Demonstration of Telegraph

The following morning arrived beneath clear skies.

Ernest appreciated that.

Rain would not affect the demonstration inside the palace, but storms had a tendency to make people nervous whenever electricity became involved.

Particularly when the electricity existed inside glass jars filled with acid.

The servants certainly seemed nervous enough already.

By sunrise, the temporary telegraph line had already been inspected three separate times.

The batteries had been checked twice.

The wire connections had been tightened, cleaned, and checked again.

Ernest trusted the design.

He trusted the mathematics.

He trusted physics.

What he did not trust was fate.

Fate had a habit of choosing important moments to become entertaining.

A knock sounded against the door.

"Master Teucher."

"Come in."

A servant stepped inside and bowed.

"His Majesty requests your presence."

Ernest nodded.