Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 373 We are comrades!
The carriage continued its bumpy journey for quite some time, the sounds of wheels and hooves creating a monotonous rhythm.

Lionel sat leaning against the haystack, silently facing Baptiste, Jean, and Luke, his inner struggles far from subsiding.

Finally, the carriage came to a slow stop. Outside, there was a cacophony of voices, the neighing of livestock, and the salty smell of the sea.

"We've arrived, Calais."

Nuo's "small feet" allowed her to nimbly slip out of the carriage and lift the rear cover.

The glaring sunlight and the fishy smell rushed in together.

Lionel got out of the car and found himself inside a spacious warehouse.

Sunlight streamed down through the high windows, forming beams of light in the dusty air.

Several caravans were parked in the warehouse, their bodies painted with images of lions, elephants, and trapeze artists, as well as the words "Le Pland Brothers Circus" in cursive script.

The doors of the other caravans opened one after another, and more people got off.

Most of these people have various obvious "flaws":
An abnormally obese woman, resembling a mountain of flesh; a tall, thin man with unusually long arms; a young girl with large birthmarks covering her face...

They looked at Lionel with curiosity, their eyes filled with friendliness.

At that moment, two people emerged from the largest covered wagon—or rather, a conjoined twin with two heads and a shared torso.

They were dressed in black suits, had similar faces, and both possessed the composure and experience typical of middle-aged people, but their eyes revealed shrewdness.

The head on the left spoke, his voice booming: "Welcome, Mr. Lionel Sorel. I am your brother, Auguste Lepland."

The head on the right then said, "I am the younger brother, Louis Le Pland."

Then the two of them spoke together: "On behalf of all members of the 'Le Pland Brothers Circus,' we would like to express our highest respect to you."

The two bowed slightly.

Lionel quickly returned the greeting: "Mr. Lepland, thank you very much, and your team members, for risking your lives to save me."

August smiled and said, "You're too kind. It's our pleasure to do anything for you."

We, who have been played a cruel joke on by fate, understand the power of your open letter more than anyone else.

Faced with such straightforward and sincere admiration, Lionel shook his head: "I just wrote down what I thought was true and necessary."

It's a pleasant surprise that this has been helpful to everyone; I dare not take credit for it.

He paused, then said firmly, "However, I have decided that I will not leave France before the trial on September 1st."

I will stand in court and state my case! Just like in that open letter, I will not shirk my responsibility!

The smiles on the Lepland brothers' faces froze. They looked at each other and saw the difficulty in each other's eyes.

August frowned: "Mr. Sorel, this is probably not quite the same as the 'mission' we were given."

Lionel was very surprised: "A mission? Someone else is directing you to do this?"

Louis nodded, readily admitting, "Indeed, someone provided us with information, directions, and the necessary connections."

But please believe me, this is exactly what we want to do. Our relationship with them is one of cooperation.

Lionel pressed on, "Who is the other side?"

Just then, a small door on the side of the warehouse was pushed open, and several figures walked in.

The leader was a man of about forty years old, of medium build, with a thick mustache, and full of energy.

He walked straight up to Lionel and extended his hand: “Mr. Lionel Sorel, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Paul Lafargue, a member of the Workers’ Party.”

Paul Lafargue?! Lionel's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly grasped his hand: "Mr. Lafargue, it's an honor to meet you. It's you..."

Lafargue readily admitted, "Yes, it was our collaboration with the Lepland Brothers Circus that brought you out of Vernef."

Lionel was still confused: "Why the circus? The Workers' Party..."

Lafargue smiled. "If we were to act directly, it would be too sensitive. The government would think we're planning something big..."

The members of the Lepland Brothers Circus were also oppressed. Many of them had escaped during the commune era.

Lionel nodded. "I understand. But I still want to say thank you for your kindness. However, I can't leave like a fugitive!"

Paul Lafargue shook his head: "Mr. Sorel, your idea is both brave and classical."

Ten years ago, or even five years ago, the courtroom might indeed have served as your platform, earning you applause. But now, everything is different!

Lionel felt a sense of unease: "What's different?"

