Life is like a fable, its value is not in its length, but in its content.

—Luzius Anné Seneca

As night fell, the once bustling streets were instantly surrounded by a tense and oppressive atmosphere.

The gas lamps swayed in the cold wind, dappled with light and shadow, and the crowd that had lost sunlight seemed to be like a herd of out-of-control beasts, their faces and bodies could not be seen, only countless shadows surging through the narrow alleys.

The air was filled with a strong smell of soot and rust, mixed with the pungent smell of gunpowder and an indescribable fishy smell.

Stones, sticks, and broken glass bottles flew through the air like hidden objects, and the sounds of crashing, roaring, and screaming mingled together, sounding like Beethoven's Symphony No. 5 in C minor, "Destiny".

Traces of blood spread freely on the cobblestone pavement, weaving a shocking map along the cracks, depicting the brutal path of this chaotic conflict.

Some fell to the ground in agony, their clothing torn, revealing bruised, swollen skin from blunt blows, and deep stab wounds.

In the pool of blood, some people have stopped breathing, their faces are contorted in expressions of extreme pain, and their bodies that have lost their temperature represent that their lives have been ruthlessly deprived at that moment.

The carriage on the corner of the street was overturned, the horses neighed and fled in terror, and the bloody bodies under the wheels were creepy.

The windows of the shops were smashed to pieces, and the goods inside were scattered all over the ground, becoming the funeral objects of no importance in the riots.

A scavenger in a single coat and a ragged felt hat dragged his lame leg through the chaotic streets alone.

His face was sunken, his skin was an unnatural grayish-yellow hue, and his eyes, which had been sparkling, were now covered with a lifeless haze. His body was as thin as a handful of dry bones that had been dried in the air, and his clothes clung to his sunken body from sweat and painful struggles.

He faltered, each step seemingly exhausting the last ounce of strength in his life.

The cold wind of the night blew across his sweaty forehead, taking away the precious heat from his body.

His hands clutched his abdomen, the source of the excruciating pain, each spasm mercilessly devouring what little life force he had left.

Suddenly, he paused on the street corner, and a violent vomiting sensation welled up in his throat, spitting out a fluid as clear as water and mixed with bile. All of this finally made it clear that this was a terminally ill cholera patient who could not be treated.

At last, as if an invisible hand had pulled him to the ground, his legs could no longer support him, and he fell to his knees limply on the cobblestone pavement, with a dull crash in the dead silence of the street.

There was nothing around, neither doctors nor pedestrians, just an empty space surrounding him. He tried to look up at the sky, and his eyes flashed with a contradictory emotion, the desire for life and the fear of death coexisting.

But in the end, he was relieved, and the scavenger smiled as if relieved, drew a cross on his chest with the last strength of his life, and finished his last prayer. The heavy eyelids slowly closed, like the setting sun, which could no longer be reversed.

"Dear Heavenly Father, I feel your great love and mercy, and in all my life there have been weaknesses and failures, but you have never forsaken me. Now that I am about to rest in your presence, I ask you to feel your presence in the last moments of my life, so that I can cross the threshold of death with confidence and joy into the wonderful dwelling place you have prepared for those who believe in you. ”

Suddenly, a trace of warmth seemed to be felt in his cold hand, as if someone was holding his hand and responding to his expectations.

"I leave peace for you, and I give you my peace. Let not your hearts be troubled or afraid as I have given you, as the world has given you. I will not leave you nor forsake you. For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. Today you will be with me in paradise, Amen. ”

The scavenger tried to open his eyes, but he could not see them clearly, and he could only see a faint outline through the slit in his eyes, and he saw that God had a tall nose and no wings, but a pair of slightly reddened, shining eyes.

The scavenger's body gradually hardened, and the corners of his pale and purple mouth left only a smile that he had never seen in his life, which froze in front of Arthur's eyes. The scavenger's palm slipped from Arthur's hand, and his words of death resounded in the streets and alleys that radiated heartfelt joy.

"Lord, I praise you."

The officers who followed Arthur were silent when they saw the scene in front of them. Cholera patients, who were avoided in the past, seem to be less terrible at this time.

What they experience more is a kind of discomfort, a kind of reluctance, a kind of regret and annoyance that they can't do anything in the face of pessimistic reality.

Arthur looked at the scavenger who fell in front of him, turned to look at the police force behind him, and none of the more than thirty iron-clad men dared to look at him.

"Gentlemen."

Arthur's voice caught their attention, and everyone looked at him with red eyes.

"That's why we're here now."

