I write in the greatest haste, for I have news which may be of some considerable importance to you. I have ingratiated myself most thoroughly in the servants’ quarters of the Spanish embassy and pride myself that I have learned many secrets. Should I be discovered, my life will be at an end, but the value is such that I must take the risk.

I do not know what is planned with any exactitude, for I pick up only gossip. But servants always know far more than they should, or than their masters suspect, and it is noised here that a great coup is being planned for April against our country. Señor de Gamarra has, it seems, been planning this for some time with men of high rank in England itself, and his scheming is near to fruition. More than this I cannot discover, for there are limits to the knowledge even of chambermaids, but it may be that I will know more later.

I must tell you, sir, that I believe your suspicions of Marco da Cola to be erroneous, for he is a gentleman of the greatest friendliness and I have detected no military aspect to him at all; quite the opposite in fact, heseems made for gayness and amusement, and his generosity (as I can myself attest) is great indeed. A kinder, less secretive, gentleman I have rarely met. Moreover, it appears he is to leave shortly, and in a few days time is to give a farewell feast, with music and dancing, to which he has invited me as his particular guest, so great has been my success at winning his favor. He pays me a great compliment in keeping me by his side, and I am sure you will agree it is the best place for me to be if I am to determine whether or no he means us ill.

I am sorry, sir, that I cannot say more at present; I fear my enquiries will arouse suspicions if I ask too much.

My anger and dismay at this piece of youthful folly knew no bounds, although I did not know whether I was more angry at Matthew for his stupidity, or at this Cola for the way he had so filthily wormed his way into his affections. I had never permitted him such entertainments, for they are both sinful and spoil a child’s education faster than any other mistake in their upbringing. Rather, I had attended to his soul, knowing that, hard though it is because of the natural frivolity of youth, work and the inculcation of duty were both more proper and rewarding. That this Cola should use such tricks to turn him away from righteousness—and, I feared, away from me—caused great anger, as I knew how easy it was to do as well as I knew the difficulty of remaining unyielding when all my desire was to see a smile of pleasure on his face. Unlike Cola, though, I would not buy his affection.

Even more, the way such devices were used to befuddle his senses concerned me, as even at a distance, I could see that Matthew’s assurances about Cola were wrong—I knew already he was coming to England, for Oldenburg had told me so. And the coup being planned was set for just after the time when he would arrive on our shores. It was easy to forge the connection between the two, and I realized that the time I had at my disposal was very much less than I anticipated. I felt as though I was a novice playing a game of chess, and that my opponent’s pieces were slowly moving across the board, setting up an assault which, when it came, would be as irresistible as it was sudden. On every occasion I thought that, if only I had more information, I could make sense of the whole business; but every time that extra intelligence came into my hands, it again proved insufficient. I knew there was some plot, and I knew approximately when it was to take place. But although I knew its agent, I did not know its object or its sponsors.

I may say that I found myself very lonely in my thoughts, for I was being forced to consider great matters, without the advice of others to temper my mind and hone my argument. Ultimately, I decided I would have to present my case to someone else, and thought carefully about whom I might choose. I could not, of course, talk frankly to Mr. Bennet as yet, nor could I countenance an approach to another member of Thurloe’s old intelligencing organization, as their loyalties were entirely suspect. Indeed, I felt entirely alone in a suspicious and dangerous world, for there were few who were not, potentially at least, sympathetic to one side or the other.

Accordingly, I made an approach to Robert Boyle, too abstracted of mind to be concerned with politics, too noble of purpose to be seduced by faction, and a man of the most notorious discretion in all matters. I had, and have still, a high opinion of his ingenuity and piety, although I must say I do not believe his achievement as great as his fame. Yet he was the best possible advocate of the new learning for, faced with his ascetic nature, his cautious endeavor and his profound devotion, it was difficult for any man to accuse our Society of harboring subversive or impious notions. Mr. Boyle (who disguised, I think a certain naïveté under the cloak of gravity) believed that the new science would aid religion, and that the fundamental truths of the Bible would be confirmed by rational means. I felt, in contrast, that this would hand a weapon of unparalleled power to the atheists, since they would soon insist that God submit to the proofs of the scientist, and if He could not be pinned to a theorem, they would say they had proved He did not exist.

Boyle was wrong, but I admit it was with the best of reasons, and this dispute between us never produced a breach in our friendship which, if never warm, was of great duration.

He was of the best family, and had a balanced (though weak) constitution and sound education; all these produced an excellent judgment which was never swayed by considerations of gain. When I discovered him at his sister’s house in London, I asked him to visit and gave him a fine meal of oysters, lamb, partridge and pudding and then persuaded him to treat the conversation in the utmost confidence.