Chapter 238: The Prophet
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Chapter 238: The Prophet
In a humble, run-down cottage in "Petticoat Lane," Oliver met with the leader, Fagin.
"Oliver, you're back... Hmm, what happened to your hand?" Fagin asked, setting aside a well-worn Bible with its pages turned.
"Ran into a blasted bobby, got a beating," Oliver nonchalantly replied.UpTodated novels on novel()bin(.)com
"Let me have a look," Fagin said.
Oliver extended his injured hand, and Fagin examined it, gently moving a few of his fingers.
"Oliver, your hand's hurt, but it's nothing serious. It should be better by tomorrow. That copper was surprisingly lenient if he only gave you a thrashing. Also, I've told you before not to call the police 'bobbies.' Get used to it; they'll notice you as soon as you speak like that."
"Boss, I know," Oliver replied, then proceeded to recount the day's events.
"Boss, I also found this book. I thought you might want to read it, so I brought it with me," after narrating the day's events, Oliver took out the book and handed it to Fagin.
"'Spartacus'?" Fagin received the book and started flipping through its pages.
"Boss, what's in this book?" Oliver asked.
Fagin had many children around him, and during their free time, he would tell them stories to pass the time.
"Ah, this is a script, telling the story of ancient Rome, thousands of years ago," Fagin replied.
Fagin initially thought it was just an ordinary hero's tale. However, the further he read, the more his heart raced, and the more excited he became.
"No wonder, no wonder..." Fagin couldn't help but say.
"Boss, what are you talking about? What do you mean, 'no wonder'?" Oliver asked.
"I mean, no wonder the British government wants to go to war with the French. If the French all share the ideas in this book, those lords must be scared out of their wits. But from what I see here, the French have many misunderstandings about God and religion. It's normal because both the Catholic Church and the Anglican Church have long since forsaken God."
"Oliver, do you remember when I told you about Jesus being tempted by the devil in the desert?" Fagin inquired.
"If they are still alive, I would still be called Colia," Fagin said.
The two men faced each other in silence for a while, and then Fagin spoke, "Jacques, are you the respectable man Oliver encountered? Hmm... How have you been all these years?"
"It's a long story," Jacques Golan found himself a small stool and sat down, unceremoniously. "In '88, I ran to France, the same trip you helped me with. I ended up in Paris and got a job in a theater, mostly doing minor roles. Sometimes, I still dabbled in our old profession. It was the same theater that staged the play you just saw."
"Later in that theater, I met many people who would become prominent figures. For example, the man who played Spartacus in that play you just watched. You might have heard of him."
"Yes, I've heard of him," Fagin nodded. "They describe those gentlemen as monsters who've escaped from hell."
"Many French people describe him the same way. But I'm his friend, even now," Jacques Golan said.
"Our friends, including ourselves, have all been labeled as such monsters," Fagin also laughed, feeling that this brother he hadn't seen in over a decade was still his kin.
"Afterward, the revolution in France began, and I joined in," Jacques Golan continued. "I watched those gentlemen panic, and I saw nobles, merchants, and the elites, one after another, led to the guillotine. Those were memorable times."
"But, later, the revolution faced setbacks. Well, Pastor Fagin once said, most struggles in the world end with the heroic and sincere people sacrificing themselves, while the sneaky ones steal their achievements. France's situation was somewhat similar. Though the three Bonaparte brothers aren't entirely sneaky—they are all capable individuals—they weren't the type willing to sacrifice for their ideals. They are heroes, but not saints."
"So, Jacques, what are you up to now?" Fagin asked.
"I'm quite prosperous now," Jacques Golan smiled, standing up and twirling before Fagin. "Do I look like a nobleman who deserves to be hanged? I'm currently the Second Secretary at the French Embassy in England. This position is enough for me to fraternize with those 'noblemen' whom we never used to be able to touch."
