"Because Your Majesty used to have some kindness for me," was the reply, given with a frank modesty; "because no man living could revere Your Majesty more than I do."
"I am not used to be so courted," said William sternly. "You have too ready a tongue. M. Heinsius may find another messenger."
He rose and would have turned away, but the young man, still on his knees, caught the King's stiff silk coat skirts.
"Will the Prince of Orange ever refuse to listen to the appeal of the United Provinces?" he asked, with singular sweetness and force.
William looked down at him, hesitated, then said faintly—
"Rise, Mynheer. I am not your King. As for the Republic"—he sank into the great wand-bottomed chair again and said abruptly—"how think they the campaign will go?"
M. van Keppel got to his feet and stood his full splendid height.
"M. de Vaudemont saith, sire, that if Your Majesty would come to lead us there is no question that the allies might do more than they have ever done." He paused a moment, then continued, "M. de Boufflers is guarding the banks of the Sambre; a great army is collected from the Lys to the Scheldt. M. de Villeroy, they say, is to fix his headquarters at Tournay; but the allies are ready to take the field—operations could begin next month. M. de Vaudemont and M. Heinsius have written so to Your Majesty."
William glanced at the pile of unopened correspondence; he flushed and looked again at M. van Keppel.
"Sire," said the young soldier proudly, "there is Fleurus, Steinkirk, and Landen to avenge. I rode past Namur a week ago and saw the Bourbon lilies flying above the keep."