been a long attachment, for Molly and I were play mates when we was little, but when I grew to be about nineteen, and my father began to see that I was head over ears in love with Molly, he forbade me to see any more of her, because he and old Sykes leastways, Molly's father, the miller wasn't friends, d'ye see.

Nevertheless, Molly and I used to get a peep at each other on the sly like, and often took long walks together when no one was near.