"I think Your Highness does when you step into the place of the man you have cast down."
"It was not I," replied William, "it was the Netherlands that would not endure the Cardinal."
"You take refuge behind that," said Barlaymont bitterly, "but it shall not save you. Now you exult. Now you think to put your foot on our party, and for a time you may. But I tell you that you have won a perilous victory."
"I know it," said the Prince.
"Now you are supreme, now you are the favourite," continued the fallen minister. "But the King is not so easily dared, so safely affronted. As surely as now you are uppermost, Philip will call you and those behind you to account—to a very stern account, Highness."
"You speak as the mouthpiece of Madrid," said the Prince, "and doubtless have good authority for these threats. Tell those who instructed you that I know my position and their power."
"I speak for myself only," replied Barlaymont, "to let you know that I am only for the moment disgraced and humiliated—down as I am, I would not change to stand in your Highness's place! Nay, I would not wear your present honours at the cost you must pay——"
"I do believe it," answered William; "but you and I are different men, Barlaymont, and my house has never shirked perilous honours."
He bent his head and passed on, lacing again his glove.
About the bottom of the stairs a flood of crimson light lay, cast by the two windows filled with red and gold glass, through which the last rays of the winter sun was streaming; and as William descended, it gradually enveloped him and dyed him red as if he was passing into a sea of blood, over his feet, to his waist, to his shoulders, closing over his head.