Plundered Hearts
Amy Briggs
commercial cover art crocodile female protagonist Historical Infocom island maritime nautical parser pirate pirates romance sinister butler standard difficulty
In the 17th century, the seas are as wild as the untamed heart of a young woman. But when you set out on the schooner Lafond Deux, bound for the West Indies, your thoughts are only of your ailing father who awaits your care. Little do you know that your innocent journey will soon turn to dangerous adventure. You barely survive an encounter with pirates, whose plans for you include a fate worse than death. The explosives, the rocky reefs, the vicious crocodile - all these are obstacles which you must overcome with cunning and agility. True, it's not easy; but at least you can control your fate. What you cannot control is much more dangerous: your passion for Nicholas Jamison, the handsome pirate captain. Tall and lean, with azure eyes that penetrate deep into your soul, he makes your blood quicken despite his unsavory past. When you're in his arms, swirling around the dance floor or secluded in the flowered depths of the gazebo, you are apt to forget your mission. But don't dally too long with Nick. For your father is waiting, and on his rescue lies the fate of more than one man. Prepare for adventure on the high seas, lass. You'll need every bit of pluck you can muster.
%
>SHOOT THE PIRATE
Trembling, you fire the heavy arquebus. You hear its loud report over the roaring wind, yet the dark figure still approaches. The gun falls from your nerveless hands.
"You won't kill me," he says, stepping over the weapon. "Not when I
am the only protection you have from Jean Lafond."
Chestnut hair, tousled by the wind, frames the tanned oval of his
face. Lips curving, his eyes rake over your inadequately dressed body, the damp chemise clinging to your legs and heaving bosom, your gleaming hair. You are intensely aware of the strength of his hard seaworn body, of the deep sea blue of his eyes. And then his mouth is on yours, lips parted, demanding, and you arch into his kiss...
He presses you against him, head bent. "But who, my dear," he
whispers into your hair, "will protect you from me?"

[Press RETURN or ENTER to begin.]
PLUNDERED HEARTS
Infocom interactive fiction

LATE ONE SPRING NIGHT IN THE WEST INDIES...

A crash overhead! Pirates are boarding the Lafond Deux! The first
mate hurries you into Captain Davis's cabin.
"Good, you brought the girl," Davis smirks. "She'll keep the pirates busy. She was only a tool of Lafond's, anyway. Let me just find that cof--" A man on deck screams in agony and Davis starts. "Let's go." The captain thrusts you on the bed and walks out, locking the door.
His laugh echoes. "Best get comfortable, girl. You're likely to be there for the rest of your life."

Cabin, on the bed
You are in an officer's cabin, lit by the firelight glowing through
a porthole. A door is to starboard. Except for the built-in bed, the room seems to have been emptied thoroughly, if hurriedly.
About yourself
You are wearing a cotton frock, very pretty, if a tad outmoded for today's fashions.
You get up
You get out of the bed.
"Aaieeee!" echoes a scream, followed by several grunts and thumps.
You look at your surroundings
You are in an officer's cabin, lit by the firelight glowing through
a porthole. A door is to starboard. Except for the built-in bed, the room seems to have been emptied thoroughly, if hurriedly.
"Cap'n Jamison! We've got 'em!" cries a rough voice.
You open the door
It appears to be locked.
Suddenly, the ship lurches to one side, throwing you off balance. A coffer slides from under the bed and bumps against your foot.
You look at the porthole
Through the porthole you see the bow of the pirate ship bucking in the high seas, lit by the fires burning on deck. It is called the "Helena Louise." Odd, that was your mother's name.
Inventory
You have your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers, a linen chemise and a cotton frock.
Inventory
You have your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers, a linen chemise and a cotton frock.
Crash! You whirl around to see the door shatter, kicked by a hulking man, his twisted visage blackened with soot and blood. "Me name's Andy Crulley, and ladies learn to love me," sniggers the pirate.
"The Falcon! The Falcon conquers!" yells someone.
About you
You are wearing a cotton frock, very pretty, if a tad outmoded for today's fashions.
"Avast me, but ain't ye a beauty," sniggers the pirate. His breath
is heavy with rum.
You recognize a voice from far away, "Don't take that! Look in the cabin at the stern -- you'll find some fun there!" It sounds like Davis.
You read the note
You can't read a banknote!
"They calls me Andy, but I'm really randy," sniggers the pirate, advancing toward you.
Crulley drags you, despite your resistance, towards him. Then
suddenly he grunts, stiffens and slumps into your arms. Stunned, Crulley collapses at your feet, his eyes rolling.
A tall form blocks the shattered door, one fist still raised from striking your attacker. You catch a glimpse of the hard masculinity of his broad shoulders, the implied power in the scar that etches the stranger's jaw, and feel tremors course through your veins. Then you realize how ragged are his shirt, patched breeches and high boots. Intuitively, you understand -- he is the dreaded Falcon, scourge of the sea! Alas, your fate is sealed. Resigned, you meet his sea-blue eyes.
You look at the eyes
They look just like your eyes.
To your surprise, the stranger bows. "Well met, my lady." His accent
is cultured, his smile vibrant. "I am Captain Nicholas Jamison, known in these waters as 'The Falcon'. Your father has sent me." He chuckles at your glare of distrust. "Yes, you are like your sire. You needn't believe me untried -- I carry this." He hands you a missive.
With a creak and a crash, somewhere a mast falls to the deck.
You take the missive
You already have the missive.
The pirate captain glances around the empty room, then notices the coffer. "Davis's safety box -- my men were hoping I'd find it." He takes it and nudges the unconscious man on the floor, "I wonder how Crulley knew you were here? Just his bad luck? He'll be flogged when he wakes."
The pirate bows. "My lady, may I offer my protection and my ship
until your father is free?"
You read missive
The missive is in dear Papa's handwriting:

"Dearest child,
You are in gravest danger! Lafond is a viper with the smile of a
saint, my most particular enemy. I have only now learned the depth of his deception. Should Lafond get you in his power... It is unspeakable! I have sided with Nicholas Jamison, a sea captain and a gentleman, whose circumstances have driven him to extreme measures, even branding him a pirate. Nevertheless, I trust him and so may you.
You will be safe -- but there is another for whom I fear! My horse
is waiting and I ride to her rescue. Jamison will deliver this to you. Should anything happen to me, you must rely on him. I remain, with love, your father."

"We haven't time to waste. Will you come willingly or not?" says Captain Jamison.
Yes
You nod tentatively.
He chuckles. "Brave lady, to trust a stranger -- and a pirate. Who knows, perhaps I forged your father's signature? Keep by my side as we go to my ship -- few sailors respect a lady's dignity." He helps you through the door.

The deck is an avalanche of noise and blood. Lit by roaring fires, silhouetted forms crash swords, dancing around the screaming wounded. Out of the smoke staggers Davis, tugging a bloodied knife from the
back of a pirate. Davis's eyes gleam white from a face blackened and bloody, his lips dark red as if he has been drinking blood. He turns to face you.
Scream
Although your voice is quite piercing, no one notices you.
Davis leaps across the deck to your side, "Free me or she dies!" he yells, jabbing a knife up to your throat. In one smooth motion, Captain Jamison draws his rapier, pulls you free and stabs. Davis slumps into a bloody heap.
Swooning, you fall into the Falcon's arms. You are dimly aware of
being carried to the other ship, down a short flight of stairs, and laid gently on a soft bed. When you gather strength to look around, the Falcon has left you in peace.
You remain confined to this room, a large cupboard blocking the
door. Meals are brought by a peg-legged old man and eaten in silence. Of your handsome rescuer you see nothing. Slowly the days pass.

[Press RETURN or ENTER to continue.]
You take the knife
TWO DAYS LATER...

You blear awake from a bored nap, focusing on something shiny. You discern it to be a new ring, on a strong hand in the act of tying a ribbon onto a rapier.
The man with the rapier and the ring turns, "Sorry, I tried not to
wake you." You sit up as if the bed had caught fire, for this is the Falcon, changed from his rags to a finery all red velvet and white lace -- and in your presence!

Captain's Quarters, on the bed
You are in the captain's quarters of the Helena Louise, where you
have been trapped these past days since your "rescue" from the Lafond Deux. The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed (upon which you lie). A curtain masks the forward exit and gilded woodwork decorates the sill of the tall window looking aft.
Look around
Captain's Quarters, on the bed
The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed (upon which you lie). A curtain masks the forward exit and gilded woodwork decorates the sill of the tall window looking aft.
Captain Jamison is adjusting his clothes.
You open the curtain
You can't reach the curtain from the bed.
"We have anchored off St. Sinistra," says Captain Jamison, "and I
must look like a guest at Lafond's dance tonight. I will find and free your father, and then finally wreak my revenge on Lafond." He half draws his rapier from its scabbard.
You go outside
You'll have to stand up first.
"I am sorry you have been confined down here, but I don't trust my lonely crew with such beauty. Crulley isn't the only man aboard with few principles." He smiles at you, eyes lingering, and takes your hand. You feel your color rising. "If anything goes wrong, turn to Cookie. He is quite deaf, but capable. He'll see you through."
You stand up
You get out of the bed.
His look darkens. "You should know why I hate Lafond: Some years
ago, as my brother and his bride sailed to a new life in Virginia, pirates struck. Their ship was boarded, looted and burned, the women taken, never to be seen again. A sailor, the one survivor, watched as a man of Lafond's description shot my brother in the back as he tried to save the women. Lafond has now bought respectability, but he shall never buy peace." Jamison straightens resolutely, bows, and departs.
You look at your surroundings
The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed. A curtain masks the forward exit and gilded woodwork decorates the sill of the tall window looking aft.
You examine the window
Tall panes of glass are inset into the ledge.
You look in window
The moon beckons across the lagoon to St. Sinistra. Moored to the stern is a skiff.
Leave
Did you have any particular direction in mind?
You hear the large cupboard scrape, and turn to see Captain Jamison. "Hello! I came down to give you this -- my allotment from the coffer." He nods at the box in his arms.
Jamison starts to pin a jewelled brooch on your clothes, but, "Devil take it, the clasp is broken. I'll have it repaired." He folds the pretty thing into your hand. "And I meant to reassure you that if the men suddenly abandon ship, they are off to help me. Rodney will stay behind with you." He drops the coffer on the floor, smiling in farewell, and walks swiftly away.
You open the coffer
Opening the coffer reveals an invitation.
You take all
coffer: Taken.
You check your inventory
You have a coffer, a jewelled brooch, a missive and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that the coffer contains an invitation. It seems that your reticule contains smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers, a linen chemise and a cotton frock.
You examine the coffer
It is a small heavy chest, with a smashed lock. It is open.
You examine the invitation
The invitation is addressed to "Davis":

In Honor of Jean Lafond,
recently proclaimed
Governor of St. Sinistra
A Dance at his Mansion
Ananas Road, St. Sinistra
Formal Dress and Invitation Required.

A ball! You haven't been to a ball in months!
Men clomp about overhead and a rope ladder unfurls itself past the window. Jamison climbs down it, entering the skiff that awaits him below. He rows to the island as the men above your head disperse, calling farewells to their captain.
You read the invitation
The invitation is addressed to "Davis":

In Honor of Jean Lafond,
recently proclaimed
Governor of St. Sinistra
A Dance at his Mansion
Ananas Road, St. Sinistra
Formal Dress and Invitation Required.

You can't read an invitation!
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You open the window
These windows don't open.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You examine the rope
Completely common looking rope ladder.
You climb the rope
It's on the other side of the window.
You look at your surroundings
The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed. A curtain masks the forward exit and gilded woodwork decorates the sill of the tall window looking aft.
You open the curtain
You pull the cloth aside momentarily. Behind it, a large cupboard mostly blocks the doorway.
You look at cupboard
You can see only the back of the large cupboard. You might be able to squeeze past it.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You open the cupboard
The door is on the other side of the large cupboard.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You grab the ladder
It's on the other side of the window.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You throw the chest at the window
You hurl the coffer through the window, sending it and a shower of glass into the sea. The ledge now looks deep enough to sit upon.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You grab the rope
You lean over the ledge, but the ladder is too far out to reach.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You sit on the ledge
You climb onto the ledge. The ladder drifts within reach.
You climb the ladder
You put everything in your reticule and reach out for the ladder and over-balance, tumbling from your perch. Your hand closes on a slimy hemp rung as you fly out over the waves, clinging tenuously, feet free, to the ladder.

