Chapter 288: Sword Saint’s Pattern (K6)
Chapter 287 – Sword Saint’s Pattern (5K6)
The cold wind of the evening accompanied by light rain blew into the box, soaking the curtains hanging by the window.
A bead of sweat coalesced on Bertrand’s forehead as he glanced at the suitcase that held a single banknote, and as a sword master with excellent eyesight, it was as if he could see the sharp edges of each banknote clearly.
Arthur looked over at him with a smile and spoke, “So, Mr. Bertrand, what do you think?”
Bertrand grunted as he reached out and pressed his hand against the lid of the case, snapping the suitcase closed as he stood up and looked angrily at Arthur, “Mr. Hastings, are you trying to buy my honor with money? I, François-Joseph Bertrand, the glory of modern fencing, the representative of the French foil! To measure my worth in pounds would be the greatest insult I have ever suffered since my birth!”
Arthur just sighed helplessly when he heard this, he pressed one hand between his eyebrows and shook his head gently, “Louis.”
Louis Bonaparte just coldly pulled another warm check out of his pocket and pressed it against the suitcase when he heard his officer snapping.
He spoke, “As you can see, Mr. Bertrand, there are nine stacks of tickets in this suitcase, ten in each stack at one pound each, for a total of ninety pounds. And the one I have in my hand now is a bearer’s draft from the Rothschild Bank with a face value of one hundred and twenty pounds. If you add to that the appearance fee you received from the organizers, you will earn a total of two hundred and sixty pounds for this match. The exchange rate between the pound and the franc is now about one to twenty-five, so two hundred and sixty pounds represents six thousand five hundred francs.
As far as I know, this is enough money to buy a house with a garden on the Champs Elysees in Paris. Or if you want a steady return, you can deposit the six thousand five hundred francs in the Paris branch of Rothschild’s, where the rate of interest on annuities is about five per cent, and a return of three hundred and twenty-five francs per annum will not guarantee you a great meal all the time, but a visit to one of those ordinary restaurants once a day should be sufficient.”
When Arthur heard this, he just smiled and spoke, “Louis, I thought you had lived in Switzerland since you were a child, so perhaps you don’t know much about the prices in Paris.”
Louis Bonaparte just smiled humbly when he heard this and said, “It’s true that I don’t understand. But have you forgotten? Monsieur Dumas is a connoisseur of Parisian life, and almost everything I know about prices there I learned from The Count of Monte Cristo.”
Arthur nodded slightly and threw his eyes back on the sweating Bertrand, “Then, Mr. Bertrand, as you can see, the weight of friendship is as heavy as a garden room on the Champs Elysees. Sometimes one just has to make a trade-off between honor and friendship, and the lone strong man is always short of friends, as was the case with Master George Silver. I understand his desire to preserve the English tradition of fencing, but there are times when a little more tact and a little more appropriate approach might have been more conducive to the development of his beloved English short sword technique.
Yet it is precisely because Master George Silver did not know how to be flexible that now, with his Silverstream fencing having been swept into the dust with time, as you will see in London, England’s martial virtues have been inactive for a long time. In this respect, Master Michaël Hunt has done well; he understands that times are changing, and so a master swordsman should sometimes change his sword path.
To tell you the truth, Mr. Bertrand, although we will soon be opponents on the dueling stage. But I actually appreciate your fencing ideas very, very much. You have reduced the traditional eight fencing bearings to the commonly used four, and you have also pioneered the practice of shifting the center of gravity forward to a position in the middle of the legs, which allows the fencers to follow the defensive movements with their counter-attacks.
Such a move is very avant-garde and very much in keeping with Master Hunter’s unconventional and ever-changing style of fighting. In terms of swordplay, you are a true master, while I am just an entry-level apprentice. But, as you know, on the British stage, if we don’t fight well enough, if we both take ugly defensive positions in order to win, oh my God, I can’t imagine what will happen.
You don’t know this, but the London crowd are very grumpy, and if we let them down in the opening game, the rest of the show won’t go on as planned. The stage for the show would be overturned by them, the audience would be littered with flying bottles, and you’ll have to trust me, Mr. Bertrand, I’m a Scotland Yard policeman, and I’m simply too experienced in the kind of riots that can play out at such big shows.”
