The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 560 - 288: Children Immigration Plan

"Indeed, I am Arthur Hastings."

Ordinary Britons typically despise the act of chumming up uninvited, but as an atypical British gentleman and a detective at Scotland Yard, Arthur never spurned such encounters.

It was due to this peculiarity that he often gleaned unexpected information from many a street encounter, and today’s exchange proved to deliver equally unusual tidings.

The middle-aged gentleman, upon hearing this, excitedly grasped Arthur’s hand.

"God save us! It really is you! Truly, God must have sent you to rescue those poor children!"

"Poor children? Sir, may I be so bold as to ask who you might be?"

"Oh, my apologies! I have forgotten to introduce myself."

The middle-aged gentleman hurriedly extracted a business card from his jacket pocket and handed it over respectfully: "I am Edward Brenton, chairman of the Friends of the British Children’s Society. I have read about your stories in London newspapers. You are a gentleman of integrity and compassion, a Scotland Yard detective who cannot abide even a hint of evil."

No sooner had Agares returned from his walk than he opened the door and heard someone buttering Arthur up. The Red Devil, removing his hat and tossing it onto the counter, downed his beer with one gulp: "Burp! Not bad, Arthur, I thought I was the only one looking to discuss business with you today, but it seems you’re rather busy."

Arthur glanced at the Red Devil and then turned his attention back to the gentleman before him.

Though aware that compliments usually came at a cost, he nonetheless decided to hear out what price the other party had in mind.

"Sir, who referred you to me, and what problem have you encountered?"

Brenton quickly explained: "I was referred by Mr. Schwaiger, and as per my identity, you can see it on the business card. As the chairman of the Friends of the British Children’s Society, I am dedicated to helping children living on the streets find a new home. To be more precise, we offer free sponsorship for them to travel to overseas colonies..."

"Wait a moment!" Arthur raised his hand to interrupt Brenton: "Sir, are you telling me that your business is to send underage children to work overseas? The Devil take it! I had thought Liverpool’s main industry was no longer the slave trade."

Brenton, evidently not new to such accusations, defended himself vehemently: "Don’t misunderstand, our society is not involved in the slave trade, all our operations are non-profit. We sincerely want to help those children establish careers overseas, which is far better than allowing them to beg, steal, or scavenge for scraps and shine shoes in the home country."

Arthur, tidying up the papers on his desk, stood up: "Sir, since you’ve read about my experiences in the newspapers, you must surely know which case it was that established my reputation. Or, even if we put that aside and suppose you truly have good intentions, I still cannot agree that sending a group of children to overseas colonies is an idea that squares with God."

Also, if you would excuse me, I now must see Mr. Schwaiger to have a serious talk about his import and export trade. If the port authorities release his ship and he intends to use it for such purposes, then forget that I ever discussed advertising with him."

Seeing Arthur turn to leave, Brenton hurriedly stepped forward to detain him: "Mr. Hastings, why bother confronting Mr. Schwaiger? I can give you answers right here. Indeed, we have chartered a ship from him to transport several hundred children to Canada."

The Red Devil, upon hearing this, couldn’t help but slap his thigh gleefully: "The old boy’s given himself away! Arthur, go on and shoot him dead, more souls offer more bargaining chips, and then you and I can properly discuss our next deal."

Arthur pondered Agares’s words, unable to discern which of the thirty-six stratagems the Red Devil was deploying today.

But one thing Arthur was certain of was that if this gentleman could make Agares, a devil who never awoke for no profit, so magnanimously open his mouth, there must certainly be something about him that could net the Red Devil souls.

With this thought, Arthur came to a sudden halt, pulling out his pocket watch for a glance. He then asked in earnest, "Mr. Brenton, you have three minutes, it would be best if you could clarify this matter."

Brenton, seizing the moment as Arthur seemed to relent, promptly took the opportunity to clarify his plea.

"Mr. Hastings, first off, to gain your trust, the society is willing to open all our accounts for your inspection. Moreover, I can swear before God on my conscience here and now, if I have earned even a penny of unjust wealth from these children, then may I descend into Hell!

You, being an officer of the law, must surely be aware of the number of vagrants currently residing in Britain’s urban areas. Take London, for example. According to our society’s statistics, there are around a hundred thousand homeless people in Greater London alone, and a considerable portion of them are children.

These children, lacking mature concepts and the ability to judge right from wrong, are easily swayed by others into engaging in illicit activities. Notably, London’s Old Bailey has in the last thirty years sentenced 103 children under the age of fourteen to death for crimes, with countless others sent to penal colonies. And there are several such criminal courts like the Old Bailey throughout London.

Even if they possess innate goodness and are not drawn to wickedness, but instead try to sustain themselves through their own efforts... I, I do not know if you have ever been to the factories in the East End, but the children there have not a moment to attend school or play."