“Mynheer, was it by your commands I was slighted at Breda?”
John de Witt’s face hardened.
“I know of no slight, Highness. It was you who treated the officers with contempt when you refused to sit down to table with them.”
“By your desire I was placed below M. de Montbas?”
“Yes, by my desire,” answered M. de Witt firmly. “Why do you refer to this incident, Highness? It was against my wish that you went to the camp, and in the matter of the banquet you behaved foolishly.”
“There was no gentleman there, as there is no gentleman in the United Provinces, above me in rank,” said the Prince, and a barely contained pride was in his eyes and voice.
“M. de Montbas is above you as the representative of the Republic and the head of the Army, Highness.”
Again William bit his lip. With the effort of keeping back the passion in his soul he flushed and quivered, fixing his eyes, that he knew often betrayed him, on the fire.
“Very well, Mynheer, I shall remember your wish, or the desire of the law, whichever I must call it.”