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.