Chapter 644 Sir Hastings, the Respected

It is extremely cold, and the cold air has severely blocked the main road, freezing it into a smooth piece. Now it is knocking on the doors and windows of ordinary people's houses in Moscow. Darkness has fallen, and the streets have become empty and silent.

A full moon looked down from behind the high clouds. Its light was gentle and brisk, illuminating the streets and lanes as brightly as day.

A pony galloped down the street, swiftly pulling a sleigh, on which sat a provincial nobleman on his way to a party. The sound of the horse's hoofs could be heard far and wide.

On a day of family joy like Maslenitsa, the windows of most houses in Moscow are lit with lights. The lights are dim at first, and then slowly expand, emitting colorful brilliance.

Through the windows of the Noble Club, you can hear the conversations of the nobles sitting around the carpeted fire with wine glasses in hand.

"Have you heard? We have a great event in Moscow."

"What's new? Are you saying that the Emperor is planning to hold this year's Maslenitsa dance in the Kremlin?"

"If that's the case, the Emperor has made a good decision. It would be most authentic if we let the Westernized bureaucrats in Petersburg have a good look at our dance in Moscow this year."

"Boy, I'm not talking about something vulgar like a dance, but something more noble and sacred."

"Are you talking about the morning prayer on Easter Eve after the end of Lent? Are the rituals in which the priest loudly chants: 'Jesus is risen!', and we then shout back: 'He is really risen!'"

"No! Haven't you heard? Sir Arthur Hastings has come to our Moscow!"

As soon as these words were spoken, the room suddenly fell silent, and all conversation seemed to have stopped abruptly, leaving only the occasional crackle of the fire and the faint sound of the sleigh gliding across the ice in the distance outside the window.

"Sir Arthur Hastings!"

Although the nobleman in question did not know who Sir Arthur Hastings was, his strange pride in not wanting to admit his ignorance drove him to echo the exclamation of his companions: "That's a big shot!"

The expressions of the nobles quickly changed from the initial blankness to a pretentious solemnity, as if each of them had a deep understanding and admiration for Sir Arthur Hastings.

A richly dressed nobleman with a young face broke the silence first. He said in a tone as if he had already known Arthur well: "Oh! I have been his loyal fan since a few years ago, and he dreamed of me last night. I met him. Unexpectedly, my dream came true. This is truly a blessing from God!”

Another noble also joined in the compliment, with a hint of eagerness in his voice, as if he was afraid of being upstaged: "Sir Arthur has arrived in Moscow? My God! Why didn't you announce this news until now? ? If I had known he was coming, I wouldn’t have arranged to go hunting in the countryside tomorrow!”

As he was talking, he saw this cultural man who respected Sir Arthur Hastings walking away quickly, standing in front of the club and solemnly giving instructions to the coachman outside: "Platon! Platon! Go to Prince Golitsyn's house now and inform them that tomorrow's hunt is cancelled, because I am going to see Sir Arthur Hastings."

The nobles nodded in agreement, although most of them knew only a few words about Sir Arthur Hastings they had just heard, and some even heard of the surname Hastings for the first time. But at this moment, all difficulties do not prevent them from becoming Sir Arthur's ten-year-old fans.

Under such circumstances, any disrespectful words towards Arthur Hastings will become the target of public criticism, and any words that disparage him will be regarded as blasphemy against culture.

Even at Scotland Yard, the name Arthur Hastings did not enjoy the treatment in the aristocratic club it enjoys today.

After all, in the Metropolitan Police, since Sir Arthur himself was 'exiled' to Petersburg, he was at best a harmless icon there. In today's Moscow Noble Club, Arthur has simply become a living saint among everyone.

While everyone was discussing Arthur Hastings enthusiastically, a member of the Moscow Society of Natural Philosophy finally dug out this night's high-frequency word from the pile of old papers deep in his memory.

He showed off proudly: "Arthur Hastings? Oh, you are talking about Mr. Michael Faraday's assistant? A rising star in the field of electromagnetism?"

He thought he could win everyone's attention with his extensive experience, but he didn't expect that he would attract criticism and ridicule.

"Assistant? Rising star? What are you talking about?"

"Don't you understand the principle that one is better than another? I don't mean to belittle Mr. Faraday, but I think that even if Sir Arthur Hastings is not as good as Faraday now, he will soon be better than Faraday." A better electromagnetic researcher.”

"It seems that there are some knowledgeable people among us." An old nobleman with a thick beard and elegant velvet robes spoke slowly, with an undoubted sense of authority in his voice: "Arthur. Sir Hastings is not only a bright star in the field of electromagnetics, but also a bridge connecting Russian and European science and culture. His arrival will undoubtedly bring an unprecedented storm of ideas to Moscow."

The words of the old nobleman were like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, causing ripples.

"If I am lucky enough to witness one of Sir Arthur's experiments, it will be the greatest honor of my life." A young nobleman said excitedly, his eyes flashing with desire and awe for the unknown world.

Another nobleman suggested: "Yes, such an opportunity is rare. We must arrange a grand welcome dinner as soon as possible, just like the one for Mr. Humboldt, and invite all the city's prominent figures to let Sir Arthur feel the enthusiasm and respect of Moscow."

At this time, the young noble who first brought up the topic said: "You don't need to worry about the welcome dinner. Because our dear Moscow Governor Dmitry Golitsyn and the learned Moscow University Dean Sergei Golitsyn are already planning it!"

Just as the nobles toasted and cheered for the foresight of the governor and the dean, they did not notice a four-wheeled carriage passing by the window.

And the owner of this carriage was the European scholar who had come from London, who they longed for.

Arthur loosened his elastic collar, held a pipe in his mouth, and even threw his top hat on the seat beside him.

