Felix looked round involuntarily, lest any one should have heard; Mouse
was the nick-name for the Prince. Like all who rule with irresponsible
power, the Prince had spies everywhere. He was not a cruel man, nor a
benevolent, neither clever nor foolish, neither strong nor weak; simply
an ordinary, a very ordinary being, who chanced to sit upon a throne
because his ancestors did, and not from any personal superiority.

He was at times much influenced by those around him; at others he took
his own course, right or wrong; at another he let matters drift. There
was never any telling in the morning what he might do towards night, for
there was no vein of will or bias running through his character. In
fact, he lacked character; he was all uncertainty, except in jealousy of
his supremacy. Possibly some faint perception of his own incapacity, of
the feeble grasp he had upon the State, that seemed outwardly so
completely his, occasionally crossed his mind.

Hence the furious scenes with his brother; hence the sudden
imprisonments and equally sudden pardons; the spies and eavesdroppers,
the sequestration of estates for no apparent cause. And, following these
erratic severities to the suspected nobles, proclamations giving
privileges to the people, and removing taxes. But in a few days these
were imposed again, and men who dared to murmur were beaten by the
soldiers, or cast into the dungeons. Yet Prince Louis (the family were
all of the same name) was not an ill-meaning man; he often meant well,
but had no stability or firmness of purpose.

This was why Felix dreaded lest some chance listener should hear Oliver
abuse him. Oliver had been in the army for some time; his excellence in
all arms, and especially with lance and sword, his acknowledged courage,