Chapter 282: The Qin and the Sword (K8)

Chapter 281 – The Sword and the Qin (5K8)

“When the Warsaw Uprising occurred last year, I was in Vienna preparing for a small concert performance. It wasn’t long before I received a letter on my father’s stationery from the old country, and he asked me to stay in Vienna and not return to Poland. But I could not restrain myself whenever I remembered that my native country was enveloped in smoke and that the people of Warsaw were suffering from artillery fire.

For two months I tossed and turned, I could not sleep, I could not write any music, and when my fingers touched the keys, I could not feel the same joyful emotions as in the past. Mr. Hastings, you are also a pianist, you should be able to understand the kind of feelings I had at that time, right?”

Arthur sat by the sofa, quietly listening to Chopin recount his story. When he was asked by the other party, he just nodded slightly and said, “Yes, I understand your feelings. Ever since I learned how to play the piano, practicing for a short while every day before I go to work would make my mind incredibly calm and bring me a good mood before I go to work. I really don’t know how I’m going to live if I don’t get to play the piano in the future. Frederick, I am fond of the black and white notes jumping on my fingertips, and I also like to appear at the concert every Sunday, when the lights go out and everything falls into nothingness, I can feel the meaning of my own living.”

Leaning against the wall and yawning, the Red Devil sniffed and said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. You’ve been learning the piano for a fucking year and you still only know how to play one song. And the most fucked up thing is that you’re a little fucker who gets through every time with your little mouth full of words. And you call it the fucking obsession and concentration of a great pianist.”

Arthur glanced at the Red Devil, but in an instant replaced it with a gentle smile and pushed the teacup with warm coffee in front of Chopin, “Frederick, have some of that hot stuff, I hope it makes you feel better.”

Chopin nodded gratefully as he picked up the teacup and took a drink, “Thank you, Mr. Hastings, I do feel much better now.”

Dumas was mesmerized by the story, he urged, “Frederick, go on, your story is even more legendary than I thought.”

Chopin smiled coyly as he spoke, “When I realized that my old favorite music could no longer bring me joy, that the blazing keys could no longer warm my heart, I finally realized my destiny. I should not have sat in the concert hall in Vienna when Poland needed me most, I should have returned to Warsaw, even if it was covered with dark clouds, I should have returned to my homeland, even if the Russians wanted to bury me there.

In the evening I was so upset and my chest was tight that I just wanted to go out for a walk to get away from it all. I walked through the streets of Vienna, lost in thought, and I don’t know how far I went. But when I stopped walking, I looked up and saw Mr. Beethoven’s home. It was a not-too-high, two-story apartment with white gelatin paint on the walls.

The neighborhood was quiet, not many pedestrians passing by, everything was still. In the evening Vienna was very quiet, in the silence, I closed my eyes, as if I could hear Mr. Beethoven playing the piano in my ears, that exciting tune, that rhythm, that is Beethoven’s indomitable soul, that is the “Symphony of Fate”, that is what I have lost for a long time and now I have gained the joy from music again. Since then, I have understood my destiny.

That evening I did not say goodbye to the friends I had made in Vienna, nor to Messrs. Cherny, Kreutzer, Hummel and Gilowitz, who had helped me so much. I knew that once I said goodbye to them, they would not stand by and watch me return to Warsaw to die in a hail of bullets. I packed my bag, picked up my parcel and set off towards the Austrian-Polish border.

But things turned out to be more than I expected. Arthur, I don’t want you to laugh at me for saying it, but I was really a man of little use; I knew nothing about life except how to play the piano. When I arrived at the border between the two countries, I realized that Austria had blocked the border and prohibited all goods and people from crossing it into Poland.

In order to bypass the Austrian blockade, I searched along the border for a long time, and only then found a gap that was not noticed by them, and stepped onto the Polish soil by following that opening. But when I entered Poland I found the journey back to Warsaw more difficult than I had imagined. The wagons from all the villages and towns were reluctant to move toward Warsaw, and the guys knew how dangerous it was now. Therefore, I had no choice but to walk.