"Oh, a few days ago, I encountered that old dog O'Connor. He was the one who chased me so relentlessly that I had to escape to France. Now that old dog is even older, but his nose is still sharp. I recognized him at first sight, and he recognized me too. However, I was there to inquire about something, accompanied by a 'gentleman' they have to call a 'bigwig.' So, while he recognized me, he had to wag his tail humbly. It's truly... hahaha..."
"Since you've become such a big shot, what brings you to me?" Fagin asked.
"Of course, it's for the revolution," Jacques Golan answered without hesitation. "Fagin, you know that France and England have recently reached peace. But let me tell you, this peace is ultimately just a ceasefire. They're resting because they've fought themselves weary, but as long as those English nobles have a breath left, they'll want to kill us all. You've just seen 'Spartacus'; you should understand why."
Fagin nodded.
"Free people and despotic tyrants cannot coexist in the same world. One of them must fall. It's up to us to push the tide of revolution in England. When England's revolution needs a rest, we move on to other countries and incite more revolutions. Like waves, one country after another, from France to England, Italy, Austria, Germany, Poland, Russia, even Turkey, and back to France. We want the fire of revolution to burn worldwide, destroying both cathedrals and prisons. Each revolution breaks a bit of the chains on the people, until, in the end, we win complete freedom for the people."
Unlock exclusive early access to The Complete Novel (All the chapters) before anyone else by becoming a valued member of my Patreon community.
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Chapter 238: The Prophet
In a humble, run-down cottage in "Petticoat Lane," Oliver met with the leader, Fagin.
"Oliver, you're back... Hmm, what happened to your hand?" Fagin asked, setting aside a well-worn Bible with its pages turned.
"Ran into a blasted bobby, got a beating," Oliver nonchalantly replied.UpTodated novels on novel()bin(.)com
"Let me have a look," Fagin said.
Oliver extended his injured hand, and Fagin examined it, gently moving a few of his fingers.
"Oliver, your hand's hurt, but it's nothing serious. It should be better by tomorrow. That copper was surprisingly lenient if he only gave you a thrashing. Also, I've told you before not to call the police 'bobbies.' Get used to it; they'll notice you as soon as you speak like that."
"Boss, I know," Oliver replied, then proceeded to recount the day's events.
"Boss, I also found this book. I thought you might want to read it, so I brought it with me," after narrating the day's events, Oliver took out the book and handed it to Fagin.
"'Spartacus'?" Fagin received the book and started flipping through its pages.
"Boss, what's in this book?" Oliver asked.
Fagin had many children around him, and during their free time, he would tell them stories to pass the time.
"Ah, this is a script, telling the story of ancient Rome, thousands of years ago," Fagin replied.
Fagin initially thought it was just an ordinary hero's tale. However, the further he read, the more his heart raced, and the more excited he became.
"No wonder, no wonder..." Fagin couldn't help but say.
"Boss, what are you talking about? What do you mean, 'no wonder'?" Oliver asked.
"I mean, no wonder the British government wants to go to war with the French. If the French all share the ideas in this book, those lords must be scared out of their wits. But from what I see here, the French have many misunderstandings about God and religion. It's normal because both the Catholic Church and the Anglican Church have long since forsaken God."
"Oliver, do you remember when I told you about Jesus being tempted by the devil in the desert?" Fagin inquired.
"If they are still alive, I would still be called Colia," Fagin said.
The two men faced each other in silence for a while, and then Fagin spoke, "Jacques, are you the respectable man Oliver encountered? Hmm... How have you been all these years?"
"It's a long story," Jacques Golan found himself a small stool and sat down, unceremoniously. "In '88, I ran to France, the same trip you helped me with. I ended up in Paris and got a job in a theater, mostly doing minor roles. Sometimes, I still dabbled in our old profession. It was the same theater that staged the play you just saw."
"Later in that theater, I met many people who would become prominent figures. For example, the man who played Spartacus in that play you just watched. You might have heard of him."
