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When the World Shook

by H. Rider (Henry Rider) Haggard

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~12 hr 32 min · full book48 reading sectionsFree to read

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Inside this work

  1. 01Front matter~3 min
  2. 02CHAPTER I. Arbuthnot Describes Himself~25 min
  3. 03CHAPTER II. Bastin and Bickley~23 min
  4. 04CHAPTER III. Natalie~24 min
  5. 05CHAPTER IV. Death and Departure — part 1~25 min
  6. 06CHAPTER IV. Death and Departure — part 2~2 min
  7. 07CHAPTER V. The Cyclone — part 1~25 min
  8. 08CHAPTER V. The Cyclone — part 2~2 min
  9. 09CHAPTER VI. Land — part 1~25 min
  10. 10CHAPTER VI. Land — part 2~6 min
  11. 11CHAPTER VII. The Orofenans — part 1~25 min
  12. 12CHAPTER VII. The Orofenans — part 2~3 min
  13. 13CHAPTER VIII. Bastin Attempts the Martyr’s Crown — part 1~25 min
  14. 14CHAPTER VIII. Bastin Attempts the Martyr’s Crown — part 2~3 min
  15. 15CHAPTER IX. The Island in the Lake — part 1~25 min
  16. 16CHAPTER IX. The Island in the Lake — part 2~4 min
  17. 17CHAPTER X. The Dwellers in the Tomb — part 1~25 min
  18. 18CHAPTER X. The Dwellers in the Tomb — part 2~4 min
  19. 19CHAPTER XI. Resurrection — part 1~25 min
  20. 20CHAPTER XI. Resurrection — part 2~8 min
  21. 21CHAPTER XII. Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand Years! — part 1~25 min
  22. 22CHAPTER XII. Two Hundred and Fifty Thousand Years! — part 2~10 min
  23. 23CHAPTER XIII. Oro Speaks and Bastin Argues — part 1~25 min
  24. 24CHAPTER XIII. Oro Speaks and Bastin Argues — part 2~4 min
  25. 25CHAPTER XIV. The Under-world — part 1~25 min
  26. 26CHAPTER XIV. The Under-world — part 2~3 min
  27. 27CHAPTER XV. Oro in His House~21 min
  28. 28CHAPTER XVI. Visions of the Past — part 1~25 min
  29. 29CHAPTER XVI. Visions of the Past — part 2~1 min
  30. 30CHAPTER XVII. Yva Explains — part 1~25 min

A few words to begin

I suppose that I, Humphrey Arbuthnot, should begin this history in which Destiny has caused me to play so prominent a part, with some short account of myself and of my circumstances. I was born forty years ago in this very Devonshire village in which I write, but not in the same house. Now I live in the Priory, an ancient place and a fine one in its way, with its panelled rooms, its beautiful gardens where, in this mild climate, in addition to our own, flourish so many plants which one would only expect to find in countries that lie nearer to the sun, and its green, undulating park studded with great timber trees. The view, too, is perfect; behind and around the rich Devonshire landscape with its hills and valleys and its scarped faces of red sandstone, and at a distance in front, the sea. There are little towns quite near too, that live for the most part on visitors, but these are so hidden away by the contours of the ground that from the Priory one cannot see them. Such is Fulcombe where I live, though for obvious reasons I do not give it its real name.

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