Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 215 The Informer! (Seeking monthly votes)

Albert de Rohan carried the stack of hot, still-wet manuscript papers in his arms as if he were carrying a packet of dynamite with a lit fuse.

He watched as Lionel, Maupassant, Huysmann, and others turned the corner and disappeared into the distance, chatting and laughing.

A gust of cold wind swept over him, but it could not cool the burning sense of panic in his heart.

His hand instinctively tightened around the manuscript, Lionel's words—calm to the point of madness—echoing in his ears.

"Explosion extinguishing method"? And there's the unrestrained laughter of Maupassant, Huysmann, and the scratching sound of pens cutting through paper.

This was all far beyond his imagination.

He had assumed that Lionel would seek help from his father or even Minister Ferry;

Or at least some more dignified way to retaliate, instead of this near-self-destructive nonsense!

Reason and worry gradually regained their advantage in Albert's mind.

Each of these manuscripts was more absurd and malicious than the one in Le Gaul, and seemed more like a frantic smear campaign against Lionel himself...

And of course, his father, Count Rohan, will also be implicated.

What would public opinion be like if it were actually released? Albert dared not imagine the consequences.

Albert muttered to himself, "For my father, for the Roon family... I must let him know."

He finally found a reason to convince himself, turned around abruptly, jumped into his carriage, and told the driver, "Let's go home."

……

The Earl of Rohan's study was filled with the smell of cigars and old books, but his suppressed anger was so heavy that it was hard to breathe.

The count stood before the fireplace, his brow furrowed, staring at the leaping flames, a newly delivered newspaper clutched in his hand, filled with skepticism and even insults directed at him.

Albert, almost holding his breath, stammered out everything he had just heard in Maupassant's apartment, including the horrifying "explosion fire extinguishing method."

His voice grew softer and softer as he spoke, and in the end, he almost trembled as he presented the stack of manuscripts to his father.

Albert's voice was barely audible, and he dared not look up at his father's face: "He...he said that only in this way can...only in this way can the fire be put out..."

Count Louis-Philippe de Rohan silently took the stack of manuscripts and began to read them one by one.

His face went from initial shock to disbelief, and finally solidified into a deep, almost emotionless ashen blue.

The only sounds in the study were the crackling of the fireplace wood and the soft rustling of papers turning.

Time seemed to stretch on forever. Albert was so nervous his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

Finally, Count Rohan put down the last sheet of paper.

He looked up at his son, his eyes showing neither sudden realization nor approval.

Suddenly, the count slammed his hand on the table, making a loud "bang".

The count's voice boomed like thunder: "Nonsense! Utter madness!"

You actually brought back this...this filthy stuff? Show it to me?

Albert de Rohan, have you lost your mind?!

Albert was stunned, his face turning deathly pale: "Father... I... I just felt you should know about Lionel's plan..."

This is too dangerous; it could implicate others…

The count interrupted him, his tone icy: "Danger? Implicate? The best thing you can do right now is to take this garbage and drop it into the mailbox!"

I've never seen anything like these before! Do you understand?

Albert couldn't understand where his father's rage came from.

He had expected his father to praise his "loyalty" and "caution".

“But Father… if these things are actually published, public opinion will completely spiral out of control, and your reputation will be ruined…”

"My reputation doesn't need you to protect it through such a foolish act of informing!"

Do as I say right now! Now! Get out!

Albert was completely terrified. He frantically grabbed the stack of manuscript papers and almost staggered out of the study.

The heavy oak door closed behind him, shutting out his father's suffocating rage.

He stood in the corridor, his heart pounding, his mind a complete mess.

Why was Father so angry? Was Lionel's plan really that absurd? But if so, why did he order me to deliver it immediately?
He looked down at the stack of manuscripts in his arms, feeling utterly lost and overwhelmed.

Finally, Albert gritted his teeth and strode quickly toward the mansion gate—

Since Father doesn't care anymore, then let these manuscripts go to those damned newspapers!

Inside the study, upon hearing his son's departing footsteps, Count Rohan's anger vanished instantly, replaced by an extremely complex expression.

He slowly sat back in his armchair, remained silent for a moment, and then opened a drawer in his desk.

Inside lay a draft of a statement he had already written.

In this statement, he carefully distanced himself from Lionel Sorel, emphasizing the independence and impartiality of the editorial committee and implying that Lionel was too young to receive any "extraordinary" treatment.

This is a typical bureaucratic document issued under pressure to seek stability and self-preservation.

He picked up the statement, lit it in the firelight of the fireplace, and watched as the paper curled up, turned black, and turned to ashes.

Then, he pulled out a fresh sheet of white paper, picked up a quill pen, dipped it in ink, and began to write a completely new statement.

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, Albert, sporting dark circles under his eyes, finally made up his mind.

He had to go to Lionel, confess everything, and bear the consequences—even if Lionel angrily broke off relations with him, he deserved it.

His sense of aristocratic honor wouldn't allow him to hide away with this guilt!

Around noon, also at the "Cupid's Café," Albert looked at Lionel in front of him, took a deep breath, and was about to apologize.

Lionel spoke first: "What did Count Rohan say after seeing those manuscripts?"

Albert: "Huh...?"

Lionel ignored the dumbfounded Albert: "He must be furious, right? And he's accusing you of being ridiculous and me of being a madman."

He then ordered you to submit the manuscripts immediately as planned, insisting that he had never seen them.

Albert: "How could you..."

Lionel shrugged: "Albert, my dear friend, why do you think I specifically called you to St. Dominic Street?"
And why were these manuscripts ultimately handed to you for submission?

Albert nearly knocked over his coffee cup in his panic: "This...this was all part of your plan?"

Lionel smiled knowingly: "Otherwise, how could these manuscripts have appeared before Count Rohan in such a 'reasonable' way?"

Albert's mind went blank; he was completely stunned.

He stammered, "You...you did this on purpose? You knew I would tell my father?"

Lionel's smile remained unchanged: "Uncertain, but the probability is high. You are the son of the Roon family, and in your heart, the honor of the family and the status of your father naturally outweigh the personal friendship between us."

Albert's ears turned red instantly. He stood up abruptly, his lips trembling as he tried to defend himself, but in the end, he couldn't utter a single word.

Lionel quickly gestured for him to sit down: "Don't panic! I'm not angry—it's only natural, and it's your responsibility."

If you don't even think about reminding your father, then I'll have to question whether you're mature enough.

A person who doesn't understand their own fundamental interests or how to prioritize interpersonal relationships will always make mistakes at crucial moments.

He paused, looking at Albert's shocked, blank expression: "I know why the initial rumors started, and I understand the predicament Count Rohan faces."

Since I initially chose to attend Count Rohan's ball out of 'greed' for fame, I won't act without considering his situation.

Albert still didn't understand: "Then what about my father's reaction..."

Lionel patted him on the shoulder: "Because this is the most appropriate course of action for Count Rohan, given his status and political acumen."

Anger is a subconscious protective shield; ordering you to deliver as usual and disclaim responsibility indicates that he understands and acquiesces to my plan.

Albert was completely speechless, staring blankly at Lionel as if he were seeing the man before him for the first time.

Albert felt his worldview had been greatly shaken: "Why...why not talk to my father directly?"

Why go through all this trouble by going in circles with me?

Lionel laughed and said, "Why don't you go ask Count Rohan?"

Albert shuddered, as if he could see his father standing right in front of him, about to reprimand him for his foolishness.

(End of this chapter)