The Baroque Cycle - The System Of The World Part 57

"You ask questions like a Regent," Isaac said.

"Like it or not, I am am one, and one, and must must ask such questions. And the question boils down to this: Do you respect the authority of the King, or of Regents appointed to act in his stead, and do you place the Mint and the Currency above other, more personal interests? Or does the Philosoper's Stone come first?" ask such questions. And the question boils down to this: Do you respect the authority of the King, or of Regents appointed to act in his stead, and do you place the Mint and the Currency above other, more personal interests? Or does the Philosoper's Stone come first?"

"I find it astonishing that the son of Drake would even be capable of forming such a question in his mind, let alone asking it. Did you learn nothing nothing from him?" from him?"

"You mistake me. I do not care a fig for the King. In this I am one with Drake. But Drake also taught me the value of money. I may not love money as much as some, but I do respect it. Do you?"

"Do you, Daniel, really believe that I left the Lucasian Chair of Mathematics at the College of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, and came to the Mint, solely out of an interest in numismatics numismatics?"

"Well answered," Daniel said. "Since we agree it is in our interests to continue the pursuit of Jack, let us rejoin the others in back."

YET ANOTHER NEW GUEST HAD come in through the alley-door, and joined the group in the back room, while Daniel and Isaac had been talking. He was a humble humble man, so hunched, so cringing in his posture that one might think Fellows of the Royal Society had waylaid him in the alley and surgically removed his collar-bones. He was kneading his hat to keep his hands from trembling. He smelled bad, and unlike many who do, he well knew it. Yet Mr. Threader was clapping him on the shoulder as if he were a favorite nephew being sworn in to the Bar. "I present Mr. Marsh!" Threader proclaimed. "Mr. Marsh has been the subject of the Clubb's deliberations before." come in through the alley-door, and joined the group in the back room, while Daniel and Isaac had been talking. He was a humble humble man, so hunched, so cringing in his posture that one might think Fellows of the Royal Society had waylaid him in the alley and surgically removed his collar-bones. He was kneading his hat to keep his hands from trembling. He smelled bad, and unlike many who do, he well knew it. Yet Mr. Threader was clapping him on the shoulder as if he were a favorite nephew being sworn in to the Bar. "I present Mr. Marsh!" Threader proclaimed. "Mr. Marsh has been the subject of the Clubb's deliberations before."

"I have forgotten those deliberations," Daniel confessed, "and some of us have never heard them in the first place."

"Infernal Devices require phosphorus," Threader said, "and we have already heard from Mr. MacDougall about the large order he has recently placed for same. It shall lead, in coming weeks, to the boiling-down of a stupendous volume of urine."

"We covered this in our meeting two days ago," Daniel reminded him, "but who is Mr. Marsh?"

"The last time the Clubb attempted to trace the flow of urine from Town to Country, we deputized Monsieur Arlanc, the now infamous, to canva.s.s the Vault-men of Fleet Ditch. He directed our attention to the sad tale of a particular Vault-man who, for reasons unexplained, had driven his load out into Surrey. There he ran afoul of some young blades who were so offended by the fragrance of the vehicle that they drew their swords, and slew his horse, on the spot, depriving the poor owner of his livelihood. Henry Arlanc claimed he had made inquiries, up and down the lower Fleet, as to where the unfortunate fellow might be found, and had been a.s.sured that he had gone off to dwell with his family far away."

"Now I remember it," Daniel said. "We threw up our hands and no more pursued this thread of the investigation."

"Arlanc lied," Mr. Threader proclaimed. "After he was led away in chains, I asked myself, could we credit the representations he had made to us concerning the Vault-man? Since then I have made inquiries of my own. Very little effort was required to learn the truth: the Vault-man had not not fled the city after losing his horse, but had gone to work for another chap in the same line of work, and could be found on the brink of the Fleet any night of the week. Last night, I found him. I present to you Mr. Marsh." fled the city after losing his horse, but had gone to work for another chap in the same line of work, and could be found on the brink of the Fleet any night of the week. Last night, I found him. I present to you Mr. Marsh."

This actually produced a light round of applause-from the looks of it, not a familiar sound to the ears of Mr. Marsh.

"Long have I looked forward to asking you one question, Mr. Marsh," said Orney. "On the night your horse was slain, what on earth had induced you to drive your load into Surrey?"

