Chapter 1323: Chapter 180: 6th Rank Army Attaché Lord Hestingov
The button badge lingered in the old squire’s mind like an inescapable nightmare.
What could possibly make this elderly man, already halfway through his life, feel such terror?
On the surface, it was nothing more than an ordinary, unremarkable decorative button badge; its pattern not only failed to rival the trendy accessories sold in Paris fashion shops, but also did not emphasize the user’s refined taste and dignity.
The pattern on the badge was rely a dull and uninteresting white handkerchief.
However, for an old squire who regularly read the “Moscow News,” this was no ordinary handkerchief button badge, because it symbolized an organization—a shadowy organization that could shroud the Druiysk officialdom in darkness—the Tsar’s Office Third Bureau!
In 1826, Tsar Nicholas I formally accepted Count Benkendorf’s proposal to reorganize the special office of the Ho Office into the Imperial Office Third Bureau, and the Russian Empire began establishing a permanent political police. The official function of the Third Bureau in docunts was to provide protection for widows and orphans.
But in truth, everyone in Russia was well aware of the true function of the Third Bureau.
Their official badge was a handkerchief, given to Count Benkendorf by Tsar Nicholas I when he was appointed the first director of the Third Bureau. When gifting the handkerchief, His Majesty the Tsar also gave Benkendorf a piece of advice—this is my order to you, the more tears that are shed, the more my goals can be achieved.
This most secretive institution of the Imperial Office, though small in scale with only about 40 full-ti staff mbers, was evidently not less efficient. The Third Bureau could successfully complete any task assigned by the Tsar under any circumstances.
Of course, sotis not all credit could be given to the forty-plus people sitting in the office at the St. Petersburg headquarters, as most of the Third Bureau’s tasks were carried out by their informants and subordinates—those gendars in blue uniforms and white gloves.
The old squire stared at the button badge, feeling chills moving from head to toe.
In Russia, wherever this handkerchief badge appeared, nothing good ever happened; it brought only exile, imprisonnt, and even… death penalty!
Arthur had no idea why the old fellow suddenly went crazy, and as for the Third Bureau’s handkerchief badge, he was even less inford.
In his eyes, the handkerchief-patterned button was simply a small gift Shubinsky gave him when drunk, and if he hadn’t co to Russia, he wouldn’t have even bothered to pin the button badge on his sleeve.
If the two of them t in the future and Shubinsky ntioned the little gift he gave to Arthur, Arthur certainly couldn’t say he had tossed it into the junk box to gather dust long ago, could he?
Seeing the old man standing there with his mouth half open and eyes wide like copper bells, yet without greeting him, Arthur couldn’t bear the silence any longer and warmly approached to inquire, “Sir, what’s wrong?”
Of course, to emphasize his distinguished identity and arouse the other’s interest, he deliberately chose to greet him in German.
However, to Arthur’s surprise, upon hearing German, the old man could hardly stand steady.
The old man clutched his hat, bowing repeatedly with a smile so bright it seed he was advancing next month’s quota: “Oh, esteed sir, hello! You look unfamiliar, handso, strong, tall, clearly not soone who could have been raised in such a small place like this. You… you must be from so distant place, right? It’s really… really, welco, welco!”
At this point, the old man even eagerly stood up and walked over to Arthur, disregarding the civilian uniform he had treasured his whole life, raising his sleeve to diligently wipe the table before Arthur.
“This little inn is indeed quite humble! It’s truly disrespectful to have soone as dignified as you staying in such a place. You see, I don’t have many special qualities, but if I must say, one would be my enthusiasm and devout faith in God. I can’t stand seeing others suffer. In such cold weather, staying in such a chilly little inn, how can this be bearable? Especially seeing a good young man like you in hardship, it troubles even more. How about this, whatever arrangent you want, I can make it happen imdiately!”
While speaking, the old squire’s eyes couldn’t help but sweep over Arthur’s sleeve badge multiple tis, as if confirming whether his old eyes had deceived him before.
Though Arthur couldn’t figure out what ga the old fellow was playing, the old agent knew how to read the situation and had experienced flattery before.
However, the last person who had flattered him so respectfully was the ambitious young man Ledley King of Scotland Yard.
Following the old squire’s wandering gaze, Arthur found the reason for this old man, who didn’t even regard the mayor and judge seriously, to be fearful—the badge Shubinsky had given him.
Ah…
Gradually, Arthur started to get the gist of it, unconsciously elevating his false identity by eight ranks.
What nonsense about a minor imperial civil servant? The fourteenth rank civil servant Arthur Agaresovich Hestingov!
Standing here now is: the Russian Empire’s Sixth Rank Military Officer (Army Counselor), Gendarrie First District Gendarrie Staff, Guard Infantry Colonel Arthur Agaresovich Hestingov!
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