“Their instructions may be better than their characters,” suggested M. Bentinck.
“We will hope so.”
William reflected a moment, then addressed his secret agent—
“I think, M. Sylvius, it would be well if you join these English again, and accompany them to the King of France.”
He would not mention the name of the enemy’s camp, for Doesburg, where the King lay, was one of his own lordships, and it was exceedingly bitter to him that the French had taken it.
He coughed, impatiently turned down the lamp, that with the slightest movement smoked, and added—
“You can at least report directly and truthfully to me on what takes place; these commissioners will colour matters to suit themselves. And for your further convenience you had better take some Dutch secretary——”
He paused, then continued slowly—
“There is one Van Mander in Bromley’s quarters, newly come from the Hague, who will do very well.”
Sir Gabriel Sylvius rose.