Lionel's horse's hooves clip-clopped on his way home, like stones dropped into boiling water, instantly attracting everyone's attention.
"He's here! Lionel is back!" someone shouted.
The crowd, like a startled swarm of bees, buzzed and gathered, instantly surrounding Lionel and his horse.
Countless hands reached out to him, countless mouths opened and closed simultaneously, various voices mixing together, assaulting his eardrums.
Old Pierre, a neighbor, squeezed to the front, his tone both intimate and urgent:
"Lionel! Sorell's good boy! I watched you grow up! I even held you when you were little!
My roof... a corner of it collapsed under the snow last winter, and I haven't had money to fix it... Autumn is almost here again... I only need... only a hundred francs for some wood and tiles!"
Widow Madeleine was almost on her knees, sobbing uncontrollably:
"Young Master Sorell... please, have pity! My youngest son... he's been ill for a long time, coughing terribly.
The doctor said we need to go to Gap to see a specialist and buy a very expensive medicine... I really... I really have no other way!
I beg you, fifty francs, no, thirty francs will do! I'll work like an ox or horse for you..."
Jules, a childhood playmate, squeezed next to his stirrup, his face wearing a fawning and humble smile:
"Leo, it's me, Jules! Remember when we used to catch fish in the stream?
Sigh, times are hard now...
I owe the miller money, and with compound interest, I'm almost unable to pay it back...
He said if I don't pay soon, he'll take my poor vineyard...
That's my family's only hope for survival! Help me, just two hundred francs, and I can get through this!"
Before he finished speaking, the chubby miller Dupont interjected:
"Don't listen to Jules's nonsense, my interest rates are the lowest— Young Master Sorell, my old mill's waterwheel bearing is completely ruined!
To replace the new bearing and drive shaft, it'll cost at least a thousand francs!
The mill being shut for even one day means I lose money, and the whole town will have trouble grinding wheat!
Think about it, this is a major issue concerning the entire town's food supply! Please, help me out with some funds?"
"Young Master Sorell..."
A young girl in a plain dress squeezed out of the crowd.
Her cheeks were flushed with shyness, her voice as faint as a mosquito's hum:
"I... I want to go to Grenoble for a sewing training course... Just for a few days, fifty francs for tuition and travel expenses would be enough.
If I learn, I can open a small tailor shop in town to supplement the family income... Please, I'll pay you back as soon as possible!"
But her voice was quickly drowned out by others—
"My plow is broken!"
"My family's taxes are still far from paid..."
"Please help me gather a dowry for my daughter, otherwise she'll have to go to the city as a maid..."
"Have pity..."
The clamor grew louder and louder.
Everyone had their own reasons, all seemingly compelling and urgent: sick family members, failing businesses, small dreams, necessities for survival...
Lionel sat on his horse, feeling like a piece of meat bait thrown into a hungry school of fish.
Just then, Monsieur Bertrand, the mayor, asserted his authority.
He puffed out his chest, trying to project official dignity:
"Quiet! Everyone quiet! What kind of behavior is this! What an unseemly gathering! Lionel has just returned, tired from his journey, let him catch his breath!"
Father Peltier also stepped forward opportunely, made the sign of the cross, and spoke with solemnity:
"My children, the Lord teaches us to endure, and to persevere. Is such clamor and squabbling truly befitting of Montiel's honest folk? Disperse, disperse a little, let Lionel go inside first."
Under the mayor and priest's half-persuasion, half-coercion, the crowd temporarily opened a gap but did not move far, still gathered outside the fence, their eyes intently fixed on Lionel.
Lionel took the opportunity to dismount and, "escorted" by the mayor and priest, quickly walked into his house.
His mother and Yvanna immediately closed the door, temporarily shutting out the countless gazes.
But the atmosphere inside the house did not ease.
Mayor Bertrand wiped the sweat from his forehead, immediately adopting a worried expression:
"Lionel, you see, this is the situation! The villagers are suffering! This money... must be carefully planned and used where it is most desperately needed!
Repairing roads, fixing the school roof, reducing taxes for the most impoverished families... I am the mayor, I know the situation best! I can guarantee that every franc will be spent wisely!"
Father Peltier nodded slightly, his tone more soothing:
"Lionel, my child. Wealth comes from God, and it should be used to serve God, to nourish the souls and bodies of believers.
Such a sum, if it could be used to repair the church—our sanctuary has indeed not been repaired for many years; or to establish a charity fund managed by the church, to help the most devout and most in need among the people...
This would surely better manifest the glory of God and allow this benevolence to receive eternal blessings."
Lionel sneered inwardly, but on his face, he wore an expression of frankness and helplessness.
Before his parents, sister, the mayor, and the priest, he opened his leather satchel and showed it to all of them.
Aside from a few pages of manuscript paper, a quill pen, a portable inkwell, and a coin purse, there was nothing else.
Lionel spread his hands:
"That was twenty thousand francs, a huge sum! How could I possibly carry it back with me?"
Everyone was stunned.
Mayor Bertrand asked urgently:
"Then... where is the money?"
Lionel sighed:
"It's still at the Laragne post office. Just as I arrived at the post office, I ran into Monsieur Martino, the mayor of Laragne... Oh, and Director Charvet of the 'Laragne Valley Savings and Mutual Aid Bank.'"
Hearing these two names, Mayor Bertrand's and Father Peltier's faces immediately darkened.
Lionel chose his words carefully:
"Mayor Martino was very... enthusiastic, he said, although this money was donated to the 'Montiel region.'
But Montiel falls under the jurisdiction of Laragne, so it needs to be considered from an overall perspective..."
Mayor Bertrand's breathing became heavy:
"He wants to meddle with Montiel's money!"
Lionel added:
"Director Charvet, on the other hand, suggested that the money wasn't safe at the post office and should be deposited into their bank.
They could offer generous interest and also help invest, to make the money grow."
Father Peltier's lips curled:
"Bank? Interest? Investment? Hmph, sounds high-sounding and righteous! It's nothing more than wanting to turn God's grace into capital for their exploitation and profit!"
Lionel showed an exasperated expression:
"You see, this is why I have such a headache. This money was clearly designated by 'Paris friends' for our Montiel, but now..."
Before he finished speaking, Mayor Bertrand and Father Peltier were infuriated, their anger entirely turning towards those "outsiders" from Laragne.
They rushed out the door, adding fuel to the fire with Lionel's relayed words, and told the Montiel townspeople gathered outside.
Anger instantly replaced supplication.
"What? Laragne wants to steal our money?"
"That was donated by the gentlemen in Paris specifically for us Montiel!"
"Martino that scoundrel! I knew he had ill intentions!"
"And those bloodsucking bankers!"
"We can't let them succeed!"
"Absolutely not!"
"Let's go confront them!"
"Tomorrow we'll go to Laragne! Go reason with the mayor!"
"Yes! Let's go together! Let them know that we Montiel people are not to be trifled with!"
The mayor seized the opportunity to fan the flames:
"Good! Tomorrow morning, we will all go to Laragne City Hall!"
Father Peltier also nodded solemnly:
"The Lord will bless the side of justice!"
The crowd gradually dispersed after that, and the Sorell household finally returned to a temporary calm.
Dinner was unusually silent, the flickering light of the kerosene lamp illuminating the complex expressions on the family members' faces.
After eating, Mother and Yvanna cleared the dishes.
Lionel called out to his father, who was about to go for a smoke.
His expression became incredibly serious:
"Father, Mother, Sister, we need to talk. About those twenty thousand francs, about... our family's future."
All three of their gazes immediately fell upon Lionel.
(End of Chapter)
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