Morwena had spent the afternoon down by the shore collecting Clams and Mussels.  She could already imagine how wonderful they would taste with some Leeks and wild garlic.  She could get some on her way home through the forest.

As she looked up, Morwena realised that it was late, and the sun was setting.  It would soon be evening.  If she hurried, she might still see Malcom, when she went through the Village.  He often helped the shopkeepers and stallholders to pack up their wares.

As She got close to the Village, Morwena realised that a small group of Recoat soldiers had stopped for a rest on the path ahead of her.

The Redcoats had been stationed in the Village for some weeks.  So far there had been no trouble, the Soldiers mostly kept to themselves, and the day to day life of the Village hadn’t been affected.

It was to late to turn around.  This was the only path into the Village.  The Soldiers were standing and sitting around on either side of the path.

There was no way to avoid it, Morwena would have to walk through them.    

As she got closer, most of the Soldiers ignored her and continued chatting amongst themselves, but some noticed her and watched her as she walked past them, as quickly as possible without seeming to run, avoiding eye contact and keeping her eyes on the ground before her. 

A few shouted comments, but although she felt uncomfortable, it wasn’t the first time.  Boys always seemed to behave like this when they were gathered in groups.  The local boys were not better when they were all together.  Even Malcom behaved like this when he was with his friends, although when they met and he was by himself, he was always respectful and sweet.

Morwena made her way to the village square but realised that it must be later than she thought.  Church square was already deserted, and the shops and stalls were already shut up for the night.  There was no sign of Malcom.

“Pity” thought Morwena, he could have walked her home. 

As Morwena left the village and entered the forest, she began to feel uneasy.  She forgot about the wild Garlic, and quickly looked around but saw nothing.  Morwena hurried her steps.

It was really getting dark now.  The more she hurried, the more convinced she became that she was being followed.  She could now hear footsteps behind her.  She began to run.

Rough hands grabbed her from behind.  Her basket fell to the ground, and rolled away, spilling the contents.  Another hand went over her mouth.

Morwena tried to scream

Dawn was the best time to send his messenger birds, and the Conte sort of enjoyed watching the dawn break over a sleeping Sorrentina. There was an atmosphere of peace and tranquility that belied the truth.

The Conte had sent one bird to Luca Mancini, his contact in Roma. In his message he asked Luca to make discreet inquiries about Maria Cecilia Antonnacci, and find out if Sior Gandt was in any way responsible for her Delicate condition. Given the sad conclusion of Maria Cecilia's travels, The Conte also wanted to find out if the family would want her remains to be returned and buried in Roma, or if a burial in the cemetery of Sorrentina would satisfy them, and would they want to lay claim to the child, or were they content to let the inhabitants of Sorrentina to organize a good future for this poor little girl. He was sure that Luca wouldn't fail him.

The second bird carried a message to his daughter Elena.

Somewhere, just outside Paris, Elena was taking advantage of the afternoon Siesta time, to read the letter she had received from her father early that morning.

She made herself comfortable on one of the convenient Chaise Longue on the terrace of the Hotel Biron, where she had been visiting for some weeks, settling herself down in the afternoon sunshine and she began to read........

Sorrentina August 4th, year of our Lord 1784,

My dearest Elena,

I am sending this letter by the fastest of our Pigeons, in the hope that it reaches you before you begin your journey south to join me here in Sorrentina.

Please on no account attempt to come to Sorrentina for the moment. You will be unable to come to the island anyway, as it is under strict quarantine due to an outbreak of the Yellow Fever. Do not even come to the bay of Naples, for if there is Yellow fever here in Sorrentina, I fear the mainland is not safe either. So please stay where you are until you hear from me that things are once more safe.

Please do not worry for my health, I am quite well. I must, however , inform you that Devi is amongst those who have fallen ill. She was transported to the Lazaretto after she collapsed with a high fever at the public meeting nearly a week ago. I have no access to the Lazaretto, so I have not been able to see her personally, but am informed by the nursing sisters that for the moment Devi is holding her own.

