While enjoying her evening perambulations, Mrs. Piozzi came upon two gentlemen of Rocca Sorrentina deep in conversation, which ended abruptly, as she approached. These gentlemen were none other than Magistrato e Profesore Stern and Dottore Greymoon, who made an excuse to leave rather soon after Mrs. P's appearance.

Mrs. P passed some time in discussion with the Magistrato. He seems inclined not to think the goods come ashore from the shipwreck are stolen booty, but rather legally owned merchandise to be illegally sold in Naples or Rome. The boxes and crates are labeled as holding tobacco and brandy and silk. ((Yes, Lorsagne, silk!))

Mrs Piozzi turned back to see the Magistrato standing alone on the beach, seeming to consider something.

Not wanting to be killed as one, but possessing the curiousty of a cat, Mrs. Piozzi, took cover behind a fruit tree. From there she listened for the sound of the Magistrato coming away from the shore. His footsteps never came.

Mrs. Piozzi crept from behind her tree and saw the Magistrato reach out to one of the crates and it looked as though he meant to open it.

That is when a soldier appeared and took up conversing with Magistrato Stern, who continued the process of opening the crate. ((This is revealed in the picture above. If you look closely, you'll see the Magistrato's magic opening tool, lighting a direct line between his hand and the crate.))

updated by @stephanie-mesler: 11 Jan 2017 01:51:18AM

Very, very curious indeed!

Mrs. Piozzi returned to the spot where yesterday she observed The Magistrato opening one of the crates which had washed ashore after the shipwreck. She was not at all surprised to find that very crate Cracked apart and its contents removed. She noted also that the barrels which had washed up near it were removed from the scene.

Good silk is hard to come by . . . . but the talented dressmakers of the island are enjoying a windfall.

Good silk, eh? Such a sad time for duty to be keeping me away from La Rocca...

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Antiquity Hedgewitch

I hear the local officials are coming to search our homes this evening. Merde! I must gather my wits about me and pay a visit to my strongbox. One must be prepared to offer the soldiers an inducement to spare one's residence the disruption of a search, so I will also stop at the good Dottore's pharmacy for the oils I use to blend a most intoxicating scent and change into something rather more appealing to the eye than a simple day frock.

But I have nothing to fear from the inspection. And I have my ratty standing guard. . .one does what one must when it involves silk of the most wonderful quality . . . or so I hear. Of course, I would not have knowledge of any ill-gotten goods.

And naturally your seamstress has even less knowledge! I trust that you do not have too much competition for her quick service.

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Antiquity Hedgewitch

I am a French woman . . . we are born with sharp elbows to make our way to the head of any line. . no seamstress ever causes us to wait.