Sunlight shines through the mist and gradually fills the single-family cottage area near Hyde Park.

One of the red-brick and white-edged Georgian villas is spacious and elegant, with a well-manicured garden in its forecourt. Neighbours who live nearby know that this oasis of tranquility belongs to Sir Arthur Hastings, who, although he has been here for a long time, has only recently become acquainted with them.

He was a young gentleman with a gentle smile on his face, and although his neighbours occasionally complained that he did not often attend the clubs and salons run by the neighbourhood, almost everyone admitted that Sir Arthur Hastings was indeed the first philanthropist in London's Bayswater.

The gentleman not only spoke with great grace and moderation, but also took part in the various official and unofficial charitable donations of the local diocese, and the parish chaplain did not shy away from saying bluntly in his sermon that the largest social donation of the year to the Bayswater Workhouse came from Sir Arthur Hastings, who received a total of about three hundred pounds worth of food, clothing and other relief materials.

Such a young and wealthy upper-class gentleman is naturally easy to become a topic of conversation after dinner. But unfortunately, the residents know very little about the life experience of this gentleman. The young gentleman was secretive about his professional experience, and only vaguely told everyone that he worked in the publishing industry.

According to several gentlemen who worked in the City, they could see Sir Arthur Hastings in the City every once in a while, and the model of high society seemed to be a guest of the Rothschilds. On one occasion, they also saw Alexander Barin, the head of the Bank of Baring, greet Sir on his own initiative.

How did such a young man get on the line with so many big names?

Where did his seemingly inexhaustible wealth come from?

Some people say that this knight should have been born into some down-and-out noble family, and he was not valued in the family, but he ended up inheriting the inheritance of a cheap uncle who had no heir, so he was so rich.

Such speculation is indeed quite reasonable. Because everyone knows how picky the aristocracy is about marriage, they would rather not get married and have children, than put down the shelf to find a marriage partner who is not in the right household.

Therefore, even the most prominent noble family can catch a large number of old bachelors and old girls who are still in their thirties and forties and are still unmarried, and when they really find the right person, most of them will be unable to have children.

What's worse is that this upper-class atmosphere seems to be quietly influencing the common class's view of marriage and love. At least in the middle class, there are already many such 'single aristocrats'.

Of course, not getting married does not mean how clean the nobles are, especially for the male aristocracy, they will most likely have many lovers and maybe a few illegitimate children. Unfortunately, these children born out of wedlock do not enjoy the protection of the law, i.e. they do not have the right to inherit their father's property.

Therefore, in those ancient families, it is often the case that after the death of the uncle, the young people of the nephew generation become rich overnight.

And Sir Arthur Hastings was clearly one such lucky man.

However, not everyone thinks so, and there are others who have a different view of the Hastings family's source of wealth.

Because they found out that the knight seemed to be single at the moment. As a gentleman who is quite attractive to the opposite sex, good conversation, extensive knowledge, and strong physique all add points to him, and the ladies of this era always eat this set.

Therefore, it has been suspected that Sir Arthur Hastings's wealth may have originated from the widow of a wealthy merchant, who married a wealthy widow and swallowed her massive dowry, which was also socially accepted as a way to get rich overnight.

According to all the anecdotes circulating in the streets of London, there seems to be a special group of people in society who specialize in the business of marrying rich widows, and they also pick on the elderly, send one away, and then look for the next target.

The young lord may have been in a state where he had just given away his wife and had not yet had time to find the next one.

Whenever the ladies talked about the speculations about the young man at the meeting, they could not help but let out one exclamation after another, and they pressed their chests to pray that God would not be targeted by him.

Occasionally, gentlemen would come up and quip, "Honey, you don't have to worry about that, because your husband is still alive." ”

And Arthur, who is deeply involved in the rumors of a widow, is not completely unaware of the outrageous speculation of his neighbors, but he really doesn't bother to defend it. For, according to his knowledge of the temperament of these gentlemen and ladies, justification only increased their suspicions, and the idea of getting rich by a widow was obviously more topical than hard work.

What's more, he found that after this rumor spread, the neighbors who liked to pull him to chat from morning to noon obviously deliberately kept a certain distance from him. Especially for the ladies who, according to social etiquette, he could not refuse, now he only had to take off his hat and say 'good morning, ma'am' to say goodbye to them in shock.

Arthur found that the ladies were happy to be recognized as a 'professional hunter', but on the other hand, they were really a little afraid of him. A word can satisfy the vanity of the ladies, give them a day of conversation, and by the way, without tiring themselves, is there a better title in the world than 'rich woman hunter'?

This looks like even more heavyweight than his knighthood.

After three successive 'good morning, ma'am' scares away several lovely ladies and their servants, Arthur can finally relax in his private garden and do what he likes.

Dressed in a dark blue pinstriped tuxedo with a pale waistcoat, a white hand-embroidered linen scarf around his neck, a straw top hat, and a delicate copper watering can, he leisurely watered the garden's precious exotic flowers.

Each leaf is bathed in the sparkling water droplets under his care, and the roses bloom with a delicate fragrance under his care. His movements are gentle and rhythmic, as if each spray is a hymn to the beauty of nature.

As far as the eye can see, every inch of the garden has been carefully designed, which not only follows the popular garden art layout of the time, but also incorporates the owner's personal artistic taste. Along the winding path, the heather fence is neat and orderly, and the various plants are clearly layered, creating a harmonious and vibrant picture.

Arthur looked at this beautiful landscape and felt very relieved for a moment, and he was glad that he had found something to do for himself while recuperating from his injuries after leaving Scotland Yard.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, ready to feel the fragrance of the garden, but in an instant, his brow furrowed. Arthur glanced at it, and instantly found the source of his discomfort.