The same cannot be said of the other young woman who fell ill, a certain Maria Cecilia Antonnacci, supposingly from a Roman, goldsmith family. She arrived in Sorrentina about ten days ago, heavily pregnant, and claiming Sior Gandt as the father of her unborn child. You remember Sior Gandt, I am sure. Sior Gandt denies all knowledge of the young woman, although there are some vague rumours that they met at an Opium party in Roma. Unfortunately we shall probably never know the truth of this affair, as having given birth to a little daughter, and weakened by the birth and the fever, the young woman gave up her soul last night. The child, miraculously has so far survived and if she continues to thrive, many are the inhabitants of Sorrentina who have been so moved by this sad story, that they have offered funds for the education and future of this little Orphan. I myself will set up a small trust in your name for the education of this child.

Meanwhile we must pray for the recovery of our dear Devi.

Your ever loving Father

Fillipe Foscari

Dawn was the best time to send his messenger birds, and the Conte sort of enjoyed watching the dawn break over a sleeping Sorrentina. There was an atmosphere of peace and tranquility that belied the truth.

The Conte had sent one bird to Luca Mancini, his contact in Roma. In his message he asked Luca to make discreet inquiries about Maria Cecilia Antonnacci, and find out if Sior Gandt was in any way responsible for her Delicate condition. Given the sad conclusion of Maria Cecilia's travels, The Conte also wanted to find out if the family would want her remains to be returned and buried in Roma, or if a burial in the cemetery of Sorrentina would satisfy them, and would they want to lay claim to the child, or were they content to let the inhabitants of Sorrentina to organize a good future for this poor little girl. He was sure that Luca wouldn't fail him.

The second bird carried a message to his daughter Elena.

Somewhere, just outside Paris, Elena was taking advantage of the afternoon Siesta time, to read the letter she had received from her father early that morning.

She made herself comfortable on one of the convenient Chaise Longue on the terrace of the Hotel Biron, where she had been visiting for some weeks, settling herself down in the afternoon sunshine and she began to read........

Sorrentina August 4th, year of our Lord 1784,

My dearest Elena,

I am sending this letter by the fastest of our Pigeons, in the hope that it reaches you before you begin your journey south to join me here in Sorrentina.

Please on no account attempt to come to Sorrentina for the moment. You will be unable to come to the island anyway, as it is under strict quarantine due to an outbreak of the Yellow Fever. Do not even come to the bay of Naples, for if there is Yellow fever here in Sorrentina, I fear the mainland is not safe either. So please stay where you are until you hear from me that things are once more safe.

Please do not worry for my health, I am quite well. I must, however , inform you that Devi is amongst those who have fallen ill. She was transported to the Lazaretto after she collapsed with a high fever at the public meeting nearly a week ago. I have no access to the Lazaretto, so I have not been able to see her personally, but am informed by the nursing sisters that for the moment Devi is holding her own.

The same cannot be said of the other young woman who fell ill, a certain Maria Cecilia Antonnacci, supposingly from a Roman, goldsmith family. She arrived in Sorrentina about ten days ago, heavily pregnant, and claiming Sior Gandt as the father of her unborn child. You remember Sior Gandt, I am sure. Sior Gandt denies all knowledge of the young woman, although there are some vague rumours that they met at an Opium party in Roma. Unfortunately we shall probably never know the truth of this affair, as having given birth to a little daughter, and weakened by the birth and the fever, the young woman gave up her soul last night. The child, miraculously has so far survived and if she continues to thrive, many are the inhabitants of Sorrentina who have been so moved by this sad story, that they have offered funds for the education and future of this little Orphan. I myself will set up a small trust in your name for the education of this child.

Meanwhile we must pray for the recovery of our dear Devi.

Your ever loving Father

Fillipe Foscari

Having listened in on the conversation between that scoundrel Sior Gandt and the young woman recently arrived on the boat from Naples. Having watched the young woman hurry away towards the Piazza, Devi waited until Sior Gandt had gone into the Taverna, before she hurried after the young Woman.

