But now the fact was brought home to him that he could no longer occupy an ambiguous position; before him lay a letter from Margaret containing a copy of the new oath for his signature, and her request that he take this oath without delay.
William half smiled as he contemplated the two sheets of paper; it was such a childish, malicious, gratuitous trick on Philip's part, and yet it served so well to test every man in his service.
And it put the astute Prince, who had walked so long and so carefully between extremes, to the necessity of having to choose one way or another.
For this new oath which had arrived from Madrid instead of the long-promised King himself, instead of the definite news for which Margaret was so impatiently waiting, consisted of a pledge that he, who was in the services of His Majesty, was to hold himself bound to serve and obey the Government in any place, against any person, without exception or restriction.
The Cardinalists had all taken this oath, and so, after some hesitation, had Egmont.
And now it lay before William in his room in his castle at Breda, where his household now was, and to which he had returned after a journey round the towns of his provinces.
Closed now was the gorgeous mansion in Brussels whose hospitality and magnificence had been one of the wonders of the capital; over were those days of luxury and gaiety, feasting and thoughtlessness.
The Prince's household was now reduced to about a hundred and fifty persons; he was more than ever in need of money, and his debts increased.
But he had recently refused a present of money from the States of Holland as a thank-offering for his efforts in establishing peace in that province; he did not wish anything he did to be laid open to the charge of personal interest.
Rising and going to the window, with that impulse that always sends men to the light when in deep thought, he stood looking out on the grey March sky, the grey walls of the castle, and the bare trees.