Читать книгу Treasure of the Romarins - Ronda Williams - Страница 11

It was decided that Natalie should smuggle the book she found back to Julien’s house, in order for them to examine it at their leisure. It took some maneuvering to get it past the guard. Angelique flirted shamelessly with him while Natalie sidled past them and out the door with the oversize book stuffed rather awkwardly under her coat. Everyone made it safely outside and breathed a sigh of relief.

“I must say, I feel a little bit guilty stealing this book,” Uncle Julien said. “Still, it’s for a good cause.”

“Just so, Uncle,” Calvin reassured him. “Remember our gypsy credo to guard old knowledge. We didn’t steal it for personal gain.”

“You’re right,” he replied, mollified. “And I promise myself that I will return it as soon as I’m able.”

By the time everyone returned to Julien’s, it was after two in the morning. “Maybe we should save this till the morning,” Calvin suggested. “I’m beat.”

All readily agreed and retreated to their rooms for some much needed rest. Natalie, the one person in the house who was wide awake, brought the Merian book upstairs with her. She sat cross-legged on her bed and opened the book, gazing in fascination at the beautifully detailed engravings. How much work must have gone into these! she pondered, and turned back to the cover page. The volume was printed in 1710. Natalie knew this book was a vital piece of the puzzle for two reasons. First, the engraving on the dedication page of the book was a picture of a woman, presumably Merian, sitting at a desk with a potted plant behind her. Scattered on the desk were various drawings of plants and insects.

What had made Natalie actually decide to take the volume from the library however, was the book on which Merian’s hand was resting. It was almost impossible to see, but Natalie had retrieved her magnifying glass from her satchel and took a closer look at the engraving. Imagine her surprise when she could just discern Maria Sibylla Merian’s hand resting on a copy of Paradise Lost! It was too much of a coincidence. But what was even more telling was the writing under the engraving. It appeared that Merian had scrawled a personal message in her book of prints: To the great Lady, Lucy D, Protector of Paradise.

Natalie closed the book and laid it aside. Merian must have dedicated her book to Lucy Diodati, she mused. And could she be referring to the Garden of Eden of John Milton’s poem, when she calls her the Protector of Paradise? It seemed to make sense. Why else would she have written that cryptic message directly under the engraving in which Paradise Lost is unaccountably depicted? It seemed to imply that at some point, Lucy Diodati was responsible for the poem’s safekeeping.

The next morning dawned unusually warm and full of sunshine. Uncle Julien decided to have breakfast laid out in the rooftop garden. His housekeeper set a fine table laden with biscuits, jam, pots of chocolate and tea, as well as bacon and roasted potatoes. The whole of which would have done Mrs. Murphy proud. Everyone was in good spirits, and enjoyed the morning immensely, surrounded by luxurious tropical plants, with a warm blue sky above.

“Well Natalie,” began Julien, buttering a biscuit, “I’m very anxious to hear what you discovered at the library last night.”

Natalie told everyone about the engraving and the message scrawled beneath it. “If we hadn’t already found that print by Merian, hidden with the letters from John Milton and Lucy Diodati, I wouldn’t have noticed anything unusual, except for the fact that the engraving depicts her resting her hand on Paradise Lost! That in itself is very curious, don’t you think? Wouldn’t it have been more appropriate if she had her hand on a book of botany, or something authored by an naturalist she admired at least?” She passed the book around so everyone could get a look at the the dedication page.

“I see what you mean,” Uncle Julien murmured. “It certainly seems to tie all of our characters together—Milton, Diodati and Merian–and all on one tidy page, too.”

“I wonder how Merian and Diodati knew each other,” Calvin mused. “If this volume by Merian was printed in 1710, and Lucy Diodati supposedly hid the poem in the Bible we’re still looking for, way back in 1651, then Lucy was either very old or very dead by the time Merian wrote this little message to her.”

