Victoria slightly opened her mouth; even though she was just a girl who rarely left Kensington Palace, she could still perceive how ludicrous this situation actually was.
She asked, "Isn’t there anyone to stop it?"
"Of course there are people trying to stop it."
Arthur calmly supplented: "The wife of the Westminster Palace’s gatekeeper slled a strong burning odor. She called her husband, who broke through the door locked by Wilbury and saw the flas along with the burning curtains and furniture. But unfortunately, once the door was opened, fresh air rushed in, further fuelling the fire. As a result, the gatekeeper couple fled, and the fire beca completely uncontrollable. Half an hour later, even Windsor Castle could see the rising flas of Westminster Palace. Scotland Yard also worked hard to mobilize manpower, with the fire brigade from the nearby precinct being the first to arrive at the scene promptly. Regrettably, the officers from Scotland Yard found that in front of the vast Westminster Palace, there were only two manual pumps. And when the London Fire Departnt connected the water hoses to the Thas River, they discovered that the Thas River was in its low-water period this October."
At this point, Arthur cast his eyes out towards the window at the "spectacle": "So, as you can see, the House of Lords was completely destroyed, the Saint Stephen’s Church where the Lower House was located was also burned down, and the Speaker’s Mansion likewise did not escape. However, fortunately, Westminster Cathedral was spared, but I must honestly say, there was sowhat an elent of luck because last night’s wind direction didn’t blow towards it."
Upon hearing this, Victoria couldn’t help but exclaim softly, "It seems even God couldn’t bear to watch."
Arthur smiled at the words: "The mbers of Parliant indeed should thank God."
"Shouldn’t the Westminster Bishop thank God instead?" Victoria asked, "The place where the mbers et got burned down."
Arthur gently shook his head, saying, "Burned down places can be rebuilt, maybe they had long wanted a new place to et. Besides, if you ask , what part of this disaster rits being written into a script, it’s neither the fire starting nor the fire extinguishing, but the years of Parliant repeatedly rejecting the fire budget."
As Arthur spoke these words, he tapped the wall of the carriage with his cane and pointed to an old man mourning amidst the ruins of Westminster Palace, asking: "Do you know that old gentleman?"
"Who is he?"
"Mr. William Manby of the Royal Society."
Arthur slightly exaggeratingly spread his hands: "A visionary inventor, a glorious retired army lieutenant. But unlike ordinary soldiers, Mr. Manby doesn’t favor killing on the battlefield; instead, he prefers saving lives. Thirty years ago, he was stationed at the seaside Great Yarmouth Barracks, where he could see warships and rchant ships passing by on the sea every day. You know, the weather at sea can sotis be very harsh, and once caught in extre weather like a tempest, it is usually very difficult for the crew to escape."
Thus, the benevolent Mr. Manby designed a mariti rescue device, which uses a mortar to fire a projectile carrying a rope from the shore to the ship and relies on this sturdy rope to pull the stranded ship ashore. Later, he also designed trouser-shaped rescue devices and lifeboats. You may have heard of the Royal Lifeboat Institution, an organization Mr. Manby spearheaded its founding."
Victoria nodded in bewildernt: "It sounds like Mr. Manby is certainly a gentleman worthy of praise, but what does he have to do with the fire?"
Arthur replied with a smile: "Rember the portable fire extinguisher I introduced in this morning’s Natural Philosophy class?"
"You an the 4-gallon copper canister you brought? It’s filled with... I rember, 3 gallons of Pearl Ash solution and compressed air."
"That’s right, that extinguisher was also invented by Mr. Manby." Arthur recounted the circumstances slowly: "For the past 14 years, Mr. Manby has co to Parliant almost annually to petition, urging mbers to build large water storage facilities to address the issue of fire water sources, and to establish a preventive firefighting police organization. But not even a single mber has paid attention to this shouting old gentleman, whether it’s the mbers or the London Mayor, as soon as any ntion of money arises, they pretend to be deaf. They always thought Mr. Manby was simply a hawker selling extinguishers and firefighting patrol cars."
Upon this, Victoria couldn’t help feeling sowhat indignant: "Books always say that Parliant is the place in this country most capable of accommodating the future, but it can’t even accommodate a few barrels of water. This is clearly a matter of life and death!"
"Precisely because of this..." Arthur nodded lightly: "I thus venture to suggest, Your Highness might consider making slight adjustnts to the speech for the upcoming commorative event."
As he spoke, he took out Victoria’s howork from a leather bag he carried with him. This speech debut, which Victoria spent two hours completing, was already covered with nurous modification notes.
Victoria took the manuscript and carefully flipped open the cover page.
If it were just Arthur’s revisions, perhaps Victoria wouldn’t be so nervous, but Arthur had told her earlier that to make this speech perfect, it wasn’t only him; even Britain’s most outstanding young poet, Alfred Tennyson, would also rigorously scrutinize it as he treats the manuscript of "The British."
Victoria saw that at the beginning of the manuscript, written in striking red ink — "This is not rely an elegy for Officer Robert Cali, but also a wish for all officers who have always dutifully served during the Westminster fire, the Cold Bath incident, and all perilous monts."
"Did you write this?"
Arthur noticed Victoria’s slightly raised eyebrows and smiled, shaking his head in denial: "It’s written by Tennyson."
Victoria continued reading: "When many are loudly debating the nation’s future, so silently guard the present in the flas. Officer Robert Cali, not one to shout slogans in the conference hall, but one who stays on the street, in the smoke, in every mont he could have turned away."
"This line is my embellishnt." Arthur reached to flatten the corner of the manuscript for Victoria: "Based on your original phrasing."
Victoria stared at the line, hesitated before asking: "Arthur, these words... are they too intense?"
She clearly thought of her mother’s teachings; the Duchess of Kent, although holding a Whig position, always hoped her daughter wouldn’t express too many contentious remarks.
Even if the Duchess of Kent is dissatisfied with the Tory Party, she doesn’t think this attitude should be expressed by Victoria. Conversely, similarly with the Whig Party.
However, Arthur saw it differently. He smiled gently: "Your Highness, you must understand, words in this world co in two kinds. One sort, spoken for the ears to hear. The other, written into the heart. If you wish for the officers at Scotland Yard to rember this speech thirty years from now, it must not rely be proper, but must carry weight."
He paused and pointed out a passage towards the end of the manuscript: "You wrote ’May he rest in peace’ in your conclusion, but I suggest replacing it with ’May his na not be forgotten.’ This isn’t said for him alone, but for all those who see you as the future. Those who may not have titles or voting rights but stand in every crisis ahead of us. All of us, all in Scotland Yard, consider you as the Queen."
Victoria stared at Arthur, suddenly thinking of her mother and Conroy.
After a while, the young girl in her adolescence nodded slightly: "I will change it."
User Comments
0 comments from readers