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Giuseppe?’
    While his older brother pedantically went through every detail of his timetable, Naboleone’s thoughts went back to the men he had seen that afternoon. Many of the people living in Ajaccio had come to see them as simply brigands, or deluded idealistic nuisances at best.Yet they were Corsicans - they spoke the same language as Naboleone. The French still felt like foreigners, and that he had been born a French subject felt strange to Naboleone. So what was he? Corsican or French? Whenever he considered the question the answer was always the same. He was a Corsican.
    ‘How about you?’
    Naboleone realised his father was speaking to him and looked up quickly. ‘It’s going well, Father. In fact I have some good news for you. We’ve been reading about the Romans, and the Carthaginians, and I’ve really improved. In fact the abbot said that soon I could join the main class for the whole day.’
    ‘Really?’ Carlos beamed.‘That is excellent! And in such a short space of time as well. I think we’ll make a fine scholar of you yet, young man!’ He reached over and ruffled his son’s head as Naboleone tried to look pleased at the prospect of being a scholar. He already knew that he wanted to do something with his life, not spend his years studying the things that other men had done.
    ‘Well, now it’s my turn to be the bearer of good news,’ Carlos smiled. His family turned to him expectantly, but Carlos nodded at the empty plate he had pushed to one side. ‘That was a really good stew, my dear. Is there any more?’
    Letizia lifted the heavy iron ladle from the cooking pot.‘There is. But I’ll brain you with this if you don’t stop playing games and tell us the news.’
    He laughed. ‘Very well. The Royal Court in Paris has confirmed the governor’s certificate of my title of nobility. Marbeuf told me today.’
    ‘At last,’ Letizia muttered. ‘That’s over then.’
    ‘Better still, I’ve learned that we are now eligible to apply for an endowment to French schools for the boys.’
    Letizia stared at him and Naboleone looked confused. ‘What does that mean, Father?’
    ‘It means that in a few years’ time you and Giuseppe may be attending one of the best schools in France.You’ll be getting the finest education available. Of course, you’ll have to be fluent in French before you go, but there’s plenty of time for that.’
    ‘Go to school in France?’ Giuseppe muttered. ‘Mother, will you and Father be coming with us?’
    She shook her head, and turned to her husband. ‘I see. First they take our land. Now they’ve come for our children. They’ll take them off and turn them into proper little Frenchmen.’
    Carlos shook his head. ‘It’s not like that, my dear. It’s an opportunity, a chance for them to better themselves. A chance they’ll never have if they stay here. I hoped you’d be pleased.’
    ‘I’m sure you did. I’ll have to think about this.’
    Carlos glanced away from her and said quietly,‘I’ve already sent the petition to Paris. Marbeuf countersigned it the moment my eligibility was confirmed.’
    ‘I see.’ Letizia shook her head. ‘ Merci .’

Chapter 8
    ‘I always knew he had it in him!’ Letizia smiled in delight as she brandished the school report in front of her husband’s eyes when he returned from the courthouse. Carlos took the report and read it through while his family sat round the table expectantly. The two years at Abbot Rocco’s school appeared to have paid off.Two years and two more children, Carlos reflected. In addition to Giuseppe and Naboleone there were now three more mouths to feed: Lucien, Elisa and young Louis, who had yet to master the correct application of cutlery and was busy trying to stick the handle of a spoon up his nose.
    Abbot Rocco was extremely complimentary about Naboleone’s progress. The boy had excelled in maths and history but as ever, his performance in arts subjects and languages was lagging well behind.