Chapter Ninety-Four: No Refusal!

The leaves of the sycamore tree will fall in the fall, and the same is true for the chestnut tree, except that there are more squirrels on the tree and more broken chestnuts on the ground.

All this Descartes can only see through the window.

Winter in Paris was not kind to him, but he stubbornly opened the window, ready to let all the scenery outside pour into the house, and accompany him through this difficult day.

Bella sat under the window, rummaging through the chestnuts in the basket, and from time to time throwing out some of the broken ones, which fell to the ground and were soon picked up by the squirrels, who didn't care whether they were good or bad.

Mr. Descartes liked the soft chestnut boiled in sugar water, or rather, he could only eat this soft food now.

Mr. Descartes was not very rich, and the cost of living in three livres a month was not very tight or relaxed, but Bella was very clever, and she always managed to arrange Mr. Descartes' diet and daily life very well, and often had some surplus.

The location of the White House is actually not bad, and it is even more rare in Paris, compared to the poor area across the river, life on this side of the White House is safe and comfortable, and Bella would like to live here forever, but Monsieur Descartes seems to be dying.

When Bella thought of this, she was in a bad mood, raised her hand and touched her eyes, and wiped away some tears by the way.

She didn't want to go back to the vineyard to pick grapes, she hated the smell of rotting grapes in the vineyard, and she didn't like to be barefoot on the sticky must, and of course, the vulgar winemakers were the ones she hated.

"If only Mr. Descartes had been alive......"

Bella sniffled and sneezed heavily into the sun, and as a result, the basket fell to the ground, and the chestnuts inside were scattered on the ground. Seven or eight squirrels quickly ran down from the trees and stole her chestnuts.

Just while Bella was driving away the squirrels? A gentle voice sounded in his ears - "Excuse me? This is Descartes? The home of Mr. René Descartes? ”

Bella looked up and saw a gentle face? And two emerald-like eyes? She screamed and fell to the ground.

Someone who took off his three-cornered hat and clamped it under the ribs? Stretch out a hand with a black sheepskin glove to pull her up? Then he smiled and said, "Is this the home of Monsieur René Descartes?" ”

This person has a nice smile, like ...... Anyway, Bella can't describe it, her heart is beating hard.

"Yes, this is the home of René Descartes."

After someone said thank you? He took out a piece of paper with daisies on it from his bosom, handed it to Bella, and said, "Please be sure to deliver this document to Monsieur René Descartes." ”

Bella took the paperwork, and had a chance to look at the smiling man in front of her, dressed in a black cloak, and there were three black carriages on the street behind him.

The carriage door is engraved with a golden daisy motif? A squad of musketeers guarded the carriage, however, they did not have shoulder straps? It doesn't seem to belong to the king, nor to the cardinal.

"Wait a minute." Bella quickly slipped into the house.

Descartes was oblivious to things outside the house, he was enjoying the wonderful feeling of life passing a little bit, and this cruelty could be made to him as a coordinate, in the X-axis of time? With vitality as the Y-axis? The four quadrants represent the past, present, future, and – hell!

Human life can be placed on this coordinate to weigh good and evil, or weight, size, or the meaning of a person's life can be weighed and calculated in it.

Such a life is perfect and accurate, after all, mathematics itself is a sophisticated subject.

Bella, who was illiterate, hurried to Mr. Descartes' side and placed the paper in his hand.

Descartes glanced at the paperwork and said sarcastically: "I'm not dead yet, so why is there anyone who wants to inherit my property?" ”

Bella stammered, "They're just outside, and there are three wagons and a squad of musketeers." ”

Descartes frowned, reopened the paperwork and read it carefully, his eyes full of confusion.

"Bella, I have a daughter."

Bella said happily: "Congratulations sir, is she here to inherit your inheritance?" ”

Descartes gave Bella a strange look and said, "No, I'm going to inherit my daughter's inheritance, she died half a year ago." ”

"Huh?" Bella looked at the dying Monsieur Descartes and couldn't help but look out the window.

Descartes carefully looked at the document on one side, and also focused on the tax officer's insignia, yes, this is an official document, there is no possibility of falsification.

"It also says that I have a grandson, a granddaughter, a ten-year-old, a four-year-old, and I need to inherit the entire sixteen,000 livres until my grandson grows up. man, and then deliver it to him.

Bella, do I really have a daughter? And two grandchildren? ”

Bella's head was not very good when she heard about sixteen thousand livres, and she was even a little dizzy—oh my God, what a fortune!

"Bella, help me up, I want to see what the hell is going on."

Béla hurriedly helped Monsieur Descartes up, put on his shoes and hat, and wrapped him tightly in his cloak, and then moved towards the door step by step.

