“Your very dear husband, father, father-in-law, and grandfather,

“Johnof Barneveld.”

It was thought strange that the judges should permit so simple and clear a statement, an argument in itself, to be forwarded.  The theory of his condemnation was to rest before the public on his confessions of guilt, and here in the instant of learning the nature of the sentence in a few hours to be pronounced upon him he had in a few telling periods declared his entire innocence.  Nevertheless the letter had been sent at once to its address.

So soon as this sad business had been disposed of, Anthony Walaeus returned.  The Advocate apologized to the preacher for his somewhat abrupt greeting on his first appearance.  He was much occupied and did not know him, he said, although he had often heard of him.  He begged him, as well as the provost-marshal, to join him at supper, which was soon brought.

Barneveld ate with his usual appetite, conversed cheerfully on various topics, and pledged the health of each of his guests in a glass of beer.  Contrary to his wont he drank at that repast no wine.  After supper he went out into the little ante-chamber and called his servant, asking him how he had been faring.  Now John Franken had just heard with grief unspeakable the melancholy news of his master’s condemnation from two soldiers of the guard, who had been sent by the judges to keep additional watch over the prisoner.  He was however as great a stoic as his master, and with no outward and superfluous manifestations of woe had simply implored the captain-at-arms, van der Meulen, to intercede with the judges that he might be allowed to stay with his lord to the last.  Meantime he had been expressly informed that he was to say nothing to the Advocate in secret, and that his master was not to speak to him in a low tone nor whisper in his ear.

When the Advocate came out into the ante-chamber and looking over his shoulder saw the two soldiers he at once lowered his voice.

“Hush-speak low,” he whispered; “this is too cruel.”  John then informed him of van der Meulen’s orders, and that the soldiers had also been instructed to look to it sharply that no word was exchanged between master and man except in a loud voice.

“Is it possible,” said the Advocate, “that so close an inspection is held over me in these last hours?  Can I not speak a word or two in freedom?  This is a needless mark of disrespect.”

The soldiers begged him not to take their conduct amiss as they were obliged strictly to obey orders.

He returned to his chamber, sat down in his chair, and begged Walaeus to go on his behalf to Prince Maurice.

“Tell his Excellency,” said he, “that I have always served him with upright affection so far as my office, duties, and principles permitted.  If I, in the discharge of my oath and official functions, have ever done anything contrary to his views, I hope that he will forgive it, and that he will hold my children in his gracious favour.”