Secretary of the Governor possesses, I unlocked the strongroom, entered the combination and pulled open the heavy door. The Green Box lay undisturbed, exactly where it had been placed in Paris. We lifted it together and lowered it carefully to the quay. Using rope and allowing us each a metre slack, Cortez tied us together around the Box to ensure that we wouldn’t get lost in the fog and jeopardise the delivery. Cortez and Bateau had been tied in front and Richmond and I in the rear. The Lieutenant threw up twice along the way. One of these times, he’d soiled Cortez’s shoes, for which he’d received a sudden punch on the nose. I consoled him, sotto voce, telling him to wash his face and get a drink of water once we reach the Palace, but that under no circumstances could we interrupt the procession. The Lieutenant further ingratiated himself with us by suffering a bout of violent hiccups that threw us all off our stride. Walking as carefully as we could along the phosphorescent line but bumping constantly into each other and the Box, we managed to reach the Palace. We entered the Governor’s office and placed the Box so that its indentations slotted firmly into its special stand. The Judge and I signed the certificate of authenticity and I locked the office door. We waited in the anteroom for further instructions.
Bianca showed up about ten minutes later, sent by Lady Regina. She instructed us all to leave because the Governor was resting and would have no need for our services, a pronouncement that had especially pleased Bateau as it would expedite his reunification with his bottle. Cortez, after handing Bianca a stack of European newspapers for the Governor, had immediately left for his ship. Richmond appeared reluctant to follow the Captain and so accepted with gratitude Bateau’s invitation to accompany him to a tavern.
I’d remained alone in the anteroom, burning from the need to see the Governor. In a scant two weeks we’d be celebrating the Colony’s twentieth anniversary and the famous tenor Regoleone was to perform at the Opera. He’d be coming out specifically for this occasion from Vienna. We’d been expecting him any day at the Colony but as yet no arrangements had been made for his reception and lodgings. The Governor had insisted on delaying the necessary signatures, had given me no detailed instructions as yet and this constant postponing had caused a series of problems. So, I made it clear that I had to see Bera, if only for five minutes. Bianca had been unmoved and insisted drearily that I depart. But I’m the Governor’s private secretary and I wasn’t going to be denied by a mere maid, so I made the mistake of raising my voice. Bianca burst into tears. Bianca cries with the slightest provocation, she’s in a constant state of fright and it hadn’t really been the tone of my voice, but that was how Lady Regina had chosen to see it. She had just appeared on the landing and she motioned her maid away.
“Do you find it difficult to obey such a simple order, Honoured Secretary?”
Her use of my honorific was meant to demean me – I have realised that she only speaks like that when she can’t stand someone. I removed my hat and apologised for raising the tone of my voice, but it was imperative for me to see the Governor.
“My husband is resting. I am just relaying his wishes. Will you leave or shall I have you thrown out?”
I obeyed with great annoyance. The Lady had no right to treat me like that, it’s not in our contracts, and it’s certainly beyond my comprehension why the Governor allows his coddled court to treat me as if I were their lackey. I was making my way across the gardens, it must have been ten to ten, when I looked up to see Governor Bera sitting in the wicker armchair on his balcony, idly staring. He was wearing his pyjamas and playing absent-mindedly with the key that hung from his neck. I bid him goodnight from afar but I didn’t get any response.
6
Letter of
Bianca showed up about ten minutes later, sent by Lady Regina. She instructed us all to leave because the Governor was resting and would have no need for our services, a pronouncement that had especially pleased Bateau as it would expedite his reunification with his bottle. Cortez, after handing Bianca a stack of European newspapers for the Governor, had immediately left for his ship. Richmond appeared reluctant to follow the Captain and so accepted with gratitude Bateau’s invitation to accompany him to a tavern.
I’d remained alone in the anteroom, burning from the need to see the Governor. In a scant two weeks we’d be celebrating the Colony’s twentieth anniversary and the famous tenor Regoleone was to perform at the Opera. He’d be coming out specifically for this occasion from Vienna. We’d been expecting him any day at the Colony but as yet no arrangements had been made for his reception and lodgings. The Governor had insisted on delaying the necessary signatures, had given me no detailed instructions as yet and this constant postponing had caused a series of problems. So, I made it clear that I had to see Bera, if only for five minutes. Bianca had been unmoved and insisted drearily that I depart. But I’m the Governor’s private secretary and I wasn’t going to be denied by a mere maid, so I made the mistake of raising my voice. Bianca burst into tears. Bianca cries with the slightest provocation, she’s in a constant state of fright and it hadn’t really been the tone of my voice, but that was how Lady Regina had chosen to see it. She had just appeared on the landing and she motioned her maid away.
“Do you find it difficult to obey such a simple order, Honoured Secretary?”
Her use of my honorific was meant to demean me – I have realised that she only speaks like that when she can’t stand someone. I removed my hat and apologised for raising the tone of my voice, but it was imperative for me to see the Governor.
“My husband is resting. I am just relaying his wishes. Will you leave or shall I have you thrown out?”
I obeyed with great annoyance. The Lady had no right to treat me like that, it’s not in our contracts, and it’s certainly beyond my comprehension why the Governor allows his coddled court to treat me as if I were their lackey. I was making my way across the gardens, it must have been ten to ten, when I looked up to see Governor Bera sitting in the wicker armchair on his balcony, idly staring. He was wearing his pyjamas and playing absent-mindedly with the key that hung from his neck. I bid him goodnight from afar but I didn’t get any response.
6
Letter of
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