“Indeed,” I answered, “I think that your loyalty, sir, is as strong as your courage!”
“And I trust that the latter does not need to be questioned, captain,” he blustered.
“It does not!” I replied, with I fear some of the contempt I felt for the man appearing in my voice. “But I will put your loyalty to the test. You have wine there,” I continued, stepping to the table, the whilst they watched me in silence. “As loyal subjects, therefore, you will not refuse to join me in drinking a toast.”
I slowly filled four glasses, three of which I placed in the centre of the table.
“Gentlemen,” I cried clearly, raising the fourth, “to the health of his Majesty, King William!”
For it may be ten seconds they sat silent. The room was very still. I gazed full at my lady where she stood upon the hearth. She was leaning slightly forward, her hands pressed against her bosom, watching the scene before her with fascinated eyes. It was a battle of our wills and I had won!
Suddenly the stout man stretched out a shaking hand.
“To the health of King William, sir!” he cried quickly, all the more anxious to make up for his first slight hesitation. “I desire no better toast.” And he drained his glass.
“Nor I also,” said the colonel more slowly. “To King William, sir! I wish him success in his campaign!”
But I noticed that he avoided meeting my lady’s eyes.