As long as we're not embarrassed, they'll be the ones who are.
The news of the "Young Guard of the French Republic" surrounding Lionel's villa in Villeneuve once again ignited public opinion in Paris.
Le Petit Parisien was the first to publish a detailed report on its front page, with a highly provocative headline:
"Patriotic Guard? Or Illegal Intimidation? — The 'Young Guard' Besieges Sorel's Villa Late at Night!"
The report meticulously described the scene that night and quoted parts of the conversation between Lionel and Charles de La Rochefoucauld.
The report also included a carefully drawn illustration — the torchlight reflecting on the excited faces of young cadets, contrasting sharply with the tightly closed gates of the villa.
La République followed suit, publishing a stern commentary:
"The Retreat of the Rule of Law — A Review of the 'Young Guard's' Siege of a Writer's Residence."
The article sharply pointed out that regardless of one's views on Lionel Sorel's political opinions, coercively placing a citizen under disguised house arrest was a blatant violation of the Republic's spirit of the rule of law.
The article questioned whether the Jules Ferry cabinet was already powerless to control the situation, or even secretly condoning such extreme behavior.
Le National attempted to find justification for the "Young Guard's" actions: "The Passion of Youth and the Future of the Nation."
The article argued that while the young people's actions might have been misguided in their approach, their motivation was to "defend the honor of France and national interests."
This demonstrated the deep love of the younger generation for their homeland and their natural vigilance against "erroneous ideologies."
The article implied that Lionel Sorel's "inopportune" remarks were the root cause of this disturbance.
Le Matin, La Voix, L'Intransigeant... almost all newspapers joined the debate.
Supporters considered it a "spontaneous manifestation of patriotism," while opponents denounced it as "remnants of absolutism" and a "shame on civilization."
In salons, cafes, and parliamentary corridors, people were fiercely debating the same topic: were these young people's actions patriotic, or criminal?
————————
Bourbon Palace, Prime Minister's Office.
Jules Ferry once again slammed a newspaper onto the table, its front page featuring the illustration of the besieged villa.
His face was ashen, his chest heaving with anger.
He had lost count of how many times he had lost his temper over Lionel during this period.
He roared,
"Stupid! Utterly stupid! These cadets with muscles for brains! Do they think this is a medieval knight game?
Besieging the residence of a famous writer?! What do they want to turn the Republic into? A country that can be arbitrarily coerced by mobs?!"
He abruptly turned to the Minister of Interior standing before his desk:
"Immediately! Send people to Villeneuve and disperse those lawless brats!"
Ernest Constans, the Minister of Interior, showed a troubled expression:
"Mr. Prime Minister, please calm down. Duke de La Rochefoucauld just called me yesterday afternoon—
He expressed his admiration for your 'firm resolve' in promoting colonial policies."
These words were like a basin of cold water poured over Jules Ferry's head, instantly calming him down considerably.
The La Rochefoucauld family was deeply entrenched in the military and conservative forces, a power he needed to treat with caution.
Edmond de Rohan also spoke up to advise,
"Mr. Prime Minister, while these young people's actions are excessive, they are the staunchest supporters of colonial policy.
They have family interests or personal ambitions in Algeria and Tunisia. If we disperse them now, how many hearts will be chilled?
What will public opinion think? The right-wing newspapers will certainly sensationalize it, saying that we are suppressing patriotic youth!"
Jules Ferry felt a surge of powerlessness:
"Are we just to let them run wild? This will set an extremely bad precedent!
Today they can besiege Sorel, tomorrow they can besiege anyone they don't like!"
Ernest Constans carefully chose his words:
"It's currently summer vacation; these young people are idle, which is why they're doing such foolish things.
Young people lack patience; they'll disperse on their own in a few days, so we don't need to worry too much."
Jules Ferry opened his mouth, wanting to retort, but found himself in a dilemma.
Crushing these youths would offend the military and conservative forces, shaking the foundation of his colonial policies;
Ignoring them would be tantamount to tacitly endorsing the legitimacy of such violent coercion, damaging the rule of law and government authority.
He felt as if he was sitting on a powder keg, and the fuse was in the hands of those fanatical youths and the forces behind them.
Finally, he wearily waved his hand:
"First... try to communicate with them. We must ensure Lionel Sorel's personal safety!
Nothing must happen to him, especially at a time like this!"
Jules Ferry looked at the cabinet ministers before him, as if seeing them for the first time.
He felt somewhat annoyed, so he turned to look out the window at the Parisian sky, but beneath the summer's azure canopy, unsettling undercurrents seemed to be stirring.
——————
On the second day of the siege of the Villeneuve villa, the atmosphere was even worse than the previous night.
Even the cook's small pony cart, used for shopping, was inspected by them, as if that small cart, barely big enough for two bottoms, held a hidden world.
In the afternoon, Petit finished her homework and wanted to play in the front yard for a while, but the dozens of watchful eyes outside scared her back in.
