Fri, May 18 2012
| TITLE: | Verne of the West |
|---|---|
| AUTHOR: | Michelle Estelle |
| CATEGORY/TYPE: | |
| RATING/WARNINGS: | NC-17 |
| MAIN CHARACTERS: | |
| DESCRIPTION: | rip roaring guest appearances. |
| STATUS: | Complete |
"Rebecca, tell me again why we are dragging ourselves out to this god-forsaken Americana wilderness?" Phileas interjects.
"You know full well, why we are here. Chatsworth has had reports of the Prometheus flying over the area, and suspects the League may be going to sabotage railway system." Rebecca issues, "If you do not wish to participate, remain here and enjoy your claret."
"That is uncalled for, you know I always accompany you on your jaunts." Fogg answers. "You have been a foul mood ever since we received that birth announcement from Clemens."
Rebecca turns abruptly and heads to her room. In her heart she knows he is right. That could have been her child, her family. Why in the name of Heaven did she forsake him for Phileas? She heaves a sigh, knowing Fogg will always come first in her life. But, why did he always have to be such an impertinent ass?
Jules enters the main compartment to find Phileas staring blankly into his glass, and grumbling under his breath. Verne knows this means he is once again on the outs with Rebecca. Their years together had taught him much, but never dulled his youthful enthusiasm or curiosity. He approaches cautiously not wishing to have his ears boxed in the backlash.
"Fogg, I fear there is something more at stake than the railway." Jules states. "It seems too small a target for Count Gregory's tastes."
"It does indeed. But, what else is there?" Fogg answers. "Look down .... Nothing except, farmland and bison, what could the League possibly want? "
"Buffalo, Fogg." Jules replies.
What, Verne? " Fogg shakes his head, not sure if he is being rebuffed.
"Buffalo, the correct term for the North American Bison." A dime novel falls from Jules' pocket.
"So, that is what has your imagination stirred." Phileas throws back his head in laughter. "Jules Verne conqueror of the Great American West."
Passepartout enters the room with tea and sandwiches. He casually pours the tea and serves the repast. The Aurora had needed little tending; fair weather, a straight course, but he came to check from time to time. After all, a grand lady deserves attention. He was so attuned to his task that the banter around him was lost in the process. Rebecca remembering it was high tea returned to the room. The valet noticed her somber disposition of late and truly hoped this trip would be just the thing to restore her vitality.
"Verne, fancies himself a cowboy." Fogg grins at Rebecca. "That's it, he can use his faithful lariat to foul the Count."
"Really Phileas, Jules is allowed to read what ever he chooses." Rebecca answers, "You are being entirely unfair."
Jules takes some sandwiches and heads outside as he suddenly feels uncomfortable in the others' presence. He peers down from the railing at the vast expanse of prairie below.
The brown patches moving steadily, spreading, dispersing and rejoining like wave caps on an ocean current. Small cream and dark colored dots trail and seep in and out. For a moment Verne is on that horse, challenging that magnificent beast of the prairie with only a spear and his wits. The adrenaline surges within him, his heart hammers wildly. He closes fast on his prey, his arm swings back. A long sorrowful cry, coming from a steam locomotive in the distance brings him round. He sees the puffs of smoke, the winding tracks spidering outward and signs of a military outpost. Then he feels the steady downward pull that tells him their destination must be close by. His eyes glance down one more time and his head fills with daydreams about another life, one of hardship, endurance and courage. No one is there to hear the sigh, as he turns to enter the main compartment once more.
"If anyone at the club had wagered I would set foot in Willow Creek, Nebraska, I would have bet heavily against it." Phileas shakes his head. "Eh, Verne?"
"Well, it doesn't have that typical Fogg ambience, no..." Jules answers.
Are you boys enjoying yourselves?" Rebecca chides
"Really Rebecca, why are we here? There has to be more than railway....." Verne insists
"Actually Jules, I was waiting to let you in on this." She replies. "Chatsworth got wind that they've sent Phil Sheridan along with a General Custer out here."
