shadow of britain

Chapter 29 The Parish of St. Giles
The sun was setting at dusk, and the stars had just appeared in the light blue sky that hadn't yet darkened.

Arthur and Elder stood at the entrance of the Royal Theater in Drury Lane, West London, surrounded by high-class gentlemen and ladies in costumes.

The passing carriages blocked the road, Arthur and Elder were squeezed between the wide skirts of the pretty ladies and couldn't move, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of perfume.

They back to back moved a little bit outward, two steps forward, one step back, and occasionally turned their heads to look around, so as not to be pushed back by the crazy crowd, it looked like they were dancing flamenco.

Their weird behavior, coupled with the ordinary clothes they wear, will attract the eyes of the servants around them from time to time.

Arthur scolded: "Elder, what's the situation today? Has it been so congested in the past?"

Elder was also impatient, he was screaming and screaming under the ladies' high heels.

"Damn it! I know that tickets to the Royal Theater have always been hard to get, but it can't be like this? There must be some big artist coming to perform today. Look at this group of people, it's like sending out It's rushing in like crazy!"

Arthur sighed: "We shouldn't be going to see any play, even if we watch a play, don't go this way. If I knew it would be like this, I should go home after I have dinner with you at the pier."

Elder retorted: "I didn't arrange this fucking. Alas! Today is considered a blow. The Royal Theater is so blocked, those who can't buy tickets must not be willing to go back like this, and most of them will go to other theaters in the West End Going to the theater. Today is a waste of time."

As soon as Elder finished speaking, he saw Arthur raised his finger and shouted at the billboard at the entrance of the Royal Theater.

"Damn it! Elder! I know why it's so blocked today! Damn it, it's the violin master Niccolò Paganini from the Apennines who is performing at the Royal Theater today!"

"I don't care what he is! Even if he is the Russian Tsar Nikolai Pavlovich, he must let me out today!"

At this time in the past, Agares would always jump out and mock.

But today he stepped on Arthur's head with great interest and looked into the hall of the Royal Theater.

"Hey, Arthur! Look at those hands that can play the violin. How about you get me that?"

Arthur was squeezed so impatiently, he cursed: "I'll just get you two pork knuckles!"

Elder was deafened by the noisy environment, he yelled and asked, "Arthur, what did you say?"

Agares looked at them both with disgust: "You two guys who don't know how to appreciate music, this is art. Look at your vulgar looks, you are almost catching up with Barr.

Arthur, you just got paid two days ago. Isn't the inspector's weekly salary a pound fifteen shillings?Adding in the money for your refund of the boat ticket, you should be able to afford the tickets for the Royal Theater, right?Go and buy me one. "

Arthur said angrily: "You really dare to think! The Royal Theater usually sells for three to five pounds. Tonight is a solo by a master like Paganini. I think I can save enough money for half a year." Watch one."

Hearing this, Agares couldn't help but shake his head regretfully: "It's a pity, if you miss this time, you won't know when it will be next time."

Arthur and Elder struggled for a long time, and finally squeezed out of the turbulent crowd.

The two of them stood in the open space, bent over and kicked their knees, panting uncontrollably.

Elder said happily: "I almost thought I was going to be trampled to death by them."

Arthur waited until he was out of breath, then raised his head and pinched his waist and said, "Forget it, let's stop here today, I'm going home."

Elder was also disturbed. He waved goodbye and said: "Go slowly, I won't see you off. Wait until next time, and I will invite you to the theater next time."

After the two waved goodbye, Arthur walked eastward along the street.

I have to say that tonight, thanks to Paganini's performance, other nearby theaters are also doing very well.

In order to maintain order at the scene, even Scotland Yard sent a lot of police officers to watch and stand nearby, and police officers wearing civilized batons can be seen everywhere on the road.

In addition, there are many local sheriff teams hired by wealthy groups in the West End to patrol around.

The houses here are clean and stylish, the nights here are brightly lit, the roads here are wide and clean, the theaters here are full of people, and everything here seems to be in order.

Here, you rarely see dirty children, and it is difficult to find pickpockets with gleams in their eyes. Even mice that are not restrained by humans rarely visit here.

Looking at everything in front of him, Arthur couldn't help sighing with a pipe in his mouth: "It would be great if Greenwich was the same as here."

He strolled on the streets of the West End full of joy, feeling that everything in the future is full of hope.

But when he was about to cross Oxford Street, he stopped suddenly.

In front of him was the only dark island in the shining West End of London.

Other places in the West District are as bright as day, only the darkness in front of you will tell you that night has fallen.

That was St. Giles parish, and like a mildew on an apple, it seeped into the very bones of the West End, reminding the rich who lived there that there was such a thing as poverty.

The narrow and muddy streets are filled with the smell of excrement, and the small space is crowded with simple but tall houses arranged in a labyrinth.

It used to be a luxurious residence for those who had wealth, and its former glory can be seen from the reliefs and murals on the exterior walls of many houses.

But now, it's just a home for the homeless, the street, the wicked and the unfortunate.

The antique, plastered and muddy carvings on the stone carvings form an ingenious eerie feeling with the surrounding environment. Some walls have collapsed in half, but the gaps have been filled with broken stones and old newspapers picked up everywhere.

The gable, which appears to have originated in the late medieval period, has been broken beyond recognition, its surface damp and stained with London's harsh weather and toxic industrial fumes.

From the open door, one can vaguely see the dark stairwell inside, the plastered walls are full of black hand prints, the huge handrails and carved railings have been missing more than half, and the wind blows. It will make a creaking sound.

And through the light emitted by the flickering oil lamp hanging on the stairwell, you can also see a dirty and drunk man lying on the ground wearing a felt hat, with blood on his head, and sleeping soundly holding a wine bottle. , he must have just fallen down the stairs not long ago.

Arthur looked at everything in front of him, which reminded him of the East End of London where he worked.

Under the dark and cloudy night sky in St. Giles Parish, Arthur's face could not be seen clearly at all, only a glowing red pipe could be seen flickering in the pitch black environment.

The red dot hovered for a long time, and as a burst of thick smoke dissipated, he finally planned to leave.

But before he could take a step forward, he heard a sound of insults and beatings coming from his ears.

"Damn it! Give me your wallet!"

(End of this chapter)