shadow of britain

Chapter 600 Arthur Hastings? Artur Hastingov!
The curtains were half-drawn, blocking the sunlight that was shining into the room through the glass.

In the bedroom that still smelled of alcohol, Arthur's eyelashes trembled slightly.

Slowly opening his eyes, Arthur stared at the ceiling for a long time before slowly sitting up from the bed. He felt his heavy body was like a lump of lead.

The sheets clung to my wet skin and the air smelled of alcohol and cigarettes.

Almost instinctively, he reached for the kettle on the bedside and took a few gulps of water, but it only slightly relieved his thirst. When the water slid down his throat, he felt a warm comfort, but it was followed by a violent reaction in his stomach. He tried hard to suppress the nausea that was about to surge up.

Arthur put his hand on his forehead, trying to wake himself up. The sunlight from the window poured into the room through the blinds and shone on the wooden floor. His eyes were fixed on the faint light and his eyes narrowed unconsciously.

The memories of last night began to piece together, the dim lights, the actors' tense performances, the aromas and laughter around him - and his irresistible drinking. Obviously, his situation today was not good.

After finally getting up from the bed, he staggered to the window and opened the curtains.

The cold air hits your face, making you instantly sober.

The morning in Göttingen was humid, the air was fresh but with a hint of autumn. Busy pedestrians were already walking on the streets, and the streets beside and the monastery towers in the distance seemed particularly quiet.

"Oh my god..." Arthur muttered in a low voice, his voice was hoarse and low, he could hardly stand his own voice. Last night's pleasure seemed to have become a nightmare. He covered his eyes with his hands, trying to regain his mind.

He didn't know why he drank so much last night. It might be that the performance of "Turandot" gave him a strange sense of release, allowing him to immerse himself in the tide of applause and cheers, temporarily forgetting the pressure brought by his job.

Being a spy chief is actually not as easy as some people think. You have to keep so many people, so many things, so many crimes and secrets in your heart, and you can't tell anyone or share them with anyone. This feeling is not pleasant.

But in a flash, Arthur suddenly felt a deep emptiness in his heart. This feeling was not due to the physical discomfort caused by a hangover, but came from the regret for some kind of loss of control.

He was no longer at university age. When he was studying at the University of London, the worst outcome of a drunken night with Elder was that he would meet some thugs, get into a fight with them, and be thrown into a roadside ditch.

but now……

Now he has too many secrets in his heart, and perhaps a slip of the tongue will lead to a disaster.

Whether it was the dirty work done in Scotland Yard in the past, the aid funds of Young Italy, the true nature of the Gestapo, or the incident where Russian students wanted to make a big news in the Moscow Daily...

Arthur walked to the window and glanced at his own reflection in the glass, at the tired, unadorned face with a strange look in his eyes.

He couldn't help but smile bitterly, thinking to himself, "He really looks like a complete stranger."

He walked back to his bed and rummaged through the letters and papers under his pillow, trying to find something to focus his attention.

Suddenly, his eyes stopped on a piece of letter paper stained with sealing wax. On the envelope was written the words "University of Göttingen" - that was his letter of appointment as the special national representative of the University of Göttingen.

Arthur's slightly hot head seemed to be poured with a basin of cold water, and he sighed softly. It seemed that all this frivolity and entertainment had no real place in his life. He still needed to stand firm and continue with the cold and stressful job.

He took a deep breath, sat down holding the letter, closed his eyes and calmed himself for a while.

However, he soon caught a glimpse of the bedside table, which seemed to contain many items that did not belong to him besides his hat.

The first thing that caught his attention was a crudely made knife. The blade was short and sturdy, about ten to twelve centimeters long. The handle was made of oak, and the surface was polished smooth and warm to the touch after years of use.

Arthur picked up the knife and looked at it carefully, and found that the name of the original owner, Giuseppe Garibaldi, was engraved on the knife.

Next to the knife, there was a short note, on which was written in Italian the simple blessing of this optimistic revolutionary to his friend - every inch of steel fought for freedom, the heart of a warrior will never surrender, and I hope you will be equally brave on the road ahead.

Arthur held the note in his hand and laughed, "Giuseppe...Since you gave me this knife, I won't stab you with it next time."

Next to the knife was a wine-stained letter signed by Shubinsky.

But when he opened the letter, the dense Cyrillic letters on it made Arthur frown.

Although he had been studying Russian very hard, receiving such a letter suddenly after a hangover was like reading an incomprehensible book to Arthur.

"Even if he doesn't use English, he should at least use French or German..." Arthur muttered softly and put the letter into the small box under the bed.

But before he could lock the box, he heard someone push open the bedroom door.

Fiona's voice sounded from the other end of the room: "Are you up so early? I thought you would sleep until the afternoon."

