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The Frightened Lady
Everyone tried to conceal the truth but the Frightened Lady is unable to hide her fear. Chief Inspector Tanner quickly realises that many things about the household of Lord and Lady Lebanon are not easily explained. Why are two American 'toughs' employed as footmen? Why is Lady Lebanon so unwilling to answer any questions? What he does know is that the only obviously innocent person is utterly consumed with terror. Here is Inspector Tanner's first real clue.
Paperback
First published January 1, 1932
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About the author
Edgar Wallace
2,127 books260 followersRichard Horatio Edgar Wallace (1875-1932) was a prolific British crime writer, journalist and playwright, who wrote 175 novels, 24 plays, and countless articles in newspapers and journals.
Over 160 films have been made of his novels, more than any other author. In the 1920s, one of Wallace's publishers claimed that a quarter of all books read in England were written by him.
He is most famous today as the co-creator of "King Kong", writing the early screenplay and story for the movie, as well as a short story "King Kong" (1933) credited to him and Draycott Dell. He was known for the J. G. Reeder detective stories, The Four Just Men, the Ringer, and for creating the Green Archer character during his lifetime.
Over 160 films have been made of his novels, more than any other author. In the 1920s, one of Wallace's publishers claimed that a quarter of all books read in England were written by him.
He is most famous today as the co-creator of "King Kong", writing the early screenplay and story for the movie, as well as a short story "King Kong" (1933) credited to him and Draycott Dell. He was known for the J. G. Reeder detective stories, The Four Just Men, the Ringer, and for creating the Green Archer character during his lifetime.
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Displaying 1 - 19 of 19 reviews
May 31, 2024
There is an old idea of mine, that poor books by Agatha Christie seem to be written by Edgar Wallace and good ones written by Wallace (not to many, in fact...) seem to be written by Agatha.
This looks to be the case here, at least up to the last pages...
This looks to be the case here, at least up to the last pages...
March 24, 2024
The book has a lot of tension and the usual cast of eccentric and interesting characters but for once the denouement is subpar
April 12, 2023
This book was fun. It was silly, but it was fun. The Frightened Lady was written by Egar Wallace in 1932. The back of the book says this:
Everyone tried to conceal the truth but the Frightened Lady is unable to hide her fear. Chief Inspector Tanner quickly realizes that many things about the household of Lord and Lady Lebanon are not easily explained. Why are two American toughs employed as footmen? Why is Lady Lebanon so unwilling to answer any questions? What he does know is that the only obviously innocent person is utterly consumed with terror. Here is Inspector Tanner's first real clue.
In this book we have the already mentioned American footmen:
Neither Mr. Brooks, the footman, nor Mr. Gilder, the footman, fitted the household of Marks Priory, nor did they fit the village of Marks Thornton. They were poor footmen, and never seemed to improve by practice and benefit from experience.
Yet they were nice men, if you can imagine such abnormalities as American footmen being nice. They interfered with none, were almost extravagantly polite to their fellow-servants, and never once (this stood as a monumental credit) did they report any other servants for a neglect of duty, even when neglect worked adversely against their own comfort.
We also have the incredibly annoying gamekeeper John Tilling. Mr. Tilling seems to be certain that his wife is having an affair. Maybe she is, but he is certain she is having an affair with everybody. At least he spends enough of his time threatening men who he thinks have been with his wife. There is also Kelver, the butler:
He was a stout man, tightly liveried, and wore spectacles. His hair was grey and thin, his voice inclined to be squeaky. Sticking out of the pocket of a red-striped waistcoat, which was part of his uniform, there was visible a broken packet of gum. He chewed most of the time, his jaws moving almost with the regularity of a pendulum. Gilder, of an exact and mathematical turn of mind, had clocked him as fast as fifty-six to the minute, and as slow as fifty-one. In the privacy of his room Mr. Brooks smoked a large pipe charged with a peculiar sugary blend of tobacco that he imported expensively from California.
The rest of the household includes Lady Lebanon and her son Willie, his valet Studd, Isla Crane, a twenty-four year old, dark, slim, rather lovely young lady, and Dr.Amersham is there so much of the time I'm including him as a member of the household. And where are all these people? At Mark's Priory:
For Mark's Priory had its footing set by Saxon masons, and the West Keep had gone up when William Rufus was hunting in the New Forest. Tudor Henry had found it a ruin, and restored it for his protege John, Baron Lebanon. It had withstood a siege against the soldiers of Warwick.
