Lest Darkness Fall Read Online Free PDF

this
theology-mad world.) "That's the nearest thing we have to Nestorianism in
my country. But about the manufacture of brandy —"
     
                "Nothing doing, young
man. Absolutely not. How much equipment would you need to start?"
     
                "Oh, a big copper
kettle and a lot of copper tubing, and a stock of wine for the raw material. It
wouldn't have to be good wine. And I could get started quicker with a couple of
men to help me."
     
                "I'm afraid it's too
much of a gamble. I'm sorry."
     
                "Look here, Thomasus,
if I show you how you can halve the time it takes you to do your accounts,
would you be interested?"
     
                "You mean you're a
mathematical genius or something?"
     
                "No, but I have a
system I can teach your clerks."
     
                Thomasus closed his eyes
like some Levantine Buddha. "Well — if you don't want more than fifty
solidi —"
     
                "All business is a
gamble, you know."
     
                "That's the trouble
with it. But — I'll do it, if your accounting system is as good as you say it
is."
     
                "How about
interest?" asked Padway.
     
                "Three per cent."
     
                Padway was startled. Then he
asked. "Three per cent per what?"
     
                "Per month, of
course."
     
                "Too much."
     
                "Well, what do you
expect?"
     
                "In my country six per
cent per year is considered fairly high."
     
                "You mean you expect me to lend you money at that rate? Ai! Did You hear that, God? Young man,
you ought to go live among the wild Saxons, to teach them something about
piracy. But I like you, so I'll make it twenty-five per year."
     
                "Still too much. I
might consider seven and a half."
     
                "You're being
ridiculous. I wouldn't consider less than twenty for a minute."
     
                "No. Nine per cent,
perhaps."
     
                "I'm not even
interested. Too bad; it would have been nice to do business with you.
Fifteen."
     
                "That's out, Thomasus.
Nine and a half."
     
                "Did You hear that,
God? He wants me to make him a present of my business! Go away, Martinus.
You're wasting your time here. I couldn't possibly come down any more. Twelve
and a half. That's absolutely the bottom."
     
                "Ten."
     
                "Don't you understand
Latin? I said that was the bottom. Good day; I'm glad to have met you."
When Padway got up, the banker sucked his breath through his teeth as though he
had been wounded unto death, and rasped: "Eleven."
     
                "Ten and a half."
     
                "Would you mind showing
your teeth? My word, they are human after all. I thought maybe they were
shark's teeth. Oh, very well. This sentimental generosity of mine will be my
ruin yet. And now let's see that accounting system of yours."
     
    -
     
                An hour later three
chagrined clerks sat in a row and regarded Padway with expressions of,
respectively, wonderment, apprehension, and active hatred. Padway had just
finished doing a simple piece of long division with Arabic numerals at the time
when the three clerks, using Roman numerals, had barely gotten started on the
interminable trial-and-error process that their system required. Padway
translated his answers back into Roman, wrote it out on his tablet, and handed
the tablet to Thomasus.
     
                "There you are,"
he said. "Have one of the boys check it by multiplying the divisor by the
quotient. You might as well call them off their job; they'll be at it all
night."
     
                The middle-aged clerk, the
one with the hostile expression,