The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1373: Chapter 198: The Vitality of St. Petersburg (Part 2)

”Who is Carter?”

”Don’t worry about that. Didn’t you say you wanted to read something like ’Rob Roy’? Rob Roy is the Robin Hood of Scotland, and Carter’s debut novel is called ’Robin Hood’, which should be right up your alley.”

”Does he write better than Dumas?”

”Didn’t you say you don’t read Dumas?”

”I don’t read him, but I’ve heard of him.”

”1844 Map of Saint Petersburg”

The gentleman in the brown coat followed the clerk downstairs. The environment on the first floor was noticeably quieter than the second. In front of rows of bookshelves stood only a few scattered guests. He casually grabbed a book, wrapped himself in his coat, and nestled into the sofa by the fireplace to warm up.

”Sir, here are a few of Carter’s works. The top two are ’Robin Hood’ and ’St. George’s Flag Still Rises’, both of which are old works, typical Walter Scott-style books that you’ll surely enjoy. As for the ones below, they were probably written by Carter when he was bored, but they’re a good pick to pass the time.”

The gentleman in the brown coat stared at the books below, unable to help but read out a title: ”’The Emperor’s Toilet’? What’s this book about?”

”Ah, this book! This story is about a certain country where there’s a tradition that every emperor must possess the most prestigious toilet, considered a symbol of imperial power. It’s rumored that the toilet is crafted by the finest artisans in the country, using various rare materials and precious decorations. Due to its value, every time the toilet is used, it requires strict security and extensive preparations, following the elaborate ’toilet ceremony.’

One day, a foreign merchant brought a new kind of toilet to the country, claiming that it could save time and increase efficiency while providing a comfortable experience akin to the emperor’s golden toilet. This caused an uproar inside and outside the court. Some ministers believed that the ’new toilet’ represented modernity and progress, while others insisted that the golden toilet was a symbol of national authority and should not be replaced.

During the heated debate among the ministers, the court guards accidentally broke the emperor’s toilet, scattering gold and jewels everywhere, and the emperor’s dignity vanished instantly. To prevent a ministerial protest and the ensuing national crisis, the emperor decided to restore the toilet to an even more luxurious version. This plan, however, led to a financial crisis due to budget overruns. The story revolves around the toilet—it may sound crass, but it’s quite interesting to read.”

The gentleman in the brown coat, upon hearing the plot introduction, immediately put back the ’Robinson Crusoe’ he had just picked up: ”This sounds interesting, but I can only buy one book today...”

As he hesitated, he caught sight of a gentleman holding ’The Emperor’s Toilet’ not far away. As he approached to inquire about the gentleman’s reading impression, he unexpectedly overheard the gentleman muttering in a dialect from some remote corner.

”This one is here, that one is here... all from Brussels... damn Belgian pirates... you’d better pray to God that I don’t catch you... or else, I’ll hang you one by one on the gallows in front of Newgate Prison...”

Arthur noticed someone approaching, glanced quickly at the gentleman, and his sharp gaze made the gentleman shudder.

He noticed the book the man was holding and slightly pursed his lips, then asked the nearby clerk, ”I heard Mr. Gogol is here?”

”Is the gentleman looking for Mr. Gogol?” The quick-witted clerk nodded and bowed. ”He’s in the office discussing the publication of ’Dikanka Night Talk’ Volume 2 with a few other gentlemen. Would you like me to pass a message for you?”

”No need. Just let me know when they’re done talking.”

As soon as Arthur finished speaking, another gentleman wearing a Dutch shirt and a refined suit appeared behind him.

”Sir, the diplomatic report you drafted yesterday has been reviewed by Earl of Dalmo. He appreciates your diligent attitude and the rigorous professionalism demonstrated in the report.”

Arthur invited the subordinate to sit with him on the sofa, then promptly lit his pipe, letting smoke waft gently.

He ignored the flattery and instead asked, ”Henry, how long have you been at the Foreign Office?”

”Me?” Henry Blackwell put the briefcase he held under his arm on the coffee table. ”Seven years.”

”Seven years...” Arthur rubbed his chin and mused for a while. ”That’s not a short time. All seven in Russia? Haven’t you tried to move west?”

Blackwell nodded, rather helplessly. ”Who wouldn’t prefer the western embassies? At least the weather is warm, and you won’t freeze in winter. But I haven’t been lucky, no choice.”

Arthur chuckled twice. ”It’s not that you’re unlucky; you’re just out of the loop and too lazy to think. You think my report was good? I don’t.”

Blackwell was taken aback by Arthur’s words. He furrowed his brow and pondered. Although the report was not a masterpiece filled with ornate language, it was detailed and well-organized. By diplomatic report standards, it could be considered excellent. But why did the sir say it wasn’t good?

Seeing he didn’t get it, Arthur pointed out, ”Even within the Foreign Office, there’s disagreement on how to handle relations with Russia. Although everyone doubts Russia’s intentions, some believe Russia hasn’t yet threatened the British Empire’s interests, while others think Russia’s threat is significant and not to be overlooked. Do you know who the representatives of these two factions are?”

Blackwell was surprised. ”You mean?”

”That’s right, our superior, Earl of Dalmo, is a major supporter of the former viewpoint. He believes Russia’s seemingly strong military capability serves only defensive purposes. Although Tsar Nicholas may harbor expansion dreams, Russia’s current conditions don’t allow him to pursue these dreams. Earl of Dalmo has been trying to prove to the Cabinet that expansion would require substantial resources, which Russia doesn’t possess.”

Blackwell suddenly realized. ”No wonder your diplomatic report pleased Earl of Dalmo so much. I remember you disparaged the Russian army in your report, which suited Earl of Dalmo perfectly. Who represents the view that Russia is a threat?”

Arthur took a puff of the pipe. ”Lord Ponsonby and Resident Minister in Persia, Sir John McKinney, both of whom witnessed Russia gradually replacing Britain and expanding its influence in the Ottoman Empire and Persian Kingdom, thus it’s hard for them not to be wary of Russia.”

”Lord Ponsonby?” Blackwell furrowed his brows. ”But wasn’t he recalled to London last year, no longer the Envoy to the Ottoman Empire?”

”Henry.” Arthur stared at Blackwell for a long time. ”You’re familiar with personnel appointments, but why don’t you think more about the reasons for these personnel changes? Why was Lord Ponsonby dismissed? I shouldn’t have to explain Viscount Palmerston’s stance on Russia, should I?”

Hearing this, many things that puzzled Blackwell before suddenly became clear.

But even knowing the reason, as a potential anti-Russian diplomat, having his superior Earl of Dalmo and the Foreign Secretary both maintain relatively close attitudes towards Russia still felt like a thorn in his side.

”Sigh...” Blackwell sighed lightly. ”Had you not brought these issues to light, I might still be in the dark.”

”Henry, most things in the world are connected,” Arthur blew out a smoke ring. ”For example, think about why, out of all the people at the embassy, I specifically chose you as my private secretary and went through the trouble of explaining these things to you.”