She found her quickly enough sitting on the stone bench crying.

Signorina, can I speak to you?

Maria Cecilia tries to dry her eyes, looks up and nods a silent hello.

As you wish.

I could not help but overhear your conversation with Sior Gandt.

Oh splendid. someone else to mock me and my circumstances. Very well Signorina, mouth your pious platitudes and then be on your way.

Ohhh no Signorina, you misunderstand me. I want to help you.

I have had enough of people who want to help, grazie. Maria Cecilia replies bitterly. Help, no help it is all the same. Maria Cecilia begins to cough.

I know Sior Gandt as the scoundrel he is. You should not let him get away with this! Are you ill Signorina? Devi asks with concern.

If by ill, you mean with child and nearly ready to deliver, then yes I suppose I am unwell.

Unfortunatelly I cannot help you with that problem, you are too advanced. It is to late for a herbal remedy.

That is not a solution I would have wanted anyway. Maria Cecilia looks shocked. So how do you intend to help? Sell me to a Barbary flesh trader perhaps? Install me as yet another mistress of the Beggar King?

Don't be silly! But you could talk to some people who might force Sir Gandt to do right by you. My "Padrino" is the Conte of Foscari, and he may be able to help you, and he has some influence over Sior Gandt. You should talk to him.

Maria Cecilia remains silent, so Devi continues. But do you really want to marry Sior Gandt? after his treatment of you.

Maria Cecilia shakes her head sadly. Having seen more of what the man truly is...no!

he held more appeal when he was under the influence of the wine and drugs, or perhaps it was that I was under the influence as well and my perceptions were skewed.

He probably drugged you, in order to take advantage of you. He should be made to pay!

Maria Cecilia waves her hand. it was not like that. I am at fault as well.

Devi continues her tirade. So another solution must be found. what would you wish for if you had choices? Devi casually brushes a Mosquito from her hand.

What I would wish is to see this child taken care of in a proper family, not an orphanage as the nuns would have it done. Maria Cecilia answers sadly.

Given that he is not worthy of your hand, make him pay money. Let Sior Gandt be forced to pay for the upkeep of the child. It is always easier to find a good family for a child if there is good sponsorship. Devi continues.

What money? He can't afford a pot to piss in and probably has to do it in other people's flower pots.

That can't be entirely true. I know that he had his hands on a great deal of money when he went to Roma. Also he has rich relations in England.

So you would have me talk to this Conte of yours? Maria Cecilia looks up at Devi.

The Conte knows many people, and has alot of influence. you have nothing to lose in talking to the Conte. Men like Sior Gandt should not be allowed to get away with this sort of thing

Perhaps. Where can I find you?

I am easy to find. I am here on the island. The Conte has rooms in the big Villa on the hill.

Allright. I will talk to this Conte tomorrow. Tonight I am too tired to do anything more. I must return to my lodgings and rest.

You do look rather pale. Devi observes, scratching at her wrist. Well if I can do anything more to help you let me know.

What is your name?

I am called Devi.

I am Maria.

Having listened in on the conversation between that scoundrel Sior Gandt and the young woman recently arrived on the boat from Naples. Having watched the young woman hurry away towards the Piazza, Devi waited until Sior Gandt had gone into the Taverna, before she hurried after the young Woman.

She found her quickly enough sitting on the stone bench crying.

Signorina, can I speak to you?

Maria Cecilia tries to dry her eyes, looks up and nods a silent hello.

As you wish.

I could not help but overhear your conversation with Sior Gandt.

Oh splendid. someone else to mock me and my circumstances. Very well Signorina, mouth your pious platitudes and then be on your way.

Ohhh no Signorina, you misunderstand me. I want to help you.

I have had enough of people who want to help, grazie. Maria Cecilia replies bitterly. Help, no help it is all the same. Maria Cecilia begins to cough.

