Elég egy váratlan hajnali telefonhívás és egy rég nem hallott a hang a vonal másik végén, hogy Myron Bolitar, a kemény?kl? játékosügyn?k ismét egy els? ránézésre megoldhatatlan rejtély kell?s k?zepén találja magát. Nyolc éve, hogy utoljára találkozott a gy?ny?r? Terese Collinsszal, aki most arra kéri, utazzon Párizsba. Myron sejti, hogy nem csupán egy romantikus randevú várja a szerelem városában, ám amikor a repül?térre érve rend?r?k fogadják, majd hamarosan kiderül, hogy Terese az els? számú gyanúsítottja egy gyilkosságnak, úgy érzi, zsákutcába került. Nem ismeri sem a nyelvet, sem a szokásokat, így aligha tud bármit is kinyomozni. De miel?tt alaposabban végiggondolhatná a helyzetet, t?rténik valami, ami új megvilágításba helyezi az ügyet... ?Ekkor borítottam rá az asztalt. Amint leült mellém, azonnal végiggondoltam a lehet?ségeket. Már tudtam, mir?l van szó: emberrablás. Ha beszállok a furgonba, nekem l?ttek. Hallották már azt a nagy b?lcsességet, hogy az emberrablásoknál mindig az els? negyvennyolc óra a legkritikusabb? Amit nem szoktak hozzátenni - talán mert annyira nyilvánvaló -, hogy minden másodperccel cs?kken az esélye annak, hogy valaha is megtalálják az áldozatot. Itt ugyanez volt a helyzet. Ha beszállok abba a kocsiba, túlélési esélyeim a minimumra cs?kkennek. Ha felállok, és elindulok a furgon felé, szintén romlanak a kilátásaim. Ráadásul Sebhelyes Fej nem számít korai ellencsapásra. Azt hiszi, szépen begyakorolt kis monológját hallgatom. Nem jelentek fenyegetést. ?gy hát a meglepetés erejére építettem. Egy pillanatra ? is odanézett, hogy meggy?z?dj?n, valóban ott áll-e a kocsi. Ennyi elég is volt. Az asztal peremét már korábban megmarkoltam. Lábizmaim megfeszültek. ?gy pattantam f?l, mintha dobbantóról ugranék. Az asztallap egyenesen az arcába csapódott." Harlan Coben napjaink egyik legnépszer?bb krimiírója. Regényeit a m?faj gy?ngyszemeiként tartják számon, eddig negyven kül?nb?z? nyelvre fordították le, és k?zel 50 millió (!) példányt adtak el bel?lük világszerte.

These tales are translated from a variety of authors. The translator has been chiefly led to the task by the hope of composing an entertaining volume out of materials not generally accessible. The works in which many of them are found, are by no means common, and the indelicacy with which almost all collections of Italian tales are polluted, deservedly excludes them from general perusal. Such care has, however, been employed in the following selection, and such liberties taken with the originals, when they appeared objectionable on this account, that it is hoped this little book will escape the censure too justly cast upon Italian works of humour, in general—a censure which falls heavily upon many of the otherwise admirable tales of Boccaccio. While, however, such trifling alterations have been made as appeared necessary, these tales may still justly be considered as fair specimens of the Italian Novella, and like the celebrated collection already alluded to, furnish us with a very lively idea of the early manners of the Italians. Those tales, from which our great dramatist borrowed parts of his plots, and some of his incidents, have a double interest, both from their own nature, and as they illustrate the process by which his genius, "by happy alchemy of mind," turned all the materials which fell in his way to gold. Two or three of this kind have been purposely selected. ITALIAN TALES: THE TEACHER TAUGHT. THE UNEXPECTED REPLY. WHO AM I? THE DEAD RIDER. THE SKILFUL PHYSICIAN THE POMEGRANATE SEED THE FATAL MISTAKE THE DEAD ALIVE THE FALSE CHAMPION THE MERCHANT OF VENICE THERE IS A SKELETON IN EVERY HOUSE. THE ELOPEMENT. THE FRIAR ENTRAPPED ANTONIO AND VERONICA. BELPHAGOR. THE SLEEPING DRAUGHT THE COUNTERPARTS

