Dark Matter

Newton left off scratching Melchior under the chin and, glancing out of the window, nodded. “Yes. You are right. I am too much indoors. I should dwell more in the light. For although I have not yet much understood the Sun, I sometimes think its rays nourish all living things with an invisible light. I do not doubt how one day that secret light will be revealed as I have revealed the spectrum of colours; and when it is, we shall begin to know everything. Why, perhaps we shall even understand the immanent nature of God.”

Newton stood up and put on his coat and hat.

“But for the moment let us merely hope that we may understand the mind of Mister Scroope.”

We walked to the Strand, and along the way Newton outlined his plan in greater detail:

“Being a gold- and silversmith, Mister Scroope is obliged by law to keep a record of his stock of precious metals,” he explained. “For it is of great importance that the Treasury knows how much gold and silver there is in the country. I shall say that the Mint has the power to inspect Mister Scroope’s books. I shall inform him that I am handling the matter personally, in order that the inconvenience to his business shall be minimised. When I explain that such inspections often take a whole day but that I expect to complete my own within the hour, I believe that he will be more than pleased to co-operate with us. And while he is so diverted with appeasing me, you shall find an opportunity to slip away, perhaps to use the close-stool, and then to examine his library in search of the book by Trithemius.”

“Is any of that true?” I asked.

“About the Mint? Sadly, no. But it ought to be. For much of the time we are making up our powers as we go along. Of course, as a justice of the peace I could easily obtain a specific warrant to inspect his books. But that would look wrong, for we must counterfeit the appearance that our actions are in Scroope’s best interest, and he must apprehend that we are his friends.”

Our walk took us along Thames Street and across the stinking Fleet Bridge with its many fishwives—where I bought threepence worth of oysters for my stand-up breakfast—onto Fleet Street and the Strand. I tried to raise the subject of Miss Barton, but when I mentioned her, Newton swiftly changed the subject and I was left with the feeling that I had done her greater injury than any that was ever done unto my master. That was what I thought. Later on, I formed a different impression of why he was reluctant to discuss his niece with me.

Near enough an hour’s walking brought us unto Mister Scroope’s place of business, close by the Maypole at the junction of Drury Lane. Scroope seemed most discomfited by our arrival on his doorstep, which Newton I think enjoyed, being now most convinced that a man who did not graduate from his university was likely a bad lot; and that this vindicated his own neglect of Mister Scroope when he had been his tutor.

Having heard Newton’s most plausible explanation for our returning to see him again, Scroope ushered us into his office while all the while he grumbled that there was so much regulation for a man of business to take account of these days that he could wish all men who made laws might be ducked in Bedlam’s night soil.

“Everything is regulation and tax. If it’s not windows the Government wants money for, it’s burial or marriage. It’s bad enough that the closing date for the receipt of the old coin at full value is swift to be upon us. But so little new coin is produced.”

“There’s enough being produced,” said Newton. “It’s expected this month will see more than three hundred and thirty thousand pounds’ worth of silver coin newly minted. No sir, the problem is that men hoard the new coin in expectation that its value will rise.”

“That’s an accusation I know well,” lamented Mister Scroope. “I think I understand what it is to be a Jew, for the gold- and silversmiths of this city are most often thought guilty of hoarding. But I ask you, Doctor, how is a man expected to run this kind of business without keeping a certain quantity of gold and silver to smith that which a customer would desire? A man must have findings in this trade, or he has no trade at all.”

Findings were what these goldsmiths called their stock of precious metals.

“Well, sir,” said Newton, “shall we see what findings you do have? And then I promise to leave you in peace, for I like this task no better than you. When I left Cambridge for the Mint, I little thought I should become the money police.”

“This is most inconvenient and aggravating.”

“I came myself, sir,” Newton said stiffly, “because I wished to spare you the trial of being examined by one of these other rascals. But it might be better if you spent a day or two with one of the inspection bailiffs, after all. I daresay you would prefer their careful scrutiny to the blind eye of an old friend and fellow Trinity man.” And so saying, Newton made as if to leave.