Cogitating various problems on his return to his own house that evening, he remembered that despite numerous protests and petitions, the King had, up to the present, paid no attention to the appeals of his people against the increasing inroads of taxation. The only two measures he had carried with a high and imperative hand, were first,--the ‘vetoing’ of an intended declaration of war,--and the refusal of extensive lands to the Jesuits. The first was the more important action, as, while it had won the gratitude and friendship of a previously hostile State, it had lost several ‘noble’ gamblers in the griefs of nations, some millions of money. The check to the Jesuits was comparatively trivial, yet it had already produced far-reaching effects, and had offended the powers at the Vatican. But, beyond this, things remained apparently as they were; true, the Socialists were growing stronger;--but there was no evidence that the Government was growing weaker. “After all,” thought Pérousse, as a result of his meditations; “there is no immediate cause for anxiety. If Lutera has sent in his resignation, it may not be accepted. That rests--like other things--with the King.” And a vague surprise affected him at this fact. “Curious!” he muttered,--“Very curious that he, who was a Nothing, should now be a Something! The change has taken place very rapidly,--and very strangely! I wonder what--or who--is moving him?” But to this inward query he received no satisfactory reply. The mysterious upshot of the whole position was the same,--namely, that somehow, in the most unaccountable, inexplicable manner, the wind and weather of affairs had so veered round, that the security of Ministers and the stability of Government rested, not with themselves or the nature of their quarrels and discussions, but solely on one whom they were accustomed to consider as a mere ornamental figure-head,--the King.