Chapter 2214 - 251: As You Wish, Prime Minister

Melbourne slightly nodded at the word.

Arthur pointed to the copy of the Morning Paper on the table: "As for the protest from Hanover, I will inform the media that my speech does not represent the Government. I only represent the University of London and academic freedom. This, I believe, is something the Hanover Government should be able to understand."

Melbourne lifted his head, a genuine hint of relaxation flashing in his eyes, quickly overshadowed by other emotions.

Arthur paused, lowering his voice slightly: "But I won’t let the professors feel silenced by the Government. These people have just escaped from the constitutional ruins of Hanover, and they need a place to stand firm, and I... cannot pull away this support at this moment."

This made Melbourne silent for several seconds: "Even if the Whig Party is willing to support the new Police Bill?"

Arthur chuckled softly at Melbourne’s words.

He did not believe Melbourne’s promise, after all, as Viscount Melbourne previously as Home Secretary, he didn’t show much favor towards Scotland Yard and even caused the Cold Bath incident.

Moreover, the drafter of this Police Bill Draft knew better than anyone how absurd that draft was.

Not to mention trying to gain Whig support; even in the eyes of the Conservative Party, that draft was quite politically incorrect.

Peel recently had specially summoned him to the Carlton Club, asking if he was serious about writing it like that.

Besides, he had just reversed his image of authoritarianism in the public opinion world thanks to the Seven Gentlemen of Gottingen, there was no reason to push the seven professors into the Thames now.

Such a move would have serious consequences.

Fleet Street might not handle it well and could publish several issues tomorrow titled something like "Mr. Hastings’ Courage Lasted Only Twenty-Four Hours".

Thus, Arthur could not sacrifice the seven professors for a bill he didn’t even believe could pass.

Because this wasn’t a political deal at all, but self-destruction.

Arthur spoke up: "Your Excellency, although many people don’t understand the contents of the new Police Bill, its original intention is for Britain to take a step closer to a truly civilized society. And the existence of the Seven Gentlemen of Gottingen has made London thoroughly believe that we are closer to the goal of a civilized society. So, I don’t understand why you are placing the Police Bill and expelling the seven professors on opposite sides. Clearly, sheltering the seven professors can give a chance to pull one’s reputation out of a deep well and allow Britain to show itself again among European Liberals. You want me to sacrifice them... then I don’t know who you want to save."

"Who do I want to save?" Melbourne lifted his eyes: "The only thing I want to save is the Government."

Arthur laughed: "Then it’s even more imperative not to do so. Isn’t it strange for a Liberal Government to care about the opinions of authoritarian countries? There are many ways to destroy the seven professors, but none can rescue the Government from the dissenting waves as sheltering them can."

Here, his tone finally slowed: "I pledge I will do my best to mollify Hanover’s anger for you and stabilize London’s passion for you. My remarks do not represent the Cabinet; I will personally clarify this to the media. But the professors must stay, at least for now."

Viscount Melbourne maintained his original posture without immediately answering.

His weary eyes stared at Arthur for a few seconds, as if trying to find a hint of doubt or even the slightest concession on the other’s face.

Unfortunately, with the backing of the Queen, public opinion support, and the threat of a potential no-confidence motion by the Radical Liberal Party, it was very difficult for Viscount Melbourne to overpower him on every front.

Melbourne finally slowly held onto the armrest of his chair and sat up.

"Alright." He said in a low voice.

It was not anger, not defeat, but a sense of resignation.

He crumpled up the protest letter from the Kingdom of Hanover and casually tossed it into the wastebasket.

Seeing this, Arthur seized the opportunity to ask: "Do you have any other instructions, Your Excellency?"

Melbourne was silent for a moment, as if hesitating whether now was the right time?

But in the end, he still reached for the drawer, which was neatly organized, with only one document in a dark green cover at the bottom.

Melbourne pulled out the document, picked up a quill, and signed his name on the last page.

After signing, he did not place the pen back in the ink bottle, nor did he seal it with the Prime Minister’s office wax seal as usual.

He just casually folded the document and tossed it in Arthur’s direction: "This is the appointment of Earl of Dalmo as Governor of British North America and Senior Commissioner of North America, take it to him."

Holding the appointment letter, Arthur slightly bowed and asked: "Is there anything else you need to instruct?"

Melbourne leaned back in his chair, squinting and enjoying his dwindling moments of leisure, as if letting an invisible breeze take him away: "Take it to him personally. Let him know that it’s something you earned for Britain, and not something I forcibly handed to him."

Arthur gently closed the dark green cover of the appointment letter, got up, bowed, and left.

However, before he could leave the room, Melbourne’s weary, slightly dismissive voice came from behind: "One last request."

"Your Excellency?" Arthur turned back.

Melbourne lay nestled in the recliner, pulling the blanket up, seemingly too lazy to fully raise his gaze, moving only his lips.

"Close the door for me, I want to nap."

Arthur paused for a moment, then smiled and closed the door: "As you wish, Your Excellency."