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Van Baerle teaching Rosa to read 



Nelson and Sons 






II. THE Two BROTHERS .... 17 




BOUR . . . . . . -53 



























A LEX AND RE DUMAS, or to give 
A-\ him his full name, Alexandre 
Dumas Davy de la Pailleterie, was 
born at Villers-Cotter&s, dep. Aisne, on 
24th July 1803. His youth -was somewhat 
idle and irregular. In 1823 he went to 
Paris, where he was employed for some 
time as a clerk in the bureau of the Due 
d'' Orleans. Liter attire, however, lured 
him from the drudgery of a clerical calling, 
and fame came to him in 1829, when he 
published " Henri Trois et sa Cour" He 
was a most prodigious worker, and his out- 
put during the ten years between 1844 an( ^ 
1854 is without parallel in literature except, 
perhaps, the wonderful first decade of the 
author of " Waver ley." "La Tulipe 
Noire" which is translated in the follow- 
ing pages, was published in 1850. In 
spite of the vast wealth which his literary 
labours brotight him, Dumas 's career ended 
in poverty. He left Paris for the last time 
with only two napoleons in his possession. 
Retiring to his son's villa at Dieppe, he 
died there on th December 1870. 




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 Buitenhof, 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 Witte, the brother of the Grand Pension- 
ary of Holland, was confined. 

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 
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 understand- 
ing of our story as to that of the great event itself on 
which it is based. 

Cornelius de Witte, warden of the dykes, ex-burgo- 
master 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 Witte, the Grand Pensionary of Hol- 
land, 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 Witte upon the United Provinces. 

As it rarely happens that public opinion in its whim- 
sical 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 Witte, 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, thoughtful image of the young Prince William of 

The brothers De Witte 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. 

Louis XIV. had long been the enemy of the Dutch z 
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 Witte, therefore, had 
to strive against a double difficulty against the force 
of national antipathy, and, besides, against that 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. 

This new chief, quite ready to appear on the political 
stage, and to measure himself against Louis XIV., how- 
ever 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 Mary 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. 

This young man was in 1672 twenty-two years of age. 
John de Witte, 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. 

The Grand Pensionary bowed before the will of his 
fellow-citizens. Cornelius de Witte, 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. 

It was a real miracle that on that day he escaped from 
the doom intended for him. 

John de Witte 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. 

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. 

How rarely does it happen that in the right moment 
a great man is to be found to head the execution of vast 
and noble designs ! but it as rarely happens that, when 
the devil's work is to be done, the miscreant is not at 
hand who readily and at once enters upon the infamous 

The wretched tool in this instance was Tyckelaer, a sur- 
geon by profession. He lodged an information against 
Cornelius de Witte, 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 Stadt- 
holder ; 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. 

This disclosure was, indeed, well calculated to call 
forth a furious outbreak among the Orange faction. The 
Attorney-General caused, on the i6th of August 1672, 
Cornelius de Witte to be arrested ; and the noble brother 
of John de Witte had, like the vilest criminal, to undergo 
in one of the apartments of the town prison the pre- 
paratory degrees of torture by means of which his 
judges expected to force from him the confession of his 
alleged plot against William of Orange. 

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 con- 
viction as their ancestors were to their faith, are able to 
smile on pain. Whilst being stretched on the rack he 
recited with a firm voice, and scanning the lines ac- 
cording 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 

The judges, notwithstanding, acquitted Tyckelaer 
from every charge ; at the same time sentencing Cor- 
nelius to be deposed from all his offices and dignities, 
to pay all the costs of the trial, and to be banished 
the soil of the republic for ever. 

This judgment against not only an innocent, but also 


a great man, was indeed some gratification to the pas- 
sions of the people, to whose interests Cornelius de 
Witte had always devoted himself ; but, 93 we shall soon 
see, it was not enough. 

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. 

John de Witte, at the first intimation of the charge 
brought against his brother, had resigned his office of 
Grand Pensionary. He too received a noble recom- 
pense 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 frssh scars 
of wounds inflicted by assassinsonly 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 

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 
idolized, should have made of the bodies of the brothers 
the two steps over which he might ascend to the chair 
of Stadtholder. 

Well, then, on the 2oth of August 1672, as we have 
already stated in the beginning of this chapter, the whole 
town was crowding towards the Buitenhof to witness 
the departure of Cornelius de Witte 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. 

Yet all this multitude was not crowding to the.Buiten- 


hof 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. 

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 flat- 
tered by it the sight of greatness hurled down into the 

" Has not," they would say, " this Cornelius de Witte 
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 ? 

" 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 not, from the Buitenhof to the gate 
of the town, a nice little opportunity present itself to 
throw some handfuls of dirt, or a few stones, at this Cor- 
nelius de Witte, who not only conferred the dignity of 
Stadtholder on the Prince of Orange merely vi coactus,* 
but who also intended to have him assassinated ? " 

" Besides which," fh fierce enemies of France chimed 
in, " if the work were cfone 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 & brother John on the gold of 
the Marquis de Louvois." 

Being to wicb 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 Buitenhof . 

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 

This daring miscreant detailed, with all the embellish- 
ments and flourishes suggested by his base mind and his 
ruffianly imagination, the attempts which he pretended 
Cornelius de Witte had made to corrupt him the sums 
of money which were promised, and all the diabolical 
stratagems planned beforehand to smooth for him, Tycke- 
laer, all the difficulties in the path of murder. 

And every phrase 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 Witte. 

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 

Some of the agitators whispered, " He will be off ; he 
will escape from us ! " 

Others replied, "A vessel is waiting for him at 
Schevening a French craft. Tyckelaer has seen her." 

"Honest Tyckelaer! Hurrah for Tyckelaer !" the 
mob cried in chonis. 

" 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. K 

" 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." 

" Well, then, don't let us allow them to depart," ad- 
vised one of the patriots who had gained the start of the 

" Forward to the prison, to the prison ! " echoed the 

Among these cries the citizens ran along faster and 
faster, cocking their muskets, brandishing their hatchets, 
and looking death and defiance in all directions, 

No violence, however, had as yet been committed, and 
the file of horsemen who were guarding the approaches 
of the Buitenhof 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 troop of the Hague, 
who had his sword drawn, but held it with its point 
downwards, in a line with the straps of his stirrup. 

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 Buitenhof to 
support the soldiers in keeping order, gave to the rioters 
the example of seditious cries, shouting, 

" Hurrah for Orange ! Down with the traitors ! " 

The presence of Tilly and his horsemen, indeed, exer- 
cised 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 tho dragoons to pusillanimity, 


and advanced one step towards the prison, with all the 
turbulent mob following in their wake. 

In this moment Count Tilly rode forth towards them 
single-handed, merely lifting his sword and contracting 
his brow while he addressed them, 

" Well, gentlemen of the burgher-guard, what are you 
advancing for, and what do you wish ? " 

The burghers shook their muskets, repeating their 

" Hurrah for Orange ! Death to the traitors 1 " 

" ' 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." 

Then turning round to his men, he gave the word of 

" Soldiers, ready ! " 

The troopers obeyed orders with a precision which 
immediately caused the burgher-guard and the people to 
full back in a degree of confusion which excited the smile 
of the cavalry officer. 

" Halloa ! " 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." 

" And do you know, sir, that we have muskets ? " 
roared the commandant of the burghers. 

" 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.' 1 

" Death to the traitors!" cried the exasperated 

" Go along with you," growled the officer ; " you 
always cry the same thing over again. It is very tire- 

With this he took his post at the head of his troops, 
whilst the tumult grew fiercer and fiercer about the 

And yet the fuming crowd did not know that at the 
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 Buitenhof. 

John de Witte, indeed, had alighted from his coach 
with a servant, and quietly walked across the courtyard 
of the prison, 

Mentioning his name to the turnkey who, however, 
knew him he said, 

" 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." 

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. 

Ten yards farther on John de Witte met a lovely young 
girl of about seventeen or eighteen, dressed in the national 
costume of the Frisian women, who with pretty demure- 
ness dropped a curtsy to him. Chucking her under the 
chin, be said to tor, 


" Good-morning, my good and fair Rosa ; how is my 
brother ? " 

" O Mynheer John, sir," the young girl replied, " I 
am not afraid of the harm which has been done to him ; 
that's all over now. 1 ' 

" But what is it you are afraid of ? " 

" I am afraid of the harm which they are going to do 
to him.' 1 

" Oh yes," said De Witte ; " you mean to speak of the 
people down below, don't you ? " 

" Do you hear them ? " 

" 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." 

" That's unfortunately no reason, except for the con- 
trary," muttered the girl, as on an imperative sign from 
her father she withdrew. 

" Indeed, child, what you say is only too true." 

Then, in pursuing his way, he said to himself, 

" 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 his- 
tory of the world." 

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. 



As the fair Rosa with foreboding doubt had foretold, 
so it happened. Whilst John de Witte 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. 

Seeing this disposition, King Mob, who fully appre- 
ciated the laudable intentions of his own beloved militia, 
shouted most lustily, 

" Hurrah for the burghers ! " 

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 com- 
manded him to guard the prison and its approaches with 
three companies. 

" Wherefore such an order ? Why guard the prison ? " 
cried the Orangists. 

" 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." 


" But this order has been given to you that the traitors 
may be enabled to leave the town." 

" Very possibly, as the traitors are condemned to exile/' 
replied Tilly. 

" But who has given this order ? " 

" The States, by George ! " 

" The States are traitors." 

" I don't know anything about that." 

" And you are a traitor yourself." 

" I ? " 

" Yes, you." 

" Well, as to that, let us understand each other, gentle- 
men. Whom should I betray the States? Why, I 
cannot betray them, whilst, being in their pay, I faith- 
fully obey their orders." 

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. 

" 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." 

" If you did that," cried the burghers, " we should 
have a pop at you too." 

" 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/' 

" Then leave the place to us, and you will perform the 
part of a good citizen." 

" First of all," said the Count, " I am not a dike*?, 


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." 

" 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 depu- 
ties. Come along, come along ! " 

" 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, 

The worthy officer relied on the honour of the magis- 
trates, who on their side relied on his honour as a soldier. 

" 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." 

In the meanwhile John de Witte, whom we left climb- 
ing the stairs after his 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 pro- 
nounced, there was no occasion for inflicting the torture 


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. 

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 Buitenhof, 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. 

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. 

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 the walls of the prison as the surf dashing 
against the rocks, now reached the ears of the prisoner. 

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. 

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. 

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 exceeded, not in services rendered to the country, 
but in the hatred which the Dutch bore him. 

John tenderly kissed his brother on the forehead, and 
put his sore hands gently back on the mattress. 

" Cornelius, my poor brother, you are suffering great 
pain, are you not ? " 

" I am suffering no longer since I see you, my brother." 

" Oh, my poor, dear Cornelius, I feel most wretched 
to see you in such a state. " 

" And indeed I have thought more of you than of my- 
self ; 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 ? " 

" I am." 

" I am quite healed. Help me to get up, and you shall 

see how well I can walk." 

" You will not have to walk far, as I have my coach 
near the pond, behind Tilly's dragoons." 

"Tilly's dragoons! what are they near the pond 
for ? " 

"Well," said the Grand Pensionary, with a melancholy 
smile which was habitual to him, " the gentlemen at the 
Town Hall expect that the people of the Hague would 
like to see you depart, and there is some apprehension 
of a tumult." 

" Of a tumult ? " replied Cornelius, fixing his eyes on 
his perplexed brother" a tumult ? " 

"Yes, Cornelius." 

" Oh ! that's what I heard just now," said the prisoner, 


as if speaking to himself. Then turning to his brother, 
he continued, 

" Are there many persons down before the prison ? " 

" Yes, my brother, there are." 

" But then, to come here to me " 

" Well ? " 

" How is it that they have allowed you to pass ? " 

" You know well that we are not very popular, Cor- 
nelius," said the Grand Pensionary with gloomy bitter- 
ness. " I have made my way through all sorts of 
by-streets and alleys." 

" You hid yourself, John ? " 

" I wished to reach you without loss of time, and I did 
what people will do in politics, or on sea when the wind 
is against them I tacked." 

In this moment the noise in the square below was 
heard to roar with increasing fury. Tilly was parleying 
with the burghers. 

" 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 Buitenhof 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." 

" With the help of God, Cornelius, we'll at least try," 
answered John ; " but first of all a word with you." 

" Speak." 

The shouts began anew. 

" Hark, hark ! " continued Cornelius ; " how angry 
these people are ! Is it against you, or against me ? " 

" I should say it is against us both, Cornelius. I told 
you, my dear brother, that the Orange party, whilst 
assailing us with their absurd calumnies, have also made 


it a reproach against us that we have negotiated with 

" What blockheads they are ! " 

" But indeed they reproach us with it." 

" And yet if these negotiations had been successful 
they would have prevented the defeats of Rees, Orsay, 
Wesel, and Rheirberg ; the Rhine would not have been 
crossed, and Holland might still consider herself invin- 
cible in the midst of her marshes and canals." 

" All this is quite true, my dear Cornelius, but still 
more certain it is that if in this moment our correspond- 
ence 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 Witte 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 burnt 
the letters before you left Dort to join me at the Hague." 

" My dear brother," Cornelius answered, " your corre- 
spondence with Mr. 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 dote on the glory of my country, and particularly do 
I dote on your glory, John. I have taken good care not 
to burn that correspondence." 

" Then we are lost, as far as this life is concerned," 
quietly said the Grand Pensionary, approaching the 

" No ; on the contrary, John, we shall at the same time 
save our lives and regain our popularity." 

" But what have you done with these letters ? " 


" I have entrusted them to the care of Cornelius van 
Baerle, my godson, whom you know, and who lives at 

" Poor, honest Van Baerle ! whp knows so much, and 
yet thinks of nothing but of flowers and of God who 
made them. You have entrusted him with this fatal 
secret ; it will be his ruin, poor soul I " 

"His ruin?" 

" Yes, for he will either be strong or he will be weak. 
If he is strong he will, when he hears of what has hap- 
pened 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 it is still time." 

Cornelius de Witte, raising himself on his couch and 
grasping the hand of his brother, who shuddered at the 
touch of the linen bandages, replied, 

" 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 princi- 
pal point is that he is sure not to divulge the secret, 
for the very good reason that he does not know it him- 

John turned round in surprise. 

" You must know, my dear brother, that I have been 
trained in the school of that distinguished politician 
John de Witte ; and I repeat to you that Van Baerle 
is not aware of the nature and importance of the deposit 
which I have entrusted to him.'* 


" Quick, then," cried John ; " as it is still time, let us 
convey to him directions to burn the parcel." 

" Through whom ? " 

" Through my servant Craeke, who was to have accom- 
panied us on horseback, and who has entered the prison 
with me to assist you downstairs." 

" Consider well before having those precious docu- 
ments burnt, John." 

" I consider above all things that the brothers De 
Witte 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 inten- 
tions ? " 

- " You expect, then, that they would kill us if those 
papers were found ? " 

John, without answering, pointed with his hand to 
the square, from whence in that very moment fierce 
shouts and savage yells made themselves heard. 

" Yes, yes," said Cornelius ; " I hear these shouts very 
plainly, but what is their meaning ? " 

John opened the window. 

" Death to the traitors ! " howled the populace. 

" Do you hear now, Cornelius ? " 

" To the traitors ! That means us," said the prisoner, 
raising his eyes to heaven and shrugging his shoulders. 

" Yes, it means us," repeated John. 

" Where is Craeke ? " 

" At the door of your cell, I suppose." 

" Let him enter, then." 

John opened the door ; the faithful servant was- wait- 
ing on the threshold. 

" Come in, Craeke, and mind well what my brother 
will tell you." 


" No, John, it will not suffice to send a verbal message ; 
unfortunately, I shall be obliged to write." 

" And why that ? " 

" Because Van Baerle will neither give up the parcel 
nor burn it without a special command to do so." 

" 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. 

" If I had pen and ink you would soon see," said Cor- 

" Here is a pencil, at any rate." 

" Have you any paper ? for they have left me nothing." 

" Here, take this Bible and tear out the fly-leaf." 

" Very well ; that will do." 

" But your writing will be illegible." 

" 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." 

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. 

A cold sweat stood on the brow of the Grand Pensionary. 

" MY DEAR GODSON, Burn the parcel which I have 
entrusted 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 descrip- 
tion are death to those with whom they are deposited. 
Burn it, and you will have saved John and Cornelius 
de Witte. FareweU, and love me. DE WITTE." 

" August 20, 1672." 


John, with tears in his eyes, wiped off a drop of the 
noble blood which had soiled the leaf ; and after having 
handed the dispatch to Craeke with a last direction, 
returned to Cornelius, who seemed overcome by intense 
pain and near fainting. 

" Now," said he, " when honest Craeke sounds his 
old 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." 

Five minutes had not elapsed before a long and shrill 
whistle was heard through the din and noise of the square 
of the Buitenhof . 

John gratefully raised his eyes to heaven. 

" And now," said he, " let us be off, Cornelius." 



WHILST the clamour of the crowd in the square of the 
Buitenhof, which grew more and more menacing against 
the two brothers, determined John de Witte to hasten 
the departure of his brother Cornelius, a deputation of 
burghers had gone to the Town Hall to demand the with- 
drawal of Tilly's horse. 

It was not far from the Buitenhof to Hoogstraat (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. 

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 hand- 
kerchief of fine Frisian linen, with which he incessantly 
wiped his brow or his burning lips. 

With an eye keen like that of a bird of prey, with a 
long aquiline nose, a finely-cut mouth which he gener- 
ally 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 physiog- 


nomical observations which at the first blush would not 
have been very favourable to the person in question. 

" 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. 

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 fa- 
vour of the latter supposition, on account of the great 
care which the mysterious person evidently took to hide 

. He was plainly dressed and apparently unarmed ; 
his arm was lean but wiry, and his hands dry but of 
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 Buitenhof with eager 
curiosity, very natural in a military man, until his com- 
panion drew him away with him. 

On arriving at the square of the Hoogstraat, 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. 

At the savage yells of the mob the window of the 
Town Hall opened, and a man came forth to address the 

" Who is that on the balcony ? " asked the young man, 
glancing at the orator. 

" It is the deputy Bo welt," replied the officer. 

" What sort of man is he ? Do you know anything 
of him ? " 

" An honest man at least I believe so, Monseigneur." 


Hearing this character given of Bowelt the young man 
showed signs of such a strange disappointment and evi- 
dent dissatisfaction that the officer could not but remark 
it, and therefore added, 

" At least people say so, Monseigneur. I cannot say 
anything about it myself, as I have no personal acquain- 
tance with Mynheer Bowelt." 

" Well," the young man muttered half to himself and 
half to his companion, " let us wait, and we shall soon 

The officer bowed his head in token of his assent and 
was silent. 

" If this Bowelt is an honest man," his Highness con- 
tinued, " he will give to the demand of these furibund 
petitioners a very queer reception." 

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 impa- 
tience, so ill-concealed at certain times, and particularly 
at that moment, under the icy and sombre expression 
of his face. 

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. 

" 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." 

" The order ! we want the order ! " cried several thou- 
sand voices. 

Mynheer Bowelt wished to speak, but his words were 
not heard, and he was only seen moving his arms in all 



instant that the deputies will order Tilly's horse to quil 
their post ? " 

" Why not ? " the young man quietly retorted. 

" Because doing so would simply be signing the death- 
warrant of Cornelius and John de Witte." 

" We shall see," his Highness replied with the most 
perfect coolness ; " God alone knows what is going on 
within the hearts of men." 

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. 

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. 

After this, fluctuating shadows in tumultuous con- 
fusion were seen flitting to and fro across the windows ; 
the council hall was filling. 

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. 

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. 

At the head of the first group a man was flying rather 
than running, his face hideously distorted with satanic 
glee ; this man was the surgeon Tyckelaer. 

" We have it ! we have it ! " he cried, brandishing a 
paper in the air. 


" They have got the order ! " muttered the officer in 

" 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 

Then, looking with a steady glance after the crowd 
which was rushing along before him, he continued, 

" Let us now go to the Buitenhof, Captain ; I expect 
we shall see a very strange sight there." 

The officer bowed, and without making any reply fol- 
lowed in the steps of his master. 

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. 

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. 

At the same time he observed the paper which was 
waving above the surface of clenched fists and glittering 

" Halloa ! " he said, rising in his stirrups and touch- 
ing his lieutenant with the knob of his sword ; "I really 
believe these rascals have got the order." 

" Dastardly ruffians they are ! " cried the Lieuten- 

It was indeed the order, which the burgher-guard re- 
ived with a roar of triumph. They immediately sallied 
brth with lowered arms and fierce shouts to meet Count 
illy's dragoons. 

But the Count was not the man to allow them to ap- 
roach to within an inconvenient distance. 



" Stop ! " he cried, " stop, and keep off from my horse, 
or I shall give the word of command to advance." 

" Here is the order," a hundred insolent voices an- 
swered at once, 

He took it in amazement, cast a rapid glance on it, 
and said quite loud, 

" Those who have signed this order are the real mur- 
derers of Cornelius de Witte. I would rather have my 
two hands cut off than have written one single letter of 
this infamous order." 

And pushing back with the hilt of his sword the man 
who wanted to take it from him, he added, 

" Wait a minute ; papers like this are of importance 
and are to be kept." 

Saying this, he folded up the document and carefully 
put it in the pocket of his coat. 

Then, turning round towards his troop, he gave the 
word of command, 

" Tilly's dragoons, wheel to the right ! " 

After this he added in an undertone, yet loud enough 
for his words to be not altogether lost to those about 

" And now, ye butchers, do your work 1 " 

A savage yell, in which all the keen hatred and fero- 
cious triumph rife in the precincts of the prison simul- 
taneously burst forth, and accompanied the departure 
of the dragoons as they were quietly filing off. 

The Count tarried behind, facing to the last the in- 
furiated populace, which advanced at the same rate as 
the Count retired. 

John de Witte, therefore, had by no means exaggerated 
the danger when, assisting his brother in getting up, he 
hurried his departure. Cornelius, leaning on the arn? 


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. 

" O Mynheer John," she said, " what a misfortune ! " 

" What is it, my child ? " asked De Witte. 

"They say that they are gone to the Town Hall to 
fetch the order for Tilly's horse to withdraw." 

" You do not say so ! " replied John. " Indeed, my 
dear child, if the dragoons are off we shall be in a very 
sad plight." 

" I have some advice to give you," Rosa said, trem- 
bling even more violently than before. 

" Well, let us hear what you have to say, my child. 
Why should not God speak by your mouth ? " 

" Now, then, Mynheer John, if I were in your place I 
should not go out through the large street." 

" And why so, as the dragoons of Tilly are still at their 
post ? " 

" Yes, but their order, as long as it is not revoked, 
enjoins them to stop before the prison." 

" Undoubtedly." 

" Have you got an order for them to accompany you 
out of the town ? " 

" We have not." 

" Well, then, in the very moment when you have passed 
the ranks of the dragoons, you will fall into the hands of 
the people." 