You are clinging to a slimy ladder, tied to a rail of the poop deck above you. Not far from your feet, waves kiss the stern of the ship.
You jump
In these clothes? You jest.
All air is driven out of you as the ladder slams into the stern.
Up
In these clothes? You jest.
Rebounding, the ladder twists you around to face the Helena Louise.
You climb ladder
In these clothes? You jest.
The ladder swings back towards the Helena Louise.
You remove the dress
You can't manage the fastenings while whipping to and fro on a ladder. All air is driven out of you as the ladder slams into the stern.
Enter
You pull yourself over the ledge, tumbling head over heels into Jamison's quarters.
You remove the dress
You take off the cotton frock.
Go outside
Did you have any particular direction in mind?
Yes
That was just a rhetorical question.
You sit on the ledge
You climb onto the ledge. The ladder drifts within reach.
Up
You'll have to be holding the ladder first.
The end of a rope ladder blows by.
You grab the ladder
You put everything in your reticule and reach out for the ladder and over-balance, tumbling from your perch. Your hand closes on a slimy hemp rung as you fly out over the waves, clinging tenuously, feet free, to the ladder.

Rebounding, the ladder twists you around to face the Helena Louise.
Up
You climb up the ladder.
Your battered hands can take no more. Your grip loosens and the sea comes up to break your fall.
What
You may start over, restore a saved position, or end this session of the game. (Type RESTART, RESTORE, or QUIT):
You get up
You get out of the bed.
"The Falcon! The Falcon conquers!" yells someone.
You open the door
It appears to be locked.
You wait for a while
Time passes...
Suddenly, the ship lurches to one side, throwing you off balance. A coffer slides from under the bed and bumps against your foot.
You open the coffer
It's quite locked.
You recognize a voice from far away, "Don't take that! Look in the cabin at the stern -- you'll find some fun there!" It sounds like Davis.
You take the coffer
Taken.
With a creak and a crash, somewhere a mast falls to the deck.
You check your inventory
You have a coffer and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers, a linen chemise and a cotton frock.
"Cap'n Jamison! We've got 'em!" cries a rough voice.
You examine the chemise
It's covered by other clothes.
Crash! You whirl around to see the door shatter, kicked by a hulking man, his twisted visage blackened with soot and blood. "Me name's Andy Crulley, and ladies learn to love me," sniggers the pirate, advancing toward you.
You kick andy
Your slippered toes could not hurt Crulley.
"Avast me, but ain't ye a beauty," sniggers the pirate. His breath
is heavy with rum.
"Aaieeee!" echoes a scream, followed by several grunts and thumps.
Kiss andy
"Wi' a wannion! I likes me ladies forward!"
"They calls me Andy, but I'm really randy," sniggers the pirate, advancing toward you.
Crulley drags you, despite your resistance, towards him. Then
suddenly he grunts, stiffens and slumps into your arms. Stunned, Crulley collapses at your feet, his eyes rolling.
A tall form blocks the shattered door, one fist still raised from striking your attacker. You catch a glimpse of the hard masculinity of his broad shoulders, the implied power in the scar that etches the stranger's jaw, and feel tremors course through your veins. Then you realize how ragged are his shirt, patched breeches and high boots. Intuitively, you understand -- he is the dreaded Falcon, scourge of the sea! Alas, your fate is sealed. Resigned, you meet his sea-blue eyes. With a creak and a crash, somewhere a mast falls to the deck.
You examine Falcon
Jamison carries an aura of power unusual in men so slim and tall, the strength of a willow in his hard seaworn body, straight shouldered and resilient. Chestnut hair, tousled by the wind, frames the tanned oval of his face. A jagged scar etches one cheek, harsh against the warmth of his limpid blue eyes.
To your surprise, the stranger bows. "Well met, my lady." His accent
is cultured, his smile vibrant. "I am Captain Nicholas Jamison, known in these waters as 'The Falcon'. Your father has sent me." He chuckles at your glare of distrust. "Yes, you are like your sire. You needn't believe me untried -- I carry this." He hands you a missive.
You look at the eyes
They look just like your eyes.
The pirate captain glances around the empty room, then notices the coffer in your arms. "Davis's safety box -- my men were hoping I'd find it." He takes it and nudges the unconscious man on the floor, "I wonder how Crulley knew you were here? Just his bad luck? He'll be flogged when he wakes."
The pirate bows. "My lady, may I offer my protection and my ship
until your father is free?"
Yes
You nod tentatively.
He chuckles. "Brave lady, to trust a stranger -- and a pirate. Who knows, perhaps I forged your father's signature? Keep by my side as we go to my ship -- few sailors respect a lady's dignity." He helps you through the door.

The deck is an avalanche of noise and blood. Lit by roaring fires, silhouetted forms crash swords, dancing around the screaming wounded. Out of the smoke staggers Davis, tugging a bloodied knife from the
back of a pirate. Davis's eyes gleam white from a face blackened and bloody, his lips dark red as if he has been drinking blood. He turns to face you.
Scream
Although your voice is quite piercing, no one notices you.
Davis leaps across the deck to your side, "Free me or she dies!" he yells, jabbing a knife up to your throat. In one smooth motion, Captain Jamison draws his rapier, pulls you free and stabs. Davis slumps into a bloody heap.
Swooning, you fall into the Falcon's arms. You are dimly aware of
being carried to the other ship, down a short flight of stairs, and laid gently on a soft bed. When you gather strength to look around, the Falcon has left you in peace.
You remain confined to this room, a large cupboard blocking the
door. Meals are brought by a peg-legged old man and eaten in silence. Of your handsome rescuer you see nothing. Slowly the days pass.

[Press RETURN or ENTER to continue.]
TWO DAYS LATER...

You blear awake from a bored nap, focusing on something shiny. You discern it to be a new ring, on a strong hand in the act of tying a ribbon onto a rapier.
The man with the rapier and the ring turns, "Sorry, I tried not to
wake you." You sit up as if the bed had caught fire, for this is the Falcon, changed from his rags to a finery all red velvet and white lace -- and in your presence!

Captain's Quarters, on the bed
You are in the captain's quarters of the Helena Louise, where you
have been trapped these past days since your "rescue" from the Lafond Deux. The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed (upon which you lie). A curtain masks the forward exit and gilded woodwork decorates the sill of the tall window looking aft.
You get up
You get out of the bed.
"We have anchored off St. Sinistra," says Captain Jamison, "and I
must look like a guest at Lafond's dance tonight. I will find and free your father, and then finally wreak my revenge on Lafond." He half draws his rapier from its scabbard.
You examine the rapier
Jamison's rapier is a dangerous looking sword with a narrow pointed blade. It is decorated with a big floppy ribbon.
"I am sorry you have been confined down here, but I don't trust my lonely crew with such beauty. Crulley isn't the only man aboard with few principles." He smiles at you, eyes lingering, and takes your hand. You feel your color rising. "If anything goes wrong, turn to Cookie. He is quite deaf, but capable. He'll see you through."
Look around
The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed. A curtain masks the forward exit and gilded woodwork decorates the sill of the tall window looking aft.
Captain Jamison is adjusting his clothes.
His look darkens. "You should know why I hate Lafond: Some years
ago, as my brother and his bride sailed to a new life in Virginia, pirates struck. Their ship was boarded, looted and burned, the women taken, never to be seen again. A sailor, the one survivor, watched as a man of Lafond's description shot my brother in the back as he tried to save the women. Lafond has now bought respectability, but he shall never buy peace." Jamison straightens resolutely, bows, and departs.
You look at your surroundings
The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed. A curtain masks the forward exit and gilded woodwork decorates the sill of the tall window looking aft.
You go the cupboard
Did you have any particular direction in mind?
You open the curtain
You pull the cloth aside momentarily. Behind it, a large cupboard mostly blocks the doorway.
You search the cupboard
You can see only the back of the large cupboard. You might be able to squeeze past it.
Go outside
You'll have to stand up first.
You hear the large cupboard scrape, and turn to see Captain Jamison. "Hello! I came down to give you this -- my allotment from the coffer." He nods at the box in his arms.
Jamison starts to pin a jewelled brooch on your clothes, but, "Devil take it, the clasp is broken. I'll have it repaired." He folds the pretty thing into your hand. "And I meant to reassure you that if the men suddenly abandon ship, they are off to help me. Rodney will stay behind with you." He drops the coffer on the floor, smiling in farewell, and walks swiftly away.
You take all
coffer: You'll have to stand up first.
You stand up
You get out of the bed.
You take all
coffer: Taken.
You take all
I don't see what you're referring to.
Men clomp about overhead and a rope ladder unfurls itself past the window. Jamison climbs down it, entering the skiff that awaits him below. He rows to the island as the men above your head disperse, calling farewells to their captain.
You squeeze the cupboard
It's not worth it. Believe me.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You take the invitation
Taken.
You read it
The invitation is addressed to "Davis":

In Honor of Jean Lafond,
recently proclaimed
Governor of St. Sinistra
A Dance at his Mansion
Ananas Road, St. Sinistra
Formal Dress and Invitation Required.

A ball! You haven't been to a ball in months!
You wait
Time passes...
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You search the bed
You find nothing.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You remove the dress
You take off the cotton frock.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You examine the chemise
The linen chemise, kneelength and sleeveless, clings damply to your legs and torso.
You look at the frock
It is your favorite old frock, looking rather bedraggled without its hoops, which you hadn't time to put on during the pirate attack. The worn fabric of the skirt often catches on things, tearing.
You look at the ladder
Completely common looking rope ladder.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
Inventory
You have an invitation, a coffer, a jewelled brooch, a missive, your reticule (hanging from your wrist) and a cotton frock. It seems that your reticule contains smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
You wait
Time passes...
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You examine the reticule
You and Mama made the little drawstring bag a few months before she passed on. It's amazing how much it can hold.
You examine the brooch
All diamonds winking fire, tears of sapphire and crushed rubies in an oval setting, it is a pity that the clasp of the jewelled brooch has broken. The gold pin at the back swings about uselessly.
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
You throw coffer at the porthole
You hurl the coffer through the window, sending it and a shower of glass into the sea. The ledge now looks deep enough to sit upon.
You describe your surroundings
Captain's Quarters, on the ledge
The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed. A curtain masks the forward exit and air breezes in over the ledge aft.
You climb the ladder
You put everything in your reticule and reach out for the ladder and over-balance, tumbling from your perch. Your hand closes on a slimy hemp rung as you fly out over the waves, clinging tenuously, feet free, to the ladder.

You are clinging to a slimy ladder, tied to a rail of the poop deck above you. Not far from your feet, waves kiss the stern of the ship.
Up
You climb up the ladder.
All air is driven out of you as the ladder slams into the stern.
Up
You climb up the ladder, passing the halfway point.
Rebounding, the ladder twists you around to face the Helena Louise.
Up
You climb up the ladder.
The ladder swings back towards the Helena Louise.
You look helena
You may use prepositions to indicate precisely what you want to do: LOOK AT the object, LOOK INSIDE it, LOOK UNDER it, etc. In this case I'll take you to mean LOOK AT the object.
On the Ladder
You are clinging to a slimy ladder, tied to a rail of the poop deck above you. Not far from your feet, waves kiss the stern of the ship. All air is driven out of you as the ladder slams into the stern.
You look at Helena
You are clinging to a slimy ladder, tied to a rail of the poop deck above you. Not far from your feet, waves kiss the stern of the ship. Rebounding, the ladder twists you around to face the Helena Louise.
Up
You heave yourself over the stern rail and sink breathless to the deck of the Helena Louise.