“It wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility that Merian’s dedication to Lady Lucy D was posthumous,” Julien averred, “but Lucy is a decidedly mysterious character. She’s not in any historical record, as far as I have been able to find, at least.”

Kieran had been scribbling on a piece of paper during the discussion. “I’ve constructed a simple timeline to help us clarify our thoughts,” he said, showing them his list.

Calvin took the paper and read it aloud:

1650? John Milton writes Paradise Lost (the manuscript Natalie and Calvin found) 1651 He instructs the Bodleian to hide the original manuscript 1651 He instructs Lucy Diodati to hide another poem in her uncle’s translation in Paris *1651-1700 Lost years 1710 Merian inscribes message to Lucy D. in her book, “Protector of the Garden”

“So it seems the next logical step is to figure out what happened between 1651 and 1710,” said Finn. “Since Lucy Diodati is so elusive, it seems like we should be tracking down Maria Sibylla Merian.”

“And the Diodati Bible,” added Angelique.

“Well!” Julien said briskly. “We simply must get our hands on that bible.” He glanced at Finn, adding, “I do hope you can stay with us for a bit, Finley?”

“I’m not due back in Amsterdam until next week,” he said. “I’d be glad to assist in any way.”

“Excellent! Well then, let’s head over to l’Arsenal. I am most anxious to locate that Bible,” Uncle Julien declared.

After breakfast, everyone headed down the Boulevard Saint-Germain and crossed the river at Pont de Sully. When they met on the sidewalk in front of l’Arsenal, Calvin suggested they first locate the Bible, then let Julien examine it while the rest of them took a stroll at the nearby Port de Plaisance. “There’s no sense in us all trooping in together, attracting attention,” he asserted. Kieran agreed to stay with Julien and keep him company.

It didn’t take long to find the Diodati Bible, because they already knew it was on loan from the Richelieu Library. The reference librarian personally carried it to Julien, who had claimed a small desk nearby. Kieran sat next to him and looked on eagerly as Julien opened the Bible to the frontispiece and examined a small portrait adorning the first page.

“Say, Giovanni looks quite distinguished,” Kieran noted.

Julien adjusted his glasses and looked more closely at the delicately rendered drawing of a man in a black skullcap. He wore black robes with a rather puritanical white collar. He had a tidy beard and solemn eyes and sat at a table, a book cradled in his hands. “This engraving is by Wenceslas Hollar,” Julien stated. “He lived in England during the Civil War, but had to move to Belgium for a while during the political unrest.”

“What’s that inscription below?” Kieran asked. “It looks like a poem.”

Julien donned a pair of reading glasses and squinted at the tiny print below the portrait.

Reader look well on Diodati more Upon the golden work he stands before Lest in the Scriptures Labryinthe thy minde Should snare and lose it selfe, heer thou mayst finde A Clue that will through each mysterious storie Lead thee from earth up to the throne of Glorie. Wher thy well-guided soul shall once meet his Whoe heer directs thee to eternal bliss.

“A very nice sentiment,” Kieran observed. “That line—A Clue that will through each mysterious storie—is rather intriguing, don’t you think?”“Indeed it is. We have certainly had our share of mysterious clues lately.” Julien turned the pages and examined each page carefully. He came to chapter four of Genesis and caught his breath.

“What is it?” Kieran asked eagerly. “What have you found?”

“Here, look in the margin, right next to Chapter 4, verse 17, where it talks about Cain and Abel.” He slid the book over to his friend. “There are some lines written in ink.”

“I think we should, um, appropriate this Bible for the time being,” Kieran said in an undertone.

“As do I.” Julien looked around furtively. “But I hate to steal another book,” he whispered. “And without our intrepid femme fatales around, I don’t know how to go about it.”

“I have an idea,” Kieran said thoughtfully, and hurriedly whispered his plan to Julien. “But I hope you’re a good actor.”

Julien smiled wickedly. “I played Puck in A Midsummer Night’s Dream at Oxford. I got a standing ovation, in fact!”

