The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 1761 - 84: Navy Department "Bigwig" Eld Carter (Part 2)

Arthur joked, "Barely accept it? From the way you sound, I’m afraid only becoming a Naval Minister could satisfy your appetite. Eld, you and Charles have really run enough this time. I guess if your uncle pulls some strings, at least he might get you into the Navy Department to fill a nice cushy position, right?"

Eld originally had in mind his uncle’s strict request for confidentiality, but seeing everyone apparently knew about the dealings, he reluctantly spoke up.

"To be honest, my uncle initially didn’t seem to want to meddle in this. But last summer, when my aunt stayed briefly in Belfast, she happened to run into him inspecting the Navy logistics branch there. You know how it is with relatives, once they meet they have to exchange a few words. My aunt first blamed him for not considering the few men in the Carter family, sending me, his nephew, on some world tour. If something were to happen to me, how would he face people in the future?

My uncle got so mad at her chiding that he blurted out all sorts of things, both suitable and not. My aunt was satisfied only when she heard he had some plans for me. Soon after, she wrote to me saying that he might be able to arrange for me a position in a newly restructured section under the Navy Department, something called ’Fleet Overseas Supply Supervision Assistant Commissioner’. Sounds like a long title, but actually, it’s just a low-rank clerical position. But apparently, it’s a pretty good position, as it reports directly to the Navy Supply Affairs Bureau and even gets to deal with White Hall over there."

Having spent five years with Eld day and night, Darwin was a bit displeased when he heard this: "Eld, why didn’t you tell me about this? Are you afraid that I would compete with you for this position?"

"Of course not." Eld confessed honestly, "The reason I didn’t tell you is mainly because this position hasn’t even been established yet. According to my uncle’s plan, when the position gets set up depends mainly on when I come back. If I told you, and you blabbed after having too much to drink, my uncle would definitely have my hide."

Upon hearing this, Darwin complained, "I talk too much when drunk? Come on, Eld, when have I ever been loose-lipped? Besides, you’ve drunk way more than me these past few years, how come you don’t worry about yourself blurting things out when drunk?"

Great Dumas snorted, "You British, arranging a position for a family relative, and it gets more complicated than writing a play. If it were in Paris, word of this would get out, and the next day the drinks would start flowing."

"That’s because you French are just too optimistic." Eld mocked, "In the Navy Department, things like this are just like smuggling. If no one outside knows, then all are better off. But if the cat gets out of the bag, once the government starts investigating, everyone’s in trouble."

Great Dumas didn’t buy it: "Isn’t it just White Hall’s empty show? Government investigations? I’ve never seen a government investigation have any impact. Look at that gentleman beside you. Our dear Arthur has been investigated by the government twice. Was there ever a problem found? Charles, do you remember how the investigation report about Arthur was written in the end?"

"The Foreign Office confirmed that during Arthur Hastings’s tenure as the Cultural Counsellor in Russia, he engaged in talks and military inspections with local Caucasus leaders without full authorization. Although his actions were motivated by intending to ’expand Britain’s intelligence boundaries’, they sparked Russia’s diplomatic protest, border closures, and misjudgments in form, not in line with the scope of his appointment. It is recommended to give Arthur Hastings a warning and inform embassies worldwide to take this as a cautionary example. Additionally, due to national security considerations, the full details of this investigation will remain confidential."

Great Dumas nodded slightly, "And there was that incident at the Tower of London."

"The committee believes Officer Hastings exercised force within the scope of his duties that day, though it resulted in civilian casualties, legally falling under self-defense, not motivated by intentional slaughter and not unconstitutional, nor violating authorized policing regulations. However, inadequate site control experience and sluggish communication mechanisms were main reasons for the incident’s escalation, suggesting system rectification."

Great Dumas gleefully tapped the table, "You see, Eld, with Arthur’s example in front of you, what do you have to fear?"

Eld obviously didn’t know what these daring fellows had been up to over the years. Although he was aware of Arthur getting nearly killed at the Tower of London, Arthur had never gone into detail with him about the Young Italy or Caucasus affairs.

So, you can’t really blame him for having his mind set on that nonsensical ’Fleet Overseas Supply Supervision Assistant Commissioner’ position.

Arthur had kept quiet, merely listening as they joked, questioned, and ridiculed back and forth. It wasn’t until Dickens recited the investigation reports fluently that he couldn’t help but lightly cough to draw back everyone’s attention.

For Eld, his famous compatriot from the University of London, Arthur had a better laid-out plan than Eld’s own uncle.

"Eld." Arthur spoke up, "You’re not seriously about to tell me you’re going to settle for stuffing your head in account books and copying warehouse records for the rest of your life, are you? I haven’t forgotten your bold words from back then. Who told me they’d forge ahead on their own merit and make a name for themselves in Britain? Sure, Fleet Overseas Supply Supervision Assistant Commissioner? Sounds not bad, could perhaps be quite profitable, especially since you’ve helped your uncle with smuggling Royal Navy contraband before, so it’s not like you lack experience. But we both know this is just a low-level civil servant position. Its ceiling isn’t even close to those core positions at White Hall."

Eld was taken aback, instinctively leaning back against his chair, "What do you mean? You think I should volunteer to sweep floors at White Hall? Come on, Arthur, those bastards only hire tea-serving ladies, I’m at a severe disadvantage."

Arthur shook his head, "I think you ought to take this year’s Navy Department selection exam."

"What?" Eld’s eyes widened.

"There are two preparatory civil servant positions at the Navy Department this year, marked as being for those with real overseas experience and proficiency with multilingual documents and enemy maps."

Arthur said leisurely, "Your experience completely fits the bill. As a top student in classical literature from our University of London, you know Latin, French, and even Spanish from your time in South America. As a cartographer on the Beagle, you understand charts, routes, supply lines, even ship repair processes—things most Navy Department office clerks couldn’t learn in a lifetime. Believe me, maybe this position isn’t as comfortable as the one your uncle can get you, but these two positions are within the White Hall building in the Navy Department. Meaning, if you do well, positions like third clerk, second clerk, first clerk... maybe even chief clerk are within reach."

Listening to Arthur spell it out, Eld’s brow furrowed tighter and tighter, as if he weren’t hearing a proposal for a promotion, but reading a debt collection notice.

He picked up his wine glass, took a sip, but made a face like he’d bitten into something sour.

"Ugh... I’m not saying the White Hall at the Navy Department isn’t good, but..." Eld started nervously, "Arthur, you know as well as anyone that the people in the Navy Department are each more stubborn than the last. Sure, there’s a good salary and so-called loyalty bonuses at year-end, but to actually gain any benefits, isn’t it all about the Navy Supply Bureau or ship procurement spots that are practically overflowing with fats? I may have a higher ceiling in White Hall, but that means being buried in paperwork every day, even tightening my own belt. Don’t forget, I’m already neck-deep in debt, I don’t want to end up in debtors’ prison."

"You’re afraid there’s no profit." Arthur smiled slightly, "But have you forgotten what you have in your hands?" 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

"What do you mean?"

"Don’t you have our stocks? A thousand shares of preferred stocks. If you’re short on cash, I’ll propose in the board meeting tomorrow to buy back the stocks from you at market price. By early next week, you’ll have nine thousand pounds—I guarantee not one penny less."

(Another Chapter to be added later)