“You are a good girl,” said the Prince. “Now I will relieve you.”
Her face brightened.
“Ah, I can go to the fair on the Plein!… I had promised to go—but could not, when a poor old man lay dying.… There are great rejoicings, are there not? … because of His Highness.”
The Prince gave her an absent look.
“Yes, you can go—though this is no time for rejoicing, with the French on the border. Tell M. Triglandt it is his pupil come to see him.”
“His pupil?” she echoed, and went lightly up the stairs.
William turned to Florent.
“I am glad the people are good to him,” he said impulsively. “He escaped from Arnheim just before the French—entered.”
The girl called softly over the banisters—
“Will you come up, Mynheeren?”