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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:12 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:16:12 -0700 |
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diff --git a/965-h/965-h.htm b/965-h/965-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eff1041 --- /dev/null +++ b/965-h/965-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13006 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="utf-8"> + <title>The Black Tulip | Project Gutenberg</title> + <style> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 2em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-family: Times; font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 965 ***</div> + <h1> + THE BLACK TULIP + </h1> + <p> + <br> + </p> + <h2> + By Alexandre Dumas + </h2> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> Chapter 1. A Grateful People </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> Chapter 2. The Two Brothers </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> Chapter 3. The Pupil of John de Witt </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> Chapter 4. The Murderers </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> Chapter 5. The Tulip-fancier and his Neighbour + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> Chapter 6. The Hatred of a Tulip-fancier </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> Chapter 7. The Happy Man makes Acquaintance + with Misfortune </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> Chapter 8. An Invasion </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> Chapter 9. The Family Cell </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> Chapter 10. The Jailer’s Daughter </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> Chapter 11. Cornelius van Baerle’s Will </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> Chapter 12. The Execution </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> Chapter 13. What was going on all this Time in + the Mind of one of the Spectators </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> Chapter 14. The Pigeons of Dort </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> Chapter 15. The Little Grated Window </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> Chapter 16. Master and Pupil </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> Chapter 17. The First Bulb </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> Chapter 18. Rosa’s Lover </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> Chapter 19. The Maid and the Flower </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> Chapter 20. The Events which took place during + those Eight Days </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> Chapter 21. The Second Bulb </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> Chapter 22. The Opening of the Flower </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> Chapter 23. The Rival </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> Chapter 24. The Black Tulip changes Masters + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> Chapter 25. The President van Systens </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> Chapter 26. A Member of the Horticultural + Society </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> Chapter 27. The Third Bulb </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> Chapter 28. The Hymn of the Flowers </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> Chapter 29. In which Van Baerle, before leaving + Loewestein, settles Accounts with Gryphus </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> Chapter 30. Wherein the Reader begins to guess + the Kind of Execution that was awaiting Van Baerle </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> Chapter 31. Haarlem </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> Chapter 32. A Last Request </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> Chapter 33. Conclusion </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br> <br> + </p> + <hr> + <p> + <br> <br> <a id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + Chapter 1. A Grateful People + </h2> + <p> + On the 20th of August, 1672, the city of the Hague, always so lively, so + neat, and so trim that one might believe every day to be Sunday, with its + shady park, with its tall trees, spreading over its Gothic houses, with + its canals like large mirrors, in which its steeples and its almost + Eastern cupolas are reflected,—the city of the Hague, the capital of + the Seven United Provinces, was swelling in all its arteries with a black + and red stream of hurried, panting, and restless citizens, who, with their + knives in their girdles, muskets on their shoulders, or sticks in their + hands, were pushing on to the Buytenhof, a terrible prison, the grated + windows of which are still shown, where, on the charge of attempted murder + preferred against him by the surgeon Tyckelaer, Cornelius de Witt, the + brother of the Grand Pensionary of Holland was confined. + </p> + <p> + If the history of that time, and especially that of the year in the middle + of which our narrative commences, were not indissolubly connected with the + two names just mentioned, the few explanatory pages which we are about to + add might appear quite supererogatory; but we will, from the very first, + apprise the reader—our old friend, to whom we are wont on the first + page to promise amusement, and with whom we always try to keep our word as + well as is in our power—that this explanation is as indispensable to + the right understanding of our story as to that of the great event itself + on which it is based. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius de Witt, Ruart de Pulten, that is to say, warden of the dikes, + ex-burgomaster of Dort, his native town, and member of the Assembly of the + States of Holland, was forty-nine years of age, when the Dutch people, + tired of the Republic such as John de Witt, the Grand Pensionary of + Holland, understood it, at once conceived a most violent affection for the + Stadtholderate, which had been abolished for ever in Holland by the + “Perpetual Edict” forced by John de Witt upon the United Provinces. + </p> + <p> + As it rarely happens that public opinion, in its whimsical flights, does + not identify a principle with a man, thus the people saw the + personification of the Republic in the two stern figures of the brothers + De Witt, those Romans of Holland, spurning to pander to the fancies of the + mob, and wedding themselves with unbending fidelity to liberty without + licentiousness, and prosperity without the waste of superfluity; on the + other hand, the Stadtholderate recalled to the popular mind the grave and + thoughtful image of the young Prince William of Orange. + </p> + <p> + The brothers De Witt humoured Louis XIV., whose moral influence was felt + by the whole of Europe, and the pressure of whose material power Holland + had been made to feel in that marvellous campaign on the Rhine, which, in + the space of three months, had laid the power of the United Provinces + prostrate. + </p> + <p> + Louis XIV. had long been the enemy of the Dutch, who insulted or ridiculed + him to their hearts’ content, although it must be said that they generally + used French refugees for the mouthpiece of their spite. Their national + pride held him up as the Mithridates of the Republic. The brothers De + Witt, therefore, had to strive against a double difficulty,—against + the force of national antipathy, and, besides, against the feeling of + weariness which is natural to all vanquished people, when they hope that a + new chief will be able to save them from ruin and shame. + </p> + <p> + This new chief, quite ready to appear on the political stage, and to + measure himself against Louis XIV., however gigantic the fortunes of the + Grand Monarch loomed in the future, was William, Prince of Orange, son of + William II., and grandson, by his mother Henrietta Stuart, of Charles I. + of England. We have mentioned him before as the person by whom the people + expected to see the office of Stadtholder restored. + </p> + <p> + This young man was, in 1672, twenty-two years of age. John de Witt, who + was his tutor, had brought him up with the view of making him a good + citizen. Loving his country better than he did his disciple, the master + had, by the Perpetual Edict, extinguished the hope which the young Prince + might have entertained of one day becoming Stadtholder. But God laughs at + the presumption of man, who wants to raise and prostrate the powers on + earth without consulting the King above; and the fickleness and caprice of + the Dutch combined with the terror inspired by Louis XIV., in repealing + the Perpetual Edict, and re-establishing the office of Stadtholder in + favour of William of Orange, for whom the hand of Providence had traced + out ulterior destinies on the hidden map of the future. + </p> + <p> + The Grand Pensionary bowed before the will of his fellow citizens; + Cornelius de Witt, however, was more obstinate, and notwithstanding all + the threats of death from the Orangist rabble, who besieged him in his + house at Dort, he stoutly refused to sign the act by which the office of + Stadtholder was restored. Moved by the tears and entreaties of his wife, + he at last complied, only adding to his signature the two letters V. C. + (Vi Coactus), notifying thereby that he only yielded to force. + </p> + <p> + It was a real miracle that on that day he escaped from the doom intended + for him. + </p> + <p> + John de Witt derived no advantage from his ready compliance with the + wishes of his fellow citizens. Only a few days after, an attempt was made + to stab him, in which he was severely although not mortally wounded. + </p> + <p> + This by no means suited the views of the Orange faction. The life of the + two brothers being a constant obstacle to their plans, they changed their + tactics, and tried to obtain by calumny what they had not been able to + effect by the aid of the poniard. + </p> + <p> + How rarely does it happen that, in the right moment, a great man is found + to head the execution of vast and noble designs; and for that reason, when + such a providential concurrence of circumstances does occur, history is + prompt to record the name of the chosen one, and to hold him up to the + admiration of posterity. But when Satan interposes in human affairs to + cast a shadow upon some happy existence, or to overthrow a kingdom, it + seldom happens that he does not find at his side some miserable tool, in + whose ear he has but to whisper a word to set him at once about his task. + </p> + <p> + The wretched tool who was at hand to be the agent of this dastardly plot + was one Tyckelaer whom we have already mentioned, a surgeon by profession. + </p> + <p> + He lodged an information against Cornelius de Witt, setting forth that the + warden—who, as he had shown by the letters added to his signature, + was fuming at the repeal of the Perpetual Edict—had, from hatred + against William of Orange, hired an assassin to deliver the new Republic + of its new Stadtholder; and he, Tyckelaer was the person thus chosen; but + that, horrified at the bare idea of the act which he was asked to + perpetrate, he had preferred rather to reveal the crime than to commit it. + </p> + <p> + This disclosure was, indeed, well calculated to call forth a furious + outbreak among the Orange faction. The Attorney General caused, on the + 16th of August, 1672, Cornelius de Witt to be arrested; and the noble + brother of John de Witt had, like the vilest criminal, to undergo, in one + of the apartments of the town prison, the preparatory degrees of torture, + by means of which his judges expected to force from him the confession of + his alleged plot against William of Orange. + </p> + <p> + But Cornelius was not only possessed of a great mind, but also of a great + heart. He belonged to that race of martyrs who, indissolubly wedded to + their political convictions as their ancestors were to their faith, are + able to smile on pain: while being stretched on the rack, he recited with + a firm voice, and scanning the lines according to measure, the first + strophe of the “Justum ac tenacem” of Horace, and, making no confession, + tired not only the strength, but even the fanaticism, of his executioners. + </p> + <p> + The judges, notwithstanding, acquitted Tyckelaer from every charge; at the + same time sentencing Cornelius to be deposed from all his offices and + dignities; to pay all the costs of the trial; and to be banished from the + soil of the Republic for ever. + </p> + <p> + This judgment against not only an innocent, but also a great man, was + indeed some gratification to the passions of the people, to whose + interests Cornelius de Witt had always devoted himself: but, as we shall + soon see, it was not enough. + </p> + <p> + The Athenians, who indeed have left behind them a pretty tolerable + reputation for ingratitude, have in this respect to yield precedence to + the Dutch. They, at least in the case of Aristides, contented themselves + with banishing him. + </p> + <p> + John de Witt, at the first intimation of the charge brought against his + brother, had resigned his office of Grand Pensionary. He too received a + noble recompense for his devotedness to the best interests of his country, + taking with him into the retirement of private life the hatred of a host + of enemies, and the fresh scars of wounds inflicted by assassins, only too + often the sole guerdon obtained by honest people, who are guilty of having + worked for their country, and of having forgotten their own private + interests. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile William of Orange urged on the course of events by every + means in his power, eagerly waiting for the time when the people, by whom + he was idolised, should have made of the bodies of the brothers the two + steps over which he might ascend to the chair of Stadtholder. + </p> + <p> + Thus, then, on the 20th of August, 1672, as we have already stated in the + beginning of this chapter, the whole town was crowding towards the + Buytenhof, to witness the departure of Cornelius de Witt from prison, as + he was going to exile; and to see what traces the torture of the rack had + left on the noble frame of the man who knew his Horace so well. + </p> + <p> + Yet all this multitude was not crowding to the Buytenhof with the innocent + view of merely feasting their eyes with the spectacle; there were many who + went there to play an active part in it, and to take upon themselves an + office which they conceived had been badly filled,—that of the + executioner. + </p> + <p> + There were, indeed, others with less hostile intentions. All that they + cared for was the spectacle, always so attractive to the mob, whose + instinctive pride is flattered by it,—the sight of greatness hurled + down into the dust. + </p> + <p> + “Has not,” they would say, “this Cornelius de Witt been locked up and + broken by the rack? Shall we not see him pale, streaming with blood, + covered with shame?” And was not this a sweet triumph for the burghers of + the Hague, whose envy even beat that of the common rabble; a triumph in + which every honest citizen and townsman might be expected to share? + </p> + <p> + “Moreover,” hinted the Orange agitators interspersed through the crowd, + whom they hoped to manage like a sharp-edged and at the same time crushing + instrument,—“moreover, will there not, from the Buytenhof to the + gate of the town, a nice little opportunity present itself to throw some + handfuls of dirt, or a few stones, at this Cornelius de Witt, who not only + conferred the dignity of Stadtholder on the Prince of Orange merely vi + coactus, but who also intended to have him assassinated?” + </p> + <p> + “Besides which,” the fierce enemies of France chimed in, “if the work were + done well and bravely at the Hague, Cornelius would certainly not be + allowed to go into exile, where he will renew his intrigues with France, + and live with his big scoundrel of a brother, John, on the gold of the + Marquis de Louvois.” + </p> + <p> + Being in such a temper, people generally will run rather than walk; which + was the reason why the inhabitants of the Hague were hurrying so fast + towards the Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + Honest Tyckelaer, with a heart full of spite and malice, and with no + particular plan settled in his mind, was one of the foremost, being + paraded about by the Orange party like a hero of probity, national honour, + and Christian charity. + </p> + <p> + This daring miscreant detailed, with all the embellishments and flourishes + suggested by his base mind and his ruffianly imagination, the attempts + which he pretended Cornelius de Witt had made to corrupt him; the sums of + money which were promised, and all the diabolical stratagems planned + beforehand to smooth for him, Tyckelaer, all the difficulties in the path + of murder. + </p> + <p> + And every phase of his speech, eagerly listened to by the populace, called + forth enthusiastic cheers for the Prince of Orange, and groans and + imprecations of blind fury against the brothers De Witt. + </p> + <p> + The mob even began to vent its rage by inveighing against the iniquitous + judges, who had allowed such a detestable criminal as the villain + Cornelius to get off so cheaply. + </p> + <p> + Some of the agitators whispered, “He will be off, he will escape from us!” + </p> + <p> + Others replied, “A vessel is waiting for him at Schevening, a French + craft. Tyckelaer has seen her.” + </p> + <p> + “Honest Tyckelaer! Hurrah for Tyckelaer!” the mob cried in chorus. + </p> + <p> + “And let us not forget,” a voice exclaimed from the crowd, “that at the + same time with Cornelius his brother John, who is as rascally a traitor as + himself, will likewise make his escape.” + </p> + <p> + “And the two rogues will in France make merry with our money, with the + money for our vessels, our arsenals, and our dockyards, which they have + sold to Louis XIV.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, don’t let us allow them to depart!” advised one of the + patriots who had gained the start of the others. + </p> + <p> + “Forward to the prison, to the prison!” echoed the crowd. + </p> + <p> + Amid these cries, the citizens ran along faster and faster, cocking their + muskets, brandishing their hatchets, and looking death and defiance in all + directions. + </p> + <p> + No violence, however, had as yet been committed; and the file of horsemen + who were guarding the approaches of the Buytenhof remained cool, unmoved, + silent, much more threatening in their impassibility than all this crowd + of burghers, with their cries, their agitation, and their threats. The men + on their horses, indeed, stood like so many statues, under the eye of + their chief, Count Tilly, the captain of the mounted troops of the Hague, + who had his sword drawn, but held it with its point downwards, in a line + with the straps of his stirrup. + </p> + <p> + This troop, the only defence of the prison, overawed by its firm attitude + not only the disorderly riotous mass of the populace, but also the + detachment of the burgher guard, which, being placed opposite the + Buytenhof to support the soldiers in keeping order, gave to the rioters + the example of seditious cries, shouting,— + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah for Orange! Down with the traitors!” + </p> + <p> + The presence of Tilly and his horsemen, indeed, exercised a salutary check + on these civic warriors; but by degrees they waxed more and more angry by + their own shouts, and as they were not able to understand how any one + could have courage without showing it by cries, they attributed the + silence of the dragoons to pusillanimity, and advanced one step towards + the prison, with all the turbulent mob following in their wake. + </p> + <p> + In this moment, Count Tilly rode forth towards them single-handed, merely + lifting his sword and contracting his brow whilst he addressed them:— + </p> + <p> + “Well, gentlemen of the burgher guard, what are you advancing for, and + what do you wish?” + </p> + <p> + The burghers shook their muskets, repeating their cry,— + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah for Orange! Death to the traitors!” + </p> + <p> + “‘Hurrah for Orange!’ all well and good!” replied Tilly, “although I + certainly am more partial to happy faces than to gloomy ones. ‘Death to + the traitors!’ as much of it as you like, as long as you show your wishes + only by cries. But, as to putting them to death in good earnest, I am here + to prevent that, and I shall prevent it.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning round to his men, he gave the word of command,— + </p> + <p> + “Soldiers, ready!” + </p> + <p> + The troopers obeyed orders with a precision which immediately caused the + burgher guard and the people to fall back, in a degree of confusion which + excited the smile of the cavalry officer. + </p> + <p> + “Holloa!” he exclaimed, with that bantering tone which is peculiar to men + of his profession; “be easy, gentlemen, my soldiers will not fire a shot; + but, on the other hand, you will not advance by one step towards the + prison.” + </p> + <p> + “And do you know, sir, that we have muskets?” roared the commandant of the + burghers. + </p> + <p> + “I must know it, by Jove, you have made them glitter enough before my + eyes; but I beg you to observe also that we on our side have pistols, that + the pistol carries admirably to a distance of fifty yards, and that you + are only twenty-five from us.” + </p> + <p> + “Death to the traitors!” cried the exasperated burghers. + </p> + <p> + “Go along with you,” growled the officer, “you always cry the same thing + over again. It is very tiresome.” + </p> + <p> + With this, he took his post at the head of his troops, whilst the tumult + grew fiercer and fiercer about the Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + And yet the fuming crowd did not know that, at that very moment when they + were tracking the scent of one of their victims, the other, as if hurrying + to meet his fate, passed, at a distance of not more than a hundred yards, + behind the groups of people and the dragoons, to betake himself to the + Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + John de Witt, indeed, had alighted from his coach with his servant, and + quietly walked across the courtyard of the prison. + </p> + <p> + Mentioning his name to the turnkey, who however knew him, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, Gryphus; I am coming to take away my brother, who, as you + know, is condemned to exile, and to carry him out of the town.” + </p> + <p> + Whereupon the jailer, a sort of bear, trained to lock and unlock the gates + of the prison, had greeted him and admitted him into the building, the + doors of which were immediately closed again. + </p> + <p> + Ten yards farther on, John de Witt met a lovely young girl, of about + seventeen or eighteen, dressed in the national costume of the Frisian + women, who, with pretty demureness, dropped a curtesy to him. Chucking her + under the chin, he said to her,— + </p> + <p> + “Good morning, my good and fair Rosa; how is my brother?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mynheer John!” the young girl replied, “I am not afraid of the harm + which has been done to him. That’s all over now.” + </p> + <p> + “But what is it you are afraid of?” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid of the harm which they are going to do to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said De Witt, “you mean to speak of the people down below, + don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear them?” + </p> + <p> + “They are indeed in a state of great excitement; but when they see us + perhaps they will grow calmer, as we have never done them anything but + good.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s unfortunately no reason, except for the contrary,” muttered the + girl, as, on an imperative sign from her father, she withdrew. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, child, what you say is only too true.” + </p> + <p> + Then, in pursuing his way, he said to himself,— + </p> + <p> + “Here is a damsel who very likely does not know how to read, who + consequently has never read anything, and yet with one word she has just + told the whole history of the world.” + </p> + <p> + And with the same calm mien, but more melancholy than he had been on + entering the prison, the Grand Pensionary proceeded towards the cell of + his brother. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2. The Two Brothers + </h2> + <p> + As the fair Rosa, with foreboding doubt, had foretold, so it happened. + Whilst John de Witt was climbing the narrow winding stairs which led to + the prison of his brother Cornelius, the burghers did their best to have + the troop of Tilly, which was in their way, removed. + </p> + <p> + Seeing this disposition, King Mob, who fully appreciated the laudable + intentions of his own beloved militia, shouted most lustily,— + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah for the burghers!” + </p> + <p> + As to Count Tilly, who was as prudent as he was firm, he began to parley + with the burghers, under the protection of the cocked pistols of his + dragoons, explaining to the valiant townsmen, that his order from the + States commanded him to guard the prison and its approaches with three + companies. + </p> + <p> + “Wherefore such an order? Why guard the prison?” cried the Orangists. + </p> + <p> + “Stop,” replied the Count, “there you at once ask me more than I can tell + you. I was told, ‘Guard the prison,’ and I guard it. You, gentlemen, who + are almost military men yourselves, you are aware that an order must never + be gainsaid.” + </p> + <p> + “But this order has been given to you that the traitors may be enabled to + leave the town.” + </p> + <p> + “Very possibly, as the traitors are condemned to exile,” replied Tilly. + </p> + <p> + “But who has given this order?” + </p> + <p> + “The States, to be sure!” + </p> + <p> + “The States are traitors.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know anything about that!” + </p> + <p> + “And you are a traitor yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, as to that, let us understand each other gentlemen. Whom should I + betray? The States? Why, I cannot betray them, whilst, being in their pay, + I faithfully obey their orders.” + </p> + <p> + As the Count was so indisputably in the right that it was impossible to + argue against him, the mob answered only by redoubled clamour and horrible + threats, to which the Count opposed the most perfect urbanity. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” he said, “uncock your muskets, one of them may go off by + accident; and if the shot chanced to wound one of my men, we should knock + over a couple of hundreds of yours, for which we should, indeed, be very + sorry, but you even more so; especially as such a thing is neither + contemplated by you nor by myself.” + </p> + <p> + “If you did that,” cried the burghers, “we should have a pop at you, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course you would; but suppose you killed every man Jack of us, those + whom we should have killed would not, for all that, be less dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Then leave the place to us, and you will perform the part of a good + citizen.” + </p> + <p> + “First of all,” said the Count, “I am not a citizen, but an officer, which + is a very different thing; and secondly, I am not a Hollander, but a + Frenchman, which is more different still. I have to do with no one but the + States, by whom I am paid; let me see an order from them to leave the + place to you, and I shall only be too glad to wheel off in an instant, as + I am confoundedly bored here.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” cried a hundred voices; the din of which was immediately + swelled by five hundred others; “let us march to the Town-hall; let us go + and see the deputies! Come along! come along!” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it,” Tilly muttered between his teeth, as he saw the most violent + among the crowd turning away; “go and ask for a meanness at the Town-hall, + and you will see whether they will grant it; go, my fine fellows, go!” + </p> + <p> + The worthy officer relied on the honour of the magistrates, who, on their + side, relied on his honour as a soldier. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Captain,” the first lieutenant whispered into the ear of the + Count, “I hope the deputies will give these madmen a flat refusal; but, + after all, it would do no harm if they would send us some reinforcement.” + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, John de Witt, whom we left climbing the stairs, after + the conversation with the jailer Gryphus and his daughter Rosa, had + reached the door of the cell, where on a mattress his brother Cornelius + was resting, after having undergone the preparatory degrees of the + torture. The sentence of banishment having been pronounced, there was no + occasion for inflicting the torture extraordinary. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius was stretched on his couch, with broken wrists and crushed + fingers. He had not confessed a crime of which he was not guilty; and now, + after three days of agony, he once more breathed freely, on being informed + that the judges, from whom he had expected death, were only condemning him + to exile. + </p> + <p> + Endowed with an iron frame and a stout heart, how would he have + disappointed his enemies if they could only have seen, in the dark cell of + the Buytenhof, his pale face lit up by the smile of the martyr, who + forgets the dross of this earth after having obtained a glimpse of the + bright glory of heaven. + </p> + <p> + The warden, indeed, had already recovered his full strength, much more + owing to the force of his own strong will than to actual aid; and he was + calculating how long the formalities of the law would still detain him in + prison. + </p> + <p> + This was just at the very moment when the mingled shouts of the burgher + guard and of the mob were raging against the two brothers, and threatening + Captain Tilly, who served as a rampart to them. This noise, which roared + outside of the walls of the prison, as the surf dashing against the rocks, + now reached the ears of the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + But, threatening as it sounded, Cornelius appeared not to deem it worth + his while to inquire after its cause; nor did he get up to look out of the + narrow grated window, which gave access to the light and to the noise of + the world without. + </p> + <p> + He was so absorbed in his never-ceasing pain that it had almost become a + habit with him. He felt with such delight the bonds which connected his + immortal being with his perishable frame gradually loosening, that it + seemed to him as if his spirit, freed from the trammels of the body, were + hovering above it, like the expiring flame which rises from the + half-extinguished embers. + </p> + <p> + He also thought of his brother; and whilst the latter was thus vividly + present to his mind the door opened, and John entered, hurrying to the + bedside of the prisoner, who stretched out his broken limbs and his hands + tied up in bandages towards that glorious brother, whom he now excelled, + not in services rendered to the country, but in the hatred which the Dutch + bore him. + </p> + <p> + John tenderly kissed his brother on the forehead, and put his sore hands + gently back on the mattress. + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius, my poor brother, you are suffering great pain, are you not?” + </p> + <p> + “I am suffering no longer, since I see you, my brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my poor dear Cornelius! I feel most wretched to see you in such a + state.” + </p> + <p> + “And, indeed, I have thought more of you than of myself; and whilst they + were torturing me, I never thought of uttering a complaint, except once, + to say, ‘Poor brother!’ But now that you are here, let us forget all. You + are coming to take me away, are you not?” + </p> + <p> + “I am.” + </p> + <p> + “I am quite healed; help me to get up, and you shall see how I can walk.” + </p> + <p> + “You will not have to walk far, as I have my coach near the pond, behind + Tilly’s dragoons.” + </p> + <p> + “Tilly’s dragoons! What are they near the pond for?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the Grand Pensionary with a melancholy smile which was + habitual to him, “the gentlemen at the Town-hall expect that the people at + the Hague would like to see you depart, and there is some apprehension of + a tumult.” + </p> + <p> + “Of a tumult?” replied Cornelius, fixing his eyes on his perplexed + brother; “a tumult?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! that’s what I heard just now,” said the prisoner, as if speaking to + himself. Then, turning to his brother, he continued,— + </p> + <p> + “Are there many persons down before the prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my brother, there are.” + </p> + <p> + “But then, to come here to me——” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “How is it that they have allowed you to pass?” + </p> + <p> + “You know well that we are not very popular, Cornelius,” said the Grand + Pensionary, with gloomy bitterness. “I have made my way through all sorts + of bystreets and alleys.” + </p> + <p> + “You hid yourself, John?” + </p> + <p> + “I wished to reach you without loss of time, and I did what people will do + in politics, or on the sea when the wind is against them,—I tacked.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the noise in the square below was heard to roar with + increasing fury. Tilly was parleying with the burghers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said Cornelius, “you are a very skilful pilot, John; but I + doubt whether you will as safely guide your brother out of the Buytenhof + in the midst of this gale, and through the raging surf of popular hatred, + as you did the fleet of Van Tromp past the shoals of the Scheldt to + Antwerp.” + </p> + <p> + “With the help of God, Cornelius, we’ll at least try,” answered John; + “but, first of all, a word with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak!” + </p> + <p> + The shouts began anew. + </p> + <p> + “Hark, hark!” continued Cornelius, “how angry those people are! Is it + against you, or against me?” + </p> + <p> + “I should say it is against us both, Cornelius. I told you, my dear + brother, that the Orange party, while assailing us with their absurd + calumnies, have also made it a reproach against us that we have negotiated + with France.” + </p> + <p> + “What blockheads they are!” + </p> + <p> + “But, indeed, they reproach us with it.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet, if these negotiations had been successful, they would have + prevented the defeats of Rees, Orsay, Wesel, and Rheinberg; the Rhine + would not have been crossed, and Holland might still consider herself + invincible in the midst of her marshes and canals.” + </p> + <p> + “All this is quite true, my dear Cornelius, but still more certain it is, + that if at this moment our correspondence with the Marquis de Louvois were + discovered, skilful pilot as I am, I should not be able to save the frail + barque which is to carry the brothers De Witt and their fortunes out of + Holland. That correspondence, which might prove to honest people how + dearly I love my country, and what sacrifices I have offered to make for + its liberty and glory, would be ruin to us if it fell into the hands of + the Orange party. I hope you have burned the letters before you left Dort + to join me at the Hague.” + </p> + <p> + “My dear brother,” Cornelius answered, “your correspondence with M. de + Louvois affords ample proof of your having been of late the greatest, most + generous, and most able citizen of the Seven United Provinces. I rejoice + in the glory of my country; and particularly do I rejoice in your glory, + John. I have taken good care not to burn that correspondence.” + </p> + <p> + “Then we are lost, as far as this life is concerned,” quietly said the + Grand Pensionary, approaching the window. + </p> + <p> + “No, on the contrary, John, we shall at the same time save our lives and + regain our popularity.” + </p> + <p> + “But what have you done with these letters?” + </p> + <p> + “I have intrusted them to the care of Cornelius van Baerle, my godson, + whom you know, and who lives at Dort.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor honest Van Baerle! who knows so much, and yet thinks of nothing but + of flowers and of God who made them. You have intrusted him with this + fatal secret; it will be his ruin, poor soul!” + </p> + <p> + “His ruin?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, for he will either be strong or he will be weak. If he is strong, he + will, when he hears of what has happened to us, boast of our acquaintance; + if he is weak, he will be afraid on account of his connection with us: if + he is strong, he will betray the secret by his boldness; if he is weak, he + will allow it to be forced from him. In either case he is lost, and so are + we. Let us, therefore, fly, fly, as long as there is still time.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius de Witt, raising himself on his couch, and grasping the hand of + his brother, who shuddered at the touch of his linen bandages, replied,— + </p> + <p> + “Do not I know my godson? have not I been enabled to read every thought in + Van Baerle’s mind, and every sentiment in his heart? You ask whether he is + strong or weak. He is neither the one nor the other; but that is not now + the question. The principal point is, that he is sure not to divulge the + secret, for the very good reason that he does not know it himself.” + </p> + <p> + John turned round in surprise. + </p> + <p> + “You must know, my dear brother, that I have been trained in the school of + that distinguished politician John de Witt; and I repeat to you, that Van + Baerle is not aware of the nature and importance of the deposit which I + have intrusted to him.” + </p> + <p> + “Quick then,” cried John, “as there is still time, let us convey to him + directions to burn the parcel.” + </p> + <p> + “Through whom?” + </p> + <p> + “Through my servant Craeke, who was to have accompanied us on horseback, + and who has entered the prison with me, to assist you downstairs.” + </p> + <p> + “Consider well before having those precious documents burnt, John!” + </p> + <p> + “I consider, above all things, that the brothers De Witt must necessarily + save their lives, to be able to save their character. If we are dead, who + will defend us? Who will have fully understood our intentions?” + </p> + <p> + “You expect, then, that they would kill us if those papers were found?” + </p> + <p> + John, without answering, pointed with his hand to the square, whence, at + that very moment, fierce shouts and savage yells made themselves heard. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Cornelius, “I hear these shouts very plainly, but what is + their meaning?” + </p> + <p> + John opened the window. + </p> + <p> + “Death to the traitors!” howled the populace. + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear now, Cornelius?” + </p> + <p> + “To the traitors! that means us!” said the prisoner, raising his eyes to + heaven and shrugging his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it means us,” repeated John. + </p> + <p> + “Where is Craeke?” + </p> + <p> + “At the door of your cell, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Let him enter then.” + </p> + <p> + John opened the door; the faithful servant was waiting on the threshold. + </p> + <p> + “Come in, Craeke, and mind well what my brother will tell you.” + </p> + <p> + “No, John; it will not suffice to send a verbal message; unfortunately, I + shall be obliged to write.” + </p> + <p> + “And why that?” + </p> + <p> + “Because Van Baerle will neither give up the parcel nor burn it without a + special command to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “But will you be able to write, poor old fellow?” John asked, with a look + on the scorched and bruised hands of the unfortunate sufferer. + </p> + <p> + “If I had pen and ink you would soon see,” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a pencil, at any rate.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you any paper? for they have left me nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Here, take this Bible, and tear out the fly-leaf.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, that will do.” + </p> + <p> + “But your writing will be illegible.” + </p> + <p> + “Just leave me alone for that,” said Cornelius. “The executioners have + indeed pinched me badly enough, but my hand will not tremble once in + tracing the few lines which are requisite.” + </p> + <p> + And really Cornelius took the pencil and began to write, when through the + white linen bandages drops of blood oozed out which the pressure of the + fingers against the pencil squeezed from the raw flesh. + </p> + <p> + A cold sweat stood on the brow of the Grand Pensionary. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius wrote:— + </p> + <p> + “My dear Godson,— + </p> + <p> + “Burn the parcel which I have intrusted to you. Burn it without looking at + it, and without opening it, so that its contents may for ever remain + unknown to yourself. Secrets of this description are death to those with + whom they are deposited. Burn it, and you will have saved John and + Cornelius de Witt. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, and love me. + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius de Witt + </p> + <p> + “August 20th, 1672.” + </p> + <p> + John, with tears in his eyes, wiped off a drop of the noble blood which + had soiled the leaf, and, after having handed the despatch to Craeke with + a last direction, returned to Cornelius, who seemed overcome by intense + pain, and near fainting. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” said he, “when honest Craeke sounds his coxswain’s whistle, it will + be a signal of his being clear of the crowd, and of his having reached the + other side of the pond. And then it will be our turn to depart.” + </p> + <p> + Five minutes had not elapsed, before a long and shrill whistle was heard + through the din and noise of the square of the Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + John gratefully raised his eyes to heaven. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said he, “let us off, Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 3. The Pupil of John de Witt + </h2> + <p> + Whilst the clamour of the crowd in the square of Buytenhof, which grew + more and more menacing against the two brothers, determined John de Witt + to hasten the departure of his brother Cornelius, a deputation of burghers + had gone to the Town-hall to demand the withdrawal of Tilly’s horse. + </p> + <p> + It was not far from the Buytenhof to Hoogstraet (High Street); and a + stranger, who since the beginning of this scene had watched all its + incidents with intense interest, was seen to wend his way with, or rather + in the wake of, the others towards the Town-hall, to hear as soon as + possible the current news of the hour. + </p> + <p> + This stranger was a very young man, of scarcely twenty-two or three, with + nothing about him that bespoke any great energy. He evidently had his good + reasons for not making himself known, as he hid his face in a handkerchief + of fine Frisian linen, with which he incessantly wiped his brow or his + burning lips. + </p> + <p> + With an eye keen as that of a bird of prey,—with a long aquiline + nose, a finely cut mouth, which he generally kept open, or rather which + was gaping like the edges of a wound,—this man would have presented + to Lavater, if Lavater had lived at that time, a subject for + physiognomical observations which at the first blush would not have been + very favourable to the person in question. + </p> + <p> + “What difference is there between the figure of the conqueror and that of + the pirate?” said the ancients. The difference only between the eagle and + the vulture,—serenity or restlessness. + </p> + <p> + And indeed the sallow physiognomy, the thin and sickly body, and the + prowling ways of the stranger, were the very type of a suspecting master, + or an unquiet thief; and a police officer would certainly have decided in + favour of the latter supposition, on account of the great care which the + mysterious person evidently took to hide himself. + </p> + <p> + He was plainly dressed, and apparently unarmed; his arm was lean but wiry, + and his hands dry, but of an aristocratic whiteness and delicacy, and he + leaned on the shoulder of an officer, who, with his hand on his sword, had + watched the scenes in the Buytenhof with eager curiosity, very natural in + a military man, until his companion drew him away with him. + </p> + <p> + On arriving at the square of the Hoogstraet, the man with the sallow face + pushed the other behind an open shutter, from which corner he himself + began to survey the balcony of the Town-hall. + </p> + <p> + At the savage yells of the mob, the window of the Town-hall opened, and a + man came forth to address the people. + </p> + <p> + “Who is that on the balcony?” asked the young man, glancing at the orator. + </p> + <p> + “It is the Deputy Bowelt,” replied the officer. + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a man is he? Do you know anything of him?” + </p> + <p> + “An honest man; at least I believe so, Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + Hearing this character given of Bowelt, the young man showed signs of such + a strange disappointment and evident dissatisfaction that the officer + could not but remark it, and therefore added,— + </p> + <p> + “At least people say so, Monseigneur. I cannot say anything about it + myself, as I have no personal acquaintance with Mynheer Bowelt.” + </p> + <p> + “An honest man,” repeated he who was addressed as Monseigneur; “do you + mean to say that he is an honest man (brave homme), or a brave one (homme + brave)?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Monseigneur must excuse me; I would not presume to draw such a fine + distinction in the case of a man whom, I assure your Highness once more, I + know only by sight.” + </p> + <p> + “If this Bowelt is an honest man,” his Highness continued, “he will give + to the demand of these furibund petitioners a very queer reception.” + </p> + <p> + The nervous quiver of his hand, which moved on the shoulder of his + companion as the fingers of a player on the keys of a harpsichord, + betrayed his burning impatience, so ill concealed at certain times, and + particularly at that moment, under the icy and sombre expression of his + face. + </p> + <p> + The chief of the deputation of the burghers was then heard addressing an + interpellation to Mynheer Bowelt, whom he requested to let them know where + the other deputies, his colleagues, were. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” Bowelt repeated for the second time, “I assure you that in + this moment I am here alone with Mynheer d’Asperen, and I cannot take any + resolution on my own responsibility.” + </p> + <p> + “The order! we want the order!” cried several thousand voices. + </p> + <p> + Mynheer Bowelt wished to speak, but his words were not heard, and he was + only seen moving his arms in all sorts of gestures, which plainly showed + that he felt his position to be desperate. When, at last, he saw that he + could not make himself heard, he turned round towards the open window, and + called Mynheer d’Asperen. + </p> + <p> + The latter gentleman now made his appearance on the balcony, where he was + saluted with shouts even more energetic than those with which, ten minutes + before, his colleague had been received. + </p> + <p> + This did not prevent him from undertaking the difficult task of haranguing + the mob; but the mob preferred forcing the guard of the States—which, + however, offered no resistance to the sovereign people—to listening + to the speech of Mynheer d’Asperen. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then,” the young man coolly remarked, whilst the crowd was rushing + into the principal gate of the Town-hall, “it seems the question will be + discussed indoors, Captain. Come along, and let us hear the debate.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Monseigneur! Monseigneur! take care!” + </p> + <p> + “Of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Among these deputies there are many who have had dealings with you, and + it would be sufficient, that one of them should recognize your Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that I might be charged with having been the instigator of all this + work, indeed, you are right,” said the young man, blushing for a moment + from regret of having betrayed so much eagerness. “From this place we + shall see them return with or without the order for the withdrawal of the + dragoons, then we may judge which is greater, Mynheer Bowelt’s honesty or + his courage.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” replied the officer, looking with astonishment at the personage + whom he addressed as Monseigneur, “but your Highness surely does not + suppose for one instant that the deputies will order Tilly’s horse to quit + their post?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” the young man quietly retorted. + </p> + <p> + “Because doing so would simply be signing the death warrant of Cornelius + and John de Witt.” + </p> + <p> + “We shall see,” his Highness replied, with the most perfect coolness; “God + alone knows what is going on within the hearts of men.” + </p> + <p> + The officer looked askance at the impassible figure of his companion, and + grew pale: he was an honest man as well as a brave one. + </p> + <p> + From the spot where they stood, his Highness and his attendant heard the + tumult and the heavy tramp of the crowd on the staircase of the Town-hall. + The noise thereupon sounded through the windows of the hall, on the + balcony of which Mynheers Bowelt and D’Asperen had presented themselves. + These two gentlemen had retired into the building, very likely from fear + of being forced over the balustrade by the pressure of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + After this, fluctuating shadows in tumultuous confusion were seen flitting + to and fro across the windows: the council hall was filling. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the noise subsided, and as suddenly again it rose with redoubled + intensity, and at last reached such a pitch that the old building shook to + the very roof. + </p> + <p> + At length, the living stream poured back through the galleries and stairs + to the arched gateway, from which it was seen issuing like waters from a + spout. + </p> + <p> + At the head of the first group, man was flying rather than running, his + face hideously distorted with satanic glee: this man was the surgeon + Tyckelaer. + </p> + <p> + “We have it! we have it!” he cried, brandishing a paper in the air. + </p> + <p> + “They have got the order!” muttered the officer in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” his Highness quietly remarked, “now I know what to believe + with regard to Mynheer Bowelt’s honesty and courage: he has neither the + one nor the other.” + </p> + <p> + Then, looking with a steady glance after the crowd which was rushing along + before him, he continued,— + </p> + <p> + “Let us now go to the Buytenhof, Captain; I expect we shall see a very + strange sight there.” + </p> + <p> + The officer bowed, and, without making any reply, followed in the steps of + his master. + </p> + <p> + There was an immense crowd in the square and about the neighbourhood of + the prison. But the dragoons of Tilly still kept it in check with the same + success and with the same firmness. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before the Count heard the increasing din of the + approaching multitude, the first ranks of which rushed on with the + rapidity of a cataract. + </p> + <p> + At the same time he observed the paper, which was waving above the surface + of clenched fists and glittering arms. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” he said, rising in his stirrups, and touching his lieutenant + with the knob of his sword; “I really believe those rascals have got the + order.” + </p> + <p> + “Dastardly ruffians they are,” cried the lieutenant. + </p> + <p> + It was indeed the order, which the burgher guard received with a roar of + triumph. They immediately sallied forth, with lowered arms and fierce + shouts, to meet Count Tilly’s dragoons. + </p> + <p> + But the Count was not the man to allow them to approach within an + inconvenient distance. + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” he cried, “stop, and keep off from my horse, or I shall give the + word of command to advance.” + </p> + <p> + “Here is the order!” a hundred insolent voices answered at once. + </p> + <p> + He took it in amazement, cast a rapid glance on it, and said quite aloud,— + </p> + <p> + “Those who have signed this order are the real murderers of Cornelius de + Witt. I would rather have my two hands cut off than have written one + single letter of this infamous order.” + </p> + <p> + And, pushing back with the hilt of his sword the man who wanted to take it + from him, he added,— + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, papers like this are of importance, and are to be kept.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, he folded up the document, and carefully put it in the pocket + of his coat. + </p> + <p> + Then, turning round towards his troop, he gave the word of command,— + </p> + <p> + “Tilly’s dragoons, wheel to the right!” + </p> + <p> + After this, he added, in an undertone, yet loud enough for his words to be + not altogether lost to those about him,— + </p> + <p> + “And now, ye butchers, do your work!” + </p> + <p> + A savage yell, in which all the keen hatred and ferocious triumph rife in + the precincts of the prison simultaneously burst forth, and accompanied + the departure of the dragoons, as they were quietly filing off. + </p> + <p> + The Count tarried behind, facing to the last the infuriated populace, + which advanced at the same rate as the Count retired. + </p> + <p> + John de Witt, therefore, had by no means exaggerated the danger, when, + assisting his brother in getting up, he hurried his departure. Cornelius, + leaning on the arm of the Ex-Grand Pensionary, descended the stairs which + led to the courtyard. At the bottom of the staircase he found little Rosa, + trembling all over. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mynheer John,” she said, “what a misfortune!” + </p> + <p> + “What is it, my child?” asked De Witt. + </p> + <p> + “They say that they are gone to the Town-hall to fetch the order for + Tilly’s horse to withdraw.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not say so!” replied John. “Indeed, my dear child, if the dragoons + are off, we shall be in a very sad plight.” + </p> + <p> + “I have some advice to give you,” Rosa said, trembling even more violently + than before. + </p> + <p> + “Well, let us hear what you have to say, my child. Why should not God + speak by your mouth?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, Mynheer John, if I were in your place, I should not go out + through the main street.” + </p> + <p> + “And why so, as the dragoons of Tilly are still at their post?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but their order, as long as it is not revoked, enjoins them to stop + before the prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Undoubtedly.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you got an order for them to accompany you out of the town?” + </p> + <p> + “We have not?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, in the very moment when you have passed the ranks of the + dragoons you will fall into the hands of the people.” + </p> + <p> + “But the burgher guard?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! the burgher guard are the most enraged of all.” + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do, then?” + </p> + <p> + “If I were in your place, Mynheer John,” the young girl timidly continued, + “I should leave by the postern, which leads into a deserted by-lane, + whilst all the people are waiting in the High Street to see you come out + by the principal entrance. From there I should try to reach the gate by + which you intend to leave the town.” + </p> + <p> + “But my brother is not able to walk,” said John. + </p> + <p> + “I shall try,” Cornelius said, with an expression of most sublime + fortitude. + </p> + <p> + “But have you not got your carriage?” asked the girl. + </p> + <p> + “The carriage is down near the great entrance.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” she replied. “I considered your coachman to be a faithful man, + and I told him to wait for you at the postern.” + </p> + <p> + The two brothers looked first at each other, and then at Rosa, with a + glance full of the most tender gratitude. + </p> + <p> + “The question is now,” said the Grand Pensionary, “whether Gryphus will + open this door for us.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, he will do no such thing,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and how then?” + </p> + <p> + “I have foreseen his refusal, and just now whilst he was talking from the + window of the porter’s lodge with a dragoon, I took away the key from his + bunch.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have got it?” + </p> + <p> + “Here it is, Mynheer John.” + </p> + <p> + “My child,” said Cornelius, “I have nothing to give you in exchange for + the service you are rendering us but the Bible which you will find in my + room; it is the last gift of an honest man; I hope it will bring you good + luck.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Master Cornelius, it shall never leave me,” replied Rosa. + </p> + <p> + And then, with a sigh, she said to herself, “What a pity that I do not + know how to read!” + </p> + <p> + “The shouts and cries are growing louder and louder,” said John; “there is + not a moment to be lost.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, gentlemen,” said the girl, who now led the two brothers + through an inner lobby to the back of the prison. Guided by her, they + descended a staircase of about a dozen steps; traversed a small courtyard, + which was surrounded by castellated walls; and, the arched door having + been opened for them by Rosa, they emerged into a lonely street where + their carriage was ready to receive them. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, quick, my masters! do you hear them?” cried the coachman, in a + deadly fright. + </p> + <p> + Yet, after having made Cornelius get into the carriage first, the Grand + Pensionary turned round towards the girl, to whom he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Good-bye, my child! words could never express our gratitude. God will + reward you for having saved the lives of two men.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa took the hand which John de Witt proffered to her, and kissed it with + every show of respect. + </p> + <p> + “Go! for Heaven’s sake, go!” she said; “it seems they are going to force + the gate.” + </p> + <p> + John de Witt hastily got in, sat himself down by the side of his brother, + and, fastening the apron of the carriage, called out to the coachman,— + </p> + <p> + “To the Tol-Hek!” + </p> + <p> + The Tol-Hek was the iron gate leading to the harbor of Schevening, in + which a small vessel was waiting for the two brothers. + </p> + <p> + The carriage drove off with the fugitives at the full speed of a pair of + spirited Flemish horses. Rosa followed them with her eyes until they + turned the corner of the street, upon which, closing the door after her, + she went back and threw the key into a cell. + </p> + <p> + The noise which had made Rosa suppose that the people were forcing the + prison door was indeed owing to the mob battering against it after the + square had been left by the military. + </p> + <p> + Solid as the gate was, and although Gryphus, to do him justice, stoutly + enough refused to open it, yet evidently it could not resist much longer, + and the jailer, growing very pale, put to himself the question whether it + would not be better to open the door than to allow it to be forced, when + he felt some one gently pulling his coat. + </p> + <p> + He turned round and saw Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear these madmen?