Gaspard Fagel, Grand Pensionary of Holland, and M. Dyckfelt, entered the little room where the Prince awaited them. They were both statesmen who had been trained under the last Grand Pensionary, John de Witt, whose Parliamentary Republic had kept the Prince twenty years out of his hereditary offices, and both retained something of the simplicity and sternness of their early life, especially M. Dyckfelt, who wore the plain falling band of the Republican era and a suit old-fashioned in primness and sombre colour.
He was a cleverer man than M. Fagel, who was utterly and entirely under the dominion of the Stadtholder, and saw too clearly with his master's eyes even to have an opinion of his own. His manner to the Prince was the more humble, but both addressed him with that deep respect which does not preclude perfect openness.
William looked at them both sharply, then down at the letters in his hand.
"I have received the invitation from England for which I have been waiting," he said.
- Dyckfelt bowed, and M. Fagel answered—
"May I congratulate Your Highness——"
"Not yet," interrupted William. "Listen first to these letters—they ask almost the impossible."
He made a little gesture to the straight chairs the other side of the table, and the two seated themselves. M. Dyckfelt had flushed with eagerness and excitement, M. Fagel looked tired and ill. They were both considerably older than the Prince, both men of a fine type with honest, shrewd faces.
William drew his chair nearer the table and held the letters under the glow of the flame of the tall wax candles.
"These," he said, looking down at the flowing English writing, "were brought me by Mr. Herbert, whom I suppose you met, M. Dyckfelt, in England, and are written by Mr. Sidney."