It was Plantagenet and Tudor and modern. No eighteenth century builder had desecrated its form; it had survived the rise and fall of the Victorian renaissance which produced so many queerly shaped angels and cherubs and draughty back rooms. There was an age and a mellowness to it that only time and the English climate could bring.
Willie Lebanon found it an irritation and an anodyne; to Dr. Amersham it was a prison and a disagreeable duty; to Lady Lebanon alone it was Reality.
Lady Lebanon was firm, cold, and definite. With black hair parted in the middle and brought down over her ears. She had small, delicate features and her eyes burnt with unquenchable fires of the true fanatic. When I read that I was wondering what she was fanatic about and I've come to the conclusion it was the house, the duty of the family kind of thing. Her speech is always precise, she dresses precise, she hates slang, smoking, and anything else that she doesn't think are proper for the family. She married her cousin because no one else was good enough to marry except family. Then there is poor Willie:
Willie Lebanon confessed himself bored with the state in which he lived. Though he was small of stature, he had passed through Sandhurst with distinction, and if his two years' service in the 30th Hussars had failed to stamp him soldier, the experience had enhanced his physique. The bad attack of fever which brought him home (explained Lady Lebanon, when she condescended to explain anything) was largely responsible for Willie's restlessness. The unbiased observer might have found a better reason for his exasperation.
He came slowly down the winding tower stairs of Marks Priory into the great hall, determined to "have it out" with his mother. He had made such resolutions before, and half-way through the argument had wearied of it.
She was sitting at her desk, reading her letters. She glanced up as he came into view and fixed him with that long and searching scrutiny which always embarrassed him. "Good morning, Willie."
Her voice was soft, rich, and yet had in it a certain quality of hardness which made him wriggle inside. It was rather like going before the commanding officer in his least compromising mood.
Isla is a "sort of cousin" whatever that means, and a secretary for Lady Lebanon. Lady Lebanon wants Willie to marry Isla, and although he never considered marrying anyone, he eventually agrees to do it, I can't remember what Isla thought of the idea, or if they ever told her.
Meanwhile Dr. Ambersham is coming and going, mostly coming and Studd mentions to Willie that he knew him in India and knows something about him. He won't tell us what it is of course:
"If her ladyship knew as much about him as I do," said Studd, heavily mysterious, "she wouldn't let him into the house."
"What do you know?" demanded Lebanon curiously. He had asked the question before and had received little more satisfaction than he had now.
"At the right time I've got a few words to say," said Studd. "He was in India, wasn't he?"
"Of course he was in India. He came back to bring me home, and he was in the Indian Medical Service for years, I believe. Do you know anything about him—I mean, about what he did in India?"
"At the right time," said Studd darkly, "I'll up and speak my mind." He pointed to a recess in the garage. Willie Lebanon saw a shining new car which he had never seen before. "That's his. Where does he get the money from? That cost a couple of thousand if it cost a penny. And when I knew him he was broke to the wide. Where does he get his money from?"
Willie Lebanon said nothing. He had asked his mother the same question without receiving any satisfactory answer.
He loathed Dr. Amersham; everybody loathed him except the two footmen and Lady Lebanon. A dapper little man, overdressed and over-scented; domineering, something of a Lothario if village gossip had any foundation. He had become suddenly rich from some unknown source; had a beautiful flat in Devonshire Street, two or three horses in training, and was accounted a good fellow by the sort of people who have their own peculiar ideas as to what constitutes good fellowship.
The fact that he was at Mark's Priory did not surprise Willie. He was always there. He came late and early, driving down from London, spending an hour or two before taking his departure; and when he arrived there came a new master to Mark's Priory.
There is this little bit of conversation between the Lady and her doctor:
"By the way," she called him back from the stairs. "Did you ever meet Studd in India? He was stationed in Poona."
Dr. Amersham's face changed. "In Poona?" he said sharply. "When?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, but from what I've heard he has told people he knew you there; which is another reason why he should leave Marks Priory."
Dr. Amersham knew another, but he kept this to himself.
Poor Studd should have been more careful perhaps of whose wife he was sleeping with or who he was telling the doctor in India story to, because he is about to be found dead. And now the detectives show up:
Tanner saw the photograph of the dead man, examined and took possession of the scarf that had strangled him: a piece of dull red cloth, in one corner of which was a little tin label sewn by the edges, bearing some words in Hindustani, which proved on translation to be the name of the manufacturer.
He saw Lord Lebanon and questioned him. That young man could offer him no solution. He was really fond of Studd—that much Bill had discovered through the butler—and was greatly upset by his death.