"I was to be paid, guv'nor," said Mr. Marsh.

"Paid by whom?"

"By certain blokes in those parts who pay money for p.i.s.s from time to time."

"Who are they, and where do they live?"

"No one knows, guv'nor."

"But if you bring them urine, and they pay you money, how can you not know?"

"You takes your wagon to a certain crossroads at midnight, and you blindfolds yourself. When they see you're blindfolded, they come out of hiding, and get into the driver's seat beside you without saying a word. Round and round and up and down and to and fro they drive, for an hour or more, so you've no notion of where you are. Finally you comes to a place where the wagon is emptied. Then they drive you back by the same mazy way you came. Off comes the blindfold. You're back where you started. A purse of money is on the seat beside you."

There was a silence as Mr. Marsh's singular narration was considered. Then Newton spoke: "Your horse is slain. But what became of your wagon?"

"It is still in Surrey, guv'nor."

"Then let us go and fetch it, and bring it to the Court of Technologickal Arts-a.s.suming that Dr. Waterhouse gives his consent-for some repairs, and some alterations," Isaac said. "I have an idea."

Orney's Ship-yard, Rotherhithe MORNING OF 13 AUGUST 1714.

DANIEL ARRIVED EARLIER THAN most, and sat on a bale of Bridewell oak.u.m. It was not a bad place to await the other members of the Clubb. The day was perfect. Later he would be hot, but for the nonce his suit was perfectly matched to the warmth of the sun and the temperate breeze off the river. Before him, three great greased skids declined into the Thames. They had exhausted their burdens-the Tsar's warships-and lay open to new projects. One of Orney's shipwrights stood at the head of the middle way. When he did not move for some minutes, Daniel guessed that something must be wrong. But then the man shifted his weight, c.o.c.ked his head minutely, froze for a few seconds, then hunched his shoulders and let his chin drop almost to his breast-bone. Daniel perceived, then, that the man was thinking. And it was no aimless woolgathering, but a sort of work. As some built ships in bottles, this man was building one inside of his skull; and if Daniel had the fort.i.tude to remain on this perch for some weeks or months, why, he would see the vision in the shipwright's mind take material form. A year hence, men would be sailing around on it! This Daniel found wondrous. He envied the shipwright. Not simply because he was a younger man but because he was being left alone in a quiet place to create something new, and, in sum, seemed, by grace or by craft, to have ensconced himself in a simpler and sweeter Story than the one Daniel was doomed to act out. most, and sat on a bale of Bridewell oak.u.m. It was not a bad place to await the other members of the Clubb. The day was perfect. Later he would be hot, but for the nonce his suit was perfectly matched to the warmth of the sun and the temperate breeze off the river. Before him, three great greased skids declined into the Thames. They had exhausted their burdens-the Tsar's warships-and lay open to new projects. One of Orney's shipwrights stood at the head of the middle way. When he did not move for some minutes, Daniel guessed that something must be wrong. But then the man shifted his weight, c.o.c.ked his head minutely, froze for a few seconds, then hunched his shoulders and let his chin drop almost to his breast-bone. Daniel perceived, then, that the man was thinking. And it was no aimless woolgathering, but a sort of work. As some built ships in bottles, this man was building one inside of his skull; and if Daniel had the fort.i.tude to remain on this perch for some weeks or months, why, he would see the vision in the shipwright's mind take material form. A year hence, men would be sailing around on it! This Daniel found wondrous. He envied the shipwright. Not simply because he was a younger man but because he was being left alone in a quiet place to create something new, and, in sum, seemed, by grace or by craft, to have ensconced himself in a simpler and sweeter Story than the one Daniel was doomed to act out.

So much did he enjoy this interlude on the oak.u.m, that he had to master a distinct flash of annoyance when the tick, tick, tick tick, tick, tick of a certain approaching wagon obtruded. The shipwright-lucky man-was free to ignore it. Daniel must attend. of a certain approaching wagon obtruded. The shipwright-lucky man-was free to ignore it. Daniel must attend.

