Shadow of great britain

"Work for me?"

Clara looked at this silly college student and just thought it was funny: "If I were one of those upper-class ladies, just based on your few nice words just now, I would be willing to accept you as a valet to drive the carriage or take care of the car for me. Skirt. But I'm not, I'm a woman who's in trouble. Usually, I let others pity me, not me."

Arthur did not respond to Clara immediately, but stared at the small blackboard behind the bartender and raised his hand: "Please bring me a Marengo chicken stew. I have always heard that this is a famous dish in Paris, but Never eaten it before.”

When Clara heard that Arthur actually had enough money to ask for a portion of chicken stew, she suddenly became furious. She picked up the beer glass and almost couldn't help but splash the drink on Arthur's face.

"Child, are you kidding me? Do you think girls in Paris have good tempers?"

Arthur took out the only silver livre coin from his trouser pocket and wiped it again and again with the washed white shirt sleeve. The corners of his eyes were twitching with pain: "If it's not troublesome, divide my stewed chicken into two parts." Give half to Miss Clara."

Clara saw that Arthur was so sensible, and the curse words that were rising from her throat sank into her stomach again. She threw the beer glass back on the table: "You are really a weirdo."

When Arthur heard this comment, he was like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He stood up excitedly and clarified: "Madam, I am not a weirdo. What you said makes me seem like a hermit living in isolation, or someone from another province." You know, when I was in college, I was actually very popular. I was a prominent figure in the school club. I wrote many articles for the school newspaper and won awards. Of course, I can't say that for everyone. They all like me, but none of those who dare to despise me have ever defeated me in a duel."

Young and energetic, with low self-esteem and arrogance, with nothing but strong self-esteem, Clara has seen many such people, but she does not hate such young people very much, on the contrary, she finds them somewhat cute.

There is no other reason, because she also came here at this time.

It's just that a girl's self-esteem is different from that of a boy, and what's even more different is that when she came to Paris, she didn't come to Paris to study, but just to make a living.

At that time, she didn't know anything about clubs, poetry or novels.

She could well understand the dilemma faced by the young man in front of her. Although he tried his best to deny that he was a country bumpkin from another province, unfortunately, his words had betrayed him. A true Parisian would not talk about such things.

"Are you from another province?"

"No, I'm not." Arthur tried his best to deny it, but his face turned as red as a rotten grape, and anyone who looked at him knew he was lying.

Clara seemed to be interested in teasing this young man, she said to herself.

"Okay, you're from Paris, but I'm actually a country girl. Do you know? When I was in the village, even the clothes I wore when I went to church were just homespun clothes and tweed robes. So. , when I saw Mana from the same village coming back from Paris wearing a satin skirt, a lace hat, a fancy ribbon, and shoes with silver rims, I was almost envious to the point of jealousy.

Myrna enthusiastically invited me to go to Paris with her. She pictured Paris as a good scene—cemeteries, lions, kings, royalty, wonderful shows and operas, in short, all the pastimes of Parisian style. This aroused my childish curiosity and filled my little head.

At that time, as a country girl with little knowledge, I did not know that these things were made in factories, but I naively thought that they were all grown in Paris. So, I was determined to go there and enjoy them. However, now that I think about it, this idea is really ridiculous.

On the way, she was elegantly reserved for a while, and then told us silly girls that some country girls had become prominent, and their relatives also benefited from it. That's all because they kept their chastity and dedicated their virginity to their employers, who then married them and allowed them to have carriages and live a good life in fine clothing and food. If they are lucky, some even become ladies.

She also gave us some examples and told us that it doesn't take much, as long as we have good luck. However, when we arrived in Paris, we discovered that everything was not that simple. The various signs that can be seen everywhere in Paris are all traps for a fifteen-year-old girl. You come here and want to find a job as a maid, but you have to pay someone else some money first.

However, whether you will actually get a job as a maid depends on luck, because most of the so-called employers just want to sell you a good price. Children, I don’t know if you understand what I mean? "

Of course Arthur understood what Mana meant. Such situations not only happened in Paris, but there were many cases in London as well.