The third important member of the household he met as he walked across the Priory fields towards the village. Isla Crane was walking towards him with quick steps and would have passed him, but he stopped her.
"Excuse me—you're Miss Crane, aren't you? I am Detective-Inspector Tanner from the Yard."
To his amazement the colour faded from her cheeks; the hand that went to her lips was shaking. She looked at him in wide-eyed apprehension. He had seen such looks before. People suddenly confronted by the police behave oddly, whether they are innocent or guilty, but he had never expected that a girl of her class would betray such emotion. She was frightened, terrified. He thought that she was on the point of collapsing, and his amazement deepened.
And there you have the frightened lady. Like I said in the beginning, this book was fun.
Everyone tried to conceal the truth but the Frightened Lady is unable to hide her fear. Chief Inspector Tanner quickly realizes that many things about the household of Lord and Lady Lebanon are not easily explained. Why are two American toughs employed as footmen? Why is Lady Lebanon so unwilling to answer any questions? What he does know is that the only obviously innocent person is utterly consumed with terror. Here is Inspector Tanner's first real clue.
In this book we have the already mentioned American footmen:
Neither Mr. Brooks, the footman, nor Mr. Gilder, the footman, fitted the household of Marks Priory, nor did they fit the village of Marks Thornton. They were poor footmen, and never seemed to improve by practice and benefit from experience.
Yet they were nice men, if you can imagine such abnormalities as American footmen being nice. They interfered with none, were almost extravagantly polite to their fellow-servants, and never once (this stood as a monumental credit) did they report any other servants for a neglect of duty, even when neglect worked adversely against their own comfort.
We also have the incredibly annoying gamekeeper John Tilling. Mr. Tilling seems to be certain that his wife is having an affair. Maybe she is, but he is certain she is having an affair with everybody. At least he spends enough of his time threatening men who he thinks have been with his wife. There is also Kelver, the butler:
He was a stout man, tightly liveried, and wore spectacles. His hair was grey and thin, his voice inclined to be squeaky. Sticking out of the pocket of a red-striped waistcoat, which was part of his uniform, there was visible a broken packet of gum. He chewed most of the time, his jaws moving almost with the regularity of a pendulum. Gilder, of an exact and mathematical turn of mind, had clocked him as fast as fifty-six to the minute, and as slow as fifty-one. In the privacy of his room Mr. Brooks smoked a large pipe charged with a peculiar sugary blend of tobacco that he imported expensively from California.
The rest of the household includes Lady Lebanon and her son Willie, his valet Studd, Isla Crane, a twenty-four year old, dark, slim, rather lovely young lady, and Dr.Amersham is there so much of the time I'm including him as a member of the household. And where are all these people? At Mark's Priory:
For Mark's Priory had its footing set by Saxon masons, and the West Keep had gone up when William Rufus was hunting in the New Forest. Tudor Henry had found it a ruin, and restored it for his protege John, Baron Lebanon. It had withstood a siege against the soldiers of Warwick.
It was Plantagenet and Tudor and modern. No eighteenth century builder had desecrated its form; it had survived the rise and fall of the Victorian renaissance which produced so many queerly shaped angels and cherubs and draughty back rooms. There was an age and a mellowness to it that only time and the English climate could bring.
Willie Lebanon found it an irritation and an anodyne; to Dr. Amersham it was a prison and a disagreeable duty; to Lady Lebanon alone it was Reality.
Lady Lebanon was firm, cold, and definite. With black hair parted in the middle and brought down over her ears. She had small, delicate features and her eyes burnt with unquenchable fires of the true fanatic. When I read that I was wondering what she was fanatic about and I've come to the conclusion it was the house, the duty of the family kind of thing. Her speech is always precise, she dresses precise, she hates slang, smoking, and anything else that she doesn't think are proper for the family. She married her cousin because no one else was good enough to marry except family. Then there is poor Willie:
Willie Lebanon confessed himself bored with the state in which he lived. Though he was small of stature, he had passed through Sandhurst with distinction, and if his two years' service in the 30th Hussars had failed to stamp him soldier, the experience had enhanced his physique. The bad attack of fever which brought him home (explained Lady Lebanon, when she condescended to explain anything) was largely responsible for Willie's restlessness. The unbiased observer might have found a better reason for his exasperation.
He came slowly down the winding tower stairs of Marks Priory into the great hall, determined to "have it out" with his mother. He had made such resolutions before, and half-way through the argument had wearied of it.
