In the office of the Paris police department, there were several newspapers in front of Baron Haussmann, who were whispering. General Espinas, who was sitting across from him, looked at the other man's face with a gloomy expression.

“…… Because an article arrests a young man on trumped-up charges, this is the spirit of freedom that your country professes? I accuse you of arrest and oppression without any reason, and as long as there is an upright man with a conscience in Paris, this absurd verdict will not be upheld! ”

"This one was written by Flaubert."

At the end of each article, Baron Ottoman picked up another newspaper and continued reading.

“…… There is no republic, no freedom, no fairness in the empire, but justice must not be lost! ”

"This one was written by George Sand."

“…… I call on everyone to protest against this despicable act, this is not the end of authoritarian oppression, this is just the beginning! In the future, if you say the wrong thing on the street, someone will tap you on the shoulder and ask you to go to the police station and turn yourself in. Compatriots, wake up, we are a herd of lambs to the slaughter who have been hoisted! ”

"This one was written by Baudelaire."

"There were ten articles in total, and in order to expand their influence, they were published in ten newspapers. Now there was a lot of scolding outside. ”

"Enough!"

General Espinas slammed his angry fist on the table, gritting his teeth and saying, "These damn public intellectuals are a bunch of plans that are afraid of chaos in the world. Just these few rebellious parties with pen sticks also want to shake the rule of the empire? Dream on! ”

"But General, I have to warn you that newspapers are more lethal than bullets."

Baron Osman put down the newspaper and said, "If it weren't for the terrible arrests of your subordinates, you wouldn't have been caught by this group of republican literati." And they have united against the government for the first time in history, and they are also trying to exert pressure on public opinion, I don't think this matter is so simple, it is very likely that someone is instigating it behind the scenes. ”

"Abetment? Then arrest all these guys who are in the newspapers! ”

General Espinas snorted coldly and said simply and rudely, "Detain them for ten days and half a month, see if they dare to talk nonsense." ”

"No, the current situation is very passive, and we can't take the initiative."

Baron Osman shook his head, stopping the other party's stupid thoughts. Not to mention Baudelaire's inextricable connection with the members of the Palais Bourbon, just because George Sand was an old friend of Prince Jérôme, there was no reason for them to act on their own.

"If they are arrested, it will cause an even bigger storm of public opinion in Paris. Compared to Blanqui's assassination, you don't want to experience another riot and revolution because of this incident, right? ”

Hearing the word revolution, General Espinas, who was a Bonapartist faction, finally relented. He was not afraid of the Slavic grey livestock, but of the Germanic barbarians, but of the revolution of the masses.

Spread his hands and said with a headache, "What do you say now?" ”

"Choose silence and do what you have to do. Anyway, they won't be able to make a fuss for long. ”

Baron Osman said triumphantly, "As long as the high-level does not speak, the arrested revolutionary party must be sentenced through a regular legal process, and we have witnesses, are we afraid that they will be able to turn the tables?" ”

Baron Osman looked out the window and said, "Now that he has been transferred to the Central Prison, he can't afford to make waves for the time being." ”

While the public opinion was condemning, Garian was transferred from a temporary prison to a more strictly regulated central prison under the supervision of the police.

Now Blanqui is still at large, and Garion is the only clue to the Paris police, and his superiors have told him to keep a strict watch and not to make any mistakes.

No one can afford to be guilty of dereliction of duty.

The carriage moved through the bumps, with two other prisoners in the sealed carriage following Garion as he moved. The faces of each other could not be seen clearly in the dimly lit carriage, and their heads had been hiding in the shadows.

There were many potholes and bumps on the road, and the sound of police cursing could be heard outside the carriage all the time.

Garion closed his eyes, silently waiting for the end of the long journey.

I don't know how long it took, the wheels finally stopped turning, and then there was a clattering sound in my ears as the door lock was opened, and then the door was slowly opened, and the light surged into the dark compartment, illuminating all the dark corners.

Garion squinted his eyes and waited a few seconds to adjust to the light outside the carriage before he stepped down. He looked up at the central cell in front of him.

It was a cold prison, with high walls blocking the view, making him a silent siege. The gray-brown walls were densely packed with narrow windows, and the space was flattened by iron bars, barely enough for a man to stick out of the gap with an arm longing for freedom.

Like the Bastille, it was a symbol of the despotism of the Second Empire. The unstable factors that threaten the rule of the empire are concentrated in this place, and the final outcome is either execution, exile, or imprisonment for life.

Everywhere there were prison guards patrolling with rifles, gathered in twos and threes, looking around with vigilant eyes. When he stepped into the prison, he looked at Garion as he got out of the carriage with a wolf-like look, his fingers on the trigger as if nothing had happened.

After traversing the courtyard, Garion finally arrived at the eerie prison. The sanitary conditions were even dirtier than the temporary prison cells at the police station, and the disheveled prisoners were kept together in twos and threes, and when they saw the newcomers, they all looked at the corridors.

The other two guys he hadn't met were taken away, and Garion was taken to room 302. The guards unshackled him and shoved him roughly.

The small discussion came to an abrupt end, and two of the two people in the room stared at the newcomer Garian maliciously, as if he had just interrupted their conversation.

"What's your name, new kid?"

The man sitting in the shadows stood up and walked out slowly. He held a toothpick in his mouth and looked at the new young man in front of him.

"Garion."

Tall and tall of nearly 1.8 meters, he stands out among this group of middle-aged men. In the mid-nineteenth century, the average height of a European man was around 165, and there was a huge disparity between the upper class and the general population due to nutritional intake. So Garion can have a height of nearly one meter eight, which is already comparable to Bismarck.

Hearing his pure Parisian accent, the man couldn't help but frown and said, "You're Parisian?" ”

"No, I'm a peasant from the Loire, do you think I look like a Parisian aristocrat?" ”

"No, well, gentlemen, don't be nervous, it's not the dogleg of the Empire."

The man looked at him hesitantly for a moment, and finally did not wave his fist at him, but introduced himself meaningfully, "My name is Desami, and the Central Prison does not welcome errant nobles, believe me. ”

After dispelling the hostility, Garion sat down in his bed, and the others stopped talking, only occasionally looking at Garion in front of him with wary eyes.

Garion clenched his fists as well, he didn't want to be targeted for some reason.

The scumbag-faced Sadmi looked at Garion in front of him, and in order to ease the relationship, he tentatively asked, "What is your crime?" ”

Holding a toothpick in his mouth, Desami said slowly, "The prisoners who were sent to the Central Prison are not ordinary thieves or robbers, but more political, right?" ”

"Mr. Desami, you guessed it."

Garion smiled wryly and said, "They suspect me of colluding with the revolutionaries, so what about your charges?" ”

"Ever heard of the Charcoal Burning Party?"

Desami spit out the toothpick in his mouth, squinted his eyes at the young man in front of him, and said slowly, "I am a revolutionary. ”