## Chapter 143: Science Leaps Forward
The preparation room of the Royal Society was filled with the nervous energy of Charles Wheatstones. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, his lips were pale, and his shirt was damp with perspiration. The thought of facing hundreds, even thousands of people on the stage the next day made his legs tremble uncontrollably.
Wheatstones sat for a while, but the anxiety gnawed at him. He stood up and paced the room, but his legs felt weak.
Earlier that morning, he had felt better than ever. Now, he felt as if he was on the verge of death.
“Perhaps I should find a way to escape London until the Royal Society forgets about me?” Wheatstones muttered to himself.
As he was talking, a click echoed through the room. The locked door was pushed open from the outside.
Wheatstones jumped back, nearly knocking over the floor-length mirror behind him.
“Isn’t it my turn yet? I’m supposed to be on stage tomorrow,” he exclaimed, his voice trembling.
He looked up and saw a young man standing in the doorway. The man’s physique and attire seemed vaguely familiar.
The young man, with a pipe clenched between his teeth, raised his wide-brimmed hat slightly to shield his eyes, and greeted Wheatstones. “Good day, sir. I’m here to apologize.”
“You?!”
Wheatstones recognized the young man who had tripped him at the academy gate. If not for this young man, he might have already escaped this ‘hell’.
He wanted to confront Arthur, but after noticing their obvious size difference, Wheatstones wisely abandoned the idea.
He chose peace over violence when he couldn’t beat the other person.
Wheatstones sighed, “So, who are you exactly?”
Arthur removed his pipe and extended his hand towards Wheatstones in a friendly gesture, “Arthur Hastings. I heard from Mr. Faraday that you wanted to talk to me?”
“Hastings… Mr. Hastings?”
Wheatstones slapped his forehead. “My God! How could it be you?! I… I’m sorry, I simply can’t connect you with the image of a thug who trips people.”
Arthur couldn’t help but stroke his chin. “Oh, really? Didn’t Mr. Faraday tell you that besides being an electromagnetism researcher, I’m also a Scotland Yard policeman? There’s not much difference between a Scotland Yard policeman and a thug. The only difference might be that we use violence legally.”
Wheatstones scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. “You’re a Scotland Yard policeman, I’ve heard that… but Mr. Faraday also told me that you’re very gentle and polite, unlike ordinary policemen. So, in my imagination, you should be pale, with a hint of fatigue in your eyes, and an air of nobility in your every move…”
Arthur shrugged, “With all due respect, Mr. Wheatstones, pale and fatigued usually means tuberculosis, which isn’t exactly an air of nobility. But I understand your thinking, as that’s the current social trend. Novels always describe nobles that way.
If they want to express their noble birth and handsome appearance, they’ll always write something like, ‘Her delicate neck was like a swan’s, her white skin like the pale moonlight,’ or ‘Her long, graceful hands and arms were perfectly proportioned, like a natural heraldic symbol.’
This kind of sickly description has become a template. It’s a strange society, those who are truly ill wish they weren’t, and those who are healthy wish they were.”
Wheatstones chuckled awkwardly, “I’m sorry, sir, it was my mistake. I… I’m not as eloquent as you. You might not know this, but although they call me a scientist, I spend most of my time working in my instrument workshop at home. I spend more time communicating with violins than with people.”
Arthur smiled, “Same here, I’m not so eloquent either. You might not know this, but although I’m publicly recognized as a Catholic, I spend most of my time walking through hell. I make deals with the devil much more often than I pray to God.”
“You… what are you going to do…”
Wheatstones sensed something amiss in Arthur’s words. He took a step back, his eyes involuntarily glancing at the door behind Arthur.
Arthur, of course, noticed his reaction. He casually pulled a flintlock pistol from his pocket and placed it on the table in front of him.
Arthur said, “Mr. Wheatstones, you study acoustics, so you must know that the speed of sound in air is 343 meters per second. I study bullets, so I can confidently tell you that bullets are faster than sound. If you don’t believe me, we can do an experiment now, after all, practice makes perfect.”
Wheatstones’ Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, “I… you… are we discussing scientific principles right now?”
