Date: Mon, 12 Jan 2004 23:13:46 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Aladdin's Awakening:  Part 86

Usual Disclaimer: If you are not of an age to read this because of the laws
of your country or district please desist.  If you are a bigot or
prod-nosed fundamentalist of any persuasion find your monkey-spanking
literature elsewhere and keep your predilections and opinions to
yourself. Everyone else welcome and comments more than welcome.

This is a very long tale.  It unfolds over a good number of years.  What is
true, is true: what is not is otherwise.

			    ALADDIN'S AWAKENING

				    By

				   Joel


				CHAPTER 50

			July 1951 - September 1951

I wondered if Daniel would get bored as he was going to stay until I went
back to Ivry with him in the last week of September.  He'd been accepted at
the Sorbonne and was going to study English.  The stay would be so valuable
for him as I hoped he would be going back fluent.  I made him speak English
from the time we got on the Cross-Channel ferry.  For once the journey was
smooth and I made no quips about fatty bacon.

     He kept looking at me and smiling.  I knew he was excited.  A
completely new adventure.  He was going to be introduced to relations - my
mother and my sons - he was going to visit Ulvescott where other relations
had lived.  All being well his Swiss relation, Johann, would be arriving
sometime, too.  As I looked at him I saw the likeness between us.  We
really did look like two brothers.

     We got to London in the late afternoon and he was most impressed when
we arrived, by taxi, at the flat in Kensington Gore.  Ma was overwhelmed
and hugged him just like a long-lost son.  We had tea, sorted out his
bedroom, introduced him to John Parker who was just going off to play in
the orchestra and then he had his first trip on a London bus.  I chose a
number 9 first as I knew it would pass quite a few landmarks to visit on
his stay.  Along the Kensington Road, then Knightsbridge.  We passed Hyde
Park Corner and bowled along to Piccadilly.  I pointed out the statue of
Eros before went down Haymarket to Trafalgar Square where he stared up at
Nelson on his column.  We changed buses there to a number 11 and went down
Whitehall, saw Downing Street and the Houses of Parliament.  I explained
that Uncle Edward was a Member of Parliament and he would arrange a visit..
We got off at Sloane Square and so he also had his first trip on the London
Underground.  Just one stop to South Kensington and a walk back up
Exhibition Road past the museums.

     I think he was impressed.  He said he'd heard so much about London and
now he was here!  More surprises when we arrived back.  There was Tony and
a slim, smiling twenty- year-old.  Our cousin Johann!  He'd arrived two
days previously from Switzerland without me being told.  Ma was in her
element, she had been bottling all this up and was dying to tell when we
arrived.  Pa was in the background uncorking bottles of wine and laughing.
Lancashire hotpot - enough to gladden any young lad's heart - followed by
Ma's speciality, tarte aux pommes.  We sat up and talked until nearly
midnight.  What a day.

     Tony was sharing with Johann and so I shared with Daniel.  We were not
too tired to lie head to toe and share each other's spunk after a most
loving and sensuous rousing of our equally horny bodies.  The second time
he wanted to be fucked.  I did it as lovingly and tenderly as possible.  He
was all smiles and caresses after I had come inside him and he had produced
a further load which I had helped him squirt all over his belly and chest.
He giggled when I said he was my little Gallic coq and he had been stuffed
properly with good English sausage.  He wrinkled his nose and said he was
not so little and his big Gallic cock would conquer my English lion and
serve it with good French white sauce.  His English was certainly
improving!  We hugged each other tightly as we laughed, then slept side by
side facing each other, Daniel 's fingers linked with mine.

                              *
     I left him and Johann next day in the capable hands of Tony who was
going to show them the sights while I spent two days in Cambridge sorting
out things with Dr Blake.  Tony asked how the translation was going and I
promised to give him a summary when possible.  I said did he think I could
tell the lads as well - make their hair curl said Tony!  I couldn't return
Therese to Dr Blake as I had left the book very securely locked in the
bottom drawer of the desk Mrs Marcham had found for me and had installed in
my room at Kerslake.  There were my other treasures there as well.  Mike's
drawing of me and the cousinly-spunked handkerchief from that momentous
visit, oh so long ago, to Cardiff.

     My two days in Cambridge went well.  Dr Blake had the proof copy of my
article on the plagiarised book for me to check and send back to the
editor.  I outlined my rethinking of my opening chapters.  He smiled and
said "Much better".  He grinned when he handed me back my typed up version
of Part One and most of Part Two of the 'secret' book, both in the French
original and my tidied-up translation.  I had sorted out the philosophical
and discussion bits and he agreed I had done a good job on the translation.
I said I still had to comment on the bits pinched from Therese which I
hoped to do before I returned to Paris.  All in all he thought all was
coming on well.

     He then said he'd written to Lord Harford and outlined my findings.
He handed me Lord Harford's reply.  Lord H said, very concisely, every
family had skeletons in the cupboard, George and Arthur were real rattlers
but as far as he was concerned they were far enough in the past to kept
rattling.  He said Charley was very amused and so were Gussie and Bertie
but David, his eldest son, was not quite so enthusiastic.  Reading between
the lines I guessed David recognised fellow inclinations but forbore to
comment.  When I met Charley next I would ask him!

     He then wrote that there were boxes of old letters and materials in
his library.  Why not get me to visit and see if there was anything
relevant and if that King's lad wanted a job he could catalogue them.  The
King's lad was Tony.

     I said I thought that could be arranged.  I wanted to take the boys up
to Chester to see their great-grandparents so Tony could drive us and Maggy
the nursemaid there and we two could go on up to Garforth Hall in
Westmorland.  I could spend two or three days, return to Chester and Uncle
Edward would most probably take us back to Kerslake while Tony stayed on
cataloguing.

                              *
     Arriving back in London on Friday evening I found an exhausted Tony
and two very lively lads who had seen all sorts of sights.  We celebrated
Tony's twenty-second birthday that evening with a good meal at a restaurant
in the Brompton Road.  Pa insisted on paying!  Next day it was planned to
go to the South Bank to see the Festival of Britain exhibition.  Ma and Pa
said they would come too.  That was quite a day.  We marvelled at the
suspended Skylon, the Dome of Discovery was crowded, but we managed to see
everything.
  What got to me was how happy everyone was.  I suppose the war was now far
enough in the past and people could see these achievements.  Pa was a mine
of information about the scientific exhibits and Ma was intrigued with the
site for the new Concert Hall and art gallery.  The lads said it was a real
eye-opener and we ended up in Battersea Park with the huge funfair.

     My feet ached after that day out - my cock ached that night as extra
randy Daniel made sure his elderly cousin was deprived of his beauty sleep
- he was now fond of that phrase - as he wanked and sucked me until I was
emptied of every morsel of spunk.  Needless to say he was in the same state
when I finished with him.  We blamed our tiredness next day on the
exhausting time we'd had walking miles the day before.  Tony and Johann
looked a bit under the weather, too.  It was strange, Ma and Pa were their
usual buoyant selves!  Why were the youngsters so worn out?

     Sunday we just strolled in Hyde Park, round the Serpentine and heard
the ranters and ravers at Speakers Corner.  I think both Johann and Daniel
were impressed by the level of free speech which was allowed.  It seemed
the couple of policemen were there to tell the hecklers to keep their
shouts quieter so that the crowds could hear what the speakers were
haranguing everyone and everything about.

                              *
     I wanted to get back to Kerslake so Tony volunteered to stay on until
the end of the week and then bring the lads to Kerslake on Friday.  They
would then have 'done' London!

     Francis was at the drive gate on Monday morning as soon as my taxi
drew up.  Gosh, he would be three in a few weeks time!  The three months
I'd been away had made a difference.  He was now a real person.  He had
plenty to tell me, but first I had to see James.  James was in the back
garden.  He had heard the arrival and came bustling round.  Would I be
recognised?  "Dad!"  I had been.  He rushed at me and I lifted him up.
"And me," demanded Francis.  The taxi-driver was laughing.  He was still
unloading my six bags.  Six bags!  I put the boys down and paid him and he
drove off.