I know Sior Gandt as the scoundrel he is. You should not let him get away with this! Are you ill Signorina? Devi asks with concern.

If by ill, you mean with child and nearly ready to deliver, then yes I suppose I am unwell.

Unfortunatelly I cannot help you with that problem, you are too advanced. It is to late for a herbal remedy.

That is not a solution I would have wanted anyway. Maria Cecilia looks shocked. So how do you intend to help? Sell me to a Barbary flesh trader perhaps? Install me as yet another mistress of the Beggar King?

Don't be silly! But you could talk to some people who might force Sir Gandt to do right by you. My "Padrino" is the Conte of Foscari, and he may be able to help you, and he has some influence over Sior Gandt. You should talk to him.

Maria Cecilia remains silent, so Devi continues. But do you really want to marry Sior Gandt? after his treatment of you.

Maria Cecilia shakes her head sadly. Having seen more of what the man truly is...no!

he held more appeal when he was under the influence of the wine and drugs, or perhaps it was that I was under the influence as well and my perceptions were skewed.

He probably drugged you, in order to take advantage of you. He should be made to pay!

Maria Cecilia waves her hand. it was not like that. I am at fault as well.

Devi continues her tirade. So another solution must be found. what would you wish for if you had choices? Devi casually brushes a Mosquito from her hand.

What I would wish is to see this child taken care of in a proper family, not an orphanage as the nuns would have it done. Maria Cecilia answers sadly.

Given that he is not worthy of your hand, make him pay money. Let Sior Gandt be forced to pay for the upkeep of the child. It is always easier to find a good family for a child if there is good sponsorship. Devi continues.

What money? He can't afford a pot to piss in and probably has to do it in other people's flower pots.

That can't be entirely true. I know that he had his hands on a great deal of money when he went to Roma. Also he has rich relations in England.

So you would have me talk to this Conte of yours? Maria Cecilia looks up at Devi.

The Conte knows many people, and has alot of influence. you have nothing to lose in talking to the Conte. Men like Sior Gandt should not be allowed to get away with this sort of thing

Perhaps. Where can I find you?

I am easy to find. I am here on the island. The Conte has rooms in the big Villa on the hill.

Allright. I will talk to this Conte tomorrow. Tonight I am too tired to do anything more. I must return to my lodgings and rest.

You do look rather pale. Devi observes, scratching at her wrist. Well if I can do anything more to help you let me know.

What is your name?

I am called Devi.

I am Maria.

It was the evening of San Giovanni di Batista, and everyone was gathered on the great lawn to celebrate with dancing, food and fireworks. There had been a party atmosphere for two days now, and this was a perfect opportunity to carry out the first part of his mission. For Cesare had a mission. He was not here in Sorrentina by chance, and he intended to carry it out perfectly and to the letter.

Taking one last look to make sure that everyone was at the festivities, and that no one was paying attention to him, he slowly walked away from the lawn, and made his way through the vines, towards the silent houses, standing empty, their occupants busy enjoying the evening.

Breaking in was nearly too easy. These people all left their windows open during these hot summer nights, and Cesare was very good at climbing over roof tops. He had had enough practice back home as a boy. Breaking and entering was a skill he had learnt early, and it still served him well when Cristofoli sent him on special missions. This was not the first time Cesare had worked for Cristofoli, and although Cristofoli was a hard task master, he also paid extremely well, and was a very good person for an ambitious young man from Mestre to know.

Cesare was very ambitious. He might be the son of a poor Fisherman, but he would not stay poor, nor would he remain on the mainland, nor would he ever be a Fisherman. No! He and his descendents would one day live in the heart of the city of Venice, and move in the best circles. They would dine with the best families. They would not be mere Fishermen, but Admirals in the Arsenale. He, Cesare Bertolini, would make it so no matter what it took, no matter what he had to do.

Cesare was very ambitious.

