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قراءة كتاب The Watchers: A Novel
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Transcriber's Notes:
1. Page scan source:
http://www.archive.org/details/watchersnovel00masorich
THE WATCHERS
THE
WATCHERS
A Novel
BY
A. E. W. MASON
AUTHOR OF "THE COURTSHIP OF MORRICE BUCKLER," ETC.
NEW YORK
FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Copyright, 1899.
By Frederick A. Stokes Company.
CONTENTS
| Chap. | |
| I. | |
| II. | |
| III. | |
| IV. |
DESCRIBES THE REMARKABLE MANNER IN WHICH CULLEN MAYLE LEFT TRESCO. |
| V. | |
| VI. | |
| VII. |
TELLS OF AN EXTRAORDINARY INCIDENT IN CULLEN MAYLE'S BEDROOM. |
| VIII. | |
| IX. | |
| X. | |
| XI. | |
| XII. | |
| XIII. | |
| XIV. |
IN WHICH PETER TORTUE EXPLAINS HIS INTERVENTION ON MY BEHALF. |
| XV. | |
| XVI. | |
| XVII. | |
| XVIII. | |
| XIX. |
THE WATCHERS
CHAPTER I
TELLS OF A DOOR AJAR AND OF A LAD WHO STOOD BEHIND IT
I had never need to keep any record either of the date or place. It was the fifteenth night of July, in the year 1758, and the place was Lieutenant Clutterbuck's lodging at the south corner of Burleigh Street, Strand. The night was tropical in its heat, and though every window stood open to the Thames, there was not a man, I think, who did not long for the cool relief of morning, or step out from time to time on to the balcony and search the dark profundity of sky for the first flecks of grey. I cannot be positive about the entire disposition of the room: but certainly Lieutenant Clutterbuck was playing at ninepins down the middle with half a dozen decanters and a couple of silver salvers; and Mr. Macfarlane, a young gentleman of a Scottish regiment, was practising a game of his own.
He carried the fire-irons and Lieutenant Clutterbuck's sword under his arm, and walked solidly about the floor after a little paper ball rolled up out of a news sheet, which he hit with one of these instruments, selecting now the poker, now the tongs or the sword with great deliberation, and explaining his selection with even greater earnestness; there was besides a great deal of noise, which seemed to be a quality of the room rather than the utterance of any particular person; and I have a clear recollection that everything, from the candles to the glasses on the tables and the broken tobacco pipes on the floor, was of a dazzling and intolerable brightness. This brightness distressed me particularly, because just opposite to where I sat a large mirror hung upon the wall between two windows. On each side was a velvet hollow of gloom, in the middle this glittering oval. Every ray of light within the room seemed to