“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