"You have nothing more to say?" he added.
"Nothing, Monseigneur, unless Your Highness can give me the assurances I was bid to ask——"
"What would be the use of that, Monsieur, when you know, as you say," returned the Stadtholder.
M. D'Avaux was slightly baffled; he thought that the Prince must betray more concern unless he had some counter-stroke to this of the threat to the States.
He answered with dignity—
"Then I need trouble Your Highness no further."
"Very well," answered William. "I am sorry that you have wasted your time, Monsieur; but I always was of a tolerably positive disposition, and difficult to turn."
"All Europe knoweth that," answered M. D'Avaux, with a little flush; for the Prince's words were an obvious assertion of the fact that he would not alter his plans for any French threats—an obvious challenge.
They walked down the hard gravel path between the beds of late roses. At the garden gate the Prince parted from M. D'Avaux with that simplicity which was his natural manner, but generally credited to him for guile.
"I am obliged to you for this courtesy," he said. "Au revoir, Monsieur."