Marianne smiled at Jason. "Thank you for the offer Mr. Rose, but it's not necessary. 'Tis your uncle's book, and I'll gladly return it, if your uncle would be so kind as to help clear up some of my questions?" Her cheerful expression never wavered, but her eyes were fixed questioningly on the elderly gentleman.

"But tell me more about what you do, Mr. Rose. Purveyance of exotic goods sounds really interesting. You must travel a lot." She turned her attention back to Jason with a look of curiosity.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:26, Mon 27 Dec 2004.

Basil Rose's gaze swept the room, locking on the ruined book.  He blinked,
then forced his gaze back to Marianne's face.  "But of course, Miss Trevors,"
he replied, in the same gentle, cordial tones.  Only Jason noted the whiteness
of the man's knuckles as his right hand clenched the umbrella's grip.  The
expression on Rose's face did not alter, nor did his polished voice.
"Yes, indeed, in my glory days I was quite the world-traveller.  In fact, now
that I am grown old, I find that I wish to return to those far-off shores.  My
dear nephew could use a hand in setting up his affairs of business, and I
fairly leapt at his offer to travel again.  Do you like to travel, Miss
Trevors ? I note several books here that suggest so."

Marianne's smile turned a little dreamy at his mention of far-off shores. "How romantic! I love to travel myself, but I rarely get the chance to venture off. Family and work keep me here," she said a little ruefully, sipping her tea.

"But I confess since I read about Ms. Earhart's exploits I have been wishing to go off an an adventure of my own. I would love to do some first hand research for my books. My latest novel, for instance, is set in an exotic jungle locale," she added wistfully.

A gleam of intense curiosity appeared in her eyes, and she set her teacup down and leaned towards him, lowering her voice. "Mr. Rose, you have travelled widely. May I ask if ever, in your travels, you have come across a reference to the Blood of Goolah?"

It was a delicate subject and Marianne was unsure what exactly Mr. Rose knew, but it was not her way to dissemble when there was a good story waiting to be discovered.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:19, Sun 02 Jan 2005.

Jason nodded at Basil's reference to assistance with the business affairs.  Then Jason interjected quietly, "Purveyor of Exotic and Fine Goods.  Really covers many areas of commerce.  India Rubber, tobacco, coffee, even the delightful origins of this tea we are sipping. Efferfacius herbs.  Spices.  Ingredients for delicate comestables to special fabrics.  Gems, jewelry, precious metals.  Even art and artifacts from distant realms."

He lapsed into a polite silence as Marianne responded to Basil, raising an eyebrow of mild curiosity at the mention of 'Blood of Goolah'.  He asked seriously, "I say that does sound interesting.  Where on earth did that name come from?"

Marianne grinned at that. "Doesn't it just? It's perfect for my new novel. Chapter Three. The cannibalistic natives at war. But you'll have to wait for the book to come out." Her eyes sparkled animatedly, as they always did when she talked about her work.

"I came across it when doing some research on the Amazon. Delightfully lurid sounding! I'm hoping your uncle will be able to tell me what it is exactly," she said, smiling encouragingly at the older gentleman as if urging him to confide in her.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:58, Mon 03 Jan 2005.

Jason sipped at his tea again.  Marianne's last comment had linked the book, the map and Uncle Basil together for Jason.  The 'Blood of Goolah' had, no doubt, come from research.  Basil's book testified to that.  Given their presence at Marianne's place, and the dicussion about the book and map, it was highly probable that the enquiry was directly related to those items.  "Which one?", Jason wondered.

Whilst Miss Trevors paid attention to Basil, Jason studied her surrepticiously.  Particularly, what would in later decades would be called, her body language.  Then glanced over at the book in question, and assessing it from a distance.

He next let his summations of what type of person Marianne seemed to be; considered time she had had; and what she may have done with the map physically.  Lastly he let his eyes wander around, and his instincts work to narrow down the possibility of where the map may now be placed.

His demeanor was benign interest, and politeness to allow Uncle Basil to speak.  Jason was equally interested in the response.  Though he knew, that just now, it would not necessarily be the full, or toatally accurate one.

Basil Rose devoted his attention to his tea.  "My, that takes me back.  Yes, the Amazon...utterly amazing place.  I was fortunate, in younger days, to go exploring with the redoubtable Mr. Peach, in search of the Blood of Goolah.  Are you terribly sure you want to listen to an old man's stories ?"  Rose smiled at them, a sentimental smile.  At their expectant silence, he went on.