     That was the end of my day.  I spent hours with the pair.  We explored
a 'camp' Francis had made in the shrubbery.  I had to see where the
gardener had a bonfire.  We looked at the apples on the trees.  We heard
someone mowing the lawn at the old Colonel's next door.  After lunch with
Maggy alone, as Mrs Marcham was working at the office, I bundled James into
his pushchair and with Francis walking beside we went to see Matt's mother.
She was over the moon too as Julia was getting married at last to Chris.
She didn't know about Matt, she said, he was much more interested in his
Naval career.  I didn't enlighten her that he was very unlikely to get
married.

     We did a round trip and called in at the Barnes' house.  Only Kanga
was there.  Sitting in the back garden, bare-chested and in a pair of old
shorts.  Oh, my God!  He was so like Roo had been!  He flung his arms round
me.  I knew he missed his beloved brother so much still.  He rushed indoors
and made tea and found glasses of squash and straws for the boys, plus
biscuits.  While he was in the house I picked up the books by his
deckchair.  Oh, 1984 and The Masters and, what was this?  The Seven Pillars
of Wisdom and in its original version.  I'd read it after a copy had been
handed round by a wank-happy boatie.  Dear lad.  Kanga would probably have
a wank himself after reading one or two of the descriptions!  We had
laughed in college over The Masters and one of the dons had told me it was
based on fact and that's the sort of in-fighting and intrigue one might
expect in an all-male academic environment.  And 1984?  Would our world be
like that in just those thirty or so years time?

     Francis had to be dissuaded from picking up the Seven Pillars and
showing me how well he could read.  Kanga came back grinning and said he
was thoroughly enjoying his English degree course in London.  Finals next
year, he said, ruefully!  However, he cheered up once we chatted about what
I was doing and his growing friendship with Roo's old girlfriend, Audrey
Bellingham.  He said they had really comforted each other over their great
loss.  I got the hint they were pretty close friends, she being five years
older, but he and she hadn't.......  Still there was time!  The boys
scurried about looking at Kanga's father's rabbits.  There was quite a
collection as he showed them at exhibitions and was a king-pin in the local
rabbit-fanciers club.  Kanga said they were real pedigree bunnies.  They
were all colours from silky white to jet black and I wondered if they would
make nice furry jockstraps!  I told Kanga I'd made quite interesting
discoveries in Paris, but I didn't go into detail unless his father lost
one of his prize coneys to make a commodious pouch for Kanga's not
inconsiderable package which was very evident as he sat open-legged in the
deckchair.  Remembering Roo, I had no doubt he matched him.  Remembering
Roo!  Oh.  My friend!  No longer here!

     Mrs Marcham just laughed when I apologised about the influx of
visitors to come later in the week.  She just enjoyed people.  I got the
feeling she was the one who cajoled buyers to have their ideal house.  She
said all she wished was that her son, her son-in-law and her grandchildren
were happy.  We were.  My sons were developing so fast.  Francis was eager
to show he could count as well.  Oh!  Could I ever look after them
properly.  Only if I worked hard.

                              *
     Each morning that week before Francis, then James, demanded attention,
I got up and wrote.  While Maggy looked after them to lunch time I carried
on.  My early drafts became reality.  I thought, all being well I should
have the back of the thesis broken by the time I returned to Paris.  I
still had reading to do, plus the final essays and the viva for my L es L.
I sent the corrected proof off to the editor and that was that.  I would
wait and see if there were any new skeletons up in Westmorland before
concluding the other article.  Afternoons I trundled the boys around.  We
saw Mrs Buchanan.  Chief Superintendent Buchanan was very busy she said,
laughing.  A Policeman's lot is not a happy one.  He was re-organising the
policing requirements for the whole county now.  Duncan was going great
guns at Edinburgh University and didn't think he would go back in the Army
and as for young Tom, he was now very busy installing signal systems
somewhere in Germany.

     On the Thursday afternoon, with Maggy in the back between the two
boys, I drove out to Josh's farm.  The boys were quite taken with the cows
and then we visited the stables which were just down the road from the
farm.  Bella was there with, oh my God!, Nobbo!  He was grinning from ear
to ear when he saw me.  The boys were taken off to be introduced to a ride
on a Shetland pony by Bella and Maggy.  Nobbo was head over heels in love
with Bella.  I could see why.  She was quite striking and great fun to be
with.  I raised my eyebrows.  He nodded.  Oh, Nobbo, not just tossing off
into little pots now, eh?  Another friend had lost his virginity a
different way!  He said he and Cleggy were doing very well.  Cleggy was
going out with one of the nurses at St Mary's.  She'd stopped him playing
rugger as she'd said she didn't want him damaged.  I called him Ganymede in
my mind!  Geoff had joined his father's practice but he and Cleggy wouldn't
mind staying on at the hospital when they qualified.  So, one more year
before they had their final two years of clinical work.

     Just before Friday lunchtime peace was shattered by the arrival of
Tony, Johann and Daniel.  The boys went wild.  Uncle Tony and two new
cousins!  I was despatched to get fish and chips all round.  First time
that British delicacy for the lads.  Rooms.
  Daniel and Tony to share!  Johann and me.  That weekend went so quickly.
The lads were fascinated with an English cathedral city, even a small one
like ours.  Tony made arrangements for us to take them to Ulvescott on
Monday for a couple of days.  Night-times went quickly, too.  Johann at
twenty was still as horny as ever.  We wanked and sucked each other to
oblivion each night.

                              *
     Francis took it quite in his stride, demanding to sit between naked
Daddy and equally naked cousin Johann in our bed each morning and chattered
away.  James came waddling in that first morning without a nappy now and
pyjama-trouserless.

     Francis was concerned.  "James is showing his winkle."

     James was hauled into bed too.  Johann needed to pee so slipped out of
bed and grabbed a dressing-gown before exiting for the loo.

     Francis took that in his stride, too.  "Johann has a winkle.  He's a
boy."

     Oh?  Does Francis know the difference?

     Johann received quite a stare when he came back, dropped the
dressing-gown and quickly got into bed again.  I would have to tell him
later he'd been inspected and found to have the same as the rest of us
boys.  I told Francis to take James off back to their room so Maggy could
wash them and dress them.  I didn't particularly want comments about
Daddy's 'winkle' and his relative hairiness compared with monkeys or
Johann.  I put Johann in the picture and he said that Francis was a very
observant little boy More comments came on Sunday morning.

     The pair had been in to us first but I had shooed them off and we
heard Francis, leading James by the hand, open the door of the room
opposite us.  They had gone into Tony and Daniel's room without knocking.
Uncle Tony was the recipient of all sorts of confidences.  He must have
been awake.

     "Is your winkle in bed with you?" asked Francis.  As Tony had been
informed the previous day of what Francis had said earlier I heard him
laugh.

     "No, that's not a winkle, that's Daniel!"  he said.  Daniel must have
still been asleep.

     Francis wasn't having that.

     "I want to know."

     There was an agonised shout from Daniel who must have been dug in the
ribs by Tony and roused from sleep rather suddenly.  The next thing Johann
and I heard was a thump as a body hit the floor.  Another agonised shout,
then a clear small voice.

     "Daniel is a boy.  And have you got your winkle there, Uncle Tony?"

     Johann and I clutched each other and his hand shot between my legs.
"Daddy is a boy!" he whispered in my ear as he gave my prick a squeeze.  As
he was expert at giving it a squeeze it responded immediately "Daddy is a
big boy!"  I turned on him and we tickled each other until we were both
giggling like three-year-olds.

     Poor Daniel.  He was now Winkle.  He didn't mind.  I heard Johann
whisper to him he'd got a big one and it was very nice.  So, the lads must
have inspected each other intimately and probably more while at the flat in
London.  I didn't blame them.  I'd inspected both in more ways than one.
As Johann had whispered all that in English I was doubly satisfied.

                              *
     Francis had to be distracted by Maggy on Monday morning as we four
left, driven by Tony, to go to Ulvescott.  I felt quite a pang leaving the
boys but we would be back on Wednesday evening.  It was hot so we were all
just dressed in shorts and light shirts and the journey didn't take long.
At the main gate there was Finbar.  We all got out of the car.  Finbar
surveyed us.  Tony and I went through the small side gate first.  He sat
and lifted a paw.  He had recognised us.  We both shook paws and then gave
him a hug.  Johann and Daniel were then introduced.  I whispered into
Finbar's ear, I don't why, that these were Piers' cousins.

