## Chapter 225: Information Advantage
The small tavern outside the Coburg Theater was unusually bustling, thanks to the evening’s concert, extending its usual closing hours.
Arthur sat on a walnut chair, one hand resting on the bar counter, the other stirring the foam of his silver-rimmed beer mug.
Tony and Pinkerton sat beside him, their faces still bearing traces of lingering anxiety.
Tony clutched his hat on the counter, took a gulp of beer, and the trembling in his hands finally ceased under the influence of alcohol.
“Arthur, you wouldn’t believe how close we came to getting caught tonight. If it hadn’t been for Fiona covering for us, we would have been exposed.”
Arthur paused his stirring, his expression turning serious. “What happened?”
Tony explained, “Everything was going according to plan. We sent Aaron through the ventilation shaft, Fiona opened Lady Leven’s bedroom door, and she was our lookout. But who could have predicted that Lord Leven, who had been away on a trip, would suddenly return?”
“Apparently, Lord Leven was exhausted from his journey, and he went straight to his bedroom and fell asleep. Luckily, Aaron was quick-witted and slipped under the bed just as Lord Leven was about to enter, preventing a disaster.”
“Under the bed?” Arthur chuckled, recalling the fantastical tales Tom and Dumas had shared with him earlier. “Perhaps I should check under my bed before I sleep tonight. Seems like it’s become a popular spot.”
“Arthur, what are you talking about?”
“Nothing, I just think I understand why Lady Leven was so eager to leave tonight. Her husband came back. I thought these high-society nobles wouldn’t care about rumors, but I guess I was wrong.”
Tony shook his head, “Maybe Lady Leven didn’t leave because of that. Aaron told me that Lord Leven had only been asleep for a while when he was called up by a servant. From what they said, it seemed like a messenger had arrived from afar and wanted to see him. Fiona, while serving the messenger tea, eavesdropped for a bit. But their German accent was too heavy, and all she could make out were two key words: Warsaw and Poland.”
“Poland?”
Arthur felt a prickle of unease at the mention of the country.
The Kingdom of Poland, established in 1815 on the ashes of the Duchy of Warsaw after the Napoleonic Wars, was a delicate balancing act.
At the Congress of Vienna, where the victors of the Napoleonic Wars carved up the spoils, Russia, to avoid excessive suspicion from Britain, Austria, and other countries, had assured everyone that the newly formed Kingdom of Poland was merely a personal union with the Russian Empire. Poland would retain its independent army, parliament, currency, and laws. The Tsar of Russia, upon accepting the Polish throne, would swear allegiance to the Polish constitution.
However, just a few years later, Russia began imposing censorship in Poland, and the secret police of the Imperial Chancellery were soon wreaking havoc.
Underground Polish organizations were uprooted one after another by the Third Department of the Imperial Chancellery. The number of political groups that were suppressed was countless, and the number of Poles executed or exiled stretched from the east to the west of Warsaw.
Under the rule of the current Tsar Nicholas I, the situation worsened. He not only refused to swear allegiance to the Polish constitution but also continued to curtail the Kingdom of Poland’s rights within the personal union. Government and parliamentary officials were no longer elected but directly appointed by Nicholas I.
The Catholic Church in Poland was banned outright, and the Polish Orthodox Church wasn’t much better off.
All decrees issued by the Polish Orthodox Church had to be approved by Tsar Nicholas I. Any decree that didn’t bear his seal was considered illegitimate in the eyes of God. He effectively demonstrated what it meant to be “more knowledgeable than God about God.”
Naturally, the Polish people were not happy with Russia’s treatment of their country.
Although the British public didn’t pay much attention to the Poles thousands of miles away, Arthur occasionally caught glimpses of brief comments about Poland’s situation in the corners of The Times.
In short, the Kingdom of Poland had a plethora of examples of small-scale uprisings.
Tony’s mention of Poland had jolted Arthur awake.
Even though he wasn’t particularly interested in European history in his previous life, he knew that Poland and Russia had a history of hostility.
It was common knowledge that Poland, with its “Spear of God,” had a natural adversary and enemy: the Ottoman Turks.
But, to deal with Russia, the Poles were willing to learn from the French and ally with the Turks, becoming pious sons of the Church.
As Arthur pondered this, the clues in his mind started to coalesce. He quickly asked, “After talking to the messenger, did Lord Leven meet with Count Orlov, the Russian ambassador?”
Tony’s jaw dropped in astonishment, “How…how did you know? I was just about to tell you. Count Orlov met with Lord Leven and then left the embassy in a carriage. Chief Inspector Field decided to follow him, and he hasn’t returned yet.”
Arthur’s mind was now set. “Orlov likely went to the docks. Something big must have happened in Poland, at least a major uprising, maybe even a full-blown rebellion like in Belgium. With something this big happening, Nicholas I would be eager to call his close allies back to discuss the situation. After all, he doesn’t trust most people in the Russian court.”
Tony, still in a state of bewilderment, asked, “But…what does this have to do with us?”
“Of course, it has to do with us! Tony, the entire budget of our LPS depends on this information.”
Arthur smiled, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket, and wrote a note. He then handed it to Tony, “Take this to the Duke of Wellington’s mansion and tell him personally that if Count Orlov is absent from tomorrow’s meeting, and if Russia is eager to finalize the agreement on Belgian independence, then based on the information LPS has gathered, we have reason to believe that Russia has a fire in its own backyard, a major uprising in Poland.”
Tony, somewhat apprehensive, asked, “Arthur, I know you’re always right. But…what if there’s no uprising in Poland? What if the information is wrong? Won’t the Duke of Wellington blame us?”
Arthur chuckled, “It doesn’t matter if the information is right or wrong. We just need to provide the Duke with a possibility. After all, delaying the meeting for a few days won’t hurt Britain. If the information is wrong, we’ll just have to host the foreign delegations for a few more days. But if the information is right…”
Tony’s eyes lit up, “If the information is right, then we’ve managed to bite off a chunk of meat from the Russians. They’ll have to swallow their pride because they’ll be too busy dealing with Poland. They won’t be able to refuse us.”
“Exactly,” Arthur stood up, drained his beer, and said, “Tony, when you see the Duke, try to be as presentable as possible. Maybe he’ll be so happy that he’ll give you a marshal’s baton.”
Tony’s face broke into a smile. “Right, he has eight of them, so he can spare me one.”
(End of Chapter)