" But the burgher-guard ? " 

" Alas ! the burgher-guard are the most enraged of 

" What are we to do then ? " 

" 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 thence I should try to 
reach the gate by which you intend to leave the town." 

" But my brother is not able to walk," said John. 

" I shall try," Cornelius said, with an expression of 
most sublime fortitude. 

" But have you not got your carriage ? " asked the 

" The carriage is down near the great entrance." 

" Not so," she replied, " I considered your coachman 
to be a faithful man, and I told him to wait for you at 
the postern." 

The two brothers looked first at each other and then 
at Rosa with a glance full of the most tender gratitude. 

" The question is now," said the Grand Pensionary, 
" whether Gryphus will open this door for us." 

" Indeed he will do no such thing," said Rosa. 

"Well, and how then?" 

" 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." 

" And you have got it ? " 

" Here it is, Mynheer John." 

" 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 

" I thank you, Master Cornelius; it shall never leave 
me," replied Rosa. 

And then, with a sigh she said to herself, " What a pity 
that I do not know how to read/ 9 


" The shouts and cries are growing louder and 
louder/' said John ; " there is not a moment to be 

" 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. 

" Quick, quick, my masters ; do you hear them ? " cried 
the coachman in a deadly fright. 

Yet, after having made Cornelius get into the carriage 
first, the Grand Pensionary turned round towards the 
girl, to whom he said, 

" Good-bye, my child, words could never express our 
gratitude. God will reward you for having saved the" 
lives of two men." 

Rosa took the hand which John de Witte proffered 
to her, and kissed it with every show of respect. 

" Go for Heaven's sake, go," she said ; " it seems 
they are going to force the gate." 

John de Witte hastily got in, sat himself down by the 
side of his brother, and fastening the apron of the car- 
riage, called out to the coachman, 

" To the Tol-Hek ! " 

The Tol-Hek was the iron gate leading to the harbour 
of Schevening, in which a small vessel was waiting for 
the two brothers. 

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 garner o th 


street, upon which, closing the door after her, she went 
back and threw the key into a well. 

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. 

Solid as the gate was, and although Gryphus, to do 
him justice, stoutly enough refused to open it, yet it 
could not evidently 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 

He turned round and saw Rosa. 

" Do you hear these madmen ? " he said. 

" I hear them so well, my father, that in your place ' 

" You would open the door ? " 

" No, I should allow it to be forced." 

" But they will kill me ! " 

" Yes, if they see you." 

" How shall they not see me ? " 

" Hide yourself." 

" Where ? " 

" In the secret dungeon." 

" But you, my child ? " 

" 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." 

" Zounds, you are right there ! " cried Gryphus ; " it's 
surprising how much sense there is in such a little head." 

Then, as the gate began to give way amidst the trium- 
phant shouts of the mob, she opened a little trap-door, 
and said, 


" Come along, come along, father." 

" But our prisoners ? " 

" God will watch over them, and I shall watch over 

Gryphus followed his daughter, and the trap-door 
closed over his head just as the broken gate gave admit- 
tance to the populace. 

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. 

The people rushed into the prison with the cry of, 

" Death to the traitors ! To the gallows with Cor- 
nelius de Witte ! Death ! death ! " 



THE young man, with his hat still 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 Buitenhof, in the shade of 
the overhanging weatherboard of a closed shop, the 
doings of the infuriated mob, a spectacle which seemed 
to draw near its catastrophe. 

" 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 Cor- 
nelius. Do you hear these people ? They certainly bear 
a sad grudge to the two De Wittes." 

" In truth," replied the officer, " I never heard such 

" 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 ? " 

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. 

" Halloa, halloa," the man called out, " he is gone." 

" 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. 

" Gone, gone," repeated the man in a rage ; "the bird 
has flown." 

" What does this man say ? " asked his Highness, 
growing quite pale. 

" O Monseigneur, he says a thing which would be 
very fortunate if it should turn out true." 

" Certainly it would be fortunate if it were true," said 
the young man. " Unfortunately, it cannot be true." 

" However, look " said the officer. 

And indeed some more faces, furious and contorted 
with rage, showed themselves at the windows, crying, 

" Escaped gone ; they have helped them off ! " 

And the people in the street repeated with fearful 

" Escaped ! gone ! Let us run after them, and pursue 
them ! " 

" Monseigneur, it seems that Mynheer Cornelius has 
really escaped," said the officer. 

" 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 

' Has an order been given to close the town gates, 
Monseigneur ? " 

" No ; at least I do not think so. Who could have 
given such an order ? " 

" Indeed, but what makes your Highness suppose " 

" There are fatalities," Monseigneur replied in an off- 
hand manner ; " and the greatest men have sometimes 
fallen victims to such fatalities." 

At these words the officer felt his blood run cold, as 


somehow or other he was convinced that the prisoner 
was lost. 

At this moment the roar of the multitude broke forth 
like thunder, for it was now quite certain that Cornelius 
de Witte was no longer in the prison. 

Cornelius and John, after driving along the pond, had 
taken the large street which leads to the Tol-Hek, giving 
directions to the coachman to slacken his pace, in order 
not to excite any suspicion. 

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 

All at once he stopped. 

" What is the matter ? " asked John, putting his head 
out of the coach window. 

" my masters ! " cried the coachman, " it is 

Terror choked the voice of the honest fellow. 

" Well, say what you have to say/' urged the Grand 

" The gate is closed ; that's what it is." 

" How is this ? It is not usual to close the gate by 

" Just look ! " 

John de Witte leaned out of the window, and indeed 
saw that the man was right. 

" Never mind, but drive on," said John. " I have 
with me the order for the commutation of the punish- 
ment ; the gatekeeper will let us through." 

The carriage moved along, but it was evident that the 
driver was no longer urging his horses with the same 
degree of confidence. 


Moreover, as John de Witte 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 Buitenhof. 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, how- 
ever, not yet quite sure as to whom it contained. 

The carriage in the meanwhile arrived at the Tol- 

" Open ! " cried the coachman. 

" 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 ? " 

" With the key, to be sure," said the coachman. 

" With the key ! Oh yes ; but if you have not got 

" How is that ? Have not you got the key ? " asked 
the coachman. 

" No, I haven't." 

" What has become of it ? " 

" Well, they have taken it from me." 

" Who ? " 

*' Some one, I dare say, who had a mind that no one 
should leave the town." 

" 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 Witte, and 
for my brother Cornelius, whom I am taking away into 

"O Mynheer de Witte, I am indeed very much 
grieved," said the gatekeeper, rushing towards the car- 


riage ; " but, upon my sacred word, the key has been 
taken from me. 


" This morning." 

" By whom ? " 

" By a pale and thin young man of about twenty-two." 

" And wherefore did you give it up to him ? " 

" Because he showed me an order, signed and sealed." 

" By whom ? " 

" By the gentlemen of the Town Hall." 

" Well, then," said Cornelius calmly, " our doom seems 
to be fixed." 

" Do you know whether the same precaution has been 
taken at .the other gates ? " 

"I do not." 

" Now, then," said John to the coachman, " God com- 
mands man to do all that is in his power to preserve his 
life ; go, and drive to another gate." 

And whilst the servant was turning round the vehicle, 
the Grand Pensionary said to the gatekeeper, 

" Take our thanks for your good intentions ; the will 
must count for the deed. You had the will to save us, 
and in the eyes of the Lord it is as if you had succeeded 
in doing so." 

" Alas ! " said the gatekeeper, " do you see down 
there ? " 

" 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." 

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. 


These newcomers evidently meant mischief with re- 
gard to the carriage. 

When they saw the horses galloping down upon them 
they placed themselves across the street, brandishing 
cudgels in their hands, and calling out, 

"Stop! stop!" 

The coachman, on his side, lashed his horses into in- 
creased speed, until the coach and the men encountered. 

The brothers De Witte, 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 pros- 
trate man, set off again amidst a volley of the fiercest 

" Alas I " said Cornelius, " I am afraid we have hurt 
some one." 

" Gallop, gallop ! " called John. 

But notwithstanding this order the coachman sud- 
denly came to a stop. 

" Now then, what is the matter again ? " asked John. 

" Look there I " said the coachman. 

John looked. The whole mass of the populace from 
the Buitenhof 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. 

" Stop, and get off," said John to the coachman. " It 
is useless to go any farther ; we are lost." 

" Here they are ! here they are ! " five hundred voices 
were crying at the same time. 

" Yes, here they are, the traitors, the murderers, the 
assassins 1 " 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. 

This was the object over which the two brothers had 
felt their carriage pass. 

The coachman stopped, but, however strongly his 
master urged him, he refused to get off and save him- 

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. 

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. 

" Good heavens, Monseigneur, what is going on there ? " 
whispered the officer. 

" Something very terrible, to a certainty," replied the 

" Don't you see, Monseigneur ? They are dragging the 
Grand Pensionary from the carriage; they strike him, 
they tear him to pieces ! " 

" 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 

" 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 ! " 

" Indeed, it is Cornelius, and no mistake." 

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 imme- 
diately fell again. 

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. 

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. 

The officer saw this sign of compassion, and, wishing 
to avail himself of the softened tone of his feelings, con- 

" Come, come, Monseigneur, for here they are also 
going to murder the Grand Pensionary." 

But the young man had already opened his eyes again. 

" To be sure," he said. " These people are really im- 
placable. It does no one good to offend them." 

" Monseigneur," said the officer, " could not one save 
this poor man, who has been your Highness's instructor ? 
If there be a means name it, and if I should perish in the 
attempt " 

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 an- 

" Captain Van Deken, I request you to go and look 


after my troops, that they may be armed for any emer- 

" But am I to leave your Highness here, alone, in the 
presence of all these murderers ? " 

" Go, and don't you trouble yourself about me more 
than I do myself," the Prince gruffly replied. 

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 witness- 
ing the shocking spectacle of the murder of the other 

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, 

" My brother where is my brother ? " 

One of the ruffians knocked off his hat with a blow 
of his clenched fist. 

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. 

John uttered a cry of agony and grief, and put one of 
his hands before his eyes. 

" Oh, you close your eyes, do you ? " said one of the 
soldiers of the burgher-guard ; " well, I shall open them 
for you." 

And saying this he stabbed him with his pike in the 
face, and the blood spurted forth. 

" My brother ! " cried John de Witte, trying to see, 


through the stream of blood which blinded him, what 
had become of Cornelius ; " my brother, my brother ! " 

" Go, and run after him ! " bellowed another murderer, 
putting his musket to his temples and pulling the trigger. 

But the gun did not go off. 

The fellow then turned his musket round, and, taking 
it by the barrel with both hands, struck John de Witte 
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, " My brother ! " with a voice so 
full of anguish that the young man opposite closed the 

There remained little more to see : a third murderer 
fired a pistol with the muzzle to his face ; and as this 
time the shot took effect, blowing out his brains, John 
de Witte fell, to rise no more. 

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 knife or 
sword ; every one wanted to draw a drop of blood from 
the fallen hero, and tear off a shred from his garments. 

And after having mangled and torn and completely 
stripped the two brothers, the mob dragged their naked 
and bloody bodies to an extemporized gibbet, where 
amateur executioners hung them up by the feet. 

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 in the town selling small 
slices of the bodies of John and Cornelius at ten sous a 

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 ter- 
rible 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 

" Ah, sir," said the gatekeeper, " do you bring me the 
key ? " 

" Yes, my man, here it is." 

" 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. 

" And why that ? " asked the other. 

" Because I might have opened the gate to Mynheers 
de Witte ; whereas, finding the gate locked, they were 
obliged to retrace their steps." 

" Gate, gate ! " cried a voice which seemed to be that 
of a man in a hurry. 

The Prince, turning round, observed Captain Van 

" Is that you, Captain ? " he said. " You are not yet 
out of the Hague ? This is executing my orders very 

" Monseigneur," replied the Captain, " this is the 
third gate at which I have presented myself; the two 
others were closed." 

" Well, this good man will open this one for you. Do 
it, my friend/' 

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 ha,d spoken In such a familial' 


As it were to make up for his fault he hastened to 
open the gate, which swung creaking on its hinges. 

" Will Monseigneur avail himself of my horse ? " asked 
the Captain. 

" I thank you, Captain, I shall use my own steed, which 
is waiting for me close at hand." 

And taking from his pocket a golden whistle, such as 
was generally used at that time for summoning the serv- 
ants, he sounded it with a shrill and prolonged call, on 
which an equerry on horseback speedily made his appear- 
ance, leading another horse by the bridle. 

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. 

" Do you know," he then said without stopping, 
" that those rascals have killed John de Witte as well 
as his brother ? " 

" 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." 

" 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." 

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. 


" 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 Witte have been served I " 



WHILST the burghers of the Hague were tearing in pieces 
the bodies of John and Cornelius de Witte, and whilst 
William of Orange, after having made sure that his two 
antagonists were really dead, was galloping on 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 
highroad lined with trees, until he was clear of the town 
and the neighbouring villages. 

Being once safe, he, with a view of avoiding suspicion, 
left his horse at a livery-stable, and quietly continuing 
his journey on the canal-boats to Dort, soon descried 
that cheerful city, at the foot of a hill dotted with wind- 
mills. 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 bril- 
liant 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. 


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 pick 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 
fertilized the mist which the verdant screen could not 
prevent the river-wind from carrying there every morn- 
ing and evening. 

Having disembarked unobserved among the usual 
bustle of the city, Craeke at once directed his steps to- 
wards 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 vsew -endowed a truly 
happy mortal. 

This happy mortal, rara avis, was Doctor van B&erle, 
the godson of Cornelius de Witte. He fatd inb^bited 
the same house ever since his childhood ; ftsr it was the 
house in which his father and grandfather, old estab- 
lished princely merchants of the princely city of Dort, 
were born. 

Mynheer van Baerle, the father, had amassed in the 
Indian trade three or four hundred thousand guilders, 
which Mynheer VEJI 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, imd the 
other that of 1610 a fact which proved that they were 
guilders of Van Baerle the father and of Van Baerle the 
grandf ather j bat we will Inform the reader at once that 
three or four hundred thousand guilders wre only 


the pocket-money, or a sort of purse, for Cornelius van 
Baerle, the hero of this story, as Ids landed property in 
the province yielded him an income of about ten thou- 
sand guilders a year, 

When the worthy citiben, the father of Cornelius, 
passed from tune into eternity three months after hav- 
ing 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, 

" 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 count- 
ing-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 sur- 
prise of passing to an unknown master. And least of 
all imitate the example of your godfather Cornelius de 
Witte, who has plunged into politics, the most ungrateful 
of all careers, and who will certainly come to an un- 
timely end." 

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. 

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. 
Cornelius van Baerle, who was present in De Ruyter's 
flagship, The Seven Provinces, at the battle of South- 
wold Bay, only calculated after the fight was over how 


much time a man who likes to shut himself up with his 
own thoughts is obliged to waste in closing his eyes and 
stopping his ears, whilst his fellow-creatures indulge in 
the pleasure of shooting at each other with cannon-balls. 
He therefore bade farewell to De Ruyter, to his godfather, 
and to glory ; kissed the hands of the Grand Pensionary, 
for whom he felt a profound veneration ; and retired to 
his house at Dort, where he possessed every element of 
what alone was happiness to him. 

He studied 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 trea- 
tise, 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 him- 
self, from all the follies of his country and of his age, one 
of the most elegant and expensive he became a tulip- 

It was the time when the Dutch and the Portuguese, 
rivalling each other in this branch of horticulture, had 
begun to idolize and almost worship that flower, which 
originally had come from the East. 

Soon people from Dort to Mons began to talk of Myn- 
heer 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 

Van Baerle began by expending his yearly revenue in 
laying the groundwork of his collection, after which he 
broke hi upon his new guilders to bring it to perfection. 
His exertions, indeed, were crowned with a most mag- 
nificent 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 god- 
father. The other names have escaped us, but the fanciers 
will be sure to find them in the catalogues of the times. 

In the beginning of the year 1672 Cornelius de Witte 
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. 

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 too 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. 

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 be- 
fore 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. 

In the same degree as Cornelius de Witte 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. 

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. 


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. 

At the time when Cornelius van Baerle began to de- 
vote 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 tulips. 

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 hot- 
beds just as much heat and fresh air as the strictest rules 
of horticulture exact. 

Isaac knew the temperature of his frames to the twen- 
tieth 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. He had even started a tulip which 
bore his name, and which, after having travelled all 
through France, had found its way into Spain and pene- 
trated as far as Portugal ; and the king,. Don Alphonso 
VI. who, being expelled from Lisbon, retired to the 
island of Terceira, where he amused himself, not, like 


the great Conde", with watering his carnations, but with 
growing tulips had, on seeing the Boxtel tulip, ex- 
claimed, " Not so bad, by any means ! " 

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 courtyard by a story, which, 
shutting out the sun, took half a degree of warmth from 
BoxteFs 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. 

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 
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. 

The law was for Van Baerle, and Boxtel had to abide 
by it. 

Besides which, 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 tem- 
perate 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 

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 com- 
fort, great minds, in the midst of momentous catastrophes, 
will derive from the consolations of philosophy. 

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-fancier. 

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. 

Boxtel was quite amazed when he saw all this appara- 
tus, but he was not as yet aware of the full extent of his 
misfortune. Van Baerle was known to be fond of every- 
thing 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, hav- 
ing to paint the interior of a tulip-grower's, he had col- 
lected in his new studio all the accessories of decoration ? 

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 neigh- 
bour 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-south-west ; water in abun- 
dant supply, and at hand in short, every requirement to 
ensure not only success but also progress. There could 
not be a doubt but that Van Baerle had become a tulip- 

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 intel- 
lectual 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. 

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 ; whilst 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 seed- 
lings, had taken up his abode in a miserable garret. 

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 Witte that is to say, a celebrity. 

Boxtel, as the reader may see, was not possessed of 
the spirit of Poms, who on being conquered by Alex- 
ander consoled himself with the celebrity of his con- 

And how if Van Baerle produced a new tulip and 
named it the John de Witte, after having named one 


the Cornelius ? It was indeed enough to choke honest 
Isaac with rage. 

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. 



FROM that moment BoxteFs 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 fa- 
vourite occupation was changed into a constant source of 
misery to him. 

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. 

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. 

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 


door a 

not the least suspicion that there was at his very 
pretender whose throne he had usurped. 

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 per- 
haps Shakespeare and Rubens, has equalled in point of 

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 suc- 
cesses. Whilst Cornelius was weeding, manuring, water- 
ing his beds ; whilst, kneeling on the turf border, he 
analyzed 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 won- 
der that this venomous breath of envy and hatred did not 
a blight on the innocent flowers which had excited it. 
the evil spirit has once taken hold of the heart 
of man, it urges him on without letting him stopTj Thus 
Boxtel soon was no longer content with seeing VanBaerle. 
He wanted to see his flowers too ; he had the feelings 
of an artist ; the masterpiece of a rival engrossed his 

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 ! 
... 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 ! ^fc 

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. 

Yet Van Baerle made such progress in the noble sci- 
ence of growing tulips, which he seemed to master with 
the true instinct of genius, that Boxtel at last was mad- 
dened 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 jure^tpjsfijound out, and 
that he would not on lyjbe punished byJaw. but also dis- 
honoured 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. 




He considered a long time, and at last his meditations 
were crowned with success. 

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 Witte," but, besides, the "Beauty of 
Brabant/' milk-white, edged with purple and pink ; 
the " Marble of Rotterdam," colour of flax blossom, 
feathered red and flesh colour ; and the " Wonder of 
Haarlem, " dark dove colour, tinged with a lighter shade 
of the same. 

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 heartrending caterwaul- 
ings, mowing down with their string the flowers among 
which they were disporting themselves, until, after a 
furious strife of about a quarter of an hour, the string 
broke and the combatants vanished. 

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, over- 
flowing with gall, was now throbbing with triumphant 

joy. ^) 

Boxtel was so eager to ascertain the extent of the in- 
jury that he remained on his post until morning, to feast 
his eyes at the sad state in which the two cats had placed 
the flower-beds of his neighbour. The mists of the morn- 
ing chilled his frame; but he did not feel the cold, the 
hopejrfjrevenge keeping his blood at fever heat. The 


chagrin of his rival was to pay for all the inconvenience 
which he incurred himself. 

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. 

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. 

He ran up to them with blanched cheek. 

Boxtel trembled with joy. v Fifteen or twenty tulips, 
torn and crushed, were lying about, some of them bent, 
others completely broken and already withering; the 
sap was oozing from their bleeding bulbs. How gladly 
would Van Baerle have redeemed that precious sap with 
his own blood ! 

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. 

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 cater- 
waulings. He besides found traces of the cats their 
footmarks and hairs left behind on the battlefield. 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- 

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 abide his time. 

Just then the Tulip Society of Haarlem offered a 
prize for the production of the large blacls iujjp without 
a spot of colour ; a thing which had not yet been accom- 
plished, and was considered impossible, as at that time 
there did not exist a flower of that species approaching 
even to 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. 

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 grand black 
tulip, which was looked upon as chimerical, as the black 
swan or the white raven were reputed to be in those days. 

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 sowings and operations to reduce the tulips 
which he had grown already from red to brown and from 
brown to dark brown. 


By the next year he had obtained flowers of a per- 
fect nut-brown, and Boxtel espied them in the border, 
whereas he had himself as yet only succeeded in pro- 
ducing the light brown. 

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. 

The house of his rival was quite open to view a gar- 
den 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 hence- 
forward occupied himself with nothing else but the doings 
at Van Baerle's. 

But the most curious part of the operations was not 
performed in the garden. 

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 easy access ; and 
here, as soon as the lamp illuminated the walls and win- 
dows, Boxtel saw the inventive genius of his rival at 

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 he shut up in dark- 
ness those which were expected to furnish the black 
colour, exposed to the sun or to the lamp those which 
vere to produce red, and placed between the endless 


reflection of two water-mirrors those intended for white, 
the pure representation of the limpid element. 

This innocent magic, the fruit at the same time of 
childlike musings and of manly genius this patient, 
untiring labour, of which Boxtel knew himself to be in- 
capable made him, gnawed as he was with envy, centre 
all his life, all his thoughts, and all his hopes in his 

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 Witte came to pay to his native town. 



CORNELIUS DE WITTE, after having attended to his family 
affairs, reached the house of his godson Cornelius van 
Baerle one evening in the month of January 1672. 

De Witte, although being. very little of a horticulturist 
or of an artist, went over the whole mansion from the 
studio to the greenhouse, 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 affa- 
bility 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. 

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 
the stir, climbed up to his post of observation, where in 
spite of the cold he took his stand, with the telescope 
to his eye. 

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. 

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 Witte said in a low voice to Van Baerle, 

" My dear son, send these people away, and let us be 
alone for some minutes." 

The younger Cornelius bowing assent, said aloud, 

" Would you now, sir, please to see my dry- 
room ? " 

The dry-room, this pantheon, this sanctum sanctorum 
of the tulip-fancier, was, as Delphi of old, interdicted to 
the profane uninitiated. 