THE ARABIAN NIGHTS “THE ORIENT MAGIC” The Talking Bird, The Singing Tree, and the Golden WaterThe Story of the Fisherman and the GenieThe History of the Young King of the Black IslesThe Story of Gulnare of the SeaThe Story of Aladdin; Or, the Wonderful LampThe Story of Prince AgibThe Story of the City of BrassThe Story of Ali Baba and the Forty ThievesThe History of Codadad and His BrothersThe Story of Sinbad the Voyager The Talking Bird:It will be sufficient to break off a branch and carry it to plant in your gardenThe Fisherman and the GenieThe smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along the sea and upon the shore formed a great mist The Young King of the Black IslesWhen he came to this part of his narrative the young king could not restrain his tearsGulnare of the SeaAnd she proceeded to burn perfume and repeat spells until the sea foamed and was agitatedAladdinAt the same time the earth, trembling, opened just before the magician, and uncovered a stone, laid horizontally, with a brass ring fixed into the middlePrince AgibAnd when the boat came to me I found in it a man of brass, with a tablet of lead upon his breast, engraven with names and talismans Prince AgibAt the approach of evening I opened the first closet and, entering it, found a mansion like paradiseThe City of BrassAnd when they had ascended that mountain they saw a city than which eyes had not beheld any greaterThe Story of Ali Baba and the Forty ThievesCassim ... was so alarmed at the danger he was in that the more he endeavoured to remember the word Sesame the more his memory was confoundedThe History of Codadad and His BrothersAs it drew near we saw ten or twelve armed pirates appear on the deckSecond Voyage of SinbadThe spot where she left me was encompassed on all sides by mountains that seemed to reach above the clouds, and so steep that there was no possibility of getting out of the valleyThird Voyage of SinbadHaving finished his repast, he returned to his porch, where he lay and fell asleep, snoring louder than thunder.. Little excuse is needed, perhaps, for any fresh selection from the famous "Tales of a Thousand and One Nights," provided it be representative enough, and worthy enough, to enlist a new army of youthful readers. Of the two hundred and sixty-four bewildering, unparalleled stories, the true lover can hardly spare one, yet there must always be favourites, even among these. We have chosen some of the most delightful, in our opinion; some, too, that chanced to appeal particularly to the genius of the artist. If, enticed by our choice and the beauty of the pictures, we manage to attract a few thousand more true lovers to the fountain-book, we shall have served our humble turn. The only real danger lies in neglecting it, in rearing a child who does not know it and has never fallen under its spell. You remember Maimoune, in the story of Prince Camaralzaman, and what she said to Danhasch, the genie who had just arrived from the farthest limits of China? "Be sure thou tellest me nothing but what is true or I shall clip thy wings!" This is what the modern child sometimes says to the genies of literature, and his own wings are too often clipped in consequence."The Empire of the Fairies is no more. Reason has banished them from ev'ry shore;Steam has outstripped their dragons and their cars,Gas has eclipsed their glow-worms and their stars."?douard Laboulaye says in his introduction to Nouveaux Contes Bleus: "Mothers who love your children, do not set them too soon to the study of history; let them dream while they are young.

