The Fox of France - Chapter 338: The Passenger

Early that morning, young François left home, ready for school. The school wasn’t far from François’s house, and usually, he didn’t need to leave so early.

But things had changed recently. The road to school was closed due to construction of a railway. Now, wire fences stood tall, and soldiers in sharp uniforms patrolled, preventing mischievous kids like François from sneaking in through the drainage ditches under the wires.

Signs hung on these fences, their words unclear to François. According to Huaxite, two grades above him, the government was building a railway and, for safety, restricted access.

To facilitate passage, the government made some openings. However, reaching these openings required a lengthy detour.

François, a mischievous lad, wasn’t keen on the longer route. As soon as the road closed, he’d slip under the wire when the patrolling soldiers were distant.

He easily passed through the wire but, in clambering out of the ditch, his bag snagged. The patrolling soldiers turned back at that moment.

Losing the bag wasn’t an option. It was meticulously sewn by his mother from scraps accumulated over years. If lost, schooling would be impossible and a certain punishment awaited him at home.

François was caught, bag and all. A tall soldier rummaged through his bag, finding his name and school. The soldier took François to a policeman, who then escorted him to the school’s headmaster, Mr. Lamadong. François faced a stern lecture and was passed on to his class teacher, Mr. Pila, who kept him back after school for several rounds of written apologies until satisfied.

At home, his father easily discovered the truth and gave François another scolding. After that day, François never ventured under the wires again, choosing the longer but safer route.

From the openings, François observed the workers laying tracks. Initially digging a trench, they laid large stones, then smaller ones, leveling them. Another layer of gravel followed, forming a raised trapezoid.

Then came the wooden sleepers and steel rails. François relayed this to his father, who mused, “Those rails must be valuable. Police will likely increase patrols; foreigners might try stealing them.”

In school, during a science class with Mr. Duran, they read an article from “The Scientific Truth Gazette,” explaining the purpose of this railway and displaying an illustration of a smoking steam locomotive.

This class sparked François and his classmates’ interest in trains. Yet, despite passing by the construction daily, François never saw a steam train.

One morning, passing the crossing, François witnessed a fast-moving vehicle on the tracks—not the steam train depicted but a strange contraption with two people on a seesaw-like apparatus.

However, that day, the crossing was blocked by barriers and uniformed individuals. They announced the imminent arrival of a train and instructed everyone to wait.

Excitement surged among the crowd—the allure of novelty captivated them. François, exploiting his size, wiggled to the front.

“Where is it? Where?” François clutched his bag, fearing it’d snap while jostling. His eyes followed the gleaming rails, eagerly anticipating.

“There, there! See the smoke?” someone pointed.

François looked, spotting a moving plume in the distance.

“That’s the smoke from the steam engine!” François couldn’t resist boasting about what he’d learned in class, but nobody listened, all eyes fixated on the plume. Initially slow, it picked up speed, the rhythmic clatter of wheels and rails growing louder.

“Look! It’s here!” someone exclaimed.

The train appeared after a bend. As it approached the crossing, it slowed, the driver sounding the whistle.

“Whoo…”

The loud whistle startled everyone.

“Wow, that’s scarier than a hundred horses!” someone remarked.

“It’s… it’s magnificent!” another said.

The colossal machine, thundering with steel on steel, billowing steam and smoke, rushed past.

“It’s so long!”

“Like a giant snake!”

Behind the engine trailed freight cars, some with carriages, others mere flatbeds. The contents were elusive in the carriages, but the open cars flaunted various items, including cannons bound for the Freedom Palace exposition.

In a blink, the train was gone. Men in black uniforms removed the barriers, and life resumed.

Following that, people flocked to the rail lines daily, some artists even settling with easels and chairs, sketching. The railway became an unexpected Parisian spectacle.

Meanwhile, “The Scientific Truth Gazette” and other papers extensively covered the railway. In an exclusive, they interviewed the railway company’s managing director, Mr. Messier. He disclosed a secret—the primary use of this War God Square to Freedom Palace line wasn’t freight but passenger transport. The company would inaugurate the world’s first passenger train at the Second Freedom Palace Exhibition’s opening. Parisians could buy tickets and witness the grand event.

Regarding the much-anticipated fares, Messier stressed their commitment to serve the people without profit. Hence, prices would be reasonable, aiming only to cover costs. However, specifics were under consideration.

Since Messier didn’t reveal the exact fares, newspapers speculated wildly. Despite the company’s emphasis on affordability, certain reports exaggerated the operating costs, projecting higher prices. Although cheaper than renting a carriage, the impoverished had to bear the cost with some difficulty.

Later, Messier hinted that the fares would be lower than expected, “perfectly affordable for Parisian workers.” This was offset by pricing the luxurious compartments for the affluent.

“Our goal is to serve the masses without profiting,” Messier reiterated the company’s philosophy.