Ere long, a hasty recall to Oxford roused all the Prince's indignation. True, the order was revoked next day, but Rupert was none the less furious. How was he to effect anything of importance if his plans were to be interrupted and frustrated at Digby's whim? He would not endure, he wrote to Richmond, the discussion of all his proceedings by a mere civilian Council. The Duke strove to pacify him in a long and, as usual, incoherent letter. "You may perceive that no Oxford motion, if rightly represented, could move any cause of jealousy of a desseigne here either to forestall your judgement or prelimett yr command. I have bine present at most of the consultations; (till yesterday some occasions made me absent, and of that daies' worke my Lord Biron will give the best account); and in all I could ever discerne the proceeding hath bine to propound only by way of question alle thinges of moment, which were to be attended, or acted, by you." The recent recall to Oxford Richmond owned an exception to this rule, but as regarded other matters, he concluded; {141} "I think I could not have mist myselfe so much if other had been to be seen, or where the King's service, and my ancient respect for Rupert, (which time works no such earthy effects upon as to decay), call for my observation, that my senses could be deceived, or I not attentive. The most that was treated was when Will Legge was here, and in his presence, who certainly is a safe man to consult with in your interests. And the furthest discourse was but discourse!"[38] The King also wrote on the same day, promising that, whenever possible, his nephew should be _consulted_ rather than _commanded_; and asserting with gentle dignity, "Indeed I have this advantage of you, that I have not yet mistaken you in anything as you have me."[39]