In offering this study to a public accustomed only to the unquestioning acceptance of the home as something perfect, holy, quite above discussion, a word of explanation is needed. First, let it be clearly and definitely stated, the purpose of this book is to maintain and improve the home. Criticism there is, deep and thorough; but not with the intention of robbing us of one essential element of home life—rather of saving us from conditions not only unessential, but gravely detrimental to home life. Every human being should have a home; the single person his or her home; and the family their home. The home should offer to the individual rest, peace, quiet, comfort, health, and that degree of personal expression requisite; and these conditions should be maintained by the best methods of the time. The home should be to the child a place of happiness and true development; to the adult a place of happiness and that beautiful reinforcement of the spirit needed by the world's workers. We are here to perform our best service to society, and to find our best individual growth and expression; a right home is essential to both these uses. The place of childhood's glowing memories, of youth's ideals, of the calm satisfaction of mature life, of peaceful shelter for the aged; this is not attacked, this we shall not lose, but gain more universally. What is here asserted is that our real home life is clogged and injured by a number of conditions which are not necessary, which are directly inimical to the home; and that we shall do well to lay these aside. As to the element of sanctity—that which is really sacred can bear examination, no darkened room is needed for real miracles; mystery and shadow belong to jugglers, not to the truth. The home is a human institution. All human institutions are open to improvement. This specially dear and ancient one, however, we have successfully kept shut, and so it has not improved as have some others.

Borbély Szilárd új prózak?tete tematikusan is kapcsolódik a Halotti pompa lírai requiemjéhez. Itt is a k?nyv centrumában a 2000. év karácsony t?rtént brutális kett?s gyilkosság és a szül?k elvesztésének fájdalma áll. De immár a próza nyelvén és eszk?zeivel: a dokumentumok, rend?rségi jegyz?k?nyvek és a személyes emlékek megidézésével azért t?rténik az írói nyomozás, hogy valamiképpen megérthesse az anya meggyilkolásának tragédiáját, illetve a b?ntény lezáratlanságát, azaz a b?n?s?k szabadon engedését (Egy b?ntény mellékszálai).

Amúgy is knnyen ragadtatom magam e knyv kapcsán a mindig gyanús szuperlatívuszokra: mesterm. A regény nyelve és tárgya hibátlanul találkozott, csndes ragyogása van a szvegnek. Pontos és drámai korrajz, lélekrajz, emberrajz. Mit jelent a nincsben lenni, mit jelent a nincs agresszivitásában élni Mit jelent, amikor minden totális, kint is, bent is, a kiszolgáltatottság, a szorongás, az állam, az apa, minden totális. Mit jelent éhezni Mit jelent, amikor semminek sem lehet lenni, jónak se Amikor szeretni sem szabad. De azért mégis szeretünk. Elegáns és nyomasztó knyv. Bátor knyv, amely ismeri a félelmet. Mint a jó irodalom mindig, rólunk szól, éljünk bárhol is a világon.“ (Esterházy Péter)

Galántai Zsófi úgy érzi, célba ért. Sikeres a munkájában, és végre ?sszek?lt?zhet a szerelmével. Aztán j?n egy furcsa, szégyenteljes, mégis felejthetetlen éjszaka egy messzir?l j?tt idegennel, és Zsófi jól felépített élete ?sszeomlik. Mindent hátrahagyva elindul a mexikói után, aki titokzatos jeleket hagy számára szerte a világban... Szerelem? Kalandvágy? Zarándoklat? - vajon mi hajtja a magyar lányt egyre egzotikusabb tájak, egyre veszélyesebb kalandok, és ?nmaga számára is ismeretlen énje felé?? Mi ad t?bb muníciót a lelkünknek: ha bátran kilépünk a megszokott és talán unalmas életünkb?l, vállalva a kockázatot, hogy veszítünk - vagy ha vágyainkat elnyomva éljük mindennapjainkat? Merre vezet az utunk? Hol jobb: útk?zben vagy "célba érve"? Fej?s ?va bestsellere most új kiadásban kerülhet az olvasó kezébe. A mexikói krimibe ill? izgalmakat, igazi lélektani drámát és jó szórakozást ígér.

