"Stop thinking about that damn bill and let's discuss ritual magic." Old Neil said this with a relaxed expression as he packed away the candles, the cauldron, the silver knife, and the other items.
Klein really wanted to imitate the Americans from his previous life and shrug his shoulders, but ultimately decided against that ungentlemanly gesture.
He turned his attention back to the ritual magic itself, firing off the detailed questions that had been puzzling him and receiving sufficiently definitive answers. For example, the incantations used had a specific format; as long as that was satisfied and the key meaning was clearly expressed in Hermes language, the rest could be improvised freely. Of course, blasphemous or disrespectful descriptions were absolutely forbidden.
This "Mysticism Lesson" lasted until noon. Old Neil cleared his throat lightly and said:
"We need to head back to Zouteland Street now."
Having said this, he added a grumbled, muddled complaint:
"I missed a lovely breakfast because I had to go collect those damn materials."
Klein looked left and right with amusement and confusion, then said:
"Mr. Neil, don't you have a cook at home? Or a maid responsible for cooking?"
A weekly wage of twelve pounds was more than enough to afford several servants!
According to the newspapers, with room and board provided, hiring a regular cook only required a weekly wage of twelve to fifteen soli—less than a pound. A general maid was even cheaper, costing only three soli and six pence to six soli per week, though of course, you couldn't expect much culinary skill from them.
Uh, no, that's not right either. Given Mr. Neil's situation where he still owed thirty pounds in debt, not hiring a cook and servants was the normal thing to do...
I seem to have asked another inappropriate question...
While Klein was feeling regretful, Old Neil shook his head without any offense:
"I often experiment with ritual magic at home, research extraordinary items and the corresponding literature. I wouldn't and couldn't hire ordinary people as cooks, butlers, or maids. I just arrange for someone to come and clean regularly. And if they aren't ordinary people, do you think they'd be willing to do work like that?"
"I seem to have asked a stupid question. Perhaps it's because I don't do anything involving the mystical at home," Klein explained with self-deprecation.
Old Neil had already stood up, donned his round-brimmed felt hat, and was muttering as he headed for the door:
"I seem to smell the scent of pan-fried goose liver... Once that damn bill is settled, I'm definitely going to have a good serving! I'll certainly be able to eat a whole piece of roast pork with apple sauce for lunch. No, that's not enough. I must also have a sausage with mashed potatoes..."
You're making me hungry, too... Klein swallowed his saliva and quickened his pace to follow Old Neil, heading for the nearby public carriage stop.
Back on Zouteland Street, just as Old Neil stepped down from the carriage, he suddenly went, "Hmm?"
"What did I just see? Goddess, what did I see?"
He suddenly moved with the nimbleness of a seventeen or eighteen-year-old lad, swiftly approaching the roadside and picking up an object.
Klein walked over in confusion, looked carefully, and discovered it was a finely crafted leather wallet.
With his current eye for quality and experience, it was difficult to discern whether this dark brown billfold was made of cowhide or sheepskin. He only noticed that a small, light blue crest was embroidered upon it, and above the crest was a white dove with its wings spread, as if about to take flight.
This was Klein's first impression, but from the second glance onward, his gaze was fixed on the bills bulging within the wallet.
They were gold pounds with a grey background and black pattern—there were at least twenty of them face up!
Old Neil opened the wallet, took out those bills, and took a careful look before giving a low chuckle:
"Ten-pound notes, the respected 'Founding Father,' 'Protector,' King William I. Oh Goddess, a full thirty of them! And there are several five-pound, one-pound, and five-soli notes."
Over three hundred pounds? That was a genuinely enormous sum! I probably couldn't save that much in ten years... Klein's breathing involuntarily grew heavier.
Because gold pounds held such high value, finding a wallet like this was the equivalent of finding a briefcase full of cash in later times.
"I wonder which gentleman dropped it... It certainly can't be an ordinary person," Klein analyzed calmly.
Such a wallet clearly did not belong to a lady.
"It doesn't matter who he is," Old Neil said with a soft laugh. "We have no intention of keeping money that doesn't belong to us. Let's wait here a moment. I think that gentleman will soon come back looking for it. For anyone, this would not be something easily abandoned."
Klein inwardly felt relieved, gaining a completely new understanding of Old Neil's moral character.
He had been quite worried that the other would use the excuse of "gift from the Goddess" to pay off bills with this money, and had been struggling to figure out how to stop him, how to persuade him.
This was "do as you will, but harm none"? Klein suddenly gained a small measure of understanding.
The two waited by the street for less than a minute before they saw a luxurious four-horse carriage approach rapidly. On its side was a light-blue crest featuring a white dove with its wings spread.
The carriage stopped, and a middle-aged man in a formal black suit and matching bow tie stepped out. Looking toward the wallet, he removed his hat and bowed.
"Gentlemen, this should be my master's wallet."
"Your crest proves everything, but I still need to verify once more. It's a responsibility to everyone. May I ask how much money is inside the wallet?" Old Neil responded politely.
The middle-aged man was momentarily stunned, then laughed self-deprecatingly.
"As a butler, I shouldn't know precisely how much money remains in my master's wallet. My apologies. Please allow me to go ask."