Some weeks ago Conor Cruise O'Brien detected the fine Italianate hand of Jeffrey Donaldson behind the scenes. In the end it has been the fine Italianate hand of David Trimble which has dominated the election campaign.
The post-dated letter of resignation, to be activated at the end of June in the absence of IRA action on decommissioning, surprised everyone. On a diplomatic mission some 500 years ago Machiavelli reported to his masters: "This lord is very secretive, and I do not believe that what he is going to do is known to anybody but himself. And the chief secretaries have many times asserted to me that he does not tell anything until he orders it, and he orders it when necessity compels and when it is to be done and not otherwise."
Northern Ireland Office officials have to wryly offer the same excuse to their political masters. "Now I know why Mr Trimble was so serene at Hillsborough," one able official muttered.
At Hillsborough in March, Mr Trimble was apparently stitched up as the two sovereign governments accepted that the IRA was going to leave decommissioning until after the election. The implication was clear; Mr Trimble was to be left to face the election with a divided, demoralised party sans decommissioning, while Sinn Fein was to be allowed to maximise its unity at his expense.
Now Mr Trimble, as officials acknowledge, has neatly skewered the two governments. Their strategy, if it could be dignified with that term, was simply a royal road to ruin, placing as it did an intolerable burden on one of the key players, the only one who has actively stood in the way of meltdown of this agreement on the unionist side, and who was already far too exposed within his own party.
But more than that, Mr Trimble has given the two governments the means of benignly resolving their crisis. The British Prime Minister has advertised a resolution of outstanding issues in June; if it happens as advertised, then there will be no need for the First Minister to resign.
Most observers believe Mr Trimble's actions have unified his party and given it a measure of coherence during this election campaign. At any rate, decommissioning is no longer the gaping hole in the UUP's armour it once threatened to be.
It is not that he has taken decommissioning out of the campaign, but he has created the conditions in which the UUP can talk about it with confidence. Where, after all, is the DUP's deadline for action? Why are they hiding behind David Trimble's skirts on this issue?
But it is important to understand something else. This is not a Trimbleista "stroke" designed to win a few more weeks of political life. It is based on a long period of intense reflection and dialogue: probably most important here was the sentiment of leading pro-agreement Catholic and Protestant clergy.
The British government, at least, had good reason to be aware of the message the First Minister was getting in such discussions. Mr Trimble believed it was right to try and create the conditions in which those involved in violence could put the past behind and enter the political scene. It has been a massively difficult task.
It is impossible to underestimate the hatred for the Provos in the Protestant community, including Yes voters. Republicans committed the lion's share of the violence during the Troubles, and there are simply too many wounded families for it to be otherwise.
Mr Trimble is certain that the agreement will suffer from an incurable moral deficit if republicans evade the obligation, which they themselves formally acknowledge, to decommission.
Most important of all for the process of reconciliation, prevarication on this issue - unfortunately acceded to from time to time by the two governments - has underlined the feeling that republicans are engaged in an act of pure self-interested cynicism.
Mr Trimble has been prepared to be flexible about timing. He has jumped twice, first by setting up the Executive in advance of decommissioning; twice he feels he has been let down by the IRA.
But he is absolutely inflexible about the principle. Whatever Sinn Fein's complaints about his action in excluding them from NorthSouth bodies, it is the continued retention of a private army which, in Mr Trimble's view, effectively relegates all other parties to this agreement to the status of second class citizens.
The crown (in this case the position of First Minister) may well be tossed in the air by his resignation, and all manner of surprising hands may reach out for it. There is much speculation about the secret desires of Peter Robinson, who is believed to be behind the recent new-found moderation in the DUP rhetoric.
There is a venerable tradition in the Northern Ireland Office which has always regarded Robinson as "the man who could deliver". This presumes that the Ulster Protestants, like some primitive tribe, will always sacrifice the chief who made the necessary and painful compromises.
And it is basically a lifeboat strategy. As the ship of state sinks they profoundly pray that the lifeboat will not turn out to be a leaky vessel. But there is an equally long tradition in the NIO which points out that Mr Robinson, while undoubtedly an able politician, has always failed every serious test of statesmanship and may not, in fact, be seaworthy.
Devolution will survive Mr Trimble's resignation, as he intends it should, but there is no doubt that an unpredictable epoch of crisis and uncertainty would open up. All eyes could be on the nationalist bloc: will it exert pressure on Sinn Fein?
One hundred and ten years ago Parnell came to Belfast and talked of the need to conciliate the reasonable and even unreasonable sentiments of the unionists. It is one of John Hume's favourite texts. Will the SDLP act in this spirit?
In 1963 Sean Lemass at Tralee acknowledged the strength and legitimacy of unionist sentiment in the North and argued that progress could only be made by dialogue between Irishmen. Will Bertie Ahern act in this spirit? For months now both governments have told us we are close to a resolution of the decommissioning issue. If they let this opportunity slip, how will history judge them?
What happened on the day of the referendum in 1998 is clear enough. Thousands of small-u unionists voted for the first time and voted for the agreement. But the exit polls showed they had a relatively low identification with the UUP, despite its role in bringing it about. In the Assembly elections a few weeks later, the same people stayed at home. Will this key constituency mobilise again?
Devolution is undoubtedly popular, largely because it has tended to work in a sane and pragmatic way rather than through spectacular activism. Few people feel threatened by Stormont: for the majority it has become a stable, tolerable part of the political furniture. But in an election where turn-out will be important, do they care enough to come out for it?
It is said no man is a hero to his valet. In the small, intimate society of Northern Ireland it is exceptionally difficult for a unionist leader to be a hero to his own people. Mr Trimble has provided a moral drama and a sophisticated political strategy for the protection of the core interests of Northern Irish society. But do they get it? We will know the answer to this tomorrow.
Paul Bew is professor of politics at Queen's University Belfast