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Chapter 293: A grain of sand in the storm

Two days later, January 7

In the evening, the calm Seine River flows westward slowly, and the silver mirror-like water surface reflects the orange-yellow sunset glow.

A few ravens that have not yet returned south were hovering on the roofs of the houses on both sides of the river, making a noisy chirping sound.

No. 28, Via Tiggas, by the river, the residence of Colonel Giovanni.

"Hey! Honey, come downstairs for dinner."

The colonel's wife placed a large pot of fragrant potato and beef stew on the dining table, took a satisfied taste of her superb cooking skills, and then called out softly:

"Today is your favorite goulash, Giovanni!"

However, there was no response from upstairs for a long time. It was not until my wife frowned that she heard a long and decadent cry:

"I won't eat, honey, hiccup...just leave me some white bread."

Listening to this thick nasal voice, the wife immediately realized that her husband was probably drunk again.

She cautiously went upstairs, opened the study door, and saw empty wine bottles all over the floor.

Even the air is filled with a faint smell of alcohol, which is the smell mixed with the stench of alcohol exhaled by drunk people.

Rum, champagne, brandy, gin...these empty bottles were so complete that they could run a tavern, and the drunken Colonel Giovanni poured them into the pile of bottles in a delirious state.

In the middle, there was an unopened bottle of Scotch whiskey in his hand.

"Oh my God! How much did you drink?!"

The wife was shocked and covered her mouth, and screamed reproachfully and distressedly:

"My dear, what's wrong with you? In the past two days, you've either been talking nonsense or drinking. You haven't even gone to the army. Oh my god, if this continues, I'm going to find a psychiatrist for you."

Colonel Giovanni muttered something incoherently, turned over and burped, but wanted to open the whiskey in his hand and stuff it into his mouth.

The wife couldn't stand it anymore, so she stepped forward and snatched the bottle from his hand, bit her lip lightly, then frowned and said:

"Giovanni, what's wrong with you? You've been like this since you came back the day before yesterday!"

In my wife's impression, it was the afternoon before yesterday when Colonel Giovanni returned home as if he was a changed person.

As soon as he got home, the brave and strong colonel commander couldn't stop crying loudly, and at the same time he kept repeating to his wife and son:

"I'm going to die, dear, little Jack, I'm going to die!"

After crying, Colonel Giovanni began to order his wife to do some unbelievable things like a lunatic. Sometimes he asked her to get him paper and pen to leave a suicide note, and sometimes he asked her to pack her belongings and prepare to leave Paris immediately.

Less than half a minute after issuing these instructions, he would withdraw them on his own:

"Forget it, what's the use of writing a suicide note now? There's no need to pack up your things. You can't escape whatever you run away from."

After saying these crazy things, Colonel Giovanni started drinking. Just like today, God knows how much wine he drank in the past two days. His wife only knew that the soju for winter stored at home was consumed by Giovanni on the first day.

Colonel Ni finished his drink.

At this time, Colonel Giovanni, who was drunk and unconscious, was lying on the ground, covering his forehead and sobbing, shaking his head and saying:

"No need to explain, dear, I don't want to involve you and the child."

"At least I need to know what happened to you, my dear," the wife said worriedly.

"What happened..." Colonel Giovanni was still sobbing, but there was still a self-deprecating smile on his lips:

"In the final analysis, I was too stupid. I was caught in a storm. I was like a fisherman driving a boat, plunged into the terrifying waves where the Norwegian Kraken and the Kraken were fighting."

The wife obviously had no feelings for these metaphors. She shook her head, squatted down and sighed:

"Stop talking nonsense, dear, go get something to eat..."

Just as his wife was about to help Colonel Giovanni get up, he suddenly heard two knocks on the door downstairs.

The wife was still stunned, wondering who would come to visit at this point.

But Colonel Giovanni was extremely sensitive to the knock on the door. He sat up all of a sudden and muttered to himself angrily:

"It must be the Duke of Aiguillon! He actually dares to send people to find me, damn it! I, I will shoot that damn beast!"

After saying that, Colonel Giovanni stood up unsteadily, rushed to the desk, opened the bottom drawer, and took out a well-maintained silver-plated pistol.