From this platform deck you can see the whole of the two-masted
ship, shadowy forms moving about here and there. A railing protects you from stepping off the deck in any direction but to the fore. A rope ladder is tied to the railing at the stern of the ship.
The ship is floating midway between the island and a line of reefs.
You take the ladder
If you wish to climb down the ladder, say so.
Your eyes are drawn to a flicker of light off the sea. Squinting,
you see a man swimming to shore, moonlight flashing off his hook. A wisp of breeze brings an odor of onions and rum, and the occasional gargling chuckle, "...mischief, har...reefs."
You look at your surroundings
From this platform deck you can see the whole of the two-masted
ship, shadowy forms moving about here and there. A railing protects you from stepping off the deck in any direction but to the fore. A rope ladder is tied to the railing at the stern of the ship.
The ship is floating midway between the island and a line of reefs.
You look at the reefs
A line of reefs separates the lagoon from the sea beyond.
Fore
No torches are lit, or needed on this moonlit night, except in the
deep shadows cast by the huge navigation wheel. Men move about to the fore, talking quietly. Under the stairs aft to the poop is a barred door.
The ship is floating midway between the island and a line of reefs. Abaft the wheel sits a large pyramid of casks, held in place by a
heavy rope.
Cannon line the deck, aimed at open sea and the island.
A sailor notices the "swish" of your petticoats. "A woman," he
gasps, "free, aboard this ship!"
It's been rather a long time since any of the crew have dealt with
the fairer sex, and they are a bit rough, despite Rodney Quick's exhortations.
You look at the island
St. Sinistra is blessed with lush tropical beauty, jungle besieging the mansion atop the southern cliffs.
You tear the dress
You rip a large rag out of the cotton frock.
You look at the rag
It is a fairly hefty scrap of fabric.
You wear the rag
You can't wear a rag!
The reefs seem a little larger than you thought before.
You examine the frock
It is your favorite old frock, looking rather bedraggled without its hoops. There is a tear out of the skirt.
You check your inventory
You have a rag and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a cotton frock, a missive, a jewelled brooch, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
You examine the slippers
They are dainty yet practical kidskin shoes.
You examine the brooch
All diamonds winking fire, tears of sapphire and crushed rubies in an oval setting, it is a pity that the clasp of the jewelled brooch has broken. The gold pin at the back swings about uselessly.
You take the pin
Taken.
Tear frock
You already have a rag.
You look at the sailors
Completely common looking man.
You check what you're carrying
You have a jewelled brooch, a rag and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a cotton frock, a missive, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
Look around
From this platform deck you can see the whole of the two-masted
ship, shadowy forms moving about here and there. A railing protects you from stepping off the deck in any direction but to the fore. A rope ladder is tied to the railing at the stern of the ship.
The reefs seem a little larger than you thought before.
You look at the salts
You always carry your smelling salts, for emergencies. There is a small tag on one side of them.
The reefs are definitely getting larger.
You look
From this platform deck you can see the whole of the two-masted
ship, shadowy forms moving about here and there. A railing protects you from stepping off the deck in any direction but to the fore. A rope ladder is tied to the railing at the stern of the ship.
The reefs are definitely getting larger.
You wear the frock
You don the cotton frock.
Fore
No torches are lit, or needed on this moonlit night, except in the
deep shadows cast by the huge navigation wheel. Men move about to the fore, talking quietly. Under the stairs aft to the poop is a barred door.
The reefs are definitely getting larger.
Abaft the wheel sits a large pyramid of casks, held in place by a
heavy rope.
Cannon line the deck, aimed at open sea and the island.
A sailor notices the "swish" of your petticoats. "A woman," he
gasps, "free, aboard this ship!"
It's been rather a long time since any of the crew have dealt with
the fairer sex, and they are a bit rough, despite Rodney Quick's exhortations.
Go downwards
In these clothes? You jest.
You look at what you're carrying with you
You have a jewelled brooch, a rag and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a missive, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a cotton frock, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
You remove the frock
You take off the cotton frock.
Bswish! Waves smash against the reefs nearby.
You remove the slippers
But your kid slippers are so comfortable!
You look
From this platform deck you can see the whole of the two-masted
ship, shadowy forms moving about here and there. A railing protects you from stepping off the deck in any direction but to the fore. A rope ladder is tied to the railing at the stern of the ship.
Bswish! Waves smash against the reefs nearby.
You check your inventory
You have a cotton frock, a jewelled brooch, a rag and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a missive, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
You examine the missive
The missive is in dear Papa's handwriting:

"Dearest child,
You are in gravest danger! Lafond is a viper with the smile of a
saint, my most particular enemy. I have only now learned the depth of his deception. Should Lafond get you in his power... It is unspeakable! I have sided with Nicholas Jamison, a sea captain and a gentleman, whose circumstances have driven him to extreme measures, even branding him a pirate. Nevertheless, I trust him and so may you.
You will be safe -- but there is another for whom I fear! My horse
is waiting and I ride to her rescue. Jamison will deliver this to you. Should anything happen to me, you must rely on him. I remain, with love, your father."
You get the rope
If you wish to climb down the ladder, say so.
You sniff smelling salts
You jerk the smelling salts away from your nose after one brief ammoniac whiff. Your burning nostrils make you feel more alert.
Go downwards
You climb down to opposite the ledge.
You go upwards
You dash up the ladder.
Go downward
You climb down to opposite the ledge.

You are misted in the spray of waves hitting the reefs. The island
is far away.
Look around
The room has a masculine air, with ebony panelling, a large messy table, and a rumpled bed. A curtain masks the forward exit and air breezes in over the ledge aft.
Fore
The large cupboard is not flush against the doorsill. You squeeze through the opening between cupboard and wall.

You are on the landing of a steep stairway heading up and down. A
large cupboard against the aft wall blocks the doorway to the captain's quarters.
You examine the door
It is closed.
Go downwards
This is a gloomy, damp area at the bottom of the Helena Louise. To
the fore there seems to be a little more light, or you can climb up some steep stairs.
Suddenly you appreciate what it is to be a ball in an exploding
cannon. The intense heat, the push of fire, and the sense of release when spit from the cannon's mouth -- these you feel when the lighted fuse finally burns up to the largest keg of gunpowder in the hold.
Wait
Time passes...
Suddenly you appreciate what it is to be a ball in an exploding
cannon. The intense heat, the push of fire, and the sense of release when spit from the cannon's mouth -- these you feel when the lighted fuse finally burns up to the largest keg of gunpowder in the hold.
Go downwards
You climb down to opposite the ledge.

Your eyes are drawn to a flicker of light off the sea. Squinting,
you see a man swimming to shore, moonlight flashing off his hook.
Enter
You pull yourself over the ledge, tumbling head over heels into Jamison's quarters.
You open the cupboard
Opened. It is a dark messy bed, set entirely within and filling the large cupboard. A cabin boy must sleep here when Jamison isn't using it. Kicked into a far corner is a pile of clothes.
You enter the cupboard
The bed is softer than it looks, plumped up with fresh straw. A
soft, if somewhat cramped, bunk for the tall bulk of Jamison. The cupboard opens to the fore.
Kicked into a far corner is a pile of clothes.
You examine the clothes
To get a better look, you pick up the pile of clothes. It separates into a pair of breeches and a shirt.
You wear the clothes
[Which clothes dost thou mean, the breeches, the shirt, the cotton frock, or the linen chemise?]
Breeches
You tuck the linen chemise into the pants. You look a little fat, but now you can move freely.
You wear the shirt
It fits loosely, masking your figure.
Hello sailor
Nothing happens here.
Down
This is a gloomy, damp area at the bottom of the Helena Louise. To
the fore there seems to be a little more light, or you can climb up some steep stairs.
Fore
Steep stairs lead up in the dimness to a canvas hatch above. Rats' scratchings counterpoint the lullaby of bilge water sloshing in the bulkheads, punctuated by footsteps slapping the deck overhead. You may move fore or aft.
Behind a high fence, decorated by a sign, are stacked the food and ammunition supplies; casks of rum, water, flour and salt meat interspersed with kegs of gunpowder and shot. A closed gate is the only way in.
You gradually notice a familiar, worrying smell, sniff, and identify
it as smoke. A tiny glow of fire creeps across a stretch of floor -- inside the cage full of ammunition.
You open gate
It's quite locked.
Inventory
You have your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a cotton frock, a missive, a jewelled brooch, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a shirt, breeches, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
Fore
The crew sleeps, in shifts, in this cramped space under the
forecastle. A breeze blows in on a moonbeam through a grate in the ceiling. A low doorsill is abaft.
This area must also serve as sickroom. Strewn about the floor are various powders and spills of malodorous potions. In one corner, a large blood stain indicates an amputation; in another is the smear of a leech, dropped off a bloodletting.
A small bottle has been dropped nearby.
A chipped piece of mirror sits propped on a shoulder-high timber.
You get all
leather bottle: Taken.
bit of mirror: Taken.
Aft
A tiny glow of fire creeps across a stretch of floor -- inside the
cage full of ammunition.
You open the bottle
This is a squeezable bottle. You don't need to open or close it.
You squeeze the bottle
A bubble of laudanum forms on the tip of the leather bottle then slurps back in.
You eat the laudanum
You squeeze three colorless drops into your mouth.
You wait
Time passes...
Your face convulses in a prodigious yawn.
You wait
Time passes...
You stare into space for a long, thoughtless moment. It seems very
hard to think, you think, but you aren't sure.
You wait
Time passes...
Your eyes are extraordinarily dry. You blink to moisten them, and
snort awake a minute later, drool dripping down your chin.
Wait
Time passes...
Sleep overtakes you and you slump into unconsiousness.
You awake too late to save the ship -- or rather, you never wake at all.
Smell salts
You jerk the smelling salts away from your nose after one brief ammoniac whiff. Your burning nostrils make you feel more alert.
Fore
Sleep overtakes you and you slump into unconsiousness.
You awake too late to save the ship -- or rather, you never wake at all.
You look at the reef
A line of reefs separates the lagoon from the sea beyond.
Your eyes are drawn to a flicker of light off the sea. Squinting,
you see a man swimming to shore, moonlight flashing off his hook. A wisp of breeze brings an odor of onions and rum, and the occasional gargling chuckle, "...mischief, har...reefs."
You take all
pile of clothes: You pick up the pile of clothes. It separates into a pair of breeches and a shirt.
You take the moonbeam
That seems a useless idea.
Aft
A tiny glow of fire creeps across a stretch of floor -- inside the
cage full of ammunition.
Up
The canvas hatch is closed.
Aft
You squeeze through the opening between cupboard and wall.
You climb the ladder
You put everything in your reticule and hop out, catching the ladder.
Up
You dash up the ladder.

The reefs are definitely getting larger.
Fore
No torches are lit, or needed on this moonlit night, except in the
deep shadows cast by the huge navigation wheel. Men move about to the fore, talking quietly. Under the stairs aft to the poop is a barred door.
The reefs are definitely getting larger.
Abaft the wheel sits a large pyramid of casks, held in place by a
heavy rope.
Cannon line the deck, aimed at open sea and the island.
You examine the door
It is closed and barred.
You open door
Someone yells from ahead, "Cap'n 'll have your hide if you go down there!" You haven't the strength to lift the bar anyway.
You examine the casks
Lying on their sides, the casks are stacked in a rather shaky pyramid: perhaps that's why someone has tied the rope about them. A cask on one corner has lost its lid. "Hey, boy! Get away from those. It ain't safe!" yells a sailor.
You look in the cask
You can see a slab of pork.
Fore
It is a deceptively quiet evening on the ship, the pirates singing
low shanties as they repair cannon, twist ropes and sharpen daggers. The mainmast casts an inky shadow over the canvas screening the hatch. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together.
The reefs are definitely getting larger.
Two large barrels stand near the stair to the foredeck.
You examine the barrels
The two open barrels contain rum and water, you can tell by the smell of each. They are identical but for the dark stains around the mouth of the rum barrel.
Fore
Higher than all but the poop deck, this end of the ship commands a
good view of the island; the "crow's nest," swinging above in the heights of the foremast, would command a better. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together.
Imbedded in the deck is a grated air hole to the crew's quarters
below. You can go aft, or forward through a break in the ubiquitous railing.
Odors of old grease and char waft from a little shack perched behind the mast.
The reefs are definitely getting larger.
You can see a mooring winch here.
You examine the winch
Made of an old barrel turning on a pole, the mooring winch is used to coil in the anchor chain. A pair of metal teeth bite the links to prevent it from dragging out; a lever is connected to the teeth. Something is written on the lever.
You read the lever
On the lever is written "Open Up, Close Down." You notice the lever is pointed down.
You pull the lever
You'll have to specify which way you want to move it.
Bswish! Waves smash against the reefs nearby.
You pull the lever up
The metal teeth open as you raise up the lever. The anchor, released, splashes down into the sea, dragging its clanking chain. After a moment, you feel the ship pull slightly against the current. You lower the lever to prevent any more chain from spooling out.
You examine the shack
It's a tiny charred wooden shack.
You look in the shack
You can't look inside Galley!
With a heave and creak of timbers, the Helena Louise drifts a little way back towards the island. The tide has turned.
You enter the shack
This tiny kitchen smells of old stew and yeast. A low door to
starboard shows the way out.
A dagger is driven into the wooden floorboards.
An entirely bald man sits here, carving into his peg leg.
The man looks you over sharply, then winks an eye. "Hullo, boy --
Sam, I'll call you. Nervous about Cap'n? He'll come to no harm. And if there is trouble, he only has to signal from that seaward winder of the house -- ye can see it from the crow's nest -- and we'll be there in a jiffy. Me and my peg are to stay aboard and guard y--, the Cap'n's young lady."
You tell the cook about the fuse
"Lose sommat? I be always losing things. Think there be thieves aboard."
You tell the cook about the fire
"Fire for the cold? I think it be too warm..."
Kiss cook
"Nah, me pretty, ye belong to Cap'n."
Exit
You can see a mooring winch here.
Fore
You drop all you are carrying and creep out over the waves.