Beads of sweat snapped on Bertrand’s forehead and fell on the backs of his hands, and both of his eyes were fixed dead on Arthur like scavenging vultures, and his eyes were full of the young superintendent’s gentle smile.
He was tempted to shoot up, tempted to affirm that his honor was unbuyable, tempted to rage against the immorality of Arthur’s behavior.
But, but ……
They were giving too much away!
Bertrand took a deep breath as he spoke, “Mr. Hastings, you have always known that I, for one, value honor very highly and am not likely to discard it lightly.”
Arthur nodded his head and smiled, “That’s right, valuing honor, it’s a necessity for a strong swordsman.”
Bertrand stood up and emphasized excitedly, “But I equally value the friendship with my friends!”
Louis Bonaparte’s cold face also gained an extra smile, “That’s right, friendship is also very important.”
Bertrand’s face flushed as he loudly proclaimed, “If ever my honor conflicts with my friendship ……”
Arthur sniffed, slowly got up, and recited in English, “Fish, what I desire, bear’s paw also what I desire. You can’t have both, and the one who gives up the fish and takes the bear’s paw is also the one who gives up the fish and takes the bear’s paw. Life is what I desire, and righteousness is what I desire. If I cannot have both, I will give up my life for righteousness.”
When Bertrand heard this, his body shook violently, and he could not help clapping his hands and saying, “Mr. Hastings, you have really spoken to my heart! Honor is something I want, friendship is also something I want, the two can not be obtained, then give up honor to obtain friendship! These are such philosophical words; where did you learn them all?”
Arthur smiled and spoke, “These are the words of an eastern philosopher, I just borrowed them.”
“Eastern philosopher! Oh, my God! Mr. Hastings, how can we be so alike!”
Bertrand exclaimed, “So you like Eastern philosophers too? In case you didn’t know, I actually do, and it seems we do get to talk. Coming back, do you know Mr. Voltaire? That conscience of Europe, the king of thought in France, I am an admirer of his, and it was from Mr. Voltaire’s writings that I learned about Eastern philosophy.”
When Arthur heard this, he just laughed softly as he teased, “So what is your favorite work of Mr. Voltaire?”
“Oh, my God! That’s a lot.”
Bertrand racked his brain for memories, trying to bring himself closer to Arthur, he felt like his brain had never spun so fast in his life, the level of flight was almost as good as his swordplay.
Bertrand snapped, “Monsieur Voltaire’s writings are many, but my favorite is a little anecdote he popularized for the French public, an anecdote about Sir Isaac Newton.”
“Wow?” Arthur wondered, “Monsieur Voltaire is still related to Sir Isaac Newton?”
Bertrand laughed out loud, “To be precise, there is a relationship with Sir Isaac Newton’s niece. Mr. Voltaire says that’s where he heard this story. It said that one day, Newton was walking in the garden of his former residence at Cambridge University when he saw an apple fall from a tree and hit him on the head, so Newton had a flash of insight and the origin of gravity was born.”
Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but mutter in a low voice, “After getting half a day, did this story come out of Voltaire’s mouth?”
Bertrand did not hear Arthur’s words, he stretched his head and asked, “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” Arthur smiled back, “I’m saying that the apple that hit Newton is now sitting in some store on Jermyn Street. Some day when you’re free, I’ll take you up there for a spin.”
“That apple is actually still there?” Bertrand sniffed in shock.
Even Louis Bonaparte was a bit surprised as he opened his mouth and asked, “Sir, are you telling the truth?”
Arthur took a sip of tea and gently paused for a moment, “More than true, that apple also has a worm. Although I can’t guarantee that the worm has seen Mr. Voltaire, it has more than likely seen Newton’s niece.”
Bertrand sniffed in awe, “If that’s the case, it looks like I’ll have to make a pilgrimage there. Compared to this friendship with Monsieur Voltaire, my little honor is too insignificant.” Arthur gently waved his hand and said, “No, Mr. Bertrand, you must not misunderstand. I do not mean to deprive you of your honor altogether; I have said from the beginning that I am only here to make friends with you.”
“Hm?” Bertrand frowned slightly, “What do you mean?”
