The Dartmoor Disappearance Case (1)

choo choo choo –

“…well, that’s how it happened.”

“That’s true… it’s a strange relationship.”

“Who said no?”

On the train back to Devon.

I shrugged my shoulders and said, after telling the story of my meeting with Arthur Conan Doyle.

The first person I met by chance in London was Arthur Conan Doyle, and he read my novel and decided to write Holmes again ’10 years’ too soon.

It was so amazing that I wouldn’t believe it even if it was said to me last year.

Well, it’s something I’ve been through, but it’s really awesome to the point where I wonder if I’m really lucky. Did I have any luck-boosting items?

“Hmm, it’s a meeting of the best writers of this century… that’s interesting.”

“The best is, almost… no. If I say more, it only hurts my mouth.”

In fact, it is a common thing in this era that writers come into contact with each other.

In this 19th century England, where there were no regular contests or public appearances, more than 50% of the way to become a writer was through personal connections.

Basically, it means that the debuting writers know everything as much as they know each other.

The reason is simple.

This is because, unlike the web novel market, in this era, magazines with limited space were the focus.

In short, I am a special case who is out of those boundaries.

Well, not only did it come out so suddenly, but at the beginning of the serialization, even Mr. Miller was busy with his work to get a sense of serialization, so it was because he was shut up in a small village and did not engage in outside activities.

According to Richard Bentley Jr., the editor-in-chief and de facto manager in charge, there were quite a few invitations to the salon during that time.

not bullying? I just ignored it.

‘I only said something true, but the tone is strange?’

Anyway, I am not alone anymore.

Lewis Carroll, Mark Twain, and now Arthur Conan Doyle!

Is the lineup real? Only the world’s strongest people have been gathered. This is enough to spread your shoulders wherever you go.

“Next time you get a chance, join me too, Hansel.”

“Yeah, I’ll ask about that later when I get a chance.”

“Oh, okay. Then I’ll have to pick out something that will be a gift in advance.”

What would you like…

Mr. Miller begins to worry with his eyes shining. I smiled at my employer like that.

Well, Mr. Miller is an introvert who likes to date people by nature. Maybe even without me, he could have become close with Arthur Conan Doyle through a different route.

After a brief chat like that, the speed of the train slows down before long, and it’s wieee! Pwiyi! started emitting a loud whistle.

“Hmm, you’ve arrived.”

From noble mtl dot com

“Mr. Miller, please. Get off this way.”

I got off at the train station in Exeter, carrying Mr. Miller’s luggage and mine.

A small history built of gray bricks right in front of you.

It’s only been a few months, but the Torquay railway station… well, no. I thought I would go out for a few days, but Toki Station, which had been away for several months, felt friendly as if it had been away for several years.

In fact, this place is kkangchon.

It wouldn’t even be part of the Great Western Railway if it hadn’t been for a little port and a factory, and if the British weren’t serious about trains.

Oh, of course there is also the exquisite location connecting Plymouth and Exeter.

Anyway, even after a few months, time seemed to have stopped, and the endless sea, green forest, and prehistoric cave still welcomed Mr. Miller and me.

“As expected, there are many inconveniences compared to London, right?”

“hahahaha, but this place has a quiet taste as it does here, doesn’t it?”

I quickly ducked at Mr. Miller’s joke.

To be honest, my taste is a little more West End, but compared to the 21st century, there are a lot of uncomfortable things here and there because there are.

If so, the air is clear and the food is delicious. Raising children is even better.

Ah, this reminds me of the kids again.

Madge and Monty would be home by this time, and Mary was still sleeping snugly in her cradle… Um.

“Guys, you must be very angry, right?”

“You know, what do you ask?”

“Ugh…”

I trembled lightly and touched the gift packages in my bag.

Finally, finally, the time has come to show the true value of these things.

Unfortunately for Mr. Miller, I tend to have a bit of a back end. I still haven’t forgotten the grudge that provoked me then.

As promised! You have to keep the kids’ attention! And laughing at Mr. Miller!

Actually, even before I went to meet Lewis Carroll, I regretted not being able to play with the kids much.

As a result of my strong recommendation, Madge went to Godolphin School and Monty went to Eton College.

Not much to see at home.

Is that so? As they are affectionate children, every time we met on the weekend, we became more entangled…

And this business trip was the highlight.

I guess I’ve never been so far away.

Is that why? Lately, there have been letters saying that both of them seem to have reached puberty, but… it will still be fine.

If so, Mr. Miller could not have been so elated with me.

To Madge, ‘I don’t want to do laundry with Daddy!’ If I had heard the same sound, I’m sure you would have greeted me with a look of despair, not triumph.

‘And because I’m a professional.’

Capturing the hearts of children can be seen as a specialty among specialties.

I have a lot of cousins, so I played with them a lot, and even before I moved in, I became a parenting master (I’ve never raised a child) through Mr. Oh Yoon-Young’s You Tube and variety shows, so there are no blind spots.