By evening, the "Young Guard" simply pitched several tents nearby and lit bonfires, looking quite prepared for a prolonged encampment.
This was originally a suburban area with plenty of open space nearby, so the operation was smooth as silk.
Charles de La Rochefoucauld still strutted like a proud rooster, patrolling outside the villa fence, casting provocative glances at the brightly lit study window on the second floor.
The other young people sang from time to time, especially those close to Lionel's residence.
Sometimes they sang the revolutionary victory song "We Shall Succeed"—
"Ah, we shall succeed, we shall succeed, we shall succeed,
The people today cry out ceaselessly—
Ah, we shall succeed, we shall succeed,
Despite the traitors, everything will triumph."
Other times they sang "Song of the Girondins," the national anthem of the Second Republic—
"Brothers, for the sacred cause,
When each of us is a martyr,
Let us not complain,
France must someday bless us."
The singing continued almost all night, only gradually dying down in the latter half of the night.
Many also shone lights at Lionel's doors and windows, seemingly checking if anyone was trying to escape under the cover of darkness.
The government was not entirely inactive—they dispatched a team of police to guard Lionel's villa entrance, preventing anyone from emotionally storming in.
But they also stated that the protection they could offer was limited to this, as the other party had not yet explicitly violated any law.
As for "harassment"... the scope of this definition was entirely at the discretion of the police.
Lionel sat in his study, not as anxious as the outside world imagined.
He was reviewing the latest production reports from the "Sorel-Peugeot Mechanical Manufacturing Company" and simultaneously planning the preliminary route map for the "Tour de Paris Bicycle Race."
Sophie was helping him sort letters, while Alice was tapping something on a "Sorel Model 1" typewriter at another desk.
Petit, meanwhile, was hunched over a copy of Montiel's Secret Scrolls - Daily Summer Vacation Practice, writing with a mournful expression.
Sophie suddenly put down the letters in her hand:
"Are you really not worried, Lion? They're like a pack of hyenas, guarding outside."
Lionel smiled:
"Hyenas only circle weak prey."
He patted the reports on the table:
"Our bicycle sales grew by another twenty-five percent this month.
As long as our machines are still running, these noises will disappear sooner or later."
Then he looked at the people in the room and smilingly made a suggestion:
"Let's go have a big meal at the 'Café Anglais' tomorrow!"
Sophie, Alice, Petit: "Huh?"
————————
The next morning, a four-wheeled carriage was waiting at Lionel's villa entrance.
Lionel and the others leisurely boarded the carriage and headed straight for Paris.
Several carriages from the "Young Guard" immediately followed, entering the city; closely trailed by carriages of newspaper reporters.
Lionel first took Sophie and the others to "Printemps Department Store," allowing the ladies to shop to their heart's content.
A dozen burly men from the "Young Guard" could only awkwardly peek around the end of the shelves like shifty-eyed thieves.
Passing customers pointed at them, whispered, and occasionally burst into light laughter, as if they were visiting a zoo.
Afterward, Lionel took them to "Le Bon Marché" to select various household items for winter.
This time, the "Young Guard" couldn't get in, blocked by the doorman, and had to split up to guard the front and back doors of "Le Bon Marché."
Thus, they became an even more striking Parisian sight; whether it was guests entering or exiting the department store, or passersby, everyone couldn't help but stare at them.
At noon, Lionel and the others went to the most upscale "Café Anglais" in Paris for lunch—Lionel had only been there once when Gu Hongming invited him.
Although Lionel was impressed by the "Three Emperors Menu," the exorbitant cost deterred the ladies, who firmly refused to order it.
Nevertheless, this meal still cost over 150 francs, which especially pained Petit.
This grand meal lasted a full two hours, and the "Young Guard" drooled and watched through the glass for the entire two hours.
Lionel and his companions had grown accustomed to this "company," but the other restaurant guests had not.
They frequently called the waiters to drive away these Young Guards, as if they were annoying flies; some even went out to scold them personally.
The Young Guards dared not express their anger, because the guests dining at the "Café Anglais" were either wealthy or noble, their status far exceeding that of these young people.
In the afternoon, Lionel took Sophie and the others to a balloon launching point by the Seine, experiencing the sensation of floating in the air.
This was tough on the young cadets who followed; the "travel balloon" Lionel rented this time was planned to float to Fontainebleau and back, a two-hour journey.
Fearing they would lose their target, they had to rush their carriages, keeping an eye on the sky, following all the way; in the end, not only were their bottoms terribly sore, several also twisted their necks.
In the evening, Lionel chose the "La Tour d'Argent" restaurant for dinner, another bustling place with heavy traffic and crowds.
During dinner, Alice pointed at the tall, burly men and quietly asked Lionel,
"Isn't it embarrassing to be followed by them all day like this?"
Lionel shrugged:
"As long as we're not embarrassed, they'll be the ones who are!"
After dinner, they went to the Paris Opera to see "The Nutcracker," a classic performed by the Moscow Ballet Theatre, which had just been invited for a tour.
