The fourth of the five Richard Hannay novels by John Buchan. Here we find our hero Richard Hannay living a quiet life in the countryside with a wife and young child but his past comes back to haunt him and he once more must face up to an arch-enemy.

Contains: Island of Sheep, Three Hostages, Mr Hostages, Mr Standfast, The 39 Steps.

John Buchan is the father of the modern spy thriller. This is so even though the Hannay books are not, strictly speaking, about spies at all in the professional sense of the word. They are about penetration of the enemy, about lonely escape and wild journeys, about the thin veneer that stands between civilsation and barbarism.

Major-General Sir Richard Hannay is the fictional secret agent created by Scottish novelist John Buchan and further made popular by the 1935 Alfred Hitchcock film The 39 Steps. Hannay is pre-eminent among early spy-thriller heroes. Caught up in the first of these five gripping adventures just before the outbreak of war in 1914, he manages to thwart the enemy's evil plan and solve the mystery of the “thirty-nine steps”. In his autobiography, Memory Hold-the-Door, Buchan suggests that the character is based, in part, on Edmund Ironside, from Edinburgh, a spy during the Second Boer War. Contains: The Thirty-Nine Steps, Greenmantle, Mr Standfast, The Three Hostages, The Courts of the Morning and The Island of Sheep.

I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old Country, and was fed up with it. If anyone had told me a year ago that I would have been feeling like that I should have laughed at him; but there was the fact. The weather made me liverish, the talk of the ordinary Englishman made me sick, I couldn't get enough exercise, and the amusements of London seemed as flat as soda-water that has been standing in the sun. 'Richard Hannay, ' I kept telling myself, 'you have got into the wrong ditch, my friend, and you had better climb out.' It made me bite my lips to think of the plans I had been building up those last years in Bulawayo. I had got my pile-not one of the big ones, but good enough for me; and I had figured out all kinds of ways of enjoying myself. My father had brought me out from Scotland at the age of six, and I had never been home since; so England was a sort of Arabian Nights to me, and I counted on stopping there for the rest of my days.