But it did not escape Sir William that the Grand Pensionary spoke like a man trying to reassure himself.
“The Prince is your pupil—forgive me, but, as I said, the situation is curious. You, sir, a republican—for seventeen years the head of a Republic which has been a fine nation, and a wealthy, and a lesson to all of us—you undertake the education of a Prince who is the heir of the House on whose ruin you founded your Republic; you bring this young man up in your ideas, you teach him this, that, as you will; you are not his master but his friend—he is to regard himself as a mere citizen of the country that is his heritage—well, it is a curious experiment, Mynheer de Witt.”
The Grand Pensionary answered quietly—
“I have done all I can—since we speak privately, not as politicians, I will say that I have no hope to always exclude His Highness from all power. I think that when he comes of age he will obtain the command of the army; nor do I regret it—the House of Orange has rendered such service to Holland that there should be some gratitude, some trust shown this Prince.”
Sir William closed the book he held and replaced it on the shelf.
“Meanwhile I train him to serve his country,” continued de Witt, with a faint smile.
“You serve your country well, Mynheer,” remarked the Englishman, watching him.
“I serve my ideals,” said the Grand Pensionary.
The Englishman very slightly shrugged his shoulders.