She was sitting at her desk, reading her letters. She glanced up as he came into view and fixed him with that long and searching scrutiny which always embarrassed him. "Good morning, Willie."
Her voice was soft, rich, and yet had in it a certain quality of hardness which made him wriggle inside. It was rather like going before the commanding officer in his least compromising mood.
Isla is a "sort of cousin" whatever that means, and a secretary for Lady Lebanon. Lady Lebanon wants Willie to marry Isla, and although he never considered marrying anyone, he eventually agrees to do it, I can't remember what Isla thought of the idea, or if they ever told her.
Meanwhile Dr. Ambersham is coming and going, mostly coming and Studd mentions to Willie that he knew him in India and knows something about him. He won't tell us what it is of course:
"If her ladyship knew as much about him as I do," said Studd, heavily mysterious, "she wouldn't let him into the house."
"What do you know?" demanded Lebanon curiously. He had asked the question before and had received little more satisfaction than he had now.
"At the right time I've got a few words to say," said Studd. "He was in India, wasn't he?"
"Of course he was in India. He came back to bring me home, and he was in the Indian Medical Service for years, I believe. Do you know anything about him—I mean, about what he did in India?"
"At the right time," said Studd darkly, "I'll up and speak my mind." He pointed to a recess in the garage. Willie Lebanon saw a shining new car which he had never seen before. "That's his. Where does he get the money from? That cost a couple of thousand if it cost a penny. And when I knew him he was broke to the wide. Where does he get his money from?"
Willie Lebanon said nothing. He had asked his mother the same question without receiving any satisfactory answer.
He loathed Dr. Amersham; everybody loathed him except the two footmen and Lady Lebanon. A dapper little man, overdressed and over-scented; domineering, something of a Lothario if village gossip had any foundation. He had become suddenly rich from some unknown source; had a beautiful flat in Devonshire Street, two or three horses in training, and was accounted a good fellow by the sort of people who have their own peculiar ideas as to what constitutes good fellowship.
The fact that he was at Mark's Priory did not surprise Willie. He was always there. He came late and early, driving down from London, spending an hour or two before taking his departure; and when he arrived there came a new master to Mark's Priory.
There is this little bit of conversation between the Lady and her doctor:
"By the way," she called him back from the stairs. "Did you ever meet Studd in India? He was stationed in Poona."
Dr. Amersham's face changed. "In Poona?" he said sharply. "When?"
She shook her head. "I don't know, but from what I've heard he has told people he knew you there; which is another reason why he should leave Marks Priory."
Dr. Amersham knew another, but he kept this to himself.
Poor Studd should have been more careful perhaps of whose wife he was sleeping with or who he was telling the doctor in India story to, because he is about to be found dead. And now the detectives show up:
Tanner saw the photograph of the dead man, examined and took possession of the scarf that had strangled him: a piece of dull red cloth, in one corner of which was a little tin label sewn by the edges, bearing some words in Hindustani, which proved on translation to be the name of the manufacturer.
He saw Lord Lebanon and questioned him. That young man could offer him no solution. He was really fond of Studd—that much Bill had discovered through the butler—and was greatly upset by his death.
The third important member of the household he met as he walked across the Priory fields towards the village. Isla Crane was walking towards him with quick steps and would have passed him, but he stopped her.
"Excuse me—you're Miss Crane, aren't you? I am Detective-Inspector Tanner from the Yard."
To his amazement the colour faded from her cheeks; the hand that went to her lips was shaking. She looked at him in wide-eyed apprehension. He had seen such looks before. People suddenly confronted by the police behave oddly, whether they are innocent or guilty, but he had never expected that a girl of her class would betray such emotion. She was frightened, terrified. He thought that she was on the point of collapsing, and his amazement deepened.
And there you have the frightened lady. Like I said in the beginning, this book was fun.
March 10, 2015
The Seesaws of Lebanon
What kind of person is the young Lord Lebanon really? On the one hand, he seems to be determined to take his own life into his hands and he displays qualities like common sense and empathy, but on the other hand, his status-conscious and bossy mother just has to frown at him and he is ready not only to sign any blank cheque she might feel inclined to give him but also to put up with the presence of the loathsome Dr. Amersham and the two uncouth American footmen Brooks and Gilder his mother has set before his nose. He is even ready to marry his remote cousin Isla Crane at his mother’s behest although he does not care two straws for her. Then a murder case brings Scotland Yard into play, and all of a sudden the few living representatives of the time-honoured house of Lebanon find themselves out of balance and out of sorts.
