shadow of britain

Chapter 478: The Outrageous Assassination Plot
If there was a place in Paris that could rival London’s Regent Street, then Place Vendôme, designed by the famous French architect Jules Altheim-Mansart, would definitely be at the top of the list.

Baroque and neoclassical buildings are lined up here, and giants in the jewelry and high-end clothing industries are gathered here.

Here, everything from the simplest engagement ring to gold and silver jewelry that can be called a work of art, and even the honorary sword of the 'Immortal', a member of the French Academy, can be customized.

Among all these shops, the most eye-catching place is the Vaele Hotel.

As the most upscale restaurant in Paris, guests here can not only enjoy the scenery of Place Vendôme, but can even catch a glimpse of the Paris Opera House and the Louvre not far away.

Such a unique geographical location naturally attracted many dignitaries and literati to the Vaele Hotel.

Chopin liked the food in this restaurant very much, so he often came here to eat. Of course, he often came here not only because the food here is delicious, but also because the Vaele Hotel is very close to his home, he lived in an apartment at 12 Place Vendôme.

Of course, the regular guests of the Waele Hotel include not only great pianists such as Chopin and Liszt, but it is also highly regarded by the German nationalist Jewish poet Heinrich Heine.

For example, he was currently sitting on the second floor of the Vaele Hotel with a new friend from Denmark.

Considering that Heine ate at places like this every now and then, it's not surprising that he racked up so many 1000-franc bills.

Heine took the menu from the waiter, ordered two dishes he liked, and handed it to Andersen who was sitting opposite him: "Hans, is there anything you like to eat? Our big sponsor said that you can order whatever you want. Today's meal will be charged to his account."

Andersen took the menu and glanced at the dazzling numbers on it. He felt like his heart was about to jump out.

He smiled uncomfortably and nodded politely to the waiter, "Order these first. We haven't all arrived yet. I'll call you if you need anything later."

Seeing how cautious he was, Heine smiled cordially and said, "Hans, you said at the European Literary Society's gathering the day before yesterday that the person you wanted to meet most in the world was me. But if you were really so interested in me, why didn't you come to see me earlier?"

"I...I can't do it."

Andersen smiled shyly: "You are so proficient in poetry. If an unknown young man like me from an unknown small village in Denmark came to you and introduced myself as a poet, you would definitely think it was too dramatic. I also know that if I meet you, my clumsy behavior will make you laugh, or make you laugh at me, which will be very embarrassing for me. I admire you so much that I would rather not meet you than leave a bad impression on you."

"how could be?"

Heine took the red wine glass from the waiter and said, "You are talented and hardworking. It is only a matter of time before you become famous. It is also an honor for me to know you when you were unknown. By the way, have you visited Lamartine, Vigny, Dumas and Hugo since you came to Paris?"

Andersen said, "I visited Mr. Hugo. The Hunchback of Notre Dame is the first book I have read in its original French version. I read the book while walking through the corridors of Notre Dame. The meticulous descriptions combined with the solemn scenes in the cathedral gave me a very wonderful feeling. So, I think since I have read his book, it is natural to visit the original author."

Heine took a sip of wine and said, "You have chosen the right person. Among the romantic writers in Paris, Hugo and Dumas are the most enthusiastic. They welcome all young people who are determined to go a long way in literature with open arms."

Andersen agreed sheepishly, "You're right, Mr. Hugo is really very enthusiastic. He lives on the corner of the Royal Square. When I visited him that morning, he opened the door for me in his pajamas and bloomers, wearing a pair of slippers on his feet. Before leaving, I shamelessly asked him to sign a piece of paper for me. Look, I still have that signature with me."

After saying this, Andersen took out a small wooden box from his jacket pocket, opened the lid and took out the signature paper that he treasured.

Andersen continued with a smile: "And the cheerful Mr. Dumas, you introduced me to him the day before yesterday, and I went to visit him at the Prince Hotel on Richelieu Street at noon. But I really didn't expect that even after noon, Mr. Dumas was still lying in bed. He was lying on the head of the bed, with two pillows under his chin, and holding a pen in his hand, writing.

He saw me and greeted me enthusiastically: "Wait a moment, the Muse has arrived and will leave soon." He continued to write, muttering something loudly. After a while, he shouted "Hurray!" and jumped out of the bed, shaking the manuscript in his hand triumphantly at me and said: "The third act is finished."

After that, he took me to several theaters, we watched two plays, and then he took me to visit the backstage of St. Martin's Theater. There were many people backstage, including stage machine operators, chorus girls, ballet dancers, etc. Everyone greeted Mr. Dumas enthusiastically when they saw him coming.

Mr. Dumas responded with a smile while leading me through the crowded crowd. He wanted to introduce me to a few actresses, but I was too embarrassed to do so, so I politely declined, saying that I was too tired today.

Heine heard Andersen's description and said with a smile: "Hans, it's not that you don't want to see actresses, you just didn't see the one you liked the most. Let me guess, which actress in Paris do you like the most... Um... Ida Ferrier? Marie Dorval? Or Juliette Drouet?"

Hearing this, Andersen quickly waved his hands and said, "Mr. Heine, you are joking. Whether I like them or not, it does not affect the fact that these three are the best actresses in Paris at the moment."

Heine winked at Andersen and said, "Hans, Mr. Dumas took you around the theater for half a day, but you didn't even learn a bit of his charm. Do you know what Alexander said when he first met Miss Ida Ferrier?"

"What did he say?"

