Granville's estate

Louis dreamed of the school where he had studied and lived for 11 years.

The history of St. Etienne boarding school can be traced back to an aristocratic bishop in the seventeenth century. He founded the school to train theological talents that were urgently needed at that time, and at the same time solve their troubles for the nobles, so that the nobles did not need I have a headache about the way out of my son who has no inheritance rights.With the changes of the times, the school gradually began to accept students of civilian origin. In the storm of the Great Revolution more than 30 years ago, in order to survive the turbulent era, Saint-Etienne had to make some compromises and changes to the world. But it soon took back the rights it had taken away.In general, the marks of the old aristocratic era can be seen everywhere here, whether it is its cold gray stone building, or the living fossil-like rules and admonitions that are still operating in it from the seventeenth century to the present, if anyone It would be a wonderful venue to observe a specimen of a monarchy-era school.

This school is far away from the bustling big city, and only a small town has formed around it because of the needs of supplying school living materials.In the school, everything is available, classrooms, chapels, medical rooms, canteens, everything you can think of for student life can be found here.Students are sent here at the age of eight and cannot leave until they are 19, and their parents are often neither allowed nor willing to visit them.In order to keep these energetic boys away from the temptation of the outside world, a two-meter-high wall enclosed all these buildings and a small garden together in a huge courtyard. Without the permission of the school supervisor, no one can leave This courtyard goes outside.

In Saint-Etienne, the most popular place is undoubtedly the small shop that is open on Wednesdays and Sundays and sells all kinds of daily necessities. The students call it "Mrs. Walker's shop". The woman seemed to have never left behind the counter.But that woman is not called Mrs. Walker, she is just a maid in the shop, so who is the so-called Mrs. Walker?No one knows, just like no one knows what the origin of the so-called tradition is, the name has just been inherited.In Mrs. Walker's shop, you can find everything you need in a boarding school, from carelessly crafted pencil cases and inks of various colors, to sharp knives, and prayer books that have never been sold throughout the year , paper and pencils for writing, even marbles for games, earthenware pots for heating the rice the next day, feather claw pigeons that can be slaughtered and eaten, everything is available for children. Said that it is simply a treasure trove of Alibaba.

The most unpopular place is undoubtedly the confinement room in the corner of the courtyard. It is a row of three stone rooms, and each room can only fit the narrowest and shortest single bed. It is also difficult for cats to turn around in it.In addition to a wooden door opened at a height of one meter to bring food in, there is only one narrow window at the highest point in the entire confinement room, and it is impossible to touch it even if you step on the low bed .Because there is not enough sunlight for many years, the confinement room is extremely cold, mosquitoes are rampant, and there is a musty smell.Everyone is afraid to avoid here, and no one wants to be imprisoned by the supervisor to suffer.

Even after so many years, the shadows left by those cold confinement rooms with all kinds of terrible legends still exist on the students. Even if Louis knows that he is dreaming, he can still feel that he was still young at that time. The deep fear of being locked up there.

It was a winter afternoon, and the sun's rays fell feebly through the clouds in a corner of the small garden in Saint-Etienne, completely unable to bring warmth to the boy with maroon eyes squatting by the fence.

Twelve-year-old Louis du Farentin hid behind a linden tree covered with dead wisteria vines by the fence, and hid himself in the sparse weeds between the linden tree and the fence, as if this would make him feel better. The whole world can never find him again, so as to gain a little temporary sense of security.The poor little fellow, who had just cried at the intimidation of his classmates a year or two older than him, was now in a panic of impending doom—as children often do, Some things that seem unworthy of laughter to adults have become unsolvable disasters in the eyes of children who have not yet had the ability to control their own lives.

Students in Saint-Etienne are divided into four classes according to age, namely the youngest class, small class, middle class and senior class. Except for the youngest class which is two-year, the other classes are three-year. If the age of 12 is in a peasant family that regards children as their only free labor, it is already the age to do farm work and even the heavy work that adults need to do, but in St. In An School, this age can only stay in the small class.Only the students who are close to graduating in the big class will be regarded by the supervisor and teachers as adults who have the qualifications and ability to talk to them, and in the eyes of the teachers, the children in the smallest class and the small class are the ones who need strict discipline the most. The stage of developing good habits, so their discipline is sometimes stricter than that of the students in the big class.

