The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 671 - 328 Where is the Enemy

London, Westminster, a restaurant next to Trafalgar Square.

In the farthest corner of the restaurant, four men dressed in long black coats and wearing wide-brimmed hats were seated.

If it had been a few months earlier, their grave and deep outfits would have undoubtedly drawn the attention of the other patrons in the restaurant.

But now, during the cholera period when everyone was wrapped up tightly, even willing to wear various strange-shaped respirators or other bulky protective gear, a heavy black coat really didn’t seem so unusual.

A haggard-looking Mr. Bernie Harrison glanced at the several high-ranking officials from Scotland Yard sitting in front of him and managed to force a weak smile. He passed the menu across the table and started speaking.

"Gentlemen, order whatever you want, today’s meal is on me."

The Great Dumas, propping up his chin, joked in response, "Mr. Harrison, are you trying to buy us off? Although the salary at Scotland Yard isn’t as generous as your cosmetics company, we can still afford the bill for a meal." ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

Harrison, holding his forehead, sighed and said, "Sir, please don’t misunderstand, I would not engage in such folly. Mr. Hasting previously declined my offer of a generous donation of a thousand pounds; I don’t believe a single meal will buy him over."

"A thousand pounds?" The Great Dumas turned to Arthur sitting beside him and asked, "What’s this about?"

Arthur took a sip of tea, "I told you before, Benjamin’s parliamentary seat is worth more than fifteen hundred pounds. I had already suffered a loss of over a thousand pounds even before he was elected."

Realizing the implication, The Great Dumas looked at Harrison and remarked, "So all this time, that parliamentary seat that Benjamin holds was originally meant for you?"

Harrison waved his hands with a bitter smile, "Let’s not talk about the past. Ever since that incident, I have been completely abandoned by the Tory Party. Even if that seat had not gone to Mr. Disraeli, it would have fallen into someone else’s hands. Alas, I’ve had nothing but bad luck this year; this is truly what one calls ill fortune."

Louis interjected coldly from the side, "In the end, it’s your own carelessness to blame."

Upon hearing this, Harrison instantly became angry, "All I did was make some minor, insignificant mistakes! When it comes to licentiousness, if you combine the House of Lords and the House of Commons, over half of them are not clean. It was just my bad luck to have encountered a Polish lady, which the Whig Party used as an excuse to take advantage of the Polish issue and completely ruined my reputation! Oh, right, I can’t blame it entirely on luck, after all, Mr. Hasting is quite familiar with the details. That Polish beauty must have been meticulously chosen, wasn’t she? What kind of benefits did the Whig Party offer you that you went so far as to even betray a righteous British gentleman, a noble member of the House of Commons?"

To Harrison’s complaints, Arthur simply put down his teacup and responded calmly.

"Mr. Harrison, although I understand your anger, I still must remind you, when you find a lady in your bed rather than a gentleman, you should feel fortunate. A lady might only cause you to lose your parliamentary seat, while a gentleman could get you sentenced to death.

Although the current government is still pushing the reform of the ’Bloody Act,’ due to societal views and the support of the clergy, I believe improper conduct between individuals of the same sex will not be removed from the list of capital offenses for a very long time to come."

Upon hearing this, Harrison turned pale, and even the hand pointing at Arthur trembled slightly.

"Were you all considering putting me to death?"

Instead of answering him directly, Arthur suggested subtly, "Aren’t you curious why, after the incident, the Tory Party didn’t even consider scheming to save your parliamentary seat? As you said earlier, having mistresses, even long-term ones, is not rare among members of parliament.

Your actions were somewhat more indiscreet than other people’s, but not entirely unforgivable. So you should have an idea of what unforgivable thing you did that made the Tory Party deem you a traitor. Your words, even to a police officer like me who has no political stance, seem quite inappropriate. Therefore, Mr. Harrison, reaching this point, you can only blame yourself."

The more Harrison listened, the paler he became; he obviously realized Arthur was referring to his conspiracy to bring down Sir Peel.

But no matter how much Harrison thought about it, he couldn’t understand how Arthur and the internal Tory Party came to know about it.

His lips quivering, he asked softly, "Has someone leaked the information to you? Can you tell me who it was?"

Arthur took a piece of bread and dipped it into the creamy soup in the bowl, "Mr. Harrison, can you keep a secret?"

"Of course I can!"

Arthur shrugged with a smile, "Then so can I."

The Great Dumas, with his arms folded, nodded and said, "Mr. Harrison, don’t take us for fools. Even the Royal Navy’s cartographers know that members of parliament are like latticed windows that appear tightly shut but actually can’t keep out any draft."

"But now I’m no longer a member."

"Oh! That’s even worse!" The Great Dumas exclaimed, "Defeated members of parliament are the ones who talk the most."