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Chapter 382: Committee of Free Allies

Saint-Just watched the flimsy piece of paper in the mounted policeman's hand, faintly making out his own handwriting on it.

His face immediately turned ashen, and his heart began to pound uncontrollably in his chest.

'That letter... how did it fall into the hands of the French police?! Did Joseph betray the club? Impossible, he's a student of Mr. Rousseau...'

Joseph himself had delivered the letter to Brussels. If it wasn't him, then there could only be a traitor within the Southern Netherlands "Committee of Free Allies"!

Saint-Just glared fiercely at Yeskut, who stood not far away, then pointed at the mounted police captain and shouted at the surrounding farmers, "They're lying! Don't let them fool you!"

In the momentary distraction of the hundreds present, he suddenly leaped from the stone platform and frantically ran towards the path leading out of the village.

The Southern Netherlands "Committee of Free Allies" contact person hesitated for two seconds, then suddenly lunged at the mounted policeman, attempting to snatch the letter from his hand.

The mounted policeman was completely unlike his usual clumsy self—Police Reform had not involved rural mounted police; some of them belonged to the tax system, so most appeared poorly trained—he nimbly dodged Yeskut's attack, and, seizing the opportunity, kicked him in the shin.

Yeskut immediately lost his balance and toppled to the ground. Two mounted policemen nearby rushed over at once and pinned him down firmly.

The farmers watched the scene before them in astonishment, then turned to look at Saint-Just, who was now just a distant figure. Without the mounted police needing to say another word, they understood eighty or ninety percent of what was happening and immediately began whispering and murmuring among themselves.

The mounted police captain still handed the letter to the farmers. After they had passed it around, he retrieved it and tucked it into his pocket.

In reality, the letter was completely fabricated. The real letter was still locked in the drawer of a Southern Netherlands "Committee of Free Allies" official.

Among the "Committee of Free Allies" members captured by the Intelligence Bureau, some had seen several of the letters. Fouché then ordered them to be roughly copied. They then retrieved letters from French Liberals from the postal system to mimic the handwriting.

More than half of the dozen mounted policemen were actually Intelligence Bureau agents in disguise. They merely waved the letter, full of flaws, in front of Saint-Just, and the latter, feeling guilty, fled.

Of course, if he hadn't run, then the "mounted police" wouldn't have actually given him the letter "for confrontation," but would have arrested and taken him away on the spot. Who among the farmers could tell if the letter was real or not?

Even if Saint-Just had handled the situation properly, exposed the agents, and even managed to escape, it wouldn't have mattered. Because the same scene was simultaneously unfolding in a dozen other places, including Lille and Reims.

Among the high-ranking Liberals stirring up trouble, there would always be someone whose psychological fortitude wasn't strong enough and would flee. As long as someone fled out of guilt, it would be tantamount to admitting the accusation, and the farmers present would all become witnesses.

In fact, almost all the Liberals instigating trouble felt guilty. The only difference was whether they ran immediately or continued to resist, trying to incite the farmers against the police.

The mounted police captain had his subordinates hoist Yeskut up, then gestured for a man with his hands bound behind him to step forward. "Do you know him?"

The man immediately nodded. "His name is Yeskut. He's one of the seven representatives of the 'Committee of Free Allies'."

The mounted police captain waved a hand towards the farmers again. "Tell them, who are you?"

"My name is Henry Berwyn. The Committee of Free Allies sent me to spread rumors and incite conflict between French farmers and nobles, to ease military pressure on Brussels..."

The mounted police captain nodded in satisfaction, gesturing for his subordinates to take the man away, then addressed the farmers present. "As you can see, you've all been deceived by the Southern Netherlanders—and, of course, by those so-called Liberals. They merely used you to stir up trouble. As for whether you get arrested or even killed, they couldn't care less."

The farmers immediately stirred with commotion. The timid ones had already quietly slipped back to their homes.

Another two farmers nervously whispered to each other, then timidly shuffled up to the mounted police, each pulling a few silver coins from their pockets, pointed at Yeskut and stammered, "Sir, s-sir, h-he said it was 'freedom allowance,' so we..."

"We truly didn't know he was here to incite riots. We'll hand over all the money, and we'll never dare to do it again..."

Even as members of the Southern Netherlands "Committee of Free Allies" were being arrested en masse by the Intelligence Bureau in Reims, Lille, and other locations, in the cells of the Reims Police Bureau, some thirty noble youths were murmuring curses:

"These idiotic police, slandering us as rioters!"

"They wouldn't dare hold us for long. There are certainly many at Versailles campaigning and praising our heroic actions."

"When I get out of here, I'll teach those commoners a lesson! They actually tried to coerce the government into giving them land — we absolutely cannot let them succeed!"

While called a prison, the conditions here were actually quite decent. Each five people shared a suite, complete with a living room and a toilet. Instruments even hung on the walls.

The rhythmic clatter of leather boots echoed down the corridor between the cells. A moment later, a squad of prison guards escorted three dejected men in handcuffs inside.

The door to the outermost cell swung open. The guards roughly shoved the three men inside and said coldly, "Good luck, you bastards!"

The iron door slammed shut with a thump. The prison guards turned and left.

In the opposite cell, a noble, peering through the small window on the door, called out loudly to the three men, "Hey, gentlemen, what 'great feat' brings you to our humble abode?"

The three men cast a glum glance at him but remained silent.

Laughter from the prison guards echoed from outside the cell. One of them rapped his truncheon against the cell door and said to the three men, "Netherlanders, why aren't you answering him?"

"Oh, you're from the Netherlands?" A noble immediately chimed in, eager for gossip. "To be locked up here, you must have done something quite significant, eh?"

The newly incarcerated men glimpsed the guards' threatening stares through the small window, and so had no choice but to turn to the noble and whisper, "We are... sent by the 'Committee of Free Allies'."

"The Committee?" The other nobles grew even more interested. "Is that the River Navigation Committee, or the Geology Committee?"

"It's... it's the 'Committee of Free Allies'..."

"Oh? What's that? I've never heard of it."

The Netherlander spoke with difficulty. "We connect with the French Liberals, striving to incite riots in France... This time, the farmers in Reims besieged the town hall under our call—ah, no, under our instigation..."

The faces of the nobles in the surrounding cells immediately turned ghastly pale with fury:

"Scoundrels! So it was you stirring things up behind the scenes!"

"No wonder those commoners had Flintlock Muskets! So, they were supplied by the Southern Netherlanders!"

"Damn it all! Let me out! I'll duel these scoundrels!"

However, the prison guards did not grant these nobles the opportunity for a duel. On the contrary, they were released two days later.