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. 

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. 

The envious spy was watching more intently than ever. 
First of all he saw the walls and windows lit up. 

Then two dark figures approached. 

One of them, tall, majestic, stern, sat down near the 
table on which Van Baerle had placed the taper. 

In this figure Boxtel recognized the pale features ol 
Cornelius de Witte, whose long hair, parted in front, fell 
over his shoulders. 

De Witte, after having said some few words to Cor- 
nelius, 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. 

His first thought was that this precious deposit en- 
closed some newly-imported bulbs from Bengal or Cey- 
lon ; but he soon reflected that Cornelius de Witte 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 con- 
tained simply some papers, and that these papers were 
relating to politics. 

But why should papers of political import be entrusted 
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 ? 

It was undoubtedly a deposit which Cornelius de Witte, 
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. 

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 satisfy- 
ing his curiosity and feasting his eyes on the present 
which he had received. 

But, on the contrary, Cornelius had received the parcel 
from the hands of his godfather with every mark of re- 
spect, 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. 

The parcel thus being secreted, Cornelius de Witte 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. 

Boxtel had not been mistaken in his supposition. The 
deposit entrusted to Van Baerle and carefully locked up 
by him was nothing more nor less than John de Witte's 
correspondence with the Marquis de Louvois, the war 
minister of the King of France ; only the godfather for- 
bore 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 would send to claim it in his name. 

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. 

Little dreaming of the jealous hatred of his neighbour, 
Van Baerle had proceeded step by step towards gaming 
the prize offered by the Horticultural Society of Haar- 
lem. 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. 

On the 2oth 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. 

" I shall find the black tulip," said Cornelius to him- 
self 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 prize Haarlem to the poor. And yet " 

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 1 
these are no thoughts for the present times, when mus- 
kets, standards, proclamations, and beating of drums 
are the order of the day." 

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 

" 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 distin- 
guish the circulating veins with the naked eye. Cer- 
tainly, 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 Barlczensis. 

" Yes, Barl&ensis ; a fine name. All the tulip-fan- 
ciers 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. c Tulipa nigra Barlceensis I ' ' Why Barlceensis ? 
' 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 Witte, the Cornelius de Witte, etc/ Well, this is what 
I call my ambition. It will cause tears to no one. And 
people will still talk of my Tulipa nigra Barlaensis when 
perhaps my godfather, this sublime politician, is only 
known from the tulip to which I have given his 

" Oh, these darling bulbs ! 

" When my tulip has flowered," Baerle continued in 
his soliloquy, " and when tranquillity is restored in Hol- 
land, 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 succeeded 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, Caesar, or Maxi- 

" Oh, the admirable bulbs ! " 

Thus Cornelius indulged in the delights of contempla- 
tion, and was carried away by the sweetest dreams. 


Suddenly the bell of his cabinet was rung much more 
violently than usual. 

Cornelius, startled, laid his hands on his bulbs, and 
turned round. 

" Who is here ? " he asked. 

" Sir," answered the servant, "it is a messenger from 
the Hague." 

" A messenger from the Hague ! What does he want ? " 

" Sir, it is Craeke." 

" Craeke ! the confidential servant of Mynheer John 
de Witte ? Good, let him wait." 

" I cannot wait," said a voice in the lobby. 

And at the same time forcing his way in, Craeke rushed 
into the dry-room. 

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. 

" Zounds ! " said Cornelius, eagerly picking up his 
precious bulbs, " what's the matter ? " 

" 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 with- 
out losing one moment." 

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. 

" 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." 


Then, examining the bulb which he held in the hollow 
of his hand, he said, " Well, here is one of them unin- 
jured. That confounded Craeke ! thus to rush into my 
dry-room. Let us now look after the other." 

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 for- 
tunately were quite cold. 

He at once felt the other bulb. 

" Well, here it is," he said. And looking at it with 
almost fatherly affection, he exclaimed, " Uninjured, as 
the first ! " 

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. 

" Now what is it again ? " he demanded. " Are people 
going mad here ? " 

" O sir, sir ! " cried the servant, rushing into the dry- 
room with a much paler face and with much more fright- 
ened mien than Craeke had shown. 

"Well," asked Cornelius, foreboding some mischief 
from this double breach of the strict rule of his house. 

" Oh, sir, fly ! fly, quick ! " cried the servant. 

" Fly ! and what for ? " 

" Sir, the house is full of the guards of the States." 

" What do they want ? " 

" They want you." 

" What for ? " 

" To arrest you." 

" Arrest me ? Arrest me, do you say ? " 

" Yes, sir, and they are headed by a magistrate." 


" 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. 

" They are coming up ! they are coming up ! " cried the 

" O my dear child, my worthy master ! " cried the old 
housekeeper, who now likewise made her appearance in the 
dry-room, " take your gold, your jewellery, and fly, fly ! " 

" But how shall I make my escape, nurse ? " said Van 

" Jump out of the window." 

" Twenty-five feet from the ground ! " 

" But you will fall on six feet of soft soil." 

" Yes, but I should fall on my tulips." 

" Never mind ; jump out." 

Cornelius took the third bulb, approached the window 
and opened it, but seeing what havoc he would neces- 
sarily 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. 

In this moment they saw across the banister of the 
staircase the points of the halberds of the soldiers rising. 

The housekeeper raised her hands to heaven. 

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. 

Looking about for a paper in which to wrap them &p, 
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. 

At this very moment the soldiers, preceded by a magis- 
trate, entered the room. 


" Are you Doctor Cornelius van Baerle ? " demanded 
the magistrate, who, although knowing the young man 
very well, put his questions according to the forms of 
justice, which gave his proceedings a much more digni- 
fied air. 

" I am that person, Master van Spennen," answered 
Cornelius, politely bowing to his judge, " and you know 
it very well." 

" Then give up to us the seditious papers which you 
secrete in your house." 

" The seditious papers ! " repeated Cornelius, quite 
dumbfounded at the imputation. 

" Now don't look astonished, if you please." 

" I vow to you, Master van Spennen," Cornelius re- 
plied, " that I am completely at a loss to understand 
what you want." 

" Then I shall put you in the way, Doctor," said the 
judge. "Give up to us the paper which the traitor 
Cornelius de Witte deposited with you in the month 
of January last." 

A sudden light came into the mind of Cornelius. 

" Halloa ! " said Van Spennen, " you begin now to 
remember, don't you ? " 

" Indeed I do ; but you spoke of seditious papers, and 
I have none of that sort." 

" You deny it then ? " 

" Certainly I do." 

The magistrate turned round and took a rapid survey 
of the whole cabinet. 

" Where is the apartment you call your dry-room ? " 
he asked. 

" The very same where you now are, Master van 


The magistrate cast a glance at a small note at the 
top of his papers. 

" All right," he said, like a man who is sure of his 

Then, turning round towards Cornelius, he continued, 
" Will you give up those papers to me ? " 

" 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." 

" Doctor 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." 

Saying this, the judge pointed with his finger to the 
third drawer of the press, near the fireplace. 

In this very drawer, indeed, the papers deposited by 
the Warden of the Dykes with his godson were lying ; a 
proof that the police had received very exact information. 

" Ah, you will not," said Van Spennen, when he saw 
Cornelius standing immovable and bewildered ; " then 
I shall open the drawer myself." 

And, pulling out the drawer to its full length, the 
magistrate at first alighted on about twenty bulbs care- 
fully 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 Witte 
to his godson. 

The magistrate broke the seals, tore off the envelope, 
cast an eager glance on the first leaves which met his 
eye, and then exclaimed with a terrible voice, 

" Well, justice has been rightly informed after all ! " 

" How," said Cornelius, " how is this ? " 

" Don't pretend to be ignorant, Mynheer van Baerle," 
answered the magistrate ; " follow me." 


" How's that ; follow you ? " cried the Doctor. 

" Yes, sir, for in the name of the States I arrest you." 

Arrests were not as yet made in the name of William 
of Orange ; he had not been Stadtholder long enough 
for that. 

" Arrest me ? " cried Cornelius. " But what have I 
done ? " 

" That's no affair of mine, Doctor ; you will explain 
all that before your judges." 

" Where ? " 

" At the Hague." 

Cornelius, in mute stupefaction, embraced his old 
nurse, who was in a swoon ; shook hands with his serv- 
ants, 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. 



THE incident just related was, as the reader has guessed 
before this, the mischievous work of Mynheer Isaac 

It will be remembered that, with the help of his tele- 
scope, not even the least detail of the private meeting 
between Cornelius de Witte and Van Baerle had escaped 
him. He had, indeed, heard nothing ; but he had seen 
everything, and had rightly concluded that the papers 
entrusted 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. 

The upshot of all this was, that when Boxtel who 
watched the course of political events much more atten- 
tively than his neighbour Cornelius was used to do 
heard the news of the brothers De Witte being arrested 
on a charge of high treason against the States, he thought 
within his heart that very likely he, Boxtel, needed only 
to say one word, and the godson would be arrested as well 

t as the godfather. 

* Yet, full of hatred as was Boxtel's heart, he at first 
shrank with horror from the idea of informing against 
a man whom this information might lead to the scaffold. 


But there is this terrible in evil thoughts, that evil 
minds grow soon familiar with them. **** 

Besides this, Mynheer Isaac Boxtel encouraged him- 
self with the following sophism, 

" Cornelius de Witte is a bad citizen, as he is charged 
with high treason and arrested. 

" I, on the contrary, am a good citizen, as I am not 
charged with anything in the world, and as I am as free 
as the air of heaven. 

" If, therefore, Cornelius de Witte 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. 

" 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. " 

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 by that of cupidity. 

Boxtel was quite aware of the progress which Van 
Baerle had made towards producing the grand black 

Doctor 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. 

Just this certainty of Cornelius van Baerle caused the 
fever which raged in the heart of Isaac Boxtel. 

If Cornelius should be arrested there would neces- 
sarily 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. 

Now, in that night Boxtel would climb over the wall, 
and as he knew the place of the bulb which was to pro- 
duce the grand black tulip, he would nlch 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 Tidipa mgra Boxtettensis 
a result which would satisfy not only his vengeance, 
but also his cupidity and his ambition. 

Awake, he thought of nothing but the grand black 
tulip ; asleep, he dreamed of it. 

At last, on the igth of August, about two o'clock in 
the afternoon, the temptation grew so strong that 
Mynheer Isaac was no longer able to resist it. 

Accordingly he wrote an anonymous information, the 
minute exactness of which made up for its want of authen- 
ticity, and posted his letter. 

Never did a venomous paper slipped into the jaws of 
the bronze lions at Venice produce a more prompt and 
terrible effect. 

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 fol- 
lowing morning, therefore, they assembled, and decided 
on Van Baerle's arrest, placing the order for its execu- 
tion in the hands of Master van Spennen. who. as \vo 
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 Witte. 


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. 

He knew too well what was about to happen in the 
house of the poor Doctor, as that he should have felt a 
desire to look into it. He did not even get up when his 
only servant who envied the lot of the servants of Cor- 
nelius just as bitterly as Boxtel did that of their master 
entered his bedroom. He said to the man, 

" I shall not get up to-day ; I am ill." 

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. 

His servant entered the room ; Boxtel hid himself 
under the counterpane. 

" sir ! " cried the servant, not without some ink- 
ling that, whilst deploring the mishap which had befallen 
Van Baerle, he was announcing agreeable news to his 
master " O sir ! you do not know, then, what is hap- 
pening at this moment ? " 

" How can I know it ? " answered Boxtel with an al- 
most unintelligible voice. 

" Well, Mynheer Boxtel, at this moment your neigh- 
bour Cornelius van Baerle is arrested for high treason." 

" Nonsense ! " Boxtel muttered with a faltering voice ; 
" the thing is impossible." 

" Faith, sir, at any rate that's what people say ; and 
besides I have seen Judge van Spennen with the archers 
entering the house." 

" Well, if you have seen it with your own eyes, that's 
a different case altogether." 


" At all events," said the servant, " I shall go and in- 
quire once more. Be you quiet, sir ; I shall let you know 
all about it" 

Boxtel contented himself with signifying his approval 
of the zeal of his servant by dumb show. 

The man went out, and returned in half an hour. 

" O sir, all that I told you is indeed quite true." 

" How so ? " 

" Mynheer van Baerle is arrested, and has been put 
into a carriage, and they are driving him to the Hague." 

" To the Hague ? " 

" Yes, to the Hague ; and if what people say is true, 
it won't do him much good." 

" And what do they say ? " Boxtel asked. 

" 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 Witte." 

" Oh ! " muttered, or rather growled, Boxtel, closing 
his eyes from the dreadful picture which presented itself 
to his imagination. 

" 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." 

And in reality Isaac Boxtel was very sick, like a man 
who has murdered another. 

But he had murdered his man with a double object ; 
the first was attained, the second was still to be attained. 

Night closed in. It was the night which Boxtel had 
looked forward to. 

As soon as it was dark he got up. 

He then climbed into his sycamore. 

He had correctly calculated : no one thought of keep- 


ing watch over the garden ; the house and the servants 
were all in the utmost confusion. 

He heard the clock strike ten, eleven, twelve. 

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. 

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. 

This silence and this darkness emboldened Boxtel ; 
he got astride on 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 Cor- 
nelius, and descended. 

After this, knowing to an inch where the bulbs which 
were to produce the black tulip were planted, he ran 
towards the spot, following, however, the crisp gravelled 
walks in order not to be betrayed by his footprints, and 
on arriving at the precise spot he rushed, with the eager- 
ness of a tiger, to plunge his hand into the soft ground. 

He found nothing, and thought he was mistaken. 

In the meanwhile the cold sweat stood on his brow. 

He rummaged close by it nothing. 

He rummaged on the right and on the left nothing. 

He rummaged in front and at the back nothing. 

He was nearly mad when at last he satisfied himself 
that on that very morning the earth had been turned. 

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. 

Boxtel could not bring himself to leave the place. He 
dug with his hands more than ten square feet of ground. 


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. 

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. 

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. 

Everything therefore depended upon whether he could 
procure a ladder of sufficient length one of twenty-five 
feet instead of ten. 

Boxtel had noticed in the street where he lived a house 
which was being repaired, and against which a very tall 
ladder was placed. 

This ladder would do admirably, unless the workmen 
had taken it away. 

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 

Boxtel put a lighted dark lantern into his pocket, 
mounted the ladder, and slipped into the dry-room. 

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. 


However, he took courage again ; he had not gone so 
far to turn back with empty hands. 

But it was of no use to search the whole room, to 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 Witte," the hazel-nut, and 
the roasted coffee-coloured tulip ; but of the black tulip, 
or rather of the seedling bulbs within which it was still 
sleeping, not a trace was to be found. 

And yet, on looking over the register of seeds and 
bulbs, which Van Baerle kept, if possible, even with 
greater exactitude and care than the first commercial 
houses of Amsterdam their ledgers, Boxtel read the fol- 
lowing entry : 

" To-day, 2oth of August 1672, I have taken up the 
mother- bulb of the grand black tulip, which I have divided 
into three perfect suckers." 

" Oh, these suckers, these suckers ! " howled Boxtel, 
turning over everything in the dry-room. " Where could 
he have concealed them ? " 

Then suddenly striking his forehead in his frenzy, he 
called out, " Oh, wretch that I am ! Would any one be 
separated from his suckers ? Would 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 

It was like a flash of lightning which showed to Boxtel 
the abyss of a uselessly-committed crime. 

Boxtel sank quite paralyzed on that very table, and 
on that very spot where, some hours before, the unfor- 


tunate Van Baerle had so leisurely and with such intense 
delight contemplated his darling bulbs. 

" 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 " 

The rest of this detestable thought merged in a hideous 

" The suckers are at the Hague," he said, " therefore 
I can no longer live at Dort. Away, then, for them to 
the Hague ! to the Hague ! " 

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. 



IT was about midnight when poor Van Baerle was 
locked up in the prison of the Buitenhof. 

What Rosa foresaw had come to pass. On finding 

. the cell of Cornelius de Witte 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. 

But this fury had vented itself most amply 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 

A momentary lull had therefore set in whilst the prison 
war. empty, and Rosa availed herself of this favourable 
moment to come forth from her hiding-place, which she 
also induced her father to leave. 

The prison was therefore completely deserted. Why 
should people remain in the jail whilst murder was going 
on at the Tol-Hek ? 

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 
passed here. 

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. 

Rosa hid herself this time also, but only that she might 
not see the ghastly spectacle. 

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 

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, 

" Godson of Cornelius de Witte ! Well, young man, 
we have just here the family cell and we shall give it to 

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 Witte 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." 

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. 

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 recognize him in case he should 
be ordered to pounce upon him. 


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 wa?y golden locks, whilst with her left she held her 
white nightdress closely over her breast, having been 
roused from her first slumber by the unexpected arrival 
of Van Baerle. 

It would have made a fine picture, worthy of Rem- 
brandt 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 flurried mien at 
being thus seen by a stranger. 

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 
cresset of Gryphus threw a brilliant glitter. 

The sublime master would, however, have been alto- 
gether 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." This vision lasted but a mo- 
ment 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 after he entered 
his prison, of which it is unnecessary to say more, as the 
reader is already acquainted with it. 


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. 

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 Buiten- 
hof, 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. 

Now and then during the night horses had galloped 
at a smart pace over the Buitenhof ; 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. 

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, ap- 
proached the window and cast a sad look round the 
circular yard before him. 

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. 

Cornelius recognized the gibbet. 

On it were suspended two shapeless trunks, which 
indeed were no more than bleeding skeletons. 

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, 

" Here are hanging the great rogue of the name of 
John de Witte, and the little rogue Cornelius de Witte, 
his brother, two enemies of the people, but great friends 
of the King of France." 

Cornelius uttered a cry of horror, and in the agony of 
his frantic terror knocked with his hands and feet at his 
door so violently and continuously that Gryphus, with 
his huge bunch of keys in his hand, ran furiously up to 

The jailer opened the door with terrible imprecations 
against the prisoner, who disturbed him at an hour at 
which Master Gryphus was not accustomed to be aroused. 

" Well, now, I declare he is mad, this new De Witte," 
he cried ; " but all those De Wittes have the devil in 

" Master, master," cried Cornelius, seizing the jailer 
by the arm and dragging him towards the window 
" master, what have I read down there ? " 

" Where, down there ? " 

" On that placard." 

And trembling, pale, and gasping for breath, he pointed 
to the gibbet at the other side of the yard with the cynic 
inscription surmounting it. 

Gryphus broke out in a laugh. 

" Eh ! eh ! " he answered ; " so you have read it. 
Well, my good sir, that's what people will get for cor- 
responding with the enemies of his Highness the Prince 
of Orange." 

" The brothers De Witte 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. 



"The brothers De Witte have been judged by the 
people/' said Gryphus ; " you call that murdered, do 
you ? Well, I caU it executed." 

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 

Recovering his consciousness, Cornelius found himself 
alone, and recognized the room where he was " the 
family cell," as Gryphus had called it as the fatal pas- 
sage leading to ignominious death. 

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. 

Then turning again to the concerns of earth, and hav- 
ing 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. 

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. 

At this thought Cornelius fell into a gloomy despair, 
from which he was only roused by an extraordinary cir- 

What was this circumstance ? 

We shall inform the reader in the next chapter. 


ON the same evening Gryphus, as he brought the pris- 
oner 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. 

Cornelius rushed forward towards the jailer, but 
Gryphus, who was not yet aware of the serious nature 
of his injury, called out to him, 

" It is nothing ; don't you stir." 

He then tried to support himself on his arm, but the 
bone gave way ; then only he felt the pain, and uttered 
a cry. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

Cornelius understood what was passing in the mind 
of the girl at the very moment when the suspicion arose 
in her heart. 

But one moment told her the true state of the case, 
and ashamed of her first thoughts she cast her beauti- 
ful eyes, wet with tears, on the young man, and said to 

" I beg your pardon, and thank you, sir ; the first for 
what I have thought, and the second for what you are 

Cornelius blushed, and said, " I am but doing my duty 
as a Christian in helping my neighbour." 

" Yes, and affording him your help this evening, you 
have forgotten the abuse which he heaped on you this 
morning. O sir ! this is more than humanity this is 
indeed Christian charity." 

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. 

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." 

" Hush, my father," said Rosa ; " you are unjust to 
this gentleman, whom I found endeavouring to give you 
his aid." 

" His aid ? " Gryphus replied with a doubtful air. 

"It is quite true, master ; I am quite ready to help 
you still more." 

" You ! " said Gryphus. " Are you a medical man ? " 

" It was formerly my profession." 

" And so you would be able to set my arm ? " 

" Perfectly." 

" And what would you need to do it ? let us hear." 

" Two splinters of wood, and some linen for a ban- 

" 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." 

Rosa lent the sufferer her shoulder ; he put his un- 
hurt arm round her neck, and making an effort, got on 
his legs; while Cornelius, to save him a walk, pushed a 
chair towards him. 

Gryphus sat down ; then turning towards his daughter, 
he said, 

" Well, didn't you hear ? go and fetch what is wanted." 

Rosa went down, and immediately after returned with 
two staves of a small barrel and a large roll of linen 

Cornelius had made use of the intervening moments to 
take off the man's coat and to tuck up his shirt sleeve. 

" Is this what you require, sir ? " asked Rosa. 


" Yes, miss," answered Cornelius, looking at the 
things which she had brought ; " yes, that's right. 
Now push this table whilst I support the arm of 
your father." 

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. 

At the last touch the jailer fainted a second time. 

" Go and fetch vinegar, miss," said Cornelius ; "we 
will bathe his temples, and he will recover." 

But instead of acting up to the doctor's prescription, 
Rosa, after having assured herself that her father was 
still unconscious, approached Cornelius, and said, 

" Service for service, sir." 

" What do you mean, my dear ? " said Cornelius. 

" 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 
were occupying the cell of Mynheer Cornelius de Witte, 
laughed in a very strange and disagreeable manner, 
which makes me fear that no good awaits you." 

" But," asked Cornelius, " what harm can they do 
to me ? " 

" Look at that gibbet ! " 

" But I am not guilty," said Cornelius. 

" Were they guilty whom you see down there, gib- 
beted, mangled, and torn to pieces ? " 

" That's true," said Cornelius gravely. 

" 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 


" Well, and what do you conclude from all this ? " 

" 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 

" What do you say ? " 

" I say that I was not able to save Mynheer Cornelius 
or Mynheer John de Witte, 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 ? " 

In fact Cornelius stood immovable, looking at Rosa, 
yet looking at her as if he did not hear her. 

" Don't you understand me ? " said the young girl 
with some impatience. 

" Yes, I do," said Cornelius, " but " 

" But ? " 

" I will not ; they would accuse you." 

" Never mind," said Rosa, blushing " never mind 

" You are very good, my dear child," replied Cornelius ; 
" but I stay." 

