Front matter

The “Mystery” Library

EDITED BY

J. WALKER McSPADDEN

FAMOUS GHOST STORIES FAMOUS PSYCHIC STORIES FAMOUS DETECTIVE STORIES FAMOUS MYSTERY STORIES

A Library of quite unusual tales culled from the most powerful writers, chiefly American, English, and French. Each book contains special introduction.

Thomas Y. Crowell Co., New York

FAMOUS MYSTERY STORIES

EDITED BY J. WALKER McSPADDEN Editor of “Famous Ghost Stories,” “Famous Psychic Stories,” “Famous Detective Stories,” etc.

NEW YORK THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1922, By THOMAS Y. CROWELL COMPANY

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

CONTENTS

PAGE

The Spectre of Tappington Richard Harris Barham 1

The Mysterious Sketch Erckmann-Chatrian 34

The Deserted House Ernest T. W. Hoffmann 58

The Adelantado of the Seven Cities Washington Irving 86

The Pipe Anonymous 110

The Upper Berth F. Marion Crawford 139

The Diamond Lens Fitz-James O’Brien 172

The Horla Guy de Maupassant 210

The Mummy’s Foot Théophile Gautier 248

The Thief Anna Katharine Green 266

INTRODUCTION

“Famous Mystery Stories” completes a tetralogy begun a few years ago with “Ghost Stories” and continued with “Detective” and “Psychic Stories.” The responsive chord that each successive volume has struck has emboldened the editor to continue a line of research which has revealed many fascinating channels. A mass of enticing material has been brought to light, which would fill many books of the present size; and the problem has been one of selection and elimination. The group of four books now complete under the title of the “The Mystery Library,” while in no sense an anthology of the subject, will be found to contain many typical examples of the bizarre and unusual, culled from the ablest pens of America and Europe.

It is interesting to note the different methods of approach to your true mystery story. Every such tale conceals a definite problem which may or may not be solved; and when tested in the crucible of widely divergent minds, the result is of value from more than one aspect.

In the present volume the reader will find representative stories from American, English, Irish, French and German writers. Aside from the individual merit of each tale, they afford a striking study in contrasts, both in style and method of approach. By way of illustration, no two stories could be more dissimilar in treatment than the French and German examples herewith included. “The Mysterious Sketch” by Erckmann-Chatrian, like its successor, “The Deserted House,” by Hoffmann, is an excellent type of pure mystery tale, with the mystery unexplained; but there the resemblance ends. The French joint authors are concerned only with a hypothetical case. An artist draws a fanciful sketch which proves to be the depiction of an actual tragedy. Its effect upon the artist himself, rather than the how and why of the drawing, is the concern of the story. Hoffmann’s tale also presents a definite problem which is only half explained. It is a fantasy with a touch of psychology, and affords its own raison d’être. “Hoffmann preferred to remain a riddle to himself,” wrote a friend, “a riddle which he always dreaded to have solved.”

Three stories involving a vein of humor are “The Spectre of Tappington,” that delightful skit from “The Ingoldsby Legends”; Irving’s tale of the Adelantado who sought the lost cities of the Spanish Main; and “The Pipe.” Each may be commended as an after-dinner solace, “The Pipe” providing a pleasant “smoke” although not altogether harmless in its effects. It is by our old friend, Anonymous, who has given us some of the best examples of literature in every age. Irving on his part is always like a draught of ruddy wine; and in the adventures of the misguided Adelantado we are reminded of our old friend Rip Van Winkle. The author himself is not concerned with a mystery per se, but is indulging in a characteristic flight of fancy tinged with a quiet, ironical humor.

By way of contrast come a grisly tale of the sea from the masterly pen of F. Marion Crawford. In “The Upper Berth” he weaves a mystery of horror and haunting fear. It is redolent of stagnant seawater and slimy sea-weeds. He is a hardened reader indeed who can read a yarn such as this without a shudder. And yet the reader is led deliberately on to the final climax. Unlike other mysteries it does not depend for its power upon the unexpected. The narrator says in effect, “Gentlemen, prepare for a shock!”—and his audience are shocked nevertheless.

“The Diamond Lens,” by Fitz-James O’Brien, is a classic of imagination raised to the nth degree. Through the manufacture of a microscope of incalculable power, its possessor is enabled to discover worlds far beyond the ken of man, and to find therein lovely beings. The height of the fantastic is reached when the scientist falls in love with the tiny animalcule—truly a hopeless passion! On re-reading this story one is struck by the fact that even murder itself can be held subordinate to other elements in a piece of fiction.

De Maupassant’s strange tale, “The Horla,” carries with it more than a literary interest. It has a certain autobiographical flavor. De Maupassant wielded one of the most powerful and versatile pens in France of the last half century, and yet had a morbid, haunting fear of going mad—a fear which was actually realized. “The Horla” is one of the first vivid presentiments of a sinister personality overshadowing his own. In another story, “Lui,” not here included, he also reveals evidences of this overmastering terror. “I am afraid of the walls, of the furniture, of the familiar objects which seem to me to assume a kind of animal life. Above all I fear the horrible confusion of my thought, of my reason escaping, entangled and scattered by an invisible and mysterious anguish.”

A mystery story of more conventional type is that one by Anna Katharine Green, one of America’s most prolific writers in this vein. In “The Thief,” we have an example of circumstantial evidence, which wellnigh brings its victim to social and spiritual ruin. He is saved only by the faith of those who believe in him despite appearances.

“The Mummy’s Foot,” by Gautier, is a delightful example of Gallic humor. Nothing could be more fanciful than the picture of the long-dead Egyptian princess coming to reclaim her foot, which was being used as a paper weight, and the assumption of its owner that he was thereby entitled to claim her hand.

In the preparation of this work the editor has been constantly indebted to publishers and writers for the use of special material. Thanks are particularly due to The Macmillan Company and the heirs of F. Marion Crawford for permission to use his work; and to Dodd, Mead & Company and Anna Katharine Green, for the use of her story.

J. W. McS.

Montclair, N. J. March 1, 1922.