Assuming the manner ofBoccaccio's Buifamalcco, he said that for more than ten years hehad been burdened by an occult secret. A manuscript, entrusted tohim by a certain Colonel Ar-denti, who claimed to be in possessionof the Plan of the Templars... The colonel had been abducted orkilled, and his papers had been taken. Garamond Press had been leftwith a red-herring text, deliberately erroneous, fantastic, evenpuerile, whose sole purpose was to let others know that .thecolonel had seen the Provins message and Ingolf's final notes, thenotes In-golf's murderers were still looking for. But there wasalso a very slim file, containing ten pages only, but those tenpages were the authentic text, the one really found among Ingolf'spapers. They had remained in Belbo's hands.
What a curiousstory¡Xthis was Aglie's reaction¡Xdo tell me more. Belbo told himmore. He told him the whole Plan, just as we had conceived it, asif it were all contained in that remote manuscript. He even toldhim, in an increasingly cautious and confidential tone, that therewas also a policeman, by the name of De Angelis, who had arrived atthe brink of the truth but had come up against the hermetic¡Xnoother way to describe it¡X silence of Belbo himself, keeper ofmankind's greatest secret: a secret that boiled down to the secretof the Map.
Here he paused, in asilence charged with unspoken meaning, like all great pauses. Hisreticence about the final truth guaranteed the truth of itspremises. For those who really believed in a secret tradition, hecalculated, nothing was louder than silence.
"How interesting, howextremely interesting!" Aglie said, taking the snuffbox from hisvest, as if his thoughts were elsewhere. "And... and themap?"
Belbo thought: You oldvoyeur, you're getting aroused; serves you right. With all yourSaint-Germain airs, you're just another petty charlatan living offthe shell game, and then you buy the Brooklyn Bridge from the firstcharlatan who's a bigger charlatan than you are. Now I'll send youon a wild-goose chase looking for maps, so you'll vanish into thebowels of the earth, carried away by the telluric currents, untilyou crack your head against the transoceanic monolith of someCeltic valve.
And, very circumspectly,he replied: "In the manuscript, of course, there was also the map,or, rather, a precise description of the map, of the original. It'ssurprising; you can't imagine how simple the solution is. The mapwas within everyone's grasp, in full view; why, thousands of peoplehave passed it every day, for centuries. And the method oforientation is so elementary that you just have to memorize thepattern and the map can be reproduced on the spot, anywhere. Sosimple and so unexpected... Imagine¡Xthis is just to give you anidea¡Xit's as if the map were inscribed in the Pyramid of Cheops,its elements displayed for everyone to see, and for centuriespeople have read and reread and deciphered the pyramid, seekingother allusions, other calculations, completely overlooking itsincredible, splendid simplicity. A masterpiece of innocence. Andfiendish cunning. The Templars of Provins were wizards."
"You pique my curiosity.Would you allow me to see it?"
"I must confess Idestroyed everything: the ten pages, the map. I was frightened. Youunderstand, don't you?"
"You mean to tell me youdestroyed a document of such importance?..."
"I destroyed it. But, asI said, the revelation was of an absolute simplicity. The map ishere," and Belbo touched his forehead. "For over ten years I'vecarried it with me, for over ten years I've carried the secrethere," and he touched his forehead again, "like an obsession, for Ifear the power that would be mine if I put forth my hand andgrasped the heritage of the Thirty-six Invisibles. Now you realizewhy I persuaded Garamond to publish Isis Unveiled and the Historyof Magic. I'm waiting for the right contact." Then, more and morecarried away by the role he had taken on, and to put Agliedefinitively to the test, he recited, word for word, Arsene Lupin'sardent speech at the conclusion of Z,''Aiguille Creuse: "There aremoments when my power makes my head swim. I am drunk withdominion."
"Come now, dear friend,"Aglie said. "What if you have given excessive credence to thedaydreams of some fanatic? Are you sure the text was authentic? Whydon't you trust my experience in these matters? If you only knewhow many revelations of this sort I've heard in my life, and howmany proved, with my help, to be unfounded. I can boast someexpertise at least¡X modest, perhaps, but precise¡Xin the field ofhistorical cartography. ¡¥¡¥
"Dr. Aglie," Belbo said,"you would be the first to remind me that, once revealed, a mysticsecret is no longer of any use. I have been silent for years; I cango on being silent."
And he was silent. Aglietoo, rogue or not, performed his role in earnest. He had spent hislife amusing himself with impenetrable secrets, so he was quiteconvinced that Belbo's lips would be sealed forever.
At that point Gudruncame in and told Belbo that the Bologna meeting had been set forWednesday at noon. "You can take the morning Intercity," shesaid.
"Delightful train, theIntercity," Aglie said. "But you should reserve a seat, especiallyat this season."
Belbo said that even ifyou boarded at the last moment, you could find something, perhapsin the dining car, where they served breakfast. "I wish you luck,then," Aglie said. "Bologna. Beautiful city, but so hot inJune..."
"I'll be there only twoor three hours. I have to discuss a text on ancient inscriptions.There are problems with the illustrations." Then he fired his biggun: "I haven't had my vacation yet. I'll take it around the summersolstice. I may make up my mind to...You understand me. And I relyon your discretion. I've spoken to you as a friend."
"I can keep silent evenbetter than you. In any case, I thank you, most sincerely, for yourtrust." And Aglie left.
From this encounterBelbo emerged confident: total victory of his astral narrative overthe wretchedness and shame of the sublunar world.
The next day, hereceived a phone call from
