Letters to Juliet

Chapter 9

(translation made by myself, so please forgive my bad english...)

Sitting at the terrace of his big and comfortable apartment that overlooked the courtyard of the Venetian Arsenal, general Guerini was ending, without any rush, his breakfast. He was on a happy mood. His wife and their two last children had left the day before to visit the maternal family, and he was delighted with those two weeks alone that were presenting to him. Whatever stripes he wore, his authority unfortunately used to stop rubbing off as soon as he crossed the doorstep of his home in which was in charge, with firm hand, the one who formerly had been so tender and so nice, his beloved wife. When he had met her, twenty years before, he had thought nothing about her sour temper, her hysterical crisis at each contrariety, so much he had been dazzled by her beauty: her long jet-black hair which cascaded down along her back, her big dark eyes which had pierced his heart, her red-lipped like cherry mouth that smiled to him. But now with time, her waist had become heavier as much as her bad temper, her lovely sketches had left place to grinning rictus, which brought him to regret that the Big War was over and that he could not to go back to the front. He had fiercely fought there, but he had at least peace!

Savouring that moment of quietude, he was sipping his cup of coffee, humming pleasantly. It was a beautiful morning of July, the schedule of the day was promising to be quiet, and with a bit of luck, he would may be slip away for a few hours to go fishing in a little cove that few people knew, on the other side of the lagoon. He screwed up his eyes with satisfaction at the prospect of this and swallowed his last coffee limp. He was putting his cup back on the saucer when an officer came to inform him that some Count Contarini wanted to see him and that he was hanging around in front of the Porta Magna (1) of the building.

- That man has long enough kept company to the lions (2) ! Hurry up and bring him here! He's a friend of mine ! - Said the general, pushing back his chair as he stood up.

He had not seen him for years. They had met during poker games, which recalled him some biting defeats he had inflicted on him. The count was an excellent fellow gamer... from the moment he did not lose, which led sometimes to memorable arguments between the players. With time and the occupations of each one, those night-time meetings had become less frequent and they finally had lost touch with each other. The general was then very curious to know the reason of that unexpected visit, but he had not the time to ask him the question because his visitor, as coming into the apartment, cried out when seeing him :

Alfonso !!! I need your help!!!

(1) The gate of the Venetian Arsenal, represents the access to the pedestrian road to the military-industrial complex of the arsenal.
(2) The lions of the Arsenal are statues from ancient Greece, brought back during war spoils of the XVIIth century, and that are located on both side of the gate.


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Albert looked at his alarm clock and could not believe his eyes. 2 o'clock in the morning! Who was waking him up at that time then ???

- I'm sorry, sir – did his butler, very embarrassed – But that man insisted to have you receiving that information personally.
- Have him wait, Oscar. I'm going down immediately. ! - Said Albert, irritated, as he went and wore a night-gown. What was so urgent to get him out of bed in the middle of the night then???

His surprise was all the more bigger as he realized that it was a soldier who was waiting for him in front of the entrance of his house. That latter took off his Navy Cap and saluted Albert.

- Officer Wilson Smith from the Naval Station Great Lake, sir. Please, forgive that intrusion but I've been ordered to tell you about an urgent message from Italy...
- From Italy? - Asked Albert as he looked at the piece of paper the soldier was handing to him. It was a telegram.

"To Mr William Albert Andrew,
Wedding rumours about Miss Candice White Andrew and Mister Capwell. On honeymoon to Venice. Please, confirm. Reporter from the NY Post investigating.
Terrence Grandchester informed and disappeared since then.

Count Contarini, via the Venetian Arsenal, Italy"

Under the influence of emotion, Albert's hand began to shake. He looked at the officer with a bulging gaze melted with incredulity. That latter said to him: