Shadow of great britain

In Wheatstone's musical instrument store, Arthur looked at the two gramophones on the counter and took off his hat to salute Wheatstone.

"Thank you for your cooperation, good citizen."

Wheatstone just put one hand on the counter and covered his forehead with the other hand: "I hope you will never have the opportunity to pay tribute to me again."

Arthur was not angry about Wheatstone's rudeness, but replied quite calmly: "I think you should have thought nothing of this. I think we will meet again soon, not at the Royal Society. , just in the musical instrument store.”

"Okay, okay." Wheatstone waved his hand: "So, Mr. Hastings, now that you have the gramophone, what about the missing gun?"

"Throw the gun?" Arthur raised his head slightly, as if he was trying to remember.

Wheatstone looked suspicious: "Is it possible that you want to regret it?"

Arthur just said calmly: "I don't know where you got the news about Scotland Yard's lost firearms. But with all due respect, Scotland Yard has very strict internal management regulations, and every one of our police officers has strict management of portable firearms." They are all very strict. Therefore, there is absolutely no chance that we will lose a gun."

Hearing this, Wheatstone's mouth opened wide and he didn't close it for a long time: "You... how on earth did you do this?"

"What are you referring to?"

Wheatstone gestured as he spoke: "It's that...the ability to tell lies with open eyes."

Arthur spoke as if he had amnesia: "Mr. Wheatstone, your words are inconsistent with the beginning and the end of your words. I guess you are sick and need me to take you to Bethlem on the way back." Royal Hospital? You may not know that I am a very enthusiastic person."

When Wheatstone heard this, sweat began to fall from his head.

Everyone in London knows what Bethlem Royal Hospital does. It treats nothing else but mental illness.

He waved his hands hurriedly and said: "No, no, no. I just didn't sleep well last night and I am a little nervous. Other than that, there are no big problems. Therefore, I don't need to worry about my health. Mr. Hastings , if you go slowly, I won’t see you off.”

Arthur nodded: "Well, Mr. Wheatstone, please take care of yourself. I think we will need you again in the future."

After saying this, Arthur turned around and was about to go out, but saw a young man holding an umbrella standing outside the door.

The young man's appearance looked a little familiar.

But before Arthur could remember who he was, the other party had already pushed open the door of the musical instrument store and rushed in.

"It's you! I finally caught you! I knew you would definitely come back! Sigma, you don't want to escape from my grasp today!"

"Sigma?" Arthur stared at the other person's face for a long time, and then remembered who he was.

This was William Thackeray, the Cambridge student who had been irritated by Elder in the musical instrument store.

And the so-called Sigma should be Xu Zhimo?

However, it is not entirely his fault that the other party can pronounce these three syllables of Xu Zhimo like this. After all, this pronunciation is still a bit difficult for an authentic British gentleman.

If it were normal times when he was not busy, Arthur might stop and chat with the other party, but now he obviously has no such leisure.

Arthur said: "Sir, you may have mistaken the person. I am neither σ (Sigma) nor α (Alpha). I have nothing to do with those Greek letters. At the same time, I have no idea about using σ to calculate the average. Or I have no interest in using α to calculate angles. So now, please give me a break, I have some urgent matters to deal with."

But Thackeray obviously did not listen to the advice. The arrogant young man stared at Arthur, with a hint of unwillingness on his arrogant face.

"You...you think I really want to find you? Damn it! How should I tell you this! Damn it, maybe I shouldn't have believed the lies about you and that rude friend in the first place. After I returned to school, I searched all the literary clubs, but there was no one named Sigma among them, and I couldn’t even find such a strange name on the roster of previous students.”

Arthur comforted: "It's okay. It's normal to not be able to find it. It's not your fault. If you find it, then I will start to doubt the authenticity of the world."

After hearing this, Thackeray just clenched his fists. He held it in for a long time, then turned red and asked: "So, you were lying to me from the beginning? That poem is yours after all. work?"

"No, no, no." Arthur has always been honest in this regard: "I just borrowed it, or you can accuse me of plagiarism, or plagiarism. Anyway, it doesn't matter how you identify it, as long as you are happy. Mr. Thackeray, I know you I hate my friend, so I also hate it. It’s not a big deal, I can understand it, it’s just human nature. But since I have admitted to you that I plagiarized, you should now Are you satisfied? If so, please give in, I'm really in a hurry."

Who knew that after Thackeray heard this, not only did he not calm down, but he felt that Arthur was despising him.

This young man with strong self-esteem pursed his lips and trembled: "You are contemptuous of me! Do you think I will take away the honor that should be yours? Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Sigma, I'm afraid you are wrong. Although I hope to become famous , but never achieve oneself in such a way that tarnishes one’s own honor!”