Lafargue did not answer directly, but instead asked in return: "Was the encirclement by the 'French Republican Youth Guard' really just a spontaneous action driven by the passion of young people?"

Lionel was speechless. Those young people were indeed too organized, and the police's leniency was too obvious.

Lafargue continued to hurl even sharper questions: "What if I told you that this trial might not bring you a fine or a few months of symbolic imprisonment—"

Instead, what if it were at least three years of hard labor, exiled to a place like Setif, Algeria? Would you still be willing to go to court and deliver a passionate speech?

Lionel fell silent upon hearing this, his experiences of the past few days flashing through his mind like a revolving lantern.

The newspapers were filled with accusations and slander, and the "Youth Guard" surrounded, harassed, and even attacked...

After a long while, he sighed and said, "I never imagined that France would one day become like Russia!"
Exile a writer? They even granted amnesty to members of the commune before! Really…

At this point, Lionel stopped talking, realizing a possibility.

Lafargue shook his head: "Mr. Sorel, you lack experience in such struggles. Just because you didn't exile writers before doesn't mean you won't now."

Legal provisions are static, but people are dynamic, especially when it comes to attacking political opponents...

Please believe me, we have very reliable sources in Parliament!

Lionel was still incredulous: "Aren't they afraid of paying the price? Public opinion won't stand for it!"

Lafargue smiled dismissively: "The price? Any price is worth paying to bring down Jules Ferry, especially one that doesn't require them to 'bleed' themselves."

Using a young writer like you, who has a great reputation but little foundation, to write articles is the cheapest and most efficient method they can find.

As for public opinion? Once the verdict is handed down and the uproar subsides, how many people will continue to care about the fate of a writer who has been "punished according to law"?
At most, a few judges with pockets full of francs will resign! New hot topics will emerge soon! Parisians will soon forget you…

Lionel fell silent, realizing that he had indeed oversimplified the problem.

Lafargue further explained: "Actually, the whole thing has little to do with the right or wrong of colonial policy itself."

Over the past year, Jules Ferry stripped conservative nobles of their hereditary positions, expelled clergy, and dissolved the Jesuits...

He has offended far too many people! Even those who were originally neutral are now feeling uneasy.

They couldn't stand Ferry anymore, not even for a day longer! They wanted a Republican government like Gambitova's.

He paused for a moment before pointing out the key point: "So, of all the ways to bring down Ferry, which is easier than using Ferry's own stance on colonial issues and your influence to destroy his credibility?"

Ferry supports colonization, while you oppose it. Now the public sentiment has been stirred up, and the people are divided. Can Ferry still say that he cannot put you on trial?
Everything was done in his name! By opposing your trial, he is essentially announcing a break with his supporters and a demand to step down.
If you are convicted, his political reputation will be completely ruined, and he will have to step down...

Lionel was utterly speechless—if that were the case, the more successful his courtroom speech was, the more successful the conspiracy would be.

Paul Lafargue concluded: "Therefore, Mr. Sorel, leaving now and going to England for a while is the wisest choice at present."

They'll find another way to bring down Jules Ferry. It will be safer for you to come back after everything has calmed down.

Your pen should be used for something more valuable, not in a hard labor camp.

Lionel took a deep breath and asked the question that mattered most to him: "Why would you help me?"

Paul Lafargue smiled: "In many matters, we can be considered comrades!"

Lionel nodded: "Given my current special status, how can I go?"

Seeing that his attitude had softened, Lafargue's tone also softened: "We've already made arrangements. We'll go by fishing boat and disguise ourselves as sailors."

Countless fishing boats cross the Channel daily in Calais, and inspections are lax. We've also made arrangements with the UK; someone will meet you and ensure your safety.

"And there's a gentleman over there who also wants to meet you."

Lionel asked curiously, "Who?"

Paul Lafargue's smile became meaningful: "Someone you may have heard of, you'll find out when you get to England."

Just then, a long, drawn-out whistle sounded from the port, as if a giant ship was about to set sail.

(If the network is working properly, updates will continue as usual tonight.)

(End of this chapter)