The Shadow of Great Britain

196: Chapter 134 Paganini Etudes_2 196: Chapter 134 Paganini Etudes_2 As the performance entered the higher octaves, fans of Paganini in the audience had already sensed that something was amiss.

“La Campanella?”

“A piano piece?”

“It seems that Mr.

Mozesales and the London Philharmonic Association didn’t simply accompany Paganini for nothing, they’ve learned quite a bit from the concert.”

“Mozesales?

It’s Hastings playing!”

“Ah?

Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

“Shh!

Keep your voice down.”

The lights gradually dimmed, and amidst a murmur of whispers, guests’ eyes were all focused on Arthur’s hands, which fluttered over the piano keys as if they had sprouted wings.

Perhaps not every lady present understood science, but it was certain that every one of them understood the piano.

Arthur’s hands agilely hopped among sixteenth notes spanning wide distances, and what was even more incredible was that, even with the playing method right in front of them, they still couldn’t comprehend how Arthur managed to use just his left hand to maintain an uninterrupted melody while performing a series of continuous trills.

Those butterfly-like, rhythmically moving fingertips, and arms bouncing back and forth across the keys created an unbelievable tableau.

Red glimmers scattered from his dark eyes, spilling onto Arthur’s knuckles, forming the appearance of steel strings and red threads that one might find on a marionette.

It left onlookers feeling as if they had stepped into a dreamlike illusion.

In the eyes of the guests, it seemed as though the person sitting on the stage was not an outstanding young scientist, nor a righteous police inspector from Scotland Yard, but a demon with bat wings, whose lips were filled with malice towards the world.

As the piano piece neared its end, a lady in the audience broke into a sweat, seemingly seeing horns gradually growing out of Arthur’s head.

As soon as the piano stopped, the lady suddenly pointed at Arthur and cried out deliriously, “Devil!”

Subsequently, she collapsed, soft as a floating scarf, onto the ground.

Within the hall, all was silent.

Arthur flicked the tail of his tailcoat and slowly stood up.

Pearls of sweat also dotted his forehead among the tousled hair, and beneath his slightly weary expression, he reluctantly offered a faint smile.

“A piece adapted from a study by Mr.

Paganini called ‘The Bell,’ dedicated to all the gentlemen and ladies present today.”

After a brief silence, the guests in the ballroom snapped out of their trance, and scattered applause quickly gathered into a roaring flame that exploded in the room.

While the guests busily helped the lady who had fainted due to her weak condition, they also shouted as if cheering, “Devil!!!”

“Paganini is the devil, Hastings is the devil too!”

“One is the violin devil of the Apennines, the other is the piano devil of Britain.”

Amidst the vigorous applause and cheers, Mozesales put down his baton and walked over to Arthur.

This time, there was not a trace of distrust on his face, replaced by an unstoppable smile.

“Mr.

Hastings, you truly gave me quite a surprise!

I never thought that not only are you well-versed in science, but also proficient in piano.

To play this piece to such an extent, are you really a beginner?

My God!

I really don’t know how many things you’re still keeping from everyone!”

Arthur relaxed slightly, and smiling, he pointed at the baton by Mozesales’s side, “Mr.

Mozesales, to tell you the truth, I do know a thing or two about sticks.”

“You know about conducting?” Mozesales exclaimed, “I knew it!

You definitely aren’t someone who has just started playing an instrument; you’re an old hand, am I right?”

Arthur waved his hands repeatedly, “No, no, no, you’ve misunderstood.

I don’t know how to conduct an orchestra; in the past, I usually used a stick to direct traffic.

You may not be aware, but I’m a Scotland Yard policeman.”

“A policeman?!” Mozesales looked at Arthur in shock, grasping his hands, “Oh!

Mr.

Hastings, God has given you such perfect, 14-degree hands, and you’re telling me you usually handle guns and knives with them?”

Arthur spoke somewhat embarrassingly, “Mr.

Mozesales, it’s not a big deal, I’ve even handled things far more unsightly than knives and guns.”

No sooner had Arthur spoken than the ladies blushed, and Eld, who had been eating not far away from the stage, couldn’t help but tremble, ending up choking on his food.

Fitzroy quickly handed him a glass of wine, which saved him from an untimely tragedy.

Eld cursed repeatedly, “Arthur, can you not talk about such things while I’m eating?

You nearly sent me to meet God.”

Arthur glanced at him and replied, “Eld, I was talking about goats and fish aboard the Beagle, what did you think I meant?”

No sooner had he finished speaking than the gentlemen from the Royal Navy couldn’t help but laugh.

Only General Cochrane feigned seriousness and said firmly, “Mr.

Hastings, you’re right, the little animals are indeed not very clean.

But we have no choice, to ensure we have a sufficient supply of fresh provisions, we must keep those creatures on board.

If the sailors had a choice, we’d also prefer something cleaner.”

Arthur nodded apologetically in agreement, “Indeed, General Cochrane, that was inconsiderate of me.”

On the other side, Mozesales quickly seized the opportunity to express his zeal, “Mr.

Hastings, if you don’t mind, could you give me a copy of the score for this piece later?”

“Of course, there is no problem,” Arthur said with a smile, “I believe with your talent, it won’t take long for you to master this piece, it’s not as difficult as you might imagine.

In fact, it can be presented even without playing on a piano.”

No sooner had Arthur finished speaking than Mozesales, who had just begun to take a liking to Arthur, frowned again.

“What do you mean by that?”

Arthur didn’t answer; he just smiled and took out the prepared phonograph from behind the piano.

He placed the needle on the turntable and, following the winding of the phonograph’s spring mechanism, the familiar melody soon played again in the corner of the ballroom.

Although the sound was not as crisp and pleasant as Arthur’s playing, and even had some unnecessary static, the melodious and highly similar music allowed everyone to recognize its name.

Mozesales stared at the strange machine assembled from a copper horn and a square box in front of him, dumbfounded and frozen on the spot.

“What…

what is this thing?”