Naboleone stepped up to the door and rapped sharply on the gleaming varnish. The door opened and the boy was confronted by a tall, severe-looking man in a dark suit and stockings.

‘Yes?’

‘I am Naboleone Buona Parte,’ Naboleone said in his best French. ‘This is my brother Giuseppe.’

The man frowned at the grating accent. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Naboleone repeated his introduction and the man seemed to understand a bit better on the second attempt. He turned back into the staff room.‘Monsieur Chardon? I think these must be the two boys you were expecting. From Corsica?’

‘Yes,’ Naboleone nodded. ‘From Corsica.’

The man stood aside and a moment later a stocky man in a cassock was smiling down at them.‘Welcome to Autun. My name is Abbot Chardon.’ He glanced from boy to boy and nodded at the smaller, darker-featured one. ‘You must be, let me think . . . yes, I have it, Napoleone.’

‘Naboleone, sir.’

‘Yes, well, since your father was so adamant that the first priority was to get you speaking French like a Frenchman, we might as well start now, with the French version of your names. Giuseppe will be Joseph, and you, young man, have caused me a bit of a problem.’ He smiled kindly.‘The best approximation I can do is Napoleon.’

‘Napoleon?’The boy repeated. He was not sure he cared for a French version of his name, but the first teacher had evidently struggled with the Corsican name and so, inevitably, would everyone else at the school. He already felt like enough of an outsider. He looked up at the abbot and shrugged. ‘As you wish, sir. I shall be Napoleon.’

‘Good! Then that’s settled. Let me take you to your dormitory.’

He led them towards a staircase at the rear of the hall and they climbed three flights to reach a corridor that stretched out under the eaves on both sides. Napoleon saw that it was lined with beds with a chest at the foot of each.

‘There’s no one about at the moment,’ the abbot explained. ‘The rest of the boys will be in lessons until supper.You will have a chance to meet them then. Since the first task is to improve your French we’ve decided to put you at opposite ends of the dormitory, beside a proper French boy, so you can correct your accent, which is still a bit thick, if I may say so.’

Napoleon coloured the moment he heard this, but his brother took his hand and when Napoleon glanced sidelong at him Joseph shook his head in warning.

The abbot wafted a hand. ‘As soon as your trunks arrive please unpack then, and then return to the staff room. I’ll take you to your teachers and introduce you to your classmates.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Joseph replied. ‘Thank you, sir.’

The abbot smiled quickly, turned away and strode back down the corridor.

When they were alone again Joseph turned to his younger brother. ‘Well, what do you think?’

‘Seems comfortable enough.’

‘I wasn’t talking about that. Napoleon - well? Makes you sound like a real Frenchman.’

‘Yes, I know,’ he replied unhappily. ‘Napoleon . . . and Joseph. What would Mother say if she could hear me now?’