Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 371 An Unexpected Night! (Bonus Chapter 3 in October)

Another sleepless night.

Maupassant and Albert, with dark circles under their eyes, stood in the living room yawning.

Albert complained, "I was just getting sleepy when those little rascals' lights woke me up."

Maupassant also expressed his weariness, saying that he had never hated a song so much, especially when someone sang it off-key outside his window for most of the night.

Lionel also came to the living room. He had gotten used to the noisy environment. Although his sleep quality was average, he managed to get a full night's sleep.

Maupassant asked, "Has it been like this for the past few days?"

Lionel nodded: "They need some action to boost their morale. If they don't make this month tough, it will be tough for me and for them too."

After a simple breakfast, Lionel took Sophie and the others out again.

This time, the group did not spend the whole day wandering around outside. Instead, after lunch, they went directly to Émile Zola's Villa Médan.

The "Youth Guard" also surrounded the villa, staring intently at its gate.

Inside the villa, Zola said urgently to Lionel, "Why don't you just stay here and not go back?"

You can go on the day of the court hearing...

Lionel looked out the window at the menacing young people and shook his head: "I can't bring trouble to you."

Wherever I appear, once they find out, they'll stick to me like glue.

Zola knew he was telling the truth, but out of a sense of duty as a friend, he continued to persuade him: "But it's too dangerous for you to continue living in Vernev."

Their goal is to torment you mentally, break your will, and make you lose your temper before the trial, so that you won't perform well in court.

They'll do anything to achieve this—if one method doesn't work, they'll try another, until you go crazy.

Lionel nodded: "I know, so, Emil, I'd like to entrust Alice and the others to you for a while and let them stay here."

These military cadets are after me. As long as I remain in their sights, they won't bother Alice, Sophie, and Patty.

Émile Zola quickly agreed: "The ladies can stay here as long as they wish. But you... have you seen what Guy brought you?"
We've discussed it and we want to leave that place; we can try this method.

Lionel replied, "We'll give it a try..."

It wasn't until evening that Lionel emerged from the gates of the Meitang Villa, but this time he was alone.

The "Youth Guard" members who were following him suddenly tensed up and kept glancing behind Lionel.

Lionel walked past them expressionlessly, as if passing by several clay sculptures.

One of the young men couldn't help but stop Lionel: "Where are the others?"

Lionel gave a cold glance: "They've stayed at Mr. Zola's place as guests—what, are you going to surround this place too?"

The young man was speechless at the question and could only awkwardly say, "Of course not... Our only target is you, Sorel."

He then added, his tone fierce but his voice betraying his fear: "You'd better not try anything funny, Sorel, we're watching you!"

Lionel ignored them, boarded the carriage, left Médan, and headed straight for Vernev.

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As the day passed, the noise outside the villa did not subside with the approaching darkness; instead, like the turbid currents of the Seine, it surged even more fiercely in the darkness.

The young men of the "French Republican Youth Guard" lit more torches and windproof lamps, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows on their excited faces.

But tonight they didn't sing; instead, they kept whispering to each other and exchanging glances.

The veterans from the veterans' home did not leave; they stood like sculptures weathered by war, occasionally letting out a few coughs.

Their tents were right next to the edge of the military academy camp, forming a kind of barrier.

The circus, which seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, had its colorful canvas billowing slightly in the night wind, and faint growls of wild beasts could be heard coming from within.

They didn't hang colorful flags, light gas lamps, or make any noise to attract onlookers; it was as if they were just taking a normal rest.

Lionel stood behind the curtains in the second-floor study, calmly observing everything.

Sophie, Alice, and Petit have been entrusted to the care of the Zolas.

He hadn't originally intended to rush things, but a note hastily handed to him by a waiter during their lunch changed his plans.

He was familiar with the handwriting on the note, and he believed he could completely trust its contents when it came to his personal safety.

That's why he hurriedly sent Sophie and the others to Meitang.

Now, only he, Maupassant, and Albert remain in the villa.

After nightfall, Lionel went out of the villa and spoke with the veterans, trying to persuade them to leave as well, but the veterans insisted on "protecting" him.

Lionel could only send them some more food.

He also noticed that the reporters from various newspapers who were usually scattered around the area seemed to have disappeared tonight.

I don't know if it's because the incident happened several days ago and there's been no news about it, or for some other reason.

