Great Britain -- History -- Revolution of 1688 -- Fiction; James II, King of England, 1633-1701 -- Fiction
The colour receded from Mary’s face. She glanced in a half frightened
way at her husband.
"Oh," she murmured, "I wished to speak to you—but it can wait—for I
suppose Admiral Herbert his business is ... important."
There was a tenseness of containment among the three of them, as if they
were all aware of great events and would not speak of them.
"If the Princess is informed——" began Arthur Herbert.
The Stadtholder interrupted.
"The Princess knoweth everything, Mr. Herbert."
Arthur Herbert betrayed the slightest surprise, covered instantly by a
ready turn of speech.
"Her Highness will understand, then, the importance of my business."
He bowed again, very courteous, to Mary, who answered instantly—
"I will not hinder you, Mr. Herbert, not for an instant."
The Prince looked at her.
"Send for me when I am free, Madame."
With that they both saluted her, and turned into the room at the right
of the vestibule.
Mary stood motionless in the twilight, staring at the spot where the
English messenger had stood, peered at the closed door that concealed
him, then went softly and, it seemed, fearfully away.
CHAPTER VI
THE LETTERS OF MR. HERBERT
When Admiral Herbert found himself closeted with William of Orange, he
had some eagerness in observing that Prince whose name was so much in
the mouths of men, and who had grown to be a kind of lodestar to
Protestant England.
The first thing that impressed a courtier of the Stewarts, used to a
lavish and extravagant habit of living, was that there was no splendour
in the plain dark room, the stern furnishing of which seemed almost
parsimony in a royal Prince, nor any manner of display about the
Stadtholder himself, who, with his own hands, shifted the candles in the
brass sticks from the mantelshelf to the table, and set open the window
on the summer woods.
Arthur Herbert looked keenly at him; he had dropped his hat and mantle
on to a chair, and his person was fully revealed in the steady red
candle glow.
He was at this time in his thirty-seventh year, at the height of his
reputation: the most respected statesman, one of the most feared
generals and powerful rulers in Europe, the head of the nation which was
supreme in trade and maritime dominion, the foremost champion of the
reformed religion, first Prince of the blood in England, the close ally
and councillor of the Empire, of Spain, the Northern States, Germany,
and, as it was whispered, of the Pope, the leader of the English
opposition, and husband to the heiress of that country, the rallying
point for the discontents and indignations of all those whom the King of
France had injured or the King of England put out of humour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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