“I suppose I must,” replied the burgomaster. “I’ll go to-morrow morning.”
“Not to-morrow,” replied Van Hout. “The Prince rides fast, and if you don’t find him in Delft—”
“Do you go first,” urged the burgomaster, “you have the record of our session.”
“I cannot; but to-day you, the Prince’s friend, for the first time lack good-will.”
“You are right, Jan,” exclaimed the burgomaster, “and you shall know what holds me back.”
“If it is anything a friend can do for you, here he stands,” said von Nordwyk.
Van der Werff grasped the hand the young nobleman extended, and answered, smiling: “No, my lord, no. You know my young wife. To-day we should have celebrated the first anniversary of our marriage, and amid all these anxieties I disgracefully forgot it.”
“Hard, hard,” said Van Hout, softly. Then he drew himself up to his full height, and added resolutely: “And yet, were I in your place, I would go, in spite of her.”
“Would you go to-day?”
“To-day, for to-morrow it may be too late. Who knows how soon egress from the city may be stopped and, before again venturing the utmost, we must know the Prince’s opinion. You possess more of his confidence than any of us.”