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Back in their room, Albert and Maupassant were both restless, seemingly sensing the change in atmosphere.

Albert tugged at his collar in frustration: "Damn it, are these little brats really planning to make a move tonight?"

He had just shaved off his beard, which he had meticulously groomed for almost a year, leaving his chin sleek and making him look several years younger, while also revealing his playboy demeanor.

Maupassant stroked his beard and remarked, "I never imagined they would actually dare to do such a thing."
Violence against a writer, attempts to kidnap him, and even harm him... this is no longer the France I know!

Lionel turned around and looked at his two friends.

On the living room table were three similar dark cloaks, their large hoods enough to cover most of their faces.

Two of them were brought over by Maupassant, and the other was used by Lionel himself when riding a horse.

Donning cloaks and taking advantage of the darkness, no one could tell who the real Lionel was.

Lionel's voice was low: "Are you sure you want to do this? Your safety..."

Albert patted his chest: "Don't worry, Leon, I've had plenty of practice driving carriages in Algeria!"
They're looking for Lionel Sorel, what does that have to do with me, Albert de Rohan?

Maupassant then checked the pistol tucked into his waistband: "Don't worry, they'll give up the chase once they see it's not you, and besides, I have this!"

Time ticked by in anxious waiting. The noise outside the villa rose and fell like the tides.

Finally, the sky outside the window turned completely dark blue, and only the blurry outlines of lights remained of the distant city of Paris. The hands of the clock just pointed to ten o'clock at night.

Maupassant took a deep breath: "It's getting dark. We have to leave now! If we're too late, they'll make the first move!"

Albert nodded: "There are two carriages in the stables in the backyard now. We'll split up and head out in two different directions."

They will definitely split up and chase after us, and then there will be an opening here at the villa..."

Maupassant chimed in: "We'll meet at Médan, and we'll get Emile's villa by tomorrow morning at the latest."

In short, whether you choose exile or court appearance, you can no longer afford to be surrounded by these fanatics.

Lionel had just opened his mouth, about to say something, when suddenly—

A loud crash came from the front yard, followed by the screeching sound of breaking wood and a chorus of exclamations, curses, and shouts!
Maupassant turned around in surprise and doubt: "What's going on? What are they trying to do?"

Albert reacted swiftly: "They've made their move! They're going to kidnap us! They're going to kill us! We'd better get out of here!"

Lionel's heart tightened; he also believed that the Youth Guard had been unable to restrain themselves and had launched an attack.

Plans can't keep up with changes! Without time to think, Maupassant shouted, "Go according to plan, split up!" Albert and Maupassant put on their cloaks, rushed out of the drawing room, and headed for their respective carriages.

However, the chaos in the front yard spread to the backyard at an alarming rate.

A huge, luxurious golden four-wheeled carriage crashed through the wooden fence connecting the front and back yards, sending splinters flying everywhere as it rushed in!

The four black horses pulling the cart were foaming at the mouth, their hooves pounding wildly on the stone pavement, making a series of crisp sounds.

Several members of the "Youth Guard" and police officers who tried to stop them were easily pushed aside, and the scene completely spiraled out of control.

“Lional Sorel?!” A woman’s voice, as loud as muffled thunder, boomed from the driver’s seat of the golden carriage.

A burly maid jumped down from the coachman's seat, her eyes flashing like lightning as she instantly locked onto a black figure fleeing in panic.

The figure in the shadows was taken aback by the force of the noise and instinctively replied, "I am!"

Upon hearing this, the maid strode forward and easily tucked the dark figure under her arm as if it were a bag of flour.

"Hey! Let me go! What are you doing..." The dark figure's exclamation was drowned out by the noise.

The maid ignored him and shoved him into the small room-like compartment of the golden carriage. Then she jumped onto the driver's seat and gave the reins a sharp jerk.

"drive!"

The golden carriage turned around, crushing the broken wood on the ground, and with a speed disproportionate to its size, it once again broke through the chaotic crowd and sped toward the main road.

"Sorel has escaped!"

"Chase after that golden carriage!"

Someone in the youth guard shouted.

Several light carriages were immediately driven off in haste, closely following the golden carriage's retreating figure, the sounds of hooves and wheels quickly fading into the distance.

But the chaos in the backyard had not subsided.

Just as the golden carriage drew some attention, a completely black four-wheeled carriage appeared silently like a ghost by the other side of the courtyard wall.