"Sheridan? Wasn't he a right boil on Von Kessler's bum during the war?" Fogg spouts.
"He was sent to observe the Prussians, yes." Rebecca chuckles.
"Two generals? What on earth could merit that much military hierarchy?" puzzles Jules.
"Something more pressing than your buffalo, Verne. Of that I'm certain," answers Phileas.
Passepartout nestles the Aurora down into an open field of soft high grass. The stark flatness surrounding them precludes any possibility of stealth. Knowing that the soldiers will be soon on their way, the valet beats a hasty path to the main compartment to await his master's wishes. As he enters the room it signals his companions that now is the time to make ready.
"Master?" Passepartout questions.
"Quite right Passepartout, we should be leaving momentarily." Fogg responds.
Rebecca releases an exasperated puff of air with lips closed, and shakes her head as she leaves the room to venture outside. Jules stifles a chuckle. The others file behind her, and follow her to the open air; breathing deeply to capture the sweet aroma of fresh virgin wheat grass unspoiled by this new age of industrialization. They make their way towards the fort, hoping to gain the information needed. Cavalry horses are soon upon them, and it is made abundantly clear that such unusual visitors will be fully questioned upon arrival.
The gates to Fort McPherson swing wide, allowing them entrance. A prompt escort brings our party directly to headquarters, where the post commandant sits in waiting. He casts a stern look with a furrowed brow, sizing their mettle. Passepartout is glancing in all directions, trying to take in the full of the situation. Jules melts like ice in the spring sun. But the Foggs meet his gaze head on.
"Just what I need more fancy pants foreigners." The commandant intones. "A dandy and his butler. What next?"
"Dandy? What is meaning dandy? Passepartout no being a butler. I am a valet!" Jean's eyes deepen with ire.
"Well it seems your boy has backbone, at least." The military man turns to Phileas. "Does he wipe your nose, as well as your hindquarters.
Fogg smacks him hard with the backside of his hand. "That remark is not deserving, of my fist."
The commandant rubs his hand across his aching jaw, then surprisingly slaps Phileas on the back. "I like your spirit. Colonel James Marshall Masterson, would you care for a bourbon?" He asks.
"Certainly, and might I inquire what other foreigners are about?" Fogg requests.
"Hell it's no secret. The Grand Duke Alexis of Russia has taken it in his head to go on a buffalo hunt, and the State Department says we have to bend over and kiss his backside. Orders is orders," Masterson answers.
"Now it all makes sense." Rebecca illuminates. "The League is planning an assault on the Grand Duke."
"My dear lady, I am certain my scouts would inform me if anything were out of order," The Colonel reassures.
A knock is heard at the door, followed by a request for admittance. Masterson issues a throaty grumble and a small rustic figure enters. He has a rifle sheath across one shoulder; his clothes are encrusted with mud and dust. The bristles on his leathery chin seem to vibrate as he intones.
"The train is 'bout here and it looks might like a Fourth of July parade out there, Sir," the man reports.
"Thank you, Shorty. That will be all," Masterson replies. "If you will excuse me, I have a train to meet."
"Colonel Masterson please permit us to accompany you." Rebecca insists "We are envoys of the British government, sent by special request."
Phileas raises a brow at the remark. But it was exactly what the situation called for, as the commandant relents and allows them to join him. They are issued horses and soon on their way. The Colonel is flanked on both sides by his best contingent in full dress regalia. As the train nears Verne notices more horses and cavalrymen all following in precise unison, with Colonel's troop added it did indeed seem like some enormous grand parade. Even from a distance it was plain to see which railway car held the Czar's precious son. Though not as lavish as the ones Jules had witnessed the European royalty travelling in, it was still appointed on a luxurious scale and hopelessly out of place in its prairie surroundings. The League would have a difficult time seizing a target so heavily guarded.
