Chapter 657 Illegitimate Children Are Not a French Patent

The deputy president, wearing blue glasses, held a thick file in his hand, flipping through it while muttering: "I have examined Ogarev's case. I have to say that this case is very strange and confusing. But..."

"This is a special warrant from the Petersburg High Criminal Court." The deputy president took out a document covered with double-headed eagle wax from the drawer: "According to Article 47 of the Preventive Detention Regulations, the judicial review power for cases involving endangerment to national security shall be exercised by the Military Police Command."

Arthur's index finger tapped lightly on the armrest of the carved chair. This was a habit he developed in the interrogation room of Scotland Yard. The firelight from the fireplace dyed the deputy president's gray sideburns dark red, reminding him of the old judge he often dealt with at the Old Bailey Court in London.

"That is to say..." Arthur's Russian was elegant and strange: "Even if the military police detained him beyond the legal period, the court has no right to ask?"

The vice president nodded respectfully, and then cast his eyes to Herzen beside Arthur: "Who is this?"

Arthur waved his hand gently and said: "A young man who runs around for a friend who was wrongfully imprisoned, an enthusiastic young man."

A glimmer flashed behind the blue lenses of the vice president, and his fingers stroked the brittle paper on the edge of the file: "Alexander Ivanovich Herzen?"

Herzen didn't expect the vice president to directly reveal his name, he nodded blankly: "That's right."

The vice president asked the clerk to make a pot of tea for the two of them. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to talk about Ogarev's case. He smiled politely at Arthur first, and then chatted with Herzen: "Ivan Alexeevich Yakovlev is your father, right?"

The oak door with copper corners was suddenly pushed open, and the cold wind wrapped in snow particles rolled into the room.

Six servants in bearskin cloaks stood on both sides like swordfish. From among the servants emerged an old nobleman with a gloomy expression. His armband embroidered with gold thread shone coldly under the candlelight - this was a symbol only possessed by the Tsar's confidants who had served as imperial attendants.

Ivan Yakovlev's cane tapped the marble floor. The amber inlaid on the cane head contained a double-headed eagle emblem. His mink collar was still stained with snow from the Kremlin wall. It was obvious that he had come directly from the office of the Governor-General of Moscow, Duke Golitsyn.

"Nicholas Sergeyevich." The old nobleman's voice was like the frozen Volga River: "My son has caused you trouble."

Herzen's knees began to tremble, and even his teeth could not help trembling.

"Ivan Alexeevich!" The vice president stood up and hugged him warmly, and even his blue glasses slipped to the tip of his nose accidentally: "We were just talking about your son's good deeds..."

"Good deeds?" The old nobleman lifted the hem of Herzen's coat with a silver-handled cane, revealing the copper buttons of the land and resources office uniform: "Wearing state-issued clothes to get involved in political prisoners' cases, is this the rule you learned in the Privy Council Archives?"

Arthur's fingertips tapped three times on his cuffs - this was the code he used to remind his colleagues to pay attention to body language during the interrogation at Scotland Yard.

He noticed that there was a secret compartment under the vice president's desk, where the old man had pressed his knee when taking the warrant just now. The secret compartment was now half open because he stood up, revealing half of an envelope with the military police emblem printed on it.

"Come home with me!" Yakovlev threw out a pass with a double-headed eagle wax on it and tapped Herzen on the shoulder with his cane: "Take it! Your transfer order, go to Ryazan Province to check the serf tax list starting tomorrow."

At this point, the old man suddenly switched to German, sounding like a commander giving orders: "If you dare to get involved with these Polish scum again, I will bury your mother in the Lutheran cemetery!"

Yakovlev's eyes were like an eagle. He stared at Herzen closely until he saw his son lower his head to express his obedience to him and walked out of the vice-president's office as he requested. Only then did the anger in his eyes subside a little.

He turned his eyes to Arthur, and his tone became much gentler: "Sir Arthur Hastings?"

Arthur took off his gloves and extended his hand to him: "Nice to meet you, Mr. Yakovlev."