"I scarcely know where to begin...So much happened.  But you have asked me about the Blood of Goolah.  It was reputably the fountain of youth, the one that Ponce de Leon was so assured of finding...but what we really found was quite remarkable indeed.  Temples of white and red stone, emeralds, gold, turquoise ! Tribes that had never seen a white man before, whose people could dance on vines up in the treetops !  Incredible beasts.  Flowers bigger than this room !  Birds and creatures out of fairy tales.  A remarkable time...."

The old man's eyes misted, the soft smile on his face one of wistful remembrance. "Oh, my, the memories...Miss Trevors, you have never seen such a place outside of your dreams. Even my dear nephew has not seen the splendour of the deep jungle. A long time ago, when Mr. Peach had sent me that copy of the book, I hid a map in it, in the event that I would ever wish to return.  I find that I now wish to make such a journey again, while I still can, and.... If I may be bold, Miss Trevors, would you like to see it ?  My money is sufficient to take us three on an adventure - a wonderful adventure!"

He beamed at them both, eyes twinkling merrily.

She could scarcely contain her excitement at the story of Basil's adventures. The fountain of youth! Ancient temples! And he was offering to take her with him! It was the chance of a lifetime, and Marianne was sorely tempted. But she couldn't... could she?

"Oh Mr. Rose, it all sounds like a wonderful dream! I'd love to see it!" For a moment, she imagined what it would be like to experience the sights and sounds of the jungle herself.

"But I couldn't impose on you like that," she finished with a disappointed sigh.

Jason gaped.  What a story!  And Basil seemed very genuine about it.  Jason moved his mouth up and down a couple of times.  A most respectable imitation of a codfish.

After a few seconds, some of the import of the revelation made itself felt.  Jason blinked and shook his head as though clearing it of some cottonwool stuffiness.  "I say", he managed to whisper.

Then a firm nod and speaking a little louder Jason said, "I say....  That would be wonderful.  I think Miss Trevor's would be an excellent companion for the journey."

Jason turned to Marianne and smiled.  His voice was quiet earnest, "Please, Miss Trevors, do say you'll join us.  It will be an absolutely wizard wheeze if you did."  He had slipped into a extatic schoolboy euphamism for a romping adventure, wizard wheeze.

"Nonsense, my dear lady, you would be doing me the favour of a lifetime,"  Basil Rose replied cordially.  "You've said you were a writer, have you not ?  I could ply you with my boring old stories, and you could write them up for me.  So you'd benefit, and I'd benefit.  Fair trade and all that !"

"Oh, you are both very kind! If it really won't be a bother..." Marianne began hesitantly, looking from Jason to Basil consideringly before she nodded. It was a dream come true, like something out of one of her own novels. She would be terribly silly to throw this chance away.

She reached out and shook Basil's hand firmly, her eyes twinkling with excitement.

"You mean your splendid old stories, Mr. Rose. And I'll gladly write them for you. I'll be on the bestsellers list for years if they're all like this," she replied with a broad grin on her face. "I'm afraid, you won't be rid of me now."

She picked up the book and handed it to Jason. "Please finish your tea. I'll get the map and you can tell me how close I was to cracking it on my own," she said, and left the room.

Jason took the book but did not automatically open it.  As much as he wanted to examine it, now was not the right moment. Instead he smiled his thanks, and then opened it to the sentiment.

He smiled and said, "Here you are Uncle, safe and sound."  Though his eyes never left the fly pages.  He was looking intently at the aging of the paper, ink and printing. 

Now his smile broadened, "Indeed, I am most interested, Miss Trevors, at how well you may have "cracked" it.".  Jason assumed there was some kind of encryption on the map, the key being in the book.  Though, in truth, he was not yet sure what she actually meant.

He flipped the pages of the book taking note that small markings were present.  There was no opportunity at the moment to delve further.  It could be letters, words even phrases and sentences that were referred to.

Whils he waited for Mariannes's return Jason amused himself with the first three or four entries.  Mentally he joined up the letter conection, the words, and then the phrases.  It was an amusing exercise that he doubted would reveal much.  But, you never new until you tried.

Marianne carefully closed the door behind her and danced around the room in giddy excitement. She, Marianne Trevors, was going on the adventure of a lifetime! She could hardly believe her luck! She supposed she ought to be more concerned about agreeing to go off to a foreign land with two strangers, but somehow she wasn't worried. Mr. Rose was the sweetest man on earth!

She snatched up the map and went downstairs again to show it to him, curious to see what secrets would be revealed.

Marianne brought out the map, and Basil Rose stared at it, as if a dog
staring at a steak its master was eating. "Oh, it's been so long,"  he
murmured, and pulled the gold watch from his pocket again.  He opened the
back case, and displayed a cipher key inscribed in a circle.  "If I may
trouble you for some paper,"  he said, and took a gold-nibbed fountain pen
from his jacket.  "I know the one town, that is Manaus, but I forget the
exact pathway from there.  James Peach wrote this map and gave it to me, and
he coded the directions on some special ink he made."

