![]() ![]() In his short stories, as in his historical studies, he did indeed permit himself to be poetic in a more direct and serious fashion but in his touch upon such tales as this the same truth may be traced. ![]() ![]() In a sense, in this department of his work at least, he carried on the tradition of the artistic conscience of Stevenson the technical liberality of writing a penny-dreadful so as to make it worth a pound. But it is true to say that he always gave a touch of distinction to a detective story or a tale of adventure and so gave it where it was not valued, because it was not expected. It may seem a paradox to say that he was insufficiently appreciated because he did popular things well. From the first his prose had a strong element of poetry, which an appreciative reader could feel even more, perhaps, when it refined a frankly modern and even melodramatic theme, like that of this mystery story, than when it gave dignity, as in Our Lady of Darkness, to more tragic or more historic things. To introduce the last book by the late Bernard Capes is a sad sort of honour in more ways than one for not only was his death untimely and unexpected, but he had a mind of that fertile type which must always leave behind it, with the finished life, a sense of unfinished labour. ![]()
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