Chapter 137 Chapter 137 You must have heard of Vongola...

This was the "homework" Humphrey assigned to Bernard. Meanwhile, although Humphrey believed their minister was far from foolish enough to leak such a thing to an Italian, he still did his best to investigate. Because he was such a control freak that he could not tolerate any unexpected situations.

At the right moment, Humphrey found his all-knowing teacher, Arnold Robinson, the Cabinet Secretary, and sat down for tea. After a series of meaningless pleasantries, Humphrey finally got to the point. "Yes, like the Duke of Caserta."

"The Duke of Caserta?"

Apparently, Arnold had the same doubts as Humphrey. Humphrey feigned ignorance and told Arnold who it was, "It's Elio Vongola from Sicily. You must know him."

Arnold was like, "Oh!"

He actually knew the inside story. Humphrey was delighted, but Arnold didn't say anything more, just sipping his tea. His expression was somewhere between inscrutable and indifferent, which really made Humphrey feel uneasy.

"Arnold..." Humphrey said in a long tone, almost like a spoiled child.

Arnold smiled. This smile finally revealed a bit of his true thoughts, that is, he was already clear about Humphrey's intentions. Because, in fact, if Humphrey really knew who this "Elio Vongola" was, he would not open the conversation with some aristocratic joke.

No matter how applicable the jokes are to them in Britain.

"You must have heard of Vongola." Arnold asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well," Humphrey said, "I only know that Vongola is the Italian name for a variety of small edible clams..."

Under Arnold's gaze, Humphrey swallowed the rest of his words. Even with his hair now turning a beautiful gray, Humphrey was still a junior whom Arnold could mentor. Meanwhile, the fifty-six-year-old "junior" casually lowered his head and sipped his tea.

"Three years ago, when Italy was founded," Arnold put down his teacup, a signal that he was getting serious, "Emanuele II recognized almost all the existing noble titles in Italy. That's why most of them have surnames like Savoy, Borghese, Colonna, Doria, and Visconti. They always have some indelible blood connection with the royal family."

"That's the part I learned," Humphrey said.

"But not all 'dukes' are related to the royal family," Arnold said. "Look, Arthur Wellesley was awarded the title of Duke because he defeated Napoleon at the Battle of Waterloo."

Humphrey knew this, of course. He smiled. "So our 'Elio Vongola' defeated Francesco II at the Battle of the Volturno?"

"Of course not," Arnold said, "that's Giotto Vongola, Duke of Volturno."

There really is such a person! But before Humphrey could be surprised, Arnold calmly pointed out a very obvious fact, "They both have the last name Vongola. So I asked you if you had heard of Vongola, and you obviously hadn't. Because if you knew Vongola, you wouldn't ask anyone with the last name Vongola who they were."

Humphrey grasped the point of the question, "So what exactly is a Vongola?"

"This one," Arnold picked up the teacup and took a sip of tea, "is Italian for clams, just like you said."

"Arnold..."

"Before we talk about the Vongola," Arnold hinted, "you must understand that Italy has its own unique national conditions. In that boot-shaped land, the Mafia has always played a greater role than the king and his army. And a Mafia family that started out as a militia would sloppily use a food like 'clams' as its surname, rather than the glorious Visconti."

Humphrey was shocked, "You said the Vongola were the Mafia!"

"I didn't say that," Arnold quickly denied.

But as we all know, the truth is often revealed by official denials. Humphrey, with decades of experience in the civil service, naturally understood Arnold's point. After all, in Whitehall, "no" often meant "yes." Upon realizing this, Humphrey's expression became somewhat subtle: he knew the Duke of Caserta was part of the Italian Mafia, he knew Huck was worried about Italian terrorists obtaining British arms, and he knew Huck had a close personal relationship with the Duke of Caserta...

"Your minister is not involved in this matter?" Arnold asked appropriately.

Humphrey smiled awkwardly, "What is it?"

"Oh, that's good," Arnold also smiled, "Then I won't have to remind you that the Vongola is rapidly expanding in Europe and is even getting involved in other parts of the world."

Humphrey, sweating profusely, nearly knocked over the china cup as he tried to soothe himself with the cool, bitter liquid.

Coincidentally, Huck's performance at the reception was rarely "united with Humphrey." He drank a few glasses of champagne as usual and got drunk easily as usual, because his alcohol tolerance was not very good, but he insisted that his alcohol tolerance was very good and he was not drunk at all; when he reached out to take another glass of champagne and Bernard tried to stop him with sweat, a hand reached out from the side and stopped Huck at the right time.

"What's the matter, Jim?" the hand's owner asked with a smile. "You seem to be particularly fond of our champagne today!"

Bernard was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he discovered that the person who took the glass of champagne was actually the Duke of Caserta. He signaled the waiter with the other champagne to go away temporarily, seemingly to stop Huck from getting drunk, but the sight of such a sober man really made Bernard a little uneasy, after all, they were hiding something from him.