The wagon was a great rank barrel mounted in a shallow wheeled box. Hunched on a plank bench at the front was a man, manipulating the reins of a single listless nag. He drove the rig down in to the middle of Orney's yard, then leaned back and let his head loll. Members of the Clubb were converging from diverse places round the Establishment where they had been smoking pipes, bowling, chatting, or tending to their very important correspondence.

When Mr. Marsh-for it was he-recovered from his exhaustion sufficiently to open his eyes and have a look round, he found himself surrounded by most of the would-be Prosecutors he had met nine days earlier at the Kit-Cat Clubb. The only one missing was Kikin. But Kikin's bodyguard was there, and so was Saturn. These two squatted down beneath the wagon and went to work with prybars. Another man in his position might have raised objections to having his wagon dismantled while was still sitting on it, but Mr. Marsh seemed past caring. Planks were removed from the vehicle's flat underbelly; Saturn stood and tossed them into the bed of the wagon while the big Russian carefully extracted a smuggled burden from a hidden cavity. This looked, for a moment, like a bale of clothing; but presently it sprouted extremities, and began to stretch, writhe, and complain. The bodyguard stood it upright next to the wagon. The head of Mr. Kikin could now be seen, wigless, hatless, hairless, red-eyed, blinking, and emitting swear-words that would make Cossacks clap their hands over their ears and run home to their mothers. A wig was produced and jammed over Kikin's pate. He was disgorging all manner of stuff from his pockets: paper sc.r.a.ps, pencil stubs, a compa.s.s, a watch.

"I ween we shall now hear a long disquisition from Mr. Kikin," said Mr. Threader. "Once, that is, he has remembered his manners. Let us hear first, and briefly, the report of Mr. Marsh."

"Oh, from that I am here, and alive, you must know that it came off as planned, sirs," said Mr. Marsh.

"You met the mysterious personage in the night-time? You were blindfolded and conveyed to the place where the urine is collected? You emptied your load, and were returned to the lonely crossroads, and were paid, and were sent on your way?" Threader inquired. Marsh answered with a stately procession of nods.

"Very well, then," said Daniel Waterhouse, "as we agreed, the horse is yours, and you are free to go forth and ply your trade. We ask only that you speak of this to no one."

"Right, guv'nor," answered Marsh, with a slight roll of the eyes: his way of pointing out that it would be suicidal for him to relate the story anywhere in Christendom. Then, exhausted though he was, he drove out of Orney's Ship-yard and began putting distance between him and the mad Clubb as fast as his new cart-horse could manage.

Mr. Orney had spread out a large-scale map of Surrey on an open-air table normally used for unfurling ship-plans. Kikin, moving in a stiff tottering gait, brought his paper-sc.r.a.ps and began to arrange them according to some inscrutable scheme while quaffing beer from a sort of earthenware tureen. Breezes discomposed the sc.r.a.ps; rocks were procured. Kikin placed his pocket-compa.s.s on the map. The three Natural Philosophers all noted that Orney-as always, a master of detail-had so oriented the map that its north-arrow was aligned with the compa.s.s's needle.

When Mr. Kikin felt himself capable of human speech, he announced, with no greetings, complaints, or other preliminaries: "We commenced from here here." And he deposited a pebble on a Surrey crossroads not far off the high road from London Bridge. "To the southeast we proceeded, on a good road-"

"You were able to perceive the compa.s.s in the dark, then?" Orney asked.

"The phosphorus paint compounded by Freiherr von Leibniz, and daubed upon its card by Mr. Hoxton, performed as expected. It was right in my face, as bright as a full moon. I say we were going southeast on a good road-almost certainly this this one," insisted Kikin, streaking his finger across the map. "I counted, er..." and here he consulted his notes. "Seventy-eight revolutions of the wheel." For Newton had proposed, and Saturn had constructed, a little device that produced a click every time the wheel went round. one," insisted Kikin, streaking his finger across the map. "I counted, er..." and here he consulted his notes. "Seventy-eight revolutions of the wheel." For Newton had proposed, and Saturn had constructed, a little device that produced a click every time the wheel went round.

"One thousand and thirty feet, then," said Newton, having worked out the product in his head. For all of them knew by heart the circ.u.mference of the wheel in question.

