The Fox of France - Chapter 165 (Patreon)

After a month of tireless efforts in France, Sean, the representative of the Irish resistance organization, finally had the opportunity to meet a significant figure in Madame Rousseau's salon, the Member of the National Convention, Lucien Bonaparte.

At that time, the beautiful Madame Fleurette made him wait at the entrance of the ballroom while she gracefully walked through the brilliantly lit hall, making her way to a row of sofas where two people were seated, one of them a young man.

"Lucien, do you remember the Irishman I told you about last time? The one with so many stories that broke my heart," Madame Fleurette said, casting a seductive look towards Lucien. "I want to help him, and among all my friends, only you have the power, kindness, and sympathy to assist the poor Irish. So, I brought him here. Would you like to meet him?"

Lucien knew that Madame Fleurette's willingness to speak for an Irishman was likely driven by motives other than pure sympathy. His gaze shifted from Madame Fleurette's slender, graceful neck, adorned with an unfamiliar, rustic-looking necklace. At the bottom of the necklace hung a gem almost as large as a pigeon's egg. If these impoverished Irish people had truly given her this, they had invested quite a sum.

"Well, can I bring him over?" Madame Fleurette asked, her enchanting smile intact.

"Of course, my dear!" Lucien raised his wine glass toward Madame Fleurette. "But after a while, you must sit next to me, so I can properly admire your new necklace."

"Is there a problem with that?" Madame Fleurette leaned closer, her hand embracing Lucien's arm, gently pressing her chest to make her assets appear closer, allowing him a better view of the gem nestled in the valley between them.

"Unique design, beautiful gem, and a perfect match with you, my dear," Lucien leaned in, his lips almost touching Madame Fleurette's earlobe. "But, my dear, have you had enough?"

"Not at all. How could I get enough in such a short time? I still need to examine it carefully later," Lucien whispered, gently biting Madame Fleurette's earlobe. "But for now, my dear, you can let your friend come over."

With Lucien's permission, Madame Fleurette straightened her posture and waved Sean over from the doorway.

Sean hurriedly approached, and Madame Fleurette slightly furrowed her delicate eyebrows as she introduced him to Lucien. "Lucien, this is Mr. Sean from Ireland, the one I mentioned to you. He's a man with many stories, some of which have broken my heart. I want to help him, and among all my friends, only you have the power, kindness, and sympathy to assist the unfortunate Irish. So, I brought him here. Would you like to get to know him?"

"Hello, Mr. Bonaparte," Sean said quickly. Clearly, a luxurious and ambiguous French salon was uncomfortable for Irishmen accustomed to simpler surroundings.

"Hello, Mr. Sean," Lucien gestured towards an empty seat beside him. "You can sit down, and we can talk."

As Sean took his seat, Lucien continued, "Allow me to introduce my friend sitting beside me. This is Armand, Armand Duson. He's my best friend and business partner, one of the wealthiest bankers in Paris. He is a man of great reputation, entirely trustworthy. You don't need to hold anything back in his presence."

"Hello, Mr. Duson," Sean quickly stood up again.

In this dim corner, Lucien and Sean conversed for quite some time. Later, Sean would recall this part of history:

"Mr. Lucien Bonaparte is indeed as Madame Fleurette described - a man of great compassion. After learning about the Irish people's suffering, he showed profound sympathy. He promised to provide me with an opportunity to appeal to the honorable members of the National Convention. However, I am not skilled at public speaking, and my French is heavily accented. For this, Mr. Bonaparte even helped me find a teacher to train my speaking skills and personally guided me in drafting speeches. The most famous part of that speech was actually written by Mr. Bonaparte. Behind the scenes, he made countless unknown efforts to support the Irish people's quest for independence."

With Lucien's efforts, the National Convention passed the "Irish Relations Act," declaring an unbreakable alliance with the Irish people to jointly confront their common enemy, the English. The Convention urged the Directory to immediately take practical action and allocate funds to support the just struggle of the Irish people.

Taking money from the "Military-Industrial Consortium," the Directory acted swiftly. Soon, a substantial sum of money was allocated to support the Irish revolution. However, rumors circulated that at least a third of these funds never left Paris and were used as a lubricant for government actions.

The "Military-Industrial Consortium" was exceptionally efficient. On the day the funds were allocated, Sean received word that the "French Military-Industrial Consortium" would produce and ship the first batch of weapons to the Irish brothers free of charge within two weeks. Now, they needed Sean to make immediate contact with the Irish people so they could deliver these precious weapons to those who needed them most.

A month later, the "Flyer" clipper ship, loaded with various weapons and Sean, along with another Irishman named Liam, set sail.

The delay wasn't due to slow action on the French side, but because the Irish had to arrange things on their end.

"Would you gentlemen get seasick?" Captain Van der Deken asked as they boarded the ship.

"No, we don't," Sean replied.

"That's good. Do you know how to swim?" Captain Van der Deken inquired.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Sean felt that something was not quite right.

"You see, our ship has to risk breaking through the English fleet's blockade. Therefore, this ship's design is solely focused on speed. Everything else can be sacrificed, including safety. Do you understand what I mean?" Sean nodded in acknowledgment, realizing the high-risk nature of smuggling.

"We understand," Sean said.

Sean believed he understood the danger of this ship, but once they were at sea, he realized he had underestimated the peril. The ship rocked violently, and even Sean and Liam, who had never been seasick before, found themselves vomiting. It was important to remember that the weather was still relatively calm. This was a clear sign of how treacherous it could be if they encountered larger waves—French support for the Irish people was truly a perilous endeavor.

The "Flyer" clipper ship, despite its intense rocking, had decent resistance to rough seas. Captain Van der Deken's warning had been to make the Irish believe that many of the items they were transporting had "disappeared."

Days later, on a dark night, the "Flyer" arrived in the vicinity of Ireland. Looking from the land towards the sea, everything was pitch black, impossible to see. But looking from the sea towards the land was different. Beneath a cliff close to the sea, two fires were lit - the agreed-upon signal between those on the shore and the ship. Due to the cliff's cover, the fires couldn't be seen from the land.

The "Flyer" responded with two lanterns as agreed, and after a while, the left fire disappeared. A bit further to the right, two fires were ignited, signaling that everything was safe onshore.

In the darkness, the sailors lowered a small boat into the water, followed by packages tied to inflated leather floats and wrapped in oiled paper, all connected by ropes. After all the packages were in the water, Sean, Liam, and the sailors boarded the small boat, using oars to slowly row towards the shore.

By the time dawn was approaching, the sailors returned to the "Flyer." The ship retrieved the small boat and immediately hoisted its sails, leaving the dangerous area. Meanwhile, below the silhouette of the cliff, Sean, Liam, and a group of others were busy inspecting the weapons that had been delivered.

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