Late-afternoon, 17^thof August, 1784

Godfather!

Even in the dim light of the small sacristy, there was no mistaking the sole occupant who waited for Lorsagne, and it gave the old man joy to see his godchilds normally guarded face break into the smile of a child: open, trusting and full of joy.

His passenger delivered safely to his old teacher and confessor, de Saboulin Bollena turned to leave, knowing that another carriage awaited behind the basilica that would take the exiled Jesuit and his godchild to his own house for safekeeping, rest and refreshment before beginning the next leg of their journey. He would join the two this evening for dinner and conversation, and de Saboulin Bollena smiled to himself at the prospect of the Jesuits discomfort when he would have to tell the woman that she would not be traveling to Paris or Bordeaux but would instead be returning to Sorrentina in less than a days time.