“Why, there are two of His Highness’ mortal enemies waiting for him—M. de Groot and M. Van Ghent—accompanied by M. Van Odyk and a posse of secretaries.”
“Where are they?”
“Count Struym brought them to the Prince’s tent.”
M. Beverningh looked at Florent.
“Why, then, you are too late,” he said, and walked ahead with rapid steps.
The Prince’s tent was large, and divided by a dark curtain. The outer half was furnished with a few chairs, a table, and a chest, beside which lay some armour and a black cloak.
The grass before it was not yet worn away, and one flap being lifted a flood of heavy sunshine poured in through the open square.
Here M. Beverningh found M. Van Ghent, pale, and in mourning, M. de Groot, elegant, calm, but anxious, in converse with M. Ripperda de Buryse, the Deputy for Guelders, and M. Crommon, the representative of Zeeland.
Standing apart was M. Van Odyk, very handsomely attired.
Since M. Van Eyck had been objected to by the State of Groningen, he alone represented the Prince’s party in the embassy.