He proceeded to copy out the code in a painstaking manner, and then to
translate it, as the two watched.

Begin Manaus five hundred twelve miles west Mayas cat north along manioc
trail stone heads north north east mountains eight days sun sun jaguar moon
priest woman child tepui dragons descend to blood at moonrise make offering

"You see....it's fairly direct."  Basil Rose said, "But remembering all the turns, I could not hope to do it.  We shall leave, hmm, day after tomorrow ?"

Jason listened quietly and watched very closely as Basil decyphered the message.  Yes, Jason watched very closely indeed.  In particular he noted how the encoder worked, joining coded image with the cryption method used in the watch.

His curiosity about Basil moved even higher in its intensity.  There was much to considerer there.  However a smll grin came up on his face, but he wouldn't bail now.  It was altogether far too delicious a game.  Yet, generally his compusre was calm and deferential as the older man labored on the messsage.  Jason's questions could wait a while yet.


When Basil read out the result, Jason said quietly, "I'm sure that is very to you Uncle.  But some punctuation might hepl me follow the directions more precisely. And certainly, the day after tomorrow works very well for me.  Miss Trevors, how about you?"  He decided to leave his queries about the message for later.

Mr. Rose's fluid translation of the map astonished her. "The key to the encryption hidden in your watch! I must remember to put that in my book."

"The directions were no doubt written by the same person who drew the map, if the horrid punctuation is anything to go by. But who was it? You must tell us the whole story sometime!"

But she did not press him just then. She had so much to do if they were to leave day after tomorrow. Only a day to prepare for the voyage of a lifetime!

"I think day after tomorrow should suit me, Mr. Rose," she said cautiously.

"It will be hard to explain to my family, and especially Neville, my publisher" she said with a smile. "But I will fob them off somehow. It will not do to tell them I am on an expedition to find the Blood of Goolah."

"But how will we travel? How long will it take us?" she asked curiously. "And what would be needed on a trip like this?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:34, Mon 10 Jan 2005.

"I confess, I was suffering from malaria in the jungle.  I wasn't the most coherent, but James was a steady chap, I can't see that it can be too difficult to follow. "  Basil Rose said.  "I think it will all make sense to me when I can see it again. You must see the giant heads.  They're astonishing."  He broke off, musing, then drifted back to reality to answer questions.

"I should think...stout boots, a good walking stick, Aegyptian cotton ahem...clothes...plenty of quinine....I shall make enquiries, but I am certain there will be a ship going that way.  It will probably take, hmm, I don't know, weeks ?  Perhaps less, to get there, perhaps days.  The last time I was on a ship, it was a tea clipper that creaked and wallowed all over the water !  We shall contact you with the details, Miss Trevors, if that suits you ?"

"Of course, let me know when you've fixed everything! It will take me a day to tie up all the loose ends here. It's not everyday that I get a chance to go on a trip to the Amazon!"

Marianne couldn't help beaming at Basil excitedly.

"I really can't thank you enough for your generous offer Mr. Rose."

"Pish-tosh, Miss Trevors, it is the least an old man can do,"  Basil Rose, with a blush coming to his plump cheeks. "We shall take our leave of you then, if we may, to see about the matters.  Good day to you; I shall have a messenger come with the information, in short order."

He rose somewhat ponderously, and assumed his umbrella, which was used a bit like a cane at times.

Once out on the street, he moved along at a reasonably fast clip.  "Bugger,"  he muttered to Jason, well out of earshot of Marianne, "Bugger...but might not be so bad.  Not a bad looker, wot ?  Well, no matter,  I've the money.  Get your gear and call on me at the Compass Rose Club, off the Strand, in the morning.  My card,"  He flourished one to Jason, producing it with the flair of a magician. "I shall go round the docks and acquire passage.  Oh, and pick up some firearms, if you can, with plenty of ammunition."

Marianne, however, still had the map.

Jason smiled at Mariannes enthusiam.  She was certainly expressing much of the excitement that he himself felt.  In fact, he was quiet taken with her natural charmingness.  After a few simple pleasantaries and at Basil's lead, he said, "I'm truly looking forward to this trip with you Miss Trevors."  The sentiment was very genuine.

Once out on the street, Basil moved along at a reasonably fast clip.  "Bugger,"  he muttered to Jason, well out of earshot of Marianne, "Bugger...but might not be so bad.  Not a bad looker, wot ?"

