The Shadow of Great Britain

228: Chapter 153: The Unfortunate Lady 228: Chapter 153: The Unfortunate Lady After Mil left, Robuck also rose politely and soon took his leave from Arthur and Eld.

“Although I’m not sure what John is planning to do, if he’s unsuccessful, I hope to make some progress on my end.

I have an appointment with Mr.

Edwin Chadwick, the secretary to Mr.

Bentham, in a while, and I need to have a serious talk with him about your matter, to see if there’s anything we can do.”

With that, Robuck smiled, picked up his hat, and left the café.

No sooner had Robuck departed than Eld sprawled out on the café’s seats, “Look at that, look at that!

Our University of London students do have some clout!

Just at your request, both the East India Company and ‘The Westminster Review’ have started to make their moves.”

In contrast to Eld’s inexplicably high confidence, Arthur seemed unusually calm.

He tasted his coffee, in which the bitterness was mitigated by the milk: “I had thought that changing locations might free me from the burden of social obligations, but now it seems that no matter where you are, you have to pay attention to these things.

Government promotions are all about your connections, and that’s even after the reforms.

I can’t even imagine how deep the corruption and chaos were within the government before the civil service reforms.”

Eld tossed a biscuit into his mouth, “The previous era?

That was quite a remarkable time.

I heard from my uncle that at the end of the 18th century, when he was just an ordinary Captain, it was almost an open secret within the Navy Department to buy and sell offices.

The Navy Department’s Paymaster, Charlie Middleton, was making 300 guineas a year just by selling subordinate positions, and he didn’t even bother to go to work himself, instead he took out £500 from his salary to pay someone to handle his job, while he spent the rest of his earnings and the income from selling offices on horse betting and card playing, living a rather dashing life.”

Arthur, stroking his chin, said, “I’m not surprised to hear about such things in the Navy Department, given how high the salaries are over there.

But if it were the Home Office, I bet it wouldn’t be so easy to fool around, would it?”

Eld raised an eyebrow, “Indeed!

It’s widely known that the salaries of the civil servants and the subordinate departments in the Home Office are quite low.

That’s exactly why the chief clerk of your Home Office spends £60 to find someone to stand in for him.

On the other side, he receives payment for acting in the stead of senior officials in the Lord Chancellor’s office.

I saw in a parliamentary work report that he seems to make an extra income of £227 and 3 shillings a year from this part-time job, which is much higher than his regular job.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but widen his eyes and stare at Eld for quite some time.

Eld felt uncomfortable under his gaze and asked dissatisfiedly, “What are you looking at me for?”

Arthur put down his coffee cup and apologized to Eld with embarrassment, “Eld, it seems I misunderstood you all this time.”

“Misunderstood me about what?” Eld asked nonchalantly, munching on a biscuit.

Arthur sighed and said, “I used to think you’d only read some erotic literature at most.

I never thought you’d actually read parliamentary work reports.”

Eld snorted through his nose, “What do you know?

Parliamentary work reports are dirtier than erotic literature.

Sometimes, what’s written in there is even worse than the sewers of the East End of London.

Mourn for me, Arthur, for that aspiring young man, Eld Carter, is dead.

Now, standing before you is nothing but a shell filled with desire, and topics like embezzlement and corruption have always been of utmost interest to me.

“Embezzling public funds for interest, for instance, is child’s play among civil servants.

If it weren’t for the parliamentary work reports, I couldn’t even imagine that they could turn corruption into an art form.”

“They start by recording the Treasury’s ledger using Arabic numerals, then transcribe it into formal Latin copies.

The first alteration is made when reporting to the Treasury, another one when the Treasury makes the budget, and further changes occur when the budget is distributed to each department.

With all these changes back and forth, mistakes in transcript copying are normal.

They take advantage of these errors to embezzle funds from here and there.”

“Thanks to this trickery, the Army Department’s accounts come up short by forty to fifty thousand pounds every year, and the land tax office in 1780 declared thirty-nine thousand pounds less than what they actually collected.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, “Although I know the financial audits of the departments are usually a sham, to be short thirty-nine thousand pounds in 1780 for just the land tax is a bit of an exaggeration, isn’t it?

Even if the audit office outsourced their duties, they can’t be that incompetent, can they?”

Eld cursed and punched the table, “Audit office?

Those bastards are the fattest leeches of them all!

During the American War of Independence, when we were fighting those rebels, two auditors from the Army Department alone pocketed tips of 16,565 pounds and 10,331 pounds in just one year.

Think about it, why would anyone give them so much in tips for no reason?”

Arthur, unable to suppress a smile, swore jokingly, “Eld, you remember this too damn well, all the way to the last digit.

If you could apply this memory to scientific research, even Sir Isaac Newton, the only sun in your heart, couldn’t shake your status in the slightest.”

Eld nodded in agreement and said, “Honestly, I’ve always believed that Sir Isaac Newton’s invention of calculus had everything to do with his position as the warden of the Royal Mint.

If I had his job, my math skills would surely improve immensely.

