Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 154: Complaints

Lionel's returning horse made a "clattering" sound, like a pebble thrown into boiling water, instantly attracting everyone's attention.

"He's here! Lionel is back!" someone shouted.

The crowd swarmed around Lionel and his horse like a startled swarm of bees, instantly surrounding them.

Countless hands reached out to him, countless mouths opened and closed simultaneously, and all sorts of sounds mingled together, assaulting his eardrums.

Old Pierre, the neighbor, squeezed to the front, his tone both affectionate and urgent: "Lionel! The good boy of the Sorel family!"

I watched you grow up! I even held you in my arms when you were little!
The roof of my house... a corner collapsed under the weight of snow last winter, and we haven't had the money to repair it...

Autumn is almost here again... all I need is... all I need is one hundred francs to buy some timber and roof tiles!

The widow Madeline almost knelt down, sobbing uncontrollably: "Young Master Sorel... please have mercy on me!"

My youngest son... he's been sick for a long time, coughing badly.

The doctor said I need to go to Dr. Gapu to see a doctor and buy a very expensive medicine... I really... I really have no other choice!
Please, I beg you, fifty francs, no, thirty francs will do! I'll be your slave…

Jules, his childhood playmate, squeezed next to his stirrups, a fawning and humble smile on his face: "Leon, it's me, Jules! Do you remember when we used to go fishing in the creek?"

Sigh, these days are tough... I owe the miller a lot of money, and with the interest compounding, I'm almost unable to pay it back...

He said if I didn't return it, he would take away my poor vineyard...

That's my whole family's only hope for survival! Help me, just two hundred francs, and I can get through this!

Before he could finish speaking, the plump miller Dupont interrupted: "Don't listen to Jules' nonsense, my interest rates are the lowest—"

Master Sorel, my old waterwheel bearings are completely ruined!
Replacing the bearings and drive shaft will cost at least a thousand francs!
Every day the mill is closed, I lose money; the whole town will have trouble grinding wheat!

Think about it, this is a matter of the entire town's food supply! Could you please do me a favor and help me out?"

“Young Master Sorel…” A young woman in a cloth dress squeezed through the crowd.

Her cheeks flushed crimson, and her voice was barely a whisper: "I...I want to go to Grenoble to take a sewing training course..."

For just a few days, fifty francs will be enough for tuition and travel expenses.

"Once I learn it, I can open a small tailor shop in town to supplement my family's income... Please, I will pay you back as soon as possible!"

But her voice was quickly drowned out by the others—

My plow is broken!

"My family still owes a huge amount in taxes..."

"Let's gather some dowry for my daughter, otherwise she'll have no choice but to become a maid in the city..."

"Please have mercy..."

The outcry grew louder and louder. Everyone had their own reasons, all seemingly valid and urgent: a sick family member, a failing business, a small dream, the necessities of survival...

Lionel, sitting on his horse, felt like a piece of bait thrown into a school of hungry fish.

Just then, Mayor Beltang exercised his authority.

He straightened his chest, trying to project an air of authority: "Quiet! Quiet down! What kind of behavior is this!"
What kind of behavior is this, crowding around here! Lionel has just returned, he's exhausted from his journey, let him catch his breath!

Father Peltier stepped forward at the opportune moment, made the sign of the cross, and said in a solemn voice: "My children, the Lord teaches us to be patient and to persevere."

Such a noisy scramble is hardly befitting the simple and honest character of Monttier! Clear the way, clear the way, let Lionel go in first.”

With the mayor and priest's half-persuasion and half-drive, the crowd was temporarily dispersed, creating a gap, but they did not go far, still surrounding the fence, their eyes fixed intently on Lionel.

Lionel took the opportunity to dismount and, "escorted" by the mayor and the priest, quickly walked into his house.

The mother and Ivana immediately closed the door, temporarily shutting out the countless gazes.

But the atmosphere inside the room did not ease.

Mayor Beltang wiped the sweat from his brow and immediately adopted a worried expression: "Lional, you see, this is the current situation!"

The villagers are suffering! This money... must be carefully planned and used where it is most urgently needed!
Repairing roads, patching school roofs, reducing taxes for some of the most needy families...

I'm the mayor, I know the situation best! I can guarantee that every penny will be spent wisely!

Father Peltier nodded slightly, his tone becoming even more soothing: "Lional, my child."

Wealth comes from God and should be used to serve God and nourish the soul and body of believers.

Such a sum of money, if used to repair the church—our sanctuary has indeed not been repaired for many years;
Or establish a charitable fund managed in the name of the church to help the most devout and needy members of our community… This would surely further highlight God's glory and ensure that this act of kindness receives eternal blessing.

Lionel sneered inwardly, but his face showed an expression of frankness and helplessness.

In front of his parents, sister, mayor, and priest, he opened his briefcase and turned it toward all of them.

Aside from a few pages of manuscript paper, a quill pen, a portable ink bottle, and a coin purse, there was nothing else.

Lionel spread his hands: "That's twenty thousand francs, a huge sum! How could I possibly bring it back with me?"

Everyone was stunned.

Mayor Beltang asked anxiously, "Then...where's the money?"

Lionel sighed. "I'm still at the Laranje post office. I just got there and ran into Mayor Martino..."

Oh, and there's also Mr. Sharvy, the manager of the 'Laranie Valley Savings Mutual Bank'.

Upon hearing these two names, Mayor Bertang and Father Peltier's expressions immediately darkened.

Lionel carefully chose his words: "Mayor Martino was very...enthusiastic. He said that although the money was donated to the 'Montier region'..."

However, Montiel is under the jurisdiction of the city of Larange, so it needs to be considered from a holistic perspective…

Mayor Beltang's breathing became heavy: "He's trying to interfere with our Monttier's money!"

Lionel added, "The bank manager, Charvey, suggested that it was unsafe to keep the money at the post office and that it should be deposited in their bank."

They can offer generous interest rates and help with investments to make your money grow.

Father Peltier curled his lip: "Banks? Interest? Investments? Hmph, how high-sounding!"

They simply want to turn God's blessings into capital for their exploitation and profiteering!

Lionel looked exasperated: "You see, this is what's giving me a headache."

This money was clearly designated by our 'friends in Paris' for our Montiel, but now…”

Before he finished speaking, Mayor Bertan and Father Peltier were enraged, and their anger was directed at the "outsiders" in Laranée.

They rushed out of the house, embellished Lionel's account, and told it to the townspeople of Montiel who were gathered at the door.

Anger instantly replaced pleading.

"What? Lalane is trying to steal our money?"

“That was donated to Montiel by the Parisian gentleman!”

"That bastard Martino! I knew he was up to no good!"

"And those bloodsucking bankers!"

"We can't let them succeed!"

"Never agree!"

"Let's go settle the score with them!"

"We're going to Laranje tomorrow! We'll go and reason with the mayor!"

"Yes! Let's go together! Let them know that we Montiel people are not to be trifled with!"

The mayor seized the opportunity to fan the flames: "Great! Tomorrow morning, we'll go to the Laranje City Hall together!"

Father Peltier nodded solemnly: "The Lord will protect the righteous side!"

The crowd gradually dispersed, and the Sorel family finally regained some peace.

Dinner was eaten in unusual silence, the flickering light of the kerosene lamp illuminating the complex expressions on the family members' faces.

After dinner, the mother and Ivana cleared away the dishes, and Lionel called to the father who was about to go for a smoke.

His expression became extremely serious: "Father, Mother, Sister, we need to talk."

About those 20,000 francs, about... our family's future.

All three of them immediately turned their gaze to Lionel.

(End of this chapter)