     I opened the main gate and as Tony drove down to the Manor we three
lads walked with Finbar leading us.  Mrs Crossley was already waiting at
the front door.
  I introduced Johann and then Daniel and they were hugged and welcomed.
The boys couldn't have had a warmer welcome.  We were instructed to take
our things up to the two bedrooms.  Johann and Daniel were going to share
Piers' room.  I stood between them with my arms round their shoulders and
told them about the photos and about Piers and Miles.  I said I knew they
were more than good friends.  As both lads had shared themselves with me I
showed them the entries in that last diary and I said I had felt Piers'
presence, his friendly presence in this room and throughout the Manor.  I
hoped they would feel it, too.

     We took them, with Finbar, to the Churchyard and put red roses from
the now restored garden on the memorial stone.  We then went to see where
we had buried Bran.  That plot had been cleared properly and one of the
workers at the saw-mill had planted three small trees.

     We had a superb meal that evening and had about a half bottle of very
good wine each.  Daniel had been to the cellar with me and chose what he
considered to be an exceedingly good vintage.  He was amazed at the quality
of the bottles in just that one section of the whole cellar.  Both the lads
charmed Mrs Crossley and Miss Pike and they seemed so much at home.  So,
replete, we went to bed.  Tony and I to the Horsebox and Daniel and Johann
to Piers' room.

                              *
     Neither Tony nor I enquired of them what happened that night but both
had tremendous grins on their faces in the morning.  We were certain they
too had shared each other completely. They said they were so glad they'd
come to the Manor and they were so glad they were cousins of some sort.  We
drove through the village that morning to take them to see Lady Bing and
the Duchess.  They were fascinated with the village and both said they had
never seen thatched cottages before.  Lady Bing was getting frailer but
spoke to both in French and then said as they were in England they must
speak English.  The Duchess looked at me with that look of resignation.  I
was commanded to play.  I loved that piano.  I had told the blind organist
about it and he said that a Bosendorfer was the height of piano making.  I
played the Beethoven Sonata I had been learning ready to take the diploma
sometime.  That piano made me play my best.  Never as good as Tim would
have done but I made no errors.

     The second night we sat with the boys in their room and they both said
they now knew what good friends we all were.  We left them to strip and get
to bed.  Tony and I sat and talked until past midnight by the open window
in our room savouring the quietness of the country.  In bed we consolidated
our friendship once more.  Quietly, in the stillness of the night, Tony
received my love and token of my friendship so willingly and so completely.
Slowly, so slowly, I filled him with my shaft and slowly, so slowly we
moved in unison until my seed was planted deep within him.  As I
experienced that tremendous climax so he moaned softly and his own seed
spurted between us.  We lay, me transfixed and he glued to me with his own
outpourings until I softened.  We parted and were in the bathroom between
the two bedrooms cleaning ourselves when the other bedroom door opened and
two smiling lads came through.  Nobody spoke and they waited until we had
finished at the sink.  They handed us towels and as we took them I kissed
both on the cheek, followed by Tony.  We went to bed then and slept knowing
that two cousins had also contracted a lifelong friendship.  I whispered to
Tony as we settled that only a few months ago Johann and I didn't know we
had another strand to the family.  I sensed in some way Tony regretted he
wasn't on a strand but I said he must have been destined through that
marriage to be related and he couldn't be anything else but a member of the
wider family.

     The lads came through to us early in the morning and somehow four of
us huddled together in the bed.  We just lay and enjoyed each other's
presence, cherishing that close intimacy of four young males.  I valued
each of them.

                              *
     Back at Kerslake that evening they recounted how much they had enjoyed
that visit.  It was Cambridge next.  Tony said we could just have a day
visit on Friday.  We would show them King's, Clare and Trinity at least.
Both had heard of Isaac Newton and his statue in Trinity Chapel was
something to see.  I thought I'd better use the card before Lord Fordham
changed his mind so got Willy to telephone the Blue Boar.  I must say the
lads were most impressed, both with Willy and the fact I just waved the
card at Old Bert.  They were not too impressed with the level of cuisine.
Not quite up to Swiss or French standards.  But hungry lads eat anything
and steak pie is steak pie even though the steak was..., well, whatever.

     The usual jaw-dropping took place as they took in the fan-vaulting of
King's College Chapel ceiling.  They were awed in turn by the magnificence
of each college and its associated chapel.  John's, like a small cathedral
with its rows of stalls for the worshippers, then the dining hall
surrounded by the students' and Fellows' rooms, all leading through to the
river passing under the Bridge of Sighs.  In Trinity chapel they stood and
looked at Newton and I showed them how the sculptor had cleverly
incorporated Tennyson's pipe in the plinth of his statue as he wasn't
allowed to portray him holding it.

     I think both were envious of our good fortune to be students in such a
beautiful place.  I said many students went through their three years not
seeing their surroundings.  It was an extension of their school and had no
other meaning.  I said I had come to value the place and I wouldn't mind
staying.  Tony nudged me and said I probably would.

                              *
     Tony and I left the lads in Kerslake the next day as the trip to
Chester and on to Westmorland was upon us.  A long journey on a hot day!
Francis and James slept most of the way with Maggy keeping them entertained
in between.  Another great welcome.  Aunt Della was her usual cheerful,
witty self - any worries over Lachs' marriage seemed to have evaporated.
Julia took command of the boys and Grandma and Grandpa were overjoyed to
see us.  Rhys and Emrys and his girlfriend came to supper.  We had just at
down to eat when a motor-horn announced the arrival of Flea.  He was only
staying overnight as he had to get back as he was being posted to Korea
with a back-up flight.  This put a bit of a damper on the overall happiness
we'd been experiencing.

     After supper and the others had gone and Aunt Della went to bed Tony
and I sat with Flea and he said he was not happy as, although a treaty was
being negotiated, things could flare-up again.  He said he loved flying and
was considered to be a good trainer and he enjoyed that job.  We told him
about the lads, Daniel and Johann, and the visit to Ulvescott in
particular.  He leaned over and took my hand.  "If anything ever happens to
me, just remember Ulvescott and us."

                              *
     On Monday morning I drove this time as Tony and I set off for Garforth
Hall.  From Chester we had to drive all through Lancashire.  Tony was a
good navigator and after stopping in Lancaster for sustenance we arrived
just north of Kendal during a perfect summer's afternoon.  Garforth Hall
was a truly imposing building.  Dr Blake had said that although the family
had owned land in the area it was the wealth from the sugar plantations
which financed the building of the place and the first Lord Harford had got
his title in the time of George the Third, probably through lending the
king money!

     The driveway stretched for at least a mile before we drew up on a vast
gravelled expanse.  The architect must have had delusions of grandeur as
the place was a Gothic horror built with dark, forbidding looking stone.
The ancient Rolls was parked on the gravel as well and as we stopped
Michaeljohn the chauffeur came round the side of the house.  He was bluff,
blunt and to the point.

     "You'll find him round there," he said, pointing to the way he'd come.

     We thanked him and walked along the front of the edifice.  We heard
voices and laughter.  There was 'him' - Lord Harford talking and laughing
about something with Charley and Bruce.  As soon as he saw us he greeted us
effusively while Charley and Bruce stood back.  Then it was their turn.
While they were greeting us there was a shout from his Lordship.  "Travis!
Tea!"

     We were ushered inside and I was pleasantly surprised.  With the
external darkness and massiveness of the building I expected the sort of
furnishings in that dreadful house belonging to Johann's grandfather.  The
interior was painted in light shades and the furnishings were to match.
The huge room we entered was the afternoon salon according to Charley's
description.  It was big enough.  Comfortable chairs and settees were
everywhere.  In a chair by the fireplace sat a very smartly dressed woman.
We were introduced to Lady Harford.  She knew how to treat boys - she'd had
four of her own.  As Tony and I stood gawping at the room a youngish
black-suited butler wheeled in a trolley laden with cups, saucers, plates,
pots and jugs, sandwiches galore and various home-made looking cakes.
Travis was introduced.

     "Warn you, lads, don't try anything.  Ex-commando, eh,
Sergeant-Major?"  said his Lordship.  "Keeps that rascal of mine under
control and he's taming the other one."

