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With a young & unexperienced king that can easily be influenced speculations occured as to who might be the chosen one to lead the council. As always, situations as this fire up people's imagination. As a result, it does not seem surprising that names of people keep being mentioned that were long thought to be "gone with the wind" (in other words taking a more or less voluntary break from politics on a remote country estate in the province).

As rats flee the sinking ship, also courtiers in view of a changing government have developed a very efficient strategy in order to save the privileges that had been bestowed onto them under the former government: Change sides and forget you ever knew certain personages or do whatever you can to sustain your own desirable candidates for the offices. Especially Mesdames (and among those the infamous Madame Adelaide) are said to wield enough influence over the young king in order to force their own will and interests on the new conseil des ministres. But the mischievous aunts are not the only ones who could have a hand in this match: The Duc d'Aiguillon, a member of the old government, is thought to have a particular interest in maintaining a more conservative council!

According to some sources, a number of honourable nobles have indeed requested the return of Machault , the comte de d'Arnouville once one of the most influential ministers under Louis XV's reign (Garde des sceaux de France, Contrleur gnral des finances and towards the end of his political career secrtaire d'tat la Marine) had been deposed in 1751 under the influence of the royal mistress la Marquise de Pompadour. The poor old man was obliged to leave Paris for his country estate where he would spend the next decades in solitude forgotten by the world that had once flattered and adored him. What a downfall!

Others call for the return of the Duc de Choiseul , champion of the Franco-Austrian Alliance. Dismissed on the insistance of Du Barry and d'Aiguillon, now there are hopes that the Queen, whose marriage the Duc was heavily involved in instrumenting, may champion his return to office. It is unknown yet to what extent her influence will be over King, only time will tell if she can initiate the return of this exiled minister.

As far as the Abb de Terray is concerned who has meanwhile already left Versailles, it is evident that the floor has become thin below his feet as everyone expects that his dismissal is only a matter of time! Luckily, his chteau on which he has been spending all his money for the last years will be of some comfort in these troublesome times!

For the rest, we are to wait anxiously for the news that are now coming in every day. Most certainly, the return of an "old friend" is more than worrisome news for some older courtiers among us!

As Aubign put it:

"En un petit esquif esperdu, malheureux,
Expos l'horreur de la mer enrage,
Je disputoy' le sort de ma vie engage,
Avecq' les tourbillons des bises outrageux.

Tout accourt ma mort: Orion pluvieux
Creve un deluge epais, et ma barque charge
De flotz avecq' ma vie estoit my submerge,
N'ayant autre secours que mon cry vers les cieux."

~

Mercury Gandt was perusing the fruit stalls on the market square when he heard a familiar voice call his name behind.

"Don Mercurio! What a coincidence!"

He turned to see Fiorino Pera, one of the apprentices he had known on Rocca Sorrentina. The boy seemed genuinely glad to have run into him, and to be honest, Mercury found it refreshing to see a friendly face and hear a congenial word for a change. The Sbirri were starting to get impatient -- it had been a while since he had provided them with any new interesting information. He had been unable to learn more about the cannons that seemed to have some connection to the Conte Foscari, and of course he had no news at all about the Contessa Foscari. To say that the Sbirri agents were greeting him with friendly faces when he met with them was something of an understatement. It crossed his mind that if any of them actually ever smiled, their faces might break.

But here was Fio, of all people: they talked of why the apprentices had come to Venezia and how they fared; they spoke of things back on the island (and Mercury felt a little twinge of regret due to the realization he was unlikely to ever go back to that place); they talked of life in Venezia and what they liked and disliked about the great city. Mercury bought some melon for Fio, and another whole one for him to take back to his fellow apprentices to share with them.

It was, all in all, one of the more pleasant times that Mercy could recall during the last several months. Even so, the more he talked to Fiorino, the more he found himself missing the situations and individuals he had left behind to pursue this adventure in the serene republic.

