shadow of britain

Chapter 495 National Actor

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.

-Shakespeare

Acting is an art, and politics is also an art, and the two are similar in many ways. An average actor is called an actor, and a good actor is called an artist. Similarly, an average actor is called a politician, and a good actor is called a politician. The biggest difference between acting and politics is that, although the latter is usually not as professional as the former, you have to pay for their performance.

—Arthur Hastings

Arthur vividly described to Louis his non-existent miraculous encounter with Clara.

In Arthur's words, Clara became a genuine Bohemian girl, a gypsy witch who mastered the power of the crystal ball.

Not only did she reveal Arthur's true identity, but she also predicted that Arthur had just been assassinated not long ago.

With Sir Hastings' exaggerated introduction, Louis went from being completely unconvinced at first to being half-believing and half-doubting.

It is true that these Gypsies from Bohemia suffered discrimination throughout Europe, but due to long-term social prejudice, exclusion and legal persecution, most people knew little about this ethnic group. The public generally believed that they were thieves, liars and vagrants, and tried to avoid contact with them.

But on the other hand, Gypsy women's ability to divine, predict and cast spells makes them mysterious among the people.

Many people believed that Gypsy witches could predict the future, cure illnesses, or cast curses, so their presence was both awe-inspiring and frightening.

This is true even for royal nobles like Louis who have long lived in the self-proclaimed civilized upper class.

"Is she really that accurate?" Louis guessed, "Arthur, maybe she has been targeting you for a long time. She investigated you in advance, so she knows your background very well."

"I can't completely rule out this possibility."

Arthur smiled and blinked. "Because I found that although this woman knew that I used to be a police officer, she didn't know what position I held. But compared to her investigating me, I would rather believe that she has mastered some skills in judging people."

"Skills in reading people?"

When Louis was reminded by Arthur, he immediately remembered some interesting things that happened when he followed Arthur to solve cases in the past.

"Like you? You can often guess what someone does for a living just by looking at them."

"That's right. Each profession has its own specific behavior and clothing characteristics."

Arthur said casually: "The hat has traces of wind and rain, indicating that this person often works outdoors. The shoes have traces of wear from horseshoes, indicating that this person often rides horses. Heavy smokers like us usually have slightly yellow fingernails, and you can smell a faint smell of tobacco if you sniff it gently. And those who like to chew tobacco usually cause specific teeth to wear and cause color changes inside the mouth. The mechanic's work clothes will be worn in specific places, and the distribution of oil stains is also very special. There is usually mud residue in the nails of masons, and the edges of the nails are also worn."

Louis smiled and asked, "How did she know you were a police officer? The most I can tell is that you're a chain smoker."

"It's very simple."

Arthur said, "First of all, people who have been police officers or soldiers always stand with their bodies straight, their feet apart, their center of gravity evenly distributed, and their steps steady and firm. This posture is usually the result of long-term training. Most people rarely walk or stay in this posture."

At this point, Arthur raised his right hand again: "Secondly, there are obvious calluses on my palms, especially on the thumb and index finger. The joints of my fingers are relatively thick. This is the result of long-term use of weapons."

"I don't agree with that," Louis asked back, "Doing heavy physical work can also have the same effect."

"Of course." Arthur rolled up his shirt sleeves. "But if you work with the developed forearm muscles instead of the back arm muscles, you get different results. That's not the training effect you get from doing heavy physical work."

"Hmm..." Louis thought for a moment, "But I don't think this is enough to prove that you used to be a police officer."

"That's right." Arthur speculated, "I think the biggest possibility of exposing my identity may be my appearance."

"How are you dressed?"

Louis took a step back and examined Arthur's clothes from top to bottom. "I think you are dressed very appropriately, and you don't look like a hard-working detective at all. Could it be that you were wearing a police uniform when you went to see her that day? But that doesn't make sense. How can a Bohemian girl know the uniform of a Scotland Yard police officer?"

Arthur lifted the hem of his tuxedo to reveal his calfskin belt. Before he could say anything, Louis had already noticed the clue.

