The three of them sat down, their gazes fixed on him.
Lionel slowly began,
"Father, you've worked your whole life in the town hall, always cautious, always minding other people's moods. Don't you want to... truly be a 'master' for once?"
He saw his father's eyes blink.
Lionel's voice was full of temptation:
"With me, plus the power to control this money, you can become the one who truly calls the shots in Montiel.
The mayor? He'll come to fawn over you.
The priest? He'll respect you more than anyone.
We can build the best house in town, one with a garden and a stable. The stone walls of the house will be taller than a man, grand and secure.
From now on, everyone who sees you will respectfully call you 'Monsieur Joseph' or 'Monsieur Sorel'."
Joseph's eyes were momentarily lost in thought, as if he saw himself in a proper suit, revered by all.
Lionel then looked at his mother:
"Mother, don't you want to become a true 'Madame,' a 'lady'?
Wearing dresses made of the finest silk, golden rings on your fingers, never having to work again.
We can hire maids to clean the house, and a cook to prepare meals—you'll only need to sip afternoon tea and tend to the garden.
At home, you'll only need to give orders. You will become the most envied woman in Montiel."
His mother subconsciously touched her coarse dress, a glimmer of longing in her eyes.
Finally, Lionel looked at Ivana, who had kept her head down:
"Sister... I know that swindler hurt you deeply. But with money and status, everything will be different. You can marry splendidly.
Any decent young man you fancy in Montiel or Lalanne—a doctor, a lawyer, a wealthier farmer—will do.
Our family won't even need to provide a dowry; they will feel honored to be associated with our Sorel family."
Ivana looked up, a flicker of light in her eyes.
The air seemed to freeze until the kerosene lamp wick crackled once.
Joseph Sorel was the first to slowly shake his head:
"Lionel, thank you for wanting me to... have 'glory.' But, a 'master'? Let it be.
I'm old, my bones are stiff, I'm used to bending my back; if I suddenly straighten it, I won't know how to walk.
Those... powers, those grand displays, I can't handle them. Those people who flatter you today will curse you behind your back tomorrow.
I'm close to retirement; I just want to live out my old age in peace."
His mother spoke next, her tone gentle:
"Lionel, my good boy. Mother knows you're capable and thoughtful.
But... being served? How uncomfortable that would be! I've been busy all my life, washing clothes, cooking, cleaning the yard; I'm used to it.
If I were truly idle, doing nothing, I'm afraid these old bones of mine would fall apart."
Ivana bit her lip gently:
"Leo, thank you... but a man who marries me because of your money, your reputation...
He wouldn't be seeing me, Ivana Sorel, but rather you, Lionel Sorel, and those twenty thousand francs.
What's the point of such a marriage? There would be no respect, and certainly no love."
The heavy stone in Lionel's heart finally settled, and a huge sense of relief washed over him.
After the incident of being swindled out of 5,000 francs, his family seemed to have matured a great deal.
He let out a long sigh of relief, a relaxed smile on his face:
"Good, truly good. Father, Mother, Sister, I'm genuinely happy that you think this way."
At this, his father, Joseph, asked with some worry,
"What do you plan to do with those 20,000 francs? As you can see, many people in Montiel need help... Are you going to distribute the money among them?"
Lionel mused for a moment, then counter-asked,
"Are you familiar with old Pierre's situation? His house's roof..."
Joseph was startled:
"The roof... it did collapse under the snow last year, and we all helped him fix it.
There's still one corner left unfixed, in his second son's room, but he said the second son doesn't come back once a year, so they're saving some money for now..."
"What about Madame Madeleine? Her youngest son's illness?"
"That child has been coughing for almost a year; we can hear him when we pass their house."
"Jules, Jules owes old Dupont at the mill 200 francs?"
"Old Dupont is a bit hard-hearted... but whether it's 200 francs, I'll have to ask."
"Old Dupont said his mill needs 1,000 francs to replace an axle."
"Ha, 1,000 francs? He's mad! Even if you go to Gap to hire the best carpenter and use the best beech wood, it's 400 francs at most!"
...
The two exchanged a few more words, and Joseph fell silent.
Lionel sighed:
"Distribute it among them, giving them as much as they want?"
Joseph firmly shook his head:
"Of course not... Some people don't need that much money at all, or even any of it."
Lionel then asked,
"If that's the case, who will do this work of 'estimation' and 'distribution'? Can you do it?"
Joseph quickly waved his hands in alarm:
"Then the whole of Montiel would become our family's enemies!"
Lionel continued to ask,
"What if we let the mayor or the priest do it? No one would dare to hold a grudge against them."