Yakovlev did not shake Arthur's hand. He just looked at the British knight who almost dragged his son into danger. Then he poked the floor with his cane and shook his head and said: "You shouldn't fool around with young people, at least a steady young man like you shouldn't do this. Although young people like to play, this time it's obviously over the line."

After speaking, Yakovlev left the office without looking back. In the corridor, he could still hear his voice cursing Herzen in a low voice.

It was a strange accent mixed with Russian, French and German. Perhaps only close friends and family could understand what the old man was cursing.

But unfortunately, Arthur also understood.

"Do you think that Englishman is the savior? The arsenic hidden in his cufflinks is enough to poison the entire choir!"

Arthur's fingertips paused on the carved chair armrest. He laughed helplessly, then stood up calmly, the hem of his black woolen coat swept across the copper railing by the stove, as if he wanted to move a few times, or as if he wanted to avoid embarrassment.

He finally made up his mind to do a good thing, but he was immediately regarded as a weirdo who encouraged his son to rebel.

Although from the reality of Russia, what they said is indeed correct.

The vice president took off his glasses and took out his handkerchief to wipe the lenses. This action lasted for a full minute, until he saw the curtain call of Herzen's family drama, and then slowly complimented: "Your reputation has spread throughout Moscow during this period, and everyone said that you are an amazing scholar, and It is the one who knows Russia best among scholars. Duke Dmitry Golitzen praised you whenever he met everyone, saying that you could memorize Karamzin's "History of Russia's State". "

Arthur smiled and shook his head. Without Herzen, he would have no motivation to overturn Ogalov. But it's still early today. I'm chatting with this top figure in the Moscow judicial circle. It's always good to expand the relationship.

"I did read that book, but it would be an over-reputation to say that I could memorize it."

"What do you like the most about these words?"

"What are the famous quotes? I actually like many things, but if I have to choose, it is probably that sentence - it raises its head in the depths of the north, between Asia and Europe, and its folk image is reflected. The traits of two worlds: the Slavs who were mixed with the tribes of the East and headed to Europe. "

Arthur couldn't help but pause when he said this.

Because in fact, he never favored this conclusive summary.

Compared to these boring summaries, such as the "Moscow Principality's strength should be attributed to the Mongolian Golden Horde. If there were no Mongol intervention, there would be no later powerful Russian Empire. The Mongol rule had a decisive role in Russia's political transformation. The invasion of Badu completely overturned Russia's rule, and then found good causes in destruction. The overall advantage was shown, which further promoted the formation of the Russian autocratic system. These seem to make sense and make the remarks of Western and Slavic factions seem more entertaining.

Overall, Arthur's interest in historians like Kalamzin was obviously not as much interest in historians like Thier.

Although Thierl's writings on the Napoleonic Wars have been repeatedly criticized by the Duke of Wellington, a war witness, as being imprudent and whimsical, this does not prevent Thierl from writing well.

When Arthur thought of this, he couldn't help but recommend Thier's "History of the French Revolution" to the vice president.

As for the reason...

First, of course, it is because this book is good.

Second, the English version of this book is currently being published by "Britain".

Although the vice president did not reject Arthur's recommendation, he still pulled the topic back: "When I was young, I was like you, interested in the history of France. I felt that the Revolution was like a ball of fire, can It burned the whole world. But, as I got older, I became more and more concerned about the history of Russia. Do you know what sentence I like most about "History of Russia's State"? "

"Let me guess." Arthur thought for a moment: "When you were young, you liked the Great Revolution, so most of the sentences you liked appeared in the chapter that concerns Peter the Great."

"If I were twenty years younger, maybe that's what I'm going to say," the vice president recalled. "Now, I prefer what Ivan the thirty emperor said when he set up a special jurisdiction - to make fear the cornerstone of his rule. . Look, three hundred years have passed, and Moscow still needs firewood to keep warm in winter."

The firewood in the fireplace suddenly burst out with a crisp sound, and Mars splashed between the two.

