“I pray daily for the success and safety of the Republic,” he answered sternly.
“But not for me, Mynheer?” asked William quietly.
“I pray that Your Highness may be a worthy servant of the country that owes everything to my son.”
With a gesture of unspeakable pride he pointed to John de Witt.
“Ingratitude is the vice of princes,” he said strongly. “May God preserve Your Highness from that fault.”
He moved to the door, turning his back on the Prince with the air of one who has administered a just rebuke.
John de Witt thought that the Prince would answer, and answer in words that neither could forgive.
But William was silent; he merely raised his brows a little and waited for the elder de Witt to leave.
The Grand Pensionary, proud and collected as ever, remained where the Prince’s entrance found him, his back to the window, his eyes on His Highness.
The moment that the door closed William spoke.