“If Your Highness will let me know your requirements I will see that Their High Mightinesses meet them,” he answered simply.
The Prince flung back the pink velvet cloak and replaced the list of his officers in his pocket.
The fading, reddish sunlight gathered in the gold hilt of his sword, ran down the length of the shining scabbard, and shone in the curls that lay on his shoulders.
“You must believe me always your friend,” he said, lifting his brilliant eyes.
“And you always that I pray for your success—and that I will in every way assist you—Highness,” responded M. de Witt sincerely.
“I shall remember,” answered William, “and hereafter, without doubt, be glad to remind you of it.”
John de Witt, encouraged by the quiet friendliness of the other’s tone, continued with impulsive warmth—
“I shall work in the Cabinet as you in the field. Let no differences estrange us, for have we not the same object in view—the same hope to animate us, the same fear to spur us on? God, who has us both in His hand, keep you, Prince—and help you.”
“Amen,” said William. “And may He guide your councils, M. de Witt.”
The Grand Pensionary held out his fine right hand.