Arthur snapped his fingers in greeting, “Louis.”
Louis Bonaparte reopened his suitcase and pulled two neat, clean document packets out from under the bills and placed them on the table.
He spoke up and introduced them, “As you can see, there are two folders here. The one on the left contains the script for your win, while the one on the right contains the script for Mr. Hastings’ win. As Mr. Hastings said, our aim is to play the game well and not let the audience lose, rather than sticking to a simple win or lose.
Moreover, Mr. Hastings has to play his second solo piano piece, which he has carefully prepared for many days, after this duel, so he absolutely cannot hurt his arm in the duel, or, rather, cannot really hurt his arm. You may choose to have a real duel with Mr. Hastings at this very spot today, and the final outcome of today’s duel will determine exactly which scene the audience sees on the day of the performance.”
When Bertrand heard this, the last bit of lump that had pooled in his heart disappeared without a trace, and he turned his head to look at Arthur, who nodded slightly at him, and a trace of unspeakable respect even grew in his heart.
“Mr. Hastings, I …… am sorry, rather I thought you mean before. I should have thought of it earlier, how could an honorable Scotland Yard police officer, a highly respected nemesis of evil, do the initiative of buying others with money? You …… are not buying me off at all, you are genuinely thinking of your audience. I have no problem with your approach, so allow me to apologize, and I, François Joseph Bertrand, will accept your offer here and now!”
Arthur smiled and nodded, “Mr. Bertrand, it’s no big deal. As I said from the beginning, I respect you greatly. It is blasphemy enough to have you put on a stage play at the dueling platform, how dare I even change the outcome of the duel? May God see us through this battle of honor. Louis, lend Mr. Bertrand your constable’s knife, and while the food is still on the table, let us preform here to-day.”
Louis Bonaparte did not say much at the word; he took off the officer’s knife directly from his belt and handed it over.
Bertrand took the sword and unsheathed it with a choking lang, his stubble reflected on the snow-white shiny sword, and he couldn’t help but exclaim, “What a good sword! The edge of this blade is much stronger than the sword strips we use at the fencing club. Can the common constable of Scotland Yard also use such a fine weapon?”
“That’s not true.” Arthur smiled as he gripped the officer’s knife and rose to his feet, “This knife was custom made by someone Louis had asked to make it, and is not part of Scotland Yard’s standard issue equipment.”
“Special order?”
Bertrand’s eyes shifted upward slightly, and eventually his gaze became fixed dead on the hilt, where two decorative coats of arms were engraved, one an imperial eagle emblem symbolizing the First Empire of France, and the other a gold bee coat of arms representing the House of Bonaparte, and underneath the two coats of arms was written the officer’s knife owner’s honorable name – Charles Louis Napoleon Bonaparte.
Bertrand’s body jolted, his palms soaked with sweat, and even his legs couldn’t help but feel a little weak at the knees.
He looked up at Louis Bonaparte, who had a seal beard, and his voice trembled as he spoke, “Dare I ask if Napoleon Bonaparte is ……”
Louis just gently nodded his head, his eyes could not see half a bit of emotion flowing, “Yes, you guessed right, Napoleon Bonaparte is my uncle.”
Bertrand’s hand holding the officer’s knife was shaking a little, and he didn’t know whether it was due to surprise or fear.
He gulped and then asked, “And your father is?”
Louis Bonaparte exhaled, and I don’t know if it was from happiness or loss, but his tone was quite flat.
“Napoleon’s fourth brother, Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, used to be the king of the Netherlands, but then he was forced to abdicate. By the way, he was also the chief of police in Paris after the Misty Moon coup, when the French Empire was just being formed. So, as you can see, I didn’t become king, but now I’m working as a policeman at Scotland Yard, and maybe I’ll become a chief of police later on, so in a sense, I’m following in my father’s footsteps.”
Arthur smiled at this and just smiled and comforted, “Louis, don’t be discouraged. As your superior, I guarantee that you will definitely become a sheriff in the future. As for the king, I don’t have that much authority, but I think that maybe you will be able to become bigger than a king in the future.”
Louis Bonaparte just thought Arthur was making fun of him, he waved his hand and said, “Arthur, forget it, don’t make fun of me, I know how much I have. By virtue of my name, I’ve got a lot. By myself, I have nothing. Aristocratic by birth, yet democratic by nature and political views.
