The Shadow of Great Britain

259: Chapter 172 Tsarist Russia Representative (4K)_2 259: Chapter 172 Tsarist Russia Representative (4K)_2 “However, if I may speak frankly, reaching their level of achievement, height really isn’t important anymore.

During the Napoleonic Wars, masses of tall men wouldn’t dare to even let out a breath in front of them.

Even though they were short in stature, it didn’t prevent them from becoming military giants.”

Lady Livon asked, “So, are you prepared to go head-to-head with the giant, Duke Wellington, this time?

Currently, it seems the British stance on Belgian independence is rather ambiguous—they neither explicitly support it nor oppose it.

For Russia, this is not good news.

“His Majesty the Tsar must have given you a written mandate before you came, right?

If I’m not mistaken, in line with our consistent policy, he definitely wants you to seek British support, continue to pressure France, and ensure that an independent Belgium returns under Dutch control.

Only then can the encirclement of France be complete without gaps.

If the Dutch lose Belgium, they wouldn’t be able to stop the French from expanding eastward with their current strength.”

Count Orlov nodded, “That’s the logic, but although the British find the French disagreeable, they might not be particularly comfortable with us either.

Since Britain’s Cordington shattered the navy of Ottoman Turkey at the Battle of Navarino, the resistance against us entering the Mediterranean from the Black Sea has been entirely swept away.

“Both the British Navy Department and the Foreign Office seem quite furious about it.

So, shortly after the Battle of Navarino, they had Cordington reassigned to the Channel Fleet to cool his heels.

You’ve made a secret report about this to His Majesty the Tsar yourself, haven’t you?

“Seeing our Black Sea fleet sailing freely through the Mediterranean feels like grit in the eyes of the British, unbearable.

I suspect this is an important reason why they are ambiguous about Belgian independence.

“If possible, I hope you can help me figure out the current British foreign policy.

I urgently need to know whether they still regard France as the primary threat in Europe.”

Hearing this, Lady Livon just smiled and replied, “If the Tory Party had been in power until recently, I would have outright refused your request.

Despite my good relationship with Duke Wellington, that old man is notoriously tight-lipped—extracting useful information from him is harder than climbing to heaven.”

“Dorothea,” Count Orlov grinned, “does that mean the situation has changed now?”

“Indeed, there has been a turn.”

Lady Livon twirled her hair behind her ear and smiled, “The Foreign Secretary now is my dear Henry.

His appointment to this position was influenced not just by Lady Copper but also by my strong recommendation.

Frankly, Henry, that old Lothario, initially wanted to go to the Treasury.

“But I told him that the competition for that position was too fierce and, with his standing in the party, he’d be better off aiming for another important seat in the Cabinet.

Others might not achieve much in the Foreign Office, but he has me.

Through my network, I can share with him some inside information that’s hard for others to come by.”

Count Orlov responded with a playful taunt, “How sad it sounds!

Dorothea, and here I thought you were with Viscount Palmeston for love.”

Twisting a finger in her hair, Lady Livon winked teasingly, “Well, there’s love to some extent.

It’s quite delightful being with Henry; he knows how to get along with women.

But this is Britain after all, and when in Britain, one must do as the British do.

Mutual benefit is what we call love; one-sided taking is slavery.

A proper Russian might not quite understand this, but the British call it free trade, the commodity economy.”

Count Orlov burst into laughter, “It seems the Tsar wasn’t wrong in saying that putting Dorothea in Britain is as good as having half of a Third Section.

Your father should have all the foreign intelligence officers from that department come over here to learn from you.

I’ve been going through their documents recently and they’re giving me a headache.

They’re writing brainless, circuitous stuff—vague information.

Such useless intelligence, a couple of chickens with ink on their feet could produce more insightful reports than they do.”

Lady Living hesitated after hearing this but still couldn’t resist offering a tactful defense for the Third Department, which after all was subordinate to her father, and part of its specialists even resided within the Russian Embassy.

Lady Living said, “Aleksey, you should know that the Third Department is in a difficult position.

Intelligence isn’t so easy to gather, and sometimes even when there isn’t any information in that area, if the Tsar insists there is, the Third Department’s report must include it.

Even if it means adding some of their own conjecture, they still have to produce a report.”

“The Tsar is such an action-oriented person that his subordinates have to keep up with his grand ambitions.

It’s precisely for this reason that he didn’t allow the tragedy of the 1824 St.

Petersburg flood to repeat itself, and his performance during the recent 1830 Moscow cholera epidemic was nothing short of awe-inspiring.”

“I bet if the cholera had broken out in Britain, their handling couldn’t have been as good as Russia’s,” she added convincingly.

Upon hearing Lady Living mention this, Orlov couldn’t help but remember something and, laughing, said, “Speaking of cholera, do you know about the Duke of Begendorf’s affair?”

When Lady Living heard that name, she couldn’t help but share a bit of the wicked amusement, “Has his Excellency found another way to amuse himself at the Tsar’s expense?”

Orlov pressed his lips together and said, “After the cholera ended, he submitted a report that said—’it seems that in the face of the Tsar’s limitless power, the disease itself has admitted defeat.’ Of course, I’m inclined to believe this statement is without any irony.”

“Exactly, just like the last time the Tsar wanted to crack down on corruption and talked with him.

The Tsar said, ‘I will use glowing hot iron to root out the acts of bribery!’” echoed Lady Living.

Earl Orlov continued, “And the Duke of Begendorf replied, ‘Your Majesty, with whom then do you plan to remain?’”

At this point, a burst of cheerful laughter erupted in the Embassy’s drawing room, and even a few Russian military officers standing at the door smoking couldn’t help but turn their faces away, their shoulders shaking, clearly amused.

However, amidst the laughter and chatter in the drawing room, no one noticed a shadow pass swiftly by the door of the room where the bellows were placed.

Little Pinkerton crawled from the ventilation shaft with a letter in his mouth, struggling to move through the tight space inch by inch, and when he noticed a glimmer of light at the darkened exit, Arthur was spotted squatting on the wall, leaning on a thick branch and smoking.

Arthur noticed the movement at the vent, turned his head to look, and first seemed startled, then smiled and said, “Kid, you really do bring surprises my way.

I only asked you to scout out the layout inside the ventilation ducts so we wouldn’t mistake our way in next time.

I didn’t expect you’d bring me some of the Embassy’s special produce on your first go.”

He reached out and lifted Pinkerton from the vent and then agilely flipped out.

As his boots hit the ground, the carriage waiting at the roadside hurriedly swung open its door, and Eld inside frantically waved them over, saying, “Get in quick, I’ve calculated it already, the Embassy guards make their rounds here every three minutes on average.

Looking at the time, they’re about to show up.”