But here Orney had antic.i.p.ated, and prepared: he produced a ribbon of paper, marked with regularly s.p.a.ced pen-lines, each neatly indexed with a number: 50, 100, 200, and so on. It was a scale that he had drawn up, demarcated not in feet, furlongs, or miles, but in revolutions of the wheel of Mr. Marsh's vault-wagon. By snaking it down the road drawn on the map (for the road was not perfectly straight) he was able to show that, at a place near the eighty mark, there was an intersection with a smaller road. "That must be it," Kikin said, and reviewed a spate of Cyrillic notations. "Yes, west-southwest for fifty ticks-then an elbow in the road, bringing us round to almost due south-three hundred and thirty ticks later we went up and over a stone bridge."

This led to some back-tracking and head-scratching, for it was not clear which of several possible roads the wagon might have taken; but presently Leibniz noticed a bridge whose position was found to be consistent with all of Kikin's data, data, and so they went on reckoning from there. and so they went on reckoning from there.

All in all, Kikin had marked down a couple of dozen changes in direction, three bridges, diverse segments of noticeably good or bad road, and the odd hill, village, obstreperous canine, or swampy bit. It became obvious, as they plotted his trajectory as a line of pebbles on the map, that the route was circuitous by design. But eventually it had come to an end in some place described by Kikin as reeking of sal ammoniac sal ammoniac. There the wagon had been emptied. A different winding and looping course had then been traced to bring Mr. Marsh (and his hidden stowaway) back to the starting-place. Getting the outbound and the inbound data data to agree with each other, so that they started and ended in the same places, while not blatantly contradicting the map's a.s.sertions as to the locations of bridges, hills, &c., took twice as long as had been required for the wagon to actually cover the ground, and devolved into a lengthy progress of disputes about applied Euclidean geometry and the nature of absolute s.p.a.ce: arguments that Newton and Leibniz were perhaps a bit too eager to engage in, so that Daniel had to intervene from time to time and ban Metaphysics. The accuracy of Mr. Kikin's observations was called into question; he defended himself with less and less vehemence as the morning wore on, and in early afternoon could be seen dozing on a piled cargo-net. Factions developed, fissures opened within factions, alliances were forged and betrayed, outrage was manifested against the turncoats, who professed dedication only to higher principles of Truth. to agree with each other, so that they started and ended in the same places, while not blatantly contradicting the map's a.s.sertions as to the locations of bridges, hills, &c., took twice as long as had been required for the wagon to actually cover the ground, and devolved into a lengthy progress of disputes about applied Euclidean geometry and the nature of absolute s.p.a.ce: arguments that Newton and Leibniz were perhaps a bit too eager to engage in, so that Daniel had to intervene from time to time and ban Metaphysics. The accuracy of Mr. Kikin's observations was called into question; he defended himself with less and less vehemence as the morning wore on, and in early afternoon could be seen dozing on a piled cargo-net. Factions developed, fissures opened within factions, alliances were forged and betrayed, outrage was manifested against the turncoats, who professed dedication only to higher principles of Truth.

But at some point it all fell into place and they came up with an answer-Daniel's gold ring, set down at a particular location on the map-that was obviously right, and made them wonder why they had not seen it right away. Mr. Kikin, who only minutes earlier had been characterized as an innumerate poltroon, under suspicion of having fallen asleep between observations, was now hailed as the best chap ever; toasted; and likened to Vasco da Gama.

It was Daniel who ruined the celebratory mood by asking the question: "Now what?"

"If the map is to be trusted," said Newton, "Jack's urine-boiling operation is situated on a large estate, high in the North Downs."

"As it would have to be," Orney put in, "or the neighbors would complain of the stink."

"Taking into consideration the size of the estate, the openness of the countryside, and the notorious and vicious character of Jack's gang, I say 'twere foolhardy to approach the place without a company or more of armed men."

"Then it is fortunate that you you are a member of the Clubb, Sir Isaac," Saturn said, "for I have seen you summon up just such a force when you were in need." He was referring to the raid on the boozing-ken in St. Bride's. are a member of the Clubb, Sir Isaac," Saturn said, "for I have seen you summon up just such a force when you were in need." He was referring to the raid on the boozing-ken in St. Bride's.

"The men you saw-and escaped from-on that occasion were Queen's Messengers," Newton said, "though of course they are called King's Messengers as of two weeks ago. They are under the command of Mr. Charles White, who is a loyal minion of Bolingbroke. He aided me then, then, only as part of leading me into a trap. I do not phant'sy Mr. White will be disposed to aid us only as part of leading me into a trap. I do not phant'sy Mr. White will be disposed to aid us now now."