Milyen lenne egy regénye, ha Rejt? Jen? napjainkban írná meg? Talán ilyen: Csodálatos dolog egy ?r?kség! F?leg akkor, ha van kinek átadni. De ha nincs, az sem baj. Egy tévútra tévedt magánnyomozó, és egy nyugdíjazás címén félreállított detektív csatasorba áll az ?r?k?s felkutatásával megbízott lelkes ifjú titánnal, hogy végül - egy észbontóan észbontó n?vel kiegészülve - gy?kerestül felforgassák a világ ellen sz?vetkez? b?n?s elemek életét. K?nyvünk h?sei - vérfarkas és vámpír rokonok híján - súlyosan sebezhet?k, legyen szó akár szerelemr?l, akár egyszer? ólomgolyókról, nem laknak koporsóban, és a napvilágnál sem porladnak el hideglel?s sikoltozás k?zepette. Jól bánnak a szavakkal, tudnak kávézaccból jósolni, és kis szerencsével bármit képesek túlélni, ami nem halálos. Figyelem! A k?nyv klasszikusokat is feldolgozó író tollából került ki, ezért nyomokban mondanivalót is tartalmazhat. Kizárólag olvasni tudóknak!

Acestea-s cuvintele, Petra. Am aternut copertele peste ele, lsndu-le s se limpezeasc. Timpul trecea, cartea nu-mi mai ncpea n trup. ntr-o zi, mi plimbam ochii peste literele ei. Dup aceea, am rspuns ctorva e-mailuri. Printre tirile care nsoesc n mod obinuit o csu electronic, mi-a atras atenia una. Plasa pianjenului se lsa peste mine, dar cui s-i strig mirarea i bucuria mea Eram singur i ngheat, n biroul pustiu. Atunci, m-am repezit s-i atern aceste nimicuri despre Shaun Higgins, specialistul ce a reuit s rezolve misterul insulei-fantom din Pacific. Aprea pe mai toate hrile, dar nu a fost gsit de cercettorii care au plecat s o caute cu vreo lun n urm. Din 1876 s-a strecurat eroarea. Atunci, comandantul balenierei Velocity a raportat n jurnal o serie de stnci mari i nite insulie de nisip, marcnd poriunea de pmnt pe o hart. Informaiile lui au tot fost copiate i recopiate, postulnd drept insul un probabil i posibil recif. Cineva din lumea aceasta, cu un veac n urm, s-a mai gndit la Plasterca. i dai seama ce lucru minunat i s-ar putea ca lumea despre care am zis odat c nu am gsit-o, aceea ce spuneam c i se cuvine, alturi de aceast carte care abia mai ncape n colivie, s se afle undeva, pe-aproape.“ – Clin Torsan

1791 októberében Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart azt mondta a feleségének, hogy megmérgezték. Másfél hónap múlva már nem volt az él?k sorában. N?vére, a szintén zongoravirtuózként indult Nannerl sógorn?jét?l értesül a fájdalmas hírr?l, és nyomban Bécsbe indul, de nem csak a temetésre. Elt?kéli, hogy kideríti az igazságot, és megtudja, valóban gyilkosság áldozata lett-e Mozart, és vajon kinek állt útjában. Bécs veszélyes városnak bizonyul: Nannerl s?tét titkokkal, ?sszeesküvésekkel, a császári udvarban zajló intrikákkal szembesül, a szabadk?m?vesek rejtélyes ?sszej?vetelein találja magát, mik?zben életében el?sz?r átéli az igaz szerelmet. ?s mindennek k?zpontjában Mozart utolsó operája, A varázsfuvola áll. Az olvasó a korabeli Bécs arisztokrata szalonjainak és hangversenytermeinek nyüzsg? világát láthatja mintegy függ?ny m?gül, mik?zben fel-felcsendül Mozart halhatatlan zenéje, és fény derül a sz?rny? titokra.

