Writer 1879: Solitary Journey in France

Chapter 558 The situation is changing!

Raymond Lister, head bowed, replied, "It should be in the police station's detention room."

Then, sensing an opportunity to curry favor with the Queen, he stepped forward: "Your Majesty, perhaps... we should teach him a lesson? For example... an 'accident'..."

The Queen raised her eyes and stared at Lister: "'Accident'? Was it an 'accidental' fall, an 'accidental' illness, or an 'accidental' beating by a fellow inmate—what do you think public opinion will say?"

Raymond Lister was stunned, and then broke out in a cold sweat.

He suddenly realized that if these things really happened, public opinion would definitely not let the royal family off the hook.

Some might even say that "Queen Victoria, enraged, sent people to silence them."

The Queen's pardons are often seen as a performance, and her mercy is perceived as hypocrisy.

She will be stained with an indelible mark and will never be able to return to the center of politics as she wishes.

Parliament and the cabinet could accept a queen who starved a million Irish people to death—because they were practically complicit in the matter.

But they could not accept a queen who used underhanded means to kill a French writer—because it was the queen trying to divide the power in their hands.

Lionel Sorel, on the other hand, will become a martyr, a symbol of freedom and courage, and will be sung about for centuries.

In every story about him, there is a wicked British queen who appears as the villain.

Raymond Lister's legs began to go weak: "Your Majesty, I...I didn't mean that..."

Queen Victoria snorted and said, "So what do you mean? 'Teach him a lesson'? You've been with me for twenty years, and I thought you at least had some brains. Things are changing!"

"Your Majesty, please forgive me!" Raymond Lister knelt down with a thud. Not on one knee, but on both. His forehead also touched the carpet.

The Queen looked at her kneeling subjects, her eyes filled with weariness and disgust, not pity.

“Get up,” she said. “Go immediately to the police station and see Sir Chuck Warren. Tell him—in my name—that Scotland Yard must guarantee the absolute safety of Lionel Sorel.”

He wants a solitary cell that is clean and has basic comforts. His diet must be normal and free from abuse. If he becomes ill, a doctor must be called immediately. If he requests to see a lawyer, that must be permitted.

Raymond Lister scrambled to his feet: "Yes, Your Majesty!" He then backed out of the study and closed the door.

The Queen sat alone behind her desk, looking at the pile of broken porcelain on the floor, without ordering a servant to clean it up.

The firelight reflected off the fragments, making them glitter like countless mocking eyes.

And she closed her eyes.

It's all over. All the calculations, all the plans, were ruined by that Frenchman.

People will not remember "the Queen's mercy" now, but only "Sorel's courage".

And she, Victoria, Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Queen of India... became a supporting character in his play.

“Old lady…” she murmured the word again, with a completely different meaning than before.

"The old lady is watching you... Now, all of Europe is watching me."

She opened her eyes and looked at her portrait on the wall—not the new one in the courtroom, but the old one.

She was dressed in her coronation gown, with a crown and scepter, exuding majesty.

But no matter how majestic it is, it is still just a painting.

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

10 Downing Street, Cabinet Room.

Prime Minister Gladstone asked the same question: "Where is he being held now?"

"He was taken away by the police. He was arrested on the spot. He should be in Scotland Yard's detention room now."

“Arrest…” Gladstone quickly considered.

Home Secretary Harcourt was still in shock: "How did he get to London? What about customs? I clearly ordered that he be intercepted and telegraphed as soon as he was spotted! Why haven't we heard anything?"

Foreign Secretary Granville chuckled: "He was definitely smuggled in, and with a false identity. But anyway, he got in, and even infiltrated the courtroom. And we, and the Queen, have become a laughingstock."

“It’s not a joke,” Gladstone said suddenly.

Everyone looked at him.

The Prime Minister stood up and repeated, "It's not a joke, it's an opportunity!"

“Opportunity?” Harcourt couldn’t believe his ears. “We’ve become the laughingstock of all Europe, and you call that an opportunity?”

"Before, we were a joke, but now things are different. The Queen has pardoned the commoners, and Sorel has shown up. The nature of things has changed."

With Lionel and the pardon occurring simultaneously, public opinion is bound to be divided; in any case, the focus will no longer be on us.

Chancellor of the Exchequer Childs immediately understood: "So...we don't need to resign?"

“At least we don’t have to resign immediately.” Gladstone sat down and took a deep breath. “The situation is changing. We need to reassess.”

He looked at the Justice Secretary: “Send someone to The Times immediately to retract the previous report that ‘the Cabinet is considering a mass resignation.’ Say… say that the Cabinet is closely monitoring the progress of the case.”

Gladstone paused for a moment, then assigned a new task: "In addition, contact other newspapers to guide public opinion and focus the attention on Her Majesty the Queen and Sorel."

Harcourt nodded quickly: "I'll take care of it right away."

