M. van Keppel got to his feet and stood his full splendid height. "M. de Vaudemont saith, sire, that if Your Majesty would come to lead us there is no question that the allies might do more than they have ever done." He paused a moment, then continued, "M. de Boufflers is guarding the banks of the Sambre; a great army is collected from the Lys to the Scheldt. M. de Villeroy, they say, is to fix his headquarters at Tournay; but the allies are ready to take the field—operations could begin next month. M. de Vaudemont and M. Heinsius have written so to Your Majesty." William glanced at the pile of unopened correspondence; he flushed and looked again at M. van Keppel. "Sire," said the young soldier proudly, "there is Fleurus, Steinkirk, and Landen to avenge. I rode past Namur a week ago and saw the Bourbon lilies flying above the keep." "Namur!" repeated William, and his eyes widened. The loss of Namur had been the worst disaster of all the disasters of the war. William had perhaps never known such humiliation as when the great fortress fell before his eyes. "M. de Vauban," continued Joost van Keppel, "hath added to the fortifications of M. Kohorn and declared the town impregnable; they have fixed a vaunting notice over the gate defying us to retake it—but, sire, it could be done." "There spoke a soldier!" flashed the King. "That spirit in my men wrested back the three Provinces in ’74." "That spirit is alive still, sire—they who drove back the French then could take Namur now." William looked at Sunderland. "Would your English be pleased," he asked, "if we took Namur?" "There is nothing would so delight the people as a great victory in the Low Countries," answered that nobleman. "So they defy us," said the King. "And Namur is even more important than it was; it must be the strongest fortress in Europe. Certainly it is a prize worth while." M. van Keppel spoke again. "M. de Maine is to be sent with M. de Villeroy." "So they send M. de Maine to fight us, do they?" exclaimed the King. "We should be the equal of M. de Maine." He looked kindly and steadily at M. van Keppel. "My child," he said, "you are a good patriot, and that is the best thing in the world to be. We must give you a regiment. We hope to see you in Flanders." He smiled, and the young soldier, who had been taught all his life to regard him as the first of living men, bowed, overwhelmed, with tears of pleasure in his eyes. William gave him his hand and Joost van Keppel kissed it reverently, then, at a delicate sign from Sunderland, retired, followed by the Lord Keeper. The King sat very quiet, looking into the fire. Portland came and stood behind his chair. "Will you go out to the war?" he asked. "Yes," said William simply. Sunderland darted a sideway look at Portland, who flushed. "I am indeed glad of that," he said sternly. "That is a gallant youngster," said the King. "I ever liked him. I will keep him about me; he is a pleasant creature."