CHAPTER 906: CHAPTER 21: FRANCE EMPEROR’S STEP 1_3

"That pianist is him."

Louis laughed heartily and said, "My boss is usually quite busy. During the day from Monday to Friday, he works at Whitehall. In the evening, he goes to Martin’s Tavern in Whitechapel to keep an eye on things, or visits his old acquaintance, Mr. Wheatstone, in Greenwich to strengthen their bond. Every now and then, he also attends courses at the Royal Society. On Saturdays, he organizes concerts at several theaters near Covent Garden, and on Sundays, he reviews manuscripts at the ’British’ editorial office on Fleet Street."

Valevsky curiously asked, "Is this guy a workaholic? Doesn’t he ever participate in clubs or attend social gatherings?"

"Of course he does."

Louis replied, "When he doesn’t have any performance bookings on his days off, he’s a regular guest of the ladies of the Bluestocking Society. If there’s no event at the Bluestocking Society, he goes fox hunting in the woods outside the city with the young master of the Rothschild family, or plays golf with Mr. Talleyrand, or gathers friends like us together for a cricket game.

Playing cricket is the most interesting. Usually, we get up early and start preparing food in the morning, and once done, we take the packed food to the cricket field. A match lasts from morning till afternoon, and when we’re tired or hungry, we spread a blanket on the grass for a picnic, eating while chatting away."

At this point, Louis turned to ask, "And you, Alexander, what do you usually do?"

Valevsky blinked and replied, "I... well, I’m quite similar, really. But in the past two years, due to the issues in Poland, I’ve hardly had any peace and quiet."

Louis asked, "I know it’s rather impolite to ask, but... after the uprising in Poland failed, how did you return to Paris?"

Valevsky said, "After the fall of Warsaw, they quickly helped me with the paperwork for returning to France. To prevent Tsarist Russia from extraditing me using my Polish citizenship, Louis Philippe arranged for me to serve in the Foreign Legion of France. I was supposed to go to Algiers to fight with the legion, but since you were coming to Paris, the government postponed my trip so I could host you."

Louis fell silent for a while after hearing this.

Valevsky also knew what he was worried about, so he pursed his lips and comforted him, "Louis, it’s impossible to make an omelette without breaking eggs. I know this is tough for you, but since you’re already in Paris, you should go see Louis Philippe. You have reasons to despise him, and so do I, but circumstances are stronger than men. If you want to live openly in France, meeting him is necessary. Although he has many faults, he’s not a difficult person to get along with. Besides, at this moment, he needs something from you."

Louis frowned and asked, "What does he want from me?"

Valevsky sighed, "You must be aware of last year’s uprising in Paris, right? Louis Philippe wants to use your status to show goodwill to the Bonaparte Party domestically. Whether it’s sincere or not, he’s mentioned many times in front of me that he greatly respects Napoleon Bonaparte, and he’s considering moving Napoleon’s coffin from exile back to Paris for a grand funeral."

Louis, upon hearing this, felt a wave of nausea in his heart, having already guessed the ultimate purpose of Louis Philippe’s invitation for him to return home.

"He wants me to be the representative to bring back my uncle’s coffin from Saint Helena Island?"

Valevsky neither confirmed nor denied it, he just looked at Louis expectantly, "That is your uncle, and also my father. However, Louis, I can’t force you; the final decision is yours."

Louis closed his eyes, took a deep breath with his head tilted up, saying nothing, but from his heaving chest, it was clear that this proud Bonaparte was quite agitated.

He didn’t like such political transactions, let alone when the bargaining chip was the body of his most beloved uncle.

"Napoleon is already dead, yet even now, do they still want to squeeze a few more gold coins from him?"

No sooner had Louis finished speaking than the carriage came to an abrupt halt, almost throwing the two brothers out.

While still angry, Louis was about to scold the coachman, but before he could open his mouth, he saw the two culprits who stopped the carriage.

Arthur, one hand resting on a cane and the other slightly raised, wore impeccably clean white gloves.

"Louis, is this your new friend? Although it might be inappropriate for me to say this, if you’re not busy, why not lend me a hand? Mr. Victor is offering a good reward, at least noticeably higher than our starting salary at Scotland Yard."

Seeing this familiar British gentleman, Valevsky turned and asked his cousin, "Louis, do you know him?"

Seeing Arthur’s ’money matters’ expression, Louis could only shrug helplessly and say, "Let me introduce you, Alexander, this is the pianist in the theater, my former superior—Sir Arthur Hastings."