A man in scout's uniform approaches them, his presence is commanding. A tuft of honey blonde hair on his chin puffs out like a milk pod about to burst its seeds. A merry twinkle comes in his eyes when he spots Rebecca. He brings his horse to counter both the Colonel and the lady.
"Woah, Buckskin Joe! " He calls as his horse kneels in front of them; he makes a broad sweeping motion with his hat. "William Cody reporting as ordered. Spotted Tail has been briefed and is in full agreement."
"Very Good, Bill. I knew you could do it. Hell, you could charm the honey comb from a queen bee," Masterson replies.
"Speaking of charm...Who is this charming prairie rose, whose beauty rivals even my own fair Louisa?" Cody asks
"Rebecca Fogg, my good sir," Rebecca answers.
Jules fumbles in his pockets for his book, he leafs through it wildly. His eyes light up as his entire body is jolted with enthusiasm. In his excitement he loses his grip on the reins and starts to tumble off the horse but recovers quickly and approaches the scout.
"You ...You ... You're him." He points to the book. "Buffalo Bill Cody. You're real."
"A bit more real than Ned Buntline would have you believe, boy" Laughs Bill, "But, it sells books all the same."
"Russian Czars, Spackeled Tails, Buffaloes Bill...." Passepartout shakes his head.
The train stops at the Fort, as it takes on water the Colonel rushes to greet his honored guest. The Generals are already there. Custer with his Rumplestiltskin spun straw golden locks and small stature, casting great contrast to Sheridan's barrel chest and thick ebony moustache. As, they approach a look of acknowledgement comes across Sheridan's face, and Rebecca gives a nod in his direction. The bugler plays a fan-fare and the men simultaneously raise their swords in salute. An elegant figure full of grace and bearing steps out of the coach. The 2d Cavalry Band breaks into "Hail to the Chief". He somehow seems the missing piece in this ever-widening jigsaw of posturing and flourish. As the Grand Duke steps out to greet his military public, a wave of motion passes through the crowd as they bow in recognition.
"Your Grace" The Colonel imparts.
"How wonderful," a rich warm thickly accented voice exudes. "The general's of course always a pleasure. And what an unexpected delight, King Carl of Montravia and his private entourage, it has been a long time since you were last at court."
The last remark causes a snicker to come from the Foggs and Verne. Passepartout shakes his head as his doppelganger returns to haunt him once more.
"Respectably your Highness, I am not being King Carl. Similar faces yes, but I am not him, my apologies." Passepartout politely replies.
"Astounding, as alike as two eggs from the same hen." Answers Alexis, "But, obviously you are aware of this. There is a tale in that, I'd wager."
"There is indeed if it pleases your highness, we can speak of it over brandy, sometime. Phileas Fogg of Shillingworth Magna at your disposal." Fogg relates.
"I would enjoy that more if your lovely companion were present." The Grand Duke kisses Rebecca's hand.
"Rebecca Fogg, your grace." Rebecca responds.
"Pardon my intrusion. But, the coach is ready to take to you to South Platte, where we stop at Medicine Creek. There we will have lunch, and change horses if need be" The Colonel announces.
"Miss Fogg, would you care to accompany the generals and I in the coach? "Alexis inquires. "I am certain the ride would be far more enjoyable than horseback."
"I would be honored, Your Highness." Rebecca answers.
An open-air coach and four is brought along side the train. A small bevy of attendants swarm around the royal guest making sure his every need is sated, before allowing him onto the coach. All eyes are on Miss Fogg as a well-turned ankle is lifted to take her seat with the Grand Duke. The flaxen haired general gives a mischievous wink, showing even a married man can appreciate beauty. Sheridan clears his throat and nods in her direction. She returns his nod with a smile.
"Miss Fogg, did you ever finish your business with our mutual Prussian acquaintance?" Sheridan asks.
No I have been unable to give him the business, as it were." She responds, "Trust me his merits will not go without proper attention."
"You are indeed a delight, Rebecca." His black moustache flits about like plumage, as he releases a deep boisterous chuckle.