Amikor Vicky Firenzébe érkezik, hogy olaszul tanuljon és megmerítkezzen az ottani kultúrában, nem számít arra, hogy eltalálja ?mor nyila. A szerelem a jókép? és sármos, ám kissé rusztikus modorú talján séf, Gianfranco személyében érkezik. Gianfranco éttermében Vicky megismerkedik a toszkán konyham?vészettel is. Hétvégén a szerelmespár autóba pattan és felfedezi Toszkána gy?ny?r? tájait és a hegyekben megbújó k?zépkori városkákat. A színes leírásokban b?velked? gasztromemoár becsempészi az olvasót Toszkána, Umbria, Elba és Perugia romantikus éttermeinek és bárjainak színfalai m?gé. Remek olasz receptek szakítják meg hébe-hóba a sz?veget, mely nincs híján humornak, szerelemnek és szerelmi csalódásnak. ?Toszkán mese szerelemr?l és ételekr?l” – az alcím magáért beszél, de mesénél t?bbet kapunk: az írón? ironikus és olykor lírai stílusa igazi olvasási élményt is nyújt.

Scriitorul George Colpit a publicat pan? in prezent cinci romane, un volum de reportaje ?i eseuri publicistice, un volum de poezii ?i prezenta culegere de nuvele.Cartea de fa?? demonstreaz? c? deosebitul talent ale romancierului de a da via?? unor personaje vii, pregnante, cu o prezen?? aproape material?, palpabil?, ?n situa?ii cotidiene veridice, duce, ?i ?n cazul ?n care scrie proz? scurt?, la realizarea unor mini-capodopere literare, dovedind un talent deosebit.V? invit?m s? citi?i ?i celelalte opere ale acestui talentat scriitor: Judecata de pe urm?. Despre Opera?iunea Psi ?i Laboratorul Psihotronic. Roman; Nebunul. Roman; Dorina tranzi?iei. Roman erotic interzis minorilor; Legionarul communist. Roman; Partidele coliba?ului. O saga arge?ean?. Roman; Articole din pia?a politic?. Despre oportuni?tii de forma?ie intelectual?. Publicistic?; Oglinda retrovizoare. Poezii

Júlia el?tt két út áll: szerelem nélküli, elrendezett házasság vagy lázadás. Az éles esz? lány, aki nemcsak rajongója Dante romantikus k?ltészetének, de maga is verseket ír, nem hajlandó fejet hajtani a hagyományok el?tt, és belet?r?dni a szül?k akaratába, mint imádott barátn?je, Lucrezia. Júlia sorsa ?r?kre megpecsétel?dik, amikor egy álarcosbálon megismeri a családjával viszálykodó Monticecco család fiát, Rómeót. Robin Maxwell, az angol t?rténelmi regények népszer? szerz?je nem kevesebbre vállalkozott, mint hogy újraírja Shakespeare egyik legnépszer?bb drámáját, a Rómeó és Júliá-t. Az írón? ezúttal is t?rténelmileg hiteles regényt írt: a halhatatlan szerelmesek t?rténete Verona helyett a reneszánsz Firenzében játszódik. Mik?zben megismerhetjük a nyüzsg? város hétk?znapjait, kibontakozik el?ttünk egy ifjú pár szerelmi t?rténete, amely nem kevésbé drámai és szívszorító, mint a nagy k?lt?é, ám ezúttal azt is láthatjuk, mi zajlik a kulisszák m?g?tt.

avagy a szeretet, a megbocsátás és a szabadság ereje T?rténet egy anyáról, akinek szívéhez k?zelebb állt egyik fia, mint a másik, és b?ntudata halála után sem hagyta nyugodni. T?rténet egy fiúról, akit édesanyja nem akart a világra hozni, akinek a magány volt a legh?ségesebb társa, s akinek szíve k?vé dermedt a háború borzalmaiban. T?rténet egy lányról, aki tudta, mekkora er?vel bír a szeretet, és tudta, hogyan kell megszelídíteni, újrahangolni egy elgy?t?rt szívet. T?rténet egy n?r?l, aki háta m?g?tt hagyta a nyugati világot, hogy megtalálja, ami a legfontosabb az életben: ?nmagát. Az egymásba fonódó t?rténetekb?l egyetlen regény kerekedik, mely izgalmas emberi sorsokról mesél, mik?zben bemutatja Burma babonákkal, ugyanakkor b?lcsességgel átsz?tt kultúráját, és felnyitja szemünket egy olyan világra, melyben a szeretet, a megbocsátás és a szabadság jelentik az igazi hatalmat.