As they returned to the reference desk, ostensibly to return the Bible, Julien doubled over suddenly and let out a ghastly groan. He put his hands up to his chest and sank towards the floor, moaning.

“What’s wrong?” Kieran asked, alarmed, reaching for his shoulders to keep him from falling.

The librarian rushed over to assist them. “Is he all right?” she asked, alarmed. “Should I call an ambulance?”

Julien was panting weakly, but managed to reply, “No Madame, no. My pills … the car. This happens at … times.”

“I’ll get them!” Kieran said, urging Julien to a chair by the front door. “Just wait right here!” He sprinted outside to fetch the pills while the librarian hovered solicitously, wringing her hands. In a flash, Kieran was back and handed Julien two small tablets. “I think we should get you to a doctor right away,” he declared.

“Yes,” Julien agreed weakly. “This is my worst attack … oh, I’m such a bother!” He turned to the librarian and managed a feeble smile. “And thank you, dear lady,” Julien said, his voice recovering. “You’re an ornament to this establishment.”

Kieran made a show of helping Julien shuffle slowly to the car. When they were safely inside and driving away, they began laughing, with relief as well as pride that they had pulled off such a stunt.

“I didn’t think I could keep a straight face!” Kieran chuckled. “You really are wicked!” He pulled the heavy tome from his coat and handed it to Julien. “Well, take your ill-gotten Bible, our second theft in as many days.”

“Yes, I’m growing rather too easily accustomed to thievery,” Julien smiled. “Now let’s go and find our young accomplices.”

“They said they were going to stroll along the Port de Plaisance.”

“Ah, yes. Well, you’ve been on my little powerboat, haven’t you?” Julien asked. “We should take a ride down the Seine and examine our find at greater leisure.” They drove down Boulevard Bourdon and parked alongside the quay.

“I see them,” Kieran said, pointing to a small group in the distance, peering over a steel bridge at the boats below.

“Excellent,” Julien said, stowing the Bible in his leather case, “let’s go meet them.” Kieran followed him down the cobbled walk towards the bridge.

A few moments later, a menacing voice behind them said, “You two had better come with me.”

They turned to find a man in a dark suit and sunken, cold eyes staring at them. “Excuse me?” Kieran arched an eyebrow at him. “Who are you?”

“Someone you’d be wise to listen to,” the man replied, opening his jacket to show a pistol strapped to his side.

Kieran and Julian glanced at each other, undecided as to their best course of action. If they ran, the man might shoot; if they went with him, he could shoot them later. Julien’s mind was racing. He had the Bible, but Calvin had the manuscript and Natalie had the print by Merian and the letters from Milton and Lucy Diodati. He had to lead this man away from his family at all costs. He and Kieran were very careful not to so much as glance at the bridge where the group were standing a second ago. Did they see what what was happening down here? Julien could only hope they were able to assess the situation and get themselves to safety.

Julien and his friend locked eyes silently, communicating. Kieran nodded, and they let the man take them back the way they’d come. They were pushed towards a long black car with tinted windows, and Julien couldn’t help but think how cliché such a vehicle was. Were they dealing with the Mafia, or some other organization that borrowed the mob’s style and methods?

“What is it you want?” Julien asked

“You probably have a good idea,” the man answered. “I just hope you’re in a position to provide it, or you could end up like your brother.”

Julien turned red but bit back a reply. Hot anger flowed through him. This could be the very person who killed Richard! Kieran squeezed Julien’s arm furtively and showed him his open palm. Somehow he had written a message on it. It simply said, At car, hit ground!

They were fast approaching the ominous vehicle. There was no way of telling whether there were more individuals inside. When they reached it, Kieran tapped Julien’s arm again, and Julien threw himself to the ground as directed. What happened next was so fast, it took Julien a while to process it. As soon as he hit the pavement, he heard a gunshot, followed by shouting and then more gunshots. Next he heard scuffling and then the sound of someone running away. He saw a man lying on the ground and noticed with immense relief that it wasn’t Kieran, nor was it the man who had taken them to the car. But where was his friend?

