The Shadow of Great Britain

452: 250 452: 250 Arthur was startled and muttered to Louis Bonaparte at his side, “What’s all this about?”

Louis Bonaparte coughed softly and, lowering his voice, said, “It was Mr.

Rothschild’s idea, Mr.

Disraeli wrote the article, Mr.

Dumas provided the honorable mention, The Times’ promotion yesterday, the front-page headline of the Daily News.

Haven’t you read the papers today?

I placed it on the second pile on your desk, right under the police conference documents.”

Only then did Arthur understand what was going on.

He couldn’t help shaking his head, “I’ve been so busy dealing with priests and Gladstone today, I haven’t had a chance to look at the papers.

Now they’ve gone and made a big deal out of it.

Those three bastards are really going all out to make money!”

Louis Bonaparte simply said softly, “Actually, this is quite good.

I’ve heard that the ticket prices for this fencing duel have been skyrocketing.

If it weren’t for this, how could we possibly…”

He stopped there, glancing at the briefcase he was carrying, then said, “Commander, let’s not talk any further and get down to business.”

But before Arthur could speak, Bertrand had already turned around, “Mr.

Hastings, why are you standing at the door?

Come in and take a seat, I assure you I have neither a sword nor a gun with me today.”

Arthur responded with a radiant smile, “Of course, what happens on the stage stays on the stage; we can certainly be friends off it.

I always separate work from life, as I believe you do too.”

The two sat down at the table, and Bertrand, looking up at the decor and the mural meant to add pomp, couldn’t help exclaiming, “Though this decoration is nothing compared to the luxurious restaurants in London, this is, after all, the East End of London.

It’s surprising that the East End has a restaurant private room like this.”

Arthur took a sip of his tea, the bitterness causing him to frown slightly, “The dirty, narrow streets of the East End often give people the wrong impression.

In reality, there are some unknown treasures here, much like this private room.

Mr.

Bertrand, there is no need for you to be so amazed.”

Bertrand laughed, “Of course, but what surprised me more, is that you would invite me to meet in a restaurant in the East End.

When I received the invitation initially, I thought someone was playing a joke on me.

Even now, I still harbor such doubts.

Are you really Mr.

Arthur Hastings?”

Arthur added a lump of sugar to his tea and replied, “Whether I am Arthur Hastings is not important; what’s important is that I have come to make friends with you.

Just as I said earlier, the swordsmanship competition doesn’t really matter; it’s just a job.

Rather than the simple outcome of winning or losing, I value the person that you are.

Although we have only known each other for a short time, your few words have already made me realize that you are quite affable.”

Upon hearing this, Bertrand leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, “Speak plainly, Mr.

Hastings.

I don’t like beating around the bush, nor do I like the sun hidden behind London’s clouds.

As you know, the French have a different style than the Britons.”

Louis Bonaparte frowned upon hearing this conversation.

His hand hanging down, he was about to reach into his pocket, but before he could, Arthur gently pressed his hand down.

Arthur said with a smile, “Oh, excellent.

Mr.

Bertrand, to be frank, I’m also straight to the point.

It’s hard to find such a disposition in Britain; if not for that, I couldn’t have made friends with a Frenchman.

You might not be aware, but I even have a French lodger.

In fact, inviting you here today, I have no other intention; I just want to settle accounts with you.

I would like to know, how much did you receive as appearance money from the organizers?”

“You went to all this trouble just to ask that?” Bertrand felt somewhat speechless, and replied, “Fifty British Pounds.”

Arthur, counting on his fingers, said, “As far as I know, there are over ten thousand tickets prepared for this match.

Four thousand standing tickets at six pennies, four thousand seated tickets at one shilling, one thousand five hundred premium and balcony tickets at three shillings, and another five hundred box tickets at half a pound each.

Moreover, this is just the official price; if tickets are bought from scalpers, the price is even higher.

And this doesn’t even include the revenue from the theater bar during the performance.

In other words, this match, even by the lowest estimate of revenue, is making at least 775 British Pounds just from ticket sales.

And you’re willing to risk your life in a duel against me for just fifty pounds—don’t you think that’s a rather low price to pay?”

Upon hearing this, Bertrand asked with a frown, “Mr.

Hastings, what are you implying?”

“No, I don’t mean anything,” Arthur replied, arms resting on the table, fingers interlocked and supporting his chin with a smile, “I simply want to make friends with you.”

Bertrand responded formally, “Mr.

Hastings, besides the fact that this match concerns honor, it seems that we are not exactly friends.”

Arthur laughed softly, “No matter, we will be soon.”

At that, he called out, “Louis.”

At this cue, Louis Bonaparte slammed the briefcase he was carrying onto the table, unlocked the case, yanked open the lid, and a pile of brand-new British Pounds instantly appeared before Bertrand’s eyes.

Bertrand was taken aback at first but quickly stood up in shock, “What…

what are you doing?!”

Arthur gestured for him to sit down, then pointed to the case full of British Pounds and cheerfully replied, “We haven’t planned to do anything, Mr.

Bertrand.

You may not know, but while I have few friends, I have many British Pounds.

So, as you see, I am simply looking to make a friend with you.”