The most important thing in this situation is empathy!

If you empathize with your child and match it, even British teenagers who have a hard time getting out of their way can play with you as much as you want…

“Kyaaa Mom, let’s play with bandages again!!”

“Kuhk, this is the darkness of London…!”

Uh… this is a little too much.

***

Looking back, the first was his royal wedding.

─Mom, when is Hansle coming?

─How many nights can you come to sleep?

From the age of 10, the children have been sticking with me more than their father, Mr. Miller, and Mrs. Clara Miller has also relied on me to take care of the children quite a bit.

Of course, there were times when I accompanied Mr. Miller on business trips and was away, but at that time I wasn’t as trusted by Mr. Miller.

So at most, once or twice a year? it was only about

In other words, I spent all my other time playing with the kids. It is not for nothing that I decided to write a book for my children.

If you ride a horse for several hours a day, you will probably know. At that time, the writing was for ‘survival’. really.

Anyway, is that so? At some point, children naturally began to read books.

It’s not unusual for children who like books in the first place.

As long as my hair is thick, I started reading not only <Peter Perry> but also my other books. It is said that Madge’s favorite was changed to <Vincent Villiers> before he knew it.

The problem is Monty’s favorite song…

“Hey, let go of this!! I also go to London to find Newton’s legacy and become a hero…!”

“What bullsh*t are you talking about!! Wake up!!”

What happened like that was this horror in front of my eyes.

The appearance of the younger brother who fell into second grade disease and the calm older sister who looked at the younger brother pathetically and stabbed him in the back of the head… I only spoke English, but there was no difference from what I saw in 21st century Korea.

“Hanseul!! What are you smiling so softly?! Come and dry him off!!”

“Ah, yes. All right.”

I rushed over and suppressed the seeds of the middle two that I had made.

***

Meanwhile.

“It’s been a while, Bernard.”

“Everyone is busy, but don’t talk white, Mr. Doyle.”

George Bernard Shaw.

He was a representative of the left wing of the London literary world, and he was also a relationship that he did not want to meet with Arthur Conan Doyle.

No matter how many mistakes he made, few writers would want to meet a critic who gave such harsh criticism to his work.

Even so.

“It is no different that I came to see you. Because of the Royal Society of Literature.”

“It’s the Royal Society of Literature. By the way, didn’t you sympathize with them?”

“It was a one-time delusion. It was an uncomfortable cohabitation that neither you nor I wanted, so now it’s practically a loss.”

“Hmm.”

Arthur Conan Doyle nodded bitterly.

Seeing him like that, George Bernard Shaw asked as if he didn’t know even more.

“Then what do you want?”

“However, their financial resources and the name of the Royal Society of Literature were quite a waste.”

A pearl necklace around a pig’s neck?

Arthur Conan Doyle said with a puzzled expression. George Bernard Shaw snorted at the sight.

“What if? What, do you mean to take it away?”

The former Scottish doctor only smiled silently.

The Irish-bred dog-speaker watched him for a moment, then clicked his tongue and muttered:

“It’s awful, it’s not even ugly.”

“How are you thinking?”

“Does anyone agree?”

“I intend to go on a business trip to Dartmoor for a while. Barry and Jerome are gathering friends for me. Like Bram,”

“Hmm.”

Bernard Shaw nodded.

Arthur Conan Doyle was a Scottish-born man who made a family out of populism.

Its popularity and achievements are already sufficient, so even if it had not made a fuss about writing a historical novel, it would have already formed a sufficient force.

Even now, he is trying to gather each other and gather writers to form a force. And what if that force were to confront the conservative Royal Society of Literature, centered on English nobility?

‘······This must be really fun.’

Seeing him even try to avoid the attention of the Royal Society of Literature by pretending he is not in London…

George Bernard Shaw, seeing through that he meant to fight quite seriously, nodded.

Even if it wasn’t so, the fight that hit the London financial world with Alfred Marshall not too long ago was incomplete because it fizzled out.

If the flame goes in the direction of burning down the Royal Society of Literature, along with Arthur Conan Doyle.

“Good. Let’s turn the London literary world upside down.”

“Please take care of me.”

Arthur Conan Doyle came to mind of a completely different person when he joined hands with a poisonous speaker from his grandfather’s hometown, three years older.

That witty young man from the far east.

Arthur Conan Doyle had a hunch.

He wasn’t just a writer with a talent for writing, but he had a charm that attracted people.

If he continues on the same upward trend as he is now, by the time he is around his age, he will be a giant in the British and American literary world.

However, the excessively unconventional attributes he possessed were highly likely to be targeted by ‘enemies’, including the Royal Society of Literature.

So now is the time to take the time. This is just the beginning for him.

‘Compared to the help you gave me, this level of effort is nothing.’

Arthur Conan Doyle thought so and lightly raised his glass.

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