NOVELS OF THE WEEK.*
WE have to thank Miss Berne Stuart for introducing us to a new form of the novel of incident in her latest venture. In the Dark may best be described as belonging to the category of "still" melodrama or suppressed sensationalism. Nothing could be more natural than the opening ; a respectable young doctor, on the verge of declaring his affection for a thoroughly nice English girl, goes to Italy to recruit after an attack of inflnenza,—the complaint per excellence of the modern novel, But after this innocent beginning we speedily plunge into the turbid waters of romance. In Venice he is kidnapped by a gondolier, forced to take the place of a mysterious Italian (i.) In the Dark. By Esme Stuart. London : John Long. [6s.]—(2.) Looking Ahead : Twentieth Century Happenings. By H. Pereira Mendes. London : Gay and Bird. Ps.]—(3.) "Punchinello." London : James Bowden. [65.1—(4.) A Pauper Millionaire. By Austin Fryers. London : C. Arthur Pearson. [3s. 6d.)—(5.) The Experience of Dorothy Leigh. By Prances Home. I,ondon : Routledge and Sons. (6s.]—(6.) Out from the Night. Br Alice Maud Meadows. London : Ward, Lock, and Co. [36. Sd.]—(7.) The Guardians of Pansy. By Dolt Wyllarde. London : Hutchinson and Co. [68.]—(31.) Through Unseen Paths. By Kathleen Elizabeth Harrison. London : Swan Sonnenschein and Co. [Cs.) — (9.) Angels Unawares. By E. Biackmore. London : Digby, Long. and Co. [13s.)—(10.) The Green Field. By Neu Wynn Williams. London : Chapman and Hall. Dal Count, condemned by a secret society to undertake the role of assassin, rescued by the intervention of the Count's beau- tiful daughter, and despatched to Paris on a secret mission. Here his solemn pledge to hold no communication with any one whom he had previously known compromises him terribly on his meeting with the young English lady and her brother, who has come out in search of the vanishing doctor. In the end the beautiful signorina is eliminated by a revolver shot, and Denis Courthouse, after a severe attack of brain-fever, is happily united to his Violet. From the foregoing im- perfect outline it will be seen that there is no lack of incident in the story. What lends it individuality, however, is the remarkable reserve with which these incidents are treated. When, at a supreme moment, the hero is driven to close with his friend, Tom Drake, in a desperate struggle and to strike him a severe blow, it was only a "muttered curse" that was wrung from the lips of the indignant Drake. And when Denis beheld the lovely Lucia, who had given her life to shield him from the assassin's bullet, lying dead before him, we are informed that the kiss which he imprinted on her forehead he would "never have given her in life." In short, Denis's correctitude of conduct is only equalled by his marvellous abstinence from the exertion of physical force during the episode of his abduction, and his childlike confidence in the statements of his captors. When he purchased a "small French guide to Venice," he was careful to write on the title-page, "Denis Courthouse, Esq., M.D., Hotel des Lagunes." Really, anything is possible in a man of this temperament suffering from the seguela, of a "fierce attack of influenza," which "had left his general health much enfeebled," and unable to frame a single sentence in Italian.
Looking Ahead, described in its alternative title as "Twentieth Century Happenings," is the work of the Rev. H. Pereira Mendes, "Pastor of the Spanish and Portuguese Convocation, New York," and belongs to that class of prophetic fiction of which Mr. H. G. Wells is the most con- spicuous living representative. Mr. Mendes has little claim to distinction as a writer; he has not attempted to cast his predictions in the form of a connected story ; there are prac- tically no dramatis persona', no hero, or heroine, or love interest. It is merely a string of events opening with the new Franco-Prussian War, and culminating in the restoration of a Jewish State in Palestine which is to act as a final Court of Arbitration in international disputes. The chapter describing the founding of the Anglo-Saxon Confederation under King Edward IX., and an American poet-laureate, contains an account of a solemn service in Westminster Abbey punctuated with artillery, electric bells, and other theatricalism, which will hardly commend itself to the Dean. It is interesting to learn that the appointment of the Pales- tinian Cabinet as arbitrating body was due to the suggestion of "William Ewart Gladstone, great-grandson of England's great statesman." There is no reason to doubt Mr. Mendes's sincerity, but we fear that his facile and inartistic optimism has little chance of competing in popularity with the grim fascination of Mr. Wells or the comfortable commonplaceness of Mr. Bellamy.
