William coughed. His cloak was fur-lined, but he constantly shivered; the shade, even of a September day, was hateful to him.
"Come into the sun," he said, and turned out of the alley into the clear-lit garden. They walked slowly towards the sundial and the carp basin, M. D'Avaux prodding the hard gravel with his cane and the Prince with his switch under his arm.
"Well, your business," said William calmly.
"Monseigneur," replied M. D'Avaux, with sincerity and some earnestness, "I think that you are embarked on a dangerous enterprise."
"The French say so," answered the Prince. "I have been told of the most extraordinary reports in your gazettes and pamphlets."
"I do not obtain my information from gazettes and pamphlets, Your Highness," answered the Ambassador firmly, "but from more reliable sources."
William paused by the carp pond and the bed of violet daisies.
"What is your information?" he asked.
"The last which Your Highness would wish in the hands of France."
"You seem to think, Monsieur," said William, with the shadow of a smile, "that I am an enemy of His Majesty."