The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 971: 46: Relatives of the Britons_2

Chapter 971: Chapter 46: Relatives of the Britons_2

Arthur sat quietly on the chair, sizing up the people in front of him, while they were also sizing him up.

Most of the people in the room didn’t speak, occasionally casting inadvertent glances at Arthur’s handsome new attire.

The leading assassins were engaged in a lively conversation in French with a heavy accent. Although Arthur’s French had improved greatly under the guidance of Great Dumas, even to the point where he could fluently use various swear words, he still knew nothing about the regional dialects and slang of France.

Strangely enough, their accent sounded nothing like French, but rather like Welsh spoken by people from rural Wales.

They hovered around a limping table, discussing for a while, until the head assassin, as if having made a big decision, slammed the table and grabbed the business card that had been retrieved from Arthur’s pocket, walked up to him, and pointed at the text on it, asking seriously: “Are you a diplomat from Britain?”

Arthur didn’t respond directly, instead, he tilted his head and asked: “Kaidao Sai Mansion is the site of the French Foreign Office, is it strange for a diplomat to appear there?”

Upon hearing this, the other party immediately breathed a sigh of relief and gave Arthur a bear hug: “Luckily, you are a Briton, otherwise we would have had to dispose of you today.”

The others, upon hearing the pursuer was indeed British, had their stern and wooden faces break into shy smiles.

“Brother.”

“British brother.”

Arthur was baffled by them, and a series of sensitive Foreign Office documents flashed through his mind instantly. But no matter how he searched, he couldn’t find a single file authorizing a special department to assassinate King Louis Philippe of France.

For a moment, Arthur’s first reaction was to inquire if these assassins were hired by the Tory Party, because today’s banquet was not only attended by him as a second-class secretary but also by Earl of Dalmo, a key figure in the Whig Party’s Radical Party wing.

Everyone knew Earl of Dalmo drafted the “Parliamentary Reform” bill, and over the past two decades, he and Lord Brougham have been regarded as staunch champions of parliamentary reform. If the Tory Party wanted to take advantage of his travels in Europe to make a move, it would be understandable.

But…

Arthur pondered for a moment, knowing that Duke of Wellington and Sir Peel’s temperaments hardly seemed like those who would incite conflict. The Duke of Wellington greatly despised using underhanded methods outside the rules, and Sir Peel, regardless of right or wrong, was always known for his clear and open way of doing things.

Whether it was the “Catholic Emancipation Act” or the issue of parliamentary reform, they had both exercised maximum restraint. If they wanted to make a move, last year’s reform bill before it was passed would have been the best opportunity.

There wasn’t any direct action at that time, so why delay until now?

The assassin saw Arthur dazed, thinking he was scared.

The leading assassin called over a companion to untie the bundle on the stick, took out a gourd tied with a string from inside, and poured out some spicy moonshine, pushing it in front of Arthur: “This is our homemade apple moonshine, have a sip, warm yourself up.”

Arthur didn’t refuse the host’s enthusiastic hospitality. Although the drink certainly couldn’t compare to those at the Kaidao Sai Mansion banquet, homemade booze always reminded him of childhood memories living in the countryside of York.

Whenever he caught a cold from the rain and couldn’t sleep because of discomfort, he’d boldly go to his employer’s house to ask for a cup of watered-down homemade booze. After drinking, his head would spin giddily, and he’d wrap himself in straw and sleep soundly till dawn, sweat it out, and get better.

Arthur looked at the cloudy drink in the wax-white cup, and merely tapped the chair back with his head: “I certainly need to warm myself, but shouldn’t you untie me first? By the way, did you all come from Britain?”

The assassin looked pleased when Arthur mentioned Britain, and while untying the rope for Arthur, said: “That’s right, we’re all from Britain, but not from Great Britain, we’re from Little Britain (Brittany).”

“Brittany?” Arthur was taken aback: “You’re Bretons?”

Brittany is a region in northwest France. In French, Great Britain is called Grande Bretagne, which translated directly, means Great Brittany. In English, Brittany is written as Brittany, meaning Little Britain.

The connection between Brittany and Britain dates back to the 1st century BCE of the Roman Empire, when Europe, aside from civilized peoples—the Romans—was inhabited by three tribes seen as barbarian by the Romans, namely the Celts, Germans, and Slavs.

Among them, the Celts were mainly distributed in western Europe, and a branch of the Celts was called the Britons.

The territory of these Britons was located both on the Brittany Peninsula in Gaul and across the channel on the Great Britain Island.

Later, through warfare, the Roman Empire completed its campaign of conquest in western Europe and established the Gallic and British Provinces in France and Britain.

And when the Roman Empire declined, the Anglo-Saxons among the Germans crossed the English Channel to conquer Great Britain, establishing seven small kingdoms, while the Franks among the Germans conquered the Gaul region, establishing the Frankish Kingdom.