"Somehow I feel his Grace and I are at a disadvantage sir," Custer interjects, "With the lady's permission, kindly tell us how it is you came to know each other?"
"Miss Fogg?
Rebecca nods, and Sheridan relates.
"It was during the War in Europe. The State Department sent me as an observer to the Prussians. I was to watch over the military strategies of one their best. General Baron Wilhelm Marie Ernst Hohenbergen von Kessler a cold, cruel, unmitigated bastard of a man, a brilliant soldier mind you...... Anyway, it seemed the Foggs had dealings with the Prussians before. I was informed of all sorts of covert activities. Including medicinal compounds designed to sap a man's will as well as distort his mental capabilities. Bearing this in mind, I rather turned the other direction and let Miss Rebecca handle the situation of her own accord."
"For the record, I received no assistance from General Sheridan in any form." Rebecca chuckles evilly.
"I believe you wholly, the Russian Empire is well aware that Von Kessler is the right hand of Otto von Bismarck." Alexis laughs deeply.
"How you holdin' up there, boy?" Buffalo Bill rides up next to Jules.
"Fine, just fine......" Verne grits through his teeth
"We'll be at Medicine Creek soon enough, and you can rest a might." Responds Cody. "Then we meet with Spotted Tail and the Sioux at Camp Alexis on the Willow."
"Passepartout should be saying he was King Carl. Then I would be in the coach and not having sore saddles." The valet interjects.
"Yes, it would be nice to have someone there to um...back-up, Rebecca." Phileas surmises.
Medicine Creek is clear and shallow, with welcomed shade from the mid day heat. Cool water renews the horses, they bray and whinny about, some are left with a company of soldiers who have camped here with replacements. The coach's horses are exchanged as a precaution. The Grand Duke's attendants seem to pop out of nowhere bearing wine and cheeses. Phileas sets out to find Rebecca. Passepartout spots the Royal Party and informs them of his master's desire to speak to his cousin.
"Come join us, friends," Alexis invites. "You are more than welcome."
"Thank you, your Grace. We'd be honored." Fogg replies.
"Yes, have a seat Phileas. Alexis was just saying that, American caviar while not sterlet or beluga was definitely preferable to hard tac." Rebecca giggles.
"Alexis?" Jules says under his breath.
Passepartout tugs at Jules sleeve and points out some Natives moving about in the brush. They make their apologies and wander off to investigate. They carefully move to where the last saw the Indians, but they seemed to have vanished without a trace.
"Now what are you boys up to?" Cody asks.
"We saw some Indians in the bushes." Passepartout answers.
Jules releases a startled gulp before replying, "Yes, they were here one minute and then gone."
"If'n they were Sioux you wouldn't 've seen hide ner hair o''em in the first place." Buffalo Bill retorts. "I'll talk to Spotted Tail, we'll see what's goin' on."
"You are meaning there are more Indians?" Jean inquires.
"Shouldn't be. Just get ready to saddle up, we're headin' out again." Responds Cody.
They find themselves bumping and jerking across the prairie on their way to the Brule Sioux encampment. Fogg's eyes continually stray to the open-air coach ahead of them. Even his horse feels the tenseness, as he tightens up every time Rebecca's cheerful laugh is heard. At last they reach their destination. Teepees and military tents litter the landscape in all directions. Horses and braves pass through scrutinizing every man in detail as if they were as transparent as glass, open and vulnerable revealing all. The three men meet up with Rebecca and her companions. Finely, woven, intricately Designed Oriental rugs cover the floor in the Grand Duke tent. Even the bare essentials are upscale for the sake of Royal diplomacy. Spotted Tail himself soon arrives with Buffalo Bill.
"Welcome Honored Chief, " Alexis offers
"It I who am honored your Grace." Spotted Tail replies and bows.
"No, no you are leader here. I am a guest in your land. I will do my best to honor your customs as you have honored mine." Replies the Grand Duke.
"Then let's share food and drink and celebrate your arrival. Tonight my braves will demonstrate their courage. Then we will show to you the Brule Dance of War." The chief announces.