But I didn’t walk for long before I got lost, I couldn’t tell where I was at all, and it was raining for days in the sky. The already bad road became even more muddy, and I had to ask villagers along the way for directions to Warsaw every distance I traveled, and I also needed to pick up some food supplies in the villages and towns. It wasn’t long before I had spent almost all the money I had with me.

But fortunately, I was not far from Warsaw at this point. Then, before I could rejoice, I saw a band of routed soldiers coming up ahead of me, shouting that Warsaw had been captured, and that the rule of the Czar had been restored to the land of Poland. This was undoubtedly a bolt from the blue to me, and I wanted to proceed to Warsaw, but I was prevented from doing so by the men, who, having learned of my attempt, forcibly evacuated me with them in spite of my objections.

My memory of what followed is somewhat blurred. I only remember that I lived in a trance during those days, and I followed them on many roads, passed through some villages and towns, and finally followed them onto a ship and arrived in London. After arriving here, I didn’t want to see anyone for weeks at a time. I felt as if I were a comical clown, full of enthusiasm but in the end accomplishing nothing.

I had a dream that I wanted to be the greatest pianist in the world. Later, I wanted to live and die with my country. But at the end of the day, I ended up living on a cot in a cheap apartment in London, with a cold, damp blanket over my head. I was useless, that’s what I was thinking.

But one day Mr. Mitzkevitch knocked on my door. He sat down on the edge of my bed and shared his experiences with me. That’s when I realized that he and I were the same; we both wanted to return to Warsaw to support our homeland, but were ultimately unable to do so. But Mr. Mickiewicz was perhaps a little more miserable than I was, because I was closer to Warsaw than he was when we were forcibly taken away to retreat.

Perhaps because of the same experience, he and I became instant friends. Mr. Mickiewicz told me that there were many Polish people who had retreated with us to London because they did not want to live under Russian rule. There were adults and children, men and women.

But many of them did not speak English, so no one would employ them even in the least paid and lowliest jobs. Now, many of them are living in extremely difficult circumstances, and it’s times like these when people like us, with our skills, should step forward to help them. Or at least, we should help them through this difficult time before they learn English.

Mr. Mickiewicz said that he was now earning money by writing articles for The Englishman, and that a pianist like me might be able to ask around London’s theaters to see if there were any performance opportunities. Mr. Mickiewicz’s words encouraged me, and for the first time, an unsociable person like me looked around desperately for a gig.

However, perhaps because of my lack of fluency in the language or my distrust of foreigners, they wouldn’t even give me a chance to try out the piano on stage. Just when I thought it was all over, Prince Chertoreski found out about me from Mr. Mitskevich. He invited me to his mansion, where I also met the British Foreign Secretary.

He kindly told me that he knew an outstanding pianist, a young man with a radiant talent. Above all, he also possessed a compassionate heart for the suffering Polish people. If I could have reached out to him, he would have lent me a helping hand.”

As he spoke, Chopin’s eyebrows lowered, and it was clear from the beads of sweat on his temples and his nervousness to the point of not being very coherent in his utterances that he should have prepared these words for a long time.

As a young man with an introverted nature and not a large social circle, it was definitely more difficult for him to prepare such a long self-monologue than for him to compose an epic piece of music on the fly.

But even though he was apprehensive, even though he felt a bit ashamed, he still said these words in front of Arthur.

Chopin, his fists clenched and his shoulders shaking, was silent for half a day.

After a long period of silence, he finally raised his head and gathered enough courage to speak, “Mr. Hastings, please forgive my bluntness and rudeness, but I really need money now.”

Arthur’s hand was resting on a white porcelain cup, and as he gazed at the calm, wave-free coffee in the cup, he suddenly laughed out loud.

Dumas and Disraeli also looked at each other, and they both gave a heartfelt smile as well.

Chopin was puzzled by the three people s smiles, and his appearance looked a little embarrassed, “What are you …… guys laughing at?”

Arthur put down his teacup and looked up at Chopin sitting across from him, “Frederick, are we friends?”

