"But I have some men gathered together," he said. "A poor little army, it is true, but something."
"That is your work, not Brederode's," answered William.
"Poor Brederode!" exclaimed the Count generously. "He was brave and loyal, and now all his schemes have failed. I think he will die of it—I left him creeping to Germany, a disappointed man."
"Leave him; he is happier than some better men," said the Prince. "And to our affairs. I too have been enrolling an army—a poor thing too, refugees, mercenaries—but something."
The two brothers looked at each other with a keen and flashing glance.
"You will invade the Netherlands?" asked Louis eagerly.
"If I can get the money, I will," answered the Prince, and he spoke quite simply, as if it was not in the least a wonderful feat to even contemplate—this marching against the finest army in the world with a handful of raw recruits and mercenaries.
"Ah, the money!" sighed Louis. He too was of an heroic temper, he too took the tremendous task simply; but he was daunted by the mention of what had completely checked his own gallant efforts.
"We need," said William, speaking with a precision which showed that he had well studied the subject, "at least two hundred thousand crowns. There was," he added, with a smile, "a time when I could have raised as much from my own estates—but not now!"
"It is not so much," remarked Louis hopefully.