shadow of britain

Chapter 77
On the road leading to the outside of London, there is an unremarkable stagecoach driving.

Agares sat on the opposite side of the carriage, frowning at Arthur and the coffin beside him, shaking his head uncontrollably.

"Can you ignore these shits all day long, just find a cemetery and bury her. Just to hold her funeral ceremony, you actually plan to step into a church that you have never been to in your life?"

Arthur didn't respond to Agares' provocation. He lit his pipe and took a sip. When the smoke screen appeared, he was relieved.

"I've been to more ridiculous places than a church in my life, and it's really nothing special."

The Red Devil pointed at him and stared, "Arthur, please understand, I'm not complimenting you!"

Arthur put one hand on the window, he watched the scenery of the field in the distance, and he seemed a little careless about the conversation with Agares.

"is it?"

Agares said anxiously: "You seem to be very arrogant? You are a fucking loser, why are you so arrogant! It's a heroic epic drama, and if you make such a farce, you don't think so. Ashamed? Don't you feel annoyed? Do you fucking want to perform on stage?"

Arthur said lightly: "Agares, don't be angry. In fact, what you said is correct, but I don't think my life is a heroic epic drama."

The red devil angrily threw the parchment roll in his hand, and the pitchfork that he always kept in his hand made him change back.

Holding a pitchfork against Arthur's throat, he pressed and asked, "You boy denied all my arguments, but admitted that I was right? Is there something wrong with your brain, or is something wrong with my brain?"

Arthur raised his hands and imitated the Frenchman's posture and said: "Don't worry, wait until I finish speaking. Although I don't think my life is an epic drama, I do agree with my life It has turned into a farce.

But, Agares, do you know the difference between comedy and farce? "

Agares frowned and thought: "Where?"

Arthur said: "The difference between the two is that farce is in its essence closer to tragedy than comedy."

"Oh! my dear Arthur."

The Red Devil threw the pitchfork out of the window, and put his arms around Arthur's shoulder with a smile.

"You finally started to reflect on your mistakes. Your life has become a tragedy, so you don't plan to change anything? I have been a devil for so many years, and I have seen too many tragedies. You should listen to the words of people like me who have experienced this. Only in this way can the tragedy be avoided from repeating itself.”

Arthur shook his head lightly: "Why do you think humans are obedient? Do you know why humans progress? The reason why humans progress is because the next generation doesn't listen to the previous generation.

Therefore, even if life is a tragedy, I will play it out happily.Even though life is a dream, I must continue to do it with gusto, not to lose the charm and fun of the dream.

Having said that, Agares, your devil career seems to be more tragic than mine, why do you think I should listen to you?

I've been a police inspector since I was 20, what were you doing when you were 20?I think you should listen to me more. "

"Hey! Arthur, fuck you!"

The red devil slapped the seat angrily, one eye was big and the other was small, and he stared at Arthur and cursed: "Don't think that being a police inspector is anything special, that is, I'm not in hell now, if I When you are still in hell, if you dare to talk to me like that, I will tear you alive!"

Perhaps out of breath, Agares said without hesitation: "Besides, do you think the priests will conduct a funeral ceremony for a dissected corpse? If they are willing to do so, then the archbishops of the House of Lords will not have to There was a lot of quarrel over an "Anatomy Act".

If I remember correctly, the "Anatomy Law" drafted in 1828 was rejected several times by the archbishops, right? "

Arthur nodded and said, "Of course I know that bishops and most priests are unwilling to pray for the autopsyed dead, but that doesn't mean all priests are unwilling."

"Didn't you never take part in religious activities? You don't even know a priest. Where can you find a wonderful priest who is willing to hold funerals for the dead?"

Arthur shook his head and said, "I still know one pastor, and only one. But if he is not willing to hold a funeral for the dissector, then I am afraid that there will be no second one in England who is willing to do so." Priest."

The red devil frowned and thought for a while, suddenly, a flash of inspiration flashed in his mind, and the red devil covered his mouth.

"You mean the madman?"

Arthur shook his head: "He's not crazy, he's just an Oxford priest who agrees with Paine."

……

Oxford University, St Mary's Church.

Pastor Newman was sitting in a pew in the church, silently in a daze.

Ever since he came back from London, he has often fallen into this state of long exams, so that he can't feel the passage of time. He clearly feels that he just sat for a while, but it's dusk in an instant.

He thought about it for a while, and felt that something was wrong, so he reached out to explore around him, trying to get the reading notes he brought.

But he fumbled for a long time but found nothing. Newman frowned and looked beside him. There was a familiar figure sitting there.

Newman opened his mouth in surprise, but before he could understand what was going on, he saw the small milky white coffin lying beside Arthur again.

"Mr. Hastings? Are you intending to convert to the State religion?"

Arthur leaned back on the chair and lowered his head: "Mr. Newman, let's not talk about anything else. I need a quiet and undisturbed cemetery, and I need a funeral that can bring the dead as close to God as possible."

Newman glanced at Arthur, then squatted down and gently moved the coffin. He just looked inside and closed his eyes in pain.

"What's going on? Such a small child, why..."

Arthur didn't say anything, just took out a newspaper from his arms and handed it over.

Newman quickly scanned the headlines of the newspaper, and his hands could be seen shaking as he read further.

Afterwards, Newman let out a long sigh, and he almost didn't even think about it, so he agreed.

"Okay, Mr. Hastings, what about the little girl's family? Encoffining, farewell, worship, and burial. I will try my best to discuss these procedures with them. When will they be free?"

Arthur was silent for a while, and he didn't know how to explain this problem to Newman.

"They...may not be able to come. Just treat me as this little girl's family."

Newman asked in amazement, "Why?"

Arthur said calmly: "Because the factory doesn't have a rest holiday."

(End of this chapter)