e organisation of the little world about him, to trace the
operation of its various parts, and to put his hand on the mainspring
about which they revolved; and he wondered whether Gamba, whose
connection with the ducal library must give him some insight into the
affairs of the court, might not prove as instructive a guide through
this labyrinth as through the mazes of the ducal garden.

The Duke's library filled a series of rooms designed in the classical
style of the cinque-cento. On the very threshold Odo was conscious of
leaving behind the trivial activities of the palace, with the fantastic
architecture which seemed their natural setting. Here all was based on a
noble permanence of taste, a convergence of accumulated effort toward a
chosen end; and the door was fittingly surmounted by Seneca's definition
of the wise man's state: "Omnia illi secula ut deo serviunt."

Odo would gladly have lingered among the books which filled the rooms
with an incense-like aroma of old leather. His imagination caressed in
passing the yellowish vellum backs, the worn tooling of Aldine folios,
the heavy silver clasps of ancient chronicles and psalters; but his
first object was to find Gamba and renew the conversation of the
previous day. In this he was disappointed. The only occupant of the
library was the hunchback's friend and protector, the abate Crescenti, a
tall white-haired priest with the roseate gravity and benevolent air of
a donator in some Flemish triptych. The abate, courteously welcoming
Odo, explained that he had despatched his assistant to the Benedictine
monastery to copy certain ancient records of transactions between that
order and the Lords of Valsecca, and added that Gamba, on his return,
should at once be apprised of the cavaliere's wish to see him.

The abate himself had been engaged, when his visitor entered, in
collating manuscripts, but on Odo's begging him to return to his work,
he said with a smile: "I do not suffer from an excess of interruptions,
for the library is the least visited portion of the palace, and I am
glad to welcome any who are disposed to inspect its treasures. I know
not, cavaliere," he added, "if the report of my humble labours has ever
reached you;" and on Odo's affirmative gesture he went on, with the
eagerness of a shy man who gathers assurance from the intelligence of
his listener: "Such researches into the rude and uncivilised past seem
to me as essential to the comprehension of the p