There was an obvious mark of wear on Arthur's belt, which looked like a small hook that was barely visible. Others might not know why he had this mark, but Louis, who also worked as a policeman, knew very well that it was the mark of the quick-action handcuffs.

Perhaps each of these small details is not enough to prove Arthur's career experience, but when put together they seem very suspicious.

If the bohemian girl with "wolf eyes" could still notice some professional habits of the most savvy policeman in Scotland Yard, such as unconsciously looking around when talking to people and showing a hint of scrutiny when making inadvertent eye contact with people, then it can be basically confirmed that this is an old cop.

Louis joked, "It seems that you have met a master this time. I now understand why you are so interested in her, not only because of her beauty, but also because you are a good match. If she were not a girl, perhaps you could consider giving her a half-time job at Scotland Yard. She would definitely be able to do a good job in the Criminal Investigation Department, and would be no less capable than Inspector Field and his team."

Arthur looked up at the sun and nodded to Louis to go sit in the restaurant.

As he pushed the door open and walked in, he said, "I disagree with you. This ability to judge people is rarely innate. Most of it is acquired through training. Apart from the police, the people who are most proficient in this are criminals."

“Aren’t charlatans also criminals?”

Louis pulled out a chair and sat down. "It's just that their work is usually more detailed, and most of the victims are willing. How much did she charge you for this fortune-telling?"

"She didn't ask me for money," Arthur said as he peeled the large bowl of boiled plums that the waiter brought over as an appetizer.

"That's strange." Louis smiled and said, "Is she worried that you are an undercover agent sent by the police?"

"That's a possible reason, and I'm indeed an undercover agent for the Paris police now." Arthur stuffed the plum into his mouth and reached out for a grouse and a glass of thick and sweet mixed wine.

"You are in contact with the Paris police?"

Louis even forgot to order food. His mind was completely drawn into Arthur's seemingly casual words: "How did you get involved with them?"

Arthur did not deny it, but said tactfully: "Louis, you know, as a British diplomat, I can't contact the Paris police alone. I don't trust them, and they don't trust me." Seeing that he didn't deny it, Louis continued to ask: "So it's Mr. Vidocq's job? What is he investigating?"

Arthur didn't say it directly, but changed the subject: "I met an old friend of yours a few days ago, and he asked me to give his regards to you."

"Who?"

"Giuseppe Mazzini."

Arthur took a sip of the strong blended wine, and the spicy taste made him frown. "Their situation is not optimistic. The French government seems to suspect that they were responsible for the bombing of the Kedousay Mansion, so they are considering expelling them from the country, and Metternich's Austrian spies ambushed in Paris are waiting for this day."

"Mazzini?!"

When Louis heard the name, he almost jumped out of his chair.

Although he did not join "Young Italy", three years ago, he did participate in a conspiracy against the Pope's secular power in Rome with Mazzini, who was then one of the leaders of the "Carbonari".

At that time, Louis used his identity as a member of the Bonaparte family to spy on the Carbonari. Every morning, he would ride a white horse with a tricolor blanket around the city of Rome.

However, due to poor planning and betrayal by a traitor, his true identity was soon revealed by the Roman police, and he was expelled from the Papal States before the uprising on February 2.

But even though his plan was exposed, Louis did not give up. After the uprising failed, he persuaded his mother, who was still in Rome at the time, to hide two fugitive insurgents. He and his brother went to Florence without telling their family, preparing for a final and desperate fight with the remaining Carbonari.

However, the ridiculous thing is that the reason why these Carbonari chose to fight to the death when the Austrian intervention army was at the gates of the city and the Italian states were united was because they believed that the French July Monarchy government, which had just come to power not long ago, would support them.

But it was obvious that Louis Philippe could not support any movement with a Bonapartist coloring, because that would undoubtedly be digging his own grave.

But no matter how absurd the Carbonari uprising was, Louis and Mazzini did have a life-and-death friendship, or a revolutionary friendship.