"Oh my God, Giovanni, don't be impulsive!" his wife shouted in shock:

"Maybe it's not the same person as last time. Maybe...it's just a friend of yours in the army? After all, you haven't been to the army in the past two days. It's normal for them to be worried."

"I don't have friends like that."

Colonel Giovanni muttered, inserted the pistol into his belt, and began to look for bullets and gunpowder.

"Hey! Honey, listen, I'm going to open the door and see who's here, okay? Put your gun away and don't do anything stupid."

After saying that, the wife hurried downstairs, came to the entrance hall, carefully opened the door to a slight gap, and looked out through the gap.

Standing outside the door was an old man with gray hair on his temples. He was waiting politely six feet away from the door, standing elegantly and firmly.

The clothes on his body are also quite decent. The black wool trench coat is solemn and elegant. On his head is a well-kept high-top round hat. In his right hand, he is holding a peach pine cane with a gold end, which seems to be customized.

shape.

In my wife's impression, with such an elegant and dignified temperament and dress, she is almost like a personal butler of a certain Duke.

Seeing the door open a small crack, the old man outside the door slowly took off his hat, bowed slightly with the support of his cane, and said hello:

"Good night, madam. Is Colonel Giovanni at home?"

This chapter is not finished yet, please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content! The wife hesitated and licked her lips and asked warily:

"Colonel... he is at home, but it may not be convenient to receive visitors at this time. Can you leave your name and contact address?"

"No, madam, please tell the colonel that I am from No. 10, Champs Elysées, and I hope to meet him."

"Champs Elysées...? Okay, I'll go ask him. Sorry, please wait here for a moment."

The wife closed the door in confusion, wondering where No. 10 on the Champs Elysées was.

She returned to the living room, only to find that the drunk Colonel Giovanni had rushed down with a pistol and shouted:

"Is it that bastard that day? Is he outside the door?!"

"No, it's not! Giovanni, put down the gun!" His wife quickly tried to dissuade him:

"I don't know who he is, I just said he came to see you, but he seems to be a gentleman."

Colonel Giovanni was stunned for a moment, like a deflated rubber ball. He sighed and put the pistol back into his belt, waving his hands as he walked upstairs:

"Let him go away, I don't want to see anyone."

"By the way, he said he was from No. 10, Champs Elysées," his wife reminded.

"Hmph, I won't see him even if he comes from Versailles...wait?"

Halfway through his words, Colonel Giovanni suddenly froze on the spot. He suddenly turned his head to look at his wife, and his eyes numbed by alcohol instantly became clear:

"You mean No. 10, Champs Elysées?! That's... Monsignor Bonaparte's residence... It's Monsignor Bonaparte's people?!"

Before his wife could react, Colonel Giovanni immediately rushed down the stairs. He didn't even have time to change his clothes, so he ran to the door in his pajamas and opened the door.

The old man outside the door looked at Colonel Giovanni's pajamas and the pistol stuck in his waist with some surprise, and couldn't help but greet him:

"Hello, Colonel...I'm sorry, did I disturb your rest?"

Colonel Giovanni swallowed hard. He recognized this old man as the butler of His Excellency Bonaparte's residence. He had met this old butler when he broke into the Corsican Embassy:

"No, no, sir, please come in quickly."

At this time, even the drunken Colonel Giovanni knew very well that since His Excellency Bonaparte sent someone to see him, it meant that he still had a chance of survival.

Otherwise, the person who knocked on his door would not be the old housekeeper, but the officials and executioners of the Paris High Court.

Thinking of this, he quickly and enthusiastically invited the old housekeeper into his home, as respectfully as he was serving a king.

The two of them sat face to face on a sofa next to the fireplace in the living room, and the wife thoughtfully brought scalding hot tea and placed it on the coffee table in front of them.

A blazing fire danced in the fireplace, stretching the shadows of the two people on the floor. The living room was very quiet, and the only sound that could be heard was the crackling of firewood.

"Sir, are you here under the entrustment of His Excellency Bonaparte?"

After brewing for a moment, Colonel Giovanni asked anxiously:

"I'm really sorry... I didn't mean to offend His Excellency Bonaparte, but the matter has come to this, and if that gentleman wants to punish me, I can only accept it willingly."

