Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 429 He's a Pirate! (Bonus Chapter 3, Requesting Monthly Tickets)

That shout of "Iceberg! Big iceberg!" was like a bucket of ice water being poured over the heads of the passengers on the deck.

After a moment of deathly silence, panic exploded like a plague!

"God! An iceberg!"

"Where?!"

Are we going to crash into them too?

"Titan...no!"

People panicked and rushed to the ship's side, creating a chaotic scene.

Even Lionel, who had just recounted the tragedy, was stunned, his heart skipping a beat: Could it be such a coincidence?

Captain Pierre Lafogue of the Perel shouted, "Make way! Make way, all of you!"

With a livid face, he pushed through the panicked crowd and rushed to the starboard railing.

He looked in the direction the passenger, whose face was deathly pale with fright, was pointing—

In the distance, under the clear sky and blazing sun, there was indeed a large patch of dazzling reflection on the sea surface, and it was clearly not seawater, but ice crystals.

More passengers crowded to the ship's side, craning their necks to look out, their terrified cries rising and falling.

"Look! It's white!"

"They're icebergs! So many!"

"We're fucked!"

Captain Lafogg ignored the commotion around him, quickly raised the binoculars that had been hanging around his neck, adjusted the focus, and looked at the reflective area.

He stared at it for several seconds before his tense shoulders gradually relaxed.

He put down his binoculars, turned around, raised his hands, and shouted:

"Quiet! Everyone, quiet!"

The chaotic noise subsided slightly, and everyone stared nervously at the captain.

Captain Lafogger announced loudly: "Gentlemen! Please remain calm! That is not an iceberg, at least not one that can threaten the Perel!"

That's just a patch of floating ice, with scattered ice floes, the largest only a few meters high! They're far away from us and pose no danger to our shipping lanes!

He paused, and to make his words more convincing, he added with professional knowledge: "And, please remember, it's October now!"
The iceberg season in the North Atlantic is from April to June each year! It's simply impossible for large icebergs to appear in this area during this season!
That's just the last remnant of this summer's collapse, drifting here with the ocean currents, it'll soon melt away!

After hearing the captain's calm and forceful explanation, and with some passengers with good eyesight squinting to confirm that the ice blocks were indeed very small and far away, the panic on the deck quickly dissipated.

"So it was ice floes..."

"Scared me!"

"It's all because of Mr. Sorel's story..."

"Haha, we're just scaring ourselves!"

People breathed a sigh of relief and began to joke with each other, laughing about the false alarm caused by the story with a sense of relief that they had survived a disaster.

The passenger who first spotted the "iceberg" scratched his head sheepishly amidst everyone's laughter, but also grinned.

The sunlight shone on everyone's faces, and the fear from just now seemed like an unreal little episode.

At dinner time, the atmosphere in the restaurant was much more relaxed than in the previous days, and everyone was still talking about the "iceberg horror" that afternoon.

Alphonse Daudet wiped his mouth with a napkin and suddenly looked at Lionel: "Lionel, to be honest, your story about the 'Titan' is terrifying. It makes everything look like an iceberg to us now."

I ask you, are there still many stories about the sea and voyages hidden in your heart that you haven't told yet?

Lionel was cutting the roast chicken on his plate when he heard this. He looked up, paused for a moment, and then nodded frankly: "There are indeed some left."

Alphonse Daudet's eyes lit up, and he immediately said, "In that case, I have a suggestion. It was supposed to be my turn to tell a story tomorrow—"

But I feel that no matter what I say, it's unlikely to be as captivating as your two previous stories. Therefore, I'm willing to give you my chance!
As long as you're still willing to talk, and as long as it's still about the sea and sailing, my time is yours!

As soon as he said this, Maupassant, who was sitting next to him, immediately chimed in loudly: "I agree! Léon, you speak! I already gave you my share!"

In this "storytelling competition," he was the first person to "deserve."

If a collection of novels is actually published, and he's the only one of the nine people who went to America who didn't have it, how embarrassing would that be?
However, if there are other people who also didn't leave behind a story, then his embarrassment is greatly reduced.

Émile Zola nodded slowly: "Lional's stories always provoke deeper thought, and the plots are intricate and moving."

Leon, if you have any more stories to tell, then you can have mine too.

With Zola's introduction, Maupassant was even more pleased, and his embarrassment was reduced to one-third. He then turned his hopeful gaze to others.

Huysmann, Goncourt, and the others exchanged glances and nodded in agreement, indicating their willingness to give their story time to Lionel.

On the one hand, having experienced the philosophical insights of "The Legend of 1900" and the tragic grandeur of "Titan," they were all filled with anticipation for Lionel's next story; on the other hand, they themselves lacked experience in life at sea, so the stories they came up with were unlikely to be as captivating as Lionel's.

