“I did what I would do again,” repeated John de Witt firmly, and without bitterness.
He picked up the Prince’s letter and looked at it again.
“The Princess and the Elector, his guardians, declare him of age—it follows he will be claiming a seat in the Council of State,” he remarked.
“Zeeland will demand the restoration of the Stadtholdership,” added M. de Montbas.
“Maybe.” De Witt spoke thoughtfully. “There will be a fierce fight; perhaps I could gain the Princess, at least I will see her.”
He glanced at the blue china clock on the mantelshelf.
“The Assembly is now sitting,” he remarked.
“We have not yet decided the question of these riots,” said M. de Montbas.
“This letter puts a different complexion on the matter.” M. de Witt folded and placed it in his pocket as he spoke. “I must set the whole affair before the Assembly.” He turned to the secretary, “Will you lock up those papers in my desk, Mynheer Van Mander?”