During his three years at Scotland Yard, he had handled more than one such case.

However, while the investigation of such cases is not difficult, discovering them is.

Because the targets of those traffickers are usually carefully selected, and their favorites are orphans who have lost their parents.

The British government's attitude towards such cases is also in an intriguing and mixed zone. For such an industry that may have a history of hundreds of years, the government's attitude is not to eradicate it, but to cover it up.

This is just like the Vagrancy Act, which has been in force in Britain for more than 200 years, and the Oxford University Prostitution Act, which was just passed a few years ago.

The Vagrancy Act stipulates that anyone who is identified as a vagrant or a long-term beggar must be stripped naked, whipped in public until bleeding, and then taken back to his hometown or the place where he last lived for a year. If the hometown or the last place of residence cannot be ascertained, he will be sent to a reformatory or ordinary prison for life.

The Oxford University Prostitution Act stipulates that ordinary prostitutes and street prostitutes who wander on public sidewalks, streets or roads within the boundaries of Oxford University without sufficient reason to prove that they have a legitimate purpose will be regarded as illegal idlers, constitute a crime, and should be arrested in accordance with the relevant provisions of the Vagrancy Act, and the penalty is hard labor imprisonment for less than 1 month.

As long as there is no beggar or prostitute on the street, this practice of covering one's ears and stealing the bell has won London the praise of the wealthy capital of Europe and no poor people. It has won the merit of education for Oxford University, and there is not even a prostitute in Oxford Town.

Although most foreign tourists were kept in the dark, foreign writers like Heine who had lived in Britain for a long time knew what London and Britain were like. There were certainly poor people and prostitutes in London and near Oxford University, but most tourists didn't like to go there.

"Put aside your unrealistic dreams, or you will end up like me sooner or later."

Clara's words sounded a little sad, and a little like she was mocking the young man's stupidity.

"But you and I are different. I am indeed a country girl, and you, at least you have been to college. But you may have a misunderstanding about college, thinking that you will be successful if you go to college, because you see many people who have gone to college have succeeded. But in fact, it is not like that. Those people succeeded after going to college because most of those who can afford to go to college come from successful families. And you did not succeed, not because of bad luck, but because your financial resources are enough to just go to college."

"Did your old customer say this to you?"

Clara drank absent-mindedly: "Oh, you can ask this question, maybe I have to consider changing my opinion of you, you are actually quite smart. If you did not use the money to go to college, but did some business, or If you bought a position in the government, maybe your current situation would be much better. "

Arthur looked at the girl: "But from what you said, your old customer should have barely finished college, and then relied on his own intelligence to rise to prominence?"

"Do you think you can compare with him?"

Clara rolled her eyes at Arthur with disdain: "It's not too late to say this when you become the president of the council. He worked hard to get to where he is today."

"President of the council?" Arthur was stunned for a moment: "Your old customer is Adolf Thiers?"

Clara was a little annoyed when her secrets were exposed: "What's wrong? Do you think I don't have the charm that Mr. Thiers likes?"

"No, no, no." Arthur waved his hands again and again, and replied in fear: "Even I am fascinated by you, not to mention Thiers Where is Mr. Thiers? "

Clara almost choked on her beer. She laughed and rolled her eyes at Arthur: "I just thought you were arrogant before, but I didn't expect that you actually ranked yourself higher than Thiers in your heart?"

"Of course." Arthur opened his arms and spoke passionately: "Napoleon was just an artillery cadet. He went to Paris with ninety-eight gold coins given by his fiancée Desiree in his pocket. Later, he became the first consul of the Republic and the emperor of the empire. Mr. Thiers met you and now he has become the president of the council. They can both do it, why don't I have such luck? I don't believe it. "

"It's unbelievable." Clara sneered: "Just now you wanted to jump off the bridge, and now you think you can become the president of the council and the emperor. "

"No, ma'am, you misunderstood. " Arthur said seriously: "There is a difference between the emperor and the president of the council."

