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Gaston Leroux
THE MAN WITH THE BLACK FEATHER
(Illustrated)
Horror Classic Translator: Edgar Jepson Illustrator: Charles M. Relyea
Published by
Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting
[email protected] 2017 OK Publishing ISBN 978-80-7583-221-4
Table of Content
Historical Preface - The Sandalwood Box
Chapter I. M. Theophrastus Longuet Desires to Improve His Mind and Visits Historical Monuments
Chapter II. The Scrap of Paper
Chapter III. Theophrastus Longuet Bursts into Song
Chapter IV. Adolphe Lecamus is Flabbergasted but Frank
Chapter V. Theophrastus Shows the Black Feather
Chapter VII. The Young Cartouche
Chapter IX. Strange Position of a Little Violet Cat
Chapter X. The Explanation of the Strange Attitude of a Little Violet Cat
Chapter XI. Theophrastus Maintains that He Did Not Die on the Place de Grève
Chapter XII. The House of Strange Words
Chapter XIII. The Cure That Missed
Chapter XIV. The Operation Begins
Chapter XV. The Operation Ends
Chapter XVI. The Drawbacks of Psychic Surgery
Chapter XVII. Theophrastus Begins to Take an Interest in Things
Chapter XVIII. The Evening Paper
Chapter XIX. The Story of the Calf
Chapter XX. The Strange Behaviour of an Express Train
Chapter XXI. The Earless Man with His Head Out of the Window
Chapter XXIII. The Melodious Bricklayer
Chapter XXIV. The Solution in the Catacombs
Chapter XXV. M. Mifroid Takes the Lead
Chapter XXVI. M. Longuet Fishes in the Catacombs
Chapter XXVII. M. Mifroid Parts from Theophrastus
Chapter XXVIII. Theophrastus Goes into Eternal Exile
Historical Preface - The Sandalwood Box
One evening last year I perceived in the waiting-room of my newspaper, Le Matin, a man dressed in black, his face heavy with the darkest despair, whose dry, dead eyes seemed to receive the images of things like unmoving mirrors.
He was seated; and there rested on his knees a sandalwood box inlaid with polished steel. An office-boy told me that he had sat there motionless, silent, awaiting my coming, for three mortal hours.
I invited this figure of despair into my office and offered him a chair. He did not take it; he walked straight to my desk, and set down on it the sandalwood box.
Then he said to me in an expressionless, far-away voice: "Monsieur, this box is yours. My friend, M. Theophrastus Longuet, charged me to bring it to you."
He bowed and was going to the door, when I stopped him.
"For goodness sake, don't run away like that!" I said sharply. "I can't receive this box without knowing what it contains."
"I don't know what it contains myself," he said in the same dull, expressionless tone. "This box is locked; the key is lost. You will have to break it open to find out."
"At any rate I should like to know the name of the bearer," I said firmly.
"My friend, M. Theophrastus
