“And no one knows the truth save ourselves?”
“No one.”
She laughed, rather desperately.
“We shall not speak!”
“I think—no!”
“Mon Dieu!” sighed the Duchess, “I recall the younger de Witt; if ever a man was a saint he is one.”
“He will meet with a saint’s fate, I do not doubt, Madame.”
“Unless His Majesty reaches the Hague in time to save him from the mob,” returned the Duchess; “the King would be generous. When shall we be at the Hague, Monsieur le Marquis?”
“In two—three days.”
Monmouth came running across the grass towards them.