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The Call of Wings: A Short Story
The Call of Wings: A Short Story
The Call of Wings: A Short Story
Ebook36 pages21 minutes

The Call of Wings: A Short Story

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About this ebook

Previously published in the print anthology The Golden Ball and Other Stories.

One frosty evening, millionaire hedonist Silas Hamer is gripped with a sudden fear of his own mortality. He encounters a man who he believes has triggered his spiritual awakening.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherHarperCollins
Release dateSep 10, 2013
ISBN9780062300669
The Call of Wings: A Short Story
Author

Agatha Christie

Agatha Christie is known throughout the world as the Queen of Crime. Her books have sold over a billion copies in English with another billion in over 70 foreign languages. She is the most widely published author of all time and in any language, outsold only by the Bible and Shakespeare. She is the author of 80 crime novels and short story collections, 20 plays, and six novels written under the name of Mary Westmacott.

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    Book preview

    The Call of Wings - Agatha Christie

    Contents

    The Call of Wings

    About the Author

    The Agatha Christie Collection

    Copyright

    About the Publisher

    THE CALL OF WINGS

    Silas Hamer heard it first on a wintry night in February. He and Dick Borrow had walked from a dinner given by Bernard Seldon, the nerve specialist. Borrow had been unusually silent, and Silas Hamer asked him with some curiosity what he was thinking about. Borrow’s answer was unexpected.

    I was thinking, that of all these men tonight, only two amongst them could lay claim to happiness. And that these two, strangely enough, were you and I!

    The word strangely was apposite, for no two men could be more dissimilar than Richard Borrow, the hardworking East End parson, and Silas Hamer, the sleek complacent man whose millions were a matter of household knowledge.

    It’s odd, you know, mused Borrow, I believe you’re the only contented millionaire I’ve ever met.

    Hamer was silent a moment. When he spoke his tone had altered.

    I used to be a wretched shivering little newspaper boy. I wanted then—what I’ve got now!—the comfort and the luxury of money, not its power. I wanted money, not to wield as a force, but to spend lavishly—on myself! I’m frank about it, you see. Money can’t buy everything, they say. Very true. But it can buy everything I want—therefore I’m satisfied. I’m a materialist, Borrow, out and out a materialist!

    The broad glare of the lighted thoroughfare confirmed this confession of faith. The sleek lines of Silas Hamer’s body were amplified by the heavy fur-lined coat,

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