" You stay ! O sir, 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 Wittes ! " 

" Halloa ! " cried the jailer, recovering his senses ; 
" who is talking of those rogues, those wretches, those 
villains the De Wittes ? " 

" Don't be angry, my good man," said Cornelius with 



his good-tempered smile ; " the worst thing for a fr 
is excitement, by which the blood is heated." 

Thereupon he said in an undertone to Rosa, " My 
child, I am innocent, and I shall await my trial with 
tranquillity and an easy mind." 

" Hush," said Rosa. 

" Why hush ? " 

" My father must not suppose that we have been talk- 
ing to each other." 

" What harm would that do ? " 

" What harm ? He would never allow me to come 
here any more," said Rosa. 

Cornelius received this innocent confidence with a 
smile ; he felt as if a ray of good fortune was shining 
on his path. 

" Now then, what are you chattering there together 
about ? " said Gryphus, rising and supporting his right 
arm with his left. 

" Nothing," said Rosa ; " the doctor is explaining to 
me what diet you are to keep." 

" Diet diet for me ? Well, my fine girl, I shall put 
you on diet too." 

" On what diet, my father ? " 

" Never to go to the cells of the prisoners, and if ever 
you should happen to go, to leave them as soon as pos- 
sible. Come, off with me, lead the way, and be quick." 

Rosa and Cornelius exchanged glances. 

That of Rosa tried to express, 

" There, you see ? " 

That of Cornelius said, 

" Let it be as the Lord will." 



ROSA had not been mistaken. The judges came on the 
following day to the Buitenhof, and proceeded with the 
trial of Cornelius van Baerle. The examination, how- 
ever, did not last long, it having appeared on evidence 
that Cornelius had kept at his house that fatal corre- 
spondence of the brothers De Witte with France. 

He did not deny it. 

The only point about which there seemed any diffi- 
culty was whether this correspondence had been en- 
trusted to him by his godfather Cornelius de Witte. 

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 Witte himself, but he 
also stated all the circumstances under which it was done. 

This confession involved the godson in the crime of 
the godfather manifest complicity being considered to 
exist between Cornelius de Witte and Cornelius van 

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 indiffer- 
ence to politics, his love of study, of the fine arts, of science, 



and of flowers. He explained that, since the day when 
Cornelius de Witte handed to him the parcel at Dort, 
he himself had never touched nor even noticed it. 

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. 

Cornelius answered that it was indeed so ; that, how- 
ever, he never put his hand into the press but to ascer- 
tain whether his bulbs were dry, and that he never looked 
into it but to see if they were beginning to sprout. 

To this again it was objected that his pretended in- 
difference respecting this deposit was not to be reason- 
ably entertained, as he could not have received such 
papers from the hand of his godfather without being 
made acquainted with their important character. 

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. 

To this it was objected that if De Witte 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 cor- 
respondence ; or at least he would, during his trial, have 
written a letter to him which might be produced as his 

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 Baeiie ; 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 con- 
templation of one of the rarest of his bulbs, John de 
Witte'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. 

As far as Craeke was concerned, it was impossible to 
find him, as he had left Holland. 

The paper also was not very likely to be found, and 
no one gave himself the trouble to look for it. 

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. 

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 magistrates 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. 

Cornelius did not accept of this hypocritical protec- 
tion, 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, 

" 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 Pen- 


sionary 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." 

This was Van Baerle's whole defence, after which the 
judges began to deliberate on the verdict. 

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. 

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 con- 
ceal an ardent desire to revenge his friends the De Wittes. 

Another observed that the love of tulips agreed per- 
fectly 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 Conde, who watered his carna- 
tions at the dungeon of Vincennes, at the very moment 
when the former meditated his return to Rome, and the 
latter his escape from prison. 

The judge summed up with the following dilemma : 

" 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 occu- 
pied 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 a hybrid char- 
acter, of an amphibious organization, 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 mas- 
ter minds of which just now Tarquin the Elder and 
the great Conde have been felicitously quoted as 

The upshot of aU these reasonings was that his High- 
ness the Prince Stadtholder of Holland would feel in- 
finitely obliged to the magistracy of the Hague if they 
simplified for him the government of the Seven Prov- 
inces by destroying even the least germ of conspiracy 
against his authority. 

This argument capped all the others, and in order so 
much the more effectually to destroy the germ of con- 
spiracy, 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 Witte against 
Dutch nationality, and in their secret relations with their 
French enemy. 

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 Buitenhof to the 
scaffold in the yard of the same name, where the public 
executioner would cut off his head." 

As this deliberation was a most serious affair, it lasted 


a full half -hour, during which the prisoner was remanded 
to his cell. 

There the Recorder of the States came to read the 
sentence to him. 

Master Gryphus was detained in bed by the fever 
caused by the fracture of his arm. His keys had 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. 

Cornelius listened to the sentence with an expression 
rather of surprise than sadness. 

After the sentence was read the Recorder asked him 
whether he had anything to answer. 

" Indeed I have not," he replied. " Only I confess 
that, among all the causes of death against which a cau- 
tious man may guard, I should never have supposed this 
to be comprised." 

On this answer the Recorder saluted Van Baerle with 
all that consideration which such functionaries generally 
bestow upon great criminals of every sort. 

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 ? " 

" Well, to-day," answered the Recorder, a little sur- 
prised by the self-possession of the condemned man. 

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. 

" And," continued Cornelius, " what hour is ap- 
pointed ? " 

" Twelve o'clock, sir." 

" Indeed ! " said Cornelius. " I think I heard the clock 


strike ten about twenty minutes ago. I have not much 
time to spare." 

" 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." 

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. 

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 turn- 
key. 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 
thus was guarded above by himself and below by the 
dog. The head-dress turned round, and Cornelius be- 
held the face of Rosa, blanched with grief, and her beau- 
tiful eyes streaming with tears. 

She went up to Cornelius, crossing her arms on her 
heaving breast. 

" O sir, sir I " she said, but sobs choked her utter- 

" My good girl," Cornelius replied with emotion, " what 
do you wish ? I may tell you that my time on earth is 

" I come to ask a favour of you," said Rosa, extend- 
ing her arms partly towards him and partly towards 

" 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." 

She fell on her knees. " Forgive my father," she said. 

" Your father, your father ! " said Cornelius, astonished. 

" 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." 

" He is punished, my dear Rosa, more than punished, 
by the accident that has befallen him, and I forgive him." 

" I thank you, sir," said Rosa. " And now tell me 
oh, tell me can I do anything for you ? " 

" You can dry your beautiful eyes, my dear child," 
answered Cornelius with a good-tempered smile. 

" But what can I do for you for you I mean ? " 

" A man who has only one hour longer to live must be 
a great Sybarite still to want anything, my dear Rosa." 

" The clergyman whom they have proposed to you ? " 

" 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." 

" O Mynheer Cornelius, speak, speak ! " exclaimed 
Rosa, still bathed in tears. 

" Give me your hand, and promise me not to laugh, 
my dear child." 

" Laugh ! " exclaimed Rosa, frantic with grief " laugh 
at this moment ! But do you not see my tears ? " 

" Rosa, you are no stranger to me. I have not seen 
much of you, but that little is enough to make me appre- 
ciate 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." 

Rosa felt a shudder creeping over her frame, for whilst 
the prisoner pronounced these words the belfry clock 
of the Buitenhof struck eleven. 

Cornelius understood her. "Yes, yes; let us make 
haste," he said ; " you are right, Rosa." 

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 grand 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 hun- 
dred 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." 

" Mynheer Cornelius ! " 

" 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 aban- 
doned by everyoody, as in this sad hour you alone are 
with me in my prison, consoling and assisting me." 

" But, sir, a hundred thousand guilders ! " 

"Well, let us talk seriously, my dear child. Those 
hundred thousand guilders will be a nice marriage por- 
tion, with your pretty face. You shall have them, for I 
am quite sure of my bulb. 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 min- 
utes more." 

The poor girl was nearly choking with her sobs. 

Cornelius took her by the hand. 

" Listen to me," he continued. " I'll teach 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 Presi- 
dent of the Haarlem Society. He will cause the colour 
of the flower to be proved before the committee, and 
those hundred thousand guilders will be paid to you." 

Rosa heaved a deep sigh. " And now," continued 
Cornelius, wiping away a tear which was glistening in 
his eye, and which was shed much more for that marvel- 
lous 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 Barlceensis ' 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." 

Rosa sobbed afresh, and handed to him a book bound 
in shagreen which bore the initials " C. W." 

" What is this ? " asked the prisoner. 

" Alas ! " replied Rosa, "it is the Bible of your poor 
godfather Cornelius de Witte. From it he derived 
strength to endure the torture, and to hear 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 power which is quite heavenly. 
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." 

Cornelius took the Bible and kissed it reverently. 

" With what shall I write ? " asked Cornelius. 

" There is a pencil in the Bible," said Rosa. 

This was the pencil which John de Witte had lent to 
his brother, and which he had forgotten to take away 
with him. 

Cornelius took it, and on the last 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, 

" On this day, the 23rd 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 good which has remained 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, re- 
questing that she may be paid the same sum in my stead, 
as my sole heiress, under the only condition of her marry- 
ing a respectable young man of about my age, who loves 
her and whom she loves, and of her giving the Grand 
Black Tulip, which will constitute a new species, the 
name of ' Rosa Barl&ensis ' that is to say, hers and mine 

" So may God grant me mercy, and to her health and 
long life ! CORNELIUS VAN BAERLE.'' 

The prisoner, then giving the Bible to Rosa, said, 

" Read." 

" Alas ! " she answered, " I have already told you I 
cannot read." 

Cornelius then read to Rosa the testament that he 
had made. 

The agony of the poor girl almost overpowered 

" Do you accept my conditions ? " asked the prisoner, 
with a melancholy smile, kissing the trembling hands of 
the afflicted girl. 

" Oh, I don't know, sir/' she stammered. 

" You don't know, child ? And why not ? " 

" Because there is one condition which I am afraid I 
cannot keep." 

" Which ? I should have thought that all was settled 
between us." 


" You give me the hundred thousand guilders as a 
marriage portion, don't you ? " 

" Yes." 

" And under the condition of my marrying a man 
whom I love ? " 

" Certainly." 

" Well, then, sir, this money cannot belong to me. 
I shall never love any one ; neither shall I marry." 

And after having with difficulty uttered these words, 
Rosa almost swooned away in the violence of her grief. 

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 stair- 
case, amidst the continued barking of the dog. 

" They are coming to fetch you. O God ! O God ! " 
cried Rosa, wringing her hands. " And have you nothing 
more to tell me ? " 

She fell on her knees, with her face buried in her hands, 
and became almost senseless. 

" I have only to say that I wish you to preserve these 
bulbs as the 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." 

" 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." 

She then put that cherished treasure next her beating 

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. 


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. 

Then, casting a glance into the yard through the nar- 
row 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 Witte had been taken 

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 hal- 
berds, only a form lying outstretched near a wooden 
bench, and a death-like face half covered with long 
golden locks. 

But whilst falling down senseless, Rosa, still obeying 
her friend, had pressed her hand on her velvet bodice, 
and forgetting everything in the world besides, instinc- 
tively grasped the precious deposit which Cornelius had 
entrusted to her care. 

Leaving the cell, the young man could still see in the 
convulsively-clenched fingers of Rosa the yellowish leaf 
from that Bible on which Cornelius de Witte had with 
such difficulty and pain written those few lines, which, 
if Van Baerle had read them, would undoubtedly have 
been the saving of a man and a tulip. 



CORNELIUS had not three hundred paces to walk outside 
the prison to reach the foot of the scaffold. At the bot- 
tom 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 

The dog perhaps knew the condemned prisoners, and 
only bit those who left as free men. 

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. 

These were the same who, not satisfied with the blood 
which they had shed three days before, were now craving 
for a new victim. 

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. 

The scaffold indeed looked like an islet at the con- 
fluence of several rivers. 

In the midst of these threats, groans, and yells, Cor- 


nelius, very likely in order not to hear them, had buried 
himself in his own thoughts. 

And what did he think of in his last melancholy 
journey ? 

Neither of his enemies, nor of his judges, nor of his 

He thought of the beautiful tulips which he would 
see from heaven above, at Ceylon or Bengal or else- 
where, when he would be able to look with pity on this 
earth, where John and Cornelius de Witte 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. 

" It is only one stroke of the axe," said the philosopher 
to himself, " and my beautiful dream will begin to be 

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 martyr- 
dom on the poor tulip-fancier. 

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 Witte whom the ruffians, who were 
now crowding to witness his own doom, had torn to 
pieces and burnt three days before. 

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 

At length the fatal moment arrived, and Cornelius 


placed his chin on the cold, damp block. But in 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. 

A gleam like that of lightning passed across the scaffold ; 
it was the executioner raising his sword. 

Van Baerle bade farewell to the grand black tulip, 
certain of awaking in another world full of light and 
glorious tints. 

Three times he felt, with a shudder, the cold stream 
of air from the knife coming near his neck. But what a 
surprise ! He felt neither pain nor shock. 

He saw no change in the colour of the sky and of the 
world around him. 

Then suddenly Van Baerle felt gentle hands raising 
him, and soon stood on his feet again, although trembling 
a little. 

He looked around him. There was some one by his 
side, reading a large parchment, sealed with a huge seal 
of red wax. 

And the same sun, yellow and pale as it behoves a 
Dutch sun to be, was shining in the skies ; and the same 
grated window looked down upon him from the Buitenhof . 

And the same rabble, no longer yelling, but completely 
thunderstruck, was staring at him from the streets below. 

Van Baerle began to be sensible to what was going on 
around Lim. 

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. 

His Highness accordingly had granted him his life. 


Cornelius at first hoped that the pardon would be com- 
plete, and that he would be restored to his full liberty 
and to his flower-borders at Dort. 

But Cornelius was mistaken. To use an expression 
of Madame de Sevigne, who wrote about the same time, 
" there was a postscript to the letter," and the most 
important point of the letter was contained in the post- 

In this postscript, William of Orange, Stadtholder of 
Holland, condemned Cornelius van Baerle to imprison- 
ment for life. He was not sufficiently guilty to suffer 
death, but he was too much so to be set at liberty. 

Cornelius heard this clause ; but, the first feeling of 
vexation and disappointment over, he said to himself, 

" Never mind all 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." 

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. 

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 
Loevestein, very near Dort, but, alas ! also very far from 
it ; for Lcevestein, as the geographers tell as, is situated 
at the point of the islet which is formed by the conflu- 
ence of the Waal and the Meuse, opposite Gorcum. 

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 Barneveldte; 
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 

"I," said 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." 

Then suddenly a terrible thought struck him. 

" 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 Lcevestein ! " 



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 

His last look was towards the Buitenhof. He hoped 
to see at the window the face of Rosa, brightening up 
again. 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 mag- 
nanimous Stadtholder, mixing with it a spice of abuse 
against the brothers De Witte and the godson of Cor- 
nelius, who had just now been saved from death. 

This reprieve suggested to the worthy spectators re- 
marks such as the following, 

" It's very fortunate that we used such speed in hav- 
ing 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." 

Among all the spectators whom Van Baerle's execu- 
tion had attracted to the Buitenhof, and whom the 
sudden turn of affairs had disagreeably surprised, un- 
doubtedly 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. 

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. 

The most furious had come to the Buitenhof at day- 
break, 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 wstro that is to 
say, coaxing some and kicking the others. 

And when the executioner had brought 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, 

" It's a bargain, isn't it ? " 

The executioner answered by another sign, which was 
meant to say, 
1 " Be quiet ; it's all right." 

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 suckers of the 
black tulip. 

Boxtel had at first tried to bring over Gryphus to his 
interest ; but the jailer had not only the snarling fierce- 
ness but likewise the fidelity of a dog. He had there- 
fore bristled up at Boxtel's hatred, whom he suspected 
to be a warm friend of the prisoner, making trifling in- 
quiries to contrive with the more certainty some means 
of escape for him. 

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 an- 
swered by kicking Mynheer Isaac out and setting the 
dog at him. 

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 his 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 for her a head-dress of pure gold if she would 
but 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. 

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. 

Isaac had not the least doubt but that Cornelius would 
die with his bulbs on his heart. 

But there were two things which Boxtel did not calcu- 
late upon. 

Rosa that is to say, love. 

William of Orange that is to say, clemency. 

But for Rosa and William the calculations of the en- 
vious neighbour would have been correct. 

But for William, Cornelius would have died. 

But for Rosa, Cornelius would have died with his bulbs 
on his heart. 

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. 

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 ? 

It was money lent at a thousand per cent., which, as 
nobody will deny, was a very handsome investment. 

The headsman, on the other hand, had scarcely any- 
thing to do to earn his hundred guilders. He needed 
only, as soon as the execution was over, to allow Myn- 
heer Boxtel to ascend the scaffold with his servants to 
remove the inanimate remains of his friend. 

The thing was, moreover, quite customary among the 
" faithful brethren " when one of their masters died a 
public death in the yard of the Buitenhof . 

A fanatic like Cornelius might very easily have found 
another fanatic who gave a hundred guilders for his 

The executioner also readily acquiesced in the pro- 
posal, making only one condition that of being paid in 

Boxtel, like the people who enter a show at a fair, 
might not be pleased, and refuse to pay on going out. 

Boxtel paid in advance and waited. 

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 in- 
estimable bulbs? Had not he at least taken care to 


dest of 

enclose them in a golden box, as gold is the hardest 
all metals ? 

Every trifling delay irritated him. Why did that 
stupid executioner thus lose his time in brandishing his 
sword over the head of Cornelius, instead of cutting that 
head off ? 

But when he saw the Recorder take the hand of the 
condemned and raise him, whilst drawing forth the parch- 
ment 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 hyaena, 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. 

And so, then, Cornelius was to live, and was to go to 
Loevestein, 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. 

Boxtel, quite overcome by his frenzy, fell from the 
stone on some Orangemen, who, like him, were sorely 
vexed at the turn which affairs had taken. They, mis- 
taking the frantic cries of Mynheer Isaac for demon- 
strations 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. 

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. 


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 punish- 
ment of tearing out his hair by handfuls, as an offering 
to that goddess of envy who, as mythology teaches us, 
has for her head-dress only a set of serpents. 



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. 

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 Barneveldte happened to be 
vacant when the clemency of the Prince of Orange sent 
the tulip-fancier Van Baerle there. 

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 thence in that famous book- 
chest which the jailers forgot to examine. 

On the other hand, it seemed to Van Baerle an auspi- 
cious 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. 

The cell has 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. 


Cornelius himself felt 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. 

A flower and a woman, both of them, as he conceived, 
lost to him for ever. 

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. 

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 chim- 
neys, he saw flocks of pigeons coming from that quar- 
ter, to perch fluttering on the pointed gable ends of 

These pigeons, Van Baerle said to himself, are com- 
ing 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, 

" I will do it." 

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. 

Van Baerle, from whose thoughts the three bulbs were 
never absent, made a snare for catching the pigeons, bait- 
ing the birds with all the resources of his kitchen, such 
as it was, for eight stivers (sixpence English) a day ; 
and after a month of unsuccessful attempts he at last 
caught a female bird. 


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. 

She returned in the evening. She had preserved the 

Thus it went on for fifteen days, at first to the dis- 
appointment and then to the great grief of Van Baerle. 

On the sixteenth day, at last, she came back with- 
out it. 

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 speedily as possible. 

In this letter there was a little note enclosed for Rosa. 

Van Baerle's nurse had received a letter in the follow- 
ing way. 

Leaving Dort, Mynheer Isaac Boxtel had abandoned 
not only his house, his servant, his observatory, and his 
telescope, but also his pigeons. 

The servant having been left without wages, first lived 
on his little savings and then on his master's pigeons. 

Seeing this, the pigeons emigrated from the roof of 
Isaac Boxtel to that of Cornelius van Baerle. 

The nurse was a kind-hearted woman, who could not 
live without having something to love. She conceived 
an affection for the pigeons which had thrown them- 
selves 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 considera- 
tion of six stivers per head. 


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. 

The note, as we have said, had reached Van Baerle's 

And also it came to pass that one evening in the begin- 
ning 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. 

He put his hand on his heart and listened. 

It was the sweet, harmonious voice of Rosa. 

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. 

He rose, listened once more, and bent forward towards 
the door. 

Yes, they were indeed the accents which had fallen so 
sweetly on his heart at the Hague. 

The question now was, whether Rosa, who had made 
the journey from the Hague to Lcevestein, 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. 

Whilst Cornelius, debating this point within himself, 
was building all sorts of castles in the air, and was strug- 
gling 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 mo: 
had blanched her cheeks pressed her little face against 
the wire grating of the window, saying to him, 

" O sir, sir, here I am ! " 

Cornelius stretched out his arms, and, looking to heaven, 
uttered a cry of joy. 

" O Rosa, Rosa ! " 

" Hush I let us speak low ; my father follows on my 
heels/' said the girl. 

"Your father?" 

" Yes : he is in the courtyard at the bottom of the 
staircase, receiving the instructions of the Governor ; 
he will presently come up/' 

" The instructions of the Governor ? x> 

" 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 Loevestein. 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." 

" And so you are here ? " 

" As you see/' 

" And thus I shall see you every day ? " 

" As often as I can manage it." 

"0 Rosa, my beautiful Rosa, do you love me a 
little ? " 


" A little ? " she said ; " you make no great preten- 
sions, Mynheer Cornelius." 

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. 

" Here is my father," said she. 

Rosa then abruptly drew back from the door and 
ran to meet old Gryphus, who made his appearance at 
the top of the staircase. 



GRYPHUS was followed by the mastiff. 

The turnkey took the animal round the jail, so that 
if needs be he might recognize the prisoners. 

" Father," said Rosa, " here is the famous prison from 
which Mynheer Grotius escaped. You know Mynheer 
Grotius ? " 

" Oh yes ; that rogue Grotius a friend of that villain 
Barneveldte, 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." 

And thus opening the door he began in the dark to 
talk to the prisoner. 

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 exe- 

But the fair Rosa called him to her side. 

" 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'm not vicious, but I'm not to be 
trifled with as far as discipline goes." 

" My good Master Gryphus, I know you perfectly 
well/' said the prisoner, approaching to within the circle 
of light cast around by the lantern. 

" Halloa I that's you, Mynheer van Baerle," said 
Gryphus. " That's you. Well, I declare, it's astonish- 
ing how people do meet." 

" 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." 

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." 

" Don't say so," replied Cornelius. "Why not ? " 

" Because you are the very man to conspire again. 
You learned people have dealings with the devil." 

" 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. 

" 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 Buitenhof, 
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." 

" And you did not want that ? " 

" 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.'" 


" But if you laugh at thedevil, Master Gryphus, you ou 
with so much more reason to laugh at learned people." 

" 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 as 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." 

"I assure you, Master Gryphus," replied Van Baerle, 
" that if I have entertained the idea of escaping, I most 
decidedly have it no longer." 

" 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." 

" Not to have cut off my head ? Thank you, Master 

" Just so ; look whether the Mynheers de Witte don't 
keep very quiet now." 

