{"product_id":"9781612100210","title":"Monsters of Moyen","description":"\"Who is that man?\" asked a young lady passenger of the steward, with the imperious inflection which tells of riches able to force obedience from menials who labor for hire.\u003cbr\u003eShe pointed a bejeweled finger at the slender, soldierly figure which stood in the prow of the liner, like a figurehead, peering into the storm under the vessel's forefoot.\u003cbr\u003e\"That gentleman, milady?\" repeated the steward obsequiously. \"That is Prester Kleig, head of the Secret Agents, Master of the Secret Room, just now returning from Madagascar, via Europe, after a visit to the realm of Moyen.\"\u003cbr\u003eA gasp of terror burst from the lips of the woman. Her cheeks blanched.\u003cbr\u003e\"Moyen!\" She almost whispered it. \"Moyen! The half-god of Asia, whom men call mad!\"\u003cbr\u003e\"Not mad, milady. No, Moyen is not mad, save with a lust for power. He is the conqueror of the ages, already ruling more of the earth's population than any man has ever done before him—even Alexander!\"\u003cbr\u003eBut the young lady was not listening to stewards. Wealthy young ladies did not, save when asked questions dealing with personal service to themselves. Her eyes devoured the slender man who stood in the prow of the Stellar, while her lips shaped, over and over again, the dread name which was on the lips of the people of the world:\u003cbr\u003e\"Moyen! Moyen!\"\u003cbr\u003eUp in the prow, if Prester Kleig, who carried a dread secret in his breast, knew of the young lady's regard, he gave no sign. There were touches of gray at his temples, though he was still under forty. He had seen more of life, knew more of its terrors, than most men twice his age—because he had lived harshly in service to his country.\u003cbr\u003eHe was thinking of Moyen, the genius of the misshapen body, the pale eyes which reflected the fires of a Satanic soul, set deeply in the midst of the face of an angel; and wondering if he would be able to arrive in time, sorry that he had not returned home by airplane.\u003cbr\u003eHe had taken the Stellar only because the peacefulness of ocean liner travel would aid his thoughts, and he required time to marshal them. Liner travel was now a luxury, as all save the immensely wealthy traveled by plane across the oceans. Now Prester Kleig was sorry, for any moment, he felt, Moyen might strike.\u003cbr\u003eHe turned and looked back along the deck of the Stellar. His eyes played over the trimly gowned figure of the woman who questioned the steward, but did not really see her. And then....\u003cbr\u003e\"Great God!\" The words were a prayer, and they burst from the lips of Prester Kleig like an explosion. Passengers appeared from the lee of lifeboats. Officers on the bridge whirled to look at the man who shouted. Seamen paused in their labors to stare. Aloft in the crow's-nest the lookout lowered his eyes from scouring the horizon to stare at Prester Kleig—who was pointing.\u003cbr\u003eAll eyes turned in the direction indicated","brand":"eStar Books LLC","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47135412027632,"sku":"9781612100210","price":0.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/9781612100210_p0.jpg?v=1763844643","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/9781612100210","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}