[Transcriber's note: the source book had no listed author, however, the British Library catalog shows John Arthur Hamilton as the author.]

THE MS. IN
A RED BOX

LONDON: JOHN LANE, THE BODLEY HEAD
NEW YORK: JOHN LANE COMPANY

Cheap Edition

BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. LTD., LONDON

THIS WORK IS DEDICATED
TO ITS UNKNOWN AUTHOR
BY THE PUBLISHER

ORIGINAL PUBLISHER'S NOTE

One day in April last a parcel was sent to the Bodley Head. On being opened it was found to contain a MS. in a red box, without any accompanying letter, without title, author's name, or address. For some days it was not entered in the book of the firm kept for the purpose of registering the receipt of MSS.; but, as no letter was received, towards the end of the month it was recorded in pencil as follows: "The MS. in a Red Box." According to the usual course it was then sent to the publisher's reader, who reported on it with enthusiasm; meanwhile there had been no inquiry from the author, and the publisher read it for himself, and fully endorsed the opinion of his literary adviser. After some discussion, the following advertisement was inserted in the pages of The Athenæum and The Academy:—

TO AUTHORS.

NOTICE.—If the Writer of a Historical Novel, without Title, Author's Name, or Address, sent some weeks ago to the Bodley Head in a Red Box, will communicate with the Publisher, he will hear of something to his advantage.

JOHN LANE.
Vigo Street, London, W.

This gave rise to much comment in the press, and of course brought several applications from authors of MSS. which had gone astray.

The publisher learnt, to his bewilderment, that MSS. of novels have a tendency to wander irresponsibly in space, somewhat after the fashion of comets.

Later on the publisher again advertised, stating that he would publish the book on a certain day under the title of "The MS. in a Red Box," unless the author communicated with him before the advertised date.

For the selection of the title, the publisher is indebted to Mrs. W. K. Clifford, Mrs. Ford of Pencarrow, Mrs. Wilberforce, Mr. I. N. Ford of the New York Tribune, Mr. Henry Harland, Mr. W. J. Locke, and Professor York Powell, as it happened that these seven all suggested the same title on the same day; and the superstitious instinct of the publisher was not proof against this consensus of opinion.

Mr. Ford is responsible for the cover, which represents the Red Box in which the MS. originally reached the Bodley Head; but to the Hon. Mrs. Anstruther is due the witty suggestion of adding the Della Robbia plaque from the Florentine Foundling Hospital.

The author may, perhaps, ask why the publisher did not wait longer for him to reveal himself. The reason was that it appeared that the interest aroused in this foundling romance, through the author's modesty or carelessness, would be best maintained by publication while the incidents were still fresh in the minds of the public. The publisher holds that what is the author's interest is also his.

With regard to the business side of this transaction, the publisher will try to meet the author's demands in a spirit of fairness; but, should there be any dispute arise, he, for his part, will be quite willing to leave the decision with the President of the Society of Authors, Mr. George Meredith, and the President of the Publishers' Association, Mr. Charles James Longman, the prince of English publishers.

For the author's protection, some slight changes have been made in the MS., in no way, however, affecting the story, but of sufficient importance to prevent any false claim from being successfully advanced. The author's interests have been further safeguarded by "The MS. in a Red Box" being copyrighted and published in the United States of America. The work has been seen through the press by Mr. Richard Upton, of Jesus College, Cambridge.

Apart from the interest the publisher has had in reading the book, he has to thank the author for relieving the tedium of ordinary publishing, and, in addition, for providing him with the unique experience of dedicating a book to its unknown author.

THE BODLEY HEAD

The MS. in a RED BOX

CHAPTER I

On the tenth of May in the year sixteen hundred and twenty-seven, I rode from Temple Belwood to Crowle, as blithe and merry as any young fellow in the world. For one thing, the day was the finest of an early season, the air sweet with spring odours and glad with pleasant sounds. The laburnums and lilacs and hawthorn and the foreign chestnuts (in blossom for the first time at Temple Belwood that year) were full of bloom. The hen-pheasants were whistling to their new-hatched broods; the fresh-shorn sheep were answering the bleating of their lambs; trees and bushes rang with the melody of small birds, and from the holms and islets of marsh and mere came a din of quacking, clanging, and chattering water-fowl, which distance mingled and softened into music. But what a pother I make! It was a fine spring day in Axholme. The great reason for gladness was that I had received good news—news of hard won victory from my father, then in London. For years the Isle had been threatened with invasion by one Cornelius Vermuijden, a Dutchman, who had induced the King to grant him authority to drain the meres, embank and stop the rivers of the Isle, and transform the country at his pleasure, regardless of the rights of the Isle Commoners covenanted in the Deed of Earl Mowbray. When the Dutchman had completed his precious scheme, one third of the land reclaimed was to become the property of the King, another to be Vermuijden's, and the remaining third to be divided among the Commoners of the Isle, that is, the land-owners. This, without the consent of the land-owners, be it understood, and in nowise considering the ruin certain to befall hundreds of poorer folk, who lived by fishing, fowling, reed-cutting, egg-gathering, and the like crafts of marshmen.

When the first rumour of the plan came to Axholme, it was theme for laughter. What man in his senses could believe that his Majesty would empower a foreigner to lord it over two hundred and fifty square miles of English soil, diverting rivers, cutting canals, turning pools and lakes into boggy ground, and of necessity (so said shrewd men, who had knowledge of such matters, and as indeed proved to be the case), turning fruitful fields into marsh and swamp? But consternation quickly followed jesting, for the incredible thing was true. His Majesty had great need of money, and the Dutchman held command of inexhaustible treasure, so the Isle was to be given over to his will. Then gentle and simple alike turned to my father, Thomas Vavasour. They knew his courage and capacity and his public mind. Into his hands they committed their cause, and he became "their Solicitor," as they loved to call him, though he was no lawyer by profession, nor ever received aught for his services. He had been in London on this business for some weeks, and now wrote to me that he had obtained a judgment of the Court of Exchequer, confirming the rights of the Isle Commoners, and finally quashing the scheme of invasion. My father had worsted the Dutchman—and his Majesty himself—and saved the Isle! The news would set the bells ringing in every steeple in Axholme; there would be bonfires on every hill and mound, and feasting and merrymaking in every manor house and farm and cottage. I had been ready to caper and shout when I read the letter, but I suddenly bethought me that the announcement should