Hanging on the bowsprit, your arms and legs wrapped tightly around
the narrow spar, you can't see much beside an upside-down view of the figurehead of the Helena Louise, and the anchor chain descending into the swelling and breaking waves over (under?) your head.
A stub of rope, roughly cut, swings rudely over the waves.
Aft
You can see a dagger and a mooring winch here.
You take all
dagger: Taken.
Describe the surroundings
It is a deceptively quiet evening on the ship, the pirates singing
low shanties as they repair cannon, twist ropes and sharpen daggers. The mainmast casts an inky shadow over the canvas screening the hatch. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together.
Two large barrels stand near the stair to the foredeck.
You examine the barrels
The two open barrels contain rum and water, you can tell by the smell of each. They are identical but for the dark stains around the mouth of the rum barrel.
Aft
Abaft the wheel sits a large pyramid of casks, held in place by a
heavy rope.
Cannon line the deck, aimed at open sea and the island.
You cut the rope
[with the dagger]
The line snaps, and the pyramid collapses into dozens of tumbling casks. A large one rolls into you, stumbling you through the railing into the sea.
Climb rigging
You bite down on the dagger, freeing your hands to climb. When you stop, you take it back again. The wind, a mere breeze on the deck, blows more fiercely.

The deck swings far below as you cling to the rigging in the wind. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together.
Go downwards
You half-climb, half-fall, down to the deck.
You check your inventory
You have a dagger and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a leather bottle, a bit of mirror, a cotton frock, a missive, a jewelled brooch, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a shirt, breeches, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
You take the pork
The slab of pork is beyond your reach at the bottom of the cask.
You enter the cask
You crawl into the cask, feeling a slab of something stuck on the bottom. From this close, you can see the line is getting frayed where it rubs against the cask.
You take the pork
You peel it off the cask.
Wait
Time passes...
You cut the line with the dagger
You hesitate, thinking of the fates of those left aboard this ship.
Go outside
You get out of the cask.
Look around
Higher than all but the poop deck, this end of the ship commands a
good view of the island; the "crow's nest," swinging above in the heights of the foremast, would command a better. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together.
Imbedded in the deck is a grated air hole to the crew's quarters
below. You can go aft, or forward through a break in the ubiquitous railing.
Odors of old grease and char waft from a little shack perched behind the mast.
You can see a mooring winch here.
You look at the water
The water is sparkling clear.
You put the dress in the water
Keeping hold on the cotton frock, you soak it with water. It becomes so heavy, however, that you drop it, with a loud squelch.
You take the frock
Taken.
Aft
Abaft the wheel sits a large pyramid of casks, held in place by a
heavy rope.
Cannon line the deck, aimed at open sea and the island.
Look around
No torches are lit, or needed on this moonlit night, except in the
deep shadows cast by the huge navigation wheel. Men move about to the fore, talking quietly. Under the stairs aft to the poop is a barred door.
Abaft the wheel sits a large pyramid of casks, held in place by a
heavy rope.
Cannon line the deck, aimed at open sea and the island.
You examine wheel
Completely common looking navigation wheel.
Fore
You squeeze through the opening between cupboard and wall.
You throw frock at the fuse
You throw the cotton frock up, its soaked skirt slapping your head. Too heavy and bulky to make it over the gate, it squelches to the floor nearby. A cold tear of water dribbles down the back of your neck.
Look around
Steep stairs lead up in the dimness to a canvas hatch above. Rats' scratchings counterpoint the lullaby of bilge water sloshing in the bulkheads, punctuated by footsteps slapping the deck overhead. You may move fore or aft.
Behind a high fence, decorated by a sign, are stacked the food and ammunition supplies; casks of rum, water, flour and salt meat interspersed with kegs of gunpowder and shot. A closed gate is the only way in.
A tiny glow of fire creeps across a stretch of floor -- inside the
cage full of ammunition.
You can see a cotton frock here.
You read the sign
The sign proclaims "Thieves be keel-hauled" in uncertain lettering.
You examine the hatch
Steep stairs lead up in the dimness to a canvas hatch.
The tail of your shirt suddenly catches on something, tearing the fabric. A large scrap flutters to your feet.
You look at the rag
It is a fairly hefty scrap of fabric.
Go outside
Did you have any particular direction in mind?
The end of a rope ladder blows past the window.
Fore
You can see a mooring winch here.
Suddenly you appreciate what it is to be a ball in an exploding
cannon. The intense heat, the push of fire, and the sense of release when spit from the cannon's mouth -- these you feel when the lighted fuse finally burns up to the largest keg of gunpowder in the hold.
Inventory
You have your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a cotton frock, a missive, a jewelled brooch, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a shirt, breeches, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
Tear frock
You rip a large rag out of the cotton frock.
Aft
You squeeze through the opening between cupboard and wall.
Fore
No torches are lit, or needed on this moonlit night, except in the
deep shadows cast by the huge navigation wheel. Men move about to the fore, talking quietly. Under the stairs aft to the poop is a barred door.
The reefs seem a little larger than you thought before.
Abaft the wheel sits a large pyramid of casks, held in place by a
heavy rope.
Cannon line the deck, aimed at open sea and the island.
Fore
It is a deceptively quiet evening on the ship, the pirates singing
low shanties as they repair cannon, twist ropes and sharpen daggers. The mainmast casts an inky shadow over the canvas screening the hatch. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together.
The reefs seem a little larger than you thought before.
Two large barrels stand near the stair to the foredeck.
You put the rag in the water
Keeping hold on the rag, you soak it with water.
Fore
Higher than all but the poop deck, this end of the ship commands a
good view of the island; the "crow's nest," swinging above in the heights of the foremast, would command a better. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together.
Imbedded in the deck is a grated air hole to the crew's quarters
below. You can go aft, or forward through a break in the ubiquitous railing.
Odors of old grease and char waft from a little shack perched behind the mast.
The reefs seem a little larger than you thought before.
You can see a mooring winch here.
Go outside
You can see a mooring winch here.
The reefs are definitely getting larger.
You throw the rag at the fuse
You throw the rag over the gate. Luckily, it lands directly on the burning end of the fuse. With a sputter and a sigh, the flame dies.
You examine bottle
It's a small leather bottle, with a tiny label on one side. It appears to be almost empty.
You read the bottle
The label reads, "Laudanum drops. Squeeze into a glass of wine to sleep free of pain and mental anguish."
Aft
The crash of surf is increasing in volume. You'd best find out
what's going on!
Climb rigging
The wind, a mere breeze on the deck, blows more fiercely.

The deck swings far below as you cling to the rigging in the wind. A tangled mass of rigging hangs down from the mast, like many rope ladders woven together. Farther up the rigging is a small platform.
Up
You clamber up the rigging.

You perch on a platform high above the deck, giving a view of the endless sea and the southernmost cliffs of the island, where a house pokes out of the vegetation. It gives off a general glow, but no lights can be seen in any of the second story windows. A tiny beach nestles into the base of the cliff.
With a heave and creak of timbers, the Helena Louise drifts a little way back towards the island. The tide has turned.
Go downwards
You half-climb, half-fall, down to the deck.

You can see a mooring winch here.
You pull the lever d.
It already is.
You pull the lever up
Raising the lever would release more chain and you might ground the Helena Louise.
You drink the rum
You take a sip and spit it out, coughing. This is much stronger than ratafia!
You cut the line with the dagger
The line snaps, and the pyramid collapses into dozens of tumbling casks. Your cask is thrust into the sea, the dagger flying from your hand.
Sputtering mouthfuls of salt water, you first look around several minutes later.

Lagoon, in the cask
You are crouched in a cask on the lagoon of St. Sinistra. The crash
of surf hitting the reefs is quite loud.
You check your inventory
You have a slab of pork and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a leather bottle, a bit of mirror, a cotton frock, a missive, a jewelled brooch, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a shirt, breeches, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
The current pulls you in towards the island.
Hello sailor
Nothing happens here.
The current pulls you in towards the island.
You wait for a while
Time passes...
The current pulls you in towards the island.
Lagoon, in the cask
You are crouched in a cask on the lagoon of St. Sinistra. The jungle looms gray-green in the light of the full moon.
You go outside
Although the lagoon is warm and clear, it is much too deep.
The current pulls you in towards the island.
Wait
Time passes...
The current pulls you in towards the island. With a scrape, the cask lodges in the sand.

Shallows, in the cask
You are crouched in the cask in the warm, lapping waves of the shallows. A white sand beach is west of you.
A skiff nods in the waves, its oars jerking around in the current.
You leave
Free of your weight, the cask bobs and spins in the current, pulled out into the lagoon. You splash after it, but it is gone.
You go west
This is a tiny beach, at the base of vine-covered cliffs. To the
east, the Helena Louise floats serenely on the lagoon.
Immediately north of you, a rocky staircase is hewn into the cliff.
You examine the vine
Completely common looking vine.
You go to the north
Jungle looms around this clipped lawn, a path meandering westward
into the dense undergrowth. To the east is a folly entangled in blooming jasmine. The way to the beach is obscure, but visible to the southeast. Behind the folly a thorny hedge blocks the cliff view of the sea.
Music and voices float from the veranda to the north.
Two men stand whispering in the shadows. You catch an occasional
word, "Davis dead... girl... Falcon on Sinistra." The men separate, the well-dressed one going into the ballroom as the other slinks into the bushes. You see his face. Crulley!
You go north
Steps lead south from this white marble veranda to a clipped lawn.
To the north, beyond a closed glass door, a line of people blocks your view of the ballroom.
Go north
The door is closed.
You knock on the door
Silence answers back.
You go to the west
The steps lead south.
You go to the west
Buried in the subtropical undergrowth, you lose all sense of being
on someone's private estate; jungle seems to extend for miles on all sides of you. A footworn path curves from east to north here, and the vegetation lessens to the northeast.
You go north
You are on a well-trampled lawn at the side of the house, one low doorway leading in to the east. Gravelled paths lead north and south into the undergrowth.
You go east
A firepit in the floor smokes badly, fogging up the depths of this large kitchen, somehow not escaping through either the south or west doors.
A blond woman huddles alone by the fire, as if cold.
The woman smiles uncertainly, then rushes over. "Are you come from
the village, boy? Dost know Lord Dimsford?" She sighs at your surprise. "So he sent you -- I am his Lucy. It's been so long since I've seen him. Lafond caught me eavesdropping and now I can't leave the grounds."

She fails to notice you've spoken.
"I haven't found Lafond's papers, I'm watched too closely. Tell Dimsford that I -- I'm scared, and I want him to come get me. Give this to him -- he'll recognize it." Lucy slides a garter down her leg and holds it out to you.
You wear the garter
[taking the garter first]
One doesn't wear a garter over breeches!
Kiss woman
"Smooch!"
You kiss you
"I hardly know you!" she gasps.
You give the banknote to Lucy
Lucy slaps you hard across the face. "I'm not that sort of girl!"
You kill Lucy
Relax.
Go north
The gravel path is just wide enough for a cart to pass. It bends around the west wing of the house, leading you to...

The front door stands open to the south, light splayed out onto a
drive stretching north into the jungle. A path leads around the western wing of the house; jutting out from the east wing is a tall hedge.
Go north
A rutted drive runs north-south here, from a high spiked gate
through the jungle to Lafond's mansion. You hide in the bushes nearby. Dragoons, conversing quietly, patrol the other side of the gate.
Go north
Dragoons guard the gate.
You check your inventory
You have a garter, a slab of pork and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a leather bottle, a bit of mirror, a cotton frock, a missive, a jewelled brooch, an invitation, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a shirt, breeches, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
You squeeze the bottle on the pork
You squeeze three colorless drops onto the slab of pork. A patch of salt dissolves as the laudanum absorbs into the meat.
You take off the clothes
[in front of the patrol]
That's not done in polite society.
Go west
The underbrush is much too thick to enter.
You take off the clothes
You strip down to your chemise.
You go north
Dragoons, conversing quietly, patrol the other side of the gate.
Go north
Dragoons guard the gate.
You go south
The front door stands open to the south, light splayed out onto a
drive stretching north into the jungle. A path leads around the western wing of the house; jutting out from the east wing is a tall hedge.
Go west
The gravel path is just wide enough for a cart to pass. It bends around the west wing of the house, leading you to...

You are on a well-trampled lawn at the side of the house, one low doorway leading in to the east. Gravelled paths lead north and south into the undergrowth.
You go south
Buried in the subtropical undergrowth, you lose all sense of being
on someone's private estate; jungle seems to extend for miles on all sides of you. A footworn path curves from east to north here, and the vegetation lessens to the northeast.
You go to the northeast
You are in a small clearing under the western side of the house.
Heavy vines creep up the wall past a second floor window, open to the night air. Southwest is an opening in the bushes.
You climb the vines
In these clothes? You jest.
You climb the vines
You take a firm grasp on a particularly thick tendril, jerk once to secure it, and scamper up the wall like some huge tropical spider. It is easy to climb through the window.

