The King of the Book by Brenda Clough

Author:Brenda Clough [Clough, Brenda W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Victorian thriller, historical adventure
ISBN: 9781611389425
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2021-01-04T06:00:00+00:00

Walter Hartright’s narrative

The day after Camlet’s return from the Continent, I received this:

18th inst.

My dear Hartright,

Mr. Camlet being still abroad, I make bold to write to you instead. The Rev. B. was good as his word, and I’ve lost my post on the teaching staff at St. Botolph’s. You above all can testify that I did my utmost in the service of your family.

My hope of returning to Cambridge to qualify for a fellowship now rests upon this manuscript. Mrs. Camlet kindly gave me much advice about revising it. I am now in need of a harbour, some refuge to sustain existence while I rewrite as rapidly as I can drive the pen.

I had thought to send my plea to the lady herself, but I feel certain that the search for the boy is foremost in Mrs. Camlet’s mind. I therefore solicit your interest on my behalf instead. If you know of any temporary refuge, I beg that you send me word. I am rusticating now at the Rectory in Mundesley near Cromer in Norfolk.

Most sincerely,

Your companion in railway rescue,

L. Horace Holly

It was a new and not entirely welcome sensation for me, to be granting rather than begging for favours. It is not difficult to help, but it is surpassingly difficult to offer wise help – assistance that actually does good. When I contemplated my own poor subcommittee labours, or Miss Portree, or even Camlet’s well-intentioned parental management, the gap between the two was painfully visible. However, this problem was well within my power. I replied to Mr. Holly, offering the hospitality of Limmeridge for a month or so.

We would loiter in London for some time yet. Laura and I had long ago made our plans to depart for Cumberland when Camlet returned from his travels. The spectre of whooping-cough in the neighbourhood filled her with worry for our sons. This would probably be my wife’s last excursion before her confinement next year. Naturally Marian would stay for several months at Limmeridge at that time, bringing her little ones.

But in the current crisis we agreed to postpone our departure. Camlet faced a truly Augean task, plucking the snake out from Covenant’s bosom and then reorganising its affairs. And neither of us could bear to leave London without knowing the fate of Lottie and Micah. My assistance might be crucial in finding them. Both Camlet and Marian begged for my aid, and I could not deny their plea.

Thus Mr. Holly was guaranteed several weeks at least of solitude in the north, surely a sufficient time to renovate his sensational thriller. I might even have him report upon the health of my lame carriage horse, whose fate I had not yet decided upon.

If one looks for Jove descending with thunder and lightning to avenge injustice, Camlet is less than convincing. Neither tall nor short, stout nor slim, fair nor dark, all his distinguishing features are minor and innocuous. In his snuff-coloured coat and round steel-rimmed spectacles, he is an extraordinarily ordinary man.

Nevertheless,

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