The first part of his mission was to locate some incriminating letters. Cesare began to search the writing bureau in one of the rooms, and soon found the documents he was looking for. Having checked that he had everything, Cesare gently closed the drawers of the bureau, and tucked the letters safely into the inside pocket of his jacket. Making sure that nothing was out of place he began making his way back out of the apartment. With some luck the occupant wouldn't notice the letters were missing for a while, and even if he did, what could he possibly do, without incriminating himself.

He stopped and opened a fine wooden box, containing a very fine set of Guns. Admiring them, Cesare promised himself that he too would possess such fine weapons one day, very soon. As he climbed back out of the apartment, nimble as a monkey, onto the roof tops, he took one last look around the finely furnished apartment. Sior Gandt was certainly living in fine style on Sbirri money!

It was the evening of San Giovanni di Batista, and everyone was gathered on the great lawn to celebrate with dancing, food and fireworks. There had been a party atmosphere for two days now, and this was a perfect opportunity to carry out the first part of his mission. For Cesare had a mission. He was not here in Sorrentina by chance, and he intended to carry it out perfectly and to the letter.

Taking one last look to make sure that everyone was at the festivities, and that no one was paying attention to him, he slowly walked away from the lawn, and made his way through the vines, towards the silent houses, standing empty, their occupants busy enjoying the evening.

Breaking in was nearly too easy. These people all left their windows open during these hot summer nights, and Cesare was very good at climbing over roof tops. He had had enough practice back home as a boy. Breaking and entering was a skill he had learnt early, and it still served him well when Cristofoli sent him on special missions. This was not the first time Cesare had worked for Cristofoli, and although Cristofoli was a hard task master, he also paid extremely well, and was a very good person for an ambitious young man from Mestre to know.

Cesare was very ambitious. He might be the son of a poor Fisherman, but he would not stay poor, nor would he remain on the mainland, nor would he ever be a Fisherman. No! He and his descendents would one day live in the heart of the city of Venice, and move in the best circles. They would dine with the best families. They would not be mere Fishermen, but Admirals in the Arsenale. He, Cesare Bertolini, would make it so no matter what it took, no matter what he had to do.

Cesare was very ambitious.

The first part of his mission was to locate some incriminating letters. Cesare began to search the writing bureau in one of the rooms, and soon found the documents he was looking for. Having checked that he had everything, Cesare gently closed the drawers of the bureau, and tucked the letters safely into the inside pocket of his jacket. Making sure that nothing was out of place he began making his way back out of the apartment. With some luck the occupant wouldn't notice the letters were missing for a while, and even if he did, what could he possibly do, without incriminating himself.

He stopped and opened a fine wooden box, containing a very fine set of Guns. Admiring them, Cesare promised himself that he too would possess such fine weapons one day, very soon. As he climbed back out of the apartment, nimble as a monkey, onto the roof tops, he took one last look around the finely furnished apartment. Sior Gandt was certainly living in fine style on Sbirri money!

Down on the docks the voyagers were disembarking one by one, from the ship recently docked from Naples. While the sailors carried their trunks and luggage off the ship.
Miss Margaret Cindercroft steps onto the Docks and looked around the port, her eyes coming to rest on a tall man dressed in dark clothes. She gives him a long, appreciative glance, starting from his boots and working her eyes up, slowly.
Her sister, Lady Grubiella Foxglove follows her, gently crooning to the small dog in her arms.
He is quite handsome, that fellow over there, the one we travelled over with, don't you think, Grubiella?
Ohh Margaret, my poor little Princippe he really doesn't like the sea....he is quite off his feed! Look! He is still shivering...
You are right, Poor little "Princippe" he is indeed shivering.
Grubiella looks sideways at the tall Gentleman and whispers back.
But you are right about that man, though. He can pat my Pug any-time!
So forward sister! What will he think of us?
He will think whatever we want him to think....
Margaret gives the man another approving glance from his boots up, raising her eyes slowly and admiring his male form.
.and my forwardness has served us well in the past I seem to remember. What about that time you got into that tight spot with that French Captain at the barracks. continues Grubiella.
Tight spot, me? Margaret puts on her most innocent expression, while giving the tall man another admiring glance.
You were happy enough for me to be forwards that time, Grubiella gives Margaret a friendly hip push.
I seem to remember a friendly Frenchman, or two.Margaret smiles at the memory.
...or three or four...and they were all rather friendly I seem to remember. Grubiella giggles.