Ultimately the conversation turned to people they knew. Mercury -- partly out of curiosity and partly in the forlorn hope that he might learn a bit of new and potentially useful information with which he could keep the Sbirri off his back for a little while -- asked if Fio knew anything about the whereabouts of the Contessa Elena Foscari.

Mercury asked the quetion in a very causal way, both to avoid arousing any suspicions by seeming unduly interested, and because he was not really expecting any positive response. To his surprise, Fio replied that although he himself had no knowledge of where she might be, he did know some people who might.

He then asked if Don Mercurio would perhaps like to meet these people.

Mercury found himself agreeing to rendezvous with Fio the next evening, and together, they would make the effort to see if these people could be contacted.

Consequently, the following the night they met at the appointed time. Fio took Mercury though a series of darkened streets and alleys, following a route that Mercury realized would be difficult for him to remember, and also that would be sufficiently complex to shake off anyone who might be following them. He was beginning to wonder about the wisdom of agreeing to do this after Fio took him into a lonely church...and then out a side door and through some passageways and a back lot of a darkened house. Nonetheless, he kept going. Then they came out on a small dingy street that was utterly unfamiliar. They stopped in front of the door of what seemed to be a mouldering tavern. Fiorino bowed, saying, "the people who may be able to help you are within. Now I must attend to another matter, so with your permission, Don Mercurio, I shall leave you to your inquiries."

Without actually waiting for the gentleman's permission to do so, he then turned and disappeared into the darkness before Mercury could react.

Seeing no other option at this point, Mercury tried the door, despite feelinga distinct sense of unease that was mixed in with his hope and curiosity The battered door opend with a creak, and there inside an extremely well-used common room were a few tables and chairs, some stools, and a counter with wine bottles. A shapely female figure sporting a spectucular head of hair was behind the counter, turned and working on something so that Merucry could not see the woman's face. At a table in the corner was the only other occupant of the room: Merucury was intirugued and a little surprised to recognize Achille Giglio, the tavern-keeper from Rocca Sorrentia.

"Buona sera, Don Mercurio," said the tavern-keeper, in a not unfriendly way. "In case you are wondering, you have come to the right place."

Mercury mumbled some greeting and moved closer to the man. As he did so, he heard a gentle sound from behind him. He did not need to turn around to know that woman who had been behind the counter had quietly latched the door. She now moved to stand hear Achille and for the first time, Mercury could see her face. The expression she wore was not at all friendly or sympathetic. And to make matters just a little more problematic, as she stepped into the light where he could see her better, Mercury immediately recognized the face: it belonged to Devi, that damned creature who worked for Elena Foscari.

~

The ship docked in the twilight hour. I have convinced myself that I watched that very vessel pull into port from the window facing the sea, but so many came and went as I sat admiring the landscape, that I cannot be sure. A knock at my door lifted me to my feet and I opened the door to find a young man, dressed in the clothing of a ship's hand, his arm extended with an envelope laying in his hand. I smiled and thanked him, completely unaware of its origin. I returned to the window and used the dwindling light to see from whence the letter came and my heart stopped: "Massachussets," I spoke aloud.

Every fiber of my being shouted out for me to open the letter and see what news was brought from the colonies, but something in me stayed my hand from doing so. I turned, quickly and made haste to the square to see if Signore Stern was anywhere about. I found myself quite often seeking his perspective and well-balanced advice when in La Rocca; he would know what should be done.

I found him standing outside the tavern, and quickly curtsied, showing him the letter in my trembling hand, asking him for his counsel, and he wisely suggested we go to his office to learn what might be detailed within, for it would be best to know, than to suppose. He ushered me into his office and sat silently, at his desk, and the gravity of such a dispatch settled upon me. I knew that no matter the tidings, there would be a great amount of change, yet again, in my every-day life. Finally summoning the courage to slip the sharp opener into the envelope, I sliced across and opened the letter, my eyes seeking out one sentence in particular, and there it was...

