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Updated: June 25, 2025
All during the morning hours he would sit in the silence of that corner-room on the ground floor reading. There were three writing-desks in the library, and one was chiefly reserved for correspondence of a political nature, and another for his literary work, while the third was used by Mrs. Gladstone. He spent his evenings when at Hawarden in a cosy corner of the library reading.
Something clicked in Hanlon's mind. "The emperor," he exclaimed. "Maybe we'd better have another go at him. I'll bet his mind's a lot freer from that compulsion now, and perhaps he can remember more of what Bohr sealed away from his conscious memory." Hawarden nodded. "That's a good bet. I'll arrange it."
The Duke of Devonshire before the British Empire League referred touchingly to the mournful scenes at Hawarden, when "the greatest of Englishmen was slowly passing away." And all over the land people of all conditions and at all kinds of gatherings, politicians, divines, reformers, and women joined in expressions of grief and sympathy.
Hanlon handed Hawarden a note, and the admiral sent a couple of marines off on a run. Half an hour later a truck pulled up in front, and the marines carried in another desk. It was the one from that back room in the Bacchus Tavern. Hanlon himself went through this, but was quickly disappointed. There wasn't a thing he wanted in any of the drawers.
There is preserved in the annals of the Church a list of the rectors of Hawarden as far back as 1180. About forty years ago a fire broke out in the Church, and when all was over, very little was left of the original structure except the walls. It was restored with great expedition, and was re-opened within the same year.
King Edward had bought over PRINCE DAVID, Llewellyn's brother, by heaping favours upon him; but he was the first to revolt, being perhaps troubled in his conscience. One stormy night, he surprised the Castle of Hawarden, in possession of which an English nobleman had been left; killed the whole garrison, and carried off the nobleman a prisoner to Snowdon.
Gladstone was announced to the people of Hawarden by the tolling of the church bell. The following bulletin was posted at 6 a.m.: "In the natural course of things the funeral will be at Hawarden. Mr. Gladstone expressed a strong wish to have no flowers at his funeral; and the family will be grateful if this desire is strictly respected."
"The Corps thanks Your Majesty," Admiral Hawarden rose to leave, and Newton and Hanlon did likewise. "We'll keep you closely informed of things as they break," and the three backed from the study, bowing. Grand Fleet had been rapidly assembling in the region near Simonides, just outside visual range, and away from the passenger and freight lanes. Mobilization was now complete.
After some haggling with the emperor's secretary, and his insistence that it was a matter of the utmost importance that could not wait until morning, he was finally told His Majesty would see him. "Got it," Hawarden rose. "Come along." Hanlon started toward the door, then looked down at his torn and dirty clothing. "I'm not very presentable." "We can get you a uniform from the barracks."
"He didn't have brains enough to invent an excuse." "I wonder, then, what Bohr had in mind to bring such a man here like that?" Hawarden frowned. "Maybe a trick to help throw His Majesty off guard," Newton suggested. "Or else just a sop to Panek's vanity, to tie him closer to Bohr," Hanlon said. "A thing like that would have tickled Panek." "We'll have him rounded up, then."
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