"Yes, I've heard of him," Fagin nodded. "They describe those gentlemen as monsters who've escaped from hell."
"Many French people describe him the same way. But I'm his friend, even now," Jacques Golan said.
"Our friends, including ourselves, have all been labeled as such monsters," Fagin also laughed, feeling that this brother he hadn't seen in over a decade was still his kin.
"Afterward, the revolution in France began, and I joined in," Jacques Golan continued. "I watched those gentlemen panic, and I saw nobles, merchants, and the elites, one after another, led to the guillotine. Those were memorable times."
"But, later, the revolution faced setbacks. Well, Pastor Fagin once said, most struggles in the world end with the heroic and sincere people sacrificing themselves, while the sneaky ones steal their achievements. France's situation was somewhat similar. Though the three Bonaparte brothers aren't entirely sneaky—they are all capable individuals—they weren't the type willing to sacrifice for their ideals. They are heroes, but not saints."
"So, Jacques, what are you up to now?" Fagin asked.
"I'm quite prosperous now," Jacques Golan smiled, standing up and twirling before Fagin. "Do I look like a nobleman who deserves to be hanged? I'm currently the Second Secretary at the French Embassy in England. This position is enough for me to fraternize with those 'noblemen' whom we never used to be able to touch."
"Oh, a few days ago, I encountered that old dog O'Connor. He was the one who chased me so relentlessly that I had to escape to France. Now that old dog is even older, but his nose is still sharp. I recognized him at first sight, and he recognized me too. However, I was there to inquire about something, accompanied by a 'gentleman' they have to call a 'bigwig.' So, while he recognized me, he had to wag his tail humbly. It's truly... hahaha..."
"Since you've become such a big shot, what brings you to me?" Fagin asked.
"Of course, it's for the revolution," Jacques Golan answered without hesitation. "Fagin, you know that France and England have recently reached peace. But let me tell you, this peace is ultimately just a ceasefire. They're resting because they've fought themselves weary, but as long as those English nobles have a breath left, they'll want to kill us all. You've just seen 'Spartacus'; you should understand why."
Fagin nodded.
"Free people and despotic tyrants cannot coexist in the same world. One of them must fall. It's up to us to push the tide of revolution in England. When England's revolution needs a rest, we move on to other countries and incite more revolutions. Like waves, one country after another, from France to England, Italy, Austria, Germany, Poland, Russia, even Turkey, and back to France. We want the fire of revolution to burn worldwide, destroying both cathedrals and prisons. Each revolution breaks a bit of the chains on the people, until, in the end, we win complete freedom for the people."
Unlock exclusive early access to The Complete Novel (All the chapters) before anyone else by becoming a valued member of my Patreon community.
Chapter 238: The ProphetIn a humble, run-down cottage in "Petticoat Lane," Oliver met with the leader, Fagin."Oliver, you're back... Hmm, what happened to your hand?" Fagin asked, setting aside a well-worn Bible with its pages turned."Ran into a blasted bobby, got a beating," Oliver nonchalantly replied.UpTodated novels on novelbin.com"Let me have a look," Fagin said.Oliver extended his injured hand, and Fagin examined it, gently moving a few of his fingers."Oliver, your hand's hurt, but it's nothing serious. It should be better by tomorrow. That copper was surprisingly lenient if he only gave you a thrashing. Also, I've told you before not to call the police 'bobbies.' Get used to it; they'll notice you as soon as you speak like that.""Boss, I know," Oliver replied, then proceeded to recount the day's events."Boss, I also found this book. I thought you might want to read it, so I brought it with me," after narrating the day's events, Oliver took out the book and handed it to Fagin."'Spartacus'?" Fagin received the book and started flipping through its pages."Boss, what's in this book?" Oliver asked.Fagin had many children around him, and during their free time, he would tell them stories to pass the time."Ah, this is a script, telling the story of ancient Rome, thousands of years ago," Fagin replied.Fagin initially thought it was just an ordinary hero's tale. However, the further he