Affecting his best imitation of the Duke of Fallbridge, Mr. Punch smiled and responded. “Julian Pulcinella and party.”
“Pulcinella?” The man narrowed his eyes, studying his passenger list. “Italian?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t sound Italian.”
“I was raised in England.” Mr. Punch responded.
“Papers?”
“Of course,” Punch nodded, producing the paperwork which Adrienne had so expertly forged for all of them.
“All these folks with you?”
“Yes.” Punch nodded. “Roberto il Dottore—the gentleman to my right with the dark hair. This is,” he pointed to Cecil, “the Tussaud family. Cedric and his wife Cecilia and their child Frederick.”
The officer looked back and forth from the paperwork to the group—tired and hungry who stood before them.
“Behind me,” Punch continued, unrattled, “is my man, Carlo. He is holding my son, Arlecchino.”
“What’s with him?” The officer pointed to Gerard. “We don’t want no sick folk not with the fever spreadin’ here.”
“He’s not ill.” Punch continued, still unfazed. “He was in an accident. He fell down a flight of stairs. He’s my companion’s man, Gregory.”
“It all checks.” The officer grumbled. “What about the Africans?”
“These are…” Punch began.
“I don’t need their names. Just how many.”
In his head, Punch quickly counted Marjani, Gamilla and Columbia. “Three. I trust there will be space for them.”
“Sure, but they gotta stay below decks.”
“Of course,” Punch nodded. “May I keep my dog with me in the cabin?”
The man frowned.
“I’ll take full responsibility.” Punch smiled charmingly.
“Fine.” The man growled.
Punch wanted to whoop with glee, but he kept his reserve.
“Pulcinella and son are in Cabin 17 A. Dottore is in the adjoining 17 B. Mr. and Mrs. Tussaud are in 19 A and B.” The man continued curtly. “Your valets will be below in number 92.”
“What of…”
“The Africans can find a place in steerage.”
Punch looked nervously over his shoulder at Gamilla, Marjani and Columbia. Marjani smiled reassuringly.
“They will be treated well?” Punch asked.
“Sure.” The man laughed.
Punch began to argue, but Robert gently touched his elbow.
“Let’s get to our cabins, then.” Robert nodded.
“The Africans gotta go down now.” The officer barked.
Marjani spoke up. “We’ll find our way, Sir.”
“But…” Punch blurted out.
“What?” The officer snarled.
“I think Mr. Pulcinella is concerned because these women are invaluable servants and we do require their services. We can’t lose access to them.”
“They can serve ya.” The officer shrugged. “But, they gotta stay out of the saloons and reception areas.”
“We know what cabins you’re in.” Marjani nodded. “We will find you, Sir.”
Punch smiled weakly.
“Go on, then.” The officer ordered.
Punch nodded, walking away. He took a deep breath as he watched Marjani—Columbia’s hand in hers—hurry off behind a group of other African people.
“I hope they’ll be safe.” Punch whispered to Robert.
“They will.” Robert responded, picking up Toby. “If anyone can handle anything it’s Marjani. She’ll look after Columbia and Gamilla. Don’t fret.”
“That were awful.” Punch spoke as himself now that they were away from the officer.
“Indeed.” Cecil shook his head.
“However, we managed it.” Robert smiled. “Thanks to Adrienne’s handiwork.”
“I’ll never remember all of our false names.” Adrienne said quietly.
“No need.” Robert said. “We’ll keep to ourselves now that we’re on board. Just remember that, until we reach England, your family name is Tussaud.”
“I don’t see why we couldn’t have gone with the name we originally discussed.” Cecil mumbled. “I don’t like to be reminded of that Tussaud woman.”
“Because you don’t look like a Scaramouche.” Robert chuckled.
“And you look like a ‘Dottore’?”
“Apparently I do.” Robert grinned.
Charles followed them, carrying Colin and Gerard limped at a distance behind.
Punch stopped and studied Gerard.
“Here, Charles. Why don’t you give me Colin? You can help Gerry down to your bunks, then.”
“I’m fine, Sir.” Gerry croaked.
“Mr. Pu…Pulcinella is correct.” Robert paused. “Charles, do take Gerry. I’ll be down to check on your shortly.”
“Oh, you musn’t, Sir.” Gerard shook his head painfully. “It’s not fitting.”
“Yes, it is.” Robert said firmly.
“Yes, Sir.”
Charles handed the baby to Mr. Punch. His face, for once, was relaxed and peaceful—content knowing they were on their way from New Orleans.
“I’ve got you, Gerard.” Charles smiled.
Gerard looked at Charles cautiously.
“I’m sorry I was so rough with you in the past. I want for us to be friends now.” Charles whispered.
Gerard nodded. “I’d like that.”
“Good.” Robert said proudly. “Go on.”
The two men went off in search of their quarters.
“Here we are,” Adrienne pointed down the corridor.
“We done it!” Punch said, trembling with excitement.
“You see,” Robert smiled, putting his arm around Punch’s shoulders. “In an hour we’ll be at sea, on our way home.”
“You was right, Chum.” Mr. Punch answered, his eyes filling with happy tears.
“Now, nothing can stop us.” Adrienne exclaimed.
Little did she know, but on the docks, a group gazed upon the ship.
“They’re already aboard.” Giovanni sighed.
“No matter,” Barbara Allen responded.
“Really, Barbara?” Ulrika grunted. “Do you think we can just charge aboard with no papers?”
“We don’t need papers.” Marie Laveau said stiffly.
“Miss Laveau is right.” Odo added.
“Keep quiet, Odo.” Marie spat.
“Just do as I suggested,” Barbara said. “And, we’ll all get what we deserve.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-453? If so, you can read them here. Come back on Monday, February 6, 2012 for Chapter 455 of Punch’s Cousin.
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