Clara asked curiously: "What is the difference between them?"

"The difference between them is..." Arthur looked around mysteriously, and then whispered in Clara's ear: "It's whether you have sponsored me with 98 gold coins. Without this gold coin, I can only be the president of the council, not the emperor."

Clara laughed so hard that she slapped Arthur's hat off: "You are such a bastard."

Arthur bent down embarrassedly to pick up the hat, and looked at Clara with trepidation: "You don't believe it?"

"I believe you might as well believe in God! You just said that studying history is not valuable now, and the valuable ones are charlatans. You really practice what you preach. Now you plan to change your career, stop being a cultured person, and become a rogue?"

"This is due to your lack of understanding of cultured people. "Arthur took the Marengo stewed chicken from the bartender and served it to Clara attentively: "People with intellectuals are generally quite rogue. You will feel that they are like untouchable icons in the church only when you are far away."

"Hmph...slippery-tongued boy."

As soon as Clara finished speaking, the door of the tavern was pushed open with a creaking sound.

Accompanied by heavy footsteps and the sound as heavy as saws felling wood, several big men who looked like bad guys walked in.

But what is puzzling is that the guy leading this group of big men is not as vicious as his men. His appearance is quite unique even among the pedestrians on the street.

Although it was only the first time for Arthur to meet him, the appearance of the other party allowed him to tell at a glance that this was the leader of the criminal gang mentioned by Vidocq - Gwawe.

Although the general view in society is that a person's interests and hobbies will gradually change as he grows older.

But philosophers generally believe that the hobbies of a person's youth only get worse in old age.

This has been perfectly verified by Gervai. He was already a drunkard when he was in his early teens, and now that he is at this successful age, his alcoholism has indeed become more serious. .

Perhaps the word "successful" is not very appropriate to describe the leader of a criminal gang, but compared to the huge population base of France, there are too few people who are truly successful, and their success almost occurs when they are born. It's already determined.

Therefore, those people are usually not the target of imitation by the French people. In a sense, people like Gervais, who do not know a few people but have made their way in Paris with their "intelligence", have become a kind of unknown person. Such a glorious grassroots hero.

But whether he was a hero or not, his drinking habit had left traces of time on his big face.

Gervai's nose was as developed as possible, almost like a capital A on a British legal document. His cheeks were full of veins like the veins of grape leaves, red with purple, and dotted with many small tumors and some fine hairs.

The whole face looks like a huge gallinaceous fungus wrapped in the withered leaves of autumn.

The two thick eyebrows are like two clusters of small trees covered with snowflakes. The small eyes underneath are very energetic, but what they reveal is a kind of greedy and cunning. There is only a ring of gray hair around the bald head, and the hair is a little curly, like a pleated skirt on the head.

The worst part is that, like all the great men of France, he is short in stature and has a protruding belly. He walks like an old oil lamp that consumes oil and lacks light. Will spill the lamp oil.

Moreover, his taste in clothing is hard to compliment. He wears a militiaman's three-cornered hat on his head, a green velvet vest and velvet trousers, an old brown cloak, a pair of colorful gauze socks, and a pair of silver buckled shoes. .

Although this style of clothing is quite popular, when it is put on Gwavi, it makes him look like a big wine barrel covered with a quilt.

As soon as Gwawe entered the tavern, someone greeted him enthusiastically.

They uttered insincere praises just so that the well-known bandit leader in the Saint-Germain district could throw two rewards or give them some jobs that would make everyone rich together.

When Arthur saw Gervai enter the tavern, he asked Clara a question knowingly: "Who is that?"

Unexpectedly, Clara's face suddenly darkened. She gently touched the corner of Arthur's clothes and told him: "Don't have anything to do with him. After this meal, you go home. This is not your place." The place where people should come.”

Arthur nodded in understanding. He did not rush to approach Gwawe. Instead, he followed Clara's advice and ate his Marengo chicken stew.

