How I recall the day, 6 months ago, when I challenged Dr Panacek to a possibly deadly duel, if he had turned out to be the man I was looking for...

His fencing was unexperienced, then, but he proved to be so courageous! and fortunately I did not have to kill him!

He was cheered by a crowd of friends and residents, and among them a so-called Miss Stormy Lorakeet ( they had not yet met each other, I've been told).

He began the fight as a simple and unemployed country doctor, sleeping in haystacks, and after the duel he entered gloriously the tavern with a roaring crowd of friends and admirers greeting him as the heroic, modest and humorous Man he indeed was.

Stormy looked already at him with stars in her eyes.

Oh, I haven't done anything good in my life, except that day, maybe: unconsciously, unwillingly, I may have been the spark that ignited first what was to become the flame of love in their heart.

It would be unfair to take all the credit though:I did not play a big part, they would have met and fallen in love anyhow, for they were so obviously meant for each other.

But it warms my solitary heart to believe I have done this one good deed at least: creating the opportunity for two lovers to meet.

Out of the bad, sometimes, the best may come out: in this case, it did!

Mrs Panacek, Doctor, let me wish you a long and happy married life in the Duchy of Coeur: I've traveled a lot, and believe me, there's no other place like it,thanks to people like you and all your friends.

Le Chevalier Mystere

I made it to Russia, at last!

This Empire is so huge and so far away, they cannot keep their borders, which are much harder to reach than to cross. But, once you've done this, the worst is yet to come.

I arrived by southwest, and had in mind to board a ship on the Volga River ( since I was so exhausted by my journey).Alas! the whole oblast (region) was in uproar and so insecure!

The Cossacks had rebelled, were joined by the Muslim Bachkirs, as well as myriads of serves and peasants.The country was raided by hords of Cossacks on horseback; both cities and villages were assaulted and burnt by them if unwilling to join the rebellion, or assaulted and burnt by the Imperial Forces if they joined it!

Foreigners like me (as few as they were) were suspected by both parties to be spies. Under the circumstances, I found it necessary to remove my mask, because it attracted more attention than I could afford.( I wear a mask since the day, in Versailles, when I was on the track of my father's presumed agressor, on the verge of meeting him...when someone in the crowd recognised me, shouted my name, and my prey escaped.)

During my Russian travels, I was captured by a brigade of Imperial Forces in a filthy tavern near Tsaritsyne, and jailed. Fortunately, the " natchalnik " (Commander in Chief) of the oblast spoke a little french and I was freed after a week. Later in Saratov, I narrowly escaped being lynched by peasants- the small local German community having saved me.

Eventually, I rallied Saint Petersburg, and strolled along the Nevsky Prospekt, around the Winter Palace, in the gardens and by the banks of the Neva River, searching Colonel SUVOROV, also known as Count Oblonsky, also known as ThomasK Andel, in this amazing city which resembles a gigantic " decor de theatre " .

The same informer who told me that Suvorov had secretly gone to Cornwall when my father was wounded and humiliated there by a mysterious foreigner, left me the message that I could meet the Colonel near the Summer Palace next morning at 9 am. This I did, and indeed there he was, nonchalantly having his morning walk between the green thickets and the marble statues.

I adjusted my mask and went straight to him.He showed no surprise, and I wondered why (Now I know this little french pest of a peasant girl, Sophie something, must have warned him.)

I challenged him for a duel, and his only answer was: " Sir, I have other duties: to my Country, and to her Imperial Majesty the Csarin of All Russias. I refuse to let your personal interest interfere with my obligations, and I shall not accept your insane demand."

I buffeted him with my glove, calling him a coward and a man without honor.

His face grew paler, he clenched his fists, trembling with rage, trying to keep hold of himself, then turned his back on me. As he retreated , I shouted: " You cannot escape me! I will come to your Valse des Fleurs Ball on April the 30th, and by the end of the party, when the clock strikes two, I will challenge you in front of all the Imperial Court!This time, you will have no way out! If you are the man I am looking for, your time has come!!"

Of course, I sense now the Imperial Secret Police is after me. I have taken refuge in Saint Petersburg slums, and change lodging every day.