Callister Duvas in the middle shift came out at this time.

To be precise, the first thing that appeared in front of Louis was an animal thrown in from outside the fence—a gray rabbit that looked like it had just been slaughtered, with fresh blood and dust on its fur. In the dream, Louis seemed to still be able to smell the stench of blood.The rabbit first hit the branch of the linden tree covered with dead vines, and then fell to the side of Louis. If the aim was not slightly off, it would definitely fall directly on Louis' head.

Louis, who was in a depressed mood, was startled by the rabbit that fell from the sky. He jumped up immediately after being greatly frightened. When he looked in the direction where the rabbit appeared, what he saw was climbing the fence from the outside. A boy with blue-green eyes and blond hair, wearing a Saint-Etienne uniform, came.

It took Louis a moment to recognize Callister Duvas from the class next door.

The boy named Callister jumped over the fence skillfully. It was obviously not the first time he had done something that violated the school rules, but it was obvious that he did not expect that there would be someone in such a remote place at this time. , I was stunned for a while.

The two people on the fence and under the fence just looked at each other for a long time. After realizing that there was only a student younger than him and not the teacher who was squatting here waiting to catch him, Callister spoke in a threatening tone Said to Louis: "Little guy, don't make a sound!"

"I didn't say anything."

Out of nowhere, the fierce Louis retorted aggrievedly.

Callister stepped on a branch and jumped off the fence, went to Louis and picked up the dead rabbit.He picked up the rabbit's ears like he would pick up a dry twig, not caring that the rabbit was already dirty.

"Don't tell other people about me, or I will make you look good."

This time Louis was even more wronged.

"I'm not a whistleblower who likes to make small reports!"

No matter how much they are taught that the authority of the teacher is supreme, the nature of children will still teach them that informers are disgusting existences, and no one wants to be called "a whistleblower" by everyone.

"Oh, it's best if you don't know how. This at least shows that your little head is still normal, and it hasn't been turned into a solid piece of wood by those old-fashioned stuffed with outdated education."

As Callister said, he carried the rabbit and walked along the wall towards the kitchen.

But after a few steps, he turned back again.

"Why are you here?"

Callister asked Louis, who was crouching in the shadow of the lime tree, in a very impatient tone.

"This is the time to take a nap. If you don't stay in the house and be an obedient baby, what are you doing here? Didn't Mr. Nadang give you a leather board?"

It was fine if he didn't say anything, but when he said it, tears began to accumulate in little Louis's maroon eyes, which were as beautiful as fine amber.

"Hey!"

Callister, who was standing across from him, looked like he was about to explode.

"Man, man, what's the point of crying like a little girl! If you dare to cry, I'll beat you!"

"I... I, I didn't cry!"

Louis sniffed and tried hard to hold back the tears, but to no avail.He fumbled in the pocket of his school uniform to get out the handkerchief, but found nothing, only to remember that he forgot the handkerchief in the dormitory when he sneaked out.

"Tsk, it's as if I bullied you, and I haven't done anything yet."

Callister took out a square handkerchief from his school uniform pocket with a look of disgust and threw it to Louis.

Unfortunately, perhaps because Callister himself didn't care too much, the handkerchief was already a little dirty, and the delicate lilies embroidered on the handkerchief should be white no matter how you look at it, but now it appears A hazy gray came out.

Louis was holding the handkerchief. His natural love of cleanliness made him unable to ignore the strange gray color, but it seemed impolite to just return it like this.

Fortunately, Callister's attention had been distracted by what he was holding in his other hand.

"What's the matter with your gloves, little one?"

Louis looked down at what he was holding in his hand. It was just an ordinary white wool glove. It was supposed to be suitable for a child of his age, but it was deformed because it was soaked in water and then dried. Shrunk into a ball, completely unusable.

In the eyes of the young Louis, this ruined wool glove was simply a notice to the cold and terrible confinement room. The reason for secretly crying in the garden.

"My... my gloves," thinking of being locked up in a confinement room with only bugs and mice as companions, little Louis could not help crying, "My gloves, they were made by Charlie and the others." broken."