Julius and the Watchmaker Read Online Free

imagine what would happen if the strange, little man stopped smiling. He reached out and took the paper, half expecting it to burn his fingers. It felt normal to the touch. Phew.
    The Chinaman bowed again and walked away down the street humming to himself and fading away as he went—until he completely vanished. The sweat on Julius’s skin turned cold. Where’d he go, Higgins? His throbbing knee distracted him before he could work out the answer to that question. He rubbed it back to life—he would need it to get home quick before the urchins regrouped or any more strange characters showed up. The folded paper was thrust into his pocket and forgotten.

    Julius slid his key into the lock at Higgins’ bookshop, and the bell tinkled as he slipped inside. Light was escaping from under the curtain behind the counter—his grandfather was still up. Julius limped into the parlour and threw the five sovereigns on the table. Mr Higgins lifted his head from the book he was reading by the fire and looked his grandson up and down.
    â€˜All in order?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Any problems?’
    â€˜No.’
    Satisfied and a little surprised, the old man went back to his book, his stockinged feet toasting in front of the fire. Julius went to the chair at the other side of the fire, being careful not to limp. He slumped down into it and sighed. It was good to be home again. Success. You’ve survived another day, Higgins. He could feel his body relaxing and sleep sweeping over him. But just as he was about to nod off, Julius glanced across at the book his grandfather was reading. The title was hand-written in fine copperplate lettering: This Being the Diary of John Harrison in the Year of Our Lorde 1738 to 1757.
    â€˜Harrison’s diary? You had the diary all the time?’ he exclaimed.
    â€˜Of course I did, young Caesar. I’ve had it for years.’
    â€˜But you told Mr Springheel that you’d make enquiries.’
    â€˜Yes, I did, didn’t I. For special orders I always like to keep the customer waiting. It helps to up the price if a book is difficult to find. I’m trying discover its value at present.’
    â€˜And, have you?’
    â€˜No, not at all. It’s incredibly tedious, to tell you the truth, my boy. You see, John Harrison was the inventor of the chronometer. All he did his whole life long was make clocks, nothing else. This diary seems to be about his third prototype and then it goes on about the making of a particularly complicated pocket-watch. That takes up most of the diary, in fact. I can’t understand a word of it. I’m really not sure how much I can charge for it.’
    â€˜Well, Mr Springheel’s business partner is very interested in the diary too, but he didn’t strike me as being the watchmaking type.’
    â€˜Maybe there’s something else in here, in that case. I love a good mystery, don’t you?’
    â€˜Sometimes.’
    â€˜There was one odd thing though, come to think of it. Where was it now?’ said Mr Higgins, leafing back through the diary. ‘Ah yes, here it is . ’ He read:
    â€˜I met withe a strange fellow this very morn. The gentleman called himself Professor Fox of the Guild of Watchmakers (a guild of which I am inexplicably unaware). He saide he did have a manner of a proposition he would be pleesed to put before me upon the making of a pocketwatch which would contain all manner of prodigious properties. The gentleman swore me to the uttermost secrecy before he would speeke of what he was want to speeke there of.’
    â€˜Hmm,’ said Julius. ‘Anything after that?’
    â€˜Not specifically about this Fox fellow. Just endless meanderings about the pocketwatch he decided to make. He’s no Daniel Defoe, more of a—’
    Their conversation was interrupted by a tapping on the windowpane. Julius and his grandfather both jumped and turned towards the small window