"...regret to inform you that the Baron left this earth on....."

We discussed the potential for myself to be sole heir of the Baron's fortune, and the unlikelihood of his being in any real debt and it was suggested that I ask my father's solicitor to see to the matters of the Baron's will. There were so many intricacies to death that I had not imagined. I was very grateful to have Signore Stern to guide me through the landscape.

Time seemed to speed up, suddenly. I was packed and aboard a ship, then back to England in a carriage before my mind could digest what had happened, as the sun peeked over the horizon. I arrived at the manor, and before doing anything else, saw to my black being put in order. I chose an appropriate gown and gathered the servants to tell them the news; the Baron's old servants were visibly upset and I found a duty in consoling them gently, despite our unhappy beginning. So much to see to, even without a body laid out in the parlor, that it was nearly nightfall before I knew it, and after a small meal, I went for my evening walk.

I stretched my neck as I walked, the warm breeze cooling as it blew across the surface of Ardingly Lake, and I finally made it around to my friends, the lions on the fountain, before the sun fully set. I looked up, watching the sky transform from blue to pink and orange and smiled, then looking down into the fountain's base to see my reflection: a pale and travel-weary young woman, dressed in black, wavering as the water's surface was churned from the spigots' endless stream. Beyond the image, a small coin lay alone in the water.

Quite suddenly, I was overcome with emotion. It seemed that I had been a prisoner all of my life; to the honor of my name, to the wishes of my parents, to the expectations of society, or most recently (and thankfully short-lived) a coarse and crude husband. And here I was on the threshold of the cage whose door had just been opened, and like so many kept in captivity I simply stood there, unable to step through.

The warm summer sun, in a final act before acquiescing to the moon, beat down upon the stones, removing all trace of rain. The fading rays peeked through the clouds sending diamonds afloat on the shimmering water of the fountain. My walk brought me here on many nights since I became mistress of the manor, and tonight was no different.

My vision lowered to the floor of the fountain's pool and I wondered that there were no coins there. Had the Baron become so accustomed to his method of acquiring wealth and lands and provision that he had forgotten how to wish? My breath became labored as his image came to mind. Rough hands and rougher manners. Briefly, I imagined him on his sickbed and yearned for news of his demise. I shook my head as if to ward off the mental picture, and refocused.

The lions on the plinth roared silently as an endless stream of liquid poured from their fearsome mouths into the base. I reached into my pocket, and my hand closed around an object. I brought it out into the fading light and smiled at the ducat; or moreso, what it represented: the images of La Rocca, and of my friends so well-met there. I hoped that recent letters sent had reached them in time to urge them come and keep me company.

My teeth grazed my lower lip and I felt a small surge of hope in my breast. Quickly, I dispatched it, and held the coin between index finger and thumb over the fountain whispering so that even the nearby birds could not hear me:

"I would wish for love. I would wish for adventure. I would wish an escape from my current situation. But no . . . none of these shall be mine until fortune bestows on me that which I need and not desire. And so, today, I simply wish...."

I left my fate to fortune as the sun glinted off the coin before it sank into the horizon. End over end over end, and finally, noiselessly, sliced through the surface of the water and gently landed at the bottom of the fountain. A wavering mark of my hope, barely visible, but clearly present.

I turned, walking toward the manor and stopped to pick a bloom, breathing in its sweet perfume and softly murmuring: "I shall be patient."

A Caribean Adventure by Alikasah01 and KianaDumont

Chapter 4

Crossing the Atlantic.

Soon we saw the coast of France only as a fading line at the horizon and as the sun came up to its full strength we were at the ocean.

Immediately we went down to the small Cabin, Captain Clodelle has assigned me.Matisse had an even smaller room, but so he was not forced to join the rest of the crew...the sailors seemed a bit rough.My skin was not used to be exposed to this strong sunlight without any protection. We got set as good as possible under this circumstances. Matisse was cleaning the floor and I tried to make the bunk , which was made of coarse wood, a bit more comfortable. After all was done, we sat down on the little wooden stools in the Cabin and looked clueless at each other and listened to the sounds of the waves and the ship, which seemed to groan and moan.

