Another journey into the realm of the strange and terrifying.

I hope you will enjoy the trip that it will thrill you a little and chill you a little.

So settle back.

Get a good grip on your nerves.

Where are we going?

You'll find out when we get there.

And now, another tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.

In a moment, Moonlight Sail by William N. Robson.

The ancient Romans called the Mediterranean Maraynostrum, R.C.

For the past several years, I've made it my sea, up to a point.

At least there isn't a port between Gibraltar and the Suez Canal I haven't been in and out of,

without the knowledge of the harbour master. I was once a gob in the U.S. Navy, and the crafty skipper was once a

PT boat in the U.S. Navy. Now, we can both be had for a price. If the price is right, that's Marius,

my first mate and crew.

I signed him on one night in a dive in Marseille after I'd come between him and a crazy Moroccan and wanted to give him a facelift with the broken end of a wine bottle.

Marius may have a rather carefree code of ethics, but I know I can count on his loyalty, so long as I pay him regularly.

There are the bells up on the Souquet, the old section of Canada. The sun is dipping

toward the mountains of the Esterelle, and another day is drawing to a close on the glamorous

and extensive French Riviera,

where the pickings have then precariously leaned for the cruiser mockingbird and its men.

More rooms, here.

Ah, but who knows?

...