Margaret's Secret

Chapter 17 From Shanghai to Paris (9)
"Tell the story about you and him, I am willing to listen."

She was silent for a while, then said softly, "I first met him on the day Henry and I got married."

Lin Hai was taken aback. Could it be the same as the one in the movie?

Marguerite continued: "I know that in the streets and alleys of Paris, there are many different versions of stories about me and La Moore, but I am definitely not the person they imagined."

Lin Hai understood what she meant, as long as he looked into Margaret's eyes, he knew that she was definitely not the legendary slut.The love between her and La Mole was originally pure and noble, and there was no reason to doubt her chastity.He asked faintly: "Have you also experienced 'St. Bartholomew's Night'?"

"Yes, it was a night of bloody terror, and I'll never want to think about that night again."

"Did you and Larmor fall in love that night?"

"Maybe, the relationship between me and Lamor is very secret. Although my husband found out later, he didn't hold much resentment, because Henry and I were purely political marriages, and we didn't have any feelings at all. " Marguerite seemed to be hiding a lot, and quickly jumped to the end, "The one who actually ordered the arrest and execution of La Moore was actually my queen mother."

"Do you still remember the day Lamor was executed?" Lin Hai's heart also tightened, he knew that he might have touched Marguerite's sore spot, so he paused and said, "I'm sorry, you don't have to Said."

"Let me say - it was April 1574, 4, a day I will never forget, when Larmor was beheaded in a square in Paris. I was hiding in a small room near the square, and when I When I saw La Mole, he was already decapitated. I bought off the executioner and got La Mole’s beheaded head. On the streets of Paris in the dark night, I was wearing a long white dress and hugged my lover’s head. The head hurried past. When I came to the small church in the Montemar heights, my white skirt was already stained red by the blood of the head, and I felt countless ghosts floating around, singing dirges for us in the tomb, with my mouth in my mouth Tears buried heads in the chapel, and my heart was buried with Larmor."

After listening to this long spiritual monologue, Lin Hai felt that he had also arrived in Paris in 1574, his head had been cut off, and he was slowly walking through the dark and cold streets in the arms of Marguerite fluttering in white.

She let out a long breath, as if vomited more than 400 years of sadness: "Yes, my heart has died since that day, and the next day I was imprisoned in the secret room of the Louvre. 400 Years passed, I lost time and years, until now I met you again."

Lin Hai trembled and took half a step back: "No, I'm not your de la Mole, nor am I the Frenchman 400 years ago. I am me, and my name is Lin Hai!"

"Don't you really believe in fate? It was fate that made us meet. It was destined 400 years ago. We have to be separated for such a long time to meet again in this distant place."

Margaret slowly approached Lin Hai, her hands were so cold, like an octopus crawling out of the dark, tightly grasping Lin Hai.

Their faces were also getting closer, and each other's heartbeats could be heard in the silent room.

And the other's breath.

Getting closer……

Suddenly, the electric lights dimmed, and the room became pitch black.

Just when Lin Hai's heart was about to jump out, the lights suddenly turned on again, but turned off again within a few seconds.The electric light flickered on and off like a convulsion.

Margaret's face was sometimes illuminated by lights, and sometimes shrouded in darkness. Every time the light flickered, Lin Hai could detect the fear in her eyes.She leaned tightly next to Lin Hai, barely daring to open her eyes.

Lin Hai also stared at the electric light helplessly, the flickering light made him feel dizzy for a while, it looked like the voltage was unstable, this is also common in houses with aging wires, but at this moment he is more willing to believe in another One possibility—Nostradamus is coming.

Under the will-o'-the-wisp lights of the cemetery, Margaret tremblingly said the name: "Nostradamus."

Just when Lin Hai's heart was as heavy as lead, he suddenly heard a heavy knock on the door!
A ghost knocking on the door in the middle of the night?The sound in this dark night was so terrible that it almost broke his heart.

Margaret also raised her head and said, "Here he is!"