     'The rascal' and 'the other one' stood and grinned.  Travis looked at
his boss with the look of someone who had heard it all before.  Lady
Harford poured tea and smiled.

     With Lady Harford pouring and Travis passing plates we got down to
business.  Lord Harford said we had the run of the Library.  He said his
father had had some old fool who'd made a start on the cataloguing but had
found the way to the cellars and ended up dead drunk and on the next train
back to Cambridge.  He looked at Tony.  "And Travis has the key to the
cellars."  Message received.  Try for the cellars and get your neck broken!

     They all listened, Travis included, while I outlined what I had found
in the Bib Nat in Paris.  Lady Harford said she wasn't surprised.  George
and Arthur were sent off to the family plantations to get them out of
England.  She said there was a letter somewhere written to George's father
after the fire by the plantation manager.  The slave who had died as well
and probably started the fire had been a favourite page-boy with two
others, but had been sent back to the fields after he'd been accused of
stealing.  The fire was thus an act of revenge.  Lord Harford took over,
looking directly at his wife.  This book?  He had better read some.

     Tea was finished.  Our bags and my brief-case were removed from the
car by another servant, a footman, obviously ex-military, too.  We were
placed in huge rooms, light and airy, on the first floor looking out over
the moors.  I retrieved the folder of my work.  Lord Harford, with Tony and
I, then went to the Library.  Another large room, lined with bookshelves
filled with dark red and gold bound books.  All looked as if nothing had
been disturbed for many years.  There were two large desks.  One had a
stack of old magazines and newspapers.  I peered at the top one.  It was a
yellowing copy of the Times for Tuesday June the twelfth, nineteen
twenty-eight!  On the other desk were six or seven index cards and a pile
of six books.  Was that the end result of the previous cataloguing?

     I gave Lord Harford the typed up copies of Part One in the original
French and in my translation.  As he sat and read through them Tony and I
started looking at books on the shelves.  Again, it looked as if nothing
had been touched for years.  From titles on the spines of the beautifully
bound books I could see there were lots of theological books, accounts of
travels, histories, geology, Greek and Latin books and so on.  Tony was
going to have to spend quite a time here as I estimated there must be
between three and four thousand books.  I assumed some were valuable as
well as I'd read that rare books were always turning up in old libraries.

     I opened a cupboard under one bookstack and there was a wooden box.
Someone had made some attempt at some time to put things in order.  I drew
out one folder.  It contained sheaves of accounts dated 1852.  The next had
letters from a firm of solicitors in London about a land transaction about
a railway.  These were dated in the early 1840's.  These must be a real
treasure-trove for historians.

     I was just putting those back in the box as Tony approached.  He had a
notebook in hand and was scanning each row of books.  He was dragging the
wheeled library steps along and making notes.

     "I'll have to go back to Cambridge to get some advice," he said, "I'll
need a proper cataloguing system.  Dewey or something like that.  I'll come
back with you to Chester first and then find out as much as I can before
starting here."  He looked at me and grinned.  "I'm going to enjoy this.
Might find a Shakespeare First Folio!"

     Lord Harford must have been listening.  "Too late, me grandfather sold
that to pay for the roof!  Might be other things, though."  He went back to
the descriptions of the lads as I could see he was fairly near the end.

     I had just finished looking in a second box which had letters just
placed higgledy- piggledy in folders and dating from the early 1700s to
some I found in the 1850s.  This would be my first searching place in the
morning.  Lord Harford had reached the end.

     "Good Lord, lad!" he said taking off the glasses he had perched on his
nose, "You certainly found something there.  Is it all the same?"

     I said I had finished Part Two and was about three-quarters of the way
through Part Three and, most certainly, it was the same and, even more so.
He whistled.

     "You seem to be handling it all right.  I trust you and Will Blake.
You know he was my tutor when I was up?"

     I said he'd never told me that though it did make things a bit
clearer.
  He laughed.

     "Will was a bit of a lad, too, when he was younger.  You must ask him
some day about how he managed to get the chamber-pot on the pinnacle at
John's when he was a student."

     There was a guffaw from Tony.  Chamber-pots and other items often
appeared in unlikely places - often on the highest points of college
buildings.

     "You can laugh, lad, no joke with the damn bulldogs trying to scramble
up behind you.  All too fat and old in my day.  Blasted Dean standing down
below shouting up and waking everyone.  That was Queen's.  Tied six lots of
ladies' unmentionables and the Dean's drawers up there that night!  And
then we had to get down and back to Clare as well!"

     He laughed.  I looked at Tony.  I didn't think there was much to worry
about with the translation and my thesis.

     "You'll put this in your work, will you?  Not let it get around, eh?"

     I said only Dr Blake and Tony knew about it so far.  He'd discussed it
with his sons but they didn't know the full content yet.  I supposed my
examiners would and anyone who was so curious to look at an obscure thesis.

     He laughed again.  "Give it a few years and you can do with it what
you like.  That's always been around.  The twenties it was rampant in
Town."

     I took this to mean in London.  Tony did not enlighten him it was
still rampant given his experience of Perce's cousin's dinners.  So the go
ahead.

     Dinner was at eight.  Good solid English food.  Charley and Bruce were
there with an aunt of Charley's, as well as his mother and father and
another fairly aged female who ate steadily and said little.  After dinner
we four lads were left sitting in the drawing-room, with Tony and Charley
smoking large cigars and Bruce and I just sampling the brandy.  The oldies
had gone off to play cards.  Charley broke the silence.

     "Are you going to let me read whatever it is?"

     "You're much too young and innocent," said Tony, flicking his ash into
an ashtray.

     "Bloody cheek," riposted Charley.  "I'll get Travis to try a few of
his strangle-holds on you, eh Bruce?"

     Bruce laughed.  "I'll get the bugger yet, too slippery for me,
though."

     It turned out there was a friendly rivalry between the boys and the
butler.  He'd been a commando trainer and was very adept at all sorts of
mean methods.  Bruce had tried brute force on one occasion he said and had
ended up 'arse over fuckin' tit' within seconds.  Bruce was still as big as
ever so the landing must have caused a minor earthquake!

     Anyway I said they could take the typescript to read in the privacy of
Charley's bedroom but I had to take it back with me the day after tomorrow.
And if they wanted any help with the hard words to ask Tony.

     Charley looked at me and said in a quiet voice, "Travis!"

                              *
     I slept like a log and was awakened by a tap on the door and Travis
appearing with a silver tray with a cup of tea on it.

     "Good morning, sir," he intoned.  "It's O seven hundred hours and a
fine morning.  Mr Charles presents his compliments and will be taking
breakfast downstairs shortly and says he hopes you will be ready to join
him."

     Oh, I could get used to butlers!  Travis was just an older version of
Jem, I supposed.  I took the proffered cup.

     "Would you convey my compliments to Mr Roberts when you next see him?"

     I looked at his impassive face.  Then a corner of his mouth twitched.

     "You mean Willy?" I asked, "How do you know him?"

     The veneer cracked.  He smiled.  "Willy was Colonel David's driver.
Actually he was Major David then."

     "At the gunnery range?" I asked.

     He nodded.  Things were clicking into place.  David was the eldest
son.
  Old student.  Family connections.

     "Colonel David's in Egypt at present," he said.

     I took the hint.  "So Jem and Sam?"

     "Exactly."

     We both smiled.

     "There's relations of other friends of yours here." he said, still
with the smile.

     I must have looked puzzled.

     "The dogs.  Her Ladyship won't let them in the Hall.  Apparently the
old General started it many years ago.  His Lordship and his brother were
in his regiment.  I understand you are related to him."

     Ramifications.  I said I assumed it was the mother of Finbar.  He said
it was and they had kept one of Bran's female pups as well.

     Travis went.  I roused myself, yawned and fingered my priapic pole.
No time.  Breakfast and Charley calls, definitely in that order.

     Breakfast was a sight.  An array of dishes, kept warm by small candles
under water baths.  Bacon, mushrooms, kidneys, scrambled egg, kedgeree.....
Enough to stuff a regiment, I thought.  I was just choosing when Charley
and Bruce appeared.  Change the assumption.  Bruce was a regiment!  Food
disappeared quickly and just as Tony and the aunt appeared Bruce said he
was off to check on something or other about the estate.  When he had gone,
Charley explained the pair of them were now running most of the day to day
business with the help of the land agent.  Bruce was doing most of the
outside work and loving it.  He was in charge now and not just a jackaroo.

