All three sat down, their gazes fixed on him.
Lionel spoke slowly, "Father, you've worked your whole life at the town hall, always cautious, always reading people's expressions.
Don't you want to… truly be a 'Master' for once?"
He saw his father's eyes blink.
Lionel's voice was tempting: "With me, and the power to control this money, you can become the one who truly calls the shots in Montiel.
The Mayor? He'll come to curry favor with you. The Father? He'll respect you more than anyone. We can build the best house in town, one with a garden and stables.
The stone wall around the house will be taller than a man, grand and secure.
From now on, everyone who sees you will respectfully call you 'Master Joseph' or 'Mr. Sorel'."
Joseph's eyes momentarily blurred, as if he saw himself in a fine suit, revered by all.
Lionel then looked at his mother: "Mother, don't you want to become a true 'Madam,' a 'Lady'?
Wearing dresses made of the finest silk, golden rings on your fingers, and never having to work again.
We can hire maids to clean the house, and a cook to prepare meals—you'll only need to drink afternoon tea and tend to the garden.
At home, you'll only need to give orders. You'll become the most envied woman in Montiel."
His mother unconsciously touched her rough dress, a hint of longing in her eyes.
Finally, Lionel looked at Ivanna, who had been keeping her head down: "Sister… I know that swindler hurt you deeply.
But with money and status, everything will be different. You can marry gloriously.
You can choose any respectable young man in Montiel or Lalagne—a doctor, a lawyer, a wealthier farmer—anyone.
Our Sorel Family family won't need to provide a dowry; instead, they'll be honored to marry into our family."
Ivanna looked up, a glimmer of light in her eyes.
The air seemed to freeze until the kerosene lamp wick crackled once.
Joseph Sorel Family was the first to slowly shake his head: "Lionel, thank you for wanting me to… 'shine.'
But 'Master'? Let's not. I'm old, my bones are stiff, I'm used to bending my back, and if I suddenly straighten it, I won't know how to walk.
Those… power, ostentation, I can't handle them. Those people who flatter you today can curse you behind your back tomorrow.
I'm almost retired; I just want to live out my old age quietly."
His mother spoke next, her tone gentle: "Lionel, my good child. Mother knows you're capable and thoughtful.
But… being served by others? How uncomfortable that would be! I've been busy my whole life, washing clothes, cooking, cleaning the yard, I'm used to it.
If I were truly idle, doing nothing, I fear my old bones would fall apart."
Ivanna gently bit her lip: "Leo, thank you… But a man who marries me because of your money, your reputation…
He wouldn't be looking at me, Ivanna Sorel, but at 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 fell, and a great wave of relief washed over him.
After the incident of being swindled out of 5,000 francs, this family seemed to have matured too much.
He let out a long breath, a relaxed smile on his face: "Good, truly good. Father, Mother, Sister, I'm genuinely happy you can think this way."
At this point, Father Joseph asked with some concern: "What do you plan to do with those 20,000 francs?
As you've seen, many people in Montiel need help… Are you going to distribute the money to them?"
Lionel pondered for a moment, then counter-questioned: "Are you familiar with Old Pierre's situation? The roof of his house…"
Joseph was startled: "The roof… it did collapse under the snow last year, and we all helped him fix it.
There's indeed still a corner that wasn't repaired, but it's his second son's room, and he said his second son doesn't come back once a year, so he wanted to save some money first…"
"What about Mrs. 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 from the mill 200 francs?"
"Old Dupont is a bit ruthless… 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 crazy! Even if you hire the best carpenter from Gap and use the best beech, it would be 400 francs at most!"
…
The two exchanged a few more words, and Joseph fell silent.
Lionel sighed: "If we distribute it, do we give them as much as they ask for?"
Joseph firmly shook his head: "Of course not… Some people don't need that much money at all, or even don't need this money."
Lionel then asked: "If that's the case, who will do this work of 'estimating' and 'distributing'? Can you do it?"
Joseph quickly waved his hands in alarm: "Then the entire Montiel would become our family's enemies!"
Lionel continued to ask: "What about letting the Mayor or the Father do it? No one should dare to hold a grudge against them."
Joseph gave an awkward smile and said nothing, as he was still the town government's clerk.
Lionel didn't press, but instead offered a different solution: "How about an equal split, Father? Each family would get about 200 francs."
Joseph thought for a long while, but still shook his head: "That won't work either. Some people don't need that much, and for others, 200 francs isn't enough…
Dividing it this way, most people still won't be satisfied… and in the end, they'll still complain about our family."
Lionel nodded: "So these 20,000 francs are truly a hot potato… unless… we let more people see these 20,000 francs…
Don't worry, I will handle this money in the best possible way, both honoring my friends in Paris and benefiting Montiel."
…
That night, Lionel wrote furiously in his room until late.
— — — —
Early the next morning, led by Mayor Bertrand and Father Peltier, a large group of Montiel villagers marched grandly towards Lalagne.
Lionel watched the crowd depart, then quietly led his horse from the backyard, took a small path, and galloped towards Lalagne.
He had to deal with the money as quickly as possible while everyone's attention was drawn to the protest.
The Lalagne post office was indeed much quieter today; even the postmen had been dispatched to the town hall to maintain order.
Lionel easily found Director Nicolas Bodin.
Lionel spoke directly: "You don't need to prepare the 20,000 francs in cash for me."
Director Bodin was startled: "Ah? Mr. Sorel, are you…"
Lionel produced the address and letter he had already written: "I want to make a remittance. All of this money is to be sent to Gap, to the Rothschild Family Bank."
Gap is the capital of the Hautes-Alpes department, a considerable distance from Lalagne, and 20,000 francs there would not be 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, urged by Lionel and with 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.
Having completed all this, Lionel felt considerably relieved.
He carefully put away the remittance voucher and letter receipt, then took out several more letters and handed them to Director Bodin: "All to Paris, as quickly as possible."
Then, he quietly returned to Montiel.
In the afternoon, the crowd who had gone to protest in Lalagne returned, their emotions complex.
They had received some verbal promises and reassurances; Mayor Martino stated he "respected the donor's wishes and Mr. Sorel's decision."
Of course, he also did not explicitly state that he would give up his "guidance" over the use of the funds.
The protesters felt both a sense of relief and a bit lost, unsure what would happen next.
In this atmosphere, Lionel acted.
He asked his father Joseph to invite Mayor Bertrand, Father Peltier, and Mr. Renault from Saint Joseph School.
Then, they walked together to the small square in the town—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 an almost imperceptible tension, unsure what Lionel was about to announce.
Old Mr. Renault leaned on his cane, his eyes also full of confusion.
Lionel's voice was clear and calm: "Fellow villagers, regarding those 20,000 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 said this, a stir went through the crowd; most of the townspeople looked confused, as this was beyond their understanding.
The Mayor and the Father's expressions, however, became very grim.
Lionel ignored them, his voice still steady: "It will not be divided up; 200 francs per family will not solve long-term problems;
Nor will it be immediately used to repair bridges, mend roads, or build houses, as that might breed new injustice and corruption."
Someone below couldn't help but shout out the question on their mind: "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. A scholarship? This word was completely unfamiliar to most townspeople.
Lionel patiently explained: "The rules are simple—
From today, any child from Montiel, as long as they complete primary school at Saint Joseph School, and can, in the future, based on their secondary school examination results and not a letter of recommendation, be the first to be admitted to any of the four universities in Paris—
Sorbonne, École Normale Supérieure, École Polytechnique, or the Paris Faculty of Medicine—
Will receive this 20,000 francs in a lump sum!"
This news exploded like a bomb in the crowd!