Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 155 Shock Bomb

The three of them sat down, their eyes fixed on him.

Lionel slowly began to speak: "Father, you have worked in the town government your whole life, always cautious and careful, always watching people's expressions."

Would you like to... truly be a 'master' for once?

He saw his father's eyes blink.

Lionel's voice was seductive: "With me, plus control over this money, you can become the one who truly holds sway in Montiel."

The mayor? He'll fawn over you. The priest? He'll respect you more than anyone else. We can build the best house in town, the kind with a garden and stables.

The house's stone walls are taller than a person; they are impressive and secure.

From now on, everyone who sees you will respectfully call you 'Master Joseph' or 'Mr. Sorel'.

For a moment, Joseph's eyes glazed over, as if he saw himself dressed in a respectable suit, revered by others.

Lionel then looked at his mother: "Mother, do you want to become a real 'wife' or 'madam'?"
Wearing the finest silk dresses and gold rings on her fingers, she no longer had to work.

We can hire maids to clean the rooms and cooks to prepare meals—you can simply enjoy afternoon tea and tend to the garden.

At home, all you need to do is give orders. You'll be the most envied woman in Montiel.

The mother subconsciously touched her rough dress, a hint of longing in her eyes.

Finally, Lionel looked at Ivana, who had been keeping her head down: "Sister... I know that liar hurt you deeply."

But with money and status, everything will be different; you can get married in style and grandeur.

You can have your eye on either Monttier or Larané—a doctor, a lawyer, or a wealthy farmer—any of them will do.

Not only do they not need to provide a dowry, but they will also feel honored to be associated with the Sorel family.

Ivana looked up, a glint of light flashing in her eyes.

The air seemed to freeze until the kerosene lamp wick crackled.

Joseph Sorel was the first to slowly shake his head: "Leonard, thank you for wanting me to... 'be in the limelight'."

But, 'Master'? Forget it. I'm old, my bones are stiff, I'm used to bending over, if I suddenly straighten up, I won't be able to walk properly.

I can't handle that... power and pomp. Those people flatter you today, but they can be cursing you behind your back tomorrow.

I'm about to retire, and all I want is to enjoy my retirement in peace and quiet.

The mother then spoke, her tone gentle: "Lionel, my good child. Mom knows you are capable and thoughtful."

But... being waited on? That's so uncomfortable! I've been busy my whole life, doing laundry, cooking, cleaning the yard, I'm used to it.

"If I were left idle and did absolutely nothing, my old bones would probably fall apart."

Ivana gently bit her lip: "Leon, thank you... but the man who comes to marry me because of your money and your reputation..."

He wasn't looking at me, Ivana Sorel, but at you, Lionel Sorel, and those twenty thousand francs.

What's the point of such a marriage? There will be no respect, and certainly no love.

The huge weight on Lionel's heart was finally lifted, and a great sense of relief washed over him.

After being swindled out of 5000 francs, this family seems to have matured a lot.

He let out a long sigh of relief and smiled easily: "Good, very good. Father, Mother, Sister, I'm really glad you think this way."

At this point, Joseph, the father, asked with some concern, "What are you going to do with the 2 francs?"

As you can see, many people in Montiel need help... Are you going to share the money with them?

Lionel hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Are you familiar with old Pierre's situation? The roof of his house..."

Joseph was taken aback: "The roof...it did collapse under the weight of snow last year, and we helped him fix it."

There's still one corner left to fix, but it's their second son's room. He said the second son only comes back once a year, so they're saving some money for now..."

"And what about Mrs. Madeline? What about her youngest son's illness?"

“That child has been coughing for almost a year; we can hear it whenever we pass by her house.”

"Jules, Jules owes Old Dupont of the mill 200 francs?"

"Old DuPont is a bit ruthless... but I'll have to ask if it's 200 francs."

"Old DuPont said his mill needed 1000 francs to replace the axle."

"Ha, 1000 francs? He's gone mad! Go to Gapu and hire the best carpenter, use the best beechwood, and you'll get at most 400 francs!"

……

The two exchanged a few more words, then Joseph fell silent.

Lionel sighed: "Give it to them, and they'll get as much as they want?"

Joseph shook his head firmly: "Of course not... Some people don't need that much money at all, or even any money at all."

Lionel then asked, "If that's the case, then who will do the work of 'estimating' and 'issuing'? Can you do it?"

Joseph hurriedly waved his hands in alarm: "Then the entire Monttier will be our family's enemy!"

