Nineteenth Century Medical Guide

Chapter 482, Section 478: Mounted Police and Robbers

At the end of 68, Cavill met Hugo, having been invited by him.

The person who invited him was not Hugo himself, but Countess Justine, the daughter of Marshal McMahon, who had undergone radical mastectomy for breast cancer with Cavé.

In her youth, she was one of many girlfriends who admired Victor Hugo's literary talent. The two developed feelings for each other through literature, and even though he was a few years older than her father, she still fell hopelessly in love with this great writer.

Their relationship quickly blossomed, but abruptly ended after a full 198 days. Both found new partners and broke up amicably, leaving each other with beautiful memories.

Kavi wasn't interested in the subtle emotional relationship between them; he accepted the invitation partly out of respect for the Countess, and partly because of Victor Hugo's reputation.

So not long after his trip to Egypt, he went to Guernsey.

A small island adrift in the English Channel, outside of Britain.

After being exiled, Hugo went to Belgium, and then eventually to mainland England. Later, due to a change in diplomatic strategy towards France, even Britain could not tolerate him, and he could only live on a few small British islands.

Guernsey is one of them, and I've lived there for over a decade.

Hugo harbored a deep hatred for Nathaniel Nathaniel and the Second Empire, and Marshal McMahon, who had wholeheartedly assisted Nathaniel Nathaniel, was no exception and was on his blacklist. He constantly felt the urge to write scathing critiques of them. When he learned from the newspapers that Calvi had easily cured Nathaniel ...

He couldn't say he hated the doctor; he always respected him, but he certainly didn't like him. After the surgery, the once-dead Nathan became energetic and seemed poised to live for many more years, allowing the empire to continue.

The thought of having Calvi, who had just undergone surgery on Nathan, perform surgery on him again made Hugo feel nauseous.

But even heroes can't resist the charms of a beautiful woman, and after so many years, he still harbors feelings for Justine, who is caught in the vortex of politics.

This affection led Kavi to knock on Hugo's door with the Countess's invitation.

Strictly speaking, what was delivered to Kavi was a package; the letter was only part of it, and the other part was a novel written by Victor Hugo.

Upon seeing the letter, Hugo felt relieved, and his last remaining concern was put to rest.

Once a person convinces themselves, the shift in their mindset is truly magical.

If Nathan can live well and keep the empire running, why can't he live well and wait for the empire to perish? Nathan isn't much younger than him, and carrying such a heavy burden of the empire, he could very well die before him.

As Justine said, Hugo and Nathan suffered from almost the same ailments: back pain and urinary tract stones. Their attitudes toward these illnesses were also remarkably similar: they avoided treatment if possible, simply taking painkillers when the pain struck, letting nature take its course.

Kavi stayed on Guernsey Island for half a month, helping the great writer completely cure his hidden ailment.

He didn't stay idle during this time either, chatting extensively with Hugo about everything from literature and art to medicine, humanities, and politics. If it weren't for the title of "Nassan's personal surgeon" imposed on Cavé by outsiders, Hugo would certainly have liked him even more.

Before leaving, Kavi wrote a simple health booklet and gave it to him, and Hugo reciprocated by giving him two books.

One of the books was *The Man Who Laughs*, which Kavi had read before his time travel, but it hadn't been officially published in 68. The copy he received was an original manuscript written by Hugo himself, making it quite precious. The other book was his travelogue, which recorded his observations and impromptu sketches during his exile in various parts of Europe.

It was this travelogue that brought him here.

In Hugo's eyes, who had wandered for over a decade, the Spanish bandits were nothing to worry about. He mentioned them lightly in his essays, his words filled with the composure of an observer.

But in Kavi's eyes, the desolate mountain road, though not as desolate as a battlefield, was still full of uncertainty.

The border guards' accents sounded strange, but they weren't lying; two mounted policemen did indeed arrive from the south half an hour later.

He was very young, looking to be in his early twenties, with a rough but energetic face and well-defined features. His skin was tanned dark, like that of a sailor who had just sailed a long voyage, clearly someone accustomed to long journeys under the southern sun.

The other one had graying hair, looked to be in his fifties, and was tall and much wider than the younger one.

He wore an officer's uniform and soldier's trousers, and spoke with impeccable manners, exuding a certain aristocratic air. But if you ignored that and only looked at his lion-sized head, it was impossible to compare him to those old men who spent their days in theaters and art galleries.

