The Shadow of Great Britain

316: Chapter 202: Human-like Constellations Shine (5K)_3 316: Chapter 202: Human-like Constellations Shine (5K)_3 For a new High Chancellor, every vacancy was a precious opportunity.

After all, not every High Chancellor could serve for 26 years like Earl Eldon.

If a High Chancellor had a short tenure and happened to coincide with a period during which no one retired, it was very likely that he could not install many of his own people from the start to the end of his term.

And at this thought, another possibility sprang into Arthur’s mind.

Everyone knew that although the Tory Party and the Whig Party were nominally two unified political parties, there were still countless small factions within each party.

For instance, within the Tory Party there were the liberal faction represented by Sir Peel, the hardliner faction represented by Earl Eldon, the disheveled Hesketh faction hit by a train, and the once prominent Canning faction.

The reason Duke Wellington had previously been as stable as a rock within the Tory Party, aside from his high prestige, was because he had also been the representative of the Tory hardliner faction.

But once he leaped to the position of Prime Minister, the crafty old Duke started steering sharply to the left, and in doing so, he managed to garner the support of the liberal faction of the Tory Party represented by Sir Peel.

Of course, because of the “Catholic Emancipation Act,” Duke Wellington had turned the steering wheel too sharply and ended up knocking down his own hardliner base’s walls, which forced him to step down and apologize.

But now, although Duke Wellington had stepped down, the liberal and hardliner factions within the Tory Party were still engaged in a celestial battle, with many dissatisfied with the decision for Sir Peel to take over as the party leader.

From the perspective of the hardliners, the arrest of Bernie Harrison was not only a way to disgust the ruling Whig Party but also to vex Sir Peel’s Scotland Yard.

Thinking about it that way, they seemed to indeed have sufficient reason, motive, and power to carry out this plan.

As Arthur thought this through, although the logic seemed to flow, he couldn’t help feeling that the means seemed rather crude.

Just to disgust others, they would resort to such vile methods, even involving a human life; where had the hardliners’ self-proclaimed noble spirit, distinct from the lower classes, gone?

Arthur pondered back and forth, feeling that there was something off-putting about the whole affair.

While he was deep in thought, Disraeli suddenly spoke up: “Earl Eldon?

It’s been a long time since I’ve heard that name.

That old man has had a rough few years!

Ever since stepping down, he’s regularly been dragged out by the media for criticism and ridicule.

Not long ago, he was even planning to find a newspaper to publish an article defending himself, but not a single one on Fleet Street was willing to take it.”

Hearing this, Arthur asked, “Is that so?

How did you come to know about it?”

Disraeli replied, “Of course, because he also came to ‘The British.’ He was willing to pay fifty pounds, but I refused.”

Arthur, hearing this, simply raised an eyebrow and said, “Fifty pounds?

That’s not a small amount!

I wouldn’t have expected you to be so concerned about your reputation.”

Disraeli, with a smug expression, said, “Of course, I plan to continue running for parliament.

Although Earl Eldon still has some influence in the political sphere, the old man is really getting on in years, and his mind is becoming increasingly muddled.

If he found someone eloquent to advocate for him, maybe, seeing fifty pounds, I might help him out.

But he must have drunk too much of the Thames water and actually sent that idiot George Norton over—back when I was studying at Lincoln’s Inn, we didn’t get along.

Had I not had to maintain the dignity of a gentleman, I might have given him a couple of good whacks on the spot.”

“George Norton?” Arthur’s expression turned strange at the mention of the man who had landed the magistrate’s position at Westminster by selling out his wife.

“You were classmates with him?”

Disraeli exhaled sharply through his nose: “Hmph, not just classmates, we might even be considered enemies.

How about that, Arthur, are you surprised?

But tell me, how do you know his name?”

Arthur chuckled: “The magistrate of Westminster—I’d have a hard time not knowing him, with so many cases from Scotland Yard going through him for judgment.”

“Oh!

Right, right, right!

You just reminded me!

That stuff infuriates me!”

Disraeli began, “That day he just kept going on about his magistrate position to show off.

Seeing his arrogance, I taunted him about losing his position as a representative.

Would you believe that dimwit brazenly told me: although he lost, he’s still a very popular candidate, and the voters all hate his competitors.

On the day of the vote, he said he saw many voters casting their votes against him with tears in their eyes.

Just imagine, what kind of madness must he have to say something like that?”

Arthur also fell silent upon hearing this, then lit a cigar: “Casting votes against him in tears, hmm…

I must admit, Mr.

Norton has quite the imagination.

Perhaps he should have been a novelist, though his wife already is.”

Disraeli snorted: “That’s the thing about Norton, he’s been like that since our time at the Inns of Court!

Optimistic, gullible, and vain to boot.

To sum it up, he’s all about face but lacks brains.

He really seems to think the whole world revolves around him and that everyone owes him something.

If not for the sake of Earl Eldon, I would have chased him out of the editorial office with a broom long ago.”

At this, an idea suddenly struck Arthur.

“Mr.

George Norton…

Perhaps I should meet him, or maybe I could first make contact with Mrs.

Norton.”

Arthur took out his pocket watch to check the time: “At this hour, she’s probably at the Home Office, right?”