HORROR books online

Reading books horror If you are looking for a good book horror, you should visit our website. Electronic library is gaining popularity. Influenced by modern technology and the advent of new gadgets, people are increasingly turning to electronic libraries because it allows them to read online everywhere . Every reader thanks to his smartphone, laptop or computer, can visit our website at any time. Reading ebooks help people to make good use of free time. Our elibrary has a huge selection of genres for every taste and request.


Today we want to introduce you horror genre. Horrors are very popular among people who like to tickle their nerves. Main characters in the horror genre are demons, evil spirits, monsters,vampires and ghouls. But it’s very often, when book based on true events, for example psychological thrillers.
In Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome, horrors were told to each other like myths, that carry the story of the death and afterlife. Ancient people believe that reincarnation exists. Modern horror novels are include new fantastical creatures, like ghosts, vampires, werewolves, and witches.



Nowadays it’s very hard to force a person to believe in the truth of history, but modern reader just expects to be frightened and shocked. Horror books on our website are elicit a sense of dread in the reader through frightening images, themes, and situations.
The atmosphere of the book provokes our imagination. If the book will in your mind long time after reading , so the horror writer did his job well. After horror genre books you can even get insomnia or very bad and scary dreams.But that shouldn't stop you from reading horror ebooks. So our electronic library invite you to be a part of the mystery world of free ebooks without registration.




Take a look at the Thriller or Mystery,Crime section where you can find your favorite books

Read books online » Horror » The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker (ebook and pdf reader .txt) 📖

Book online «The Jewel of Seven Stars by Bram Stoker (ebook and pdf reader .txt) 📖». Author Bram Stoker



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He glanced

around at us; and as his eyes lighted on Nurse Kennedy his eyebrows went

up a trifle. She noted the look, and glanced interrogatively at Miss

Trelawny, who flashed back a reply with a glance. She went quietly from

the room, closing the door behind her. Mr. Corbeck looked first at me,

with a strong man’s natural impulse to learn from a man rather than a

woman; then at Miss Trelawny, with a remembrance of the duty of

courtesy, and said:

 

“Tell me all about it. How it began and when!” Miss Trelawny looked at

me appeallingly; and forthwith I told him all that I knew. He seemed to

make no motion during the whole time; but insensibly the bronze face

became steel. When, at the end, I told him of Mr. Marvin’s visit and of

the Power of Attorney, his look began to brighten. And when, seeing his

interest in the matter, I went more into detail as to its terms, he

spoke:

 

“Good! Now I know where my duty lies!”

 

With a sinking heart I heard him. Such a phrase, coming at such a time,

seemed to close the door to my hopes of enlightenment.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked, feeling that my question was a feeble one.

 

His answer emphasized my fears:

 

“Trelawny knows what he is doing. He had some definite purpose in all

that he did; and we must not thwart him. He evidently expected

something to happen, and guarded himself at all points.”

 

“Not at all points!” I said impulsively. “There must have been a weak

spot somewhere, or he wouldn’t be lying here like that!” Somehow his

impassiveness surprised me. I had expected that he would find a valid

argument in my phrase; but it did not move him, at least not in the way

I thought. Something like a smile flickered over his swarthy face as he

answered me:

 

“This is not the end! Trelawny did not guard himself to no purpose.

Doubtless, he expected this too; or at any rate the possibility of it.”

 

“Do you know what he expected, or from what source?” The questioner was

Miss Trelawny.

 

The answer came at once: “No! I know nothing of either. I can guess.

. .” He stopped suddenly.

 

“Guess what?” The suppressed excitement in the girl’s voice was akin to

anguish. The steely look came over the swarthy face again; but there was

tenderness and courtesy in both voice and manner as he replied:

 

“Believe me, I would do anything I honestly could to relieve you

anxiety. But in this I have a higher duty.”

 

“What duty?”

 

“Silence!” As he spoke the word, the strong mouth closed like a steel

trap.

 

We all remained silent for a few minutes. In the intensity of our

thinking, the silence became a positive thing; the small sounds of life

within and without the house seemed intrusive. The first to break it

was Miss Trelawny. I had seen an idea-a hope-flash in her eyes; but she

steadied herself before speaking:

 

“What was the urgent subject on which you wanted to see me, knowing that

my Father was-not available?” The pause showed her mastery of her

thoughts.

 

The instantaneous change in Mr. Corbeck was almost ludicrous. His start

of surprise, coming close upon his iron-clad impassiveness, was like a

pantomimic change. But all idea of comedy was swept away by the tragic

earnestness with which he remembered his original purpose.

 

“My God!” he said, as he raised his hand from the chair back on which it

rested, and beat it down with a violence which would in itself have

arrested attention. His brows corrugated as he went on: “I quite

forgot! What a loss! Now of all times! Just at the moment of success!

He lying there helpless, and my tongue tied! Not able to raise hand or

foot in my ignorance of his wishes!”

 

“What is it? Oh, do tell us! I am so anxious about my dear Father! Is

it any new trouble? I hope not! oh, I hope not! I have had such

anxiety and trouble already! It alarms me afresh to hear you speak so!

Won’t you tell me something to allay this terrible anxiety and

uncertainty?”

 

He drew his sturdy form up to his full height as he said:

 

“Alas! I cannot, may not, tell you anything. It is his secret.” He

pointed to the bed. “And yet-and yet I came here for his advice, his

counsel, his assistance. And he lies there helpless… .And time is

flying by us! It may soon be too late!”

