Chapter 296: Collision of Times (K6)
Chapter 294 – Collision of Times (5K6)
Amidst a clamor of audience murmurs and laughter, suddenly, the lights inside the Astori Amphitheater abruptly went out.
The diners in the theater bar who had just been exchanging cups and savoring the specialties from all over the United Kingdom also stopped moving, and they looked up through the glass windows to the theater stage below, however, they could not see anything.
Under the silent night sky, the only thing left for the tens of thousands of spectators in the Astley Amphitheatre to appreciate was the bright stars twinkling in the sky.
Today’s weather is good, no dark clouds, no light rain, although there is a bit of cold wind, but you can still see the charming and attractive bright white moonlight.
And in the theater on the third floor of the Royal VIP room to enjoy the wine and food, is with the side of the Duke of Wellington eager to talk to William IV also can not help but stop talking.
He froze for a while, just remembered that his side is still standing that for Britain and Horatio Nelson is equally important war hero.
William IV couldn’t help but ask: “What’s going on? I haven’t been to a play in a while, is this some brand new form of performance?”
The Duke of Wellington just laughed brightly, he pulled his best friend Talleyrand beside him, holding his wine glass and clinking it with the king, “Your Majesty, you don’t need to think too much about the reason behind this, just enjoy the surprise. On the point of offering a surprise alone, this lad from Scotland Yard is far better than your best expectations.”
Talleyrand held his glass in one hand and one hand behind his back, “While I have never been one to disagree with others, I must disagree with His Excellency the Duke on this point. The lad doesn’t always bring good news, and when I spend time with him he always makes me feel bad.”
Hearing this, Lionel, who was carefully waiting for a few great men on the side, smiled at the right time and stepped forward to add another bit of brandy for Talleyrand, “Your Excellency, Arthur isn’t as bad as that, is he? At least, I remember we had quite a good time on the golf course last time.”
Talleyrand sniffed and shook his finger, “No, young man, although golf is fun, I’m talking about what happened on the way to the golf course.”
William IV sniffed curiously and asked, “Did that young man named Arthur offend you?”
“Your Majesty, your guess is very close, but there are still some slight deviations.”
“So what exactly happened?”
Talleyrand shook his glass and sighed, “That kid won me another ten pounds on the way. It’s like the seventh time, if you do the math. It’s the first time in my life I’ve stumbled upon such a poker player who can keep me consistently undefeated; the boy gives me too much frustration.”
William IV laughed out loud at his words, “I didn’t expect that, even you, Talleyrand Perigord, have your moments!”
The Duke of Wellington also joked on the side: “Come on, a mere ten pounds, I heard that you have just received a small gift from the Netherlands not long ago? That’s already enough to make up for your little loss at the poker table, right?”
Talleyrand heard this does not answer positively, but sipped a mouthful of champagne, and then stared at the crystal clear liquid in the glass and shook his head and commented: “Good wine! I can tell right away, this is Hennessy brandy, right? The vintage should be ten years old and the flavor is mellow enough.”
Lionel on the side smiled and responded, “It’s true that no wine can be hidden from your taste buds, that’s right, this brandy was indeed specially shipped by us from Hennessy Chateau in Cognac, France.”
Talleyrand laughed softly with the corners of his mouth, “Being able to taste Hennessy is not a skill, the flavors of vanilla, clove and cinnamon can be understood at a single taste, even a novice can feel the difference, let alone a connoisseur like me.”
Behind them on the sofa sitting, holding a wine glass of red devil heard, also can not stop nodding: “That’s right, Hennessy drink is just like that, some other day remember to change a little bit of Dijinzhuang let me taste.”
William IV did not care what wine he drank, although the king liked to drink wine, but for the brand and type is not particularly picky. After all, he was at least in the Royal Navy ship rolled over, even the best wine is not as good as the ship’s light beer to bring him a good feeling, because it contains the flavor of the youthful years of passion.
The king was obviously more concerned about the little gift the Dutchman had given Talleyrand than the drink.
William IV couldn’t help but ask, “Would you mind revealing what the Dutch have sent you? Why is it that I have never received a gift?”
Talleyrand just smiled politely, “Your Majesty, they are just small gifts that a person as honorable as you would never look down upon. A Dutchman presenting fifteen thousand pounds to your throne would stain Windsor Castle with the stench of copper, which would be a blasphemy and an insult to you.”
