Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 547 We Have a Traitor Among Us! (Bonus Chapter 4 for 1000 Votes)

Richard Everard received a summons from the Interior Ministry at 3 p.m. that day.

The messenger was a stoic civil servant. I handed him the envelope and left without saying a word.

Richard Everard opened the envelope with trembling hands; inside was an official letter.

要求他“于1882年9月11日上午10时，至内政部就《良言》杂志出版《1984》一事接受问询”。

It didn't say that I could bring a lawyer, nor did it say that I could refuse.

Richard Everard slumped into his chair. It had to happen.

The boss, Alexander Strand, had called him in a few days ago, berated him for a full half hour, and finally said, "You caused this mess, so you have to fix it yourself."
The magazine editors looked at him with schadenfreude; at home, his wife cried all day long, and his children, though unaware of what had happened, could sense the fear.

Now, the summons from the Ministry of the Interior has arrived, and Everard knows what awaits him.

The three statements have made it very clear: "1984" is an illegal publication and its publisher will face severe punishment.

He is the editor-in-chief and the person primarily responsible.

He didn't know what punishment he would receive; all he knew was that he was finished.

Everard didn't sleep a wink all night. He sat in his study, staring out at the dark London, his mind blank.

Sometimes he would think, "If only I had read the manuscript that day; if I had, I would never have agreed to publish it."

He is still the editor-in-chief of "Good Words" and a respectable London cultural figure.

Unfortunately, no if.

At 10:9 a.m. on September 11, Richard Everard appeared on time in the office of Permanent Under-Secretary Edgar Winslop.

This time, however, there was one more person: Sir Edmund Henderson, the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police of London.

Instead of asking him directly, Winthrop took a stack of newspapers from the drawer and threw them in front of him: "Take a look."

Everard looked down and saw Le Figaro at the top. He could read it in French: "Richard Everard: Europe's most courageous editor."

The following is an excerpt from the Aurora Daily: "The Conscience of the Publishing Industry".

Below that were newspapers from Berlin, Vienna, Rome… in various languages. Although he didn’t recognize some of them, he knew that the headlines all meant roughly the same thing.

His shirt was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

Winthrop repeated: "Europe's most courageous editor, the conscience of the publishing world, the glory of British literature, the defender of freedom of the press..."

He looked up at Everard and said, “Congratulations, Mr. Everard. You are now a celebrity throughout Europe.”

Everard's lips trembled: "Sir, I...I didn't know any of this...I haven't...I haven't been in the mood to read the newspaper these past few days..."

Winthrop laughed: "Don't know? Well, you must know what '1984' is about, right? When you published it, you should have known very well what it was about."

Everard began to tremble. He knew the most crucial moment had arrived.

His voice began to tremble with sobs: "Sir, I...I didn't see it at the time..."

Winthrop leaned forward, his imposing manner demanding, "What did you say?"

Everard burst into tears: "I didn't see it. There was too much time. Conan Doyle said that '1984' had to be published before 'Scandal in Bohemia' could be given to him."

I...I didn't even look at it, I just arranged for it to be printed.

He explained incoherently, "It's my fault. I was so eager to get the new Sherlock Holmes stories. I was afraid of missing the opportunity, and I was afraid the magazine sales would drop..."

I was out of my mind, I was really out of my mind…

Winslop watched him cry quietly, and only spoke after he calmed down a little: "What did you say to me when you came to the Ministry of the Interior to report that day?"

You said, "1984 is a work that looks to the future and is full of praise for empire." You said Lionel Sorel was "willing to reconcile with Britain."

These were your words, weren't they? Then you are still deliberately deceiving me! Deceiving an imperial minister who trusted you.

Everard's face turned pale.

He stammered in his defense: "At that time... I wanted you to think I had solved the problem, I wanted to make you happy... so I lied."

I didn't actually read the manuscript; I don't know what was written in it. I just... just heard Conan Doyle say it was a work praising the Empire.

Winthrop raised an eyebrow: "Conan Doyle told you?"

Everard grasped at a straw: "Yes! He said it! He told me that the background of '1984' is 1984, when the British Empire ruled the world."

Truth, peace, friendship, and prosperity are the government's goals... He said this was a work praising the empire, and I believed him; I was too eager to get my hands on 'Sherlock Holmes'."

Winthrop leaned back in his chair: "So, Conan Doyle deceived you."

Everard quickly said, "Yes! He deceived me! He misled me! If I had known the true contents of '1984,' I would never have published it!"

I am the editor-in-chief of "Good Words," how could I publish a work that insults Her Majesty the Queen? I love my country, I respect the Queen, I…”

Winthrop interrupted him: "Who can prove it?"

Everard was stunned: "What?"

"You say Conan Doyle deceived you. But the day you came to the Ministry of the Interior and told me that you had seen '1984,' a masterpiece."

Now you're saying you didn't watch it, that you heard it from Conan Doyle—"

Winslop shrugged. "Which version will the judge believe? An editor who doesn't even read the manuscript in order to curry favor, or a deceived victim?" Everard was speechless.

Winthrop looked at Sir Henderson: "Director, in Mr. Everard's case, if a lawsuit is filed, what might the verdict be?"

Sir Henderson spoke, his tone authoritative: "Under the Treason Act of 1848, publishing works that insult Her Majesty the Queen is punishable by life imprisonment and exile."