Edgar Wallace’s novel “The Frightened Lady” (1932) might display clear signs of being sewn with a rather hot needle – for example with regard to the forgery case which is thrown in and then left open – but it still is a very enjoyable book. Not only because of the twist in its tail, which may seem rather contrived to a modern reader, but even more so because of the never-ending verbal feud between Inspector Tanner and his sometimes blundering, sometimes likeable subordinate Totty, who – in order to endow his origins with a sense of dignity – even lays claim to Old Italian roots and is thus a forerunner of Hyacinth Bucket. To see these two policemen hurl understated invectives at each other really compensates for the occasional lull and unevenness in the story.
In short, a very entertaining detective novel!
What kind of person is the young Lord Lebanon really? On the one hand, he seems to be determined to take his own life into his hands and he displays qualities like common sense and empathy, but on the other hand, his status-conscious and bossy mother just has to frown at him and he is ready not only to sign any blank cheque she might feel inclined to give him but also to put up with the presence of the loathsome Dr. Amersham and the two uncouth American footmen Brooks and Gilder his mother has set before his nose. He is even ready to marry his remote cousin Isla Crane at his mother’s behest although he does not care two straws for her. Then a murder case brings Scotland Yard into play, and all of a sudden the few living representatives of the time-honoured house of Lebanon find themselves out of balance and out of sorts.
Edgar Wallace’s novel “The Frightened Lady” (1932) might display clear signs of being sewn with a rather hot needle – for example with regard to the forgery case which is thrown in and then left open – but it still is a very enjoyable book. Not only because of the twist in its tail, which may seem rather contrived to a modern reader, but even more so because of the never-ending verbal feud between Inspector Tanner and his sometimes blundering, sometimes likeable subordinate Totty, who – in order to endow his origins with a sense of dignity – even lays claim to Old Italian roots and is thus a forerunner of Hyacinth Bucket. To see these two policemen hurl understated invectives at each other really compensates for the occasional lull and unevenness in the story.
In short, a very entertaining detective novel!
April 13, 2018
The Frightened Lady by Edgar Wallace
🌟🌟🌟✨/5 stars
Synopsis:
A dead man is found in the castle Marks Priority and so inspector Tanner from Scotland Yard has to go there and search for the murderer. But soon he realizes that not everything in this castle is like it seems.
My thoughts:
…about the story
I liked the story.
It seemed very logical and possessed quite a few very interesting and very surprising twists. Often you think (and hope) that you finally get some relevant information, only to realise soon after, that you didn’t.
This happens quite a few times until you’re presented with Tanners solution in the end.
It was never boring and never felt rushed either, so the pacing was well done. (This somehow sounds as if I’m talking about steak)
…about the characters
All of them have their flaws and little habits that make them seem alive. However, some of them looked a bit flat. And I have to say that I had wished to read more about the motif of the murderer. I know, there’s a big one, but in my opinion, it doesn’t fully explain it.
…about the world
I liked the way the surrounding was described. I also enjoyed the portraying of the life in a village, where rumours spread faster than a wildfire. I also liked that you got to know a bit about the history of this family, and it really does explain quite a bit.
Marrying your cousins usually doesn’t end well, I’m just saying….
…about the style
The descriptions were alright, but I would have wished for a few more. There were no repetitions and the novel was focused on important things. Sometimes the style felt a bit weird, but that could be because I read a German translation, which isn’t exactly a modern one.
And so this novel earns three and a half stars.
🌟🌟🌟✨/5 stars
Synopsis:
A dead man is found in the castle Marks Priority and so inspector Tanner from Scotland Yard has to go there and search for the murderer. But soon he realizes that not everything in this castle is like it seems.
My thoughts:
…about the story
I liked the story.
It seemed very logical and possessed quite a few very interesting and very surprising twists. Often you think (and hope) that you finally get some relevant information, only to realise soon after, that you didn’t.
This happens quite a few times until you’re presented with Tanners solution in the end.
It was never boring and never felt rushed either, so the pacing was well done. (This somehow sounds as if I’m talking about steak)
…about the characters
All of them have their flaws and little habits that make them seem alive. However, some of them looked a bit flat. And I have to say that I had wished to read more about the motif of the murderer. I know, there’s a big one, but in my opinion, it doesn’t fully explain it.
…about the world
I liked the way the surrounding was described. I also enjoyed the portraying of the life in a village, where rumours spread faster than a wildfire. I also liked that you got to know a bit about the history of this family, and it really does explain quite a bit.
Marrying your cousins usually doesn’t end well, I’m just saying….