Lit only with moonlight through the open window, tonight this room
is serving as a ladies' dressing room. An exit lies to the north. Draped across the bed is a lovely cream colored watered silk gown.
It looks about your size.
You look at the dress
[Which dress dost thou mean, the beautiful ball gown or the cotton frock?]
Gown
Of cream silk, heavily embroidered on the stiffened skirt and stomacher, the beautiful ball gown is a work of art.
You wear the garter
You slide the garter up around your thigh.
Gown
[taking the beautiful ball gown first]
The beautiful ball gown fits perfectly, the creamy silk bringing a glow to your cheeks. You comb your hair with your fingers and bite your lips to make them red.
Look around
Lit only with moonlight through the open window, tonight this room
is serving as a ladies' dressing room. An exit lies to the north.
You go to the north
You stand in a carpeted hallway, leading east to a stair landing.
Rooms lie north and south of you.
Go north
This room is exotically furnished with a Turkey divan and chairs.
The exit is south.
A pair of duelling pistols is mounted high on one wall.
You get the pistols
You can't reach them. Ladies don't carry pistols, anyway.
You go east
The east-west hallway opens here to curve into a grand staircase sweeping down to the foyer.
Go east
You stand in a carpeted hallway, leading west to a stair landing. To the north is an ornately carved door. From the south comes the impression of light and air.
You look at the invitation
The invitation is addressed to "Davis":

In Honor of Jean Lafond,
recently proclaimed
Governor of St. Sinistra
A Dance at his Mansion
Ananas Road, St. Sinistra
Formal Dress and Invitation Required.

There's nothing extraordinary about the invitation.
Go north
You'll have to open the ornate door first.
You open the door
It's quite locked.
Go south
You are on a wide balcony overlooking the ballroom. A hallway lies
to the north.
Down on the dance floor you see myriad colors as the guests weave
the intricate steps of their dances.
A chandelier is held above the dance floor by a rope and pulley
system, so that the servants can lower it to light and snuff its candles. Several feet of rope hang down from the pulley, the excess tied around the railing.
You untie the rope
Untied. The chandelier swings slightly, dribs of hot wax spilling to the floor.
Look around
You are on a wide balcony overlooking the ballroom. A hallway lies
to the north.
Down on the dance floor you see myriad colors as the guests weave
the intricate steps of their dances.
A chandelier is held above the dance floor by a rope and pulley
system, so that the servants can lower it to light and snuff its candles. Several feet of rope hang down from the pulley, the end resting on the railing.
You pull the rope
The chandelier swings, but is too heavy for you to pull up.
You climb the rope
You have lost your mind.
Go downwards
A grandiose staircase splits and twists up to the next floor here, framing the entrance south to the ballroom. Long hallways lead east and west; cool night air drifts in through the front door, north of you. The butler stands near the entrance to the ballroom.
Go south
The butler prevents you. "Miss... your invitation?"
Hello
He bows.
"Your invitation, Miss?" says the butler bowing.
You show the invitation to the butler
The butler takes the invitation. "Enjoy the dance, Miss Davis."
Go south
The sea of spectators parts to admit you, murmuring approval.

Lafond's party is well attended: you can hardly move for the crush. However, the room is oddly silent, no talk interrupting the musical efforts of the musicians to the west. Despite the heat, no one ventures south to the veranda, nor through the opening east. The foyer is north of you.
Captain Jamison moves up to you, saying, "May I have this dance?" He doesn't await an answer, sweeping you out onto the dance floor.
Dance
You pace out the steps.
"What the devil are you doing here! Lafond is a dangerous man to
play with!" Jamison smiles suddenly. "Why should I complain? You are quite safe, since no one expects you here. And you are looking lovely." The steps of the dance separate you a moment, as you twirl around
and curtsey to another dancer. You glide back into the captain's arms.
Swoon
You've never been missish enough to faint on demand.
"I haven't found your father. We've long suspected a passage under
the library, but I cannot find an entrance," says Jamison.
Your hands linked tightly with his and held high over your heads, a line of dancers files between you and Jamison.
You ask Jamison about Lafond
"I abhor the fiend." He clenches a fist.
"If there is any trouble, and I am unable to help -- a signal from
an upstairs seaward window will bring my men. They can be here in moments," the Captain says.
Together you whirl around the ballroom, his arm snug around your
waist, leading you gracefully, masterfully.
Nicholas's grip tenses as he nods to a bewigged man staring at you.
You turn, and the man moves on.
You examine Jamison
Jamison is finely dressed, in red velvet coat and full breeches, with a long gold embroidered vest and waterfalls of white lace at his neck, wrists and boottops. His rapier is bedecked with a fringed gold ribbon. He wears no wig, his unpowdered hair tied neatly at the back of his neck.
"I wish you would call me 'Nicholas' -- I feel I know you much
better than our brief acquaintance would allow." He presses your hand. The music ends with a flourish and you pirouette once more before curtseying to Jamison. As you move to the side of the dance floor, Nick adds, "We should separate -- I'm sure I am being watched. You would be safer aboard the Helena Louise. If you slip out the veranda doors, no one will notice you leaving." He touches your hand and dissolves into the crowd.
Look around
Lafond's party is well attended: you can hardly move for the crush. However, the room is oddly silent, no talk interrupting the musical efforts of the musicians to the west. Despite the heat, no one ventures south to the veranda, nor through the opening east. The foyer is north of you.
You go east
was served here earlier. West of you is the ballroom.
Go north
You scuttle underneath the long table.

The carpeted hallway turns from west to north here, extending into
the east wing. A long table blocks the way south.
Go north
Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner. Music wafts distantly from the ballroom across the hall to the south.
An expensive hat is hanging on a knob.
You wear the hat
[taking the hat first]
As you lift the hat from its knob on the wall, a low vibration tingles up your legs from the floor.
You wear hat
You're already wearing the hat!
Turn globe
The globe is solidly fastened to the floor.
You look at the bookshelves
Most of the books appear unread, their pages uncut, the spines not yet creased. All except one, "Treatise of Power" by Sir Michael Villiers.
You take the treatise of the power
You half tip the book out of the shelf when it snaps surprisingly back into place. There is a mysterious scraping sound from inside the wall.
You listen to the wall
It sounds just like a wall.
You open the curtain
You pull the cloth aside momentarily.
You put the hat on the knob
You'll have to remove the hat first.
You put hat on the knob
Doffed.

You prop the hat back on the knob.
You look behind the curtain
In the dark behind the drapes is a window.
You look around
Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner. Music wafts distantly from the ballroom across the hall to the south.
A knob juts out of the wall.
You look in the window
You can see only darkness beyond the window.
Inventory
You have a hat, a cotton frock, your reticule (hanging from your wrist), a leather bottle, a slab of pork, a shirt and breeches. It seems that your reticule contains a bit of mirror, a missive, a jewelled brooch, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a beautiful ball gown, a garter, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
You put the frock on the knob
Done.
You put all on the knob
hat: You prop the hat back on the knob.
beautiful ball gown: You'll have to remove the beautiful ball gown first.
garter: You'll have to remove the garter first.
your reticule: A lady is never without her reticule.
leather bottle: There's no room on the knob for the leather bottle. slab of pork: There's no room on the knob for the slab of pork.
shirt: There's no room on the knob for the shirt.
breeches: There's no room on the knob for the breeches.
your kid slippers: You'll have to remove your kid slippers first.
linen chemise: You'll have to remove the linen chemise first.
You put the gown on the knob
You remove the beautiful ball gown, exposing your linen chemise.

There's no room on the knob for the beautiful ball gown.
You get the gown
As you lift the hat from its knob on the wall, a low vibration tingles up your legs from the floor.

There's no room on the knob for the beautiful ball gown.

You already have the beautiful ball gown.
You touch the globe
You press the globe at random.
You touch the Sinistra
You press the painted island, and it sinks into the wooden sea. You hear a whirr and a click and the portrait pops open. A draft of sea-scented air flows in from behind it.
You go west
but a servant's corridor. The foyer is east, a kitchen north of you.
You go north
A firepit in the floor smokes badly, fogging up the depths of this large kitchen, somehow not escaping through either the south or west doors.
Lucy huddles alone by the fire, as if cold.
"Milady," exclaims the woman. "Lafond's guests are wisest not to
stray. Maybe you should stay at the ball." You find yourself ushered into a hallway.

but a servant's corridor. The foyer is east, a kitchen north of you.
You go east
"No, ma'am, that way's private." The butler stops you.
You go to the south
The sea of spectators parts to admit you, murmuring approval.

Lafond's party is well attended: you can hardly move for the crush. However, the room is oddly silent, no talk interrupting the musical efforts of the musicians to the west. Despite the heat, no one ventures south to the veranda, nor through the opening east. The foyer is north of you.
A fashionably bewigged man stalks up to you and bows deeply. "Will
you dance?" he asks, with a light French accent. "Not that you have much choice. If you turn me down, your father dies."
Slap lafond
Lafond grabs your hair and pulls your head sharply back, clinching your arms to your sides. The ballroom is a whirling blur through your tears as he leads you around the floor. "Ma petite, a ball is not the right place to kill me. What would my guests think?!"
The man's smile hardens. "You have your father's eyes. I am Lafond
--  I have recently become intimate with that gentleman." He slightly stresses the word "intimate."
"Now, tell me 'yes.' And remember, I am a man of my word."
No
"No," you say, chin trembling.
"A mistake, ma petite." Lafond gestures to a shadowy figure, who disappears into the east wing. "Say adieu to your dear Papa."
Never
"No," you say, chin trembling.
Yes
You summon a gracious smile, "Why yes, I'd love to."
He laughs triumphantly and pulls you into the dance.
Wait
Time passes...
"So you know I am not your father's friend," Lafond says, offering a hand for the promenade. "Unfortunately, you are in my power, he is in my dungeon and I am still King of these waters." A gold ring flashes on his hand. It seems vaguely familiar.
You examine ring
It's an ancient gold band, with a curious design of gargoyles, curled tongues extended, on its flat face, with "Sal Sapit Omnia" engraved at the bottom.
Lafond's eyes rake your body. "When I am ready, the butler will
summon you to sup with me in my room; it may be some time. We will find much in common before dawn, I am sure. Then I may free your father." Lafond bows as the dance ends, and kisses your hand. He cocks his head, curious, "You have far less spirit than your father credited you. He swore you would have him freed in no time at all. A pity, I prefer doyennes with mettle." He moves to speak with the butler, then drifts into the crowd.
You go east
was served here earlier. West of you is the ballroom.
You examine the island
A tiny replica of St. Sinistra is painted on the globe in greater detail than any other country, showing even the road from Santa Ananas to Lafond's mansion.
You look around
Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait, slightly awry from the wall, decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner. Music wafts distantly from the ballroom across the hall to the south.
A knob juts out of the wall.
You look at the portrait
Cool air seeps out from the portrait.
Go north
For safety's sake, you leave the hat on its knob. Best not to show that you've been wandering.
You move beyond the portrait into the flickering torchlight.

Cool salt air, blowing past a torch on a spiral staircase below you, ruffles your hair and circles south into the library.
You take the torch
You can't reach the torch. Ladies don't carry them anyway.
Go downward
Flickering torchlight lights the bottom of a spiral staircase. A
draft blows from the east; a passage leads south.
Go east
A strong wet breeze blows from a low doorway to the east. A circle
of light leads west. The passageway continues south.
Go south
You are at the far end of a dank passageway heading north. A wooden door leads east.
You open the door
Opened.
Go east
This tiny cell is airless and shivering cold, entirely empty of anything but darkness. A wooden door leads west.
Go south
You are at the far end of a dank passageway heading north. A wooden door leads east.

A strong wet breeze blows from a low doorway to the east. A circle
of light leads west. The passageway continues south.

Flickering torchlight lights the bottom of a spiral staircase. A
draft blows from the east; a passage leads south.

Two exits lead from this cavernous room, north and south. The walls drip with wet, forming a huge pool on the floor.
A crocodile lies half in the pool, gazing at you, with baleful eyes, jaws wide open. Dagger-sharp teeth glint in the torchlight.
You give the pork to croc
The crocodile snaps its jaws shut as the slab of pork disappears into its maw.
You enter the mouth
It would be safer to stay distant and throw things at the crocodile.
You kill the croc
Harm a sleeping animal! Mama would have been shocked.
Go south
You edge past the reptile.

