“Sir,” declared Van Mander ardently, “I must insist that you listen to me.… Once more the French will send you terms … should you again refuse them—they have resolved to compass your death.”
The Stadtholder was still indifferent.
“These plots are hatched against every man of position.”
“There is danger at home as well as in the French camp,” insisted Florent. “A great name was mentioned.”
“Whose?” asked M. Bentinck eagerly.
“That of M. Cornelius de Witt.”
The Prince looked up sharply, roused at length by this.
“Impossible!” he exclaimed.
“I spoke with the fellow he had confided in,” Van Mander answered; “this Michael Tichelaer, who saw him soon after Your Highness was proclaimed in Dordt.… He was very precise: M. de Witt railed against Your Highness, said you would marry a foreign Princess and make yourself absolute in the United Provinces—and to prevent this and to bring the republicans back to power he desired this Tichelaer to go to the camp and kill Your Highness——”