     The aunt knew Miss Pike and Mrs Crossley well as she had been at
Gerald and Anne's wedding so many years ago.  Very sad how that turned out.
I nodded and my connection had to be aired again.  Lord Harford appeared
and had almost the same size breakfast as Bruce.  He'd already been out
riding so was in jodhpurs and riding coat.  There was a definite aroma of
horse.

     Charley said as we were going to be in the library all day we'd better
see the dogs first.  Two large female wolfhounds, mother and sister of
Finbar, greeted us effusively in their large enclosure.  I didn't ask him
if he had read all the transcript but he kept smiling to himself.  Charley
then went off followed by the pair, walking with scarcely a limp now.  We
went back inside where Travis took us to the library and showed us the
bell-push to summon him or the footman if we needed anything.

     Tony busied himself listing categories of books while I delved into
the box of letters.  At ten o'clock I hit pay-dirt, as the Americans always
seemed to say in films about prospectors.  I found two, then another one,
then two more.  All letters from my French author, in good English,
thanking them for their letters with one saying he was writing another
book, and, in another, that he had just finished the book.  From the
content it was probably the one he'd plagiarised.  Wow!  Two others were
very short, merely notes that books had been dispatched to them.  I was
just thumbing through more letters when I found the sixth.  It must have
arrived just before they went to Jamaica as it said that he had finished
writing the book 'they so earnestly requested but he was uncertain about
making it into English'.  This must be the 'secret' book!

     I showed Tony my find and he read through them with me.  He agreed.
At eleven o'clock the footman appeared with tea and said luncheon would be
served at twelve thirty and his Lordship would be back by then.  I went
through about another hundred letters or so but found no more.  I pushed
the box back into the cupboard and looked up at Tony making his notes.  I
wondered who had collected all these books?  Tony said the book plates
tended to be between 1760 and 1810 for the ones he had looked at and from
what he'd heard in lectures on the period, books were often bought in bulk,
bound and put up 'to furnish a room'.

     I was looking at one shelf.  Theological treatises from the look of
it.
  Tony had said from the family history he'd found - the one Dr Blake must
have read - that a couple of younger sons had become bishops so I assumed
they supplied those volumes.  I looked at the spine of one.  'Cathcart's
Sermons'.  The next was 'Essays on Amos'.  Then there was 'Bastable's
Commentary on Acts of the Apostles'.  Intrigued by the name, Bastable,
knowing Lachs' pal, I drew out the volume.  It was superbly bound in
gold-tooled red-brown leather.  Tony saw me and said I should open it
carefully as the binding might crack.  I did, first blowing a layer of dust
from the top, and opened it slowly about halfway through it.  I stared.  It
was in French.  I knew the book.  It was a copy of 'Therese Philosophique'!
I nearly dropped the book.

     "Tony," I said softly, "You wanted Shakespeare.  Look what I've got!"

     "Fu....ck me!" was his drawn out comment when he looked and turned a
few pages.

     We looked at each other.  I pointed at the row.

     I took out the copy of 'Cathcart's Sermons'.  It creaked a bit as I
opened it.  In French again.  L'Art de Foutre.  I knew that word!  The
general joke at school was the poor boy who muddled 'foudre' and 'foutre'
and whose sentence translated as 'During the night I was awoken by the
sound of fucking' rather than 'the sound of thunder'.  No doubt about this,
Cathcart's Sermons were quite explicit.  Mainly do as you would be done by!
A real 'coup de foutre!', I mean 'coup de foudre!', or did I?

     'Essays on Amos' turned out to be La Chandelle d'Arras, where, after I
had translated a bit of the content concerning randy nuns, Tony said the
more modern phrase 'All the nice girls love a candle' was obviously as old
as the hills.  We moved on.  'Bede's Aphorisms' contained the catchy titled
Histoire de Dom B..... Portier des Chartreux and opened at an illustration
of a grinning young man, with a not very large erect prick, lifting the
skirt of a swooning young lady, with another young man looking through a
hole in the wall and beating his much more substantial meat.

     There were ten books in that row.  None contained anything like the
text announced on the spine.  These must have been the books alluded to in
the two letters.
  None were of the same sort of content, that is, exclusively male, as the
'secret' book.  Perhaps George and Arthur were disappointed with this lot.
They had them bound and then they were forgotten with their deaths.
Younger sons who were bishops probably hadn't been sufficiently interested
in 'Garton's Thoughts on Hezekiah'.  Perusal of the contained Les Lauriers
Ecclesiastiques would have lifted any girls-only bishop's frock.  We
certainly had something to show his Lordship!

     We heard a bell ring.  Luncheon was served. We said we would say
nothing until we were asked how we were getting on.  The aunt and other
elderly lady were already seated and eating.  Lord Harford came in with
Charley.  Charley said Bruce was having lunch with one of the tenants.  I
hoped the tenant was doing a whole roast ox or likewise.  Anyway, I suppose
we had sufficiently composed faces as it wasn't until the cold cuts and a
fine bubble and squeak were served around, eaten, and the ladies had
departed, that Lord Harford turned to us and asked the crucial question.

     As I had made the discoveries I spoke up.  "I have found some more
letters," I said, "From France."  I paused as I thought Charley was going
to say something.  "They are in English and there are references to the
'secret' book as we are calling it.  But...."  Here I paused for effect.
"......there are two short notes asking if the books sent have been
received.  I think we've found those."

     Tony butted in.  "Jacko has found them," he said.  He turned to Lord
Harford.  "I think you said when you were talking about the family last
night that younger sons often went into the clergy.  Would they have used
the library?"

     His Lordship snorted.  "Doubt if any of them could read, let alone
open a book.  What about you, rascal, fancy the church?"

     Charley snorted too and kept silent.

     I stood up and went over to the small side table where I had placed
the copy of 'Bastable's Commentary...'.  I gave it to Lord Harford.  He
looked at the spine then opened it carefully and shut it again suddenly.

     He looked at me.  "Did I see what I thought I saw?" he said.  He
looked down and opened the book again and turned a few pages.  He must have
hit on another illustration.  He looked at me again.

     I looked at him and couldn't keep a straight face.  "In the row of
supposedly theological texts we've found ten volumes like that.  That one
is the book from which our friend has purloined the padding for the
'secret' book.  I just happened to pick it out as I know someone named
Bastable.  Quite fortuitous!"  I couldn't help it, I just laughed.

     We left the table and all went to the library.  The other nine books
were in place on the shelf.

     "Bless my soul!" said his Lordship after scanning the shelves and not
spotting where they were, even though there was a gap for
'Bastable'/'Therese'.

     Tony and I took down the books carefully, warning about covers and old
leather.  Charley's eyes popped as he had picked up the Story of Brother
Bugger the Gatekeeper.  Lord Harford merely opened each and shut them
again.  He turned to Tony.

     "What do you think?" he asked and pointed to the serried ranks.

     "I don't know," said Tony, "These are probably the only ones but I
won't know until I've catalogued the lot."

     Lord Harford turned to me.  "You found 'em.  You have 'em!"

     I protested, not because I didn't want them.  They must be valuable.
What about the family?

     "If none of the family has looked at them since they were put up there
then none of the family gets them."  He turned to Charley who hastily put
down the book with the page he'd been staring at for the last five minutes.
"Eh, rascal?  If you want to have a look at them make an appointment with
Jacko!"

     That was settled.  Not only had I found confirming letters, which I
would copy out and leave behind, I was now the possessor of an exclusive
library of eighteenth century high class pornography.  What would Dr Blake
say?  What would anybody say?  At least it was conveniently in French -
that is except for the illustrations!  Wow!!

     Lord Harford insisted Tony and I had done enough and they came to the
arrangement that Tony would be accommodated at Garforth Hall and would work
on the library in the mornings and could do his own writing in the
afternoons.  He would go back to Cambridge to take advice on cataloguing
first of all.  So, my books were carefully packed in two cardboard boxes
and Tony said he would also take advice on preservation and took two of the
other books with him as well.