The gentleman with a nice smile, when he saw Mr. Descartes coming out, waved his three-cornered hat and said, "Good day, Mr. Descartes." ”

"Venetian?"

"Yes, Monsieur Descartes, I am Poncho Hals, magistrate of the Republic of Venice, and I have come to Paris to fulfill our promise to citizen Anna Descartes to send her two children, and her inheritance, to her last truster, the famous Monsieur de Descartes."

As he spoke, the sheriff, who called himself Ponjo Hals, clapped his hands, and the musketeers immediately opened the carriage, from which a blonde girl was carried out, and soon a boy of about ten years of age came out of the carriage.

Both children stared at the weakened Descartes in silence.

Descartes also looked at the two beautiful children in a daze, his lips trembling, and as for the dozen or so boxes that the sheriff had sent out of the carriage, he had no interest in looking at them more.

Watching the two children tremble, Descartes drew a cross on his chest and whispered, "God, how am I going to deal with it?" ”

"Sir, there are really a lot of livre......" Bella's voice trembled like leaves in the wind.

Mr. Descartes quickly settled down, looked at the sheriff and said, "Mr. sheriff, I don't even remember that I ever had a daughter. ”

"You are a noble man, Monsieur Descartes, and it is only logical that such a thing can only happen to a noble person like you, and if Anna Descartes, a citizen of Venice, was a poor man, we would suspect her of sin, but Madame Anna Descartes was a man of kindness, kindness, intelligence, and true retribution in Venice.

I don't think a person like him would recognize an unknown person as his father, let alone entrust his pair of treasures and all his family property to outsiders after her unfortunate death.

So, Mr. Descartes, you are undoubtedly the father of Madame Descartes, and at the same time, the maternal grandfather of these two children. ”

For the first time, the intelligent, wise Mr. Descartes felt himself in a fog......

So, he shook his head vigorously, looked at the two children who were deeply wary of him, and said, "Are you really my grandson?" ”

Little Descartes looked at old Descartes with the same vigilant gaze, and said cautiously: "Are you really the prodigal grandfather in my mother's mouth?" ”

"Prodigal? Perhaps! I don't even remember your grandmother's name, so what is it if it's not a prodigal? Old Descartes' wrinkled face suddenly appeared a rare red.

"Aurora! Hora Aurora! ”

Descartes looked up at the sun, trying to remember the name and what had happened between him and the woman with the beautiful name.

The Venetian magistrate smiled and said, "Congratulations, Monsieur Descartes, you have a brilliant grandson, a beautiful granddaughter, and I wish you a happy life." ”

With that, he took out a paper with fire paint, picked it open, and opened the envelope, and at the end of the envelope, he hoped that Mr. Descartes would use the seal.

"We are going to take six hundred livres as the cost of protecting these two children to France, and I hope Monsieur Descartes will understand that."

Under Bella's watchful gaze, the sheriff took six hundred livrres, and Descartes was stunned to remove the ring from his finger, and Bella, after taking it and roasting it on fire, left Mr. Descartes' seal on the fire paint.

The sheriff got the money and the receipt, and happily shook his three-cornered hat and said to Monsieur Descartes: "From now on, these two children will be handed over to you, and they have nothing to do with Venice." ”

Descartes watched the sheriff walk away with the musketeers, and suddenly remembered that he was dying, and tried to call out his hand to the sheriff to return, only to find that the men had already gone far on horseback.

"Are you my grandfather?"

Emily looked up at her grandfather with her arms around Descartes' legs.

Descartes' lips squirmed several times, and finally she smiled and said to Emily, "Yes, I am your grandfather." ”

"You don't want to die!"

Descartes looked at Emily's eyes as clean as moonlight, gritted his teeth, and said, "I can't die!" ”

Little Descartes also stepped forward and hugged Descartes' waist and whispered: "Please, don't die, if you die, we will be orphans." ”

Descartes didn't know why, as if there was a fire burning in his chest, reached out and put his arms around the two small bodies, choked up, "I won't die!" ”

The happiest person is undoubtedly Bella.

She carried the contents of the carriage into the house over and over again, especially when it came to carrying River, and she felt that she was so powerful that she could compare to the mythical Hercules Samson.

The two children walked a long way, and after a hurried little food, they fell asleep in one bed.

Descartes sat at the head of the bed and watched the two angelic children sleep soundly, and his spirits never were so strong.

After looking at the child for a long time, he went to the desk and sat down, spread out a piece of cotton paper, and wrote on it with a quill pen: "I dear Father De Mason, and the light of God has finally shone on me...... It's never been so intense for me to want to thank God......"