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Admiral Hawarden's eyes widened, and though he said nothing, he was thinking, "This is certainly the most amazing young man I've ever met. Where does the SS get 'em?" They had barely entered the study when a door on the far side of the room opened, and the emperor came in, leaning on the arm of an aide. He sat down heavily behind the ornate desk. "Well well well," he barked pettishly.
His son, the first Lord Hawarden, was born in 1727, and Captain Francis Maude was this Lord Hawarden's youngest son. The year of his death saw also that of a truly venerable woman, Mrs. Hodgson, mother of Kirkman and Stewart Hodgson, the well-known partners in Barings' house.
A couple of hours later Admiral Hawarden called Hanlon at the hotel, where he had just finished making arrangements for Philander's operation and treatments. "Your father and I want you to come to Base at once, sir." When he arrived in Hawarden's private office, the admiral handed him a pair of silver bars. "These are yours now, Captain Hanlon." The young man looked up in surprise.
They had nearly finished eating when their waiter brought a portable visiphone to the table. "A call for you, Mr. Hanlon," and he plugged the set into a wall-socket. Hanlon flipped the switch and saw Admiral Hawarden's face smiling from the screen. "We got the freighter just a few minutes ago," he reported.
There were tears in Admiral Hawarden's eyes and he impulsively stepped forward and grasped the emperor's hand. "Welcome back, Sire," he said sincerely. Back at Base, there were messages awaiting, that had come in while they were gone. The admiral handed one of them to Hanlon. It was terse, but brought a happy smile to his face. "Coming immediately, with full crew. Congratulations.
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