United States or Jersey ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Brayne was an atheist or a Mormon or a Christian Scientist; but he was ready to pour money into any intellectual vessel, so long as it was an untried vessel. One of his hobbies was to wait for the American Shakespeare a hobby more patient than angling. He admired Walt Whitman, but thought that Luke P. Tanner, of Paris, Pa., was more "progressive" than Whitman any day.
He lay in his berth; his large eyes were alight with fever, and he was talking ceaselessly, now in broken whispers, now with a proud defiance in his husky tones. "God knows what the devils did to him," murmured Henry Brayne. "He was once a proper figure of a man; but starvation and ill usage have worn him to a shadow!" Aye, but a shadow with a gnawing sorrow at its heart.
Father Brown was still bending over the head with white hair, and he said, without looking up: "I suppose it is quite certain that Brayne cut off this head, too." "Well, it seems common sense," said Valentin, with his hands in his pockets. "Killed in the same way as the other. Found within a few yards of the other. And sliced by the same weapon which we know he carried away."
He made a few rapid notes upon paper in front of him, and then said shortly: "Is everybody here?" "Not Mr. Brayne," said the Duchess of Mont St. Michel, looking round. "No," said Lord Galloway in a hoarse, harsh voice. "And not Mr. Neil O'Brien, I fancy. I saw that gentleman walking in the garden when the corpse was still warm." "Ivan," said the detective, "go and fetch Commandant O'Brien and Mr.
He liked anything that he thought "progressive." He thought Valentin "progressive," thereby doing him a grave injustice. The solid appearance of Julius K. Brayne in the room was as decisive as a dinner bell. He had this great quality, which very few of us can claim, that his presence was as big as his absence.
As I took my place I glanced shyly round, and saw, at the farther end of the long table, the gallantest gentleman I had ever set eyes upon in all my sixteen years of life. He was looking directly at me, and presently he lifted his glass and said: "Captain Brayne, I give you the Carolina and every treasure she contains!"
He rapidly rolled away the bald, yellow head of the unknown, and put in its place the white-maned head beside it. And there, complete, unified, unmistakable, lay Julius K. Brayne. "The murderer," went on Brown quietly, "hacked off his enemy's head and flung the sword far over the wall. But he was too clever to fling the sword only. He flung the head over the wall also.
Brayne. Mr. Brayne, I know, is finishing a cigar in the dining-room; Commandant O'Brien, I think, is walking up and down the conservatory. I am not sure." The faithful attendant flashed from the room, and before anyone could stir or speak Valentin went on with the same soldierly swiftness of exposition.
In May 1656 he was superseded by Robert Sedgwick, but the latter died within a few days, and Doyley petitioned the Protector to appoint him to the post. William Brayne, however, arrived from England in December 1656 to take chief command; and when he, like his two predecessors, was stricken down by disease nine months later, the place devolved permanently upon Doyley.
He was a wandering sort of scamp, and is known to have been in America; so that was where Brayne got his knife into him. We didn't have much to do with him ourselves, for he worked mostly in Germany. We've communicated, of course, with the German police. But, oddly enough, there was a twin brother of his, named Louis Becker, whom we had a great deal to do with.
Word Of The Day