"But the power of Bolingbroke is destroyed," said Kikin, "or so people are saying."

"Not destroyed, sir," Newton corrected him, "as long as his man guards the Mint, and the Pyx."

"Is the Queen's-pardon me, the King's King's Own Black Torrent Guard not garrisoned at the Tower, and charged with guarding the coinage?" Orney inquired. Own Black Torrent Guard not garrisoned at the Tower, and charged with guarding the coinage?" Orney inquired.

"Yes, but they are also also under the command of Charles White," said Newton. under the command of Charles White," said Newton.

"After Jack compromised the Pyx in April," Daniel explained in an aside to Leibniz, "Bolingbroke made hay of it in Parliament, and said that this shewed the Whigs could not be trusted with the Mint. Thus did he gain authority over such matters."

"Which he then delegated to White?"

"Indeed. Now, he is bound to be stripped of that authority when the Hanovers come in and the Whigs take power; but for now he commands both the King's Messengers and the Black Torrent Guards; and he controls the Mint, and the Pyx."

All faces had turned their way. Daniel's sidebar with Leibniz had become the center of attention. Newton, in particular, was gazing into Daniel's eyes, and had an expectant look about him.

"Since the events of a fortnight ago," Daniel volunteered, "tensions between Whig and Tory, Hanover and Jacobite, have ebbed, but not altogether vanished. The troops of the Whig a.s.sociation are still bivouacked all round the capital, ready to be called out in the event Bolingbroke attempts to seize power. Perhaps a company of such troops could be detailed to a.s.sist us in this matter. I shall make inquiries among men who have a say in such matters."

The meeting went on for some little while after that, but in truth Daniel's utterance had been the end of it. Isaac soon thought up a pretext for leaving. Kikin was gone a few minutes after that, and he took Leibniz with him so that they could transact unspecified Tsar-business en route. Threader and Orney were left to bait each other, as was their practice; though neither of them would dream of admitting to it, they had developed a kind of friendship.

Daniel and Saturn shared a water-taxi. Long before it reached London, Saturn had cause to regret this, for Daniel-who had been so content at the beginning of the day, sitting on his bale and watching the river flow by-had now become gloomy and brooding even by Saturnine standards. "Isaac will bring this to a head," Daniel predicted. "Not for him the dodge, the accommodation, the quiet understanding. The armistice we made with Jack in the Black Dogg is forgotten. He must slay the bete noire bete noire. Ha! I wonder what he has in mind for me me."

Saturn had been squinting at some inconsequential thing on the river's bank, hoping that his fellow-pa.s.senger would shut up if ignored long enough. This last remark, however, caused him to turn his head and fix his gaze on Daniel. "Why should he have anything in mind for you?"

"I am all that stands between him and the Solomonic Gold, or so he imagines."

"Is it true?"

"The Tsar, and various of his minions, such as Monsieurs Kohan and Kikin, would have something to say about it, if Isaac confiscated the stuff," Daniel allowed, "but they are far away, and not really part of Newton's world. He will not take such persons into consideration. Me Me he will hate for having done the wrong thing." he will hate for having done the wrong thing."

"What are the practical consequences of being so hated?" Saturn wondered.

Daniel thought of Hooke, and how Hooke's legacy had disappeared. But if that happened after one was dead, did it really matter?

Saturn went on, "He is civil to you when the Clubb is together-"

"And I had wondered why, why, until today," Daniel said. "Isaac no longer has the King's Messengers and the Black Torrent Guard at his disposal. Bolingbroke has stripped him of the temporal power he had, or phant'sied he had, a few months ago. To act against Jack the Coiner, Isaac requires that sort of power-and I have got such power, at least indirectly, through Roger." until today," Daniel said. "Isaac no longer has the King's Messengers and the Black Torrent Guard at his disposal. Bolingbroke has stripped him of the temporal power he had, or phant'sied he had, a few months ago. To act against Jack the Coiner, Isaac requires that sort of power-and I have got such power, at least indirectly, through Roger."

