An Elegant Solution(138)

“What do you know, Leonhard?” he asked.

“I know there are laws that govern this creation.”

“Oh, lunacy!” Daniel said. “You’re Caligula? Nero? Evil and lunatic both.”

“You were lunatic to want the Chair,” Nicolaus said to him, “and lunatic to treat with Caiaphas.” He said it with greater heat than I’d ever heard him use, and he stood over his brother in real anger. “You should thank Leonhard and beg forgiveness that you’re free of it all.”

Daniel’s answer was a deep breath and long silence. Finally he said, “I’m done for this place. I’ll go home.”

“What place?” Nicolaus said. “And what’s home?”

“Basel,” Daniel answered. “And Russia.”



We all left the Inn and never had seen Gustavus. The Square was dark. It was later afternoon and should have been still light. Above, though, the sky that had been empty so long was piled with clouds. Beneath those mountains the Barefoot Church was luminous white.



It was a short, silent, and sharp-edged walk to Master Johann’s house.

I bowed in with them through the front door, and we were awaited. Mistress Dorothea was in the front hall. She stood silent as we five came into the severe dim and stopped. Then she only said, “He’s waiting.” And she nodded to the closed door of the parlor.

I bowed and stepped back, to leave, but she halted me. “Leonhard. You also.”

That was all that was said. Nicolaus opened the door, and his mother a force behind us, we entered.

Master Johann was seated, of course, and we all sat. I would not have, but his look told me I was to. Mistress Dorothea stood sentry at the door. Then we waited.

Master Johann only frowned. He was seated with his legs somewhat apart, as he always sat, and with his hands resting on his breeches. He wore his daily black and white and the same wig he wore on Saturdays. In that room, where the small part of outside light that ever penetrated was a fraction of very little outside light at all, he was bright in comparison to all of us. And when we’d seen that he was the center, and that we were all in his thrall to wait as long as he chose, he did speak.

“I wish to congratulate you, Daniel,” he said.

“Me?” Daniel replied. “On what? Receiving the Physics Chair? Do you know, sir, that I did not? But you would have known. Long before I would.”

“Perhaps, instead,” Gottlieb said, “the congratulation is for something you deserved.”

Daniel would have answered, or anyone might have, but the pause to compose a reply was long enough that the silence settled again and then couldn’t be broken. Master Johann waited until the words had faded, and their echoes had, and then longer until any impression that was not of himself had faded.

“You have won the prize of the Paris Competition.”

No one could answer, for as he spoke, he lifted his hand to his waistcoat and transfixed their attention, and from his inner pocket he withdrew the Paris letter. He stood and crossed the room halfway toward Daniel and stopped.

It was not too large a room, but the letter was beyond Daniels’ reach. He stood and crossed his half, the bridges of Great Basel and Small Basel meeting in the Rhine’s center, and took the letter from his father. And as he did, Master Johann said, “Well done.”

“Thank you.”

These statements both were formal, partly hostile, partly wary. But I saw that Daniel was thrown back by surprise and elation, and as his father had known he would be. And as he was off balance and off guard, Master Johann said, “It will serve you well in Saint Petersburg.”

Daniel from his greater height answered, “I know it will. I have already sent my acceptance, yesterday.”

“Then would you have taken the Chair here if you’d won it?” Gottlieb asked.

“He wanted it in order to resign it,” Nicolaus answered.

“Then that’s what he’s angry at? All his rants at the Inn?”

“When will you leave?” This was Mistress Dorothea, and all her sons and nephew respected her with silence, and Daniel with a respectful answer.

“In two weeks, Mother.”

“I’ll be glad for two weeks, then,” she said.

“And I’ll leave with him,” Nicolaus said.

“You’ll what?” Daniel was surprised at this.

“I’ll see Russia. Send them a letter, brother, that you’ll arrive doubled.”

“I will! You’ll come? To stay?”

“To stay as long I will.”

“I’ll be glad for two weeks with you both,” Mistress Dorothea said. “And for you to have chosen a wise path.”