So were gathered in this small, plain room representatives of the most of the members of the huge coalition which the formidable Stadtholder had laboured so long to combine against France; and M. D’Albeville, standing for England, equally precious both to these allies and to Louis, instinctively drew back a little, as one who has stepped among silent enemies. He was a slight Irishman, and had been handsome, but dissipation, poverty, and meanness had given him a haggard and livid appearance; he wore gaudy, but tarnished, finery, and a huge red-brown peruke that hung in knots of heavy curls either side his sharp face. "I desired a private audience, Highness," he said, speaking in perfect French. "We are private here, M. le Marquis," answered William, handing the packet of papers back to M. de Hesse. "And we are glad that you have come, for we had business to discuss with you." He seated himself at that, and M. D’Albeville came to the opposite side of the table, so directly facing him; the others remained standing. "You," said William, with energy, "have been trying to fool me, M. le Marquis. You have seen fit to convey warnings to the court of England and to M. D’Avaux." The look of fear that was never quite absent from the Irishman’s face deepened; he seemed to shrink into his stiff buckram and brocade clothes. "So God help me——" he began. "Oh, enough of your oaths!" cried the Prince, in a sudden burst of fury. "Do you think I have time to listen to your cursed excuses? How much have you told that damned Frenchman?" So direct, terrible, and sincere was his passion that the object of it retreated towards the door, and even the spectators were awed. "I protest," answered the Ambassador, dry-lipped, "I have told nothing. I have sent reassuring messages to His Majesty, as Your Highness knoweth——" "Were you not well enough paid for them," demanded William fiercely, "that you must go cry your wares in the French market?" "Monseigneur, you are misinformed——" The Prince cut him short. "M. D’Avaux hath been told of M. de Sunderland’s part—you told him. Hath King James been warned also?" "I came to tell Your Highness so," stammered M. D’Albeville. "Not by me, God knoweth; but I had this morning a message——" "From whom?" "Not from my Lord Sunderland—_direct from His Majesty_ bidding me ask the States the reason of the preparations of Your Highness——" The Stadtholder glanced at his friends; he was still taut with passion. Dealing with mean creatures such as this roused that rare fury in him that brought him out of himself. "So now you are afraid, eh?" he asked. "You are not quite so sure which is the winning side, M. le Marquis——" M. D’Albeville came nearer the table. Another fear conquered his fear of the terrible Prince. "I cannot go on," he said feverishly. "I dare not. I can help you no more, Monsieur. I must deliver that message, and I must tell the King everything——"