Chapter 512: Paoli's Dead End
Judging from the votes already tallied in several towns, Oscar Paoli's influence in Corsica remained enormous.
After all, his father was the founder of the Corsican restoration faction, who had assembled an army to drive out the Genoese rulers and even briefly achieved independence. After France acquired Corsica, Paoli himself led forces in a war against France. Though he was defeated, his reputation had spread throughout Corsica.
Consequently, the Paoli faction's representatives firmly secured 35% of the votes.
The pro-French faction also rose unexpectedly this time. Thanks to Count Buttafuoco surprisingly setting aside his prejudices and allying with the Liberals, they captured nearly 30% of the votes in one fell swoop.
Meanwhile, the anti-Paoli faction spared no effort to publicize Paoli's embezzlement of organizational funds and his collusion with the French army. However, few seemed to believe them, to the extent that even with Chalmers' substantial financial sponsorship, they only managed to garner 15% of the votes.
The remaining nearly 20% of the votes went to the moderate restorationists.
It's worth noting that if the restoration faction had remained as united as before, they would likely have secured over 70% of the assembly seats, thereby meeting the requirements for legislation.
But now, they were tearing each other apart. No one even bothered with the pro-French faction anymore.
Southwest Corsica.
The dark-skinned man on the left nodded continuously:
“Agosta did well; the incendiary materials are very discreetly placed.”
He lowered the telescope and said to the young man beside him:
“Alright, Filippo, let's head back to town. The operation begins tomorrow night. Oh, you've probably heard the news—the election results aren't looking good.”
The latter nodded, “It seems those loyal to Mr. Paoli received just over a third of the votes. Those traitors deserve to burn in hell!”
“Yes, which is why we must complete this mission. That way, Elioc and the others will at least return to Mr. Paoli's banner.”
“Yes, sir.” Filippo gritted his teeth and nodded with difficulty. “I won't disappoint you.”
Nonza village was a well-known base for restoration members—over thirty soldiers in the National Guard were from Nonza, making it incredibly difficult to find someone willing to set a fire here.
Paoli's nephew, Cesari, had to repeatedly persuade his three personal guards to reluctantly accept this mission.
Filippo was the one tasked with starting the fire.
When the arsonist trio returned to the nearby town of Quarles, they had barely stepped into the inn when they heard two merchants with Southern Italian accents chuckling suggestively and whispering:
“That's right, when the police went in, Paoli wasn't even dressed, just standing there dumbfounded. A dozen people nearby saw it, haha.”
“Who knew the Corsicans worshipped him like a god, when he's just an old pervert.”
“And a lecher at that. He couldn't even bother to court the lady properly, just went straight for force. Hmm, the most unfortunate one was her poor aunt; she was just worried about her niece and ended up suffering Paoli's ‘poisonous touch’ too...”
The two men broke into another lewd chuckle. “You have to admit, his tastes are certainly... unique. Apparently, Miss Isabella's aunt is almost a grandmother, and he still went for her.”
“Haha, maybe Corsicans just have that kind of preference...”
Filippo couldn't hear everything clearly, but he distinguished words like “Paoli,” “old pervert,” and “force.” Combined with the utterly lecherous expressions on the two men's faces, his rage immediately surged. He strode over, grabbed one of them by the collar, and roared:
“How dare you insult Mr. Paoli?!”
Agosta followed suit, giving the other merchant a strong shove:
“You'll pay for what you just said!”
The two merchants jumped in fright and hastily protested:
“What are you doing? I'm not making things up! Oh, there's news about it in The London Gazette.”
“Right, that Paoli has already been arrested for rape. Miss Isabella's father was so furious he nearly killed him.”
“No, impossible!” Filippo, a fan of Paoli since childhood, immediately roared, ready to strike them. “You're not allowed to slander Mr. Paoli!”
“Wait!” the older merchant cried, clutching his head and gesturing towards his satchel. “There's a copy of The Times there; I remember it also reported on this. You can see for yourselves...”
Filippo paused, threw him aside, turned, opened the satchel, and quickly pulled out a copy of The Times.
It was last week's newspaper, and sure enough, the second page bore a huge headline: “Corsican Political Leader Arrested for Rape.”
His body trembling, he read on, seeing that the news stated Paoli had lured a noblewoman named Isabella to a secluded cottage in the suburbs and assaulted her. Isabella's aunt, having suspected Paoli was trouble all along, had quietly followed them. When she heard sounds of a struggle after her niece entered the house, she stepped forward and knocked on the door, only to be unexpectedly dragged inside by Paoli as well...
The article was accompanied by numerous graphic details, which Filippo no longer dared to read. He tossed the newspaper aside and glared at the two merchants, saying:
“You're lying to me! This isn't true!”
“Stubborn fool,” the merchant sneered, stepping forward to pack his satchel. “There were over a dozen eyewitnesses. Now the whole of Britain knows about it. What is he to you? I suggest you look after your own womenfolk instead.”
Filippo collapsed onto a chair in the inn, his head feeling as if it might split open. He couldn't believe that Mr. Paoli, whom he had idolized for so long, could commit such a monstrous act...
Of course, this was all just a trap set by the French Intelligence Bureau.
The only thing Fouché wasn't entirely satisfied with was his inability to find a man who, dressed in a skirt, could effectively seduce Paoli—if the Chevalier d'Éon were still young, he certainly would have been up to the task.
Therefore, he had to settle for a compromise, enlisting Isabella to seduce Paoli. However, adhering to the principle of ‘if quality isn't enough, make up for it with quantity,’ he also arranged for an aunt to be a second victim for Paoli.
And so, Paoli became infamous in Britain.
The next day, a distraught Filippo saw the newspaper delivered from Ajaccio. It had already republished the news from Britain, with even more exhaustive details—Bartorio and the anti-Paoli faction's representatives naturally wouldn't miss such an excellent opportunity. They spared no effort to publicize the matter, even sending journalists to London to follow up on the reports.
Filippo walked for an unknown duration, clutching a copy of The Corsica Morning Post, until he suddenly looked up and saw Nonza village appear before him.
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