steaming cups so that each and all could admire clothes, company, rank, and bearing. The more ordinary worthies and the curious came next, mostly just to exchange gossip and partake of the city’s latest sensation. The next group to colonise the coffeehouse Mina could only describe as the intellectuals and intelligentsia-professors and lecturers from Charles University along with some of the more exalted doctoral candidates and students-finishing their day and mingling with the creative class made up of poets, artists, musicians, and other bright young things whose days were just beginning. Lastly came what Mina considered the radicals: dark and furtive men who gathered to give vent to the dangerous ideas percolating in their fanatic and militant souls.
Around the margins of these more distinct groups were others who came and went, floating easily amongst the various tiers and strata, but not wholly part of any one faction or another: certain professional men-physicians and lawyers, for example-who mixed with any of several groups. There were also a variety of minor court officials, among whom Wilhelmina noticed an odd coterie she could not readily identify. They came dressed in vaguely academic garb complete with silly hats-bizarre shapes and unusual fabrics-long stoles, and fur-trimmed hooded gowns. Closer inspection revealed that their robes were invariably threadbare, the furs moth-eaten, the hats soiled, the stoles exhibiting a variety of stains. They kept mainly to themselves, their company exuding an air of benign secrecy. They came late and huddled head-to-head over their cups, speaking in low, earnest voices, often consulting books and scraps of parchment that they brought with them; and though they dressed as impecunious eccentrics, they paid in good new silver.
Intrigued by their mysterious presence, Mina determined to find out who they might be. One evening, after the main group had come and gone, she approached one of the younger men who remained behind, nursing his coffee at the table recently abandoned by his fellows. “Would you like another cup?” asked Mina, brandishing her pewter pot. She liked walking through the room, meeting her customers, and refilling their cups. “No charge,” she said, smiling.
“Please,” said the fellow. He looked a little lost in his big dark robe and squirrel-fur collar. His hat was two sizes too big and sat on his head like a limp rhubarb leaf. “My thanks, good woman.”
“Your friends had to leave,” she observed, raising the pot. She poured and discovered that the vessel was all but empty. The last splosh came out in a gush along with some of the grounds-she had yet to devise a completely satisfactory filtering system. “Oh, I am sorry,” she said. “You’ve got the dregs. Don’t drink that-it will be too bitter. I’ll bring you some more.”
“It is not necessary,” said the young man, but she was already gone.
When she returned with a fresh pot, she found him gazing into the murky liquid at the bottom of his cup. “Here, I brought you a clean cup too,” she said, and made to take the old one from his hand.
“Please,” he said, still clutching the crockery with a tenacity that surprised Mina. “This sediment-this bitter earth…” He indicated the mud awash in the bottom of his cup. “What do you call it?”
“Um…” Wilhelmina thought of the proper German word. “Grounds,” she said with a shrug. “We call them Kaffee grounds.”
“If I may be so bold,” he said, “what do you do with them?”
“Do with them?” She gave him a puzzled look and sat down at the table. “Why do you ask?”
“Believe me when I tell you that I mean neither disrespect nor malice in any conceivable form,” he replied. “Indeed, I not only understand, but commend your instinctive reluctance. You wish to protect this unique and marvellous-some might even say exotic-creation. This I can well understand, as anyone might…”
The young scholar’s articulate yet circuitous mode of expression made Mina smile.
“It is not too much to say that I possess the utmost esteem, reverence even, for your industry and acumen in bringing such an invention to its obvious fruition-”
“It isn’t that,” Mina interrupted. “I merely wondered why you might want my Kaffee grounds.”
“Ah! If you will, allow me to enlighten you, good lady,” replied the young man. “Nothing less than the advancement of the scientific arts compels me to ask.”
“I see,” answered Mina, suppressing a laugh.
Nevertheless, the young man noticed the mirth dancing in her eyes. “I discern full well that you are not wholly convinced of my veracity.” He sniffed a little haughtily. “Even so, if you will indulge me yet a moment longer, I believe I have within my grasp the power to allay your disbelief and assuage any doubts that may still linger in your mind.”
“Do,” said Mina, growing more fascinated by the moment, “by all means, continue.”
“Good lady,” he said, drawing himself up, “you are addressing a member of His Highness Emperor Rudolf ’s court. My name is Gustavus Rosenkreuz, and I am chief assistant to the Lord High Alchemist.” He dipped his head in a courtly bow. “I am at your service, good lady.”
“The men who were with you this evening,” ventured Mina, “are they alchemists too?”
“They are members of what the common rabble of this city, in their vulgar way, have named the Magick Circle, yes,” he answered stiffly. “But not all are alchemists. We have astrologers, physicians, prognosticators, kabbalists, diviners, and other scientists among the members of our eminent fraternity.”
Wilhelmina nodded. “I wouldn’t worry too much about the common rabble,” she said. “You are all more than welcome here.”
“On behalf of the Learned Fellowship, I thank you.” He swirled the dregs in his cup. “And I hasten to assure you, by whatever means you will accept, that my interest in this substance is purely scientific. One of my duties is to determine the properties of various materials and explore their potential usefulness for alchemical purposes. It is work of great consequence to our aims.”
“Oh, yes? That would explain it, I suppose.”
“It has occurred to me that this elixir, this Kaffee, is a most potent and particular concoction. No doubt we are only on the cusp of discovering its manifold uses. Further, the potency of this elixir must derive from the primary body with which you formulate the liquid.”
“That is true,” Mina granted. “You are very perceptive, mein Herr.”
“Seeing that you agree with my basic premise,” Gustavus continued, watching her closely, “it follows that a closer examination of the prime essence would be in order-would you agree?” Mina nodded. “Therefore, I would like to obtain a quantity of this bitter earth with which to perform experiments.” Noticing what he imagined to be a hesitation, he quickly added, “You will be well remunerated, of course.”
“You want to buy my Kaffee grounds?”
“Realizing the value of such a rare commodity, it is only appropriate.” The young alchemist, anxious to secure her agreement, said, “Your cooperation would be a most valuable contribution to the advancement of science and knowledge.”
“Since you put it that way, I don’t see how I can refuse,” she told him. “Would a pound or two be enough to begin?”
The young man, unable to conceal his glee, leapt from his chair, swept off his curious hat, and bowed low. “Good lady, I salute you. When would it be convenient to collect the material?”
“Wait here but a moment, and I will have a package prepared for you at once. You can take it away with you now.”
The alchemist rubbed his hands with eager delight and returned to his seat to finish his coffee while Wilhelmina proceeded to the kitchen to fetch some spent grounds. She returned bearing a fair-size bundle. “Accept these as a gift of the Grand Kaffeehaus,” she said. “Use them, with my blessing, for the advancement of science.”
The young man stared at the package. “Your generosity overwhelms me,” he said, glancing from the bundle to Wilhelmina. He licked his lips.
“Think nothing of it,” she said, adding under her breath, “I think little enough of it myself.”
“The gift will be reckoned, you may rest assured,” he declared. “All at court will hear of your unbounded munificence.”
“Tell them also about Etzel’s fine cakes and pastries,” replied Wilhelmina.
“Indeed, I will,” said Gustavus. He dipped his head again and took up the bundle in both hands. “And now I will wish you a good evening.” He all but bolted for the door.
“Good night,” Mina called after him.
A short while later, when the shutters closed on another day, she told Etzel about the exchange with the young alchemist. “It was good of you to give him the grounds,” he said. “It cost nothing to make him happy. We
