BLACK SCREEN

Sound of waves crashing on a rocky beach, particular emphasis on sound of receding rush of gravel and water as waves recede.

FADE IN

Straight on shot of waves rolling towards a rocky beach, a powerful storm-driven sea under a sunny sky.

CUT TO

Side shot of waves crashing on beach and/or close up of gravel on beach being swept away by the undertow.

Rhythmic sound of a chisel on stone slowly fades in to be heard over the sound of the waves.

OVERLAY

Hammer and chisel appear in upper half of frame, as waves continue to fall on beach. Only the artisan’s hands are shown. The words “As in life, so in a game of hazard, skill will make something of the worst of throws” are being chiseled into the stone in script lettering. As the last word is finished, the camera slowly pulls back to show the name and epitath, “SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF DAVID BLOCK, Aged 15, who was killed by a shot fired from the _Elector_ Schooner, 21 June 1757”.

FADE TO

EXT. CHURCH YARD – TWILIGHT

JOHN TRENCHARD, a boy of sixteen or so years, sits on top of a rectangular marble tomb in the church yard. His clothes are shabby and are too small for him. He is barefoot. He is reclining against the trunk of a tree that grows near one end of the tomb. He has a small spyglass. He is looking through it towards and to the right of the camera. Behind him, in the right of the frame, a bay is visible through the trees that border the edge of the church yard, but he is clearly looking away from it.

CUT TO

EXT. MANOR HOUSE – TWILIGHT

We are looking through John’s spyglass which is centered on a window high in the gable facing the church. GRACE MASKEW, a girl of sixteen, is setting a lit candle in the window. She is wearing a dress with lace and other expensive details. The candle illuminates her hair, framing her face. She looks down into the flame. Then she raises her eyes to look directly at the camera and slowly smiles.

EXT. CHURCH YARD – TWILIGHT

John turns quickly away and points the spyglass towards the bay. As he does, a hand reaches out and pulls the glass away from his face.

MASTER RATSEY (O.S)

Ahoy, John Trenchard! What ye be lookin’ for with that glass.

MASTER RATSEY steps in front of John, placing himself between the boy and the view of the bay, below.

JOHN TRENCHARD

Smugglers, Master Ratsey, sir.

MASTER RATSEY

Ye best be careful, haunting the church yard after dark, lad. Ye’s like to meet Blackbeard, diggin’ for his treasure. Aside from that, I believe ye was looking the wrong way.

John blushes a little and glances over his shoulder at the candlelit window up the hill in the distance.

MASTER RATSEY (CONT’D)

Not to worry, lad. Your secret’s safe with me. But if ye has naught else to do, ye could come and help me put the finishing touches on David Block’s gravestone. I sorely need someone to hold the lantern close to for me. 'Tis but a half-hour's job to get all finished.

John closes down his spyglass and stuffs it in his pants pocket. He slides down off the tomb and gathers up his boots from the ground on the landward side. Ratsey puts his arm around John and leads him off towards the church and the street beyond. A moment after Ratsey and John leave the frame to the left, a figure enters from the right side, close to the camera position so that his head and shoulders fill the frame. The figure turns his head as he enters the frame, showing us his profile. ELZEVIR BLOCK, a broad-shouldered man of middle age with severe features, watches in the direction of the retreating figures, and then pulls a spyglass from his vest pocket. The camera moves left as Elzevir turns away. Over his shoulder, in the bay, the Bonaventure, a sailing ship of the type known as a lugger, is slowly drifting along, most of her sails already reefed. On the ship, a red lantern is waved back and forth twice. Elzevir holds up an object with a cloth cover over it. He pulls back the cloth to reveal a lantern with a red lens. He holds this up and waves it twice and then covers it. He looks back in the direction that John and Ratsey just left and scowls.