shadow of britain

Chapter 595: The British Borers Who Moved

Russia is not a country, but a harsh trial. Every free thought and every heart that longs for independence is ruthlessly suppressed. The third game, the shadow of this empire, precisely reflects the nature of the Tsar - a monarch who fears the truth.

——Alexander Ivanovich Herzen

Dumas sat on the sofa with a smile on his face, listening to Herzen telling the story of Napoleon's expedition to Russia.

Although he liked listening to those grand war epics when he was young, for some reason, since he turned thirty, he has become more and more interested in trivial stories other than war records.

Perhaps because he had participated in the July Revolution in France and experienced the night of riots during the London Parliamentary Reform, Dumas finally began to recognize himself. Although his epic poems were magnificent, he felt that it would be difficult for him to leave his name in such a place.

Many, many years later, Mr. Alexandre Dumas' name may not appear in historical records, but his life story may be talked about with relish by young people like Herzen who have never seen the ups and downs of life, and become a character like "my uncle" or "my uncle".

Of course, this does not mean that he did not like heroes. He worshipped heroes all his life and was an out-and-out heroist. He also created many heroic characters in his novels.

only……

Compared to heroes who are born great, Dumas prefers outstanding leaders who come from common people.

A person who can stand firm in the storm, a person who climbs to the pinnacle of power with extraordinary courage and wisdom, a person who still holds on to faith and remains indomitable in desperate situations, a person who can reverse the tide of fate with his own strength, is also a great soul who dares to fight against destiny.

His faith is as strong as steel, and his determination is as unquenchable as fire.

He walks with determination and carries his ideals on his shoulders. Even if the road ahead is full of thorns, he will never take a step back.

He is a guide who lights the way for others, willing to be swallowed by the undercurrent but not giving up on saving others. He is the one who would rather fall into the abyss himself than let the flame of order continue...

When Dumas thought of this, he suddenly frowned. He always felt something was strange.

He was obviously thinking of General Napoleon, but the portrait of Napoleon in his mind inexplicably overlapped with a portrait that Mr. William Turner had painted for someone.

That ridiculous "icon" has now been given some kind of mystical meaning by the Royal Police of Scotland Yard, and is hung high at the most conspicuous entrance of the Royal Metropolitan Police Headquarters at 4 Whitehall Street.

In fact, at the beginning, these London police did not want to go that far, but the Fleet Street media's continuous and high-intensity "bombing" of Scotland Yard obviously annoyed them.

Due to the orders of the Home Office and the constraints of Parliament, they could not do anything to these British journalists. At such times, bringing up the legendary police officer Sir Arthur Hastings, who won the title of "Royal" for Scotland Yard, is undoubtedly the safest way to protest.

Yes, Scotland Yard did not admit their fault for opening fire, and there were many people in that place who missed their old boss Arthur Hastings.

At least when Arthur was there, their salary level increased by 25%. Even though the old officer was no longer there, he still cared about his old unit. Arthur even considered the new police uniforms for his old colleagues.

However, if these policemen were so fond of hanging portraits, Dumas suggested that the French and Russian policemen might also have one.

The French police hung up a portrait of Fouché, the Russian police hung up Benckendorff, and with the British Hastings, they completed the trio.

This is like the new novel he is preparing now, "The Three Musketeers". Maybe he should write a book someday called "The Three Original Spies".

Of course, compared to Fouché and Benckendorff, Dumas felt that Arthur could still be saved, and his attitude towards Arthur was the same as his attitude towards Napoleon.

The greatness of a nation should not be built on the ruins of other countries. Napoleon's conquest was a costly gamble, the stakes were other people's lives, but the gamble was his personal glory.

What is the difference between Arthur and Napoleon?

Perhaps he lacked a little talent than Napoleon, and his stage was not as big.

Is this a blessing or a misfortune?

Look at France now, and Russia now...

Maybe Arthur couldn't get up, which was more of a lucky thing for the British.

When Dumas thought of this, he suddenly found that the door of the box was gently pushed open. Standing outside the door was Mr. Hastings, who in his mind was closer to the title of "Little Napoleon" than Louis.

The two old friends looked at each other, and neither of them spoke in tacit understanding.

After the events of Young Italy, Dumas had become well acquainted with Arthur's ways of dealing with things. This fellow did like to pry into other people's affairs, but at least he was not like the French police who would put people in jail for anything they heard.

However, you can't trust him too much, otherwise you never know when he might shoot you in the back - if you are not his friend.

Young people are still venting their excess energy from adolescence, and after drinking a little, their excess self-awareness tends to increase.

Mr. Bertrand, the 'Light Sword', smashed the empty wine bottle. His messy shirt and tangled hair made him look very depressed. "You are Russians. Your Tsar killed so many people in Poland. But when you, the students of Moscow University, sympathize with Poland, you can win the favor of the Poles. But we, the German students, obviously treat Poland so well, but why don't the Poles like us Germans?"

Heine, who was sitting next to Dumas, crossed his legs and began to tease his juniors: "Oh, that's not hard to understand. You might as well ask, who likes us? Or why do people hate us?"

Bismarck, who returned with Arthur, was surprised when he heard this: "Why do people hate us?"

Heine made full use of his rich experience from traveling around Europe and counted on his fingers: "At least the countries neighboring us are like this, Italians, Danes, Swedes, Poles, Russians..."

When Herzen heard this, he quickly raised his hand and said, "The Russians don't hate you. At least I like you very much. You are a group of good friends."

Heine glanced at the guy and straightened his finger representing the Russians: "Okay, then apart from the Russians, you are an exception."

Dumas, who was sitting next to Heine, laughed and said, "The French and the British are also exceptions."

Heine nodded in agreement, but then he said, "Yes, France and Britain are exceptions, but do you know why they are exceptions?"

