Chapter 245: Chronicles of France (2)

Chapter 245: Chronicles of France (2)

Regarding the merchant's statement, that "the town's workers are working harder than before, but at least they have bread to eat," Félix didn't find anything wrong with it. Because Félix wasn't a time traveler, in his view, working hard and then barely making a living was just the normal course of life. It was even God's will.

"God said: 'You will toil for your entire life to make a living.' This is our destiny," Félix thought, and his fondness for France actually increased.

That afternoon, the stagecoach stopped in an unknown small town for a rest. Everyone disembarked and took shelter in the town's only inn, which also doubled as a tavern.

As soon as they got off the stagecoach, the inn's waiter tended to the horses. The stagecoach driver greeted the innkeeper and casually took a bottle of wine from the counter.

Félix knew that the stagecoach stopping in such a small town was likely due to some cooperation between the driver and the innkeeper. This situation was quite common even in England.

The innkeeper handed them a register to record the travelers and examine their identification documents. This practice was also seen in England, so Félix didn't find it strange. He presented the identity certificate issued by the French Embassy in the UK and signed his name in the register. Then the innkeeper went inside to fetch them dinner bread.

As the sun was just beginning to dip in the west, a faint haze rose over the distant fields. In the twilight, Félix saw a few militiamen walking along a path heading out of the town.

"Why, is it not peaceful here? The fact that these militiamen are patrolling so late in the evening suggests otherwise," Félix asked the innkeeper, who was bringing him bread.

"It's peaceful, for the most part. It's just that there have been more petty thieves around lately," the innkeeper replied. "Over there, we have a hydroelectric power station, and the irrigation of our local fields relies on it. With winter now, the water level is low, and the power station is not operating much. But there's quite a bit of valuable copper inside it. Copper is particularly precious these days. So some folks, looking for easy gains, sneak in at night to steal copper. Our nearby farmland depends on that power station, and these rascals are putting it at risk. It's a shame we're not in an era of the guillotine; otherwise, these thieves would be in trouble."

This talk made Félix, who had a history as a thief, somewhat uncomfortable. So he asked, "Why are these people resorting to theft? Is it because they can't make a living for some reason?"

"Oh, sir, you're quite a kind-hearted person," the innkeeper said. "If we're talking about earlier years, that's a different story. Before the revolution, the common folk couldn't even survive. The meager crops they managed to grow were all taken away by the nobles and clergy. People who tilled the land themselves were starving. Back then, many people took desperate measures to avoid starvation.

After the revolution, things got even worse for a while. To counter foreign kings and their armies, a large number of young men were conscripted into the army, leading to vast areas of farmland lying fallow due to a lack of labor. Food became scarce. To feed all those soldiers, the government heavily requisitioned food..."

"Don't they pay for it?" Félix asked.

"They pay with vouchers. But can you consider vouchers as money?" the innkeeper said. "So, during that time, people's lives got progressively worse. Many even wished for the return of the nobles. In those days, even those who rebelled against the aristocracy did it out of necessity.

Félix got up, dressed, and went outside.

Though it was still not fully light outside, the Saint-Antoine district was already bustling. During the Robespierre era, the French established several saltpetre refineries in this area. Later, after Napoleon achieved significant victories and opened up trade routes, the French no longer needed to extract saltpetre through inefficient and expensive means. These refineries were then sold off to the military-industrial complex at a low price, consolidated, and became France's largest arms factory. After peace was achieved, these factories began to produce other things, such as various farming tools and household items. With relatively inexpensive iron and steel produced by the Lorraine Steel Company, these factories continued to thrive.

Félix noticed that the workers preparing for their shifts didn't look as healthy as the farmers he had seen in the countryside. However, compared to the workers in England, these people appeared to be in much better condition. Additionally, he observed something different from England even in the Saint-Antoine district: police officers patrolling the streets.

There was still some time before the factory opened, so everyone took the opportunity to have a quick meal. Félix walked over and noticed that the workers were eating the same black bread, seemingly mixed with various other ingredients. However, the portions were larger than what the workers in England ate, and there were hardly any children among them.

This discovery raised Félix's opinion of France once more.

At that moment, a police officer arrived at the inn where Félix was staying and inspected the guest register.

"An Englishman staying here?" The police officer immediately noticed the entry about Félix. He then summoned the innkeeper and questioned him thoroughly, instructing the innkeeper to act as if nothing was amiss.

"Officer, do you think this Englishman might be a technical thief here to steal our secrets?" The innkeeper inquired. In the recent past, the police had arrested quite a few such thieves—some from England, Austria, and others coming from French allies like Spain, Northern Italy, and the Rhine Confederation. Of course, the majority were former employees of other French enterprises.

"I don't know, maybe, maybe not. Anyway, keep an eye on him. But... if he really is... he's just registered his own nationality and didn't even bother to create fake identification. He's most likely an inept thief," the police officer chuckled.

Even if this "suspicious individual" was most likely not a thief, at most, he was just an "inept thief." According to the regulations, the incident still needed to be reported.

"Well, where did that Englishman go?" the police officer inquired.

"He just left a moment ago, but his belongings are still here. He's probably going to return," the innkeeper replied.

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