     After lunch we went with Charley onto the moors to inspect one of the
walls.  It was a cloudless day and we three sat and sunbathed and talked.
Charley said he and Bruce got on very well and all the tenants liked Bruce
who worked very hard.  I asked Charley about the bit of the book he'd read.

     "Bit near the knuckle," he said, looking carefully at both of us.
"How d'you read that stuff without...." he paused.  ".....getting..., ...a
bit aroused?" He ended quickly.

     "One doesn't" and "You can't help it" were our simultaneous comments
and we laughed.  Charley reddened rather, then gave a little snigger.

     "I did!" he said, making a face, "Couldn't help it and bloody Bruce
kept whispering 'fuckin' hell' under his breath.  We shouldn't have read it
together.  I kept passing pages to him.  In the end he was very red-faced
and gave me the last page and rushed off to bed."  He looked at us with his
eyes downcast.  "I read it through again when he'd gone."

     "And?"  Asked Tony.

     He nodded.  "Had to!"

     We all three then laughed and changed the subject.  So dear old
Charley had had to have a wank!!  I know I did every time I read the copy
and Tony hasn't seen what comes up, literally many times, in Part Three
yet!  Oh God!  What about the examiners?

     I am afraid we teased Bruce as the four of us sat together after
supper.  Tony asked if he thought the author should have included a
jackaroo.  What would he have been doing?  Shearing sheep?  Sitting by a
billabong?  Waltzing his Matilda?  Pulling his pony?  Bruce took it all in
good part.  He said he was quite aware of what jackaroos did in the privacy
of their bunks and more openly in the outback.  He'd seen it all and some
of the bastards would give those lads a run for their money.  He said one
of them in particular had a real dong like a donkey but he got no more
pleasure out of it than the rest.  I poured him another large brandy and he
said he wanted to know about those other books and when was I going to
finish that one.  "Fuckin' hell" was repeated several times when the covers
and the disparate contents were explained.  He grinned when I said I would
let him and Charley read the rest.

                              *
     We left in the morning to return to Chester.  Francis was full of chat
about Big Grandpa.  Great-grandpa had been translated by him.  I did hint
to Aunt Della we had found some 'bodice-rippers' of a dubious sort.  She
said she wanted a first edition of anything published!  I didn't say they
were illustrated!

                              *
     When we arrived back at Kerslake the next afternoon there was no sign
of Johann and Daniel.  They came home with Mr and Mrs Marcham as they'd
spent their days going out 'selling houses' with a couple of the estate
agency staff.  They said it was good for them as they had to speak English
all the time and were convinced they had helped sell a couple of houses by
their charm.  I said it was more likely French smarminess and Swiss
cheesiness and when set on by the pair my son helped them!

     They'd also been out to a pub, actually three pubs, as Nobbo and
Cleggy had called round, found them at a loose end on Tuesday evening and
taken them into Kerslake to sample warm English beer.  In the pub were some
of the lads from the Kerslake Rugby Club celebrating someone's birthday and
as Johnny Prosser was there Nobbo and Cleggy were invited to join in with
their friends.  Daniel, my companion that night, said they had been asked
to leave one pub when the singing got too loud and he'd had three pints but
Johann had four and was helped home.

     In bed that night it was confession time.  "I learned a new poem," he
said, snuffling into my ear.  "We all had to do something so I said that
one you taught me and everyone laughed.  That big one, they called him
Prossy, said that was good and he wasn't surprised you had told me that
one.  Actually, he said you were a good mate and he bought us that beer in
the second one.  He said he would teach Johann and me all about Eskimo
Nell."  He giggled.  "Johann learned more than me.  I know,
          And now I'm off to the frozen North,
          To the land where spunk is spunk,
          Not a measly stream of lukewarm cream
          But a solid frozen chunk.!"

     I laughed softly.  "You know what it means?"

     He nodded against me.  "Yes, that Prossy knows all the poem.  He said
you would know it."

     "I've heard it," I said.  Prosser used to entertain, if that's the
right word, the Sixth Form Common Room with renditions of bits of it with
appropriate actions and gestures.  I whispered a few of the lines which
always stood out, literally, with Prosser pumping his arms too and fro.
          "Then he took a sight, as a gunman might,
            Along his monstrous tool,
            And stuffed in his lust with a mighty thrust,
            Hard, calculating and cool.

            Have your ever seen the pistons on a giant CPR?
            With the driving force of a thousand horse?
            Then you know what pistons are!

            Nell felt the flush amidships, like the flush of a water
closet,
            She gripped his cock, with a tremendous lock,
            Like the National Safe Deposit."

     I couldn't remember any more.  Daniel was heaving with laughter beside
me.

     "You are very rude," he said

     "And what about you, little boy.  Wait until I tell Maman you have
been drinking and reciting nasty poems in good English public houses!"

     "Bollocks!" he whispered and nudged my leg with his knee.

     "Where did you learn that?" I said, trying to stifle a laugh.

     "They all said that and it sounds better than 'des conneries, tout
ca!'  doesn't it?.  Bollocks," he repeated, "Good word is that, very...."
He paused looking for a word.  ".....very emphatic!"  My cousin was getting
very fluent!  He giggled again.  "I have to ask you. Your friend said what
was different about a magic wand....." he paused again, "....and, I think
he said a policeman's truncher."

     "No," I said, "It's a policeman's truncheon."  Good, he was still
learning.  "Why do you ask?"  I thought I knew.

     He nodded against me again.  "He said the magic wand was for cunning
stunts but he would not say anymore and everybody laughed.  Tell me,
please, why did everybody laugh?  What is a trunche....on?  Is it his
dick?"  He reached down and caught hold of my, now erect, shaft.

     I giggled.  "It could be.  But don't think that's all that English
boys think about.  They're not like little French boys who can't keep their
hands off......  Ouch!"  The little French boy gave my cock a tug.

     "I am not a little French boy!"  He grabbed my hand and placed it
firmly against his six and bit inch erection.  "What did he mean?"

     I stroked his nice-sized 'matraque'.  I caught hold of his head and
brought him closer to me. "If a policeman had one like that he would be
very proud," I whispered in his ear, "But no, it's the big stick they
carry.  It's their magic wand.  But think about it.  Change the first
letters around, the magic wand is using for cunning stunts, so the
truncheon is used for...?"

     "Sunning....."

     "No, try again."

     "I know," he said triumphantly after a few moments of trying out
combinations.  "Stunning cunts.....!"  He gasped.  "That's very rude!"

     "You're very rude knowing that word.  Who told you anyway?"

     "Those boys in the public house.  They kept saying 'Silly cunt' so I
asked your friend Nobby what they meant.  He told me."

     "What else did he tell you?"

     "He said he had a doctor joke and all the boys listened."

     "So what did he say?"

     "He said a lady took her doctor....."  He paused.  "No, the lady took
her daughter to the doctor because she was fat.  The doctor looked at her
belly and said she was pregnant."  He poked me in the side.  "You know that
word?"  Having had two sons I knew when Kats was pregnant!  I prodded him
and murmured 'Get on with it!'.  "The mother got very angry and said her
daughter couldn't be... ....having a baby.  She had never been out with a
boy.  She knew she hadn't.  No boy had touched her daughter...."  He
giggled.  "...I nearly said that word, you know, fucked her daughter, but
she wouldn't have said that because it is rude...'  I gave him another,
more vicious, prod.  He giggled again.  "I pull your leg.
  The mother was more and more angry and said her daughter would never let
any boy do that thing.  When she got more angry the doctor turned and
looked out of the window.  The lady shouted at him 'Why are you looking out
of that window?'.  He didn't turn round but he said last time this happened
Three Wise Men came visiting from the East and I am just looking to see
them come along again!"

     I had to laugh - both at Nobbo's silly joke but also that Daniel was
now so fluent he could tell jokes in English.  I turned and hugged him and
said his mother will be so proud now he could speak such good English but
he had to be careful what he said.  The toad just nipped my earlobe with
his teeth and whispered "fuck, bugger, arse, prick, cock..."  I shut him up
by gluing my lips over his.  Our tongues duelled for a few moments.  He
pulled his face from mine and giggled.  "You teach me well."  After that
what could we do but settle down and Jacko's 'baton magique' was expertly
manipulated as was Daniel's 'matraque'.

