M. Fagel and M. Dyckfelt both considered it a mistake not to more fully trust the English nobles, but both were aware that the Prince’s distrust of that nation (but too well founded on experience) was not to be shaken. The German Princes and Ministers were willing enough to keep the threads of the coalition as much as possible in their own hands, and none of them could believe that a youth like Lord Shrewsbury and an eccentric rake like Lord Mordaunt could be of use in serious counsels. The envoy of the Elector of Hanover proceeded to lay before William the plans for the fortifications of the Rhine which the Germans had agreed to defend with troops, replacing those withdrawn by the States, in the same way as M. de Castagnana had engaged to fortify the frontier of Brabant on the side of Flanders. William surveyed the plans and listened to the explanations, in which the Landgrave and M. de Lunenburgh eagerly joined, with an elated satisfaction which even the stroke about to be dealt by M. D’Avaux could not destroy. His spirits, as ever, rose with increasing difficulties and dangers, and after having to listen to the thousand, to him, paltry arguments of the English party leaders, this talk of the real heart of affairs, the hand-to-hand grips with France, had a ringing pleasure for his ears. M. Fagel, withdrawn into the window embrasure, was speaking with William Bentinck, a tall, fair, and handsome man, of a quiet dignity, a few years older than the Stadtholder, and that Prince’s closest friend, of the probable effect of this move planned by the wit and watchfulness of Mr. Skelton and M. D’Avaux, when an usher entered to inform His Highness that the English Ambassador requested an immediate audience. William was roused at once from his maps and papers, and a movement of excitement silenced the low, serious voices. "M. D’Albeville!" exclaimed the Stadtholder. His eyes flashed, and he rose. "Conduct him here." As the usher left, all looked at the Prince. "Why should he come?" asked M. de Lunenburgh. William laid his hand affectionately on the German’s brown velvet sleeve. "My child," he said softly, "whatever he hath come for, we will turn him to our own uses." At this moment the English Ambassador entered, amid an absolute silence; he paused on the threshold and glanced at the men before him: the Stadtholder between M. de Lunenburgh, the Landgrave and the Hanoverian envoy at the opposite side of the dark circular walnut table; the Spaniard, very splendid in gold brocade that caught the sun, standing with his back to the hearth, and opposite him in the dazzling length of the window M. Bentinck with the two Dutch ministers.