Chapter 665: Camelia's Crisis
"Annemarie, dear, what are you looking at?"
A gentle voice suddenly appeared from behind Herriot, startling her into spinning around. She saw a girl in a vibrant green lace dress, with a high chignon, foxy eyes, and a captivating beauty, smiling at her.
"Ah, Veronique, it's you," Herriot blinked instinctively, forcing a composed expression. "You... you didn't hear anything, did you?"
"No," Véronique Legris smiled, shaking her head. "What's wrong? Did I miss something?"
"No, no, nothing," Herriot said with a sigh of relief.
"Why didn't you go to the dinner party?" Miss Legris asked, inadvertently glancing up and catching sight of Camelia's back.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, then instantly adopted a concerned expression, taking Herriot's arm and whispering,
"My dear, as a friend, I must warn you. It's best to avoid that woman in the future."
Herriot immediately turned her head, her voice incredulous,
Legris sighed,
"You need to face reality, dear. Look at her seductive face and slender waist—any man finds her irresistible, and that naturally includes, *cough*... His Highness. And she also has Miss Perna's protection. Ah, I know that woman might have treated you poorly before, but you really can't afford to provoke her..."
Nobles loved to spread gossip, so almost everyone in Versailles knew about the incident at Notre Dame de Paris where the 'true love charm' was snatched.
Herriot bristled like a cat with its tail stepped on, hands on her hips, her face scarlet, her voice becoming sharp:
"Why should I? She's just a low-born Moravian! I am a noble French aristocrat! She's the one who should be avoiding me! I'm not afraid of her, let her come! We'll see who comes out on top!"
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry, I misspoke! Please don't be angry," Miss Legris said, as if startled, her eyes lowered slightly, and she spoke cautiously. "She certainly is just a crude country woman compared to you, but she can use her looks and schemes to get you into trouble. Just like... that time at Notre Dame..."
Herriot was trembling slightly from excitement:
"This is Paris! Versailles is ours! She won't get away with her wild ways here!"
Legris urgently tugged her arm, concern etched on her face:
"Don't be like this. Provoking her will only bring you harm. I'm truly worried about you!"
She glanced at Herriot's expression and continued to console her:
"Ah, if only she were dead. If you ask me, God should punish her by drowning her, sending her to hell sooner rather than later. Otherwise, your life at Versailles will likely be miserable..."
"Stop it!" Herriot roared, disregarding etiquette, forcefully shaking off her friend's hand, lifting her skirt, and running out of the cabin.
The sun was setting. A gentle breeze from the Seine River brushed against Herriot's face, yet she felt as if knives were stabbing her.
Just then, she heard a girl's voice coming from the stairs:
"Oh, Mr. Aldin, I completely forgot the yogurt sauce! It's the soul of the nut-stewed pigeon. Please take the dishes to the restaurant first; I'll go back to the pantry for the sauce."
Herriot was all too familiar with that voice.
'That Austrian harlot!'
Since the Pyroscaphe utilized the hot water and high-temperature coal ash from its boiler, the kitchen was built separately on the side of the boiler room. One had to cross a section of the deck to reach the pantry in the aft cabin.
Soon after, Herriot saw the black and white dress appear not far away.
She quickly darted to hide behind the side of the wheelhouse, then stamped her foot in furious indignation:
'I, I'm not hiding from her!'
The sound of a door closing came from the pantry, and Camelia, humming a tune and carrying a jar of yogurt, walked over.
As she passed Herriot's hiding spot, Legris's words inexplicably popped into the latter's mind: 'God should punish her by drowning her in the water...'
Herriot felt a wave of suffocation; her bloodshot eyes widened, her eyeballs bulging.
She quickly scanned the deck—the crew members were all busy slowing the ship, and there was no one else in sight.
Without much thought, Herriot slipped off her shoes and quietly approached Camelia from behind. When Camelia reached the stair entrance, the closest point to the deck railing, Herriot let out a low growl and lunged, slamming into her!
On the bow deck of the paddle-schooner "Seven Birds," Sorel leaned against the railing with a melancholic expression, softly muttering to the wooden barrel in front of her:
"Kind sir, look, could you please refund my betting money? A few poor souls desperately need this..."
"Ah! How is that possible?" She irritably ruffled her hair. 'The race started a day ago, how could the betting money be refunded?
'But what about Mr. Hatki and the others... Ah! It's all my fault, all my fault!'
Not long ago, she had rescued a dozen poor souls from a group of slave traders. Usually, in such situations, she would simply give them some travel money and send them home.
However, this time, most of the people who had been trafficked were from the Far East, along with five Native Americans from North America.
First, she treated their ailments, then bought ship tickets to Java for the nine Asians, entrusting her friends to send them back. If they were to board the ship alone, they would likely be robbed clean, or even sold again, before they even rounded the Cape of Good Hope.
Afterward, she awkwardly discovered that she no longer had enough money to send the people from the Creek tribe back to North America.
So, she drew an advance on three months of her salary—she had gotten a job with the Intelligence Bureau since late last year—and added her remaining savings, betting it all on the "Seven Birds" to win this cargo ship race, a total of 400 francs. Because of her high betting amount, she also qualified to board the ship and observe the race.
If the "Seven Birds" won, she would receive 880 francs.
But she had no idea that the smoky ship, which everyone mocked before the race, would run so incredibly fast!
The captain of the "Seven Birds" had replaced the oarsmen for a second time in Rouen, and a surprising breeze had picked up on the Seine River. Only then did they barely manage to catch sight of the steamship's stern once more.
"Put your backs into it! After Le Havre, there's a 10-franc bonus for everyone!"
The captain's hysterical roar reached her ears, and the "Seven Birds" instantly surged forward a bit.
However, Sorel knew that the "Seven Birds" had almost no chance of winning, and all her money was gone. Not only could she not send Mr. Hatki and the others back to North America, but even her food money for the latter half of the month would be an issue...
A puff of white smoke rose from the water ahead. Sorel curiously gazed in that direction, unaware that it was the Pyroscaphe releasing steam.
As the white mist dissipated, she suddenly saw two figures sway on the steamship's deck, and then one of them fell from the side into the Seine River.
Sorel instinctively gripped the hilt of the sword at her waist. In the last lingering rays of the setting sun, she saw a pink wide-brimmed ladies' hat with a feather. The owner of the hat paid no mind to the person who had fallen into the water; instead, she turned and entered a cabin.
Sorel was shocked. She quickly ran towards the captain's cabin, shouting loudly:
"Mr. Ossian, someone fell overboard!"
The captain ran out with a group of people:
"Where?"
"Who fell in?"
Sorel pointed towards the Pyroscaphe, which was slightly ahead and to the side, and urgently said:
"Over there! That ship!"
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