William made a half movement towards him.
“M. de Witt!” he said in a stifled voice. “M. de Witt!”
The fallen Minister smiled, almost tenderly.
“You have a hard task before you—as I well know.”
William held out his hand.
“Forget I am Nassau and take my hand as that of one who should be grateful to you.…”
John de Witt responded instantly; the fine fingers clasped. It seemed as if both men must speak, but no word passed.
“Good-night, Mynheer,” the Prince said at last.
“Good-night, Your Highness.”
John de Witt passed through the crowded antechamber and out into the street.