- Heinsius could find no answer.
"He was about the age I am now when he met his end," continued William, in a quiet tone. "After all, he had a happier life than I have had ... Monsieur de Witt! How long ago it seemeth!"
He filled his glass, and lifted it as if he drank a silent toast. He looked down the rich table and the splendid guests and up at the portrait of his wife above the dark chimney-piece.
A full ray of dusky sunlight struck across the canvas and gave the painted face something of the glow and bloom of life. The large brown eyes seemed to sparkle, the red lips to move, the white breast to heave. The King was still looking straight at this picture when a messenger entered.
At a glance William saw that his dispatches were from England and France. He set the wine down, and broke open that from London.
M. Heinsius, intently watching him, saw his countenance change, a violent flush rise to his cheek, and his hands tremble.
He pulled his hat over his eyes to cover his emotion, and nervously tore open the French dispatch. M. Heinsius saw that this was in the hand of my Lord Manchester, English Ambassador in Paris.
When the King had read it he was composed again, but even paler than usual. He folded both the letters up and placed them in the huge flap pocket of his coat; then he cast his dimmed but still eagle eye round the table.
"Gentlemen," he said, in a firm voice, "His late Majesty King James is dead at St. Germains."
He pushed back his chair a little and drew a quick breath.