The car door suddenly opened, and two tall, muscular men dressed in servant uniforms jumped out.

Their gazes fell upon another black figure fleeing in panic.

“Mr. Sorel?” one of the men’s voices asked.

The shadowy figure answered in a low voice, "I am!"

Without saying a word, the two coachmen grabbed his arms from both sides, lifted him up, and threw him into the black carriage.

The carriage door slammed shut, and the black carriage immediately started moving, speeding away in a different direction from the gold carriage.

"Another one! Over there! Don't let him get away!"

The youth guard split up again, and several other carriages roared after the black carriage, leaving the courtyard suddenly empty.

At the same time, several more members of the youth guard broke into the villa. Their goal did not seem to be to arrest anyone, but rather to greedily look at the furnishings inside the villa.

Then, they noticed the tall young man in the shadows...

A military cadet shouted, "He...he's here! Who were those two carriages just now?"

The others also noticed this, and they lunged at Lionel with savage grins, brandishing sticks.

Lionel charged forward, smashing past the two people in front of him, and then, relying on the darkness and his familiarity with the terrain, he made his way around the hall and the tables and chairs.

He rushed into the messy backyard and headed towards the Seine.

A thin mist rose from the riverbank, carrying the fishy smell of aquatic plants.

Lionel knew there was a small boat moored on the shore there, and he could row away.

If all else fails, jumping into the river and swimming away isn't out of the question—it just smells a bit awful.

After landing, he would go to Zola's Villa Médan, and then go outside of Paris to completely get rid of the threat of these fanatical young people.

Just as they were about to reach the shore, an unusually tall figure suddenly emerged from the darkness and blocked their path.

Lionel couldn't stop in time and crashed headfirst into it, feeling as if he had hit a big tree.

The man was extremely tall, but his spine was severely scoliotic, his entire upper body was twisted, and his head was forced to tilt to one side.

He lowered his head and carefully examined Lionel's face, flushed from running and nervousness, in the dim light of the water.

He asked gruffly, "Mr. Sorel?"

Lionel pursed his lips and did not answer immediately, but his features were so clear in the moonlight.

The man seemed to have confirmed something, and a somewhat strained but sincere smile appeared on his face: "It's Mr. Sorel! We've been waiting all day..."

His tone was filled with relieved joy: "Come with me! Someone's chasing us!"

Without waiting for Lionel's reaction, he bent down and, with his immense strength, easily lifted Lionel up by the waist and hoisted him onto his shoulder.

Lionel struggled, his vision spinning: "Hey! Put me down!"

The giant ignored Lionel and strode toward the shore.

By this time, several members of the youth guard who had realized what was happening had already caught up with them, shouting as they chased after them.

"stop!"

"Put him down!"

The tall man remained calm. He strode to the riverbank and tossed Lionel, who was on his shoulder, onto a boat that was already waiting there.

He shouted towards the ship, "It's yours to handle!" Then he turned around abruptly and used his mountain-like body to block the fanatical youths.

Lionel flew through the air in a brief arc before landing with a thud on the wooden bottom of the small boat.

It felt like the back of my head hit something hard, and a sharp pain and dizziness suddenly struck.

Just before his consciousness faded into darkness, he struggled to lift his eyelids.

In the shimmering light of the water, he saw that the boatman was an extremely short dwarf who was grinning at him, which was quite eerie.

A boy sat at the stern, his skin almost transparently pale, glowing faintly in the darkness, and he too wore an inhuman smile.

Then, darkness completely overwhelmed his senses.

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The black carriage sped along, bumping and jolting.

A dark figure struggled to sit up and ripped off the cumbersome hood of a cloak.

He roared angrily at the blurry figures in the carriage: "Who are you people? Do you know who I am?"
This is kidnapping! I'm going to send you all to the guillotine! Let me go!

The woman opposite him gasped in surprise, "You're not Mr. Sorel?"

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Inside the luxurious golden carriage, not even a gas lamp was lit; only the occasional passing streetlight briefly illuminated the darkness.

Another dark figure was thrown in and was thrown around, feeling dizzy and disoriented, almost fainting.

At that moment, a young woman's proud and cold voice rang out in the darkness, delivering a judgment in a condescending tone:
"Didn't you say I've always been a Russian? Ha, a great French writer, it turns out, needs Russians to save him!"

(End of this chapter)