There was a little silence. It was the King who spoke first.
"I can say no more," he said quietly. "You have decided. I trust that you will justify your resolution to yourself."
The Duke came heavily to the desk, laid the seals that were the symbol of his office on the desk, and was turning silently away, when the King held out his hand impulsively.
"My lord," he said, with much warmth and kindness, "even if I should never see you again—I should never forget '88."
Shrewsbury seized the frail hand, kissed it with tears, and went violently from the room.
William gave a little sigh, pushed back his chair, and put his hand to his head, coughing.
He was not long alone. Sunderland entered the little cabinet with his cautious light step and an expression that had a little lost its usual composure.
"The little Duke hath resigned," said the King laconically.
A rare ejaculation of impatience and contempt broke from the Lord Chamberlain. "Every one falleth away!" he exclaimed. "There goeth the last link with the Whigs!"
William gave a short laugh.