When William IV. heard this, he also understood what was probably going on.
After all, Talleyrand’s character was well known, in addition to being a renowned diplomatic activist in Europe, he was also a repeat offender of corruption and bribery. The Dutch took the initiative to present fifteen thousand pounds, in all likelihood, they were planning to ask Talleyrand to do something.
However, Talleyrand’s little hand of money again can not control, this is not the king of England should worry about, this kind of thing is still left to the king of France Louis-Philippe to worry about it.
Just as the people in the room had just gotten used to the dark theater and were planning to talk about something else, suddenly, they saw that countless torches were entering in order from the two passages backstage of the theater, on both sides of the circular stage of the Astori Theater.
Looking down from the upper floors, those torches seemed as if they were like ants on the march, leaping in a neat and rhythmic manner, and as they moved, the torches gradually arranged themselves into a regular circle with the stage as the center.
William IV could not help but murmur and ask, “What is that?”
On the sidelines, Lionel smiled and whispered in response, “As His Excellency the Duke has just said, Your Majesty, here comes the surprise.”
As soon as the words fell, amidst the bated breath of the theater audience, they only saw those torches waving down in sequence from the outer circle to the inner circle as if they had agreed upon it.
The darkness faded away like a tidal wave, and in its place was the bright sight of the earth reappearing.
In a piece of inhalation sound, the audience finally saw the scenery around the stage, it was a piece of torch columns standing on the outside of the stage, red and yellow flames in the cold wind in late fall rolled, seems to be to gather into a ball of fire to burn the whole theater together.
And under the illumination of these flames, the audience finally saw clearly what kind of people were carrying the torches into the arena, and that was exactly the Astley Theater’s gold standard – the riding masters of the Astley Circus.
Only today the dress of the jockeys is neither as flashy as in the past, nor as close and simple as when they are going to perform the fire ring stunt.
Since Mr. Astley, the founder of the Astley Theatre, was a retired sergeant major from the cavalry, the Astley Circus ropers were almost exclusively drawn from retired cavalrymen after that.
Today, the jockeys are dressed in the uniforms they wore during their military service, and even the horses underneath them are in the same colors of their old army.
The leader of the jockeys stood tall with his head held high on his old troop’s iconic white horse, his crimson coat, blue-gray vest, yellow and white lines on his belt, and the blood-red tassel fluttering in the wind on the top of his black-and-gold helmet, all of which indicated that he was a retired knight of the 1st Royal Dragoon Riders Regiment, and the eagle flag in his hand aptly emphasized the regiment’s glorious history and nickname –Bird Hunters, the capture of the French Empire eagle flag in the Battle of Waterloo is precisely the most glorious moment in the history of the regiment.
And right behind them are two bearded knights on gray horses with a standard Scottish broadsword at his waist, a magnificent red saddle, a towering bearskin hat, long gray breeches plus a red-striped jacket, a veteran from the 2nd Royal Dragoon Regiment ‘Scottish Gray Horsemen’.
Behind them, on the other hand, were several equestrians wearing white feather-decorated helmets with strange equipment, and while their blue leather coats with golden spangles, ermine shawls, and beautifully crafted pistols in their arming belts were equally noteworthy, the focus of everyone’s attention was on the holsters hanging from the sides of the saddles, where four long polearms of unknown utility were neatly inserted.
The gentlemen in the audience who knew what they were doing had already recognized them by their equipment.
They whispered, “They are the Royal Mounted Artillery, and those four long poles are rocket launching rods, which can fire 12-pound rocket warheads when lit once.”
And at the end of the whole procession, in charge of pressing the line, was a cavalryman whose body was overflowing with majesty and nobility.
His gold-rimmed helmet gleamed under the flames, his deep black tassel danced in the wind, and the gleaming St. Edward’s Crown insignia set in the center of his gold helmet lit up the surprised faces of the audience, along with a saddle embroidered with two yellow daffodils sewn on with gold silk threads, a crimson coat with gold and green threads, grey breeches with a green rim, and boots with hexagonal silver spurs and an iconic 1796 British-style horseman’s sword. iconic 1796 British heavy cavalry sword, he speaks for himself.