Although the purpose of Arthur's trip was to get close to Gwawe, judging from Clara's tone, it seemed that the girl did not want to provoke the bandit leader.

This girl left a good impression on Arthur, so he didn't want to cause trouble for her. Now that Gwavi has arrived at the tavern, he will have plenty of means to get closer to the guy later. Not to mention, Vidocq is also here. Even if he doesn't take action, the Paris detective should be able to handle it.

However, although Arthur did not take the initiative to cause trouble for Clara, Gwavi looked at Clara's position at a glance.

This bald old drunkard in his fifties walked to Clara's side, hugged Clara's fair neck from behind quite naturally, and rubbed the other person's face with his gray stubble: "Dear, Do you still like what I gave you last week? Nowadays, ladies in Paris are pursuing Guerlain perfume and Breguet watches. Now that you have both, do you feel happy in your heart? "

Clara rolled her eyes and muttered without looking back: "Come on, who knows which lady's room you got this from? Even if you give it to me, I don't dare to wear it on the street blatantly. Yeah. Besides, those policemen were specially focused on girls like me, and they would stop me for questioning at every turn. But I couldn’t blame them, if I saw a girl wearing a torn skirt without any gold or silver jewelry. The smell of high-end perfume and wearing a Breguet watch would make me suspicious.”

"Oh..." Gwavi chuckled and said: "My dear, I didn't think this through well. I should have thought of it earlier and gave you a new skirt customized by the Royal Plaza. But it's not too late to think of it now, I'll have it ordered right away and I'll make sure you can wear it when you go to church next week."

Clara turned around, wrapped her arms around Gervai's neck, and scolded: "Dear, why bother? Can't you pick up the one you ordered for Fran right away? Why don't you give that one to Fran? Let me order a new one."

As soon as Clara finished speaking, the girls who were flirting with others at the next table immediately sneered: "How can someone be so shameless? After prying off someone else's lover, you want to pry off someone else's skirt."

Clara heard this and her willow-like eyebrows stood up immediately: "I heard it as if a black cat was calling. Oh, no, I heard it wrong. It turned out to be a few shed hens!"

When the girls heard this, they immediately picked up the plates in front of them and threw them directly at Clara: "Fuck you, you son of a bitch!"

"Ah!"

Clara was splashed with oil and water. She screamed and picked up the Marengo stewed chicken in front of her and put it on the other person's head: "You piece of horse manure, do you think I'm easy to mess with!"

Their screams were like the horn of battle. For a moment, the girls in the tavern were clearly divided into two factions, tearing and wrestling with each other.

It was not until this time that Arthur realized that these girls were actually factions.

Gwawi was also frightened by the girls' battle at first, but in a flash, the experienced bandit leader turned his surprise into anger. He slapped the bar and yelled, "Stop it!"

But at this time, obviously no girl would listen to him. He only said half of his words and didn't continue.

It's not that Gwawi's lung capacity is insufficient, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a chicken bone stuck in his throat.

The generation of heroes in the Saint-Germain district lay on the ground with his throat covered, and was almost sent away directly.

Arthur, who was standing aside, saw that the situation was about to get out of control, and began to try to control the situation, but the British experience was obviously not applicable to Paris, France.

Arthur just stood up and wanted to separate Clara from the girl who was fighting, but in a flash he was hit on the head by a plate.

Fortunately, the plate was not made of iron, so Arthur was only slightly confused, but soon came to his senses and stood between the two girls.

The two girls obviously didn't care that the gentleman in front of them was taller and stronger than them, and they didn't care that he might take advantage of this opportunity to take advantage of them. After all, Dumas had already started doing this.

But the alert Victor took this opportunity to slip out of the restaurant, and soon, he heard a whistle from outside the restaurant.

Then there were several gunshots, accompanied by the screams of the girls, and the Paris police rushed into the restaurant.

"Everyone lie down honestly and don't move! Who was the leader here just now?"