Arthur turned on his horse, raised his horsewhip and said, "We must restore order as soon as possible at all costs." ”

"Yes, sir!"

Arthur pulled the reins, the horses raised their hooves, and neighed: "Before things get completely out of control, we will win the greatest victory with the least sacrifice!" To the Tower of London, onward! ”

Under the rising full moon, Agareth stood on the spire of the clock tower and stared at the back of Arthur as he led the police force away.

The Red Devil put on his glasses and flipped through the parchment scroll in his hand, which was filled with obscure demonic words. With a twitch of his fingertips, he saw the undriven quill flying on the parchment roll and hastily listing a few calculations, the solution of which made him frown and smile at the same time.

The Red Devil stroked the red-eyed raven standing on his shoulder and whispered, "This is a mortal situation, Arthur, I warned you a long time ago." If you want to escape, the price is not cheap. ”

……

The city of London tonight is destined to be full of legends.

A horse-drawn carriage from the north passed through the ruined streets, and the Oxford priest John Newman looked out the window at the shocking devastation and the corpses lying on the streets, his hands pressed on the Gospels trembling slightly.

He said in pieces, "O Lord Almighty! Can you tell me, what's really going on here? ”

The driver of the car was so frightened by this picture of hell on earth that his face turned blue, and he asked in a trembling voice, "New...... Mr. Newman, I suppose we might as well go back to-night. In the city of London, it seems that it is not peaceful. ”

When Newman heard this, he put his hand on the coachman's shoulder: "Jenkinson, I can't force you to overcome your fears, so I agree with you to leave." But I will not leave, as a messenger of God, God has always taught me that where there is tribulation, I will go. ”

"Mr. Newman?"

Newman got out of the carriage, dragged his priest's robe, and got out of the car alone and walked: "I will preach the gospel of my Lord to the lightless places." ”

……

"Fuck it! Louie, you can't do it! What the hell did you learn in the Swiss military academy? And that's why you're embarrassed to say that you're qualified to be the commander of the French artillery and lead them in forming positions?! ”

In the box of the Astrid Amphitheater, Alexandre Dumas punches down the Scotland Yard officer who pounced on him, turns his head and growls at Louis, who is in a stalemate with another officer.

Luis was provoked by Alexandre Dumas and kicked the officer in the abdomen, kicking him against the wall and unable to get back up.

Louie wiped the blood from his mouth, spat at the mouth, and said, "Damn! Alexander, you've got to give me some time so I can remember what I was taught in school in hand-to-hand combat. ”

Mademoiselle Rabe held her son in her arms, crouched in the corner of the wall, and looked in horror at the two artillerymen in front of her, representing the highest fighting capacity of France. She never imagined that Dumas's first reaction after coaxing her to untie the rope with sweet words was actually to go to those amiable police officers and gentlemen to fight.

Miss Rabe screamed, "Alexander! That's enough! What do you see? These officers are all good people, can't you have any questions with them? ”

"Discuss?"

Dumas's eyes widened and he replied, "Caterina, you stupid woman! Do you know who they are? They are the police! You've only been here for a few days, and you've forgotten about police behavior so quickly? It's not Paris, but when it comes to police conduct, London and Paris are the same! I used to think I could make friends with the police, but it turns out that I was wrong! It's impossible for good people to be cops, no matter how gentle they are, but when it comes to critical moments, they will always reveal their true nature, and we can never imagine that these damn strips will be on the side of the people! ”

Louis loosened his blue wrist that had been strangled by the rope, and asked with a belly full of anger: "Alexander, are you just going to show off your might to women there?" If you have enough seeds, do we have to do something now? ”

Alexandre Dumas spat at the ground: "Of course! I'll have to go to him and settle the score! Arthur, fuck, this bastard! ”

Dumas had just finished his fire when the door to the box was suddenly pushed open.

Louie, who was standing by the door, was about to stretch out his fist and punch the incoming man, but when he saw the object clearly, the fist suddenly stopped.