"But why on earth," asked Saturn, "should you consent to any such thing, if you hold it to be the case that Sir Isaac counts you as a foe, and would sweep you out of his way?"

"A perfectly sensible question," said Daniel. "I think it is simple for him, complicated for me, snared as I am in a mare's nest of compromises and accommodations, which to him would seem like one of those hair-b.a.l.l.s we used to pull from cows' bellies-a nasty mess that ought to be swept away. He'll not be satisfied with anything less than the destruction of Bolingbroke, Charles White, Jack Shaftoe, Leibniz, and-if I've been so foolish as to get tangled up with 'em-me. Peter, I cannot summon anything like the fury of Newton, hot as a refiner's fire. Perhaps I and the others really are nothing more than schlock to be raked off the top of his crucible and dumped on the ground to harden and blacken."

Surrey BEFORE DAWN, 15 AUGUST 1714.

And armes shal stand on his parte, and thei shal pollute the Sanctuarie of strength, & shal take away the dailie sacrifice, sacrifice, & they shal set up the abominable desolation. & they shal set up the abominable desolation.-DANIEL 11:31When ye therefore shal se the abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the Prophet, standing in the holie place (let him that readeth consider it). Then let them which be in Iudea, flee into the mountaines. Let him who is on the house top, not come downe to fetch anie thing out of his house. And he that is in the field, let not him returne back to fetch his clothes.-MATTHEW 24:1518 HE HATED TO BE LEADING troops across English soil. Ireland, Belgium, Holland, and France were the natural troops across English soil. Ireland, Belgium, Holland, and France were the natural champs de Mars; champs de Mars; armies roamed across and fed off them like sheep on English downs. But to lead a company of armed troopers across an English field made him reconsider his choice of profession. armies roamed across and fed off them like sheep on English downs. But to lead a company of armed troopers across an English field made him reconsider his choice of profession.

That was, as he knew, confused and stupid thinking, for armies were no more natural and no more welcome in Belgium than they were here; but anyway it was how he felt. As always, he would be keeping those feelings to himself.

They had crossed over to Lambeth on the horse ferry two hours after midnight and marched, or rather walked, south on the Clapham road. The beating tromp of a proper march would be heard for miles across this drowsy landscape, and they did not want alarms to race across the countryside. So they had broken stride, separated into platoons, and made their way southwards, dividing and merging around the odd settlement. Watchmen, insomniacs, and busybodies who came out on to the road to pose troublesome questions, were told to mind their own business, and then asked for directions to Epsom. The strategy was to march faster than Rumor, but if some eager messenger were to get out ahead of them on horseback, they hoped he would spread the lie that they were going generally southwest. Which was just what they did, for some hours; but then, having gathered together in a dell off to the side of the way to eat their rations of biscuit, they executed a sharp change in direction, double-timed four miles eastwards along a road, then took to the fields. Scouts led them up and down gentle slopes that they could feel but not yet see. He thought there was rather more of up, than of down, but then it always felt thus to a tired infantryman. His ears were bad, and so he could not hear the rustling of leaves, but he sensed the presence of trees by their auras of stillness and of scent. These developed into copses that had to be circ.u.mvented, lest in walking through them the soldiers disperse, rustle leaves, and pop branches.

The light sifted down out of the sky like motes and flakes of ash from a burning city. At some point there was suddenly enough of it that he could make sense of the blobs and vestiges that, for the last hour or so, had marred the darkness. He stopped to look round. He had imagined, until now, that they had been marching across open ground, diverting around the occasional wood. But it was not like that. Trees grew more or less densely everywhere, and made it impossible to see more than a stone's throw in any direction, except where a hill rolled up in the distance. Through the mottled shadow of the wood meandered a pale river: a way paved with gra.s.s that was becoming p.r.i.c.kly and tinder-like in the summer heat. This chalky soil was as powerless to retain moisture as the fingers of a skeleton to hold money. It set off a hue and cry in his mind: he had marched a company into a high place where ponds and streams would not exist! In a few hours they would be out of water! He silenced these alarms by means of elaborate thinking and exhausting mental effort; ten paces later they started back up again, and reigned over his mind for an age. The thoughts became dry and worn-out, like straw that has been slept on too many times, and finally disintegrated in the first clear light of the morning.