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I hear them so well, my father, that in your place——” + </p> + <p> + “You would open the door?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I should allow it to be forced.” + </p> + <p> + “But they will kill me!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if they see you.” + </p> + <p> + “How shall they not see me?” + </p> + <p> + “Hide yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “In the secret dungeon.” + </p> + <p> + “But you, my child?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall get into it with you. We shall lock the door and when they have + left the prison, we shall again come forth from our hiding place.” + </p> + <p> + “Zounds, you are right, there!” cried Gryphus; “it’s surprising how much + sense there is in such a little head!” + </p> + <p> + Then, as the gate began to give way amidst the triumphant shouts of the + mob, she opened a little trap-door, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Come along, come along, father.” + </p> + <p> + “But our prisoners?” + </p> + <p> + “God will watch over them, and I shall watch over you.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus followed his daughter, and the trap-door closed over his head, + just as the broken gate gave admittance to the populace. + </p> + <p> + The dungeon where Rosa had induced her father to hide himself, and where + for the present we must leave the two, offered to them a perfectly safe + retreat, being known only to those in power, who used to place there + important prisoners of state, to guard against a rescue or a revolt. + </p> + <p> + The people rushed into the prison, with the cry— + </p> + <p> + “Death to the traitors! To the gallows with Cornelius de Witt! Death! + death!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4. The Murderers + </h2> + <p> + The young man with his hat slouched over his eyes, still leaning on the + arm of the officer, and still wiping from time to time his brow with his + handkerchief, was watching in a corner of the Buytenhof, in the shade of + the overhanging weather-board of a closed shop, the doings of the + infuriated mob, a spectacle which seemed to draw near its catastrophe. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said he to the officer, “indeed, I think you were right, Van + Deken; the order which the deputies have signed is truly the death-warrant + of Master Cornelius. Do you hear these people? They certainly bear a sad + grudge to the two De Witts.” + </p> + <p> + “In truth,” replied the officer, “I never heard such shouts.” + </p> + <p> + “They seem to have found out the cell of the man. Look, look! is not that + the window of the cell where Cornelius was locked up?” + </p> + <p> + A man had seized with both hands and was shaking the iron bars of the + window in the room which Cornelius had left only ten minutes before. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa, halloa!” the man called out, “he is gone.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that? gone?” asked those of the mob who had not been able to get + into the prison, crowded as it was with the mass of intruders. + </p> + <p> + “Gone, gone,” repeated the man in a rage, “the bird has flown.” + </p> + <p> + “What does this man say?” asked his Highness, growing quite pale. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Monseigneur, he says a thing which would be very fortunate if it + should turn out true!” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly it would be fortunate if it were true,” said the young man; + “unfortunately it cannot be true.” + </p> + <p> + “However, look!” said the officer. + </p> + <p> + And indeed, some more faces, furious and contorted with rage, showed + themselves at the windows, crying,— + </p> + <p> + “Escaped, gone, they have helped them off!” + </p> + <p> + And the people in the street repeated, with fearful imprecations,— + </p> + <p> + “Escaped! gone! After them, and catch them!” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur, it seems that Mynheer Cornelius has really escaped,” said + the officer. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, from prison, perhaps, but not from the town; you will see, Van + Deken, that the poor fellow will find the gate closed against him which he + hoped to find open.” + </p> + <p> + “Has an order been given to close the town gates, Monseigneur?” + </p> + <p> + “No,—at least I do not think so; who could have given such an + order?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, but what makes your Highness suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “There are fatalities,” Monseigneur replied, in an offhand manner; “and + the greatest men have sometimes fallen victims to such fatalities.” + </p> + <p> + At these words the officer felt his blood run cold, as somehow or other he + was convinced that the prisoner was lost. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the roar of the multitude broke forth like thunder, for it + was now quite certain that Cornelius de Witt was no longer in the prison. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius and John, after driving along the pond, had taken the main + street, which leads to the Tol-Hek, giving directions to the coachman to + slacken his pace, in order not to excite any suspicion. + </p> + <p> + But when, on having proceeded half-way down that street, the man felt that + he had left the prison and death behind, and before him there was life and + liberty, he neglected every precaution, and set his horses off at a + gallop. + </p> + <p> + All at once he stopped. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter?” asked John, putting his head out of the coach + window. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my masters!” cried the coachman, “it is——” + </p> + <p> + Terror choked the voice of the honest fellow. + </p> + <p> + “Well, say what you have to say!” urged the Grand Pensionary. + </p> + <p> + “The gate is closed, that’s what it is.” + </p> + <p> + “How is this? It is not usual to close the gate by day.” + </p> + <p> + “Just look!” + </p> + <p> + John de Witt leaned out of the window, and indeed saw that the man was + right. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, but drive on,” said John, “I have with me the order for the + commutation of the punishment, the gate-keeper will let us through.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage moved along, but it was evident that the driver was no longer + urging his horses with the same degree of confidence. + </p> + <p> + Moreover, as John de Witt put his head out of the carriage window, he was + seen and recognized by a brewer, who, being behind his companions, was + just shutting his door in all haste to join them at the Buytenhof. He + uttered a cry of surprise, and ran after two other men before him, whom he + overtook about a hundred yards farther on, and told them what he had seen. + The three men then stopped, looking after the carriage, being however not + yet quite sure as to whom it contained. + </p> + <p> + The carriage in the meanwhile arrived at the Tol-Hek. + </p> + <p> + “Open!” cried the coachman. + </p> + <p> + “Open!” echoed the gatekeeper, from the threshold of his lodge; “it’s all + very well to say ‘Open!’ but what am I to do it with?” + </p> + <p> + “With the key, to be sure!” said the coachman. + </p> + <p> + “With the key! Oh, yes! but if you have not got it?” + </p> + <p> + “How is that? Have not you got the key?” asked the coachman. + </p> + <p> + “No, I haven’t.” + </p> + <p> + “What has become of it?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, they have taken it from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Who?” + </p> + <p> + “Some one, I dare say, who had a mind that no one should leave the town.” + </p> + <p> + “My good man,” said the Grand Pensionary, putting out his head from the + window, and risking all for gaining all; “my good man, it is for me, John + de Witt, and for my brother Cornelius, who I am taking away into exile.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mynheer de Witt! I am indeed very much grieved,” said the gatekeeper, + rushing towards the carriage; “but, upon my sacred word, the key has been + taken from me.” + </p> + <p> + “When?” + </p> + <p> + “This morning.” + </p> + <p> + “By whom?” + </p> + <p> + “By a pale and thin young man, of about twenty-two.” + </p> + <p> + “And wherefore did you give it up to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he showed me an order, signed and sealed.” + </p> + <p> + “By whom?” + </p> + <p> + “By the gentlemen of the Town-hall.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said Cornelius calmly, “our doom seems to be fixed.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know whether the same precaution has been taken at the other + gates?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not.” + </p> + <p> + “Now then,” said John to the coachman, “God commands man to do all that is + in his power to preserve his life; go, and drive to another gate.” + </p> + <p> + And whilst the servant was turning round the vehicle the Grand Pensionary + said to the gatekeeper,— + </p> + <p> + “Take our thanks for your good intentions; the will must count for the + deed; you had the will to save us, and that, in the eyes of the Lord, is + as if you had succeeded in doing so.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said the gatekeeper, “do you see down there?” + </p> + <p> + “Drive at a gallop through that group,” John called out to the coachman, + “and take the street on the left; it is our only chance.” + </p> + <p> + The group which John alluded to had, for its nucleus, those three men whom + we left looking after the carriage, and who, in the meanwhile, had been + joined by seven or eight others. + </p> + <p> + These new-comers evidently meant mischief with regard to the carriage. + </p> + <p> + When they saw the horses galloping down upon them, they placed themselves + across the street, brandishing cudgels in their hands, and calling out,— + </p> + <p> + “Stop! stop!” + </p> + <p> + The coachman, on his side, lashed his horses into increased speed, until + the coach and the men encountered. + </p> + <p> + The brothers De Witt, enclosed within the body of the carriage, were not + able to see anything; but they felt a severe shock, occasioned by the + rearing of the horses. The whole vehicle for a moment shook and stopped; + but immediately after, passing over something round and elastic, which + seemed to be the body of a prostrate man set off again amidst a volley of + the fiercest oaths. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said Cornelius, “I am afraid we have hurt some one.” + </p> + <p> + “Gallop! gallop!” called John. + </p> + <p> + But, notwithstanding this order, the coachman suddenly came to a stop. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, what is the matter again?” asked John. + </p> + <p> + “Look there!” said the coachman. + </p> + <p> + John looked. The whole mass of the populace from the Buytenhof appeared at + the extremity of the street along which the carriage was to proceed, and + its stream moved roaring and rapid, as if lashed on by a hurricane. + </p> + <p> + “Stop and get off,” said John to the coachman; “it is useless to go any + farther; we are lost!” + </p> + <p> + “Here they are! here they are!” five hundred voices were crying at the + same time. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, here they are, the traitors, the murderers, the assassins!” answered + the men who were running after the carriage to the people who were coming + to meet it. The former carried in their arms the bruised body of one of + their companions, who, trying to seize the reins of the horses, had been + trodden down by them. + </p> + <p> + This was the object over which the two brothers had felt their carriage + pass. + </p> + <p> + The coachman stopped, but, however strongly his master urged him, he + refused to get off and save himself. + </p> + <p> + In an instant the carriage was hemmed in between those who followed and + those who met it. It rose above the mass of moving heads like a floating + island. But in another instant it came to a dead stop. A blacksmith had + with his hammer struck down one of the horses, which fell in the traces. + </p> + <p> + At this moment, the shutter of a window opened, and disclosed the sallow + face and the dark eyes of the young man, who with intense interest watched + the scene which was preparing. Behind him appeared the head of the + officer, almost as pale as himself. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens, Monseigneur, what is going on there?” whispered the + officer. + </p> + <p> + “Something very terrible, to a certainty,” replied the other. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see, Monseigneur, they are dragging the Grand Pensionary from + the carriage, they strike him, they tear him to pieces!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, these people must certainly be prompted by a most violent + indignation,” said the young man, with the same impassible tone which he + had preserved all along. + </p> + <p> + “And here is Cornelius, whom they now likewise drag out of the carriage,—Cornelius, + who is already quite broken and mangled by the torture. Only look, look!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, it is Cornelius, and no mistake.” + </p> + <p> + The officer uttered a feeble cry, and turned his head away; the brother of + the Grand Pensionary, before having set foot on the ground, whilst still + on the bottom step of the carriage, was struck down with an iron bar which + broke his skull. He rose once more, but immediately fell again. + </p> + <p> + Some fellows then seized him by the feet, and dragged him into the crowd, + into the middle of which one might have followed his bloody track, and he + was soon closed in among the savage yells of malignant exultation. + </p> + <p> + The young man—a thing which would have been thought impossible—grew + even paler than before, and his eyes were for a moment veiled behind the + lids. + </p> + <p> + The officer saw this sign of compassion, and, wishing to avail himself of + this softened tone of his feelings, continued,— + </p> + <p> + “Come, come, Monseigneur, for here they are also going to murder the Grand + Pensionary.” + </p> + <p> + But the young man had already opened his eyes again. + </p> + <p> + “To be sure,” he said. “These people are really implacable. It does no one + good to offend them.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” said the officer, “may not one save this poor man, who has + been your Highness’s instructor? If there be any means, name it, and if I + should perish in the attempt——” + </p> + <p> + William of Orange—for he it was—knit his brows in a very + forbidding manner, restrained the glance of gloomy malice which glistened + in his half-closed eye, and answered,— + </p> + <p> + “Captain Van Deken, I request you to go and look after my troops, that + they may be armed for any emergency.” + </p> + <p> + “But am I to leave your Highness here, alone, in the presence of all these + murderers?” + </p> + <p> + “Go, and don’t you trouble yourself about me more than I do myself,” the + Prince gruffly replied. + </p> + <p> + The officer started off with a speed which was much less owing to his + sense of military obedience than to his pleasure at being relieved from + the necessity of witnessing the shocking spectacle of the murder of the + other brother. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely left the room, when John—who, with an almost + superhuman effort, had reached the stone steps of a house nearly opposite + that where his former pupil concealed himself—began to stagger under + the blows which were inflicted on him from all sides, calling out,— + </p> + <p> + “My brother! where is my brother?” + </p> + <p> + One of the ruffians knocked off his hat with a blow of his clenched fist. + </p> + <p> + Another showed to him his bloody hands; for this fellow had ripped open + Cornelius and disembowelled him, and was now hastening to the spot in + order not to lose the opportunity of serving the Grand Pensionary in the + same manner, whilst they were dragging the dead body of Cornelius to the + gibbet. + </p> + <p> + John uttered a cry of agony and grief, and put one of his hands before his + eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you close your eyes, do you?” said one of the soldiers of the burgher + guard; “well, I shall open them for you.” + </p> + <p> + And saying this he stabbed him with his pike in the face, and the blood + spurted forth. + </p> + <p> + “My brother!” cried John de Witt, trying to see through the stream of + blood which blinded him, what had become of Cornelius; “my brother, my + brother!” + </p> + <p> + “Go and run after him!” bellowed another murderer, putting his musket to + his temples and pulling the trigger. + </p> + <p> + But the gun did not go off. + </p> + <p> + The fellow then turned his musket round, and, taking it by the barrel with + both hands, struck John de Witt down with the butt-end. John staggered and + fell down at his feet, but, raising himself with a last effort, he once + more called out,— + </p> + <p> + “My brother!” with a voice so full of anguish that the young man opposite + closed the shutter. + </p> + <p> + There remained little more to see; a third murderer fired a pistol with + the muzzle to his face; and this time the shot took effect, blowing out + his brains. John de Witt fell to rise no more. + </p> + <p> + On this, every one of the miscreants, emboldened by his fall, wanted to + fire his gun at him, or strike him with blows of the sledge-hammer, or + stab him with a knife or swords, every one wanted to draw a drop of blood + from the fallen hero, and tear off a shred from his garments. + </p> + <p> + And after having mangled, and torn, and completely stripped the two + brothers, the mob dragged their naked and bloody bodies to an extemporised + gibbet, where amateur executioners hung them up by the feet. + </p> + <p> + Then came the most dastardly scoundrels of all, who not having dared to + strike the living flesh, cut the dead in pieces, and then went about the + town selling small slices of the bodies of John and Cornelius at ten sous + a piece. + </p> + <p> + We cannot take upon ourselves to say whether, through the almost + imperceptible chink of the shutter, the young man witnessed the conclusion + of this shocking scene; but at the very moment when they were hanging the + two martyrs on the gibbet he passed through the terrible mob, which was + too much absorbed in the task, so grateful to its taste, to take any + notice of him, and thus he reached unobserved the Tol-Hek, which was still + closed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! sir,” said the gatekeeper, “do you bring me the key?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my man, here it is.” + </p> + <p> + “It is most unfortunate that you did not bring me that key only one + quarter of an hour sooner,” said the gatekeeper, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “And why that?” asked the other. + </p> + <p> + “Because I might have opened the gate to Mynheers de Witt; whereas, + finding the gate locked, they were obliged to retrace their steps.” + </p> + <p> + “Gate! gate!” cried a voice which seemed to be that of a man in a hurry. + </p> + <p> + The Prince, turning round, observed Captain Van Deken. + </p> + <p> + “Is that you, Captain?” he said. “You are not yet out of the Hague? This + is executing my orders very slowly.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” replied the Captain, “this is the third gate at which I + have presented myself; the other two were closed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, this good man will open this one for you; do it, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + The last words were addressed to the gatekeeper, who stood quite + thunderstruck on hearing Captain Van Deken addressing by the title of + Monseigneur this pale young man, to whom he himself had spoken in such a + familiar way. + </p> + <p> + As it were to make up for his fault, he hastened to open the gate, which + swung creaking on its hinges. + </p> + <p> + “Will Monseigneur avail himself of my horse?” asked the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, Captain, I shall use my own steed, which is waiting for me + close at hand.” + </p> + <p> + And taking from his pocket a golden whistle, such as was generally used at + that time for summoning the servants, he sounded it with a shrill and + prolonged call, on which an equerry on horseback speedily made his + appearance, leading another horse by the bridle. + </p> + <p> + William, without touching the stirrup, vaulted into the saddle of the led + horse, and, setting his spurs into its flanks, started off for the Leyden + road. Having reached it, he turned round and beckoned to the Captain who + was far behind, to ride by his side. + </p> + <p> + “Do you know,” he then said, without stopping, “that those rascals have + killed John de Witt as well as his brother?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! Monseigneur,” the Captain answered sadly, “I should like it much + better if these two difficulties were still in your Highness’s way of + becoming de facto Stadtholder of Holland.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, it would have been better,” said William, “if what did happen + had not happened. But it cannot be helped now, and we have had nothing to + do with it. Let us push on, Captain, that we may arrive at Alphen before + the message which the States-General are sure to send to me to the camp.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain bowed, allowed the Prince to ride ahead and, for the remainder + of the journey, kept at the same respectful distance as he had done before + his Highness called him to his side. + </p> + <p> + “How I should wish,” William of Orange malignantly muttered to himself, + with a dark frown and setting the spurs to his horse, “to see the figure + which Louis will cut when he is apprised of the manner in which his dear + friends De Witt have been served! Oh thou Sun! thou Sun! as truly as I am + called William the Silent, thou Sun, thou hadst best look to thy rays!” + </p> + <p> + And the young Prince, the relentless rival of the Great King, sped away + upon his fiery steed,—this future Stadtholder who had been but the + day before very uncertainly established in his new power, but for whom the + burghers of the Hague had built a staircase with the bodies of John and + Cornelius, two princes as noble as he in the eyes of God and man. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5. The Tulip-fancier and his Neighbour + </h2> + <p> + Whilst the burghers of the Hague were tearing in pieces the bodies of John + and Cornelius de Witt, and whilst William of Orange, after having made + sure that his two antagonists were really dead, was galloping over the + Leyden road, followed by Captain van Deken, whom he found a little too + compassionate to honour him any longer with his confidence, Craeke, the + faithful servant, mounted on a good horse, and little suspecting what + terrible events had taken place since his departure, proceeded along the + high road lined with trees, until he was clear of the town and the + neighbouring villages. + </p> + <p> + Being once safe, he left his horse at a livery stable in order not to + arouse suspicion, and tranquilly continued his journey on the canal-boats, + which conveyed him by easy stages to Dort, pursuing their way under + skilful guidance by the shortest possible routes through the windings of + the river, which held in its watery embrace so many enchanting little + islands, edged with willows and rushes, and abounding in luxurious + vegetation, whereon flocks of fat sheep browsed in peaceful sleepiness. + Craeke from afar off recognised Dort, the smiling city, at the foot of a + hill dotted with windmills. He saw the fine red brick houses, mortared in + white lines, standing on the edge of the water, and their balconies, open + towards the river, decked out with silk tapestry embroidered with gold + flowers, the wonderful manufacture of India and China; and near these + brilliant stuffs, large lines set to catch the voracious eels, which are + attracted towards the houses by the garbage thrown every day from the + kitchens into the river. + </p> + <p> + Craeke, standing on the deck of the boat, saw, across the moving sails of + the windmills, on the slope of the hill, the red and pink house which was + the goal of his errand. The outlines of its roof were merging in the + yellow foliage of a curtain of poplar trees, the whole habitation having + for background a dark grove of gigantic elms. The mansion was situated in + such a way that the sun, falling on it as into a funnel, dried up, warmed, + and fertilised the mist which the verdant screen could not prevent the + river wind from carrying there every morning and evening. + </p> + <p> + Having disembarked unobserved amid the usual bustle of the city, Craeke at + once directed his steps towards the house which we have just described, + and which—white, trim, and tidy, even more cleanly scoured and more + carefully waxed in the hidden corners than in the places which were + exposed to view—enclosed a truly happy mortal. + </p> + <p> + This happy mortal, rara avis, was Dr. van Baerle, the godson of Cornelius + de Witt. He had inhabited the same house ever since his childhood, for it + was the house in which his father and grandfather, old established + princely merchants of the princely city of Dort, were born. + </p> + <p> + Mynheer van Baerle the father had amassed in the Indian trade three or + four hundred thousand guilders, which Mynheer van Baerle the son, at the + death of his dear and worthy parents, found still quite new, although one + set of them bore the date of coinage of 1640, and the other that of 1610, + a fact which proved that they were guilders of Van Baerle the father and + of Van Baerle the grandfather; but we will inform the reader at once that + these three or four hundred thousand guilders were only the pocket money, + or sort of purse, for Cornelius van Baerle, the hero of this story, as his + landed property in the province yielded him an income of about ten + thousand guilders a year. + </p> + <p> + When the worthy citizen, the father of Cornelius, passed from time into + eternity, three months after having buried his wife, who seemed to have + departed first to smooth for him the path of death as she had smoothed for + him the path of life, he said to his son, as he embraced him for the last + time,— + </p> + <p> + “Eat, drink, and spend your money, if you wish to know what life really + is, for as to toiling from morn to evening on a wooden stool, or a + leathern chair, in a counting-house or a laboratory, that certainly is not + living. Your time to die will also come; and if you are not then so + fortunate as to have a son, you will let my name grow extinct, and my + guilders, which no one has ever fingered but my father, myself, and the + coiner, will have the surprise of passing to an unknown master. And least + of all, imitate the example of your godfather, Cornelius de Witt, who has + plunged into politics, the most ungrateful of all careers, and who will + certainly come to an untimely end.” + </p> + <p> + Having given utterance to this paternal advice, the worthy Mynheer van + Baerle died, to the intense grief of his son Cornelius, who cared very + little for the guilders, and very much for his father. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius then remained alone in his large house. In vain his godfather + offered to him a place in the public service,—in vain did he try to + give him a taste for glory,—although Cornelius, to gratify his + godfather, did embark with De Ruyter upon “The Seven Provinces,” the + flagship of a fleet of one hundred and thirty-nine sail, with which the + famous admiral set out to contend singlehanded against the combined forces + of France and England. When, guided by the pilot Leger, he had come within + musket-shot of the “Prince,” with the Duke of York (the English king’s + brother) aboard, upon which De Ruyter, his mentor, made so sharp and well + directed an attack that the Duke, perceiving that his vessel would soon + have to strike, made the best of his way aboard the “Saint Michael”; when + he had seen the “Saint Michael,” riddled and shattered by the Dutch + broadside, drift out of the line; when he had witnessed the sinking of the + “Earl of Sandwich,” and the death by fire or drowning of four hundred + sailors; when he realized that the result of all this destruction—after + twenty ships had been blown to pieces, three thousand men killed and five + thousand injured—was that nothing was decided, that both sides + claimed the victory, that the fighting would soon begin again, and that + just one more name, that of Southwold Bay, had been added to the list of + battles; when he had estimated how much time is lost simply in shutting + his eyes and ears by a man who likes to use his reflective powers even + while his fellow creatures are cannonading one another;—Cornelius + bade farewell to De Ruyter, to the Ruart de Pulten, and to glory, kissed + the knees of the Grand Pensionary, for whom he entertained the deepest + veneration, and retired to his house at Dort, rich in his well-earned + repose, his twenty-eight years, an iron constitution and keen perceptions, + and his capital of more than four hundred thousands of florins and income + of ten thousand, convinced that a man is always endowed by Heaven with too + much for his own happiness, and just enough to make him miserable. + </p> + <p> + Consequently, and to indulge his own idea of happiness, Cornelius began to + be interested in the study of plants and insects, collected and classified + the Flora of all the Dutch islands, arranged the whole entomology of the + province, on which he wrote a treatise, with plates drawn by his own + hands; and at last, being at a loss what to do with his time, and + especially with his money, which went on accumulating at a most alarming + rate, he took it into his head to select for himself, from all the follies + of his country and of his age, one of the most elegant and expensive,—he + became a tulip-fancier. + </p> + <p> + It was the time when the Dutch and the Portuguese, rivalling each other in + this branch of horticulture, had begun to worship that flower, and to make + more of a cult of it than ever naturalists dared to make of the human race + for fear of arousing the jealousy of God. + </p> + <p> + Soon people from Dort to Mons began to talk of Mynheer van Baerle’s + tulips; and his beds, pits, drying-rooms, and drawers of bulbs were + visited, as the galleries and libraries of Alexandria were by illustrious + Roman travellers. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle began by expending his yearly revenue in laying the groundwork + of his collection, after which he broke in upon his new guilders to bring + it to perfection. His exertions, indeed, were crowned with a most + magnificent result: he produced three new tulips, which he called the + “Jane,” after his mother; the “Van Baerle,” after his father; and the + “Cornelius,” after his godfather; the other names have escaped us, but the + fanciers will be sure to find them in the catalogues of the times. + </p> + <p> + In the beginning of the year 1672, Cornelius de Witt came to Dort for + three months, to live at his old family mansion; for not only was he born + in that city, but his family had been resident there for centuries. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, at that period, as William of Orange said, began to enjoy the + most perfect unpopularity. To his fellow citizens, the good burghers of + Dort, however, he did not appear in the light of a criminal who deserved + to be hung. It is true, they did not particularly like his somewhat + austere republicanism, but they were proud of his valour; and when he made + his entrance into their town, the cup of honour was offered to him, + readily enough, in the name of the city. + </p> + <p> + After having thanked his fellow citizens, Cornelius proceeded to his old + paternal house, and gave directions for some repairs, which he wished to + have executed before the arrival of his wife and children; and thence he + wended his way to the house of his godson, who perhaps was the only person + in Dort as yet unacquainted with the presence of Cornelius in the town. + </p> + <p> + In the same degree as Cornelius de Witt had excited the hatred of the + people by sowing those evil seeds which are called political passions, Van + Baerle had gained the affections of his fellow citizens by completely + shunning the pursuit of politics, absorbed as he was in the peaceful + pursuit of cultivating tulips. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle was truly beloved by his servants and labourers; nor had he any + conception that there was in this world a man who wished ill to another. + </p> + <p> + And yet it must be said, to the disgrace of mankind, that Cornelius van + Baerle, without being aware of the fact, had a much more ferocious, + fierce, and implacable enemy than the Grand Pensionary and his brother had + among the Orange party, who were most hostile to the devoted brothers, who + had never been sundered by the least misunderstanding during their lives, + and by their mutual devotion in the face of death made sure the existence + of their brotherly affection beyond the grave. + </p> + <p> + At the time when Cornelius van Baerle began to devote himself to + tulip-growing, expending on this hobby his yearly revenue and the guilders + of his father, there was at Dort, living next door to him, a citizen of + the name of Isaac Boxtel who from the age when he was able to think for + himself had indulged the same fancy, and who was in ecstasies at the mere + mention of the word “tulban,” which (as we are assured by the “Floriste + Francaise,” the most highly considered authority in matters relating to + this flower) is the first word in the Cingalese tongue which was ever used + to designate that masterpiece of floriculture which is now called the + tulip. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel had not the good fortune of being rich, like Van Baerle. He had + therefore, with great care and patience, and by dint of strenuous + exertions, laid out near his house at Dort a garden fit for the culture of + his cherished flower; he had mixed the soil according to the most approved + prescriptions, and given to his hotbeds just as much heat and fresh air as + the strictest rules of horticulture exact. + </p> + <p> + Isaac knew the temperature of his frames to the twentieth part of a + degree. He knew the strength of the current of air, and tempered it so as + to adapt it to the wave of the stems of his flowers. His productions also + began to meet with the favour of the public. They were beautiful, nay, + distinguished. Several fanciers had come to see Boxtel’s tulips. At last + he had even started amongst all the Linnaeuses and Tourneforts a tulip + which bore his name, and which, after having travelled all through France, + had found its way into Spain, and penetrated as far as Portugal; and the + King, Don Alfonso VI.—who, being expelled from Lisbon, had retired + to the island of Terceira, where he amused himself, not, like the great + Condé, with watering his carnations, but with growing tulips—had, on + seeing the Boxtel tulip, exclaimed, “Not so bad, by any means!” + </p> + <p> + All at once, Cornelius van Baerle, who, after all his learned pursuits, + had been seized with the tulipomania, made some changes in his house at + Dort, which, as we have stated, was next door to that of Boxtel. He raised + a certain building in his court-yard by a story, which shutting out the + sun, took half a degree of warmth from Boxtel’s garden, and, on the other + hand, added half a degree of cold in winter; not to mention that it cut + the wind, and disturbed all the horticultural calculations and + arrangements of his neighbour. + </p> + <p> + After all, this mishap appeared to Boxtel of no great consequence. Van + Baerle was but a painter, a sort of fool who tried to reproduce and + disfigure on canvas the wonders of nature. The painter, he thought, had + raised his studio by a story to get better light, and thus far he had only + been in the right. Mynheer van Baerle was a painter, as Mynheer Boxtel was + a tulip-grower; he wanted somewhat more sun for his paintings, and he took + half a degree from his neighbour’s tulips. + </p> + <p> + The law was for Van Baerle, and Boxtel had to abide by it. + </p> + <p> + Besides, Isaac had made the discovery that too much sun was injurious to + tulips, and that this flower grew quicker, and had a better colouring, + with the temperate warmth of morning, than with the powerful heat of the + midday sun. He therefore felt almost grateful to Cornelius van Baerle for + having given him a screen gratis. + </p> + <p> + Maybe this was not quite in accordance with the true state of things in + general, and of Isaac Boxtel’s feelings in particular. It is certainly + astonishing what rich comfort great minds, in the midst of momentous + catastrophes, will derive from the consolations of philosophy. + </p> + <p> + But alas! What was the agony of the unfortunate Boxtel on seeing the + windows of the new story set out with bulbs and seedlings of tulips for + the border, and tulips in pots; in short, with everything pertaining to + the pursuits of a tulip-monomaniac! + </p> + <p> + There were bundles of labels, cupboards, and drawers with compartments, + and wire guards for the cupboards, to allow free access to the air whilst + keeping out slugs, mice, dormice, and rats, all of them very curious + fanciers of tulips at two thousand francs a bulb. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel was quite amazed when he saw all this apparatus, but he was not as + yet aware of the full extent of his misfortune. Van Baerle was known to be + fond of everything that pleases the eye. He studied Nature in all her + aspects for the benefit of his paintings, which were as minutely finished + as those of Gerard Dow, his master, and of Mieris, his friend. Was it not + possible, that, having to paint the interior of a tulip-grower’s, he had + collected in his new studio all the accessories of decoration? + </p> + <p> + Yet, although thus consoling himself with illusory suppositions, Boxtel + was not able to resist the burning curiosity which was devouring him. In + the evening, therefore, he placed a ladder against the partition wall + between their gardens, and, looking into that of his neighbour Van Baerle, + he convinced himself that the soil of a large square bed, which had + formerly been occupied by different plants, was removed, and the ground + disposed in beds of loam mixed with river mud (a combination which is + particularly favourable to the tulip), and the whole surrounded by a + border of turf to keep the soil in its place. Besides this, sufficient + shade to temper the noonday heat; aspect south-southwest; water in + abundant supply, and at hand; in short, every requirement to insure not + only success but also progress. There could not be a doubt that Van Baerle + had become a tulip-grower. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel at once pictured to himself this learned man, with a capital of + four hundred thousand and a yearly income of ten thousand guilders, + devoting all his intellectual and financial resources to the cultivation + of the tulip. He foresaw his neighbour’s success, and he felt such a pang + at the mere idea of this success that his hands dropped powerless, his + knees trembled, and he fell in despair from the ladder. + </p> + <p> + And thus it was not for the sake of painted tulips, but for real ones, + that Van Baerle took from him half a degree of warmth. And thus Van Baerle + was to have the most admirably fitted aspect, and, besides, a large, airy, + and well ventilated chamber where to preserve his bulbs and seedlings; + while he, Boxtel, had been obliged to give up for this purpose his + bedroom, and, lest his sleeping in the same apartment might injure his + bulbs and seedlings, had taken up his abode in a miserable garret. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, then, was to have next door to him a rival and successful + competitor; and his rival, instead of being some unknown, obscure + gardener, was the godson of Mynheer Cornelius de Witt, that is to say, a + celebrity. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, as the reader may see, was not possessed of the spirit of Porus, + who, on being conquered by Alexander, consoled himself with the celebrity + of his conqueror. + </p> + <p> + And now if Van Baerle produced a new tulip, and named it the John de Witt, + after having named one the Cornelius? It was indeed enough to choke one + with rage. + </p> + <p> + Thus Boxtel, with jealous foreboding, became the prophet of his own + misfortune. And, after having made this melancholy discovery, he passed + the most wretched night imaginable. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 6. The Hatred of a Tulip-fancier + </h2> + <p> + From that moment Boxtel’s interest in tulips was no longer a stimulus to + his exertions, but a deadening anxiety. Henceforth all his thoughts ran + only upon the injury which his neighbour would cause him, and thus his + favourite occupation was changed into a constant source of misery to him. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle, as may easily be imagined, had no sooner begun to apply his + natural ingenuity to his new fancy, than he succeeded in growing the + finest tulips. Indeed, he knew better than any one else at Haarlem or + Leyden—the two towns which boast the best soil and the most + congenial climate—how to vary the colours, to modify the shape, and + to produce new species. + </p> + <p> + He belonged to that natural, humorous school who took for their motto in + the seventeenth century the aphorism uttered by one of their number in + 1653,—“To despise flowers is to offend God.” + </p> + <p> + From that premise the school of tulip-fanciers, the most exclusive of all + schools, worked out the following syllogism in the same year:— + </p> + <p> + “To despise flowers is to offend God. + </p> + <p> + “The more beautiful the flower is, the more does one offend God in + despising it. + </p> + <p> + “The tulip is the most beautiful of all flowers. + </p> + <p> + “Therefore, he who despises the tulip offends God beyond measure.” + </p> + <p> + By reasoning of this kind, it can be seen that the four or five thousand + tulip-growers of Holland, France, and Portugal, leaving out those of + Ceylon and China and the Indies, might, if so disposed, put the whole + world under the ban, and condemn as schismatics and heretics and deserving + of death the several hundred millions of mankind whose hopes of salvation + were not centred upon the tulip. + </p> + <p> + We cannot doubt that in such a cause Boxtel, though he was Van Baerle’s + deadly foe, would have marched under the same banner with him. + </p> + <p> + Mynheer van Baerle and his tulips, therefore, were in the mouth of + everybody; so much so, that Boxtel’s name disappeared for ever from the + list of the notable tulip-growers in Holland, and those of Dort were now + represented by Cornelius van Baerle, the modest and inoffensive savant. + </p> + <p> + Engaging, heart and soul, in his pursuits of sowing, planting, and + gathering, Van Baerle, caressed by the whole fraternity of tulip-growers + in Europe, entertained nor the least suspicion that there was at his very + door a pretender whose throne he had usurped. + </p> + <p> + He went on in his career, and consequently in his triumphs; and in the + course of two years he covered his borders with such marvellous + productions as no mortal man, following in the tracks of the Creator, + except perhaps Shakespeare and Rubens, have equalled in point of numbers. + </p> + <p> + And also, if Dante had wished for a new type to be added to his characters + of the Inferno, he might have chosen Boxtel during the period of Van + Baerle’s successes. Whilst Cornelius was weeding, manuring, watering his + beds, whilst, kneeling on the turf border, he analysed every vein of the + flowering tulips, and meditated on the modifications which might be + effected by crosses of colour or otherwise, Boxtel, concealed behind a + small sycamore which he had trained at the top of the partition wall in + the shape of a fan, watched, with his eyes starting from their sockets and + with foaming mouth, every step and every gesture of his neighbour; and + whenever he thought he saw him look happy, or descried a smile on his + lips, or a flash of contentment glistening in his eyes, he poured out + towards him such a volley of maledictions and furious threats as to make + it indeed a matter of wonder that this venomous breath of envy and hatred + did not carry a blight on the innocent flowers which had excited it. + </p> + <p> + When the evil spirit has once taken hold of the heart of man, it urges him + on, without letting him stop. Thus Boxtel soon was no longer content with + seeing Van Baerle. He wanted to see his flowers, too; he had the feelings + of an artist, the master-piece of a rival engrossed his interest. + </p> + <p> + He therefore bought a telescope, which enabled him to watch as accurately + as did the owner himself every progressive development of the flower, from + the moment when, in the first year, its pale seed-leaf begins to peep from + the ground, to that glorious one, when, after five years, its petals at + last reveal the hidden treasures of its chalice. How often had the + miserable, jealous man to observe in Van Baerle’s beds tulips which + dazzled him by their beauty, and almost choked him by their perfection! + </p> + <p> + And then, after the first blush of the admiration which he could not help + feeling, he began to be tortured by the pangs of envy, by that slow fever + which creeps over the heart and changes it into a nest of vipers, each + devouring the other and ever born anew. How often did Boxtel, in the midst + of tortures which no pen is able fully to describe,—how often did he + feel an inclination to jump down into the garden during the night, to + destroy the plants, to tear the bulbs with his teeth, and to sacrifice to + his wrath the owner himself, if he should venture to stand up for the + defence of his tulips! + </p> + <p> + But to kill a tulip was a horrible crime in the eyes of a genuine + tulip-fancier; as to killing a man, it would not have mattered so very + much. + </p> + <p> + Yet Van Baerle made such progress in the noble science of growing tulips, + which he seemed to master with the true instinct of genius, that Boxtel at + last was maddened to such a degree as to think of throwing stones and + sticks into the flower-stands of his neighbour. But, remembering that he + would be sure to be found out, and that he would not only be punished by + law, but also dishonoured for ever in the face of all the tulip-growers of + Europe, he had recourse to stratagem, and, to gratify his hatred, tried to + devise a plan by means of which he might gain his ends without being + compromised himself. + </p> + <p> + He considered a long time, and at last his meditations were crowned with + success. + </p> + <p> + One evening he tied two cats together by their hind legs with a string + about six feet in length, and threw them from the wall into the midst of + that noble, that princely, that royal bed, which contained not only the + “Cornelius de Witt,” but also the “Beauty of Brabant,” milk-white, edged + with purple and pink, the “Marble of Rotterdam,” colour of flax, blossoms + feathered red and flesh colour, the “Wonder of Haarlem,” the “Colombin + obscur,” and the “Columbin clair terni.” + </p> + <p> + The frightened cats, having alighted on the ground, first tried to fly + each in a different direction, until the string by which they were tied + together was tightly stretched across the bed; then, however, feeling that + they were not able to get off, they began to pull to and fro, and to wheel + about with hideous caterwaulings, mowing down with their string the + flowers among which they were struggling, until, after a furious strife of + about a quarter of an hour, the string broke and the combatants vanished. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, hidden behind his sycamore, could not see anything, as it was + pitch-dark; but the piercing cries of the cats told the whole tale, and + his heart overflowing with gall now throbbed with triumphant joy. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel was so eager to ascertain the extent of the injury, that he + remained at his post until morning to feast his eyes on the sad state in + which the two cats had left the flower-beds of his neighbour. The mists of + the morning chilled his frame, but he did not feel the cold, the hope of + revenge keeping his blood at fever heat. The chagrin of his rival was to + pay for all the inconvenience which he incurred himself. + </p> + <p> + At the earliest dawn the door of the white house opened, and Van Baerle + made his appearance, approaching the flower-beds with the smile of a man + who has passed the night comfortably in his bed, and has had happy dreams. + </p> + <p> + All at once he perceived furrows and little mounds of earth on the beds + which only the evening before had been as smooth as a mirror, all at once + he perceived the symmetrical rows of his tulips to be completely + disordered, like the pikes of a battalion in the midst of which a shell + has fallen. + </p> + <p> + He ran up to them with blanched cheek. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel trembled with joy. Fifteen or twenty tulips, torn and crushed, were + lying about, some of them bent, others completely broken and already + withering, the sap oozing from their bleeding bulbs: how gladly would Van + Baerle have redeemed that precious sap with his own blood! + </p> + <p> + But what were his surprise and his delight! what was the disappointment of + his rival! Not one of the four tulips which the latter had meant to + destroy was injured at all. They raised proudly their noble heads above + the corpses of their slain companions. This was enough to console Van + Baerle, and enough to fan the rage of the horticultural murderer, who tore + his hair at the sight of the effects of the crime which he had committed + in vain. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle could not imagine the cause of the mishap, which, fortunately, + was of far less consequence than it might have been. On making inquiries, + he learned that the whole night had been disturbed by terrible + caterwaulings. He besides found traces of the cats, their footmarks and + hairs left behind on the battle-field; to guard, therefore, in future + against a similar outrage, he gave orders that henceforth one of the under + gardeners should sleep in the garden in a sentry-box near the flower-beds. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel heard him give the order, and saw the sentry-box put up that very + day; but he deemed himself lucky in not having been suspected, and, being + more than ever incensed against the successful horticulturist, he resolved + to bide his time. + </p> + <p> + Just then the Tulip Society of Haarlem offered a prize for the discovery + (we dare not say the manufacture) of a large black tulip without a spot of + colour, a thing which had not yet been accomplished, and was considered + impossible, as at that time there did not exist a flower of that species + approaching even to a dark nut brown. It was, therefore, generally said + that the founders of the prize might just as well have offered two + millions as a hundred thousand guilders, since no one would be able to + gain it. + </p> + <p> + The tulip-growing world, however, was thrown by it into a state of most + active commotion. Some fanciers caught at the idea without believing it + practicable, but such is the power of imagination among florists, that + although considering the undertaking as certain to fail, all their + thoughts were engrossed by that great black tulip, which was looked upon + to be as chimerical as the black swan of Horace or the white raven of + French tradition. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle was one of the tulip-growers who were struck with the idea; + Boxtel thought of it in the light of a speculation. Van Baerle, as soon as + the idea had once taken root in his clear and ingenious mind, began slowly + the necessary planting and cross-breeding to reduce the tulips which he + had grown already from red to brown, and from brown to dark brown. + </p> + <p> + By the next year he had obtained flowers of a perfect nut-brown, and + Boxtel espied them in the border, whereas he had himself as yet only + succeeded in producing the light brown. + </p> + <p> + It might perhaps be interesting to explain to the gentle reader the + beautiful chain of theories which go to prove that the tulip borrows its + colors from the elements; perhaps we should give him pleasure if we were + to maintain and establish that nothing is impossible for a florist who + avails himself with judgment and discretion and patience of the sun’s + heat, the clear water, the juices of the earth, and the cool breezes. But + this is not a treatise upon tulips in general; it is the story of one + particular tulip which we have undertaken to write, and to that we limit + ourselves, however alluring the subject which is so closely allied to + ours. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, once more worsted by the superiority of his hated rival, was now + completely disgusted with tulip-growing, and, being driven half mad, + devoted himself entirely to observation. + </p> + <p> + The house of his rival was quite open to view; a garden exposed to the + sun; cabinets with glass walls, shelves, cupboards, boxes, and ticketed + pigeon-holes, which could easily be surveyed by the telescope. Boxtel + allowed his bulbs to rot in the pits, his seedlings to dry up in their + cases, and his tulips to wither in the borders and henceforward occupied + himself with nothing else but the doings at Van Baerle’s. He breathed + through the stalks of Van Baerle’s tulips, quenched his thirst with the + water he sprinkled upon them, and feasted on the fine soft earth which his + neighbour scattered upon his cherished bulbs. + </p> + <p> + But the most curious part of the operations was not performed in the + garden. + </p> + <p> + It might be one o’clock in the morning when Van Baerle went up to his + laboratory, into the glazed cabinet whither Boxtel’s telescope had such an + easy access; and here, as soon as the lamp illuminated the walls and + windows, Boxtel saw the inventive genius of his rival at work. + </p> + <p> + He beheld him sifting his seeds, and soaking them in liquids which were + destined to modify or to deepen their colours. He knew what Cornelius + meant when heating certain grains, then moistening them, then combining + them with others by a sort of grafting,—a minute and marvellously + delicate manipulation,—and when he shut up in darkness those which + were expected to furnish the black colour, exposed to the sun or to the + lamp those which were to produce red, and placed between the endless + reflections of two water-mirrors those intended for white, the pure + representation of the limpid element. + </p> + <p> + This innocent magic, the fruit at the same time of child-like musings and + of manly genius—this patient untiring labour, of which Boxtel knew + himself to be incapable—made him, gnawed as he was with envy, centre + all his life, all his thoughts, and all his hopes in his telescope. + </p> + <p> + For, strange to say, the love and interest of horticulture had not + deadened in Isaac his fierce envy and thirst of revenge. Sometimes, whilst + covering Van Baerle with his telescope, he deluded himself into a belief + that he was levelling a never-failing musket at him; and then he would + seek with his finger for the trigger to fire the shot which was to have + killed his neighbour. But it is time that we should connect with this + epoch of the operations of the one, and the espionage of the other, the + visit which Cornelius de Witt came to pay to his native town. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7. The Happy Man makes Acquaintance with Misfortune + </h2> + <p> + Cornelius de Witt, after having attended to his family affairs, reached + the house of his godson, Cornelius van Baerle, one evening in the month of + January, 1672. + </p> + <p> + De Witt, although being very little of a horticulturist or of an artist, + went over the whole mansion, from the studio to the green-house, + inspecting everything, from the pictures down to the tulips. He thanked + his godson for having joined him on the deck of the admiral’s ship “The + Seven Provinces,” during the battle of Southwold Bay, and for having given + his name to a magnificent tulip; and whilst he thus, with the kindness and + affability of a father to a son, visited Van Baerle’s treasures, the crowd + gathered with curiosity, and even respect, before the door of the happy + man. + </p> + <p> + All this hubbub excited the attention of Boxtel, who was just taking his + meal by his fireside. He inquired what it meant, and, on being informed of + the cause of all this stir, climbed up to his post of observation, where + in spite of the cold, he took his stand, with the telescope to his eye. + </p> + <p> + This telescope had not been of great service to him since the autumn of + 1671. The tulips, like true daughters of the East, averse to cold, do not + abide in the open ground in winter. They need the shelter of the house, + the soft bed on the shelves, and the congenial warmth of the stove. Van + Baerle, therefore, passed the whole winter in his laboratory, in the midst + of his books and pictures. He went only rarely to the room where he kept + his bulbs, unless it were to allow some occasional rays of the sun to + enter, by opening one of the movable sashes of the glass front. + </p> + <p> + On the evening of which we are speaking, after the two Corneliuses had + visited together all the apartments of the house, whilst a train of + domestics followed their steps, De Witt said in a low voice to Van Baerle,— + </p> + <p> + “My dear son, send these people away, and let us be alone for some + minutes.” + </p> + <p> + The younger Cornelius, bowing assent, said aloud,— + </p> + <p> + “Would you now, sir, please to see my dry-room?” + </p> + <p> + The dry-room, this pantheon, this sanctum sanctorum of the tulip-fancier, + was, as Delphi of old, interdicted to the profane uninitiated. + </p> + <p> + Never had any of his servants been bold enough to set his foot there. + Cornelius admitted only the inoffensive broom of an old Frisian + housekeeper, who had been his nurse, and who from the time when he had + devoted himself to the culture of tulips ventured no longer to put onions + in his stews, for fear of pulling to pieces and mincing the idol of her + foster child. + </p> + <p> + At the mere mention of the dry-room, therefore, the servants who were + carrying the lights respectfully fell back. Cornelius, taking the + candlestick from the hands of the foremost, conducted his godfather into + that room, which was no other than that very cabinet with a glass front + into which Boxtel was continually prying with his telescope. + </p> + <p> + The envious spy was watching more intently than ever. + </p> + <p> + First of all he saw the walls and windows lit up. + </p> + <p> + Then two dark figures appeared. + </p> + <p> + One of them, tall, majestic, stern, sat down near the table on which Van + Baerle had placed the taper. + </p> + <p> + In this figure, Boxtel recognised the pale features of Cornelius de Witt, + whose long hair, parted in front, fell over his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + De Witt, after having said some few words to Cornelius, the meaning of + which the prying neighbour could not read in the movement of his lips, + took from his breast pocket a white parcel, carefully sealed, which + Boxtel, judging from the manner in which Cornelius received it, and placed + it in one of the presses, supposed to contain papers of the greatest + importance. + </p> + <p> + His first thought was that this precious deposit enclosed some newly + imported bulbs from Bengal or Ceylon; but he soon reflected that Cornelius + de Witt was very little addicted to tulip-growing, and that he only + occupied himself with the affairs of man, a pursuit by far less peaceful + and agreeable than that of the florist. He therefore came to the + conclusion that the parcel contained simply some papers, and that these + papers were relating to politics. + </p> + <p> + But why should papers of political import be intrusted to Van Baerle, who + not only was, but also boasted of being, an entire stranger to the science + of government, which, in his opinion, was more occult than alchemy itself? + </p> + <p> + It was undoubtedly a deposit which Cornelius de Witt, already threatened + by the unpopularity with which his countrymen were going to honour him, + was placing in the hands of his godson; a contrivance so much the more + cleverly devised, as it certainly was not at all likely that it should be + searched for at the house of one who had always stood aloof from every + sort of intrigue. + </p> + <p> + And, besides, if the parcel had been made up of bulbs, Boxtel knew his + neighbour too well not to expect that Van Baerle would not have lost one + moment in satisfying his curiosity and feasting his eyes on the present + which he had received. + </p> + <p> + But, on the contrary, Cornelius had received the parcel from the hands of + his godfather with every mark of respect, and put it by with the same + respectful manner in a drawer, stowing it away so that it should not take + up too much of the room which was reserved to his bulbs. + </p> + <p> + The parcel thus being secreted, Cornelius de Witt got up, pressed the hand + of his godson, and turned towards the door, Van Baerle seizing the + candlestick, and lighting him on his way down to the street, which was + still crowded with people who wished to see their great fellow citizen + getting into his coach. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel had not been mistaken in his supposition. The deposit intrusted to + Van Baerle, and carefully locked up by him, was nothing more nor less than + John de Witt’s correspondence with the Marquis de Louvois, the war + minister of the King of France; only the godfather forbore giving to his + godson the least intimation concerning the political importance of the + secret, merely desiring him not to deliver the parcel to any one but to + himself, or to whomsoever he should send to claim it in his name. + </p> + <p> + And Van Baerle, as we have seen, locked it up with his most precious + bulbs, to think no more of it, after his godfather had left him; very + unlike Boxtel, who looked upon this parcel as a clever pilot does on the + distant and scarcely perceptible cloud which is increasing on its way and + which is fraught with a storm. + </p> + <p> + Little dreaming of the jealous hatred of his neighbour, Van Baerle had + proceeded step by step towards gaining the prize offered by the + Horticultural Society of Haarlem. He had progressed from hazel-nut shade + to that of roasted coffee, and on the very day when the frightful events + took place at the Hague which we have related in the preceding chapters, + we find him, about one o’clock in the day, gathering from the border the + young suckers raised from tulips of the colour of roasted coffee; and + which, being expected to flower for the first time in the spring of 1675, + would undoubtedly produce the large black tulip required by the Haarlem + Society. + </p> + <p> + On the 20th of August, 1672, at one o’clock, Cornelius was therefore in + his dry-room, with his feet resting on the foot-bar of the table, and his + elbows on the cover, looking with intense delight on three suckers which + he had just detached from the mother bulb, pure, perfect, and entire, and + from which was to grow that wonderful produce of horticulture which would + render the name of Cornelius van Baerle for ever illustrious. + </p> + <p> + “I shall find the black tulip,” said Cornelius to himself, whilst + detaching the suckers. “I shall obtain the hundred thousand guilders + offered by the Society. I shall distribute them among the poor of Dort; + and thus the hatred which every rich man has to encounter in times of + civil wars will be soothed down, and I shall be able, without fearing any + harm either from Republicans or Orangists, to keep as heretofore my + borders in splendid condition. I need no more be afraid lest on the day of + a riot the shopkeepers of the town and the sailors of the port should come + and tear out my bulbs, to boil them as onions for their families, as they + have sometimes quietly threatened when they happened to remember my having + paid two or three hundred guilders for one bulb. It is therefore settled I + shall give the hundred thousand guilders of the Haarlem prize to the poor. + And yet——” + </p> + <p> + Here Cornelius stopped and heaved a sigh. “And yet,” he continued, “it + would have been so very delightful to spend the hundred thousand guilders + on the enlargement of my tulip-bed or even on a journey to the East, the + country of beautiful flowers. But, alas! these are no thoughts for the + present times, when muskets, standards, proclamations, and beating of + drums are the order of the day.” + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle raised his eyes to heaven and sighed again. Then turning his + glance towards his bulbs,—objects of much greater importance to him + than all those muskets, standards, drums, and proclamations, which he + conceived only to be fit to disturb the minds of honest people,—he + said:— + </p> + <p> + “These are, indeed, beautiful bulbs; how smooth they are, how well formed; + there is that air of melancholy about them which promises to produce a + flower of the colour of ebony. On their skin you cannot even distinguish + the circulating veins with the naked eye. Certainly, certainly, not a + light spot will disfigure the tulip which I have called into existence. + And by what name shall we call this offspring of my sleepless nights, of + my labour and my thought? Tulipa nigra Barlœnsis? + </p> + <p> + “Yes Barlœnsis: a fine name. All the tulip-fanciers—that is to say, + all the intelligent people of Europe—will feel a thrill of + excitement when the rumour spreads to the four quarters of the globe: The + grand black tulip is found! ‘How is it called?’ the fanciers will ask.—‘Tulipa + nigra Barlœnsis!’—‘Why Barlœnsis?’—‘After its grower, Van + Baerle,’ will be the answer.—‘And who is this Van Baerle?’—‘It + is the same who has already produced five new tulips: the Jane, the John + de Witt, the Cornelius de Witt, etc.’ Well, that is what I call my + ambition. It will cause tears to no one. And people will talk of my Tulipa + nigra Barlœnsis when perhaps my godfather, this sublime politician, is + only known from the tulip to which I have given his name. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! these darling bulbs! + </p> + <p> + “When my tulip has flowered,” Baerle continued in his soliloquy, “and when + tranquillity is restored in Holland, I shall give to the poor only fifty + thousand guilders, which, after all, is a goodly sum for a man who is + under no obligation whatever. Then, with the remaining fifty thousand + guilders, I shall make experiments. With them I shall succeed in imparting + scent to the tulip. Ah! if I succeed in giving it the odour of the rose or + the carnation, or, what would be still better, a completely new scent; if + I restored to this queen of flowers its natural distinctive perfume, which + she has lost in passing from her Eastern to her European throne, and which + she must have in the Indian peninsula at Goa, Bombay, and Madras, and + especially in that island which in olden times, as is asserted, was the + terrestrial paradise, and which is called Ceylon,—oh, what glory! I + must say, I would then rather be Cornelius van Baerle than Alexander, + Cæsar, or Maximilian. + </p> + <p> + “Oh the admirable bulbs!” + </p> + <p> + Thus Cornelius indulged in the delights of contemplation, and was carried + away by the sweetest dreams. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly the bell of his cabinet was rung much more violently than usual. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, startled, laid his hands on his bulbs, and turned round. + </p> + <p> + “Who is here?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” answered the servant, “it is a messenger from the Hague.” + </p> + <p> + “A messenger from the Hague! What does he want?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, it is Craeke.” + </p> + <p> + “Craeke! the confidential servant of Mynheer John de Witt? Good, let him + wait.” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot wait,” said a voice in the lobby. + </p> + <p> + And at the same time forcing his way in, Craeke rushed into the dry-room. + </p> + <p> + This abrupt entrance was such an infringement on the established rules of + the household of Cornelius van Baerle, that the latter, at the sight of + Craeke, almost convulsively moved his hand which covered the bulbs, so + that two of them fell on the floor, one of them rolling under a small + table, and the other into the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + “Zounds!” said Cornelius, eagerly picking up his precious bulbs, “what’s + the matter?” + </p> + <p> + “The matter, sir!” said Craeke, laying a paper on the large table, on + which the third bulb was lying,—“the matter is, that you are + requested to read this paper without losing one moment.” + </p> + <p> + And Craeke, who thought he had remarked in the streets of Dort symptoms of + a tumult similar to that which he had witnessed before his departure from + the Hague, ran off without even looking behind him. + </p> + <p> + “All right! all right! my dear Craeke,” said Cornelius, stretching his arm + under the table for the bulb; “your paper shall be read, indeed it shall.” + </p> + <p> + Then, examining the bulb which he held in the hollow of his hand, he said: + “Well, here is one of them uninjured. That confounded Craeke! thus to rush + into my dry-room; let us now look after the other.” + </p> + <p> + And without laying down the bulb which he already held, Baerle went to the + fireplace, knelt down and stirred with the tip of his finger the ashes, + which fortunately were quite cold. + </p> + <p> + He at once felt the other bulb. + </p> + <p> + “Well, here it is,” he said; and, looking at it with almost fatherly + affection, he exclaimed, “Uninjured as the first!” + </p> + <p> + At this very instant, and whilst Cornelius, still on his knees, was + examining his pets, the door of the dry-room was so violently shaken, and + opened in such a brusque manner, that Cornelius felt rising in his cheeks + and his ears the glow of that evil counsellor which is called wrath. + </p> + <p> + “Now, what is it again,” he demanded; “are people going mad here?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir! sir!” cried the servant, rushing into the dry-room with a much + paler face and with a much more frightened mien than Craeke had shown. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” asked Cornelius, foreboding some mischief from the double breach + of the strict rule of his house. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, fly! fly quick!” cried the servant. + </p> + <p> + “Fly! and what for?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir, the house is full of the guards of the States.” + </p> + <p> + “What do they want?” + </p> + <p> + “They want you.” + </p> + <p> + “What for?” + </p> + <p> + “To arrest you.” + </p> + <p> + “Arrest me? arrest me, do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, and they are headed by a magistrate.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the meaning of all this?” said Van Baerle, grasping in his hands + the two bulbs, and directing his terrified glance towards the staircase. + </p> + <p> + “They are coming up! they are coming up!” cried the servant. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear child, my worthy master!” cried the old housekeeper, who now + likewise made her appearance in the dry-room, “take your gold, your + jewelry, and fly, fly!” + </p> + <p> + “But how shall I make my escape, nurse?” said Van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + “Jump out of the window.” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-five feet from the ground!” + </p> + <p> + “But you will fall on six feet of soft soil!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I should fall on my tulips.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, jump out.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius took the third bulb, approached the window and opened it, but + seeing what havoc he would necessarily cause in his borders, and, more + than this, what a height he would have to jump, he called out, “Never!” + and fell back a step. + </p> + <p> + At this moment they saw across the banister of the staircase the points of + the halberds of the soldiers rising. + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper raised her hands to heaven. + </p> + <p> + As to Cornelius van Baerle, it must be stated to his honour, not as a man, + but as a tulip-fancier, his only thought was for his inestimable bulbs. + </p> + <p> + Looking about for a paper in which to wrap them up, he noticed the + fly-leaf from the Bible, which Craeke had laid upon the table, took it + without in his confusion remembering whence it came, folded in it the + three bulbs, secreted them in his bosom, and waited. + </p> + <p> + At this very moment the soldiers, preceded by a magistrate, entered the + room. + </p> + <p> + “Are you Dr. Cornelius van Baerle?” demanded the magistrate (who, although + knowing the young man very well, put his question according to the forms + of justice, which gave his proceedings a much more dignified air). + </p> + <p> + “I am that person, Master van Spennen,” answered Cornelius, politely, to + his judge, “and you know it very well.” + </p> + <p> + “Then give up to us the seditious papers which you secrete in your house.” + </p> + <p> + “The seditious papers!” repeated Cornelius, quite dumfounded at the + imputation. + </p> + <p> + “Now don’t look astonished, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + “I vow to you, Master van Spennen,” Cornelius replied, “that I am + completely at a loss to understand what you want.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I shall put you in the way, Doctor,” said the judge; “give up to us + the papers which the traitor Cornelius de Witt deposited with you in the + month of January last.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden light came into the mind of Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” said Van Spennen, “you begin now to remember, don’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I do, but you spoke of seditious papers, and I have none of that + sort.” + </p> + <p> + “You deny it then?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly I do.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate turned round and took a rapid survey of the whole cabinet. + </p> + <p> + “Where is the apartment you call your dry-room?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “The very same where you now are, Master van Spennen.” + </p> + <p> + The magistrate cast a glance at a small note at the top of his papers. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” he said, like a man who is sure of his ground. + </p> + <p> + Then, turning round towards Cornelius, he continued, “Will you give up + those papers to me?” + </p> + <p> + “But I cannot, Master van Spennen; those papers do not belong to me; they + have been deposited with me as a trust, and a trust is sacred.” + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Cornelius,” said the judge, “in the name of the States, I order you + to open this drawer, and to give up to me the papers which it contains.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, the judge pointed with his finger to the third drawer of the + press, near the fireplace. + </p> + <p> + In this very drawer, indeed the papers deposited by the Warden of the + Dikes with his godson were lying; a proof that the police had received + very exact information. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you will not,” said Van Spennen, when he saw Cornelius standing + immovable and bewildered, “then I shall open the drawer myself.” + </p> + <p> + And, pulling out the drawer to its full length, the magistrate at first + alighted on about twenty bulbs, carefully arranged and ticketed, and then + on the paper parcel, which had remained in exactly the same state as it + was when delivered by the unfortunate Cornelius de Witt to his godson. + </p> + <p> + The magistrate broke the seals, tore off the envelope, cast an eager + glance on the first leaves which met his eye and then exclaimed, in a + terrible voice,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, justice has been rightly informed after all!” + </p> + <p> + “How,” said Cornelius, “how is this?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t pretend to be ignorant, Mynheer van Baerle,” answered the + magistrate. “Follow me.” + </p> + <p> + “How’s that! follow you?” cried the Doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, for in the name of the States I arrest you.” + </p> + <p> + Arrests were not as yet made in the name of William of Orange; he had not + been Stadtholder long enough for that. + </p> + <p> + “Arrest me!” cried Cornelius; “but what have I done?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s no affair of mine, Doctor; you will explain all that before your + judges.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “At the Hague.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, in mute stupefaction, embraced his old nurse, who was in a + swoon; shook hands with his servants, who were bathed in tears, and + followed the magistrate, who put him in a coach as a prisoner of state and + had him driven at full gallop to the Hague. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 8. An Invasion + </h2> + <p> + The incident just related was, as the reader has guessed before this, the + diabolical work of Mynheer Isaac Boxtel. + </p> + <p> + It will be remembered that, with the help of his telescope, not even the + least detail of the private meeting between Cornelius de Witt and Van + Baerle had escaped him. He had, indeed, heard nothing, but he had seen + everything, and had rightly concluded that the papers intrusted by the + Warden to the Doctor must have been of great importance, as he saw Van + Baerle so carefully secreting the parcel in the drawer where he used to + keep his most precious bulbs. + </p> + <p> + The upshot of all this was that when Boxtel, who watched the course of + political events much more attentively than his neighbour Cornelius was + used to do, heard the news of the brothers De Witt being arrested on a + charge of high treason against the States, he thought within his heart + that very likely he needed only to say one word, and the godson would be + arrested as well as the godfather. + </p> + <p> + Yet, full of happiness as was Boxtel’s heart at the chance, he at first + shrank with horror from the idea of informing against a man whom this + information might lead to the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + But there is this terrible thing in evil thoughts, that evil minds soon + grow familiar with them. + </p> + <p> + Besides this, Mynheer Isaac Boxtel encouraged himself with the following + sophism:— + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius de Witt is a bad citizen, as he is charged with high treason, + and arrested. + </p> + <p> + “I, on the contrary, am a good citizen, as I am not charged with anything + in the world, as I am as free as the air of heaven. + </p> + <p> + “If, therefore, Cornelius de Witt is a bad citizen,—of which there + can be no doubt, as he is charged with high treason, and arrested,—his + accomplice, Cornelius van Baerle, is no less a bad citizen than himself. + </p> + <p> + “And, as I am a good citizen, and as it is the duty of every good citizen + to inform against the bad ones, it is my duty to inform against Cornelius + van Baerle.” + </p> + <p> + Specious as this mode of reasoning might sound, it would not perhaps have + taken so complete a hold of Boxtel, nor would he perhaps have yielded to + the mere desire of vengeance which was gnawing at his heart, had not the + demon of envy been joined with that of cupidity. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel was quite aware of the progress which Van Baerle had made towards + producing the grand black tulip. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Cornelius, notwithstanding all his modesty, had not been able to hide + from his most intimate friends that he was all but certain to win, in the + year of grace 1673, the prize of a hundred thousand guilders offered by + the Horticultural Society of Haarlem. + </p> + <p> + It was just this certainty of Cornelius van Baerle that caused the fever + which raged in the heart of Isaac Boxtel. + </p> + <p> + If Cornelius should be arrested there would necessarily be a great upset + in his house, and during the night after his arrest no one would think of + keeping watch over the tulips in his garden. + </p> + <p> + Now in that night Boxtel would climb over the wall and, as he knew the + position of the bulb which was to produce the grand black tulip, he would + filch it; and instead of flowering for Cornelius, it would flower for him, + Isaac; he also, instead of Van Baerle, would have the prize of a hundred + thousand guilders, not to speak of the sublime honour of calling the new + flower Tulipa nigra Boxtellensis,—a result which would satisfy not + only his vengeance, but also his cupidity and his ambition. + </p> + <p> + Awake, he thought of nothing but the grand black tulip; asleep, he dreamed + of it. + </p> + <p> + At last, on the 19th of August, about two o’clock in the afternoon, the + temptation grew so strong, that Mynheer Isaac was no longer able to resist + it. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, he wrote an anonymous information, the minute exactness of + which made up for its want of authenticity, and posted his letter. + </p> + <p> + Never did a venomous paper, slipped into the jaws of the bronze lions at + Venice, produce a more prompt and terrible effect. + </p> + <p> + On the same evening the letter reached the principal magistrate, who + without a moment’s delay convoked his colleagues early for the next + morning. On the following morning, therefore, they assembled, and decided + on Van Baerle’s arrest, placing the order for its execution in the hands + of Master van Spennen, who, as we have seen, performed his duty like a + true Hollander, and who arrested the Doctor at the very hour when the + Orange party at the Hague were roasting the bleeding shreds of flesh torn + from the corpses of Cornelius and John de Witt. + </p> + <p> + But, whether from a feeling of shame or from craven weakness, Isaac Boxtel + did not venture that day to point his telescope either at the garden, or + at the laboratory, or at the dry-room. + </p> + <p> + He knew too well what was about to happen in the house of the poor doctor + to feel any desire to look into it. He did not even get up when his only + servant—who envied the lot of the servants of Cornelius just as + bitterly as Boxtel did that of their master—entered his bedroom. He + said to the man,— + </p> + <p> + “I shall not get up to-day, I am ill.” + </p> + <p> + About nine o’clock he heard a great noise in the street which made him + tremble, at this moment he was paler than a real invalid, and shook more + violently than a man in the height of fever. + </p> + <p> + His servant entered the room; Boxtel hid himself under the counterpane. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir!” cried the servant, not without some inkling that, whilst + deploring the mishap which had befallen Van Baerle, he was announcing + agreeable news to his master,—“oh, sir! you do not know, then, what + is happening at this moment?” + </p> + <p> + “How can I know it?” answered Boxtel, with an almost unintelligible voice. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mynheer Boxtel, at this moment your neighbour Cornelius van Baerle + is arrested for high treason.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” Boxtel muttered, with a faltering voice; “the thing is + impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Faith, sir, at any rate that’s what people say; and, besides, I have seen + Judge van Spennen with the archers entering the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, if you have seen it with your own eyes, that’s a different case + altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “At all events,” said the servant, “I shall go and inquire once more. Be + you quiet, sir, I shall let you know all about it.” + </p> + <p> + Boxtel contented himself with signifying his approval of the zeal of his + servant by dumb show. + </p> + <p> + The man went out, and returned in half an hour. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, all that I told you is indeed quite true.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Mynheer van Baerle is arrested, and has been put into a carriage, and + they are driving him to the Hague.” + </p> + <p> + “To the Hague!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to the Hague, and if what people say is true, it won’t do him much + good.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do they say?” Boxtel asked. + </p> + <p> + “Faith, sir, they say—but it is not quite sure—that by this + hour the burghers must be murdering Mynheer Cornelius and Mynheer John de + Witt.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” muttered, or rather growled Boxtel, closing his eyes from the + dreadful picture which presented itself to his imagination. + </p> + <p> + “Why, to be sure,” said the servant to himself, whilst leaving the room, + “Mynheer Isaac Boxtel must be very sick not to have jumped from his bed on + hearing such good news.” + </p> + <p> + And, in reality, Isaac Boxtel was very sick, like a man who has murdered + another. + </p> + <p> + But he had murdered his man with a double object; the first was attained, + the second was still to be attained. + </p> + <p> + Night closed in. It was the night which Boxtel had looked forward to. + </p> + <p> + As soon as it was dark he got up. + </p> + <p> + He then climbed into his sycamore. + </p> + <p> + He had calculated correctly; no one thought of keeping watch over the + garden; the house and the servants were all in the utmost confusion. + </p> + <p> + He heard the clock strike—ten, eleven, twelve. + </p> + <p> + At midnight, with a beating heart, trembling hands, and a livid + countenance, he descended from the tree, took a ladder, leaned it against + the wall, mounted it to the last step but one, and listened. + </p> + <p> + All was perfectly quiet, not a sound broke the silence of the night; one + solitary light, that of the housekeeper, was burning in the house. + </p> + <p> + This silence and this darkness emboldened Boxtel; he got astride the wall, + stopped for an instant, and, after having ascertained that there was + nothing to fear, he put his ladder from his own garden into that of + Cornelius, and descended. + </p> + <p> + Then, knowing to an inch where the bulbs which were to produce the black + tulip were planted, he ran towards the spot, following, however, the + gravelled walks in order not to be betrayed by his footprints, and, on + arriving at the precise spot, he proceeded, with the eagerness of a tiger, + to plunge his hand into the soft ground. + </p> + <p> + He found nothing, and thought he was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, the cold sweat stood on his brow. + </p> + <p> + He felt about close by it,—nothing. + </p> + <p> + He felt about on the right, and on the left,—nothing. + </p> + <p> + He felt about in front and at the back,—nothing. + </p> + <p> + He was nearly mad, when at last he satisfied himself that on that very + morning the earth had been disturbed. + </p> + <p> + In fact, whilst Boxtel was lying in bed, Cornelius had gone down to his + garden, had taken up the mother bulb, and, as we have seen, divided it + into three. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel could not bring himself to leave the place. He dug up with his + hands more than ten square feet of ground. + </p> + <p> + At last no doubt remained of his misfortune. Mad with rage, he returned to + his ladder, mounted the wall, drew up the ladder, flung it into his own + garden, and jumped after it. + </p> + <p> + All at once, a last ray of hope presented itself to his mind: the seedling + bulbs might be in the dry-room; it was therefore only requisite to make + his entry there as he had done into the garden. + </p> + <p> + There he would find them, and, moreover, it was not at all difficult, as + the sashes of the dry-room might be raised like those of a greenhouse. + Cornelius had opened them on that morning, and no one had thought of + closing them again. + </p> + <p> + Everything, therefore, depended upon whether he could procure a ladder of + sufficient length,—one of twenty-five feet instead of ten. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel had noticed in the street where he lived a house which was being + repaired, and against which a very tall ladder was placed. + </p> + <p> + This ladder would do admirably, unless the workmen had taken it away. + </p> + <p> + He ran to the house: the ladder was there. Boxtel took it, carried it with + great exertion to his garden, and with even greater difficulty raised it + against the wall of Van Baerle’s house, where it just reached to the + window. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel put a lighted dark lantern into his pocket, mounted the ladder, and + slipped into the dry-room. + </p> + <p> + On reaching this sanctuary of the florist he stopped, supporting himself + against the table; his legs failed him, his heart beat as if it would + choke him. Here it was even worse than in the garden; there Boxtel was + only a trespasser, here he was a thief. + </p> + <p> + However, he took courage again: he had not gone so far to turn back with + empty hands. + </p> + <p> + But in vain did he search the whole room, open and shut all the drawers, + even that privileged one where the parcel which had been so fatal to + Cornelius had been deposited; he found ticketed, as in a botanical garden, + the “Jane,” the “John de Witt,” the hazel-nut, and the roasted-coffee + coloured tulip; but of the black tulip, or rather the seedling bulbs + within which it was still sleeping, not a trace was found. + </p> + <p> + And yet, on looking over the register of seeds and bulbs, which Van Baerle + kept in duplicate, if possible even with greater exactitude and care than + the first commercial houses of Amsterdam their ledgers, Boxtel read these + lines:— + </p> + <p> + “To-day, 20th of August, 1672, I have taken up the mother bulb of the + grand black tulip, which I have divided into three perfect suckers.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh these bulbs, these bulbs!” howled Boxtel, turning over everything in + the dry-room, “where could he have concealed them?” + </p> + <p> + Then, suddenly striking his forehead in his frenzy, he called out, “Oh + wretch that I am! Oh thrice fool Boxtel! Would any one be separated from + his bulbs? Would any one leave them at Dort, when one goes to the Hague? + Could one live far from one’s bulbs, when they enclose the grand black + tulip? He had time to get hold of them, the scoundrel, he has them about + him, he has taken them to the Hague!” + </p> + <p> + It was like a flash of lightning which showed to Boxtel the abyss of a + uselessly committed crime. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel sank quite paralyzed on that very table, and on that very spot + where, some hours before, the unfortunate Van Baerle had so leisurely, and + with such intense delight, contemplated his darling bulbs. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, after all,” said the envious Boxtel,—raising his livid + face from his hands in which it had been buried—“if he has them, he + can keep them only as long as he lives, and——” + </p> + <p> + The rest of this detestable thought was expressed by a hideous smile. + </p> + <p> + “The bulbs are at the Hague,” he said, “therefore, I can no longer live at + Dort: away, then, for them, to the Hague! to the Hague!” + </p> + <p> + And Boxtel, without taking any notice of the treasures about him, so + entirely were his thoughts absorbed by another inestimable treasure, let + himself out by the window, glided down the ladder, carried it back to the + place whence he had taken it, and, like a beast of prey, returned growling + to his house. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 9. The Family Cell + </h2> + <p> + It was about midnight when poor Van Baerle was locked up in the prison of + the Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + What Rosa foresaw had come to pass. On finding the cell of Cornelius de + Witt empty, the wrath of the people ran very high, and had Gryphus fallen + into the hands of those madmen he would certainly have had to pay with his + life for the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + But this fury had vented itself most fully on the two brothers when they + were overtaken by the murderers, thanks to the precaution which William—the + man of precautions—had taken in having the gates of the city closed. + </p> + <p> + A momentary lull had therefore set in whilst the prison was empty, and + Rosa availed herself of this favourable moment to come forth from her + hiding place, which she also induced her father to leave. + </p> + <p> + The prison was therefore completely deserted. Why should people remain in + the jail whilst murder was going on at the Tol-Hek? + </p> + <p> + Gryphus came forth trembling behind the courageous Rosa. They went to + close the great gate, at least as well as it would close, considering that + it was half demolished. It was easy to see that a hurricane of mighty fury + had vented itself upon it. + </p> + <p> + About four o’clock a return of the noise was heard, but of no threatening + character to Gryphus and his daughter. The people were only dragging in + the two corpses, which they came back to gibbet at the usual place of + execution. + </p> + <p> + Rosa hid herself this time also, but only that she might not see the + ghastly spectacle. + </p> + <p> + At midnight, people again knocked at the gate of the jail, or rather at + the barricade which served in its stead: it was Cornelius van Baerle whom + they were bringing. + </p> + <p> + When the jailer received this new inmate, and saw from the warrant the + name and station of his prisoner, he muttered with his turnkey smile,— + </p> + <p> + “Godson of Cornelius de Witt! Well, young man, we have the family cell + here, and we will give it to you.” + </p> + <p> + And quite enchanted with his joke, the ferocious Orangeman took his + cresset and his keys to conduct Cornelius to the cell, which on that very + morning Cornelius de Witt had left to go into exile, or what in + revolutionary times is meant instead by those sublime philosophers who lay + it down as an axiom of high policy, “It is the dead only who do not + return.” + </p> + <p> + On the way which the despairing florist had to traverse to reach that cell + he heard nothing but the barking of a dog, and saw nothing but the face of + a young girl. + </p> + <p> + The dog rushed forth from a niche in the wall, shaking his heavy chain, + and sniffing all round Cornelius in order so much the better to recognise + him in case he should be ordered to pounce upon him. + </p> + <p> + The young girl, whilst the prisoner was mounting the staircase, appeared + at the narrow door of her chamber, which opened on that very flight of + steps; and, holding the lamp in her right hand, she at the same time lit + up her pretty blooming face, surrounded by a profusion of rich wavy golden + locks, whilst with her left she held her white night-dress closely over + her breast, having been roused from her first slumber by the unexpected + arrival of Van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + It would have made a fine picture, worthy of Rembrandt, the gloomy winding + stairs illuminated by the reddish glare of the cresset of Gryphus, with + his scowling jailer’s countenance at the top, the melancholy figure of + Cornelius bending over the banister to look down upon the sweet face of + Rosa, standing, as it were, in the bright frame of the door of her + chamber, with embarrassed mien at being thus seen by a stranger. + </p> + <p> + And at the bottom, quite in the shade, where the details are absorbed in + the obscurity, the mastiff, with his eyes glistening like carbuncles, and + shaking his chain, on which the double light from the lamp of Rosa and the + lantern of Gryphus threw a brilliant glitter. + </p> + <p> + The sublime master would, however, have been altogether unable to render + the sorrow expressed in the face of Rosa, when she saw this pale, handsome + young man slowly climbing the stairs, and thought of the full import of + the words, which her father had just spoken, “You will have the family + cell.” + </p> + <p> + This vision lasted but a moment,—much less time than we have taken + to describe it. Gryphus then proceeded on his way, Cornelius was forced to + follow him, and five minutes afterwards he entered his prison, of which it + is unnecessary to say more, as the reader is already acquainted with it. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus pointed with his finger to the bed on which the martyr had + suffered so much, who on that day had rendered his soul to God. Then, + taking up his cresset, he quitted the cell. + </p> + <p> + Thus left alone, Cornelius threw himself on his bed, but he slept not, he + kept his eye fixed on the narrow window, barred with iron, which looked on + the Buytenhof; and in this way saw from behind the trees that first pale + beam of light which morning sheds on the earth as a white mantle. + </p> + <p> + Now and then during the night horses had galloped at a smart pace over the + Buytenhof, the heavy tramp of the patrols had resounded from the pavement, + and the slow matches of the arquebuses, flaring in the east wind, had + thrown up at intervals a sudden glare as far as to the panes of his + window. + </p> + <p> + But when the rising sun began to gild the coping stones at the gable ends + of the houses, Cornelius, eager to know whether there was any living + creature about him, approached the window, and cast a sad look round the + circular yard before him. + </p> + <p> + At the end of the yard a dark mass, tinted with a dingy blue by the + morning dawn, rose before him, its dark outlines standing out in contrast + to the houses already illuminated by the pale light of early morning. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius recognised the gibbet. + </p> + <p> + On it were suspended two shapeless trunks, which indeed were no more than + bleeding skeletons. + </p> + <p> + The good people of the Hague had chopped off the flesh of its victims, but + faithfully carried the remainder to the gibbet, to have a pretext for a + double inscription written on a huge placard, on which Cornelius; with the + keen sight of a young man of twenty-eight, was able to read the following + lines, daubed by the coarse brush of a sign-painter:— + </p> + <p> + “Here are hanging the great rogue of the name of John de Witt, and the + little rogue Cornelius de Witt, his brother, two enemies of the people, + but great friends of the king of France.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius uttered a cry of horror, and in the agony of his frantic terror + knocked with his hands and feet at the door so violently and continuously, + that Gryphus, with his huge bunch of keys in his hand, ran furiously up. + </p> + <p> + The jailer opened the door, with terrible imprecations against the + prisoner who disturbed him at an hour which Master Gryphus was not + accustomed to be aroused. + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, by my soul, he is mad, this new De Witt,” he cried, “but all + those De Witts have the devil in them.” + </p> + <p> + “Master, master,” cried Cornelius, seizing the jailer by the arm and + dragging him towards the window,—“master, what have I read down + there?” + </p> + <p> + “Where down there?” + </p> + <p> + “On that placard.” + </p> + <p> + And, trembling, pale, and gasping for breath, he pointed to the gibbet at + the other side of the yard, with the cynical inscription surmounting it. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus broke out into a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Eh! eh!” he answered, “so, you have read it. Well, my good sir, that’s + what people will get for corresponding with the enemies of his Highness + the Prince of Orange.” + </p> + <p> + “The brothers De Witt are murdered!” Cornelius muttered, with the cold + sweat on his brow, and sank on his bed, his arms hanging by his side, and + his eyes closed. + </p> + <p> + “The brothers De Witt have been judged by the people,” said Gryphus; “you + call that murdered, do you? well, I call it executed.” + </p> + <p> + And seeing that the prisoner was not only quiet, but entirely prostrate + and senseless, he rushed from the cell, violently slamming the door, and + noisily drawing the bolts. + </p> + <p> + Recovering his consciousness, Cornelius found himself alone, and + recognised the room where he was,—“the family cell,” as Gryphus had + called it,—as the fatal passage leading to ignominious death. + </p> + <p> + And as he was a philosopher, and, more than that, as he was a Christian, + he began to pray for the soul of his godfather, then for that of the Grand + Pensionary, and at last submitted with resignation to all the sufferings + which God might ordain for him. + </p> + <p> + Then turning again to the concerns of earth, and having satisfied himself + that he was alone in his dungeon, he drew from his breast the three bulbs + of the black tulip, and concealed them behind a block of stone, on which + the traditional water-jug of the prison was standing, in the darkest + corner of his cell. + </p> + <p> + Useless labour of so many years! such sweet hopes crushed! His discovery + was, after all, to lead to naught, just as his own career was to be cut + short. Here, in his prison, there was not a trace of vegetation, not an + atom of soil, not a ray of sunshine. + </p> + <p> + At this thought Cornelius fell into a gloomy despair, from which he was + only aroused by an extraordinary circumstance. + </p> + <p> + What was this circumstance? + </p> + <p> + We shall inform the reader in our next chapter. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10. The Jailer’s Daughter + </h2> + <p> + On the same evening Gryphus, as he brought the prisoner his mess, slipped + on the damp flags whilst opening the door of the cell, and fell, in the + attempt to steady himself, on his hand; but as it was turned the wrong + way, he broke his arm just above the wrist. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius rushed forward towards the jailer, but Gryphus, who was not yet + aware of the serious nature of his injury, called out to him,— + </p> + <p> + “It is nothing: don’t you stir.” + </p> + <p> + He then tried to support himself on his arm, but the bone gave way; then + only he felt the pain, and uttered a cry. + </p> + <p> + When he became aware that his arm was broken, this man, so harsh to + others, fell swooning on the threshold, where he remained motionless and + cold, as if dead. + </p> + <p> + During all this time the door of the cell stood open and Cornelius found + himself almost free. But the thought never entered his mind of profiting + by this accident; he had seen from the manner in which the arm was bent, + and from the noise it made in bending, that the bone was fractured, and + that the patient must be in great pain; and now he thought of nothing else + but of administering relief to the sufferer, however little benevolent the + man had shown himself during their short interview. + </p> + <p> + At the noise of Gryphus’s fall, and at the cry which escaped him, a hasty + step was heard on the staircase, and immediately after a lovely apparition + presented itself to the eyes of Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + It was the beautiful young Frisian, who, seeing her father stretched on + the ground, and the prisoner bending over him, uttered a faint cry, as in + the first fright she thought Gryphus, whose brutality she well knew, had + fallen in consequence of a struggle between him and the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius understood what was passing in the mind of the girl, at the very + moment when the suspicion arose in her heart. + </p> + <p> + But one moment told her the true state of the case and, ashamed of her + first thoughts, she cast her beautiful eyes, wet with tears, on the young + man, and said to him,— + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, and thank you, sir; the first for what I have thought, + and the second for what you are doing.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius blushed, and said, “I am but doing my duty as a Christian in + helping my neighbour.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and affording him your help this evening, you have forgotten the + abuse which he heaped on you this morning. Oh, sir! this is more than + humanity,—this is indeed Christian charity.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius cast his eyes on the beautiful girl, quite astonished to hear + from the mouth of one so humble such a noble and feeling speech. + </p> + <p> + But he had no time to express his surprise. Gryphus recovered from his + swoon, opened his eyes, and as his brutality was returning with his + senses, he growled “That’s it, a fellow is in a hurry to bring to a + prisoner his supper, and falls and breaks his arm, and is left lying on + the ground.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, my father,” said Rosa, “you are unjust to this gentleman, whom I + found endeavouring to give you his aid.” + </p> + <p> + “His aid?” Gryphus replied, with a doubtful air. + </p> + <p> + “It is quite true, master! I am quite ready to help you still more.” + </p> + <p> + “You!” said Gryphus, “are you a medical man?” + </p> + <p> + “It was formerly my profession.” + </p> + <p> + “And so you would be able to set my arm?” + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly.” + </p> + <p> + “And what would you need to do it? let us hear.” + </p> + <p> + “Two splinters of wood, and some linen for a bandage.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear, Rosa?” said Gryphus, “the prisoner is going to set my arm, + that’s a saving; come, assist me to get up, I feel as heavy as lead.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa lent the sufferer her shoulder; he put his unhurt arm around her + neck, and making an effort, got on his legs, whilst Cornelius, to save him + a walk, pushed a chair towards him. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus sat down; then, turning towards his daughter, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, didn’t you hear? go and fetch what is wanted.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa went down, and immediately after returned with two staves of a small + barrel and a large roll of linen bandage. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius had made use of the intervening moments to take off the man’s + coat, and to tuck up his shirt sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “Is this what you require, sir?” asked Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, mademoiselle,” answered Cornelius, looking at the things she had + brought,—“yes, that’s right. Now push this table, whilst I support + the arm of your father.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa pushed the table, Cornelius placed the broken arm on it so as to make + it flat, and with perfect skill set the bone, adjusted the splinters, and + fastened the bandages. + </p> + <p> + At the last touch, the jailer fainted a second time. + </p> + <p> + “Go and fetch vinegar, mademoiselle,” said Cornelius; “we will bathe his + temples, and he will recover.” + </p> + <p> + But, instead of acting up to the doctor’s prescription, Rosa, after having + satisfied herself that her father was still unconscious, approached + Cornelius and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Service for service, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean, my pretty child?” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “I mean to say, sir, that the judge who is to examine you to-morrow has + inquired to-day for the room in which you are confined, and, on being told + that you are occupying the cell of Mynheer Cornelius de Witt, laughed in a + very strange and very disagreeable manner, which makes me fear that no + good awaits you.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” asked Cornelius, “what harm can they do to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Look at that gibbet.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am not guilty,” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Were they guilty whom you see down there gibbeted, mangled, and torn to + pieces?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s true,” said Cornelius, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “And besides,” continued Rosa, “the people want to find you guilty. But + whether innocent or guilty, your trial begins to-morrow, and the day after + you will be condemned. Matters are settled very quickly in these times.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and what do you conclude from all this?” + </p> + <p> + “I conclude that I am alone, that I am weak, that my father is lying in a + swoon, that the dog is muzzled, and that consequently there is nothing to + prevent your making your escape. Fly, then; that’s what I mean.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I say that I was not able to save Mynheer Cornelius or Mynheer John de + Witt, and that I should like to save you. Only be quick; there, my father + is regaining his breath, one minute more, and he will open his eyes, and + it will be too late. Do you hesitate?” + </p> + <p> + In fact, Cornelius stood immovable, looking at Rosa, yet looking at her as + if he did not hear her. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you understand me?” said the young girl, with some impatience. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do,” said Cornelius, “but——” + </p> + <p> + “But?” + </p> + <p> + “I will not, they would accuse you.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said Rosa, blushing, “never mind that.” + </p> + <p> + “You are very good, my dear child,” replied Cornelius, “but I stay.” + </p> + <p> + “You stay, oh, sir! oh, sir! don’t you understand that you will be + condemned to death, executed on the scaffold, perhaps assassinated and + torn to pieces, just like Mynheer John and Mynheer Cornelius. For heaven’s + sake, don’t think of me, but fly from this place. Take care, it bears ill + luck to the De Witts!” + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” cried the jailer, recovering his senses, “who is talking of + those rogues, those wretches, those villains, the De Witts?” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be angry, my good man,” said Cornelius, with his good-tempered + smile, “the worst thing for a fracture is excitement, by which the blood + is heated.” + </p> + <p> + Thereupon, he said in an undertone to Rosa— + </p> + <p> + “My child, I am innocent, and I shall await my trial with tranquillity and + an easy mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Why hush?” + </p> + <p> + “My father must not suppose that we have been talking to each other.” + </p> + <p> + “What harm would that do?” + </p> + <p> + “What harm? He would never allow me to come here any more,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius received this innocent confidence with a smile; he felt as if a + ray of good fortune were shining on his path. + </p> + <p> + “Now, then, what are you chattering there together about?” said Gryphus, + rising and supporting his right arm with his left. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing,” said Rosa; “the doctor is explaining to me what diet you are to + keep.” + </p> + <p> + “Diet, diet for me? Well, my fine girl, I shall put you on diet too.” + </p> + <p> + “On what diet, my father?” + </p> + <p> + “Never to go to the cells of the prisoners, and, if ever you should happen + to go, to leave them as soon as possible. Come, off with me, lead the way, + and be quick.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa and Cornelius exchanged glances. + </p> + <p> + That of Rosa tried to express,— + </p> + <p> + “There, you see?” + </p> + <p> + That of Cornelius said,— + </p> + <p> + “Let it be as the Lord wills.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 11. Cornelius van Baerle’s Will + </h2> + <p> + Rosa had not been mistaken; the judges came on the following day to the + Buytenhof, and proceeded with the trial of Cornelius van Baerle. The + examination, however, did not last long, it having appeared on evidence + that Cornelius had kept at his house that fatal correspondence of the + brothers De Witt with France. + </p> + <p> + He did not deny it. + </p> + <p> + The only point about which there seemed any difficulty was whether this + correspondence had been intrusted to him by his godfather, Cornelius de + Witt. + </p> + <p> + But as, since the death of those two martyrs, Van Baerle had no longer any + reason for withholding the truth, he not only did not deny that the parcel + had been delivered to him by Cornelius de Witt himself, but he also stated + all the circumstances under which it was done. + </p> + <p> + This confession involved the godson in the crime of the godfather; + manifest complicity being considered to exist between Cornelius de Witt + and Cornelius van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + The honest doctor did not confine himself to this avowal, but told the + whole truth with regard to his own tastes, habits, and daily life. He + described his indifference to politics, his love of study, of the fine + arts, of science, and of flowers. He explained that, since the day when + Cornelius de Witt handed to him the parcel at Dort, he himself had never + touched, nor even noticed it. + </p> + <p> + To this it was objected, that in this respect he could not possibly be + speaking the truth, since the papers had been deposited in a press in + which both his hands and his eyes must have been engaged every day. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius answered that it was indeed so; that, however, he never put his + hand into the press but to ascertain whether his bulbs were dry, and that + he never looked into it but to see if they were beginning to sprout. + </p> + <p> + To this again it was objected, that his pretended indifference respecting + this deposit was not to be reasonably entertained, as he could not have + received such papers from the hand of his godfather without being made + acquainted with their important character. + </p> + <p> + He replied that his godfather Cornelius loved him too well, and, above + all, that he was too considerate a man to have communicated to him + anything of the contents of the parcel, well knowing that such a + confidence would only have caused anxiety to him who received it. + </p> + <p> + To this it was objected that, if De Witt had wished to act in such a way, + he would have added to the parcel, in case of accidents, a certificate + setting forth that his godson was an entire stranger to the nature of this + correspondence, or at least he would during his trial have written a + letter to him, which might be produced as his justification. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius replied that undoubtedly his godfather could not have thought + that there was any risk for the safety of his deposit, hidden as it was in + a press which was looked upon as sacred as the tabernacle by the whole + household of Van Baerle; and that consequently he had considered the + certificate as useless. As to a letter, he certainly had some remembrance + that some moments previous to his arrest, whilst he was absorbed in the + contemplation of one of the rarest of his bulbs, John de Witt’s servant + entered his dry-room, and handed to him a paper, but the whole was to him + only like a vague dream; the servant had disappeared, and as to the paper, + perhaps it might be found if a proper search were made. + </p> + <p> + As far as Craeke was concerned, it was impossible to find him, as he had + left Holland. + </p> + <p> + The paper also was not very likely to be found, and no one gave himself + the trouble to look for it. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius himself did not much press this point, since, even supposing + that the paper should turn up, it could not have any direct connection + with the correspondence which constituted the crime. + </p> + <p> + The judges wished to make it appear as though they wanted to urge + Cornelius to make a better defence; they displayed that benevolent + patience which is generally a sign of the magistrate’s being interested + for the prisoner, or of a man’s having so completely got the better of his + adversary that he needs no longer any oppressive means to ruin him. