Albert Payson Terhune
Black Caesar's Clan
Buch
Excerpt: ...into this storeroom, still smugly confident that he held the whip hand of the situation. And as a result he was looking into the ghastly eyes of death. Like an engine that races, his fertile brain was unduly active in this moment of stark horror, and it ran uselessly. Into his over-excited mind flashed pictures of a thousand bits of the past-one of them, by reason of recent association far more vivid than the rest. He saw himself with four other A.E.F. officers, standing in a dim corner of a high-ceiled old room in a ruined chateau in Flanders. In the room's center was a table. Around this were grouped a double line of uniformed A…
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Excerpt: ...into this storeroom, still smugly confident that he held the whip hand of the situation. And as a result he was looking into the ghastly eyes of death. Like an engine that races, his fertile brain was unduly active in this moment of stark horror, and it ran uselessly. Into his over-excited mind flashed pictures of a thousand bits of the past-one of them, by reason of recent association far more vivid than the rest. He saw himself with four other A.E.F. officers, standing in a dim corner of a high-ceiled old room in a ruined chateau in Flanders. In the room's center was a table. Around this were grouped a double line of uniformed Americans-a court-martial. In came two provosts' men leading between them a prisoner, a man in uniform and wearing the insignia of a United States army major-the cleverest spy it was said in all the Wilhelmstrasse's pay, a genius who had grown rich at his filthy trade of selling out his country's secrets, and who had been caught at last by merest chance. The prisoner had glanced smilingly about the half-lit room as he came in. For the barest fraction of a second his gaze had flickered over Gavin Brice and the three other officers who stood there in the shadow. Then, with that same easy, confident smile on his masklike, pallid face, the spy had turned his glittering black eyes on the officers at the courtmartial table. Gentlemen, he had said amusedly, you need not go through the farce of trying me. I am guilty. I say this with no bravado and with no fear. Because the bullet has never been molded and the rope has never been plaited that can kill me. And the cell is not yet made that can hold me. He had said it smilingly, and in a velvet suave voice. Yes, and he had made good his boast. For-condemned to die at daylight-he had escaped from his ill-constructed prison room in the chateau a little before dawn and had gotten clean away after killing one of his guards. He never set eyes on me except for that instant,...
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Produktdetails
- ISBN: 978-1-153-59238-3
- EAN: 9781153592383
- Produktnummer: 14787979
- Verlag: Books LLC, Reference Series
- Sprache: Englisch
- Erscheinungsjahr: 2013
- Seitenangabe: 60 S.
- Masse: H24.6 cm x B18.9 cm x D0.3 cm 137 g
- Abbildungen: Paperback
- Gewicht: 137
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