Julien got up cautiously and tried to get his bearings. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. He decided he’d better hide until he located everyone else, but where? The boat, of course! He made a dash down the Port de Plaisance. He was glad he kept a little powerboat there and prayed he made it there before anyone found him. He sprinted down the gangplank and climbed aboard. His heart pounded as he unlocked the hatch and climbed down the narrow stairs to the galley. What relief when he saw his niece and Angelique inside!

“Where are Calvin and Finley?” Julien asked, panting.

Natalie looked ready to cry. “They went running after Kieran and one of the men,” she explained, clutching her uncle. “I’m so worried! What if they get hurt? We should do something!”

“Angelique, do you still have your cell phone?” Julien asked. “We have to call the police. There’s no more avoiding it.”

“We already have,” she said. “When we saw you fall, we thought you’d been hurt.”

“You did the right thing,” he replied. “Well, now there’s nothing we can do but wait, I’m afraid.”

Angelique paced the small cabin nervously, peering repeatedly out the port window to see if anyone returned. Natalie sat on a bench, biting her nails and trembling. Uncle Julien tried to comfort her but could hardly contain his own anxiety.

“Oh, no!” Angelique cried suddenly. “The man in the suit! He comes back!”

Julien jumped up and looked out the window. “He seems to know we’re in this boat,” he said ominously. “He’s looking straight at us and heading this way, talking on his phone.”

Natalie sprang to action. “Where are the keys?” she asked. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

He shoved them into her hand, saying, “I’ll untie us. Get the motor started!”

She jumped behind the wheel in the pilot house and turned the key. The engine sprang to life and she quickly guided the boat out of the slip after her uncle had loosed the mooring.

Angelique kept watch behind them. “He’s almost to the bridge!” she cried.

Julien looked ahead, tense. “We may have to abandon the boat at the lock. Sometimes there’s a line to get out.”

Sure enough, there were several boats already waiting at the end of the port. Julien pointed to a spot along the quay. “Dock there,” he instructed. “We’ll have to make a run for it. I think we can make it to the Quai de la Rapée. There’s a metro station there, and maybe we can lose them on the train.”

They quickly jumped out of the boat and threw a rope around a dock hitch. Without losing a second they began running as fast as they could towards the river. Many tourists strolled about, enjoying the fine weather. Finally they were able to cross the Pont Morland and enter the Metro Station on the other side. Julien purchased their tickets and they darted into a waiting train. As they walked down the length of it, trying to catch their breath and hoping it would start moving any second, they scanned outside the windows for any sign of their pursuer.

“I don’t see him. Do you?”Natalie asked her uncle.

“No, thank God. Let’s hope he doesn’t realize we got on.”

They found three empty seats just as the train began to pull out of the station, and Angelique heaved an enormous sigh of relief. “I think we’re safe for the time being,” she said tentatively.

“But what the hell do we do now?” Natalie whispered anxiously. “How are we going to find Calvin and the others?”

“Angelique,” Julien said briskly, “please lend me your phone one last time.” He punched in a number, frowning in concentration as it rang.

“Finley,” he said after a moment, “listen carefully, because I’m going to get rid of this phone after we talk. Meet us at the Île de la Cité, at the Metro Station. Can you get there?”

“Yes,” Finley replied in a tense voice, “we’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Good. If you don’t see us at the station, it means we had to hide, and we’ll be inside Notre Dame,” he added. “And Finley, throw away your phone immediately. We’re being tracked with them, I’m sure of it now.” With that final comment, Julien hung up and set Angelique’s phone on the train floor. He ground his foot into it as hard as possible until it cracked into pieces.

Angelique grimaced, then shrugged. “Well, now you can’t call with all of your impossible requests,” she chuckled.