Arthur was confused by his meaningless words.

Even Wheatstone, a socially phobic patient standing behind the counter, couldn't help but complain: "Mr. Hastings, it seems there is a patient here who should be sent to Bethlem Royal Hospital more than me."

Arthur was puzzled: "Mr. Thackeray, what on earth are you talking about?"

"say what?"

Only then did Thackeray realize his gaffe. He took a deep breath and tried his best to calm down his emotions: "Mr. Sigma, I have to apologize to you first. Because I want to compete with you, so I did it without your permission." With permission, I will submit your song "Farewell to Cambridge" to this year's poetry competition of Cambridge University.

But at the same time, I also want to congratulate you because your work won first place in the school competition and successfully won the principal's gold medal. Although I don’t know why that poem is better than my work, but if you win, you win. Your attainments in poetry are indeed better than mine.

Perhaps your friend is right, I am indeed not suitable for a career in literature. I can neither catch up with Alfred nor you. "

When Arthur heard this, he felt his scalp numb. He scratched his head and asked: "Wait, you said "Farewell Cambridge" won the gold medal? Although I think that poem is very good, but if it is different from Denny There is still a certain gap between the two songs, especially when compared with the song "Timbuktu"."

Thackeray felt more and more aggrieved the more he listened: "I'm glad that you recognize Alfred's talent, but his song "Timbuktu" was last year's gold medal work. As for this year, Alfred did not participate, so You truly deserve that gold medal.

To be honest, the reason why I am so anxious to come to you is to invite you to attend the awards ceremony held in Cambridge next month. After all, I can't go on stage and claim your honor. "

"Go to Cambridge to receive the award?" Arthur raised his forehead and said, "Then you might as well kill me directly. If my classmates know the news, I'm afraid I won't have to hang out in the alumni circle in the future."

When Thackeray heard this, he asked in surprise: "Are you a graduate of Oxford?"

Arthur frowned when he heard this and said: "Mr. Thackeray, although I respect you very much, I still have to strongly ask you to withdraw your attack on my life!"

"Ah...it turns out you have nothing to do with Oxford." Thackeray was relieved when he heard this. He covered his chest and said: "That's easy...Fortunately, you didn't graduate from Oxford. If the school knew that I let a Someone from Oxford won the first place in the poetry competition, so even if I am not expelled, I will still be bullied by my classmates for a while."

"That's right, I have nothing to do with Oxford." Arthur said decisively: "That friend of mine is the authentic old Oxford."

Thackeray was stunned for a moment. He recalled what happened that day, and suddenly felt a sense of relief. He murmured: "It's no wonder, let me just say... He does have a strong, stubborn spirit about him. The atmosphere of Oxford.”

He was thinking about Arthur's words. When he came back to his senses, he suddenly found that Arthur, who was standing in front of him just now, had disappeared without a trace.

He hurriedly searched privately, but there was no trace of Arthur anywhere in the store.

"this……"

Thackeray hurriedly asked the shopkeeper Whistle Pass: "Sir, where is the gentleman who was standing here just now?"

Wheatstone curled his lips and replied: "He left by the back door."

"ah?!"

Thackeray was eager to chase him, but before he could go out, he saw a black public carriage passing by outside the window, and Arthur was sitting in the car and took off his hat to greet him through the window: " Farewell, Mr. Thackeray. Remember to say hello to your friend Alfred Tennyson for me."

The carriage sped past, its wheels bringing up circles of mud and water, and disappeared at the end of Central Street under Thackeray's gaze.

Seeing this situation, Thackeray knew that he would definitely not be able to catch up.

He stood in the store and turned around anxiously. Suddenly, as if he remembered something, he rushed in front of Whetstone with a quick step.

"Excuse me, do you know the name of the gentleman just now? He must be here to order musical instruments from you, right? Do you have his home address, or his work address?"

Wheatstone thought about what Arthur had just done to him, then looked at the young man in front of him who seemed to be more innocent than himself, and replied with malice: "Mr., don't listen to that gentleman just now. Nonsense, his name is Sigma. Mr. Arthur Sigma, his home address is Bethlem Royal Hospital, Liverpool Street, Financial City."

Although Thackeray could not call it Old London, he still had some familiarity with the place's name.

He asked doubtfully: "Betram Royal Hospital? Isn't that a place for mental patients?"

Wheatstone stared seriously into Thackeray's eyes and patted his shoulder gently with one hand: "Sir, I just heard you mention during the conversation that you are a Cambridge student who likes literature. Then you should know that, as a poet, it is normal to have some mental illness. Mr. Sigma can write gold medal-winning poems, but if he is not mentally ill, I think it is basically impossible."