An Elegant Solution(116)

“I understand what Master Gottllieb meant was the danger to Basel.”

“Then you also understand why Magistrate Caiaphas is here and why this Election is important to him.”

“Yes, sir. But . . .” And I wasn’t sure how I was regarding him. “I will do what I must do. Because it is more than just Basel.”

He didn’t understand. He frowned, and I didn’t know if he was disturbed or disappointed. He nodded and we stood, and I left.



At home Grandmother had supper for me. I hadn’t seen her in the morning, or the evening before. We didn’t speak much, but I saw that neither had she slept the night before.



I was so, so tired! Yet I still had more to do. I took my black cloak from its hook in the closet and wrapped it on.

“Is the night cold?” Grandmother asked. She knew it wasn’t.

“No, but I’ll wear it.”

I went out. It was nights like this one when I saw so many things in the streets. Slow, heavy, unshod footsteps were behind every corner. The shadows of strange beasts were ahead of every turn. I wondered, when I was invisible, would invisible things more easily see me? But I didn’t have far to go. I came to my Master’s house, in the back alley. I chose the very darkest place. Then I stood and waited.

I didn’t know how long I’d wait.

I didn’t know how long I did wait.

Finally the back door of the house opened and Master Johann came out with a small, dim candle. He went to the cellar door and opened it, and set the candle on the steps. Then he went back up into the house.

Just a moment later he came out again, with a heavy bag in both hands. I couldn’t see just what size it was. He went down the steps into the cellar and another moment later took the candle in with him and shut the door.

I waited, not long.

The cellar door opened and he came out with just the candle. He closed and locked the door and went back into his house. I heard the bolt on that door turn.

And then, I could finally be done with the day. I went home and to my room and threw myself into the bed.



Water, water. It had not been long since the last rain, but all Basel seemed to be drying out. The fountains were all pinched. The streets were lethargic and filled with dust.

Yet the fountains still brought out their stream, reduced but valiant. I filled my buckets, and as always on Fridays the coach’s preparation for departure was a performance for me to watch. I did watch and I saw no black, cloaked passengers.

I would always hurry through my chores. Time was far too valuable to waste. Yet I paused there in the Barefoot Square for twice or three times the minutes it would usually take to get my water and leave. And finally, with the gray dawn light just at its last edge with morning, I saw a tall young man, black cloaked and crowned with wig and tricorne, slip quietly into the inn.

I lifted my buckets but only carried them as far as the inn’s Common Room window. Then I stood still again. It was dark looking in and I didn’t try. I didn’t want to be seen through the window anyway.

A property of the morning air was that it would often be very still. The Riehen church bell would sound as close as Saint Leonhard’s. The Rhine’s murmuring was like the streets speaking. I waited and finally I heard the voices I knew I would.

“Why will you not come to my room?” which was Magistrate Caiaphas. “This is a poor place to talk.”

“Negotiations must be neutral,” which was Nicolaus. “Not in father’s room, and not in yours.”

“It’s no negotiation. It’s only a message. What is the message?”

“That it’s been done.”

“That’s what I want.”

“Do you have a reply?” Nicolaus asked.

“There’s no reply.”

“There is a second message.”

“What message?” Caiaphas’s voice was suspicious.

“That there be a different choice.”

“What use would that be to me?” He was speaking quietly, but there was no difficulty hearing him. Something was torn with every word. “My reply is, I’ll have the choice I’ve made and the bargain I’ve made, and it’s no matter to me that he detests it. Give him that reply.” It was a challenge, not a refusal.

“There is a third message, then.”

“Then tell me the third message.” Caiaphas was intrigued, and even pleased, as if he’d expected it.

“That it will be to your profit.”

“That’s the message?”

“That’s all of it. There are no other messages.”

“My profit? That’s no matter to him! He’d care more for a gnat than he’d care that I’d profit.”