Julien smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid you’re obliged to remain with us for the time being, cherie, and I’m sorry I’ve gotten you tangled up in this mess.”

“I insisted on coming with you to the library,” she reminded him. “I got myself involved, so don’t you be worrying about me. I’m a big girl.”

Natalie had been gazing out the window miserably. “Why do these people want this poem so badly? If anything happened to my brother, I’ll find who did it, and … and kill them!” she finished harshly.

Julien laid his hand on her arm gently. “Finn said, ‘We’ll be there as soon as possible.’ He didn’t say I. I’m sure that means he’s with Calvin and Kieran.”

Natalie looked at her uncle with renewed hope. Her brother was the most important person in her life. If anything happened to him, she would be utterly lost.

There were several stops on the way to Île de la Cité, the historic island in the middle of the Seine. Each time the train slowed, the three crouched low in their seats and peered furtively out the window. Finally it pulled into Cité station, and they emerged onto the platform and into the ancient heart of Paris.

They exited through the station’s whimsical Art Nouveau gates, searching the crowd for Calvin and their friends. After a few minutes, Julien began to get nervous about being out in the open, and decided it was better to head straight for the cathedral. They walked quickly down Rue de Lutèce, entered the Portal of Saint Anne and stopped, gazing about them in silent wonder.

“I am struck with awe every time I enter this church,” Angelique whispered reverently.

“I always feel a certain peace,” Natalie added, looking around. “This church is truly magical.”

“It certainly is our refuge today,” Julien declared. “We will wait by the statue of Joan of Arc.”

“That must be your favorite thing in the cathedral Uncle,” Natalie remarked. “It seems we always head straight there when we visit Notre Dame.”

Julien eyed her keenly for a moment, and seemed to come to a decision.

“Your brother is also enamored of the Maid of Orleans, but there is another reason I bring you to her so often,” he said enigmatically. “And if no one is milling about her, I will show you.”

They walked down the central nave and turned to the right near the transept. There, in a darkened corner, was the statue. A beam of light shone from seemingly nowhere on her lovely upturned face. She stood with her palms held together in prayer, her eyes to heaven, cradling a flag in the crook of her arm.

“How beautiful she is!” Angelique breathed. “I had forgotten.”

“Our Lady of Paris seems rather ostentatious compared to her,” Julien agreed, referring to the nearby medieval statue of the Virgin and Child that shared the name of the cathedral.

Natalie knelt at the statue and lit a candle, praying for her brother’s safe return. At that instant, she heard his voice directly behind her.

“Since when are you so devout, Nat?”

She jumped up with a cry of joy and threw her arms around her brother. “Thank God you’re all right!” she cried, noticing Finn standing behind him.

“Where’s Kieran?” Julien asked worriedly.

“We lost him,” Finn said in a tight voice. “We better find somewhere safe to figure out what to do.”

Julien knelt at the statue and lit a candle for their missing friend. “It is well that we are alone, as the perfect refuge is right in front of us.”

“Joan of Arc,” Calvin asked, confused.

Julien glanced around furtively before replying. “Finn, will you be kind enough to stand watch? If anyone approaches us, cough or something, and when I call you, return at once.”

“Certainly,” Finn agreed, stepping just out of sight, and leaning casually against a pillar.

“Now,” Julien continued, “take a peek just to the right of Saint Joan and tell me what you see.”

Calvin did as instructed, and examined the area his uncle indicated. “I see nothing particularly interesting Uncle,” he admitted at length.

“Look closely at the wall,” Julien prodded.

Natalie joined her brother and inspected the area carefully. “There’s a little round stamp here,” she said. “It looks like a symbol of some sort.”

“Just so.” Julien pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, and called out tentatively, ”Finn, is anyone coming?”

“No one is about,” came the whispered reply.

“Very good. Come on back,” Julien told him, pointing his keys towards the statue. He pressed the button of what Natalie and Calvin had always thought was his car alarm, just as Finn reappeared.