When Louis heard that Mazzini might fall into the hands of the Austrians, the relaxed smile suddenly disappeared from his face.

As mentioned before, he is a nostalgic person, and no matter how ridiculous Louis' ideal of "republican emperor" is, at least at this moment, he really believes from the bottom of his heart that he is indeed a republican, but his understanding of republicanism is different from that of Dumas, Mazzini and others.

Louis stared at the wine glass in Arthur's hand restlessly, and Arthur had expected him to have such a reaction.

He knew his friend very well. Although most of the later generations would curse when talking about Louis Bonaparte, from Arthur's point of view, he was actually a young man with ideals. If he was not so naive, he would not have participated in the Carbonari uprising without telling his family.

You know, during the uprising, bullets don’t care what your surname is. Even if you are lucky enough to escape the bullets and be captured alive by the Austrian army, as an exile, the lightest punishment is long-term imprisonment, and even execution is very normal.

And precisely because Louis had this experience of being expelled, he could better understand the dangerous situation that Mazzini and "Young Italy" were in.

Once Louis Philippe officially issued the order to expel them, groups of Austrians and Italians would "line up to welcome" Mazzini and his brothers at the French border, and might even enthusiastically fire seven "salutes" for them, or at least thirteen guns as a sign of respect.

Arthur was dissecting the grouse on his plate and asked indifferently, "Aren't you going to order any food? It's exhausting to stand up and sit down like this all the time."

Louis saw Arthur eating heartily, pursed his lips and remained silent for a long time, then suddenly asked, "Does Alexander know about this?"

"Which one?"

"Mazzini and his people may be expelled from the country."

"Louis, how could you think I would be stupid enough to tell Alexander about this?" Arthur put down his knife and fork. "Telling him would only make the Austrians waste one more bullet. If the bullet didn't work, Metternich would at most get one more hemorrhoid."

"Ok."

Louis sat back in his chair. "I know you must have a reason for bringing this up with me. You know I stand with the Carbonari. I was a deserter in a miserable situation three years ago, but I didn't do it on purpose. I was under pressure from all sides. This time, no matter what the family says, I have to stand with them.

As my brother who died in the Carbonari said: 'The name we bear compels us to support those unfortunate people who call upon us. ' Although my current position does not allow me to do so openly, I can use my remaining energy for them in secret. "

"Hmm..." Arthur curled his lips: "It seems that the Bohemian girl I met is not entirely a liar."

"what happened?"

Arthur replied: "She said I would be friends with the emperor, and you, my friend, did say something like an emperor. It reminded me of Napoleon's Hundred Days of Restoration."

Of course Louis knew what Arthur was talking about.

When Napoleon returned to France from his exile on the island of Elba, facing the Fifth Army that came to suppress him, he walked up to the soldiers alone, took off his coat, revealing his familiar gray coat and military uniform, and then shouted: "Soldiers, if you want to kill your emperor, do it here!"

When the soldiers heard this, they not only did not shoot, but they laid down their weapons, shouted "Long live the emperor", and turned to support Napoleon.

As a destined Bonaparte, Louis knew his uncle's glorious deeds by heart.

Maybe in the future, he can become more sophisticated, but now he is just a young man in his twenties.

Perhaps he could resist other compliments, but the only weakness he would never be able to resist was being compared to his uncle.

"Come on, Arthur."

Louis blushed and took off his hat and threw it on the dining table. "I don't have much room to move around now, but if there is a place where I can be useful, I will not refuse. Alexander always ridicules me for not being a true republican, but today I will show him what true republicanism is like!"

However, Louis, who had just expressed his lofty ambitions, was not completely dazzled by Arthur's flattery. At least he still remembered what a cunning person his old boss was.

Louis loosened his collar, leaned forward, and lowered his voice: "But you have to tell me first, why did you get involved with Mazzini and others? Why did you want to help the Carbonari? Was it an order from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs? And what is the relationship between the young Italy who helped Mazzini and the Bohemian girl?"

(End of this chapter)