By the name of the unit alone, he deserved to be the highest-ranking horseman in the room, hailing from a cavalry regiment that combined all the noble modifiers of ‘close-guard’ and ‘royal’ – the Princess Charlotte of Wales’ Cavalry Regiment. -Princess Charlotte of Wales’ Dragoon Guards, the 5th Royal Dragoon Guards Regiment, the ‘Green Dragons’.
Seeing so many retired cavalrymen who had witnessed the Waterloo cannon fire, the Duke of Wellington in the box couldn’t help but feel a little hard to hold down his feelings, but with the King by his side, he still had to restrain his emotions.
Unexpectedly he did not speak, the king standing beside him but intimate will call him to the side: “Wellington.”
Duke Wellington bent his head slightly, “Your Majesty?” “Come.”
The King smiled broadly and invited him out onto the small balcony of the box.
Seeing this, Lionel hurriedly asked the waiters around him to light all the lights in the box.
The bright lights highlighted this one box completely, and the jockeys who were harnessing their horses at the edge of the stage and ordering their mounts to march at a small trot also noticed the king and the Duke of Wellington on the balcony.
They drew their sabers and saluted the balcony, and the eyes of the audience drifted to the balcony.
William IV smiled and inquired, “Wellington, how did you give the order for the general attack when you were at Waterloo?”
Hearing this, the Duke of Wellington merely laughed softly, and the old Duke cleared his throat, so that even his slightly hunched old waist seemed to straighten up considerably.
He swept a glance at the cavalrymen on the stage and violently swung his white glove forward, his extremely penetrating and loud voice like a hurricane filling the ears of everyone present.
“Rise! Close Guard! Immediately, impact again!!!”
The words were loud and clear, and almost at the same moment that Wellington gave the order, the cavalrymen raised their whips and fiercely lashed down, followed by the warhorses letting out a burst of neighs in unison, and then the cavalrymen were seen starting to gallop recklessly around the circular stage in the center.
Dust flew in the theater, and the cavalry’s passionate performance also instantly released the emotions of the audience, they cheered and shouted, gentlemen have thrown their hats to the sky, the always sweet and quiet ladies also covered their chests, as if at any time will be suffocated by this passionate environment.
In a haze of dust, the announcer saved his steps and leapt onto the stage, which he usually had to support with both hands to climb.
He was equally absorbed in the sea of revelry, and his face was so red that the voice of the announcer seemed to tremble.
“Ladies and gentlemen, sights to the east side of the stage!!!”
With the announcer’s command, the two torches on the passageway on the east side of the stage were instantly lit, perhaps due to the angle of the light, the silhouette reflected on the floor tiles was instantly pulled to an incomparably slender and elongated length, like an unnamable behind-the-scenes hand spreading to the center of the stage.
“Allow me to proudly introduce to you, the man who has brought disgrace to the glory of the British Sword Art and left the London Sword Art Association without a place to stand, the legendary Sword Saint from Paris, the Napoleon of France’s Foil – Mr. François Joseph Bur~~~tran!”
As soon as the announcer finished speaking, the sound of crisp and clear footsteps immediately resounded in the passageway, and in the darkness, a well-built man clad in a blue cloak gradually emerged, and he stepped out of the passageway with a calm and composed pace.
The man’s face was hidden in the shadow of the cloak, so that his face could not be seen, and the only thing that the audience could see clearly was the long and thin French sword that he carried at his waist.
Bertrand stepped onto the stage, his arms spread out like the crucified Jesus, and the attendants rushed forward to remove his cloak.
The shadow covering his face then dissipated, replaced by a black mask covering the upper half of his face, which was typical of the French style, but also Arthur’s inspired masterpiece, in Arthur’s opinion, the European sword saint is supposed to wear such a mask, as Zorro.
Bertrand one hand on the waist, the whole audience held their breath, suddenly he drew his foil like an electric light in the air cut a Z logo, before the audience exhaled, he had already completed the action of collecting the sword into the sheath.
Bertrand looked down at the audience with his arms wrapped around him, only to hear a soft grunt, and then a spit on the ground.
“Britannian Swordsmanship, nothing more than that!”
This statement, the French expatriates in the audience immediately burst into applause and shouts of applause, even William IV beside Talleyrand also smiled and stood up to follow the applause.