Suddenly, the seal that Natalie had found receded into the wall for a moment, as if it was a button that had just been pushed. At once, the stone followed it, and in seconds, a small opening, just big enough for a man to come through, appeared behind the base of the statue.

Julien glanced back quickly to be sure they were not observed. “Get in quickly!” he said, nudging Calvin, who was standing next to him, towards the aperture.

He immediately obeyed, and crawled in, followed closely by Angelique, Natalie, Finn, and last of all, his uncle.

“I’m shutting the door,” Julien called from behind him. “It’s going to get very dark, but don’t worry. Just keep going.”

As Calvin crawled deeper into the darkness, he began to sweat. He disliked enclosed spaces intensely, especially cramped, dark, cold ones. He tried desperately to calm himself, knowing a full-blown panic attack was out of the question, especially with Angelique so close behind him. He thought with growing anxiety how mortified he would be if she would see him in such a state, and crawled miserably along. How he wished Natalie, who had no such fears, had gone first!

A moment later however, his fears subsided when he reached the end of the crawlspace and found he was able to stand up in a larger chamber. He sighed with relief and wiped the sweat from his brow hurriedly.

Angelique appeared next to him in the dark and grasped his hand. “Does anyone smoke?” she asked lightly. “A lighter would be very useful right about now.”

Julien emerged from the tunnel and brushed off his trousers. “That isn’t as easy as it used to be,” he said into the blackness. “We will have light momentarily my friends.” They heard sounds of scuffling, followed by a grunt. “Ah, here is the table!” A match was struck, and a small flame blazed to life, followed immediately by six more.

”Voila!” he said triumphantly, holding a silver candelabra aloft.

“Where on earth are we?” Natalie asked.

“Well, it’s quite a story,” Julien said, glancing around. “Take a seat, and I’ll tell you.”

The room was quite bare of furnishings aside from the table and a row of plain wooden chairs that were lining one wall. Everyone took a chair and grouped them in a small circle.

“Before I delve into the mystery of this chamber,” Julien said, “can anyone tell me what happened at the car, after I threw myself to the ground? I know you were a ways off, but did you see anything that might help us find Kieran?”

“It was pretty confusing,” Calvin said, frowning. “We were all standing on the bridge when we first noticed you and Kieran talking to that man. When we saw him push you both the other way towards the car, we started to come after you. After you went down, we saw Kieran attack the man, and we thought you’d been stabbed or something and started to run, but when we heard the gunshots we hesitated. I told Natalie to get to your boat with Angelique and call the police.”

“Then,” Finn cut in, “Calvin and I hid behind another boat and watched as the other person got out of the car. Luckily, Kieran had picked up the fallen man’s gun and started chasing the other man down the quay. They ran towards the Place de la Bastille and we lost them both in the Metro station.”

“I wish Kieran had a cell phone,” Julien said, “but he’s even more old-fashioned than you, Calvin, and despises such things.”

“What about the police?” Angelique asked. “They were on the way when we had to take off in the boat.”

Calvin shook his head. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet, and it’s going to sound crazy and paranoid, but I know I heard correctly.”

“As did I,” Finn said grimly.

“What?” Natalie asked.

“We were in the Metro, searching through the crowds for Kieran, when we passed some policemen. We were going to hail them, but we heard them talking into their radios.”

“We could hear what they were being told, and it wasn’t in our best interests,” Finn said darkly. “Whoever was giving orders to those cops told them to apprehend us, not the men who assaulted Julien and Kieran.”

“You’re kidding!” Natalie cried angrily. “What on earth is going on? We aren’t the criminals here!”

“This whole ordeal is more far–reaching than I suspected,” Julien said somberly. “This elusive threat that follows us must be a powerful and far-reaching entity, and now it seems we can’t even look to the police for protection!”

Calvin nodded, his face set with determination. “We have to protect ourselves.”

“But tell us Julien,” Finn cut in, changing the subject. “What is this place?”