At that ti, the priest’s brother was planning to travel to Britain, so he consulted Mr. Owen about so common sense of living in Britain. You know Mr. Owen is our great Arican writer, and his works are very well recognized in Britain, so the priest’s brother also hoped he could introduce so British celebrities to help broaden his horizons.
Mr. Owen is a very generous person, he readily agreed to the request and even offered to write a letter of recomndation. He then talked about the friends he made in Britain, great poets from the Lake Poets like William Wordsworth and Coleridge were all his friends. Moreover, Mr. Owen also ntioned that the reason he was able to return to Arica on ti this ti was all thanks to a gentleman nad Arthur Hastings.
Bismarck responded disapprovingly: "Maybe he’s not talking about the sa person; after all, there must be quite a few guys nad Arthur Hastings in Britain."
Motley asserted: "Impossible, it’s definitely the sa person. Because the Arthur Hastings Mr. Owen was talking about is a senior officer at Scotland Yard, and he’s also the author of the detective novel ’Hastings Case Files.’ Maybe many people in Britain have this na, but I think it’s unlikely for there to be two senior officers nad Arthur Hastings at Scotland Yard. Not to ntion Mr. Owen also said that the senior officer had been shot in Liverpool, and had eight stitches at the corner of his eye. I specially observed the Hastings School Director’s eye corner, and he indeed has a scar there, which matches all the evidence."
Bismarck couldn’t help scratching his head: "Is there really such a coincidence in the world? Oh well, so what does Mr. Owen think of this villain Hastings?"
Motley replied: "At least Mr. Owen hasn’t badmouthed him. You haven’t read Owen’s works and don’t understand his temperant, so you probably can’t grasp how rare it is for soone like Owen not to badmouth soone, let alone to offer slight praise."
Bismarck exclaid: "Damn it! He must have so leverage on him!"
Motley denied emphatically: "Impossible, Washington Irving is not soone to keep silent just because of leverage. Even for the mayor of New York City and the president, he would still curse them. Arica couldn’t find a braver person than him. Otto, don’t harbor prejudice just because he punched you; I’ve always thought you’re quite carefree."
"So what?" Bismarck insisted: "I’m also a brave person, as long as I find the right way, he can be coerced. John, you have no idea how vicious that guy is, and you even think the symbol of freedom, the Gestapo, is actually..."
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Bismarck hadn’t finished speaking when he heard the sound of knocking on the window glass.
He jerked his head around and saw an extrely familiar face outside the window, with a stitched wound at the corner of the eye, smiling maliciously.
Behind him, there were several pseudo-gentlen trailing behind, one was the nauseating Rheinland petit bourgeois liberal Heinrich Heine, one was a British Jew looking at Heine with disdainful side-eyes, and another was a silly French black guy.
Bismarck was startled and quickly swallowed his harsh words, instead tidying his crumpled coat from fighting, pretending to be a well-behaved student as he took off his hat and saluted: "Good afternoon, esteed sir."
Motley almost couldn’t hold back his laughter at the 180-degree change in his attitude, but quickly stood up as well: "Your Excellency, hello, I’m John Motley, sophomore in the law school."
Arthur leaned on the window looking at Motley for a couple of seconds, smiled, and said: "I just heard, you were talking about Mr. Washington Irving?"
Bismarck, upon hearing this, suddenly felt his vision darken, thinking that his scholarship this year was probably hopeless. This damn British cop must have arrived earlier, but he chose not to reveal himself, intent on catching him slip up.
Motley gave a peculiar glance at the beside him, stunned Bismarck, then politely responded in English: "Yes, Mr. Owen also brought back a few copies of ’British’ from Britain, I read your novel there."
Disraeli was rather disdainful of the boy because of his Arican accent, but upon hearing that the other party was actually a reader of ’British,’ he couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised: "Our magazine has already spread to Arica?"
Motley asked, puzzled: "You are?"
"Ahem..." Disraeli adjusted his tie, proudly introducing himself: "Author of ’Young Duke,’ and of course, the author of ’The Count of Monte Cristo’ is also here. As for that one over there, I probably don’t need to introduce, he’s been making appearances on campus these days, as a student of Gottingen, it’s hard for you not to recognize him."
"Indeed!" Heine retorted sarcastically: "Unlike so people, who rely entirely on brazen self-introductions to beco famous."
Seeing the two about to start bickering, Great Dumas hurriedly intervened between them: "That’s enough, even if you two want to fight, at least wait until the matter is resolved. Giuseppe and the others still have no place to stay."
"Place to stay?" Motley asked, puzzled: "What place to stay?"
Arthur cleared his throat: "Here’s the situation. The school is about to hold the all-European Electromagnetism Conference, but we found that Gottingen’s hotels seem insufficient for scholars and their assistants to stay. These days, to find accommodation for them, I’ve been racking my brains for solutions. In the end, we barely managed to piece together enough rooms for them.
However, even though there’s enough space for the scholars, my visiting friends have nowhere to stay. Although my friends don’t mind squeezing in with the scholars, I’m worried about disturbing their research work. Letting them stay in my rental house isn’t viable either, as there’s not enough space. So, I rembered that Otto has a small place at the old city wall..."
"Are you talking about that house?" Motley chuckled: "But that house is quite rundown. Previously, the school made him stay there entirely for punishnt, are you sure it’s alright for your friends to live in that place?"
"No problem, my friends are used to eating and sleeping outdoors, they don’t really care about the living conditions. Moreover, considering Otto is an excellent student, it’s not suitable for him to continue living in such a place. So Otto, you will move back to your original residence starting tomorrow, as I’m honored to announce the school’s end of punishnt asures against you."
Arthur expected Bismarck to agree to this news right away, but the boy unexpectedly protested: "Your Excellency, how can this be? I just got elected president, as a student leader, violating school rules without punishnt, how can I gain respect?"
Arthur saw through his little thoughts at once.
This kid was probably trying to appear well-behaved because he was caught bad-mouthing behind his back, so in order to preserve the scholarship and restore so reputation points, he’s even willing to actively seek punishnt.
But Arthur didn’t need his confession of guilt now, as arranging accommodation for Garibaldi and others was far more important than punishing Bismarck.
Having Bismarck move back to his original residence was to ensure those Young Italy mbers have an inconspicuous place to stay.
If Bismarck insists on staying there, leaving aside whether the boy would notice anything, just having him and Garibaldi under the sa roof would be incredibly amusing, these two couldn’t bear being in one pot.
Arthur said sternly: "Otto!"
"Here!"
Bismarck stood with his posture as straight as a newly enlisted Prussian private.
He thought that his good attitude, even if it couldn’t make Arthur calm down, would at least leave a favorable impression.
Unexpectedly, his posture amused everyone present.
Arthur, looking at his two-faced behavior, couldn’t help but pull out his pocket watch: "By four o’clock this afternoon, if you haven’t packed up and moved, then you’ll move directly to the confinent room."
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