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Reading books fiction Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself.



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Read books online » Fiction » Long Live the King by Guy Boothby (sites to read books for free TXT) 📖

Book online «Long Live the King by Guy Boothby (sites to read books for free TXT) 📖». Author Guy Boothby



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serve our purpose."

For the next few days he was occupied in a brown study, turning and twisting the situation in his mind. Then an idea occurred to him, an idea so luminous that he wondered he had not thought of it before. He described it to Bertram, who, sanguine as ever, declared that it could not be anything but successful. They therefore set off once more to interview the colonel, to whom Max explained his scheme.

"I scarcely know what to say," the other replied, when he had heard him out. "The notion certainly seems feasible enough, and, given a considerable slice of luck, might possibly succeed; the question is, however, whether the enemy would allow it to be carried out. One small slip and it would result in a _fiasco_. However, I will lay it before General Groplau without delay, and hear what he has to say. If there is any chance of success in it you may be sure it will be tried. The Prince Regent is expected here next week, and I have no doubt the general would like to present him with the keys of the city as a souvenir of his first visit to his army."

Bertram has since informed me that Max turned very pale on hearing this. The colonel, however, was too much occupied with another matter, which had just been presented to him to notice his consternation. Even had he done so, I doubt very much whether he would have had any suspicion of the cause which had given rise to it. Later that evening he sent an orderly to call Max to his presence once more.

"I have spoken to the general," he said, "and I may tell you that he is favourably inclined towards the scheme you have submitted. He desires to question you upon the subject personally, so that you had better make your way to his quarters with me and tell him everything."

Max did as he was directed, and followed his colonel along the hillside to the chateau, where General Groplau had taken up his residence. The General was in his study.

"Your commanding officer," he said, as Max entered, "has informed me that you and one of your fellow-men are desirous of making an attempt to enter the city. Furnish me, in detail, with your plan."

Thus encouraged, Max set to work and gave the general an outline of the idea he had formed in his own mind. After he had finished, the other rapped upon the writing-table softly with his fingers, and his brow was knitted in thought. On his calling for a plan it was brought to him, and he studied it attentively.

"I hear you have already crossed the river under cover of night. Is this so?"

Max respectfully replied that it was, whereupon the other put several further questions to him. When he had heard the answers he once more turned to the plan before him.

"You have an adventurous spirit," he said, looking up after some minutes had elapsed, "I have heard of you before. If I am not mistaken, you are the man to whom I offered a commission, and who surprised me by declining it. Is not that so?"

Max replied in the affirmative, and when he saw the searching way in which the general scanned his face, began to wish he had not been so ready to come to headquarters.

"Well, well," said the other at last, "you have your own reasons, I suppose; reasons which have nothing whatsoever to do with me. However, with regard to this scheme of yours, it seems feasible, and if you are willing to make the attempt I shall be pleased to grant you the necessary permission. A dark night must be chosen, however, and the men must be selected with the utmost care. If your attempt is successful, you will have done a deed which I do not think you will have reason ever to regret. If it fails, I don't suppose we shall hear of you again. Now you can go and make your preparations. Inform your commanding officer of everything you do. And, above all, do not act until you hear from me."

Thus encouraged, Max spent the next few days in preparing for the desperate attempt upon which he and Bertram had so set their hearts. There was so much to be done, so many matters to be arranged; there were competent and trustworthy men to be chosen and instructed in the parts they were to play, and, above all, there was the necessity of preventing the enemy from having any suspicion of what they were about to do.

