Chapter 1132: Chapter 1121: Meeting
The message bearer for Mr. Garibaldi reluctantly left the hotel, despite Mr. Garibaldi’s persistent attempts to keep him. Mr. Garibaldi, ignoring his own exhaustion, hastily waved toward the few carriages on the street.
One carriage on the left side of the street noticed Mr. Garibaldi and promptly slowed down, approaching him at a steady pace.
Before Mr. Garibaldi could express his destination, the driver took the initiative to ask, "Sir, where are you heading?"
"Please take me to the nearest train ticketing point!" Mr. Garibaldi answered the driver, then opened the carriage door and got inside.
Once Mr. Garibaldi had fully closed the door, the carriage set off again.
Because Paris itself is a city with a population exceeding a million, to alleviate the pressures of ticket purchasing, Jerome Bonaparte specifically instructed the railway department to set up multiple ticketing outlets in Paris.
The nearest ticketing point to Mr. Garibaldi was less than half a Belgian league (an old unit, 1 league equals about 4 kilometers) away, and the driver quickly transported Mr. Garibaldi to the agency.
Mr. Garibaldi, just alighting from the carriage, pulled a silver coin worth one franc from his pocket, but as the driver was about to give change, Mr. Garibaldi generously said, "No need to return the change!"
"Thank you, generous sir!" the driver politely replied, then curiously asked, "However, why would a gentleman like you personally come to buy a train ticket?"
Mr. Garibaldi did not truthfully answer the driver’s inquiry; he shrugged and responded, "Because my servants and castle are not in Paris, all matters must be handled personally by me!"
"I see!"
Upon closer observation, the driver realized Mr. Garibaldi did not resemble a typical Frenchman but rather seemed like someone from southern France. (Some southern French are Italian), but due to Mr. Garibaldi’s authentic Parisian accent, the driver had initially judged incorrectly.
"Honestly, sir, without closer observation, you do truly resemble a Parisian!" the driver complimented Mr. Garibaldi.
"Thank you for your compliment!"
Mr. Garibaldi also smiled back at the driver, understanding that those residing in Paris inherently looked down upon people from other provinces, and provincials similarly maintained a sense of inferiority before Parisians.
This was why, whenever Paris underwent a regime change, provincials would always complain, "Paris has brought them a new government again."
Nonetheless, complain as they might, the outer province dared not oppose Paris’s will in action.
From the perspective of a "pure" Parisian, for an ordinary provincial to be lauded as "most like a Parisian" by locals was already considered an exceptional honor.
"May you have a wonderful holiday in Paris!" the driver sent out his blessings to Mr. Garibaldi, then winked at Mr. Garibaldi and said, "Believe me! Parisian travels will certainly be unforgettable for a lifetime!
If you ever feel lonely in Paris, be sure to visit near Vosges Square, where the ladies will offer tenderness unavailable outside Paris!"
Upon hearing the driver’s words, Mr. Garibaldi immediately understood what he was implying, feeling a touch of emotion within.
Unexpectedly, France’s economy had reached this point; he (Mr. Garibaldi) remembered a few years ago there had never been such phenomena at Vosges Square.
"Thank you very much!" Mr. Garibaldi graciously nodded to express his thanks to the driver without showing any emotion.
After the driver left, Mr. Garibaldi made his way straight into the railway station’s agency.
At this time, the ticket seller was resting his head on the counter, and seeing Mr. Garibaldi, he had no choice but to lightly knock twice on the counter.
The ticket seller finally sobered up, gazing drowsily at Mr. Garibaldi standing before the counter, speaking with a hint of impatience, "Yes?"
"Please issue me a ticket to Fontainebleau Town!" Mr. Garibaldi politely requested from the ticket seller, then added, "Preferably one departing immediately!"
Upon hearing Mr. Garibaldi’s request, the previously languid expression on the ticket seller’s face immediately became alert.
After all, tickets from Paris to Fontainebleau Town were particularly special, and anyone departing at this time was likely a member of the Empire’s officials or connected to the Imperial Family.
Regardless of who, he could not now afford to offend much.
"Let me check!"
The ticket seller’s tone became notably courteous, and his hands began rummaging through the drawer back and forth for tickets.
After carefully examining the remaining train tickets at the ticketing point, the ticket seller finally found the train from Paris to Fontainebleau Town.
"Sir, the next train departs at 8 o’clock tomorrow morning!" the ticket seller informed Mr. Garibaldi.
"Are today’s trains all gone?" Mr. Garibaldi asked disappointedly.
