My Clockwork Muse Read Online Free Page A

the
boulevard.
    I could feel peoples' eyes on me and heads
turning in my direction as I ran, but I was frantic for news of
Burton. We would see whose delirium was producing visions! As I
neared the headquarters of his Gentleman's Magazine , I grew
certain that I would find the place in mourning, black armbands and
veils. Another thought occurred to me, however, almost causing me
to abandon the enterprise altogether. Would I alone carry the
burden of knowing the man's fate? How could I face his associates
when shown his empty chair, desolate artifact of a missing man,
when I had just seen him moldering in his tomb? I no longer trusted
my senses. Briggs had so planted the seed of doubt in my mind that
I dared not confess what I had seen. I would be forced to hold my
tongue and did not know if I could.
    But I was determined to learn the truth, so I
dashed on without hesitation. I burst through the door without
pausing to compose myself. A man at a desk immediately rose to meet
me. Seeing the horrified look in his eye, I remembered where I was.
I stopped and took a deep breath.
    "I am here to see Mr. Burton," I said with as
much dignity as I could muster. I straightened my coat and smoothed
my hair. I was still breathing hard from my mad dash and my words
came out clipped. Behind a half-wall topped with frosted glass to
my left, I could hear the sounds of people working at their desks.
"If you would be so kind as to fetch him for me."
    "I'm afraid that is quite impossible, sir,"
the man said, and I felt my pulse quicken.
    "And why is that?" I inquired, fearing the
answer. I waited with trepidation. Because he is dead , I
expected to hear. Or No one has seen him for nigh on three weeks
now... No one but me, that is. I did not know what I wanted to
hear. I seemed to fear every outcome.
    But the man said none of these things.
    "He is a busy man, Mr...?"
    "Poe," I blurted out, failing to think of an
alias in time. I cursed my feeble brain. "Tell him it is Mr. Poe to
see him."
    "An appointment is necessary," the man said,
gesturing vaguely toward a book that lay open upon his desk. In it,
he had penned the day's appointments in a flowery script.
    I took a couple of steps forward and the man
jerked back as if I meant to bite him. I noticed that the sounds
from behind the frosted glass had ceased. "Does that mean he is
here then? Billy Burton is here? Look! These appointments are for
this very day! Are these Burton's appointments?"
    "Mr. William Evans Burton, yes," the man said
stiffly, disapproving of my familiar tone.
    Then I heard the man's voice itself. "Is that
you, Poe?"
    I looked up and saw none other than Billy
Burton striding out of his office. A few years my elder, he was a
heavy-set man with long side-whiskers. If anything, he looked to
have gained weight since I had last seen him. He had certainly
gained weight since I fancied I had last seen him. And he had
gotten his lips back too. And he smelled a damn sight better! But
he looked none too happy to see me, though I expected that.
    I rushed past his appointment secretary, much
to the man's loud chagrin. I ignored his protestations, for I had
to reach Burton, to touch him with my own hands. I saw him, but I
scarcely believed it. "Burton!" I cried.
    He took a step back. "Now look here, Poe," he
said in a warning tone. When I didn't stop, he raised his fists and
adopted a pugilist's stance.
    He must have feared that I had come to punch
him in the nose, as I had so often threatened. But punching was the
last thing I had on my mind. I had hardly even considered the idea
that I would find him here in the flesh. I certainly had not
foreseen my emotions upon doing so. With a feeling of unmitigated
happiness, I flung my arms around him. He was tense as a board and
I could feel his clenched fists pressed against my chest. But when
he realized that I embraced him out of joy and not a desire to
squeeze the life from his lungs, he relaxed and gave me a pat or
two on the back, his