Chapter 4

"Pardon me, sir?" Jules said to the Director of the Law Department at the Sorbonne University. Jules just stood by the desk, mouth agape. He shut it to swallow and was about to ask if there was some mistake, but the director waved him into a chair, smiling at him. Jules felt like he had made a mess of this already. This is an honor, and I've mucked my acceptance.

"Do not be so surprised," the older gentlemen said as he said after Jules Verne sat. The director, a graying grandfatherly man in a gray suit, blended well with the gray dust covering his desk, shelves and the books strewn around the office. "Despite your past lackluster attitude toward studies, your recent improvements have been noted. Many of your professors think highly of your potential. This honor falls to the student that shows the most promise of using the opportunity wisely. The course of your studies has already been set. You will attend Cambridge for one semester."

"But, sir," Jules said–and was cut off with a raised hand.

"I am aware of your circumstances," the director said. "The honor comes with room and board while you attend. There will also be a modest stipend. You can leave as soon as you are ready. Oh, your lodging will not be ready until the day before classes start, but I believe you have friends in England. A Mister Fogg if I remember correctly? The gentleman has written to me of your absences in the last year. Perhaps you could request lodging of him in the time between. I mention this because there is a lecture in London you should not miss this Friday. It is a comparison of English and Napoleonic law. The speaker is exceptional, and a renowned expert. It would serve you well to hear him."

"I understand, sir," Jules said.

I really can't believe this. However, I would be an idiot to refuse an honor offered to me by my professors.

"I will leave as soon as I receive word from my friend," he said.

"Fine, fine," the director said with a wave. "Good luck young man and do France and the university proud."

"Yes sir," Jules said as firmly as he could in his dazed state, and left the room.

A professor joined the director in his office shortly after Verne left. He looked up at the director with nervous fingers combing his mustache.

"Are you sure that young man is right for this? I catch his mind wandering in classes so often I've been tempted to leash him. You cannot be serious about sending him to represent us? His interest in law is transient at best."

"Verne will do fine," the director said. "His record is acceptable, and besides–he was requested."

The professor looked askance at that, but did not question his superior. His title was head of the law department, but some decisions were still made well above him.

"My goodness!" Rebecca said as she read the telegram Phileas had handed her. He had summoned her, at the last minute, for dinner with word of a special message from Jules. She handed the telegram back to Phileas, glancing at the door, waiting her tea. "This is quite an honor for him."

"And an unexpected one, I am sure," Phileas said. "Jules studies law at his father's insistence. How he impressed anyone enough to give him a semester at Cambridge is beyond my comprehension, but there it is. I assured Jules he would be welcome to stay here until his classes start. I expect him tomorrow evening. There is a lecture he is required to hear Friday."

"It will make it easier for us to keep an eye on him," Rebecca said, "with him and I at… Cambridge…"

Rebecca froze. Scraped pieces of a puzzle came together at lightning speed. The pattern the scraps were creating did not just surprise her; they made her markedly suspicious. She looked up at her cousin to see his reaction to her stumbling speech. Phileas was on the other side of the room pouring wine and didn't seem to have noticed. She re-pasted on her smile before he could turn around.

Passepartout's dinner, as usual, was superb. They enjoyed a companionable evening together. She went home, making a point of waking early to see Sir Jonathan.

"I knew it!"

Rebecca stormed out of Chatsworth's office after a major argument, one she had lost due to lack of seniority. Other agents and clerks in the hall gave her a wide berth, not knowing the problem, but seeing her face gave them reason enough not to draw attention. Shet drove through the door of her office and gave it a sound shove to close it. The loud slam was satisfying, but not nearly enough to soothe her.

I don't think I have ever been so furious with Chatsworth. "The officious toad!" She said, using one of her cousin's favorite insults for Chatsworth. "How dare he presume to put a foreign national on a surveillance mission? I could cheerfully strangle the man." Not only that, but Chatsworth had put Jules under her authority, making it look as if she had been the one to lead him to this.

Jules will have already landed in Dover by now. Chatsworth has sent an agent to bring Jules to Whitehall. All I can do now is wait and fume. Ugh, I could so kill the man!