Nick Carter is a pseudonym used by various authors who have contributed to the 'Nick Carter' series, which are usually written in first person. Ostensibly written by Nick Carter himself, the books in this series were the work of John R. Coryell (1848–1924), Frederick Van Rensselaer Dey (1861–1922), Thomas C. Harbaugh (1849–1924), and Eugene T. Sawyer (1847–1924).
The American Marquis; or, Detective for Vengeanceby Nick Carter
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“The American Marquis”, an early American “dime novel”, is a delightful romp of a romance within a detective mystery that takes place in France and the United States. It is a story of a wedding with masked participants who have never met before. However, the bride and groom fall in love in that moment only to be separated immediately afterward. The rest of the comedy-of-errors story relates how the athletic, resourceful, master-of-disguise husband goes about finding his lost wife.
The story was originally published in “The Magnet Detective Library”, issue #7 (circa 1887) and also in the “Secret Service Series”, issue #21, 1889, both by Street & Smith publishers. The author, Nick Carter (sometimes Nicholas Carter), is a pseudonym used by several different authors. The original Nick Carter was a fictional detective created by John Russell Coryell. The character first appeared in the New York Weekly magazine in 1886 which was also published by Street & Smith.
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Here is an excerpt:
A sudden stop; a shout; the creaking of an iron gate; the crushing of stones under the wheels as the carriage moved more slowly on.
“We are here.”
“Remarkable. I thought we were there. May I take this bandage off my eyes?”
“Not yet,” interrupted the stranger, hastily.
The door was opened and Clinton assisted out of the carriage.
Up a short flight of marble steps; across a tessellated porch.
Clinton counted the steps, counted the strides over the porch.
Through a wide door-way into a large hall. Clinton could tell that by the echo of their footfalls.
Up a broad wooden staircase, with massive, carved balustrades.
Clinton did not fail to note every possible particular.
Two wide landings before the upper hall was reached.
Seven paces forward, ten to the right; double doors opened; a large room entered, and the doors closed.
“Stand here a few moments and do not remove the bandage.”
The echo of the stranger’s steps on the wooden floor was followed by the closing of a door at the other end of the chamber.
Scarcely had the door closed than from the side of the chamber Clinton could hear the noise of another door softly opened and as softly closed.
A gentle rustle of female garments, a low, musical, half suppressed laugh, and all was still.
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