Secretum

had confided the most precious secrets to me and I must therefore be worthy of his trust.

'He will then have also told you,' he added, 'that he himself was deeply in love with Maria, obviously without anything taking place between the two of them, and that when reasons of state constrained the King to marry the Infanta of Spain, she left Paris and came to Rome, where she married the Constable Colonna. In Rome, she and the Abbot continued to frequent one another, seeing as he had arrived there shortly afterwards. And they still correspond. The Abbot has never forgotten her.'

I brought the glass to my lips and drank deeply, seeking to cover my face as much as possible so that my surprise should not be visible. I had succeeded in making Buvat believe that I knew enough about what had taken place behind the scenes in Atto's life, so that he could talk freely with me. I must not let him see that I was learning all this from him for the first time.

So Atto had been in love with Maria, and at the very time when she was courting the young King of France. Now that explained his sighs, thought I to myself, when at the Villa Spada he received that letter from the Connestabilessa!

I recalled then, while ordering another ring cake, a far-off conversation from seventeen years before, at the time when I had made Atto's acquaintance: a conversation between the guests at the inn where I was working. And I remembered how it had then been mentioned that Atto had been the confidant of a niece of Mazarin, with whom the King was madly in love, so much so that he wanted to marry her. Now I knew who that niece of Mazarin's was.

Suddenly, we were interrupted by a scene all too common in establishments like that in which we sat. A quartet of mendicants had entered in order to beg, provoking the wrath of mine host and mute discontent among the other customers. One of the intruders began to exchange insults with a pair of young men seated near us and, within moments, a brawl broke out, so that we were forced to move in order to avoid getting involved. What with the vagabonds, the tavern's customers, the host and his apprentice, there must have been some ten persons involved in the struggle. In the confusion, they fell against our table and nearly knocked over the jug of wine.

Fortunately, once the row had died down and the mendicants had gone on their way, we saw that our jug was still there and we could once more sit down. I heard the master of the house muttering for a long time after that against the flood of beggars unleashed on Rome during Jubilees.

'Ah yes, I too knew that Abbot Melani was very much in love with Maria Mancini,' I lied, in the hope of getting something more out of Buvat.

'So much in love that, the moment she had gone, he went every day to visit her sister Ortensia,' continued Buvat, pouring wine into our glasses. 'So much so that he incurred the wrath of her husband, the Due de La Meilleraye, a bigoted and violent fellow, who sent ruffians to hunt him down and give him a beating, thus causing him to leave France.'

'Ah yes, the Due de La Meilleraye,' I repeated while drinking, again remembering what I had heard years ago from the guests at my inn.

'The Abbot who, it seems, could not do without contact with one of the Mazarinettes, took advantage of the situation to go to Rome and find Maria, with the King's blessing — and a fat payment. But now I think it is time we were on our way,' said Buvat, seeing that we had by now emptied the whole jug of wine. 'Several hours have passed now and the Signor Abbot will be wondering what has become of me,' said he, asking the host for the bill.

Having hired two nags, we rode to the Villa Spada without exchanging another word. I was beset by great somnolence, while

Buvat was suffering from fits of giddiness caused, said he, by the unseemly hour at which the Abbot had got him out of bed. I too realised with surprise that I was exhausted: the events of the day — and the night — before were perhaps beginning to be too much for me. I was no longer the fresh young prentice I had once been. I had barely the strength to take my leave of Buvat with a nod in lieu of salutation, after which I mounted my mule and let myself be borne back to my little house. I already knew that I would still not find Cloridia there. That blessed delivery was still keeping everyone waiting. As I let myself fall back on the bed and slip into drowsiness, I rejoiced at the thought that we would be meeting again that very evening at the Villa Spada, where the arrival was expected of the Princess of Forano in an advanced state of pregnancy. For safety's sake, Cloridia's presence would certainly have been requested. Then I gave in to sleep.

I was awoken in a most disagreeable and, to say the least, unex pected manner. Heavy and hostile forces were shaking me, accompanied by a thunderous, peremptory and insistent voice. Any attempt to return to the immaterial world of dreams and to resist these unwanted calls from the world would have been quite in vain.

'Wake up, wake up, I beg you!'

I opened my eyes, which were at once painfully hurt by the light of the sun. My head was hurting as it had never done in my whole life. My shoulder was being shaken by a servant of the Villa Spada, whom I recognised with difficulty because of the great pain in my head and my difficulty in keeping my eyes open.

'What are you doing here and… how did you get in? 'I asked weakly.

'I came to deliver a note from Abbot Melani and when I got here I found the door open. Are you all right?'

'So so… the door was open?'

'As far as I was concerned, I meant only to knock, believe me,' he replied with the deference which he believed to be my due in my capacity as the addressee of a message from a guest of such distinction as Abbot Melani, 'but then I dared enter in order to make sure that nothing had happened to you. I think that you have been the victim of robbers.'

I looked around me. The room in which I had been sleeping was in the most utter chaos. Clothes, blankets, furniture, shoes, the bedpan, the night pot, Cloridia's obstetrical instruments, even the crucifix which normally hung above the conjugal bed, were scattered all over the place, on the bed, on the floor. A glass lay shattered near the threshold.

'Did you notice nothing on your return home?'

'No, I… I think that all was in order…'

'Then it happened while you were sleeping. But your sleep must have been very heavy… Would you like me to help you tidy up?'

'No, it does not matter. Where is the message?'

As soon as the servant had gone on his way, I tried to overcome the shock by putting a little order in the house. Instead, I only increased my surprise and disquiet. The other rooms too, the kitchen, the pantry, even the cellar, had been violently turned upside down. Someone had entered the house while I was sleeping and had looked everywhere in search of something hidden. All the worse for them, I thought: the only objects of value were buried under a tree and only I and my wife knew where that was. After a good half hour spent putting things back in order, I realised that in fact nothing of any importance was missing. I sat down on the bed, still tormented by my aching head and by fatigue.

Someone had entered my house in broad daylight, I repeated to myself. Had I noticed anything on my return? I could remember nothing. It was then, still half befuddled, that I realised I had not yet read the message sent me by Atto. I opened it and remained all agape:

Buvat drugged and robbed.

Join me at once.

'But it is obvious, you have both been slipped some narcotic,' said Abbot Melani, nervously pacing up and down his apartment at the Villa Spada.

Buvat was seated in a corner with two huge bags under his eyes, apparently incapable even of yawning.

'It is not possible that you should not have heard the thieves when they were turning your whole house upside down,' continued Abbot Melani, turning to me, 'nor is it possible that Buvat should not have been aware of someone lifting his mattress, throwing him to the ground, rummaging through the blankets and finally stripping him of everything, including his money and leaving him half naked. No, all that is not possible without the help of a powerful sleeping draught.'

Buvat nodded timidly, without managing to conceal his feelings of guilt and shame at what had happened. So Buvat, too, on his return from our mission in town, had fallen into a leaden sleep. The Abbot was right: we had been drugged.

'But how did they manage it?' trilled Melani, looking at us.