August 9, 1554

Mary Beaton and I were discussing how to catch the desk-rifler. I told Mary how my mother sometimes sends me false letters to give to my uncle Francis de Guise, because he is so nosy about our business. I swore her to absolute secrecy. Mary suggested that I take one of the recent false letters and place it in one of the drawers of the writing desk and see if the person takes it. I protested that surely the person would not take it for it would be noticed immediately. Mary said that of course I was right but that there still must be a way. We thought hard but could not come up with anything. If we could just catch the person doing it. “Perhaps,” I said, “we could put something on the paper that would…” I did not complete my thoughts.

“That’s it,” Mary said. “Remember when we were playing tennis with Doctor Nostradamus and he was telling of the invisible powders?”

“But, Mary,” I protested, “we need something visible. Some unmistakable sign that will leave traces and lead us to the culprit.”

Mary jumped up from the plump cushions she sat on. “We don’t know what this might be, but surely Doctor Nostradamus might. We must consult with him immediately.”

I think she is right about this, although I am not sure if Nostradamus will want to become involved. He serves at the favour of the Queen, not me. But I suppose there is no harm in asking.