                              *
     As usual Francis came trundling in first thing in the morning.  He
crawled in between Daniel and me.  I was prodded in the chest.

     "Where is Johann?" he demanded.

     "With Uncle Tony," I said groggily.

     "Why isn't he in here?"

     "Because there isn't room."

     Next thing I knew two bleary-eyed nude creatures crawled in with
Francis pushing into the middle.

     "I told them to come in here." he announced.  "There is room."

     Four large lumps and a small lump were a very tight squeeze but
almost-three-year- olds are boss.

     "Why can't we have a cup of tea?" was his next question.

     I got out of bed shoving the other three.

     "You're bigger than Johann."

     Oh, God!  He'd been looking more carefully.

     "You take up more room in the bed."

     Thank goodness!  Not the difference I'd thought.

     I dragged on my dressing-gown and went downstairs and made a great pot
of tea and took it up.  Four lumps sat in a row drinking their tea with a
talkative small one in the middle.

     I managed to get him out to go back to his own bedroom.  We four sat
and giggled.

                              *
     With Tony off to Cambridge on Monday I had to entertain the lads.  We
borrowed a third bike and explored the countryside in the mornings.  They
liked lazing in the garden in the afternoons so I got down to work then.  I
took them to a couple of other pubs in the evenings and there we met
several of my old mates from school.  They were all making their way in the
world.  I remembered them as younger lads.  Now they were young men.

     Part Three of the 'secret' book was very explicit.  There was a lot
less of the padding as nine horny youngsters had to be described in a
multitude of different couplings, triplings and so on.  I had made a rough
draft of quite a bit of it but was now able to finish it.  I settled down
and tried to sort out some of the happenings.  Part Two had ended with
Allan being triumphantly carried off.  Part Three opened with a panegyric
to love and devotion which ended with all the boys ceremoniously bathing
their new partner in a marble bath 'filled with sweet-smelling water so
warm to swell those parts which that night would carry each to the perfect
ends of their desires.'  I read through the French again and it seemed to
be the same.  'All in good heart, they led their new companion now clothed
in silk doublet and hose with tunic in that green brocade that all their...
'souple' ...lithe young bodies made to glow with richness, to the table in
the great hall where.....'mets' ....'viands,...  'plein de jus'
....succulent as their young flesh.....'  I thought the French phrase
fitted them well.  But, I'll have to check those long sentences.

     After the feast they rested while the watchers, or narrators,
continued with their discussion until at a signal from Robin, now the
leader of the band, the boys rose as one and off they went to their bed.
'Allan saw but one bed.  A circle full nine cubits across, covered with
pillows of finest weave, soft..'  Here I noted the use of 'oreillers' for
'pillows' and 'oreilles' '...as the ears of those young coneys'.  Pity I
couldn't match it.  'Their clothes placed in the sandalwood chests the
young....'  personnes I checked '....wights fell upon the bed and with soft
cries of content began their nightly joys.  All were in pairs but for
Castor and Pollux who lying close to the lustrous golden-haired young
knight did play their fingers upon the pipe hanging from his neck and that
second pipe so lengthy and rare.  With sinuous tongue young Castor laved
his lips and cheeks as Pollux guided his tongue toward that prize
which....'  deferle '....unfurled between his lips to yield that sweet
honey as oft before.'

     Each of the other pairs 'writhed and sported together and their chosen
partners moved as one so..'  sans peine '....so easefully caressing with
gentle tongues and open mouths those once soft and flaccid worms now...'
hampe '....lance-like shafts.'  Our blacksmith, John, takes within his lips
young Robin's '...uprising serpent's head and presses down to uncap the
jewel...'  He goes on at length (ha ha) about sucking '...until with...'
une sursaut '...a gasp of surprise his open mouth spills out that gift too
great for him to hold.'.

     After 'drinking from golden goblets a sweet draught to give them
further strength' partners are changed and the twins move on to the
fisher-boy, young Neptune, who is assailed from top and bottom....'
demisisti gladius in jugulum, which I assumed was '...taking a sword into
his throat while lusty Pollux spears him....' per patente porta - my guess!
'...in his arse.  The twins, facing and smiling as they work, take hold
with hand on hand young Neptune's....'  jalon '.....pole until he....'
asperge '...sprays...'  de semence benite '....sprays them with his holy
seed.  For every pair '....pedicabo ego vos et irrumabo...'  I took this to
be in two ways but would have to check.  As every one now ends their second
bout so Milord and Monsieur divest themselves of their....' vetements
'...raiment and descend to the bed and choosing lusty Will and....'
bienseant '...comely James ride their willing steeds and all lend tongues
and hands to spur them on.  For that first time the twins lay and lick and
suck the pendant....' couilles '...balls hanging low until with cries of
joy their masters fill the waiting voids.  Twice more they choose before
the candles dim and darkness falls and all sleep quiet and tenderly when at
the dawn, once more roused, another pair of willing youths receive their
first blessings of the day.' ....  'Milord then spies a sad-faced lad, our
golden youth, yet unchosen by the pair.' ....  'He calls him forth and with
tender touch he takes young Allan's slim young pipe within his full red
lips and sups of that youth's morning dew which when received he shares
with Monsieur whose lips touch his.  He caresses Allan's tresses and smiles
upon his now joyful countenance. So in this way he shows....'  'maxima
debetur puero reverentia.'

     I noted that the cycle proceeded over five days until all had
experienced the attentions of each and every one in more than one way.  The
twins always seemed to work together and initiated Allan into sucking off
one twin while the other fucked him and in turn is sucked off by his
brother.  Each morning was spent in exercise where the lads wrestle,
practise archery or play ball.  The elderly male retainers watch also at a
respectful distance and that was where the 'pene languido senis' was
described, lengthy but unable to rise at the sight of the lusty youths.
Madame Hairy-Twat keeps all in order admonishing the boys to bathe and
clean themselves.  Milord and Monsieur have three partners each night and
another in the morning and then the odd one provides them with their
morning draught.  On the sixth day was the time when both Milord and
Monsieur have a contest and Milord wins, being able to service five of the
lads to Monsieur's four.  The lads then form the 'guirlande', the garland,
or daisy-chain, here not daisies but the more spectacular lilies.  I caught
the allusion to the 'Fleur de Lys' so would make a footnote on that.  The
seventh day was a day of rest but at nightfall, after supper, the cycle
began again.

     Then on the ninth day a dispute arose.  The farmer's lad, young Mars,
and James, the wood-boy, started to quarrel over their score at the archery
butts, '...and fell to blows, although to that time greatest of friends.
Their shouts drew their comrades and Will and John took them by the
shoulders and pulled them apart.'  There was then a bit of padding about
the fieriness of the young and how in the seven ages of man the fourth age
was that of the soldier and these were at the third age, that of first
love.

     Milord had heard the commotion and '...they with foul oaths....'
Pathice cinaede, stulte and so on, which would have to wait until I saw Dr
Blake!  '....accused each other of making false their tally and would have
caused upset to all.  He commanded they be stripped and that the brawny
youth, their other friend, good John, should teach them upon their buttocks
to make friends again.  Eight strokes he gave them each with a thick hazel
switch, raising eight bloody welts and eight cries of pain.  Young Mars
having stood his punishment wept as he saw his erstwhile friend leap and
cry out as each stroke descended.  As blacksmith John laid down the
reddened rod young Mars clasped his once friend, pleading for forgiveness
which the other cried as well.  John, too, put arms of iron around them
both, sorry to bring them pain and called for healing unguents to anoint
their agony.  With tender touch young Will and Robin spread the sweet oils
and kissed their shoulders while Castor and Pollux bathed their faces of
their tears and Allan passed them cooling draughts of soothing cordial.  So
all the friends were one again and vowed that where a dispute could occur
to cry to friends to calm the strife.'

     After that the diatribe was on making and keeping friends and was
interspersed with a few more graphic descriptions of variations on the
themes already portrayed.
  In the final pages Milord and Monsieur discuss the origins of love
'...which determines all the actions of our lives.  There is self-love
which gives us pleasure but it is this love which contributes to that love
for another.....'  I found this to be gloss on a similar passage in
'Therese'.  Then there was more about the Seven Ages and that having loved
in youth the way is open to love in life thereafter.  '....The spirit freed
moves on and is replaced by new young spirits whose love needs to
blossom......'  And, as I had shown Tony, the book ended with the 'freed
spirits' of Castor and Pollux leaving one life behind with the means of
beginning a new life and being replaced by younger spirits.