…about the style
The descriptions were alright, but I would have wished for a few more. There were no repetitions and the novel was focused on important things. Sometimes the style felt a bit weird, but that could be because I read a German translation, which isn’t exactly a modern one.
And so this novel earns three and a half stars.
February 25, 2016
Ich bin immer noch etwas hin und her gerissen. Mag ich es? Ich fand ich ganz okay. Ich bin kein Krimi Fan, aber ab und zu schleiche ich mich aus dem mir bekannten und lese auch einen Krimi. Einen Klassiker.
Viel kann ich gar nicht dazu sagen, denn sonst würde ich vermutlich doch einiges verraren. Schließlich sagt der Titel schon, worauf es hinausläuft.
Aber es war spannend und interessant, wenngleich ich es an manchen Stellen etwas zu überdreht finde.
Ich denke, ich sollte weiter dran bleiben und mehr von ihm lesen.
Viel kann ich gar nicht dazu sagen, denn sonst würde ich vermutlich doch einiges verraren. Schließlich sagt der Titel schon, worauf es hinausläuft.
Aber es war spannend und interessant, wenngleich ich es an manchen Stellen etwas zu überdreht finde.
Ich denke, ich sollte weiter dran bleiben und mehr von ihm lesen.
November 5, 2023
Antologia - I Mammut - Dieci sfumature di giallo
Una lettura piacevole e scorrevole per un gran bel giallo; molti colpi di scena che ti fanno sospettare ora di uno, ora di un altro...anche se, facendo bene attenzione, qualcosa si riesce ad intuire 😆.
Originale l’idea di Wallace di . Questo primo approccio con Wallace è andato piuttosto bene, leggerò sicuramente altro.
Una lettura piacevole e scorrevole per un gran bel giallo; molti colpi di scena che ti fanno sospettare ora di uno, ora di un altro...anche se, facendo bene attenzione, qualcosa si riesce ad intuire 😆.
Originale l’idea di Wallace di . Questo primo approccio con Wallace è andato piuttosto bene, leggerò sicuramente altro.
December 14, 2018
Zieht sich sehr lange hin, um am Ende dann eine zwar unerwartete aber nicht wirklich spannende Wendung zu nehmen. Schade, hatte irgendwie mehr Potential. Vielleicht merkt man, als "moderner" Leser dem Buch sein Alter etwas an.
November 30, 2021
Brooks era dispus să admită că americanii nu pot deveni buni majordomi şi, în acest mod, izbutea să-l potolească totdeauna pe majordomul-şef Kelver.
Brooks era un bărbat înalt şi voinic. Avea păr cărunt, cam rar, şi un accent ciudat. Molfăia mereu gumă de mestecat şi, când era singur în camera lui, fuma cu plăcere pipă, folosind un tutun scump, adus din California.
Domnul Brooks, majordom, şi domnul Guilder, de asemeni majordom, nu se potriveau deloc cu mediul de la castelul Marcs Priory, nici cu acela al satului Marcs Thornton.
Erau amândoi nişte majordomi incapabili şi nu păreau dispuşi să devină mai pricepuţi, profitând de experienţa acumulată. Însă erau oameni simpatici, nu deranjau pe nimeni şi se purtau deosebit de amabil cu ceilalţi servitori. Aveau, mai ales, calitatea de a nu pomeni nimănui, niciodată, greşelile colegilor lor, chiar când aceste greşeli îi deranjau personal.
Toţi îi simpatizau, deşi nutreau oarecare teamă faţă de Guilder. Acesta era un bărbat corpolent, un adevărat uriaş, cu trăsături aspre şi voce tunătoare. Avea părul negru, destul de lung, şi o putere formidabilă.
John Tilling, pădurarul cel roşcovan, care era chinuit de o idee fixă, descoperi această forţă.
Soţia lui Tilling era, fără îndoială, frumoasă, însă cam zvăpăiată. Îşi petrecea vremea făurind visuri, pe care, adesea, le înfăptuia, fără să-i pese de scandalul stârnit. Fiindcă dacă purtarea ei ar fi ajuns la urechile lady-ei Lebanon, pădurarul ar fi fost concediat deîndată…
Aşadar, într-o după amiază, când Guilder străbătea Priory Field, John Tilling îl opri.
― Un moment, te rog, zise el, privindu-l ameninţător pe majordom. În ultimul timp, ai fost pe la mine, acasă, de vreo două ori, când eu nu eram acolo. Nu-i aşa?