Joseph smiled awkwardly, saying nothing, after all, he was still the town clerk.
Lionel didn't press, instead proposing a different plan:
"What about dividing it equally, Father? How about an equal share? Each family would get around 200 francs."
Joseph thought for a long while, then still shook his head:
"That won't work either. Some people don't need that much, while for others, 200 francs isn't enough...
Distributing it this way, most people still wouldn't be satisfied... In the end, they'd still resent our family."
Lionel nodded:
"So these 20,000 francs are truly a hot potato... unless... unless this 20,000 francs can be seen by more people...
Rest assured, I will handle this money in the best possible way, doing right by my friends in Paris, and also by Montiel."
...
That night, Lionel wrote furiously in his room until late.
----
Early the next morning, led by Mayor Bertrand and Father Peltier, a large crowd of Montiel villagers marched in full force to the city of Lalanne.
Lionel watched the crowd disappear into the distance, then quietly led his horse from the backyard, took a small path, and galloped towards Lalanne.
He had to quickly deal with the money while everyone's attention was drawn to the protest.
The Lalanne post office was indeed much quieter today; even the postmen had been reassigned to the city hall to maintain order.
Lionel easily found Director Nicolas Bodin.
Lionel went straight to the point:
"You don't need to prepare those twenty thousand francs in cash for me."
Director Bodin was startled:
"Ah? Monsieur Sorel, what are you..."
Lionel took out the address and letter he had already prepared:
"I want to make a remittance. All of this money, I want to remit to Gap, to the Rothschild family bank."
Gap was the capital of the Hautes-Alpes department, a considerable distance from Lalanne, and 20,000 francs there was not considered a "huge sum."
Director Bodin was surprised, but seeing the prominent surname on the remittance address, he dared not ask further and quickly complied.
The complicated remittance procedures were completed at the fastest speed with Lionel's urging and the director's cooperation.
Lionel also handed a letter he had written last night to the post office, requesting it be sent to the Rothschild estate in Naples as quickly as possible.
With all this done, Lionel felt considerably relieved.
He carefully put away the remittance receipt and letter receipt, then took out several more letters and handed them to Director Bodin:
"Send them all to Paris, with the fastest possible speed."
Afterward, he quietly returned to Montiel.
In the afternoon, the crowd that had gone to Lalanne to protest returned, their emotions complex.
They had received some verbal promises and reassurances; Mayor Martino had expressed "respect for the donor's wishes and Monsieur Sorel's decision."
Of course, he had not explicitly stated that he would give up his "guidance" over the use of the funds.
The protesters felt somewhat relieved, yet also a bit bewildered, unsure of what would happen next.
It was in this atmosphere that Lionel acted.
He asked his father, Joseph, to invite Mayor Bertrand, Father Peltier, and old Monsieur Renaud from Saint Joseph's School.
Then, they walked together to the small town square—where villagers concerned about the matter quickly gathered again.
Lionel stood on a slightly elevated stone, his gaze sweeping over the faces below, filled with doubt, anxiety, and anticipation.
Mayor Bertrand and Father Peltier stood beside him, their faces showing inquiry and barely perceptible tension, unsure what Lionel was about to announce.
Old Monsieur Renaud leaned on his cane, his eyes also full of confusion.
Lionel's voice was clear and calm:
"Fellow villagers, regarding those twenty thousand francs, I have made a decision."
The square instantly fell silent; everyone held their breath.
"I have entrusted this money to the Rothschild family bank in Gap for professional management."
As soon as he uttered these words, there was a stir below; most of the townspeople looked confused, as this was beyond their realm of understanding.
The mayor and the priest's faces, however, turned very grim.
Lionel ignored them, his voice still steady:
"It will not be divided up; 200 francs per family cannot solve long-term problems.
Nor will it be immediately used to build bridges, mend roads, or construct houses, as that might breed new injustice and corruption."
Someone below couldn't hold back and shouted out the question in their heart:
"Then... what will it be used for?"
Lionel took a deep breath, his voice slightly louder:
"This money will be established as a scholarship, a one-time bonus!"
The crowd was stunned.
Scholarship?
The word was completely unfamiliar to most townspeople.
Lionel patiently explained:
"The rules are simple—
From today onwards, any child from Montiel who completes primary school at Saint Joseph's School, and can later, based on their secondary school examination results rather than a letter of recommendation, be the first to be admitted to any of the four universities in Paris—
The Sorbonne, École Normale Supérieure, École Polytechnique, or Paris Medical School—
Will receive the entire 20,000 francs as a one-time payment!"
This news exploded like a bomb in the crowd!
(End of Chapter)
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