“It is very singular, monsieur, that you should come with any complaint, when it is I rather who have reason to be dissatisfied; and yet, you see, I do not complain.”

“Complain, sire, and in what respect?”

The king smiled bitterly.

“Will you blame me, monsieur,” he said, “if I should happen to entertain suspicions against a government which authorizes and protects international impertinence?”

“Sire!”

“I tell you,” resumed the king, exciting himself by a recollection of his own personal annoyance, rather than from political grounds, “that Holland is a land of refuge for all who hate me, and especially for all who malign me.”