 

“What is it? what is it?” broke in Miss Trelawny in a sort of passion of

anxiety, her face drawn with pain. “Oh, speak! Say something! This

anxiety, and horror, and mystery are killing me!” Mr. Corbeck calmed

himself by a great effort.

 

“I may not tell you details; but I have had a great loss. My mission,

in which I have spent three years, was successful. I discovered all

that I sought-and more; and brought them home with me safely.

Treasures, priceless in themselves, but doubly precious to him by whose

wishes and instructions I sought them. I arrived in London only last

night, and when I woke this morning my precious charge was stolen.

Stolen in some mysterious way. Not a soul in London knew that I was

arriving. No one but myself knew what was in the shabby portmanteau

that I carried. My room had but one door, and that I locked and bolted.

The room was high in the house, five stories up, so that no entrance

could have been obtained by the window. Indeed, I had closed the window

myself and shut the hasp, for I wished to be secure in every way. This

morning the hasp was untouched… .And yet my portmanteau was empty.

The lamps were gone! …There! it is out. I went to Egypt to search

for a set of antique lamps which Mr. Trelawny wished to trace. With

incredible labour, and through many dangers, I followed them. I brought

them safe home… .And now!” He turned away much moved. Even his

iron nature was breaking down under the sense of loss.

 

Miss Trelawny stepped over and laid her hand on his arm. I looked at

her in amazement. All the passion and pain which had so moved her

seemed to have taken the form of resolution. Her form was erect, her

eyes blazed; energy was manifest in every nerve and fibre of her being.

Even her voice was full of nervous power as she spoke. It was apparent

that she was a marvellously strong woman, and that her strength could

answer when called upon.

 

“We must act at once! My Father’s wishes must be carried out if it is

possible to us. Mr. Ross, you are a lawyer. We have actually in the

house a man whom you consider one of the best detectives in London.

Surely we can do something. We can begin at once!” Mr. Corbeck took

new life from her enthusiasm.

 

“Good! You are your Father’s daughter!” was all he said. But his

admiration for her energy was manifested by the impulsive way in which

he took her hand. I moved over to the door. I was going to bring

Sergeant Daw; and from her look of approval, I knew that Margaret-Miss

Trelawny-understood. I was at the door when Mr. Corbeck called me back.

 

“One moment,” he said, “before we bring a stranger on the scene. It

must be borne in mind that he is not to know what you know now, that the

lamps were the objects of a prolonged and difficult and dangerous

search. All I can tell him, all that he must know from any source, is

that some of my property has been stolen. I must describe some of the

lamps, especially one, for it is of gold; and my fear is lest the thief,

ignorant of its historic worth, may, in order to cover up his crime,

have it melted. I would willingly pay ten, twenty, a hundred, a

thousand times its intrinsic value rather than have it destroyed. I

shall tell him only what is necessary. So, please, let me answer any

questions he may ask; unless, of course, I ask you or refer to either of

you for the answer.” We both nodded acquiescence. Then a thought

struck me and I said:

 

“By the way, if it be necessary to keep this matter quiet it will be

better to have it if possible a private job for the Detective. If once

a thing gets to Scotland Yard it is out of our power to keep it quiet,

and further secrecy may be impossible. I shall sound Sergeant Daw

before he comes up. If I say nothing, it will mean that he accepts the

task and will deal with it privately.” Mr. Corbeck answered at once:

 

“Secrecy is everything. The one thing I dread is that the lamps, or

some of them, may be destroyed at once.” To my intense astonishment

Miss Trelawny spoke out at once, but quietly, in a decided voice:

 

“They will not be destroyed; nor any of them!” Mr. Corbeck actually

smiled in amazement.

 

“How on earth do you know?” he asked. Her answer was still more

incomprehensible:

 

“I don’t know how I know it; but know it I do. I feel it all through

me; as though it were a conviction which has been with me all my life!”

Chapter VIII The Finding of the Lamps

Sergeant Daw at first made some demur; but finally agreed to advise

privately on a matter which might be suggested to him. He added that I

was to remember that he only undertook to advise; for if action were

required he might have to refer the matter to headquarters. With this

understanding I left him in the study, and brought Miss Trelawny and Mr.

Corbeck to him. Nurse Kennedy resumed her place at the bedside before

we left the room.

 

I could not but admire the cautious, cool-headed precision with which

the traveller stated his case. He did not seem to conceal anything, and

yet he gave the least possible description of the objects missing. He

did not enlarge on the mystery of the case; he seemed to look on it as

an ordinary hotel theft. Knowing, as I did, that his one object was to

recover the articles before their identity could be obliterated, I could

see the rare intellectual skill with which he gave the necessary matter

and held back all else, though without seeming to do so. “Truly,”

thought I, “this man has learned the lesson of the Eastern bazaars; and

with Western intellect has improved upon his masters!” He quite

conveyed his idea to the Detective, who, after thinking the matter over

for a few moments, said:

 

“Pot or scale? that is the question.”

 

“What does that mean?” asked the other, keenly alert.

 

“An old thieves phrase from Birmingham. I thought that in these days of

slang everyone knew that. In old times at Brum, which had a lot of

small metal industries, the gold-and silver-smiths used to buy metal

from almost anyone who came along. And as metal in small quantities

could generally be had cheap when they didn’t ask where it came from, it

got to be a custom to ask only one thing-whether the customer wanted the

goods melted, in which case the buyer made the price, and the melting-pot was always on the fire. If it was to be preserved in its present

state at the buyer’s option, it went into the scale and fetched standard

price for old metal.

 

“There is a good deal

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