Chapter 1696 - 1602: Mr. Charlie’s Courage

Chapter 1696: Chapter 1602: Mr. Charlie’s Courage

July 23, 1802.

Milan.

Selvelli Palace.

Charles, dressed in opulent ceremonial attire, was delivering a closing speech at the "Mediterranean Silk Exhibition". Amidst the crowd in the hall, a young man squeezed in and bowed to him.

Charles immediately skipped a large section, concluded hastily, and then quickly moved to a quiet spot by the door.

The young man followed, bowed again, and whispered, "Your Highness, my father asked me to tell you that Archbishop Consalvi has accepted the money and issued five passes."

As he spoke, he hung his head, "It’s just that your friends still refuse to leave Rome."

The smile on Charles’s face suddenly turned into anxiety, "Are they crazy? They’ll die if they don’t leave!"

Not long ago, when he received news from the French envoy in Milan about Naples sending troops to Rome, he sensed something was wrong. So, he immediately had his friend Baron Belgerlon in Siena take two hundred thousand francs to Rome, hoping to rescue Josiah and several high-ranking members of the Free Rome Party.

He had done everything he could, but he didn’t expect them to refuse to escape.

The son of Baron Belgerlon appeared somewhat apprehensive, "Your Highness, your friends said, ’Their hearts will only beat with the Romans’ revolution.’"

He truly didn’t know how to bring up the matter of the Revolutionary Party in front of the Prince of France—he himself didn’t like those people, but Prince Charles seemed to care about them greatly.

Charles asked a few more questions about the situation in Rome, dismissed the young man, feeling as if his heart was in turmoil, like a mouse gnawing and scratching inside.

He thought of the Free Rome Party members with whom he had once planned the uprising in Rome, wondering when they would be torn apart by the bullets of Neapolitan soldiers.

Especially that slender yet resilient figure, always full of revolutionary zeal.

Is she still alive?

No, I’ve done all I can, Charles shook his head, trying not to think of her, yet surprisingly another woman emerged in his mind.

A Prussian woman he once loved enough to give up his soul.

He clasped his fingers tightly, his knuckles turning a bit blue.

Louise was filled with deceit and malice, yet he followed her words to the letter, even handing over shares worth millions of francs without hesitation.

And that upright girl, Josiah, never considered her own interests; everything she did was to fight for the survival and freedom of the Romans.

She never tried to get close to him or seduce him because of his status or wealth, unlike all the young women he had encountered. She even always maintained a man’s attire.

Yet when she was in danger, he merely said offhandedly, "I’ve done all I can"...

Charles suddenly felt how pathetic and cowardly he truly was.

"I must do something!" He took a deep breath and turned to the Captain of the Guard, "Prepare the carriage, I need to go... to Parma, to see my sister."

Rosh quickly stepped forward to remind him, "Your Highness, you still have to attend the dinner hosted by the Speaker of Milan later."

"Tell him I’m not feeling well."

Soon, the convoy of the Prince of France left Selvelli Palace and headed east.

As the carriage drove out of Milan, Charles immediately instructed Rosh, "Turn south; we’ll first go to Genoa Port."

"Genoa? Why do you..."

Charles said in a deep voice, "Then take a boat from there to Rome."

This was the fastest way from Milan to Rome—it took two days to reach Genoa, and then two and a half days to sail the Mediterranean Sea to Rome. The entire journey took four and a half days, which was nearly half the time required by land routes.

He didn’t know how long the rebel army could hold out, so he had to race against time.

Rosh was startled, quickly stopping him, "Your Highness, you cannot... by the way, the Regent King ordered you to return to Paris by the end of the month."

When Charles heard about his brother, the determination in his eyes wavered a bit, but he soon clenched his fists again and said, "My brother will forgive me. And right now, I must go to Rome to save Josiah... as well as Mr. Sorendino and Mr. Severino!"

He raised his hand to stop the Captain of the Guard from persuading him further and asked, "How much money can I withdraw from the bank in Genoa?"

The prince’s personal accountant quickly provided a reply—ten thousand francs could be withdrawn in Genoa that day, and through the European Settlement Bank, an additional fifty-four thousand francs could be obtained within two days.

Over the years, Charles had made some money through the Iroquois Treasures Company, but most of his assets were in France.

If it wasn’t needed so urgently, many nobles and bankers in Northern Italy would be willing to lend money to the Prince of France.

Charles instructed, "Prepare two hundred thousand francs first; it should be enough. Buy a steamship in Genoa; preferably set sail the morning after tomorrow."

Four days later.

Baron Belgerlon watched anxiously as the silhouette of Prince Charles, disguised as a monk, disappeared in West Rome, his palms sweaty.

He didn’t expect His Highness the Prince to be so "reckless".

It wasn’t difficult to send someone into the city, especially since Prince Charles was willing to spend money; he even "persuaded" Genoese officers with two thousand francs to pause the offensive against the rebels for a day.

But after all, this was a battlefield, and God knows what could happen.

He only hoped that His Highness Prince Charles could quickly and safely get his friends out, otherwise, if something went wrong, the Regent of France would certainly throw him into the Mediterranean to feed the fish.

...

Near the east bank of the Tiber River at Saint Sabina Temple Cathedral.

This place used to be the Dominican General Monastery, where usually only the archbishop and high-ranking clerics entered and exited, but at this time, it had become the command center of the Citizen Guard.

A monk in a gray robe walked in, took off his hood, and looked at the weary rebel army officers around him, asking, "Excuse me, where is Mr. Josh?"

The few people in front turned their heads and suddenly froze.

"It’s Mr. Charlie!"

Among them, a person wearing a lieutenant’s armband suddenly shouted.

Everyone in the cathedral stopped what they were doing and looked over at Charles, their eyes shining like people who had been adrift at sea for months finally spotting land.

"Oh God, it really is Mr. Charlie."

"Thank Jesus, he’s back!"

"Mr. Charlie is back!"

From the barracks and offices, people rushed out, enclosing Charles tightly.

Soon after, Charles heard the voice he most wanted to hear, "Mr. Charlie, it really is you."

Charles’s heart relaxed as he stepped quickly toward Josiah, but saw the girl in a black men’s coat turn to the crowd and wave, saying, "I told you, Mr. Charlie did not abandon us!"

She excitedly tugged at Charles, "Where have you been all this time? The outside is filled with Neapolitan troops, how did you get in? You weren’t injured, were you?"

Charles looked at her concerned and happy expression, just nodding repeatedly, with only one thought in his heart: luckily, I mustered the courage to return.

Severino, dressed in a military uniform, also squeezed over, loudly saying, "With Mr. Charlie here, we’ll surely regain victory."

In a short time, two or three hundred people had gathered around, shouting along, "Yes, Mr. Charlie will lead us to defeat the enemy!"

"Show those Neapolitans what’s what!"

"Just tell us how to fight, I’ll be at the forefront."

"Long live Mr. Charlie!"

Charles looked at the excited rebels, momentarily recalling how, back in Karlsruhe, his brother was surrounded, revered, and trusted by countless soldiers.

At this moment, he felt just like his brother did back then.

(Apologies for not finishing, will update as soon as possible tomorrow.)