On the 28th August of a warm afternoon, Barneveld was seated on a porcelain seat in an arbor in his garden.  Councillor Berkhout, accompanied by a friend, called to see him, and after a brief conversation gave him solemn warning that danger was impending, that there was even a rumour of an intention to arrest him.

The Advocate answered gravely, “Yes, there are wicked men about.”

Presently he lifted his hat courteously and said, “I thank you, gentlemen, for the warning.”

It seems scarcely to have occurred to him that he had been engaged in anything beyond a constitutional party struggle in which he had defended what in his view was the side of law and order.  He never dreamt of seeking safety in flight.  Some weeks before, he had been warmly advised to do as both he and Maurice had done in former times in order to escape the stratagems of Leicester, to take refuge in some strong city devoted to his interests rather than remain at the Hague.  But he had declined the counsel.  “I will await the issue of this business,” he said, “in the Hague, where my home is, and where I have faithfully served my masters.  I had rather for the sake of the Fatherland suffer what God chooses to send me for having served well than that through me and on my account any city should fall into trouble and difficulties.”

Next morning, Wednesday, at seven o’clock, Uytenbogaert paid him a visit.  He wished to consult him concerning a certain statement in regard to the Synod which he desired him to lay before the States of Holland.  The preacher did not find his friend busily occupied at his desk, as usual, with writing and other work.  The Advocate had pushed his chair away from the table encumbered with books and papers, and sat with his back leaning against it, lost in thought.  His stern, stoical face was like that of a lion at bay.

Uytenbogaert tried to arouse him from his gloom, consoling him by reflections on the innumerable instances, in all countries and ages, of patriotic statesmen who for faithful service had reaped nothing but ingratitude.

Soon afterwards he took his leave, feeling a presentiment of evil within him which it was impossible for him to shake off as he pressed Barneveld’s hand at parting.

Two hours later, the Advocate went in his coach to the session of the States of Holland.  The place of the Assembly as well as that of the States-General was within what was called the Binnenhof or Inner Court; the large quadrangle enclosing the ancient hall once the residence of the sovereign Counts of Holland.  The apartments of the Stadholder composed the south-western portion of the large series of buildings surrounding this court.  Passing by these lodgings on his way to the Assembly, he was accosted by a chamberlain of the Prince and informed that his Highness desired to speak with him.  He followed him towards the room where such interviews were usually held, but in the antechamber was met by Lieutenant Nythof, of