I’ve never been interested in doing calculations on draft paper, but if you put me in charge of counting money, I would overcome the poor mathematical intellect that’s been passed down in the Carter family.”

Arthur replied with a laugh, “But instead of becoming the High Chancellor, you might as well swallow your pride and borrow some money from your uncle to study at the Inns of Court.

As long as you get a legal practicing certificate, if you end up in the Lord Chancellor’s office, I guarantee you’ll make a killing.

As you know, since the overthrow of Charles I and the establishment of the Long Parliament in 1640, judges’ salaries have always been high.

By that time, their salary was already fixed at a thousand pounds a year, and that money came directly from customs revenue, unaffected even by the Treasury’s budget planning.

After the Act of Settlement was passed in 1701, besides the fixed salary, many legitimate additional incomes were added, like appointment fees for clerks of their courts, judgment fees, litigation settlement fees, office supplies fees, and a bunch of other additional allowances that I can’t even list.

All these miscellaneous incomes added up to at least an extra five to six hundred pounds.”

Of course, it’s not out of the question that some judges might be gaining wealth through illegal channels we don’t know about.

For example, when the Beer Act failed to pass recently, the issuance of licenses for pubs still needed the local magistrate to grant permission.”

Given Eld’s character, he should be dazzled upon hearing these things, but Mr.

Carter, who had just been passionately discussing embezzlement and corruption, fell into a quiet state.

He stirred his coffee cup with a spoon while frowning tightly, as if listening to something.

Arthur saw his expression, all set to ask a question.

Yet suddenly, Eld raised his hand to interrupt him, his ears twitching, “Shh!

Be quiet, I think I hear the sound of a beautiful lady crying.”

“A lady is crying?”

Arthur looked around the coffee shop, where customers were sparse at this early hour, and he quickly spotted the person Eld mentioned.

In the corner of the hall on the eastern side, he noticed a lady wearing a beige wide-brimmed hat.

Red Devil, who had originally been leaning against the window, couldn’t help but bring his hands to his chest and began to recite poetry in praise of her appearance,

“Black hair, simply styled into a bow at the back of her head.

Beneath two dark eyebrows, a pair of black eyes brimming with sorrow, the proud and straight bridge of the nose complements the curved arc of the lips.

Tranquil and serene, your sealed lips have lost their smile, the breadth of your forehead cannot change the narrowness of his heart.

Oh, my girl, why entrust your fate to another?

With your broad and resolute forehead, imagine, who could be the Messiah to save your destiny?”

Caught up in poetic fervor, Arthur, Britain’s foremost literary critic, couldn’t help but glance at him and commented, “Fate, and bloody Messiah, quite a mystical air there!”

Eld thought Arthur was mocking him and glowered, “Arthur, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing.” Arthur lifted his chin slightly and gestured towards the silent, tear-wiping lady in the corner, “The crying lady over there, seems like we know her.”

“You know her?”

Eld almost had his eyes popping out as he muttered fiercely, “Arthur, damn it, how come every woman you know?

Have you really turned into Scotland Yard’s Paganini?

The charming musical master?

Playing the violin just to earn your bread?

Touring Europe just a side gig?

Paganini, his hands that captured the wings of music—one plunged into filthy gambles, the other into the drapes of prostitutes with the stench of sweat.

And you, your hands skillful with the exquisite Fiore Style sword techniques—one delves into the dirty East End of London, where are you planning to stick the other?”

Arthur pressed his palms downward to urge him to cool down, “Calm down, Eld, one hand is in the East End of London, and I intend to offer the other to the field of electromagnetism research.

Of course, I can’t guarantee it will stay that way.

Because if I get sacked this time, the hand I withdraw from the East End might consider reaching somewhere else.”

Eld pointed a finger in warning, “Before my problem is solved, that hand of yours isn’t allowed to go anywhere.

Alexander, that flirt already has a son, and Charles is secretly heating things up with some mysterious girl.

If you beat me to it, how can I ever face staying at Lancaster Gate?”

Arthur sympathized, “If you can’t face it, you can move out.

I’ve always been against forcing you, I believe people should have the freedom to migrate.”

“Ah…” Eld covered his face, a visage of deep sorrow, “Arthur, I didn’t think you held our friendship so lightly.

Are you forcing me onto the streets?”

“Onto the streets?

You’re my friend, how could I just watch you sleep rough?”

Upon hearing that, Eld humphed and crossed his arms, “I guess you do have some conscience left.”

Seeing him like this, Arthur laughed, “Eld, have you forgotten what I do for a living?

I’m a policeman, and if I find you sleeping rough, I most certainly will have you locked up.

Especially in an area like this, next to Hyde Park.”

At these words, Eld was just about to retort.

But then, the coffee shop’s bell rang, and in walked a gentleman wearing a black top hat.

Arthur took a glance at the man, then subtly pressed his own hat down a bit, just enough to cover his eyes.

Eld was puzzled, “What are you doing?

It was just a joke, no need to look so ashamed.”

Without elaborating to the blunt Eld, Arthur muttered, “Viscount Melbourne?

What is he doing here?”