The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 151 - 151 108 London Police Office Order Number 1_2

151: Chapter 108 London Police Office Order Number 1_2 151: Chapter 108 London Police Office Order Number 1_2 As he spoke, he picked up a soup spoon and scooped meat from the bowl, suddenly, Great Dumas furrowed his brows, “Why does the portion seem off?

Arthur, do we have mice at home?”

Arthur glanced at the Red Devil sitting contentedly on the windowsill, burping, and the book cover illustrated with ravens that he held in his hands, and simply shook his head slightly.

He picked up his fork and put the portion of swan meat that belonged to him into his mouth, tasting its flavor while frowning, “Doesn’t this taste just like regular goose?”

At this point, Arthur couldn’t help but change the subject, “Alexander, speaking of which, have you finished your manuscript?”

Great Dumas replied leisurely, “Didn’t I go out to play with Eld today?”

“And what about yesterday?”

“Yesterday?

Yesterday was even more interesting.”

Great Dumas began cheerfully, “After I finished lunch yesterday, I went to Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park to digest and, incidentally, look for some inspiration.

I ended up meeting a very interesting guy whose speech attracted a lot of listeners.

Even many street vendors couldn’t help but stop their work and stand outside the fence to listen to him speak.

You could tell just by the expressions on their faces that they weren’t paid to be there.”

Arthur immediately felt something was amiss upon hearing this.

He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, “Is that so?

What was he talking about?”

“Nothing much really, merely inciting the workers to actively fight for their rights, persuading factory owners to reduce working hours.

Oh yes, he also advocated for the establishment of preschool education, urging school-age children to enter schools to study and such.”

Arthur took a sip of tea and said, “I think I know who you’re talking about.

That speaker, it’s Mr.

Robert Owen, right?

Since he returned to Britain last year, he has been roaming around engaging in various political activities, leading workers’ movements.”

Great Dumas blurted out, “You know him?

Oh, but of course, I almost forgot, you are a policeman from Scotland Yard.

It would be strange if you didn’t know him.

If it were France, Mr.

Owen would probably have been invited to the Paris Police Office for a chat by now.

Damn!

Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned this to you.

Now that you know he’s giving speeches in Hyde Park, you’ll probably go chase him away tomorrow, won’t you?”

“Chase him away?

That won’t be necessary,” Arthur said while holding his cup of tea, “Although I’ve always thought Britain is a cesspit, the advantage of a cesspit is that you can throw anything into it.

Otherwise, how could you, a grand Republican, live in a constitutional monarchy like Britain?

Perhaps Mr.

Owen’s ideas are somewhat unconventional to the authorities, but as long as they do not pose enough danger, he can stay here.”

As I said before, the King has almost become a mascot, so the old way of arresting people based on personal dislikes no longer works.

Not to mention, there are also a small portion of Parliament members who support some of Mr.

Owen’s views.

Apart from not agreeing with his rhetoric about public ownership of property, there are supporters for reducing working hours and establishing minors’ education.”

Upon hearing this, Eld also voiced his disdain, “Why should property be owned publicly?

My money was earned day by day on the ship!

I don’t want to share my hard-earned results with those idle Irish drunkards.”

Arthur then asked, “What if it involved public ownership of you and your uncle’s property?”

“With my uncle?” Eld’s eyes lit up, he slapped the table, “Why didn’t I think of that before!

So, public ownership can be selective?”

Upon hearing this, Darwin shrugged his shoulders helplessly, “Eld, that’s not public ownership, that’s highway robbery.

And it’s robbery where you neither want to use a knife nor want to rob your uncle’s money.”

“Ha!” Eld rolled his eyes, “After all this fuss, Robert Owen just wants to take my hard-earned money to support those crude Irishmen.”

Upon hearing this, Great Dumas couldn’t help but ask Arthur with interest, “I originally thought you weren’t interested in this issue.

Unexpectedly, you’re quite knowledgeable.”

Arthur leaned back in his chair and stretched, “It’s just work-related.

After all, if you don’t understand your potential work targets, what else is a detective for?

Anyone can grab a pair of handcuffs and arrest people.”

Seeing him start to joke again, Great Dumas pressed further without giving him room to evade, “So, what’s your view on the communal ownership of property?”

Arthur just smiled, “I’m a Scotland Yard officer, I don’t have personal political views.”

“Is that so?” Great Dumas was somewhat disappointed, “I thought you were different from other officers.

But I suppose not.

How could I harbor such an illusion that there are good people among the police?”

At this, Arthur sipped his tea and said, “However, I could relay some opinions from others, such as the famous saying by John Locke.”

“Oh?

What does he say?”

Arthur smiled as he set down his teacup, “Property should not be communal, and power should not be private.

Although I think Mr.

Locke might be a bit too absolute here, if you consider the reverse—for property to be communal would lead to private power—then it’s quite a novel understanding.”

Mr.

Owen’s ideals are certainly beautiful, but after operating communal farms in America for several years, everyone saw what they finally turned into.

Perhaps the beautiful new world he talks about could one day become a reality, but pessimistically, I’m certain I won’t see that day.”

So, instead of his grand slogans, I’d rather focus on a few practical proposals he has put forward, like reducing working hours and setting up vocational schools for the youth.

If these could be implemented, I believe the juvenile crime rate in London might be greatly reduced.”

Hearing this, Red Devil chuckled and rubbed his hands as he approached, “Oh!

My dear Arthur, how can you not see that day?

Heaven would appear right before your eyes if only you wish it.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur merely sipped his tea, “Those who promise Heaven to mankind often bring Hell to the Mortal World.

I hold no illusions about Heaven, because I know the world I live in.”

Great Dumas thoughtfully asked, “Are you interested in going to hear Mr.

Owen speak tomorrow?”

Arthur smiled and pulled a Home Office document from the bag hanging behind him.

“Actually, even if you didn’t invite me, I would still go.

This is going to be a major focus of my work for a while.”

Great Dumas’s brows twitched as he glimpsed the word ‘CONFIDENTIAL’ on that document.

“You are going to surveil Mr.

Owen?

Don’t you British always talk about freedom?

Is this British freedom?”

Arthur wrote a few lines on the document then glanced at him.

He smiled and rested his hands on the table, fingers interlocked and propping up his chin, “What do you think, Alexander?

Freedom isn’t about doing whatever you want; it’s about being able to not do what you don’t want.

Besides, having me surveil Mr.

Owen is certainly better than handing it over to the Army’s military police, right?”