The carriage that arrived was a magnificent four-wheeled carriage with a family crest on its body.
This was an extremely unusual sight in this working-class neighborhood.
The few remaining patrons in the tavern, and Lionel and old Jimmy, who were about to leave, all looked towards the door in surprise.
The carriage door opened, and a rather corpulent figure jumped out.
He was dressed in a decent wool overcoat and a bowler hat, and he was none other than Dr. Norman Macleod, editor-in-chief of "Good Words" magazine.
He stood on the dirty street, first casting a disgusted glance at the leather shoes on his feet, then looking up at the humble sign of "The Bent Pickaxe".
A look of "I finally found you" complaint and relief appeared on his face.
He pushed open the tavern door and immediately saw Lionel sitting in the corner:
"My God! Lion, you certainly know how to find a quiet place!"
Norman Macleod strode over:
"You arrived in London and only wrote to tell me today! I almost went crazy! The roads here are too narrow, and the streetlights are as dim as if they aren't lit at all..."
Lionel looked at the travel-worn Norman, a relaxed smile appearing on his face.
He stood up and began to clear the scattered stationery and the pile of copper pennies from the table.
Then, he turned to the still somewhat dazed old Jimmy, pushing all the copper coins on the table towards him.
"Mr. Jimmy, thank you for your care these past few days. Please give this money to the family of 'Old Smoker' Jim!"
Old Jimmy looked at the pile of copper coins, then at Lionel, and then at the magnificent carriage at the door and the distinguished Norman Macleod—
He opened his mouth, and with deep shock, said:
"James, I knew... I knew you weren't an ordinary person..."
Lionel smiled and nodded at him, then followed Norman Macleod, who was still muttering complaints about the road conditions and lighting, out of "The Bent Pickaxe" bar.
The carriage door closed and it quickly drove away from the dim street, merging into the London night.
Old Jimmy stood at the bar door, watching the carriage disappear, not moving for a long time.
Only the heavy copper coins in his hand reminded him that what had happened in the past few days was real.
————————
The carriage rocked gently with the bumps in the road, and the halo of the kerosene lamp swayed with it, making the interior flicker between light and dark.
Norman Macleod pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his forehead:
"God bless, you're finally safe, Lionel! Do you know that because of you, Paris is almost a 'ruin'? An unprecedented earthquake of public opinion!"
Lionel leaned back in his seat, motioning with his eyes for Norman Macleod to continue.
"Almost all newspapers, regardless of their original affiliation, stood together this time—of course, with completely different stances."
Norman Macleod spoke quickly:
"Le Figaro and The Times went all out, fiercely criticizing Villeneuve's 'atrocities'. They accused the Jules Ferry cabinet of condoning or even inciting violence, staining the spirit of republican rule of law, saying it was 'setting France back a hundred years'!
L'Intransigeant and Le Cri du Peuple directly called the 'Jeunes Gardes' 'Ferry's hyenas', saying it was a premeditated political persecution!"
He took a breath and continued:
"Le Gaulois and La France were surprisingly consistent in their stance; they also condemned the 'atrocities'. But they hinted that it was a self-staged ploy by Clemenceau to bring down Prime Minister Ferry, with the aim of undermining France's stability and colonial achievements."
Lionel gave a soft "humph" and asked,
"What about Jules Ferry? What was his reaction?"
Norman Macleod pouted:
"Him? In the name of 'restoring order and defending republican laws', he purged the Ministry of Interior and the Ministry of Education!
The local police chief of Villeneuve was immediately dismissed, and several local school inspectors were transferred to the countryside. He portrayed himself as a hero who quelled the riots and maintained stability—a brilliant move!"
Norman Macleod remembered something and said with some regret:
"The charges against you haven't been dropped. It's said that Ferry himself might have made some efforts. But although he wanted to quell the matter, the courts, especially the Palais de Justice in Paris, were very firm. That's all I could gather from the newspapers!"
Norman Macleod suddenly became excited:
"Oh, right, Leon, you've achieved an accomplishment!"
Lionel: "Hmm?"
Norman Macleod counted on his fingers:
"Chateaubriand, Louis-Philippe, Hugo, Louise Michel, Clemenceau... Which important French figure hasn't sought refuge in our Britain when in trouble? You're an important figure now, Lion!"
Lionel: "..."
Norman Macleod asked again:
"Do you need me to inform your family by telegram?"
Lionel shook his head:
"No need, I've already informed them."
He had sent telegrams from Calais to Paris, and the list of recipients was long, including Sophie and others, as well as notary Delaroyère, Zola, Maupassant... He even remembered to send a short verbal message to Madame de Rothschild.
Seeing that he wasn't concerned about the lawsuit, Norman Macleod quickly changed the subject:
"Alright, let's put those annoying French matters aside for now. Lion, I have to tell you, 'The Sign of the Four' is about to finish serialization! My God, you don't know how popular Sherlock Holmes is right now!
The magazine's sales have increased by another 20% because of this story! Letters from readers are piled high in my office, all asking when the next story will begin. You can't make them wait too long!"
He looked at Lionel eagerly, as if he were looking at a walking gold mine:
"'The Sign of the Four' will end in two more issues, we need new stories!"
Lionel didn't respond immediately, instead turning his gaze to the fleeting London streetscape outside the window, those dim alleys, hurried pedestrians...
The faces in "The Bent Pickaxe" pub also flashed through his mind one by one.
Lionel slowly spoke:
"Of course I'll write a new Sherlock Holmes story. But before that, Norman, I want to write a short story first—a short story about London."
Norman Macleod was taken aback, a look of surprise flashing across his face.
At the peak of Holmes's popularity, he wasn't going to continue the miracle, but instead write an unrelated short story?
Norman Macleod frowned slightly:
"Short story?"
But soon, he adjusted his expression and waved his hand:
"Of course! No problem! No matter what you write, 'Good Words' will accept it all! The front page spot is reserved for you! Royalties will be paid at the highest standard!"
He paused, but still couldn't help but add:
"But this short story, it won't be another, uh, critique of colonial policy, will it?"
The uproar and controversy caused by "The Sign of the Four", while bringing sales, also put him under considerable pressure from conservative circles.
According to his understanding of French writers' temperament, they would never give up because of judicial or public opinion pressure, and would even become more determined.
Lionel looked at Norman, a faint smile appearing on his face:
"Don't worry, it's unrelated to colonial policy. It's almost... almost a fairy tale."
Norman Macleod breathed a sigh of relief, wisely not pressing further.
A silence fell in the carriage, with only their faint breaths intermingling.
(End of chapter)