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..."I'm your man."  You extend a hand across the table, into which the agent shoves a black oilskin pouch.

"Yer orders," he says.  "Don't open 'em until yer treadin' th' Fortune's decks and full 'ware of the bearin' for th' Isla Retorcida." 

"And how will I get to the Fortune?"

"That's yer affair," says the agent, reclining as far as is safe on his stool.   "Run along now - ye'll find yer way out through th' other arm o' th' passage.   There's a bag waitin' there for ye with a bit in th' way of provisions inside."

"But —"

"Run along, Mr. Tredegar."  He laughs silently as he starts stuffing a pipe with tobacco.  "And don't think t' dawdle.  There's many eyes lookin' in yer direction."

You leave the agent to his pipe and make your way through the passage.  As you grope your way along the darkening walls, you begin to plan your next move...

Try to escape back to Europe.

Uh oh. No one's written this branch yet. :o

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