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius did not accept of this hypocritical protection, and in a last + answer, which he set forth with the noble bearing of a martyr and the calm + serenity of a righteous man, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “You ask me things, gentlemen, to which I can answer only the exact truth. + Hear it. The parcel was put into my hands in the way I have described; I + vow before God that I was, and am still, ignorant of its contents, and + that it was not until my arrest that I learned that this deposit was the + correspondence of the Grand Pensionary with the Marquis de Louvois. And + lastly, I vow and protest that I do not understand how any one should have + known that this parcel was in my house; and, above all, how I can be + deemed criminal for having received what my illustrious and unfortunate + godfather brought to my house.” + </p> + <p> + This was Van Baerle’s whole defence; after which the judges began to + deliberate on the verdict. + </p> + <p> + They considered that every offshoot of civil discord is mischievous, + because it revives the contest which it is the interest of all to put + down. + </p> + <p> + One of them, who bore the character of a profound observer, laid down as + his opinion that this young man, so phlegmatic in appearance, must in + reality be very dangerous, as under this icy exterior he was sure to + conceal an ardent desire to avenge his friends, the De Witts. + </p> + <p> + Another observed that the love of tulips agreed perfectly well with that + of politics, and that it was proved in history that many very dangerous + men were engaged in gardening, just as if it had been their profession, + whilst really they occupied themselves with perfectly different concerns; + witness Tarquin the Elder, who grew poppies at Gabii, and the Great Condé, + who watered his carnations at the dungeon of Vincennes at the very moment + when the former meditated his return to Rome, and the latter his escape + from prison. + </p> + <p> + The judge summed up with the following dilemma:— + </p> + <p> + “Either Cornelius van Baerle is a great lover of tulips, or a great lover + of politics; in either case, he has told us a falsehood; first, because + his having occupied himself with politics is proved by the letters which + were found at his house; and secondly, because his having occupied himself + with tulips is proved by the bulbs which leave no doubt of the fact. And + herein lies the enormity of the case. As Cornelius van Baerle was + concerned in the growing of tulips and in the pursuit of politics at one + and the same time, the prisoner is of hybrid character, of an amphibious + organisation, working with equal ardour at politics and at tulips, which + proves him to belong to the class of men most dangerous to public + tranquillity, and shows a certain, or rather a complete, analogy between + his character and that of those master minds of which Tarquin the Elder + and the Great Condé have been felicitously quoted as examples.” + </p> + <p> + The upshot of all these reasonings was, that his Highness the Prince + Stadtholder of Holland would feel infinitely obliged to the magistracy of + the Hague if they simplified for him the government of the Seven Provinces + by destroying even the least germ of conspiracy against his authority. + </p> + <p> + This argument capped all the others, and, in order so much the more + effectually to destroy the germ of conspiracy, sentence of death was + unanimously pronounced against Cornelius van Baerle, as being arraigned, + and convicted, for having, under the innocent appearance of a + tulip-fancier, participated in the detestable intrigues and abominable + plots of the brothers De Witt against Dutch nationality and in their + secret relations with their French enemy. + </p> + <p> + A supplementary clause was tacked to the sentence, to the effect that “the + aforesaid Cornelius van Baerle should be led from the prison of the + Buytenhof to the scaffold in the yard of the same name, where the public + executioner would cut off his head.” + </p> + <p> + As this deliberation was a most serious affair, it lasted a full + half-hour, during which the prisoner was remanded to his cell. + </p> + <p> + There the Recorder of the States came to read the sentence to him. + </p> + <p> + Master Gryphus was detained in bed by the fever caused by the fracture of + his arm. His keys passed into the hands of one of his assistants. Behind + this turnkey, who introduced the Recorder, Rosa, the fair Frisian maid, + had slipped into the recess of the door, with a handkerchief to her mouth + to stifle her sobs. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius listened to the sentence with an expression rather of surprise + than sadness. + </p> + <p> + After the sentence was read, the Recorder asked him whether he had + anything to answer. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I have not,” he replied. “Only I confess that, among all the + causes of death against which a cautious man may guard, I should never + have supposed this to be comprised.” + </p> + <p> + On this answer, the Recorder saluted Van Baerle with all that + consideration which such functionaries generally bestow upon great + criminals of every sort. + </p> + <p> + But whilst he was about to withdraw, Cornelius asked, “By the bye, Mr. + Recorder, what day is the thing—you know what I mean—to take + place?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, to-day,” answered the Recorder, a little surprised by the + self-possession of the condemned man. + </p> + <p> + A sob was heard behind the door, and Cornelius turned round to look from + whom it came; but Rosa, who had foreseen this movement, had fallen back. + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued Cornelius, “what hour is appointed?” + </p> + <p> + “Twelve o’clock, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said Cornelius, “I think I heard the clock strike ten about + twenty minutes ago; I have not much time to spare.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed you have not, if you wish to make your peace with God,” said the + Recorder, bowing to the ground. “You may ask for any clergyman you + please.” + </p> + <p> + Saying these words he went out backwards, and the assistant turnkey was + going to follow him, and to lock the door of Cornelius’s cell, when a + white and trembling arm interposed between him and the heavy door. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius saw nothing but the golden brocade cap, tipped with lace, such + as the Frisian girls wore; he heard nothing but some one whispering into + the ear of the turnkey. But the latter put his heavy keys into the white + hand which was stretched out to receive them, and, descending some steps, + sat down on the staircase which was thus guarded above by himself, and + below by the dog. The head-dress turned round, and Cornelius beheld the + face of Rosa, blanched with grief, and her beautiful eyes streaming with + tears. + </p> + <p> + She went up to Cornelius, crossing her arms on her heaving breast. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, sir!” she said, but sobs choked her utterance. + </p> + <p> + “My good girl,” Cornelius replied with emotion, “what do you wish? I may + tell you that my time on earth is short.” + </p> + <p> + “I come to ask a favour of you,” said Rosa, extending her arms partly + towards him and partly towards heaven. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t weep so, Rosa,” said the prisoner, “for your tears go much more to + my heart than my approaching fate, and you know, the less guilty a + prisoner is, the more it is his duty to die calmly, and even joyfully, as + he dies a martyr. Come, there’s a dear, don’t cry any more, and tell me + what you want, my pretty Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + She fell on her knees. “Forgive my father,” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Your father, your father!” said Cornelius, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he has been so harsh to you; but it is his nature, he is so to every + one, and you are not the only one whom he has bullied.” + </p> + <p> + “He is punished, my dear Rosa, more than punished, by the accident that + has befallen him, and I forgive him.” + </p> + <p> + “I thank you, sir,” said Rosa. “And now tell me—oh, tell me—can + I do anything for you?” + </p> + <p> + “You can dry your beautiful eyes, my dear child,” answered Cornelius, with + a good-tempered smile. + </p> + <p> + “But what can I do for you,—for you I mean?” + </p> + <p> + “A man who has only one hour longer to live must be a great Sybarite still + to want anything, my dear Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + “The clergyman whom they have proposed to you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have worshipped God all my life, I have worshipped Him in His works, + and praised Him in His decrees. I am at peace with Him and do not wish for + a clergyman. The last thought which occupies my mind, however has + reference to the glory of the Almighty, and, indeed, my dear, I should ask + you to help me in carrying out this last thought.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Mynheer Cornelius, speak, speak!” exclaimed Rosa, still bathed in + tears. + </p> + <p> + “Give me your hand, and promise me not to laugh, my dear child.” + </p> + <p> + “Laugh,” exclaimed Rosa, frantic with grief, “laugh at this moment! do you + not see my tears?” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, you are no stranger to me. I have not seen much of you, but that + little is enough to make me appreciate your character. I have never seen a + woman more fair or more pure than you are, and if from this moment I take + no more notice of you, forgive me; it is only because, on leaving this + world, I do not wish to have any further regret.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa felt a shudder creeping over her frame, for, whilst the prisoner + pronounced these words, the belfry clock of the Buytenhof struck eleven. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius understood her. “Yes, yes, let us make haste,” he said, “you are + right, Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + Then, taking the paper with the three suckers from his breast, where he + had again put it, since he had no longer any fear of being searched, he + said: “My dear girl, I have been very fond of flowers. That was at a time + when I did not know that there was anything else to be loved. Don’t blush, + Rosa, nor turn away; and even if I were making you a declaration of love, + alas! poor dear, it would be of no more consequence. Down there in the + yard, there is an instrument of steel, which in sixty minutes will put an + end to my boldness. Well, Rosa, I loved flowers dearly, and I have found, + or at least I believe so, the secret of the great black tulip, which it + has been considered impossible to grow, and for which, as you know, or may + not know, a prize of a hundred thousand guilders has been offered by the + Horticultural Society of Haarlem. These hundred thousand guilders—and + Heaven knows I do not regret them—these hundred thousand guilders I + have here in this paper, for they are won by the three bulbs wrapped up in + it, which you may take, Rosa, as I make you a present of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Mynheer Cornelius!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, Rosa, you may take them; you are not wronging any one, my + child. I am alone in this world; my parents are dead; I never had a sister + or a brother. I have never had a thought of loving any one with what is + called love, and if any one has loved me, I have not known it. However, + you see well, Rosa, that I am abandoned by everybody, as in this sad hour + you alone are with me in my prison, consoling and assisting me.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir, a hundred thousand guilders!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let us talk seriously, my dear child: those hundred thousand + guilders will be a nice marriage portion, with your pretty face; you shall + have them, Rosa, dear Rosa, and I ask nothing in return but your promise + that you will marry a fine young man, whom you love, and who will love + you, as dearly as I loved my flowers. Don’t interrupt me, Rosa dear, I + have only a few minutes more.” + </p> + <p> + The poor girl was nearly choking with her sobs. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius took her by the hand. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” he continued: “I’ll tell you how to manage it. Go to Dort + and ask Butruysheim, my gardener, for soil from my border number six, fill + a deep box with it, and plant in it these three bulbs. They will flower + next May, that is to say, in seven months; and, when you see the flower + forming on the stem, be careful at night to protect them from the wind, + and by day to screen them from the sun. They will flower black, I am quite + sure of it. You are then to apprise the President of the Haarlem Society. + He will cause the color of the flower to be proved before a committee and + these hundred thousand guilders will be paid to you.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa heaved a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” continued Cornelius,—wiping away a tear which was + glistening in his eye, and which was shed much more for that marvellous + black tulip which he was not to see than for the life which he was about + to lose,—“I have no wish left, except that the tulip should be + called Rosa Barlœnsis, that is to say, that its name should combine yours + and mine; and as, of course, you do not understand Latin, and might + therefore forget this name, try to get for me pencil and paper, that I may + write it down for you.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa sobbed afresh, and handed to him a book, bound in shagreen, which + bore the initials C. W. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” asked the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” replied Rosa, “it is the Bible of your poor godfather, Cornelius + de Witt. From it he derived strength to endure the torture, and to bear + his sentence without flinching. I found it in this cell, after the death + of the martyr, and have preserved it as a relic. To-day I brought it to + you, for it seemed to me that this book must possess in itself a divine + power. Write in it what you have to write, Mynheer Cornelius; and though, + unfortunately, I am not able to read, I will take care that what you write + shall be accomplished.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius took the Bible, and kissed it reverently. + </p> + <p> + “With what shall I write?” asked Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “There is a pencil in the Bible,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + This was the pencil which John de Witt had lent to his brother, and which + he had forgotten to take away with him. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius took it, and on the second fly leaf (for it will be remembered + that the first was torn out), drawing near his end like his godfather, he + wrote with a no less firm hand:— + </p> + <p> + “On this day, the 23d of August, 1672, being on the point of rendering, + although innocent, my soul to God on the scaffold, I bequeath to Rosa + Gryphus the only worldly goods which remain to me of all that I have + possessed in this world, the rest having been confiscated; I bequeath, I + say, to Rosa Gryphus three bulbs, which I am convinced must produce, in + the next May, the Grand Black Tulip for which a prize of a hundred + thousand guilders has been offered by the Haarlem Society, requesting that + she may be paid the same sum in my stead, as my sole heiress, under the + only condition of her marrying a respectable young man of about my age, + who loves her, and whom she loves, and of her giving the black tulip, + which will constitute a new species, the name of Rosa Barlœnsis, that is + to say, hers and mine combined. + </p> + <p> + “So may God grant me mercy, and to her health and long life! + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius van Baerle.” + </p> + <p> + The prisoner then, giving the Bible to Rosa, said,— + </p> + <p> + “Read.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” she answered, “I have already told you I cannot read.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius then read to Rosa the testament that he had just made. + </p> + <p> + The agony of the poor girl almost overpowered her. + </p> + <p> + “Do you accept my conditions?” asked the prisoner, with a melancholy + smile, kissing the trembling hands of the afflicted girl. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don’t know, sir,” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know, child, and why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because there is one condition which I am afraid I cannot keep.” + </p> + <p> + “Which? I should have thought that all was settled between us.” + </p> + <p> + “You give me the hundred thousand guilders as a marriage portion, don’t + you?” + </p> +<p> +“Yes.” +</p> + <p> + “And under the condition of my marrying a man whom I love?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, sir, this money cannot belong to me. I shall never love any + one; neither shall I marry.” + </p> + <p> + And, after having with difficulty uttered these words, Rosa almost swooned + away in the violence of her grief. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, frightened at seeing her so pale and sinking, was going to take + her in his arms, when a heavy step, followed by other dismal sounds, was + heard on the staircase, amidst the continued barking of the dog. + </p> + <p> + “They are coming to fetch you. Oh God! Oh God!” cried Rosa, wringing her + hands. “And have you nothing more to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + She fell on her knees with her face buried in her hands and became almost + senseless. + </p> + <p> + “I have only to say, that I wish you to preserve these bulbs as a most + precious treasure, and carefully to treat them according to the directions + I have given you. Do it for my sake, and now farewell, Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” she said, without raising her head, “I will do anything you + bid me, except marrying,” she added, in a low voice, “for that, oh! that + is impossible for me.” + </p> + <p> + She then put the cherished treasure next her beating heart. + </p> + <p> + The noise on the staircase which Cornelius and Rosa had heard was caused + by the Recorder, who was coming for the prisoner. He was followed by the + executioner, by the soldiers who were to form the guard round the + scaffold, and by some curious hangers-on of the prison. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, without showing any weakness, but likewise without any bravado, + received them rather as friends than as persecutors, and quietly submitted + to all those preparations which these men were obliged to make in + performance of their duty. + </p> + <p> + Then, casting a glance into the yard through the narrow iron-barred window + of his cell, he perceived the scaffold, and, at twenty paces distant from + it, the gibbet, from which, by order of the Stadtholder, the outraged + remains of the two brothers De Witt had been taken down. + </p> + <p> + When the moment came to descend in order to follow the guards, Cornelius + sought with his eyes the angelic look of Rosa, but he saw, behind the + swords and halberds, only a form lying outstretched near a wooden bench, + and a deathlike face half covered with long golden locks. + </p> + <p> + But Rosa, whilst falling down senseless, still obeying her friend, had + pressed her hand on her velvet bodice and, forgetting everything in the + world besides, instinctively grasped the precious deposit which Cornelius + had intrusted to her care. + </p> + <p> + Leaving the cell, the young man could still see in the convulsively + clinched fingers of Rosa the yellowish leaf from that Bible on which + Cornelius de Witt had with such difficulty and pain written these few + lines, which, if Van Baerle had read them, would undoubtedly have been the + saving of a man and a tulip. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 12. The Execution + </h2> + <p> + Cornelius had not three hundred paces to walk outside the prison to reach + the foot of the scaffold. At the bottom of the staircase, the dog quietly + looked at him whilst he was passing; Cornelius even fancied he saw in the + eyes of the monster a certain expression as it were of compassion. + </p> + <p> + The dog perhaps knew the condemned prisoners, and only bit those who left + as free men. + </p> + <p> + The shorter the way from the door of the prison to the foot of the + scaffold, the more fully, of course, it was crowded with curious people. + </p> + <p> + These were the same who, not satisfied with the blood which they had shed + three days before, were now craving for a new victim. + </p> + <p> + And scarcely had Cornelius made his appearance than a fierce groan ran + through the whole street, spreading all over the yard, and re-echoing from + the streets which led to the scaffold, and which were likewise crowded + with spectators. + </p> + <p> + The scaffold indeed looked like an islet at the confluence of several + rivers. + </p> + <p> + In the midst of these threats, groans, and yells, Cornelius, very likely + in order not to hear them, had buried himself in his own thoughts. + </p> + <p> + And what did he think of in his last melancholy journey? + </p> + <p> + Neither of his enemies, nor of his judges, nor of his executioners. + </p> + <p> + He thought of the beautiful tulips which he would see from heaven above, + at Ceylon, or Bengal, or elsewhere, when he would be able to look with + pity on this earth, where John and Cornelius de Witt had been murdered for + having thought too much of politics, and where Cornelius van Baerle was + about to be murdered for having thought too much of tulips. + </p> + <p> + “It is only one stroke of the axe,” said the philosopher to himself, “and + my beautiful dream will begin to be realised.” + </p> + <p> + Only there was still a chance, just as it had happened before to M. de + Chalais, to M. de Thou, and other slovenly executed people, that the + headsman might inflict more than one stroke, that is to say, more than one + martyrdom, on the poor tulip-fancier. + </p> + <p> + Yet, notwithstanding all this, Van Baerle mounted the scaffold not the + less resolutely, proud of having been the friend of that illustrious John, + and godson of that noble Cornelius de Witt, whom the ruffians, who were + now crowding to witness his own doom, had torn to pieces and burnt three + days before. + </p> + <p> + He knelt down, said his prayers, and observed, not without a feeling of + sincere joy, that, laying his head on the block, and keeping his eyes + open, he would be able to his last moment to see the grated window of the + Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + At length the fatal moment arrived, and Cornelius placed his chin on the + cold damp block. But at this moment his eyes closed involuntarily, to + receive more resolutely the terrible avalanche which was about to fall on + his head, and to engulf his life. + </p> + <p> + A gleam like that of lightning passed across the scaffold: it was the + executioner raising his sword. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle bade farewell to the great black tulip, certain of awaking in + another world full of light and glorious tints. + </p> + <p> + Three times he felt, with a shudder, the cold current of air from the + knife near his neck, but what a surprise! he felt neither pain nor shock. + </p> + <p> + He saw no change in the colour of the sky, or of the world around him. + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly Van Baerle felt gentle hands raising him, and soon stood on + his feet again, although trembling a little. + </p> + <p> + He looked around him. There was some one by his side, reading a large + parchment, sealed with a huge seal of red wax. + </p> + <p> + And the same sun, yellow and pale, as it behooves a Dutch sun to be, was + shining in the skies; and the same grated window looked down upon him from + the Buytenhof; and the same rabble, no longer yelling, but completely + thunderstruck, were staring at him from the streets below. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle began to be sensible to what was going on around him. + </p> + <p> + His Highness, William, Prince of Orange, very likely afraid that Van + Baerle’s blood would turn the scale of judgment against him, had + compassionately taken into consideration his good character, and the + apparent proofs of his innocence. + </p> + <p> + His Highness, accordingly, had granted him his life. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius at first hoped that the pardon would be complete, and that he + would be restored to his full liberty and to his flower borders at Dort. + </p> + <p> + But Cornelius was mistaken. To use an expression of Madame de Sévigné, who + wrote about the same time, “there was a postscript to the letter;” and the + most important part of the letter was contained in the postscript. + </p> + <p> + In this postscript, William of Orange, Stadtholder of Holland, condemned + Cornelius van Baerle to imprisonment for life. He was not sufficiently + guilty to suffer death, but he was too much so to be set at liberty. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius heard this clause, but, the first feeling of vexation and + disappointment over, he said to himself,— + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, all this is not lost yet; there is some good in this + perpetual imprisonment; Rosa will be there, and also my three bulbs of the + black tulip are there.” + </p> + <p> + But Cornelius forgot that the Seven Provinces had seven prisons, one for + each, and that the board of the prisoner is anywhere else less expensive + than at the Hague, which is a capital. + </p> + <p> + His Highness, who, as it seems, did not possess the means to feed Van + Baerle at the Hague, sent him to undergo his perpetual imprisonment at the + fortress of Loewestein, very near Dort, but, alas! also very far from it; + for Loewestein, as the geographers tell us, is situated at the point of + the islet which is formed by the confluence of the Waal and the Meuse, + opposite Gorcum. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle was sufficiently versed in the history of his country to know + that the celebrated Grotius was confined in that castle after the death of + Barneveldt; and that the States, in their generosity to the illustrious + publicist, jurist, historian, poet, and divine, had granted to him for his + daily maintenance the sum of twenty-four stivers. + </p> + <p> + “I,” said Van Baerle to himself, “I am worth much less than Grotius. They + will hardly give me twelve stivers, and I shall live miserably; but never + mind, at all events I shall live.” + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly a terrible thought struck him. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he exclaimed, “how damp and misty that part of the country is, and + the soil so bad for the tulips! And then Rosa will not be at Loewestein!” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 13. What was going on all this Time in the Mind of one of the + Spectators + </h2> + <p> + Whilst Cornelius was engaged with his own thoughts, a coach had driven up + to the scaffold. This vehicle was for the prisoner. He was invited to + enter it, and he obeyed. + </p> + <p> + His last look was towards the Buytenhof. He hoped to see at the window the + face of Rosa, brightening up again. + </p> + <p> + But the coach was drawn by good horses, who soon carried Van Baerle away + from among the shouts which the rabble roared in honour of the most + magnanimous Stadtholder, mixing with it a spice of abuse against the + brothers De Witt and the godson of Cornelius, who had just now been saved + from death. + </p> + <p> + This reprieve suggested to the worthy spectators remarks such as the + following:— + </p> + <p> + “It’s very fortunate that we used such speed in having justice done to + that great villain John, and to that little rogue Cornelius, otherwise his + Highness might have snatched them from us, just as he has done this + fellow.” + </p> + <p> + Among all the spectators whom Van Baerle’s execution had attracted to the + Buytenhof, and whom the sudden turn of affairs had disagreeably surprised, + undoubtedly the one most disappointed was a certain respectably dressed + burgher, who from early morning had made such a good use of his feet and + elbows that he at last was separated from the scaffold only by the file of + soldiers which surrounded it. + </p> + <p> + Many had shown themselves eager to see the perfidious blood of the guilty + Cornelius flow, but not one had shown such a keen anxiety as the + individual just alluded to. + </p> + <p> + The most furious had come to the Buytenhof at daybreak, to secure a better + place; but he, outdoing even them, had passed the night at the threshold + of the prison, from whence, as we have already said, he had advanced to + the very foremost rank, unguibus et rostro,—that is to say, coaxing + some, and kicking the others. + </p> + <p> + And when the executioner had conducted the prisoner to the scaffold, the + burgher, who had mounted on the stone of the pump the better to see and be + seen, made to the executioner a sign which meant,— + </p> + <p> + “It’s a bargain, isn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + The executioner answered by another sign, which was meant to say,— + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet, it’s all right.” + </p> + <p> + This burgher was no other than Mynheer Isaac Boxtel, who since the arrest + of Cornelius had come to the Hague to try if he could not get hold of the + three bulbs of the black tulip. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel had at first tried to gain over Gryphus to his interest, but the + jailer had not only the snarling fierceness, but likewise the fidelity, of + a dog. He had therefore bristled up at Boxtel’s hatred, whom he had + suspected to be a warm friend of the prisoner, making trifling inquiries + to contrive with the more certainty some means of escape for him. + </p> + <p> + Thus to the very first proposals which Boxtel made to Gryphus to filch the + bulbs which Cornelius van Baerle must be supposed to conceal, if not in + his breast, at least in some corner of his cell, the surly jailer had only + answered by kicking Mynheer Isaac out, and setting the dog at him. + </p> + <p> + The piece which the mastiff had torn from his hose did not discourage + Boxtel. He came back to the charge, but this time Gryphus was in bed, + feverish, and with a broken arm. He therefore was not able to admit the + petitioner, who then addressed himself to Rosa, offering to buy her a + head-dress of pure gold if she would get the bulbs for him. On this, the + generous girl, although not yet knowing the value of the object of the + robbery, which was to be so well remunerated, had directed the tempter to + the executioner, as the heir of the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile the sentence had been pronounced. Thus Isaac had no more + time to bribe any one. He therefore clung to the idea which Rosa had + suggested: he went to the executioner. + </p> + <p> + Isaac had not the least doubt that Cornelius would die with the bulbs on + his heart. + </p> + <p> + But there were two things which Boxtel did not calculate upon:— + </p> + <p> + Rosa, that is to say, love; + </p> + <p> + William of Orange, that is to say, clemency. + </p> + <p> + But for Rosa and William, the calculations of the envious neighbour would + have been correct. + </p> + <p> + But for William, Cornelius would have died. + </p> + <p> + But for Rosa, Cornelius would have died with his bulbs on his heart. + </p> + <p> + Mynheer Boxtel went to the headsman, to whom he gave himself out as a + great friend of the condemned man; and from whom he bought all the clothes + of the dead man that was to be, for one hundred guilders; rather an + exorbitant sum, as he engaged to leave all the trinkets of gold and silver + to the executioner. + </p> + <p> + But what was the sum of a hundred guilders to a man who was all but sure + to buy with it the prize of the Haarlem Society? + </p> + <p> + It was money lent at a thousand per cent., which, as nobody will deny, was + a very handsome investment. + </p> + <p> + The headsman, on the other hand, had scarcely anything to do to earn his + hundred guilders. He needed only, as soon as the execution was over, to + allow Mynheer Boxtel to ascend the scaffold with his servants, to remove + the inanimate remains of his friend. + </p> + <p> + The thing was, moreover, quite customary among the “faithful brethren,” + when one of their masters died a public death in the yard of the + Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + A fanatic like Cornelius might very easily have found another fanatic who + would give a hundred guilders for his remains. + </p> + <p> + The executioner also readily acquiesced in the proposal, making only one + condition,—that of being paid in advance. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, like the people who enter a show at a fair, might be disappointed, + and refuse to pay on going out. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel paid in advance, and waited. + </p> + <p> + After this, the reader may imagine how excited Boxtel was; with what + anxiety he watched the guards, the Recorder, and the executioner; and with + what intense interest he surveyed the movements of Van Baerle. How would + he place himself on the block? how would he fall? and would he not, in + falling, crush those inestimable bulbs? had not he at least taken care to + enclose them in a golden box,—as gold is the hardest of all metals? + </p> + <p> + Every trifling delay irritated him. Why did that stupid executioner thus + lose time in brandishing his sword over the head of Cornelius, instead of + cutting that head off? + </p> + <p> + But when he saw the Recorder take the hand of the condemned, and raise + him, whilst drawing forth the parchment from his pocket,—when he + heard the pardon of the Stadtholder publicly read out,—then Boxtel + was no more like a human being; the rage and malice of the tiger, of the + hyena, and of the serpent glistened in his eyes, and vented itself in his + yell and his movements. Had he been able to get at Van Baerle, he would + have pounced upon him and strangled him. + </p> + <p> + And so, then, Cornelius was to live, and was to go with him to Loewestein, + and thither to his prison he would take with him his bulbs; and perhaps he + would even find a garden where the black tulip would flower for him. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, quite overcome by his frenzy, fell from the stone upon some + Orangemen, who, like him, were sorely vexed at the turn which affairs had + taken. They, mistaking the frantic cries of Mynheer Isaac for + demonstrations of joy, began to belabour him with kicks and cuffs, such as + could not have been administered in better style by any prize-fighter on + the other side of the Channel. + </p> + <p> + Blows were, however, nothing to him. He wanted to run after the coach + which was carrying away Cornelius with his bulbs. But in his hurry he + overlooked a paving-stone in his way, stumbled, lost his centre of + gravity, rolled over to a distance of some yards, and only rose again, + bruised and begrimed, after the whole rabble of the Hague, with their + muddy feet, had passed over him. + </p> + <p> + One would think that this was enough for one day, but Mynheer Boxtel did + not seem to think so, as, in addition to having his clothes torn, his back + bruised, and his hands scratched, he inflicted upon himself the further + punishment of tearing out his hair by handfuls, as an offering to that + goddess of envy who, as mythology teaches us, wears a head-dress of + serpents. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 14. The Pigeons of Dort + </h2> + <p> + It was indeed in itself a great honour for Cornelius van Baerle to be + confined in the same prison which had once received the learned master + Grotius. + </p> + <p> + But on arriving at the prison he met with an honour even greater. As + chance would have it, the cell formerly inhabited by the illustrious + Barneveldt happened to be vacant, when the clemency of the Prince of + Orange sent the tulip-fancier Van Baerle there. + </p> + <p> + The cell had a very bad character at the castle since the time when + Grotius, by means of the device of his wife, made escape from it in that + famous book-chest which the jailers forgot to examine. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, it seemed to Van Baerle an auspicious omen that this + very cell was assigned to him, for according to his ideas, a jailer ought + never to have given to a second pigeon the cage from which the first had + so easily flown. + </p> + <p> + The cell had an historical character. We will only state here that, with + the exception of an alcove which was contrived there for the use of Madame + Grotius, it differed in no respect from the other cells of the prison; + only, perhaps, it was a little higher, and had a splendid view from the + grated window. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius felt himself perfectly indifferent as to the place where he had + to lead an existence which was little more than vegetation. There were + only two things now for which he cared, and the possession of which was a + happiness enjoyed only in imagination. + </p> + <p> + A flower, and a woman; both of them, as he conceived, lost to him for + ever. + </p> + <p> + Fortunately the good doctor was mistaken. In his prison cell the most + adventurous life which ever fell to the lot of any tulip-fancier was + reserved for him. + </p> + <p> + One morning, whilst at his window inhaling the fresh air which came from + the river, and casting a longing look to the windmills of his dear old + city Dort, which were looming in the distance behind a forest of chimneys, + he saw flocks of pigeons coming from that quarter to perch fluttering on + the pointed gables of Loewestein. + </p> + <p> + These pigeons, Van Baerle said to himself, are coming from Dort, and + consequently may return there. By fastening a little note to the wing of + one of these pigeons, one might have a chance to send a message there. + Then, after a few moments’ consideration, he exclaimed,— + </p> + <p> + “I will do it.” + </p> + <p> + A man grows very patient who is twenty-eight years of age, and condemned + to a prison for life,—that is to say, to something like twenty-two + or twenty-three thousand days of captivity. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle, from whose thoughts the three bulbs were never absent, made a + snare for catching the pigeons, baiting the birds with all the resources + of his kitchen, such as it was for eight slivers (sixpence English) a day; + and, after a month of unsuccessful attempts, he at last caught a female + bird. + </p> + <p> + It cost him two more months to catch a male bird; he then shut them up + together, and having about the beginning of the year 1673 obtained some + eggs from them, he released the female, which, leaving the male behind to + hatch the eggs in her stead, flew joyously to Dort, with the note under + her wing. + </p> + <p> + She returned in the evening. She had preserved the note. + </p> + <p> + Thus it went on for fifteen days, at first to the disappointment, and then + to the great grief, of Van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + On the sixteenth day, at last, she came back without it. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle had addressed it to his nurse, the old Frisian woman; and + implored any charitable soul who might find it to convey it to her as + safely and as speedily as possible. + </p> + <p> + In this letter there was a little note enclosed for Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle’s nurse had received the letter in the following way. + </p> + <p> + Leaving Dort, Mynheer Isaac Boxtel had abandoned, not only his house, his + servants, his observatory, and his telescope, but also his pigeons. + </p> + <p> + The servant, having been left without wages, first lived on his little + savings, and then on his master’s pigeons. + </p> + <p> + Seeing this, the pigeons emigrated from the roof of Isaac Boxtel to that + of Cornelius van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + The nurse was a kind-hearted woman, who could not live without something + to love. She conceived an affection for the pigeons which had thrown + themselves on her hospitality; and when Boxtel’s servant reclaimed them + with culinary intentions, having eaten the first fifteen already, and now + wishing to eat the other fifteen, she offered to buy them from him for a + consideration of six stivers per head. + </p> + <p> + This being just double their value, the man was very glad to close the + bargain, and the nurse found herself in undisputed possession of the + pigeons of her master’s envious neighbour. + </p> + <p> + In the course of their wanderings, these pigeons with others visited the + Hague, Loewestein, and Rotterdam, seeking variety, doubtless, in the + flavour of their wheat or hempseed. + </p> + <p> + Chance, or rather God, for we can see the hand of God in everything, had + willed that Cornelius van Baerle should happen to hit upon one of these + very pigeons. + </p> + <p> + Therefore, if the envious wretch had not left Dort to follow his rival to + the Hague in the first place, and then to Gorcum or to Loewestein,—for + the two places are separated only by the confluence of the Waal and the + Meuse,—Van Baerle’s letter would have fallen into his hands and not + the nurse’s: in which event the poor prisoner, like the raven of the Roman + cobbler, would have thrown away his time, his trouble, and, instead of + having to relate the series of exciting events which are about to flow + from beneath our pen like the varied hues of a many coloured tapestry, we + should have naught to describe but a weary waste of days, dull and + melancholy and gloomy as night’s dark mantle. + </p> + <p> + The note, as we have said, had reached Van Baerle’s nurse. + </p> + <p> + And also it came to pass, that one evening in the beginning of February, + just when the stars were beginning to twinkle, Cornelius heard on the + staircase of the little turret a voice which thrilled through him. + </p> + <p> + He put his hand on his heart, and listened. + </p> + <p> + It was the sweet harmonious voice of Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Let us confess it, Cornelius was not so stupefied with surprise, or so + beyond himself with joy, as he would have been but for the pigeon, which, + in answer to his letter, had brought back hope to him under her empty + wing; and, knowing Rosa, he expected, if the note had ever reached her, to + hear of her whom he loved, and also of his three darling bulbs. + </p> + <p> + He rose, listened once more, and bent forward towards the door. + </p> + <p> + Yes, they were indeed the accents which had fallen so sweetly on his heart + at the Hague. + </p> + <p> + The question now was, whether Rosa, who had made the journey from the + Hague to Loewestein, and who—Cornelius did not understand how—had + succeeded even in penetrating into the prison, would also be fortunate + enough in penetrating to the prisoner himself. + </p> + <p> + Whilst Cornelius, debating this point within himself, was building all + sorts of castles in the air, and was struggling between hope and fear, the + shutter of the grating in the door opened, and Rosa, beaming with joy, and + beautiful in her pretty national costume—but still more beautiful + from the grief which for the last five months had blanched her cheeks—pressed + her little face against the wire grating of the window, saying to him,— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, sir! here I am!” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius stretched out his arms, and, looking to heaven, uttered a cry of + joy,— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa, Rosa!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! let us speak low: my father follows on my heels,” said the girl. + </p> + <p> + “Your father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he is in the courtyard at the bottom of the staircase, receiving the + instructions of the Governor; he will presently come up.” + </p> + <p> + “The instructions of the Governor?” + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me, I’ll try to tell you all in a few words. The Stadtholder + has a country-house, one league distant from Leyden, properly speaking a + kind of large dairy, and my aunt, who was his nurse, has the management of + it. As soon as I received your letter, which, alas! I could not read + myself, but which your housekeeper read to me, I hastened to my aunt; + there I remained until the Prince should come to the dairy; and when he + came, I asked him as a favour to allow my father to exchange his post at + the prison of the Hague with the jailer of the fortress of Loewestein. The + Prince could not have suspected my object; had he known it, he would have + refused my request, but as it is he granted it.” + </p> + <p> + “And so you are here?” + </p> + <p> + “As you see.” + </p> + <p> + “And thus I shall see you every day?” + </p> + <p> + “As often as I can manage it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa, my beautiful Rosa, do you love me a little?” + </p> + <p> + “A little?” she said, “you make no great pretensions, Mynheer Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius tenderly stretched out his hands towards her, but they were only + able to touch each other with the tips of their fingers through the wire + grating. + </p> + <p> + “Here is my father,” said she. + </p> + <p> + Rosa then abruptly drew back from the door, and ran to meet old Gryphus, + who made his appearance at the top of the staircase. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 15. The Little Grated Window + </h2> + <p> + Gryphus was followed by the mastiff. + </p> + <p> + The turnkey took the animal round the jail, so that, if needs be, he might + recognize the prisoners. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Rosa, “here is the famous prison from which Mynheer Grotius + escaped. You know Mynheer Grotius?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, that rogue Grotius, a friend of that villain Barneveldt, whom I + saw executed when I was a child. Ah! so Grotius; and that’s the chamber + from which he escaped. Well, I’ll answer for it that no one shall escape + after him in my time.” + </p> + <p> + And thus opening the door, he began in the dark to talk to the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + The dog, on his part, went up to the prisoner, and, growling, smelled + about his legs just as though to ask him what right he had still to be + alive, after having left the prison in the company of the Recorder and the + executioner. + </p> + <p> + But the fair Rosa called him to her side. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my master,” said Gryphus, holding up his lantern to throw a little + light around, “you see in me your new jailer. I am head turnkey, and have + all the cells under my care. I am not vicious, but I’m not to be trifled + with, as far as discipline goes.” + </p> + <p> + “My good Master Gryphus, I know you perfectly well,” said the prisoner, + approaching within the circle of light cast around by the lantern. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa! that’s you, Mynheer van Baerle,” said Gryphus. “That’s you; well, + I declare, it’s astonishing how people do meet.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes; and it’s really a great pleasure to me, good Master Gryphus, to + see that your arm is doing well, as you are able to hold your lantern with + it.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus knitted his brow. “Now, that’s just it,” he said, “people always + make blunders in politics. His Highness has granted you your life; I’m + sure I should never have done so.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t say so,” replied Cornelius; “why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you are the very man to conspire again. You learned people have + dealings with the devil.” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense, Master Gryphus. Are you dissatisfied with the manner in which I + have set your arm, or with the price that I asked you?” said Cornelius, + laughing. + </p> + <p> + “On the contrary,” growled the jailer, “you have set it only too well. + There is some witchcraft in this. After six weeks, I was able to use it as + if nothing had happened, so much so, that the doctor of the Buytenhof, who + knows his trade well, wanted to break it again, to set it in the regular + way, and promised me that I should have my blessed three months for my + money before I should be able to move it.” + </p> + <p> + “And you did not want that?” + </p> + <p> + “I said, ‘Nay, as long as I can make the sign of the cross with that arm’ + (Gryphus was a Roman Catholic), ‘I laugh at the devil.’” + </p> + <p> + “But if you laugh at the devil, Master Gryphus, you ought with so much + more reason to laugh at learned people.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, learned people, learned people! Why, I would rather have to guard ten + soldiers than one scholar. The soldiers smoke, guzzle, and get drunk; they + are gentle as lambs if you only give them brandy or Moselle, but scholars, + and drink, smoke, and fuddle—ah, yes, that’s altogether different. + They keep sober, spend nothing, and have their heads always clear to make + conspiracies. But I tell you, at the very outset, it won’t be such an easy + matter for you to conspire. First of all, you will have no books, no + paper, and no conjuring book. It’s books that helped Mynheer Grotius to + get off.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, Master Gryphus,” replied Van Baerle, “that if I have + entertained the idea of escaping, I most decidedly have it no longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” said Gryphus, “just look sharp: that’s what I shall do also. + But, for all that, I say his Highness has made a great mistake.” + </p> + <p> + “Not to have cut off my head? thank you, Master Gryphus.” + </p> + <p> + “Just so, look whether the Mynheer de Witt don’t keep very quiet now.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s very shocking what you say now, Master Gryphus,” cried Van Baerle, + turning away his head to conceal his disgust. “You forget that one of + those unfortunate gentlemen was my friend, and the other my second + father.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but I also remember that the one, as well as the other, was a + conspirator. And, moreover, I am speaking from Christian charity.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed! explain that a little to me, my good Master Gryphus. I do not + quite understand it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, if you had remained on the block of Master Harbruck——” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “You would not suffer any longer; whereas, I will not disguise it from + you, I shall lead you a sad life of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you for the promise, Master Gryphus.” + </p> + <p> + And whilst the prisoner smiled ironically at the old jailer, Rosa, from + the outside, answered by a bright smile, which carried sweet consolation + to the heart of Van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus stepped towards the window. + </p> + <p> + It was still light enough to see, although indistinctly, through the gray + haze of the evening, the vast expanse of the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “What view has one from here?” asked Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “Why, a very fine and pleasant one,” said Cornelius, looking at Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, too much of a view, too much.” + </p> + <p> + And at this moment the two pigeons, scared by the sight and especially by + the voice of the stranger, left their nest, and disappeared, quite + frightened in the evening mist. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa! what’s this?” cried Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “My pigeons,” answered Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Your pigeons,” cried the jailer, “your pigeons! has a prisoner anything + of his own?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then,” said Cornelius, “the pigeons which a merciful Father in + Heaven has lent to me.” + </p> + <p> + “So, here we have a breach of the rules already,” replied Gryphus. + “Pigeons! ah, young man, young man! I’ll tell you one thing, that before + to-morrow is over, your pigeons will boil in my pot.” + </p> + <p> + “First of all you should catch them, Master Gryphus. You won’t allow these + pigeons to be mine! Well, I vow they are even less yours than mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Omittance is no acquittance,” growled the jailer, “and I shall certainly + wring their necks before twenty-four hours are over: you may be sure of + that.” + </p> + <p> + Whilst giving utterance to this ill-natured promise, Gryphus put his head + out of the window to examine the nest. This gave Van Baerle time to run to + the door, and squeeze the hand of Rosa, who whispered to him,— + </p> + <p> + “At nine o’clock this evening.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus, quite taken up with the desire of catching the pigeons next day, + as he had promised he would do, saw and heard nothing of this short + interlude; and, after having closed the window, he took the arm of his + daughter, left the cell, turned the key twice, drew the bolts, and went + off to make the same kind promise to the other prisoners. + </p> + <p> + He had scarcely withdrawn, when Cornelius went to the door to listen to + the sound of his footsteps, and, as soon as they had died away, he ran to + the window, and completely demolished the nest of the pigeons. + </p> + <p> + Rather than expose them to the tender mercies of his bullying jailer, he + drove away for ever those gentle messengers to whom he owed the happiness + of having seen Rosa again. + </p> + <p> + This visit of the jailer, his brutal threats, and the gloomy prospect of + the harshness with which, as he had before experienced, Gryphus watched + his prisoners,—all this was unable to extinguish in Cornelius the + sweet thoughts, and especially the sweet hope, which the presence of Rosa + had reawakened in his heart. + </p> + <p> + He waited eagerly to hear the clock of the tower of Loewestein strike + nine. + </p> + <p> + The last chime was still vibrating through the air, when Cornelius heard + on the staircase the light step and the rustle of the flowing dress of the + fair Frisian maid, and soon after a light appeared at the little grated + window in the door, on which the prisoner fixed his earnest gaze. + </p> + <p> + The shutter opened on the outside. + </p> + <p> + “Here I am,” said Rosa, out of breath from running up the stairs, “here I + am.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my good Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + “You are then glad to see me?” + </p> + <p> + “Can you ask? But how did you contrive to get here? tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to me. My father falls asleep every evening almost immediately + after his supper; I then make him lie down, a little stupefied with his + gin. Don’t say anything about it, because, thanks to this nap, I shall be + able to come every evening and chat for an hour with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I thank you, Rosa, dear Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + Saying these words, Cornelius put his face so near the little window that + Rosa withdrew hers. + </p> + <p> + “I have brought back to you your bulbs.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius’s heart leaped with joy. He had not yet dared to ask Rosa what + she had done with the precious treasure which he had intrusted to her. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you have preserved them, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not give them to me as a thing which was dear to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but as I have given them to you, it seems to me that they belong to + you.” + </p> + <p> + “They would have belonged to me after your death, but, fortunately, you + are alive now. Oh how I blessed his Highness in my heart! If God grants to + him all the happiness that I have wished him, certainly Prince William + will be the happiest man on earth. When I looked at the Bible of your + godfather Cornelius, I was resolved to bring back to you your bulbs, only + I did not know how to accomplish it. I had, however, already formed the + plan of going to the Stadtholder, to ask from him for my father the + appointment of jailer of Loewestein, when your housekeeper brought me your + letter. Oh, how we wept together! But your letter only confirmed me the + more in my resolution. I then left for Leyden, and the rest you know.” + </p> + <p> + “What, my dear Rosa, you thought, even before receiving my letter, of + coming to meet me again?” + </p> + <p> + “If I thought of it,” said Rosa, allowing her love to get the better of + her bashfulness, “I thought of nothing else.” + </p> + <p> + And, saying these words, Rosa looked so exceedingly pretty, that for the + second time Cornelius placed his forehead and lips against the wire + grating; of course, we must presume with the laudable desire to thank the + young lady. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, however, drew back as before. + </p> + <p> + “In truth,” she said, with that coquetry which somehow or other is in the + heart of every young girl, “I have often been sorry that I am not able to + read, but never so much so as when your housekeeper brought me your + letter. I kept the paper in my hands, which spoke to other people, and + which was dumb to poor stupid me.” + </p> + <p> + “So you have often regretted not being able to read,” said Cornelius. “I + should just like to know on what occasions.” + </p> + <p> + “Troth,” she said, laughing, “to read all the letters which were written + to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you received letters, Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + “By hundreds.” + </p> + <p> + “But who wrote to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Who! why, in the first place, all the students who passed over the + Buytenhof, all the officers who went to parade, all the clerks, and even + the merchants who saw me at my little window.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you do with all these notes, my dear Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + “Formerly,” she answered, “I got some friend to read them to me, which was + capital fun, but since a certain time—well, what use is it to attend + to all this nonsense?—since a certain time I have burnt them.” + </p> + <p> + “Since a certain time!” exclaimed Cornelius, with a look beaming with love + and joy. + </p> + <p> + Rosa cast down her eyes, blushing. In her sweet confusion, she did not + observe the lips of Cornelius, which, alas! only met the cold + wire-grating. Yet, in spite of this obstacle, they communicated to the + lips of the young girl the glowing breath of the most tender kiss. + </p> + <p> + At this sudden outburst of tenderness, Rosa grew very pale,—perhaps + paler than she had been on the day of the execution. She uttered a + plaintive sob, closed her fine eyes, and fled, trying in vain to still the + beating of her heart. + </p> + <p> + And thus Cornelius was again alone. + </p> + <p> + Rosa had fled so precipitately, that she completely forgot to return to + Cornelius the three bulbs of the Black Tulip. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 16. Master and Pupil + </h2> + <p> + The worthy Master Gryphus, as the reader may have seen, was far from + sharing the kindly feeling of his daughter for the godson of Cornelius de + Witt. + </p> + <p> + There being only five prisoners at Loewestein, the post of turnkey was not + a very onerous one, but rather a sort of sinecure, given after a long + period of service. + </p> + <p> + But the worthy jailer, in his zeal, had magnified with all the power of + his imagination the importance of his office. To him Cornelius had swelled + to the gigantic proportions of a criminal of the first order. He looked + upon him, therefore, as the most dangerous of all his prisoners. He + watched all his steps, and always spoke to him with an angry countenance; + punishing him for what he called his dreadful rebellion against such a + clement prince as the Stadtholder. + </p> + <p> + Three times a day he entered Van Baerle’s cell, expecting to find him + trespassing; but Cornelius had ceased to correspond, since his + correspondent was at hand. It is even probable that, if Cornelius had + obtained his full liberty, with permission to go wherever he liked, the + prison, with Rosa and his bulbs, would have appeared to him preferable to + any other habitation in the world without Rosa and his bulbs. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, in fact, had promised to come and see him every evening, and from + the first evening she had kept her word. + </p> + <p> + On the following evening she went up as before, with the same + mysteriousness and the same precaution. Only she had this time resolved + within herself not to approach too near the grating. In order, however, to + engage Van Baerle in a conversation from the very first which would + seriously occupy his attention, she tendered to him through the grating + the three bulbs, which were still wrapped up in the same paper. + </p> + <p> + But to the great astonishment of Rosa, Van Baerle pushed back her white + hand with the tips of his fingers. + </p> + <p> + The young man had been considering about the matter. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” he said. “I think we should risk too much by embarking our + whole fortune in one ship. Only think, my dear Rosa, that the question is + to carry out an enterprise which until now has been considered impossible, + namely, that of making the great black tulip flower. Let us, therefore, + take every possible precaution, so that in case of a failure we may not + have anything to reproach ourselves with. I will now tell you the way I + have traced out for us.