Death in the Setting Sun Read Online Free PDF Page B

There was somebody out there, he felt positive. He watched the shape, which stood quite still beneath the trees, looking towards the house.
    John felt his blood run cold. It stood so still he could almost believe it was a ghost. But he must have made the slightest move because suddenly the figure, voluminously cloaked so that it was impossible to guess its gender, took off to the back of the garden and must have climbed the wall leading to Dolphin’s Yard where the horses were stabled and the coach kept.
    The Apothecary toyed with the idea of running into the street and giving chase but realised, even as the idea came to him, that the notion was doomed. Dressed only in a nightshirt and adding the extra minutes it would take to fetch his pistol, he would have already lost the intruder. Deep in thought he returned to bed, having first checked all the locks, determining to say nothing to Emilia.

Chapter Four

    T hroughout the first week of December it remained just as cold, then, in the second week, snow fell on London and refused to go away. Ordering the path outside number two Nassau Street swept, John struggled down Gerrard Street on his way to work, then encountered another snowdrift in Shug Lane.
    “Come along, Gideon,” he called and set to with his apprentice, sweeping for all they were worth, until he had cleared the alley a goodly way on either side of the shop.
    Then, rosy-cheeked and blowing their hands, master and pupil went into the compounding room and brewed tea.
    John stared mournfully outwards. It was very grey and the first few flakes were starting to fall again. “I doubt we’ll get much custom today,” he said. But even as he uttered the words a shopkeeper from next door appeared and, pushing his way in, set the bell jangling.
    “Good morning, Mr. Rawlings,” he said through chattering teeth.
    “Good morning, Mr. Colville.”
    “Have you something for my apprentice? The boy has a streaming cold and today seems totally devoid of energy. Unless he’s putting on an act, of course.”
    “I’ll come in and see him as soon as I’ve finished my tea. Would you like some?”
    “I’d appreciate a cup. Thank you.”
    They all three went into the compounding room and Gideon poured for Eustace Colville, whose shop John feared going in to for the temptation to buy was so great. Stacked almost to the ceiling with books, it contained ancient works as well as those of a more up-to-date nature, and had everything from heavy tomes of maps to the latest novel. It also imported books from Europe which were aimed at those emigres living in London, amongst whom Mr. Colville had a thriving clientele.
    Tea drunk, John put on his greatcoat before walking the few steps to the next door shop where he found the apprentice in a sorry state. Eyes streaming, nose pouring, the boy had a fever and a distillation upon his lungs.
    John turned to the bookseller. “This lad needs to go home to bed. He has a severe attack of ague and really should rest.”
    Mr. Colville looked slightly daunted. “Well, I can’t leave my shop to walk him back. Oh dear!”
    “I’ll send Gideon to get a chair, if that’s agreeable.” Eustace pulled a slight face but agreed and a few minutes later, looking terrible but clutching two bottles, one made from the fresh leaves of Colt’s Foot to relieve his cough, the other a mixture of distilled water, again of Colt’s Foot but mixed with Elderflowers and Nightshade for the ague, Mark the apprentice was on his way. Gideon stared after the retreating chair.
    “I’ve a sore throat, Sir.”
    “Right,” answered John. “Let’s have a look.”
    He peered down the chasm but could see nothing untoward. However, he decided to play the game.
    “Um, that will need watching. I recommend the juice of the leaves of Birch Tree. Every hour on the hour. Wash your mouth out with that and I’ll keep an eye on you. Here’s some. Start now.”
    He ran his hand along the shelves and handed the wretched boy