The Thin Red Line; and Blue Blood   By: Arthur Griffiths (1838-1908)

E text prepared by Suzanne Shell, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net/)

THE THIN RED LINE.

by

ARTHUR GRIFFITHS,

Author of "The Chronicles of Newgate," "Fast and Loose," etc., etc.

In Two Volumes.

London: Chapman and Hall Limited 1886

VOL. I

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

CHAPTER I. THE COMMISSARY IS CALLED

CHAPTER II. ARREST AND INTERROGATION

CHAPTER III. THE MOUSETRAP

CHAPTER IV. A SPIDER'S WEB

CHAPTER V. THE WAR FEVER

CHAPTER VI. ON DANGEROUS GROUND

CHAPTER VII. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE

CHAPTER VIII. A SOUTHERN PEARL

CHAPTER IX. OFF TO THE WARS

CHAPTER X. A GENERAL ACTION

CHAPTER XI. AFTER THE BATTLE

CHAPTER XII. CATCHING A TARTAR

CHAPTER XIII. "NOT WAR"

CHAPTER XIV. THE GOLDEN HORN

CHAPTER XV. THE LAST OF LORD LYDSTONE

CHAPTER XVI. HARD POUNDING

CHAPTER XVII. A COSTLY VICTORY

CHAPTER XVIII. A NOVEMBER GALE

CHAPTER XIX. UNCLE AND NEPHEW

CHAPTER XX. RED TAPE

CHAPTER XXI. AGAIN ON THE ROCK

CHAPTER XXII. MR. HOBSON CALLS

CHAPTER XXIII. WAR TO THE KNIFE

CHAPTER XXIV. MOTHER CHARCOAL'S

VOL. II.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

CHAPTER I. SECRET SERVICE

CHAPTER II. AMONG THE COSSACKS

CHAPTER III. A PURVEYOR OF NEWS

CHAPTER IV. IN WHITEHALL

CHAPTER V. MR. FAULKS TALKS

CHAPTER VI. MARIQUITA'S QUEST

CHAPTER VII. INSIDE THE FORTRESS

CHAPTER VIII. FROM THE DEAD

CHAPTER IX. IN PARIS

CHAPTER X. SUSPENSE

CHAPTER XI. AMONG FRIENDS AGAIN

CHAPTER XII. IN LINCOLN'S INN

CHAPTER XIII. HUSBAND AND WIFE

CHAPTER XIV. THE SCALES REMOVED

CHAPTER XV. L'ENVOI

BLUE BLOOD

THE THIN RED LINE.

VOLUME I

CHAPTER I.

THE COMMISSARY IS CALLED.

In the Paris of the first half of this century there was no darker, dingier, or more forbidding quarter than that which lay north of the Rue de Rivoli, round about the great central market, commonly called the Halles.

The worst part of it, perhaps, was the Rue Assiette d'Etain, or Tinplate Street. All day evil looking loafers lounged about its doorways, nodding lazily to the passing workmen, who, blue bloused, with silk cap on head, each with his loa under his arm, came to take their meals at the wine shop at the corner; or gossiping with the porters, male and female, while the one followed closely his usual trade as a cobbler, and the other attended to her soup.

By day there was little traffic. Occasionally a long dray, on a gigantic pair of wheels, drawn by a long string of white Normandy horses in single file, with blue harness and jangling bells, filled up the roadway. Costermongers trundled their barrows along with strange, unmusical cries. Now and again an empty cab returning to its stable, with weary horse and semi somnolent coachman, crawled through the street.

But at night it was otherwise. Many vehicles came dashing down Tinplate Street: carriages, public and private, of every variety, from the rattletrap cab hired off the stand, or the decent coach from the livery stable, to the smart spick and span brougham, with its well appointed horses and servants in neat livery. They all set down at the same door, and took up from it at any hour between midnight and dawn, waiting patiently in file in the wide street round the corner, till the summons came as each carriage was required.