An Elegant Solution(85)

“I’ve never seen any arrogance in Master Desiderius. Am I mistaken?”

“I’ll speak no evil of him.”

“Daniel is hoping to win Master Huldrych’s Chair.”

“You know Daniel well enough.”

“I do. I think he’s very full of pride. And I am, too. I try not to be.”

“At least you try, Leonhard. Does Daniel expect to be nominated to the Chair?”

“Oh, of course he does. He’s very sure he will be. And he should be nominated. He’s already famous.”

“We’ll know soon.”

“Everyone says it’ll be weeks before the Election starts.”

“It will be sooner than that,” she said. “Much sooner.” I didn’t question her. I’ve always been surprised at how she knows much more of the University than I’d think she would. I believed that, as I would see the invisible, she would hear the inaudible.



I was prepared on Monday. I came to Mistress Dorothea’s kitchen in brown but as neat and respectably as I could. Mistress Dorothea was solemn and severe and took me upstairs to the door. In a shadow in the hall I saw a darker, paler shadow, and that was Little Johann watching me as I knocked.

“Come,” and I opened the door. “Good morning,” he said, and I could see immediately what hadn’t moved and what had. Two books that had not been on his shelf before were set about on his desk: MacLaurin’s Geometrica Organica and Taylor’s Methodus incrementorum directa et inversa. The papers on the desk were mostly changed. Some few were only moved, but most were new.

“Good morning, sir,” I said. The books on his desk were set atop the papers, I thought, to obscure them. But I could still see a few edges.

“Do you have a drawing from the stonecutter?” On the exposed edges of the papers were equations, and I recognized parts. They were his own experiments with infinite polynomials.

“Yes, sir, I do.” And also, another letter had been moved. It was the formal statement from Paris, of the Reciprocal Square challenge. It was also open on his desk. I held out, from my pocket, the sheet that Lithicus had given me.

“Thank you,” he said, and unfolded it. He studied it briefly. “And a price?”

“He says thirty florins.”

“Reply to him that he’ll be paid a hundred.”

“One hundred?” It was a huge sum.

“And tell him I want an additional line added.”

“Yes, Master?”

He took ink and a quill and wrote on the back, INLUSTRIS MORBO CHRONICO MENTE AD EXTREMUM INTEGRA.

“That.”

“Yes, sir.” I left him there with my mind reeling. It was an extreme surprise to me that my Master Johann should have been reading MacLaurin, and especially Taylor. It was prideful of me to think it, but it seemed the only reason was that he was comparing them to my proof.



I was surprised that Master Johann would have been reading MacLaurin, because the Scotsman was an ardent supporter of Mr. Newton. But this Scotsman had also written on infinite series. I’d read all his books and eagerly awaited the others I expected him to publish. Only four years ago he was awarded a prize by the Paris Academy.

But the spectacle of the Master of Basel with a book by Taylor on his desk would have wagged tongues from Paris to London. They were terrible enemies. When Master Johann answered a challenge raised by Mr. Taylor some ten years ago to integrate a peculiar differential, the Englishman disputed my Master’s solution. The dispute has continued unresolved, even to the point of threats and hostile wagers against each other in their various publications. But the Methodus incrementorum greatly extended the theory of writing differentials as infinite series. It was precisely the book in which to seek an answer to questions that my Reciprocal Squares proof raised.



I felt that I should hurry to find Lithicus, but I was also hesitant. Every mention of Master Johann seemed more fretful to him. Though the new and higher payment might hearten him, I’d want caution and mildness speaking with him.

“You!” a voice spoke from behind me. I turned and it was Daniel, of course. It was another chance encounter in Basel’s streets.

“Me?”

“To the Boot. I’m getting my horse. But you’ll do for now.”

“I’ll do?”

“Though you’re a poor substitute for my Coal.”

“I’ll try my best.”

“You always do, Leonhard, and it’s credit to you. But now, this is why I found you. I’ve a use for you that even a horse can’t match.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“There’s fire and fury back under my Brutus’s roof.”