According to Their Deeds by Paul Robertson

Author:Paul Robertson
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: ebook, book
ISBN: 0764205684
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2009-02-28T13:00:00+00:00

AFTERNOON

“Mr. Beale?” Alice asked. “Are you expecting someone?”

“Is it obvious?” he said.

“You’ve been looking out that window for twenty minutes.”

“And I couldn’t even tell you what’s out there. I think I’ve been somewhere else entirely.”

“Anyplace nice?”

“I’ve been wandering the Mediterranean.”

“That would be nice!”

“Well . . .” He looked wistfully out the window. “It’s been twenty years of war and dangers, and I’d really rather be home. And I don’t know what to expect when I get there.”

“I see.” Alice nodded, very sympathetically. “Twenty years is a long time. They might think you’re never coming back.”

“I know my beloved will always be true.” Suddenly he was alert, focused on the window. “There! There it is!”

The delivery truck came to a stop and the quick young man bounded up the steps. Charles had the front door open.

“Afternoon, Mr. Beale! Sign here.”

“Thank you, Roger. I’ve been waiting for this one. Alice, could you ask Morgan to come downstairs?”

“What do you think?” Morgan asked.

“I’m not sure. It’s very nice,” Charles said. Both of them were just inches above the front cover. “Very, very nice. We’ll open it.”

He put his gloved finger against the page edges and lifted, opening it in the middle. “The typeset is at least 1800s. And the . . . oh my!”

“What?”

“Look close. At the paper.”

“Is it parchment?”

“Vellum, even. This was a very expensive book.”

“What about now?”

“I don’t know yet.” He turned back to the beginning. “Not much of a title page, is it?”

“No date, no publisher, no city,” Morgan said. “Just the title and author.”

“It could maybe be a half title if there were a regular title page after it.” He shook his head. “But the book is still very nice.”

“But you don’t recognize it all?”

“No. It’s not any printing I know of. Get that Barlow, will you? Thank you.”

Morgan laid a heavy, modern book on the desk, modern at least compared to the other books in the room. Charles opened it with as much respect.

“Alexander Pope.” He found the page. “Two dozen editions before 1850.” He turned the pages of the Odyssey back to the first printed page. “I’ll say 1830s.”

“What about the signature?”

“Right.” He turned back another page to the inside of the front cover. “That is supposed to be an A?”

“And that’s the P,” Morgan said.

“It isn’t even two words. It’s just one word. Even dead, I think Pope would have signed more clearly than that.” He turned back to the first printed page. “Look. At the very inside edge. See?”

“It looks like . . .”

“Yes.” Charles closed the book and looked at it from the top. “Yes. You can see here. There was another page, and it’s been removed. You can see just the sliver that was left.”

“That would have been the real title page?”

Charles had the book open. “It’s been cut out.”

“So it was the half title.”

Charles was staring very hard. “I’m not sure. There’s something about it.”

Morgan waited. Charles looked up at the shelves. All four walls of shelves looked back. The shades varied, but they were all brooding hues of brown.

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