Their faces flickered under the light, like two frightened birds, while the knocking on the door continued, continuously, like the sound of the waves at night.This "sound of hell" gradually surrounded the entire old house, and it seemed to be coming from the windowpane, ceiling, and floor.

Lin Hai struggled to stand up, walked carefully behind the door, and put his ear against the door panel. The heavy knock on the door outside hit his eardrums violently... Who is the person outside the door?Or is there a human outside the door?
At this moment Margaret shouted loudly: "Don't open the door!"

He came to his senses all of a sudden, quickly moved the table over, firmly pressed it against the door, and then let the knocking on the door continue.

Margaret had already hid in his arms, and Lin Hai hugged her without any scruples. At this moment, they were all in extreme fear, especially Lin Hai didn't know whether he would die in the next minute.He only felt that Margaret's body was no longer cold, she was so hot and trembling, like hugging a frightened kitten, the long black hair stuck to the corner of his mouth, and a faint smell penetrated into his heart.

Is this the end of the world?Wouldn't it be romantic if two people died holding each other like this?Although there is no blood-stained head of La Moore, nor the lights of the dark night in Paris, Lin Hai seems to have glimpsed the truest eyes of Marguerite amidst the deep fear created by Nostradamus.

Under the ghostly flickering light, they looked into each other's eyes, which was the final confession of a dying person, without even a word, and then they closed their eyes in unison.

After more than ten minutes like this, the terrible knock on the door suddenly stopped, and the electric lights returned to normal.Like a drowning person who had just been rescued, Lin Hai slowly opened his eyes and took a few deep breaths, his forehead was covered with beads of sweat.

Margaret also opened her eyes. She stared blankly at the electric light above her head and the night outside the glass window, paused for a moment and said, "He's gone?"

Is Nostradamus gone?Lin Hai gently let go of Margaret, and he went to the back of the door and listened carefully to the movement outside. It seemed that there was no sound at all.

The air in the old house was still close to suffocation. He and Margaret didn't speak any more, they just looked at each other and waited for the moment when Nostradamus came again.

However, about half an hour later, the lights remained normal, and there was no sound from outside the door.Lin Hai finally relaxed, sat down on the chair and panted heavily.

But Margaret said coldly: "Nostradamus will come back."

This sentence immediately reminded Lin Hai, who knows when that ghost will come again?He stood up again, walked around the room a few times, and suddenly thought of the things he bought in the supermarket in the afternoon.

Lin Hai hurriedly took out the tapes and nails, first tapped the nails on the important positions of the windows with a hammer, which was equivalent to fixing the windows, and then sealed the gaps between the doors and windows with tapes.He didn't even spare the dormer windows in the attic. Those thick tapes almost covered the window panes, making it impossible to see the light outside clearly.Then he pushed the table behind the door, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't knock the door open.

In the end, even Lin Hai himself shook his head. He almost made the old house into a secret room, or more like a sealed ancient tomb.

Margaret smiled bitterly: "Do you want to bury us all here? If you can survive tonight, what will you do tomorrow?"

At this time, Lin Hai's spirit was about to collapse. He grabbed his hair and said, "Do we still have tomorrow?"

Margaret stopped talking, she lowered her head and said, "Go to bed early, I'm tired."

Ten minutes later, Lin Hai climbed to the attic. Looking at the dormer windows sealed with tape, he suddenly thought of the idiom "cocooning oneself".

It was already midnight, and he lay quietly on the small wooden bed. The terrible experience just now made him unable to fall asleep for a long time.

Lin Hai tried his best to calm himself down, temporarily forget the fear just now, and then reorganize everything that happened recently, how incredible it is, why did all this happen to him?

The scenes turned like movie scenes, and he remembered the attic he was in, the noon ten years ago, and the parchment found under the dormer window.

No, there is no such a coincidence in the world. The portrait of Margaret hanging here ten years ago and the parchment about the "Mystery of Louis IX" were all found in this attic, and these things are Grandpa stayed here, right?