                              *
     On Friday Mr and Mrs Marcham went up, with Maggy and my boys, to stay
with Ma and Pa in London as Mr M was a king-pin or Grand Panjandrum in the
Masons and was taking Ma and Pa to some big Masonic beanfeast.  I was left,
nominally, in charge of Daniel and Johann.  That lunchtime I had finished
typing up the French manuscript completely, with a few gaps as I was not
sure if I had copied some words exactly.  As they sat in the garden that
afternoon I asked Daniel and Johann if they would like to read it.  I
explained about finding it and how it was connected to Garforth Hall where
Tony was now.  I told them about 'Therese Philosiphique' and said if I
showed them the books and the manuscript they were to keep it all secret
until after I had presented my thesis.  They looked a bit puzzled but as
they opened the copies of 'Therese' - carefully I warned them - they
scanned the illustrations first and looked at each other and me and
giggled.  I said they had to be serious.
  It was obvious the books were written and illustrated for young and older
men's enjoyment.  I thought, once you've read some and had a look at the
'secret' book your hands would be on your pricks within seconds!

     Johann was first to read parts of the 'secret book'.  He was jiggling
up and down in his deckchair as he passed pages to an equally aroused
Daniel.  We were all clad in shorts as we all wore them all the time in the
summer weather.  Daniel kept glancing at me as he squirmed to adjust his
hardon.

     "Jacko," he said at last, "This was in the library?"

     I said it was.  I had copied the manuscript deposited there.  All I
had done as well was to translate it into English.  They could read that as
well.

     He shook his head.  "Some of the words I do not know.  It is old
French, but I can guess.  Those boys!  Would it be true?"

     I said I doubted it but I guessed if the book had got to Jamaica and
George and Arthur hadn't been killed in the fire, then they would probably
have set something like it up with their black slaves.  In fact, from the
hints, I guessed the slave who had set the place alight had been one of
their 'boys'.

     I didn't enlighten them that I had nine more volumes which would have
interested them as well.  But, I was interested to see that once they had
flicked through the illustrations in 'Therese' they concentrated on my
transcription of the 'secret' book.

     I had promised them that supper that evening would be fish and chips,
the one item of British cuisine they were really enthusiastic about.  So
while they were sitting rereading the manuscript I cycled off and queued
for three pieces of fish and three lots of double chips.  The toads had
discussed something about the book while I was out getting their
supper. That night I had both creep in with me.  They insisted they were
the twins, Castor and Pollux, and I was the sweet young coney-catcher even
if I was an aged one with more fur than a real rabbit.  They had learned
well from the book.  We didn't emerge from the warren until midday on
Saturday.

     My pipe played a merry tune three times before we slept.  In the early
morning I found I could just about accommodate both their pricks in my
mouth at once.  I then fucked both as a sign that their elder cousin was
still capable.  It was bloody hot as we lay entwined, sweaty and full of
each other's spunk.  The bath wasn't big enough for three, so separately we
were rubbed down by the others until, clean and sweet, we lay and got
sweaty again in the sun after lunch.  I took them into Kerslake in the
evening and found the one restaurant willing to find a table for three very
happy lads.

     That night they both fucked me and I sprayed each of their torsos when
they had driven their spunk as deep inside me as the could.  I watched as
Daniel, then Johann, was speared by the other, until content and satiated
both with food and our love for each other we slept.

                              *
       On Sunday Mrs Buchanan had invited us for lunch and Duncan was
there.
  No longer moustached, nor wearing a kilt!  He was reading History at
Edinburgh and had just got back from a reading holiday on the Isle of Skye
as he would be starting his final year at the end of September.  He said he
had decided not to re-enlist but was a member of the Territorial Army with
the rank now of Captain.  He enthused about Scotland and said the lads and
I should visit.

     Visiting was on everyone's mind when the Marchams returned on Monday
afternoon.  My mother had been corresponding not only with her sister,
Johann's mother, but had contacted the two daughters of her aunt in
Strasbourg.  She had learned sometime before that the old lady had died at
the beginning of the war and her cousins, who lived in Obernal and Barr
outside Strasbourg, had a daughter each but both had married Canadians as
soon as the war had ended and had emigrated to Canada.  These girls were
older than me and Ma had only met them when they were very small.  Also,
Johann's mother was still keeping in touch with Hans' family near Stromberg
in the Hunsruck region.  Ma and Johann's mother had the plan.  Why didn't
we three boys go to see Hans, then to Strasbourg, on to Neuchatel, deposit
Johann there in the bosom of his family and then Daniel and I could return
to Paris ready for him to start his University course and me to work like
stink to complete my thesis and L es L.  Voila!

     Ma had provided a full itinerary.  Pa had enquired about trains.  Easy
her letter said.  We were students and qualified for student travel.
London to Dover, Dover to Calais by boat, Calais to Brussels in Belgium
where we would catch a train to Cologne in Germany.  From Cologne to
Koblenz and on to Bingen where it was only a stone's-throw to Stromberg.
When the visit there was over a train direct to Strasbourg.  Strasbourg to
Neuchatel was straightforward, via Basel.  I knew the way back to Paris.
All done and dusted!

     My query was about my sons.  If I went earlier than intended it would
be fifteen weeks before I saw them again.  I was reassured they wouldn't
forget me and this was a great opportunity.  But it would be costly, I said
to myself!  I shook my head in disbelief when I read that Johann's
grandfather would finance it all.  He had certainly mellowed and Johann
could hardly believe it.  Johann's mother had written to say the old boy
was so intrigued with all the coincidences he wanted to meet Daniel as
well.  So arrangements were set in train.  In train!  By train!

     First we had to celebrate Johann's twentieth birthday and then
Daniel's eighteenth sandwiched between James' second and Francis' third.
It was decided to have a combined birthday party on the eighth of September
which Francis was pleased about as it was his proper birthday.  Ma and Pa
came and stayed the night and Tony made a fleeting visit as we three lads
were going back to London with my parents as we were off on our adventure
on the Tuesday.

     We gazed at the piles of luggage.  I tried to keep mine to the minimum
but I had two suitcases and a haversack.  We scrounged an extra suitcase
for each of the others and there was much under the breath swearing as they
attempted to get all their belongings into small spaces.  Luckily neither
had anything bulky to carry but, even so, we looked like a camel train.

     The lads were both excited and sad.  They had met so many new friends
and Mr and Mrs Marcham couldn't have been kinder.  They were both
determined to visit again and were assured of a great welcome.  So, after a
quick look at a bit more of London on the Monday we three set out on
Tuesday September the eleventh on our journey.

[Author's note:     Each of the books mentioned exist.    Here is the list
of all ten.
   Histoire de Dom B.... (1741) J-C Gervaise de Latouche {A copy is in the
Princeton Rare
Books Library.}
   La Canape Couleur de Feu  (1741)       C-L Fougeret de Monbron
   L'Art de Foutre   (1741)       Francois de Baculard d'Arnaud
   Histoire Galante de la Touriere des Carmelites (1743)   A-G Meusnier de
Querlon
   Les Lauriers Ecclesiastiques (1748)    C J Rochette de la Morliere
   Les Bijoux Indiscrets (1748)   Denis Diderot
   Therese Philosophe (1748)   ?Marquis d'Argens {Eradice and Dirrag are
anagrams of two
participants in a real-life scandal around 1731.  Catherine Cardiere and her
confessor, Father
J-B Girard.  See also end of Ch 49.}
   Ecole des Filles (The French translation of  'Fanny Hill' 1748-9)
J Cleland
   Margot La Ravandeuse (1750)   C-L Fougeret de Monbron
   La Chandelle d'Arras (1765)    H-J du Laurens.
There are reprints in the series from the Bib Nat as mentioned in the
previous footnote.
As noted before, the manuscript of O Audaciam Immanem is extremely rare.  As
far as is
known only one person has studied it, J P F Thomson.]

To be continued:....................