The trumpeter of Krakow : $b A tale of the fifteenth centuryKelly, Eric P. (Eric Philbrook)
History
The trumpeter of Krakow : $b A tale of the fifteenth century
Kelly, Eric P. (Eric Philbrook)
Middle Ages -- Juvenile fiction; Poland -- History -- Casimir IV, 1447-1492 -- Juvenile fiction
The alchemist, still in the trance, arose, and leaned over the brazier.
Something flaky and white and inflammable was tucked close to the bottom
to act as kindling, and a coal brought from a farther brazier and laid
upon this. It turned all black for a minute, then sizzled into an
intense heat and ignited the brazier’s contents. The flame was at first
yellow and creeping, then it changed to blue and leaping. Kreutz put a
vessel filled with sulphur into the flames, and sure enough in a moment
the spirit of the sulphur arose in fumes that filled the room.
Both leaned over the brazier eagerly as the alchemist shook mercury over
the melted sulphur. As the parchment had decreed, so the reaction
followed; in a short time the glittering mercury had mingled with the
melted sulphur and became an ugly black substance. Tring handed to
Kreutz another vessel which was closed at the top. Kreutz shook the hot
material from the first vessel into the second and put the latter back
on the brazier. In all his motions he acted mechanically as if he were
but working out the will of another. He opened this second vessel after
a few seconds and, sure enough, the black substance was becoming a
lively red.
“The niter; the niter,” exclaimed Tring eagerly at his elbow.
The alchemist took the package from his hands and tossed it into the
substance now seething with heat. As he did so, as if obeying some
unconscious instinct of self-preservation, he leaped back into the
middle of the room and drew Tring with him. The exclamation of anger on
Tring’s lips was cut in half, for at that instant the loft of the house
rocked in a terrific explosion!
“Quick, seize the crystal and descend!” screamed Tring, who was already
speeding through the doorway, frantically wiping sparks of fire from his
clothing.
The exploding substances had sent their flames into the dry roof and
walls of the house, and fire was leaping through them merrily.
Everything in the room was beginning to blaze, and in two minutes more
it would have been impossible to leave. The alchemist, still in a daze,
took the crystal as he had been commanded, and made for the stairway.
The stone gleamed in his hands like a million diamonds, rubies, and
emeralds where the flames fell upon it, and he clutched it with all the
strength of his right hand as he clung to the stair rail with his left,
now swaying out over the court like a drunken man, now regaining his
hold and descending another stair. But the student had been more nimble,
and by the time that the alchemist had descended to the third floor of
the house, Johann was down the stairs and through the gate, calling with
all his might for the watch to notify the water master that the house
above him was in flames. No watch was in sight and so he sought one at
full speed, and while he was searching, Pan Kreutz had reached the open
door and disappeared in the night, the Great Tarnov Crystal hidden under
the folds of his black gown.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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