― Da, am fost, răspunse americanul, vorbind rar ca de obicei, m-a trimis lady Lebanon să mă interesez de ouă: socoteala nu se prea potrivea. Tu nu erai acasă, şi de aceea am trecut pe acolo şi în ziua următoare.
― Iar eu lipseam şi de data asta, mârâi Tilling, a cărui faţă se înroşi mai tare, devenind aproape cărămizie.
Guilder îl privi zâmbind. Era clar că se distra pe socoteala lui. Habar n-avea de necazurile pădurarului, deoarece bârfele îi ajungeau foarte rar la urechi şi, dealtfel, nici nu-l interesau.
― Da, într-adevăr, răspunse. Erai undeva, în pădure.
― Însă nevastă-mea era acasă, observă Tilling. Ai băut ceai cu dânsa, nu-i aşa?
Guilder îl privi mirat şi indispus. Zâmbetul îi pieri de pe buze şi se încruntă.
― Ce vrei să spui? întrebă cu asprime.
Brooks era un bărbat înalt şi voinic. Avea păr cărunt, cam rar, şi un accent ciudat. Molfăia mereu gumă de mestecat şi, când era singur în camera lui, fuma cu plăcere pipă, folosind un tutun scump, adus din California.
Domnul Brooks, majordom, şi domnul Guilder, de asemeni majordom, nu se potriveau deloc cu mediul de la castelul Marcs Priory, nici cu acela al satului Marcs Thornton.
Erau amândoi nişte majordomi incapabili şi nu păreau dispuşi să devină mai pricepuţi, profitând de experienţa acumulată. Însă erau oameni simpatici, nu deranjau pe nimeni şi se purtau deosebit de amabil cu ceilalţi servitori. Aveau, mai ales, calitatea de a nu pomeni nimănui, niciodată, greşelile colegilor lor, chiar când aceste greşeli îi deranjau personal.
Toţi îi simpatizau, deşi nutreau oarecare teamă faţă de Guilder. Acesta era un bărbat corpolent, un adevărat uriaş, cu trăsături aspre şi voce tunătoare. Avea părul negru, destul de lung, şi o putere formidabilă.
John Tilling, pădurarul cel roşcovan, care era chinuit de o idee fixă, descoperi această forţă.
Soţia lui Tilling era, fără îndoială, frumoasă, însă cam zvăpăiată. Îşi petrecea vremea făurind visuri, pe care, adesea, le înfăptuia, fără să-i pese de scandalul stârnit. Fiindcă dacă purtarea ei ar fi ajuns la urechile lady-ei Lebanon, pădurarul ar fi fost concediat deîndată…
Aşadar, într-o după amiază, când Guilder străbătea Priory Field, John Tilling îl opri.
― Un moment, te rog, zise el, privindu-l ameninţător pe majordom. În ultimul timp, ai fost pe la mine, acasă, de vreo două ori, când eu nu eram acolo. Nu-i aşa?
― Da, am fost, răspunse americanul, vorbind rar ca de obicei, m-a trimis lady Lebanon să mă interesez de ouă: socoteala nu se prea potrivea. Tu nu erai acasă, şi de aceea am trecut pe acolo şi în ziua următoare.
― Iar eu lipseam şi de data asta, mârâi Tilling, a cărui faţă se înroşi mai tare, devenind aproape cărămizie.
Guilder îl privi zâmbind. Era clar că se distra pe socoteala lui. Habar n-avea de necazurile pădurarului, deoarece bârfele îi ajungeau foarte rar la urechi şi, dealtfel, nici nu-l interesau.
― Da, într-adevăr, răspunse. Erai undeva, în pădure.
― Însă nevastă-mea era acasă, observă Tilling. Ai băut ceai cu dânsa, nu-i aşa?
Guilder îl privi mirat şi indispus. Zâmbetul îi pieri de pe buze şi se încruntă.
― Ce vrei să spui? întrebă cu asprime.
May 20, 2025
"I don't know," he said vaguely. "What's this place—Marks Priory, isn't it? Who's the owner—Lord Lebanon, isn't it?"
He extended the fingers of his hand, and ticked off the household.
"Here they are—as they count. Number one. Dr. Blooming Amersham, Lord High Controller. Number two, her ladyship. Number three"—he was at a loss for number three—"I suppose you'd say Miss Crane, though I've got nothing against her. Also ran, Lord Lebanon!"
This is Wallace at his best.
