But this policy was too far-seeing, too slow, and too lofty to appeal to men eager for immediate gain and applause, indifferent to their country’s ultimate good, only vaguely concerned even for her present glory, and absorbed purely in their own selfish interests, that lay entirely with France.
Arranging for another private interview with the Prince in the morning, the commissioners and the deputies separated. After hours of talk, nothing had been conceded one side or the other, the English refusing to abate their terms and the Dutch resolved not to accept them.
William Bentinck, who had listened eagerly, but said very little, had decided privately that the Prince could and must do no other than come separately to terms with the envoys, on the basis of a secret arrangement such as they had themselves offered and urged.
Excited, and unable to sleep on the hard settle that was his only bed (since an English gentleman had his room), Bentinck determined to consult with the Prince. William had desired to be roused early, to allow himself time before his final interview with the English commissioners.
But Bentinck discovered that he had not been to bed at all, but was sitting fully dressed by the open window.
“Ah, you,” he said affectionately. “I am glad to see you.”
M. Bentinck placed the candle beside the one already on the mantelshelf.
“And I am sorry you have not been asleep, Sir.”
“Have you?” smiled the Prince.
“No—but it was not my fault.”