"Mr. Dickens? And, Mr. Tennyson? ”

Pickled by the scene in the box, Dickens and Tennyson asked, "Monsieur Bonaparte, Alexander, can you both tell us what is really going on here?" ”

Louis and Alexander glanced at each other, and Dumas rubbed his hair and said impatiently: "As you can see, a group of people broke into the box and wanted to kidnap me and Louis. But fortunately, the two of us were strong enough to drive the gang away. Do you know where Arthur is? We're going to talk to him about it. ”

Tennyson exclaimed, "Is it true that what is said in the newspapers?" Is there really France behind the recent turmoil? The July Dynasty in France has not only instigated the street riots tonight, but is also planning to send someone to tie you both back? ”

When Miss Rabe heard this, she immediately cried out: "Two gentlemen, don't listen to Alexander, he is sick again!" ”

"You're sick!" Alexandre Dumas took out a gun from the waist of the fainting officer: "I, Alexandre Dumas, am I a man who can be restrained by a woman?" ”

Louis defended Alexandre Dumas by saying, "I promise that Alexander is not sick, and even if he is sick, I will be able to control him." You two just said there was a riot in the streets? At this time, I, as his secretary, can't stay away from him. From the perspective of duty, he and I share life and death together. ”

Dickens glanced at the room, then at Dumas, who was loading his pistol, and suddenly asked, "Alexander, tell you the truth, what are you going to do?" ”

However, before Dumas could reply, Officer Tom's voice came from the hallway: "Everyone, all of them!" I have just received a telegram from the headquarters of the Metropolitan Police Department of Greater London from the local police station, and Superintendent Hastings has asked Sergeant Frank to lead the odd-numbered officers with the rank to stay at the Astley Theatre, and the plural numbers will come out collectively to reinforce me in the direction of the Tower of London! ”

"The Tower of London?" Louis heard the name of the place and opened the powder bottle with his teeth: "Go, Alexander, let's go there too!" ”

Dumas didn't hesitate to step out of the door, but before his head could reach out, he felt something tugging at the back of his clothes.

Alexandre Dumas turned his head to see that it was none other than his son, who had vowed to teach his father a lesson.

Dumas looked a little afraid of his father, he looked back at his frightened mother, swallowed and stiffened his neck and asked his own question: "Dad...... Dad, what are you going to do? ”

Dumas tore at his clothes and freed himself from his son's bondage. He patted Dumas's face and said, "Boy, I'm going to the revolution, learn more from my father, you kid is still far away!" ”

……

1 London, Apsley House.

The white-haired Duke of Wellington put on his uniform again, and in the rainstorm on the streets of London, the veteran who had stood shoulder to shoulder with Napoleon on the battlefield expertly climbed onto his mount.

In front of his mansion, several generals of the Waterloo period were already waiting here.

The Duke of Wellington took the reins, looked at the fires burning in the sky, and asked, "How is the situation now?" ”

Viscount Henry Harding bowed slightly.

"The rioters who were stirring up trouble near the Woolwich Arsenal in Greenwich were being suppressed by the 'Flying Riders' Royal Mounted Artillery Regiment and the Royal Artillery Regiment stationed near the Arsenal, which had four companies and the Royal Artillery Regiment had four battalions of 32 artillery batteries. Not to mention this rabble, even Napoleon's old guards came, and they couldn't withstand a salvo of so many guns. If it weren't for the social impact and the destruction of the city streets, these traitors would have been blown up to the sky by this time. Your Excellency, you see ......"

Hearing this, the Duke of Wellington raised his hand and interrupted: "Unless absolutely necessary, it is not allowed to open fire." Napoleon's experience, I am not going to use it in London for the time being. ”

"Understood, Your Excellency."

Speaking of which, the Duke of Wellington asked again, "What about the Metropolitan Police?" Are Mayfair in their charge? ”

General Murray, who was on the side, continued: "The Metropolitan Police responded quickly, and as soon as the riot broke out, they began to gather police forces and send reinforcements in all directions. Immediately after the siege of the Woolwich Arsenal, the head of the department, Rowan led the Mounted Police Force towards Greenwich, where they were currently driving away the rioters hiding in the streets of Central Street. In addition, due to the narrow roads in the eastern area, which is not conducive to the deployment of cavalry units, it is currently handed over to Scotland Yard.

As for the demonstrators in Mayfair, the Guards Cavalry Regiment stationed in Hyde Park was responsible for all the protesters in Mayfair, in accordance with the principle of proximity. They deployed one company each on Oxford Street and Baker Street, and two companies remained in the garrison for use as reserves. If you need to, we can lead them right now. ”

The Duke of Wellington looked up to the east, which was in the direction of the Tower of London, and he smelled something unusual in the smoke-filled air: "To be honest, I hate the feeling of being led by the nose. Since they dared to choose the decisive battle site here, they should have come prepared. ”

Henry Paget, Marquis of Anglesey, held the reins and nodded slightly, "Most of them want to drag us into the Tower of London just as you dragged Napoleon to Waterloo back then. From a prudent point of view, I suggest that we wait a little longer and gather a little more troops. The Tower of London is garrisoned by the Tower of London Guards and the 2nd Guards Infantry Regiment 'Cold Creek', and it should not fall for a while. Just wait another twenty minutes for reinforcements from the 3rd Guards Dragoon Regiment 'Old Canary' and the 7th Guards Cavalry Regiment 'Virgin Mary's Guard'. ”

Hearing this, Wellington took out the pocket watch on his chest and looked at it: "Paget, you know my temper, you have been a cavalry commander for so long, and you have also been trained in Waterloo, so I will only give you fifteen minutes." ”

……

On the banks of the River Thames, a silent and resilient fortress rises across the river.

