Chapter 250: The Boomerang of the Assembly of Notables
"What nonsense are you spouting?" The Duke of Durfort's estate manager looked haughtily at Scarface. "His Grace knows nothing about any reserve grain!"
"This is His Grace's territory, you'd best leave quickly before the army arrives to arrest you all!"
A Police Intelligence Bureau agent nearby immediately turned and shouted to the crowd:
"Did everyone hear that? They're guilty and know it! They're threatening to have the army arrest us!"
Over a thousand demonstrators instantly erupted in furious shouts:
"That noble's lackey, beat him up!"
"Don't waste words on him, go in and reclaim our grain!"
"Everyone, charge in!"
The manager was startled by the sheer force of the crowd. He only had ten guns here; if the rioters surged forward, the estate's guards wouldn't be able to stop them.
"How dare you threaten a noble? This is a serious crime!"
A gang member hidden among the crowd threw a clod of earth at the manager:
"Those who steal grain are the real criminals!"
Prompted by this, various stones and refuse immediately followed, flying over and nearly overwhelming the few guards at the manager's estate gate.
The manager retreated inside the main gate and said fearfully to the guards:
"Raise your guns! Anyone who takes another step forward, shoot them dead!"
The Police Intelligence Bureau agent responsible for the Nice region motioned for the people to stop attacking and looked amiably at the manager:
"You see, everyone is saying that the Duke transported away the reserve grain. If you could let us into the estate to check, perhaps we could prove the Duke's innocence."
Scarface and his subordinates also started shouting along:
"That's right! Into the estate to check!"
"Prove your innocence!"
According to the 'boss's' rules, as long as they entered the estate, there would be a reward of 20 Livres.
The manager saw that rioters were already eager to scale the walls. He hesitated for a moment, then finally nodded resignedly:
"Go ahead and look. I've already told you there's no reserve grain here. However, only three people can come in at most."
Scarface immediately shouted loudly:
"No way! Three people can't possibly search an estate this large! We need at least twenty!"
"Exactly! Only three people will be bought off!"
"We need thirty people. I want to inspect it!"
Finally, under the crowd's threats, the estate manager allowed twenty people, including Scarface and the Police Intelligence Bureau agent, into the estate.
The Police Intelligence Bureau agent first pretended to examine several cellars and quickly located a refuse incinerator, signaling Scarface with a glance.
The latter immediately ran to the incinerator, following the 'script,' picked up a piece of tattered cloth from the tall weeds behind it, and shouted:
"Isn't this a grain sack from the reserve granary?"
The people who had entered the estate immediately gathered around, and when they saw the half-burnt sack, they could no longer restrain themselves:
"They're the ones who stole the reserve grain!"
"This is the evidence!"
"These damned scoundrels, still claiming innocence!"
Under the manager's astonished gaze, Scarface strode back to the estate entrance and threw the 'evidence' to the demonstrators:
"Look what we found?!"
Of course, this item had been planted in the estate by Police Intelligence Bureau agents the previous night. There were two more pieces of similar 'evidence.'
Scarface vigorously waved his hand at the crowd:
"What are you waiting for? Take back our grain!"
His subordinates, familiar with the routine, immediately pushed forward and knocked down the guards—a tactic originally taught to them by the Duke of Orleans' spies.
The furious demonstrators' eyes turned bloodshot as they surged into the estate, shouting.
Everyone on the estate trembled with fear, hiding in corners, not daring to obstruct them.
Scarface led the crowd to a cellar, smashed open its door in a few blows, and gestured inside:
"Our grain is right here!"
Similar scenes unfolded throughout the estate. The thousand-plus people quickly uncovered tens of thousands of bushels of grain from the estate's cellars and storerooms and naturally concluded that this was the stolen reserve grain.
Afterward, others found additional evidence, such as torn half-receipts from the reserve granary, further solidifying the accusation that Duke Durfort had stolen grain.
An old man looked at the mountain of grain before him, covered his face, and cried out mournfully:
"If we had had this grain, my wife wouldn't have starved to death..."
Others were immediately stirred by painful memories and joined in loudly cursing Duke Durfort.
Scarface, meanwhile, continued his task, pointing toward the luxurious villa in the center of the estate:
"Everything in there was bought with money from selling the reserve grain! We have the right to take it all!"
Someone immediately echoed loudly:
"That's right! My sister's death deserves compensation!"
"And my father!"
"And my twin sons!"
The dense crowd surged into the villa, sweeping away everything valuable and worthless almost instantly. Eventually, even the doors, windows, and roof were torn down. What could be carried off was taken; what couldn't was smashed.
It wasn't until dusk approached that the vengeful crowd gradually left the estate.
Meanwhile, the army stationed in Nice, despite receiving over a dozen pleas for help from the estate, never dispatched a single soldier. All their officers, from battalion commanders upwards, were currently at Versailles for an audience with the King and had not yet returned. Lower-ranking officers dared not mobilize hundreds of soldiers on their own initiative. What's more, the soldiers themselves had heard about Duke Durfort stealing the reserve grain, many of them having lost relatives to the previous famine. Had it not been for military discipline, they would have even wanted to join in ransacking the estate.
The next day, the enraged crowd returned to the Duke of Durfort's estate and heard a man with a scarred face loudly proclaiming:
"Duke Durfort also has a villa in Villefranche Town! We can't just let him off!"
The people immediately responded with roars:
"That's right! To Villefranche Town!"
"Avenge our loved ones!"
"This devil must pay!"
Even more demonstrators than yesterday then marched grandly towards Villefranche Town...
The riots sparked by hatred swept across all of western and southern France, with situations similar to Nice found everywhere.
In Montauban, all three of Duke Mouchy's villas were burned to the ground by enraged citizens, reduced to cinders...
In Auch, after smashing Duke Brissac's villa, the people shaved the heads of everyone there, men and women alike, to vent their fury...
The worst fate befell nobles like Count de Dumonceau, Duke of Noailles, and others who had coincidentally returned to their ancestral homes in the south to escape the cold. They were caught by the enraged mob and beaten to death in their homes. Some even had their entire families wiped out by the furious crowds...
These great nobles of the Assembly of Notables likely never imagined that the starving people they had meticulously conspired to create would one day turn into "monsters" and return to devour them all!
...
Northern Brittany province.
Armor.
Fouché's eyes were filled with excitement and madness as he stared at the bare tree trunks outside the carriage window, muttering ceaselessly under his breath:
"Don't you dare run... Yes, you're right here, waiting for me..."
Half an hour later, the carriage stopped in front of a small house in Armor's northern suburbs.
The Police Intelligence Bureau officer responsible for the reception stepped forward and solicitously opened the carriage door and immediately heard Fouché's impatient voice:
"Is he still there?"
The officer quickly leaned forward and lowered his voice, saying:
"Yes, sir. The Duke of Orleans has been in that estate these past few days..."
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