" 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 un- 
fortunate gentlemen was my friend, and the other my 
second father." 

" Yes, but I also remember that the one as well as the 
other is a conspirator. And, moreover, I am speaking 
from Christian charity." 

" Oh, indeed ; explain that a little to me, my good 
Master Gryphus. I do not quite understand it." 


" Well, then, if you had remained on the block of 
Master Harbruck 

" What ? " 

" You would not suffer any longer ; whereas I will not 
disguise it from you I shall lead you a sad life of it." 

" Thank you for the promise, Master Gryphus." 

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/' 

Gryphus stepped towards the window. 

It was still light enough to see, although indistinctly, 
through the gray haze of the evening the vast expanse 
of the horizon. 

" What view has one from here ? " asked Gryphus. 

" Why, a very fine and pleasant one," said Cornelius, 
looking at Rosa. 

" Yes, yes; too much of a view too much." 

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 even- 
ing mist, 

" Halloa I what's this ? " cried Gryphus. 

" My pigeons/' answered Cornelius. 

" Your pigeons," cried the jailer, " your pigeons ! 
Has a prisoner anything of his own ? " 

" Why, then," said Cornelius, " the pigeons which a 
merciful Father in heaven has lent to me." 

"So, here we have a breach of the rules already," 
replied Gryphus, " Pigeons I Ah, young man, young 
man, I'll tell you one thing that before to-morrow is 
over your pigeons will boil in my pot/ 7 

" First of ail, 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." 

" 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." 

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, 

" At nine o'clock this evening." 

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 promises to 
the other prisoners. 

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. 

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. 

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 pres- 
ence of Rosa had reawakened in his heart. 

He waited eagerly to hear the clock of the tower of 
Loevestein strike nine. 


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. 

The shutter opened on the outside. 

" Here I am," said Rosa, out of breath from running 
up the stairs ; " here I am." 

" O my good Rosa ! " 

" You are then glad to see me ? " 

" Can you ask ? But how did you contrive to get 
here ? Tell me." 

" 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." 

" Oh, I thank you, Rosa, dear Rosa." 

Saying these words, Cornelius put his face so near the 
little window that Rosa withdrew hers. 

" I have brought back to you your bulbs." 

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 entrusted to her. 

" Oh, you have preserved them, then ? " 

" Did you not give them to me as a thing which was 
dear to you ? " 

" Yes, but as I have given them to you, it seems to 
me that they belong to you." 

" They would have belonged to me after your death ; 
but fortunately you are alive now. Oh, how I blessed 


i all 

his Highness in my heart ! If God grants to him 
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 at Loeve- 
stein, when your housekeeper brought me your letter. 
Oh, how we wept together. But your letter only con- 
firmed me the more in my resolution. I then left for 
Ley den, and the rest you know/* 

" What ! my dear Rosa, you thought, even before re- 
ceiving my letter, of coming to meet me again ? " 

" If I thought of it ? " said Rosa, allowing her love to 
get the better of her bashfulness. " I thought of nothing 

And saying these words, Rosa looked so exceedingly 
pretty that for the second time Cornelius placed his fore- 
head and lips against the wire grating of course, we 
must presume, with the laudable desire to thank the 
young lady. 

Rosa, however, drew back as before. 

" In truth," she said, with that coquetry which some- 
how 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." 

" So you have often regretted not being able to read," 
said Cornelius. " I should just like to know on what 


" Troth," said she, laughing, " to read all the letters 
which were written to me." 

" Oh, you received letters, Rosa ? " 

" By hundreds 1 " 

" But who wrote to you ? " 

" Who ? Why, in the first place, all the students who 
passed over the Buitenhof, all the officers who went to 
parade, all the clerks, and even the merchants who saw 
me at my little window." 

" And what did you do with all these notes, my dear 
Rosa ? " 

" 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." 

" Since a certain time ! " exclaimed Cornelius, with a 
look beaming with love and joy. 

Rosa cast down her eyes, blushing. In her sweet con- 
fusion 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. 

At this sudden, outburst of tenderness, Rosa grew as 
pale and 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. 

And thus Cornelius was again alone. 

Rosa had fled so precipitately that she completely 
forgot to return to Cornelius the three bulbs of the 
Black Tulip. 



THE worthy Master Gryphus, as the reader may have 
seen, was far from sharing the kindly feelings of his 
daughter for the godson of Cornelius de Witte. 

There being only five prisoners at Lcevestein, the post 
of turnkey was not a very onerous one, but rather a sort 
of sinecure, given after a long period of service. 

But the worthy jailer, in his zeal, had magnified, with 
all the power of his imagination, the importance of his 

To him Cornelius had swelled to the gigantic propor- 
tions 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. 

Three times a day he entered Van Baerle's cell, ex- 
pecting to find him trespassing ; but Cornelius had 
ceased to correspond, since his correspondent was at 
hand. It is even probable that if Cornelius had ob- 
tained 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. 

Rosa, in fact, had promised to come and see him every 
evening, and from the first evening she had kept her 

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. 

But to the great astonishment of Rosa, Van Baerle 
pushed back her white hand with the tips of his fingers. 

The young man had been considering about the 

" 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 grand 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." 

Rosa was all attention to what he would say, much 
more on account of the importance which the unfor- 
tunate tulip-fancier attached to it than that she felt 
interested in the matter herself. 

" I will explain to you, Rosa," he said. " I dare say 
you have in this fortress a small garden, or some court- 
yard, or, if not that, at least some terrace/' 




" We have a very fine garden," said Rosa ; " it runs 
along the edge of the Waal, and is full of fine old trees." 

" Could you bring me some soil from the garden, t 
I may judge ? " 

" I will do so to-morrow/ 

" 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." 

" Be assured I shall." 

" After having chosen the soil, and, if it be necessary, 
modified it, we will divide our three suckers. 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.'* 

" I will not lose sight of it for a minute." 

" 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 ! " 

" 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." 

" 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." 

" I promise you I will." 

" And when you have once planted it, you will com- 
municate 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." 

" I will listen." 

" On moonlight nights. Have you ever looked at 
your garden, my dear child ? " 

" The window of my sleeping-room overlooks it." 

" 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." 

" I will observe, and if there are cats or rats " 

"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." 

" What animal ? " 

" 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.'* 

" No one ever enters the garden but myself." 

" Thank you, thank you, my dear Rosa. All the joy 
of my life has still to come from you." 

And as the lips of Van Baerle approached the grating 
with the same ardour as the day before, and as, more- 
over, the hour for retiring had struck, Rosa drew back 
her head and stretched out her hand. 

In this pretty little hand, of which the coquettish 
damsel was particularly proud, was the bulb. 

Cornelius kissed most tenderly the tips of her fingers. 
Did he do so because his hand kept one of the bulbs of 
the Grand Black Tulip, or because this hand was Rosa's ? 
We shall leave this point to the decision of wiser heads 
than ours. 

Rosa withdrew with the two other suckers, pressing 
them to her heart. 

Did she press them to her heart because they were the 
bulbs of the Grand Black Tulip, or because she had 
them from Cornelius ? 

This point, we believe, might be more readily decided 
than the other. 

However that may have been, from that moment 
life became sweet, and again full of interest to the 

Rosa, as we have seen, had returned to him one of the 

Every evening she brought to him, handful by hand- 
ful, a quantity of soil from that part of the garden 
which he had found to be the best, and which, indeed, 
was excellent. 


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 excel- 
lent soil. 

Then, at the beginning of April, he planted his first 
sucker in that jug. 

Not a day passed on which Rosa did not come to 
have her chat with Cornelius. 

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 sub- 
ject was, people cannot always talk about tulips. 

They therefore began to chat also about other things, 
and the tulip-fancier found out, to his great astonish- 
ment, what a vast range of subjects a conversation may 

Only Rosa had made it a habit to keep her pretty face 
invariably six inches distant from the grating, having, 
perhaps, become mistrustful of herself. 

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 

Indeed, Van Baerle's happiness depended on the whim 
of this man. He might one day find Lcevestein 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. 

" 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 ? " 


" Well," answered Rosa, who in her heart was 
much afraid of a separation as Cornelius himself, " 
have one hour every evening ; let us make a good 
of it." 

" I don't think we make such a bad use of it as 
it is." 

" Let us employ it even better," said Rosa, smiling. 
" Teach me to read and to 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 

" Oh, then, we have eternity before us," said Cor- 

Rosa smiled, and quietly shrugged her shoulders. 

" 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 hang- 
man ? " 

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. 

She, however, smilingly interrupted him, saying, 
" How is your tulip going on ? " 

To speak to Cornelius of his tulip was an expedient 
resorted to by her to make him forget everything, even 
Rosa herself. 

" Pretty 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 ? " 

" Oh, I have done things on a large scale, and ac- 
cording to your directions." 

" Now, let me hear, Rosa, what you have done," said 
Cornelius, with as tender an anxiety as he had lately 
shown to herself. 

" 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 
soil slightly mixed with sand, rather moist than dry, 
without a fragment of stone or pebble." 

" Well done, Rosa, well done ! " 

" 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." 

" 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." 

" Don't forget," said Rosa, smiling, " that your 
pupil, as you call me, has still other things to learn 
besides the cultivation of tulips." 

' Yes, yes ; and I am as anxious as you are, Rosa, 
that you should learn to read." 

" When shall we begin ? " 

" At once." 

" No, to-morrow." 

" Why to-morrow ? " 

" Because to-day our hour is expired, and I must 
leave you." 


" Already ? But what shall we read ? " 

" Oh," said Rosa, " I have a book a book which I 
hope will bring us luck." 

" To-morrow, then." 

' Yes, to-morrow." 

On the following evening Rosa returned with the 
Bible of Cornelius De Witte. 



ON the following evening, as we have said, Rosa re- 
turned with the Bible of Cornelius de Witte. 

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. 

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 sufficient for them to read each other's faces. 

Rosa, therefore, had to press the open book against the 
grating edgeways, 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. 

The light of the lamp illuminated the rich complexion 
of Rosa, her blue liquid eye, 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 


Rosa's intellect rapidly developed itself under tl 
animating influence of the mind of Cornelius, and when 
the difficulties seemed too arduous, the sympathy of 
two loving hearts seemed to smooth them away. 

And Rosa, after having returned to her room, re- 
peated in her solitude the reading lessons, but at the 
same time recalled all the delight which she had felt 
whilst receiving them. 

One evening she came half an hour later than usual. 
This was too extraordinary an incident not to call forth 
at once Cornelius's inquiries after its cause. 

" 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." 

' You don't know anything further of him ? " asked 
Cornelius, surprised. 

" 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." 

" 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 

" I don't believe that," said Rosa, smiling. " If that 
worthy person is spying after any one, it is certainly not 
after my father." 

" After whom, then ? " 

" Me, for instance." 


" You ? " 

" Why not ? " said Rosa, smiling. 

" Ah, that's true," Cornelius observed with a sigh. 
" You will not always have suitors in vain ; this man 
may become your husband." 

" I don't say anything to the contrary." 

" What cause have you to entertain such a happy 
prospect ? " 

" Rather say this fear, Mynheer Cornelius." 

"Thank you, Rosa; you are right. Well, I will say 
then this fear ? " 

" I have only this reason " 

" Tell me ; I am anxious to hear." 

" This man came several times before to the Buiten- 

. hof, 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." 

" See me ? " 

" 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." 

" Go on, Rosa, pray do, that I may guess who that 
man is and what he wants." 

" Are you quite sure, Mynheer Cornelius, that none 
of your friends can interest himself for you ? " 

" 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 
111 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." 

" Then I come back to what I thought before, and 
the more so as last evening at sunset, whilst I was arrang- 
ing the border where I am to plant your bulb, I saw a 
shadow gliding between the elder 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." 

" Oh ! yes, yes, he is in love with you," said Cornelius. 
" Is he young ? is he handsome ? " 

Saying this, he looked anxiously at Rosa, eagerly 
waiting for her answer. 

" 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." 

" And his name ? " 

" Jacob Gisels." 

" I don't know him." 

" Then you see that, at all events, he does not come 
after you." 

"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.'* 

" To be sure I don't." 

' Then you wish me to keep my mind easy ? " 

" I should certainly ask you to do so." 

" 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 ? " 

" I shall read it, if you write with good big letters." 

Then, as the turn which the conversation took began 
to make Rosa uneasy, she asked, 

" By-the-bye, how is your tulip going on ? " 

" O 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 Buitenhof." 

" You hope, then ? " said Rosa, smiling. 

" Yes, yes, I hope." 

" And I, in my turn, when shall I plant my bulb ? " 

" 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 con- 
noisseur, 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 

"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." 

" How ? already ? " 

" It must be, it must be." 

" Coming so late, and going so soon." 

" My father might grow impatient, not seeing me 
return, and that precious lover might suspect a rival," 

Here she listened uneasily, 



" What is it ? " asked Van Baerle. 

" I thought I heard something." 

" What, then ? " 

" Something like a step creaking on the staircase. 

" Surely," said the prisoner, " that cannot be master 
Gryphus ; he is always heard at a distance." 

" No, it is not my father, I am quite sure, but 

" But ? " 

" But it might be Mynheer Jacob." 

Rosa rushed towards the staircase, and a door was 
really heard rapidly to close, before the young damsel 
had got down the first ten steps. 

Cornelius was very uneasy about it ; but it was, after 
all, only a prelude to greater anxieties. 

The following 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. 

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. 

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 

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. 

" What have you got here?" he roared. "Ah! 
have I caught you ? " And with this he grubbed in the 

" I ? Nothing, nothing," cried Cornelius, trembling. 

"Ah! have I caught you? a jug, and earth in it; 
there is some criminal secret at the bottom of all this." 

" O my good Master Gryphus," said Van Baerle 
imploringly, and anxious, like the partridge robbed of 
her young by the reaper. 

In fact, Gryphus was beginning to dig the soil with 
his crooked fingers. 

' Take care, sir, take care," said Cornelius, growing 
quite pale. 

" Care of what ? zounds ! of what ? " roared the 

" Take care, I say ; you will crush it, Master Gryphus ! " 

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. 

But Gryphus, obstinate, like an old man, and more 
and more convinced that he was discovering here a con- 
spiracy against the Prince of Orange, rushed up to his 
prisoner, raising his stick ; seeing, however, the impas- 
sible resolution of the captive to protect his flower-pot, 
he was convinced that Cornelius trembled much less for 
his head than for his jug. 

He, therefore, tried to wrest it from him by force. 


>u see, 

" Halloa ! " said the jailer, furious, " here you 
you are rebelling." 

" Leave me my tulip," cried Van Baerle. 

" Ah yes, tulip," replied the old man ; " we know well 
the shifts of prisoners." 

" But I vow to you " 

" Let go," repeated Gryphus, stamping his foot- -"let 
go, or I shall call the guard." 

" Call whoever you like, but you shall not have this 
flower except with my life." 

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. 

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 Pel- 
lisson's spider. 

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 re- 
mained in it. One instant more, and he would have 
flung it on the bald head of old Gryphus. 

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. 

Gryphus then understood the danger with which he 
had been threatened, and he broke out in a volley of 
the most terrible abuse. 

"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." 

" For shame, my father," Rosa chimed in ; " it is indeed 
a crime you have committed here." 

" Ah, is that you, my little chatterbox ? " 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." 

" Unfortunate me," continued Cornelius, overwhelmed 
with grief. 

" 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." 

" To the devil with your tulips ! " cried Cornelius ; 
" you are worthy of each other. Had I a hundred thou- 
sand millions of them, I would gladly give them for the 
one which you have just destroyed ! " 

" Ah ! 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." 

" Father, father ! " cried Rosa. 

" 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 ? " 

" 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. 

" 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. 


ROSA had scarcely pronounced these consolatory words, 
when a voice was heard from the staircase, asking Gryphus 
how matters were going on. 

" Do you hear, father ? " said Rosa. 

" What ? " 

" Master Jacob calls you ; he is uneasy." 

" 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 

Then, pointing with his finger towards the staircase, 
he said to Rosa, " Just lead the way, Miss c " 

After this, he locked the door and called out, " I shall 
be with you directly, friend Jacob." 

Poor Cornelius, thus left alone with his bitter grief, 
muttered to himself, 

" Ah ! you old hangman, it is me you have trodden 
under foot; you have murdered me; I shall not sur- 
vive it ! " 

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. 


In the evening she came back. Her first words an- 
nounced to Cornelius that henceforth her father 
would no longer make any objection to his cultivating 

" And how do you know that ? " the prisoner asked, 
with a doleful look. 

" I know it, because he has said so." 

" To deceive me, perhaps/' 

"No; he repents." 

" Ah ! yes, but too late." 

" This repentance is not of himself." 

" And who put it into him ? " 

" If you only knew how his friend scolded him." 

" Ah, Master Jacob. He does not leave you, then, that 
Master Jacob ? " 

" At any rate, he leaves us as little as he can help." 

Saying this, she smiled in such a way that the little 
cloud of jealousy which had darkened the brow of Cor- 
nelius speedily vanished. 

" How was it ? " asked the prisoner. 

" 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." 

Cornelius heaved a sigh, which might have been 
called a groan. 

" 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 clenched his fist for a moment ; 
I thought he would have strangled my father. 

" ' You have done that/ he cried ; ' you have crushed 
the bulb ? ' 

" ' Indeed I have/ 


' It is infamous/ said Master Jacob, ' it is odious ! 
You have committed a great crime ! ' 

" My father was quite dumbfounded. 

" ' Are you mad, too ? ' he asked his friend." 

" Oh ! what a worthy man is this Master Jacob," 
muttered Cornelius " an honest soul, an excellent heart, 
that he is." 

" 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, 

" ' Crushed, crushed the bulb ; my God, my God ! 
crushed ! ' 

" Then, turning towards me he asked, ' But it was 
not the only one that he had ? ' ' 

" Did he ask that ? " inquired Cornelius, with some 

" ' You think it was not the only one ? ' said my 
father. ' Very well; we shall search for the others.' 

" ' 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 ? ' 

" 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, 

" ' What did he say ? Didn't he fume and fret ? ' 

" I interrupted him, saying, ' Was it not natural that he 
should be furious, you were so unjust and brutal, father ? ' 

" ' 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 


" ' Perhaps some less precious one than that was/ I 
incautiously replied." 

" And what did Jacob say or do at these words?" 
asked Cornelius. 

" At these words, if I must say it, his eyes seemed 
to flash like lightning." 

" But," said Cornelius, " that was not all ; I am sure 
he said something in his turn." 

" ' So then, my pretty Rosa/ he said, with a voice as 
sweet as honey ' so you think that bulb to have been a 
precious one ? ' 

" I saw that I had made a blunder. 

" ' What do I know ? ' I said negligently ; ' do I under- 
stand anything of tulips ? I only know as unfortu- 
nately 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/ 

" ' But, first of all/ said my father, ' we ought to know 
how he has contrived to procure this bulb/ 

" I turned my eyes away to avoid my father's look ; 
but I met those of Jacob. 

" It was as if he had tried to read my thoughts at the 
bottom of my heart. 

" Some little show of anger sometimes saves an answer. 
I shrugged my shoulders, turned my back, and advanced 
towards the door. 

" But I was kept by something which I heard, although 
it was uttered in a very low voice only. 

" Jacob said to my father, 

" ' It would not be so difficult to ascertain that/ 

" ' How so ? ' 


" ' You need only search his person ; and if he has 
the other bulbs, we shall find them, as there usually are 
three suckers ! ' " 

" Three suckers ! " cried Cornelius; " did he say that 
I have three ? " 

" 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. 

" ' But/ said my father, ' perhaps he has not got his 
bulbs about him/ 

" ' Then take him down, under some pretext or other, 
and I will search his cell in the meanwhile/ ' 

" Halloa, halloa ! " said Cornelius ; " but this Mr. 
Jacob of yours is a villain, it seems." 

" I am afraid he is." 

" Tell me, Rosa," continued Cornelius, with a pen- 
sive air. 

14 What ? " 

" Did not you tell me that on the day when you pre- 
pared your border this man followed you ? " 

" So he did." 

" That he glided like a shadow behind the elder- 
trees ? " 

" Certainly." 

" That not one of your movements escaped him ? " 

" Not one, indeed." 

" Rosa," said Cornelius, growing quite pale. 

" Well ? " 

" It was not you he was after." 

" Who else, then ? " 

" It is not you that he is in love with." 

" But with whom else ? " 


" He was after my bulb, and is in love with my tulip ! " 

" You don't say so ! and yet it is very possible," said 

" Will you make sure of it ? " 

" In what manner ? " 

" Oh ! it would be very easy." 

" Tell me." 

*' 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 in the ground ; leave the garden ; but look 
through the keyhole of the door and watch him." 

" Well, and what then ? " 

" What then ? We shall do as he does." 

" Oh ! " said Rosa with a sigh, " you are very fond of 
your bulbs." 

" To tell the truth," said the prisoner, sighing like- 
wise, " since your father crushed that unfortunate bulb 
I feel as if part of my own self had been paralyzed." 

" Now just hear me," said Rosa ; " will you try some- 
thing else ? " 

" What ? " 

" Will you accept the proposition of my father ? " 

" Which proposition ? " 

" Did not he offer to you tulip-bulbs by hundreds ? " 

" Indeed he did." 

" Accept two or three, and, along with them, you may 
grow the third sucker." 

" Yes, that would do very well," said Cornelius, knit- 
ting his brow, " if your father were alone ; but there is 
that Master Jacob, who watches all our ways." 

" Well, that is true ; but only think : you are depriv- 
ing yourself, as I can easily see, of a vety great pleasure." 


She pronounced these words with a smile, which was 
not altogether without a tinge of irony. 

Cornelius reflected for a moment ; he evidently was 
struggling against some vehement desire. 

" No ! " he cried at last, with the stoicism of a Roman 
of old " no, it would be a weakness, it would be a folly, 
it would be a meanness ! If I thus gave 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 instruc- 
tions. 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." 

" Be easy, Mynheer Cornelius," said Rosa, with a 
sweet mixture of melancholy and gravity "be easy; 
your wishes are commands to me." 

" 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." 

Rosa felt her heart sink within her, and her eyes were 
filling with tears. 

" Alas ! " she said. 


" What is it ? " asked Cornelius. 

" I see one thing/* 

" What do you see ? " 

" I see/* she said, 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." 

Saying this, she fled. 

Cornelius, after this, passed one of the worst nights 
he ever had had in his life. 

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. 

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. 



BUT poor Rosa, in her secluded chamber, could not have 
known of whom or of what Cornelius was dreaming. 

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. 

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 

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 appear- 
ance at the grated window no more. 

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 read- 
ing 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. 

Rosa, therefore, applied herself most diligently to 


* , 

reading poor Cornelius De Witte's Bible, on the second 
fly-leaf of which the last will of Cornelius van Baerle 
was written. 

" Alas ! " she muttered, when perusing again this docu- 
ment, which she never finished without a tear, the pearl 
of love, rolling from her limpid eyes on her blanched 
cheeks ; " alas ! at that time I thought for one moment 
he loved me." 

