I have never considered myself a man of action (my favorite action is to go to sleep immediately after taking a good nap). However, the day we recovered the book fallen from the sky, I discovered that if the circumstance required it, I could become, say, one of the three musketeers. In the feat that concerns us, the other two were Péladan and Papus. And our D’Artagnan was the Marquis de Guaita, who, thanks to his rabbit costume, had managed to infiltrate a dungeon in the Elysée palace as soon as the operation began. Having already one of our men infiltrated in the palace, it was only a matter of time before the others met with him. And so it happened shortly after, as one after another we went jumping to the other side of the wall. Once the four of us inside the palace, we only had to get hold of the key of the dungeon, escape without the jailers noticing, and register the palace until we found the credenza that hid the valuable book. My companions did me the honor of entrusting me the difficult task of acting as a bait to attract the jailers. I started hurling the rudest insults that have ever come out of my mouth. That uninterrupted bombardment for hours ended up taking its toll on the morale of our jailers, who pounced on the dungeon key and, while they made me swallow a French Tricolour with the flagpole included, my cellmates could escape without anyone noticing. As they told me themselves when weeks later I left the comatose state, it was not difficult for them to locate the credenza and take the book from the secret panel where Papus had hidden it. The difficult thing was to avoid the bullets that began to whistle around them while they ran through the park where the solemn banquet was held, and to jump the wall in a single bound, all without receiving a single scratch. But, as Papus said, everything is possible with a little luck spiced with a little magic.