Chopin was overwhelmed when he heard this, “Mr. Hastings, I …… don’t know what you’re talking about ……”

Arthur didn’t say anything either, he just extended his hand at Chopin and gave him another slight nod.

Chopin first froze when he saw this, he hesitated for a moment, and finally slowly raised his arm and leaned his body forward to hold Arthur’s hand. Arthur smiled gently, “Frederick, we are friends now. Remember, don’t call me Mr. Hastings, just call me Arthur. Hastings or something, it’s just too outgoing.”

Dumas also nodded, “That’s right, Frederick, I’m your friend now too. To reacquaint myself, I am Alexandre Dumas, an upstanding French republican, and at the same time a novelist. Your story touched me and I’m eager to do something for your countrymen. Incidentally, I would like to introduce you to Mr. Prime Minister of Britain next to me.”

Disraeli sniffed and glared at Dumas as he spoke at Chopin, “Mr. Chopin, don’t listen to this fat man. I am Benjamin Disraeli, and it is none other than my property, or rather our property, that publishes Mr. Mitskevich’s work, The Briton.

Let me formally introduce you, this one sitting on my left hand side is Mr. Arthur Hastings, the head of the Criminal Investigation Department of the Greater London Police, the hero of the high seas battle against slave ships, one of the best-selling novelists and shareholders of ‘The Cockney’, the auditing editor of The Economist, a researcher of electromagnetic direction in the field of natural philosophy, and the pianist of the Second Symphony Orchestra of the London Philharmonic Society.

On my right is Mr. Alexandre Dumas, the leader of British fashion fiction, French Romantic playwright, creator of Christine, Henry III and His Court, and The Count of Monte Cristo, and editor-in-chief of The Cockney’s Popular Literature.

As for me, Benjamin Disraeli, although I am not Prime Minister yet, believe me, in the future I will be.”

All Chopin felt was that his brain was stuffed to the gills when he heard this flurry of titles as if they were heavenly, and he hadn’t yet responded to what was going on here.

Seeing him like this, Arthur just smiled and said, “Don’t worry, Frederick, since we’re friends now. I’ll take care of your recital, and as you said, it’s not only for you, but also for the Polish people. Since we have already published Mr. Mickiewicz’s manuscript, we will not refuse to give one more recital.

Besides, your curriculum vitae says it all, you’re an outstanding pianist, you’re not incapable of playing, you simply lack an opportunity. I’ll give you a chance, Frederick, I’ll give you the best possible platform to present yourself, and if you take advantage of it, you’ll soon be famous throughout the musical world of London.

Although London’s concert halls are nowhere near as famous as Vienna’s, it will bring you the money you need. Generally speaking, money in London carries a whiff of brass, but you’ll be able to give it a noble purpose, and take it to make your fellow citizens better off, and I simply can’t find a more rewarding use for it.”

Chopin froze stupidly at these words.

He had prayed to God that this trip would go well, but he still hadn’t expected this to go as well as it did. Arthur hadn’t even asked him to play a song on the spot as proof of his prowess. This was simply the best news he had heard in the last six months.

His lips slightly trembling, Chopin pursed his lips and spoke, “Arthur, I really don’t know how to thank you. It seems that His Royal Highness the Prince and His Excellency the Viscount didn’t lie to me, you are really a very righteous and empathetic person, I …… have to say thank you on behalf of my compatriots. Arthur, I …… I really thank you very much.”

Arthur smiled and waved his hand, “Frederick, there’s no need to be so formal. As I said, we are friends now. Since we are friends, helping you is just the right thing to do. Alexander knows, and so does Benjamin, that’s how I always treat my friends. Besides, perhaps in a few days I shall not have another opportunity to play the piano, and if I am no longer there, then the citizens of London will certainly need a more distinguished pianist as a substitute.”

“Can’t play the piano? What is the matter with you ……?” Chopin froze, “Is something going to happen in a few days?”

