the Regent's work. He was still regarded both by the Duchess and by the
Calvinist party--although having the sympathies of neither,--as the only
man in the Netherlands who could control the rising tide of a national
revolt. He took care, said his enemies, that his conduct at Antwerp
should have every appearance of loyalty; but they insinuated that he was
a traitor from the beginning, who was insidiously fomenting the troubles
which he appeared to rebuke. No one doubted his genius, and all felt
or affected admiration at its display upon this critical occasion.
"The Prince of Orange is doing very great and notable services at Antwerp
to the King and to the country," said Assonleville. "That seignior is
very skilful in managing great affairs." Margaret of Parma wrote letters
to him fixed with the warmest gratitude, expressions of approbation, and
of wishes that he could both remain in Antwerp and return to assist her
in Brussels. Philip, too, with his own pen, addressed him a letter,
in which implicit confidence in the Prince's character was avowed, all
suspicion on the part of the Sovereign indignantly repudiated, earnest
thanks for his acceptance of the Antwerp mission uttered, and a distinct
refusal given to the earnest request made by Orange to resign his
offices. The Prince read or listened to all this commendation, and
valued it exactly at its proper worth. He knew it to be pure grimace.
He was no more deceived by it than if he had read the letter sent by
Margaret to Philip, a few weeks later, in which she expressed herself as
"thoroughly aware that it was the intention of Orange to take advantage
of the impending tumults, for the purpose of conquering the provinces
and of dividing the whole territory among himself and friends." Nothing
could be more utterly false than so vile and ridiculous a statement.

The course of the Prince had hitherto been, and was still, both
consistent and loyal. He was proceeding step by step to place the
monarch in the wrong, but the only art which he was using, was to plant