THE LITTLE HOUR OF PETER WELLS.
Mr. David Whitelaw's novel, 'the Little Hour of Peter Wells" (Hodder and Stoughton, per Whitcombo and Tombs), is a capital story, which I can heartily commend. A London '.clerk, employed in a fruit merchant's office in Covent harden, befriends a Portuguese gentleman of high, degree, who is the possessor or certain papors ■ relating to a conspiracy against the monarchy in his native country. , Peter Wells, the quietest, most unimaginative of Cockney clerks, finds himself suddenly entrusted with a political mission of the highest importance, and duly sets out for Luazo. Under the fancy waistcoat of the sedate little London clerk beats a heart in which thero is a hidden, but none the less lively spirit of romance, and at Luazo llr. Wells soon finds himself ombroiled in many sensational and, indeed, dangerous adventures. He plays his part of friend and champion of beauty in distress, and beauty's noble relatives, with great success, and is rewarded, if not by the hand of a Portuguese senora, at least with tho more practically valuable prize of a partnership in his employer's business, tho Covent Garden merchant, himself a Portuguese, having received private instructions to that effect from 110 less a personage than his Majesty the King o£ "Bragalia." No doubt, nt'ler uie romantic episodes of his Bragalian visit, Mr. Wells may' find the atmosphere of Islington aud the Hollo way Koad just a triile tepid, but at least 110 has secured a wealth of curious reminiscence which rarely falls to the lot of a Covent Garden clerk. The Bngalian revolution incidents are described with great spirit, but to me the charm of the story is in the character drawing. Peter's straightlaced old aunt is a very humorous creation. Altogether, an exceptionally readable story, on Ruritamian hue n.ajbe, but with a derided originality in both hero and scenario. THE MAN FROM NOWHERE. As a. rulo tho novel of sensation does not interest me' very much. The wires which move the puppets nro often too easily visible, the machinery creaks too loudly. .But I make an exception in tho case of "The Man Prom Nownere" (J'ills and Boon; per Whitcombe f.nd Tombs), in which Mr. Victor Bridge, a writer whoso namo is new to me, easily beats llr. Oppenheim at his own tan.e. Tho plot turns upon the impersonation, by James Burton, mining engineer and adventurer, of the wealthy Stuart Northcote, a man who in South America had been known as Prado, tho Prime Minister of a small State, itbe people of which he has robbed most shamefully, and ono of whose principal patriots he has ruthlessly tortured and murdered. Nortlicote, who fears assassination, offers the needy but plucky Burton (with whom the gentleman with the South American past has a most startling resemblance) JCIO,COO to impersonate him for three weeks. Burton accepts and proceeds to occupy Northcote's mansion in Park Lane. Despite various attempts to murder the supposed Prado, the impersonator manages to pull through tho three weeks, and not enly preserves his life, but wins the love of a handsome South American damsel, plus an enormous fortune left him by tho man whose name and personality he has temporarily assumed, and who, despito an iugonious disguise, is murdered in an East End lodginghouse. Mr. Bridge piles sensation upon sensation, but the story is mufih better written than is most fiction of this kind, and is an eminently readable production. '
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Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1854, 13 September 1913, Page 11
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572THE LITTLE HOUR OF PETER WELLS. Dominion, Volume 6, Issue 1854, 13 September 1913, Page 11
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