"I can but assure Your Highness," said Captain Royston, "that throughout I have done nothing adverse to Your Highness's great cause, nor to his person, nor to the honor and faith I do hold them in."
"And is this all?" asked William.
"Before these gentlemen, sir," he replied, "it is all. But I hold the true fulness of the matter ever ready for your private ear."
"My private ear, sir," answered the Prince, "is like to be much abused if I give my closet for every traitor's subtile excuses."
"I offer none," said Royston, with the rigid pride of despair.
"And none," said His Highness, "save in this company, will I hear. Keep your tale, sir, for to-morrow's court-martial. You are under arrest. Your sword, Captain Royston. Lieutenant de Rondiniacque, see to it that this one at least do not escape." And then, as poor Ned slowly drew his sword, and tendered the hilt to the Prince, His Highness, waving it aside, signified to M. de Rondiniacque by a gesture that he should take it.
"'T is not such," he said, "that I have need of."
Which bitter speech came near to breaking down the restraint in which the man had held himself. I saw the blood fly to his face, the half-step forward, the hands clenched by his sides; I heard the one dread word on his lips. "God—!" he gasped, and again curbed himself.
"No words of heat, sir!" said the Prince. "I did once take you for my friend. Is mine the fault that you prove an enemy? Weigh well what defence you will make to-morrow; let me warn you that courts-martial in time of war are swift in procedure and deadly in sentence. Should such court hear from your lips no more than we have now heard, make your peace with God." And with that he would have left the room; but I, beside myself with terror, caught him by the arm, and tried to speak.
The Prince, however, shook me off, bidding me roughly not to court his notice; saying that this was not a court of justice nor of favor, but a camp; and that I was happy not to come within the purview of its jurisdiction.