Gyermeknek és feln?tteknek szóló egyetlen mese A kis herceg, a második világháborúban elpusztult s már klasszikusnak számító francia író remekm?ve. Története úgy indul, mint minden Saint-Exupéry-regény, egy repül?kalanddal, de ezúttal a bonyodalom nem a valóságban, hanem a költ?i képzelet világában folytatódik. Egy kisfiú jelenik meg a szerencsétlenül járt pilóta mellett a Szahara magányában, egy kisfiú egy másik bolygóról. S vele együtt feltündököl egy másik világ is, melynek embersége, tisztasága és szépsége sajnos már csak a költészet világából való. És Saint-Exupéry úgy beszéli el kis hercege történetét a maga icipi bolygóján, hogy mindnyájan fájdalmasan megáhítjuk azt az igazabb bolygót, s szívünkbe zárjuk az emberségben nagy kis herceget.

Florin Logreteanu propune noul su roman intitulat Casa cu iedera. Aciunea lui se desfoar pe fundalul evenimentelor care au premers conflictului balcanic dintre srbi i albanezi din ultimul deceniu al mileniului trecut. L-am citit n manuscris i sunt n msur s spun c e vorba de un excelent romn al psihozei colective, care lumineaz subsolurile contiinei umane.“ – Eugen Negrici

Ore de diminea?? ?ntr-o nou? edi?ie. F?r? ?ndoial? un eveniment. Este cartea care arunc? ?n aer bariera dintre pacostea proletcultist? ?i dreptul elementar de a g?ndi ?i a scrie liber. Cu discre?ie dar f?r? mil? prietenul meu Platon reu?e?te s? p?trund? natura uman? ?i s? simt? r?ul acolo unde nimeni n-ar fi crezut c? se poate ascunde. Ore de diminea?? este o carte despre timpul care i-a fost lui dat. Cartea asta vine din trecut dar apar?ine ?n aceea?i m?sur? prezentului ?i, poate, timpurilor care vor veni. O carte pentru cei ce nu scot din context prezentul pe care nu ei l-au ales. ?n aceia?i m?sur?, un text pentru cei (pu?ini?!) ?n stare s? priceap? c? a trimite ca pe o cer?etoare hoa?? istoria la tribunal este, dac? nu demagogie, atunci o prostie incurabil?. Citi?i Ore de diminea??. Scris? ?i tiparit? ?n anii '70. Este cartea unui autor de seam?. G. B?l?i???

He stood watching while George Atkinson spun around, dark eyes flashing, hair tousled. There was a two days' growth of beard darkening Atkinson's face. "Why, George," Loveral said, swiftly examining the litter of metal and wood which was spread over a table behind Atkinson. There was a home-made hammer in Atkinson's hand. "What have we here, George?""Something for you," Atkinson said, tightening his fingers about the handle of the hammer.Loveral grinned his famous Loveral grin. "That's fine. What could it be?" "None of your damned business.""George," Loveral said, his smile still white but his eyes narrow and quick.The woman was behind them. Her voice screeched. "George, I told you. Why didn't you listen, George? You should have listened to me. You—" Loveral held up a hand, still watching Atkinson. "Now tell me, George, what is it you're making for me?"Atkinson raised the hammer slightly.Loveral stood very still. "That's a nice hammer, George."Atkinson's eyes were black beneath his thick brows."You made that, didn't you?" Loveral asked."Yes, I made that," Atkinson said. "I made that and I made something else. Another minute and I'll have that finished, too." "George," said Loveral, stepping quietly forward, "I don't like to say this, of course. You've been one of our very best members. But nobody works here, George. We can't allow that. You know the rules." "I know the rules, all right.""Well, then," Loveral said, extending his hand toward the hammer, "we'll just destroy this and whatever else you might have been making. We'll just forget it ever happened. We'll get along real fine that way, George. We'll just be such good friends.""We'll just go to hell," said Atkinson, snatching his hammer away. Loveral's smile disappeared. "I'll tell you, George. I have to mean business with this. You know the reasons. If we allow anybody to work here, then there's going to be trouble. That isn't our plan. We're here to grow within ourselves and expand culturally. Not to commercialize a beautiful world like Dream Planet."

