“You should never have let him go,” said M. Beverningh. “A strong man could not have stood what he has put upon himself——”
“You made no protest,” retorted William Bentinck.
“What influence have I?”
“No—nor any man.” M. Bentinck frowned. “Well, if he falls sick there is an end to all of it—for he alone holds us together.”
Catching up the candle he flickered it across the Prince’s unconscious face.
M. de Zuylestein was unbuckling his nephew’s rusty armour.
“He is not wounded,” he said; “ye should never have let him go out again——”
“If ye had been awake, Mynheer, maybe ye could have stopped him,” replied M. Bentinck angrily.
Much of their reserve and fortitude was suddenly shaken by this collapse. The despair his personal influence had kept at bay began to seize hold of them; of the three the lawyer was the calmest.
He put his hand to the Prince’s forehead and untied his cravat.