There's something very wrong at Marks Priory, the ancestral seat of Viscount Lebanon. There are American footmen, who don't obey their Master, and get away with it. There is Lady Lebanon, who controls her son, the current Lord, with an iron grip and steely eyes. There's Dr. Amersham, who acts as if he thinks he's the real Master of the house. And there's Miss Crane, who seems scared of her own shadow. There's also all the other serving staff, who get locked out of the Family Wing every evening.
The chauffeur, Studd, apparently knows things about the dear Dr.'s past the man would probably like to stay hidden there. He hints as much to the young Lord, and the butler. The same night, returning from a masked ball at the village, he gets strangled to death.
This kicks off an investigation involving infidelity, counterfeit money, assault attempts, attempted and completed murders, and all the twists and turns one comes to expect from a Wallace novel.
He extended the fingers of his hand, and ticked off the household.
"Here they are—as they count. Number one. Dr. Blooming Amersham, Lord High Controller. Number two, her ladyship. Number three"—he was at a loss for number three—"I suppose you'd say Miss Crane, though I've got nothing against her. Also ran, Lord Lebanon!"
This is Wallace at his best.
There's something very wrong at Marks Priory, the ancestral seat of Viscount Lebanon. There are American footmen, who don't obey their Master, and get away with it. There is Lady Lebanon, who controls her son, the current Lord, with an iron grip and steely eyes. There's Dr. Amersham, who acts as if he thinks he's the real Master of the house. And there's Miss Crane, who seems scared of her own shadow. There's also all the other serving staff, who get locked out of the Family Wing every evening.
The chauffeur, Studd, apparently knows things about the dear Dr.'s past the man would probably like to stay hidden there. He hints as much to the young Lord, and the butler. The same night, returning from a masked ball at the village, he gets strangled to death.
This kicks off an investigation involving infidelity, counterfeit money, assault attempts, attempted and completed murders, and all the twists and turns one comes to expect from a Wallace novel.
July 23, 2018
Kuigi lugu ise oli täitsa põnev, jäi kirjutamisstiil minu jaoks hüplikuks või kaugeks. Tegelased olid karakteersed ning nende teod või väljaütlemised ebausutavad. Eriti puudutas see just detektiive.
Eks osalt või süüdistada muidugi ka raamatu vanust (kirjutatud pea 100 aastat tagasi), ent mitmed minu lemmikraamatutest on umbes samast ajastust. Nii et tegelikult selles asi olla ei saa.
Eks osalt või süüdistada muidugi ka raamatu vanust (kirjutatud pea 100 aastat tagasi), ent mitmed minu lemmikraamatutest on umbes samast ajastust. Nii et tegelikult selles asi olla ei saa.
February 17, 2020
Edgar Wallace demonstrating that you can follow the rules of detective fiction without being mechanistic and without the puzzle overwhelming either the adventure or pace of the storytelling. And, as always, littered with sardonic observations. Good fun for a windy, rainy night's reading.
October 12, 2025
Yawn. So obvious.
January 2, 2021
harmlose Lesekost; stellenweise unterhaltsam
April 11, 2013
Piuttosto ingenuo
Edgar Wallace è considerato uno dei maestri del giallo. Mi aspettavo perciò molto da questo libro: devo dire che - forse anche a causa della traduzione che anche in un precedente caso di giallo Mondadori non mi era sembrata all'altezza - il libro mi è sembrato piuttosto prevedibile, con dialoghi ingenui, personaggi appena abbozzati oppure stereotipati. Riproverò con qualche altro libro di Wallace, magari con traduzione migliore.
Edgar Wallace è considerato uno dei maestri del giallo. Mi aspettavo perciò molto da questo libro: devo dire che - forse anche a causa della traduzione che anche in un precedente caso di giallo Mondadori non mi era sembrata all'altezza - il libro mi è sembrato piuttosto prevedibile, con dialoghi ingenui, personaggi appena abbozzati oppure stereotipati. Riproverò con qualche altro libro di Wallace, magari con traduzione migliore.
August 8, 2015
Questo è un bel giallo. Ci sono tutti gli elementi classici, anche il maggiordomo, la storia prende e il colpevole non è per nulla scontato. Alcune parti ne rallentano l'azione ma, pensando al periodo in cui fu scritto, è accettabile.
May 18, 2012
What a great book! I enjoyed this, I didn't expect the ending and it was very surprising at some parts. My first E. Wallace book, and i'm going to get as soon as possible other books written by him.
September 26, 2013
In my opinion, one of Wallace's best. This book has a mystery, a romance, an old castle with a locked room, some scandal, some comic relief. Well-done, with a few surprises.
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April 20, 2016A.L. Burt, 1932
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