Dark Matter

“Not long afterward, a second expedition was promoted to search for the rest of the treasure that the first had been obliged to leave behind. Mister Neale invested, I did not, preferring to use the great sum I had made to establish myself in business as a gold and silver smith. I have no skills in working metals. I am no Benvenuto Cellini. I prefer to have others do that work for me. But there are significant profits to be made. And I have been very successful doing it.”

“That much is evident,” said Newton.

“That being said, the second expedition was not successful, and Mister Neale lost some money, for which he blamed me, in part. However Mister Macey and I remained friends.”

At this point Mister Scroope glanced awkwardly at me, as if there was something else he should like to have said, which Newton’s keen eyes quickly detected.

“You may speak freely in front of Mister Ellis,” he said. “He has my total confidence and, as an officer of the Mint, has taken an oath of secrecy. My word upon it.”

Scroope nodded. “Why then,” he said, “to tell it plainly, upon occasion I was in the habit of passing certain information to Mister Macey. Doubtless you will appreciate how, in my business, one hears things about coiners and clippers and other dishonest fellows who undermine the Great Recoinage and, by extension, the prosperity of the realm.”

“That is my greatest concern also,” declared Newton. “Their Lordships at the Treasury have made it very plain to me that we may lose this war against France if we do not put a stop to this heinous practice of coining. That is why I am so diligent in these matters. It is given out by the general population that I do what I do to further my own preferment. But I tell you plain, Mister Scroope, it is because I would not have this country defeated by France and ruled by a Roman Catholic.”

Scroope nodded. “Well, sir, I should be glad to perform the same service for you, Doctor, as I did for Mister Macey, should you so desire. Indeed I should be honoured, for poor Macey and I became quite close confidants as a result.”

“I am grateful to you, sir,” said Newton. “But pray tell me, did Macey ever bring you a letter, written in a foreign language perhaps, that he asked you to translate for him? It is likely he would have been much exercised about its contents.”

“Yes, I think there was such a letter,” admitted Scroope. “And although this was six months ago, I have come to believe that both the time of this visit—which was to be the last time I saw him—and the content of the letter—which, although it was very short, I do remember but inexactly—were connected with his vanishing.”

Scroope appeared to rack his brains for a moment, which made my master leave off prompting him for a closer account of the letter.

“The letter was not addressed to him. That much he told me. And it was written in French. I think it said something like ‘Come at once or my life is forfeit’ Which seemed to interest him a great deal, for I have not yet told you that the letter was discovered by him in the Mint, and I believe George suspected that there was some great plot a foot there to disrupt the Great Recoinage. More than that he did not say. And I did not ask.”

“But did you not think to come forward with this information?” asked Newton.

“For a long while after he disappeared, it was given out that Macey had stolen some guinea dies,” said Scroope. “Therefore I had no wish to draw attention to myself by saying that George had been my friend. Nor could I say very much without revealing myself to have been an informer. My relationship with George Macey was based on many years of trust. But these two men I knew not at all.”

“But you knew Mister Neale,” said Newton. “Could you not have told the Master Worker himself?”

“Doctor Newton, if I may speak frankly with you, Mister Neale and myself are no longer friends. And in truth,I trust Mister Neale not at all. He has too many projections and schemes for one who occupies such a public office. He may have lost his enthusiasm for wrecks and colonies, but he has other, no less hazardous, schemes which may leave him compromised. It is my own information that he is much concerned with arrangements for another lottery using the duties on malt as collateral.”

“That, sir, is my own information, also.” Newton nodded wearily. “But I thank you for your candour.”

“To be candid with one such as yourself, sir, is an honour. And affords me the expectation that we shall meet again, when, if I can, I shall be delighted to be of service.”

Upon our leaving, Newton said something to Scroope’s servant, in a language I did not understand, and for a moment the two men conversed in what I took to be Hebrew; and after this we took our leave of Mister Scroope, for which I was much relieved, thinking him a very pompous fellow.

“An interesting man, this St. Leger Scroope,” said Newton when we were in the coach once more. “Very obviously a rich and successful man, and yet also a secretive one.”