If someone saw this guy at this time, they would probably think he was a second-rate guy from the East End of London, and the truth was almost the same.

With a cane in his left hand and a police knife in his right hand, a top hat that was knocked off by a gangster was floating in the sewage puddle under his feet, and a blue swallowtail uniform stained with the vomit of an Irish drunk, this is the daily appearance of Greenwich Patrol Sergeant Arthur Hastings.

However, although he is still the same person now, his identity is different.

So the cane was replaced by a cane inlaid with turquoise, the police knife was replaced by an oak pipe, the police number on his chest was replaced by a ribbon ring, and even the top hat and swallowtail were changed from rough-made uniforms to exquisite fabrics tailored to fit.

Even the stains on his clothes changed from drunkards' vomit to red wine stains from private parties. Although the amount was not as much as before, the price of these red wine stains was far more valuable than vomit.

If there was anything similar between the past and the present, it was that Arthur was still wearing the same pair of white gloves he had worn since the Greenwich period.

British knight, famous scholar, musical genius, literary giant, and...

The cutest and most hateful Scotland Yard cop.

Sir Arthur Hastings.

Arthur's mind was full of the scene of sneaking into Moscow University today and being caught by two professors by accident.

What can be done in one second?

Light a cigarette, drink a glass of wine, or let two respected old professors treat you with arrogance and respect.

For some reason, Arthur suddenly remembered the story told to him by the French detective Mr. Vidocq.

He just revealed his name - Francois Vidocq, and the street hooligans in Paris ran away.

At this point, the name Arthur Hastings can also play the same role in the scientific community.

Please...collect 6...books...!

Just as Herzen ridiculed, the two professors first gave him a "long-admired" and then flattered him in every way, sighing that they were inferior.

Perhaps to give themselves courage, they also deliberately took Arthur to the home of Count Panin, the deputy director of the school district. The deputy director, who was regarded as a scourge by Herzen, also found a number of professors who he thought could demonstrate the academic quality of Moscow University and were close to him.

Moscow University is not without good professors, but the academic level of professors who focus on building relationships with officials is mostly not satisfactory.

Arthur still remembers an old professor named Fyodor Fyodorovich Rice. Although it may not be respectful to say so, in Arthur's opinion, this chemistry professor's understanding of chemistry does not seem to go beyond the basic scope of hydrogen and oxygen.

According to Herzen's report, the reason why the old man became a professor was not because he was outstanding, but because his uncle had studied this subject. Therefore, at the end of Catherine the Great's reign, Russia once sent someone to Germany to hire his uncle. But the old man was unwilling to come, so he recommended his nephew to replace him.

In short, this Mr. Nan Guo from Germany has been filling the classroom of Moscow University for forty years.

When he thought of this, Arthur couldn't help but want to speak up for Gogol.

One case after another proved that the little Russian could not become an associate professor at Kiev University not because of his academic literacy.

It was because he was a Russian, and while lacking luck, he also lacked a famous uncle.

But Arthur was obviously luckier than Gogol. Although he was a pig farmer and a dismissed assistant police inspector, his undergraduate degree from the University of London gave him the confidence to show off his power.

Halfway through the private reception at Count Panin's house today, he received a message from the Governor of Moscow, Duke Dmitri Golitsyn.

Duke Golitsyn first welcomed Arthur's arrival, and then talked about his friendship with Count Daramo, the ambassador to Russia.

After Secretary Blackwell's explanation, Arthur finally understood that Duke Golitsyn and Count Daramo were close friends. Whenever the two met at a dance, Duke Dmitri Golitsyn would always pull Count Daramo aside to ask about his well-being.

The cause of the incident seemed to be due to a remark made by Count Daramore that Duke Dmitri Golitsyn was a true Whig with the true soul of a Whig.

Although Arthur did not understand how there could be a Whig among Russian nobles, there was no doubt that this compliment was very useful to Duke Golitsyn, and it also made other Russian nobles look up to him.

Therefore, Duke Golitsyn showed great care for Arthur, the favorite student of Count Daramore.

Even if he took off the skin of a graduate of the University of London, it was still a very tempting option to make friends with Sir Arthur Hastings, a well-known scholar, writer, musician, and a "true royalist with the true soul of a royalist" recognized by His Majesty the Tsar.

He privately canceled the hotel that Arthur had booked, and specially allowed this dusty guest to live in his old house on Tverskoy Avenue in Moscow, and assigned him two cooks and several clumsy but capable and obedient male servants.

Not only that, even Mr. Blackwell, the private secretary, was assigned a boy to carry his bags.

The carriage that Arthur rode in was, of course, the best one rented by Duke Golitsyn from the coach shop.

The condition for all this was that Duke Dmitri Golitsyn hoped that Arthur could spare some time to attend the welcome party held for Arthur by the upper class in Moscow, where he could tell them about the recent major progress in electromagnetism and educate the young people at Moscow University who were ignorant and idle all day on behalf of his cousin, Duke Sergei Golitsyn, the dean of Moscow University.

In today's Moscow, if you don't recognize Sir Arthur Hastings, then I advise you to make up for this negligence as soon as possible.

Because the Governor-General Duke Golitsyn would be as satisfied and contented with Sir Arthur Hastings as anyone else playing Boston cards.

Arthur's carriage had just stopped in front of the Golitsyn family mansion on Tverskoi Boulevard, and the secretary, with a ruddy face, respectfully opened the door and cleared the snow in front of the carriage for Arthur, and respectfully invited the boss who had made him complain all the way to leave.

But before he could ask Arthur to leave, he saw a guy with snow on his shoulders standing on the steps beside him.

The man rubbed his frozen hands, shook off the snow on his body, revealing his hidden military police uniform, and walked to the carriage with stiff steps to salute: "Hello, Sir Arthur, do you remember me? Military police captain, Richard Huett."