The Shadow of Great Britain

726: Chapter 348: The Great Game_2 726: Chapter 348: The Great Game_2 Fiona forced a smile, “My dear, you’re always so thoughtful.”

Arthur casually flipped open the hefty “Bible” that lay on the table and read softly, “And then, Joshua secretly sent two men to spy out the land from Shittim, instructing them, ‘Go view the land and Jericho.’ So, the two men went and entered the house of a prostitute named Rahab and lay there.”

The Red Devil who was watching the spectacle couldn’t help but let out a sinister laugh, revealing his sharp and frightening fangs, “Oh, the story of Rahab, huh?

Arthur, you really know how to pick them!

There couldn’t be a more fitting bedtime story for this lovely lady.”

By this time, Fiona’s complexion had already changed.

Although she had not received a complete education, she was still aware of this passage from the Bible.

In the past, when God planned to attack Canaan, He said to Prophet Moses, “Send men to spy out the land of Canaan.”

And ten years after Moses’ spies had infiltrated Canaan, Joshua finally decided to lead his troops to attack Jericho.

Before the attack, Joshua decided to send two spies to gather information in the city, leading to the story Arthur had started reciting.

The king of Jericho learned of the true identities of the two spies and sent guards to capture them.

But the prostitute Rahab hid them and told the guards that the spies had already escaped.

In return for protecting the spies, Rahab requested, “When your army takes the city, you must not kill my father, mother, brothers, and sisters, and you must not plunder their possessions.”

After breaching the city, Joshua’s army kept their promise to Rahab, first escorting her and her relatives out of the city, and then they put Jericho to the sword.

As a bedtime story, this tale was undoubtedly a failure.

But its effect of invigorating and awakening the mind was exactly what Arthur was aiming for.

In Fiona’s view, although Arthur did not have the capacity to play the role of Joshua’s army and his usual manner as an officer of Scotland Yard did not include the option of putting cities to the sword,

but if this Scotland Yard detective didn’t go before those high and mighty ‘Joshuas’ to speak highly of her…

The sword that Scotland Yard had raised against her colleagues over the past six months would soon be coming down on her own neck.

To this, Fiona could only speak resentfully, “My dear, as a prostitute, why must I be Rahab and not Mary Magdalene?”

“Sorry, Fiona, that’s my fault,”

Arthur replied with a smile, “I am not Jesus, not the Savior, so naturally, you cannot be like Mary Magdalene and receive redemption by anointing me.”

Upon hearing this, the Red Devil commented playfully, “Arthur, that’s not a very auspicious thing to say.

Are you already prepared to be crucified?”

Then, he picked up his prim monocle, took out the “The Gospel of Mark” that he had been carrying for many years, and read, “When Jesus was taken for trial, all his disciples left him and fled.

As the Lord was crucified, the circumstances were exceedingly grim, yet she alone followed Jesus to the foot of the cross, witnessing the Lord’s suffering, his last breath, and burial.”

“It shows her pure faith and her determination to stay with the Lord until the end, so she bravely stayed close to the Lord in the presence of His enemies.

The Lord would say, ‘Whosoever therefore shall confess me before men, him will I confess also before my Father which is in heaven.

But whosoever shall deny me before men, him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven.’”

Arthur paid no attention to Agares’s threat.

Since the Liverpool case, he had simply come to understand a very simple principle—if one is already in the game and lacks the power to overturn the chessboard, then at the very least, one should try to become one with the chessboard.

Only by making those people realize that without one corner, the chessboard is incomplete for the game, can he avoid being forced every so often to preemptively take over the news headlines of London’s various newspapers.

Although these acts were indecent and dangerous, at least they could provide one with a clear cause of death.

In contrast to Arthur’s active preparations, there was a certain disdainful attitude among many of the British government officials.

He hadn’t consulted anyone when arranging affairs in the brothel.

After all, officials from the Home Office said it was hard to imagine an officer, who was mingling with prostitutes, would suddenly start talking about the caliber and speed of howitzer shells.

Likewise, diplomats submerged in carnal pleasures were unlikely to blurt out the details of secret agreements.

Or rather, because gentlemen deemed it an ineffective task unworthy of their time, most people clung to the belief that a man of honor should not exchange private correspondence.

Engaging in such actions would inevitably lead to public scorn; therefore, the heavy burden of espionage fell onto the shoulders of men like Arthur, a York pig herder.

Just as Fouche had risen in France, and as Mr.

Schneider, the man currently in charge of intelligence at the Foreign Office, 19th-century intelligence officers had one thing in common—their lowly birth and humble beginnings.

As retribution for the Liverpool case, Arthur’s greatest wish was twofold; he wanted to understand what kind of play the Whig and Tory parties were actually putting on.

Though the newspapers seemed to clearly state the baseline demands of both parties, as far as the Liverpool case was concerned, it appeared that there was no unity in the voices within their ranks.

And in the year 1832, ravaged by cholera, even the smallest discord could be magnified by the fear and suspicion brought about by the disease.

Even though Arthur had subtly put forth his suggestions to the Central Health Committee, by British tradition, it was likely they would only consider addressing the disease with unprecedented ruthlessness during the summer, when the cholera virus was most active.

This could be gleaned from the Cabinet’s recent relaxation of quarantine restrictions, mistaking the reduced virulence due to lower winter temperatures as a sign of great improvements in combating the epidemic.

Parliamentary reform had become the main theme at present.

There was still no shortage of news on cholera, yet it did not dominate the headlines as it once had.

Amusingly, from the letters Victor had passed to Arthur, it seemed the French harbored the same belief.

In just a few weeks, Britain and France had emerged from the shadow of cholera.

Paris was debating the legitimacy of Louis Philippe, Britain was busy downsizing the Army, and at the London Police Intelligence Bureau, Mr.

Hastings was hastening the training of his police officers.

Fiona merely sighed mournfully, “Darling, you know your charm is irresistible to me.

But frankly, those beauties who maintain long-term relations with the rich and powerful usually don’t like to work in a pleasure house.

They have their own channels and serve only a select few, or even just one person.”

Arthur lit his pipe, “That’s fine.

If you know such ladies, they can contact me directly.

As for your establishment, even if it doesn’t attract those real dignitaries, drawing in some common officers or lower-level civil servants will suffice.”

Fiona pressed her lips together and squinted, “Your words sound as if you never had much hope in me from the start.”

“No, Fiona, you’re far more important to me than those few kittens,” Arthur replied.

“Though lower and middle-rank personnel may not grasp the whole picture, the image that emerges when piecing together what they’ve seen is often more real and detailed than what the top brass perceives.”

“You always know how to please me,” Fiona said with a smile, pressing her face against Arthur’s, “Tell me the truth; all your preamble can’t just be for getting contacts of those beauties, can it?

After enduring hardship, maybe you want to taste the flavors of high society?

I’ve seen plenty men like that.

But…

let me warn you, each one of them is not so easy to deal with, all blinded by money, recognizing nothing but wealth.

Don’t expect them to handle your business with just a few sweet words like I would.”

At that, Arthur merely laughed, “Fiona, perhaps you’re right.

But for the Police Intelligence Department, what we fear most is matters of the heart.

If everyone has a clear price, then things become much simpler.”

With that, Arthur waved a cheque in front of Fiona’s eyes, “Just like you see here, my dear, £1000.

This money nearly cost me my life, and now I’m giving it to you as a down payment.”