Apart from an excess of sentiment and certain anachronisms of style—" chortle" is curiously out of place in an eighteenth. century narrative—"Punchinello" is a well-written romance of a tragical complexion. The narrator is a musical genius and a hunchback, morbidly sensitive, and cursed with a most suspicious and jealous temper. He marries his beautiful cousin, is lacerated by doubts as to her relations with a hand- some Lothario in the neighbourhood, tortures her with cruel innuendoes, only to hear after her death—she is drowned in a boating accident—of her perfect innocence and devotion to himself. The scene in which he reads the diary of the dead woman has some really moving touches, and the later chapters have a poignancy for which the somewhat con- ventional opening hardly prepares one. Indeed, one might contend that the emotional and melodramatic character of the narrative hardly accords with the period of powder, patches, formal compliments, and pseudo- pastoralism. If, however, the period is ill chosen, and the "time colour" is inaccurately laid on, the story is none the less an interesting and clever study of a morbidly sensitive temperament, in presenting which the anonymous writer displays a gift of genuine eloquence, and at times real subtlety of imagination.
In A Pauper Millionaire Mr. Austin Fryers endeavours to show how bard it may be for even a well-known man to re-estab- lish his identity once he has shaken the confidence of the world at large. The involuntary disappearance of Mr. Pownceby- Smith in London is rendered easier by his being an American, by the loss of his luggage, and, above all, by his having indiscreetly tampered with his personal appearance in order to simulate greater juvenility. The motive for this altera- tion being neither dignified nor creditable, and the millionaire himself being a purse-proud, vulgar, conceited fellow, we find it somewhat of an effort to sympathise with him in his various privations and trials, or to feel any confidence that they were likely to exert a beneficial influence upon him after his restoration to his normal position.
Miss Home tells in The Experience of Dorothy Leigh a story of hospital life which, without ever rising to the plane of
excitement, is moderately interesting throughout. The heroine
takes such a rooted aversion to the " R.S.0." [i.e., Resident Surgical Officer] that no great gifts of divination are required to guess the upshot. After Dorothy has married her bite noire, the interest of the last quarter of the book is diverted to a former student at the hospital, named Barnes, who has contracted a misalliance and taken to drink, but is ultimately reformed by the heroine.
Out from the Night is a rather more amusing specimen of the sensational novel than is apparent at first sight. The heroine on her wedding day pays an evening visit in her wedding dress, orange blossoms and all complete. If, how- ever, the long-suffering reader can swallow this initial absurdity, be will be fairly well entertained by the un- ravelling of the murder mystery which forms the main motive of the story. But it is somewhat irritating to be
obliged to look at the headline of each chapter to see whether it purports to be written by the hero in the first person, or to be "told by the author."
Mr. Wyllarde's story, The Guardians of Panzy, may serve to speed the passage of the lingering hours for those lazy persons who have too much time on their bands. It imposes no strain on the intellect, is fairly amusing, but makes the practised novel-reader wonder all through whether he has not read it before.
Through Unseen Paths deals with a complete lapse of memory on the part of a young woman whose child is too young to throw any light on the situation. The helpless pair are rescued by nuns, and the child brought up at the con- vent. In the sequel, when the child has grown up, she and her mother, liberally assisted by a series of coincidences, are restored to the house and estate of the old grandfather whom the mother had originally deserted to marry the son of the steward. Feeble and unconvincing as the story is, it is an adequate and meritorious performance alongside of Angels Unawares.
Compared with most of the novels noticed this week, The Green Field reminds as of the one-eyed man among the blind.
How it would fare in good company is another matter, but it positively towers above the last five. The story is concerned with the fate of a tramp and ex-soldier, Bates by name, who saves some valuable property when a village church is burned down, and is taken on as under-gardener by the vicar's daughter as a reward for his services. Falling in love with the vicarage maid-servant, he excites the jealousy of Sturgis, the head-gardener, who is dismissed after a quarrel with Bates, and murders his rival in a fit of jealousy. Sturgis hides the body in a swamp, and the subsequent discovery of it by the fiancé of the vicar's daughter while prospecting for a mineral-water spring is ingeniously managed. When the story deals with the upper strata of society it misses fire, but the more exciting parts are skilfully handled, and the characters of Sturgis and Pollie, the servant, are well drawn.
Previous page