The tall Man, unable to ignore the Ladies, bows politely to them and introduces himself.
My name is Cesare Bertolini, from Mestre. At your service Signore.
Do you know this island, Signor Bertolini? Margaret smiles her second best smile.
I am afraid I don't. I too, am a stranger here. Cesare smiles back
I hope we meet again. Cesare bows again and walks towards the village.
I hope so too Signor. Margaret beams at his receding form.

Grubiella strokes Il Princippe and looks around.
I wonder what they will be like here?
Tanned and brown, I'm guessing...it's not like England here with all that dreadful rain. Margaret smiles.
I do still miss Ol'Blighty you know. Grubiella looks wistful for a very short moment. Will we ever return, do you think?
I don't know if England is on the cards for us, any time soon, Grubiella dearest. We have a job to do here, don't forget. For a fleeting second Margaret's eyes cloud over.
This is true. I don't forget. Grubiella nods seriously.
Margaret reaches over to pet Il Princippe warmly: There must be some sort of boarding house, where we can get some chicken stew for your little darling.
I certainly hope so, he hasn't eaten since Napoli.
I am sure there must be. Look around, it looks lovely here, and well appointed. Its not all huts and shacks. I think we should follow our noses for some food and drink, dear sister.
Grubiella nods in agreement: do you think the trunks and luggage will be safe here for the moment, or will everything be stolen?
I am sure they will be safe. This isn't Naples. Margaret waves to a local man in the distance, and signals him to come over: Pardon Signore? Can we safely leave our things here, while we look for lodgings?
He isn't bad either. Grubiella whispers to Margaret.

Welcome to Sorrentina Ladies. Of course you can leave your things here, they will be quite safe. Hugo bows to the two Ladies.
I couldn't help overhearing that you are looking for somewhere to refresh yourselves. There is an excellent coffee establishment, on your right down the walkway over there. Hugo points towards the walkway in the distance.
Bu-o-n-a se-r-a, Gi-o-va-n-o-tto. Grubiella tries her best Italian. Gr-a-z-i-e.
Hugo Bows again and strolls away.

A short while later, having found the Coffee house, Grubiella and Margaret savour their Coffee.
A most charming place, Marge. A lovely view, don't you think?
Very lovely, dear Grubiella. One really couldn't do this in England, without catching one's death.
Margaret pulls down her bodice a bit, just in case a man might pass by. A girl has to be prepared.
How much money do we have left? I imagine we will have to be a bit careful....you know these small places. Grubiella strokes Il Princippe, now fully revived, after tasting the local rabbit stew.
Do you want me to dig it out right now sister? Margaret looks around and giggles and thinks of the purse safely strapped to her upper thigh.
Don't be daft! I was just wondering how long before we would have to think about acquiring some more?
Not much, sister. We may well have to earn our supper soon. Margaret whispers.
That is what I was thinking. We shall have to see what the people are like here, and which of our methods will work best here. Grubiella continues.
I do wonder how many Men there might be on such a small island though... Margaret looks wistful.
It looks like an affluent place, so there may well be some men that will suit our needs. Grubiella narrows her eyes and looks around critically. ....Or Ladies with too many jewels... Grubiella continues.
We had best be polite then, to all we meet until the right opportunity presents itself. Margaret gives Grubiella a meaningful look.
I shall be politeness personified. I promise. I shall curtsey to everyone...ect...ect...not knive anyone...I know...I know
I do adore you Sister, and your wit. Margaret giggles. Have you hidden your dagger in a safe place?
Off course I have Dear Sister. Its strapped to my thigh. Its quite safe. Grubiella touches her thigh.