Arthur pulled up a chair and sat down. He took a puff of his pipe and exhaled a plume of white smoke, “For now, but if you’re not honest, it won’t be long. Although I might not be your equal in science, I’ve studied violence much more than you have. Ten of you wouldn’t be able to match me in that.”
Wheatstones took a breath and raised his hands slightly, “Okay… alright, I’ll listen to you… you…”
Before he could finish, Wheatstones suddenly dashed towards the door, but before he could cross the threshold, he heard the sound of the pistol’s safety being released behind him.
In a flash, Wheatstones ducked down, covering his head and shouting, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot! You’re right! Bullets are faster than sound! Damn it! Why do you insist on making me give that lecture? I’m willing to do anything else! Mr. Hastings, why don’t I make you a violin, we’ll call it even.”
As soon as Wheatstones finished speaking, the devil beside him couldn’t help but whistle, “Oh! A violin!”
Arthur glanced at the Red Devil, who was clearly tempted, and said, “Sorry! Mr. Wheatstones. According to Scotland Yard’s internal regulations, we can’t demand anything from good citizens. Unless…”
“Unless what?” Wheatstones slowly turned his body while squatting on the ground.
Arthur spun the pistol around and placed it back on the table, “Unless this gift is out of friendship. If we do have a friendship, I might consider making a small request to the Duke of Sussex, like postponing your lecture, for example. After all, he owes me a favor.”
“A violin can postpone my lecture?”
Wheatstones’ eyes lit up. He looked at Arthur like he had found a savior, his face beaming with excitement. “Oh! Hastings… no, my dear Arthur! You truly are a righteous officer worthy of public trust. You’re always there when citizens need you. Mr. Faraday was right, you not only have scientific talent but also a golden heart!”
Arthur shook his head while puffing on his pipe, “Mr. Wheatstones, don’t misunderstand. Even if I help you, it’s not because of the violin, but because of friendship.”
“Yes, friendship!” Wheatstones laughed foolishly, “Of course it’s because of friendship, how could it be because of a violin? Arthur, would you accept my friendship?”
A smirk played on Arthur’s lips. The fish had jumped into his net, he had no reason to refuse.
“Of course, my friend. I would love to accept your friendship. Out of friendship, I’m going to invite you to a banquet in London’s West End this Sunday evening. I’m sure you have no reason to refuse.”
“A banquet?” Wheatstones’ smile froze. “Wasn’t friendship a violin?”
Arthur wasn’t going to continue pulling his leg. He leaned down and placed his hat on Wheatstones’ head.
“Mr. Wheatstones, accepting your violin is accepting your friendship. Accepting my banquet invitation is accepting my friendship. It’s a courtesy among friends, a social rule between people, I can’t be in your debt. Do you agree?”
Wheatstones looked at Arthur’s red-rimmed eyes and sensed the chilling smile on his lips.
More importantly, it’s hard to react differently when there’s a gun pointed at your head.
Wheatstones forced out a smile that was more pathetic than crying, “Your friendship, it’s hard to disagree.”
Arthur patted him on the shoulder, smiling, “You’ll get to know me gradually. Mr. Wheatstones, you need to know that I’m good at socializing. So, in return, your scientific lecture is postponed until next month. During this time, I will provide you with lecture training to help you overcome your fear.”
Wheatstones blinked, his eyes filled with misery, “Do I need to have a gun pointed at me during training?”
“No, no, no.”
Arthur shook his finger, “Training is free, and during this time, if you can make some breakthroughs in acoustics, you might be able to solve your fear of lecturing once and for all. I’ve heard from Mr. Faraday about your invention of the megaphone. If you can combine it with the sound principle of a music box, you might be able to create something incredible.”
Wheatstones was stunned. Arthur’s words sparked a flash of inspiration in his mind, he felt like he was on the verge of something.
“You… you’re saying?”
Arthur smiled and asked, “Mr. Wheatstones, since your megaphone can display the sound curve characteristics produced by different vibration modes, why not reverse it? That way, you wouldn’t need to stand on stage, just set up a machine and the lecture would be done.”
(End of Chapter)