Heine imitated Dumas' emphasis, holding his scarf in one hand and raising the other hand slightly, and said: "You may believe that daffodils are white, snow is white, and albatrosses are white. Ah, no! There is only one thing in the world that is white, and that is Mademoiselle Ida Ferrier's hand."

As soon as Heine finished speaking, he felt something pressing on his shoulders. "Heinrich, what are you talking about here to our friends?"

Heine turned his head and saw the smiling Alexandre Dumas and their big money sponsor Sir Arthur Hastings.

Dumas did not understand German, so naturally he could not understand what Heine and Andersen had just said in German.

But Arthur, who was the second secretary of the British Embassy in the Kingdom of Hanover and had already learned some German, understood most of it.

But even if Arthur understood, he would not say anything, because he wanted to hear whether Heine was plotting against him behind his back.

There's nothing you can do about it, these German Jews are just too talkative sometimes.

Heine saw his two friends coming and quickly stood up to introduce Andersen, "Mr. Dumas, you have met him before, so I will introduce this person to you directly. Sir Arthur Hastings, a noble London pianist, assistant to Michael Faraday, former senior police officer of the Royal Metropolitan Police, and a part-time writer for a tabloid as a hobby. By the way, Arthur, is your "Hastings Mysteries" published in German? If so, you can give Hans a copy."

Arthur took off his hat and coat and handed them to the waiter beside him. He shook hands with Andersen in a friendly manner: "Nice to meet you, Mr. Andersen. I grew up reading your books. Can you sign them for me later?"

Andersen was extremely embarrassed by Arthur's words. He thought Arthur was mocking him: "Sir, I am just a little writer from the Danish countryside."

Dumas put his arm around Andersen's shoulders and sat down. "Hans, don't take his words to heart. Arthur likes to joke. Since he was shot at the bottom of the Tower of London, he has two more bad intentions. But he is not always so bad. At least when it comes to settling royalties, The Englishman is still very trustworthy."

Arthur sat down and did not get straight to the point. Instead, he pointed to the layers of scaffolding and busy workers in the square outside the window and asked, "Do you know what they are doing?"

"That?" Heine asked, "Didn't you read the newspaper? The French government plans to bring back Napoleon's coffin from overseas, and at the same time recognize all of Napoleon's achievements. The scaffolding on the Place Vendôme is in preparation for the erection of a monument to Napoleon. They said the monument must be erected before July this year, so they are rushing to complete the construction."

"Erect a monument to Napoleon?" Arthur lit his pipe. "Louis Philippe has really tried his best to please the people. The French should be happy now, right?"

Heine scoffed at this and said, "That's not necessarily true. Hans, do you remember the old lady we met under the scaffolding just now?"

"Old lady?" Arthur looked at Andersen and asked, "Is there anything different about her?"

Andersen said helplessly: "Mr. Heine and I were looking at the monument next to the scaffolding. Maybe the old lady saw that Mr. Heine and I were foreigners, so she walked towards us and laughed neurotically: 'The monument is erected here today, and it will be knocked down tomorrow. Hahaha! I understand the French.'"

Dumas, who was ordering food, did not refute what he said: "To some extent, she is right. I can guarantee that when the monument to Napoleon is unveiled on July Day, some people in the crowd will shout "Long live" and others will shout "Down with him". This is basically a traditional program in Paris."

When Arthur heard this, he thought back to the royalist assassin that night.

He raised his glass and asked softly, "After you and Mr. Vidocq took the assassins to the Grand Paris Police Headquarters that night, did they confess?"

Dumas closed the menu, rubbed his temples and recalled: "I heard from Mr. Victor that the guy did not admit his crime at first, but he did not hold out for long. He confessed everything the next morning. He said that he was instructed by the royalists to attack the Kedau Palace. Based on his confession, the Greater Paris Police raided two royalist hideouts and arrested more than a dozen of his accomplices.

At first, the Grand Paris Police thought that was all, but later the Austrian ambassador provided the police with information that the assassination was related to "Young Italy". Austrian Prime Minister Metternich seemed to be very gloating about the assassination of Louis Philippe, because he had previously warned the French government not to accommodate exiled Italians, but Louis Philippe ignored his words.

Mr. Vidocq said that the Austrian ambassador's sarcastic tone almost irritated the Paris Police Chief, Rissocquet. So, Rissocquet interrogated the newly captured royalist assassins overnight. The result was that the Paris Police found that the royalists seemed to be working with Young Italy.

Arthur drank his wine calmly.

Royalists?
Young Italy?
How come he didn't know about this?
The retired senior police officer from Scotland Yard was amazed by the efficiency of the Greater Paris Police. Arthur had never imagined that the Paris police could investigate cases to such an extent.

It was obvious that they didn't even catch the real assassin, but they were able to deduce a transnational assassination case based on the confession of the fake assassin.

Arthur asked, "Alexander, don't you know Mazzini from Young Italy? Could it be that he and his little brothers are really involved in this case?"

Dumas spread his hands and said, "Who knows? Mazzini and I only met once. However, the goal of Young Italy is to overthrow the autocratic rule of the Papal States. Why they are mixed up with the French royalists, I really don't understand..."

Heine seemed to have remembered something when he heard this. He clapped his hands and said, "Could it be that Young Italy received sponsorship from the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies? The royal family of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies is also a branch of the Bourbon. From this perspective, it doesn't seem surprising that they are mixed with the orthodox faction."

(End of this chapter)