Like boys who have waded along a creek-bed to the place where it loses itself in river, the troops had come to a broad swale that rolled up from undulating farm-country below-generally to their left-and, to their right, fetched up against the limey b.u.t.tresses of a chalk hill-a down, as they named it in this part of the country. There this convenient highway of dry fescue and sporadic trees was barred by a furry tonsure of beeches that gripped the rougher parts of the down, indeed seemed to cover it all the way to the top-until he peered through spare places in the wood and saw pale, sere meadows on the high side.

The order of battle would have been clear to him at that point, even if he'd been a private soldier with no hand in its planning: there was an estate on the top of this down, hedged on this approach by the beech-belt. Proper visitors would approach it by (he guessed) some sort of carriageway that would come up the gentler slope on its yonder side; he and his company, however, were going to a.s.sault it from its (he hoped) unguarded and unwatched rear by toiling up the wooded chalk-bluff until they could break out of the trees and into the open ground above and beyond.

As he was collecting all of this together in his head, the wee hairs on the back of his neck stirred. He turned and drew this new breeze into his nostrils. It was damp and smelled of the river. It was going to precede them up through the trees.

He spoke now for the first time in hours, and gave the word to begin at once, each platoon holding hands, to use a figure of speech, with those to either side of it, so that they'd not lose one another in the fog, and fragment the line. "What fog, Sergeant?" someone asked, for the air was as clear as snow-melt. But Sergeant Bob only turned his back on this fellow and began stalking up-hill. One measure of soldierly experience, he had found, was how long it took for a man to wot that an engagement had commenced. For Bob Shaftoe, it had commenced the moment this moist breeze had begun its journey up from the Thames, and the battle was now more than half over. For this chap who had just asked him "What fog?" the onset of the battle still lay at some indefinite point in the future. Taken to its extreme, this particular form of military incompetence led to men being surrounded and slaughtered while sleeping, or eating. In less extreme forms it caused excessive casualties. Bob knew of no remedy for it other than to act, which would shock and embarra.s.s laggardly sergeants and corporals to follow him. By the time he reached the verge of the beech-wood, he could feel the moisture clammy on his arms. By the time he led his company out on to the high pasture-land on the lid of the down, it was hushed under a new fog. He had not gone ten paces into this hilltop estate when a dog began to bark. The company had been moving with admirable quiet; but the breeze was at their backs, their scent had preceded them, indeed was now a mile in their van, and the dog knew they were coming.

They were now seven-eighths of the way through this engagement that, in the minds of most of his men, still lay in the future. Bob was not the only one who heard the dog barking: voices up ahead were calling it by name, telling it to shut up. If Bob was lucky, they'd still be lying in their beds cursing the dog at the moment he kicked the door down. But that would have been very lucky indeed. A squall of whinnies and hoofbeats erupted from far ahead, off to their right: Whig a.s.sociation cavalry, which had converged on this place from another quarter. Even Bob's wrecked ears could make out that much, and one of the younger soldiers insisted that he could hear a carriage moving somewhere off to their right. It was too soon for the inhabitants of this farm, estate, or whatever it was, to have gotten a carriage of their own out on to the road, and so Bob supposed this must be some officers or gentlemen come to observe, remark, criticize, countermand, or otherwise improve upon Bob's conduct of the operation.

"Permission is given to be audible," he said, loudly, and loudness spread like panic down the line to his left and to his right. Though because of the fog it was not so much a line as a chopped-up scribble. The drummers began to beat an advance, and sergeants began to scream in outrage as they understood, from that, just how badly spattered over the field they had become. One platoon was far to the rear, and confused, and (what was much worse) unwilling to accept just how badly they'd got it wrong; Bob crossed them off his mental Order of Battle as hors de combat hors de combat. Other platoons seemed to be moving perpendicular to the line of march. And so Bob finally screamed an order that all should simply march toward the barking dog. This worked better than anything else he had tried. It forced them to go up-slope. Word propagated up the line that a wall had been encountered on the right, and Bob ordered them to hold there. Presently the middle, and finally the left, found that wall, and stopped, forming (Bob supposed) an arc a few hundred yards long, curved inwards to face in the general direction of the dog. Its barking had been joined by the blowing of a post horn; shouting; colliding blades; and pistol-shots. The wall was a linear rock-pile, snarled and teeming with hedge-life. Bob vacillated there, for a few moments, until he heard cavalry behind him, and noted that the fog was beginning to dissolve into the light of day. Then he gave the order to clamber over the wall and proceed double-time toward the melee. They would serve better as beaters than as hunters. The hors.e.m.e.n coming round across their rear could round up anyone who dashed through their line.

