"I must see the King immediately. It is no use our remaining here to discuss a situation that is not yet explained. The first thing to find out is whether this has gone any further; but I do not think his Majesty really means it as anything more than a threat."
"Had you no hint that it was coming?" inquired the Commissioner-General.
The Prime Minister was on his way to the door. "No," he said; "not a word." And then he paused, as the particular meaning of a certain carefully chosen and repeated phrase flashed on him for the first time. "He said to me yesterday—repeating what he said four months ago when we tendered our resignations—'I will no longer stand in your way.' And now I suppose we have it."
"Good Heavens!" cried the Minister of the Interior, "does he call this not standing in our way?"
The Prime Minister cast an expressive glance at his chagrined and embarrassed following—a glance of self-confidence and determination, one which still said "Depend upon me!"
But only from one of his colleagues was there any look of answering confidence, or speech confirming it.
"When you are disengaged, Chief, may I have a few moments?"
It was the Prefect who spoke, a man of few words.
Eye to eye they looked at each other for a brief spell.
The Prime Minister nodded. "Come to me in two hours' time," he said. "We shall know then where we are." And so saying he left the room.