Le Loup solitaire - La série

Amateur d’art éclairé, figure de la nuit parisienne, Michael Lanyard mène en réalité une double vie, car il n’est autre que le Loup solitaire, le bandit le plus audacieux de la Belle Époque. Mais voilà qu’en plus de la police et des ombres de son passé, le Loup solitaire va devoir affronter... la Meute ! Auteur d’une quarantaine de romans, qui vont du policier au sentimental en passant par l’aventure, Louis Joseph Vance (1879-1933) est resté célèbre pour son personnage du Loup solitaire, gentleman-cambrioleur émule d’Arsène Lupin, héros d’une saga où le drame côtoie la gouaille et le crime l’Histoire en train de s’écrire. Après plusieurs films hollywoodiens, le Loup solitaire fut adapté en série télé en 1954-55, avec Louis Hayward dans le rôle-titre. Traduction de Théo Varlet & Louis Postif, révisée par Jean-Daniel Brèque.

Des tranchées de la Somme aux cañons de Manhattan, en passant par les eaux périlleuses de l’Atlantique, une course poursuite haletante qui, de steamer naufragé en U-Boot clandestin, mènera le Loup solitaire à la confrontation suprême. Et, peut-être, à la rédemption... Un roman d’espionnage écrit à l’époque même de son déroulement, dans le vif de l’action. Auteur d’une quarantaine de romans, qui vont du policier au sentimental en passant par l’aventure, Louis Joseph Vance (1879-1933) est resté célèbre pour son personnage du Loup solitaire, gentleman cambrioleur, émule d’Arsène Lupin, héros d’une saga où le drame côtoie la gouaille et le crime l’Histoire en train de s’écrire. Après plusieurs films hollywoodiens, le Loup solitaire fut adapté en série télé en 1954-55, avec Louis Hayward dans le rôle-titre. Traduction de Théo Varlet & Louis Postif, révisée par Jean-Daniel Brèque.

Through the suave, warm radiance of that afternoon of Spring in England a gentleman of modest and commonly amiable deportment bore a rueful countenance down Piccadilly and into Halfmoon street, where presently he introduced it to one whom he found awaiting him in his lodgings, much at ease in his easiest chair, making free with his whiskey and tobacco, and reading a slender brown volume selected from his shelves. This degage person was patently an Englishman, though there were traces of Oriental ancestry in his cast. The other, he of the doleful habit, was as unmistakably of Gallic pattern, though he dressed and carried himself in a thoroughly Anglo-Saxon fashion, and even seemed a trace intrigued when greeted by a name distinctively French. For the Englishman, rousing from his appropriated ease, dropped his book to the floor beside the chair, uprose and extended a cordial hand, exclaiming: "H'are ye, Monsieur Duchemin?" To this the other responded, after a slight pause, obscurely enough: "Oh! ancient history, eh? Well, for the matter of that: How are you, Mister Wertheimer?" Their hands fell apart, and Monsieur Duchemin proceeded to do away his hat and stick and chamois gloves; while his friend, straddling in front of a cold grate and extending his hands to an imaginary blaze, covered with a mild complaint the curiosity excited by a brief study of that face of melancholy."

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

1923. American screenwriter, short story writer and novelist. Vance's The Lone Wolf books feature Michael Lanyard as a charming sort of rogue, a European jewel thief with a soft spot for damsels in distress, trained in the criminal arts by the mysterious Irishman, Bourke. This is the fifth volume in his Lone Wolf stories. The book begins: I love you, said Michael Lanyard. He spoke in French; and that simple phrase, covered by the surging song of strings and woodwinds, was inaudible to other ears. Only the woman with him heard and, hearing, roused from the reverie into which she too insensibly had lapsed, turning back from the prismatic pageantry of the dance eyes whose grave regard gave never a clue to the emotions his words inspired. See other titles by this author available from Kessinger Publishing.

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