He took off his gloves and uprooted the old and young remnants of Alexandre Dumas's time in those gardens: "Damn it! I thought I'd cleaned it up, but I didn't think there were a few garlic left. ”

He laid the garlic on the small round table in the garden, lay down on the chair, and Miss Becky Sharp, who was cleaning in the front hall, duly handed over a silver tray with a cup of freshly brewed Ceylon black tea and a copy of the Times.

Arthur smiled and took it, thanked him, and asked, "Becky, do you think there's a lot of work here?" I can hire a few more if needed. Ever since Alexander moved out, the house felt empty every day. ”

Becky pinched the tray, stood aside and shook her head gently, "Sir, the work here is quite easy. You don't have a lot of clothes, and although the house is not small, it doesn't get as much dust as a house on the street in the city or the country, and you don't need me to cook lunch and dinner, so I am relaxed every day except for the morning samovar and cleaning.

I have heard from other girls in our village that they not only have to do the work I mentioned, but also help with the children, three or four at the least, seven or eight at the most, laundry and cooking, shopping on the streets, all of which are indispensable, and they don't take as much as I do, so how can I be cheeky enough to complain to you about the heavy work? ”

Arthur unfolded The Times, took a sip of black tea and said, "Hmm...... What shall I say, Becky. Actually, I don't just think about the importance of my work, and you may not know that in a while I may have to leave London for Hanover, and it will take at least a year to go. Although the security in Bayswater has always been good, I am always at ease with leaving you alone at home.

Or, if you wish, I'll just give you a long vacation during my time in Hannover. I'll give you a year's salary advance in advance, and you can take the money home to rest or do something else. You leave me the address of your home, and when I return to China, I will inform you to come back to work. ”

Arthur thought that such conditions were quite good, but when Becky heard this, her face turned white with fright, and looking at the way her lips trembled, the girl seemed to be a little angry.

"Lord ...... Jazz, that ...... Is there something wrong with my job? ”

"Nope." Arthur didn't know that he had offended the other party, and he read the newspaper while drinking tea: "On the contrary, I think you have done a good job, although you are only eighteen years old, there should be no eighteen-year-old girl in the whole of London who is more capable than you." ”

Becky breathed a sigh of relief, she was now sure that it was probably the grandfather's strange temper again.

Becky explained, "Sir, if you really approve of my work, don't let me go home. I know you mean well, but if I go back to the village like this, the people will look down on me. They would chew on the root of my tongue and say that I must have been fired, that I was a lazy woman who was not diligent. There is nothing more humiliating for a maid. ”

Arthur joked when he heard this: "Becky, don't worry, the dismissal is not a big deal, I was fired from Scotland Yard, or was ordered directly by the Home Office." Didn't you notice? On the day I left Scotland Yard, the whole Fleet Street was filled with a jubilant atmosphere, and the pen of the reporters and newspaper editors was much more vicious than the tongues of the villagers. ”

Becky said helplessly: "Sir, you can't joke about everything. But I think it might be a good thing for you to leave Scotland Yard, it's so dangerous there, and I don't want to lose a good home like you. ”

Arthur laughed and said, "Becky, in fact, you have lost, but I don't know why, I somehow survived. ”

Agareth, who was on the side, picked up the garlic head on the table and threw it into his mouth and chewed: "Are you sure it's inexplicably alive?" Arthur, you little bastard is such an ungrateful, shameless, conscienceless fellow. But so be it, I like it, keep it up. ”

Becky's lips turned pale when she remembered the scene when Scotland Yard had informed her of Arthur's death in the line of duty: "You are always like this, or rather, men are always like this, like to go to dangerous places and watch the excitement." God willing, you survived, and you were in a coma for three whole days and then opened your eyes again, which is like a story from the Bible, like the resurrection of Jesus. ”

Arthur waved his hand lightly and said, "Becky, you must not say that, I am not resurrected. You must know that in the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the resurrection must be passed by parliamentary legislation, vetted by the state church, submitted to the Privy Council, and stamped and approved by His Majesty the King and the Excellencies. Without going through this process, even if it is resurrected, it is an illegal resurrection.

Although most of the rules in our country are judged according to the common law, and precedents are to be emphasized, the judges also agree that the principles of Roman law should be followed in such a matter as the resurrection, and that the case before 1,832 years ago cannot be used as a universal basis. ”

Becky blinked when she heard this, she understood seriously for a while, and finally shook her head in discouragement: "Sir, I don't understand." ”

Arthur shrugged his shoulders and said, "It seems that in addition to hiring a few more people to guard the house, I will have to find you a governess to train before leaving." Becky, you have to be serious, or you won't be able to do the job of the head maid. ”

Becky was stunned for a long time, and she had just come to her senses that something good had happened to him, when she heard a rattle outside the fence in the garden.

Two black carriages stopped in front of Arthur's house, and a few familiar faces came down from them.

Lionel Rothschild, who smiled and gently shook Arthur with the checkbook between his two fingers,

Alexandre Dumas, who has recently been harassed by illegitimate children and old lovers,

Louis Bonaparte, who had a noble bloodline but no use,

At present, he is no longer Arthur's subordinate, but he still shows a considerable progress in front of him, Superintendent Ledley King, the head of the Fifth Division of the Police Intelligence Department of the Royal Metropolitan Police Agency.

and Thomas Plunkitt, the head of the covert operations department of the Police Intelligence Department of the Royal Greater London Metropolitan Police and a sharpshooter, who was personally commended by His Majesty the King and commended by the Home Office for his outstanding performance on the night of the riots in London on June 5.

(End of chapter)