The Shadow of Great Britain

561: Chapter 288: Children’s Immigration Plan_2 561: Chapter 288: Children’s Immigration Plan_2 I once spoke with a seven-year-old girl there, a child who didn’t know the meaning of ‘play,’ who knew of Jesus but not of God.

She had never left that cramped area since she was born, had never seen trees or grass, and didn’t know what a beautiful daisy was.

“In the face of such circumstances, do you still insist on having them remain in the sinful East End, denying them the opportunity to seek new chances in overseas colonies?”

As soon as Blunton finished speaking, he felt as though gravity had ceased to work on him.

A feeling of suffocation made his face turn red in an instant.

It was only then that he noticed that someone had grabbed his collar, and he was hanging in midair.

Only then did he remember that standing in front of him was not just a polite young man, but also a government hawk who specialized in dirty and tiring jobs.

“Mr.

Blunton, I told you, I’m only giving you three minutes.

If you sincerely seek help, please bring up some issues that I can solve, instead of questioning me about moral factors.

I have already asked myself too much about moral matters in the past year.

So, right now, I would rather talk about practical matters.

All I want to know is, what can I do?”

The Red Devil, seeing this, just shook his head in disdain.

“Arthur, I told you earlier, just shoot him and the problem is solved.

Why ask so many questions if it doesn’t solve the problem?”

Blunton’s collar was suddenly released, and he fell to the ground, gasping for air while clutching at his throat: “How rude!

You are incredibly rude.”

Arthur leaned on the bar, nodded at the bartender who had gathered to watch, gesturing for all the onlookers to leave.

He struck a match to light his pipe, flipped open his coat to reveal a handgun.

“Mr.

Blunton, you have one more minute.

I assure you, if you don’t clarify the issue, more rudeness is to come.”

Blunton hadn’t anticipated this attitude from Arthur, given their brief encounter today.

This young officer wasn’t at all warm as described in the newspapers, nor was he easy to get along with as Schwaiger had said.

He was purely an unreasonable thug.

Blunton, gasping for breath, propped himself up on a table: “Mr.

Schwaiger’s ship has been detained, and our children’s immigration program cannot proceed smoothly.

What’s worse, the Harbor Office informed us recently that the Colonial Affairs Department’s latest regulation is that, during the cholera period, all civilian immigration applications will be frozen.

As it stands, the several hundred wandering children have already been in Liverpool for two full months.

If this continues, the funds we’ve gathered will soon run dry.

Worse yet, even if we harden our hearts and let them revert to wandering, given the current situation, each parish, fearing the introduction of cholera, is racing to expel vagrants.”

If the children go back to wandering, then they can only roam between the edges of towns or unregulated wooded areas.

As you know, under these circumstances, they wouldn’t last many days.”

As Arthur listened to Blunton’s explanation, he pulled out a pair of white gloves and put them on.

“The decision of the Colonial Affairs Department is beyond my power to overturn.

Since they decided to halt civilian immigration, it’s halted.

Honestly, transporting hundreds on a Royal Navy penal ship is too conspicuous.”

Moreover, compared to you, I am more doubtful about whether the Royal Navy would respect the lives of these wandering children.

After all, their sailors get whipped from time to time; they’re even less likely to care about others.

However, if it’s just about solving these wandering children’s basic needs during the cholera period, I might be able to offer some suggestions.”

Blunton thought that Arthur wouldn’t help, and he was dragging his aching legs to leave.

Upon hearing this, he couldn’t help but turn back abruptly: “What suggestions do you have?”

Arthur pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at it.

“Tomorrow afternoon at five, bring your association’s accounts and meet me at the Golden Lion Inn at the old pier.

If nothing unexpected happens, by then, everything regarding food and drink should be settled.”

With that, Arthur pushed open the door and walked out.

But halfway out, he seemed to recall something and turned back to shout to Blunton: “As for today’s portion, remember to see Mr.

Schwaiger to collect it.

Tell him, sales of the magazine have been good recently, so the advertising slots have gone up in value a bit.”

The Devil Agares, hovering beside Arthur, scoffed at this: “You might as well say this is the tithe to God.”

Arthur ignored the Red Devil’s mockery and continued on his way, putting on his hat: “Didn’t you say you wanted to discuss business with me?

Where’s the opportunity to make a fortune?”

Agares strolled leisurely with his hands clasped behind his back, and the wicked Red Devil kicked a black cat that was basking in the sun, saying, “”A little tip for you, someone is plotting against you.”

“That tip isn’t worth a dime,” Arthur took a drag of his cigarette, “and it doesn’t pique my interest to buy it.”

“Oh, my dear Arthur,” The Red Devil grinned, “don’t be in such a hurry, I haven’t finished yet.

The ones who want to deal with you aren’t just a group, and not only from Liverpool.”

Arthur continued walking as if nothing was amiss, “Go on.”

The Red Devil widened his eyes, “Now, you’ll have to pay!”

Arthur stopped and asked, “The price?”

“Oh, the price!” Agares punched the air excitedly, “What a marvelous word!

Arthur, do you know how hard it is to make a deal with you?

You little rascal, almost all the high-end stuff at your house was gifted, from violins to gramophones!”

“Can’t help it,” Arthur nonchalantly cleaned out his ears, “Everyone is just too enthusiastic.”

Agares said, “I won’t ask for much from you, as a premium customer, I just want the remaining souls you have.

Let’s settle the account with this deal.”

“That cheap?” Now Arthur became suspicious.

“Cheap?

Of course, my services are always cost-effective.

Honestly, if it weren’t for the fact that I saw you getting some extra cash and losing your drive, I wouldn’t bother with those pirates’ souls at all.

They’re too salty and come with a whiff of sweat, biting into them feels like bursting into expired beer.”

“Agares, that’s because you don’t know how to appreciate them.

Liquor-filled chocolates are a real treasure.”

“Bullshit!

Only a brain-dead fool would like that stuff.”

Perhaps because he had suppressed his feelings for too long, the delighted Red Devil, proud to avoid a zero in this year’s sales at the year’s end, said too much.

Agares adjusted a red bow tie he had swiped from somewhere, and in a tone like an Italian tenor, announced, “I’ve accidentally learned that merchants from the Liverpool association gathered this morning for a brief meeting.

The main discussion was whether to give you a taste of something sweet or to show you something much tougher has better value for your money.”

Arthur leaned against the alley wall, smoking a cigarette, “And the conclusion?”

The Red Devil rubbed his hands with a sly grin, “Some wanted to play it soft, some hard, and the final decision, of course, was a mix of both.

Honestly, after all these years, the changes in Britain still astonish me.

The energy of the merchants is incomparable to before.

They are no longer the pitiful people kneeling beside the nobility begging; they have become possessors of power who can turn clouds with a flip of the hand.

Not only do the Liverpool association have old Whigs and old Tories, more importantly, they have the ability to extend their connections to London, and thereby influence the decisions of the Government.

Based on what I’ve gathered so far, they have already begun operating within the nearest Parliament and Treasury.

You better be more careful.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur merely replied, “Is that all?

Agares, I have to say, the price of your information is a bit inflated.

If you were an informant for Scotland Yard, I surely would have offered you some severance pay to return where you came from.”

“Oh, Arthur, you really are impatient,” the Red Devil covered his mouth and snickered, “Liverpool might find you a bit annoying and want to send you packing quickly, but the guy from London, he actually wants your life.”