THE ENGLISH AMBASSADOR
"M. D'Albeville?" echoed the Landgrave.
"It can be none other, Highness," answered William, with energy. "No
one else was privy to my Lord Sunderland his part----"
M. Fagel gave a quick exclamation.
"He knoweth that?"
"Yes--he scenteth it," said the Stadtholder grimly. "And he hath a
pretty idea of the preparations, only he doth not guess either their
magnitude nor their forwardness."
He seated himself, and the others took their places again. There was, in
the whole assembly, a breathless air of expectation and excitement. The
room was full of steady mellow sunshine, which brought out every detail
of the persons of the gentlemen about the walnut table and glimmered in
the fair hair of M. de Lunenburgh, who sat facing the window.
The Stadtholder glanced round these intent faces and took off his
gloves, unclasped his cloak, and said, in a passionate voice, directly
addressing the Grand Pensionary--
"M. Fagel, the design is to frighten the States, by declaring that any
design against England will at once provoke France into an attack on the
Provinces."
M. Fagel was silent. This stroke was unexpected and tremendous. If
Louis fell on the frontiers of the States, Their High Mightinesses would
certainly not permit the Prince and the army to sail for England.
"You know my opinion," continued William, looking at the Spaniard, "that
if M. de Castagnana can but keep Ostend, Mons, and Namur till the
spring, I shall then have settled this English business, and be able to
return with a sufficient force to drive the French out of Flanders."
"I think," said M. Fagel, "that the States would not take the risks, and
this threat from France will have a very ill effect among the common
people."
"And," added M. Dyckfelt, who had primary charge of English affairs, "if
M. D'Avaux and M. Skelton succeed in undeceiving King James as to the
true design of M. de Sunderland that would be a shrewd blow----"
"One which shall not be delivered," said the Prince firmly. "M. de
Sunderland is the one man who can keep the foreign intelligence from the
King, and he stayeth in office. M. D'Albeville is a dirty tool, but
there is more use to be got out of him----"
"But he, Your Highness, you say hath betrayed us?" questioned M. de
Hesse.
"And now he can betray them," said William. "By Heaven, Highness, do
you think we, at this stage of our endeavours, shall trip over an insect
like this D'Albeville?"
He finished his sentence with a smile at M. de Hesse. He was himself of
a German House, a German Prince and a Grandee of the Holy Empire, and
had alway an affection for and a powerful influence over the Landgraves,
Electors, and Princes who made up the German confederacy.
M. de Hesse responded--
"We are, as ever, ready to do what Your Highness thinketh fit in this
juncture."
"Ah!" answered William warmly. "I should do ill to fail with such
friends----"
"Should we not," asked M. Bentinck, "consult with some of the English at
The Hague?"
"No," said the Stadtholder firmly. "They have none of them any
conception of continental affairs, and at present are engaged in
disputing over the form of the Declaration, for they seem already to be
split into very decided parties."
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.
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----"
"You will deliver the message," interrupted William grimly; "but you
will not open the eyes of His Majesty until I bid you."
The Irishman clutched his hand on his breast, with a contortion of
terror and despair on his face. He had been playing fast and loose
between France and Holland so long that he scarcely knew how far he had
betrayed one to the other, only that of late he had kept the greater
faith with the Prince, who terrorized him, as did all the English
envoys, except those he won by friendship, such as Temple and Sidney.
M. D'Albeville was now convinced that, in view of the coming French
action, the Prince could not succeed, and he wished fervently that he
was before James or Louis that he might gain a good price by telling
what he knew of William's plans. He already regretted having come
before His Highness, yet he had not dared act without warning him, and
had been in some hopes of persuading him of his own faith and use.
Disappointed in this, he groaned aloud, began a feeble sentence that
died on his lips, and cast a furtive glance for a way of escape.
This did not fail of notice by the Prince.
"Bentinck," he said, "look to the door."
That nobleman stepped quietly in front of it, and the wretched
Ambassador shrilled a protest.
"Doth Your Highness intend violence?"
"I intend to make use of you, Monsieur!" cried the Prince. "We are men
in earnest. Do you think that we should allow you to in any way
incommode us?"
"It will be Tower Hill for me!" cried M. D'Albeville. "I dare keep
silent no longer--if my Lord President goeth, what protection have I
got?"
"M. de Sunderland shall not go until I have sailed from Helvoetsluys,"
said William. "How much hath M. D'Avaux promised you for telling
everything to the Court of St. James?"
M. D'Albeville shrugged, but obviously brightened as the talk changed to
money.
"You are quite mistaken, Your Highness----"
"How much was it?" interrupted William.
"Naturally, if I could help M. D'Avaux--I should expect some
consideration for the trouble----"
The Prince for a moment took his great eyes from the Irishman and
addressed a rapid sentence in Dutch to M. Dyckfelt, who at once went to
the Chinese bureau at the side of the fireplace and unlocked a drawer.
"I must deliver the message to the States," said M. D'Albeville, between
cringing and defiance. He was really afraid of what might have happened
in England--Sunderland might be in disgrace, and the whole intrigue
discovered by James, for all he knew.
"It is my wish that you should," answered William. "It will come very
pat with M. D'Avaux _his_ message."