"Don't be so nervous, Colonel. Your Excellency Bonaparte is merciful and has not punished you."

The old butler slowly picked up the cup and saucer and took a sip of hot tea. Before Colonel Giovanni could be happy, he immediately said:

"But... you led people to destroy your property and injured your employees. These are all conclusive facts. Therefore, Your Excellency Bonaparte hopes that you can do something for him to make up for these losses. Bonaparte

Your Excellency has made a promise, and once things are done, you will no longer owe him anything."

"Doing business? Just ask, I swear, as long as it is within my power, I will go through fire and water for Monsignor Bonaparte!"

Before he knew what to do, Colonel Giovanni couldn't sit still, and he repeatedly beat his chest and made promises.

"very good."

The old housekeeper glanced at the colonel flatly, nodded, took out two envelopes from his arms, and placed them solemnly on the coffee table:

"If you are enlightened, please open the envelope on the left. That is what Your Excellency Bonaparte wants you to do. Only you and your Excellency know the content."

Colonel Giovanni knew that he had no other choice, so he gritted his teeth and picked up the envelope on the left to open it.

Inside was a letter written by Lawrence. The content of the letter was only five lines. Colonel Giovanni read it by the firelight of the fireplace.

However, as he read further, the colonel's eyes opened wider, until after he had read the entire letter, Colonel Giovanni was too shocked to say anything.

After a long while, he raised his head and stared at the old housekeeper, and said with great embarrassment:

"This...this, how is it possible, His Excellency Bonaparte actually wants to do such a thing?! And...doesn't this mean...that I will also be killed? How could His Majesty the King spare me?

?!"

The old housekeeper shook his head and said in a deep voice:

"Please do not mention the contents of the letter to me. I do not know and do not want to know what Monsieur Bonaparte asked you to do. Now, if you have memorized the contents of the letter, please throw it into the furnace."

Colonel Giovanni was stunned for a moment, and could only bite his lip, lowered his head and scanned the contents of the letter several times again. He quickly engraved these five lines of text in his mind, and then threw the letter into the fireplace nearby.

Staring blankly at the letter being reduced to ashes in the roaring flames, Colonel Giovanni held his forehead and said dejectedly:

"So Monsignor Bonaparte still didn't leave a way for me to survive...?"

"Ahem..."

The old housekeeper looked at the depressed colonel, gently pushed the second envelope in front of him, and said:

"No, this is your way to survive, Colonel."

Colonel Giovanni looked at the envelope, which was obviously much thicker, and opened it after hesitation.

There are three things stuffed inside:

A ticket from the United Shipping Company, destined for Ajaccio, Corsica; a piece of identification stamped with the official seal of the Corsican government, bearing the name of Grus Goodman, a common and typical

the name of a Corsican; the last was a bearer deposit slip from the Industrial Bank of Marseille, with a face value of fifty thousand livres.

"This is..." Colonel Giovanni looked at the thing in his hand and couldn't help but froze.

"Colonel, after completing your mission, His Excellency Bonaparte will buy you enough time. You will immediately leave Paris with your family and go to Ajaccio, Corsica."

The old housekeeper pointed to the three documents in turn and explained:

"After arriving in Ajaccio, you will be Grus Goodman. No matter how the king punishes you, all of Colonel Giovanni's crimes will have nothing to do with you. In the end, these fifty thousand livres should be enough for you.

Corsica lived the rest of her life in prosperity and stability."

Colonel Giovanni listened silently, lying limply on the sofa, his eyes unfocused, unable to say anything for a long time.

"I know that such a decision is difficult, Colonel, to give up all your current status and go to a foreign country far away." The old housekeeper sighed, his voice was very gentle:

"But, from the moment you intervened in the struggle between those big shots, this ending was doomed."

"Yeah..." Colonel Giovanni smiled bitterly, and finally accepted his fate calmly:

"I am just a grain of sand in the storm. Wherever the wind takes me, I must go. Please tell Monsieur Bonaparte...or Prime Minister, I, Gross Goodman, will not let me go."

He was disappointed."


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