The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1288: Chapter 167: Herzen-Ogarov Group

”Come, let me introduce you. Starting from the left, we have Vasily Sokolovsky, Nikolai Ogarov, Nikolai Sagin, Nikolai Kaycher, and Nikolai Sazonov.”

Herzen stood up energetically to introduce Arthur to his friends, although he didn’t provide any other useful information, it was already more than enough for the head of the secret police to see and hear.

The group of Russian lads wore tricolor scarves and berets. Before Arthur stepped into the room, he vaguely heard them singing in French outside the door, ”Allons enfants de la patrie” (”Arise, children of the fatherland!”).

Both the radicals and the secret police were familiar with this phrase, as it is the opening line of the French revolutionary song ”La Marseillaise.”

Today, there’s already a Young Italy, a Young Germany, Disraeli is preparing the formation of Young England, and now...

Arthur leaned on the sofa, tossed his hat onto the table, and asked Herzen: ”Do you guys have another organization called Young Russia or something? By the way, you have quite a lot of Nikolais among you.”

Arthur’s political joke was quite dangerous, with an atmosphere like dancing on the edge of a sword, causing Herzen’s smile to become stiff.

He lowered his head, opened a bottle of sparkling wine with a bottle opener, and the golden liquid poured into the fluted glass, reflecting his twinkling eyes.

”Organization? We are just a group of students visiting Leipzig to watch the performances. If this counts as an organization in your opinion, then we reluctantly are one.”

Arthur accepted the glass of wine from Herzen, skillfully using tweezers to place a sugar cube into it.

Then, with a crisp sound, Arthur struck a match to ignite the drink, using a toothpick to pick up a pineapple slice from the fruit platter and roast it over the blue and red flames until bubbles appeared on the surface, crackling softly, before tossing the whole slice into the drink, blowing out the flame, and taking a contented sip.

As the sweet, fruit-flavored taste filled his palate, Arthur sighed with his eyes half-closed: ”You guys don’t actually have an organization, it seems Moscow University student groups are not as active as those in Gottingen.”

Bismarck, sitting next to Arthur, chimed in: ”That’s right, we’re all members of the Gestapo, which is one of the affiliate societies of the entire Deutsch University’s Student Union. If you’re not part of a society, what do you guys do with your extracurricular time at the university?”

Sagin, who came along with Herzen, didn’t know the background of these strangers and assumed they, like him, were university students who came to Leipzig to have fun.

Sagin spoke up: ”Moscow University prohibits students from independently organizing associations, and as for those officially approved ones, you understand, they’re not interesting. Therefore, none of us join those official groups, and even if we did, we would hardly attend their activities. But in secret, we have our own little group, we call it the Herzen-Ogarov Group.”

”The Herzen-Ogarov Group?” Arthur snapped his fingers while leaning on the sofa: ”Great name! You know what I like most about Russians? I love how straightforward you all are, even your names are clear, we immediately know who’s leading!”

Arthur’s gaze then shifted directly to Mr. Ogarov, the man just introduced to him, a thin young man with gentle features, the type that seems rather unnoticeable on a university campus.

Arthur would bet a shilling with others that Mr. Ogarov’s classmates seldom hear him speak loudly.

During classes, he must always sit in the corner of the classroom, quietly listening to every word the professor says, and meticulously writing down his understanding in his notebook. Apart from a few like-minded peers, he hardly has any other social activities. Only at small weekend tavern gatherings would he dare to start discussing topics such as the state, nation, and personal freedom with friends after a few sips.

Why was Arthur so certain that Ogarov was that kind of person?

Because he once was someone like Ogarov, but he was luckier. After graduating from the University of London, he joined Scotland Yard and was quickly promoted, becoming the very person he used to loathe—a glorious parasite of the state, a rare species undiscovered by humanity.

”So, is this Mr. Ogarov, one of your leaders?” Arthur raised his glass and bent towards Ogarov for a toast: ”And where’s your other leader? Our dear Mr. Herzen, where might he be?”

Arthur, with a hint of amusement at the corners of his eyes, scanned the room. His gaze finally settled on the young chap he had chatted happily with in the smoking room: ”No kidding, from the beginning, I sensed a leadership aura about you. Am I right this time, Mr. Herzen?”

Seeing everyone had already spilled the beans about their group, Herzen saw no need to hide it anymore.

Although he always felt that drinking and bragging with a bunch of German students was no big deal, for some reason, deep in his heart, he felt a continuous sense of emptiness, as if stepping off a cliff.