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa was all attention to what he would say, much more on account of the + importance which the unfortunate tulip-fancier attached to it, than that + she felt interested in the matter herself. + </p> + <p> + “I will explain to you, Rosa,” he said. “I dare say you have in this + fortress a small garden, or some courtyard, or, if not that, at least some + terrace.” + </p> + <p> + “We have a very fine garden,” said Rosa, “it runs along the edge of the + Waal, and is full of fine old trees.” + </p> + <p> + “Could you bring me some soil from the garden, that I may judge?” + </p> + <p> + “I will do so to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Take some from a sunny spot, and some from a shady, so that I may judge + of its properties in a dry and in a moist state.” + </p> + <p> + “Be assured I shall.” + </p> + <p> + “After having chosen the soil, and, if it be necessary, modified it, we + will divide our three bulbs; you will take one and plant it, on the day + that I will tell you, in the soil chosen by me. It is sure to flower, if + you tend it according to my directions.” + </p> + <p> + “I will not lose sight of it for a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “You will give me another, which I will try to grow here in my cell, and + which will help me to beguile those long weary hours when I cannot see + you. I confess to you I have very little hope for the latter one, and I + look beforehand on this unfortunate bulb as sacrificed to my selfishness. + However, the sun sometimes visits me. I will, besides, try to convert + everything into an artificial help, even the heat and the ashes of my + pipe, and lastly, we, or rather you, will keep in reserve the third sucker + as our last resource, in case our first two experiments should prove a + failure. In this manner, my dear Rosa, it is impossible that we should not + succeed in gaining the hundred thousand guilders for your marriage + portion; and how dearly shall we enjoy that supreme happiness of seeing + our work brought to a successful issue!” + </p> + <p> + “I know it all now,” said Rosa. “I will bring you the soil to-morrow, and + you will choose it for your bulb and for mine. As to that in which yours + is to grow, I shall have several journeys to convey it to you, as I cannot + bring much at a time.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no hurry for it, dear Rosa; our tulips need not be put into the + ground for a month at least. So you see we have plenty of time before us. + Only I hope that, in planting your bulb, you will strictly follow all my + instructions.” + </p> + <p> + “I promise you I will.” + </p> + <p> + “And when you have once planted it, you will communicate to me all the + circumstances which may interest our nursling; such as change of weather, + footprints on the walks, or footprints in the borders. You will listen at + night whether our garden is not resorted to by cats. A couple of those + untoward animals laid waste two of my borders at Dort.” + </p> + <p> + “I will listen.” + </p> + <p> + “On moonlight nights have you ever looked at your garden, my dear child?” + </p> + <p> + “The window of my sleeping-room overlooks it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, on moonlight nights you will observe whether any rats come out from + the holes in the wall. The rats are most mischievous by their gnawing + everything; and I have heard unfortunate tulip-growers complain most + bitterly of Noah for having put a couple of rats in the ark.” + </p> + <p> + “I will observe, and if there are cats or rats——” + </p> + <p> + “You will apprise me of it,—that’s right. And, moreover,” Van + Baerle, having become mistrustful in his captivity, continued, “there is + an animal much more to be feared than even the cat or the rat.” + </p> + <p> + “What animal?” + </p> + <p> + “Man. You comprehend, my dear Rosa, a man may steal a guilder, and risk + the prison for such a trifle, and, consequently, it is much more likely + that some one might steal a hundred thousand guilders.” + </p> + <p> + “No one ever enters the garden but myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, thank you, my dear Rosa. All the joy of my life has still to + come from you.” + </p> + <p> + And as the lips of Van Baerle approached the grating with the same ardor + as the day before, and as, moreover, the hour for retiring had struck, + Rosa drew back her head, and stretched out her hand. + </p> + <p> + In this pretty little hand, of which the coquettish damsel was + particularly proud, was the bulb. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius kissed most tenderly the tips of her fingers. Did he do so + because the hand kept one of the bulbs of the great black tulip, or + because this hand was Rosa’s? We shall leave this point to the decision of + wiser heads than ours. + </p> + <p> + Rosa withdrew with the other two suckers, pressing them to her heart. + </p> + <p> + Did she press them to her heart because they were the bulbs of the great + black tulip, or because she had them from Cornelius? + </p> + <p> + This point, we believe, might be more readily decided than the other. + </p> + <p> + However that may have been, from that moment life became sweet, and again + full of interest to the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, as we have seen, had returned to him one of the suckers. + </p> + <p> + Every evening she brought to him, handful by handful, a quantity of soil + from that part of the garden which he had found to be the best, and which, + indeed, was excellent. + </p> + <p> + A large jug, which Cornelius had skilfully broken, did service as a + flower-pot. He half filled it, and mixed the earth of the garden with a + small portion of dried river mud, a mixture which formed an excellent + soil. + </p> + <p> + Then, at the beginning of April, he planted his first sucker in that jug. + </p> + <p> + Not a day passed on which Rosa did not come to have her chat with + Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + The tulips, concerning whose cultivation Rosa was taught all the mysteries + of the art, formed the principal topic of the conversation; but, + interesting as the subject was, people cannot always talk about tulips. + </p> + <p> + They therefore began to chat also about other things, and the + tulip-fancier found out to his great astonishment what a vast range of + subjects a conversation may comprise. + </p> + <p> + Only Rosa had made it a habit to keep her pretty face invariably six + inches distant from the grating, having perhaps become distrustful of + herself. + </p> + <p> + There was one thing especially which gave Cornelius almost as much anxiety + as his bulbs—a subject to which he always returned—the + dependence of Rosa on her father. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, Van Baerle’s happiness depended on the whim of this man. He might + one day find Loewestein dull, or the air of the place unhealthy, or the + gin bad, and leave the fortress, and take his daughter with him, when + Cornelius and Rosa would again be separated. + </p> + <p> + “Of what use would the carrier pigeons then be?” said Cornelius to Rosa, + “as you, my dear girl, would not be able to read what I should write to + you, nor to write to me your thoughts in return.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” answered Rosa, who in her heart was as much afraid of a separation + as Cornelius himself, “we have one hour every evening, let us make good + use of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think we make such a bad use of it as it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us employ it even better,” said Rosa, smiling. “Teach me to read and + write. I shall make the best of your lessons, believe me; and, in this + way, we shall never be separated any more, except by our own will.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, we have an eternity before us,” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + Rosa smiled, and quietly shrugged her shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “Will you remain for ever in prison?” she said, “and after having granted + you your life, will not his Highness also grant you your liberty? And will + you not then recover your fortune, and be a rich man, and then, when you + are driving in your own coach, riding your own horse, will you still look + at poor Rosa, the daughter of a jailer, scarcely better than a hangman?” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius tried to contradict her, and certainly he would have done so + with all his heart, and with all the sincerity of a soul full of love. + </p> + <p> + She, however, smilingly interrupted him, saying, “How is your tulip going + on?” + </p> + <p> + To speak to Cornelius of his tulip was an expedient resorted to by her to + make him forget everything, even Rosa herself. + </p> + <p> + “Very well, indeed,” he said, “the coat is growing black, the sprouting + has commenced, the veins of the bulb are swelling, in eight days hence, + and perhaps sooner, we may distinguish the first buds of the leaves + protruding. And yours Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have done things on a large scale, and according to your + directions.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, let me hear, Rosa, what you have done,” said Cornelius, with as + tender an anxiety as he had lately shown to herself. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, smiling, for in her own heart she could not help + studying this double love of the prisoner for herself and for the black + tulip, “I have done things on a large scale; I have prepared a bed as you + described it to me, on a clear spot, far from trees and walls, in a soil + slightly mixed with sand, rather moist than dry without a fragment of + stone or pebble.” + </p> + <p> + “Well done, Rosa, well done.” + </p> + <p> + “I am now only waiting for your further orders to put in the bulb, you + know that I must be behindhand with you, as I have in my favour all the + chances of good air, of the sun, and abundance of moisture.” + </p> + <p> + “All true, all true,” exclaimed Cornelius, clapping his hands with joy, + “you are a good pupil, Rosa, and you are sure to gain your hundred + thousand guilders.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t forget,” said Rosa, smiling, “that your pupil, as you call me, has + still other things to learn besides the cultivation of tulips.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, and I am as anxious as you are, Rosa, that you should learn to + read.” + </p> + <p> + “When shall we begin?” + </p> + <p> + “At once.” + </p> + <p> + “No, to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Why to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Because to-day our hour is expired, and I must leave you.” + </p> + <p> + “Already? But what shall we read?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Rosa, “I have a book,—a book which I hope will bring us + luck.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + On the following evening Rosa returned with the Bible of Cornelius de + Witt. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 17. The First Bulb + </h2> + <p> + On the following evening, as we have said, Rosa returned with the Bible of + Cornelius de Witt. + </p> + <p> + Then began between the master and the pupil one of those charming scenes + which are the delight of the novelist who has to describe them. + </p> + <p> + The grated window, the only opening through which the two lovers were able + to communicate, was too high for conveniently reading a book, although it + had been quite convenient for them to read each other’s faces. + </p> + <p> + Rosa therefore had to press the open book against the grating edgewise, + holding above it in her right hand the lamp, but Cornelius hit upon the + lucky idea of fixing it to the bars, so as to afford her a little rest. + Rosa was then enabled to follow with her finger the letters and syllables, + which she was to spell for Cornelius, who with a straw pointed out the + letters to his attentive pupil through the holes of the grating. + </p> + <p> + The light of the lamp illuminated the rich complexion of Rosa, her blue + liquid eyes, and her golden hair under her head-dress of gold brocade, + with her fingers held up, and showing in the blood, as it flowed downwards + in the veins that pale pink hue which shines before the light owing to the + living transparency of the flesh tint. + </p> + <p> + Rosa’s intellect rapidly developed itself under the animating influence of + Cornelius, and when the difficulties seemed too arduous, the sympathy of + two loving hearts seemed to smooth them away. + </p> + <p> + And Rosa, after having returned to her room, repeated in her solitude the + reading lessons, and at the same time recalled all the delight which she + had felt whilst receiving them. + </p> + <p> + One evening she came half an hour later than usual. This was too + extraordinary an instance not to call forth at once Cornelius’s inquiries + after its cause. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! do not be angry with me,” she said, “it is not my fault. My father + has renewed an acquaintance with an old crony who used to visit him at the + Hague, and to ask him to let him see the prison. He is a good sort of + fellow, fond of his bottle, tells funny stories, and moreover is very free + with his money, so as always to be ready to stand a treat.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know anything further of him?” asked Cornelius, surprised. + </p> + <p> + “No,” she answered; “it’s only for about a fortnight that my father has + taken such a fancy to this friend who is so assiduous in visiting him.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, so,” said Cornelius, shaking his head uneasily as every new incident + seemed to him to forebode some catastrophe; “very likely some spy, one of + those who are sent into jails to watch both prisoners and their keepers.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe that,” said Rosa, smiling; “if that worthy person is + spying after any one, it is certainly not after my father.” + </p> + <p> + “After whom, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Me, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “You?” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” said Rosa, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that’s true,” Cornelius observed, with a sigh. “You will not always + have suitors in vain; this man may become your husband.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t say anything to the contrary.” + </p> + <p> + “What cause have you to entertain such a happy prospect?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather say, this fear, Mynheer Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Rosa, you are right; well, I will say then, this fear?” + </p> + <p> + “I have only this reason——” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, I am anxious to hear.” + </p> + <p> + “This man came several times before to the Buytenhof, at the Hague. I + remember now, it was just about the time when you were confined there. + When I left, he left too; when I came here, he came after me. At the Hague + his pretext was that he wanted to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “See me?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it must have undoubtedly been only a pretext for now, when he could + plead the same reason, as you are my father’s prisoner again, he does not + care any longer for you; quite the contrary,—I heard him say to my + father only yesterday that he did not know you.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on, Rosa, pray do, that I may guess who that man is, and what he + wants.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you quite sure, Mynheer Cornelius, that none of your friends can + interest himself for you?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no friends, Rosa; I have only my old nurse, whom you know, and who + knows you. Alas, poor Sue! she would come herself, and use no roundabout + ways. She would at once say to your father, or to you, ‘My good sir, or my + good miss, my child is here; see how grieved I am; let me see him only for + one hour, and I’ll pray for you as long as I live.’ No, no,” continued + Cornelius; “with the exception of my poor old Sue, I have no friends in + this world.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I come back to what I thought before; and the more so as last + evening at sunset, whilst I was arranging the border where I am to plant + your bulb, I saw a shadow gliding between the alder trees and the aspens. + I did not appear to see him, but it was this man. He concealed himself and + saw me digging the ground, and certainly it was me whom he followed, and + me whom he was spying after. I could not move my rake, or touch one atom + of soil, without his noticing it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, yes, he is in love with you,” said Cornelius. “Is he young? Is + he handsome?” + </p> + <p> + Saying this he looked anxiously at Rosa, eagerly waiting for her answer. + </p> + <p> + “Young? handsome?” cried Rosa, bursting into a laugh. “He is hideous to + look at; crooked, nearly fifty years of age, and never dares to look me in + the face, or to speak, except in an undertone.” + </p> + <p> + “And his name?” + </p> + <p> + “Jacob Gisels.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you see that, at all events, he does not come after you.” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, if he loves you, Rosa, which is very likely, as to see you + is to love you, at least you don’t love him.” + </p> + <p> + “To be sure I don’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you wish me to keep my mind easy?” + </p> + <p> + “I should certainly ask you to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, now as you begin to know how to read you will read all that I + write to you of the pangs of jealousy and of absence, won’t you, Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall read it, if you write with good big letters.” + </p> + <p> + Then, as the turn which the conversation took began to make Rosa uneasy, + she asked,— + </p> + <p> + “By the bye, how is your tulip going on?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa, only imagine my joy, this morning I looked at it in the sun, + and after having moved the soil aside which covers the bulb, I saw the + first sprouting of the leaves. This small germ has caused me a much + greater emotion than the order of his Highness which turned aside the + sword already raised at the Buytenhof.” + </p> + <p> + “You hope, then?” said Rosa, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, in my turn, when shall I plant my bulb?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the first favourable day I will tell you; but, whatever you do, let + nobody help you, and don’t confide your secret to any one in the world; do + you see, a connoisseur by merely looking at the bulb would be able to + distinguish its value; and so, my dearest Rosa, be careful in locking up + the third sucker which remains to you.” + </p> + <p> + “It is still wrapped up in the same paper in which you put it, and just as + you gave it me. I have laid it at the bottom of my chest under my point + lace, which keeps it dry, without pressing upon it. But good night, my + poor captive gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + “How? already?” + </p> + <p> + “It must be, it must be.” + </p> + <p> + “Coming so late and going so soon.” + </p> + <p> + “My father might grow impatient not seeing me return, and that precious + lover might suspect a rival.” + </p> + <p> + Here she listened uneasily. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Van Baerle. “I thought I heard something.” + </p> + <p> + “What, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Something like a step, creaking on the staircase.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” said the prisoner, “that cannot be Master Gryphus, he is always + heard at a distance.” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not my father, I am quite sure, but——” + </p> + <p> + “But?” + </p> + <p> + “But it might be Mynheer Jacob.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa rushed toward the staircase, and a door was really heard rapidly to + close before the young damsel had got down the first ten steps. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius was very uneasy about it, but it was after all only a prelude to + greater anxieties. + </p> + <p> + The flowing day passed without any remarkable incident. Gryphus made his + three visits, and discovered nothing. He never came at the same hours as + he hoped thus to discover the secrets of the prisoner. Van Baerle, + therefore, had devised a contrivance, a sort of pulley, by means of which + he was able to lower or to raise his jug below the ledge of tiles and + stone before his window. The strings by which this was effected he had + found means to cover with that moss which generally grows on tiles, or in + the crannies of the walls. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus suspected nothing, and the device succeeded for eight days. One + morning, however, when Cornelius, absorbed in the contemplation of his + bulb, from which a germ of vegetation was already peeping forth, had not + heard old Gryphus coming upstairs as a gale of wind was blowing which + shook the whole tower, the door suddenly opened. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus, perceiving an unknown and consequently a forbidden object in the + hands of his prisoner, pounced upon it with the same rapidity as the hawk + on its prey. + </p> + <p> + As ill luck would have it, his coarse, hard hand, the same which he had + broken, and which Cornelius van Baerle had set so well, grasped at once in + the midst of the jug, on the spot where the bulb was lying in the soil. + </p> + <p> + “What have you got here?” he roared. “Ah! have I caught you?” and with + this he grabbed in the soil. + </p> + <p> + “I? nothing, nothing,” cried Cornelius, trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! have I caught you? a jug and earth in it There is some criminal + secret at the bottom of all this.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my good Master Gryphus,” said Van Baerle, imploringly, and anxious as + the partridge robbed of her young by the reaper. + </p> + <p> + In fact, Gryphus was beginning to dig the soil with his crooked fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Take care, sir, take care,” said Cornelius, growing quite pale. + </p> + <p> + “Care of what? Zounds! of what?” roared the jailer. + </p> + <p> + “Take care, I say, you will crush it, Master Gryphus.” + </p> + <p> + And with a rapid and almost frantic movement he snatched the jug from the + hands of Gryphus, and hid it like a treasure under his arms. + </p> + <p> + But Gryphus, obstinate, like an old man, and more and more convinced that + he was discovering here a conspiracy against the Prince of Orange, rushed + up to his prisoner, raising his stick; seeing, however, the impassible + resolution of the captive to protect his flower-pot he was convinced that + Cornelius trembled much less for his head than for his jug. + </p> + <p> + He therefore tried to wrest it from him by force. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” said the jailer, furious, “here, you see, you are rebelling.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave me my tulip,” cried Van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, tulip,” replied the old man, “we know well the shifts of + prisoners.” + </p> + <p> + “But I vow to you——” + </p> + <p> + “Let go,” repeated Gryphus, stamping his foot, “let go, or I shall call + the guard.” + </p> + <p> + “Call whoever you like, but you shall not have this flower except with my + life.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus, exasperated, plunged his finger a second time into the soil, and + now he drew out the bulb, which certainly looked quite black; and whilst + Van Baerle, quite happy to have saved the vessel, did not suspect that the + adversary had possessed himself of its precious contents, Gryphus hurled + the softened bulb with all his force on the flags, where almost + immediately after it was crushed to atoms under his heavy shoe. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle saw the work of destruction, got a glimpse of the juicy remains + of his darling bulb, and, guessing the cause of the ferocious joy of + Gryphus, uttered a cry of agony, which would have melted the heart even of + that ruthless jailer who some years before killed Pelisson’s spider. + </p> + <p> + The idea of striking down this spiteful bully passed like lightning + through the brain of the tulip-fancier. The blood rushed to his brow, and + seemed like fire in his eyes, which blinded him, and he raised in his two + hands the heavy jug with all the now useless earth which remained in it. + One instant more, and he would have flung it on the bald head of old + Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + But a cry stopped him; a cry of agony, uttered by poor Rosa, who, + trembling and pale, with her arms raised to heaven, made her appearance + behind the grated window, and thus interposed between her father and her + friend. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus then understood the danger with which he had been threatened, and + he broke out in a volley of the most terrible abuse. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed,” said Cornelius to him, “you must be a very mean and spiteful + fellow to rob a poor prisoner of his only consolation, a tulip bulb.” + </p> + <p> + “For shame, my father,” Rosa chimed in, “it is indeed a crime you have + committed here.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, is that you, my little chatter-box?” the old man cried, boiling with + rage and turning towards her; “don’t you meddle with what don’t concern + you, but go down as quickly as possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunate me,” continued Cornelius, overwhelmed with grief. + </p> + <p> + “After all, it is but a tulip,” Gryphus resumed, as he began to be a + little ashamed of himself. “You may have as many tulips as you like: I + have three hundred of them in my loft.” + </p> + <p> + “To the devil with your tulips!” cried Cornelius; “you are worthy of each + other: had I a hundred thousand millions of them, I would gladly give them + for the one which you have just destroyed.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, so!” Gryphus said, in a tone of triumph; “now there we have it. It + was not your tulip you cared for. There was in that false bulb some + witchcraft, perhaps some means of correspondence with conspirators against + his Highness who has granted you your life. I always said they were wrong + in not cutting your head off.” + </p> + <p> + “Father, father!” cried Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! it is better as it is now,” repeated Gryphus, growing warm; “I + have destroyed it, and I’ll do the same again, as often as you repeat the + trick. Didn’t I tell you, my fine fellow, that I would make your life a + hard one?” + </p> + <p> + “A curse on you!” Cornelius exclaimed, quite beyond himself with despair, + as he gathered, with his trembling fingers, the remnants of that bulb on + which he had rested so many joys and so many hopes. + </p> + <p> + “We shall plant the other to-morrow, my dear Mynheer Cornelius,” said + Rosa, in a low voice, who understood the intense grief of the unfortunate + tulip-fancier, and who, with the pure sacred love of her innocent heart, + poured these kind words, like a drop of balm, on the bleeding wounds of + Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 18. Rosa’s Lover + </h2> + <p> + Rosa had scarcely pronounced these consolatory words when a voice was + heard from the staircase asking Gryphus how matters were going on. + </p> + <p> + “Do you hear, father?” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Master Jacob calls you, he is uneasy.” + </p> + <p> + “There was such a noise,” said Gryphus; “wouldn’t you have thought he + would murder me, this doctor? They are always very troublesome fellows, + these scholars.” + </p> + <p> + Then, pointing with his finger towards the staircase, he said to Rosa: + “Just lead the way, Miss.” + </p> + <p> + After this he locked the door and called out: “I shall be with you + directly, friend Jacob.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Cornelius, thus left alone with his bitter grief, muttered to + himself,— + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you old hangman! it is me you have trodden under foot; you have + murdered me; I shall not survive it.” + </p> + <p> + And certainly the unfortunate prisoner would have fallen ill but for the + counterpoise which Providence had granted to his grief, and which was + called Rosa. + </p> + <p> + In the evening she came back. Her first words announced to Cornelius that + henceforth her father would make no objection to his cultivating flowers. + </p> + <p> + “And how do you know that?” the prisoner asked, with a doleful look. + </p> + <p> + “I know it because he has said so.” + </p> + <p> + “To deceive me, perhaps.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he repents.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah yes! but too late.” + </p> + <p> + “This repentance is not of himself.” + </p> + <p> + “And who put it into him?” + </p> + <p> + “If you only knew how his friend scolded him!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Master Jacob; he does not leave you, then, that Master Jacob?” + </p> + <p> + “At any rate, he leaves us as little as he can help.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, she smiled in such a way that the little cloud of jealousy + which had darkened the brow of Cornelius speedily vanished. + </p> + <p> + “How was it?” asked the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Well, being asked by his friend, my father told at supper the whole story + of the tulip, or rather of the bulb, and of his own fine exploit of + crushing it.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius heaved a sigh, which might have been called a groan. + </p> + <p> + “Had you only seen Master Jacob at that moment!” continued Rosa. “I really + thought he would set fire to the castle; his eyes were like two flaming + torches, his hair stood on end, and he clinched his fist for a moment; I + thought he would have strangled my father.” + </p> + <p> + “‘You have done that,’ he cried, ‘you have crushed the bulb?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Indeed I have.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘It is infamous,’ said Master Jacob, ‘it is odious! You have committed a + great crime!’ + </p> + <p> + “My father was quite dumbfounded. + </p> + <p> + “‘Are you mad, too?’ he asked his friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, what a worthy man is this Master Jacob!” muttered Cornelius,—“an + honest soul, an excellent heart that he is.” + </p> + <p> + “The truth is, that it is impossible to treat a man more rudely than he + did my father; he was really quite in despair, repeating over and over + again,— + </p> + <p> + “‘Crushed, crushed the bulb! my God, my God! crushed!’ + </p> + <p> + “Then, turning toward me, he asked, ‘But it was not the only one that he + had?’” + </p> + <p> + “Did he ask that?” inquired Cornelius, with some anxiety. + </p> + <p> + “‘You think it was not the only one?’ said my father. ‘Very well, we shall + search for the others.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You will search for the others?’ cried Jacob, taking my father by the + collar; but he immediately loosed him. Then, turning towards me, he + continued, asking ‘And what did that poor young man say?’ + </p> + <p> + “I did not know what to answer, as you had so strictly enjoined me never + to allow any one to guess the interest which you are taking in the bulb. + Fortunately, my father saved me from the difficulty by chiming in,— + </p> + <p> + “‘What did he say? Didn’t he fume and fret?’ + </p> + <p> + “I interrupted him, saying, ‘Was it not natural that he should be furious, + you were so unjust and brutal, father?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Well, now, are you mad?’ cried my father; ‘what immense misfortune is it + to crush a tulip bulb? You may buy a hundred of them in the market of + Gorcum.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Perhaps some less precious one than that was!’ I quite incautiously + replied.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did Jacob say or do at these words?” asked Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “At these words, if I must say it, his eyes seemed to flash like + lightning.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Cornelius, “that was not all; I am sure he said something in + his turn.” + </p> + <p> + “‘So, then, my pretty Rosa,’ he said, with a voice as sweet a honey,—‘so + you think that bulb to have been a precious one?’ + </p> + <p> + “I saw that I had made a blunder. + </p> + <p> + “‘What do I know?’ I said, negligently; ‘do I understand anything of + tulips? I only know—as unfortunately it is our lot to live with + prisoners—that for them any pastime is of value. This poor Mynheer + van Baerle amused himself with this bulb. Well, I think it very cruel to + take from him the only thing that he could have amused himself with.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘But, first of all,’ said my father, ‘we ought to know how he has + contrived to procure this bulb.’ + </p> + <p> + “I turned my eyes away to avoid my father’s look; but I met those of + Jacob. + </p> + <p> + “It was as if he had tried to read my thoughts at the bottom of my heart. + </p> + <p> + “Some little show of anger sometimes saves an answer. I shrugged my + shoulders, turned my back, and advanced towards the door. + </p> + <p> + “But I was kept by something which I heard, although it was uttered in a + very low voice only. + </p> + <p> + “Jacob said to my father,— + </p> + <p> + “‘It would not be so difficult to ascertain that.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘How so?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘You need only search his person: and if he has the other bulbs, we shall + find them, as there usually are three suckers!’” + </p> + <p> + “Three suckers!” cried Cornelius. “Did you say that I have three?” + </p> + <p> + “The word certainly struck me just as much as it does you. I turned round. + They were both of them so deeply engaged in their conversation that they + did not observe my movement. + </p> + <p> + “‘But,’ said my father, ‘perhaps he has not got his bulbs about him?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Then take him down, under some pretext or other and I will search his + cell in the meanwhile.’” + </p> + <p> + “Halloa, halloa!” said Cornelius. “But this Mr. Jacob of yours is a + villain, it seems.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid he is.” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, Rosa,” continued Cornelius, with a pensive air. + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not tell me that on the day when you prepared your borders this + man followed you?” + </p> + <p> + “So he did.” + </p> + <p> + “That he glided like a shadow behind the elder trees?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly.” + </p> + <p> + “That not one of your movements escaped him?” + </p> + <p> + “Not one, indeed.” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa,” said Cornelius, growing quite pale. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “It was not you he was after.” + </p> + <p> + “Who else, then?” + </p> + <p> + “It is not you that he was in love with!” + </p> + <p> + “But with whom else?” + </p> + <p> + “He was after my bulb, and is in love with my tulip!” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t say so! And yet it is very possible,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Will you make sure of it?” + </p> + <p> + “In what manner?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it would be very easy!” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “Go to-morrow into the garden; manage matters so that Jacob may know, as + he did the first time, that you are going there, and that he may follow + you. Feign to put the bulb into the ground; leave the garden, but look + through the keyhole of the door and watch him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and what then?” + </p> + <p> + “What then? We shall do as he does.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Rosa, with a sigh, “you are very fond of your bulbs.” + </p> + <p> + “To tell the truth,” said the prisoner, sighing likewise, “since your + father crushed that unfortunate bulb, I feel as if part of my own self had + been paralyzed.” + </p> + <p> + “Now just hear me,” said Rosa; “will you try something else?” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “Will you accept the proposition of my father?” + </p> + <p> + “Which proposition?” + </p> + <p> + “Did not he offer to you tulip bulbs by hundreds?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed he did.” + </p> + <p> + “Accept two or three, and, along with them, you may grow the third + sucker.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that would do very well,” said Cornelius, knitting his brow; “if + your father were alone, but there is that Master Jacob, who watches all + our ways.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that is true; but only think! you are depriving yourself, as I can + easily see, of a very great pleasure.” + </p> + <p> + She pronounced these words with a smile, which was not altogether without + a tinge of irony. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius reflected for a moment; he evidently was struggling against some + vehement desire. + </p> + <p> + “No!” he cried at last, with the stoicism of a Roman of old, “it would be + a weakness, it would be a folly, it would be a meanness! If I thus give up + the only and last resource which we possess to the uncertain chances of + the bad passions of anger and envy, I should never deserve to be forgiven. + No, Rosa, no; to-morrow we shall come to a conclusion as to the spot to be + chosen for your tulip; you will plant it according to my instructions; and + as to the third sucker,”—Cornelius here heaved a deep sigh,—“watch + over it as a miser over his first or last piece of gold; as the mother + over her child; as the wounded over the last drop of blood in his veins; + watch over it, Rosa! Some voice within me tells me that it will be our + saving, that it will be a source of good to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Be easy, Mynheer Cornelius,” said Rosa, with a sweet mixture of + melancholy and gravity, “be easy; your wishes are commands to me.” + </p> + <p> + “And even,” continued Van Baerle, warming more and more with his subject, + “if you should perceive that your steps are watched, and that your speech + has excited the suspicion of your father and of that detestable Master + Jacob,—well, Rosa, don’t hesitate for one moment to sacrifice me, + who am only still living through you,—me, who have no one in the + world but you; sacrifice me,—don’t come to see me any more.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa felt her heart sink within her, and her eyes were filling with tears. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” asked Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “I see one thing.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you see?” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said she, bursting out in sobs, “I see that you love your tulips + with such love as to have no more room in your heart left for other + affections.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, she fled. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, after this, passed one of the worst nights he ever had in his + life. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was vexed with him, and with good reason. Perhaps she would never + return to see the prisoner, and then he would have no more news, either of + Rosa or of his tulips. + </p> + <p> + We have to confess, to the disgrace of our hero and of floriculture, that + of his two affections he felt most strongly inclined to regret the loss of + Rosa; and when, at about three in the morning, he fell asleep overcome + with fatigue, and harassed with remorse, the grand black tulip yielded + precedence in his dreams to the sweet blue eyes of the fair maid of + Friesland. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 19. The Maid and the Flower + </h2> + <p> + But poor Rosa, in her secluded chamber, could not have known of whom or of + what Cornelius was dreaming. + </p> + <p> + From what he had said she was more ready to believe that he dreamed of the + black tulip than of her; and yet Rosa was mistaken. + </p> + <p> + But as there was no one to tell her so, and as the words of Cornelius’s + thoughtless speech had fallen upon her heart like drops of poison, she did + not dream, but she wept. + </p> + <p> + The fact was, that, as Rosa was a high-spirited creature, of no mean + perception and a noble heart, she took a very clear and judicious view of + her own social position, if not of her moral and physical qualities. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius was a scholar, and was wealthy,—at least he had been + before the confiscation of his property; Cornelius belonged to the + merchant-bourgeoisie, who were prouder of their richly emblazoned shop + signs than the hereditary nobility of their heraldic bearings. Therefore, + although he might find Rosa a pleasant companion for the dreary hours of + his captivity, when it came to a question of bestowing his heart it was + almost certain that he would bestow it upon a tulip,—that is to say, + upon the proudest and noblest of flowers, rather than upon poor Rosa, the + jailer’s lowly child. + </p> + <p> + Thus Rosa understood Cornelius’s preference of the tulip to herself, but + was only so much the more unhappy therefor. + </p> + <p> + During the whole of this terrible night the poor girl did not close an + eye, and before she rose in the morning she had come to the resolution of + making her appearance at the grated window no more. + </p> + <p> + But as she knew with what ardent desire Cornelius looked forward to the + news about his tulip; and as, notwithstanding her determination not to see + any more a man her pity for whose fate was fast growing into love, she did + not, on the other hand, wish to drive him to despair, she resolved to + continue by herself the reading and writing lessons; and, fortunately, she + had made sufficient progress to dispense with the help of a master when + the master was not to be Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + Rosa therefore applied herself most diligently to reading poor Cornelius + de Witt’s Bible, on the second fly leaf of which the last will of + Cornelius van Baerle was written. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” she muttered, when perusing again this document, which she never + finished without a tear, the pearl of love, rolling from her limpid eyes + on her pale cheeks—“alas! at that time I thought for one moment he + loved me.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Rosa! she was mistaken. Never had the love of the prisoner been more + sincere than at the time at which we are now arrived, when in the contest + between the black tulip and Rosa the tulip had had to yield to her the + first and foremost place in Cornelius’s heart. + </p> + <p> + But Rosa was not aware of it. + </p> + <p> + Having finished reading, she took her pen, and began with as laudable + diligence the by far more difficult task of writing. + </p> + <p> + As, however, Rosa was already able to write a legible hand when Cornelius + so uncautiously opened his heart, she did not despair of progressing + quickly enough to write, after eight days at the latest, to the prisoner + an account of his tulip. + </p> + <p> + She had not forgotten one word of the directions given to her by + Cornelius, whose speeches she treasured in her heart, even when they did + not take the shape of directions. + </p> + <p> + He, on his part, awoke deeper in love than ever. The tulip, indeed, was + still a luminous and prominent object in his mind; but he no longer looked + upon it as a treasure to which he ought to sacrifice everything, and even + Rosa, but as a marvellous combination of nature and art with which he + would have been happy to adorn the bosom of his beloved one. + </p> + <p> + Yet during the whole of that day he was haunted with a vague uneasiness, + at the bottom of which was the fear lest Rosa should not come in the + evening to pay him her usual visit. This thought took more and more hold + of him, until at the approach of evening his whole mind was absorbed in + it. + </p> + <p> + How his heart beat when darkness closed in! The words which he had said to + Rosa on the evening before and which had so deeply afflicted her, now came + back to his mind more vividly than ever, and he asked himself how he could + have told his gentle comforter to sacrifice him to his tulip,—that + is to say, to give up seeing him, if need be,—whereas to him the + sight of Rosa had become a condition of life. + </p> + <p> + In Cornelius’s cell one heard the chimes of the clock of the fortress. It + struck seven, it struck eight, it struck nine. Never did the metal voice + vibrate more forcibly through the heart of any man than did the last + stroke, marking the ninth hour, through the heart of Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + All was then silent again. Cornelius put his hand on his heart, to repress + as it were its violent palpitation, and listened. + </p> + <p> + The noise of her footstep, the rustling of her gown on the staircase, were + so familiar to his ear, that she had no sooner mounted one step than he + used to say to himself,— + </p> + <p> + “Here comes Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + This evening none of those little noises broke the silence of the lobby, + the clock struck nine, and a quarter; the half-hour, then a quarter to + ten, and at last its deep tone announced, not only to the inmates of the + fortress, but also to all the inhabitants of Loewestein, that it was ten. + </p> + <p> + This was the hour at which Rosa generally used to leave Cornelius. The + hour had struck, but Rosa had not come. + </p> + <p> + Thus then his foreboding had not deceived him; Rosa, being vexed, shut + herself up in her room and left him to himself. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” he thought, “I have deserved all this. She will come no more, and + she is right in staying away; in her place I should do just the same.” + </p> + <p> + Yet notwithstanding all this, Cornelius listened, waited, and hoped until + midnight, then he threw himself upon the bed, with his clothes on. + </p> + <p> + It was a long and sad night for him, and the day brought no hope to the + prisoner. + </p> + <p> + At eight in the morning, the door of his cell opened; but Cornelius did + not even turn his head; he had heard the heavy step of Gryphus in the + lobby, but this step had perfectly satisfied the prisoner that his jailer + was coming alone. + </p> + <p> + Thus Cornelius did not even look at Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + And yet he would have been so glad to draw him out, and to inquire about + Rosa. He even very nearly made this inquiry, strange as it would needs + have appeared to her father. To tell the truth, there was in all this some + selfish hope to hear from Gryphus that his daughter was ill. + </p> + <p> + Except on extraordinary occasions, Rosa never came during the day. + Cornelius therefore did not really expect her as long as the day lasted. + Yet his sudden starts, his listening at the door, his rapid glances at + every little noise towards the grated window, showed clearly that the + prisoner entertained some latent hope that Rosa would, somehow or other, + break her rule. + </p> + <p> + At the second visit of Gryphus, Cornelius, contrary to all his former + habits, asked the old jailer, with the most winning voice, about her + health; but Gryphus contented himself with giving the laconical answer,— + </p> + <p> + “All’s well.” + </p> + <p> + At the third visit of the day, Cornelius changed his former inquiry:— + </p> + <p> + “I hope nobody is ill at Loewestein?” + </p> + <p> + “Nobody,” replied, even more laconically, the jailer, shutting the door + before the nose of the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus, being little used to this sort of civility on the part of + Cornelius, began to suspect that his prisoner was about to try and bribe + him. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius was now alone once more; it was seven o’clock in the evening, + and the anxiety of yesterday returned with increased intensity. + </p> + <p> + But another time the hours passed away without bringing the sweet vision + which lighted up, through the grated window, the cell of poor Cornelius, + and which, in retiring, left light enough in his heart to last until it + came back again. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle passed the night in an agony of despair. On the following day + Gryphus appeared to him even more hideous, brutal, and hateful than usual; + in his mind, or rather in his heart, there had been some hope that it was + the old man who prevented his daughter from coming. + </p> + <p> + In his wrath he would have strangled Gryphus, but would not this have + separated him for ever from Rosa? + </p> + <p> + The evening closing in, his despair changed into melancholy, which was the + more gloomy as, involuntarily, Van Baerle mixed up with it the thought of + his poor tulip. It was now just that week in April which the most + experienced gardeners point out as the precise time when tulips ought to + be planted. He had said to Rosa,— + </p> + <p> + “I shall tell you the day when you are to put the bulb in the ground.” + </p> + <p> + He had intended to fix, at the vainly hoped for interview, the following + day as the time for that momentous operation. The weather was propitious; + the air, though still damp, began to be tempered by those pale rays of the + April sun which, being the first, appear so congenial, although so pale. + How if Rosa allowed the right moment for planting the bulb to pass by,—if, + in addition to the grief of seeing her no more, he should have to deplore + the misfortune of seeing his tulip fail on account of its having been + planted too late, or of its not having been planted at all! + </p> + <p> + These two vexations combined might well make him leave off eating and + drinking. + </p> + <p> + This was the case on the fourth day. + </p> + <p> + It was pitiful to see Cornelius, dumb with grief, and pale from utter + prostration, stretch out his head through the iron bars of his window, at + the risk of not being able to draw it back again, to try and get a glimpse + of the garden on the left spoken of by Rosa, who had told him that its + parapet overlooked the river. He hoped that perhaps he might see, in the + light of the April sun, Rosa or the tulip, the two lost objects of his + love. + </p> + <p> + In the evening, Gryphus took away the breakfast and dinner of Cornelius, + who had scarcely touched them. + </p> + <p> + On the following day he did not touch them at all, and Gryphus carried the + dishes away just as he had brought them. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius had remained in bed the whole day. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Gryphus, coming down from the last visit, “I think we shall + soon get rid of our scholar.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa was startled. + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” said Jacob. “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “He doesn’t drink, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t leave his bed. He will get + out of it, like Mynheer Grotius, in a chest, only the chest will be a + coffin.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa grew pale as death. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she said to herself, “he is uneasy about his tulip.” + </p> + <p> + And, rising with a heavy heart, she returned to her chamber, where she + took a pen and paper, and during the whole of that night busied herself + with tracing letters. + </p> + <p> + On the following morning, when Cornelius got up to drag himself to the + window, he perceived a paper which had been slipped under the door. + </p> + <p> + He pounced upon it, opened it, and read the following words, in a + handwriting which he could scarcely have recognized as that of Rosa, so + much had she improved during her short absence of seven days,— + </p> + <p> + “Be easy; your tulip is going on well.” + </p> + <p> + Although these few words of Rosa’s somewhat soothed the grief of + Cornelius, yet he felt not the less the irony which was at the bottom of + them. Rosa, then, was not ill, she was offended; she had not been forcibly + prevented from coming, but had voluntarily stayed away. Thus Rosa, being + at liberty, found in her own will the force not to come and see him, who + was dying with grief at not having seen her. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius had paper and a pencil which Rosa had brought to him. He guessed + that she expected an answer, but that she would not come before the + evening to fetch it. He therefore wrote on a piece of paper, similar to + that which he had received,— + </p> + <p> + “It was not my anxiety about the tulip that has made me ill, but the grief + at not seeing you.” + </p> + <p> + After Gryphus had made his last visit of the day, and darkness had set in, + he slipped the paper under the door, and listened with the most intense + attention, but he neither heard Rosa’s footsteps nor the rustling of her + gown. + </p> + <p> + He only heard a voice as feeble as a breath, and gentle like a caress, + which whispered through the grated little window in the door the word,— + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow!” + </p> + <p> + Now to-morrow was the eighth day. For eight days Cornelius and Rosa had + not seen each other. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 20. The Events which took place during those Eight Days + </h2> + <p> + On the following evening, at the usual hour, Van Baerle heard some one + scratch at the grated little window, just as Rosa had been in the habit of + doing in the heyday of their friendship. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius being, as may easily be imagined, not far off from the door, + perceived Rosa, who at last was waiting again for him with her lamp in her + hand. + </p> + <p> + Seeing him so sad and pale, she was startled, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “You are ill, Mynheer Cornelius?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am,” he answered, as indeed he was suffering in mind and in body. + </p> + <p> + “I saw that you did not eat,” said Rosa; “my father told me that you + remained in bed all day. I then wrote to calm your uneasiness concerning + the fate of the most precious object of your anxiety.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” said Cornelius, “I have answered. Seeing your return, my dear + Rosa, I thought you had received my letter.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true; I have received it.” + </p> + <p> + “You cannot this time excuse yourself with not being able to read. Not + only do you read very fluently, but also you have made marvellous progress + in writing.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I have not only received, but also read your note. Accordingly I + am come to see whether there might not be some remedy to restore you to + health.” + </p> + <p> + “Restore me to health?” cried Cornelius; “but have you any good news to + communicate to me?” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, the poor prisoner looked at Rosa, his eyes sparkling with + hope. + </p> + <p> + Whether she did not, or would not, understand this look, Rosa answered + gravely,— + </p> + <p> + “I have only to speak to you about your tulip, which, as I well know, is + the object uppermost in your mind.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa pronounced those few words in a freezing tone, which cut deeply into + the heart of Cornelius. He did not suspect what lay hidden under this + appearance of indifference with which the poor girl affected to speak of + her rival, the black tulip. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” muttered Cornelius, “again! again! Have I not told you, Rosa, that I + thought but of you? that it was you alone whom I regretted, you whom I + missed, you whose absence I felt more than the loss of liberty and of life + itself?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa smiled with a melancholy air. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” she said, “your tulip has been in such danger.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and showed himself clearly to be caught + in the trap, if ever the remark was meant as such. + </p> + <p> + “Danger!” he cried, quite alarmed; “what danger?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa looked at him with gentle compassion; she felt that what she wished + was beyond the power of this man, and that he must be taken as he was, + with his little foible. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “you have guessed the truth; that suitor and amorous + swain, Jacob, did not come on my account.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did he come for?” Cornelius anxiously asked. + </p> + <p> + “He came for the sake of the tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said Cornelius, growing even paler at this piece of information + than he had been when Rosa, a fortnight before, had told him that Jacob + was coming for her sake. + </p> + <p> + Rosa saw this alarm, and Cornelius guessed, from the expression of her + face, in what direction her thoughts were running. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, pardon me, Rosa!” he said, “I know you, and I am well aware of the + kindness and sincerity of your heart. To you God has given the thought and + strength for defending yourself; but to my poor tulip, when it is in + danger, God has given nothing of the sort.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa, without replying to this excuse of the prisoner, continued,— + </p> + <p> + “From the moment when I first knew that you were uneasy on account of the + man who followed me, and in whom I had recognized Jacob, I was even more + uneasy myself. On the day, therefore, after that on which I saw you last, + and on which you said—” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius interrupted her. + </p> + <p> + “Once more, pardon me, Rosa!” he cried. “I was wrong in saying to you what + I said. I have asked your pardon for that unfortunate speech before. I ask + it again: shall I always ask it in vain?” + </p> + <p> + “On the following day,” Rosa continued, “remembering what you had told me + about the stratagem which I was to employ to ascertain whether that odious + man was after the tulip, or after me——” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, odious. Tell me,” he said, “do you hate that man?” + </p> + <p> + “I do hate him,” said Rosa, “as he is the cause of all the unhappiness I + have suffered these eight days.” + </p> + <p> + “You, too, have been unhappy, Rosa? I thank you a thousand times for this + kind confession.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, on the day after that unfortunate one, I went down into the garden + and proceeded towards the border where I was to plant your tulip, looking + round all the while to see whether I was again followed as I was last + time.