This is nothing like the "Meitang Night Meeting." They were all personally involved in the Franco-Prussian War, and they could easily find a lot of material about it.

Looking at his friends' warm and trusting eyes, Lionel hesitated for a moment, then smiled and nodded: "Alright. Since everyone is willing to listen, I'll tell you a few more stories."

By evening, the entertainment room was once again packed, and everyone knew that Lionel would be telling the story again tonight.

Everyone wants to hear what kind of nautical story Lionel will bring after experiencing romance and destruction.

Lionel once again stepped onto the small stage, and as before, he took out a silver coin and placed it on the music stand.

The pianist, "80 Years," skillfully took the money, smiled, and said, "What role would you like me to play tonight, Mr. Sorel?"

Lionel laughed too: "No, tonight you're just Mr. Durand—oh, I should call you '80', please play some soothing tunes as you please."

With a gentle piano background, Lionel begins his third story.

"Tonight I'm going to tell a story about imprisonment, intellect, challenges, and how humanity struggles in extreme loneliness."

The protagonist of the story is a passenger on the 'Perel,' an amateur chess enthusiast, Dr. B..."

Is it the "Perel" again? The captain was a little nervous and regretful, regretting that he hadn't told Lionel that afternoon not to tell any more stories about shipwrecks.

As Lionel slowly narrated, the story gradually unfolded its outline—

"During a long voyage, he learned by chance that one of his fellow passengers was none other than Wilhelm Steinitz, one of the world's top chess masters."

A low gasp rippled through the audience; Steinitz's name was familiar even to those who weren't chess fans.

This Austrian, living in London, has defeated all the top chess players in Europe and is recognized as the number one chess player.

"...William Steinitz easily defeated everyone on the ship who knew how to play chess..."

Encouraged by those around him, Dr. B mustered his courage and played a game of chess against the chess master...

To everyone's surprise, including the master himself, this amateur actually won!

As Lionel recounts his story, the secret to Dr. B's exceptional chess skills is revealed—

He was originally a nobleman and lawyer living in the Austrian Empire; however, he was arrested by the secret police because he exposed the scandals of the Habsburg family.

After that, he was imprisoned in a solitary cell with only four walls, forbidden to communicate with anyone, and not even to say a word to the jailers, for a full 20 years.

A chess manual he stumbled upon by chance became his lifeline—

To maintain his sanity and avoid going completely insane, he played chess with himself day after day, year after year, tearing his mind apart into two opposing entities...

After his release from prison, in order to prove whether he could play "a game of chess on a real chessboard, with real pieces, against a living person" like a normal person, he chose to play against Wilhelm Steinitz.

After learning about his experience, Wilhelm Steinitz chose a cruel way to defeat him in the second game: he slowed down the pace, thought for a full ten minutes for each move, and deliberately made moves that did not conform to the rules of chess.
All of this made Dr. B increasingly anxious and agitated, eventually plunging him into a state of split personality and mania, only snapping him back to his senses when someone reminded him.

Dr. B abruptly stood up and said, "I made a foolish mistake!" He then bowed to Wilhelm Steinitz, "What I just said was pure nonsense. Needless to say, you've won this game."

Then he addressed the audience, saying, "Gentlemen, I must ask for your forgiveness. Please forgive my embarrassment—this is my last attempt at playing chess."

Having said that, he left, and never appeared in the card room again.

The story is over.

The recreation room was silent. Unlike the grand tragedy of the Titan, the destruction revealed in this story existed in the heart and was silent.

Alphonse Daudet murmured to himself, “A person can be brought out in absolute solitude, but at such a price.”

Everyone believes that the core of this story lies in revealing that spiritual loneliness is far more terrifying than physical imprisonment.

It may inspire amazing wisdom, but it can also drive people to the brink of madness.

After a long while, a passenger broke the silence: "Mr. Sorel, your stories are wonderful, each one is unforgettable."

However, each of the three stories you told was more somber than the last. The lonely choice of '80 years,' the life-and-death separation on the 'Titan,' and the mental anguish of this chess player tonight…

It weighed heavily on our hearts. Tomorrow, could you tell us a lighter story? Something less upsetting.

His words resonated with many people present, who nodded and looked at Lionel with expectant eyes.

Lionel looked at everyone, a smile on his face, and nodded: "Alright. Tomorrow, I'll tell a lighter adventure story."

The crowd erupted in a satisfied cheer.

The following afternoon, the sun shone brightly and the sea breeze was gentle. The recreation room was packed with people earlier than ever before, and the atmosphere was exceptionally lively.

Lionel took the stage on time, and as usual, started playing the "80s" piece before beginning his narration:
"This story takes place in the early 18th century in the turbulent Caribbean."

There was a pirate ship that appeared and disappeared mysteriously, its speed astonishing, like a ghost; its name was...
—'The Black Pearl'…

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(End of this chapter)