“May I give Your Highness my congratulations and good wishes?”
“Thank you, Bromley.”
The Englishman withdrew.
“This is something to have wrung from M. de Witt,” cried M. Bentinck excitedly. “’Tis a violation of the terms of the Act of Harmony.”
“He would have been wiser to have given it,” said William slowly. “I begged him to—I was certain of it from the first.”
With a little cough he moved to the mantelshelf again. He seemed in no way elated or moved, weary rather. He fell again into the reserved silence M. Bentinck’s home-coming had dispelled, and looked in an absorbed and thoughtful manner on the ground.
His friend could not quite understand. A thousand ardours clutched at his heart that he could not express; he saw in the Captain Generalship a step to the Stadtholdership—but what of the war?
“War is inevitable, M. de Zuylestein says——”
“It has been so ever since M. de Pomponne was recalled—De Courtin’s nomination was a mere farce—M. de Witt would never see it,” answered the Prince.
“You speak of France?”