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” Cornelius asked. + </p> + <p> + “And then the same shadow glided between the gate and the wall, and once + more disappeared behind the elder-trees.” + </p> + <p> + “You feigned not to see him, didn’t you?” Cornelius asked, remembering all + the details of the advice which he had given to Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and I stooped over the border, in which I dug with a spade, as if I + was going to put the bulb in.” + </p> + <p> + “And he,—what did he do during all this time?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw his eyes glisten through the branches of the tree like those of a + tiger.” + </p> + <p> + “There you see, there you see!” cried Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Then, after having finished my make-believe work, I retired.” + </p> + <p> + “But only behind the garden door, I dare say, so that you might see + through the keyhole what he was going to do when you had left?” + </p> + <p> + “He waited for a moment, very likely to make sure of my not coming back, + after which he sneaked forth from his hiding-place, and approached the + border by a long round-about; at last, having reached his goal, that is to + say, the spot where the ground was newly turned, he stopped with a + careless air, looking about in all directions, and scanning every corner + of the garden, every window of the neighbouring houses, and even the sky; + after which, thinking himself quite alone, quite isolated, and out of + everybody’s sight, he pounced upon the border, plunged both his hands into + the soft soil, took a handful of the mould, which he gently frittered + between his fingers to see whether the bulb was in it, and repeated the + same thing twice or three times, until at last he perceived that he was + outwitted. Then, keeping down the agitation which was raging in his + breast, he took up the rake, smoothed the ground, so as to leave it on his + retiring in the same state as he had found it, and, quite abashed and + rueful, walked back to the door, affecting the unconcerned air of an + ordinary visitor of the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the wretch!” muttered Cornelius, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. + “Oh, the wretch! I guessed his intentions. But the bulb, Rosa; what have + you done with it? It is already rather late to plant it.” + </p> + <p> + “The bulb? It has been in the ground for these six days.” + </p> + <p> + “Where? and how?” cried Cornelius. “Good Heaven, what imprudence! What is + it? In what sort of soil is it? In what aspect? Good or bad? Is there no + risk of having it filched by that detestable Jacob?” + </p> + <p> + “There is no danger of its being stolen,” said Rosa, “unless Jacob will + force the door of my chamber.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! then it is with you in your bedroom?” said Cornelius, somewhat + relieved. “But in what soil? in what vessel? You don’t let it grow, I + hope, in water like those good ladies of Haarlem and Dort, who imagine + that water could replace the earth?” + </p> + <p> + “You may make yourself comfortable on that score,” said Rosa, smiling; + “your bulb is not growing in water.” + </p> + <p> + “I breathe again.” + </p> + <p> + “It is in a good, sound stone pot, just about the size of the jug in which + you had planted yours. The soil is composed of three parts of common + mould, taken from the best spot of the garden, and one of the sweepings of + the road. I have heard you and that detestable Jacob, as you call him, so + often talk about what is the soil best fitted for growing tulips, that I + know it as well as the first gardener of Haarlem.” + </p> + <p> + “And now what is the aspect, Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + “At present it has the sun all day long,—that is to say when the sun + shines. But when it once peeps out of the ground, I shall do as you have + done here, dear Mynheer Cornelius: I shall put it out of my window on the + eastern side from eight in the morning until eleven and in my window + towards the west from three to five in the afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it! that’s it!” cried Cornelius; “and you are a perfect gardener, + my pretty Rosa. But I am afraid the nursing of my tulip will take up all + your time.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it will,” said Rosa; “but never mind. Your tulip is my daughter. I + shall devote to it the same time as I should to a child of mine, if I were + a mother. Only by becoming its mother,” Rosa added, smilingly, “can I + cease to be its rival.” + </p> + <p> + “My kind and pretty Rosa!” muttered Cornelius casting on her a glance in + which there was much more of the lover than of the gardener, and which + afforded Rosa some consolation. + </p> + <p> + Then, after a silence of some moments, during which Cornelius had grasped + through the openings of the grating for the receding hand of Rosa, he + said,— + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that the bulb has now been in the ground for six + days?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, six days, Mynheer Cornelius,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “And it does not yet show leaf?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but I think it will to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, to-morrow you will bring me news about it, and about + yourself, won’t you, Rosa? I care very much for the daughter, as you + called it just now, but I care even much more for the mother.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow?” said Rosa, looking at Cornelius askance. “I don’t know + whether I shall be able to come to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” said Cornelius, “why can’t you come to-morrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Mynheer Cornelius, I have lots of things to do.” + </p> + <p> + “And I have only one,” muttered Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Rosa, “to love your tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “To love you, Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa shook her head, after which followed a pause. + </p> + <p> + “Well,”—Cornelius at last broke the silence,—“well, Rosa, + everything changes in the realm of nature; the flowers of spring are + succeeded by other flowers; and the bees, which so tenderly caressed the + violets and the wall-flowers, will flutter with just as much love about + the honey-suckles, the rose, the jessamine, and the carnation.” + </p> + <p> + “What does all this mean?” asked Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “You have abandoned me, Miss Rosa, to seek your pleasure elsewhere. You + have done well, and I will not complain. What claim have I to your + fidelity?” + </p> + <p> + “My fidelity!” Rosa exclaimed, with her eyes full of tears, and without + caring any longer to hide from Cornelius this dew of pearls dropping on + her cheeks, “my fidelity! have I not been faithful to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you call it faithful to desert me, and to leave me here to die?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Mynheer Cornelius,” said Rosa, “am I not doing everything for you + that could give you pleasure? have I not devoted myself to your tulip?” + </p> + <p> + “You are bitter, Rosa, you reproach me with the only unalloyed pleasure + which I have had in this world.” + </p> + <p> + “I reproach you with nothing, Mynheer Cornelius, except, perhaps, with the + intense grief which I felt when people came to tell me at the Buytenhof + that you were about to be put to death.” + </p> + <p> + “You are displeased, Rosa, my sweet girl, with my loving flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not displeased with your loving them, Mynheer Cornelius, only it + makes me sad to think that you love them better than you do me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my dear, dear Rosa! look how my hands tremble; look at my pale cheek, + hear how my heart beats. It is for you, my love, not for the black tulip. + Destroy the bulb, destroy the germ of that flower, extinguish the gentle + light of that innocent and delightful dream, to which I have accustomed + myself; but love me, Rosa, love me; for I feel deeply that I love but + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, after the black tulip,” sighed Rosa, who at last no longer coyly + withdrew her warm hands from the grating, as Cornelius most affectionately + kissed them. + </p> + <p> + “Above and before everything in this world, Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + “May I believe you?” + </p> + <p> + “As you believe in your own existence.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, be it so; but loving me does not bind you too much.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunately, it does not bind me more than I am bound; but it binds + you, Rosa, you.” + </p> + <p> + “To what?” + </p> + <p> + “First of all, not to marry.” + </p> + <p> + She smiled. + </p> + <p> + “That’s your way,” she said; “you are tyrants all of you. You worship a + certain beauty, you think of nothing but her. Then you are condemned to + death, and whilst walking to the scaffold, you devote to her your last + sigh; and now you expect poor me to sacrifice to you all my dreams and my + happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “But who is the beauty you are talking of, Rosa?” said Cornelius, trying + in vain to remember a woman to whom Rosa might possibly be alluding. + </p> + <p> + “The dark beauty with a slender waist, small feet, and a noble head; in + short, I am speaking of your flower.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius smiled. + </p> + <p> + “That is an imaginary lady love, at all events; whereas, without counting + that amorous Jacob, you by your own account are surrounded with all sorts + of swains eager to make love to you. Do you remember Rosa, what you told + me of the students, officers, and clerks of the Hague? Are there no + clerks, officers, or students at Loewestein?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed there are, and lots of them.” + </p> + <p> + “Who write letters?” + </p> + <p> + “They do write.” + </p> + <p> + “And now, as you know how to read——” + </p> + <p> + Here Cornelius heaved a sigh at the thought, that, poor captive as he was, + to him alone Rosa owed the faculty of reading the love-letters which she + received. + </p> + <p> + “As to that,” said Rosa, “I think that in reading the notes addressed to + me, and passing the different swains in review who send them to me, I am + only following your instructions.” + </p> + <p> + “How so? My instructions?” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, your instructions, sir,” said Rosa, sighing in her turn; “have + you forgotten the will written by your hand on the Bible of Cornelius de + Witt? I have not forgotten it; for now, as I know how to read, I read it + every day over and over again. In that will you bid me to love and marry a + handsome young man of twenty-six or eight years. I am on the look-out for + that young man, and as the whole of my day is taken up with your tulip, + you must needs leave me the evenings to find him.” + </p> + <p> + “But, Rosa, the will was made in the expectation of death, and, thanks to + Heaven, I am still alive.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I shall not be after the handsome young man, and I shall come + to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “That’s it, Rosa, come! come!” + </p> + <p> + “Under one condition.” + </p> + <p> + “Granted beforehand!” + </p> + <p> + “That the black tulip shall not be mentioned for the next three days.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall never be mentioned any more, if you wish it, Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” the damsel said, laughing, “I will not ask for impossibilities.” + </p> + <p> + And, saying this, she brought her fresh cheek, as if unconsciously, so + near the iron grating, that Cornelius was able to touch it with his lips. + </p> + <p> + Rosa uttered a little scream, which, however, was full of love, and + disappeared. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 21. The Second Bulb + </h2> + <p> + The night was a happy one, and the whole of the next day happier still. + </p> + <p> + During the last few days, the prison had been heavy, dark, and lowering, + as it were, with all its weight on the unfortunate captive. Its walls were + black, its air chilling, the iron bars seemed to exclude every ray of + light. + </p> + <p> + But when Cornelius awoke next morning, a beam of the morning sun was + playing about those iron bars; pigeons were hovering about with outspread + wings, whilst others were lovingly cooing on the roof or near the still + closed window. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius ran to that window and opened it; it seemed to him as if new + life, and joy, and liberty itself were entering with this sunbeam into his + cell, which, so dreary of late, was now cheered and irradiated by the + light of love. + </p> + <p> + When Gryphus, therefore, came to see his prisoner in the morning, he no + longer found him morose and lying in bed, but standing at the window, and + singing a little ditty. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa!” exclaimed the jailer. + </p> + <p> + “How are you this morning?” asked Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus looked at him with a scowl. + </p> + <p> + “And how is the dog, and Master Jacob, and our pretty Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus ground his teeth, saying— + </p> + <p> + “Here is your breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, friend Cerberus,” said the prisoner; “you are just in time; I + am very hungry.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you are hungry, are you?” said Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” asked Van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + “The conspiracy seems to thrive,” remarked Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “What conspiracy?” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, I know what I know, Master Scholar; just be quiet, we shall be + on our guard.” + </p> + <p> + “Be on your guard, friend Gryphus; be on your guard as long as you please; + my conspiracy, as well as my person, is entirely at your service.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll see that at noon.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, Gryphus went out. + </p> + <p> + “At noon?” repeated Cornelius; “what does that mean? Well, let us wait + until the clock strikes twelve, and we shall see.” + </p> + <p> + It was very easy for Cornelius to wait for twelve at midday, as he was + already waiting for nine at night. + </p> + <p> + It struck twelve, and there were heard on the staircase not only the steps + of Gryphus, but also those of three or four soldiers, who were coming up + with him. + </p> + <p> + The door opened. Gryphus entered, led his men in, and shut the door after + them. + </p> + <p> + “There, now search!” + </p> + <p> + They searched not only the pockets of Cornelius, but even his person; yet + they found nothing. + </p> + <p> + They then searched the sheets, the mattress, and the straw mattress of his + bed; and again they found nothing. + </p> + <p> + Now, Cornelius rejoiced that he had not taken the third sucker under his + own care. Gryphus would have been sure to ferret it out in the search, and + would then have treated it as he did the first. + </p> + <p> + And certainly never did prisoner look with greater complacency at a search + made in his cell than Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus retired with the pencil and the two or three leaves of white paper + which Rosa had given to Van Baerle, this was the only trophy brought back + from the expedition. + </p> + <p> + At six Gryphus came back again, but alone; Cornelius tried to propitiate + him, but Gryphus growled, showed a large tooth like a tusk, which he had + in the corner of his mouth, and went out backwards, like a man who is + afraid of being attacked from behind. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius burst out laughing, to which Gryphus answered through the + grating,— + </p> + <p> + “Let him laugh that wins.” + </p> + <p> + The winner that day was Cornelius; Rosa came at nine. + </p> + <p> + She was without a lantern. She needed no longer a light, as she could now + read. Moreover, the light might betray her, as Jacob was dogging her steps + more than ever. And lastly, the light would have shown her blushes. + </p> + <p> + Of what did the young people speak that evening? Of those matters of which + lovers speak at the house doors in France, or from a balcony into the + street in Spain, or down from a terrace into a garden in the East. + </p> + <p> + They spoke of those things which give wings to the hours; they spoke of + everything except the black tulip. + </p> + <p> + At last, when the clock struck ten, they parted as usual. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius was happy, as thoroughly happy as a tulip-fancier would be to + whom one has not spoken of his tulip. + </p> + <p> + He found Rosa pretty, good, graceful, and charming. + </p> + <p> + But why did Rosa object to the tulip being spoken of? + </p> + <p> + This was indeed a great defect in Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius confessed to himself, sighing, that woman was not perfect. + </p> + <p> + Part of the night he thought of this imperfection; that is to say, so long + as he was awake he thought of Rosa. + </p> + <p> + After having fallen asleep, he dreamed of her. + </p> + <p> + But the Rosa of his dreams was by far more perfect than the Rosa of real + life. Not only did the Rosa of his dreams speak of the tulip, but also + brought to him a black one in a china vase. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius then awoke, trembling with joy, and muttering,— + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, Rosa, I love you.” + </p> + <p> + And as it was already day, he thought it right not to fall asleep again, + and he continued following up the line of thought in which his mind was + engaged when he awoke. + </p> + <p> + Ah! if Rosa had only conversed about the tulip, Cornelius would have + preferred her to Queen Semiramis, to Queen Cleopatra, to Queen Elizabeth, + to Queen Anne of Austria; that is to say, to the greatest or most + beautiful queens whom the world has seen. + </p> + <p> + But Rosa had forbidden it under pain of not returning; Rosa had forbidden + the least mention of the tulip for three days. That meant seventy-two + hours given to the lover to be sure; but it was seventy-two hours stolen + from the horticulturist. + </p> + <p> + There was one consolation: of the seventy-two hours during which Rosa + would not allow the tulip to be mentioned, thirty-six had passed already; + and the remaining thirty-six would pass quickly enough: eighteen with + waiting for the evening’s interview, and eighteen with rejoicing in its + remembrance. + </p> + <p> + Rosa came at the same hour, and Cornelius submitted most heroically to the + pangs which the compulsory silence concerning the tulip gave him. + </p> + <p> + His fair visitor, however, was well aware that, to command on the one + point, people must yield on another; she therefore no longer drew back her + hands from the grating, and even allowed Cornelius tenderly to kiss her + beautiful golden tresses. + </p> + <p> + Poor girl! she had no idea that these playful little lovers’ tricks were + much more dangerous than speaking of the tulip was; but she became aware + of the fact as she returned with a beating heart, with glowing cheeks, dry + lips, and moist eyes. + </p> + <p> + And on the following evening, after the first exchange of salutations, she + retired a step, looking at him with a glance, the expression of which + would have rejoiced his heart could he but have seen it. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” she said, “she is up.” + </p> + <p> + “She is up! Who? What?” asked Cornelius, who did not venture on a belief + that Rosa would, of her own accord, have abridged the term of his + probation. + </p> + <p> + “She? Well, my daughter, the tulip,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Cornelius, “you give me permission, then?” + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said Rosa, with the tone of an affectionate mother who grants a + pleasure to her child. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Rosa!” said Cornelius, putting his lips to the grating with the hope + of touching a cheek, a hand, a forehead,—anything, in short. + </p> + <p> + He touched something much better,—two warm and half open lips. + </p> + <p> + Rosa uttered a slight scream. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius understood that he must make haste to continue the conversation. + He guessed that this unexpected kiss had frightened Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Is it growing up straight?” + </p> + <p> + “Straight as a rocket,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “How high?” + </p> + <p> + “At least two inches.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa, take good care of it, and we shall soon see it grow quickly.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I take more care of it?” said she. “Indeed, I think of nothing else + but the tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “Of nothing else, Rosa? Why, now I shall grow jealous in my turn.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you know that to think of the tulip is to think of you; I never lose + sight of it. I see it from my bed, on awaking it is the first object that + meets my eyes, and on falling asleep the last on which they rest. During + the day I sit and work by its side, for I have never left my chamber since + I put it there.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right Rosa, it is your dowry, you know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and with it I may marry a young man of twenty-six or twenty-eight + years, whom I shall be in love with.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t talk in that way, you naughty girl.” + </p> + <p> + That evening Cornelius was one of the happiest of men. Rosa allowed him to + press her hand in his, and to keep it as long as he would, besides which + he might talk of his tulip as much as he liked. + </p> + <p> + From that hour every day marked some progress in the growth of the tulip + and in the affection of the two young people. + </p> + <p> + At one time it was that the leaves had expanded, and at another that the + flower itself had formed. + </p> + <p> + Great was the joy of Cornelius at this news, and his questions succeeded + one another with a rapidity which gave proof of their importance. + </p> + <p> + “Formed!” exclaimed Cornelius, “is it really formed?” + </p> + <p> + “It is,” repeated Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius trembled with joy, so much so that he was obliged to hold by the + grating. + </p> + <p> + “Good heavens!” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Then, turning again to Rosa, he continued his questions. + </p> + <p> + “Is the oval regular? the cylinder full? and are the points very green?” + </p> + <p> + “The oval is almost one inch long, and tapers like a needle, the cylinder + swells at the sides, and the points are ready to open.” + </p> + <p> + Two days after Rosa announced that they were open. + </p> + <p> + “Open, Rosa!” cried Cornelius. “Is the involucrum open? but then one may + see and already distinguish——” + </p> + <p> + Here the prisoner paused, anxiously taking breath. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” answered Rosa, “one may already distinguish a thread of different + colour, as thin as a hair.” + </p> + <p> + “And its colour?” asked Cornelius, trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” answered Rosa, “it is very dark!” + </p> + <p> + “Brown?” + </p> + <p> + “Darker than that.” + </p> + <p> + “Darker, my good Rosa, darker? Thank you. Dark as——” + </p> + <p> + “Dark as the ink with which I wrote to you.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius uttered a cry of mad joy. + </p> + <p> + Then, suddenly stopping and clasping his hands, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, there is not an angel in heaven that may be compared to you, Rosa!” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” said Rosa, smiling at his enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, you have worked with such ardour,—you have done so much for + me! Rosa, my tulip is about to flower, and it will flower black! Rosa, + Rosa, you are the most perfect being on earth!” + </p> + <p> + “After the tulip, though.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! be quiet, you malicious little creature, be quiet! For shame! Do not + spoil my pleasure. But tell me, Rosa,—as the tulip is so far + advanced, it will flower in two or three days, at the latest?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, or the day after.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! and I shall not see it,” cried Cornelius, starting back, “I shall not + kiss it, as a wonderful work of the Almighty, as I kiss your hand and your + cheek, Rosa, when by chance they are near the grating.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa drew near, not by accident, but intentionally, and Cornelius kissed + her tenderly. + </p> + <p> + “Faith, I shall cull it, if you wish it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, no, Rosa! when it is open, place it carefully in the shade, and + immediately send a message to Haarlem, to the President of the + Horticultural Society, that the grand black tulip is in flower. I know + well it is far to Haarlem, but with money you will find a messenger. Have + you any money, Rosa?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa smiled. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Enough?” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “I have three hundred guilders.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, if you have three hundred guilders, you must not send a messenger, + Rosa, but you must go to Haarlem yourself.” + </p> + <p> + “But what in the meantime is to become of the flower?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the flower! you must take it with you. You understand that you must + not separate from it for an instant.” + </p> + <p> + “But whilst I am not separating from it, I am separating from you, Mynheer + Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that’s true, my sweet Rosa. Oh, my God! how wicked men are! What have + I done to offend them, and why have they deprived me of my liberty? You + are right, Rosa, I cannot live without you. Well, you will send some one + to Haarlem,—that’s settled; really, the matter is wonderful enough + for the President to put himself to some trouble. He will come himself to + Loewestein to see the tulip.” + </p> + <p> + Then, suddenly checking himself, he said, with a faltering voice,— + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, Rosa, if after all it should not flower black!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, surely, surely, you will know to-morrow, or the day after.” + </p> + <p> + “And to wait until evening to know it, Rosa! I shall die with impatience. + Could we not agree about a signal?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall do better than that.” + </p> + <p> + “What will you do?” + </p> + <p> + “If it opens at night, I shall come and tell you myself. If it is day, I + shall pass your door, and slip you a note either under the door, or + through the grating, during the time between my father’s first and second + inspection.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Rosa, let it be so. One word of yours, announcing this news to me, + will be a double happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “There, ten o’clock strikes,” said Rosa, “I must now leave you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes,” said Cornelius, “go, Rosa, go!” + </p> + <p> + Rosa withdrew, almost melancholy, for Cornelius had all but sent her away. + </p> + <p> + It is true that he did so in order that she might watch over his black + tulip. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 22. The Opening of the Flower + </h2> + <p> + The night passed away very sweetly for Cornelius, although in great + agitation. Every instant he fancied he heard the gentle voice of Rosa + calling him. He then started up, went to the door, and looked through the + grating, but no one was behind it, and the lobby was empty. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, no doubt, would be watching too, but, happier than he, she watched + over the tulip; she had before her eyes that noble flower, that wonder of + wonders, which not only was unknown, but was not even thought possible + until then. + </p> + <p> + What would the world say when it heard that the black tulip was found, + that it existed and that it was the prisoner Van Baerle who had found it? + </p> + <p> + How Cornelius would have spurned the offer of his liberty in exchange for + his tulip! + </p> + <p> + Day came, without any news; the tulip was not yet in flower. + </p> + <p> + The day passed as the night. Night came, and with it Rosa, joyous and + cheerful as a bird. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” asked Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Well, all is going on prosperously. This night, without any doubt, our + tulip will be in flower.” + </p> + <p> + “And will it flower black?” + </p> + <p> + “Black as jet.” + </p> + <p> + “Without a speck of any other colour.” + </p> + <p> + “Without one speck.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens! my dear Rosa, I have been dreaming all night, in the first + place of you,” (Rosa made a sign of incredulity,) “and then of what we + must do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and I will tell you now what I have decided on. The tulip once + being in flower, and it being quite certain that it is perfectly black, + you must find a messenger.” + </p> + <p> + “If it is no more than that, I have a messenger quite ready.” + </p> + <p> + “Is he safe?” + </p> + <p> + “One for whom I will answer,—he is one of my lovers.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope not Jacob.” + </p> + <p> + “No, be quiet, it is the ferryman of Loewestein, a smart young man of + twenty-five.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jove!” + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet,” said Rosa, smiling, “he is still under age, as you have + yourself fixed it from twenty-six to twenty-eight.” + </p> + <p> + “In fine, do you think you may rely on this young man?” + </p> + <p> + “As on myself; he would throw himself into the Waal or the Meuse if I bade + him.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Rosa, this lad may be at Haarlem in ten hours; you will give me + paper and pencil, and, perhaps better still, pen and ink, and I will + write, or rather, on second thoughts, you will, for if I did, being a poor + prisoner, people might, like your father, see a conspiracy in it. You will + write to the President of the Horticultural Society, and I am sure he will + come.” + </p> + <p> + “But if he tarries?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let us suppose that he tarries one day, or even two; but it is + impossible. A tulip-fancier like him will not tarry one hour, not one + minute, not one second, to set out to see the eighth wonder of the world. + But, as I said, if he tarried one or even two days, the tulip will still + be in its full splendour. The flower once being seen by the President, and + the protocol being drawn up, all is in order; you will only keep a + duplicate of the protocol, and intrust the tulip to him. Ah! if we had + been able to carry it ourselves, Rosa, it would never have left my hands + but to pass into yours; but this is a dream, which we must not entertain,” + continued Cornelius with a sigh, “the eyes of strangers will see it flower + to the last. And above all, Rosa, before the President has seen it, let it + not be seen by any one. Alas! if any one saw the black tulip, it would be + stolen.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” + </p> + <p> + “Did you not tell me yourself of what you apprehended from your lover + Jacob? People will steal one guilder, why not a hundred thousand?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall watch; be quiet.” + </p> + <p> + “But if it opened whilst you were here?” + </p> + <p> + “The whimsical little thing would indeed be quite capable of playing such + a trick,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “And if on your return you find it open?” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa, whenever it opens, remember that not a moment must be lost in + apprising the President.” + </p> + <p> + “And in apprising you. Yes, I understand.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa sighed, yet without any bitter feeling, but rather like a woman who + begins to understand a foible, and to accustom herself to it. + </p> + <p> + “I return to your tulip, Mynheer van Baerle, and as soon as it opens I + will give you news, which being done the messenger will set out + immediately.” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, Rosa, I don’t know to what wonder under the sun I shall compare + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Compare me to the black tulip, and I promise you I shall feel very much + flattered. Good night, then, till we meet again, Mynheer Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, say ‘Good night, my friend.’” + </p> + <p> + “Good night, my friend,” said Rosa, a little consoled. + </p> + <p> + “Say, ‘My very dear friend.’” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my friend—” + </p> + <p> + “Very dear friend, I entreat you, say ‘very dear,’ Rosa, very dear.” + </p> + <p> + “Very dear, yes, very dear,” said Rosa, with a beating heart, beyond + herself with happiness. + </p> + <p> + “And now that you have said ‘very dear,’ dear Rosa, say also ‘most happy’: + say ‘happier and more blessed than ever man was under the sun.’ I only + lack one thing, Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + “And that is?” + </p> + <p> + “Your cheek,—your fresh cheek, your soft, rosy cheek. Oh, Rosa, give + it me of your own free will, and not by chance. Ah!” + </p> + <p> + The prisoner’s prayer ended in a sigh of ecstasy; his lips met those of + the maiden,—not by chance, nor by stratagem, but as Saint-Preux’s + was to meet the lips of Julie a hundred years later. + </p> + <p> + Rosa made her escape. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius stood with his heart upon his lips, and his face glued to the + wicket in the door. + </p> + <p> + He was fairly choking with happiness and joy. He opened his window, and + gazed long, with swelling heart, at the cloudless vault of heaven, and the + moon, which shone like silver upon the two-fold stream flowing from far + beyond the hills. He filled his lungs with the pure, sweet air, while his + brain dwelt upon thoughts of happiness, and his heart overflowed with + gratitude and religious fervour. + </p> + <p> + “Oh Thou art always watching from on high, my God,” he cried, half + prostrate, his glowing eyes fixed upon the stars: “forgive me that I + almost doubted Thy existence during these latter days, for Thou didst hide + Thy face behind the clouds, and wert for a moment lost to my sight, O Thou + merciful God, Thou pitying Father everlasting! But to-day, this evening, + and to-night, again I see Thee in all Thy wondrous glory in the mirror of + Thy heavenly abode, and more clearly still in the mirror of my grateful + heart.” + </p> + <p> + He was well again, the poor invalid; the wretched captive was free once + more. + </p> + <p> + During part of the night Cornelius, with his heart full of joy and + delight, remained at his window, gazing at the stars, and listening for + every sound. + </p> + <p> + Then casting a glance from time to time towards the lobby,— + </p> + <p> + “Down there,” he said, “is Rosa, watching like myself, and waiting from + minute to minute; down there, under Rosa’s eyes, is the mysterious flower, + which lives, which expands, which opens, perhaps Rosa holds in this moment + the stem of the tulip between her delicate fingers. Touch it gently, Rosa. + Perhaps she touches with her lips its expanding chalice. Touch it + cautiously, Rosa, your lips are burning. Yes, perhaps at this moment the + two objects of my dearest love caress each other under the eye of Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment, a star blazed in the southern sky, and shot through the + whole horizon, falling down, as it were, on the fortress of Loewestein. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius felt a thrill run through his frame. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he said, “here is Heaven sending a soul to my flower.” + </p> + <p> + And as if he had guessed correctly, nearly at that very moment the + prisoner heard in the lobby a step light as that of a sylph, and the + rustling of a gown, and a well-known voice, which said to him,— + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius, my friend, my very dear friend, and very happy friend, come, + come quickly.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius darted with one spring from the window to the door, his lips met + those of Rosa, who told him, with a kiss,— + </p> + <p> + “It is open, it is black, here it is.” + </p> + <p> + “How! here it is?” exclaimed Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, we ought indeed to run some little risk to give a great joy; + here it is, take it.” + </p> + <p> + And with one hand she raised to the level of the grating a dark lantern, + which she had lit in the meanwhile, whilst with the other she held to the + same height the miraculous tulip. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius uttered a cry, and was nearly fainting. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” muttered he, “my God, my God, Thou dost reward me for my innocence + and my captivity, as Thou hast allowed two such flowers to grow at the + grated window of my prison!” + </p> + <p> + The tulip was beautiful, splendid, magnificent; its stem was more than + eighteen inches high; it rose from out of four green leaves, which were as + smooth and straight as iron lance-heads; the whole of the flower was as + black and shining as jet. + </p> + <p> + “Rosa,” said Cornelius, almost gasping, “Rosa, there is not one moment to + lose in writing the letter.” + </p> + <p> + “It is written, my dearest Cornelius,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Is it, indeed?” + </p> + <p> + “Whilst the tulip opened I wrote it myself, for I did not wish to lose a + moment. Here is the letter, and tell me whether you approve of it.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius took the letter, and read, in a handwriting which was much + improved even since the last little note he had received from Rosa, as + follows:— + </p> + <p> + “Mynheer President,—The black tulip is about to open, perhaps in ten + minutes. As soon as it is open, I shall send a messenger to you, with the + request that you will come and fetch it in person from the fortress at + Loewestein. I am the daughter of the jailer, Gryphus, almost as much of a + captive as the prisoners of my father. I cannot, therefore, bring to you + this wonderful flower. This is the reason why I beg you to come and fetch + it yourself. + </p> + <p> + “It is my wish that it should be called Rosa Barlœnsis. + </p> + <p> + “It has opened; it is perfectly black; come, Mynheer President, come. + </p> + <p> + “I have the honour to be your humble servant, + </p> + <p> + “Rosa Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “That’s it, dear Rosa, that’s it. Your letter is admirable! I could not + have written it with such beautiful simplicity. You will give to the + committee all the information that will be required of you. They will then + know how the tulip has been grown, how much care and anxiety, and how many + sleepless nights, it has cost. But for the present not a minute must be + lost. The messenger! the messenger!” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the name of the President?” + </p> + <p> + “Give me the letter, I will direct it. Oh, he is very well known: it is + Mynheer van Systens, the burgomaster of Haarlem; give it to me, Rosa, give + it to me.” + </p> + <p> + And with a trembling hand Cornelius wrote the address,— + </p> + <p> + “To Mynheer Peter van Systens, Burgomaster, and President of the + Horticultural Society of Haarlem.” + </p> + <p> + “And now, Rosa, go, go,” said Cornelius, “and let us implore the + protection of God, who has so kindly watched over us until now.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 23. The Rival + </h2> + <p> + And in fact the poor young people were in great need of protection. + </p> + <p> + They had never been so near the destruction of their hopes as at this + moment, when they thought themselves certain of their fulfilment. + </p> + <p> + The reader cannot but have recognized in Jacob our old friend, or rather + enemy, Isaac Boxtel, and has guessed, no doubt, that this worthy had + followed from the Buytenhof to Loewestein the object of his love and the + object of his hatred,—the black tulip and Cornelius van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + What no one but a tulip-fancier, and an envious tulip-fancier, could have + discovered,—the existence of the bulbs and the endeavours of the + prisoner,—jealousy had enabled Boxtel, if not to discover, at least + to guess. + </p> + <p> + We have seen him, more successful under the name of Jacob than under that + of Isaac, gain the friendship of Gryphus, which for several months he + cultivated by means of the best Genièvre ever distilled from the Texel to + Antwerp, and he lulled the suspicion of the jealous turnkey by holding out + to him the flattering prospect of his designing to marry Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Besides thus offering a bait to the ambition of the father, he managed, at + the same time, to interest his zeal as a jailer, picturing to him in the + blackest colours the learned prisoner whom Gryphus had in his keeping, and + who, as the sham Jacob had it, was in league with Satan, to the detriment + of his Highness the Prince of Orange. + </p> + <p> + At first he had also made some way with Rosa; not, indeed, in her + affections, but inasmuch as, by talking to her of marriage and of love, he + had evaded all the suspicions which he might otherwise have excited. + </p> + <p> + We have seen how his imprudence in following Rosa into the garden had + unmasked him in the eyes of the young damsel, and how the instinctive + fears of Cornelius had put the two lovers on their guard against him. + </p> + <p> + The reader will remember that the first cause of uneasiness was given to + the prisoner by the rage of Jacob when Gryphus crushed the first bulb. In + that moment Boxtel’s exasperation was the more fierce, as, though + suspecting that Cornelius possessed a second bulb, he by no means felt + sure of it. + </p> + <p> + From that moment he began to dodge the steps of Rosa, not only following + her to the garden, but also to the lobbies. + </p> + <p> + Only as this time he followed her in the night, and bare-footed, he was + neither seen nor heard except once, when Rosa thought she saw something + like a shadow on the staircase. + </p> + <p> + Her discovery, however, was made too late, as Boxtel had heard from the + mouth of the prisoner himself that a second bulb existed. + </p> + <p> + Taken in by the stratagem of Rosa, who had feigned to put it in the + ground, and entertaining no doubt that this little farce had been played + in order to force him to betray himself, he redoubled his precaution, and + employed every means suggested by his crafty nature to watch the others + without being watched himself. + </p> + <p> + He saw Rosa conveying a large flower-pot of white earthenware from her + father’s kitchen to her bedroom. He saw Rosa washing in pails of water her + pretty little hands, begrimed as they were with the mould which she had + handled, to give her tulip the best soil possible. + </p> + <p> + And at last he hired, just opposite Rosa’s window, a little attic, distant + enough not to allow him to be recognized with the naked eye, but + sufficiently near to enable him, with the help of his telescope, to watch + everything that was going on at the Loewestein in Rosa’s room, just as at + Dort he had watched the dry-room of Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + He had not been installed more than three days in his attic before all his + doubts were removed. + </p> + <p> + From morning to sunset the flower-pot was in the window, and, like those + charming female figures of Mieris and Metzys, Rosa appeared at that window + as in a frame, formed by the first budding sprays of the wild vine and the + honeysuckle encircling her window. + </p> + <p> + Rosa watched the flower-pot with an interest which betrayed to Boxtel the + real value of the object enclosed in it. + </p> + <p> + This object could not be anything else but the second bulb, that is to + say, the quintessence of all the hopes of the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + When the nights threatened to be too cold, Rosa took in the flower-pot. + </p> + <p> + Well, it was then quite evident she was following the instructions of + Cornelius, who was afraid of the bulb being killed by frost. + </p> + <p> + When the sun became too hot, Rosa likewise took in the pot from eleven in + the morning until two in the afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Another proof: Cornelius was afraid lest the soil should become too dry. + </p> + <p> + But when the first leaves peeped out of the earth Boxtel was fully + convinced; and his telescope left him no longer in any uncertainty before + they had grown one inch in height. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius possessed two bulbs, and the second was intrusted to the love + and care of Rosa. + </p> + <p> + For it may well be imagined that the tender secret of the two lovers had + not escaped the prying curiosity of Boxtel. + </p> + <p> + The question, therefore, was how to wrest the second bulb from the care of + Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Certainly this was no easy task. + </p> + <p> + Rosa watched over her tulip as a mother over her child, or a dove over her + eggs. + </p> + <p> + Rosa never left her room during the day, and, more than that, strange to + say, she never left it in the evening. + </p> + <p> + For seven days Boxtel in vain watched Rosa; she was always at her post. + </p> + <p> + This happened during those seven days which made Cornelius so unhappy, + depriving him at the same time of all news of Rosa and of his tulip. + </p> + <p> + Would the coolness between Rosa and Cornelius last for ever? + </p> + <p> + This would have made the theft much more difficult than Mynheer Isaac had + at first expected. + </p> + <p> + We say the theft, for Isaac had simply made up his mind to steal the + tulip; and as it grew in the most profound secrecy, and as, moreover, his + word, being that of a renowned tulip-grower, would any day be taken + against that of an unknown girl without any knowledge of horticulture, or + against that of a prisoner convicted of high treason, he confidently hoped + that, having once got possession of the bulb, he would be certain to + obtain the prize; and then the tulip, instead of being called Tulipa nigra + Barlœnsis, would go down to posterity under the name of Tulipa nigra + Boxtellensis or Boxtellea. + </p> + <p> + Mynheer Isaac had not yet quite decided which of these two names he would + give to the tulip, but, as both meant the same thing, this was, after all, + not the important point. + </p> + <p> + The point was to steal the tulip. But in order that Boxtel might steal the + tulip, it was necessary that Rosa should leave her room. + </p> + <p> + Great therefore was his joy when he saw the usual evening meetings of the + lovers resumed. + </p> + <p> + He first of all took advantage of Rosa’s absence to make himself fully + acquainted with all the peculiarities of the door of her chamber. The lock + was a double one and in good order, but Rosa always took the key with her. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel at first entertained an idea of stealing the key, but it soon + occurred to him, not only that it would be exceedingly difficult to + abstract it from her pocket, but also that, when she perceived her loss, + she would not leave her room until the lock was changed, and then Boxtel’s + first theft would be useless. + </p> + <p> + He thought it, therefore, better to employ a different expedient. He + collected as many keys as he could, and tried all of them during one of + those delightful hours which Rosa and Cornelius passed together at the + grating of the cell. + </p> + <p> + Two of the keys entered the lock, and one of them turned round once, but + not the second time. + </p> + <p> + There was, therefore, only a little to be done to this key. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel covered it with a slight coat of wax, and when he thus renewed the + experiment, the obstacle which prevented the key from being turned a + second time left its impression on the wax. + </p> + <p> + It cost Boxtel two days more to bring his key to perfection, with the aid + of a small file. + </p> + <p> + Rosa’s door thus opened without noise and without difficulty, and Boxtel + found himself in her room alone with the tulip. + </p> + <p> + The first guilty act of Boxtel had been to climb over a wall in order to + dig up the tulip; the second, to introduce himself into the dry-room of + Cornelius, through an open window; and the third, to enter Rosa’s room by + means of a false key. + </p> + <p> + Thus envy urged Boxtel on with rapid steps in the career of crime. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, as we have said, was alone with the tulip. + </p> + <p> + A common thief would have taken the pot under his arm, and carried it off. + </p> + <p> + But Boxtel was not a common thief, and he reflected. + </p> + <p> + It was not yet certain, although very probable, that the tulip would + flower black; if, therefore, he stole it now, he not only might be + committing a useless crime, but also the theft might be discovered in the + time which must elapse until the flower should open. + </p> + <p> + He therefore—as being in possession of the key, he might enter + Rosa’s chamber whenever he liked—thought it better to wait and to + take it either an hour before or after opening, and to start on the + instant to Haarlem, where the tulip would be before the judges of the + committee before any one else could put in a reclamation. + </p> + <p> + Should any one then reclaim it, Boxtel would in his turn charge him or her + with theft. + </p> + <p> + This was a deep-laid scheme, and quite worthy of its author. + </p> + <p> + Thus, every evening during that delightful hour which the two lovers + passed together at the grated window, Boxtel entered Rosa’s chamber to + watch the progress which the black tulip had made towards flowering. + </p> + <p> + On the evening at which we have arrived he was going to enter according to + custom; but the two lovers, as we have seen, only exchanged a few words + before Cornelius sent Rosa back to watch over the tulip. + </p> + <p> + Seeing Rosa enter her room ten minutes after she had left it, Boxtel + guessed that the tulip had opened, or was about to open. + </p> + <p> + During that night, therefore, the great blow was to be struck. Boxtel + presented himself before Gryphus with a double supply of Genièvre, that is + to say, with a bottle in each pocket. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus being once fuddled, Boxtel was very nearly master of the house. + </p> + <p> + At eleven o’clock Gryphus was dead drunk. At two in the morning Boxtel saw + Rosa leaving the chamber; but evidently she held in her arms something + which she carried with great care. + </p> + <p> + He did not doubt that this was the black tulip which was in flower. + </p> + <p> + But what was she going to do with it? Would she set out that instant to + Haarlem with it? + </p> + <p> + It was not possible that a young girl should undertake such a journey + alone during the night. + </p> + <p> + Was she only going to show the tulip to Cornelius? This was more likely. + </p> + <p> + He followed Rosa in his stocking feet, walking on tiptoe. + </p> + <p> + He saw her approach the grated window. He heard her calling Cornelius. By + the light of the dark lantern he saw the tulip open, and black as the + night in which he was hidden. + </p> + <p> + He heard the plan concerted between Cornelius and Rosa to send a messenger + to Haarlem. He saw the lips of the lovers meet, and then heard Cornelius + send Rosa away. + </p> + <p> + He saw Rosa extinguish the light and return to her chamber. Ten minutes + after, he saw her leave the room again, and lock it twice. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, who saw all this whilst hiding himself on the landing-place of the + staircase above, descended step by step from his story as Rosa descended + from hers; so that, when she touched with her light foot the lowest step + of the staircase, Boxtel touched with a still lighter hand the lock of + Rosa’s chamber. + </p> + <p> + And in that hand, it must be understood, he held the false key which + opened Rosa’s door as easily as did the real one. + </p> + <p> + And this is why, in the beginning of the chapter, we said that the poor + young people were in great need of the protection of God. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 24. The Black Tulip changes Masters + </h2> + <p> + Cornelius remained standing on the spot where Rosa had left him. He was + quite overpowered with the weight of his twofold happiness. + </p> + <p> + Half an hour passed away. Already did the first rays of the sun enter + through the iron grating of the prison, when Cornelius was suddenly + startled at the noise of steps which came up the staircase, and of cries + which approached nearer and nearer. + </p> + <p> + Almost at the same instant he saw before him the pale and distracted face + of Rosa. + </p> + <p> + He started, and turned pale with fright. + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius, Cornelius!” she screamed, gasping for breath. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heaven! what is it?” asked the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius! the tulip——” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” + </p> + <p> + “How shall I tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “Speak, speak, Rosa!” + </p> + <p> + “Some one has taken—stolen it from us.” + </p> + <p> + “Stolen—taken?” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Rosa, leaning against the door to support herself; “yes, + taken, stolen!” + </p> + <p> + And saying this, she felt her limbs failing her, and she fell on her + knees. + </p> + <p> + “But how? Tell me, explain to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it is not my fault, my friend.” + </p> + <p> + Poor Rosa! she no longer dared to call him “My beloved one.” + </p> + <p> + “You have then left it alone,” said Cornelius, ruefully. + </p> + <p> + “One minute only, to instruct our messenger, who lives scarcely fifty + yards off, on the banks of the Waal.” + </p> + <p> + “And during that time, notwithstanding all my injunctions, you left the + key behind, unfortunate child!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no, no! this is what I cannot understand. The key was never out of my + hands; I clinched it as if I were afraid it would take wings.” + </p> + <p> + “But how did it happen, then?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I cannot make out. I had given the letter to my messenger; he + started before I left his house; I came home, and my door was locked, + everything in my room was as I had left it, except the tulip,—that + was gone. Some one must have had a key for my room, or have got a false + one made on purpose.” + </p> + <p> + She was nearly choking with sobs, and was unable to continue. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, immovable and full of consternation, heard almost without + understanding, and only muttered,— + </p> + <p> + “Stolen, stolen, and I am lost!” + </p> + <p> + “O Cornelius, forgive me, forgive me, it will kill me!” + </p> + <p> + Seeing Rosa’s distress, Cornelius seized the iron bars of the grating, and + furiously shaking them, called out,— + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, Rosa, we have been robbed, it is true, but shall we allow ourselves + to be dejected for all that? No, no; the misfortune is great, but it may + perhaps be remedied. Rosa, we know the thief!” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! what can I say about it?” + </p> + <p> + “But I say that it is no one else but that infamous Jacob. Shall we allow + him to carry to Haarlem the fruit of our labour, the fruit of our + sleepless nights, the child of our love? Rosa, we must pursue, we must + overtake him!” + </p> + <p> + “But how can we do all this, my friend, without letting my father know we + were in communication with each other? How should I, a poor girl, with so + little knowledge of the world and its ways, be able to attain this end, + which perhaps you could not attain yourself?” + </p> + <p> + “Rosa, Rosa, open this door to me, and you will see whether I will not + find the thief,—whether I will not make him confess his crime and + beg for mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” cried Rosa, sobbing, “can I open the door for you? have I the + keys? If I had had them, would not you have been free long ago?” + </p> + <p> + “Your father has them,—your wicked father, who has already crushed + the first bulb of my tulip. Oh, the wretch! he is an accomplice of Jacob!” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t speak so loud, for Heaven’s sake!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rosa, if you don’t open the door to me,” Cornelius cried in his rage, + “I shall force these bars, and kill everything I find in the prison.” + </p> + <p> + “Be merciful, be merciful, my friend!” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, Rosa, that I shall demolish this prison, stone for stone!” + and the unfortunate man, whose strength was increased tenfold by his rage, + began to shake the door with a great noise, little heeding that the + thunder of his voice was re-echoing through the spiral staircase. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, in her fright, made vain attempts to check this furious outbreak. + </p> + <p> + “I tell you that I shall kill that infamous Gryphus?” roared Cornelius. “I + tell you I shall shed his blood as he did that of my black tulip.” + </p> + <p> + The wretched prisoner began really to rave. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, yes,” said Rosa, all in a tremble. “Yes, yes, only be quiet. + Yes, yes, I will take his keys, I will open the door for you! Yes, only be + quiet, my own dear Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + She did not finish her speech, as a growl by her side interrupted her. + </p> + <p> + “My father!” cried Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Gryphus!” roared Van Baerle. “Oh, you villain!” + </p> + <p> + Old Gryphus, in the midst of all the noise, had ascended the staircase + without being heard. + </p> + <p> + He rudely seized his daughter by the wrist. + </p> + <p> + “So you will take my keys?” he said, in a voice choked with rage. “Ah! + this dastardly fellow, this monster, this gallows-bird of a conspirator, + is your own dear Cornelius, is he? Ah! Missy has communications with + prisoners of state. Ah! won’t I teach you—won’t I?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa clasped her hands in despair. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” Gryphus continued, passing from the madness of anger to the cool + irony of a man who has got the better of his enemy,—“Ah, you + innocent tulip-fancier, you gentle scholar; you will kill me, and drink my + blood! Very well! very well! And you have my daughter for an accomplice. + Am I, forsooth, in a den of thieves,—in a cave of brigands? Yes, but + the Governor shall know all to-morrow, and his Highness the Stadtholder + the day after. We know the law,—we shall give a second edition of + the Buytenhof, Master Scholar, and a good one this time. Yes, yes, just + gnaw your paws like a bear in his cage, and you, my fine little lady, + devour your dear Cornelius with your eyes. I tell you, my lambkins, you + shall not much longer have the felicity of conspiring together. Away with + you, unnatural daughter! And as to you, Master Scholar, we shall see each + other again. Just be quiet,—we shall.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa, beyond herself with terror and despair, kissed her hands to her + friend; then, suddenly struck with a bright thought, she rushed toward the + staircase, saying,— + </p> + <p> + “All is not yet lost, Cornelius. Rely on me, my Cornelius.” + </p> + <p> + Her father followed her, growling. + </p> + <p> + As to poor Cornelius, he gradually loosened his hold of the bars, which + his fingers still grasped convulsively. His head was heavy, his eyes + almost started from their sockets, and he fell heavily on the floor of his + cell, muttering,— + </p> + <p> + “Stolen! it has been stolen from me!” + </p> + <p> + During this time Boxtel had left the fortress by the door which Rosa + herself had opened. He carried the black tulip wrapped up in a cloak, and, + throwing himself into a coach, which was waiting for him at Gorcum, he + drove off, without, as may well be imagined, having informed his friend + Gryphus of his sudden departure. + </p> + <p> + And now, as we have seen him enter his coach, we shall with the consent of + the reader, follow him to the end of his journey. + </p> + <p> + He proceeded but slowly, as the black tulip could not bear travelling + post-haste. + </p> + <p> + But Boxtel, fearing that he might not arrive early enough, procured at + Delft a box, lined all round with fresh moss, in which he packed the + tulip. The flower was so lightly pressed upon all sides, with a supply of + air from above, that the coach could now travel full speed without any + possibility of injury to the tulip. + </p> + <p> + He arrived next morning at Haarlem, fatigued but triumphant; and, to do + away with every trace of the theft, he transplanted the tulip, and, + breaking the original flower-pot, threw the pieces into the canal. After + which he wrote the President of the Horticultural Society a letter, in + which he announced to him that he had just arrived at Haarlem with a + perfectly black tulip; and, with his flower all safe, took up his quarters + at a good hotel in the town, and there he waited. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 25. The President van Systens + </h2> + <p> + Rosa, on leaving Cornelius, had fixed on her plan, which was no other than + to restore to Cornelius the stolen tulip, or never to see him again. + </p> + <p> + She had seen the despair of the prisoner, and she knew that it was derived + from a double source, and that it was incurable. + </p> + <p> + On the one hand, separation became inevitable,—Gryphus having at the + same time surprised the secret of their love and of their secret meetings. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, all the hopes on the fulfilment of which Cornelius van + Baerle had rested his ambition for the last seven years were now crushed. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was one of those women who are dejected by trifles, but who in great + emergencies are supplied by the misfortune itself with the energy for + combating or with the resources for remedying it. + </p> + <p> + She went to her room, and cast a last glance about her to see whether she + had not been mistaken, and whether the tulip was not stowed away in some + corner where it had escaped her notice. But she sought in vain, the tulip + was still missing; the tulip was indeed stolen. + </p> + <p> + Rosa made up a little parcel of things indispensable for a journey; took + her three hundred guilders,—that is to say, all her fortune,—fetched + the third bulb from among her lace, where she had laid it up, and + carefully hid it in her bosom; after which she locked her door twice to + disguise her flight as long as possible, and, leaving the prison by the + same door which an hour before had let out Boxtel, she went to a + stable-keeper to hire a carriage. + </p> + <p> + The man had only a two-wheel chaise, and this was the vehicle which Boxtel + had hired since last evening, and in which he was now driving along the + road to Delft; for the road from Loewestein to Haarlem, owing to the many + canals, rivers, and rivulets intersecting the country, is exceedingly + circuitous. + </p> + <p> + Not being able to procure a vehicle, Rosa was obliged to take a horse, + with which the stable-keeper readily intrusted her, knowing her to be the + daughter of the jailer of the fortress. + </p> + <p> + Rosa hoped to overtake her messenger, a kind-hearted and honest lad, whom + she would take with her, and who might at the same time serve her as a + guide and a protector. + </p> + <p> + And in fact she had not proceeded more than a league before she saw him + hastening along one of the side paths of a very pretty road by the river. + Setting her horse off at a canter, she soon came up with him. + </p> + <p> + The honest lad was not aware of the important character of his message; + nevertheless, he used as much speed as if he had known it; and in less + than an hour he had already gone a league and a half. + </p> + <p> + Rosa took from him the note, which had now become useless, and explained + to him what she wanted him to do for her. The boatman placed himself + entirely at her disposal, promising to keep pace with the horse if Rosa + would allow him to take hold of either the croup or the bridle of her + horse. The two travellers had been on their way for five hours, and made + more than eight leagues, and yet Gryphus had not the least suspicion of + his daughter having left the fortress. + </p> + <p> + The jailer, who was of a very spiteful and cruel disposition, chuckled + within himself at the idea of having struck such terror into his + daughter’s heart. + </p> + <p> + But whilst he was congratulating himself on having such a nice story to + tell to his boon companion, Jacob, that worthy was on his road to Delft; + and, thanks to the swiftness of the horse, had already the start of Rosa + and her companion by four leagues. + </p> + <p> + And whilst the affectionate father was rejoicing at the thought of his + daughter weeping in her room, Rosa was making the best of her way towards + Haarlem. + </p> + <p> + Thus the prisoner alone was where Gryphus thought him to be. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was so little with her father since she took care of the tulip, that + at his dinner hour, that is to say, at twelve o’clock, he was reminded for + the first time by his appetite that his daughter was fretting rather too + long. + </p> + <p> + He sent one of the under-turnkeys to call her; and, when the man came back + to tell him that he had called and sought her in vain, he resolved to go + and call her himself. + </p> + <p> + He first went to her room, but, loud as he knocked, Rosa answered not. + </p> + <p> + The locksmith of the fortress was sent for; he opened the door, but + Gryphus no more found Rosa than she had found the tulip. + </p> + <p> + At that very moment she entered Rotterdam. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus therefore had just as little chance of finding her in the kitchen + as in her room, and just as little in the garden as in the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + The reader may imagine the anger of the jailer when, after having made + inquiries about the neighbourhood, he heard that his daughter had hired a + horse, and, like an adventuress, set out on a journey without saying where + she was going. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus again went up in his fury to Van Baerle, abused him, threatened + him, knocked all the miserable furniture of his cell about, and promised + him all sorts of misery, even starvation and flogging. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius, without even hearing what his jailer said, allowed himself to + be ill-treated, abused, and threatened, remaining all the while sullen, + immovable, dead to every emotion and fear. + </p> + <p> + After having sought for Rosa in every direction, Gryphus looked out for + Jacob, and, as he could not find him either, he began to suspect from that + moment that Jacob had run away with her. + </p> + <p> + The damsel, meanwhile, after having stopped for two hours at Rotterdam, + had started again on her journey. On that evening she slept at Delft, and + on the following morning she reached Haarlem, four hours after Boxtel had + arrived there. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, first of all, caused herself to be led before Mynheer van Systens, + the President of the Horticultural Society of Haarlem. + </p> + <p> + She found that worthy gentleman in a situation which, to do justice to our + story, we must not pass over in our description. + </p> + <p> + The President was drawing up a report to the committee of the society. + </p> + <p> + This report was written on large-sized paper, in the finest handwriting of + the President. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was announced simply as Rosa Gryphus; but as her name, well as it + might sound, was unknown to the President, she was refused admittance. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, however, was by no means abashed, having vowed in her heart, in + pursuing her cause, not to allow herself to be put down either by refusal, + or abuse, or even brutality. + </p> + <p> + “Announce to the President,” she said to the servant, “that I want to + speak to him about the black tulip.” + </p> + <p> + These words seemed to be an “Open Sesame,” for she soon found herself in + the office of the President, Van Systens, who gallantly rose from his + chair to meet her. + </p> + <p> + He was a spare little man, resembling the stem of a flower, his head + forming its chalice, and his two limp arms representing the double leaf of + the tulip; the resemblance was rendered complete by his waddling gait + which made him even more like that flower when it bends under a breeze. + </p> + <p> + “Well, miss,” he said, “you are coming, I am told, about the affair of the + black tulip.” + </p> + <p> + To the President of the Horticultural Society the Tulipa nigra was a + first-rate power, which, in its character as queen of the tulips, might + send ambassadors. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered Rosa; “I come at least to speak of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it doing well, then?” asked Van Systens, with a smile of tender + veneration. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! sir, I don’t know,” said Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “How is that? could any misfortune have happened to it?” + </p> + <p> + “A very great one, sir; yet not to it, but to me.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “It has been stolen from me.” + </p> + <p> + “Stolen! the black tulip?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know the thief?” + </p> + <p> + “I have my suspicions, but I must not yet accuse any one.” + </p> + <p> + “But the matter may very easily be ascertained.” + </p> + <p> + “How is that?” + </p> + <p> + “As it has been stolen from you, the thief cannot be far off.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because I have seen the black tulip only two hours ago.” + </p> + <p> + “You have seen the black tulip!” cried Rosa, rushing up to Mynheer van + Systens. + </p> + <p> + “As I see you, miss.” + </p> + <p> + “But where?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, with your master, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “With my master?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, are you not in the service of Master Isaac Boxtel?” + </p> + <p> + “I?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you.” + </p> + <p> + “But for whom do you take me, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “And for whom do you take me?” + </p> + <p> + “I hope, sir, I take you for what you are,—that is to say, for the + honorable Mynheer van Systens, Burgomaster of Haarlem, and President of + the Horticultural Society.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is it you told me just now?” + </p> + <p> + “I told you, sir, that my tulip has been stolen.” + </p> + <p> + “Then your tulip is that of Mynheer Boxtel. Well, my child, you express + yourself very badly. The tulip has been stolen, not from you, but from + Mynheer Boxtel.” + </p> + <p> + “I repeat to you, sir, that I do not know who this Mynheer Boxtel is, and + that I have now heard his name pronounced for the first time.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not know who Mynheer Boxtel is, and you also had a black tulip?” + </p> + <p> + “But is there any other besides mine?” asked Rosa, trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,—that of Mynheer Boxtel.” + </p> + <p> + “How is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Black, of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Without speck?” + </p> + <p> + “Without a single speck, or even point.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have this tulip,—you have it deposited here?” + </p> + <p> + “No, but it will be, as it has to be exhibited before the committee + previous to the prize being awarded.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir!” cried Rosa, “this Boxtel—this Isaac Boxtel—who + calls himself the owner of the black tulip——” + </p> + <p> + “And who is its owner?” + </p> + <p> + “Is he not a very thin man?” + </p> + <p> + “Bald?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “With sunken eyes?” + </p> + <p> + “I think he has.” + </p> + <p> + “Restless, stooping, and bowlegged?” + </p> + <p> + “In truth, you draw Master Boxtel’s portrait feature by feature.” + </p> + <p> + “And the tulip, sir? Is it not in a pot of white and blue earthenware, + with yellowish flowers in a basket on three sides?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, as to that I am not quite sure; I looked more at the flower than at + the pot.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir! that’s my tulip, which has been stolen from me. I came here to + reclaim it before you and from you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh!” said Van Systens, looking at Rosa. “What! you are here to claim + the tulip of Master Boxtel? Well, I must say, you are cool enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Honoured sir,” a little put out by this apostrophe, “I do not say that I + am coming to claim the tulip of Master Boxtel, but to reclaim my own.” + </p> + <p> + “Yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the one which I have myself planted and nursed.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, go and find out Master Boxtel, at the White Swan Inn, and you + can then settle matters with him; as for me, considering that the cause + seems to me as difficult to judge as that which was brought before King + Solomon, and that I do not pretend to be as wise as he was, I shall + content myself with making my report, establishing the existence of the + black tulip, and ordering the hundred thousand guilders to be paid to its + grower. Good-bye, my child.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sir, sir!” said Rosa, imploringly. + </p> + <p> + “Only, my child,” continued Van Systens, “as you are young and pretty, and + as there may be still some good in you, I’ll give you some good advice. Be + prudent in this matter, for we have a court of justice and a prison here + at Haarlem, and, moreover, we are exceedingly ticklish as far as the + honour of our tulips is concerned. Go, my child, go, remember, Master + Isaac Boxtel at the White Swan Inn.” + </p> + <p> + And Mynheer van Systens, taking up his fine pen, resumed his report, which + had been interrupted by Rosa’s visit. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 26. A Member of the Horticultural Society + </h2> + <p> + Rosa, beyond herself and nearly mad with joy and fear at the idea of the + black tulip being found again, started for the White Swan, followed by the + boatman, a stout lad from Frisia, who was strong enough to knock down a + dozen Boxtels single-handed. + </p> + <p> + He had been made acquainted in the course of the journey with the state of + affairs, and was not afraid of any encounter; only he had orders, in such + a case, to spare the tulip. + </p> + <p> + But on arriving in the great market-place Rosa at once stopped, a sudden + thought had struck her, just as Homer’s Minerva seizes Achilles by the + hair at the moment when he is about to be carried away by his anger. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heaven!” she muttered to herself, “I have made a grievous blunder; + it may be I have ruined Cornelius, the tulip, and myself. I have given the + alarm, and perhaps awakened suspicion. I am but a woman; these men may + league themselves against me, and then I shall be lost. If I am lost that + matters nothing,—but Cornelius and the tulip!” + </p> + <p> + She reflected for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “If I go to that Boxtel, and do not know him; if that Boxtel is not my + Jacob, but another fancier, who has also discovered the black tulip; or if + my tulip has been stolen by some one else, or has already passed into the + hands of a third person;—if I do not recognize the man, only the + tulip, how shall I prove that it belongs to me? On the other hand, if I + recognise this Boxtel as Jacob, who knows what will come out of it? whilst + we are contesting with each other, the tulip will die.” + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile, a great noise was heard, like the distant roar of the + sea, at the other extremity of the market-place. People were running + about, doors opening and shutting, Rosa alone was unconscious of all this + hubbub among the multitude. + </p> + <p> + “We must return to the President,” she muttered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, let us return,” said the boatman. + </p> + <p> + They took a small street, which led them straight to the mansion of + Mynheer van Systens, who with his best pen in his finest hand continued to + draw up his report. + </p> + <p> + Everywhere on her way Rosa heard people speaking only of the black tulip, + and the prize of a hundred thousand guilders. The news had spread like + wildfire through the town. + </p> + <p> + Rosa had not a little difficulty is penetrating a second time into the + office of Mynheer van Systens, who, however, was again moved by the magic + name of the black tulip. + </p> + <p> + But when he recognised Rosa, whom in his own mind he had set down as mad, + or even worse, he grew angry, and wanted to send her away. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, however, clasped her hands, and said with that tone of honest truth + which generally finds its way to the hearts of men,— + </p> + <p> + “For Heaven’s sake, sir, do not turn me away; listen to what I have to + tell you, and if it be not possible for you to do me justice, at least you + will not one day have to reproach yourself before God for having made + yourself the accomplice of a bad action.” + </p> + <p> + Van Systens stamped his foot with impatience; it was the second time that + Rosa interrupted him in the midst of a composition which stimulated his + vanity, both as a burgomaster and as President of the Horticultural + Society. + </p> + <p> + “But my report!” he cried,—“my report on the black tulip!” + </p> + <p> + “Mynheer van Systens,” Rosa continued, with the firmness of innocence and + truth, “your report on the black tulip will, if you don’t hear me, be + based on crime or on falsehood. I implore you, sir, let this Master + Boxtel, whom I assert to be Master Jacob, be brought here before you and + me, and I swear that I will leave him in undisturbed possession of the + tulip if I do not recognise the flower and its holder.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I declare, here is a proposal,” said Van Systens. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I ask you what can be proved by your recognising them?” + </p> + <p> + “After all,” said Rosa, in her despair, “you are an honest man, sir; how + would you feel if one day you found out that you had given the prize to a + man for something which he not only had not produced, but which he had + even stolen?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa’s speech seemed to have brought a certain conviction into the heart + of Van Systens, and he was going to answer her in a gentler tone, when at + once a great noise was heard in the street, and loud cheers shook the + house. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” cried the burgomaster; “what is this? Is it possible? have + I heard aright?” + </p> + <p> + And he rushed towards his anteroom, without any longer heeding Rosa, whom + he left in his cabinet. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely had he reached his anteroom when he cried out aloud on seeing his + staircase invaded, up to the very landing-place, by the multitude, which + was accompanying, or rather following, a young man, simply clad in a + violet-coloured velvet, embroidered with silver; who, with a certain + aristocratic slowness, ascended the white stone steps of the house. + </p> + <p> + In his wake followed two officers, one of the navy, and the other of the + cavalry. + </p> + <p> + Van Systens, having found his way through the frightened domestics, began + to bow, almost to prostrate himself before his visitor, who had been the + cause of all this stir. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he called out, “Monseigneur! What distinguished honour is + your Highness bestowing for ever on my humble house by your visit?” + </p> + <p> + “Dear Mynheer van Systens,” said William of Orange, with a serenity which, + with him, took the place of a smile, “I am a true Hollander, I am fond of + the water, of beer, and of flowers, sometimes even of that cheese the + flavour of which seems so grateful to the French; the flower which I + prefer to all others is, of course, the tulip. I heard at Leyden that the + city of Haarlem at last possessed the black tulip; and, after having + satisfied myself of the truth of news which seemed so incredible, I have + come to know all about it from the President of the Horticultural + Society.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Monseigneur, Monseigneur!” said Van Systens, “what glory to the + society if its endeavours are pleasing to your Highness!” + </p> + <p> + “Have you got the flower here?” said the Prince, who, very likely, already + regretted having made such a long speech. + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to say we have not.” + </p> + <p> + “And where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “With its owner.” + </p> + <p> + “Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + “An honest tulip-grower of Dort.” + </p> + <p> + “His name?” + </p> + <p> + “Boxtel.” + </p> + <p> + “His quarters?” + </p> + <p> + “At the White Swan; I shall send for him, and if in the meanwhile your + Highness will do me the honour of stepping into my drawing-room, he will + be sure—knowing that your Highness is here—to lose no time in + bringing his tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, send for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Highness, but——” + </p> + <p> + “What is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothing of any consequence, Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything is of consequence, Mynheer van Systens.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, Monseigneur, if it must be said, a little difficulty has + presented itself.” + </p> + <p> + “What difficulty?” + </p> + <p> + “This tulip has already been claimed by usurpers. It’s true that it is + worth a hundred thousand guilders.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monseigneur, by usurpers, by forgers.” + </p> + <p> + “This is a crime, Mynheer van Systens.” + </p> + <p> + “So it is, your Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “And have you any proofs of their guilt?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Monseigneur, the guilty woman——” + </p> + <p> + “The guilty woman, Sir?” + </p> + <p> + “I ought to say, the woman who claims the tulip, Monseigneur, is here in + the room close by.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do you think of her?” + </p> + <p> + “I think, Monseigneur, that the bait of a hundred thousand guilders may + have tempted her.” + </p> + <p> + “And so she claims the tulip?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “And what proof does she offer?” + </p> + <p> + “I was just going to question her when your Highness came in.” + </p> + <p> + “Question her, Mynheer van Systens, question her. I am the first + magistrate of the country; I will hear the case and administer justice.” + </p> + <p> + “I have found my King Solomon,” said Van Systens, bowing, and showing the + way to the Prince. + </p> + <p> + His Highness was just going to walk ahead, but, suddenly recollecting + himself he said— + </p> + <p> + “Go before me, and call me plain Mynheer.” + </p> + <p> + The two then entered the cabinet. + </p> + <p> + Rosa was still standing at the same place, leaning on the window, and + looking through the panes into the garden. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! a Frisian girl,” said the Prince, as he observed Rosa’s gold brocade + headdress and red petticoat. + </p> + <p> + At the noise of their footsteps she turned round, but scarcely saw the + Prince, who seated himself in the darkest corner of the apartment. + </p> + <p> + All her attention, as may be easily imagined, was fixed on that important + person who was called Van Systens, so that she had no time to notice the + humble stranger who was following the master of the house, and who, for + aught she knew, might be somebody or nobody. + </p> + <p> + The humble stranger took a book down from the shelf, and made Van Systens + a sign to commence the examination forthwith. + </p> + <p> + Van Systens, likewise at the invitation of the young man in the violet + coat, sat down in his turn, and, quite happy and proud of the importance + thus cast upon him, began,— + </p> + <p> + “My child, you promise to tell me the truth and the entire truth + concerning this tulip?” + </p> + <p> + “I promise.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, speak before this gentleman; this gentleman is one of the + members of the Horticultural Society.” + </p> + <p> + “What am I to tell you, sir,” said Rosa, “beside that which I have told + you already.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, what is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I repeat the question I have addressed to you before.” + </p> + <p> + “Which?” + </p> + <p> + “That you will order Mynheer Boxtel to come here with his tulip. If I do + not recognise it as mine I will frankly tell it; but if I do recognise it + I will reclaim it, even if I go before his Highness the Stadtholder + himself, with my proofs in my hands.” + </p> + <p> + “You have, then, some proofs, my child?” + </p> + <p> + “God, who knows my good right, will assist me to some.” + </p> + <p> + Van Systens exchanged a look with the Prince, who, since the first words + of Rosa, seemed to try to remember her, as if it were not for the first + time that this sweet voice rang in his ears. + </p> + <p> + An officer went off to fetch Boxtel, and Van Systens in the meanwhile + continued his examination. + </p> + <p> + “And with what do you support your assertion that you are the real owner + of the black tulip?” + </p> + <p> + “With the very simple fact of my having planted and grown it in my own + chamber.” + </p> + <p> + “In your chamber? Where was your chamber?” + </p> + <p> + “At Loewestein.” + </p> + <p> + “You are from Loewestein?” + </p> + <p> + “I am the daughter of the jailer of the fortress.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince made a little movement, as much as to say, “Well, that’s it, I + remember now.” + </p> + <p> + And, all the while feigning to be engaged with his book, he watched Rosa + with even more attention than he had before. + </p> + <p> + “And you are fond of flowers?” continued Mynheer van Systens. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you are an experienced florist, I dare say?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa hesitated a moment; then with a tone which came from the depth of her + heart, she said,— + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen, I am speaking to men of honor.” + </p> + <p> + There was such an expression of truth in the tone of her voice, that Van + Systens and the Prince answered simultaneously by an affirmative movement + of their heads. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I am not an experienced florist; I am only a poor girl, one + of the people, who, three months ago, knew neither how to read nor how to + write. No, the black tulip has not been found by myself.” + </p> + <p> + “But by whom else?” + </p> + <p> + “By a poor prisoner of Loewestein.” + </p> + <p> + “By a prisoner of Loewestein?” repeated the Prince. + </p> + <p> + The tone of his voice startled Rosa, who was sure she had heard it before. + </p> + <p> + “By a prisoner of state, then,” continued the Prince, “as there are none + else there.” + </p> + <p> + Having said this he began to read again, at least in appearance. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Rosa, with a faltering voice, “yes, by a prisoner of state.” + </p> + <p> + Van Systens trembled as he heard such a confession made in the presence of + such a witness. + </p> + <p> + “Continue,” said William dryly, to the President of the Horticultural + Society. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, sir,” said Rosa, addressing the person whom she thought to be her + real judge, “I am going to incriminate myself very seriously.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said Van Systens, “the prisoner of state ought to be kept in + close confinement at Loewestein.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! sir.” + </p> + <p> + “And from what you tell me you took advantage of your position, as + daughter of the jailer, to communicate with a prisoner of state about the + cultivation of flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “So it is, sir,” Rosa murmured in dismay; “yes, I am bound to confess, I + saw him every day.” + </p> + <p> + “Unfortunate girl!” exclaimed Van Systens. + </p> + <p> + The Prince, observing the fright of Rosa and the pallor of the President, + raised his head, and said, in his clear and decided tone,— + </p> + <p> + “This cannot signify anything to the members of the Horticultural Society; + they have to judge on the black tulip, and have no cognizance to take of + political offences. Go on, young woman, go on.” + </p> + <p> + Van Systens, by means of an eloquent glance, offered, in the name of the + tulip, his thanks to the new member of the Horticultural Society. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, reassured by this sort of encouragement which the stranger was + giving her, related all that had happened for the last three months, all + that she had done, and all that she had suffered. She described the + cruelty of Gryphus; the destruction of the first bulb; the grief of the + prisoner; the precautions taken to insure the success of the second bulb; + the patience of the prisoner and his anxiety during their separation; how + he was about to starve himself because he had no longer any news of his + tulip; his joy when she went to see him again; and, lastly, their despair + when they found that the tulip which had come into flower was stolen just + one hour after it had opened. + </p> + <p> + All this was detailed with an accent of truth which, although producing no + change in the impassible mien of the Prince, did not fail to take effect + on Van Systens. + </p> + <p> + “But,” said the Prince, “it cannot be long since you knew the prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa opened her large eyes and looked at the stranger, who drew back into + the dark corner, as if he wished to escape her observation. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir?” she asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Because it is not yet four months since the jailer Gryphus and his + daughter were removed to Loewestein.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Otherwise, you must have solicited the transfer of your father, in order + to be able to follow some prisoner who may have been transported from the + Hague to Loewestein.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir,” said Rosa, blushing. + </p> + <p> + “Finish what you have to say,” said William. + </p> + <p> + “I confess I knew the prisoner at the Hague.” + </p> + <p> + “Happy prisoner!” said William, smiling. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the officer who had been sent for Boxtel returned, and + announced to the Prince that the person whom he had been to fetch was + following on his heels with his tulip. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 27. The Third Bulb + </h2> + <p> + Boxtel’s return was scarcely announced, when he entered in person the + drawing-room of Mynheer van Systens, followed by two men, who carried in a + box their precious burden and deposited it on a table. + </p> + <p> + The Prince, on being informed, left the cabinet, passed into the + drawing-room, admired the flower, and silently resumed his seat in the + dark corner, where he had himself placed his chair. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, trembling, pale and terrified, expected to be invited in her turn to + see the tulip. + </p> + <p> + She now heard the voice of Boxtel. + </p> + <p> + “It is he!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + The Prince made her a sign to go and look through the open door into the + drawing-room. + </p> + <p> + “It is my tulip,” cried Rosa, “I recognise it. Oh, my poor Cornelius!” + </p> + <p> + And saying this she burst into tears. + </p> + <p> + The Prince rose from his seat, went to the door, where he stood for some + time with the full light falling upon his figure. + </p> + <p> + As Rosa’s eyes now rested upon him, she felt more than ever convinced that + this was not the first time she had seen the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “Master Boxtel,” said the Prince, “come in here, if you please.” + </p> + <p> + Boxtel eagerly approached, and, finding himself face to face with William + of Orange, started back. + </p> + <p> + “His Highness!” he called out. + </p> + <p> + “His Highness!” Rosa repeated in dismay. + </p> + <p> + Hearing this exclamation on his left, Boxtel turned round, and perceived + Rosa. + </p> + <p> + At this sight the whole frame of the thief shook as if under the influence + of a galvanic shock. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” muttered the Prince to himself, “he is confused.” + </p> + <p> + But Boxtel, making a violent effort to control his feelings, was already + himself again. + </p> + <p> + “Master Boxtel,” said William, “you seem to have discovered the secret of + growing the black tulip?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Highness,” answered Boxtel, in a voice which still betrayed + some confusion. + </p> + <p> + It is true his agitation might have been attributable to the emotion which + the man must have felt on suddenly recognising the Prince. + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued the Stadtholder, “here is a young damsel who also + pretends to have found it.” + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, with a disdainful smile, shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + William watched all his movements with evident interest and curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t know this young girl?” said the Prince. + </p> + <p> + “No, your Highness!” + </p> + <p> + “And you, child, do you know Master Boxtel?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t know Master Boxtel, but I know Master Jacob.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean to say that at Loewestein the man who here calls himself Isaac + Boxtel went by the name of Master Jacob.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you say to that, Master Boxtel?” + </p> + <p> + “I say that this damsel lies, your Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “You deny, therefore, having ever been at Loewestein?” + </p> + <p> + Boxtel hesitated; the fixed and searching glance of the proud eye of the + Prince prevented him from lying. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot deny having been at Loewestein, your Highness, but I deny having + stolen the tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “You have stolen it, and that from my room,” cried Rosa, with indignation. + </p> + <p> + “I deny it.” + </p> + <p> + “Now listen to me. Do you deny having followed me into the garden, on the + day when I prepared the border where I was to plant it? Do you deny having + followed me into the garden when I pretended to plant it? Do you deny + that, on that evening, you rushed after my departure to the spot where you + hoped to find the bulb? Do you deny having dug in the ground with your + hands—but, thank God! in vain, as it was a stratagem to discover + your intentions. Say, do you deny all this?” + </p> + <p> + Boxtel did not deem it fit to answer these several charges, but, turning + to the Prince, continued,— + </p> + <p> + “I have now for twenty years grown tulips at Dort. I have even acquired + some reputation in this art; one of my hybrids is entered in the catalogue + under the name of an illustrious personage. I have dedicated it to the + King of Portugal. The truth in the matter is as I shall now tell your + Highness. This damsel knew that I had produced the black tulip, and, in + concert with a lover of hers in the fortress of Loewestein, she formed the + plan of ruining me by appropriating to herself the prize of a hundred + thousand guilders, which, with the help of your Highness’s justice, I hope + to gain.” + </p> + <p> + “Yah!” cried Rosa, beyond herself with anger. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” said the Prince. + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to Boxtel, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “And who is that prisoner to whom you allude as the lover of this young + woman?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa nearly swooned, for Cornelius was designated as a dangerous prisoner, + and recommended by the Prince to the especial surveillance of the jailer. + </p> + <p> + Nothing could have been more agreeable to Boxtel than this question. + </p> + <p> + “This prisoner,” he said, “is a man whose name in itself will prove to + your Highness what trust you may place in his probity. He is a prisoner of + state, who was once condemned to death.” + </p> + <p> + “And his name?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa hid her face in her hands with a movement of despair. + </p> + <p> + “His name is Cornelius van Baerle,” said Boxtel, “and he is godson of that + villain Cornelius de Witt.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince gave a start, his generally quiet eye flashed, and a death-like + paleness spread over his impassible features. + </p> + <p> + He went up to Rosa, and with his finger, gave her a sign to remove her + hands from her face. + </p> + <p> + Rosa obeyed, as if under mesmeric influence, without having seen the sign. + </p> + <p> + “It was, then to follow this man that you came to me at Leyden to solicit + for the transfer of your father?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa hung down her head, and, nearly choking, said,— + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” said the Prince to Boxtel. + </p> + <p> + “I have nothing more to say,” Isaac continued. “Your Highness knows all. + But there is one thing which I did not intend to say, because I did not + wish to make this girl blush for her ingratitude. I came to Loewestein + because I had business there. On this occasion I made the acquaintance of + old Gryphus, and, falling in love with his daughter, made an offer of + marriage to her; and, not being rich, I committed the imprudence of + mentioning to them my prospect of gaining a hundred thousand guilders, in + proof of which I showed to them the black tulip. Her lover having himself + made a show at Dort of cultivating tulips to hide his political intrigues, + they now plotted together for my ruin. On the eve of the day when the + flower was expected to open, the tulip was taken away by this young woman. + She carried it to her room, from which I had the good luck to recover it + at the very moment when she had the impudence to despatch a messenger to + announce to the members of the Horticultural Society that she had produced + the grand black tulip. But she did not stop there. There is no doubt that, + during the few hours which she kept the flower in her room, she showed it + to some persons whom she may now call as witnesses. But, fortunately, your + Highness has now been warned against this impostor and her witnesses.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my God, my God! what infamous falsehoods!” said Rosa, bursting into + tears, and throwing herself at the feet of the Stadtholder, who, although + thinking her guilty, felt pity for her dreadful agony. + </p> + <p> + “You have done very wrong, my child,” he said, “and your lover shall be + punished for having thus badly advised you. For you are so young, and have + such an honest look, that I am inclined to believe the mischief to have + been his doing, and not yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur! Monseigneur!” cried Rosa, “Cornelius is not guilty.” + </p> + <p> + William started. + </p> + <p> + “Not guilty of having advised you? that’s what you want to say, is it + not?” + </p> + <p> + “What I wish to say, your Highness, is that Cornelius is as little guilty + of the second crime imputed to him as he was of the first.” + </p> + <p> + “Of the first? And do you know what was his first crime? Do you know of + what he was accused and convicted? Of having, as an accomplice of + Cornelius de Witt, concealed the correspondence of the Grand Pensionary + and the Marquis de Louvois.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, he was ignorant of this correspondence being deposited with + him; completely ignorant. I am as certain as of my life, that, if it were + not so, he would have told me; for how could that pure mind have harboured + a secret without revealing it to me? No, no, your Highness, I repeat it, + and even at the risk of incurring your displeasure, Cornelius is no more + guilty of the first crime than of the second; and of the second no more + than of the first. Oh, would to Heaven that you knew my Cornelius; + Monseigneur!” + </p> + <p> + “He is a De Witt!” cried Boxtel. “His Highness knows only too much of him, + having once granted him his life.” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” said the Prince; “all these affairs of state, as I have already + said, are completely out of the province of the Horticultural Society of + Haarlem.” + </p> + <p> + Then, knitting his brow, he added,— + </p> + <p> + “As to the tulip, make yourself easy, Master Boxtel, you shall have + justice done to you.” + </p> + <p> + Boxtel bowed with a heart full of joy, and received the congratulations of + the President. + </p> + <p> + “You, my child,” William of Orange continued, “you were going to commit a + crime. I will not punish you; but the real evil-doer shall pay the penalty + for both. A man of his name may be a conspirator, and even a traitor, but + he ought not to be a thief.” + </p> + <p> + “A thief!” cried Rosa. “Cornelius a thief? Pray, your Highness, do not say + such a word, it would kill him, if he knew it. If theft there has been, I + swear to you, Sir, no one else but this man has committed it.” + </p> + <p> + “Prove it,” Boxtel coolly remarked. + </p> + <p> + “I shall prove it. With God’s help I shall.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning towards Boxtel, she asked,— + </p> + <p> + “The tulip is yours?” + </p> + <p> + “It is.” + </p> + <p> + “How many bulbs were there of it?” + </p> + <p> + Boxtel hesitated for a moment, but after a short consideration he came to + the conclusion that she would not ask this question if there were none + besides the two bulbs of which he had known already. He therefore + answered,— + </p> + <p> + “Three.” + </p> + <p> + “What has become of these bulbs?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! what has become of them? Well, one has failed; the second has + produced the black tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “And the third?” + </p> + <p> + “The third!” + </p> + <p> + “The third,—where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “I have it at home,” said Boxtel, quite confused. + </p> + <p> + “At home? Where? At Loewestein, or at Dort?” + </p> + <p> + “At Dort,” said Boxtel. + </p> + <p> + “You lie!” cried Rosa. “Monseigneur,” she continued, whilst turning round + to the Prince, “I will tell you the true story of these three bulbs. The + first was crushed by my father in the prisoner’s cell, and this man is + quite aware of it, for he himself wanted to get hold of it, and, being + balked in his hope, he very nearly fell out with my father, who had been + the cause of his disappointment. The second bulb, planted by me, has + produced the black tulip, and the third and last”—saying this, she + drew it from her bosom—“here it is, in the very same paper in which + it was wrapped up together with the two others. When about to be led to + the scaffold, Cornelius van Baerle gave me all the three. Take it, + Monseigneur, take it.” + </p> + <p> + And Rosa, unfolding the paper, offered the bulb to the Prince, who took it + from her hands and examined it. + </p> + <p> + “But, Monseigneur, this young woman may have stolen the bulb, as she did + the tulip,” Boxtel said, with a faltering voice, and evidently alarmed at + the attention with which the Prince examined the bulb; and even more at + the movements of Rosa, who was reading some lines written on the paper + which remained in her hands. + </p> + <p> + Her eyes suddenly lighted up; she read, with breathless anxiety, the + mysterious paper over and over again; and at last, uttering a cry, held it + out to the Prince and said, “Read, Monseigneur, for Heaven’s sake, read!” + </p> + <p> + William handed the third bulb to Van Systens, took the paper, and read. + </p> + <p> + No sooner had he looked at it than he began to stagger; his hand trembled, + and very nearly let the paper fall to the ground; and the expression of + pain and compassion in his features was really frightful to see. + </p> + <p> + It was that fly-leaf, taken from the Bible, which Cornelius de Witt had + sent to Dort by Craeke, the servant of his brother John, to request Van + Baerle to burn the correspondence of the Grand Pensionary with the Marquis + de Louvois. + </p> + <p> + This request, as the reader may remember, was couched in the following + terms:— + </p> + <p> + “My Dear Godson,— + </p> + <p> + “Burn the parcel which I have intrusted to you. Burn it without looking at + it, and without opening it, so that its contents may for ever remain + unknown to yourself. Secrets of this description are death to those with + whom they are deposited. Burn it, and you will have saved John and + Cornelius de Witt. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell, and love me. + </p> + <p> + “Cornelius de Witt. + </p> + <p> + “August 20, 1672.” + </p> + <p> + This slip of paper offered the proofs both of Van Baerle’s innocence and + of his claim to the property of the tulip. + </p> + <p> + Rosa and the Stadtholder exchanged one look only. + </p> + <p> + That of Rosa was meant to express, “Here, you see yourself.” + </p> + <p> + That of the Stadtholder signified, “Be quiet, and wait.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and slowly folded up + the paper, whilst his thoughts were wandering in that labyrinth without a + goal and without a guide, which is called remorse and shame for the past. + </p> + <p> + Soon, however, raising his head with an effort, he said, in his usual + voice,— + </p> + <p> + “Go, Mr. Boxtel; justice shall be done, I promise you.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning to the President, he added,— + </p> + <p> + “You, my dear Mynheer van Systens, take charge of this young woman and of + the tulip. Good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + All bowed, and the Prince left, among the deafening cheers of the crowd + outside. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel returned to his inn, rather puzzled and uneasy, tormented by + misgivings about that paper which William had received from the hand of + Rosa, and which his Highness had read, folded up, and so carefully put in + his pocket. What was the meaning of all this? + </p> + <p> + Rosa went up to the tulip, tenderly kissed its leaves and, with a heart + full of happiness and confidence in the ways of God, broke out in the + words,— + </p> + <p> + “Thou knowest best for what end Thou madest my good Cornelius teach me to + read.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 28. The Hymn of the Flowers + </h2> + <p> + Whilst the events we have described in our last chapter were taking place, + the unfortunate Van Baerle, forgotten in his cell in the fortress of + Loewestein, suffered at the hands of Gryphus all that a prisoner can + suffer when his jailer has formed the determination of playing the part of + hangman. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus, not having received any tidings of Rosa or of Jacob, persuaded + himself that all that had happened was the devil’s work, and that Dr. + Cornelius van Baerle had been sent on earth by Satan. + </p> + <p> + The result of it was, that, one fine morning, the third after the + disappearance of Jacob and Rosa, he went up to the cell of Cornelius in + even a greater rage than usual. + </p> + <p> + The latter, leaning with his elbows on the window-sill and supporting his + head with his two hands, whilst his eyes wandered over the distant hazy + horizon where the windmills of Dort were turning their sails, was + breathing the fresh air, in order to be able to keep down his tears and to + fortify himself in his philosophy. + </p> + <p> + The pigeons were still there, but hope was not there; there was no future + to look forward to. + </p> + <p> + Alas! Rosa, being watched, was no longer able to come. Could she not + write? and if so, could she convey her letters to him? + </p> + <p> + No, no. He had seen during the two preceding days too much fury and + malignity in the eyes of old Gryphus to expect that his vigilance would + relax, even for one moment. Moreover, had not she to suffer even worse + torments than those of seclusion and separation? Did this brutal, + blaspheming, drunken bully take revenge on his daughter, like the ruthless + fathers of the Greek drama? And when the Genièvre had heated his brain, + would it not give to his arm, which had been only too well set by + Cornelius, even double force? + </p> + <p> + The idea that Rosa might perhaps be ill-treated nearly drove Cornelius + mad. + </p> + <p> + He then felt his own powerlessness. He asked himself whether God was just + in inflicting so much tribulation on two innocent creatures. And certainly + in these moments he began to doubt the wisdom of Providence. It is one of + the curses of misfortune that it thus begets doubt. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle had proposed to write to Rosa, but where was she? + </p> + <p> + He also would have wished to write to the Hague to be beforehand with + Gryphus, who, he had no doubt, would by denouncing him do his best to + bring new storms on his head. + </p> + <p> + But how should he write? Gryphus had taken the paper and pencil from him, + and even if he had both, he could hardly expect Gryphus to despatch his + letter. + </p> + <p> + Then Cornelius revolved in his mind all those stratagems resorted to by + unfortunate prisoners. + </p> + <p> + He had thought of an attempt to escape, a thing which never entered his + head whilst he could see Rosa every day; but the more he thought of it, + the more clearly he saw the impracticability of such an attempt. He was + one of those choice spirits who abhor everything that is common, and who + often lose a good chance through not taking the way of the vulgar, that + high road of mediocrity which leads to everything. + </p> + <p> + “How is it possible,” said Cornelius to himself, “that I should escape + from Loewestein, as Grotius has done the same thing before me? Has not + every precaution been taken since? Are not the windows barred? Are not the + doors of double and even of treble strength, and the sentinels ten times + more watchful? And have not I, besides all this, an Argus so much the more + dangerous as he has the keen eyes of hatred? Finally, is there not one + fact which takes away all my spirit, I mean Rosa’s absence? But suppose I + should waste ten years of my life in making a file to file off my bars, or + in braiding cords to let myself down from the window, or in sticking wings + on my shoulders to fly, like Dædalus? But luck is against me now. The + file would get dull, the rope would break, or my wings would melt in the + sun; I should surely kill myself, I should be picked up maimed and + crippled; I should be labelled, and put on exhibition in the museum at the + Hague between the blood-stained doublet of William the Taciturn and the + female walrus captured at Stavesen, and the only result of my enterprise + will have been to procure me a place among the curiosities of Holland. + </p> + <p> + “But no; and it is much better so. Some fine day Gryphus will commit some + atrocity. I am losing my patience, since I have lost the joy and company + of Rosa, and especially since I have lost my tulip. Undoubtedly, some day + or other Gryphus will attack me in a manner painful to my self-respect, or + to my love, or even threaten my personal safety. I don’t know how it is, + but since my imprisonment I feel a strange and almost irresistible + pugnacity. Well, I shall get at the throat of that old villain, and + strangle him.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius at these words stopped for a moment, biting his lips and staring + out before him; then, eagerly returning to an idea which seemed to possess + a strange fascination for him, he continued,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, and once having strangled him, why should I not take his keys from + him, why not go down the stairs as if I had done the most virtuous action, + why not go and fetch Rosa from her room, why not tell her all, and jump + from her window into the Waal? I am expert enough as a swimmer to save + both of us. Rosa,—but, oh Heaven, Gryphus is her father! Whatever + may be her affection for me, she will never approve of my having strangled + her father, brutal and malicious as he has been. + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to enter into an argument with her; and in the midst of my + speech some wretched turnkey who has found Gryphus with the death-rattle + in his throat, or perhaps actually dead, will come along and put his hand + on my shoulder. Then I shall see the Buytenhof again, and the gleam of + that infernal sword,—which will not stop half-way a second time, but + will make acquaintance with the nape of my neck. + </p> + <p> + “It will not do, Cornelius, my fine fellow,—it is a bad plan. But, + then, what is to become of me, and how shall I find Rosa again?” + </p> + <p> + Such were the cogitations of Cornelius three days after the sad scene of + separation from Rosa, at the moment when we find him standing at the + window. + </p> + <p> + And at that very moment Gryphus entered. + </p> + <p> + He held in his hand a huge stick, his eyes glistening with spiteful + thoughts, a malignant smile played round his lips, and the whole of his + carriage, and even all his movements, betokened bad and malicious + intentions. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius heard him enter, and guessed that it was he, but did not turn + round, as he knew well that Rosa was not coming after him. + </p> + <p> + There is nothing more galling to angry people than the coolness of those + on whom they wish to vent their spleen. + </p> + <p> + The expense being once incurred, one does not like to lose it; one’s + passion is roused, and one’s blood boiling, so it would be labour lost not + to have at least a nice little row. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus, therefore, on seeing that Cornelius did not stir, tried to + attract his attention by a loud— + </p> + <p> + “Umph, umph!” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius was humming between his teeth the “Hymn of Flowers,”—a sad + but very charming song,— + </p> + <p> + “We are the daughters of the secret fire Of the fire which runs through + the veins of the earth; We are the daughters of Aurora and of the dew; We + are the daughters of the air; We are the daughters of the water; But we + are, above all, the daughters of heaven.” + </p> + <p> + This song, the placid melancholy of which was still heightened by its calm + and sweet melody, exasperated Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + He struck his stick on the stone pavement of the cell, and called out,— + </p> + <p> + “Halloa! my warbling gentleman, don’t you hear me?” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius turned round, merely saying, “Good morning,” and then began his + song again:— + </p> + <p> + “Men defile us and kill us while loving us, We hang to the earth by a + thread; This thread is our root, that is to say, our life, But we raise on + high our arms towards heaven.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you accursed sorcerer! you are making game of me, I believe,” roared + Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius continued:— + </p> + <p> + “For heaven is our home, Our true home, as from thence comes our soul, As + thither our soul returns,—Our soul, that is to say, our perfume.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus went up to the prisoner and said,— + </p> + <p> + “But you don’t see that I have taken means to get you under, and to force + you to confess your crimes.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad, my dear Master Gryphus?” asked Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + And, as he now for the first time observed the frenzied features, the + flashing eyes, and foaming mouth of the old jailer, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Bless the man, he is more than mad, he is furious.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus flourished his stick above his head, but Van Baerle moved not, and + remained standing with his arms akimbo. + </p> + <p> + “It seems your intention to threaten me, Master Gryphus.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, I threaten you,” cried the jailer. + </p> + <p> + “And with what?” + </p> + <p> + “First of all, look at what I have in my hand.” + </p> + <p> + “I think that’s a stick,” said Cornelius calmly, “but I don’t suppose you + will threaten me with that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you don’t suppose! why not?” + </p> + <p> + “Because any jailer who strikes a prisoner is liable to two penalties,—the + first laid down in Article 9 of the regulations at Loewestein:— + </p> + <p> + “‘Any jailer, inspector, or turnkey who lays hands upon any prisoner of + State will be dismissed.’” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, who lays hands,” said Gryphus, mad with rage, “but there is not a + word about a stick in the regulation.” + </p> + <p> + “And the second,” continued Cornelius, “which is not written in the + regulation, but which is to be found elsewhere:— + </p> + <p> + “‘Whosoever takes up the stick will be thrashed by the stick.’” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus, growing more and more exasperated by the calm and sententious + tone of Cornelius, brandished his cudgel, but at the moment when he raised + it Cornelius rushed at him, snatched it from his hands, and put it under + his own arm. + </p> + <p> + Gryphus fairly bellowed with rage. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush, my good man,” said Cornelius, “don’t do anything to lose your + place.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you sorcerer! I’ll pinch you worse,” roared Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “I wish you may.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t you see my hand is empty?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I see it, and I am glad of it.” + </p> + <p> + “You know that it is not generally so when I come upstairs in the + morning.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s true, you generally bring me the worst soup, and the most miserable + rations one can imagine. But that’s not a punishment to me; I eat only + bread, and the worse the bread is to your taste, the better it is to + mine.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it’s a very simple thing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, tell it me,” said Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “Very willingly. I know that in giving me bad bread you think you do me + harm.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly; I don’t give it you to please you, you brigand.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I, who am a sorcerer, as you know, change your bad into + excellent bread, which I relish more than the best cake; and then I have + the double pleasure of eating something that gratifies my palate, and of + doing something that puts you in a rage.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus answered with a growl. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! you confess, then, that you are a sorcerer.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, I am one. I don’t say it before all the world, because they might + burn me for it, but as we are alone, I don’t mind telling you.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, well,” answered Gryphus. “But if a sorcerer can change black + bread into white, won’t he die of hunger if he has no bread at all?” + </p> + <p> + “What’s that?” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Consequently, I shall not bring you any bread at all, and we shall see + how it will be after eight days.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius grew pale. + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued Gryphus, “we’ll begin this very day. As you are such a + clever sorcerer, why, you had better change the furniture of your room + into bread; as to myself, I shall pocket the eighteen sous which are paid + to me for your board.” + </p> + <p> + “But that’s murder,” cried Cornelius, carried away by the first impulse of + the very natural terror with which this horrible mode of death inspired + him. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Gryphus went on, in his jeering way, “as you are a sorcerer, you + will live, notwithstanding.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius put on a smiling face again, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Have you not seen me make the pigeons come here from Dort?” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “Well, a pigeon is a very dainty morsel, and a man who eats one every day + would not starve, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “And how about the fire?” said Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + “Fire! but you know that I’m in league with the devil. Do you think the + devil will leave me without fire? Why, fire is his proper element.” + </p> + <p> + “A man, however healthy his appetite may be, would not eat a pigeon every + day. Wagers have been laid to do so, and those who made them gave them + up.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but when I am tired of pigeons, I shall make the fish of the Waal + and of the Meuse come up to me.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus opened his large eyes, quite bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “I am rather fond of fish,” continued Cornelius; “you never let me have + any. Well, I shall turn your starving me to advantage, and regale myself + with fish.” + </p> + <p> + Gryphus nearly fainted with anger and with fright, but he soon rallied, + and said, putting his hand in his pocket,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, as you force me to it,” and with these words he drew forth a + clasp-knife and opened it. + </p> + <p> + “Halloa! a knife?” said Cornelius, preparing to defend himself with his + stick. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 29. In which Van Baerle, before leaving Loewestein, settles + Accounts with Gryphus + </h2> + <p> + The two remained silent for some minutes, Gryphus on the offensive, and + Van Baerle on the defensive. + </p> + <p> + Then, as the situation might be prolonged to an indefinite length, + Cornelius, anxious to know something more of the causes which had so + fiercely exasperated his jailer, spoke first by putting the question,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you want, after all?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you what I want,” answered Gryphus; “I want you to restore to + me my daughter Rosa.” + </p> + <p> + “Your daughter?” cried Van Baerle. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my daughter Rosa, whom you have taken from me by your devilish + magic. Now, will you tell me where she is?” + </p> + <p> + And the attitude of Gryphus became more and more threatening. + </p> + <p> + “Rosa is not at Loewestein?” cried Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “You know well she is not. Once more, will you restore her to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Cornelius, “this is a trap you are laying for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, for the last time, will you tell me where my daughter is?” + </p> + <p> + “Guess it, you rogue, if you don’t know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Only wait, only wait,” growled Gryphus, white with rage, and with + quivering lips, as his brain began to turn. “Ah, you will not tell me + anything? Well, I’ll unlock your teeth!” + </p> + <p> + He advanced a step towards Cornelius, and said, showing him the weapon + which he held in his hands,— + </p> + <p> + “Do you see this knife? Well, I have killed more than fifty black cocks + with it, and I vow I’ll kill their master, the devil, as well as them.” + </p> + <p> + “But, you blockhead,” said Cornelius, “will you really kill me?” + </p> + <p> + “I shall open your heart to see in it the place where you hide my + daughter.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, Gryphus in his frenzy rushed towards Cornelius, who had + barely time to retreat behind his table to avoid the first thrust; but as + Gryphus continued, with horrid threats, to brandish his huge knife, and + as, although out of the reach of his weapon, yet, as long as it remained + in the madman’s hand, the ruffian might fling it at him, Cornelius lost no + time, and availing himself of the stick, which he held tight under his + arm, dealt the jailer a vigorous blow on the wrist of that hand which held + the knife. + </p> + <p> + The knife fell to the ground, and Cornelius put his foot on it. + </p> + <p> + Then, as Gryphus seemed bent upon engaging in a struggle which the pain in + his wrist, and shame for having allowed himself to be disarmed, would have + made desperate, Cornelius took a decisive step, belaboring his jailer with + the most heroic self-possession, and selecting the exact spot for every + blow of the terrible cudgel. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before Gryphus begged for mercy. But before begging for + mercy, he had lustily roared for help, and his cries had roused all the + functionaries of the prison. Two turnkeys, an inspector, and three or four + guards, made their appearance all at once, and found Cornelius still using + the stick, with the knife under his foot. + </p> + <p> + At the sight of these witnesses, who could not know all the circumstances + which had provoked and might justify his offence, Cornelius felt that he + was irretrievably lost. + </p> + <p> + In fact, appearances were sadly against him. + </p> + <p> + In one moment Cornelius was disarmed, and Gryphus raised and supported; + and, bellowing with rage and pain, he was able to count on his back and + shoulders the bruises which were beginning to swell like the hills dotting + the slopes of a mountain ridge. + </p> + <p> + A protocol of the violence practiced by the prisoner against his jailer + was immediately drawn up, and as it was made on the depositions of + Gryphus, it certainly could not be said to be too tame; the prisoner being + charged with neither more nor less than with an attempt to murder, for a + long time premeditated, with open rebellion. + </p> + <p> + Whilst the charge was made out against Cornelius, Gryphus, whose presence + was no longer necessary after having made his depositions, was taken down + by his turnkeys to his lodge, groaning and covered with bruises. + </p> + <p> + During this time, the guards who had seized Cornelius busied themselves in + charitably informing their prisoner of the usages and customs of + Loewestein, which however he knew as well as they did. The regulations had + been read to him at the moment of his entering the prison, and certain + articles in them remained fixed in his memory. + </p> + <p> + Among other things they told him that this regulation had been carried out + to its full extent in the case of a prisoner named Mathias, who in 1668, + that is to say, five years before, had committed a much less violent act + of rebellion than that of which Cornelius was guilty. He had found his + soup too hot, and thrown it at the head of the chief turnkey, who in + consequence of this ablution had been put to the inconvenience of having + his skin come off as he wiped his face. + </p> + <p> + Mathias was taken within twelve hours from his cell, then led to the + jailer’s lodge, where he was registered as leaving Loewestein, then taken + to the Esplanade, from which there is a very fine prospect over a wide + expanse of country. There they fettered his hands, bandaged his eyes, and + let him say his prayers. + </p> + <p> + Hereupon he was invited to go down on his knees, and the guards of + Loewestein, twelve in number, at a sign from a sergeant, very cleverly + lodged a musket-ball each in his body. + </p> + <p> + In consequence of this proceeding, Mathias incontinently did then and + there die. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius listened with the greatest attention to this delightful recital, + and then said,— + </p> + <p> + “Ah! ah! within twelve hours, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the twelfth hour had not even struck, if I remember right,” said the + guard who had told him the story. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + The guard still had the smile on his face with which he accompanied and as + it were accentuated his tale, when footsteps and a jingling of spurs were + heard ascending the stair-case. + </p> + <p> + The guards fell back to allow an officer to pass, who entered the cell of + Cornelius at the moment when the clerk of Loewestein was still making out + his report. + </p> + <p> + “Is this No. 11?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Captain,” answered a non-commissioned officer. + </p> + <p> + “Then this is the cell of the prisoner Cornelius van Baerle?” + </p> + <p> + “Exactly, Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the prisoner?” + </p> + <p> + “Here I am, sir,” answered Cornelius, growing rather pale, notwithstanding + all his courage. + </p> + <p> + “You are Dr. Cornelius van Baerle?” asked he, this time addressing the + prisoner himself. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then follow me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! oh!” said Cornelius, whose heart felt oppressed by the first dread of + death. “What quick work they make here in the fortress of Loewestein. And + the rascal talked to me of twelve hours!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! what did I tell you?” whispered the communicative guard in the ear of + the culprit. + </p> + <p> + “A lie.” + </p> + <p> + “How so?” + </p> + <p> + “You promised me twelve hours.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, but here comes to you an aide-de-camp of his Highness, even one + of his most intimate companions Van Deken. Zounds! they did not grant such + an honour to poor Mathias.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, come!” said Cornelius, drawing a long breath. “Come, I’ll show to + these people that an honest burgher, godson of Cornelius de Witt, can + without flinching receive as many musket-balls as that Mathias.” + </p> + <p> + Saying this, he passed proudly before the clerk, who, being interrupted in + his work, ventured to say to the officer,— + </p> + <p> + “But, Captain van Deken, the protocol is not yet finished.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not worth while finishing it,” answered the officer. + </p> + <p> + “All right,” replied the clerk, philosophically putting up his paper and + pen into a greasy and well-worn writing-case. + </p> + <p> + “It was written,” thought poor Cornelius, “that I should not in this world + give my name either to a child to a flower, or to a book,—the three + things by which a man’s memory is perpetuated.” + </p> + <p> + Repressing his melancholy thoughts, he followed the officer with a + resolute heart, and carrying his head erect. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius counted the steps which led to the Esplanade, regretting that he + had not asked the guard how many there were of them, which the man, in his + official complaisance, would not have failed to tell him. + </p> + <p> + What the poor prisoner was most afraid of during this walk, which he + considered as leading him to the end of the journey of life, was to see + Gryphus and not to see Rosa. What savage satisfaction would glisten in the + eyes of the father, and what sorrow dim those of the daughter! + </p> + <p> + How Gryphus would glory in his punishment! Punishment? Rather savage + vengeance for an eminently righteous deed, which Cornelius had the + satisfaction of having performed as a bounden duty. + </p> + <p> + But Rosa, poor girl! must he die without a glimpse of her, without an + opportunity to give her one last kiss, or even to say one last word of + farewell? + </p> + <p> + And, worst of all, must he die without any intelligence of the black + tulip, and regain his consciousness in heaven with no idea in what + direction he should look to find it? + </p> + <p> + In truth, to restrain his tears at such a crisis the poor wretch’s heart + must have been encased in more of the aes triplex—“the triple brass”—than + Horace bestows upon the sailor who first visited the terrifying + Acroceraunian shoals. + </p> + <p> + In vain did Cornelius look to the right and to the left; he saw no sign + either of Rosa or Gryphus. + </p> + <p> + On reaching the Esplanade, he bravely looked about for the guards who were + to be his executioners, and in reality saw a dozen soldiers assembled. But + they were not standing in line, or carrying muskets, but talking together + so gayly that Cornelius felt almost shocked. + </p> + <p> + All at once, Gryphus, limping, staggering, and supporting himself on a + crooked stick, came forth from the jailer’s lodge; his old eyes, gray as + those of a cat, were lit up by a gleam in which all his hatred was + concentrated. He then began to pour forth such a torrent of disgusting + imprecations against Cornelius, that the latter, addressing the officer, + said,— + </p> + <p> + “I do not think it very becoming sir, that I should be thus insulted by + this man, especially at a moment like this.” + </p> + <p> + “Well! hear me,” said the officer, laughing, “it is quite natural that + this worthy fellow should bear you a grudge,—you seem to have given + it him very soundly.” + </p> + <p> + “But, sir, it was only in self-defence.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said the Captain, shrugging his shoulders like a true + philosopher, “let him talk; what does it matter to you now?” + </p> + <p> + The cold sweat stood on the brow of Cornelius at this answer, which he + looked upon somewhat in the light of brutal irony, especially as coming + from an officer of whom he had heard it said that he was attached to the + person of the Prince. + </p> + <p> + The unfortunate tulip-fancier then felt that he had no more resources, and + no more friends, and resigned himself to his fate. + </p> + <p> + “God’s will be done,” he muttered, bowing his head; then, turning towards + the officer, who seemed complacently to wait until he had finished his + meditations he asked,— + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir, tell me now, where am I to go?” + </p> + <p> + The officer pointed to a carriage, drawn by four horses, which reminded + him very strongly of that which, under similar circumstances, had before + attracted his attention at Buytenhof. + </p> + <p> + “Enter,” said the officer. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” muttered Cornelius to himself, “it seems they are not going to treat + me to the honours of the Esplanade.” + </p> + <p> + He uttered these words loud enough for the chatty guard, who was at his + heels, to overhear him. + </p> + <p> + That kind soul very likely thought it his duty to give Cornelius some new + information; for, approaching the door of the carriage, whilst the + officer, with one foot on the step, was still giving some orders, he + whispered to Van Baerle,— + </p> + <p> + “Condémned prisoners have sometimes been taken to their own town to be + made an example of, and have then been executed before the door of their + own house. It’s all according to circumstances.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius thanked him by signs, and then said to himself,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, here is a fellow who never misses giving consolation whenever an + opportunity presents itself. In truth, my friend, I’m very much obliged to + you. Goodbye.” + </p> + <p> + The carriage drove away. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! you villain, you brigand,” roared Gryphus, clinching his fists at the + victim who was escaping from his clutches, “is it not a shame that this + fellow gets off without having restored my daughter to me?” + </p> + <p> + “If they take me to Dort,” thought Cornelius, “I shall see, in passing my + house, whether my poor borders have been much spoiled.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 30. Wherein the Reader begins to guess the Kind of Execution that + was awaiting Van Baerle + </h2> + <p> + The carriage rolled on during the whole day; it passed on the right of + Dort, went through Rotterdam, and reached Delft. At five o’clock in the + evening, at least twenty leagues had been travelled. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius addressed some questions to the officer, who was at the same + time his guard and his companion; but, cautious as were his inquiries, he + had the disappointment of receiving no answer. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius regretted that he had no longer by his side the chatty soldier, + who would talk without being questioned. + </p> + <p> + That obliging person would undoubtedly have given him as pleasant details + and exact explanations concerning this third strange part of his + adventures as he had done concerning the first two. + </p> + <p> + The travellers passed the night in the carriage. On the following morning + at dawn Cornelius found himself beyond Leyden, having the North Sea on his + left, and the Zuyder Zee on his right. + </p> + <p> + Three hours after, he entered Haarlem. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius was not aware of what had passed at Haarlem, and we shall leave + him in ignorance of it until the course of events enlightens him. + </p> + <p> + But the reader has a right to know all about it even before our hero, and + therefore we shall not make him wait. + </p> + <p> + We have seen that Rosa and the tulip, like two orphan sisters, had been + left by Prince William of Orange at the house of the President van + Systens. + </p> + <p> + Rosa did not hear again from the Stadtholder until the evening of that day + on which she had seen him face to face. + </p> + <p> + Toward evening, an officer called at Van Systen’s house. He came from his + Highness, with a request for Rosa to appear at the Town Hall. + </p> + <p> + There, in the large Council Room into which she was ushered, she found the + Prince writing. + </p> + <p> + He was alone, with a large Frisian greyhound at his feet, which looked at + him with a steady glance, as if the faithful animal were wishing to do + what no man could do,—read the thoughts of his master in his face. + </p> + <p> + William continued his writing for a moment; then, raising his eyes, and + seeing Rosa standing near the door, he said, without laying down his pen,— + </p> + <p> + “Come here, my child.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa advanced a few steps towards the table. + </p> + <p> + “Sit down,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Rosa obeyed, for the Prince was fixing his eyes upon her, but he had + scarcely turned them again to his paper when she bashfully retired to the + door. + </p> + <p> + The Prince finished his letter. + </p> + <p> + During this time, the greyhound went up to Rosa, surveyed her and began to + caress her. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ah!” said William to his dog, “it’s easy to see that she is a + countrywoman of yours, and that you recognise her.” + </p> + <p> + Then, turning towards Rosa, and fixing on her his scrutinising, and at the + same time impenetrable glance, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Now, my child.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince was scarcely twenty-three, and Rosa eighteen or twenty. He + might therefore perhaps better have said, My sister. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” he said, with that strangely commanding accent which chilled + all those who approached him, “we are alone; let us speak together.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa began to tremble, and yet there was nothing but kindness in the + expression of the Prince’s face. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” she stammered. + </p> + <p> + “You have a father at Loewestein?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, your Highness.” + </p> + <p> + “You do not love him?” + </p> + <p> + “I do not; at least, not as a daughter ought to do, Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “It is not right not to love one’s father, but it is right not to tell a + falsehood.” + </p> + <p> + Rosa cast her eyes to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “What is the reason of your not loving your father?” + </p> + <p> + “He is wicked.” + </p> + <p> + “In what way does he show his wickedness?” + </p> + <p> + “He ill-treats the prisoners.” + </p> + <p> + “All of them?” + </p> + <p> + “All.” + </p> + <p> + “But don’t you bear him a grudge for ill-treating some one in particular?” + </p> + <p> + “My father ill-treats in particular Mynheer van Baerle, who——” + </p> + <p> + “Who is your lover?” + </p> + <p> + Rosa started back a step. + </p> + <p> + “Whom I love, Monseigneur,” she answered proudly. + </p> + <p> + “Since when?” asked the Prince. + </p> + <p> + “Since the day when I first saw him.” + </p> + <p> + “And when was that?” + </p> + <p> + “The day after that on which the Grand Pensionary John and his brother + Cornelius met with such an awful death.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince compressed his lips, and knit his brow and his eyelids dropped + so as to hide his eyes for an instant. After a momentary silence, he + resumed the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “But to what can it lead to love a man who is doomed to live and die in + prison?” + </p> + <p> + “It will lead, if he lives and dies in prison, to my aiding him in life + and in death.” + </p> + <p> + “And would you accept the lot of being the wife of a prisoner?” + </p> + <p> + “As the wife of Mynheer van Baerle, I should, under any circumstances, be + the proudest and happiest woman in the world; but——” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “I dare not say, Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “There is something like hope in your tone; what do you hope?” + </p> + <p> + She raised her moist and beautiful eyes, and looked at William with a + glance full of meaning, which was calculated to stir up in the recesses of + his heart the clemency which was slumbering there. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I understand you,” he said. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, with a smile, clasped her hands. + </p> + <p> + “You hope in me?” said the Prince. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monseigneur.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph!” + </p> + <p> + The Prince sealed the letter which he had just written, and summoned one + of his officers, to whom he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Captain van Deken, carry this despatch to Loewestein; you will read the + orders which I give to the Governor, and execute them as far as they + regard you.” + </p> + <p> + The officer bowed, and a few minutes afterwards the gallop of a horse was + heard resounding in the vaulted archway. + </p> + <p> + “My child,” continued the Prince, “the feast of the tulip will be on + Sunday next, that is to say, the day after to-morrow. Make yourself smart + with these five hundred guilders, as I wish that day to be a great day for + you.” + </p> + <p> + “How does your Highness wish me to be dressed?” faltered Rosa. + </p> + <p> + “Take the costume of a Frisian bride.” said William; “it will suit you + very well indeed.” + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 31. Haarlem + </h2> + <p> + Haarlem, whither, three days ago, we conducted our gentle reader, and + whither we request him to follow us once more in the footsteps of the + prisoner, is a pleasant city, which justly prides itself on being one of + the most shady in all the Netherlands. + </p> + <p> + While other towns boast of the magnificence of their arsenals and + dock-yards, and the splendour of their shops and markets, Haarlem’s claims + to fame rest upon her superiority to all other provincial cities in the + number and beauty of her spreading elms, graceful poplars, and, more than + all, upon her pleasant walks, shaded by the lovely arches of magnificent + oaks, lindens, and chestnuts. + </p> + <p> + Haarlem,—just as her neighbour, Leyden, became the centre of + science, and her queen, Amsterdam, that of commerce,—Haarlem + preferred to be the agricultural, or, more strictly speaking, the + horticultural metropolis. + </p> + <p> + In fact, girt about as she was, breezy and exposed to the sun’s hot rays, + she seemed to offer to gardeners so many more guarantees of success than + other places, with their heavy sea air, and their scorching heat. + </p> + <p> + On this account all the serene souls who loved the earth and its fruits + had gradually gathered together at Haarlem, just as all the nervous, + uneasy spirits, whose ambition was for travel and commerce, had settled in + Rotterdam and Amsterdam, and all the politicians and selfish worldlings at + the Hague. + </p> + <p> + We have observed that Leyden overflowed with scholars. In like manner + Haarlem was devoted to the gentle pursuits of peace,—to music and + painting, orchards and avenues, groves and parks. Haarlem went wild about + flowers, and tulips received their full share of worship. + </p> + <p> + Haarlem offered prizes for tulip-growing; and this fact brings us in the + most natural manner to that celebration which the city intended to hold on + May 15th, 1673 in honour of the great black tulip, immaculate and perfect, + which should gain for its discoverer one hundred thousand guilders! + </p> + <p> + Haarlem, having placed on exhibition its favourite, having advertised its + love of flowers in general and of tulips in particular, at a period when + the souls of men were filled with war and sedition,—Haarlem, having + enjoyed the exquisite pleasure of admiring the very purest ideal of tulips + in full bloom,—Haarlem, this tiny town, full of trees and of + sunshine, of light and shade, had determined that the ceremony of + bestowing the prize should be a fete which should live for ever in the + memory of men. + </p> + <p> + So much the more reason was there, too, in her determination, in that + Holland is the home of fetes; never did sluggish natures manifest more + eager energy of the singing and dancing sort than those of the good + republicans of the Seven Provinces when amusement was the order of the + day. + </p> + <p> + Study the pictures of the two Teniers. + </p> + <p> + It is certain that sluggish folk are of all men the most earnest in tiring + themselves, not when they are at work, but at play. + </p> + <p> + Thus Haarlem was thrice given over to rejoicing, for a three-fold + celebration was to take place. + </p> + <p> + In the first place, the black tulip had been produced; secondly, the + Prince William of Orange, as a true Hollander, had promised to be present + at the ceremony of its inauguration; and, thirdly, it was a point of + honour with the States to show to the French, at the conclusion of such a + disastrous war as that of 1672, that the flooring of the Batavian Republic + was solid enough for its people to dance on it, with the accompaniment of + the cannon of their fleets. + </p> + <p> + The Horticultural Society of Haarlem had shown itself worthy of its fame + by giving a hundred thousand guilders for the bulb of a tulip. The town, + which did not wish to be outdone, voted a like sum, which was placed in + the hands of that notable body to solemnise the auspicious event. + </p> + <p> + And indeed on the Sunday fixed for this ceremony there was such a stir + among the people, and such an enthusiasm among the townsfolk, that even a + Frenchman, who laughs at everything at all times, could not have helped + admiring the character of those honest Hollanders, who were equally ready + to spend their money for the construction of a man-of-war—that is to + say, for the support of national honour—as they were to reward the + growth of a new flower, destined to bloom for one day, and to serve during + that day to divert the ladies, the learned, and the curious. + </p> + <p> + At the head of the notables and of the Horticultural Committee shone + Mynheer van Systens, dressed in his richest habiliments. + </p> + <p> + The worthy man had done his best to imitate his favourite flower in the + sombre and stern elegance of his garments; and we are bound to record, to + his honour, that he had perfectly succeeded in his object. + </p> + <p> + Dark crimson velvet, dark purple silk, and jet-black cloth, with linen of + dazzling whiteness, composed the festive dress of the President, who + marched at the head of his Committee carrying an enormous nosegay, like + that which a hundred and twenty-one years later, Monsieur de Robespierre + displayed at the festival of “The Supreme Being.” + </p> + <p> + There was, however, a little difference between the two; very different + from the French tribune, whose heart was so full of hatred and ambitious + vindictiveness, was the honest President, who carried in his bosom a heart + as innocent as the flowers which he held in his hand. + </p> + <p> + Behind the Committee, who were as gay as a meadow, and as fragrant as a + garden in spring, marched the learned societies of the town, the + magistrates, the military, the nobles and the boors. + </p> + <p> + The people, even among the respected republicans of the Seven Provinces, + had no place assigned to them in the procession; they merely lined the + streets. + </p> + <p> + This is the place for the multitude, which with true philosophic spirit, + waits until the triumphal pageants have passed, to know what to say of + them, and sometimes also to know what to do. + </p> + <p> + This time, however, there was no question either of the triumph of Pompey + or of Cæsar; neither of the defeat of Mithridates, nor of the conquest of + Gaul. The procession was as placid as the passing of a flock of lambs, and + as inoffensive as a flight of birds sweeping through the air. + </p> + <p> + Haarlem had no other triumphers, except its gardeners. Worshipping + flowers, Haarlem idolised the florist. + </p> + <p> + In the centre of this pacific and fragrant cortege the black tulip was + seen, carried on a litter, which was covered with white velvet and fringed + with gold. + </p> + <p> + The handles of the litter were supported by four men, who were from time + to time relieved by fresh relays,—even as the bearers of Mother + Cybele used to take turn and turn about at Rome in the ancient days, when + she was brought from Etruria to the Eternal City, amid the blare of + trumpets and the worship of a whole nation. + </p> + <p> + This public exhibition of the tulip was an act of adoration rendered by an + entire nation, unlettered and unrefined, to the refinement and culture of + its illustrious and devout leaders, whose blood had stained the foul + pavement of the Buytenhof, reserving the right at a future day to inscribe + the names of its victims upon the highest stone of the Dutch Pantheon. + </p> + <p> + It was arranged that the Prince Stadtholder himself should give the prize + of a hundred thousand guilders, which interested the people at large, and + it was thought that perhaps he would make a speech which interested more + particularly his friends and enemies. + </p> + <p> + For in the most insignificant words of men of political importance their + friends and their opponents always endeavour to detect, and hence think + they can interpret, something of their true thoughts. + </p> + <p> + As if your true politician’s hat were not a bushel under which he always + hides his light! + </p> + <p> + At length the great and long-expected day—May 15, 1673—arrived; + and all Haarlem, swelled by her neighbours, was gathered in the beautiful + tree-lined streets, determined on this occasion not to waste its applause + upon military heroes, or those who had won notable victories in the field + of science, but to reserve their applause for those who had overcome + Nature, and had forced the inexhaustible mother to be delivered of what + had theretofore been regarded as impossible,—a completely black + tulip. + </p> + <p> + Nothing however, is more fickle than such a resolution of the people. When + a crowd is once in the humour to cheer, it is just the same as when it + begins to hiss. It never knows when to stop. + </p> + <p> + It therefore, in the first place, cheered Van Systens and his nosegay, + then the corporation, then followed a cheer for the people; and, at last, + and for once with great justice, there was one for the excellent music + with which the gentlemen of the town councils generously treated the + assemblage at every halt. + </p> + <p> + Every eye was looking eagerly for the heroine of the festival,—that + is to say, the black tulip,—and for its hero in the person of the + one who had grown it. + </p> + <p> + In case this hero should make his appearance after the address we have + seen worthy Van Systens at work on so conscientiously, he would not fail + to make as much of a sensation as the Stadtholder himself. + </p> + <p> + But the interest of the day’s proceedings for us is centred neither in the + learned discourse of our friend Van Systens, however eloquent it might be, + nor in the young dandies, resplendent in their Sunday clothes, and + munching their heavy cakes; nor in the poor young peasants, gnawing smoked + eels as if they were sticks of vanilla sweetmeat; neither is our interest + in the lovely Dutch girls, with red cheeks and ivory bosoms; nor in the + fat, round mynheers, who had never left their homes before; nor in the + sallow, thin travellers from Ceylon or Java; nor in the thirsty crowds, + who quenched their thirst with pickled cucumbers;—no, so far as we + are concerned, the real interest of the situation, the fascinating, + dramatic interest, is not to be found here. + </p> + <p> + Our interest is in a smiling, sparkling face to be seen amid the members + of the Horticultural Committee; in the person with a flower in his belt, + combed and brushed, and all clad in scarlet,—a colour which makes + his black hair and yellow skin stand out in violent contrast. + </p> + <p> + This hero, radiant with rapturous joy, who had the distinguished honour of + making the people forget the speech of Van Systens, and even the presence + of the Stadtholder, was Isaac Boxtel, who saw, carried on his right before + him, the black tulip, his pretended daughter; and on his left, in a large + purse, the hundred thousand guilders in glittering gold pieces, towards + which he was constantly squinting, fearful of losing sight of them for one + moment. + </p> + <p> + Now and then Boxtel quickened his step to rub elbows for a moment with Van + Systens. He borrowed a little importance from everybody to make a kind of + false importance for himself, as he had stolen Rosa’s tulip to effect his + own glory, and thereby make his fortune. + </p> + <p> + Another quarter of an hour and the Prince will arrive and the procession + will halt for the last time; after the tulip is placed on its throne, the + Prince, yielding precedence to this rival for the popular adoration, will + take a magnificently emblazoned parchment, on which is written the name of + the grower; and his Highness, in a loud and audible tone, will proclaim + him to be the discoverer of a wonder; that Holland, by the instrumentality + of him, Boxtel, has forced Nature to produce a black flower, which shall + henceforth be called Tulipa nigra Boxtellea. + </p> + <p> + From time to time, however, Boxtel withdrew his eyes for a moment from the + tulip and the purse, timidly looking among the crowd, for more than + anything he dreaded to descry there the pale face of the pretty Frisian + girl. + </p> + <p> + She would have been a spectre spoiling the joy of the festival for him, + just as Banquo’s ghost did that of Macbeth. + </p> + <p> + And yet, if the truth must be told, this wretch, who had stolen what was + the boast of man, and the dowry of a woman, did not consider himself as a + thief. He had so intently watched this tulip, followed it so eagerly from + the drawer in Cornelius’s dry-room to the scaffold of the Buytenhof, and + from the scaffold to the fortress of Loewestein; he had seen it bud and + grow in Rosa’s window, and so often warmed the air round it with his + breath, that he felt as if no one had a better right to call himself its + producer than he had; and any one who would now take the black tulip from + him would have appeared to him as a thief. + </p> + <p> + Yet he did not perceive Rosa; his joy therefore was not spoiled. + </p> + <p> + In the centre of a circle of magnificent trees, which were decorated with + garlands and inscriptions, the procession halted, amidst the sounds of + lively music, and the young damsels of Haarlem made their appearance to + escort the tulip to the raised seat which it was to occupy on the + platform, by the side of the gilded chair of his Highness the Stadtholder. + </p> + <p> + And the proud tulip, raised on its pedestal, soon overlooked the assembled + crowd of people, who clapped their hands, and made the old town of Haarlem + re-echo with their tremendous cheers. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 32. A Last Request + </h2> + <p> + At this solemn moment, and whilst the cheers still resounded, a carriage + was driving along the road on the outskirts of the green on which the + scene occurred; it pursued its way slowly, on account of the flocks of + children who were pushed out of the avenue by the crowd of men and women. + </p> + <p> + This carriage, covered with dust, and creaking on its axles, the result of + a long journey, enclosed the unfortunate Van Baerle, who was just + beginning to get a glimpse through the open window of the scene which we + have tried—with poor success, no doubt—to present to the eyes + of the reader. + </p> + <p> + The crowd and the noise and the display of artificial and natural + magnificence were as dazzling to the prisoner as a ray of light flashing + suddenly into his dungeon. + </p> + <p> + Notwithstanding the little readiness which his companion had shown in + answering his questions concerning his fate, he ventured once more to ask + the meaning of all this bustle, which at first sight seemed to be utterly + disconnected with his own affairs. + </p> + <p> + “What is all this, pray, Mynheer Lieutenant?” he asked of his conductor. + </p> + <p> + “As you may see, sir,” replied the officer, “it is a feast.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, a feast,” said Cornelius, in the sad tone of indifference of a man to + whom no joy remains in this world. + </p> + <p> + Then, after some moments, silence, during which the carriage had proceeded + a few yards, he asked once more,— + </p> + <p> + “The feast of the patron saint of Haarlem? as I see so many flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “It is, indeed, a feast in which flowers play a principal part.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the sweet scents! oh, the beautiful colours!” cried Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “Stop, that the gentleman may see,” said the officer, with that frank + kindliness which is peculiar to military men, to the soldier who was + acting as postilion. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, thank you, Sir, for your kindness,” replied Van Baerle, in a + melancholy tone; “the joy of others pains me; please spare me this pang.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as you wish. Drive on! I ordered the driver to stop because I + thought it would please you, as you are said to love flowers, and + especially that the feast of which is celebrated to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “And what flower is that?” + </p> + <p> + “The tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “The tulip!” cried Van Baerle, “is to-day the feast of tulips?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; but as this spectacle displeases you, let us drive on.” + </p> + <p> + The officer was about to give the order to proceed, but Cornelius stopped + him, a painful thought having struck him. He asked, with faltering voice,— + </p> + <p> + “Is the prize given to-day, sir?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the prize for the black tulip.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius’s cheek flushed, his whole frame trembled, and the cold sweat + stood on his brow. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! sir,” he said, “all these good people will be as unfortunate as + myself, for they will not see the solemnity which they have come to + witness, or at least they will see it incompletely.” + </p> + <p> + “What is it you mean to say?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean to say,” replied Cornelius, throwing himself back in the carriage, + “that the black tulip will not be found, except by one whom I know.” + </p> + <p> + “In this case,” said the officer, “the person whom you know has found it, + for the thing which the whole of Haarlem is looking at at this moment is + neither more nor less than the black tulip.” + </p> + <p> + “The black tulip!” replied Van Baerle, thrusting half his body out of the + carriage window. “Where is it? where is it?” + </p> + <p> + “Down there on the throne,—don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + “I do see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Come along, sir,” said the officer. “Now we must drive off.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, have pity, have mercy, sir!” said Van Baerle, “don’t take me away! + Let me look once more! Is what I see down there the black tulip? Quite + black? Is it possible? Oh, sir, have you seen it? It must have specks, it + must be imperfect, it must only be dyed black. Ah! if I were there, I + should see it at once. Let me alight, let me see it close, I beg of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad, Sir? How could I allow such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + “I implore you.” + </p> + <p> + “But you forget that you are a prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + “It is true I am a prisoner, but I am a man of honour, and I promise you + on my word that I will not run away, I will not attempt to escape,—only + let me see the flower.” + </p> + <p> + “But my orders, Sir, my orders.” And the officer again made the driver a + sign to proceed. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius stopped him once more. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, be forbearing, be generous! my whole life depends upon your pity. + Alas! perhaps it will not be much longer. You don’t know, sir, what I + suffer. You don’t know the struggle going on in my heart and mind. For + after all,” Cornelius cried in despair, “if this were my tulip, if it were + the one which has been stolen from Rosa! Oh, I must alight, sir! I must + see the flower! You may kill me afterwards if you like, but I will see it, + I must see it.” + </p> + <p> + “Be quiet, unfortunate man, and come quickly back into the carriage, for + here is the escort of his Highness the Stadtholder, and if the Prince + observed any disturbance, or heard any noise, it would be ruin to me, as + well as to you.” + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle, more afraid for his companion than himself, threw himself back + into the carriage, but he could only keep quiet for half a minute, and the + first twenty horsemen had scarcely passed when he again leaned out of the + carriage window, gesticulating imploringly towards the Stadtholder at the + very moment when he passed. + </p> + <p> + William, impassible and quiet as usual, was proceeding to the green to + fulfil his duty as chairman. He held in his hand the roll of parchment, + which, on this festive day, had become his baton. + </p> + <p> + Seeing the man gesticulate with imploring mien, and perhaps also + recognising the officer who accompanied him, his Highness ordered his + carriage to stop. + </p> + <p> + In an instant his snorting steeds stood still, at a distance of about six + yards from the carriage in which Van Baerle was caged. + </p> + <p> + “What is this?” the Prince asked the officer, who at the first order of + the Stadtholder had jumped out of the carriage, and was respectfully + approaching him. + </p> + <p> + “Monseigneur,” he cried, “this is the prisoner of state whom I have + fetched from Loewestein, and whom I have brought to Haarlem according to + your Highness’s command.” + </p> + <p> + “What does he want?” + </p> + <p> + “He entreats for permission to stop here for minute.” + </p> + <p> + “To see the black tulip, Monseigneur,” said Van Baerle, clasping his + hands, “and when I have seen it, when I have seen what I desire to know, I + am quite ready to die, if die I must; but in dying I shall bless your + Highness’s mercy for having allowed me to witness the glorification of my + work.” + </p> + <p> + It was, indeed, a curious spectacle to see these two men at the windows of + their several carriages; the one surrounded by his guards, and all + powerful, the other a prisoner and miserable; the one going to mount a + throne, the other believing himself to be on his way to the scaffold. + </p> + <p> + William, looking with his cold glance on Cornelius, listened to his + anxious and urgent request. + </p> + <p> + Then addressing himself to the officer, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Is this person the mutinous prisoner who has attempted to kill his jailer + at Loewestein?” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius heaved a sigh and hung his head. His good-tempered honest face + turned pale and red at the same instant. These words of the all-powerful + Prince, who by some secret messenger unavailable to other mortals had + already been apprised of his crime, seemed to him to forebode not only his + doom, but also the refusal of his last request. + </p> + <p> + He did not try to make a struggle, or to defend himself; and he presented + to the Prince the affecting spectacle of despairing innocence, like that + of a child,—a spectacle which was fully understood and felt by the + great mind and the great heart of him who observed it. + </p> + <p> + “Allow the prisoner to alight, and let him see the black tulip; it is well + worth being seen once.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Monseigneur, thank you,” said Cornelius, nearly swooning with + joy, and staggering on the steps of his carriage; had not the officer + supported him, our poor friend would have made his thanks to his Highness + prostrate on his knees with his forehead in the dust. + </p> + <p> + After having granted this permission, the Prince proceeded on his way over + the green amidst the most enthusiastic acclamations. + </p> + <p> + He soon arrived at the platform, and the thunder of cannon shook the air. + </p> + <p> + <a id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br><br><br><br> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 33. Conclusion + </h2> + <p> + Van Baerle, led by four guards, who pushed their way through the crowd, + sidled up to the black tulip, towards which his gaze was attracted with + increasing interest the nearer he approached to it. + </p> + <p> + He saw it at last, that unique flower, which he was to see once and no + more. He saw it at the distance of six paces, and was delighted with its + perfection and gracefulness; he saw it surrounded by young and beautiful + girls, who formed, as it were, a guard of honour for this queen of + excellence and purity. And yet, the more he ascertained with his own eyes + the perfection of the flower, the more wretched and miserable he felt. He + looked all around for some one to whom he might address only one question, + but his eyes everywhere met strange faces, and the attention of all was + directed towards the chair of state, on which the Stadtholder had seated + himself. + </p> + <p> + William rose, casting a tranquil glance over the enthusiastic crowd, and + his keen eyes rested by turns on the three extremities of a triangle + formed opposite to him by three persons of very different interests and + feelings. + </p> + <p> + At one of the angles, Boxtel, trembling with impatience, and quite + absorbed in watching the Prince, the guilders, the black tulip, and the + crowd. + </p> + <p> + At the other, Cornelius, panting for breath, silent, and his attention, + his eyes, his life, his heart, his love, quite concentrated on the black + tulip. + </p> + <p> + And thirdly, standing on a raised step among the maidens of Haarlem, a + beautiful Frisian girl, dressed in fine scarlet woollen cloth, embroidered + with silver, and covered with a lace veil, which fell in rich folds from + her head-dress of gold brocade; in one word, Rosa, who, faint and with + swimming eyes, was leaning on the arm of one of the officers of William. + </p> + <p> + The Prince then slowly unfolded the parchment, and said, with a calm clear + voice, which, although low, made itself perfectly heard amidst the + respectful silence, which all at once arrested the breath of fifty + thousand spectators:— + </p> + <p> + “You know what has brought us here? + </p> + <p> + “A prize of one hundred thousand guilders has been promised to whosoever + should grow the black tulip. + </p> + <p> + “The black tulip has been grown; here it is before your eyes, coming up to + all the conditions required by the programme of the Horticultural Society + of Haarlem. + </p> + <p> + “The history of its production, and the name of its grower, will be + inscribed in the book of honour of the city. + </p> + <p> + “Let the person approach to whom the black tulip belongs.” + </p> + <p> + In pronouncing these words, the Prince, to judge of the effect they + produced, surveyed with his eagle eye the three extremities of the + triangle. + </p> + <p> + He saw Boxtel rushing forward. He saw Cornelius make an involuntary + movement; and lastly he saw the officer who was taking care of Rosa lead, + or rather push her forward towards him. + </p> + <p> + At the sight of Rosa, a double cry arose on the right and left of the + Prince. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, thunderstruck, and Cornelius, in joyful amazement, both exclaimed,— + </p> + <p> + “Rosa! Rosa!” + </p> + <p> + “This tulip is yours, is it not, my child?” said the Prince. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Monseigneur,” stammered Rosa, whose striking beauty excited a + general murmur of applause. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” muttered Cornelius, “she has then belied me, when she said this + flower was stolen from her. Oh! that’s why she left Loewestein. Alas! am I + then forgotten, betrayed by her whom I thought my best friend on earth?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” sighed Boxtel, “I am lost.” + </p> + <p> + “This tulip,” continued the Prince, “will therefore bear the name of its + producer, and figure in the catalogue under the title, Tulipa nigra Rosa + Barlœnsis, because of the name Van Baerle, which will henceforth be the + name of this damsel.” + </p> + <p> + And at the same time William took Rosa’s hand, and placed it in that of a + young man, who rushed forth, pale and beyond himself with joy, to the foot + of the throne saluting alternately the Prince and his bride; and who with + a grateful look to heaven, returned his thanks to the Giver of all this + happiness. + </p> + <p> + At the same moment there fell at the feet of the President van Systens + another man, struck down by a very different emotion. + </p> + <p> + Boxtel, crushed by the failure of his hopes, lay senseless on the ground. + </p> + <p> + When they raised him, and examined his pulse and his heart, he was quite + dead. + </p> + <p> + This incident did not much disturb the festival, as neither the Prince nor + the President seemed to mind it much. + </p> + <p> + Cornelius started back in dismay, when in the thief, in the pretended + Jacob, he recognised his neighbour, Isaac Boxtel, whom, in the innocence + of his heart, he had not for one instant suspected of such a wicked + action. + </p> + <p> + Then, to the sound of trumpets, the procession marched back without any + change in its order, except that Boxtel was now dead, and that Cornelius + and Rosa were walking triumphantly side by side and hand in hand. + </p> + <p> + On their arriving at the Hôtel de Ville, the Prince, pointing with his + finger to the purse with the hundred thousand guilders, said to Cornelius,— + </p> + <p> + “It is difficult to say by whom this money is gained, by you or by Rosa; + for if you have found the black tulip, she has nursed it and brought it + into flower. It would therefore be unjust to consider it as her dowry; it + is the gift of the town of Haarlem to the tulip.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius wondered what the Prince was driving at. The latter continued,— + </p> + <p> + “I give to Rosa the sum of a hundred thousand guilders, which she has + fairly earned, and which she can offer to you. They are the reward of her + love, her courage, and her honesty. As to you, Sir—thanks to Rosa + again, who has furnished the proofs of your innocence——” + </p> + <p> + And, saying these words, the Prince handed to Cornelius that fly-leaf of + the Bible on which was written the letter of Cornelius de Witt, and in + which the third bulb had been wrapped,— + </p> + <p> + “As to you, it has come to light that you were imprisoned for a crime + which you had not committed. This means, that you are not only free, but + that your property will be restored to you; as the property of an innocent + man cannot be confiscated. Cornelius van Baerle, you are the godson of + Cornelius de Witt and the friend of his brother John. Remain worthy of the + name you have received from one of them, and of the friendship you have + enjoyed with the other. The two De Witts, wrongly judged and wrongly + punished in a moment of popular error, were two great citizens, of whom + Holland is now proud.” + </p> + <p> + The Prince, after these last words, which contrary to his custom, he + pronounced with a voice full of emotion, gave his hands to the lovers to + kiss, whilst they were kneeling before him. + </p> + <p> + Then heaving a sigh, he said,— + </p> + <p> + “Alas! you are very happy, who, dreaming only of what perhaps is the true + glory of Holland, and forms especially her true happiness, do not attempt + to acquire for her anything beyond new colours of tulips.” + </p> + <p> + And, casting a glance towards that point of the compass where France lay, + as if he saw new clouds gathering there, he entered his carriage and drove + off. + </p> +<p> + <br><br> + </p> +<hr> +<p> + <br><br> + </p> + <p> + Cornelius started on the same day for Dort with Rosa, who sent her lover’s + old housekeeper as a messenger to her father, to apprise him of all that + had taken place. + </p> + <p> + Those who, thanks to our description, have learned the character of old + Gryphus, will comprehend that it was hard for him to become reconciled to + his son-in-law. He had not yet forgotten the blows which he had received + in that famous encounter. To judge from the weals which he counted, their + number, he said, amounted to forty-one; but at last, in order, as he + declared, not to be less generous than his Highness the Stadtholder, he + consented to make his peace. + </p> + <p> + Appointed to watch over the tulips, the old man made the rudest keeper of + flowers in the whole of the Seven Provinces. + </p> + <p> + It was indeed a sight to see him watching the obnoxious moths and + butterflies, killing slugs, and driving away the hungry bees. + </p> + <p> + As he had heard Boxtel’s story, and was furious at having been the dupe of + the pretended Jacob, he destroyed the sycamore behind which the envious + Isaac had spied into the garden; for the plot of ground belonging to him + had been bought by Cornelius, and taken into his own garden. + </p> + <p> + Rosa, growing not only in beauty, but in wisdom also, after two years of + her married life, could read and write so well that she was able to + undertake by herself the education of two beautiful children which she had + borne in 1674 and 1675, both in May, the month of flowers. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of course, one was a boy, the other a girl, the former being + called Cornelius, the other Rosa. + </p> + <p> + Van Baerle remained faithfully attached to Rosa and to his tulips. The + whole of his life was devoted to the happiness of his wife and the culture + of flowers, in the latter of which occupations he was so successful that a + great number of his varieties found a place in the catalogue of Holland. + </p> + <p> + The two principal ornaments of his drawing-room were those two leaves from + the Bible of Cornelius de Witt, in large golden frames; one of them + containing the letter in which his godfather enjoined him to burn the + correspondence of the Marquis de Louvois, and the other his own will, in + which he bequeathed to Rosa his bulbs under condition that she should + marry a young man of from twenty-six to twenty-eight years, who loved her + and whom she loved, a condition which was scrupulously fulfilled, + although, or rather because, Cornelius did not die. + </p> + <p> + And to ward off any envious attempts of another Isaac Boxtel, he wrote + over his door the lines which Grotius had, on the day of his flight, + scratched on the walls of his prison:— + </p> + <p> + “Sometimes one has suffered so much that he has the right never to be able + to say, ‘I am too happy.’” + </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 965 ***</div> + </body> +</html> + |