Стража! Стража!

           "

           "Well,Ithoughtitwastime-"

           "Why?"

           Hargaletthepanfallfromhispudgyfingers."Well,Ithought,ifthekingshouldhappentocomein-"

           "But,Cap’n-"

           Vimes’saccusingfingerburieditselfuptothesecondjointinHarga’sexpansivevest.

           "Youdon’tevenknowthewretchedfellow’sname!"heshouted.

           Hargarallied."Ido,Cap’n,"hestuttered."CourseIdo.Seenitonthedecorationsandeverything.He’scalledRexVivat."

           Verygently,shakinghisheadindespair,cryinginhisheartfortheessentialservilityofmankind,Vimeslethimgo.

           Inanothertimeandplace,theLibrarianfinishedreading.He’dreachedtheendofthetext.Nottheendofthebook-therewasplentymorebook.Ithadbeenscorchedbeyondthepointoflegibility,though.

           Notthatthelastfewunburnedpageswereveryeasytoread.Theauthor’shandhadbeenshaking,he’dbeenwritingfast,andhe’dblottedalot.ButtheLibrarianhadwrestledwithmanyaterrifyingtextinsomeoftheworstbookseverbound,wordsthattriedtoreadyouasyoureadthem,wordsthatwrithedonthepage.Atleasttheseweren’twordslikethat.Thesewerejustthewordsofamanfrightenedforhislife.Amanwritingadreadfulwarning.

           ItwasapagealittlebackfromtheburnedsectionthatdrewtheLibrarian’seye.Hesatandstaredatitforsometime.

           Thenhestaredatthedarkness.

           Itwashisdarkness.Hewasasleepouttheresomewhere.Somewhereoutthereathiefwasheadingforthisplace,tostealthisbook.