Talleyrand applauded while not forgetting to nod at the king and the Duke of Wellington and said, “I am amused.”
Before Talleyrand finished his words, he heard the announcer’s thick voice once again spread throughout the room, “As we all know, nearly half a century ago, there was also a swordsman from France who swept the entire London fencing circle. Although this incident has passed for a long time, we still can’t forget the name of that great swordsman, the Sword Saint of Europa from the land of Iris, Dion de Baumont!
Although we still can’t figure out whether this Europa Sword Saint of confusing gender was a bandolier or not until the time of his death! But the only thing we do know for sure is that back then Dion defeated St. George, the strongest swordsman in London, at the age of 59! My grandfather said he witnessed the fight when Dion struggled to lift his skirts with one hand and sent St. George reeling with a clean seven-stroke jab with the other.
As we all know, losing to a French man is absolutely unacceptable, but if Mr. Dion had been a woman, I’m sure the spectators in the audience would have felt better; after all, it’s not the first time we Britannia have lost to a French pussy!”
As the words came to this point, the audience under the stage laughed loudly.
“If it’s French men, even Napoleon can’t take us. But if it’s a woman, just sending out French village women will be enough to answer the battle.”
“In that case, there really is no reason to lose this match today?”
“The French didn’t even send a village woman to play, and the London Swordsmanship Association couldn’t handle it, in my opinion, this kind of flowery association should simply be disbanded!”
Seeing that the atmosphere was almost fired up, the announcer hurriedly pinched his words to draw the audience’s attention to the west side.
“The challenger of the west side! Walking in the dark corners of London, hands stained with sin, but always with justice in his heart, shunned by outlaws, the Barbary Pirate takes his orders from me, fingertips flickering with electricity, knowledgeable in the mysteries of magnetic energy, the bright police star blooming in Scotland Yard, a round dance in the name of judgment will be played in the Astley Theater tonight! Please, Arthur Black ~~~ Staines ！！！！！！！！”
As soon as the announcer finished speaking, Wheatstone, who had been ready for this, rushed to order his little man, “Electro-fuck!”
At Wheatstone’s command, the iron pillars lined up in sequence in front of the west passageway suddenly exploded, and as the audience watched, one after another blue-violet lightning bolts twisted and sublimated on the iron pillars in sequence, and finally exploded and blossomed at the top of the pillars.
The cold night wind blew, accompanied by Arthur’s footsteps, bringing out a wave from his black cloak.
Arthur’s steps were slow, yet seemed to move in rhythm.
Step by step, step by step he ascended the steps to the center of the stage, his white gloves rested on the hood of his cloak, and with a gentle push of two fingers, his face was presented to the audience.
He also wore a mask that covered his entire face, a ghastly white face like a lady smeared with arsenic-containing cream, yet such a ghastly white face was hung with a terrifyingly wry smile, two long, hooked beards, and dark, cold eyes.
Like Bertrand’s Zorro mask, Arthur’s mask also has a name, this name is familiar to all Britons, but this style of mask in the 19th century in Britain has never been seen.
It was named after Guy Fawkes, the dominant Guy of the Britannia Gunpowder Plot, but in later times, fans gave its wearer the chic and idiosyncratic name of the V-Vendetta.
Arthur’s immaculate white gloves pressed to his chest and he bowed slightly to the columnists who had come to support him today.
Slowly straightening his back, he rushed to Bertrand, who stood a short distance in front of him, and asked, “Mr. Bertrand, I’m hard of hearing, what did you say just now, can you repeat it again?”
When Bertrand heard this, he just pinched his waist with both hands, raised his head to the sky and laughed, and then he stared at Arthur and read, “Repeat it again? Will you just send a deaf man to fight me? Good! Then I will repeat it! Britannia’s swordplay is nothing more than that! Mr. Hastings, what on earth are you doing here today, if you can’t understand such simple words?”
When Arthur heard this, he just grabbed the collar of his cloak and lifted it violently, revealing a swordplay suit as deep as night hidden under the cloak.
He drew the 48-inch English short sword at his waist and took a slight half-step forward, striking a stance, his voice not particularly loud, but loud enough to resonate in the quiet atmosphere.
“My purpose in coming here? I simply want to prove that you are wrong.”
(End of chapter)