Unexpectedly someone knocked at the door and without waiting for permition a young sailor entered the cabin. The Captain is awaiting you for Lunch, dont let him wait...he does not like it! With a wide grin he went away.Insolence !I thought, I was not used to such a rude behaviour.

So we went upstairs on Deck than straight up the steps to the aft deck, where the cabin of Captain Clodelle was. I knocked and heared a loud Entrez!. Have a seat Monsieur Brouchet. The boy shall contact the cook in the galley...ordered the Captain. Matisse turned around and left the room . I took a seat. Opposite of me was the first officer Monsieur Vichot. He seemed kind and cultivated, the Captain introduced us and I noded friendly.

I still have problems to write about the food.... I ask for your understanding that I do not want to describe it any further. I guess ... I feel sick! I stammered, as the ship began to roll. I ran outside to the ships railing and feeded the fish. A rough laughter came from the Cabin behind me. In the same style the next days passed. In these days the bible of Claire-Sophie was a huge aid.

Matisse seemed to be used to this Lifestyle, but I feared about his good manners.... I heared him curse godless several times. His hair grew longer and longer and soon he did not look as the good behaved little Moor any longer. It will certainly take a lot of time again for him to unlearn all this. As I noticed on a walk onboard that the sailors taught him to fight with a saber, it was time to intervene. I taught him now every evening two hours in the Catholicism,

he now had to learn Bible verses by heart .

After a few weeks there was a big storm and I spent days seasick in my bunk. The Captain asked every day about my condition, that showed that there was a kind and warm Person behind the rough shell. He did everything to avoid the contact between me and the crew. Noone of them should notice that I am a woman. I was very glad , as he allowed me to lend some of the books of his little library....So the days passed boring and dreary. Matisse was used to his obligations on board and had fun while he climbed the Masts. Every time as I saw it I feard his soon death and was glad he returned safe and sound to the cabin.

One day......in the morning I heard a sailor yell LAND! Land in sight ! Immediately I ran on deck and saw a thin dark line at the horizon. Several Seabirds, later known as Frigatebirds by Monsieur Lacpde, acompanied the ship...... I inhaled relieved..... MARTINIQUE!

Hello everyone,

After a long period of thinking, I have decided to leave the management of Versailles today. My partner Ethelred Brougham will join me in this decision. In a time when I am being called not committed enough to the project of Versailles in SL, I must draw a line. I have always been most devoted to Versailles, even when occasionally assisting my darling partner Ethelred with his own project, the Villa Farnese. Although I do not feel as if I should defend myself, I think I am fair in saying I have always been most committed.. I have always done the event schedule, set up for events, helped you with your roles, managed the gossip group, just to name a few examples. However, when being constantly plotted against, conspired against, insulted, and hated by others, for example because of playing Marie-Antoinette, what am I still doing it for? And especially, if such actions are accepted by certain members of our community through petition, then why do I serve this community, which I hold so close to my heart? Do I wish to be a subject of hatred, and to accept meaningless apologies every few months? Or shall I keep my dignity, and walk away? I choose the latter. Therefore, I feel no longer in a state to further serve the Versailles in SL community, and step down from my position in the management.