Tickets for this show cost 20 francs, which the followers certainly couldn't afford, so they had to wait outside—
This was the Opera House, the liveliest place in all of Paris.
By the end of the day, Lionel and his companions had enjoyed themselves thoroughly, while the "Young Guard" were more tired than dogs.
Upon returning to the Villeneuve villa, Lionel turned to the "sentinels" at the gate and said,
"Tomorrow I want to go to the Louvre, the Bois de Boulogne... You'd better be ready!"
The next day, newspapers published a follow-up report by a journalist:
"'Young Guard of the French Republic' Becomes 'Lionel Sorel's Guard'."
In the report, the journalist wrote with a sarcastic tone:
[It seems these fervent future soldiers, before serving France, have already practiced how to serve their superiors with Mr. Sorel!]
And Lionel did not "break his word," again taking Sophie and the others out to eat, drink, and have fun all day.
Especially when they went to the Bois de Boulogne, they all rode bicycles.
Sophie and Alice rode women's bicycles still in the development stage, while Petit rode a child's version specifically developed for her.
Many paths in the Bois de Boulogne were inaccessible by carriage, only by foot or bicycle.
So, the cadets tracking them today suffered even more than yesterday, having to chase bicycles on foot.
And the appearance of new bicycles excited the journalists, who all sketched them down in their notebooks.
————————
After two days of commotion, the morale of the "Young Guard of France" was somewhat low.
They could take turns tracking Lionel, but being watched like monkeys wherever they went was getting to them.
Many had begun to question the meaning of what they were doing.
Lionel, looking through the second-floor window, also noticed the change in atmosphere—at least tonight, the voices of those singing under his window were much quieter.
But he, too, was aching all over and exhausted; the high-intensity schedule was torture for anyone, especially since they mostly had to travel by carriage.
Sophie walked up to Lionel—she too was quite exhausted these past two days—and softly asked,
"Are we going to continue tomorrow?"
Lionel nodded:
"They're already feeling bored and getting tired. Tomorrow, you all go first, and they won't continue to follow and harass.
Tomorrow, tell the cook to leave for shopping and not come back until the situation stabilizes."
Sophie nervously clutched his arm:
"Lion, what about you?"
Lionel reassuringly patted her hand:
"Don't worry, I have my own way."
Just as he was about to rest, a brief commotion was heard downstairs; a carriage seemed to have approached and was negotiating with the "Young Guard."
Immediately, the carriage stopped at the door; soon, the villa's doorbell was rung.
The people inside were all startled; at this hour, who would be visiting?
Lionel motioned for the others to stay upstairs, walked down the stairs, and looked out through the peephole.
A person stood outside the courtyard gate, their figure somewhat blurry in the porch light, but Lionel recognized him instantly.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, then he opened the door, walked through the front yard, and stood before the visitor.
Standing outside was none other than Albert de Rohan, son of Count Edmond de Rohan and his good classmate.
Lionel quickly opened the door, surprised, and asked,
"Weren't you in Algeria? How did you come back to Paris?"
At this moment, Albert had completely shed his former frivolous air; his face showed signs of hardship, his skin was much darker, and he had grown a full beard.
As soon as he saw Lionel, he couldn't help but embrace him tightly, almost crying out,
"Lion, you've suffered!"
Then he whispered in Lionel's ear:
"You must leave quickly... they have a conspiracy!"
————————
On the same night, at 77 Avenue des Champs-Élysées, the Rohan mansion.
The agile Undersecretary sat leisurely in an armchair by the living room fireplace, sipping wine, with a hardcover book spread open on his lap.
A short while later, a young man, looking dusty from travel, walked in:
"Father."
It was his eldest son and first heir, Alfred de Rohan.
Count Rohan didn't even lift his head:
"How did it go?"
Alfred smiled:
"You were right, the Bonapartes have many talents, but he's a fool. With a little guidance, he's like a lit powder keg..."
Count Rohan glanced at the clock on the fireplace and asked,
"What about Albert? Has he arrived there?"
Alfred hesitated before answering:
"He should be in Paris today, but he hasn't returned. He might have gone directly to Villeneuve. Father, Albert... might he be in danger?"
Count Rohan shook his head:
"If he can't handle such a small situation, then his year in Algeria wasn't for nothing, was it?
He's not so foolish as to miss the hints in your letter. Don't worry, others will arrive then... it will be lively..."
Alfred hesitated, but still asked the doubt in his heart:
"Father, is what we are doing worth it? You are already an Undersecretary... From a rational perspective, we could entirely stand on the shore without having to get into the water..."
Count Rohan fell silent for a long time after hearing this question, then sighed:
"Sometimes what you 'do' isn't decided by your rationality—"
He pointed at the family crest on the wall with his finger:
"It's decided the moment you are born. Some obligations, you cannot resist, nor can you escape. Rationality can only help us know 'how to do' it, to ensure that when the flood comes, we are the ones sitting in the boat."
(End of Chapter)