Lionel continued, "What if we let the mayor or the priest do it? No one should dare to hold a grudge against them."

Joseph smiled awkwardly and remained silent; after all, he was still the town government clerk. Lionel didn't press the matter but instead offered a different solution: "Let's split it equally, Dad. How about that? Each family will get about 200 francs."

Joseph thought for a long time, then shook his head: "That won't work either. Some people don't need that much; for others, 200 francs isn't enough..."

This way of dividing it won't satisfy most people... In the end, they'll still blame our family.

Lionel nodded: "So this 20,000 francs is really a hot potato... unless... more people see it..."

"Rest assured, I will handle this money in the best possible way, in a way that is fair to both our friends in Paris and to Montiel."

……

That night, Lionel wrote furiously in his room until late into the night.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The next morning, led by Mayor Bertan and Father Peltier, a large group of Montiel villagers set off for La Lagné.

Lionel watched the crowd depart, then quietly led his horse out from the backyard, took a shortcut, and galloped towards Laranée.

He had to get rid of the money as quickly as possible while everyone's attention was drawn to the protesters.

The Laranje post office was indeed much quieter today; even the postmen had been reassigned to the city hall to maintain order.

Lionel easily found Chief Nicola Bodin.

Lionel said directly, "There's no need to prepare the 20,000 francs in cash for me."

Director Bodan was taken aback: "Ah? Mr. Sorel, what is this...?"

Lionel produced a pre-written address and letter: "I want to make a remittance. This money will be sent to Gap, the Rothschild family bank."

Gap is the capital of the Hauts-Alpes department, quite a distance from La Rangh, where 20,000 francs is not considered a "huge sum".

Director Bodan was taken aback, but seeing the prominent surname on the remittance address, he dared not ask any further questions and quickly complied.

The cumbersome remittance procedures were completed as quickly as possible, thanks to Lionel's urging and the director's cooperation.

At the same time, Lionel handed a letter he had written the night before to the post office, requesting that it be sent to the Rothschild estate in Naples as quickly as possible.

With all this taken care of, Lionel felt much more relaxed.

He carefully put away the remittance receipts and letter receipts, then took out a few letters and handed them to Director Bodan: "Send them all to Paris as quickly as possible."

Then he quietly returned to Montiel.

In the afternoon, the crowd that had gone to Larange to protest returned, their emotions mixed.

They received some verbal promises and reassurances, with Mayor Martino stating that he "respects the donor's wishes and Mr. Sorel's decision."

Of course, he did not explicitly state that he was relinquishing his "guidance" over the use of funds.

The protesters felt a sense of relief, but also a bit lost, unsure of what would happen next.

It was in this atmosphere that Lionel took action.

He asked his father, Joseph, to invite Mayor Bertang, Father Peltier, and Mr. Renoir from the St. Joseph's School.

Then, they walked together to the small square in the town, where villagers who were concerned about the matter quickly gathered.

Lionel stood on a slightly higher rock, his gaze sweeping over the faces below, filled with confusion, anxiety, and anticipation.

Mayor Bertang and Father Peltier stood beside him, their faces showing inquiry and barely perceptible tension, wondering what Lionel was about to announce.

Old Mr. Reno, leaning on his cane, also looked bewildered.

Lionel's voice was clear and calm: "Folks, I have made a decision regarding the 20,000 francs."

The square fell silent instantly; everyone held their breath.

“I have entrusted this money to the Rothschild family bank in Gapper for professional management.”

His words caused a stir among the townspeople, most of whom looked confused, as this was beyond their comprehension.

The mayor and the priest looked extremely grim.

Lionel ignored him, his voice remaining calm: “It will not be divided up; 200 francs per household will not solve the long-term problem.”

It won't be used immediately to repair bridges, roads, or build houses, as that could breed new injustices and corruption.

Someone below couldn't help but shout out their question: "Then...what will it be used for?"

Lionel took a deep breath and raised his voice: "This money will be set up as a scholarship, a one-time bonus!"

The crowd was stunned. A scholarship? The word was completely foreign to most of the townspeople.

Lionel patiently explained: "The rules are simple—"

From this day forward, any child from Monttier who completes primary school at the Saint-Joseph School and subsequently becomes the first to gain admission to any of the four universities in Paris based on their high school exam results, rather than a letter of recommendation—

Sorbonne, École Normale Supérieure, École Polytechnique, or Paris Medical School—

"You can take away 2 francs in one go!"

The news exploded like a bomb in the crowd!

(End of this chapter)