You sense, rather than see, the rusty skeletons of old cages and torture devices that line the walls of this cavernous room. One flaming torch, high on a wall, casts mad licks of light into the darkness. Passages lead north and west. Set deep in the rocky floor is a closed trapdoor.
A pair of manacles hangs from iron chains attached high on the wall.
You open the trapdoor
The door creaks open to reveal a black well, water hushing deep within.
Go west
iron door.
You unlock the door with the pin
You are unable to unlock the door.
You knock on the door
Silence answers back.
Go north
You'll have to open the iron door first.
Go east
You sense, rather than see, the rusty skeletons of old cages and torture devices that line the walls of this cavernous room. One flaming torch, high on a wall, casts mad licks of light into the darkness. Passages lead north and west. Set deep in the rocky floor is an open trapdoor.
A pair of manacles hangs from iron chains attached high on the wall.
You take the manacles
That is a waste of time.
You look at the manacles
A pair of manacles hangs from iron chains attached high on the wall.
You open the trap door
It is already open.
You enter the trap
You start to climb down the well, but lose your footing on the slimy rock. The fall to the bottom of the well is endless; you've lost consciousness by the time the water overtakes you.
Go north
Two exits lead from this cavernous room, north and south. The walls drip with wet, forming a huge pool on the floor.
The crocodile lies half in the pool, sleeping.
Go north
Flickering torchlight lights the bottom of a spiral staircase. A
draft blows from the east; a passage leads south.
Go east
A strong wet breeze blows from a low doorway to the east. A circle
of light leads west. The passageway continues south.
You go east
Once a cell, now, with the door missing, made into a guard's
bunkroom, this room is distinctly uncomfortable. Gasps of air are forced through a crack in the seaward wall of the room. The way out is west of you.
A powder horn hangs on a long strap from the wall.
A canvas cot is shoved against a wall. Sitting on the cot is a large key.
You look at the key
Completely common looking large key.
You get all
powder horn: Taken.
large key: Taken.
You look at the horn
Almost triangular, with a little spout on top, the powder horn is similar to the one your father used to carry when hunting. It is filled with a mixture of gunpowder and shot.
You look at the bed
It is an uncomfortable canvas cot, old and torn.
You look in the crack
The Helena Louise floats, silent and serene, some distance out in the lagoon.
Go west
A strong wet breeze blows from a low doorway to the east. A circle
of light leads west. The passageway continues south.
Go west
A strong wet breeze blows from a low doorway to the east. A circle
of light leads west. The passageway continues south.

You can't go that way.

Flickering torchlight lights the bottom of a spiral staircase. A
draft blows from the east; a passage leads south.

Two exits lead from this cavernous room, north and south. The walls drip with wet, forming a huge pool on the floor.
The crocodile lies half in the pool, sleeping.

You edge past the reptile.

You sense, rather than see, the rusty skeletons of old cages and torture devices that line the walls of this cavernous room. One flaming torch, high on a wall, casts mad licks of light into the darkness. Passages lead north and west. Set deep in the rocky floor is an open trapdoor.
A pair of manacles hangs from iron chains attached high on the wall.

iron door.
You unlock door
[with the large key]
Unlocked.
You open the door
Opened.
Go north
Hewn from dense rock, the cell is a stagnant burrow. Except for the tiniest glow of light from the torch two rooms away, it is pitch black. As you enter, a tall bony man moves out of the darkness. "Papa," you cry, rushing into his arms.
"Why, hullo, my dear." He hugs you tightly. "Nick certainly took his time about fetching you."
You ask Papa about Nick
"My dear," he says rather impatiently, "There are people waiting for our help -- I haven't time to answer your questions just now."
You briefly explain the current situation to your father.
"I knew Falcon would do his best to rescue me, once you were safe,"
he responds. "Now to rescue Lucy -- Nicholas will have told you about her. You get him while I get Lucy, and the four of us will meet down at the beach. Just show me the way out of this maze, and we'll get started."
You show the garter to Papa
He smiles dreamily at a memory.
You give the garter to Papa
You'll have to remove the garter first.
You go south
iron door.
Papa enters just a few steps behind you.
You go east
You sense, rather than see, the rusty skeletons of old cages and torture devices that line the walls of this cavernous room. One flaming torch, high on a wall, casts mad licks of light into the darkness. Passages lead north and west. Set deep in the rocky floor is an open trapdoor.
A pair of manacles hangs from iron chains attached high on the wall. Papa follows you.
Go north
Two exits lead from this cavernous room, north and south. The walls drip with wet, forming a huge pool on the floor.
The crocodile lies half in the pool, sleeping.
Papa mutters something to himself. You hear an occasional "Zounds!" Your father stops, smiling at the crocodile, "Hello, chum, how are you?" He bends over the creature, and scratches its bumpy snout, muttering, "Never seen you sleep like this before." It stirs to life as your father walks over to you by the north entrance. The reptile, waking, lunges after him, choking on its chain.
Go north
Flickering torchlight lights the bottom of a spiral staircase. A
draft blows from the east; a passage leads south.
Papa follows you.
You go upward
Cool salt air, blowing past a torch on a spiral staircase below you, ruffles your hair and circles south into the library.
Papa enters just a few steps behind you.
Go south
You move beyond the portrait into the library.

Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait, slightly awry from the wall, decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner. Music wafts distantly from the ballroom across the hall to the south.
An expensive hat is hanging on a knob.
Papa mutters something to himself. You hear an occasional "Zounds!"
"A window!" your father exclaims. "I shall creep out to the kitchen. Get the Falcon." He climbs out the window.
Go south
The carpeted hallway turns from west to north here, extending into
the east wing. A long table blocks the way south.
There is a commotion from the west. A woman screams and a man yells, "Stop, Pirate!" You run to the foyer in time to see two dragoons dragging out the battered frame of Captain Jamison.
An officer quiets the guests, "This is the buccaneer who has been pirating our ships. He had the audacity to come here tonight intending to assassinate our dear governor. Do not worry, ladies, he was arrogant enough to come alone." The officer marches after his men. The dancers return to their banal conversations.

A grandiose staircase splits and twists up to the next floor here, framing the entrance south to the ballroom. Long hallways lead east and west; cool night air drifts in through the front door, north of you. The butler stands near the entrance to the ballroom.
You kick butler
"Hey! Cut that out!"
Go south
The sea of spectators parts to admit you, murmuring approval.

Lafond's party is well attended: you can hardly move for the crush. However, the room is oddly silent, no talk interrupting the musical efforts of the musicians to the west. Despite the heat, no one ventures south to the veranda, nor through the opening east. The foyer is north of you.
Go north
A grandiose staircase splits and twists up to the next floor here, framing the entrance south to the ballroom. Long hallways lead east and west; cool night air drifts in through the front door, north of you. The butler stands near the entrance to the ballroom.
The butler walks up to you. "M. Lafond requests your presence in his room immediately, Miss." He points up the stairs, bows, and leaves.
Inventory
You have a large key, a powder horn, a cotton frock, your reticule (hanging from your wrist), a leather bottle, a shirt and breeches. It seems that your reticule contains a bit of mirror, a missive, a jewelled brooch, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a beautiful ball gown, a garter, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
Go south
A grandiose staircase splits and twists up to the next floor here, framing the entrance south to the ballroom. Long hallways lead east and west; cool night air drifts in through the front door, north of you.
Go east
The carpeted hallway turns from west to north here, extending into
the east wing. A long table blocks the way south.
You go to the north
Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait, slightly awry from the wall, decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner. Music wafts distantly from the ballroom across the hall to the south.
An expensive hat is hanging on a knob.
You go to the north
You move beyond the portrait into the flickering torchlight.

Cool salt air, blowing past a torch on a spiral staircase below you, ruffles your hair and circles south into the library.
You go to the south
Two exits lead from this cavernous room, north and south. The walls drip with wet, forming a huge pool on the floor.
The crocodile lies half in the pool, gazing at you, with baleful
eyes, jaws wide open. Dagger-sharp teeth glint in the torchlight.
Go east
Once a cell, now, with the door missing, made into a guard's
bunkroom, this room is distinctly uncomfortable. Gasps of air are forced through a crack in the seaward wall of the room. The way out is west of you.
A canvas cot is shoved against a wall.
Go south
The crocodile roars at you. You retreat to the north entrance and the monster stills, waiting, chops open, almost smiling.
Go upwards
Cool salt air, blowing past a torch on a spiral staircase below you, ruffles your hair and circles south into the library.
Go south
You move beyond the portrait into the library.

Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait, slightly awry from the wall, decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner. Music wafts distantly from the ballroom across the hall to the south.
An expensive hat is hanging on a knob.
You look in the door
It is open.
Go north
"Welcome, ma petite." Lafond bows you in.

