I Will Maintain — Text and Context

ry a shock. He sat silent, sucking his pipe, not wishing to admit that he was startled.

The Frenchman leant back calmly in his chair.

“The whole feeling of the country is against M. de Witt,” he continued. “You must have seen it.”

It occurred to Florent, in a vague, impersonal sort of way, that the Grand Pensionary’s secretary had no right to be listening to these things, or even to be speaking at all to a Frenchman intriguing for his Ambassador; but he told himself that he served success, and success did not seem to lie with M. de Witt.

“Yet we are at peace at home and abroad,” he remarked, to probe the other.

“You think of the Triple Alliance,” he said.

“True--only signed this year,” returned Florent. “Still there is always France.”

“Also do not be too sure of England,” said St. Croix. “Despite the Triple Alliance--she stands very well with France--I could tell you something----”

Florent Van Mander looked him straight in the face.

“Do you mean that France and England might combine for the restoration of the Prince of Orange?”

The Frenchman lifted his eyebrows.

“Upon conditions--they might. If there were a war what could M. de Witt do?”

Van Mander thought a moment.

“He beat England in ’56--but now----”

“He could do nothing against France--that is obvious.”

“Yes, it is obvious,” admitted Florent.

“And the prospect is threatening.”

“Well, you see the part the Prince will play?”

There was a little pause, then the Dutchman said slowly--

“He is King Louis’ cousin and King Charles’ nephew----”

“You take me,” replied St. Croix, “the Prince is related to their Majesties--and he has no cause to love M. de Witt.”

Florent drew a quick breath.

“You think he … would work for France?”

“Can there be a doubt of it?” smiled St. Croix.

There was no answer from Florent. He laid down his pipe and sat still, considering.

Rumours, whispers, hints were taking at last tangible form: this young prisoner, pupil of M. de Witt, was to be the instrument to deliver the country into the rapacious hands of France. Well, there was little cause to wonder; indeed he had almost guessed it. The Prince had, as St. Croix said, little cause to love either M. de Witt or his Republic.

He raised his grey eyes and looked into the Frenchman’s face--

“These are strange things to say to a Dutchman and a servant of M. de Witt.”

St. Croix answered quickly--

“But you serve success.”

At these words, that he did not recall having ever uttered to this man, Florent was again silent. It was perfectly true; he was at the beginning of his career and ambitious; he had no desire to follow a falling cause. The Republic was no more to him than the Prince, he told himself; and there was no reason that he should not, out of the crisis that threatened, earn a place and distinction for himself.

St. Croix observed him closely. He was not afraid of having said too much, for he had read his man, some years before, in Guelders.

“It seems I serve the wrong master now,” said Florent at last, with a grim set to his mouth. “I must not look out for fortune in the train of M. de Witt.”

The Frenchman answered slowly and with meaning--

“There is fortune, and great fortune, to be found in the service of M. de Witt, by men like you who know how to look for it.…”

Once more Florent was silent. He kept his eyes fixed on the dark surface of the table, where the reflected lights of the candles glimmered. He thought that he understood.

“The Prince,” continued St. Croix, “and the power behind the Prince, can be very well served by one in the pay of M. de Witt.”

Florent was now sure that he understood. Not by being loyal to his master, but by betraying him was he to satisfy his ambitions. The way of success lay not with the Grand Pensionary--but with the Prince, who was another name for France.

For the moment his instinct was to resent this calm suggestion that he was the willing instrument of foreign intrigue, but quick reflection showed him the folly of it. St. Croix knew him; some time past, in Guelders, he had taken money for such information of Dutch politics as he could command. His hesitation took another form.

“How am I to know that this Prince of yours is worth serving--at a risk?” he said.

“You know that France is worth serving.”

“Buat died,” remarked Florent dryly, “for tampering with France.”