THE STREETS OF L LONDON, EACH so particular and unique to the terrified, benighted pedestrian, were, to a coach-pa.s.senger, as anonymous and same as waves on the sea. As Waterhouse, Newton, and Leibniz had sailed through them during the early hours of the morning, Daniel had teased himself with the phant'sy that they would settle the Calculus Dispute so particular and unique to the terrified, benighted pedestrian, were, to a coach-pa.s.senger, as anonymous and same as waves on the sea. As Waterhouse, Newton, and Leibniz had sailed through them during the early hours of the morning, Daniel had teased himself with the phant'sy that they would settle the Calculus Dispute now, now, perhaps with Christian reconciliation or perhaps with a roadside duel in the dead of night. But Sir Isaac had made it plain that he had no intention of talking about perhaps with Christian reconciliation or perhaps with a roadside duel in the dead of night. But Sir Isaac had made it plain that he had no intention of talking about anything, anything, and had pretended to sleep, and shifted and glared when Leibniz and Waterhouse disturbed his repose with candle-light and chit-chat. This made perfect sense. Isaac held the upper hand in the dispute, and was going to triumph; why talk to Leibniz at all? Leibniz would have to make Newton and had pretended to sleep, and shifted and glared when Leibniz and Waterhouse disturbed his repose with candle-light and chit-chat. This made perfect sense. Isaac held the upper hand in the dispute, and was going to triumph; why talk to Leibniz at all? Leibniz would have to make Newton want want to talk. to talk.

Daniel neither slept, nor pretended to. As soon as there was light, he dropped the carriage's window-shutters, giving them a pleasant enough view of a tree-lined Surrey carriageway. But this lasted only for a quarter of an hour or so before it dissolved in fog. Leibniz, then Newton, stirred from feigned or genuine sleep. "Do you suppose we are riding to the Clubb's final meeting, then?" Daniel asked, now desperate to get them talking about something something.

"If by that what you are really asking is, 'are we about to catch Jack?' then I should say no," Isaac answered. "This does not seem his sort of place. It looks like the country house of some lord."

"You seem disquieted by that," Leibniz said, "but has it not been obvious from the beginning that Jack must be conniving with men of high rank?"

"Of course," said Isaac, "but I had not expected to drive right through the gate of some Duke's country-house! Where are we?"

"Be at ease," said Daniel, who sat facing forward, and had a view ahead. "We are being hailed by one of Roger's pseudo-Mohawks. He is bidding the driver turn left."

"And what is to the left?"

"A lesser road-not so impressively tree-lined as this. Perhaps it leads away to some humble down-top farm-stead."

But having turned on to that road they immediately drove through a stone gate: clearly not the formal main entrance, but a side door, of some substantial demesne. It seemed to Daniel, as they trundled along the rutted road, that they must be following in the steps of the Whig a.s.sociation Foot, who must all have paused along this stretch to void their bladders. But then he got it. And for once in his life, he got it slightly quicker than Newton or Leibniz. The last few minutes' travel-the roads, the turns, and the odor-tallied with the penultimate leg of Mr. Kikin's journey. They were there-almost. "Driver!" Daniel exclaimed, "tell me-do you see, up ahead, a place where one might turn to the right, and go up-hill a short distance on an old track that is paved in patches with flat stones?"

"No, guv'nor," said the driver. But then they rounded a bend and he saw just what Daniel had described. As did Newton and Leibniz, who by this point had their heads thrust out of windows. "Go that way!" they all began to shout, for all of them recognized this from Mr. Kikin's narration. The driver complied. They were now ascending a knoll.

At its top was a cl.u.s.ter of old Norman-looking farm-buildings, very down at heels. A dog was barking. Hooves sounded behind; it was their minder from the cavalry. "Turn about! You are going the wrong way!" he called.

"We are going the right way!" insisted Newton, Leibniz, and Waterhouse in unison; which set them all to laughing, and sent the dog into a frenzy.