The Shadow of Great Britain

Chapter 1434: Chapter 220: Hutter Was Enlightened by Sir’s Words

The house that Duke Golitsyn prepared for Arthur was a typical old Russian mansion, located on the broad Tver Street, with the standard grand porch and wide steps, surrounded by tall trees, their trunks covered in frost, glistening with a silvery glow under the lamplight.

Although Arthur’s villa near London Hyde Park and his residence in Gottingen could both be called luxurious, they paled in comparison to this mansion.

The spacious and bright foyer was paved with black and white marble tiles, with an ancient round table at the center, holding several fashion magazines and some business cards left by visitors. Lining both sides were exquisite porcelain vases, filled with fresh flowers, emitting a faint fragrance.

From here, one could access various rooms: on the left was a splendidly decorated living room, with wallpaper adorned with intricate patterns, and most of the furniture made of mahogany, their surfaces as smooth as mirrors. The sofas were covered with soft silk cushions, bright in color yet retaining elegance.

A large oil painting hung from the ceiling, depicting angels seemingly smiling at every person who entered this house.

The dining room’s long table could accommodate over twenty guests dining simultaneously.

At the center of the dining table sat an exquisite tableware stand made of crystal and silver, surrounded by gilded chairs, each with the Golitsyn family crest embroidered on their backs. A huge mirror hung on the wall, reflecting the entire room, making the space appear more spacious and brighter.

Passing through the corridor, one could see a study, where various books were neatly arranged on the bookshelves, ranging from classical literature to the latest scientific works. From the order of the books, one could see the host’s regard for visiting guests, as the most prominent position on the shelf displayed Arthur Sigma’s masterpiece ”Hastings Case Files” and the ”Royal Society’s Natural Philosophy Yearbook,” documenting Sir Arthur Hastings’s major electromagnetic discoveries.

Hutter removed his hat and handed his coat to the attentive butler. His nose twitched slightly to catch the unique scent of paper and leather permeating the room—an aroma of knowledge, history, and elegance.

Arthur, dressed in just a white shirt, sat in an armchair by the fireplace in the study, with a copper table lamp beside him. The lamp’s soft light accentuated Sir Arthur’s playful yet charming smile.

Even though Hutter knew of Arthur’s identity beforehand, witnessing this gentleman, once trapped in Druiysk pretending to be a Tsarist Russian official, now transformed in just one day into a celebrated British figure among Moscow’s high society, was like a surreal experience for him.

He was the same person, with the same face, yet possessed different auras and, of course, different identity documents.

Just by changing his clothes and city, even without saying a word, Hutter already felt the inherent and oppressive air of authority emanating from Arthur.

Hutter was momentarily at a loss for words. He wasn’t adept in such settings, and in Arthur’s presence, he even felt awkward and uneasy.

Fortunately, Arthur wasn’t the type to deliberately make things difficult for others. He waved a hand for the butler to serve Hutter a samovar, and he was the one to break the silence first.

”Have you completed your tasks? I heard the roads to Siberia for escorting prisoners aren’t easy. Did you suffer much on the way?”

Hutter took a sip of hot tea, warming his cold body, and talking about work was one of the few topics he could elaborate on.

Hutter nodded gently and said, ”Traveling during this season, especially for urgent duties to Siberia, is indeed a torment. The roads are atrocious, full of black, rugged surfaces, with stones and earth mounds rising like small hills in the low, snowy fields on both sides. The horses constantly slip, forcing your carriage to move slowly, step by step. In some places, you encounter trap-like ice pits; if you’re not careful and fall in, it can keep you stalled for several hours, or even longer.”

Arthur, always interested in Siberia, inquired further, ”What do you do in those situations?”

”Well, you have to send someone to a nearby village to hire people. Then you just wait for the villagers to come and help drag your carriage out, or more precisely, carry it to the other side of the obstructing large water pit. On the worst days, we’d be lucky to cover forty Russian miles, yet our leaden legs felt as if we’d trudged a hundred and fifty.”

Hutter put down his teacup and sighed, ”In those moments, seeing a solitary relay station behind a few trees along the road feels like finding a blessed place. Though I’ve traveled only thirty to forty miles in total, I’m groggy, my forehead numb, and my whole body without an ounce of strength. Thus, having a sip from the simple samovar prepared at the relay station, eating a few bites of the food, darkened from sitting too long, and lying on the fold-up iron bed prepared for you feels like receiving God’s blessing.”

Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but sympathize, ”That really sounds like a tough job. Do you often handle such tasks?”

Hutter blew warm breath into his hands, ”I can’t help it. I’m a foreigner with no roots in Russia, and I don’t have any special skills. I can only rely on such grueling jobs to make my mark in front of my superiors.”