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. 

But Rosa was not aware of it. 

Having finished reading, she took her pen, and began 
with as laudable diligence the by far more difficult task 
of writing. 

As, however, Rosa was already able to write a legible 
hand when Cornelius so incautiously 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. 

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 

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, 
arid 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. 


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. 

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, came now back 
to his mind more vividly than ever ; and he asked him- 
self how he could have told his gentle comforter to 
sacrifice him to his tulip that is to say, to give up, if 
needs be, seeing him whereas to him the sight of Rosa 
had become a condition of life. 

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. 

All was then silent again. Cornelius put his hand 
on his heart, to repress, as it were, its violent palpitation, 
and listened. 

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, 

" Here comes Rosa." 

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 Lcevestein, 
that it was ten. 


This was the hour at which Rosa generally used to 
leave Cornelius. The hour had struck, but Rosa had 
not come. 

Thus, then, his foreboding had not deceived him : 
Rosa, being vexed, shut herself up in her room and left 
him to himself. 

" 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." 

Yet notwithstanding all this, Cornelius listened, 
waited, and hoped until midnight ; then he threw 
himself, in his clothes, on his bed. 

It was a long and sad night for him ; and the day 
brought no hope to the prisoner. 

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. 

Thus Cornelius did not even look at Gryphus. 

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. 

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. 


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, 

" All's well." 

At the third visit of the day, Cornelius changed his 
former inquiry. 

" I hope nobody is ill at Lcevestein ? " 

" Nobody/' replied, even more laconically, the jailer, 
shutting the door before the nose of the prisoner. 

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. 

Cornelius now was alone once more ; it was seven 
o'clock in the evening, and the anxiety of yesterday 
returned with increased intensity. 

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. 

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. 

In his wrath he would have strangled Gryphus, but 
would not this have separated him for ever from Rosa ? 

The evening closing in, his despair changed into 
melancholy, which was the more gloomy as, involun- 
tarily, 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 pre- 
cise time when tulips ought to be planted. He had 
said to Rosa, 

" I shall tell you the day when you are to put the bulb 
in the ground." 

He had intended to fix, at the vainly hoped-for inter- 
view, the following day as the time for that momentous 
operation. The weather was propitious ; the air, 
although 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 ! 

These two vexations, combined, might well make him 
leave off eating and drinking. 

This was the case on the fourth day. 

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. 

In the evening Gryphus took away the breakfast 
and dinner of Cornelius, who had scarcely touched them. 

On the following day he did not touch them at all, 
and Gryphus carried the dishes away just as he had 
brought them. 

Cornelius had remained in bed the whole day. 


11 Well," said Gryphus, coming down from the last 
visit, " I think we shall soon get rid of our scholar." 

Rosa was startled. 

" Nonsense," said Jacob ; " what do you mean ? " 

" 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." 

Rosa grew as pale as death. 

'* Ah ! " she said to herself, " he is uneasy about his 

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 

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. 

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, 

" Be easy, your tulip is going on well." 

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 pre- 
vented 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. 

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, 

" It was not my anxiety about the tulip that has made 
me ill, but grief at not seeing you." 

After Gryphus had made his last visit of the day, 
and darkness had set in, he slipped the paper under 
tne door, and listened with the most intense attention ; 
but he neither heard Rosa's footsteps nor the rustling 
of her gown. 

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, 

" To-morrow." 

Now to-morrow was the eighth day. For eight days 
Cornelius and Rosa had not seen each other. 



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 hey-day 
of their friendship. 

Cornelius being, as may easily be imagined, not far 
off from the door, perceived Rosa, who at last was wait- 
ing again for him with her lamp in her hand. 

Seeing him so sad and pale she was startled, and 

:< You are ill, Mynheer Cornelius ? " 

" Yes, I am," he answered, as indeed he was suffering 
in mind and in body. 

" I saw that you did not eat/" said Rosa ; " my father 
told me that you remained in bed all day. I then wrote 
to you to calm your uneasiness concerning the fate of 
the most precious object of your anxiety." 

" And I," said Cornelius, " I have answered. Seeing 
you return, my dear Rosa, I thought you had received 
my letter/' 

" It is true I have received it." 

" 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." 

" 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." 

" Restore me to health ? " cried Cornelius. " But have 
you any good news to communicate to me ? " 

Saying this, the poor prisoner looked at Rosa, his 
eyes sparkling with hope. 

Whether she did not, or would not, understand this 
look, Rosa answered gravely, 

" I have only to speak to you about your tulip, 
which, as I well know, is the object uppermost in your 

Rosa pronounced these 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. 

" 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 ? " 

Rosa smiled with a melancholy air. 

" Ah ! " she said, " your tulip has been in such 

Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and allowed himself 
to be caught in the trap, if ever the remark was meant 
as such. 

" Danger ! " he cried, quite alarmed ; " what danger ? " 

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 

" Yes," she said, " you have guessed the truth : that 
suitor and amorous swain, Jacob, did not come on my 

" And what did he come f or ? " Cornelius anxiously 

" He came for the sake of the tulip." 

" 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. 

Rosa saw this alarm, and Cornelius guessed, from the 
expression of her face, in what direction her thoughts 
were running. 

" 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." 

Rosa, without replying to t)iis excuse of the prisoner, 

" 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 " 

Cornelius interrupted her. 

" 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 ? " 

"On the following day," Rosa continued, " remem- 


bering 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 " 

" Yes, yes, odious. Tell me," he said, " do you hate 
that man ? " 

" I do hate him," said Rosa, " as he is the cause 
of all the unhappiness I have suffered these eight 

" You, too, have been unhappy, Rosa ? I thank you 
a thousand times for this kind confession." 

" 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." 

" And then ? " Cornelius asked, 

" And then the same shadow glided between the gate 
and the wall, and once more disappeared behind the 

" You feigned not to see him, didn't you ? " Cornelius 
asked, remembering all tie details of the advice which 
he had given to Rosa. 

" Yes, and I stooped over the border, in which I dug 
with a spade, as if I was going to put the bulb in." 

" And he what did he do during all this time ? " 

" I saw his eyes glisten through the branches of the 
tree, like those of a tiger/'" 

" There you see, there you see ! " cried Cornelius. 

" Then, after having finished my make-believe work, 
I retired." 

" 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 ? " 


" 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 roundabout. 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 hi 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." 

" Oh ! the wretch," muttered Cornelius, wiping the 
cold sweat from his brow. " Oh ! the wretch. I 
guessed his intentions. But the sucker, Rosa ; what 
have you done with it ? It is already rather late to 
plant it." 

" The sucker ? It has been in the ground for these 
six days." 

" Where ? and how ? " cried Cornelius. " Good 
Heaven ! what imprudence. Where 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 ? " 


" There is no danger of its being stolen/' said Rosa, 
" unless Jacob will force the door of my chamber." 

" 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 ? " 

" You may make yourself comfortable on that score," 
said Rosa, smiling ; " your sucker is not growing in 

" I breathe again." 

" 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 sweep- 
ings 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." 

" And now, what is the aspect, Rosa ? " 

" 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 in 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." 

" That's it, that's it," said 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/' 

" 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." 

" 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. 

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, 

" Do you mean to say that the bulb has now been in 
the ground for six days ? " 

" Yes, six days, Mynheer Cornelius," she answered. 

" And it does not yet show leaf ? " 

" No ; but I think it will to-morrow." 

" 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." 

" To-morrow ? " said Rosa, looking at Cornelius 
askance ; " ! don't know whether I shall be able to- 

" Good heavens ! " said Cornelius, " why can't you 
come to-morrow ? " 

" Mynheer Cornelius, I have lots of things to do." 

" And 1 have only one," muttered Cornelius. 

" Yes," said Rosa" to love your tulip." 

" To love you, Rosa." 

Rosa shook her head, after which followed a pause. 

" 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 
wallflowers, will flutter with just as much love about 


the honeysuckles, the rose, the jessamine, and the 

" What does all this mean ? " asked Rosa. 

" 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 ? " 

" 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 ? " 

" Do you call it faithful to desert me, and to leave me 
here to die ? " 

" 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 ? " 

" You are bitter, Rosa ; you reproach me with the 
only unalloyed pleasure which I have had in this 

" I reproach you with nothing, Mynheer Cornelius, 
except, perhaps, with the intense grief which I felt 
when people came to tell me at the Buitenhof that you 
were about to be put to death." 

" You are displeased, Rosa, my sweet girl, with my 
loving flowers." 

" I am not displeased with your loving them, Mynheer 
Cornelius, only it make . me sad to think that you love 
them better than you do me." 

"O 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, ex- 
tinguish 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 

" 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. 

" Above and before everything in this world, Rosa." 

" May I believe you ? " 

" As you believe in your own existence." 

" Well, then, be it so ; but loving me does not bind 
you to much." 

" Unfortunately it does not bind me more than I am 
bound, but it binds you, Rosa, you." 

" To what ? " 

" First of all, not to marry." 

She smiled. 

t "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." 

" 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. 

"The dark beauty, with a slender waist, small feet, 
and a noble head: in short, I am speaking of your 

Cornelius smiled. 

"That is an imaginary lady love, at all events; 
whereas, without counting that amorous Master 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 Loevestein ? " 

" Indeed there are, and lots of them." 

" Who write letters ? " 

" They do write." 

" And now, as you know how to read " 

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. 

" As to that/' said Rosa, " I think that in reading the 
notes addressed to me, and passing the different swains 
in review who sent them to me, I am only following 
your instructions." 

" How so ? My instructions ? " 

" 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 Witte ? 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 lookout 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 

" But, Rosa, the will was made in the expectation of 
death, and, thanks to Heaven, I am still alive." 

" Well, then, I shall not be after the handsome young 
man, and I shall come and see you." 

" That's it, Rosa ; come, come ! " 

"Under one condition." 

" Granted beforehand ! " 

"That the black tulip shall not be mentioned for the 
next three days." 


" It shall never be mentioned any more, if you wish 
it, Rosa." 

" No, no," the damsel said, laughing ; " I will not ask 
for impossibilities." 

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. 

Rosa uttered a little scream, which, however, was full 
of love, and disappeared. 



THE night was a happy one, and the whole of the next 
day happier still. 

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 

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. 

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. 

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, 

" Halloa i " exclaimed the jailer. 

" How are you this morning ? " asked Cornelius. 


Gryphus looked at him with a scowl. 

" And how is the dog, and Master Jacob, and our 
pretty Rosa ? " 

Gryphus ground his teeth, saying, 

" Here is your breakfast." 

" Thank you, friend Cerberus," said the prisoner ; 
" you are just in time I am very hungry." 

" Oh, you are hungry, are you ? " said Gryphus. 

" And why not ? " asked Van Baerle. 

"The conspiracy seemed to thrive," remarked Gry- 

" What conspiracy ? " 

"Very well, I know what I know, Master Scholar. 
Just be quiet ; we shall be on our guard." 

"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." 

"We'll see that at noon." 

Saying this, Gryphus went out. 

" At noon ! " repeated Cornelius ; " what does that 
mean ? Well, let us wait until the clock strikes twelve, 
and we shall see." 

It was very easy for Cornelius to wait for twelve at 
midday, as he was already waiting for nine at night. 

It struck twelve, and there were heard on the stair- 
case, not only the steps of Gryphus, but also those of 
three or four soldiers who were coming up with him. 

The door opened, Gryphus entered, led his men in, 
and shut the door after them. 

" There, now search ! " 

They searched not only the pockets of Cornelius, but 
even his person ; yet they found nothing. 

Then they searched the sheets, the mattress* and the 


straw mattress of his bed; and again they found 

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. 

And certainly never did prisoner look with greater 
complacency at a search made in his cell than Cornelius. 

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 

At six Gryphus came 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. 

Cornelius burst out laughing; to which Gryphus 
answered through the grating, 

" Let him laugh that wins." 

The winner that day was Cornelius Rosa carne at 

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 dodging her steps more than 
ever. And, lastly, the light would have shown her 

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. 

They spoke of those things which give wings to the 
hours ; they spoke of everything except the black tulip. 


At last, when the clock struck ten, they parted as 

Cornelius was happy, as thoroughly happy as a tulip- 
fancier would be to whom one has not spoken about 
his tulip. 

He found Rosa pretty, good, graceful, and charming. 

But why did Rosa object to the tulip being spoken 

This was indeed a great defect in Rosa. 

Cornelius confessed to himself, sighing, that woman 
was not perfect. 

Part of the night he thought of this imperfection; 
that is to say, as long as he was awake he thought of 

After having fallen asleep he dreamed of her. 
. 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. 

Cornelius then awoke, trembling with joy and mut- 

" Rosa, Rosa, I love you." 

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 

Ah ! if Rosa had only conversed about the tulip, Cor- 
nelius 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. 

There was one consolation : of the seventy-two hours, 
during which Rosa would not allow the tulip to be men- 



tioned, thirty-six had passed already; and the remain- 
ing thirty-six would pass quickly enough eighteen with 
waiting for the evening's interview, and eighteen with 
rejoicing in its remembrance. 

Rosa came at the same hour, and Cornelius submitted 
most heroically to the pangs which the compulsory 
silence concerning the tulip gave him. 

His fair visitor, however, was well aware that to 
command on the one hand 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. 

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. 

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. 

" Well," she said, " she is up." 

" 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. 

" She ? Well, my daughter, the tulip," said Rosa. 

"What!" cried Cornelius, "you give me permission, 
then ? " 

"I do," said Rosa, with the tone of an affectionate 
mother who grants a pleasure to her child. 

" Ah, Rosa ! " said Cornelius, putting his lips to the 
grating, with the hope of touching a cheek, a hand, a 
forehead anything, in short. 


He touched something much better two warm and 
half-open lips. 

Rosa uttered a slight scream. 

Cornelius understood that he must make haste to 
continue the conversation. He guessed that this un- 
expected kiss had frightened Rosa. 

" Is it growing up straight ? " he asked 

" Straight as a rocket," said Rosa. 

"How high?" 

' 'At least two inches." 

"O Rosa, take good care of it, and we shall soon see 
it grow quickly." 

" Can I take more care of it ? " said she. " Indeed I 
think of nothing else but the tulip." 

"Of nothing else, Rosa? Why, now, I shall grow 
jealous in my turn." 

" 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 my 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." 

" You are right, Rosa; it is your dowry, you know." 

" Yes, and with it I may marry a young man of twenty- 
six or twenty-eight years, whom I shall be in love with." 

" Don't talk in that way, you naughty girl." 

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. 

From that hour every day marked some progress in 
the growth of the tulip and in the affection of the two 
young people, 


At one time it was tha the leaves had expanded, and 
at another that the flower itself had formed. 

Great was the joy of Cornelius at this news, and his 
questions succeeded each other with a rapidity which 
gave proof of their importance. 

' ' Formed ! ' ' exclaimed Cornelius ; " is it really formed ? ' ' 

" It is," repeated Rosa. 

Cornelius trembled with joy, so much so that he was 
obliged to hold by the grating. 

" Good heavens ! " he exclaimed. 

Then turning again to Rosa, he continued his ques- 

" Is the oval regular ; the cylinder full ? and are the 
points very green ? " 

" 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." 

Two days after, Rosa announced that they were 

" Open, Rosa ! " cried Cornelius. " Is the involu- 
crum open? But then one may see, and already distin- 
guish " 

Here the prisoner paused, anxiously taking breath. 

" Yes," answered Rosa, " one may already distinguish 
a thread of different colour, as thin as a hair." 

" And its colour ? " asked Cornelius, trembling. 

" Oh," answered Rosa, " it is very dark." 


"Darker than that." 

" Darker, my good Rosa, darker ? Thank you. Dark 
like " 

" Dark like the ink with which I wrote to you." 

Cornelius uttered a cry of mad joy. 


Then suddenly stopping and clasping his hands, he 

"Oh, there is not an angel in heaven that may be 
compared to you, Rosa ! " 

" Indeed ! " said Rosa, smiling at his enthusiasm. 

" 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 ! " 

"After the tulip, though." 

" 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 ? " 

"To-morrow or the day after." 

"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." 

Rosa drew near, not by accident, but intentionally, 
and Cornelius kissed her tenderly. 

" Faith, I shall cull it, if you wish it." 

" 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 ? " 

Rosa smiled. 

"Oh yes," she said. 

" Enough ? " asked Cornelius. 

" I have three hundred guilders." 

"Oh! if you have three hundred guilders, you must 


not send a messenger, Rosa, but you must go to Haarlem 

" But what, in the meanwhile, is to become of the 
flower ? " 

"Oh, the flower; you must take it with you. You 
understand that you must not separate from it for an 

" But whilst I am not separating from it I am sepa- 
rating from you, Mynheer Cornelius." 

" Ah ! that's true, my sweet Rosa. Oh, good 
heavens, 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 Lcevestein to see the tulip." 

Then suddenly checking himself, he said with a 
faltering voice, 

" Rosa, Rosa, if after all it should not flower black ! " 

" Oh, surely, surely you will know to-morrow, or the 
day after." 

"And to wait until evening to know it, Rosa! I 
shall die with impatience. Could we not agree about a 
signal ? " 

" I shall do better than that." 

" What will you do ? " 

" 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." 

" Yes, Rosa, let it be so. One word of yours, an- 
nouncing this news to me, will be a Joublu 


" There, ten o'clock strikes," said Rosa ; " I must now 
leave you." 

" Yes, yes," said Cornelius ; " go, Rosa, go." 

Rosa withdrew, almost melancholy, for Cornelius had 
all but sent her away. 

It is true that he did so in order that she might watch 
over his black tulip. 


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 

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. 

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 ? 

How Cornelius would have spurned the offer of his 
liberty in exchange for his tulip ! 

Day came, without any news ; the tulip was not yet 
in flower. 

The day passed as the night. Night came, and with 
it Rosa, joyous and cheerful as a bird. 

"Well? "asked Cornelius. 

"Well, all is going on prosperously. This night, 
without any doubt, our tulip will be in flower/' 


" And will it flower black ? " 

"Black as jet." 

" Without a speck of any other colour ? " 

"Without one speck." 

" 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." 

" Well ? " 

" 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." 

"If it is no more than that, I have a messenger quite 

" Is he safe ? " 

" One for whom I will answer he is one of my lovers." 

" I hope not Jacob." 

" No ; be quiet. It is the ferryman of Lcevestein, a 
smart young man of twenty-five." 

" By Jove ! " 

" Be quiet," said Rosa, smiling. " He is still under 
age, as you have yourself fixed it at from twenty-six to 

" In fine, do you think you may rely on this young 
man ? " 

"As on myself; he would throw himself into the 
Waal or the Meuse if I bade him." 

" 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 it, 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." 


"But if he tarries?" 

" 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 entrust 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." 


" Did you not tell me yourself what you apprehend 
from your lover Jacob ? People will steal one guilder ; 
why not a hundred thousand ? " 

" I shall watch ; be quiet." 

" But if it opened whilst you are here ? " 

" The whimsical little thing would indeed be quite 
capable of playing such a trick," said Rosa. 

" And if on your return you find it open ? " 

" Well ? " 

"O Rosa, whenever it opens, remember that not a 
moment must be lost in apprising the President." 

" And in apprising you. Yes, I understand." 

Rosa sighed, yet without any bitter feeling, but rather 
like a woman who begins to understand a foible and to 
accustom herself to it. 


" 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." 

" Rosa, Rosa, I don't know to what wonder under the 
sun I shall compare you." 

" 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." 

" Oh, say good-night, my friend." 

"Good-night, my friend," said Rosa, a little con- 

" Say, my very dear friend." 

" Oh, my friend." 

" Very dear friend, I entreat you, say, very dear, Rosa, 
very dear." 

" Very dear, yes, very dear," said Rosa, with a beating 
heart, beyond herself with happiness. 

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. 

Then casting a glance from time to time towards the 

" 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." 

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 Lcevestein. 

Cornelius felt a thrill run through his frame. 

" Ah ! " he said, " here is Heaven sending a soul to 
my flower." 

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 o a gown, and 
a well-known voice, which said to him, 

" Cornelius, my friend, my very dear friend, and very 
happy friend, come, come quickly." 

Cornelius darted with one spring from the window to the 
door; his lips met those of Rosa, who told him with a kiss, 

" It is open it is black ; here it is." 

" How, here it is ! " exclaimed Cornelius. 

"Yes, yes; we ought, indeed, to run some little risk 
to give a great joy. Here it is ; take it." 

And with one hand she raised to the level of the 
grating a dark lantern, which she had lit in the mean- 
while, whilst with the other she held to the same height 
the miraculous tulip. 

Cornelius uttered a cry, and was nearly fainting. 

"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." 

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. 

" Rosa," said Cornelius, almost gasping " Rosa, there 
is not one moment to lose in writing the letter." 


" It is written, my dearest Cornelius," said Rosa. 

"Is it, indeed?" 

" 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." 

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 : 

" 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 
Loevestein. I am the daughter of the jailer, Gryphus 
almost as much 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 

" It is my wish that it should be called Rosa Bar- 

" It has opened ; it is perfectly black. Come, Mynheer 
President, come. 

" I have the honour to be, your humble servant, 


" That's it, dear Rosa, that's it. Your letter is admir- 
able ! I could not have written it with such beautiful 
simplicity. You will give to the committee all the in- 
formation that will be asked 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, for the 
messenger, the messenger." 


" What's the name of the President ? " 

" Give me the letter; I will direct it. Oh, he is very 
well known. It is Mynheer van Herysen, the burgo- 
master of Haarlem. Give it me, Rosa, give it me." 

And with a trembling hand Cornelius wrote the 
address : 

"To Mynheer Peter van Herysen, Burgomaster, and 
President of the Horticultural Society of Haarlem." 

"And now, Rosa, go, go," said Cornelius; "and let 
us implore the protection of God, who has so kindly 
watched over us until now." 



AND in fact the poor young people were in great need 
of protection. 

They had never been so near the destruction of their 
hopes as at this moment, when they thought themselves 
certain of their fulfilment. 

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 Buitenhof to Lcevestein, the object of his love and 
the object of his hatred the black tulip and Cornelius 
van Baerle. 

What no one but a tulip-fancier, and an envious tulip- 
fancier, could have discovered the existence of the 
suckers and the endeavours of the prisoner jealousy 
had enabled Boxtel, if not to discover, at least to guess. 

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 Genievre 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. 

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 

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 sus- 
picions which he might otherwise have excited. 

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. 

The reader will remember that the first cause for un- 
easiness was given to the prisoner by the rage of Jacob 
when Gryphus crushed the first sucker. In that moment 
Boxtel's exasperation was the more fierce, as, though 
suspecting that Cornelius possessed a second sucker, he 
by no means felt sure of it. 

From that moment he began to dodge the steps of 
Rosa, not only following her to the garden, but also to 
the lobbies. 

Only as this time he followed her in the night, and 
barefooted, he was neither seen nor heard, except once, 
when Rosa thought she saw something like a shadow on 
the staircase. 

