The Shadow of Great Britain-Chapter 782 - 369: May’s Turmoil_2

Louis was standing behind him, holding documents and reporting London’s recent dire situation in a methodical manner.

"Now, the fervent sentiment among the people is steadily intensifying, and London seems to be becoming as insane as Paris. Our informants have reported to us that Blackfly and Rotanda are holding reform meetings almost every night. Based on their reports, our police forces have raided these meeting places and discovered a large stash of tricolor cockades stored there."

At this point, Louis couldn’t help swallowing his saliva.

As a purebred Frenchman, no one understood better than he did what the red, white, and blue represented.

The blue represents freedom, the white equality, the red fraternity, and when these three colors come together, they represent revolution.

Arthur removed his pipe, slowly blew a puff of smoke that hit the window glass, "How is the security deployment around His Grace’s residence?"

Louis flipped to the next page of the documents and replied, "We can almost be certain now that the assassination targeting the Duke himself is a real threat. Last weekend, a mob of protesters threw many stones at the Duke of Wellington’s residence in Apsley House, and one person fired a gun at the second floor, damaging a painting inside. It took one of the Duke’s servants climbing up to the roof with a blunderbuss to fire off a shot and scare away the mob."

"After this incident, we urgently dispatched personnel to ensure that behind every window of the Apsley House, there is at least one armed individual responsible for its protection. Worryingly, we have noticed that now, when the Duke rides past Whitehall, the crowds no longer tip their hats to him, but instead there are many angry roars and accusations."

"To ensure the safety of His Grace, we have notified his private secretary, hoping he could persuade the Duke of Wellington to postpone or outright cancel his attendance at the dinner party to be held this weekend at the London Mayor’s official residence. Given the nature of the Greater London Police Department’s duties, we cannot assign him personal bodyguards, as that would be overstepping our authority."

Arthur, upon hearing this, closed his eyes, raised his head, and rubbed his face violently. He took a deep breath and said, "As for personal security, I’ve already made early contact with the military. The Guard Cavalry Regiment says they are willing to serve in this respect. Six well-trained Guard cavalrymen have expressed their willingness to temporarily leave active duty to protect the Duke’s safety, and their chapel’s priest has also stated that in such times, he is willing to stand with God and the Duke. With these six cavalrymen and one combat priest to accompany him, plus the Duke’s servants, I believe most places should be safe as long as the old man doesn’t go into a battlefield."

Louis, hearing this, couldn’t help expressing his worries, "That is exactly what I’m currently concerned about. From what I understand, old soldiers like the Duke who’ve rolled off battlefields generally don’t care about life or death; they care more about things on a spiritual level. If we bluntly tell him where the dangers lie, he might just head straight for them."

"Spiritual things..."

Arthur turned and patted Louis on the shoulder, "Since you know where his Achilles’ heel is, why not make good use of it? Louis, the Duke not fearing death doesn’t mean he doesn’t fear the deaths of others. Have you forgotten? His Majesty the King might also attend the Mayor of London’s banquet this weekend."

At this, a lightbulb went off for Louis. He stood at attention and saluted, "Understood, Chief. I assure you, that banquet will be canceled."

He quickly gathered his documents and hurried to the door. However, just as he opened it, he found Disraeli standing outside.

Louis said in surprise, "Benjamin? What are you doing at Scotland Yard at this time? Shouldn’t the Tory Party be extremely busy?"

Disraeli arched an eyebrow and quirked his mouth, "Yes, the bigwigs are all scrambling like ants on a hot pan, but I am no bigwig. As for who the Prime Minister will be, I don’t even have the standing to interject at the table. All I know is, I support whoever the Earl of Lyndhurst supports."

He then added with self-deprecating humor, "But I’m not entirely useless. At least I can freely choose whether to vote with both hands or just one when I agree."

Louis shrugged helplessly, wrapping his arm around his back and ushering him into the office, "I’ve got more pressing matters to attend to, we can chat more about this over drinks some other time."

Disraeli straightened his collar, "The pleasure would be all mine, my dear Louis."

Bang.

Just as the office door closed, Disraeli turned his head to see Arthur already holding two glasses of wine in front of him.

Arthur offered him one, "Benjamin, I am truly grateful that you became a Member of Parliament. If not for you, I’d be completely in the dark about the current goings-on in British politics. The newspapers are full of nothing but fake news. Can anyone tell me if His Majesty the King has finally decided who will be the next Prime Minister?"

Disraeli lounged on a sofa, his leg crossed, his wineglass swaying in his hand, "Arthur, don’t talk nonsense. His Majesty has not yet decreed, and the next Prime Minister must go through a relatively democratic selection process."

Arthur, sitting on the sofa, asked, "How democratic?"