“We will take up our interrupted studies, Highness, and I will overlook an indiscretion, as you must overlook some necessary harshness,” he smiled.
“Do not recall M. Bornius and M. de Chapuygeau,” pleaded William frankly. “Mynheer, I know all they can teach me. M. Huggens, M. Van Ghent, and yourself are sufficient tutors for me,—nay, you will do me this favour, not to put over me men whom I dislike.”
John de Witt was still smiling.
“You had no right to dismiss them, Highness, but to show my goodwill I shall obtain this favour for you.”
“I am greatly obliged to you, Mynheer.”
William was thanking him, flattering him, with his marvellous eyes, his low voice and grateful carriage.
“Will you honour me with a visit to-morrow, Mynheer?” he asked, with an air of courteous outspokenness that sat charmingly on his youth. “I have left M. Van Odyk in Middelburg to exercise those duties that will be mine when I am out of tutelage—for the rest, I beg you will forgive them.”
“Highness,” answered John de Witt, gravely and sweetly, “it is my mind ever to spend as little time as possible in looking backwards, it will be my very great happiness to forget everything save your good qualities, and to work side by side with you in the future.”
William fixed his smiling eyes on the Grand Pensionary’s face and held out his hand—