The Prince thought at once of M. Bentinck, and opened the heavy door.
A couple of candles burning on the table between the windows revealed a man sitting before them, busily writing.
At the sound of the opening door he looked quickly up.
“Your Highness!” he exclaimed, and rose hastily.
“Ah, M. Van Mander,” said William, slightly surprised. “Where is M. Bentinck?”
“Gone to bed, Your Highness.”
“And the others?”
“I think every one is abed, Your Highness.”
The Prince smiled.