Her discovery, however, was made too late, as Boxtel 
had heard from the mouth of the prisoner himself that 
a second sucker existed. 

Taken in by the stratagem of Rosa, who had feigned 
to put it in the ground, and entertaining no doubt but 
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. 

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. 

And at last he hired, just opposite Rosa's window, a 
little attic, distant enough not to allow him to be recog- 
nized with the naked eye, but sufficiently near to enable 
him, with the help of his telescope, to watch everything 
that was going on at Lcevestein in Rosa's room, just as 
at Dort he had watched the dry-room of Cornelius. 

He had not been installed more than three days in his 
attic before all his doubts were removed. 

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. 

Rosa watched the flower-pot with an interest which 
betrayed to Boxtel the real value of the object enclosed 
in it. 

This object could not be anything else but the second 
sucker that is to say, the quintessence of all the hopes 
of the prisoner. 

When the nights threatened to be too cold, Rosa took 
in the flower-pot. 

Well, it was then quite evident she was following the 
instructions of Cornelius, who was afraid of the bulb 
being killed by frost. 

When the sun became too hot, Rosa likewise took in 


the pot from eleven in the morning until two in the 

Another proof : Cornelius was afraid lest the soil should 
become too dry. 

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. 

Cornelius possessed two suckers, and the second was 
entrusted to the love and care of Rosa. 

For it may well be imagined that the tender secret of 
the two lovers had not escaped the prying curiosity of 

The question, therefore, was how to wrest the second 
sucker from the care of Rosa. 

Certainly this was no easy task. 

Rosa watched over her tulip as a mother over her 
child or a dove over her eggs. 

Rosa never left her room during the day, and, more 
than that, strange to say she never left it in the 

For seven days Boxtel in vain watched Rosa; she 
was always at her post. 

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. 

Would the coolness between Rosa and Cornelius last 
for ever ? 

This would have made the theft much more difficult 
than Mynheer Isaac had at first expected. 

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 Barlceensis, would go down to posterity 
under the name of Tulipa nigra Boxtellensis or Boxtellea. 

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 

The question was, to steal the tulip. But in order 
that Boxtel might steal the tulip, it was necessary that 
Rosa should leave her room. 

Great, therefore, was his joy when he saw the usual 
evening meetings of the lovers resumed. 

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. 

Boxtel at first entertained an idea of stealing the 
key, but it soon occurred to him that not only would it 
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. 

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. 


Two of the keys entered the lock, and one of them 
turned round once, but not the second time. 

There was therefore only a little to be done to this 

Boxtel covered it with a slight coat of wax, and when 
he thus renewed the experiment, the obstacle which pre- 
vented the key from being turned a second time left its 
impression on the wax. 

It cost Boxtel two days more to bring his key to per- 
fection, with the aid of a small file. 

Rosa's door thus opened without noise and without 
difficulty, and Boxtel found himself in her room alone 
with the tulip. 

The first guilty act of Boxtel had been to climb over 
a wall in order to dig up the tulip ; the second, to intro- 
duce 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. 

Thus envy urged Boxtel on with rapid steps in the 
career of crime. 

Boxtel, as we have said, was alone with the tulip. 

A common thief would have taken the 'pot under his 
arm and carried it off. 

But Boxtel was not a common thief, and he reflected. 

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. 

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 com- 
mittee before any one else could put in a reclamation. 

Should any one then reclaim it, Boxtel would, in his 
turn, charge him or her with theft. 

This was a deep-laid scheme, and quite worthy of its 

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. 

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. 

Seeing Rosa enter her room ten minutes after she had 
left it, Boxtel guessed that the tulip had opened, or was 
about to open. 

During that night, therefore, the great blow was to be 
struck. Boxtel presented himself before Gryphus with a 
double supply of Genievre that is to say, with a bottle 
in each pocket. 

Gryphus being once fuddled, Boxtel was very nearly 
master of the house. 

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. 

He did not doubt but that this was the black tulip 
which was in flower. 

But what was she going to do with it ? Would she set 
out that instant to Haarlem with it ? 

It was not possible that a young girl should undertake 
such a journey alone during the night. 


Was she only going to show the tulip to Cornelius ? 
This was more likely. 

He followed Rosa, in his stocking feet, walking on 

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. 

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 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 



CORNELIUS remained standing on the spot where Rosa 
had left him. He was quite overpowered with the 
weight of his twofold happiness. 

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. 

Almost at the same instant he saw before him the pale 
and distracted face of Rosa. 

He started, and turned pale with fright. 

" Cornelius, Cornelius ! " she screamed, gasping for 

" Good Heaven ! what is it ? " asked the prisoner. 

" Cornelius, the tulip." 


" How shall I tell you ? " 

" Speak, speak, Rosa ! " 

" Some one has taken stolen it from us." 

" Stolen taken ? " said Cornelius. 

" Yes/' said Rosa, leaning against the door to support 
herself " yes, taken, stolen." 


And saying this, she felt her limbs failing her, and she 
fell on her knees. 

" But how ? Tell me, explain to me." 

" Oh, it is not my fault, my friend." 

Poor Rosa ! she no longer dared to call him " My 
beloved one." 

" You have then left it alone," said Cornelius ruefully. 

" One minute only, to instruct our messenger, who lives 
scarcely fifty yards off, on the banks of the Waal." 

" And during that time, notwithstanding all my in- 
junctions, you left the key behind unfortunate child ! " 

"No, no, no ! that is what I, cannot understand. The 
key was never out of my hands; I clenched it as if I 
were afraid it would take wings." 

" But how did it happen, then ? " 

" 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; every- 
thing 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." 

She was nearly choking with sobs, and was unable to 

Cornelius, immovable and full of consternation, heard 
almost without understanding, and only muttered, 

" Stolen, stolen, stolen ! I am lost ! " 

" O Cornelius, forgive me, forgive me ; it will kill me ! " 

Seeing Rosa's distress, Cornelius seized the iron bars of 
the grating, and furiously shaking them, called out, 

" 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 ! " 


" Alas ! what can I say about it ? " 

" 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 over- 
take him ! " 

"But how can we do all this, my friend, without 
letting my father know that 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 ? " 

" 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." 

" 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 ? " 

"Your father has them your wicked father, who has 
already crushed the first sucker of my tulip. Oh, the 
wretch, the wretch ; he is an accomplice of Jacob ! " 

" Don't speak so loud, for Heaven's sake." 

" O 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 ! " 

" Be merciful, be merciful, my friend." 

" 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. 

Rosa, in her fright, made vain attempts to check this 
furious outbreak. 


" 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 ! " 

The wretched prisoner began really to rave. 

"Well, then, yes," said Rosa, all in a tremble. 
" Yes, yes ; only be quiet. Yes, I will take his keys, I 
will open the door for you ; yes, only be quiet, my own 
dear Cornelius." 

She did not finish her speech, as a growl by her side 
interrupted her. 

" My father ! " cried Rosa. 

" Gryphus ! " roared Van Baerle ; "oh, you villain ! " 

Old Gryphus, in the midst of all the noise, had as- 
cended the staircase without being heard. 

He rudely seized his daughter by the wrist. 

" 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 ? " 

Rosa clasped her hands in despair. 

" 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 Buitenhof, 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." 

Rosa, beyond herself with terror and despair, kissed 
her hands to her friend; then, suddenly struck with 
a bright thought, she rushed towards the staircase, 

''All is not yet lost, Cornelius. Rely on me, my 

Her father followed her, growling. 

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, 

" Stolen ; it has been stolen from me ! " 

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. 

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. 

He proceeded but slowly, as a black tulip could not 
bear travelling post-haste. 

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 uo lightly pressed upon on 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. 

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 Horticul- 
tural 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 



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. 

She had seen the despair of the prisoner, and she knew 
that it was derived from a double source, and that it 
was incurable. 

On the one hand, separation became inevitable 
Gryphus having, at the same time, surprised the secret 
of their love and of their secret meetings. 

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. 

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. 

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 wanting the tulip was indeed 

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 sucker 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. 

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 Loevestein to Haarlem, owing 
to the many canals, rivers, and rivulets intersecting the 
country, is exceedingly circuitous. 

Not being able to procure a vehicle, Rosa was obliged 
to take a horse, with which the stable-keeper readily 
entrusted her, knowing her to be the daughter of the 
jailer of the fortress. 

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. 

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. 

The honest lad was not aware of the important char- 
acter 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. 

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. 

The jailer, who was of a very spiteful and cruel dis- 
position, chuckled within himself at the idea of having 
struck such terror into his daughter's heart. 

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. 

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. 

Thus the prisoner alone was where Gryphus thought 
him to be. 

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. 

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 

He first went to her room ; but loud as he knocked, 
Rosa answered not. 

The locksmith of the fortress was sent for. He opened 
the door; but Gryphus no more found Rosa than she 
had found the tulip. 

At that very moment she entered Rotterdam. 


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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

The damsel, in the 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. 

Rosa, first of all, caused herself to be led before 
Mynheer van Herysen, the President of the Horticul- 
tural Society of Haarlem. 

She found that worthy gentleman in a situation which, 
to do justice to our story, we must not pass over in our 

The President was drawing up a report to the Com- 
mittee of the Society. 


This report was written on large-sized paper, in the 
finest handwriting of the President. 

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. 

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. 

" Announce to the President," she said to the servant, 
" that I want to speak to him about the black tulip." 

These words seemed to be an " Open Sesame," for 
she soon found herself in the office of the President, Van 
Herysen, who gallantly rose from his chair to meet her. 

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. 

" Well, miss," he said, " you are coming, I am told, 
about the affair of the black tulip." 

To the President of the Horticultural Society the 
Tulipa nigra was a first-rate power, which, in its char- 
acter as queen of the tulips, might send ambassadors. 

" Yes, sir," answered Rosa ; " I come at least to 
speak of it." 

" Is it doing well, then ? " asked Van Herysen, with 
a smile of tender veneration. 

" Alas ! sir, I don't know," said Rosa. 

" How is that ? Could any misfortune have happened 
to it ? " 

" A very great one, sir ; yet not to it, but to me." 


" What ? " 

" It has been stolen from me." 

" Stolen ! the black tulip ! " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Do you know the thief ? " 

" I have my suspicions, but I must not yet accuse 
any one." 

" But the matter may very easily be ascertained." 

" How is that ? " 

"As it has been stolen from you, the thief cannot be 
far off." 

" Why not ? " 

" Because I have seen the black tulip only two hours 

" You have seen the black tulip ! " cried Rosa, rush- 
ing up to Mynheer van Herysen. 

" As I see you, miss." 

" But where ? " 

" Well, with your master, of course." 

" With my master ? " 

" Yes ; are you not in the service of Master Isaac 
Boxtel ? " 

" I ? " 

" Yes, you." 

" But for whom do you take me, sir ? " 

" And for whom do you take me ? " 

" I hope, sir, I take you for what you are that is to 
say, for the honourable Mynheer van Herysen, burgo- 
master of Haarlem, and President of the Horticultural 

" And what is it you told me just now ? " 

" I told you, sir, that my tulip has been stolen." 

" 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 

" 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." 

" You do not know who Mynheer Boxtel is ; and you 
also had a black tulip ? " 

" But is there any other besides mine ? " asked Rosa, 

" Yes that of Mynheer Boxtel." 

" How is it ? " 

" Black, of course." 

" Without speck ? " 

" Without a single speck or even point." 

" And you have this tulip; you have it deposited here ? " 
" No, but it will be, as it has to be exhibited before 
the Committee previous to the prize being awarded." 

" O sir ! " cried Rosa, " this Boxtel, this Isaac Boxtel, 
who calls himself the owner of the black tulip " 

" And who is its owner ? " 

" Is he not a very thin man ? " 

" Yes." 

" Bald ? " 

" Yes." 

" With sunken eyes ? " 

" I think he has." 

" Restless, stooping, and bow-legged." 

" In truth you draw Master Boxtel's portrait, feature 
by feature." 

" And the tulip, sir is it not in a pot of white and 
blue earthenware, with yellowish flowers in a basket on 
three sides ? " 


" Oh, as to that, I am not quite sure ; I looked more 
at the flower than at the pot." 

" O sir, that's my tulip, which has been stolen from 
me. I come here to reclaim it before you and from you." 

" Oh, oh ! " said Van Herysen, looking at Rosa. 
" What ! you are here to claim the tulip of Master 
Boxtel ? Well, I must say you are cool enough." 

" Honoured sir," said Rosa, 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." 

" Yours ? " 

" Yes, the one which I have myself planted and nursed/' 

" 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 order- 
ing the hundred thousand guilders to be paid to its 
grower. Good-bye, my child." 

" O sir, sir! " said Rosa imploringly. 

" Only, my child," continued Van Herysen, " as you 
are young and pretty, and as there may be still some 
good in you, I'll give you 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." 

And Mynheer van Herysen, taking up his fine pen, 
resumed his report, which had been interrupted by 
Rosa's visit. 



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. 

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. 

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 

" Good Heavens ! " she muttered to herself, " I have 
made a grievous blunder ; may be I have ruined Cor- 
nelius, 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 ! " 

She reflected for a moment. 

"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 recognize this Boxtel 
as Jacob, who knows what will come out of it ? Whilst 
we are contesting with each other, the tulip will die/' 

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 open- 
ing and shutting ; Rosa alone was unconscious of all 
this hubbub among the multitude. 

" We must return to the President," she muttered. 

" Well, then, let us return," said the boatman. 

They took a small street, which led them straight to 
the mansion of Mynheer van Herysen, who with his 
best pen, in his finest hand, continued to draw up his 

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. 

Rosa had not a little difficulty in penetrating a second 
time into the office of Mynheer van Herysen, who, how- 
ever, was again moved by the magic name of the black 

But when he recognized Rosa, whom in his own mind 
he had set down as mad, or even worse, he grew angry, 
and wanted to send her away. 

Rosa, however, clasped her hands, and said with that 
tone of honest truth which generally finds its way to 
the hearts of men, 


" 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 your- 
self the accomplice of a bad action." 

Van Herysen 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 the President of the 
Horticultural Society. 

" But my report ! " he cried " my report on the black 
tulip ! " 

" Mynheer van Herysen," 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 recognize the flower and its holder." 

" Well, I declare, here is a proposal," said Van 

" What do you mean ? " 

" I ask you what can be proved by your recognizing 
them ? " 

" 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 ? " 

Rosa's speech seemed to have brought a certain con- 
viction into the heart of Van Herysen, 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. 

" What is this ? " cried the burgomaster " what is 
this ? Is it possible ? have I heard right ? " 

And he rushed towards his anteroom, without any 
longer heeding Rosa, whom he left in his cabinet. 

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 accompany- 
ing, or rather following, a young man, simply clad in a 
coat of violet-coloured velvet, embroidered with silver, 
who, with a certain aristocratic slowness, ascended the 
shining white stone steps of the house. 

In his wake followed two officers, one of the navy, and 
the other of the cavalry. 

Van Herysen, having found his way through his 
frightened domestics, began to bow, almost to prostrate 
himself before his visito^ who had been the cause of 
all this stir. 

" Monseigneur ! " he called out, " Monseigneur ! What 
distinguished honour is your Highness bestowing for 
ever on my humble house by your visit ! " 

"Dear Mynheer van Herysen," said William of 
Orange, with a serenity which, with him, took the place 
of a smile, M I am a true Hollander j 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." 


" O Monseigneur, Monseigneur," said Van Herysen, 
" what glory to the Society if its endeavours are pleasing 
to your Highness ! " 

" Have you got the flower here ? " said the Prince, 
who, very likely, already regretted having made such a 
long speech. 

" I am sorry to say we have not." 

" And where is it ? " 

" With its owner." 

" Who is he ? " 

" An honest tulip-grower of Dort." 

" His name ? " 

" Boxtel." 

" His quarters ? " 

" 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." 

" Very well, send for him." 

" Yes, your Highness, but " 

" What is it ? " 

" Oh ! nothing of any consequence, Monseigneur." 

" Everything is of consequence, Mynheer van 

" Well then, Monseigneur, if it must be said, a little 
difficulty has presented itself." 

" What difficulty ? " 

" This tulip has already been claimed by usurpers. 
It's true that it is worth a hundred thousand guilders." 

" Indeed ! " 

" Yes, Monseigneur, by usurpers, by forgers." 

" This is e crime, Mynheer van Herysen." 


" So it is, your Highness." 

" And have you any proofs of their guilt ? " 

" No, Monseigneur, the guilty woman 

" The guilty woman, sir ? " 

" I ought to say, the woman who claims the tulip. 
Monseigneur, is here in the room close by/' 

" And what do you think of her ? " 

" I think, Monseigneur, that the bait of a hundred 
thousand guilders may have tempted her." 

" And so she claims the tulip ? " 

" Yes, Monseigneur." 

" And what proof does she offer ? " 

" I was just going to question her, when your High- 
ness came in." 

" Question her, Mynheer van Herysen, question he** 
I am the first magistrate of the country ; I will hear the 
case, and administer justice." 

" I have found my King Solomon," said Van Herysen, 
bowing, and showing the way to the Prince. 

His Highness was just going to walk ahead, but, 
suddenly recollecting himself, he said, 

" Go before me, and call me plain Mynheer." 

The two then entered the cabinet. 

Rosa was still standing at the same place, leaning on 
the window, and looking through the panes into the 

" Ah ! a Frisian girl," said the Prince, as he observed 
Rosa's gold brocade head-dress and red petticoat. 

At the noise of their footsteps she turned round, but 
scarcely saw the Prince, who seated himself in the 
darkest corner of the apartment. 

All her attention, as may easily be imagined, was 
fixed on that important person who was called Van 


Herysetj so that she had no time to notice the humble 
stranger, who was following the master of the house, 
and who, for aught that she knew, might be somebody 
or nobody. 

The humble stranger took a book down from the shelf, 
and made Van Herysen a sign to commence the examina- 
tion forthwith. 

Van Herysen, 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, 

" My child, you promise to tell me the truth, and the 
entire truth, concerning this tulip ? " 

" I promise." 

" Well, then, speak before this gentleman ; this gentle- 
man is one of the members of the Horticultural Society." 

" What am I to tell you, sir," said Rosa, " besides 
that which I have told you already ? " 

" Well, then, what is it ? " 

*' I repeat the request which I have addressed to you 

" Which ? " 

" That you will order Mynheer Boxtel to come here 
with his tulip. If I do not recognize it as mine I will 
frankly tell it ; but if I do recognize it I will reclaim 
it, even if I must go before his Highness, the Stadt- 
holder himself, with my proofs in my hands." 

'* You have, then, some proofs, my child ? " 

*' God, who knows my good right, will assist me to some." 

Van Herysen 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. 


An officer went off to fetch Boxtel, and Van Herysen, 
in the meanwhile, continued his examination. 

" And with what do you support your assertion that 
you are the real owner of the black tulip ? " 

" With the very simple fact of my having planted and 
grown it in my own chamber." 

" In your chamber ? Where was your chamber ? " 

" At Lcevestein." 

" You are from Lcevestein ? " 

" I am the daughter of the jailer of the fortress." 

The Prince made a little movement, as much as to 
say, " Well, that's it ; I remember now." 

And, all the while feigning to be engaged with his 
book, he watched Rosa even with more attention than he 
had done before. 

" And you are fond of flowers ? " continued Mynheer 
van Herysen. 

" Yes, sir." 

" Then you are an experienced florist, I dare say ? " 

Rosa hesitated a moment ; then with a tone which 
came from the depth of her heart, she said, 

" Gentlemen, I am speaking to men of honour ? " 

There was such an expression of truth in the tone of 
her voice that Van Herysen and the Prince answered 
simultaneously by an affirmative movement of their 

" 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 or write. No, the black 
tulip has not been found by myself." 

" But by whom else ? " 

" By a poor prisoner of Lcevestein." 

" By a prisoner of Lcevestein ? " repeated the Prince. 


The tone of this voice startled Rosa, who was sure 
she had heard it before. 

" By a prisoner of state, then," continued the Prince, 
" as there are none else there." 

Having said this, he began to read again, at least in 

" Yes," said Rosa, with a faltering voice; "yes, by a 
prisoner of state." 

Van Herysen trembled as he heard such a confession 
made in the presence of such a witness. 

" Continue," said William, dryly, to the President of 
the Horticultural Society. 

" Ah, sir," said Rosa, addressing the person whom 
she thought to be her real judge, " I am going to in- 
criminate myself very seriously." 

" Certainly," said Van Herysen, " the prisoners of 
state ought to be kept in close confinement at Loeve- 

"Alas! sir." 

" 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," 

" So it is, sir," Rosa murmured in dismay ; " yes, I 
am bound to confess, I saw him every day." 

" Unfortunate girl ! " exclaimed Van Herysen. 

The Prince observing the fright of Rosa, and the 
pallor of the President, raised his head, and said, in 
his clear and decided tone, 

" 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." 

Van Herysen, by means of an eloquent glance, offered, 


in the name of the tulip, his thanks to the new member 
of the Horticultural Society. 

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 sucker ; the 
grief of the prisoner ; the precautions taken to insure 
the success of the second sucker ; 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. 

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 Herysen. 

" But," said the Prince, " it cannot be long since you 
knew the prisoner." 

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. 

" Why, sir ? " she asked him. 

" Because it is not yet four months since the jailer 
Gryphus and his daughter were removed to Lcevestein." 

" That is true, sir." 

" 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 

" Sir." said Rosa, blushing. 

" Finish what you have to say, said William. 


" I confess I knew the prisoner at the Hague." 
" Happy prisoner ! " said William, smiling. 
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. 



BOXTEL'S return was scarcely announced, when he 
entered in person the drawing-room of Mynheer van 
Herysen, followed by two men, who carried in a box 
their precious burden, and deposited it on a table. 

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 him- 
self placed his chair. 

Rosa, trembling, pale, and terrified, expected to be 
invited in her turn to see the tulip. 

She now heard the voice of Boxtel. 

" It is he I " she exclaimed. 

The Prince made her a sign to go and look through 
the open door into the drawing-room. 

" It is my tulip," cried Rosa ; " I recognize it. Oh, 
my poor Cornelius ! " 

And saying this she burst into tears. 

The Prince rose from his seat, went to the door, 
where he stood for some time with the full light falling 
upon his figure. 

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. 


" Master Boxtel," said the Prince, " come in here, if 
you please." 

Boxtel eagerly approached, and finding himself face 
to face with William of Orange, started back. 

" His Highness ! " he called out. 

" His Highness ! " Rosa repeated in dismay. 

Hearing this exclamation on his left, Boxtel turned 
round, and perceived Rosa. 

At this sight the whole frame of the thief shook as 
if under the influence of a galvanic shock. 

" Ah ! " muttered the Prince to himself, "he is con- 

But Boxtel, making a violent effort to control his 
feelings, was already himself again. 

" Master Boxtel," said William, " you seem to have 
discovered the secret of growing the black tulip ? " 
. " Yes, your Highness," answered Boxtel, in a voice 
which still betrayed some confusion. 