Russian bureaucrats like to go around the corner when speaking, but fortunately, British bureaucrats also have this habit, so Arthur certainly understood what the vice president meant.

His old palm, wearing a sapphire ring, pressed the half-open secret wall of the table as if nothing had happened. The gendarmerie headquarters' fire-painted seals loom in the shadows, like the cover of a cheap horror novel peddled by a street boy in London.

The other party was tactfully persuading him to retreat.

But since the image of a liberal has been established, Arthur did not intend to retreat here, at least he did not intend to retreat immediately, because this was not conducive to the development of later work.

Besides, if the Russians find out that he, the British Lord, is not a liberal, they will feel strange.

Arthur picked up the golden teacup and let the steaming heat hang fine water droplets on his eyebrows: "Fear is indeed an efficient fuel, just like a farmer who burns horse manure to keep warm in winter - but it is inevitable to pickle after burning for a long time. ”

The vice president's cheeks, covered with age spots, twitched twice, and suddenly burst into laughter. He seemed to like Arthur's joke.

The vice president turned around and pulled out a bottle of Georgian wine from the depths of the bookcase. The crimson liquid shone with blood in the carved glass bottle: "So smart people will prepare two kinds of fuel, do you think? Just like the gentlemen of Petersburg Karamzin's history books need to decorate the facade, and Benkendorf's military police need to maintain decentness."

There is no mistake, one, one, one, one, one, one, one, one 619, one book, one, one, one, one, one, one, a book!

The old bureaucrats fight, just click until they are done.

Neither of them continued to delve into this issue. Arthur picked up the wine glass and clashed with the vice president, making a crisp sound: "Since just now, I have always had a doubt."

The vice president quipped tentatively: "Is it related to horse manure?"

Arthur pondered for a while, and seemed very distressed: "That depends on how you define it. I mean, my problem has something to do with Mr. Herzen's father."

The vice president raised his neck and drank the wine in one go: "That really requires a specific analysis of specific issues. You can talk about it first."

"Mr. Herzen is named Herzen, right?"

"Of course, if a horse is not a horse, can it still be a donkey?"

"It seems that I am not the only one who thinks so. But have you forgotten? Isn't his father's surname Yakovlev?"

"Oh..." The vice president paused: "So you are talking about this."

Arthur's fingertips were drawn in circles at the edge of the wine glass, and the amber pupils reflected the swaying candlelight: "Ivan Alexeyevich Yakovlev, Alexander Ivanovic Herzen - According to the Russian naming tradition, it is like His Majesty the Tsar suddenly danced an Irish Gigg dance in the Hermitage. Don't you find it funny?

The deputy director poured wine into the goblet suddenly became extremely slow, and the dark red wine rolled up a dark red vortex along the wall of the glass: "Don't you think the vodka in Moscow is better at keeping secrets than the gin in London? ”

"But you chose Georgian wine today." Arthur suddenly touched the dark square under the table legs with his boot tip. The sound of metal hitting was particularly clear in the quiet room: "The vines of Tbilisi, but listen to Persia The story of caravans and Ottoman cavalry grew up.”

"Okay, if you insist on listening," the vice president warned in advance: "You have to make sure you won't tell Yakovlev the next words. He has always been taboo to talk about this to outsiders. Because from a legal point of view, he has not married yet and has never had a son."

"Ah..." Arthur suddenly realized, "I think I probably understand that this kind of thing often happens in British law. In Britain, this kind of thing happened only in the families of great nobles, and now it is even medium-sized The class has also begun to learn in a good manner."

"It seems that Russia is not as advanced as Britain, and we are more traditional here." The vice president smiled and said, "Just as you said, similar things still only happen to aristocratic families. However, this does not prevent Ya from Kovlev is a weirdo. Because he didn't marry that German woman and did not retain any lovers outside, everyone didn't know what he was trying to do this."