Under the night sky, the Tower of London stands still, like a calm and deep observer, silently recording the most intense chapter of the country's journey into the future.

Built by William the Conqueror after the conquest of England in 1066, the castle has stood the test of time for more than 700 years, and its interior speaks volumes about its importance to the country, housing the treasury and the royal mint, the royal armory and the noble prison.

Once this place falls, no one knows how many variables it will bring to the already volatile situation.

The ancient stone walls looked more eerie and solemn in the moonlight, and flocks of ravens carved their inky feathers under their armpits as they watched the torch-bearing demonstrators beneath the walls.

Standing at the top of the Tower of London, the watchman can clearly see through the weathered stone windows that the pulse of the whole city is beating violently.

In the distance, the streets of London were flooded with people, torch-wielding and chanting slogans of reform and insurrection, anger and hope in the air.

The sparkling light of the fire illuminated their indignant faces, and the crowd was crowded, and occasionally a few worn flags could be glimpsed hunting in the wind.

In the streets, chaos and order tore at each other, and the rioting crowds collided with the guards who maintained order.

According to ancient customs and royal rituals, the Tower of London Guards, still dressed in medieval armor, holding shields and spears, were almost drowned in the sea of rioters, and stones, beer bottles, sticks, butcher knives, all sharp and non-sharp weapons were summoned to them.

The guards could not withstand the onslaught of the crowd, so they had to form a shield wall and retreat step by step, but soon, only a few gunshots were heard, accompanied by a burst of fire, and someone in the shield wall of the guards was quickly shot and fell to the ground.

The shield wall broke open, and the originally solid formation was instantly swept away by the swarming rioters.

Even when the commander shouted: "Stay in formation, stay disciplined!" ”

But the collapse of morale had brought about an irreversible reversal, and in a battle with no meaning of victory, the Guards could not have shown the courage to deal with the French.

Seeing this, the members of the guard stationed on the walls of the Tower of London glanced at the English longbow in their hand, and then at the flintlock musket beside them, and finally threw their eyes on the commander.

Everyone understood the meaning of the look, and they were waiting for the commander to make a final decision.

The captain of the guard looked at the flood of demonstrators and the idlers who wanted to take advantage of the chaos to squeeze into the gate, gritted his teeth and said, "Draw the bow!" ”

When the members of the guard heard this, they were disappointed and relieved.

They drew their bows and arrows and aimed at the rioters in the audience.

"Put!"

At the sound of the order, the flying arrows poured down like a torrential rain tonight, followed by a scream of arrows, and the blood flowed wantonly and the black rain merged into one, merging into one under the night.

Sticks, butcher's knives, torches, armor, longbows, all of this seems to drag people back to memories hundreds of years ago, as if today it was not the 19th century, but the 11th century, and this is not London, but Hastings in 1066, the battle for the throne of England between William the Conqueror and Harold II.

Seeing that the momentum of the rioters was suppressed, but in an instant, the rioters roared in unison, and dozens of black projectiles flew towards the head of the Tower of London, instantly taking the lives of many guard soldiers.

Blood flowers bloomed on their faces, screams of pain resounded through the night, and many people covered their faces and fell to the ground in pain.

Seeing this, the rioters immediately erupted in cheers.

And the leading musketeer also reloaded, while boosting morale: "Don't be afraid! Rush in, and as long as we get the gun, we will soon be able to achieve our quest and purpose in London! ”

But before he could finish his sentence, another gunshot rang out.

The musketeer felt only a tightening in his heart, and then a mouthful of blood spurted out of his mouth, and in the darkness he could see nothing but the sound of the hooves of the horses running and the sound of their boots marching in unison.

"I'm Arthur Hastings, and all the Metropolitan Police of Greater London are on my orders. The rioters carried a large number of firearms, and in self-defense, they allowed members of the police force to open fire without restrictions, and immediately suppressed the demonstrators here! ”

(End of chapter)