At night laying on the bed in these miserable rooms, I count the cockroaches on the ceiling. I hear the patter of squeaking rats all around...and I recall our Mansion among the Hydrangeas of Cornwall. I hear the North Sea surf splashing the rocks of its coast. I hear my father's horses whinnying in the meadows.

I wonder how everyone is doing over there, and if they miss me as I miss them.

But then my anger ignites again, and I can't wait until that valse des Fleurs Ball, on April the 30th....

I recovered, and here I am now, eastwardly crossing the Alps at night, knee-deep in snow, wrapped up in my long coat, freezing...

Some gentlefolk in the Duch de Coeur, and Lord Byron, Count of Loredan have offered me friendship...and I accepted, however hesitantly. For the first time in years, I have friends. I had forgotten what a warm feeling it is.I may go back to them, when my quest is over...If I survive, that is.

For them and for Dr Panacek, who have shown their understanding, I will tell my story.

My father is an Officer in the English Army.He upgraded, step by step, thanks to his sole merits at war, fom Ensign to Lieutenant, Captain, Major, Colonel then General, and was subsequently appointed Lieutenant-General of one of our Dominions.

He was a grand man, physically as well as in his behavior.

He was a good husband too, and a perfect father, though he was not always with us being off to the battlegrounds all too often.When he would come back home to our Cornwall Mansion,he would take great care of his family, and give all his attention to his children's education, especially mine, as I was the first born.

In great detail he would tell us of his victories, of the grandeur of England, he would instill into me how to behave like a man in all circumstances, advise me in my readings, then discuss them.He would laugh with us all by the fireplace, in the waning hours of the day.

He would take me hunting foxes,teach me how to improve my fencing, and I would accompany him for long rides in the countryside.

Ahh- how i recall those blissful days, when we wandered on horseback in the hills' greenery, or along the rocky shores, with the wind in our hair!

I was in my late teens, then, and he was my Idol.

He was on a short list, on the desk of King George III,to be appointed Lieutenant-General of our Army in India, such a great honor and responsibility.He planned to organize a social gathering in our Mansion, and invited many Courtiers of London, to support his claim to this honor.

It was a beautiful summer day, our garden was in bloom, and how flattering it was to see so many Ladies and Gentlemen, in their resplendent attire, coming and going between the trees and flowers, listening to the music of our village band, and chatting enthusiastically! By the end of day, as the sun slowly set, gloriously painting our garden hues of red, I stood by my Mother, and looked at my father in the distance, encircled by Government Dignitaries, discussing his future.

Suddenly, a man removed himself from the crowd, and adressed my father rudely. I was facing the sunset, and therefore could not see clearly his face.He insulted my begetter, calling him a butcher and an assassin, a stain on England's repute and honor.

My father was so surprised at first, but soon showed signs of a terrible anger I was not accustomed to witnessing.I heard him say "You! YOU!" ( as if he knew this man) " You will have to pay for what you said and did!", and he unsheathed his sword.The Stranger and my father set themselves to "en garde" position, as the people around them stepped back.

My Papa was a tall and powerful man, but had become somewhat portly as the years had passed.The Stranger was moving faster than he, and the first assaults by my father did not reach his opponent.

The unknown man then attacked for the first time, and a swift move of his sword tore off the military medals worn on my father's chest. In a second move, he wrapped his blade around my Dad's, and with a rapid twist of the wrist, disarmed him: his epee fell on the ground.

The Stranger pointed his weapon at my father's throat, and all attendants dropped their jaws and uttered a "Aaah!" of despair. "Take it back", the man said.

My heart was aching to see my Papa so humiliated.

All the following assaults by my father, driven by an obvious rage, were in vain. Finally, the Stranger tried a very powerful attack towards my Papa's heart , which was parried in part, but the sword was only deflected and penetrated deeply into my father's groin.

I saw him falling down, as a flow of blood tainted his pants.The man was standing above him, moving his blade to adjust a final and lethal blow.My mother and I shouted with all the power of our lungs a piercing" No-oo!"

The man seemed to hesitate for a short while -which seemed an eternity- and then dropped his sword, ran at full speed, jumped on a horse, and disappeared from view, amid a tumult of cries and shouts.

My Papa was brought into his bedroom, and the Family Physician, who happened to be in attendance, administrated first aid.The celebration was over, and the guests dispersed, many of them not even bidding farewell, nor asking news about my father's health.

