“And the Princess Amalia,” interrupted M. de Montbas. “Look to her—she is ever intriguing.”
“I know; yet it is to little purpose,—at heart she is afraid of us.”
“But she will serve her grandson’s cause—and by any means—if she have but the chance.”
“I might see her also,” mused M. de Witt. “I know she is timid——”
The door was opened, and M. Van Ouvenaller took a few steps into the room.
“A man hath just ridden up to the Binnenhof, Mynheer, who earnestly desires to see you,” said the secretary. “His name is Captain Van Haren, of the garrison at Vlaardingen.”
The Grand Pensionary did not know the name.
“Nay, I cannot see him now,” he answered, “his business must wait; nor should you have broken in upon us with this, Van Ouvenaller.”
“Mynheer,” answered the secretary, colouring, “this man says he bears a letter from the Prince of Orange.”
“From the Prince of Orange!” cried de Montbas, rising.