Now she had spoken she sat very pale and distressed, but fixing him with her soft brown eyes ardently. He flushed, and seemed much moved. "That you should need to ask——" he began, then checked himself. "I promise," he said. "For your own dear sake," she cried, "forgive me for speaking of this—but let people know you would not have him hurt——" He gazed at her intently. "This is hard for you," he replied. "I could not go without your sanction and your help——" He broke off again. Speech, which had always seemed inadequate to him, now seemed to merely travesty his feelings. She too was silent; she had lowered her eyes and seemed to be thinking deeply. The Prince studied her with an almost painful intensity. She was so lovely, so gracious, so sweet, so high souled ... he remembered how he had disliked and despised her, treated her with neglect, then indifference, made no effort to please or win her; and yet she, during the ten years of their marriage, had never from the first failed in obedience, sweetness, self-abnegation, nor once faltered from a passionate devotion to his interests, an unchanging belief in him, and now, for him, she was doing violence to her own heart and setting herself in active opposition against her father, a tremendous thing for such a nature to bring itself to. As he gazed at her fair youth, pale with anxiety for him, he felt she was the greatest triumph of his life, and her love an undeserved miracle. And there came to his mind a certain conversation that he had had with Sir William Temple in a sunny garden at Nymwegen before his marriage. He remembered that the Englishman had smiled at his scornful talk of the Princess, and had said—"Do not despise good women because there are so many of them——" Mary suddenly moved and rose. The sun had parted the loose clouds and a fine ray fell through the tall window and shone in her bright hair and satin skirt. His thoughts were scattered by her movement; he rose also. She smiled at him. "How kind you are to me," she said, trembling, and very low. "Dear God!" he exclaimed softly, as if he was mocked. "In what way?" "In giving me so much more of your company of late," answered Mary simply. The Prince looked at her strangely. "Women are wonderful," he said humbly. CHAPTER XIV STORMS The long sand-dunes about the village of Scheveningen were covered with spectators to the number of several thousands, comprising nearly the entire population of The Hague, several strangers, refugees from other parts of Holland, and many French, German, and English; they were principally women, children, and old men, or those in the sober attire of merchants, clerks, servants, or shopkeepers. One single object seemed to animate these people; they were all utterly silent, and all directed their gaze in one direction—that of the sea.