"But shall we?" interrupted Mordaunt. "Ah, sir, I think the Prince will meet the same spirit as did John de Witt, should he ever rule in England——"
"Why, God forbid!" exclaimed Mr. Fletcher.
"What?" demanded Mordaunt sharply—"that we should ever be ungrateful?"
"No; that His Highness should ever rule in Britain."
Lord Mordaunt answered with some intensity—
"Are you so simple, sir, as to think we can have a man like that among us not ruling us?"
Lord Shrewsbury was doubtfully silent. His timorous nature had been startled by the sudden action into which circumstances had spurred it. A sense of loyalty, a terror of underhand methods, a dread of anything so violent as a revolution made him already secretly regret the part he had so far played so well.
Mr. Fletcher answered carelessly and thoughtlessly—
"You set too high a value on the little Prince. His life is not worth a year's purchase."
Lord Mordaunt flashed an extraordinary look over the fine person of the speaker, and the comely youth of the Earl. His thin hand clutched on to his sword-belt, and his haggard face flushed.