“At least not what the French and English can offer you.”
The Prince gave him a strange, almost a wistful, glance.
“Oh, this is a little age,” he said wearily. “Of such little men … I … but, no.…”
He turned his gaze over his camp, spread beneath the gold and silver dawn.
“Perhaps some men could have done better,” he said. “I would I could have served one campaign under Condé before I had to serve against him … yet against all odds something may be accomplished.”
M. Bentinck stared at him.
“You do not seriously think of resistance, Highness?”
“Would you consider it madness?” asked William.
“The most utter madness!”
M. Bentinck was vehement.