"Yeah, champagne's always good!" muttered Huck.

Bernard breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed Huck wasn't as drunk as he had imagined...

"Better than terrorists!" Huck complained.

Bernard was desperate.

"Terrorists?" Elio laughed. "I don't know when you started caring about terrorists, Jim, although it seems to me that the streets of London are already full of them."

Huck was suddenly awakened by his shock. "London? Terrorists?"

"Isn't that the International Freedom Army you told me about last time?"

"Oh, oh, yes."

"And the Cinder Gang, the Thugs Gang..."

"What?!"

Huck was horrified. Now he was truly wide awake. Elio also gave him a surprised look and asked considerately, "Excuse me, didn't you know?"

"Uh, this..."

"It's not the administration department's business. I understand." Elio said considerately.

"No," Huck said, grabbing the steps and descending quickly. "I mean, no. In fact, that's the domain of the Interior Department, or the Commerce Department, or the Defense Department, or even the Foreign Office..." He quickly realized he was quoting Humphrey and closed his mouth painfully. How could he have fallen to this point!

"Even the Ministry of Foreign Affairs?" Elio raised an eyebrow.

"Even the Foreign Office," Huck went on, having to bite the bullet. "Because, you know, if there were foreigners in London..."

"Like Italians?"

"Yes, like Italians! Oh, no, Elio, that's not what I meant."

"Like the French, then."

"Not French either!" Huck denied vehemently.

"What the Minister means," Bernard interjected appropriately, "is that he's concerned for everyone who might be at risk of a terrorist attack, regardless of nationality, regardless of which department's jurisdiction it is, even if it's not the Executive's at all."

Huck finally breathed a sigh of relief. "That's what I meant." He pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped away his humanitarian tears, but in fact he was just wiping the sweat from his forehead. Fortunately, Bernard came to the rescue!

"Oh," Elio glanced at Bernard and didn't ask any further questions. "I see. I'm glad you're worried about these things, Jim. You're probably one of the few government officials who still cares about the people."

Bernard glanced at Huck. It was a perfectly reasonable response; Huck should have said that all members of Whitehall were concerned for the common people, that they stood together and didn't need Bernard's help. But perhaps his still-beating conscience had taken over, and Huck sighed deeply, wiped away a tear (this time a real tear), and said, "I suppose I don't deserve it, Elio!"

Elio raised an eyebrow. He hesitated, holding his glass of champagne, and glanced at Bernard. Their eyes met in mid-air.

"You may be drunk, Jim," Elio said gently. "How about your secretary help you get some rest?"

Huck is indeed a little drunk, but unlike usual, what makes him willing to admit that he is drunk this time is that he hopes to prevent the Italian terrorists from getting the arms, but he can't. What is more terrifying and more appropriate is that it is Elio, the Duke of Italy, who prevents him from revealing his true feelings.

Politics!

Huck said nothing more. Like a quiet drunk, he let Bernard support him and, under Elio's guidance, lay down in the lounge. The lounge was empty. After Bernard settled Huck down, he was about to go out for some lemonade or something, but he found Elio still there at the door.

He immediately became alert, like a Bernese mountain with bristling hairs. "The Minister would be very touched if he knew you were here."

But Elio didn't respond. The Duke of Caserta leaned against the corridor across from the lounge, thoughtfully swirling his tulip glass of champagne. Fine golden bubbles rose to the rim, shimmering with the swirl; yet, somehow, the Duke's face remained perfectly shadowed.

"You see, Jim is a man of conscience," the Duke replied irrelevantly. "We take conscience for granted, but among politicians, you and I both know how rare it is."

Bernard should have replied, "I don't know what you're talking about." But for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to say it. Perhaps from his complex expression, the Duke sensed the presence of Bernard's conscience and smiled faintly in the shadows.

"He lost his temper," Elio said bluntly. "You and I both know that. But it was a matter of conscience, so tell him, Secretary, if you feel it's necessary, that worrying about terrorists is not a shameful thing, Jim. This is a war that will never end. If he needs any help, I'll tell him I'm his comrade. But if he wants, I'll pretend that nothing happened."

Bernard should have said he had no idea what the Duke was talking about. But somehow, perhaps the aroma of champagne had clouded his mind, and the young secretary asked, "Do you think you are his comrade?"

“I think when it comes to fighting terrorists,” Elio said, “we’re all on the same page.”

Bernard gave him a long look. Then, impeccably, the promising Principal Private Secretary replied, "Yes, Your Excellency. Every nation and every person stands on this united front."

Elio smiled. Bernard couldn't explain why, but it didn't matter. The Duke of Caserta gave him a final nod and a polite, "Good evening." Then, just as Bernard had intended, he left the corridor. As he did so, Elio passed Humphrey.

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Author's words: DAA trio: sweating profusely