Doktor Proktor, a kétbalkezes professzor maga sem sejti, milyen kalandokba keveredik majd, amikor véletlenül feltalálja a f?ldkerekség legnagyobb erej? pukiporát, ami bárkit képes az ?rbe r?píteni. ?m amíg két kisiskolás segít?je azon dolgozik, hogy a találmány híressé és gazdaggá tegye ?ket, a csodaszer híre illetéktelenek fülébe is eljut. A doktor hamarosan egy sz?késbiztos cellában találja magát, a gonosz ikerpár ellopja a találmányt, és egy folyton éhes anakonda is beszabadul Oslo szennyvízcsatornáiba. K?zben pedig feltartóztathatatlanul k?zeleg a nemzeti ünnepre gyakorló iskolai katonazenekar... A világhír? skandináv krimiíró Doktor Proktor-sorozatát már t?bb mint 20 nyelvre fordították le. A f?szerepl?k fergeteges kalandjait elképeszt? fordulatok, abszurd humor és a Nesb?-féle kül?nleges atmoszféra teszi feledhetetlenné.

The story begins on May 5, 1805, in one of the wildest and most abrupt portions of New Spain, which now forms the State of Coahuila, belonging to the Mexican Confederation. If the reader will have the kindness to take a glance at a numerous cavalcade, which is debouching from a canyon and scaling at a gallop the scarped side of a rather lofty hill, on the top of which stands an aldea, or village of Indios mansos, he will at the same time form the acquaintance of several of our principal characters, and the country in which the events recorded in this narrative occurred. This cavalcade was composed of fifteen individuals in all; ten of them were lancers, attired in that yellow uniform which procured them the nickname of tamarindos. These soldiers were execrated by the people, in consequence of their cruelty. They advanced in good order, commanded by a subaltern and an alférez—an old trooper who had grown gray in harness, who had long white moustachios and a disagreeable face. As he galloped on, he looked around him with the careless, wearied air of a man for whom the future reserves no hopes either of ambition, love, or fortune. About twenty paces from this little band, and just so far ahead that their remarks reached the soldiers' ears in a completely incomprehensible fashion, three persons, two men and a woman, were riding side by side.The first was a gentleman of about thirty years of age, of commanding stature; his harsh, haughty, and menacing features were rendered even more gloomy by a deep scar of a livid hue which commenced on his right temple and divided his face into two nearly equal parts. This man, who was dressed in the sumptuous costume of the Mexican campesinos, which he wore with far from common grace, was named Don Aníbal de Saldibar, and was considered the richest hacendero in the province.His companion, who kept slightly in the rear, doubtless through respect, was a civilized Indian, with a quick eye, aquiline nose, and a wide mouth lined with two rows of dazzling white teeth. His countenance indicated intelligence and bravery. He was short and robust, and the almost disproportioned development of his muscles gave an enormous width to his limbs. This individual must assuredly be endowed with extraordinary strength. His attire, not nearly so rich as that of the hacendero, displayed a certain pretension to elegance, which was an extraordinary thing in an Indian. This man's name was Pedro Sotavento, and he was majordomo to Don Aníbal.As we have said, the third person was a female. Although it was easy to see, through the juvenile grace of her movements and her taper waist, that she was still very young, she was so discreetly hidden behind gauze and muslin veils, in order to protect her from the burning heat of the sun which was then at its zenith, that it was impossible to distinguish her features. Long black locks escaped from beneath her broad-brimmed vicu?a hat, and fell in profusion on her pink and white shoulders, which were scarcely veiled by a China crape rebozo. At the moment when we approach these three persons they were conversing together with considerable animation."No," Don Aníbal said, with a frown, as he smote the pommel of his saddle, "it is not possible, I cannot believe in so much audacity on the part of these Indian brutes. You must have been deceived, Sotavento." The majordomo grinned knowingly, and buried his head between his shoulders with a motion which was habitual to him."You will see, mi amo," he replied, in a honeyed voice, "my information is positive." "What!" the hacendero continued with increased fury, "They would really attempt resistance! Why, they must be mad!""Not so much as you suppose, mi amo; the aldea is large and contains at least three thousand callis.""What matter? Suppose there were twice as many, is not one Spaniard as good as ten Indians?"