Under the Obscene Publications Act of 1857, the penalty is imprisonment for more than two years and a fine. If multiple offenses are committed…

He paused, watching Everard's face turn pale, before continuing, "A sentence of more than ten years is very possible, with at least five years of hard labor."

In Dartmoor or Portland Island prisons, mining, road construction, quarrying. You probably wouldn't last three years, Mr. Everard.

Everard trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes again. He imagined himself in prison clothes, smashing stones in the cold wind.

He imagines his wife bringing their child to visit him in prison, the child not recognizing his father. He imagines dying in prison, with no one remembering who he was.

He murmured, "No...no...please..."

Winslop sighed, his tone softening slightly: "Mr. Everard, I didn't want to see this outcome either."

You are a cultured person, an editor-in-chief, and should have a respectable life. But the law is the law. Her Majesty the Queen has been insulted, the Empire has been ridiculed, and someone has to be held accountable.

Everard was completely paralyzed and lost all ability to think.

He stood up, walked over to Everard, and bent down: "But perhaps, things can still turn around."

Everard looked up abruptly: "A turning point? What turning point?"

Winthrop straightened up again: "If you really were deceived by Conan Doyle, if you really published '1984' without your knowledge—"

Then your crime will be much less serious. After all, you were merely careless, not intentionally treasonous.

Everard was practically crying out: "I was truly deceived! I swear! God is my witness, I really had no idea what '1984' was about!"

Winthrop walked back to his seat and sat down: "But you need to prove that Conan Doyle did indeed deceive you, prove that he intentionally misled you into publishing that work."

Everard was stunned. Evidence? What evidence did he have? Only two people were present during his conversation with Conan Doyle.

Winslop carefully observed his expression before slowly saying, "However, if Conan Doyle is prosecuted, your testimony itself will be evidence."

If you are willing to testify in court that Conan Doyle deceived you, leading you to publish *1984* without his approval, then the court may believe you.

Everard's eyes lit up: "I do! I'm willing to be a witness!"

Sir Henderson interjected: "Can you take responsibility for your testimony? If we were to prosecute Conan Doyle—"

Can you stand in the witness stand, swear to the Bible, and say, "Conan Doyle deceived me"?

Everard stood up: "I can! I swear on my life! I didn't lie this time! I can appear in court, I can testify as many times as I want!"
Conan Doyle is the one who deceived me! Yes, and that Lionel Sorel too!
"If he hadn't insisted on publishing '1984' first, I wouldn't have made that mistake! It was all a conspiracy!"

Winslop finally smiled: "Very good, Mr. Everard, please remember what you said today. I hope you won't let me down this time."

Everard nodded vigorously, so much so that one feared his head might fall off: "Absolutely not! I'll prove it with my actions!"

Winslop then waved his hand: "Then you can go back now and wait for our notification. However, I also want to see how you prove yourself with your actions..."

Everard repeatedly assured, "I will... I will..." before scrambling out of the office, his steps light as if he were about to fly.

After watching Richard Everard disappear down the street from the window, Sir Henderson turned back and asked, "What will that idiot do?"

Winthrop shook his head dismissively: "Since he's a fool, don't try to guess what he'll do. But he always manages to create some surprises, doesn't he?"

Sir Henderson skillfully retrieved a bottle of fine French wine from the wine cabinet in Winthrop's office and poured it into two glasses.

He raised his glass high: "Then let's toast to the surprise! To the future minister!"

------------

The following day, September 12, The Times published a statement in the lower right corner of its front page.

This wasn't an official announcement, but a personal statement filled with remorse and accusations. The title was eye-catching:

Richard Everard, editor-in-chief of *Good Words*: I've been deceived!

The content is simple: he stated that the reason why "Good Words" published "1984" was entirely due to a deception by Lionel Sorel and Arthur Conan Doyle.

The two men made it a condition that "1984" be published before "A Scandal in Bohemia" could be serialized, which led him to make a mistake in his haste, publishing it before it was properly reviewed and committing a serious error.

He himself, and the magazine "Good Words," have always taken pride in the Empire and considered it a blessing to bask in the glory of the Queen's rule, and have absolutely no disrespect whatsoever.

……

The statement concluded with a note from The Times stating that it was published only after the newspaper's editor and Mr. Everard had personally confirmed the statement.

Europe was shocked once again! Especially Everard's colleagues, the editors of newspapers and magazines.

"Europe's most courageous editor-in-chief," "the conscience of the publishing industry," "the glory of British literature," "the defender of freedom of the press"... overnight, he became a traitor?
"Published before review"—even a dog wouldn't believe such nonsense! If it were written into a novel, readers would complain it's too outlandish! Editors aren't stupid.

There is only one reason: by 1882, the British Empire had already mastered the ideology and physical torture methods of the British "Ministry of Love" in 1984!
Only in this way could a heroic editor like Richard Everard be persuaded to betray his beliefs and sell out his authors.

Like Winston in 1984, he ultimately suffered a double collapse of reason and morality in the fear of rats gnawing at his face, and finally betrayed his lover Julia.

This is a novel come true! Within just one month!
The speed at which the British Empire adapted and applied this new approach astonished and horrified almost everyone who witnessed it.

The French, who already thought Britain was bad enough, couldn't believe it could be this bad!
Only Alexander III of St. Petersburg spoke with great interest to General Vikowski of the Third Hall:
"Go and find out how the British did it!"

(Fourth update. I couldn't sleep anyway, so I wrote it all in the night. Please vote!)
(End of this chapter)