Arthur smiled and nodded, “That’s right, in a few days I have a life and death duel with Mr. François Bertrand, a French master swordsman. This duel is getting a lot of attention, and I heard that the tickets for the duel were sold out as early as a few days ago.

The audience that came to watch the duel included not only ordinary Londoners, but also many celebrities from London’s social circles, so I also intend to schedule your London debut on the same day, on the same stage where Mr. Bertrand and I will be dueling.

Promise me, Frederick, that if I have no chance by that time to give a curtain call to my beloved audience, that you will continue to live on the stage in my place. I know it; you have more than playing ability to match the London concert halls, you have a precious and sincere heart, and you will do better than I can.”

“This ……” Chopin only felt a violent shudder in his heart when he heard this, and how he had never thought that Arthur would utter such a passage as resembled a last word: “Mr. Hastings, if my performance must be your curtain call as the price, I feel that such a performance is completely unnecessary. I implore you to reconsider what you have just suggested.”

Arthur shook his head and said, “Frederick, the duel was decided a long time ago, so you shouldn’t have too much psychological pressure. Whether I am alive or dead a few days later, it is not your problem. Contrary to that, I am very glad that you showed up at this moment. You have made this duel of mine extraordinarily meaningful, you have made this duel rise directly to another level, this is no longer a public performance similar to monkeying around. If I die, then this will be nothing more than a necessary sacrifice to free the Polish people.”

Hearing this, the Red Devil on the side couldn’t help but grin widely, “Arthur, you little bastard is really getting worse and worse. After lying to the old and lying to the young, after lying to the women, you then go on to lie to the men. Once you say this, no matter what the outcome of this performance is, this young guy named Chopin will feel bad in his heart.”

“But, Arthur ……”

Chopin wanted to continue to persuade, but before he could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Dumas opening his mouth.

Dumas appreciatively gave Arthur a thumbs up, and then said aloud, “Man enough, Arthur, you really haven’t let me down! Dueling is the way it should be, why bother to play this manly game if you don’t have the determination of certain death? As for you, Frederick, rest assured. With me, Alexander Dumas, I won’t stand by and watch my big brother die on the dueling stage. Leave the dueling to Arthur, Benjamin and me. For the piano, I’ll leave it all to you.”

Disraeli was startled to hear this, “There’s still something in it for me? Alexander, I’m not a good shot with a gun!”

“If you’re not good at it, then go practice!” Alexandre Dumas gave him a blank look, “It’s bad enough that the Prime Minister of Britain can’t sail a ship, if you can’t shoot a gun, what kind of Prime Minister are you? Benjamin, you don’t want to admit that even Elder can outperform you in this aspect, do you?”

Disraeli had wanted to split hairs, but as soon as he heard that even Dumas had brought out Elder, the naturally strong Jewish boy was instantly unconvinced.

He glared and pulled his bow tie, “Alexander, who are you looking down on? I just don’t practice much, but as soon as a good man picks up a gun, it doesn’t take long for him to develop the ability to shoot through a hundred paces! Don’t forget that my rival is a master axe player, and although I have no will to compete with him in strength, I can split the difference with him in skill.”

Hearing this, Arthur ignored them both and instead looked at Chopin with a raised eyebrow and smiled, “So, Frederick, are you confident now? For the sake of the Polish people, the three of us are putting our lives on the line right now. If you really want to thank us, then don’t say anything else, please show the entire public of Britain something real on the stage, on the keys. Put your talent, your love for your Polish homeland, your love for the suffering of the people of Warsaw on the keys, Frederick, and blind them with your brilliant light!”

When Chopin heard this, he felt only a breath of air in his chest, but it was not congested; it was an indescribable sensation, as if a pair of hands had helped him to straighten his back, and given him a force of majestic greatness.

His heart is warm, coy and shy look can no longer be seen on his face, he only felt that the strength of his body simply can not be used up.

He grasped Arthur’s hand fiercely and nodded his head heavily, “Arthur, whether it is for your endeavors or for the people of Poland, I must reciprocate your trust! Please believe in me as I believe in you!”

(end of chapter)