Armand’s First Letter. Amelia’s First Letter. Cathy’s First Letter.

31 November 1023, L’Isle du Grand-Blaireau

Amelia,

We have had our first guests at the Two Sloops, M. and Mme. Suprenant, of the trading house Suprenant et Fils. His Napes tells me that M. Suprenant is one of the grand merchants of Mont-Havre, and a great friend of Mr. Tuppenny’s. Your cousin briefly worked for M. Suprenant in his early days in Armorica, and they have remained friends and business allies ever since.

He and his wife arrived in Bois-de-Bas late on Monday afternoon; and we learned of it when a bell rang aboard the Joyeux to summon our caravan. “Summon” is such a simple word, and wholly inadequate to the reality.

What happened was this. During Le Maréchal’s war, Mr. Tuppenny devised a way to send messages between Bois-de-Bas and L’Isle du Grand-Blaireau by use of formed arrows. I know nothing of forming, but here is how it was explained to me: if you make two items out of one block of wood, and form them properly, they will ever after have an attraction to one another even over long distances. And if one piece is heavy and the other is very light, the light piece can be “asked” to fly through the air to the heavy piece, where ever it is.

And so, M. Suprenant spoke with Amelie at her shop. Amelie wrote a brief note and attached it to one of these arrows, and taking it outside she threw it up into the air. A short time later the arrow struck a heavy wooden target securely attached to a pole atop the Joyeux, thereby ringing a bell, after which it dropped into a basket below. Hearing the bell, M. Henricot retrieved the arrow and its note, bringing them to Jack. Jack checked his attire, took a moment to clean a scuff mark from his peg leg, and then flew off in the caravan to fetch our first guests. Naturally, he took the arrow with him so that he could return it to Amelie.

In time we plan to post a schedule at Amelie’s general store and make regular trips to and from the island. We expect to start with two trips at first, one at the end of the work day and one at the end of the evening, as this will allow the citizens of Bois-de-Bas to come to the Two Sloops for dinner or for drinks in the King’s Parlor and then return to town for the night. For now that will be His Napes’ responsibility, but further on we will hire someone to operate the caravan and look after both it and our sky-chairs.

M. Suprenant is a stout gentleman of middle age, and his wife is like him: bluff, prosperous, and quite willing to be merry. The pair of them were all eyes as His Napes led them from the caravan and across the bridge to the Joyeux, where I met them at the door.

“This is Mlle. Gamble; she will show you to your room.”

“If you’ll come with me, s’il vous plait?” I said, and led them through the Joyeux to the Marguerite. Originally the path to the second sloop was just an extension of the bridge, being open to the weather; now it is all enclosed, with windows looking up and down the river, and leads into a cozy sitting room that occupies the bow of the sloop. We passed through and turned to the right, going down a corridor to our finest room, in the stern of the sloop. A sloop is not a man-of-war, and so has no grand captain’s cabin with stern windows, but we had contrived to create something of the sort, with a grand view of the river and the sky beyond.

“Incroyable!” said Mme. Suprenant, eyes wide.

“C’est vrai!” responded M. Suprenant.

“M. Henricot will be along shortly with your bags,” I told them with a smile. “Dinner is at 7 o’clock in the dining room, and of course you are welcome to come along to the King’s Parlor for a drink before hand.”

The Suprenants entered the dining room promptly at 7 o’clock, rosy-cheeked and well rested; and nothing would do for them but to have His Napes and I join them for dinner. It was the work of a moment for Corinne to set to more places at their table, and we all sat down with a good appetite.

“So this is where Armand lived during le cochon’s war,” said M. Suprenant in wondering tones, looking all about. “I have heard many stories, but never have I seen such a thing with my own eyes: a settlement sur une île céleste!“

“And the view from our cabin,” said Mme. Suprenant. “C’est très beau!“

“And may all our guests think the same,” said His Napes, raising his glass; and we all drank to it. There followed quite the most convivial evening I’ve had in many, many years.

Following the meal I remained at my post until the Suprenants retired to their cabin for the night; and then Jack asked me to have a seat in his office.

“Tomorrow we’ll serve breakfast to our guests for the first time,” he said. “Does Mme. Henricot have everything in order? We mustn’t spoil everything after a lovely evening.”

Mme. Henricot has been providing us with breakfast for weeks now, but for our guests we wanted something special. I was quick to reassure him.

“Have no fear,” I said. “She’s been looking forward to it.”

He nodded; and then poured two small glasses of whiskey from a bottle he took from a drawer. He slid one over to me, and raised the other.

“The Two Sloops!” he said. “May they sail proudly!”

“The Two Sloops!” I replied; and we each threw back our dram.

M. Henricot had stoked the fire in the pot-belly stove in my quarters; and so I went happily to bed, warm both within and without.

The Suprenants returned to Mont-Havre this morning, well pleased with their stay with us. I trust they are only the first of many guests.

Cathy

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Photo by Dawid Zawiła on Unsplash