One of his assistants, young Hans Gottman, was leaning from the window watching the departure of the Elector, another was heating over the clear furnace some clay vases sealed with lead.
Vanderlinden caught Hans Gottman by the white apron.
"Fetch me the manuscripts of Rhasis, Alfarabi and Geber," he said. "They are locked in the chest in the still-room."
Young Hans withdrew his head and shoulders from the window.
"You know those sages by heart, master," he replied, half in irony, half in flattery.
"True," replied Vanderlinden, "but there may be something the meaning of which I have not completely understood, and it is very necessary that we start another experiment at once."
"The last cost thirteen thousand thalers," remarked the young man doubtfully.
The alchemist frowned away this unpleasant truth. "Bring me also," he said, "Le livre de la Philosophie Naturelle des Métaux of Bernard Trévisan, and the works of Raymond Lully."
But the young man still lingered; he was more interested in the world about him than in the science of his master.
"Did His Highness come about the marriage?" he asked.