Julius and the Watchmaker Read Online Free Page A

overlooking the backyard. There, framed like a portrait, was the face of an elderly gentleman. He lifted his grey top hat and bowed lightly.
    â€˜We’re closed,’ called out Mr Higgins nervously. The backyard was securely locked. Whoever this stranger was, he had no business being there.
    The man appeared not to hear and tapped again on the glass with the silver tip of his walking cane. Mr Higgins shuffled to the window, closely followed by Julius, and called out, ‘Off with you now, before I call a peeler.’
    The gentleman on the other side of the glass raised his hat once more and said, ‘I’m most terribly sorry to disturb you, Mr Higgins, only it is of the utmost importance that I speak with you. My name is Professor Fox.’
    â€˜Did he say…?’ whispered Mr Higgins out of the corner of his mouth.
    â€˜Yes, he did,’ whispered Julius.
    Julius and his grandfather stared at each other for only a moment before Mr Higgins came to a decision. ‘Let him in. But don’t say a word. I’ll do the talking,’ he said.
    Julius turned the key in the lock, slid the bolts top and bottom and turned the handle. The professor swept in through the door like a gust of expensively scented wind.
    â€˜Good evening, Mr Higgins,’ said the gentleman cheerfully as Julius looked out through the gloom at the securely locked door at the other end of the small backyard. Whichever way the stranger had come in, it was not through the door. When he returned to the parlour Julius looked around for Harrison’s diary. It was nowhere to be seen. The professor stood before the fire, rubbing his backside and surveying the room appreciatively. Julius guessed him to be in his sixties, though he was still sprightly. He wore a grey frockcoat and trousers of the finest material, and his blue-grey eyes sparkled like jewels.
    â€˜Yes, as I was saying, my apologies for the inconvenience, but I wish to purchase a particular book,’ said the professor, pulling a white silk handkerchief out from his shirt cuff and wiping his finely trimmed, white moustache from end to end.
    â€˜I have been traipsing from bookshop to bookshop, alas to no avail. You, Mr Higgins, are the last on my somewhat extensive list, and I simply could not wait until the morrow.’
    â€˜Yes, of course, sir. Always glad to be of service to avid collectors. Which particular volume were you looking for?’
    Julius marvelled at his grandfather’s calm exterior. He was a professional book dealer through and through.
    â€˜It’s not a published volume as such, Mr Higgins. No, it’s rather a queer fish, don’t you know. It’s the handwritten diary of the famous watchmaker and inventor of the chronometer, Mr John Harrison. He kept a secret dairy while toiling in his workshop for nineteen years to build his third prototype. It is that very diary I am in search of.’
    Mr Higgins tapped his chin. ‘Hmm…now let me think. I do recall having heard something once upon a time about such a diary. May I be so bold as to ask what your interest is in this book, sir?’
    â€˜Oh, it’s nothing really. It’s all about watchmaking. All very dreary to the uninitiated. No, it’s simply that it would complete my collection, fill a gap on my bookshelf, as it were.’
    â€˜But you intimated, sir, some urgency in the matter.’
    â€˜Did I?’ said the professor, flicking his handkerchief into shape and pushing it into his suit pocket. ‘Oh, it’s simply that when I get an idea into my head I cannot rest until I have achieved my objective.’
    â€˜I see, well, if you will leave me your card, sir, I’ll be happy to make some enquiries.’
    The professor produced his calling card with a flourish and bowed as he handed it over. ‘Thank you and a very good night to you, Mr Higgins. Please, don’t get up, the boy can see me out.’
    With that, the professor