M. Dyckfelt put on the table a gold standish, a sheet of paper, and a
casket, which last the Prince kept before himself.
"M. le Marquis," he said, "you will do me one more service--you will
write to His Majesty that his suspicions are quite unfounded, that my
preparations, you are assured, are against Denmark, and that no credit
is to be given to the tales of M. Skelton and M. D'Avaux about M. de
Sunderland."
The Ambassador's face became absolutely blanched; he moistened his lips,
and murmured, "I dare not--I dare not," between dry breaths.
"You dare not refuse," answered William. "I could so expose you that
not a court in Europe would employ you. Besides, it is enough that I
command you. Sit down and write."
M. D'Albeville came slowly nearer the table.
"I would do anything to serve Your Highness, but not this--it is too
late--it has gone too far----"
"Write," said the Stadtholder briefly. "I pay well, you know that."
M. D'Albeville sat down in the chair opposite the paper and standish.
"But His Majesty will learn from others, and I shall be recalled and"
... he complained miserably ... "death ... treason is death. Oh, my
God, I cannot do----"
"M. le Marquis," interrupted William, "His Majesty is simple enough to
trust you, and for the rest I protect those whom I use."
M. D'Albeville shivered and took up the pen. He had, and knew it, no
chance with the Prince, whose potent personality always completely
mastered his. He dared not, from some sheer unnameable fear, refuse or
resist, but the damp stood on his brow and his heart was cramped at the
thought of the possible vengeance of the master whom he was betraying.
"You know what to write," said William. "Put it in your own hand and
your own style--you do not, I think, use cipher----"
Tears of terror, rage, and mortification stood in the Irishman's eyes.
He had come to excuse himself from a service that had become too
dangerous, and found himself overpowered into going still greater
lengths. He could not bring himself to write the letter which would
eventually cut him off from all hope of pardon from England.
"He shall write," said the Prince, in a low tone, to M. de Hesse, "if I
have to hold a pistol to his head the while."
And he came softly round behind the Ambassador's chair.
"Gentlemen," complained M. D'Albeville, "is this a way to treat the
representative of His Britannic Majesty?"
The Landgrave and M. de Lunenburgh closed nearer round him.
M. D'Albeville looked up at the grave faces bent on him, and began to
write.
"Make haste," said the Prince, drawing a round filigree watch from his
pocket and glancing at the time.
The Ambassador groaned and drove his pen the faster; in a few moments
the sheet of paper was covered, sanded, and signed.
"There is my ruin, Highness," said M. D'Albeville dramatically, handing
it with shaking fingers.
"Men like you are never ruined," returned the Prince. He glanced over
the letter, ill spelt, ill expressed, but all that Sunderland would need
to quiet the fears of his master.
The Prince folded it across, and M. D'Albeville held out his hand.
"By your leave, M. le Marquis, I will post this." William opened the
casket M. Dyckfelt had brought from the Chinese bureau, and took out a
couple of little linen bags, which he slid along the table towards the
crumpled figure of the Ambassador; the glint of gold could be seen
between the wide meshes. "The audience is over," he added dryly.
M. D'Albeville got to his feet and began to pick up the money and thrust
it into the huge flap pockets of his silver-branched coat, making the
while little sounds of protest, and shaking his head dismally.
"Listen," said the Prince vigorously. "You will give your message to
the States to-morrow, and you will send no letters of any kind to
England until I request you to----"
"I am always the servant of Your Highness," said M. D'Albeville with a
dreary submission, yet with a kind of satisfaction in the bribe that lay
heavy in his pockets; the Prince always paid better than M. D'Avaux,
kept short by M. de Louvois, who disliked him.
"All packets leaving our ports are watched," remarked William. "So do
not try to send any secret messages to England."
The Ambassador picked up his white-plumed hat, that had fallen to the
floor, then came towards the Prince with a humble gesture, as if he
would have kissed his hand; but William drew back with a haughty disgust
that brought a blush even to M. D'Albeville's brazen cheek. He withdrew
backwards, M. Bentinck opened the door for him, and closed it after he
had departed, bowing.
"By Heaven!" burst out the Landgrave, "to think that a great nation
should send as representative such a rascal!"
"His Majesty hath always been unlucky, Highness," answered William, "in
the gentlemen he sendeth to The Hague. To use such tools!" he added
impatiently; "but I think we have checkmated M. D'Avaux.--M. Fagel," he
turned swiftly to the Grand Pensionary, "you see your part? The two
messages will come the same day, and you are to protest that there must
be some secret alliance between France and England that the States have
been kept in the dark about, and that we can give no answer till that is
explained; you must feign alarm which will further inflame the people
against France and her designs, and so we may provoke King James into
repudiating the French alliance and offending His Christian Majesty."
Having thus indicated the policy that his genius had instantly
conceived, he paused with a little cough, then laughed, which he seldom
did save when he had discomfited some one. He laughed now, thinking of
M. D'Avaux, and there was a malicious note in it that would not have
pleased that diplomat to hear.
The German princes laughed also, in a more good-natured fashion, and the
whole company moved from their places with a sense that a final resolve
had been reached.
"Come, gentlemen," said the Prince in his tired voice, "I think we have
earned our dinner."
He handed to M. Fagel the letter written by M. D'Albeville.