The vice president filled Arthur's glasses: "You think, an old man, only such a son, never willing to give him and his mother the legal identity, and refused to give Yakovlev's surname on his head. . You know, if his son's surname is Yakovlev, not Herzen, then many things don't have to be so troublesome. You are not from Moscow, so you don't know, the Yakovlev family How old is the history of Moscow? Their family's history is even longer than the Romanov dynasty. When Russia was called the Grand Principal of Moscow, they were already great nobles with luxurious manors."

Arthur also couldn't understand Herzen's father's actions: "If you say that, then he really took a step forward. If Herzen used the surname Yakovlev, he would also use it to study Moscow University. I don't have to go and walk to Duke Yusupov. I remember that it seems easy to go to Moscow University to study, right? "

"Do you know this?" The vice president blinked: "Tell you this way. Without your surname, you don't have to study at Moscow University, not only do you have to follow the path of Duke Yusupov. You know that young man Is the identity used to go to college also fake? When he went to college, he used the surname "Ivanov", and the document was signed by me."

Arthur thought that what he did in Druidske was already amazing, but what he didn't expect was that the business of obtaining fake certificates was so common in Russia.

It's no wonder...

No wonder Shubinsky had no intention of being afraid when he issued him a fake travel permit and fake identity information.

When the vice president said this, he was still nagging: "I want me to say that Yakovlev should have listened to some old friends at the beginning. I still remember it was probably in the past few years, An old comrade came to visit him, including the head of Orenburg Province Peter Kirillovic Essen and General Alexey Nikolayevich Bakmetev of the Governor of Bisarabia .

At that time, Essen kindly advised him, 'Tell me this matter, I arranged for this kid to join the army in the Ural Cossacks and cultivate him to be an officer-this is the first priority, and he will be able to gradually move like all of us. Promoted. ’

But Yakovlev disagreed and said that he disliked all military positions. He hoped that his son could be a diplomat in a mild climate in the future, and he could spend his old age there.

General Bachmetev rarely interrupted, but when he heard this, even if he had only one leg left, he stood up and spoke with a crutch.

‘I think Peter Kirillovic’s advice is worthy of your serious consideration. If you don't want him to go to Orenburg, then join the army here. I am old friends with you, so I might as well say to you: Being a civil servant and going to college will not benefit you, the young master, nor will it benefit society. It is not to be dismissed that his situation is a bit embarrassing. Only military positions can open the door to his career in one fell swoop and let him go on a normal path. Until he is promoted to company commander, all dangerous ideas will disappear. The military discipline is a university, and everything from then on depends on his efforts. You said he is talented, but can only fools become officers? Isn’t this how I, you and others, come here? You have only one thing to object, and that is that he has to spend more time to obtain the rank of officer. But in this matter, we can help you. ""

The vice president couldn't help but sighed when he said this: "Looking back now, General Bakhmetev's words are very insightful. Letting this boy study at Moscow University is not only not good for him, but now he has acquired a lot of bad habits."

Suddenly, hurried footsteps came from the corridor. The clerk pushed the door open in a panic: "Someone from the gendarmerie headquarters is here! He said he wants to review the case file filed yesterday..."

The sound of heavy military boots drowned out his voice.

Four gray-coated gendarmes filed in, and the leading captain's pupils suddenly contracted when he saw Arthur.

Arthur noticed that his right index finger had a callus formed by long-term trigger pulling, which was a sign of the Tsar's Guards.

"By order of General Volkov." The captain's saber scabbard knocked against the marble floor: "Retrieve all judicial records of the Nikolai Ogarev case."

The vice president pressed the file with his skinny fingers: "According to the Judicial Reform Act of 1832..."

"Supplementary provisions of the Eighth Amendment to the Act!" The captain drew out his saber and slapped it on the table. The bronze eagle emblem on the handle shook the ink bottle slightly: "For cases involving the safety of the royal family, the gendarmerie headquarters has the right to call on documents from any department. Do you need me to recite the full text, sir? Every year when the Neva River thaws in spring, most of the bridges in St. Petersburg will be washed away. Don't make trouble for yourself on this issue."