Today he has discovered that his grandfather studied in Paris, France in the 30s, where he studied fine arts.The portrait of Margaret and the parchment are obviously related to French history, all of which point to his grandfather Lin Danqing.

Could it be related to my grandfather's experience of studying abroad in France?
If it really mattered, it might be Lin Hai's last straw, he immediately jumped up from the bed, gasping for breath in the dark attic.

He thought of the man far away in Paris.

I sent an E-mail there yesterday, I don’t know if I received it, I can’t wait until tomorrow morning, God doesn’t have much time for Lin Hai.

No, tell him now!
Lin Hai picked up his mobile phone, quickly found the writer's number, and pressed the dial key forcefully.

The radio waves flew out of the small attic in an instant, went straight to the distant starry sky, spanned tens of thousands of kilometers and countless countries, and reached the distant Paris...

The rain still didn't stop.

Looking at the rain in Paris in the early morning outside the window, I was so anxious that I couldn't waste the good spring here.So I made up my mind - to swim in Paris in the rain.

At nine o'clock in the morning, I took an umbrella and walked down the building. The fat female administrator knew me very well, and I greeted her with a few words of French I learned.

According to the instructions on the map, I took the subway and went straight to Place de la Concorde—Concorde Square.

Not far from the subway station, I saw the ancient square, silent in the drizzle.Because of the rain, there were not many tourists. I held an umbrella comfortably and strolled on Place de la Concorde, listening to the sound of drizzle beating on the umbrella surface. It would be nice if there were more beauties around me.

Concord Square was built in the era of Louis XV. During the Great Revolution, it was equivalent to Caishikou in Beijing. Louis XVI, Queen Mary, Madame Roland and Robespierre all went to the guillotine here.I can't help but think of Mrs. Roland's last words before she was executed: "O freedom, how many crimes have been committed in your name!"

Ever since I watched "The Phantom of the Louvre" starring the big beauty Sophie Marceau, I have been yearning for the ancient Egyptian obelisk in the Place de la Concorde - a gift from the Egyptian ruler Muhammad Ali to France in 1831.

The obelisk is really extraordinary, with hieroglyphs engraved all over it praising Ramses II.What do these words mean?When I saw this, I thought of parchment scrolls. All ancient texts that we cannot decipher are actually similar to ciphers.In a broad sense, human writing is originally a kind of code symbol, so what secrets are hidden behind these codes?Maybe it wasn't a secret originally, but it became a secret because of the passage of history.Louis IX also went to Egypt and served as a captive there for many years. Has he seen obelisks and pyramids?
It was already noon when I left the Place de la Concorde, so I ate something casually on the side of the road, and then I rushed to the French showcase—the Champs Elysées.

In fact, it is the section of the road from the Concorde Square to the Arc de Triomphe. The literal translation is "Elysee Garden Street", but I prefer the name "Champs Elysee", because these four characters are too full of classical poetry in Chinese.Finally, when I got to the door of LOUIS VUITTON, I realized that there was a long queue in the rain. Anyway, I didn’t buy foreign goods, so I just took a look and said goodbye.

When you walk to the west end of the Champs-Elysées, you will see the famous L'Arc de Triomphe—the Arc de Triomphe. From here, twelve streets radiate. It is said that the underground is the largest subway conversion hub in Paris.

Coming out of the Arc de Triomphe, while it was still early, I rushed to the Invalides in Paris non-stop, which is also the burial place of Napoleon. On May 1821, 5, Napoleon Bonaparte died in exile on the island of St. Helena. His body was transported back to China and buried in the Invalides in Paris, accompanied by his comrades in the invincible French Legion.

Under the dome of Les Invalides, I accompanied people from all over the world to pay respects to this figure who once shocked Europe.Napoleon's ashes were placed in six coffins made of different materials, with a red granite stone pier outside. Twelve statues of the goddess of victory stood above the sarcophagus, symbolizing the unity of the French people around the great hero.

