Great Britain -- History -- Revolution of 1688 -- Fiction; James II, King of England, 1633-1701 -- Fiction
"In a few months I shall be with her," he added, and his voice was so
weak and shaken that Sunderland could scarcely catch the words.
"Doth not Your Majesty believe in predestination?"
William was silent.
"Doth not Your Majesty believe that God hath some further use for you?"
The King answered simply and with infinite sadness—
"I think He hath had from me all the work I am capable of."
"No," said Sunderland. "Your greatest tasks, your greatest victories
lie before you. William of Nassau will not die while the battle rageth.
God, who put you in the vanguard of the world, will not let you fall out
with the deserters."
The King drew a sharp breath; he seemed considerably moved and agitated;
his dark eyes turned to Sunderland.
"What is it to you whether I fail or no?" he asked wildly.
The Earl smiled.
"I stand for England, sire. Besides that, I always believed in you, and
you are the only man in Europe worth serving."
William flushed.
"You speak very boldly."
"I spoke boldly to Your Majesty in ’77. I said to you then, you are the
Prince for England—your moment will come. The little things, sir, often
clog, and hamper, and bewilder, but in the end the big things win—as
Your Majesty will win, though through wearisome ways. Sir, kingdoms are
large stakes. Sir, to be a champion of a creed is a great
responsibility, and he who taketh it up must forgo the grief of common
men, for surely his tears are demanded as well as his blood."
William sat motionless, with his hand to his side.
"You think I can take it all up again?" he asked, in his hoarse,
strained voice. "My God! I think it is too late."
Sunderland turned and whispered something to Somers, who left the room;
to the King he said—
"I entreat Your Majesty see a young officer new come from Flanders."
CHAPTER II
THE KING IS NEEDED
Sunderland remained by the silent King, on whom he kept his clear,
strong glance; Portland and the beautiful Romney went into the
antechamber, where they could speak freely.
"What charlatan’s trick is this?" said the Earl, in a low, angry voice.
"Who is this officer from Flanders? It is strange to hear my Lord
Sunderland mouth these godly sentiments—he, a man merely fighting for a
place——"
"Yet he spoke," admitted Romney, "and we were silent. And he roused the
King. If it be mere self-interest it had the effect of sincerity."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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