Arthur pushed the small box under the bed. Before he could stand up, he felt dizzy again. He had to sit on the bed to calm down. "Maybe this is a good idea. If there is no academic committee meeting this afternoon..."

Fiona walked up to him and put her coat on his shoulders, then sat on his lap naturally, and took out a warm and exquisite letter from her arms like a magic trick.

"What is this?" Arthur was not very interested in the letter. He just guessed, "Who left this farewell letter for me?"

"A farewell letter? No, dear, it's a welcome letter."

Fiona hugged Arthur's neck excitedly. When she thought about the identity of this man in her northern hometown, she couldn't help but feel proud. "This is what you have been dreaming of. It comes from Whitehall, where you have asked countless times. It is a letter of appointment from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. Congratulations, my dear. Next year, you will become a real big shot!"

"Big shot..."

Arthur took the letter of appointment and carefully looked at every letter on it.

His Majesty's Government
外交部

London, November 1833, 11

To: Sir Arthur Hastings, Kt
Cultural Counselor to the Court of His Majesty the King of Russia
Dear Sir Arthur Hastings:
By the instructions of His Majesty the King and on the recommendation of the Honorary Cabinet, you have been appointed Cultural Attaché to His Majesty the King's Mission to the Court of His Majesty the Emperor of the Russian Empire, effective February 1834, 2.

Your main responsibility will be to promote cultural and academic exchange between the UK and the Russian Empire, and to advance British intellectual, artistic and educational causes at the Russian court. You will liaise with local educational institutions, organise cultural events and help build closer cultural links between the two countries.

Among other things, you will advise His Majesty's Government on the cultural situation in Russia and report to us on the progress of artistic, literary and scientific innovations. You will be charged with maintaining the highest standards of diplomatic etiquette through cultural exchanges and promoting mutual respect between the two sides.

Given your strong academic background and outstanding diplomatic skills, the government is confident that you will be well-suited to your new position and will continue to work hard to promote good relations between Britain and Russia. You will report directly to the Earl of Darramore, His Majesty's Ambassador to the Imperial Court of the Russian Empire, and act in accordance with his instructions.

In view of the nature of the responsibilities you will undertake, I must inform you that in order to devote yourself fully to your new duties, you will need to resign your current positions as State Representative of the Kingdom of Hanover to the University of Göttingen and Chancellor of the University of Göttingen before you go to Russia to take up your new post on February 1834, 2.

We have high hopes for the mission you are undertaking and wish you extraordinary success in your new position.

With the highest respect, your most loyal supporter,
(sign)
Henry John Temple, 3rd Viscount Palmerston

Foreign Secretary of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland
On January 1834, 1, the new constitution of the Kingdom of Hanover will be officially promulgated, and the farce in Göttingen will come to an end.

And in a month, Arthur will immediately take up his new position as Cultural Counselor in Russia.

It is unlikely that such a tight schedule was arranged by the Foreign Secretary, Viscount Palmerston. After all, Arthur was not related to him, so there was no need for him to rush to help Arthur with his career.

The only reasonable explanation is that Count Daramo, the ambassador to Russia, wrote a special letter to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs regarding the issue of his appointment.

Earl Daramore, like Lord Chancellor Brougham, was a well-known troublemaker within the Whig Party.

The Foreign Secretary, Viscount Palmerston, could be as overbearing and rude as the toughest overseer in a mine when dealing with his Foreign Office officers, such as Mr. August Schneider, the Assistant Under-Secretary of State.

However, he could not show such an attitude in front of Earl Daramo.

Because just a year ago, Earl Daramore was the most troublesome and radical guy in the cabinet committee.

Both Earl Daramore's father-in-law, Prime Minister Earl Grey, Arthur's old boss, Home Secretary Viscount Melbourne, and even Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston considered Earl Daramore a dangerous colleague and worried that his radical views and lack of restraint would cause trouble in the country.

However, they could not force Earl Daramore to resign from the cabinet directly, because such radical political leaders usually have a large number of loyal supporters. And given Earl Daramore's temper, if the ministers in the cabinet really dared to do so, Earl Daramore might really dare to leave with a large number of his followers, thus causing internal divisions in the Whig Party.

So, when Earl Daramo offered to resign as Lord Chancellor and announced his retirement from the cabinet, the Lords hastily approved his resignation and immediately chose a good position for him, putting him in the position of Russian ambassador and placing him on a high pedestal.

Therefore, as long as Earl Daramore did not cause trouble at home, even if he wanted to recommend a Scottish donkey as cultural counselor to Russia, Foreign Secretary Viscount Palmerston would have to accept it.

Not to mention, compared to the donkey, the York swineherd is not a bad choice.

At the very least, he has a certain degree of management experience, and has rich experience in culture, art, and scientific research. Even if we put aside his relationship with Earl Durham, Arthur Hastings is in a very advanced position in the competition with other candidates based solely on his abilities and resume.

