The Marble Hands by Bernard Capes is offered here in a clean English digital edition prepared for fluent ebook reading. The work stands within classics and gives modern readers direct access to a public-domain classic with navigable structure and a restrained typographic presentation. The opening pages establish the book's atmosphere with this first movement: We left our bicycles by the little lych-gate and entered the old church yard. Heriot had told me frankly that he did not want to com...

Roast Beef, Medium: The Business Adventures of Emma McChesney by Bernard Capes: Embark on a literary journey through the adventures of business and intrigue with “Roast Beef, Medium“ by Bernard Capes. This collection of stories invites readers to delve into the captivating narratives surrounding Emma McChesney, exploring the realms of business and the unexpected twists that await.About “Roast Beef, Medium” by Bernard Capes:...

Loaves and Fishes by Bernard Capes: Embark on a literary feast for the soul with “Loaves and Fishes“ by Bernard Capes. This collection of stories serves as a nourishing experience, offering readers a diverse and captivating array of narratives that explore the complexities of the human condition.About “Loaves and Fishes” by Bernard Capes: Immerse yourself in the rich storytelling of Bernard Capes a...

Bernard Edward Joseph Capes was born on the 30th August 1854 in London. He was one of 11 children.His early work was as a journalist and this developed into writing many short stories for the periodicals of the time including Blackwood's, Cassell's, Cornhill Magazine, Illustrated London News, Macmillan's Magazine, Mall Magazine, Pearson's Magazine, The Idler, and The Queen.It took him many years to decide that writing full-time could be a sustainable career path. His initia...

Bernard Edward Joseph Capes was born on 30th August 1854 in London. He was one of 11 children.His early work was as a journalist and this developed into writing many short stories for the periodicals of the time including Blackwood's, Butterfly, Cassell's, Cornhill Magazine, Hutton's Magazine, Illustrated London News, Lippincott's, Macmillan's Magazine, Literature, New Witness, Pall Mall Magazine, Pearson's Magazine, The Idler, The New Weekly, and The Queen.It took him many...

Bernard Edward Joseph Capes was born on 30th August 1854 in London. He was one of 11 children.His early work was as a journalist and this developed into writing many short stories for the periodicals of the time including Blackwood's, Butterfly, Cassell's, Cornhill Magazine, Hutton's Magazine, Illustrated London News, Lippincott's, Macmillan's Magazine, Literature, New Witness, Pall Mall Magazine, Pearson's Magazine, The Idler, The New Weekly, and The Queen.It took him many...

Bernard Edward Joseph Capes was born on 30th August 1854 in London. He was one of 11 children.His early work was as a journalist and this developed into writing many short stories for the periodicals of the time including Blackwood's, Butterfly, Cassell's, Cornhill Magazine, Hutton's Magazine, Illustrated London News, Lippincott's, Macmillan's Magazine, Literature, New Witness, Pall Mall Magazine, Pearson's Magazine, The Idler, The New Weekly, and The Queen.It took him many...

Unfortunately, specific details regarding the plot of "The Mill of Silence" are not readily available. However, Capes was recognized for his ability to create eerie atmospheres and intriguing plots within his stories, often incorporating elements of mystery, suspense, and the supernatural.The title itself suggests a setting or motif associated with silence, possibly hinting at a remote or isolated location such as a mill, where mysterious or unsettling events might take place. Capes' works...

It was a very hot day in Colorno, the petty Versailles of the Dukes of Parma. The little channels irrigating the plains all about, and drawn every one from the near depleted basin of the small river which a few miles northward ran into the Po, were spun as thin as silver wire. The effect from a distance was as of a network of snail-tracks, stiffened in a dry morning, and all making for the oasis of the village, where was to be found at least the shade of trees and gardens. Elsewhere there ...

One morning I awoke in La Bourbe and looked across at Deputy Bertrand as he lay sprawled over his truckle-bed, his black hair like a girl’s scattered on the pillow, his eyelids glued to his flushed cheeks, his face, all blossoming with dissipation, set into the expression of one who is sure of nothing but of his own present surrender to nothingness. Beside him were his clothes, flung upon a chair, the tri-colour sash, emblematic stole of his confused ritual, embracing all; and on a nail in...

I look first to your gallantry, my dear Alcide, to see that this statement is not misconstrued. That I have a past argues nothing of my remoteness from it. In comparison with the immortality which is surely to be mine, everything on this side is youth. I am seventeen, or thirty-seven, or whatever I choose; and I intend that Heaven, whenever it calls me, shall find me irresistible. Possessing all the ages, it cannot grudge me my arbitrary disposition of my own little term. Now, tell your fr...

In February of the year 1809, when the French were sat down before Saragossa—then enduring its second and more terrific siege within a period of six months—it came to the knowledge of the Duc d’Abrantes, at that time the General commanding, that his army, though undoubtedly the salt of the earth, was yet so little sufficient to itself in the matter of seasoning, that it was reduced to the necessity of flavouring its soup with the saltpetre out of its own cartridges. In this emergency, d’Ab...