"This calls for champagne." Alexis motions for his servants.
Jules and Passepartout feel awkward and out of place in this small place crammed with the social elite, so the venture out to explore their surroundings. Everywhere they look they see women and children hard at work, making pots, drying meat and fish, tanning hides, sewing and mending. Jules thinks back to his daydream, and wonders what his life would be born here. There is a small girl tending a stew pot by the fire, she is far to close and her dress catches fire. Passepartout acts with lighting speed, quells the fire and scoops the little one up in his arms.
"There we go." He reassures, "We wouldn't want so pretty a little girl to be having sc-"
He stops short, seeing a hurt look in her deep brown eyes. It is only then that he sees her arms and legs have been riddled with small pox scars. His heart aches for one so beautiful to be disfigured in such a way. He knows God in wisdom has spared not only her life, but her face as well. He puts her down gently and smiles.
"You should be being more careful. I am glad that you are safe." He says then pulls a small magnifying glass from his pocket, and hands it to the girl. "It is for making little things look big." She examines the gift, and gives a shy frightened glance not sure if she should accept. And then runs up to him, gives a hug, and runs quickly away.
"It seems you have made a friend." Jules grins.
"The little one, she must have great will " The valet concludes, a look of anguish comes over him "She has surviv-ed the pox. It swept through Malta when I was a boy. I was spared but, there were being whole villages lost to it."
There is a moment of hesitation. Jules knows there is something more, something so painful his friend cannot bear to speak of it. Verne knows not to pry, if Jean wants him to know the words will come in time. Just looking in those dark eyes, Jules finds his heart feeling with remorse joining emotional ties between the two. An impulse causes Verne to give Passepartout a quick slap on the back to break the cycle. The valet straightens sharply.
"Come, let's get back to the others." Jules urges.
The bonfire's amber fingers reach out to grasp, twilight's melting streams of orange, blending into pink, and vivid violet cascading across the heavens. A slow steady drumbeat, like Gaia's heart echoing calls out to them as Verne and Passepartout are seated next to their friends, in front of the warm glowing embers. The first Sioux brave rides out on his horse, he flips up and over its back and finishes on his knees. More riders come flipping and turning in precision. Next they wage mock battles, spears thrown whizzing inches past each other. Axes spinning through the skillfully coming as close to their targets as physically possible and still missing their mark. The crowd is awestruck. Buffalo Bill Cody nods his head as he intently watches. At last the drums deepen, their pace quickens and the Brule begin to move in time, their faces and chests painted blood red, an their axes raised high. Faces fill with shadow, and they spin as the rhythm intensifies possessing them calling them to battle. Some of the soldiers take on anxious worried looks, wondering if this reality or show. When Spotted Tail himself comes out, and signals them to halt, sigh of relief can be heard throughout the crowd.
"Good night my friends. Rest, we hunt tomorrow." The chief announces.
Day breaks and they saddle up. Verne and Passepartout start out with Cody but are soon outflanked. Rebecca and Phileas ride with Alexis and the generals. The excitement overtakes the Grand Duke; he rides down the hill with such fury a cloud of dust is kicked up by the horse's hooves. A small band of Natives ride along beside him. When the dust clears, Alexis has vanished. Fogg barks out to the generals to get their scouts, while the trail is still fresh. Cody has seen everything and is there in a flash, he jumps off his horse to examine the ground, and gain his bearings. A wave of panic hits the military men and an entire troop comes thundering in obscuring any signs left by Alexis' captors.
"Damn Fool, IDIOTS!" Cody outrages. "How in the hell, do you expect me to track a man with no trail?"
"We must split up before they can make it back to the Prometheus." Advises Fogg, "If they take flight, it will mean certain war between Russia and the States."
"You are right, Phileas." Rebecca answers, "That is Gregory's plan. The Czar will blame the Sioux, and the American Military. Up to his usual fiendish standards."
"NO time to lose, then." Verne shouts, "Passepartout and I will head south."