"why?"

"This is because the French are not afraid of the Germans, while the British look down on the Germans. The tragedy of Germany is that we are in a second-rate position politically, but we always want to play a first-rate role. Of course, I am not saying that the French national arrogance is good, but at least they can boast that France has shed blood for the progress of all mankind to a certain extent, while Germany has only shed a lot of ink. As for the British..." Heine's gaze turned to Arthur at the door. After hesitating for a moment, he decided to restrain himself a little: "The British look down on every country in the world equally. They even look down on their neighbors and themselves. Therefore, I have nothing to blame the British for. When it comes to blaming the British, British liberals have done more than other countries combined."

Heine stood up and prepared to leave, but Arthur wanted to keep him for a drink: "Heinrich, this is your readers' meeting. Are you, the protagonist, planning to leave so soon?"

"My readers' meeting?" Heine frowned, turned his head and asked, "Aren't Heine's books banned in Russia?"

"Heine's books?" Herzen was stunned for a moment. "Although they are not available on the market, as long as you want to get them, you can still get them. I secretly collected many of Heine's works. Even on the way to Leipzig, we were still reading his works."

Heine did not say much after hearing this. He just took off his hat and whispered: "The hope of Russia lies in you, young people."

"you are?"

"Heinrich Heine, thank you for liking my work."

After saying this, Heine smiled, then turned around and walked out, leaving a group of Russian students still in a daze.

Arthur stuck his head out and looked out the door, only to see Heine walking down the corridor without looking back and punching the air.

Seeing this, Arthur didn't want to destroy Heine's image in the students' minds, so he could only smile helplessly and shrug at the students, saying, "Don't mind it, Heinrich is just like that."

The Russian students finally came to their senses. They suppressed the excitement in their hearts, but the smiles on their faces while whispering betrayed their feelings.

"Heine, it's really Heine!"

"Oh my God! I...I didn't know it was him, damn it, I should have talked to him more!"

"Sasha, did you hear that? Heine said we are the hope of Russia!"

"Heine! Why is Heine here! Oh my God! It was the right decision to come to Leipzig to watch a play! Although the travel expenses are expensive, it is all worth it!"

Although Arthur knew that Heine had a reputation as a "young mentor", he was still surprised by the fanatical admiration of Russian students for him.

It cannot be said that there are no European poets of the same level as Heine, but in terms of popularity, it seems that no one of his contemporaries can match him.

Although to those who hate Heine, he is just a sharp-tongued firecracker.

But most young people seem to prefer Heine's sarcastic writing style, and they love such controversial figures the most.

Through Heine's mouth, they said everything they dared not say, and they said it fluently and eloquently.

"We should invite Heine to Russia. He could give a lecture at Moscow University!"

"I bet that's the craziest thing I've ever heard! What would Nikolai think of it?"

"Why should we care what Nicholas thinks? If we follow Nicholas's opinion, we shouldn't make friends with the Poles!"

"Speaking of Poles, does any of you know of any chance that dear Klitsky will come back?"

"Kritsky?"

When the name was mentioned, the students fell silent.

Dumas asked curiously, "Is there anything special about this person?"

Herzen forced a smile. "He was a Polish student in our department, who was studying abroad on government scholarship. However, at the end of last year, we found that he did not come to class one day, and he did not come the next day. We asked around for his whereabouts, and other government-funded students told us that someone knocked on his door at night, took him to the office, and then sent someone to take away his letters and personal belongings. The school also issued a gag order to the government-funded students, not allowing them to discuss the Krestsky incident. Everything ended just like that, and there was no news of him."

Others also echoed sadly: "What a good man he was! He was humble, with a hint of melancholy in his eyes. No one ever heard a harsh word come out of his mouth, but he never said a weak word either."

Ogarev, who was taciturn, suddenly spoke up: "Maybe that's why he disappeared. He was too honest to force others, nor did he want to be forced."

Someone whispered, "Were Kostenetsky, Korleiev, Antonovich and the others also arrested last semester?"

Herzen nodded slightly: "Someone broke into their residence at night, and Yurich said that he saw their names on the trial list of the Military Court."

"Then let's..."

Some people seemed to be hesitant to speak when they heard this, and everyone couldn't help but look at Ogarev.

Everyone knows that he might be the most dangerous person here.

"Is anything going to happen to you? I heard that the Moscow gendarmerie summoned you a while ago about Sungurov's matter?"

Ogarev said little, but he was much more stable than the others: "Don't worry, this is no big deal. When the call for donations for the exiled Sungurov was made, I was the leader, and the gendarmes could only use this as an excuse. I did not participate in the Sungurov group, so they cannot accuse us of treason. At most, they can accuse me of misconduct."

Herzen said with lingering fear: "You were too careless. We were not the only ones who donated money to Sungurov. Kireevsky also called for donations in his group. But he was more careful than us. He did not deliver the money personally. Instead, he gave the money to the city defense commander Staar and asked him to help pass it on. He was a kind old man. He did not refuse Kireevsky's request, and he was more tactful than us students. He burned the farewell letter with the donation list in front of Kireevsky. And you, my dear Ogarev, you delivered the money to the barracks yourself. You must have been summoned because you were discovered by the Third Bureau agents who were lying in ambush and monitoring nearby."

Ogarev comforted him, "Don't worry, Sasha, I'm very careful. They summoned me, but they have no evidence. I won't admit it, and they can't do anything to me."

Arthur saw the worried looks on the faces of these young people and felt that it would be a betrayal of his police ethics if he did not make good use of this atmosphere.

Especially since the great poet Heinrich Heine had laid a good foundation for him.

Arthur asked, "Do you know a fellow named Sergeevich Shubinsky?"

(End of this chapter)