NEW BOOKS.

New Zealand Herald, Volume L, Issue 15411, 20 September 1913, Page 4 (Supplement)

NEW BOOKS.

The Hour-CHass Myst«y"~-by Headon Hill (Ward, Lock. Melbourne; received through Messrs. Wfldman and Arey).—-In this tale of murder, a new element is introduced, the conscience of the murderer, he being unable to resist the impulse to allow his victims an hour to shrive their souls. But as thoy usually know nothing about the hour-glass until its sands are almost run out, only those who are in time to invert the symbol of threatened death escape. And when the supply of hourglasses run out the murderer becomes insane, and the story ends. The mystery of the successive murders, each with its hour-glass at hand, is well sustained, and for a thrilling succession of shocks the •»ovel will bo found to give measure overflowing. The motive of the horrors is the locality of a silver mine, which an unscrupulous South American scoundrel is endeavouring to get from the rightful owner. A girl named Luna Brandreki is the revolving point of the story; and Calshot, the banker, tells the story of what he describes as the "lurid puzzle." But mysteries -.rill be solved by reading, and , Headon Hill's latest one is qnite exciting. , " A Mere Woman"— Vera Nikto (Duck-' worth, London; Robertson, Melbourne).— The " mere woman" is a Russian girl, Son.\, who runs wild in the Bohemian city house of an aunt, and then returns to the dullness of country life. She marries, has painful experiences of the wedded life, and at 20 divorces her hushand. Later, , setting out to capture a rich husband, she has the luck to marry ' Prince Torailin, in the sixties, but with plenty of character as well as wealth, and ; with sufficient tolerance to pardon an ad- j venture happening between the two mar- i riages. Her society life is so clearly described as to suggest autobiography. The j girl, as much a child as a woman, lives; through gaiety and boredem, respects her husband and sweetens wonderfully with! the care of a son. The former lover reappears and tries to induce her to leave \ her husband. She shows more strength of! mind than from the insight into herj nature one would have supposed, and, j frightened though she is, she refuses to go. i The man then shoots himself in her garden while she and her husband are playing chess. The author's' style is peculiar— partly Russian, partly French. This lends a certain suggestion of halting to the narrative. The girl Sonia is also analysed uncertainly. She is naive and yet calculating, sentimental yet hard and selfish. The general effect of this is the impression of a confession, of which only half is told. This may be due to the unsure touch of the foreign.writer using English,- its result is to lessen the consistency of what otherwise is an interesting study of a Russian country girl, exposed to the temptations of fashionable life at St. Petersburg, Paris, and other such Continental centres. «' From the Co* Behind"—by Eleanor Ingram (Lippincott, London; Robertson, Melbourne).—Eleanor Ingram , tells her story really well. She draws original characters and makes them life-like. The boy Carrie, who has to develop from T-rtlth to man, is made to do it splendidly, and his silence to shield a silly girl from contumely is superb. It is this breakingin of the milli6naire's son that the heart of "the look. Incidentally there is very s;bod;wprk in the portrayal of Gerard, and the girl Flavia is very lovable. It is a consistent, well-planned novel, with interest ; sustained throughout, and a fine breadth -style. Dealing with motor racing, it should be popular with all those r:\io know what there is to know about automobiles. Its theme is that the wealthy boy Cdrwir* Rose, with a talent for driving, having taken his cousin Isabel, disguised as his mechanician, for a drive, ch,<dlenges Gerard to a race, arid as Gerard beats him, he begins boyishly to throw odd pieces: of gear at bis car. One of these, a bolt, hits his friend, causes-- him to swerve and overturn his car, and wrecks him, it is thought, for life. Then falls! disgrace oh Come. He accepts work in ! Gerard's motor factory, and sets out to live down the shame by honest work. The love story which was growing between his sister Flavia and Gerard come to an untimely end, and she and her father travel, i The cousin Isabel goes for a visit. Gerard, '■ the real man of the story, does at last! win her, and at the same time hears from ' someone else that he lias misjudged Corrie, and no one then can understand why the youth bore so much obloquy for so long. The author makes good telling, and the two principals, Gerard and Corwin Rose, are quite worth reading about. This is how the disgraced amateur enters the. rank of professionals; "'I have had you and the car entered for the- Indianapolis meet, next month," Gerard announced; "after that we are going to Georgia, then down to try the sea beach along the Florida shore, where you can let out.all the speed the machine has got. Of course you will race. What else have you been training for!' "Carrie's full red lips closed, his blue *yes braved Gerard's. "' I will not. Gerard, I cannot. To go back as the millionaire amateur of tfce pink car, to stand the toleration of the professional drivers, who/ cannot really handle.their machines better than I can mine, to know that the story of how you rfere wrecked is being whispered after me I'm not big enough to face it all! I might be challenged and sent off the track, for all I know.' "' You will not go back as an amateur,' Gerard corrected. ' You are entered and registered as a professional automobile racer. You will find your certificate of the fact lying on your table. Yes, I did it without consulting you. You signed the necessary papers yourself, without reading them,' "Corrie's fingers gripped the wheel, the varying expressions changing his face like storm-swept vater, while the hunger of his gaze besought Gerard. "' You—it's true? Gerard, you've done that for me? They, the A.M.A. officers, they accepted me!' " ' Yes. You go back to the racing as a recognised driver in the employ of the Mercury Company.' 'Give me a moment, or I'll lose the only honour I've kept,' said Corrie Rose, and turned away his face. ' I shall do whatever you bid me, of course.' " " A Goddess of Stone"—by R. W. WrightHenderson (Methuen, London).— this charmingly told story, a child of nine recounts his life at the home of his uncle', Squire Bygrave. who is implicated in the landing and disposal of smuggled cargo. One day a French nobleman arrives by eea, ana Bygrave puts himself to some trouble to entertain him hospitably. The child, " Baby" How, is much puzzled by his uncle's behaviour to this so-called merchant, M. Devaux, and still more by the Appearance in the grounds of Marquis le Vic, whom he had known in his fathers house at Chelsea. The child is brutally -shipped for being on the scene to see anyone at all, and his subsequent mental confusion as to what he must not see or say is cleverly described. By his innocent adding of postscript to his letter sent to Madame le Vic, the boy gives the informmation regarding the refugee, M. Devaux. Byprave's plans miscarry, and there is a "duel between Devaux and le Vic, in which the, latter is killed. That night Devaux'e friends enter the squire's house, and one of them, kills the squire, while the house is burnt. The child falls into the hands; of frienda.