"I'll be joinin'up with ya'" Cody imparts.
"Rebecca and I will take the west." Responds Fogg
"I will back you up." Sheridan adds, "Custer, How about you and yours take the east?"
"Yes, of course." Custer replies. "I'll send Masterson and his boys to back track the north."
"On second thought, Passepartout go back for the Aurora you can spot the Prometheus from the air." Fogg issues.
"Yes, Master." Jean answers
"God speed, Passepartout." Replies Phileas.
They break up and spread their different ways. Cody frantically searches for signs of a Trail. He is rewarded by finding a patch of prairie grass that is bent in the opposite direction. He motions the Foggs to follow. The evidence becomes clearer they move faster, soon they spy the Prometheus. It is rising. Cody manages to snag it with his lasso. Making Fogg's previous jocularity seem somehow prophetic. As Buffalo Bill ascends to the heavens, Phileas takes hold of the rope. Leaving Rebecca stranded, soon she standing on the horse's back and in one incredible arched leap her hands grasp hemp tether.
Passepartout reaches the Aurora; he and the horse are both panting wildly. He leaves the horse to find its way back to fort, and runs to the controls. Scanning the sky as the dirigible takes flight, the handsome valet spots something dark in the distance. Acting on the chance it could be the Prometheus he heads in that direction.
Verne sees his Native companions, pointing to the sky behind him. The Aurora causes quite a commotion. Jules motions and then heads off at a furious gallop knowing if he is to help his friends he must meet up with the dirigible. The braves follow his lead blindly not knowing what danger they face.
Cody makes the final inches onto the Prometheus and keeps guard until Fogg is also on board. Then the two of them pull Rebecca and the rope aboard.
"Why do I get the feeling I am a bee in a hornet's nest?" Buffalo Bull whispers.
"It's far worse than that. More like a mouse retrieving his dinner from the belly of a lion." Fogg replies.
"Quiet down you two, Alexis needs us. If he isn't dead already." Rebecca answers.
"There are scuff marks on the deck in that direction." Cody points, "Our boy didn't give in without a fight."
Alexis hangs manacled against the wall, the men around him snicker and spit as they pass.
"You will forgive me if I punish you for the Czar taking the throne that should have rightfully been given to me." Gregory booms.
"Who are you? What throne has my father usurped?" The Grand Duke queries.
"I am Lucifer and this is your private Hell." The Count answers.
The trio lies in wait outside the door, listening to every word trying to decide on a plan of action.
"I've heard enough...You too distract the head man. Without a leader, I should be able to free the Grand Duke." Cody suggests.
"It's as good a plan as any." Fogg answers "I'm in, Rebecca?"
She nods and begins to pick the lock. The men crouch and prepare for action. The door swings open; Phileas releases a quick volley of shots causing general confusion. Rebecca's legs move so quickly it seems as if she is a whirlwind herself. Her heels connect plowing through the minions to reach the Count. As promised the scout skillfully navigates his way through to free Alexis. Once free it is the Grand Duke who manages to liberate a sword from one of captors and fight his way through to freedom. Once on deck they come to sudden realization there is no where to go. The sheer drop would surely kill them. With the Count's minions right on their heels the head for the rail. Peering over they meet a with a minor miracle. Passepartout has pulled the Aurora under the Prometheus. Rebecca makes a swan dive over the railing and land flat on the dirigible's hull. The others soon follow a storm of arrows flies past to make their mark on the Prometheus. The Aurora descends taking them to the safety of the ground. Jules rushes to help his friends scale down the side of the great air-ship.
"This ship is amazing, Fogg." Alexis responds. "I had no idea the British Secret Service had such a weapon."
"It is not a weapon and it does not belong to the government." Phileas replies. "It is for my personal transport. Rebecca only commandeers on occasion."
"May I have a tour?" The Grand Duke asks
"Of course, your Grace." Fogg answers "I'll have Passepartout see to it. At the moment I am in grave need of a brandy."