Jason gave Basil a quiet look, he agreed, "She is easy on the eye, and pleasant on the mind and soul.".  Her Jason pasued for a moment and nodded, he went on quietly, "I agree, having her along will be very beneficial."

Basil cntinued, "Well, no matter,  I've the money.  Get your gear and call on me at the Compass Rose Club, off the Strand, in the morning.  My card,"  He flourished one to Jason, producing it with the flair of a magician. "I shall go round the docks and acquire passage.  Oh, and pick up some firearms, if you can, with plenty of ammunition."

Jason took the card and checked the details and gave a nod of aquiessence.  Though his eyebrow arched at the mention of firearms.  He said cautiously, "What type of weaponry do you suggest and prefer?.... And, erm... that might need a little more cash than I'm carrying just now.... such items and vendors don't usually accept checks... but, I'll do what I can."  Asking for the cash by implication, Jason grinned with his youthful expression.  "Consider it done anyhow."

(OOC: Back to "Jason Swift Slows Down"?)

OOC:  Marianne has the rest of the day to do any actions she may like.

At 8:15 the next morning, someone was relentlessly ringing the bell. Outside was a man in a rather plain black suit, holding a packet of the sort messengers carry.  He was unusual in that he had a black patch over one eye, and a hardbitten expression that suggested he was a veteran of the Great War.

"Miss Trevors,"  he said, perfectly politely, though there was some Cockney in his accent, "Mr. Rose has sent me with your documents and papers. I am his valet, Carson.  He asks that you bring the map and the book.  The ship departs this afternoon from Dover and I have been sent to escort you to it, and take care of the luggage and transportation, if you would like, Miss.  Shall I wait here ?  I've got the car along the street."  He indicated a roadster of good quality parked along the kerb, just down the street.

"This afternoon!" Marianne exclaimed in surprise. She hadn't expected everything to be arranged so quickly. But she had spent the day talking to her agent and convincing friends and family that she was still sane. All that was left to do was to leave.

"Of course, thank you Carson. It's all packed and ready," she said, indicating a suitcase that stood in a corner. She didn't relinquish the small valise with the map and her writer's notebook in which she had recorded every detail of her unforgettable day.

With a last look around the flat, Marianne prepared to leave.

"Very good, Miss, and you are quite welcome,"  Carson replied, automatically going to pick up her valise, which he carried effortlessly to the roadster and placed in the boot, where two more bags of a sedate masculine variety were lurking. He opened the door for Marianne to place herself on the leather seat, shut the door, and then he assumed goggles, or more properly, goggle, and driving gloves.  Without ado he set off towards the south, moving the car smoothly along its gears and driving with confidence.  Her scarf whipping in the wind, the sunlight sparkling off the chrome and the rumble of the engine as they motored to Dover was quite an experience.

The docks had the aroma of the sea, fish and manufacturing concerns, but she could not help but find the small liner that awaited to be trim, bright with fresh paint, and singularly charming.  A plump woman in a red dress and red-feathered hat was proceeding along the walkway to board the ship, her maidservant laboring behind her with a heavy set of bags.  It appeared boarding was permitted.  At the base of the walkway a swarthy, short man in a white uniform was standing, with a clipboard tucked under one arm.  Carson parked the roadster and went round to open her door. "One moment, Miss, I will carry the bags."

Marianne alighted from the roadster and surveyed the scene curiously. The smell of the docks was not the most welcoming, but the gleaming ship and the expanse of blue behind it reassured her. She observed the comings and goings on the dock, her writer's mind taking notes as she wandered up to the crew member with a clipboard to inquire if Mr. Rose and his nephew had boarded yet.

Marianne strode up to the man with the clipboard. He had pleasant cocker-spaniel eyes and a calm smile.  "Yes, Miss Trevors," he said, with a distinct Spanish accent, once she had presented the papers Carson had given her.  "They boarded about a half an hour ago.  Please go up; there will be someone there to take you to your stateroom.  Welcome aboard.  The ship will leave the dock at 3 pm, promptly."  He made a check on his clipboard after she had gone up.

At the top of the walkway there were three men in white uniforms, with less gold braid than the one with the clipboard.  Carson carried the bags up after her, displaying surprising strength.  On deck, one of the uniformed men hurried up to lead her to her stateroom. He too seemed to be a Spaniard, and had a heavy accent.

It was a nicely sized and well-appointed cabin, with two portholes to the port
side.  A typewriter sat waiting for her on the small desk.  Carson set down her
valise and enquired, "May I be of any further assistance, Miss Trevors ?"

(feel free to go to the Queen of Emerald Bay thread, if you wish)
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:39, Fri 21 Jan 2005.