It has been fun the long period I have been active as manager, but also stressful, and sometimes has driven me absolutely crazy. Nonetheless, I have put a lot of time, love and patience in this project and gotten a lot of satisfaction back from it. I know I will never be able to entirely to forget Versailles in Second Life, the time I have spent here on the sims, the time I have put into the organization of events, discussing roles, the amazing people I have met here (naturally, most particularly my darling partner, Ethelred Brougham) etc. I have had a pleasure helping you all, have always been more than willing to answer your questions, solve your problems and to make sure everyone was having fun! I can guarantee you I have never wished any of you any harm, my best interests have always been with the Versailles in Second Life project. If I have ever, during my period of management, given you the impression I cherish resentment against you as an individual, then let me reassure you I have no such feelings. I have always come to Second Life not with the intention of being involved in drama, or making enemies. On the contrary, I thought it would be a fun way to meet people from all walks of life, from different countries and from different ages! And I think I succeeded in this, I feel as if my friends list has become full with fun friends! As a manager I had the opportunity to meet and speak with many fun people, often being the first to welcome them into our community! I am sorry there must have been moments where things got heated, but after all, I am only human and my first interests have always been with the project. And let me just assure you one more time, if it up to me we are all friends.

Looking back, we have had some fun times! I had the pleasure of organizing many fun things for you. Take for example the modern rococo event, Marie-Antoinette's toilette, couverts, the themed masquerade balls, the King's birthday, Bastille Day, the Christmas ball, the photography competitions, the Artois wedding, the 18th century quiz, various funerals, weddings and many other fun things. Though, my all time favorite was the Halloween, with the maze, the amazing party and the ghost-bots of Palatine and Pompadour! I had a lot of fun working out some roleplay scenario's for you, some more dramatic than others! Ranging from small court intrigues as affairs, to large murder plots. In my defense, there have actually only been two murders and caused by the same person, but there was a larger storyline behind it that was why it might have appeared these might have been more,! Haha, though I admit I might be slightly homicidal :P I admit, there were large pools of blood for dramatic effect, haha. (and often also rain to add to the atmosphere). There's been so much gossip and scandal I can only remember a small part of it!

I still feel setting up 'Les Nouvelles de la Cour' was one of the best ideas I ever had, even though it unfortunately rained a bit less gossip the past period. Furthermore, I set up and executed the concept of the event schedule, which realized that we have an event every day in the week, which are organized by our own, amazing role-players. Before that, we never had so many fun things to go to! I can tell you, despite the occasional stress sometimes, it has always been great fun, and I enjoyed working with all of you on these things. Since it is not just me as an individual who made this fun, it is the fact we all did it together.

The effect of me resigning from my position as manager of Versailles in Second Life is that I shall no longer represent Versailles in Second Life as a manager, and cannot help you any further with questions regarding the roleplay, events, applications, the management, or anything else related to Versailles in Second Life if I as an individual am not directly involved. Of course, I am always more than willing to chat with you, about whatever! I am of course always willing to share some of the knowledge I have gained over the past years with you, and feel free to come to me if you think I might be able to help you out with something. Even though I am no longer a manager, I will still be here for you! I think it is important that roleplayers share the knowledge they have gained with one another.

I thank everyone for the great times, the support and all the opportunities I have had being a manager at Versailles in SL. I have always considered it a special privilege to have spent a large portion of my second life in the service of our community and in fulfilling the tasks that came with that responsibility.

Friendly greetings,
MarieLouise Harcourt & Ethelred Brougham

I wandered about the manor tonight as a ghost, haunting each room before finally opening the doors to the Baron's private library. My fingers played along the spines of his many books, likely unopened, I mused. I disliked that he was so unlikable, but I disliked myself even more for how very much I wished him ill. It seemed patently unfair to me, that I should end up in such a situation; the prospect of widow or drudge staring me down from wherever the fates might reside.

Letting out a shaky sigh, I turned to leave, when I noticed that the evening sun had created a pool of light upon the Baron's desk. The sun glinted off the glass jar of ink and beckoned me to write... but to whom? And of what? All that I knew and trusted knew of my plight. And yet... within my heart, a single letter remained unwritten.

I moved past the heavy chairs toward the desk, my skirts rustling like dried leaves in autumn as I passed. I lay my hand on the sheet of blank parchment there and it was warm, inviting me to pour my thoughts onto it. I sat, then plucked the quill from its resting spot and dipped the point into the ink, obliging the paper, and began to write.

"Edward:

You will never know the sorrow I endured at your handling my heart as if it were the mere plaything of a child who had grown too old for such frivolous diversions and so casts it off as refuse:

Unneeded, unwanted, unloved.

As I read your letter, above the crashing waves and the shrieks of gulls, above the noise of the marketplace, and cries of the purveyors and footfalls and wagon wheels, I heard my heart softly shatter. And each shard, as it fell, embedded in my very soul. You not only cast me out of your life, but into an abyss of darkness so pitch black and seemingly bottomless that I fell beyond its core, and upon finally hitting ground, found myself in a landscape that surely even the depths of Hell cannot boast. No tree bore leaves or fruit. No water lapped at the cracked and thirsty shore.

And there I resided; exiled by your cruel and off-handed rejection. You may be satisfied that your regard for me, once so highly esteemed, once taken from me, left me there to perish. You may well rebuke yourself for your behavior, for well you know that you did not display friendship to me as your letter proposed.

It matters not, for regardless how long I resided in the darkness, my tears cannot fall forever, although, in truth, they still fall, at times when I am alone, and left to my thoughts. But these more recent tears are not for you, but for myself.

My tears fall for who I once was; for surely you have committed the most unspeakable murder of t he innocent and naive girl who believed your professions of love, and who willingly gave up everything to run away to be with you.

And who is left standing in the shadow of that corpse? I look into my mirror and I do not see your victim, but a young woman who, daily, feels the sharp pains of healing in a still-hopeful heart. Her eyes have lost the glimmer of idealistic fancy, and her heart is now cracked, but not irreparable.

My heart still beats within my breast, and my eyes look outward to the future with the hopes of one who is wary but wiser, and the knowledge that out there, somewhere is someone who will claim this fragile and damaged heart.

Gently placing the quill down, and leaving the balance of the letter unwritten, I blotted the page gently, preserving each neatly penned word. It seemed apropos that I should leave it open and not sign it. I knew that someday I would be able to write a preferable postscript, and one that I would joyously affix my name to.

I sat back, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath before rising and carefully folding the letter into the shape of a heart. I walked to the mantel and held it up before the flames, watching as the glow transfused itself into a deep orange and red upon the paper, and did not shed a tear as I spoke quietly "Goodbye, Edward" before tossing the letter into the flames, watching it curl as it turned to ash.

" I shuddered to think he might come limping back to England after our triumph there, hailed as a hero, and looking to have me tend to him day and night, turned from young woman to drudge. This, I could not bear. I had to set to work so that the wheel of fortune might once again spin in my favor."

See the full post at:

http://oliviachapman.blogspot.com/2013/07/o-fortuna.html

Prospero has never ceased to amaze me. Unlike most apprentices in Rocca Sorrentina, Prospero is not only able in learning his trade as a baker, he seems to be able to converse with all manner of people. He can keep up with Professor Aldo and holds his own when discussing literature and politics; he can help sailors and merchants find what they are looking for when they come into town; he participates in works of assistance and charity with the members of the Confraternity of Mercy. At the same time, Prospero is one of the most lively youths in our circle. Why then was I surprised when he got us to Smugglers Cove and safely aboard a ship departing for the mainland?

"Leave everything to me," he said to Rico and me just before we boarded the ship.

In fact, we could see that the ship's captain and sailors all knew Prospero, and he moved among them with great confidence. He was quickly back with us, telling us just what we had to do to pull our weight and help the sailors weigh anchor and launch into the deep. There were so many sailing words that I only half understood. It did not matter. Rico and I just did everything that Prospero told us to do.

Soon we were sailing away from Pirates Cove and Rocca Sorrentina. The sun rose gloriously over the sea, and we enjoyed the bright colors of the morning sky as it bounced on the waters.

