It was late afternoon and the Conte was catching up with hiscorrespondence when noisescomingfrom the harbour attracted hisattention.

Going out on the terrace, he gazed down and observed with amusement how smoothly the Professore's Men distract the custom officials from Naples, while the sailors calmly unload the cannon under their very noses.

It had pleased him to help the Professore in this matter, although he was curious as to why the Professore should want three cannon.

He liked the Professore. They had developed a warm rapport during the weeks he had been staying at the Villa on Rocca Sorentina. They were sailing different ships, but they were looking for the same Port.

It had also given him an opportunity to delay the delivery of the shipment to the Empress, thus , perhaps, in some small way delaying her intended war against the Turks.

Back in 1757, when his father had been appointed Ambassador toConstantinople he had taken his brother, Ferigo, and himself with him. Mostlikelythis was to make sure neither of them got involved with the 7 years war.

In total they had spent five years in Constantinople, and he had fallen in love with the city.

The Conte walked down to the Harbour, as he did every evening, and as he gazed at the the sun setting on the sea, he could still remember that special light as the sun set over theBosporus.

Ferigo was now Ambassador to StPetersburg, so they could not be seen supporting the Turks, for his sake.

The Conte stroked his friend, the harbour cat, as dusk settled over the island, and lost himself in memories and dreams of another time.....asveltesilhouette, a smile, laughter inthe dark....and those black eyes.