Lafond's bedroom shows all the outpourings of his megalomania. Royal hues of purple and gold weigh down the hangings on the bed and the eastward window, as if trying to smother the moonbeam shining in. Lafond is leering, lip curled.
A lace-covered table crouches beside a wing-backed chair in one
corner. Sitting on the table is a green goblet, a blue goblet and a flagon.
"Have some wine." Lafond pours wine into two glasses, giving a blue
one to you. "Drink this down. We have a long night ahead of us." He drains his own.
You put the Laudanum in the green goblet
Lafond bounds to your side, grabbing the leather bottle out of your hand before you can use it. "What have we here? Trying to poison yourself? Or me?" He throws it out the shutters.
Lafond waits impatiently for you to drink.
You drink the wine
You empty the blue goblet of wine.
"Good girl," he says, "Let's see more cooperation of this sort." Suddenly, the door slams open. It is Jamison, coatless, sword bared, his shirt ripped. "Thank God I am not too late. Leave, darling, before I skewer this dog to his bedposts," he cries. The scar on his cheek gleams coldly.
With a yell, Crulley and the butler jump out of the darkness behind him. Nicholas struggles, but soon lies unconscious on the floor.
"Take him to the dungeon," Lafond says, setting down his glass.
"You, butler, stay nearby. I do not wish to be disturbed again.
"Now that we are rid of that intrusion, cherie, I will change into something more comfortable. Pour me more wine." He crosses to the wardrobe removing his coat and vest, turned slightly away from you.
You pour the wine in the green goblet
You fill the green goblet with wine.
"In private, call me Jean, or whatever endearment you choose, once I have approved it." Lafond is looking into the wardrobe.
You put the Laudanum in the green goblet
You squeeze three colorless drops into the green goblet. You sense Lafond hesitate, then continue primping.
The butler enters, laying a silver tray of cold chicken on the
table. "The kitchen wench has gone, your grace. I took the liberty of fetching these myself." He bows and leaves the room.
"Sprinkle some spices on the fowl, ma petite," Lafond says, donning
a long brocade robe, his back to you. "They are hot, but delicious."
You put the spice on the chicken
You're not holding the spices.
"Tsk. The cook has gone too far. She shall be 'leaving us'
tomorrow." Lafond adjusts the lace at his neck.
You take the spice
You take a pinch of spices between your thumb and forefinger.
Lafond strolls to the table smiling slyly. "But you haven't finished pouring the wine." He tops off both glasses. "Which glass was mine? I seem to have forgotten." He points at the green goblet and smiles in a way that does not grant you confidence. "Is this it?"
You put spice on the chicken
You sprinkle some spices on a wing and nibble at it. The peppery heat hits you like a wave, leaving you gasping, eyes watering.
"Ah yes, of course." Lafond obligingly takes the green goblet, shrugging off your lack of cooperation.
He inhales deeply of the bouquet of his wine, then turns to you.
"You must think me very naive to fall for such a trick. I saw you pour something into one of these glasses -- although I cannot smell it." He switches goblets, setting the green goblet into your nerveless grasp and taking up the other, smiling evilly. "Now you will drink from the cup intended for me."
You throw the green goblet at Lafond
The delicate glass of the green goblet shatters into pieces.
Lafond smacks you hard across the face with the back of his hand, "Fool." He casts aside all formalities.
You pour the wine in the blue goblet
You fill the blue goblet with wine.
The butler enters, laying a silver tray of cold chicken on the
table. "The kitchen wench has gone, your grace. I took the liberty of fetching these myself." He bows and leaves the room.
"Sprinkle some spices on the fowl, ma petite," Lafond says, donning
a long brocade robe, his back to you. "They are hot, but delicious."
You put the Laudanum in the blue goblet
You squeeze three colorless drops into the blue goblet. You sense Lafond hesitate, then continue primping.
"Tsk. The cook has gone too far. She shall be 'leaving us'
tomorrow." Lafond adjusts the lace at his neck.
You take the spice
You take a pinch of spices between your thumb and forefinger.
Lafond strolls to the table smiling slyly. "Which glass was mine? I seem to have forgotten." He points at the green goblet and smiles in a way that does not grant you confidence. "Is this it?"
You put the spice on the chicken
You sprinkle some spices on a wing and nibble at it. The peppery heat hits you like a wave, leaving you gasping, eyes watering.
"Ah yes, of course." Lafond obligingly takes the blue goblet,
shrugging off your lack of cooperation.
He inhales deeply of the bouquet of his wine, then turns to you.
"You must think me very naive to fall for such a trick. I saw you pour something into one of these glasses -- although I cannot smell it." He switches goblets, setting the blue goblet into your nerveless grasp and taking up the other, smiling evilly. "Now you will drink from the cup intended for me."
Yes
You nod.
"Ah yes, of course." Lafond obligingly takes the green goblet.
He inhales deeply of the bouquet of his wine, then turns to you.
"You must think me very naive to fall for such a trick. I saw you pour something into one of these glasses -- although I cannot smell it." He switches goblets, setting the green goblet into your nerveless grasp and taking up the other, smiling evilly. "Now you will drink from the cup intended for me."
Drink green goblet
You can't drink a green goblet!
The spices dribble out from between your fingers.
"Drink. We must not waste all night." Lafond pushes the glass toward your mouth.
Drink
[What do you want to drink?]
You drink wine
You empty the green goblet of wine.
The spices dribble out from between your fingers.
"Good girl," he says. Lafond takes the leather bottle and drops it
out the window. "You shall not need this. You may suffer no headaches in my employ."
He lifts his glass to drink, but stops. "Your father, for all his idiotic meddling in other people's business, is not a fool. I doubt you are, either." He calls in the butler, ordering him to empty the blue goblet. The man reports no odd taste and returns to his post.
You throw the spices at Lafond
You're not holding the spices.
Lafond draws near, whispering indecencies. He caresses your lily
white neck, his fingers ice-cold despite the tropic heat.
You eat the chicken
You sprinkle some spices on a wing and nibble at it. The peppery heat hits you like a wave, leaving you gasping, eyes watering.
Lafond slides his hand up your neck and into your hair, letting it
fall down your back in thick waves and tresses. He lays everything you carry on the floor.
Inventory
You have your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a bit of mirror, a missive, a jewelled brooch, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a beautiful ball gown, a garter, your kid slippers and a linen chemise.
One by one Lafond undoes your buttons. He pulls open your bodice.
Your clothes float to the floor.
You hear a "thump-phoosh," like someone slumping against a wall.
Stab Lafond with pin
To put it bluntly, neither the jewelled brooch nor you are very sharp. Lafond runs his fingers down your naked spine, and compliments your body. He removes his dressing gown.
You wear the chemise
[taking the linen chemise first]
Lafond stops you.
Lafond kisses your shoulder, your neck, your ear. "Close your eyes,
if you will," he taunts, "and pretend I am your dearest Captain Jamison. But I am greater than he will ever be." He kisses you, his lips thin and cold.
You go south
Lafond whirls you around. "My pretty, you came here freely, but you may not leave freely."
Lafond leads you over to the bed.
You kick Lafond
Lafond grabs your hair and pulls your head sharply back, clinching your arms to your sides. Twisting your wrist, pain stabbing down your arm, he forces his mouth on yours, hard, thrusting, cutting your lips. He releases you. "Let that be a warning to you, my love."
Lafond pulls the sheets up to cover you both, pressing his long
flaccid body against yours. Waves crash against the base of the cliff.
Scream
Papa always says, "Action, not reaction, girl!"
Lafond pulls the sheets up to cover you both, pressing his long
flaccid body against yours. Waves crash against the base of the cliff.
You describe your surroundings
Lafond's bedroom shows all the outpourings of his megalomania. Royal hues of purple and gold weigh down the hangings on the bed and the eastward window, as if trying to smother the moonbeam shining in. Lafond is leering, lip curled. He has a green goblet.
A lace-covered table crouches beside a wing-backed chair in one
corner. Sitting on the table is a flagon.
Lafond waits impatiently for you to drink.
You drink the wine
You empty the blue goblet of wine.
"Good girl," he says, "Let's see more cooperation of this sort." Suddenly, the door slams open. It is Jamison, coatless, sword bared, his shirt ripped. "Thank God I am not too late. Leave, darling, before I skewer this dog to his bedposts," he cries. The scar on his cheek gleams coldly.
With a yell, Crulley and the butler jump out of the darkness behind him. Nicholas struggles, but soon lies unconscious on the floor.
"Take him to the dungeon," Lafond says, setting down his glass.
"You, butler, stay nearby. I do not wish to be disturbed again.
"Now that we are rid of that intrusion, cherie, I will change into something more comfortable. Pour me more wine." He crosses to the wardrobe removing his coat and vest, turned slightly away from you.
You pour the wine in blue goblet
You fill the blue goblet with wine.
"In private, call me Jean, or whatever endearment you choose, once I have approved it." Lafond is looking into the wardrobe.
You put the Laudanum in the green goblet
You squeeze three colorless drops into the green goblet. You sense Lafond hesitate, then continue primping.
The butler enters, laying a silver tray of cold chicken on the
table. "The kitchen wench has gone, your grace. I took the liberty of fetching these myself." He bows and leaves the room.
"Sprinkle some spices on the fowl, ma petite," Lafond says, donning
a long brocade robe, his back to you. "They are hot, but delicious."
You put the Laudanum in the flagon
You squeeze three colorless drops into the flagon. You sense Lafond hesitate, then continue primping.
The butler enters, laying a silver tray of cold chicken on the
table. "The kitchen wench has gone, your grace. I took the liberty of fetching these myself." He bows and leaves the room.
"Sprinkle some spices on the fowl, ma petite," Lafond says, donning
a long brocade robe, his back to you. "They are hot, but delicious."
You pour the wine in the green
You fill the green goblet with wine.
"Tsk. The cook has gone too far. She shall be 'leaving us'
tomorrow." Lafond adjusts the lace at his neck.
No
You shake your head, teeth clenched.
"Ah yes, of course." Lafond obligingly takes the blue goblet.
He inhales deeply of the bouquet of his wine, then turns to you.
"You must think me very naive to fall for such a trick. I saw you pour something into one of these glasses -- although I cannot smell it." He switches goblets, setting the blue goblet into your nerveless grasp and taking up the other, smiling evilly. "Now you will drink from the cup intended for me."
You put the spice on the chicken
You sprinkle some spices on a wing and nibble at it. The peppery heat hits you like a wave, leaving you gasping, eyes watering.
The spices dribble out from between your fingers.
Lafond grows suddenly violent. "I will not have insubordination. You shall cooperate, minx." He forces the quantity of wine down your throat.
Lafond takes the leather bottle and drops it out the window. "You
shall not need this. You may suffer no headaches in my employ."
He lifts his glass to drink, but stops. "Your father, for all his idiotic meddling in other people's business, is not a fool. I doubt you are, either." He calls in the butler, ordering him to empty the green goblet. The man reports no odd taste and returns to his post.
You get the spices
You take a pinch of spices between your thumb and forefinger.
Lafond draws near, whispering indecencies. He caresses your lily
white neck, his fingers ice-cold despite the tropic heat.
You throw the spices at Lafond
You blow the spices off your fingertips, directly into Lafond's face. He sneezes, his eyes watering from the heat of the peppers. Reaching blindly for some wine, he instead upsets the table, shattering a glass. Lafond stumbles cursing out of the room, in search of relief.
You go to the south
You run out -- into the butler's barrel chest and leering grin. You return to the bedroom, the butler following. "The governor said you were not to leave this room."
The butler collapses, head back, snoring loudly.
Go south
You creep over the prostrate butler.

You stand in a carpeted hallway, leading west to a stair landing. To the north is an ornately carved door. From the south comes the impression of light and air.
Look around
You stand in a carpeted hallway, leading west to a stair landing. To the north is an ornately carved door. From the south comes the impression of light and air.
Go north
Lafond's bedroom shows all the outpourings of his megalomania. Royal hues of purple and gold weigh down the hangings on the bed and the eastward window, as if trying to smother the moonbeam shining in.
The butler lies on the floor, prone and snoring loudly.
A lace-covered table crouches beside a wing-backed chair in one
corner. Sitting on the table is a silver tray and a flagon.
You put the tray in moonbeam
You scrape everything off the silver tray into the bushes below. You roll the silver tray around in the beam of moonlight till it glows silver-white. After a moment, a flash of light responds from the Helena Louise.
Go south
You creep over the prostrate butler.

You stand in a carpeted hallway, leading west to a stair landing. To the north is an ornately carved door. From the south comes the impression of light and air.
You go north
The front door stands open to the south, light splayed out onto a
drive stretching north into the jungle. A path leads around the western wing of the house; jutting out from the east wing is a tall hedge.
An eerie battle cry arises on the wind, from all sides of the house.
It is drowned out a few minutes later by screams of terror from the dancers in the ballroom.
Go south
A grandiose staircase splits and twists up to the next floor here, framing the entrance south to the ballroom. Long hallways lead east and west; cool night air drifts in through the front door, north of you. Cookie rushes up to you, looking worried. "Miss, we must find the Cap'n. Have ye any idea where to look?"
Go east
The carpeted hallway turns from west to north here, extending into
the east wing. A long table blocks the way south.
Cookie pegs after you.
Cookie grins broadly, "I knew we could depend on you, lass. Lead
on!"
Go south
You scuttle underneath the long table.

was served here earlier. West of you is the ballroom.
Cookie pegs after you.
Go north
You scuttle underneath the long table.

The carpeted hallway turns from west to north here, extending into
the east wing. A long table blocks the way south.
Cookie pegs after you.
You go north
Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner.
An expensive hat is hanging on a knob.
Cookie pegs after you.
Go north
The portrait is closed.
Go north
For safety's sake, you leave the hat on its knob. Best not to show that you've been wandering.
You move beyond the portrait into the flickering torchlight.

Cool salt air, blowing past a torch on a spiral staircase below you, ruffles your hair and circles south into the library.
Cookie pegs after you.
You go downwards
Flickering torchlight lights the bottom of a spiral staircase. A
draft blows from the east; a passage leads south.
Cookie pegs after you.
Go south
Two exits lead from this cavernous room, north and south. The walls drip with wet, forming a huge pool on the floor.
The crocodile lies half in the pool, gazing at you, with baleful
eyes, jaws wide open. Dagger-sharp teeth glint in the torchlight. Cookie pegs after you.
Cookie rushes at the crocodile, crying, "I'll take care of this monster, sweetheart. You run by and do what you must do." He dives headlong into the pool.
You go to the south
A whip cracks the air. "Flogs me, will ye, Cap'n? Taste it yourself, har." Jamison groans, half conscious. You rush in.

You sense, rather than see, the rusty skeletons of old cages and torture devices that line the walls of this cavernous room. One flaming torch, high on a wall, casts mad licks of light into the darkness. Passages lead north and west. Set deep in the rocky floor is an open trapdoor.
Nicholas is spread-eagled against the wall, shackled in the pair of manacles.
A rapier lies in the half-dark of a corner.
Crulley steps leering out of the shadows and cracks the whip near
you, hopping you towards the open trapdoor. "What, afrighted of a lick o' the whip?"
You get rapier
Taken. Crulley snorts, "Be careful, you might hurt yer dearie."
Crulley cracks the whip near you, hopping you towards the open trapdoor. "Would yer like a taste o' water?"
Attack crulley
Crulley seems more amazed than frightened of your attack, guessing correctly that you hardly know the tip from the hilt of the rapier. He steps sideways in surprise, so he stands at the edge of the trapdoor. Crulley cracks the whip near you, hopping you towards the open trapdoor. "Ye're a tasty doxy to let slip, but no 'elp fer it."
Attack crulley
You flick the rapier across his chest, barely scratching him. He cries, "Avast me! Pricked by a woman!" and trips into the trapdoor.
You peer down the hole to find Crulley hanging in midair, his hook caught in the rocks a few yards down. He curses and starts to climb up the sheer slimy walls of the well.
You pick the lock with the brooch
You twist the pin of the jewelled brooch in the locks, quickly freeing Nicholas. He falls in a faint at your feet.
Sounds of scraping hook against stone and curses echo out of the
well.
Close trapdoor
Shut.
You give the salts to Jamison
You wave the smelling salts under Nicholas's nose. He stirs, sneezes and looks at you blearily. "How --?" he says, bewildered. "Lafond, did he --?" He straightens. "Darling, you are an angel, to have gone through all this and then rescue me. Your ravisher will not go unpunished." He squares his shoulders. "For my brother, his wife, and your honor, I will kill Jean Lafond."
Nick kisses you briefly, a butterfly touching your lips, then seizes his rapier and runs off to the north. Cookie calls a breathless "Hullo, Cap'n" to him as he races past.
Sounds of scraping hook against stone and curses echo out of the
well, muffled by the trapdoor.
Look around
You sense, rather than see, the rusty skeletons of old cages and torture devices that line the walls of this cavernous room. One flaming torch, high on a wall, casts mad licks of light into the darkness. Passages lead north and west. Set deep in the rocky floor is a closed trapdoor.
A pair of manacles hangs from iron chains attached high on the wall. Sounds of scraping hook against stone and curses echo out of the
well, muffled by the trapdoor.
You go to the north
crocodile.
Go north
"I ain't goin' to fight this beast if you're headin' back upstairs." Cookie follows you.

Cookie pegs after you.
Go upwards
Cookie pegs after you.
You go south
You move beyond the portrait into the library.