Both men carried obsolete muskets, had ammunition pouches and swords at their waists, and wore common tarpaulin hats embroidered with the Spanish words: "Uria Mounted Police."
The young mounted policeman was initially yelling at Kavi and his men to get lost and stop bothering them. But when he saw the francs handed to him by the border guards, he realized they had been given a job.

The veteran mounted policeman, having accepted the money, urged them to set off immediately, as traveling at night would only be more dangerous. Of course, returning to San Sebastián as soon as possible to report back was also a major reason; according to him, the robbers should all be taking a nap at this time.

Having entered someone else's territory, they didn't have many options. Kavi and his men hurriedly left the border behind the two men and headed southwest.

The mountain road here is a main road, wide and flat, easier to travel than the section in southern France. However, it is flanked by dense forests, dark even under the bright sun, and there is no sign of human life. Occasionally, you can see a few small villages in the distance, most of which have been reduced to ruins due to the civil war.

"How did you come to Spain?" the young mounted policeman couldn't hold back his question.

"We've come here."

Beggett was about to speak when Casper stopped him: "Just sightseeing, it's a good place to spend the winter, it's too cold up north."

"Tourists, you're really brave; very few people choose this route."

The young mounted policeman pointed indifferently at several horse-drawn carriages lying haphazardly by the roadside: "Whether they're hauling goods, delivering packages, or giving people a ride, no matter what they do, they'll all be killed if they encounter robbers. Their horses, goods, money—everything will be stolen, leaving only an empty shell."

"If we had known it would turn out like this, we wouldn't have come."

Casper turned to look at the unfortunate Cavill and said a few more words to him: "Look how exciting the classic tourist route you chose is. When we get to San Sebastián, we should switch to the train."

"Huh? There are bandits in big cities too?"

Before Kavi could continue, Berget, who was standing next to him, laughed and joked, "Is Madrid also full of bandits?"

"You are all overthinking this. With the new emperor's ascension to the throne, the capital will certainly be safe. San Sebastián is a major coastal city and an important port, so basic security can be guaranteed."

The old mounted policeman pulled on the reins, slowed down, and came up to Kavi and Bergett. He continued to explain, "Those bandits are all show and no substance. They don't dare get close to big towns. The moment their feet touch the ground, one of our men will appear."

After saying that, he gave the young man walking in front a meaningful look: "As for these things, they all happened a few days ago. Today is very peaceful. We just came from the south and didn't encounter any bandits."

"How long will it take us?" "At our current speed, six or seven hours, or five hours if we go faster." The old mounted policeman, smoking a cigarette, pointed to a place he didn't know how much longer it would take to reach. "We'll definitely get there before dark."

Upon hearing this, the young mounted policeman spurred his horse forward a few steps to stand beside Jonah, who was at the front. He occasionally looked up at the sky: "I'm just worried about the weather. If it rains, the mountain roads won't be so easy to travel."

"Rain?" Casper looked up, wiping the fine sweat from his forehead. "It's sunny here, how can it rain?"

"The weather in the mountains can change in an instant; it's unpredictable."

The veteran mounted policeman was also taken aback, but quickly recovered: "He's lived here since he was a child, so he must be right."

“Oh?” Casper looked at him and suddenly asked, “I thought you knew more about the weather here.”

“I’ve only been here a short time, but he’s different.”

Sometime during the day, the afternoon clouds began to gather, hiding the sun. Then came the mountain breeze, which was initially quite refreshing, but gradually they began to realize that it was no longer July or August in Paris, but late autumn.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, a torrential downpour forced a change of plans.

Having traveled more than halfway, turning back was impossible, and continuing to San Sebastián in the heavy rain was unsafe. Luckily, there was a dilapidated village nestled in the mountains, and coincidentally, an empty inn where we could rest.

The guesthouse was probably converted from an ordinary residential house; it only had two floors and was quite small. The walls were unpainted, and a wooden cross stood on the roof, the top section of which was broken off, the cut end being dark and unsightly.

“The Royal Palace Hotel.” Bergett’s mind conjured up the image of the Hofburg Palace. “Who came up with that name?”

"It's good enough if there's an inn by the mountain road; compared to the muddy ground, it's practically a palace."

The old mounted policeman kicked open the door, and a musty smell immediately filled the room: "You've come from the north, you're used to a comfortable life, aren't you? This is a poor, remote place, you're lucky to find a room and a bed, just make do for the night."

"It's alright, we stayed at a similar inn last night."