“And another thing,” Gladstone called after him, “you call Chuck Warren personally over to Scotland Yard. Tell him that Sorel’s safety must be guaranteed—food, lodging, and medical care, all to the highest standards.”

There can be no 'accidents'!

"Why?" Harcourt asked, puzzled. "Isn't he our enemy?"

“Not anymore. He must live, live healthily and safely, for our benefit. If he dies in custody, or even if he is only injured, then Her Majesty can…”

Harcourt shuddered. "I understand."

"Go quickly!" Harcourt rushed out the door.

The remaining few people sat in the conference room, speechless for a moment.

After a long silence, Childes whispered, "So...we were saved by a French writer?"

“No,” Gladstone shook his head. “That’s politics. There are no permanent friends or permanent enemies. Only permanent interests.”

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

Metropolitan Police, Detention Area.

Lionel's cell was small, but it was a private room with no other prisoners.

The walls were painted white, the floor was paved with stone slabs, and there was a small window with iron bars letting in a little sunlight.

The room also contained a bed, a table, and a chair, all simple and tidy, with thick bedding on the bed.

The door opened. A prison guard came in carrying a plate of food: hot soup, bread, a piece of roast chicken, and mashed potatoes.

“Your dinner, sir,” the prison guard said respectfully.

Lionel nodded. "Thank you."

The prison guard put down the plate and said, "The sheriff asked me to inform you that there are many people outside who want to see you. Please be prepared."

Lionel nodded, not surprised.

He had prepared everything by letter and telegram before arriving in London, but due to the pardon, many of his preparations seemed unnecessary.

Things are changing!

Lionel thought for a moment: "I'll have them come one by one after I finish lunch."

The prison guard nodded. "Yes, Mr. Sorel," and then left.

Half an hour later, Lionel met his first visitor in the suspect meeting room in Scotland.

A man in his fifties, wearing a custom-made coat from Savile Row, leaning on an exquisitely carved cane—

“Mr. Sorel. I am William Johnson, Mr. John Pierpont Morgan’s representative in London.”

Lionel stood up and shook hands with him: "Good afternoon, Mr. Johnson."

“Mr. Morgan was very concerned when he heard about your arrest. He asked me to tell you that if you need any help—a lawyer, bail, or anything else—please feel free to ask.”

Please believe that the Morgan family also wields considerable influence in Britain.

He then pulled an envelope from his pocket: "This is a handwritten letter from Mr. Morgan to you. He said to read it when you have time."

Lionel took the letter and put it in his breast pocket.

William Johnson exchanged a few more pleasantries and then left.

Next came the second, the Duke of Marlborough's steward. He brought a basket of fruit, some books, and a message from the Duke:

"His Excellency the Duke expressed his regret over your current situation, but asked you to trust in the impartiality of the British judiciary and the mercy of the Queen."

Regarding the sale of 'Sorel-Peugeot' products in the UK, everything is proceeding as normal; please do not worry.

The third is the editor-in-chief of London's Longman Publishing, who said that although 1984 was banned, other works, including Pirates of the Caribbean, sold as usual.

The royalties will be deposited into Lionel's London account on time, and his boss is actively working to get Lionel released as soon as possible.

Then the fourth, the fifth... each visitor was backed by a person who had a certain influence in London and even the whole of Britain.

They brought concern, promises, and respect... a flood of gifts of condolence overwhelmed the suspects' meeting room at Scotland Yard.

Before the afternoon was even over, there was almost no room to move in the meeting room.

It wasn't until nightfall that Lionel returned to his solitary detention cell and collapsed onto his bed, utterly exhausted.

The prison guard brought him dinner again, which was still plentiful, but he was too tired to have an appetite.

However, after the prison guard cautiously asked, "Is there anything else you need?" Lionel thought for a moment and then spoke:

"Get me a typewriter, I still have a serial to write!"

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

That evening, on the streets of London.

Newsboys waved newly printed evening papers and special editions, their shouts deafening:
"Breaking News! Breaking News! French Writer Appears in Court! Queen Grants Pardon to Civilians!"

"Sorel voluntarily surrendered! A dramatic scene unfolded in the courtroom!"

"Was the Queen merciful or conquered by courage? Different interpretations exist!"

Pedestrians bought newspapers and read them by the light of the gas streetlights.

The Times' front-page headline was "Her Majesty's Mercy and Wisdom," with the article focusing on praising the Queen's timely pardon and only briefly mentioning Lionel's appearance.

The Daily Telegraph was more direct: "Coincidence or scheme? Sorel and the pardon appear one after the other."

The article lists various possibilities and concludes by suggesting that "perhaps this was originally a tacit political performance by all parties."

The Manchester Guardian was even more blunt: "Courage triumphed over might."

The article portrays Lionel as a hero who sacrificed himself as an ordinary citizen, and describes the amnesty as "something that had to be done in the face of courage."

The title of "Voice of Labor" is only one line in large print, but it is the most powerful and moving: "He came for us!"

The excitement in London is just beginning.

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(End of this chapter)