The Shadow of Great Britain
Chapter 291 - 291 191 Special Commendation 4K8_2

291: Chapter 191 Special Commendation (4K8)_2 291: Chapter 191 Special Commendation (4K8)_2 “Loyal to the country but not to the government?”

Arthur smiled, “It sounds somewhat reasonable, but the government probably wouldn’t like to hear that.

However, the fact that Mr.

Talleyrand held positions in five different governments shows his capability.

Perhaps, if I have the chance, I should have a talk with him.”

Victor joked, “As an inspector from the Greater London Police Department?”

“No, certainly not.

Mr.

Robespierre and Napoleon couldn’t catch that cunning old eel, Talleyrand; I, a small policeman from Scotland Yard, have no interest in arresting him.”

Arthur crushed a sugar cube, “I’m simply hoping to chat with him as an unfamiliar friend and a younger subordinate.”

Victor said, “If that’s really what you want, I can introduce you in a couple of days.

The London Conference will be going on for several days anyway, and there should be time afterwards.

But definitely not today.”

“Why not?”

“Because this morning Mr.

Talleyrand just had a quarrel with Mr.

Metternich, the Austrian Prime Minister.”

Arthur’s eyebrows raised; he was always interested in such topics.

As head of LPS, he didn’t always collect political news.

Arthur asked, “What were they fighting about?”

Victor suppressed a laugh, “Metternich said he wouldn’t tolerate the French ruling over Belgium, nor would he allow Talleyrand the cripple to ride on Austria’s head.

If those present here plan to sit back and watch Belgium become independent, then Napoleon’s episode will soon repeat itself on the European Continent.”

“And how did Mr.

Talleyrand respond?”

“Mr.

Talleyrand said: I have always admired Metternich; I think Prussian diplomats can’t predict even a week into the future, yet Metternich just manages to predict exactly a week ahead, but not a day more.

I thought that was a high compliment already, but Mr.

Metternich clearly wasn’t satisfied.

He must see himself as God and has started to spout nonsense.

Also, I’d like to remind Mr.

Metternich that playing the prophet in a country is at least a thankless task, if not a useless or dangerous one.”

No sooner had Victor finished speaking than Arthur heard a series of dull, scattered footsteps behind him.

They were a mix of gentlemen of varying heights and weights, dressed quite differently from each other, yet such a small group of people, when gathered together, could trigger an earthquake across Europe.

However, although Arthur didn’t know the content of today’s negotiations, from the people’s pace and facial expressions, he was able to deduce some of the results.

The representatives of Britain and France walked with a light step, while Prussia followed closely behind.

As for the attendants of Austria and Russia, they were all visibly worried and silent along the way.

Belgium and the Netherlands, as the parties concerned, were sandwiched between the two groups, with no place to voice their opinions.

The Duke of Wellington led the way out of the hall, closely followed by Viscount Palmerston, the newly appointed Whig Party Foreign Secretary, laughing and talking by his side.

The two men had been having a conversation, but when the Duke came down the steps and spotted Arthur on duty, the Wellington, who usually disliked displaying likes in public, unexpectedly used one hand to hold his cane and lifted the other hand to greet him: “Lovely weather today, Arthur.”

Upon hearing this, Arthur simply looked up at the gloomy sky; a breeze passed, and drizzling rain splattered against his cheeks.

Arthur shook his wet hair and smiled, nodding, “Indeed, I enjoy the rain just as much as you do.”

“Ha ha ha.” The Duke of Wellington didn’t mind the little interruption; his attendant hurriedly held up an umbrella for the Duke.

Taking advantage of the break, he didn’t forget to introduce the young man standing before him to Viscount Palmeston: “This gentleman here is…”

Viscount Palmeston laughed and replied, “Officer Arthur Hastings.

I just heard him play the piano at the Coburg Theatre last night.

Indeed, he plays as well as the rumors say.”

Upon hearing this, the Duke merely smiled and addressed Arthur, “You were quite busy last night, huh?

Managing to find time to play a piece amidst the work?”

Arthur, hearing this, replied with a smile, “If I could muster more men, perhaps I could accomplish even more.”

The Duke understood his meaning; he had already heard about the LPS from Sir Peel, but he had been too preoccupied with more important matters to pay much attention to the organization.

However, he had not expected that in today’s meeting, Britain would gain an unprecedented advantage through Arthur’s intelligence.

The Russians, initially adamant about military intervention, were unwilling to change their stance at the beginning of the meeting, and Austria, ignorant of the Polish uprising, was equally intransigent.

With these two supporters, Prussia’s backbone was naturally stiff as well.

All three countries spent the whole morning demanding military intervention in the Belgian independence issue.

However, facing the pressure from the three nations, the Duke of Wellington and Viscount Palmeston, who were already aware that the Russians were just putting on a brave face, showed an ambiguous attitude.

They neither agreed nor explicitly opposed, letting France and the three powers attack each other.

But as the negotiations continued, during the midday recess, the French ambassador, Talleyrand, took the initiative to seek out his old friend, the Duke of Wellington, and proposed a plan in which Prince Leopold, the widower of the British Princess Charlotte, would become King of Belgium.