Therefore, Viscount Palmerston simply went with the flow and did Arthur a favor while trying to please Earl Daramore.

Arthur did not show much enthusiasm for this new opportunity. He only felt relieved.

Although the position of Chancellor of the University of Göttingen is equally respected, this position does not ultimately belong to the British official sequence.

If Earl Daramore had not forgotten this outstanding graduate of the University of London, he might have been forgotten by Whitehall in Hanover and transformed into a complete official of the Kingdom of Hanover.

Although his rank was not low, he did not want to stay here, because he understood deeply that perhaps in a few years, students graduating from the University of Göttingen would climb over his head one after another.

Who made him have no 'Feng' in his surname?

Let Arthur accept the discipline of a brat like Bismarck?
The Yorkshire swineherd could not bear such treatment.

However, Fiona obviously valued the appointment letter more than Arthur, and she especially didn't want to leave his side today.

Perhaps because Arthur told her about his conversation with Shubinsky on his way home after getting drunk last night, this Russian girl who has lived in London for a long time accidentally learned that the Cultural Counselor in Russia is equivalent to a fourth-rank civil servant.

A fourth-rank civil servant!

This is a high position that her gambling-addicted father could never even dream of!
Perhaps it is difficult for ordinary people to understand why Russian women, like Russian men, are so eager for official ranks.

However, if we look at the relevant provisions of the Russian Official Rank Table, it is not difficult to understand their feelings.

Because the "Official Rank Table" clearly stipulates that the status of all officials' wives rises or falls with the official rank of their husbands, the unmarried daughter of a first-rank official has a higher status than all the wives of officials below the fifth rank, the unmarried daughter of a second-rank official has a higher status than all the wives of officials below the sixth rank, and so on, until the unmarried daughter of a tenth-rank official has a higher status than all the wives of officials below the fourteenth rank (the lowest rank).

The "Official Rank List" that my father had held in his hand and reviewed repeatedly since I was a child seemed to have an extraordinary magic. Everything in Russia depended on official rank. People did not ask what he knew, what he had done, or what he could do, but what rank he was. The pursuit of official rank was the only passion of the Russians, an electric current therapy that gave life to the body and soul.

Hearing the news of being promoted to the first rank was more exciting than drinking several barrels of vodka, and one could not wait to walk tens of thousands of miles in the snow.

Such feelings made Fiona's obsession with officials that was buried in her genes suddenly emerge from somewhere just by hearing the words "fourth-rank civil servant" many years later.

Perhaps because she was worried that Arthur would act recklessly in Russia, or perhaps because she was afraid that the reckless behavior of this Scotland Yard policeman would anger the unpredictable Tsar, Fiona felt that she needed to give Arthur a basic course on Russian culture.

She deliberately picked an interesting topic to arouse Arthur's interest: "Do you know my name?"

"What's your name?" Arthur was stunned by Fiona's question: "Aren't you Fiona? But one of her twin sisters?"

Fiona glared at him unhappily: "I do have a sister, but she died at the age of five. But that's not my problem. Can't you think more normally?"

"Fiona Ivan?" Arthur's tone was obviously not very confident. Although he was sure that the answer should be this, the old man deeply understood that women's questions were never that simple: "Is this name fake?"

"No, it's not fake, but it's definitely been altered."

Fiona proudly introduced: "To be precise, my name should be Fiona Ivanovna Vkosova. Among them, Fiona is my first name, Ivanovna is my patronymic, which means 'daughter of Ivan', and Vkosova is my surname, which means 'female of the Vkos family'."

After that, Fiona asked, as if to test Arthur on purpose, "Do you know how to pronounce your name if you were born in Russia?"

This little problem certainly did not pose any difficulty for Arthur. After all, he had studied Russian history. For him, the only difficulty might be the difficult pronunciation of Russian.

He was thinking about it, and the red devil who had just woken up took off his nightcap, yawned and blurted out: "Arthur Agaresovich Hestingov."

Although Arthur was unhappy with the Red Devil's unauthorized addition of 'Agares' to his father's name, it must be said that other than that, the Red Devil's answer was impeccable, especially his Russian pronunciation was very standard.

Arthur omitted the part about his father's name and repeated it imitating Agares' pronunciation.

As expected, Fiona showed a surprised expression on her face.

"Yes, Artur Hestingov. It would be more complete if you add your father's name."

Fiona deliberately led the conversation to the "Official Rank Table" that made her uneasy: "Then Mr. Hastingoff, you must know that if you were born in Russia, you would already be an honorable fourth-rank civil servant. Even if you are a college student, a talented young man, but you know that in Russia, even if you are a first-class graduate of a university, even if you can be promoted every time, to reach such a position, to become a fourth-rank special civil servant senator, how many years do you need at least?"

"How many years?"

Fiona kissed him happily, put her arms around his neck and said, "Honey, that's twenty years!"

(End of this chapter)