oach of the inevitable hour. But the great king's days were
numbered. Headaches and shivering fits returned on him almost daily. He
still rode, and even hunted; but he had no longer that firm seat, or
that perfect command of the bridle, for which he had once been renowned.
Still all his care was for the future. The filial respect and tenderness
of Albemarle had been almost a necessary of life to him. But it was of
importance that Heinsius should be fully informed both as to the whole
plan of the next campaign, and as to the state of the preparations.
Albemarle was in full possession of the king's views on these subjects.
He was therefore sent to the Hague. Heinsius was at that time suffering
from indisposition, which was indeed a trifle when compared with the
maladies under which William was sinking. But in the nature of William
there was none of that selfishness which is the too common vice of
invalids. On the 20th of February he sent to Heinsius a letter, in which
he did not even allude to his own sufferings and infirmities. 'I am,'
he said, 'infinitely concerned to learn that your health is not yet
quite re-established. May God be pleased to grant you a speedy recovery.
I am unalterably your good friend, WILLIAM.' These were the last lines
of that long correspondence.

"On the 20th of February, William was ambling on a favourite horse named
Sorrel through the park of Hampton Court. He urged his horse to strike
into a gallop just at the spot where a mole had been at work. Sorrel
stumbled on the mole-hill, and went down on his knees. The king fell
off, and broke his collar-bone. The bone was set, and he returned to
Kensington in his coach. The jolting of the rough roads of that time
made it necessary to reduce the fracture again. To a young and vigorous
man such an accident would have been a trifle; but the frame of William
was not in a condition to bear even the slightest shock. He felt that
his time was short, and grieved, with a grief such as only noble spirits
feel, to think that he must leave his work but half finished. It was
possible that he might still live until one of his plans should be
carried into execution. He had long known that the relation in which
England and Scotland stood to each other was at best precarious, and
often unfriendly, and that it might be doubted whether, in an estimate
of the British power, the resources of the smaller country ought not to
be deducted from those of the larger. Recent ev