The actual story is of less consequence than tho delicacy of plot and the skilful handling of a child's speech. For the boy tells the whole story, his fearful allusions to Bygrave imparting a most clever impression of the squire's brutality and duplicity, of churlishness, and avarice. While as for Mrs. Bevery, the old housekeeper, she is the dearest old servant imaginable, the soul of kindness to her " Baby" How, and yet shrewdly deceiv ing her master into thinking her an ogre. Tho other characters are sketched with precision, and yet the author preserves th; air of childish innocence, proof against. all the intrigue that is being woven around him. Excellently written, abounding in situations, treated with admirable restraint, the "Goddess of Stone" is a book to make one look for others from its author. Hero is his description of the child's first trouble in the new home :— "But I had betrayed myself. As I was hurrying forward • to the edge of the cliff, intent upon seeing what wa) proceeding below, I was hailed by a voice I knew well. My uncle was standing not ten yards from the spot where I had lain. Beside him was the man with the silver buttons. "' Come here !' said my uncle. " I obeyed. "' Did I hear Mrs. Bevery calling for you?' he asked, cocking up the crueleyebrow ' Don't pull the buttons off your coat, sir ! Look up.' "The man in the blue jacket muttered something, and my uncle turned upon the fellow very sharply. " 'I can deal with the boy without advice,' he said. Then again addressing me : ' What you've got to remember, my lad, is that I'm not one to bo flouted.' " He beckoned me to come nearer, and as I stepped forward struck mo on the cheek with the back of his hand. I jumped away, bul he had me by the collar in an instant." "Give me your whip, Graft!" he said. " The thrashing I had was a thing I like not to look back on. It was too terrible a punishment to be anything less than a crime against nature. "I have a memory of dragging my bruised little body through the yews to Froddity's pedestal. She was but a figure of stone, with sightless eyes, a bent head, and round shoulders on which the' birds used to perch—but she was my companion, my playmate. She knew and understood. " Mrs. Bevery came again in search of me. She lifted me up and carried me to my room, and never said a word. " But I remember that she made me swallow a most nauseating tumbler of hot liquor, and that she rubbed my whole body with an oil that taught me to hate for life the filling scent of arnica."