The Shadow of Great Britain

433: Chapter 243: The Three Musketeers (5K4)_2 433: Chapter 243: The Three Musketeers (5K4)_2 Lafayette said that this gun had been produced in 1804 and had accompanied him through countless years, witnessing the end of the Republic, the rise of the Empire, the return of the monarchy, and now it had lived through the July Revolution.

He was old now and could no longer keep accompanying this gun, only a hero like me deserves to continue possessing it!”

Upon hearing this, Arthur nodded and said, “If that’s the case, then this gun does indeed carry significant meaning.

But since you don’t want to give it to me, why did you bring it out?”

Great Dumas emphasized, “Arthur, can’t you use your clever brain?

If you find a virtuous and beautiful lady to be your lover, would you hide her away?

Of course, you’d bring her out!

Everyone who sees you with such a fine lover will naturally understand your strength.

But while you can admire, if you covet her, then don’t blame me for putting a few holes in your head.”

Arthur took a drag on his cigarette, exhaling a burst of white smoke: “The French literary giant’s metaphors are as wonderfully peculiar as ever, Alexander.

At times like this, I never know whether to criticize whether it’s the French lineage talking, or if it’s the affliction of being a literary man.”

Great Dumas raised an eyebrow: “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just think that French people and literary men are somewhat alike in certain aspects.”

“Such as?”

Arthur took another drag and said, “All in all, both identities are quite flamboyant.”

Great Dumas chuckled: “Arthur, look at what you’re saying, you’re one of the pillars of the ‘British.’ You don’t need to be modest in this regard, although you might still be somewhat away from me, you’re almost on the threshold of a literary man.

The plot you suggested Charles add at the end of ‘St.

George’s flag still rises’ was quite poignant.”

Eld, depressed, after witnessing the light of St.

Elmo bestowed by God, spent a sleepless, silent night.

And when he discovered the great shark attacking the crew, he resolutely chose to dive into the sea and duel with the shark.

After a grueling tug-of-war, he finally conquered the cruel shark.

The next morning, the tourists at the dockside restaurant’s terrace pointed at the huge shark being towed by the Beagle’s stern, noticing its thick long white spinal column and the large dorsal fin.

Their exclamations were uninterrupted: ‘What is that?’

The restaurant waiter, while wiping dishes, casually replied: ‘It’s a shark.’

The lady gently adjusted her sun hat, and murmured in fascination: ‘I never knew sharks had such majestic, beautifully shaped tails.’

As the tourists’ exclamations continued, Eld lay face down in the crew’s rest room aboard the ship, fast asleep, while Mr.

Charles Darwin sat beside him keeping watch.

Suddenly, a faint smile appeared on Eld’s face, and he clutched the cross tightly in his hand, the depressive darkness had vanished.

At that moment, he dreamed of a majestic lion.”

With this, Great Dumas couldn’t help but laugh heartily and punched Arthur in the chest: “Arthur, fucking brilliant!

The first time I read that part, I was laughing so hard my stomach nearly twisted.

If I didn’t know Eld, I might’ve thought he was some American tough guy or a devout Crusader.

But upon reflection, that passage indeed has some fucking poetic touch to it.

You see, I can almost recite it now.”

Arthur replied calmly: “Alexander, you flatter me too much, just like how you adapted Mr.

Victor’s experiences in ‘The Count of Monte Cristo.’ I merely artistically modified Eld’s image in ‘St.

George’s flag still rises.’ Alexander, you must know, art comes from life but is above life.”

“Of course, I know,” Great Dumas laughed until he teared up: “It’s just that I feel you’ve taken this ‘modification’ a bit too far, so much so that it feels like there’s not much life left, just fucking all art.”

Arthur took a puff of his cigarette and said: “Alexander, at times I don’t know whether your words are praising me or criticizing me.”

Great Dumas slung an arm around Arthur’s shoulder: “Don’t take it too hard, buddy, just think of it as the relationship between France and a literary man, you’re also quite flamboyant now.

Considering we’re both similarly flamboyant, apart from that gun from the thirteenth year of the French Republic, pick any and consider it a gift from me.

But speaking of which, didn’t you say you’d gotten hold of a revolver?

If so, why come to me to see the goods?”

Arthur replied helplessly: “The technology of that revolver isn’t mature yet, the failure rate is somewhat high.

Although I have urged several times, these things can’t be rushed; Mr.

Colt is already making all efforts to improve it.

Most importantly, that gun is just a prototype, and there are no production lines in London, so every improvement requires ordering specific parts from factories, which just delays everything.”

While fondling his beloved gun, Great Dumas asked: “But isn’t your duel with Francois Bertrand supposed to be a swordfight?

Why suddenly bring a gun into this?”

Arthur shook his head: “The duel with him, to be exact, is an unrestricted combat match.

Honestly, just bringing a gun is quite polite of me.

I was even planning to bring a pitchfork to fight, but it turns out pitchforks are harder to borrow than I expected, some people are just too stingy.”