I could have gotten everything by inheritance, but in reality was bent on election. I know that there are people who want to use me, who flatter me because of my name, and others because of those titles I have.
If I take a step beyond my daily trajectory, there are those who say I am ambitious. If I stay quiet in the corner, I’m told I’m indifferent. In a word, my name strikes a similar fear in liberals and absolute monarchists alike.
Even if I intended to go that far, my only political allies would have to be found among gamblers who thought I might be a useful bargaining chip among the many possibilities. In this, I have been shown by my cousin, far away in Vienna, who has fallen a prisoner of the Austrian Empire and Metternich.”
No sooner had Louis Bonaparte uttered these words than, before Arthur could reply, suddenly, Bertrand’s agitated voice was heard resounding in the room.
“No, it is not so, Excellency!”
Seeing Bertrand kneeling on one knee and holding up the officer’s sword with both hands to hand it over to Louis, he cried out excitedly, “Perhaps because you are abroad, you do not understand what the Bonaparte family name represents to France. Neither the Bourbons of the past, nor the Orléans of the present day, have been able to bring true glory to France. I don’t care what those people say, and I don’t listen to what those people say, in our hearts that honorable and supreme position belongs to that man from the beginning. Remember, Excellency, that no matter what gossip you may hear, the highest honor and only creed of the House of Bertrand is that the sword of the manhood of the House of Bertrand will always be wielded only for the man of the House of Bonaparte!”
Hearing this, Arthur couldn’t help but lean gently back in his chair as he covered his mouth with one hand and whispered, “Damn! So he can still not want money?”
And the Red Devil, who was watching the drama, could not help but slap his thighs and laughed loudly, “Arthur, this little bastard of yours also has a moment of blunder! You know that bringing the Bonaparte family’s brats might have an effect on the French, but you shouldn’t have expected the effect to be so good, right?”
Seeing this, Louis first froze in shock for a long while, and then with some excitement and emotion, he lamented, “Mr. Bertrand, please stand up first. I am grateful for your loyalty to France, but this honor does not belong to me, but as you say, it belongs to the man.”
Seeing this, Arthur also nodded slightly and said, “Mr. Bertrand, just like what Louis said, it is better for you to stand up first. Even if you want to swear allegiance like a medieval knight, you still have to finish this duel with me first, don’t you?”
Bertrand sniffed and slowly got up first trembling and holding onto the table, his hands were still shaking slightly, so it was evident that his excitement was not feigned. For such an unwavering Bonapartist, nothing could be more rewarding than meeting a core member of the Bonaparte family.
He first took a few heavy breaths, and then he barely managed to squeeze out a smile, ”I’m sorry, Mr. Hastings, it was me who lost my temper. But I feel that this duel today is no longer necessary. It is impossible for me to take a shot at you, it is impossible for me to stain the blood of a close comrade of the Bonaparte family on my sword, let alone the fact that you are still my friend, I ……”
Louis sniffed, hurriedly interrupted his words, and pursued in a loud voice: “But if you do not compare, then the matter of the script, and your honor, what to do ……”
Bertrand waved his hand, and he seemed to be somewhat relieved.
Only to see him draw his officer’s sword, bunching up and closing his steps to play a sword flower: “Your Excellency, for me, to be able to serve the Bonaparte family is already the greatest honor. Moreover, it would also coincide with Mr. Hastings’ friendship. Winning or losing is just a small matter, and if this is something I can’t even look away from, what face do I have to call myself the Sword Saint of Paris? I am merely flattered to be addressed as Napoleon of the Foil, and at this moment, when the real Napoleon is standing before my eyes, how can I have the cheek to contend with him?”
In the spirit of favoring Bertrand for what he had just said, Louis wanted to continue his exhortation, “But ……”
But at this time Bertrand had long since made up his mind, and, gripping the handle of the suitcase violently, he carried it in his hand, and declared aloud, with a face of righteousness, “Your Excellency, you will not be persuaded any further! My mind is made up! Mr. Hastings, the script, I choose the second. Whether for honor or friendship, be sure to ask that you must overcome me!”
(End of chapter)