It was, for my father and our family, the beginning of the end.He suffered a severe injury, from which he never recovered completely.He spent most of his time laying in his bed, his mood changed: he became a gloomy, despondent man.

At the Court of King George, he fell into disgrace:he was not granted the Army leadership in India.All our friends and neighbors seemed suddenly to have major reasons to decline our invitations to our Mansion, or to our London house.

Papa lost his patience, he was irritated all the time.My mother, who was all sweetness,tried to soothe and help him, but he rejected her, and their children as well.He was not anymore the man i had idolized.

My mother's heart was broken, and she fell ill. Less than one year later, she died of grief.

My carefree days of youth were over. I was entering manhood the hard way.An irrepressible wave of hate submerged my soul, taking it hostage. We sold our London house, and I requested my aunt to keep the Mansion, and take care of my father, brothers and sisters.One dull grey autumn morning, i left this once happy and now distressed home, and began my search for the Stranger.

I knew it would be a very lenghty and difficult quest.I had no clues. I did not know the man's name, I had not seen his face. All I had was the memory of an observation: a somehow peculiar hold on his sword, and something in his fencing manner...

I knew I would have to knock at hundreds of doors, cover thousands of miles, ask millions of questions. I knew I would be a homeless man of solitude, and a foreigner everywhere.There was no place left for friends nor love in my life, contrary to all youg men of my age. I knew I would have much to abide, sleeping in haystacks and getting burnt by the summer sun, hiding in barns, freezing to near death in winter, obliged to beg for food, to drink water crouching in brooks like an animal, being stoned and chased out of villages, - and i knew i was risking my life.

I knew all this, but my hate had the upper hand. I HAD TO DO IT! It was the only meaning my life could have now,so that my father could be revenged, so that he could be proud of his son, and perhaps become again the same man he once was.

And now I go, forever onwards, crossing the Alps at night in an easterly direction, wrapped up in my long coat and knee-deep in snow,freezing... Wolves are howling in the near distance, but they don't threaten me: they sense I am a wolf among the wolves.

I am hiding in the woods now...taking some rest and healing my wounds with bandages of green moss.

Sitting beneath a tree, i hear the birds tweeting above, and a squirrel in front of me is wondering what this stranger is doing here...

The duel with Dr Panacek has been so tough.Oh not because of my opponent! He was valiant and fronted me with courage, but he is so unexperienced! No...being used as i am to fence, person to person, without attendants, as i did with Count Byron of Loredan, Ambassador of Venice, i was surprised this time: when i arrived near the Languedoc piste, it was like entering a cage full of lions!

Nearly everybody from the Duchy of Coeur was there, all came to support their friend: from Duke and Duchesses to peasants, bakers, bourgeois, sailors, the ladies and gentlemen, and even a friar...

Not to mention the Gipsies! Ah the Gipsies and their magical weapons! They attacked me before the duel, arguing i had been unfair to their friend. I believe they were unfair to me, but it was not the place and time for discussing opinions! Anyhow, they wounded me badly and I lost a lot of blood: i felt so weak...but i had to come back and fight.

I had lost part of my strength, and would the Doctor have been more experienced, he should have won:but the matter was not about losing or winning, the duel was meant to find the truth about Pekel Panacek.

During this single combat (if I may say so) I felt -almost physically- the hatred of some, and the adversity of all: I am used to that. For two years, i have been hardening my heart, it's like a rock, now. Only...I heard the friar praying for Panacek 's survival, and more surprisingly to me, nearly praying that my soul coud find peace someday. Made me wonder what I resented more: Hate or Pity?

Anyway, i felt relieved I did not have to kill my opponent of the day. All these people are such a tightly-knit and friendly community! I envied them.

I briefly thought to myself that maybe i could live a peaceful and happy life like theirs, someday, somewhere...I quickly dismissed this idea, I cannot allow myself any weakness of will, I have a mission to fulfill. But somehow i felt a need to let these people understand better what my life has been, and have them knowing my story: I will think this thing over, if i have enough time.

Yet my search has to be pursued, in the Duchy of Coeur or elsewhere. Soon, i will have to move to another hiding place, as i sense some men are on the prowl, after me, and I can hear their hounds barking, in the distance...