Bergett followed him inside, took off his soaking wet coat, couldn't help but sneeze, and hurried to the fireplace: "Jonah, get some dry wood and start a fire quickly."

"it is good."

The group had a clear division of labor: first, they dried the clothes, and then they boiled a pot of hot soup to warm themselves up.

Kavi remained mostly silent, riding at the back of the group and listening attentively to their casual conversation. Upon entering the inn, he followed the usual routine of changing clothes and airing out his boots, making sure he was clean and tidy.

Only Casper ignored the wet rain and went straight to the second floor as soon as he entered.

The inn's layout was similar to the ones I'd stayed at before, and the upstairs rooms were covered in dust. The white curtains had yellowed with age, the brass furniture on the cabinets was covered in verdigris, and the ink bottles could only produce black mud.
"what happened?"

Hearing voices, Bergett turned around sharply and saw the old mounted policeman leaning against the door, smoking his pipe. "Oh, my back is bothering me. I wanted to check if the mattress was firm enough. The one in Saint-Jean-Drüz last night was too soft and I had to lie on the floor all night."

"Hurry up and take off your clothes, go downstairs and warm yourself by the fire." The old mounted policeman exhaled a puff of smoke, turned around and went downstairs. "If you catch a cold, you won't be able to enjoy the rest of your journey."

"Thank you."

The inn had been abandoned for a long time, and the kitchen only contained spoiled milk that had been sitting there for who knows how long and sprouted potatoes. Fortunately, thanks to the tarpaulin that provided shelter from the rain, Kavi and his companions still had their rations. They managed to get by with some hard bread and dried meat, along with hot soup sprinkled with salt and pepper.

“The upstairs window is drafty. I just tried it out, and it’s too cold without a thick blanket. It would be more comfortable to bring the mattress down and sleep around the fireplace. Of course,” the old mounted policeman looked at Casper, “if anyone doesn’t want to sleep on the mattress, they can sleep on the floor next to it.”

I have no problem with eating or sleeping, the only thing I'm bothered by is what happens after I fall asleep.

"Just in case, someone should keep watch outside at night."

Kasper picked up a soup bowl to use as an inn, and a few small ornaments to represent the surrounding houses, trees and well. He was about to continue speaking when the old mounted policeman interrupted him: "You don't need to worry about that. We'll take care of everything after we've received your money."

"That's so embarrassing."

"In business, reputation comes first." The veteran mounted policeman tied his long hair tightly. "We may be greedy, but we still understand this."

"Aren't you going to sleep tonight?"

“Someone has to keep watch.” He pointed to his partner. “I’ll take the first half of the night, and he’ll take the second half. We’ll set off as early as possible tomorrow morning, as long as the rain isn’t too heavy.”

"Why don't we send someone too, so we can look out for each other?"

"No need, we can handle it." The old mounted policeman took a puff of his cigarette. "To put it bluntly, even if you were to help, you'd be making things worse. Besides, nobody likes riding horses around in the mountains in this kind of weather."

Having said all that, Kavi and the others had nothing more to say and obediently moved off their mattresses to sleep and replenish their energy.

After almost a day and getting caught in the rain, the four of them drank their last bowl of hot soup, and then snores began to rise in the inn.

The old mounted policeman sat outside the door, shaking his head with a smile, and muttered to himself in Spanish in a low voice: "There are one or two who are quite clever, but in the end they are just a group of ordinary people. This is not the glittering Paris or Vienna, this is the land of Spanish smuggling and robbery."

“I think we should just forget about it.” The young mounted policeman suddenly opened the gate, slipped through the crack, and then closed it again. “They gave us so much money, it’s enough for us to live it up for a while.”

"You still think you have too much money? You deserve to be poor your whole life!" The old mounted policeman looked at him disdainfully and blew smoke in his face. "I don't want to do this anymore. Wouldn't it be better to take the money and go home to enjoy life?"

"When we get to San Sebastián, they might even give us money as a reward."

"Have you become addicted to begging? Wouldn't it be easier to just snatch her away? Don't you want to marry Sofia anymore?"

The young mounted policeman hesitated: "Of course I want to, but..."

"No buts, you're still young, you have a long way to go. You don't naively think you can marry the bullring owner's daughter with just this little bit of money from patrolling, do you?"

The old mounted policeman took off his pipe and gently drew his sword from his waist: "These four are big fish, rare finds. Let's take care of them while the drug is still active."