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قراءة كتاب J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 3 The Haunted Baronet (1871)
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J. S. Le Fanu's Ghostly Tales, Volume 3 The Haunted Baronet (1871)
J. S. LE FANU'S GHOSTLY TALES,
VOLUME 3
The Haunted Baronet (1871)
by
Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu
CONTENTS
CHAPTER II: The Drowned Woman
CHAPTER III: Philip Feltram
CHAPTER IV: The Baronet Appears
CHAPTER V: Mrs. Julaper's Room
CHAPTER VI: The Intruder
CHAPTER VII: The Bank Note
CHAPTER VIII: Feltram's Plan
CHAPTER IX: The Crazy Parson
CHAPTER X: Adventure in Tom Marlin's Boat
CHAPTER XI: Sir Bale's Dream
CHAPTER XII: Marcella Bligh and Judith Wale Keep Watch
CHAPTER XIII: The Mist on the Mountain
CHAPTER XIV: A New Philip Feltram
CHAPTER XV: The Purse of Gold
CHAPTER XVI: The Message from Cloostedd
CHAPTER XVII: On the Course--Beeswing, Falcon, and Lightning
CHAPTER XVIII: On the Lake, at Last
CHAPTER XIX: Mystagogus
CHAPTER XX: The Haunted Forest
CHAPTER XXI: Rindermere
CHAPTER XXII: Sir Bale is Frightened
CHAPTER XXIII: A Lady in Black
CHAPTER XXIV: An Old Portrait
CHAPTER XXV: Through the Wall
CHAPTER XXVI: Perplexed
CHAPTER XXVII: The Hour
CHAPTER XXVIII: Sir Bale in the Gallery
CHAPTER XXIX: Dr. Torvey's Opinion
CHAPTER XXX: Hush!
ILLUSTRATIONS
It was the figure of a slight tall man, with his arm extended, as if pointing to a remote object.
The Haunted Baronet
CHAPTER I
The George and Dragon
The pretty little town of Golden Friars—standing by the margin of the lake, hemmed round by an amphitheatre of purple mountain, rich in tint and furrowed by ravines, high in air, when the tall gables and narrow windows of its ancient graystone houses, and the tower of the old church, from which every evening the curfew still rings, show like silver in the moonbeams, and the black elms that stand round throw moveless shadows upon the short level grass—is one of the most singular and beautiful sights I have ever seen.
There it rises, 'as from the stroke of the enchanter's wand,' looking so light and filmy, that you could scarcely believe it more than a picture reflected on the thin mist of night.
On such a still summer night the moon shone splendidly upon the front of the George and Dragon, the comfortable graystone inn of Golden Friars, with the grandest specimen of the old inn-sign, perhaps, left in England. It looks right