“If I had known in the least or suspected that he was not what he ought to be in the service of My Lords the States and of your princely Grace and for the welfare and tranquillity of the land, I should have been well on my guard against letting myself in the least into any kind of communication with him whatever.”

The reader has seen how steadily and frankly the Advocate had kept Langerac as well as Caron informed of passing events, and how little concealment he made of his views in regard to the Synod, the Waartgelders, and the respective authority of the States-General and States-Provincial.  Not only had Langerac no reason to suspect that Barneveld was not what he ought to be, but he absolutely knew the contrary from that most confidential correspondence with him which he was now so abjectly repudiating.  The Advocate, in a protracted constitutional controversy, had made no secret of his views either officially or privately.  Whether his positions were tenable or flimsy, they had been openly taken.

“What is more,” proceeded the Ambassador, “had I thought that any account ought to be made of what I wrote to him concerning the sovereignty of the Provinces, I should for a certainty not have failed to advise your Grace of it above all.”

He then, after profuse and maudlin protestations of his most dutiful zeal all the days of his life for “the service, honour, reputation, and contentment of your princely Grace,” observed that he had not thought it necessary to give him notice of such idle and unfounded matters, as being likely to give the Prince annoyance and displeasure.  He had however always kept within himself the resolution duly to notify him in case he found that any belief was attached to the reports in Paris.  “But the reports,” he said, “were popular and calumnious inventions of which no man had ever been willing or able to name to him the authors.”

The Ambassador’s memory was treacherous, and he had doubtless neglected to read over the minutes, if he had kept them, of his wonderful disclosures on the subject of the sovereignty before thus exculpating himself.  It will be remembered that he had narrated the story of the plot for conferring sovereignty upon Maurice not as a popular calumny flying about Paris with no man to father it, but he had given it to Barneveld on the authority of a privy councillor of France and of the King himself.  “His Majesty knows it to be authentic,” he had said in his letter.  That letter was a pompous one, full of mystery and so secretly ciphered that he had desired that his friend van der Myle, whom he was now deriding for his efforts in Paris to save his father-inlaw from his fate, might assist the Advocate in unravelling its contents.  He had now discovered that it had been idle gossip not worthy of a moment’s attention.

The reader will remember too that Barneveld, without attaching much importance to the tale, had distinctly pointed out to Langerac that the Prince himself was not implicated in the plot and had instructed the Ambassador to communicate the story to Maurice.  This advice had not been taken, but he had kept the perilous stuff upon his breast.  He now sought to lay the blame, if it were possible to do so, upon the man to whom he had communicated it and who had not believed it.