A week had passed since the funeral of my poor boy Harry, and one evening I was in my room walking up and down and thinking, when there was a ring at the outer door. Going down the steps I opened it myself, and in came my old friends Sir Henry Curtis and Captain John Good, RN. They entered the vestibule and sat themselves down before the wide hearth, where, I remember, a particularly good fire of logs was burning.'It is very kind of you to come round, ' I said by way of making a remark; 'it must have been heavy walking in ...
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A week had passed since the funeral of my poor boy Harry, and one evening I was in my room walking up and down and thinking, when there was a ring at the outer door. Going down the steps I opened it myself, and in came my old friends Sir Henry Curtis and Captain John Good, RN. They entered the vestibule and sat themselves down before the wide hearth, where, I remember, a particularly good fire of logs was burning.'It is very kind of you to come round, ' I said by way of making a remark; 'it must have been heavy walking in the snow.'They said nothing, but Sir Henry slowly filled his pipe and lit it with a burning ember. As he leant forward to do so the fire got hold of a gassy bit of pine and flared up brightly, throwing the whole scene into strong relief, and I thought, What a splendid-looking man he is! Calm, powerful face, clear-cut features, large grey eyes, yellow beard and hair - altogether a magnificent specimen of the higher type of humanity. Nor did his form belie his face. I have never seen wider shoulders or a deeper chest. Indeed, Sir Henry's girth is so great that, though he is six feet two high, he does not strike one as a tall man. As I looked at him I could not help thinking what a curious contrast my little dried-up self presented to his grand face and form. Imagine to yourself a small, withered, yellow-faced man of sixty-three, with thin hands, large brown eyes, a head of grizzled hair cut short and standing up like a half-worn scrubbing-brush - total weight in my clothes, nine stone six - and you will get a very fair idea of Allan Quatermain, commonly called Hunter Quatermain, or by the natives 'Macumazahn' - Anglic/CHAR: e grave/, he who keeps a bright look-out at night, or, in vulgar English, a sharp fellow who is not to be taken in
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Written in 1887, Allan Quatermain is the sequel to the adventure novel King Solomon's Mines. In the sequel the major characters (Allan Quatermain, Sir Henry Curtis, and Captain Good) of the previous book are reunited and, eager for adventure, begin another expedition in search of a legendary lost civilization deep in Africa; the three Englishmen are joined by the Zulu warrior Umslopogaas. The adventurers find their lost civilization but only after an arduous, exciting, and dangerous journey. Of course, once the explorers arrive in the lost civilization, the adventure and drama continue to the very end. As in King Solomon's Mines the story is narrated by hunter, explorer, and adventurer Allan Quatermain; he is a little more philosophical and reflective in his narrative in this book. I did like this book a great deal as it is a good balance of adventure and light romance. One does not have to read King Solomon's Mines to understand Allan Quatermain but readers will get a lot more out of the sequel if they have read the previous book. In sum, Allan Quatermain is a good sequel to a good book.