Passepartout smiles at the news that he gets to show the Grand Duke the inner beauty of his favorite lady. Alexis marvels at every turn, finding Passepartout's work shop the most fascinating. They end the excursion in main compartment where Alexis joins Phileas in a brandy.
"Are we huntin' Buffalo, or sippin' at the saloon?" Cody asks.
Soon, they are back at Camp Alexis saddled up and ready to ride again. Just for peace of mind Cody stepped down and allowed Alexis to take Buckskin Joe's reigns. Passepartout is fixed by special request, at the Grand Duke's side. Buffalo Bill restrains his Royal charge as a large herd approaches.
"Remember the sport is in the chase." Cody remarks "Don't fire until you get a clear shot."
Alexis once again takes after the buffalo this time he meets with success. Sheridan himself takes down the next beast. Soon they are on their way, dragging their prizes back to be skinned and cleaned. As, they enter the camp the little girl runs to Jean and hugs him once more. She hands him a necklace made from crudely fashioned beads. He smiles and thanks her.
The Grand Duke approaches; the girl is frightened and scurries away. They walk and tour the encampment. Alexis is an ever-flowing fountain of questions. Wishing to know every aspect of the Aurora's inner workings, how Passepartout came to work for the Foggs. How does Jules fit into all of this? The valet answers every query. Suddenly, he stops still. There is a sound like distant thunder growing louder, and closer. Stampede! The child is in the direct path of the herd. Alexis thinks he hears the man say, "Not again," under his breath as he speeds out to the girl. The physical grace and agility astounds the Grand Duke as he watches Jean flip and turn, soon he has the girl safely tucked under his arm, and he returns to his Royal host. "You are as incredible as the ship you fly." Announces the Grand Duke. "Come back with me, my friend."
"I already have an employer." Passepartout answers.
"You misunderstand. I have servants. I need an advisor. I want you at court. You are a wise man, Jean Passepartout." Alexis requests.
The valet's face reddens with embarrassment. "I could not leave the Fogg's or the Aurora." The little girl tugs at his sleeve, he lifts her onto his shoulders. "You will be kind enough to excuse me, your Grace."
Jules sees the valet approaching, with the child on his shoulders. His step seems livelier, his expression one of pure contentment.
"I see you have found your friend once more." Jules remarks. "Be careful or we will have a stowaway on the Aurora."
"I know I can not be keeping her." he laughs warmly. An older woman comes to them; she speaks to the child in their native tongue. The girl slips slowly down the valet's back. She looks up at him, wanting to stay but leaves with the woman. The striped vest man heaves a heavy sigh.
"She is so much like my Jeanette." Passepartout confesses. A puzzled look comes across Verne's face.
"My baby sister. She was so like me when she was born, father insisted. She would ride on shoulders. Sometimes she would dress in my old clothes and sneak aboard the ship, to be with me." A low chuckle is heard. "She died from the pox. Only ten years old, I begged for God to take me and make her well again." The dark eyes are over run with moisture, tears stream down his face.
Verne wraps an arm around his friend's shoulder and they head back to the Aurora.
"If there is one thing I won't tolerate, it's a long face." Cody exudes, "You boys, fetch your friends. I've a surprise in mind for the Grand Duke."
As the campfire burns brightly, the braves once again show of their horsemanship. Cody's loud resounding voice calls attention to a new addition, Jean Passepartout. The valet performs his circus acrobatics, while remaining on the horse. The awestruck crowd is even more amazed, as he dismounts and begins to juggle fiery pummels.
Next, the cousins show their excellent skill with pistols. Beginning first by tossing coins in the air and pegging them dead center. Then they take to horseback, and moving targets are struck down, with perfect accuracy. They dismount, and each drills a piece of fruit on the other's head. A hush comes over the crowd as, Phileas shows deadly nerve by holding a coin in front of his face, then outreach his arm with coin in fingers. Rebecca obliges, stealing the show. The soldiers stand and cheer, as Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show is born.