No sooner had we left the sight of land behind us than we sighted the land of the Italian coastline. We rounded the peninsula of Sorrento, keeping wide of the island of Capri, then traversed the Bay of Naples before turning just south of the islands of Ischia and Procida. We came close to the island of Nesida where we had heard that many who were sick with leprosy were brought to live out their days.

This is when Prospero told us to put on our cloaks again. As soon as we did, we realized that the ship was bringing us within sight of the capital city of the Kingdom: Naples. One can imagine that we were becoming excited. I shared with Rico and Prospero what Professor Aldo had told me: that Naples is the greatest port in the Mediterranean and the second largest city of Europe. We saw many other ships moving ahead of and beside us on the way into the port. Add to this the sound of the sea birds, the strength of the morning sea breeze and our quick progress across the waves, and our excitement quickly mounted.

How wonderful! I could not believe how I had suddenly become so anxious to set foot in Naples. Rico was asking a hundred questions, and Prospero was answering them, but I could not speak. My heart was in my throat as we rushed toward land.

A Caribean Adventure by Alikasah01 and KianaDumont/ Letter by Claire-Sophie de Fiennes (Tjay)

Chapter 3

No Way Back

The tall man in the blue Uniform looked around and came straight towards us. He liftet his tricone very elegant and said to me: I asume you must be the noble Lady ,who asked about my ship.... I am Captain Charles Clodelle, enchant! His direct words made me feel a bit embarrassed.....I felt that I blushed. ...Indeed Monsieur, you are right....but...but how did you know ? I stuttered. Ha haha ha....These harbour towns are all similar... he laughed It comes around very quickly , when uncommon travelers arrive.... Uncommon ?? I asked and raised an eyebrow.

In a wide Breton dialect he replied Well, such a fine noble Lady travelling alone, only acompanied by a Moor.....that is quite unusual and will be recognized by everybody! He voluntarily took a seat, pulled out a clay pipe from his pocket, stuffed it with tobacco and lighted it on a candle. Immediately an acrid stench filled the room. Matisse jumped up and fanned fresh air towards me. The Captain seemed to be amused You have certainly never been on sea Madame ? ...Right ?

Oh sure Monsieur.....several times... with a Gondola on the great Bassin in Versailles or in a rowing boat on a pond of the Family Estate...it was quite thrilling I started to giggle. His mouth opened slowely and the clay pipe fell down on the table. He had a hard facial expression and hissed Listen carefully Madame! You have two opportunities: 1. You take your little servant and go back to your Gondolas immediately....or......2. You take my ship to the Caribean the way I tell you now ! The determination with wich he said that, allowed no arguing. Noone had ever tried to speak to me in that way.

But this journey was far too important, so I nodded Daccord, what shall I do to acompany you....? Bien ! he relaxed You will get some male clothing today....not too flashy. You will travel as Monsieur Brouchet. My crew shall not know anything about you. And our little friend here ....-he pointed at Matisse-...will get some common Clothing like a cabin boy.... can he at least peel some potatoes?

Oh mon Dieu, mon petit Matisse never gets dirty!.... But Matisse noded I will try my best Captain! The boy seems at least reasonable... he smiled warmly You will become a real Sailor! Mon petit Matisse.... a Sailor?....I almost fainted, but I pulled myself together and noded aswell. The captain stood up Everyone is allowed with ONE chest! He went towards the exit and turned around The ship will depart at dawn!. Matisse and me stared at each other without any words.....

After our return to the Inn, Matisse disapeared to get the clothes in the town. I received a little parcel from the Innkeper, he got it as our luggage arrived .It contained an old battered Bible and a letter.....

I hold the bible tight and wiped away a little tear....my chere Cousine Claire-Sophie.....

The next Morning at dawn, a certain Monsieur Brouchet and a little black cabin boy were at the Pier with their chests. The captain made a gesture to come on board, I got a dark cabin assigned and heard the yelling of the sailors and even louder the commands of the captain. We went on deck and saw how the wind was blowing into the sails and the ship started to move...

There was no way back !