The Temple of Vulcan

AN HOUR LATER

“WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM?” asked Roger, slightly more fascinated than aghast. He and Daniel were strolling in Roger’s rose-garden, which was ten times the size of Marlborough’s, though not so well located-Roger’s gardeners couldn’t nip over the fence and borrow a spade from the King of England’s.

“I fear I was a bit too evasive for the Duke’s taste,” Daniel answered, after pondering it for some moments. “I assured him that whatever Newton does, he does very, very well, hence if he is a sorcerer, he must be a right clever one.”

“Oh my lord,” Roger exclaimed, “this cannot have improved the Duke’s mood.”

“I don’t know. I believe I convinced him that Isaac is not a lunatick. That is no bad start.”

“But it is only a start. Hmm.”

“The point of the conversation, Roger, was not to condemn or exonerate Isaac. It was to send you a sort of warning.”

“I am ready.”

“Marlborough has accepted your invitation.”

“Yes, I had the news hours ago.”

“Consequently all the Quality will attend, whether you invite them or no.”

“I have already laid in supplementary help, to cope with party-crashers. Is that the warning? That lots of people will come to my party?” Roger’s attention had begun to wander, and his eyes lit on Daniel’s gold ring. His brow furrowed, his lips parted. Daniel interrupted before he could change the subject to jewelry.

“No. Marlborough is profoundly unhappy about all of the mysteries and controversies surrounding the Mint. He is going to call for a Trial of the Pyx around the time of the Coronation-a couple of months from now, probably-to get all of those coins out of the Pyx, and ensure that all of those minted under George shall be free from any taint. In the meantime, he wishes to see progress made toward the resolution of these Mint troubles. He wishes to feel confident about Newton. If the situation has not begun to improve as of September the first, he’ll not show up for your Party.”

“Oh, horrors!”

“The humiliation shall be exquisite, and conspicuous. All London shall know that you are in disgrace, and shall never be made Lord Treasurer, or even Lord Dogcatcher. The first of September shall, in other words, mark the first day of your retirement.”

After a suitably awe-full pause, and perhaps a few moments’ silent prayer, Roger boomed: “Then let us ready the Volcano!” He revolved about his walking-stick, turning his back on Daniel, and marched through the garden to the main house. It was a fine show of bravado; but Daniel got the sense that Roger did not want Daniel, or anyone else, to see his face for some moments. And so Daniel did not inspect Roger’s phizz too closely, but instead pretended to look at the plumbing of the Volcano.

And of its Maker; for MacDougall had removed one of the curved plates that made up the Volcano’s slopes, and set it aside, and shoved his head deep into the apparatus.

“Your arse-crack is showing, Mr. MacDougall,” Ravenscar shouted, “which I ever take as a sign of hard productive labor, in a man of your profession.”

The arse in question began to shimmy as MacDougall attempted to disengage. There were two thuds and a curse. Then a head, crowned with a torch-flame of embarrassingly red hair, appeared. MacDougall’s hair and cheeks were so red that everything near him looked dusky.

“MacDougall,” Daniel said.

“It is a pleasure to see you, Dr. Waterhouse.”

“Have you obtained the phosphorus yet?” Daniel asked.

“It’s as I told you the other day, sir-I don’t purchase it direct from the maker, but through a sort of go-between.”

“And have you placed your order with this go-between yet?” Roger demanded.

“Oh, yes, my lord. Did it yesterday.”

“Then go back to him and double it!” Roger commanded.

“Oh, I’m not certain they can make so much so fast, my lord!”

“Double it anyway, and if the Eruption of September the first is not the grandest ever, then the fault shall lie with our deficient phosphorus industry, and no man shall be able to claim that the Marquis of Ravenscar stinted or scrimped!”

“My lord, let’s see if they don’t rise to the challenge! I’ve a feeling they just might do it!”

“That is splendid, MacDougall,” Daniel said, “will you please join me at my Clubb to deliver your report in person?”

“Oh, Dr. Waterhouse! I should be honored!”

“Then do you gather your tools together and meet me and my lord in the front of the house when you are ready.”

Roger and Daniel departed the ballroom and circumvented the plashing fountain of Vulcan coming on Minerva’s thigh. “Where is the lovely pair to-day?” Daniel inquired, unable to get his eyes off the goddess.

“I beg your pardon?” asked Roger-a bit distracted himself.

“Catherine Barton, and her Body.”

“Ah. They are out shopping-the Body requires a new dress for the party.”

“Magnificent.”

“Say,” Roger said, “you have quite foxed me. Why are you taking MacDougall to your Clubb?”

“I know MacDougall well. He has proved most invaluable at the Court of Technologickal Arts. Most ingenious.”

“Very well, but what has he to do with your Clubb?”

They left the fountain behind and entered the part of the house that Daniel had designed: the original Temple of Vulcan, as it had been before the improvements of Hooke and Vanbrugh.

“The Infernal Devices used phosphorus,” Daniel said. “Ergo, the chaps who built them must have had dealings with local suppliers. MacDougall is now dealing with them too, thanks to you. This provides the Clubb with a new line of investigation. Mr. Kikin and Mr. Orney are very keen to pursue it.”

“But I thought you had struck a deal with Jack Shaftoe that would obviate the Clubb’s purpose.”

“We have not heard from Jack since he jumped off the back of your phaethon in the Hay Market a week ago, and, according to rumor, became embroiled at the Opera House-”

“Distasteful, that. Impaling Jesuits with ’cellos-not the done thing-I shall have to give him a sharp reprimand if he ever turns up.”

“Well, that is the question, isn’t it? Will Jack turn up? Isaac has already suggested that by jumping off the carriage before the transaction could be consummated, Jack forfeited anything he might have gained in the Black Dogg.”

“Newton has already spoken to me concerning the Black Dogg,” Roger confided. “He now maintains that everything said there, was said under duress-Jack had a sword, you didn’t-and may be considered null and void.”

“What think you, Roger?”

“I think that the Black Dogg deal was perfectly reasonable-if a bit over-generous to Jack-and so I find it disquieting that your Clubb is continuing to pursue him.”

“Because it might queer the deal, and lead to the Duke not showing up for your party, you mean.”

“Yes.” They had reached the anteroom of the Temple, and now stood where they could enjoy the breeze coming in the house’s open front door. They gazed down the steps like two priests of Vulcan taking a break from their sulphuric devotions.

“I cannot control Orney or Kikin,” Daniel pointed out, “and of course to manage Isaac is impossible. You might have to fire him.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Marlborough is right, Roger. A sorcerer has no place at the Mint. It pains me to say for this, for Isaac is an old friend, and he makes good guineas. But he ought to be replaced with some chap who just wants to make coins.”

“That is all well and good, but I do not have the power to fire him.”

“Oh, really? You’re a Regent, aren’t you?”

“As are you, Daniel. Why don’t you fire him?”

“It may come to that.”

MacDougall emerged from the penetralia of the Temple, listing to starboard, as he carried a clanking tool-satchel in that hand. Sensing that the two Regents were embroiled in a State matter, he cringed and scurried out the door and did not check himself until he had dived into Daniel’s hackney out on Great Russell Street and pulled the door shut after him.


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