December 12th, as, alas! many unfortunate families have good reason to remember, opened with sunshine, and was more like a spring than a winter's day. Towards noon, however, clouds appeared in the sky, and as day closed in, snow commenced to fall, and showed every sign of continuing. Nothing could have been better suited to the expedition Max had in view. To his commanding officer he applied for permission to act that night, which permission, all the necessary preparations being made, was readily accorded him. It was still snowing heavily, and, in consequence, the night was so dark and thick that it was scarcely possible to see half a dozen steps ahead. Sad though the recollections of that dreadful time must naturally be to me, for the honour of my House, I like to try and picture Max as he was at that moment. It was his fertile brain which had originated the scheme; it was he who was leading the assault. His valour was well known to the men who were accompanying him, and they would follow wherever he might lead; nevertheless, I fancy they would have gone with him with even greater eagerness had they been aware that their leader was also their king. In order that their presence should run no risk of attracting attention, the order was given to advance towards the river in skirmishing order. Once there they laid themselves down in a sheltered spot upon the bank and waited while Max, who this time would not permit Bertram to accompany him, made his preparations for crossing the river. A small raft, capable of carrying the implements and the stores it was necessary he should take with him, had already been built, and this, with its precious cargo, was now placed in the stream. The men had been instructed before setting out that not a word was to be spoken or a movement made until Max rejoined them. Then, creeping down the bank he lowered himself into the black, icy water below, and struck out for mid-stream, pushing his raft before him as he went. So heavy was the snowstorm, and consequently so dark was the night, that he could see nothing of his direction, and was therefore compelled to trust mainly to chance, in order to arrive safely at the proper spot on the other side. Above all, he knew he must make no noise. While, under existing conditions, he had small fear of being observed by the sentries on the battlements above, yet he had no desire to run any unnecessary risks.

Only let one of them, he argued, entertain the least suspicion of what was going on below, and farewell to the success of his plans. As events turned out, he was luckier than he expected to be. Having made better allowance for the sluggish current than he had imagined, he was at last rewarded by feeling the further side of the raft grating against the bank. Next moment his feet touched the bottom, and he knew that he was at his destination. So far, everything had progressed admirably, but it was at this point that his real work began. Having reached the security of the bank, he removed the various articles from the raft, drew it out of the water, and placed it carefully against the wall. He feared that if he sent it floating on down stream, it might chance to be observed from the gates, and thus suspicion be aroused. Then, with as little noise as possible, he set to work to dig a hole at the foot of the wall; this finished, he began another one, a short distance further along the shelving bank. The ground was frozen, and so loud did the ring of the pick seem upon it that every moment he expected to receive a challenge from the walls above and to hear a bullet whistle across the water.

In something less than an hour, however, the mines with which he had been furnished were properly laid, after the fashion in which he had been instructed by the engineers. Now, if only he could manage to apply the match to the slow fuses unseen by the enemy, and to make his way back to the men who were waiting for him on the opposite bank, all appeared as if it would be well. Using the raft he had brought with him as a screen, he lit a match and applied it to the fuse. As soon as it had ignited, he crept along the bank and did the same to the second mine; then, having reassured himself that both were burning steadily, he slipped into the water and struck out to join his comrades, and to await the result of his labours. As he reached the opposite shore the clocks in the beleagured city struck midnight, the hour at which the remainder of troops were to take up their positions at the various posts assigned to them. Snow was still falling heavily, and the wind blew mournfully across the plain as if in anticipation of the agonising drama that was soon to be acted. The fuses were timed to burn in twenty minutes, and before that time had elapsed it was certain that the guards would be changed at the main gates, the objective it was so necessary they should reach. To the hundred men crouching upon the bank every minute seemed an hour. To Max, wet and cold as he was, each was like an eternity. He was possessed by all sorts of fears. What if the fuses should have gone out! What if any mistake should have been made in the arrangements, and the troops not be in their proper places at the stipulated time! What if, when they had broken in, the garrison should turn out and intercept them before they could reach the main gate and overpower the guard! In the horrible uncertainty of the moment, anything seemed likely to happen. Again and again he tried to be patient, but his efforts were in vain. Surely the fuses must be near the mines by this time. If daylight should come all would be lost. He looked about him as the thought occurred, almost expecting to see the dawn breaking over the mountains. Then, with a suddenness that was terrifying, and with a roar that might have been heard for many miles, and with a wealth of flame that lit up the country-side, the first of the mines exploded, followed scarcely an instant later by its fellow. For a moment the air was filled with the shattered fragments of the walls, some of which fell among the men waiting on the river bank, some in the river itself, but none in the doomed city. Then Max sprang to his feet.

"Come, my lads," he cried, "follow me!"

Rifle in hand he dashed into the river, the men imitated his example, and almost before anyone could have told what had happened they were half-way to the other side. Before they reached the opposite bank, however, the sound of another explosion on the further side of the city came to them, followed by a
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