The Shadows of God - J. Gregory Keyes [59]
A murmur of excitement swept through the room.
The king frowned. “I had already planned a diversion for the court, with Mr. Franklin's help.”
“Begging Your Majesty's pardon. I am fully satisfied to await Your Majesty's pleasure. I am eager to see this demonstration and see no reason why I cannot send Mr. Sterne to our Lord for judgment after the meal and its entertainments.”
“Like you, Mr. Sterne is our guest. I cannot ask him to fight a duel.”
“If he must be compelled, the question of honor is already settled,” Don Pedro said, “and the court will know where to find it.”
“By God, enough of this, you babbling monkey!” Sterne snapped. “I will meet you at any time convenient to His Majesty.”
Philippe looked a bit swept away by things, but the sounds from his court were approving. It must have been a long time since they had blood sport. If they were so keen for a tennis match, this ought to really please them.
“Very well,” Philippe concluded. “After the demonstration, if you gentlemen must conduct your argument, you shall. Take the opportunity during the meal to appoint your seconds. Now, Mr. Franklin, if you would be so kind as to help me with these devices, we shall provide less bloody and more illuminating amusement.”
The experiments went well and drew polite—sometimes even enthusiastic—applause. Using a pair of graduated cylinders, the first demonstration proved that air had weight and pressure. Then, by means of a burning candle in one of the cylinders, they demonstrated that, though its pressure remained, some substance in the air necessary for combustion was used up quite quickly. Finally, they engaged a device Franklin had invented, quite by accident, in Prague. It repelled the substance in the open atmosphere, extinguishing a nearby candle. Courtiers were then invited to approach and discover that the same chemical which fed combustion was also the sustaining fuel for human beings, drawing laughs as they stumbled away, light-headed.
“What we must conclude,” Philippe said, when all was done, “is that we have something like a slow fire burning in each of us. Note that your flesh is warm, and that fever, which increases the ferocity of that fire, can consume and waste us away. Indeed, it might be that such a device as you have just seen might be of use, somehow, in treating fever. Certainly it could be of use in extinguishing the blazes that take too much of our property when necessity—” He smiled. “—American necessity— demands we build our homes of wood.”
More applause, and then the meal. As soon as it was done, Sterne stood. “Your Majesty—”
“Your pardon, Sire,” Don Pedro interrupted. “I notice that people are still discussing your experiments. I don't wish to interrupt the discussion until it is quite done. It would please me if you would judge when our duel should be fought.”
“Very good,” Philippe replied, obviously pleased not to be so quickly upstaged. He then leaned close to Franklin. “Is this some scheme of yours, Mr. Franklin, to rid yourself of an adversary?”
“No, sir,” Franklin lied. “Don Pedro, as you must know, is rather impulsive.”
“Too impulsive, perhaps. I have seen Mr. Sterne at practice. Rarely have I ever seen such skill with the sword. For all of his bravado, I somehow doubt that our Apalachee friend could have received such training in his own kingdom.”
“He is his own man, Sire.” He felt a certain emptiness, though. It hadn't occurred to him that Sterne might be an accomplished swordsman. That would complicate his plan considerably, especially if Don Pedro's own boasts were inflated. Still, the Apalachee claimed to be a master of the Spanish rapier, and Robert—who used the same weapon—tended to agree.
After another hour or so, Philippe raised his hand for attention. “An insult has been given and replied to with a challenge. The matter may be settled now. Gentlemen, have you chosen your seconds?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Sterne said, indicating one of his men. Don Pedro, on the other hand, chose Robert. The Apalachee removed