read, the more his heart raced, and the more excited he became."No wonder, no wonder..." Fagin couldn't help but say."Boss, what are you talking about? What do you mean, 'no wonder'?" Oliver asked."I mean, no wonder the British government wants to go to war with the French. If the French all share the ideas in this book, those lords must be scared out of their wits. But from what I see here, the French have many misunderstandings about God and religion. It's normal because both the Catholic Church and the Anglican Church have long since forsaken God.""Oliver, do you remember when I told you about Jesus being tempted by the devil in the desert?" Fagin inquired."If they are still alive, I would still be called Colia," Fagin said.The two men faced each other in silence for a while, and then Fagin spoke, "Jacques, are you the respectable man Oliver encountered? Hmm... How have you been all these years?""It's a long story," Jacques Golan found himself a small stool and sat down, unceremoniously. "In '88, I ran to France, the same trip you helped me with. I ended up in Paris and got a job in a theater, mostly doing minor roles. Sometimes, I still dabbled in our old profession. It was the same theater that staged the play you just saw.""Later in that theater, I met many people who would become prominent figures. For example, the man who played Spartacus in that play you just watched. You might have heard of him.""Yes, I've heard of him," Fagin nodded. "They describe those gentlemen as monsters who've escaped from hell.""Many French people describe him the same way. But I'm his friend, even now," Jacques Golan said."Our friends, including ourselves, have all been labeled as such monsters," Fagin also laughed, feeling that this brother he hadn't seen in over a decade was still his kin."Afterward, the revolution in France began, and I joined in," Jacques Golan continued. "I watched those gentlemen panic, and I saw nobles, merchants, and the elites, one after another, led to the guillotine. Those were memorable times.""But, later, the revolution faced setbacks. Well, Pastor Fagin once said, most struggles in the world end with the heroic and sincere people sacrificing themselves, while the sneaky ones steal their achievements. France's situation was somewhat similar. Though the three Bonaparte brothers aren't entirely sneakythey are all capable individualsthey weren't the type willing to sacrifice for their ideals. They are heroes, but not saints.""So, Jacques, what are you up to now?" Fagin asked."I'm quite prosperous now," Jacques Golan smiled, standing up and twirling before Fagin. "Do I look like a nobleman who deserves to be hanged? I'm currently the Second Secretary at the French Embassy in England. This position is enough for me to fraternize with those 'noblemen' whom we never used to be able to touch.""Oh, a few days ago, I encountered that old dog O'Connor. He was the one who chased me so relentlessly that I had to escape to France. Now that old dog is even older, but his nose is still sharp. I recognized him at first sight, and he recognized me too. However, I was there to inquire about something, accompanied by a 'gentleman' they have to call a 'bigwig.' So, while he recognized me, he had to wag his tail humbly. It's truly... hahaha...""Since you've become such a big shot, what brings you to me?" Fagin asked."Of course, it's for the revolution," Jacques Golan answered without hesitation. "Fagin, you know that France and England have recently reached peace. But let me tell you, this peace is ultimately just a ceasefire. They're resting because they've fought themselves weary, but as long as those English nobles have a breath left, they'll want to kill us all. You've just seen 'Spartacus'; you should understand why."Fagin nodded."Free people and despotic tyrants cannot coexist in the same world. One of them must fall. It's up to us to push the tide of revolution in England. When England's revolution needs a rest, we move on to other countries and incite more revolutions. Like waves, one country after another, from France to England, Italy, Austria, Germany, Poland, Russia, even Turkey, and back to France. We want the fire of revolution to burn worldwide, destroying both cathedrals and prisons. Each revolution breaks a bit of the chains on the people, until, in the end, we win complete freedom for the people."Unlock exclusive early access to The Complete Novel All the chapters before anyone else by becoming a valued member of my Patreon community.
