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    Freitag, 10. November 2006
    10. November 1556

    Although the fishing boats searched, for their own venal reasons, for quite a fair length of time, no man that night or any other laid hands on Richard Chancellor, Grand Pilot of the Muscovy Fleet, or his beloved son, Christopher.
    Long before than, they had moved out of the bay, at first tangled kindly together, and later alone, out of sight of each other, but with the same broad and harmonious current bearing them east.
    Over the lightening sea lay the path Chancellor had discovered, and the door he had opened, expending on it a sovereign order of courage in an element exacting of courage, for he sailed from home, and not towards it.
    "We commit a little money to the hazard of fortune; he commits his life. Wherefore," Sidney had said, "you are to favour and love the man departing thus from us."
    The way he had found opened for him, and his long-studied seas with dignity gave him his bier. And in the morning he was accorded the crown of dead men, to see the sun before they are buried, and he set out with shoes on his feet as do the Muscovites, for he had a long way to go.

    (Dorothy Dunnett - The Ringed Castle)

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