“Yes,” he replied, “if the judges permit it.”

“Remind me to send one of the clergymen to the judges with the request,” said his master.

The faithful John, than whom no servant or friend could be more devoted, seized the occasion, with the thrift and stoicism of a true Hollander, to suggest that his lord might at the same time make some testamentary disposition in his favour.

“Tell my wife and children,” said the Advocate, “that they must console each other in mutual love and union.  Say that through God’s grace I am perfectly at ease, and hope that they will be equally tranquil.  Tell my children that I trust they will be loving and friendly to their mother during the short time she has yet to live.  Say that I wish to recommend you to them that they may help you to a good situation either with themselves or with others.  Tell them that this was my last request.”

He bade him further to communicate to the family the messages sent that night through Walaeus by the Stadholder.

The valet begged his master to repeat these instructions in presence of the clergyman, or to request one of them to convey them himself to the family.  He promised to do so.

“As long as I live,” said the grateful servant, “I shall remember your lordship in my prayers.”

“No, John,” said the Advocate, “that is Popish.  When I am dead, it is all over with prayers.  Pray for me while I still live.  Now is the time to pray.  When one is dead, one should no longer be prayed for.”

La Motte came in.  Barneveld repeated his last wishes exactly as he desired them to be communicated to his wife and children.  The preacher made no response.  “Will you take the message?” asked the prisoner.  La Motte nodded, but did not speak, nor did he subsequently fulfil the request.

Before five o’clock the servant heard the bell ring in the apartment of the judges directly below the prison chamber, and told his master he had understood that they were to assemble at five o’clock.

“I may as well get up then,” said the Advocate; “they mean to begin early, I suppose.  Give me my doublet and but one pair of stockings.”

He was accustomed to wear two or three pair at a time.

He took off his underwaistcoat, saying that the silver bog which was in one of the pockets was to be taken to his wife, and that the servant should keep the loose money there for himself.  Then he found an opportunity to whisper to him, “Take good care of the papers which are in the apartment.”  He meant the elaborate writings which he had prepared during his imprisonment and concealed in the tapestry and within the linings of the chair.

As his valet handed him the combs and brushes, he said with a smile, “John, this is for the last time.”

When he was dressed, he tried, in rehearsal of the approaching scene, to pull over his eyes the silk skull-cap which he usually wore under his hat.  Finding it too tight he told the valet to put the nightcap in his pocket and give it him when he should call for it.  He then swallowed a half-glass of wine with a strengthening cordial in it, which he was wont to take.