Coming out of Les Invalides, the rain has almost stopped, and there are many homeless people at the gate. It seems that the world is not equal no matter where you go.Just in time, someone came over from the opposite side and bumped into me head-on. He quickly said: "Excusez-moi!"

I continued to walk a few steps forward, always feeling something was wrong, then I heard someone shout, I couldn't understand what it was, I saw a man sitting on the side of the road rushing towards the street, bumped into My guy was also running wild.

I hurriedly touched my pocket, and sure enough, the wallet was gone. It turned out that the person who bumped into me just now was a thief!I broke out in a cold sweat immediately, and quickly chased forward.And there was also a chase scene in front, the man who bumped into me ran in front, followed by a sloppy man, and I ran at the end.

Finally, I witnessed a scene of the French version of "Brave for Justice". The thief had already been pressed to the ground. "Brave for Justice" scolded him loudly and snatched my wallet from him.At this time, I also ran over, and the "brave man" turned around and stood up, and returned the wallet to my hand.

Only then did I see this good man's face clearly. I didn't expect that I knew him. It was the "French beggars" who gave me a broken umbrella that day under the bridge hole by the Seine.

The world is so small.

He also smiled, and gestured to me in that "unbearable" English, to the effect that he had already seen that the thief had malicious intentions, and the scene of the "three hands" happened to be in his eyes. He is from France. Promising young people naturally have to stand up and act bravely to maintain the tourism image of Paris.

Just as he was gesticulating like this, the thief took the opportunity to slip away with oil on his feet.But I have already checked my wallet, and there is nothing missing in it, [-] euros in cash plus a credit card, and more importantly, my passport.

Holding the hand of this brave young man from France, I really don't know what to say. It is a rare encounter to encounter a thief, and it is really fate to meet this hero of the beggar gang who helped him and found his lost wallet.

I stammered and asked him, "What's your name?"

He replied, "Jack."

The name, pronounced "Jack" in English, is "Jacques" in French, and many French men are called by this name.

Although both Jacques and I can't bear to "listen" in English, we seem to be able to understand each other's meaning very quickly.Jacques said another incomprehensible English, meaning that I still remember meeting you by the Seine, and now we are good friends.

That's how I made friends with a French gang of beggars.

I originally wanted to thank him and took out a euro bill from my wallet, but he smiled and refused to accept it. He is really the French version of Lei Feng.

After experiencing this thrilling experience, I left the Les Invalides in Paris, and became extremely careful, covering my clothes tightly so that the gentlemen on the beam could not get their hands on it.

I still took the subway back to the University of Voltaire, and finally got a seat. I stared around intently, looking at the person next to me who might be a thief.

Suddenly, my mobile phone rang, and the number displayed on the screen was actually Lin Hai's number.

Why did he call me?Is it in danger?

Although it was an expensive international call, I answered the call without hesitation.

Sure enough, it was Lin Hai's voice. He seemed very nervous from thousands of miles away, but his voice was very soft. It seemed that he was speaking in a low voice on purpose, and it was even more difficult to hear clearly in the Paris subway.I could only ask loudly: "Hey, Lin Hai, I have received your E-mail, and I know what happened to you. Now I live at the University of Voltaire in Paris, and I have given the parchment to Professor Orléans , They attach great importance to the contents of the sheepskin and are deciphering the text, so don't worry."

When I spoke loudly, I caught the attention of other people in the subway car. They watched me silently, and they seemed to be very curious about Chinese.

Lin Hai tremblingly said on the other end of the phone: "It's good that you are fine, I have been worried about you and the sheepskin. Let me tell you one more thing, Nostradamus may have found me, and he will probably kill me of."

I finally heard the last sentence clearly. Usually I would never be surprised when I make a phone call, but at this moment I couldn't help but shouted: "What nonsense are you talking about!"

"I'm not talking nonsense! Now Margaret is under my attic, and I have almost sealed up the old house. The ghost is really coming."

"Is this what you told me when you made an international call worth tens of dollars?"

(End of this chapter)