“Sir, that man is Hyacinthe St. Croix—a tool of M. de Pomponne—a spy of M. de Louvois—an assassin!”
St. Croix saw himself betrayed by a man whom he had been very sure of; his face lowered with the rage of it, but he had his answer.
“Does Your Highness allow your private business to be thus interrupted?”
The Stadtholder looked from one to another. M. Bentinck came nearer to him.
“This is the plot of which I warned Your Highness—the attempt to get you into the power of your enemies—to compass your death!” cried Florent hotly.
St. Croix affected to sneer.
“I do not know the man—will Your Highness listen to these children’s tales——?”
“Do not know me?—I have some letters of yours.”
William marked St. Croix’ expression.
“By your leave, Monsieur,” he said, “I will look into this.”