“God hath been pleased to put us in bitter straits.”
“What do you propose, Mynheer? What shall we do?”
It was a long time since Gaspard Fagel had deigned to ask the Grand Pensionary’s advice, but in the hour of terror and alarm the weaker nature threw aside pride and recognised the stronger.
M. de Witt uncovered his eyes and raised his head.
“I have come here to you, now, Mynheer, with my suggestion.”
“To me?”
John de Witt gave him a steady, mournful glance.
“You are no longer my friend, I know, M. Fagel.”
“Mynheer——!” protested the Secretary in a fluster of agitation.