Life of Being a Crown Prince in France

Now, the Bank of France Reserve had become the major shareholder of the seven banks, including that of Marquis Ludo, and could inspect their accounts at any time.

Joseph recalled that a few months prior, a teenage girl had mentioned to him that several French banks had heavily invested in the British textile industry. He thus conveniently checked and, indeed, found that these seven banks were all on the list.

Upon hearing this, Marquis Ludo "swooshed" up from his chair.

He had been so frazzled by Necker's case that he had completely pushed the investments in England to the back of his mind!

Even the vagrants in Paris knew that France and England were at odds, with the British having seized France's colonies in India and North America. Currently, he was using French money to invest in England, which, if taken seriously, could almost be seen as treason.

Marquis Ludo wiped the cold sweat off his forehead and, staring at the tips of his shoes, said anxiously to the Crown Prince, "Your Highness, this, this is a mistake. I will immediately withdraw all the investments from England.

"Oh, and then pour them all into the industrial development fund!"

Joseph flipped through the documents in his hands and gestured for him to sit down, "Hm, a fixed annual interest of 15%, plus a share of the profits, will certainly yield more than 20%."

Marquis Ludo turned deathly pale with fright and was about to plead further when he heard the Crown Prince add, "No need to rush to retract such a good investment just yet, but it must be put to good use."

Marquis Ludo asked cautiously, "What do you mean by..."

Joseph gestured again for him to sit down, "There's no need to be so nervous.

"You and Count Capefield, among others, have invested more than 20 million livres in the British automatic loom industry, making you definitively the major shareholders.

"For such a substantial investment, it should only be reasonable for a shareholder to pay a visit to England to check on the operation, right?"

Marquis Ludo tremulously perched on the edge of his seat, nodding, "Yes, it's quite reasonable indeed."

"Very good," Joseph smiled, "I need you to go to England as a shareholder and bring me back a few of the latest automatic looms, along with some technicians familiar with the looms' structures, and also workers who know how to operate these machines."

Marquis Ludo's mouth fell open in shock, and after a long moment, he finally managed to stammer, "Are you, are you asking me to become an industrial spy?"

Joseph waved his hand dismissively, "That wouldn't be the proper way to put it. France has poured significant sums into England; it only makes sense to verify if the technology we've invested in is truly as advanced as claimed, right?

"Oh, I will send someone from the Police Affairs Department to accompany you. You only need to use your status as a shareholder to get a clear picture of the British factories' situation, and they will take care of the specifics."

Marquis Ludo, who had spent his lifetime counting money in his bank, was hesitant and struggling with the idea, but then he saw the Crown Prince's gaze turn icy.

Being caught messing with the British looms might land one in prison, at worst for a few years, and perhaps he could even bail himself out. However, if he did not go, he would enter the Bastille right now.

Marquis Ludo swallowed hard, resignedly nodding, "Alright, very well, Your Highness. I will head to England at once and make sure to bring back everything you desire!"

By the time he returned home with a heavy heart, the Count of Capefield and others had eagerly gathered around, asking what the matter was for the Crown Prince to seek him out.

Since Marquis Ludo was about to engage in industrial espionage, he naturally did not wish for too many to be privy to this, and so he brushed it off as a banking accounts issue.

The other banking magnates did not suspect a thing, instead pulling out their plan to solve Necker's problem, asking him to review it with them.

But Marquis Ludo's mind was completely preoccupied with the British looms, and he merely nodded distractedly.

...

Four days later, three inconspicuous carriages left the Bastille, drove a wide circle around Paris, and finally left the city under the cover of twilight from the eastern side.

And behind them, always at a distance, a man dressed as a postman followed on horseback, occasionally leaving a trail marker.

The three carriages eventually turned northeast, inside sat the Necker family.

He finally decided to take refuge in Lorraine, after all, it was closer to Switzerland, and his friends there might be able to take care of him.

The hot wind outside the carriage window blew on his face, making him feel unbearably irritable. His many years of hard work had come down to this, fleeing Paris like a rat in the dead of night.

It's all Carolina's damn fault! He clenched his teeth, vowing vehemently in his heart, "I swear, I will make you suffer even more than me!"

The following twilight, the convoy arrived in Sommedieue. The Police Affairs Department agent Lange, in charge of the escort, checked the time and saw they wouldn't make it to the next town, so he ordered his men to rest at the coaching inn at the town hall.

Once they settled Necker, Lange began playing cards with his subordinates in the outer room of the house.

Before long, a Police Affairs Department agent entered the room and whispered a few words in his ear.

Lange nodded, grabbed a bottle of wine from beside him, and began drinking with several men. Meanwhile, the agents responsible for guarding the back of the house also started to drink.

After nightfall, an old carriage stopped on the road opposite the Sommedieue town hall, from which several men dressed as merchants alighted.

The former "postman" immediately bowed his head and came over, whispering, "Good opportunity, those secret police are all drinking."

The "merchants" nodded, signaling to their fellows to grab their weapons from the carriage and climb over the town hall's eastern wall.

The street lamps had already been extinguished by the "postman", and the three "merchants" easily picked the main door lock and crept into the town hall.

These were experienced assassins, who silently found Necker's room and then saw the secret police, drunk and staggering.

The leader's face lit up with pleasure, lit a torch swiftly, and bypassed the guards, giving a signal to his comrades with his eyes.

The men drew their swords and gently opened the inner room door before rushing in and stabbing wildly at the bed where Necker was, over ten times, before stopping.

The leading assassin brought the torch close to the bed to confirm it was Necker, then immediately signaled to his men to retreat.

They hadn't expected that this mission, worth thirty thousand livres, would be completed so easily. Already thinking about how to enjoy this fortune, they stepped out of the town hall door.

"Wait!"

Suddenly, the lead man halted, his years of experience as an assassin alerting him to a hint of danger. Before they could react, dozens of torches suddenly flared to life around them.

Under the glow of the firelight, nothing but the dark muzzles of flintlock guns were visible.

...

Marquis of Ludo had not expected his operation to go so smoothly.

He arrived in England just two days ago and was enthusiastically led by a textile factory manager to visit the entire automatic loom industry.

Afterward, he spent a large sum of money to bribe two technicians responsible for maintaining the looms.

After preparations were made, a Police Affairs Department agent named Prosper led a team to steal an automatic loom overnight—fixed to a waterwheel and impossible to dismantle intact without professional technicians—and transported it through England's inland waterways to the Dover port, where a ship was already waiting.

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