Everything in this private office is larger than life. A huge
portrait, slightly awry from the wall, decorates the north side, and black drapes mask the east wall. Bookshelves tower over a cherry desk, and a massive wooden globe squats in a corner.
An expensive hat is hanging on a knob.
Cookie pegs after you.
Cookie cocks his head. "What is that noise? Is Cap'n duelling
Lafond? There's no chance he could win as beaten as he is!" Cookie races out towards the ballroom.
Swords engage and disengage.
You go south
The carpeted hallway turns from west to north here, extending into
the east wing. A long table blocks the way south.
You hear a duellist leap forward, and swords clash, parrying.
You go west
A grandiose staircase splits and twists up to the next floor here, framing the entrance south to the ballroom. Long hallways lead east and west; cool night air drifts in through the front door, north of you. You hear a piece of furniture being knocked over.
You go upward
The east-west hallway opens here to curve into a grand staircase sweeping down to the foyer.
You hear metal scrape metal. A woman gasps.
Go east
You stand in a carpeted hallway, leading west to a stair landing. To the north is an ornately carved door. From the south comes the impression of light and air.
"You must ... pay ... for your actions!" Nicholas gasps.
Go south
You are on a wide balcony overlooking the ballroom. A hallway lies
to the north.
Down on the dance floor the dancers are pressed in a wide circle
around Nicholas and Lafond. Cookie stands anxiously in the door to the veranda, near your father and Lucy.
A chandelier is held above the dance floor by a rope and pulley
system, so that the servants can lower it to light and snuff its candles. Several feet of rope hang down from the pulley, the end resting on the railing.
Nicholas and Lafond circle each other intently, the one breathing
hard, the other casual, sword tips almost touching. Jamison has lost copious amounts of blood and is no match for Lafond, cool and competent.
Lafond's voice is cold, lazy, "You will die, you know, Jamison."
You untie the rope
That seems a useless idea.
Someone calls out, "We've got the Dimsford girl, Governor" -- lying,
of course, since you're obviously free. But Nick glances towards the voice, missteps, and slips in his own blood, falling backwards to the floor, his rapier skittering aside.
Swing on the rope
"Aaieeee!" The cry comes uncalled to your lips as you swoop down from the balcony, petticoats flying, on the end of the rope.
Your timing is perfect: you slam into Lafond just as he steps into
his lunge. His rapier stabs wildly, piercing Nicholas's shoulder, missing his heart. You and Lafond roll into a snowball of petticoats and brocade, dropping everything between you.

Nicholas shouts, from far away, "Let me go! Let me deliver Lafond to
a 'better' world."
"A gentleman can't kill an unconscious man!" That is Papa's voice.
"And you're in no shape to continue, Nicholas. Rodney -- help my daughter. I'll take Nick."
Cookie leans over you. "We must get back to the ship, Miss. Dragoons surround the house." Nicholas, injured but still arguing, is already on the veranda, half-forced, half-supported by your father, shadowed by Lucy. Cookie helps you to your feet and rushes after them, expecting you to follow. Lafond lies nearby, apparently unconscious.

The dancers stare amazed at Lafond's limp body, some disbelieving,
some hopeful, all stock still. The pirates have fled to the darkness of the lawn.
Lafond, his wig awry, sprawls across the parquet floor.
You can see breeches, a shirt, a cotton frock, a powder horn, a
large key and a silver tray here.
You get all
breeches: Taken.
shirt: Taken.
cotton frock: Taken.
powder horn: Taken.
large key: Taken.
silver tray: Taken.
Go south
Steps lead south from this white marble veranda to a clipped lawn.
To the north the wreckage left by the duel is visible in the ballroom.
You go south
Jungle looms around this clipped lawn, a path meandering westward
into the dense undergrowth. To the east is a folly entangled in blooming jasmine. The way to the beach is obscure, but visible to the southeast. Behind the folly a thorny hedge blocks the cliff view of the sea.
Go downward
This is a tiny beach, at the base of vine-covered cliffs. To the
east, the Helena Louise floats serenely on the lagoon. Halfway out to the ship is a skiff crowded with men; another skiff sits on the sand. Immediately north of you, a rocky staircase is hewn into the cliff. Cookie, Lucy and your father are moving towards the skiff.
Nicholas stands alone at one edge of the beach. He has a rapier.
You splash into the rising surf and pain needles up your leg. Blood swirls out from your shoe in the shallow water, flowing over a small pointed stone.
You wait for a while
Time passes...
A shot rings out over the roar of the surf. Turning, you see that Lafond stands at the top of the cliff, a pistol in each hand. "Trying to sneak out the back, cowards? You will die like your brother, Falcon. Snivelling for mercy." He hands one gun to Crulley, standing nearby, and levels the other at Jamison.
You kill Crulley
Your dainty fists could not hurt Crulley.
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
Yes
You have no breath to speak. You nod once, never taking your eyes off Nicholas Jamison.
Nicholas looks determined. "I accept. So long as my people go free
if I win. Order your dragoons to obey us, then." In answer, Lafond jumps off the cliff like a huge brocaded bat to land in front of Captain Jamison. "Die then, fool!"
The pistol, spinning from Lafond's grip, drops to the sand nearby.
You get the pistol
Taken.
Lafond immediately takes the advantage, forcing Nicholas in a
retreat towards the foaming surf. But Nicholas fights hard, jaw set, ignoring his wounds. Lafond finally loses his smile.
Behind the duellists, far away atop the cliff, you notice Crulley
madly reloading the pistol.
You put the powder in the pistol
You pour a lumpy stream of gunpowder mixture into the barrel of the pistol tamping it as best you can.
Suddenly the force of the duel turns, Nicholas advancing against Lafond's retreat. Their blades silently flash in the moonlight. Lafond is pressed back into the shadow of the cliff, sweat beading on his forehead. Abruptly, Jamison leaps forward, metal scrapes, and his rapier licks neatly into Lafond's ribs, like a snake slipping into its burrow. The body of the governor of St. Sinistra convulses, as in amazement, then sags dead on the sword.
Nicholas removes a gold ring from the dead man's finger, throwing
his own cheap copy into the surf.
Far above him, Crulley moves down the stairs.
You check what you're carrying
You have a powder horn, a pistol, a silver tray, a large key, a cotton frock, a shirt, breeches and your reticule (hanging from your wrist). It seems that your reticule contains a bit of mirror, a missive, a jewelled brooch, smelling salts and a banknote. You are wearing a beautiful ball gown, a garter, your kid slippers and a linen chemise. Crulley is levelling the pistol, feet apart, braced by the cliff
wall.
You get the ring
Captain Jamison curls his fist around it. "This is the family ring lost with my brother."
Crulley carefully aims the pistol, a triumphal grin benighting his face. Nicholas turns and walks smiling towards you, oblivious to his danger.
You shoot Crulley
Trembling, you fire the heavy pistol. You hear its loud report over roaring surf. Crulley staggers, hit, and falls from the cliff. The gun falls from your nerveless hands.
Time stops as you and Nicholas gaze at one another, adoring and
amazed. Slowly he bows and offers his hand.
Chestnut hair, tousled by the wind, frames the tanned oval of his
face. His eyes, twin seas of blue, devour you with a love deep and true-hearted, and you are pulled into his embrace, your mouth on his, lips parted, thirsting, arching into his kiss...

As dawn breaks over the eastern seas, you stand with Nicholas on his ship, looking north. "I have nothing left in England," he says. "There I am but a destitute gentleman, wanted for piracy. Here -- this isle holds too many memories; your father may have it. Mayhap my brother's wife yet lives. I must try to find her, either way." He takes you into his arms. "Come with me, my love? To America -- they tell of endless fertile fields and strange beasts in that wild land. It won't be easy, but we will have each other. Together, shall we carve a kingdom blessed with fair children and freedom?"
You wrap your arms about his waist and lean into him, and smile at
the rising sun.

In 437 turns, you have achieved a score of 25 out of 25 points.
Thus you have finished the story of PLUNDERED HEARTS, earning the title, "Happily Ever After."
You may start over, restore a saved position, or end this session of the game. (Type RESTART, RESTORE, or QUIT):
You enter the boat
The skiff is out of reach. Wade into the shallows.
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
You enter lagoon
You are holding your skirts high over the warm, lapping waves of the shallows. A white sand beach is west of you.
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
You enter the boat
You are now in the skiff.
Lafond calls down to you, "My pretty doxy, do make up your mind. Yes
or no?"
Row to ship
You dip the oars and pull them towards you. The skiff plows through the lagoon.
You hear distant shots and screams, and gaze back across the
restless waves to the massacre on the beach. The sight blurs with your tears of shame, tears for the father and the lover you left behind.

The tale you tell Jamison's crew, of rapine and blood, of your
heroic attempt to save their captain, and of your own escape after his death in your arms, is not so far from the truth that you cannot appear sincere. Cannily, you take advantage of their temporary grief, select a private guard, and teach the rest the discipline of the whip. You have started on the ruthless road to revenge. You intend to meet Lafond again, and that time, you intend to win.

In 433 turns, you have achieved a score of 25 out of 25 points.
Thus you have finished the story of PLUNDERED HEARTS, earning the title, "Pirate Queen." There are other, perhaps more satisfying, conclusions.
You may start over, restore a saved position, or end this session of the game. (Type RESTART, RESTORE, or QUIT):
You get all
I don't see what you're referring to.
Sounds of scraping hook against stone and curses echo out of the
well, muffled by the trapdoor.
You get the stone
Taken.
A shot rings out over the roar of the surf. Turning, you see that Lafond stands at the top of the cliff, a pistol in each hand. "Trying to sneak out the back, cowards? You will die like your brother, Falcon. Snivelling for mercy." He hands one gun to Crulley, standing nearby, and levels the other at Jamison.
You throw the stone at Lafond
You hurl the stone, but it falls far short of Lafond.
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
Sling stone at Lafond
You'll have to put the stone into the garter.
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
You put the stone in the garter
You're not holding the stone.
A shot rings out over the roar of the surf. Turning, you see that Lafond stands at the top of the cliff, a pistol in each hand. "Trying to sneak out the back, cowards? You will die like your brother, Falcon. Snivelling for mercy." He hands one gun to Crulley, standing nearby, and levels the other at Jamison.
You get the stone
Taken.
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
You get the stone
You already have the stone.
Lafond calls down to you, "My pretty doxy, do make up your mind. Yes
or no?"
You put the stone in the garter
Not while you're wearing the garter.
Lafond cries, "No deal then. Take them, men!" The dragoons pour down the cliff.
You put the stone in the garter
Not while you're wearing the garter.
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
You remove the garter
[in front of Crulley]
That's not done in polite society.
Lafond calls down to you, "My pretty doxy, do make up your mind. Yes
or no?"
Wait
Time passes...
As the gun fires, Cookie throws himself before his captain. He cries out, blood blossoming on his shoulder, and falls face first into the sand. Lucy runs to him.
Jamison yells up the cliff, brandishing his sword. "Fight like a
man, Lafond. You have drawn my blood once tonight -- let me draw yours."
Lafond sneers. "On one condition. If I win, your lady comes to me.
You will have no need of her when you are dead."
Nicholas stiffens, glances at the dragoons on the cliff above, and turns slowly to you. He says nothing, his face hard, but his eyes tell you what you want to know. "Answer, my darling. Yes or no?"
No
You shake your head firmly, "No."
Lafond cries, "No deal then. Take them, men!" The dragoons pour down the cliff.
Yes
You have no breath to speak. You nod once, never taking your eyes off Nicholas Jamison.
Nicholas looks determined. "I accept. So long as my people go free
if I win. Order your dragoons to obey us, then." In answer, Lafond jumps off the cliff like a huge brocaded bat to land in front of Captain Jamison. "Die then, fool!"
The pistol, spinning from Lafond's grip, drops to the sand nearby.
You get the pistol
Taken.
Lafond immediately takes the advantage, forcing Nicholas in a
retreat towards the foaming surf. But Nicholas fights hard, jaw set, ignoring his wounds. Lafond finally loses his smile.
Behind the duellists, far away atop the cliff, you notice Crulley
madly reloading the pistol.
Fire pistol in air
You fire the pistol into the air. Startled by the loud report, Crulley jerks his pistol and fires, aiming not at Nicholas, but at you. You hear a distant scream, your own, and watch, as through from afar, your father wrestle Crulley to the ground. You feel only numbness as loving arms take you up, and Nicholas kisses you into death, his tears damp on your cheek.

***   You have died   ***

In 435 turns, you have achieved a score of 25 out of 25 points.
Thus you have finished the story of PLUNDERED HEARTS, earning the title, "Love Transcending Death." There are other, perhaps more satisfying, conclusions.
You may start over, restore a saved position, or end this session of the game. (Type RESTART, RESTORE, or QUIT):