"Only this, that Your Highness and your creatures may deceive the King of England into thinking it is against Denmark and the Corsairs that all these preparations are being made, but you cannot so deceive the King of France." "And yet," returned the Prince, "I thought His Majesty gave but a cold attention to your alarms." This, accompanied by a pointed smile, told M. D’Avaux that William was quite well aware that it had not been so easy to rouse Louis to a sense of his danger. The Frenchman bit his lip; he had a master-stroke in reserve. "Your Highness is a very able Prince," he said, on an oblique line of attack, "but my master pays well and is well served. I know who, under so many different names and pretences, purchaseth and hireth transport boats in so many different ports; I know who ordereth the bakers of Amsterdam to make biscuit, the saddlers to make bridles and saddles—why all the artillery is leaving the towns and coming down to the coasts—why magazines of hay are waiting in all the seaports, and why English noblemen are living furtively at The Hague." He paused and looked narrowly at the Stadtholder, who, he was confident, must be taken aback at this knowledge of his plans; but the Prince was so immovable that the wild thought occurred to M. D’Avaux—is it really Denmark or his own country, as King James contends? "I cannot conceive why you come to me with this," said William. "To warn you, Monseigneur." "Of what?" flashed the Prince. "Of France," answered M. D’Avaux impressively. William drew a deep breath. "You should know better than to seek to frighten me, M. D’Avaux. I am not by nature timorous." "I warn Your Highness," repeated the Ambassador. "I remind you that you are not a sovereign Prince." "I rule a sovereign state, Monsieur." "The first magistrate of a republic, Monseigneur, cannot behave as a king. Since Your Highness will give me no satisfaction, I shall go to the States." "You will do as you wish," answered William; "but you are, nevertheless, perfectly well aware that I rule the States." M. D’Avaux bowed. "Give me credit for that discernment—the card I play is not an appeal from Your Highness to the States——" "What then?" The Frenchman moved a little farther back, still in a courtier’s attitude, with his hat in his hand, looking intently at the Prince, who stood on the steps of the sundial with the violet daisies brushing his cloak and boots. "Mr. Skelton hath prevailed on M. de Louvois to command me to say to the States that there is such friendship between His Majesty and King James that any attack on Britain would be regarded in the same light as an attack on France. That," added M. D’Avaux softly, "may make the States see their interests as different from those of Your Highness." William gave not the least sign of surprise or confusion. "So it is Mr. Skelton’s advice to endeavour to frighten the States?" he remarked.