"Unfortunately!" the ticket seller shook his head in response to Mr. Garibaldi, "the train from Paris to Fontainebleau Town runs only twice a day.
Approximately 20 minutes ago, the last train already departed!"
"Alright then! I’ll take tomorrow’s train!" Mr. Garibaldi promptly told the ticket seller, then inquired about the train’s ticket price.
The ticket seller skillfully briefed Mr. Garibaldi on the price of tickets for different seats, and Mr. Garibaldi pulled out francs to purchase a top-tier ticket.
Upon receiving the 20 franc banknote, the ticket seller immediately handed the train ticket to Cavour.
After receiving the train ticket, Cavour left the train ticket office.
...
The next day.
Before the first ray of dawn broke through the haze over Paris, Cavour had already climbed out of bed early,
and after a quick wash, he lightly packed and took a carriage to leave the hotel.
By the time Cavour arrived at the train station, the sun had just begun to disperse the fog in Paris.
Standing on the platform, Cavour quietly waited for the train’s arrival. As time passed, more and more people gathered on the platform, the vast majority of them travelers heading north from Paris, each dressed in bright and shiny coats, easily recognizable as people of some means.
Soon, accompanied by a deafening whistle from afar, the train passing through Fontainebleau arrived at the station.
A ticket-checking attendant shouted for people to line up for ticket checking, and everyone obediently queued up to hand their train tickets to the attendant.
The attendant, upon receiving the tickets, didn’t even glance at them; after a quick glance at their attire, he allowed them to pass.
(In the 19th century, the train ticket anti-counterfeiting system was so crude that attendants could only make initial judgments based on the attire of the ticket holders.)
Five minutes later, all the travelers had boarded the train, and seeing the empty platform, the attendant also boarded the train.
A few minutes later, the steam locomotive emitted another whistle and then slowly left the Paris Railway Station along the tracks.
...
By the time Cavour got off the train, it was already 10 a.m. Just as he was about to find a hotel near Fontainebleau Town for a short rest, a familiar stranger appeared in front of him.
It was Beichu, Jerome Bonaparte’s Secretary General.
Since not many passengers disembarked at Fontainebleau Station, Beichu, waiting outside the station for Cavour, easily spotted him. He hurriedly ran up to Cavour and said, "Mr. Garibaldi, you’ve finally arrived!"
"And you are?" Cavour scrutinized Beichu, remembering he seemed familiar but couldn’t recall where they’d met.
"Mr. Garibaldi, I am here under His Majesty’s orders to welcome you!" Beichu explained his purpose to Cavour.
"His Majesty knew..." Cavour blurted out.
Soon, Cavour realized that it was hard to hide his actions from the monarch, who had control over Paris.
"His Majesty, although residing at the Fontainebleau Palace, sees all that happens in Paris!" Beichu echoed to Cavour.
Then, under Beichu’s guidance, the carriage carrying Cavour smoothly crossed Fontainebleau Town, then passed through the square in front of Fontainebleau Palace, arriving at the palace’s main entrance.
"Mr. Garibaldi, we have arrived!" Beichu got up, opened the carriage door, and said to Cavour.
As Cavour stepped down from the carriage, he looked at the imposing snow-covered buildings before him, feeling an invisible pressure.
The monarch residing in these grand buildings would decide the future fate of the Italian Peninsula!
"Mr. Garibaldi, let’s hurry!"
Beichu’s voice sounded again in Cavour’s ears, and he quickened his pace to follow Beichu into the palace.
As Cavour and Beichu ventured deeper into the palace, Cavour’s mood grew heavier.
Ultimately, Cavour, carrying the fate of the Italian Peninsula, met Jerome Bonaparte in the reception hall.
Upon meeting, Cavour immediately bowed to Jerome Bonaparte and said, "Your Majesty!"
Jerome Bonaparte showed no displeasure on his face and warmly welcomed Cavour with a smile.
"Mr. Garibaldi, you have finally arrived!"
Subsequently, Cavour engaged in a lengthy conversation with Jerome Bonaparte.
During their exchange, Cavour cautiously probed Jerome Bonaparte’s attitude towards the Sardinian Kingdom aligning with the Kingdom of Britain.
Though Cavour repeatedly emphasized that the Sardinian Kingdom’s closeness to the Kingdom of Britain was an act of necessity, he understood that even he could barely convince himself of this justification, let alone Jerome Bonaparte.
Fortunately, Cavour had one crucial bargaining chip—Sardinia Island.
Cavour believed as long as the Emperor of France remained as greedy as before, there would be no worry about not gaining his approval.