Defoe's novel Robinson Crusoe (1719) tells of a man's shipwreck on a deserted island and his subsequent adventures. The author based part of his narrative on the story of the Scottish castaway Alexander Selkirk, who spent four years stranded on the island of Juan Fernandez. He may have also been inspired by the Latin or English translation of a book by the Andalusian-Arab Muslim polymath Ibn Tufail, who was known as "Abubacer" in Europe. The Latin edition of the book was entitled Philosophus Autodidactus and it was an earlier novel that is also set on a deserted island. "One day, about noon, going towards my boat, I was exceedingly surprised with the print of a man's naked foot on the shore, which was very plain to be seen on the sand."— Defoe's Robinson Crusoe, 1719 The novel has been variously read as an allegory for the development of civilisation, as a manifesto of economic individualism and as an expression of European colonial desires but it also shows the importance of repentance and illustrates the strength of Defoe's religious convictions. It is also considered by many to be the first novel written in English. Early critics, such as Robert Louis Stevenson admired it saying that the footprint scene in Crusoe was one of the four greatest in English literature and most unforgettable; more prosaically, Dr. Wesley Vernon has seen the origins of forensic podiatry in this episode. It has inspired a new genre, the Robinsonade as works like Johann David Wyss's The Swiss Family Robinson (1812) adapt its premise and has provoked modern postcolonial responses, including J. M. Coetzee's Foe (1986) and Michel Tournier's Vendredi ou les Limbes du Pacifique (in English, Friday, or, The Other Island) (1967). Two sequels followed, Defoe's The Farther Adventures of Robinson Crusoe (1719) and his Serious reflections during the life and surprising adventures of Robinson Crusoe: with his Vision of the angelick world (1720). Jonathan Swift's Gulliver's Travels (1726) in part parodies Defoe's adventure novel. ? About Author: Daniel Defoe (1660 – 24 April 1731), born Daniel Foe, was an English trader, writer, journalist, pamphleteer, and spy, now most famous for his novel Robinson Crusoe. Defoe is notable for being one of the earliest proponents of the novel, as he helped to popularise the form in Britain, and, along with others such as Samuel Richardson, is among the founders of the English novel. A prolific and versatile writer, he wrote more than 500 books, pamphlets and journals on various topics (including politics, crime, religion, marriage, psychology and the supernatural). He was also a pioneer of economic journalism. ? Early lifeDaniel Foe (his original name) was probably born in the parish of St. Giles Cripplegate, London. Defoe later added the aristocratic-sounding "De" to his name and on occasion claimed descent from the family of De Beau Faux. His birthdate and birthplace are uncertain: sources offer dates of anywhere between 1659 to 1662; considered most likely to be 1660. His father, James Foe, was a prosperous tallow chandler and a member of the Butchers' Company. In Defoe's early life he experienced firsthand some of the most unusual occurrences in English history: in 1665, 70,000 were killed by the Great Plague of London and the Great Fire of London (1666) left standing only Defoe's and two other houses in his neighborhood. In 1667, when he was probably about 7, Dutch fleet sailed up the Medway via the River Thames and attacked Chatham. His mother Annie had died by the time he was about 10.