It is true his agitation might have been attributable 
to the emotion which the man must have felt on suddenly 
recognizing the Prince. 

" But," continued the Stadtholder, " here is a young 
damsel who also pretends to have found it." 

Boxtel, with a disdainful smile, shrugged his shoulders. 

William watched all his movements with evident 
interest and curiosity. 

" Then you don't know this young girl ? " said the 

" No, your Highness ! " 

" And you, child, do you know Master Boxtel ? " 

" No ; I don't know Master Boxtel, but I know 
Master Jacob." 

" What do you mean ? " 


" I mean to say that at Loevestein the man who here 
calls himself Isaac Boxtel went by the name of Master 

" What do you say to that, Master Boxtel ? " 

" I say that this damsel lies, your Highness." 

" You deny, therefore, having ever been at Lceve- 
stein ? " 

Boxtel hesitated ; the fixed and searching glance of 
the proud eye of the Prince prevented him from lying. 

" I cannot deny having been at Loevestein, your 
Highness, but I deny having stolen the tulip." 

" You have stolen it, and that from my room," cried 
Rosa, with indignation. 

" I deny it." 

" 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 
but a stratagem to discover your intentions. Say, do 
you deny all this ? " 

Boxtel did not deem it fit to answer these several 
charges, but, turning to the Prince, continued, 

" 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 Loevestein, she 
formed the plan of ruining me, by appropriating to her- 
self the prize of a hundred thousand guilders, which, 
with the help of your Highness's justice, I hope to gain." 

" Yah ! " cried Rosa, beyond herself with anger. 

" Silence ! " said the Prince. 

Then, turning to Boxtel, he said, 

" And who is that prisoner to whom you allude as the 
lover of this young woman ? " 

Rosa nearly swooned, for Cornelius was designated as 
a dangerous prisoner, and recommended, by the Prince, 
to the especial surveillance of the jailer. 

Nothing could have been more agreeable to Boxtel 
than this question. 

" 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." 

" And his name ? " 

Rosa hid her face in her hands with a movement of 

" His name is Cornelius van Baerle," said Boxtel, 
" and he is godson of that villain, Cornelius de Witte." 

The Prince gave a start ; his generally quiet eye 
flashed, and a death-like paleness spread over his im- 
passible features. 

He went up to Rosa, and, with his finger, gave her a 
sign to remove her hands from her face. 

Rosa obeyed, as if under mesmeric influence, without 
having seen the sign. 

" It was, then, to follow this man that you came to me 
at Leyden to solicit for the transfer of your father ? " 

Rosa hung down her head, and, nearly choking, said, 


" Yes, your Highness." 

" Go on," said the Prince to Boxtel. 

" 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 
Loevestein 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 whence 
I had the good luck to recover it, at the very moment 
when she had the impudence to dispatch 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 but 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 

" 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. 

" 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." 

" Monseigneur ! Monseigneur ! " cried Rosa. " Cor- 
nelius is not guilty." 

William started. 

" Not guilty of having advised you ; that's what you 
want to say, is it not ? " 

" What I wish to say, your Highness, is that Corne- 
lius is as little guilty of the second crime imputed to 
him as he was of the first." 

" Of the first ? And do you know what was his first 
crime ? Do you know of what he was accused and con- 
victed ? Of having, as an accomplice of Cornelius de 
Witte, concealed the correspondence of the Grand Pen- 
sionary and the Marquis de Louvois." 

" 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 har- 
boured a secret without revealing it to me ? No, no, 
your Highness, I repeat it, and even at the risk of incur- 
ring 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 ! " 

" He is a De Witte ! " cried Boxtel. " His Highness 
knows only too much of him, having once granted him 
his life." 

" 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." 


Then, knitting his brow, he added, 

" As to the tulip, make yourself easy, Master Boxtel ; 
you shall have justice done to you." 

Boxtel bowed, with a heart full of joy, and received 
the congratulations of the President. 

" You, my child," William of Orange continued, " you 
were going to commit a crime. I shall not punish you ; 
but the real evildoer will 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." 

"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." 

" Prove it," Boxtel coolly remarked. 

" I shall prove it. With God's help, I shall." 

Then, turning towards Boxtel, she asked, 

" The tulip is yours ? " 

"It is." 

" How many suckers were there of it ? " 

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 

" Three." 

" What has become of these suckers ? " 

" Oh ! what has become of them ? Well, one has 
failed ; the second has produced the black tulip." 

" And the third ? " 

" The third ! " 

" The third where is it ? " 

" I have it at home," said Boxtel, quite confused. 


" At home ? Where ? At Lcevestein, or at Dort ? " 

" At Dort," said Boxtel. 

" You lie ! " cried Rosa. " Monseigneur," she con- 
tinued, whilst turning round to the Prince, " I will tell 
you the true story of those three suckers. 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 baulked in his hope, he very 
nearly fell out with my father, who had been the cause 
of his disappointment. The second sucker, 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." 

And Rosa, unfolding the paper, offered the bulb to 
the Prince, who took it from her hands and examined it. 

" 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. 

Her eyes suddenly lighted up ; she read, with breath- 
less anxiety, the mysterious paper over and over again ; 
and at last, uttering a cry, held it out to the Prince and 

" Read, Monseigneur, for Heaven's sake, read ! " 

William handed the third sucker to Van Herysen, 
took the paper and read. 

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 com- 
passion in his features was really frightful to see. 

It was that fly-leaf, taken from the Bible, which 
Cornelius de Witte had sent to Dort by Craeke, the 
servant of his brother John, to request Van Baerle toi 
burn the correspondence of the Grand Pensionary with 
the Marquis de Louvois. 

This request, as the reader may remember, was 
couched in the following terms : 

"MY DEAR GODSON, Burn the parcel which I have 
entrusted to you. Burn it, without looking at it and 
without opening it, so that its contents may 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 
Witte. Farewell, and love me. 


" zoth of August, 1672." 

This slip of paper offered the proofs both of Van 
Baerle's innocence and of his claim to the property of 
the tulip. 

Rosa and the Stadtholder exchanged one look only. 

That of Rosa was meant to express, " Here, you see 

That of the Stadtholder signified, " Be quiet, and 

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 of 
the past. 


Soon, however, raising his head with an effort, he 
said, in his usual voice, % 

" Go, Mr. Boxtel, justice shall be done, I promise you." 

Then, turning to the President, he added, 

" You, my dear Mynheer van Herysen, take charge 
of this young woman and of the tulip. Good-bye." 

All bowed, and the Prince left, among the deafening 
cheers of the crowd outside. 

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 ? 

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, 

" Thou knowest best for what end thou madest my 
good Cornelius teach me to read." 



WHILST the events we have described in our last chapters 
were taking place, the unfortunate Van Baerle, forgotten 
in his cell in the fortress of Lcevestein, 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. 

Gryphus, not having received any tidings of Rosa, 
nor of Jacob, persuaded himself that all that had hap- 
pened was the devil's work, and that Doctor Cornelius 
van Baerle had been sent on earth by Satan. 

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 

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. 

The pigeons were still there, but hope was not ; there 
was no future to look forward to. 

Alas ! Rosa, being watched, was no longer able to 


come. Could she not write ? and if so, could she convey 
her letters to him ? 

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 Genievre had heated his brain, 
would it not give to his arm, which had been only too 
well set by Cornelius, even double force ? 

The idea that Rosa might, perhaps, be ill-treated 
nearly drove Cornelius mad. 

He then felt his own powerlessness. He asked him- 
self whether God was just in inflicting so much tribula- 
tion 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 begets doubt. 

Van Baerle had proposed to write to Rosa, but where 
was she ? 

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. 

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 dispatch his letter. 

Then Cornelius revolved in his mind all those strata- 
gems resorted to by unfortunate prisoners. 

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 highroad 
of mediocrity which leads to everything. 

" How is it possible," said Cornelius to himself, " that 
I should escape from Lcevestein, 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 ? I am losing my 
patience since I have lost the joy and company of Rosa, 
and especially since I have lost my tulip. Undoubtedly, 
one 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." 

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, 

" Well, and once having strangled him, why should 
not I 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, heavens, Gryphus is her father. What- 
ever may be her affection for me, she will never approve 


of my having strangled her father, brutal and malicious 
as he has been. 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 ? " 

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. 

And at that very moment Gryphus entered. 

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. 

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. 

There is nothing more galling to angry people than 
.the coolness of those on whom they wish to vent their 

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. 

Gryphus, therefore, on seeing that Cornelius did not 
stir, tried to attract his attention by a loud, 

" Umph, umph." 

Cornelius was humming between his teeth the " Hymn 
of Flowers," a sad, but very charming song. 

"We are the daughters of the secret fire, 
Of the fire which circulates through the veins pi the earth j 
We are the daughters of Aurora, and of the morning dew ; 

We are the daughters of the air ; 

We are the daughters of the water ; 
But we are, above all, the daughters of heaven." 

This song, the placid melancholy of which was still 


heightened by its calm and sweet melody, exasperal 

He, struck his stick on the stone pavement of the 
and called out, 

" Halloa ! my warbling gentleman, don't you hear 

Cornelius turned round, merely saying, 

" Good-morning," and then began his song again. 

" 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." 

" Ah, you accursed sorcerer ! you are making game 
of me, I believe," roared Gryphus. 
Cornelius continued, 

" 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." 

Gryphus went up to the prisoner, and said, 

" But you don't see that I have taken means to 
get you under, and to force you to confess your crimes." 

" Are you mad, my dear Master Gryphus ? " asked 

And as he now for the first time observed the frenzied 
features, the flashing eyes, and foaming mouth of the 
old jailer, he said, 

" Bless the man, he is more than mad, it seems, he is 

Gryphus flourished his stick above his head, but Van 
Baerle moved not, and remained standing with his arms 


" It seems your intention to threaten me, Master 

" Yes, indeed, I threaten you," cried the jailer. 

" And with what ? " 

" First of all, look what I have in my hand." 

" I think that's a stick," said Cornelius calmly, " but 
I don't suppose you will threaten me with that." 

" Oh, you don't suppose oh ! why not ? " 

" Because any jailer who strikes a prisoner is liable 
to two penalties ; the first laid down in Article 9 of the 
regulations at Loevestein : 

' Any jailer, inspector, or turnkey who lays hand 
upon a prisoner of State will be dismissed.' ' 

" Yes, who lays hands," said Gryphus, mad with 
rage, " but there is not a word about a stick in the 

" And the second," continued Cornelius, " which is not 
written in the regulation, but which is to be found else- 

" Whosoever takes up the stick will be thrashed by the stick." 

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. 

Gryphus fairly bellowed with rage. 

" Hush, hush, my good man," said Cornelius, " don't 
do anything to lose your place." 

" Ah ! you sorcerer, I'll pinch you worse," roared 

" I wish you may." 

" Don't you see that my hand is empty ? " 

" Yes, I see it, and I am glad of it." 


" You know that it is not generally so when I come 
upstairs in the morning." 

" 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, Gryphus, the better 
it is to mine." 

" How so ? " 

" Oh, it's a very simple thing." 

" Well, tell it me," said Gryphus. 

" Very willingly. I know that in giving me bad 
bread you think you do me harm." 

" Certainly, I "don't give it you to please you, you 

" 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." 

Gryphus answered with a growl. 

" Oh ! you confess, then, that you are a sorcerer." 

" 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." 

"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 ? " 

" What's that ? " said Cornelius. 

" Consequently, I shall not bring you any bread at 
all, and we shall see how it will be after eight days." 

Cornelius grew pale. 

"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." 

" 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. 

" Well," Gryphus went on in his jeering way, " as 
you are a sorcerer, you will live notwithstanding." 

Cornelius put on a smiling face again, and said, 

" Have not you seen me make the pigeons come here 
from Dort ? " 

" Well ? " said Gryphus. 

" Well, a pigeon is a very dainty morsel, and a man 
who eats one every day would not starve, I think." 

" And how about the fire ? " said Gryphus. 

" 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." 

" 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." 

11 Well, but when I am tired of pigeons, I shall make 
the fish of the Waal and of the Meuse come up to me." 

Gryphus opened his large eyes, quite bewildered. 

" 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." 

Gryphus nearly fainted with anger and with fright, but 
he soon rallied, and said, putting his hand in his pocket,-^ 

" Well, as you force me to it," and with these words 
he drew forth a clasp-knife and opened it. 

" Halloa, a knife ! " said Cornelius, preparing to 
defend himself with his stick. 




THE two remained silent for some minutes Gryphus 
on the offensive, and Van Baerle on the defensive. 

Then, as the situation might be prolonged to an in- 
definite length, Cornelius, anxious to know something 
more of the causes which had so fiercely exasperated 
his jailer, spoke first, by putting the question, 

" Well, what do you want, after all ? " 

" I'll tell you what I want," answered Gryphus. " I 
want you to restore to me my daughter Rosa." 

" Your daughter ? " cried Van Baerle. 

" Yes, my daughter Rosa, whom you have taken from 
me by your devilish magic. Now, will you tell me 
where she is ? " 

And the attitude of Gryphus became more and more 

" Rosa is not at Lcevestein ? " cried Cornelius. 

" You know well she is not. Once more, will you 
restore her to me ? " 

" I see," said Cornelius : " this is a trap you are lay- 
ing for me." 

" Now, for the last time, will you tell me where my 
daughter is ? " 


" Guess it, you rogue, if you don't know it." 

" 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 ! " 

He advanced a step towards Cornelius, and said, 
showing him the weapon which he held in his hand, 

" 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." 

" But, you blockhead," said Cornelius, " will you 
really kill me ? " 

" I shall open your heart, to see in it the place where 
you hide my daughter." 

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 con- 
tinued, 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. 

The knife fell to the ground, and Cornelius put his 
foot on it. 

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, belabour- 
ing his jailer with the most heroic self-possession, and 
deliberately aiming his blows at him. 

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. 

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. 

In fact, appearances were sadly against him. 

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. 

A protocol of the violence practised 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 re- 

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. 

During this time the guards who had seized Cornelius 
busied themselves in charitably informing their prisoner 
of the usages and customs of Loevestein, which, how- 
ever, 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. 


Among other things, they told him that this regula- 
tion 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. 

Mathias was taken within twelve hours from his cell, 
then led to the jailer's lodge, where he was registered 
as leaving Lcevestein, 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. 

Hereupon he was invited to go down on his knees, 
and the guards of Loevestein, twelve in number, at a 
sign from a sergeant, very cleverly lodged a musket ball 
each in his body. 

In consequence of this proceeding Mathias inconti- 
nently did then and there die. 

Cornelius listened with the greatest attention to this 
delightful recital, and then said, 

" Ah ! ah ! within twelve hours, you say ? " 

" Yes ; the twelfth hour had not even struck, if I re- 
member right/' said the guard, who had told him the 

" Thank you," said Cornelius. 

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 ascend- 
ing the staircase. 

The guards fell back to allow an officer to pass, who 


entered the cell of Cornelius at the moment when the 
clerk of Loevestein was still making out his report. 

" Is this No. ii ? " he asked. 

' Yes, Captain/' answered a non-commissioned officer. 

" Then this is the cell of the prisoner Cornelius van 
Baerle ? " 

" Exactly, Captain." 

" Where is the prisoner ? " 

" Here I am sir," answered Cornelius, growing rather 
pale, notwithstanding all his courage. 

" You are Doctor Cornelius van Baerle ? " asked he, 
this time addressing the prisoner himself. 

" Yes, sir." 

" Then follow me." 

" Oh ! oh ! " said Cornelius, whose heart felt oppressed 
by the first dread of death. " What quick work they 
make here in the fortress of Lcevestein ! And the rascal 
talked to me of twelve hours ! " 

" Ah ! what did I tell you ? " whispered the com- 
municative guard into the ear of the culprit. 

" A He." 

" How so ? " 

" You promised me twelve hours." 

" Ah yes. But here comes to you an aid-de-camp of 
his Highness, even one of his most intimate companions, 
Van Decken. Zounds ! they did not grant such an 
honour to poor Mathias." 

" Come, come," said Cornelius, drawing a long 
breath " come, I'll show to these people that an 
honest burgher, godson of Cornelius de Witte, can, 
without flinching, receive as many musket-balls as that 

Saying this, he passed proudly before the clerk, who, 


being interrupted in his work, ventured to say to the 

" But, Captain van Decken, the protocol is not yet 

"It is not worth while finishing it," answered the 

" All right/' replied the clerk, philosophically putting 
up his paper and pen in a greasy and well-worn writing 

"It was written," thought poor Cornelius, "that I 
should not, in this world, give ray name either to a 
child, to a flower, or to a book, the three things by which 
a man's memory is perpetuated." 

But repressing his melancholy thoughts, he followed 
the officer with a resolute heart, and carrying his head 

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 officious com- 
plaisance would not have failed to tell him. 

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 ! 

Indeed, the poor tulip-fancier needed all his courage 
and resolution not to burst into tears at the thought of 
the latter, and of her foster-daughter the black tulip. 

Although he looked to the right and to the left, he saw 
neither Rosa nor Gryphus. 

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 gaily that Cornelius felt almost shocked. 

All at once Gryphus, limping, staggering, and sup- 
porting 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 concen- 
trated. He then began to pour forth such a torrent of 
disgusting imprecations against Cornelius that the latter, 
addressing the officer, said, 

" I do not think it very becoming, sir, that I should 
be thus insulted by this man, especially at a moment 
like this." 

"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." 

" But, sir, it was only in self-defence." 

" Never mind," said the Captain, shrugging his shoul- 
ders like a true philosopher, ''let him talk; what does 
it matter to you now ? " 

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. 

The unfortunate tulip-fancier then felt that he had no 
more resources and no more friends, and resigned himself 
to his fate. 

"God's will be done," he muttered, bowing his head; 
then turning towards the officer who seemed compla- 
cently to wait until he had finished his meditations, he 

" Please, sir, tell me now, where am I to go ?" 


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 the Buitenhof . 

"Enter," said the officer. 

" Ah ! " muttered Cornelius to himself, " it seems they 
are not going to treat me to the honours of the Espla- 

He uttered these words loud enough for the chatty 
guard, who was at his heels, to overhear him. 

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, 

" Condemned prisoners have sometimes been taken to 
their own town, to be made an example of, and they 
have then been executed before the door of their own 
house. It's all according to circumstances." 

Cornelius thanked him by signs, and then said to 

"Well, here is a fellow who never misses giving con- 
solation whenever an opportunity presents itself. In 
truth, my friend, I'm very much obliged to you. Good- 

The carriage drove away. 

" Ah, you villain, you brigand ! " roared Gryphus, 
clenching 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 ? " 

" If they take me to Dort," thought Cornelius, " I 
shall see, in passing my house, whether my poor borders 
>have been much spoiled." 



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. 

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. 

Cornelius regretted that he had no longer by his side 
that chatty soldier who would talk without being ques- 

That obliging person would, undoubtedly, have given 
him as pleasant details and exact explanations, concern- 
ing this third strange part of his adventures, as he had 
done concerning the two first. 

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. 

Three hours after he entered Haarlem. 

Cornelius vva not aware of what had passed at 


Haarlem, and we shall leave him in ignorance of it until 
the course of events enlighten him. 

But the reader has a right to know all about it, even 
before our hero, and therefore we shall not make him 

We have seen that Rosa and the tulip, like two orphan 
sisters, had been left by the Prince William of Orange 
at the house of the President van Herysen. 

Rosa did not hear again from the Stadtholder until the 
evening of that day on which she had seen him face to 

About evening an officer called at Van Herysen's 
house. He came from his Highness, with a request 
for Rosa to appear at the Town Hall. 

There, in the large Council Room, into which she was 
ushered, she found the Prince writing. 

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. 

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, 

" Come here, my child." 

Rosa advanced a few steps towards the table. 

" Sit down," he said, 

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. 

The Prince finished his letter. 

During this time the greyhound went up to Rosa, 
surveyed her, and began to caress her. 

"Ah! ah! ;? said William to his dog, "it's easy to 


see that she is a countrywoman of yours, and that you 
recognize her." 

Then turning towards Rosa, and fixing on her his 
scrutinizing and at the same time impenetrable glance, 
he said, 

" Now, my child." 

The Prince was scarcely twenty-three, and Rosa 
eighteen or twenty. He might therefore, perhaps, 
better have said, my sister. 

" My child," he said, with that strangely commanding 
accent which chilled all those who approached him, 
" we are alone ; let us speak together." 

Rosa began to tremble; and yet there was nothing 
but kindness in the expression of the Prince's face. 

" Monseigneur," she stammered. 

" You have a father at Lcevestein ? " 

" Yes, your Highness." 

" You do not love him ? " 

" I do not at least, not as a daughter ought to do, 

" It is not right not to love one's father, but it is right 
not to tell a falsehood." 

Rosa cast her eyes to the ground. 

" What is the reason of your not loving your father ? " 

"He is wicked." 

" In what way does he show his wickedness ? " 

" He ill-treats the prisoners." 

"All of them?" 


"But don't you bear him a grudge for ill-treating 
some one in particular ? " 

"My father ill-treats in particular Mynheer van 
Baerle, who " 


" Who is your lover ? " 

Rosa started back a step. 

" Whom I love, Monseigneur," she answered proudly. 

" Since when ? " asked the Prince. 

" Since the day when I first saw him." 

" And when was that ? " 

" The day after that on which the Grand Pensionary 
John and his brother Cornelius met with such an awful 

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. 

" But to what can it lead to love a man who is doomed 
to live and die in prison ? " 

" It will lead, if he lives and dies in prison, to my 
aiding him in life and in death." 

" And would you accept the lot of being the wife of a 
prisoner ? " 

" As the wife of Mynheer van Baerle, I should, under 
any circumstances, be the proudest and happiest woman 
in the world ; but " 

"But what?" 

" I dare not say, Monseigneur." 

" There is something like hope in your tone ; what do 
you hope ? " 

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. 

" Ah ! I understand you," he said. 

Rosa, with a smile, clasped her hands. 

" You hope in me ? " said the Prince. 

" Yes, Monseigneur." 



The Prince sealed the letter which he had just written, 
and summoned one of his officers, to whom he said, 

"Captain van Decken, carry this dispatch to Loeve- 
stein; you will read the orders which I give to the 
Governor, and execute them as far as they regard 

The officer bowed, and a few minutes afterwards the 
gallop of a horse was heard resounding in the vaulted 

" 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." 

" How does your Highness wish me to be dressed ? * 
faltered Rosa. 

" Take the costume of a Frisian bride," said William ; 
" it will suit you very well indeed." 



THE fifteenth of May 1673 was a great day for the 
good city of Haarlem. It had to celebrate a threefold 
festival. 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. 

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 remain behindhand, voted a like sum, 
which was placed in the hands of that notable body to 
solemnize the auspicious event. 

And, indeed, on the Sunday fixed for the ceremony, 
there was such a stir among the people, and such an 
enthusiasm among the townsfolk, that even a French- 
man, 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 grower 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. 

At the head of the Notables and of the Horticultural 
Committee shone Mynheer van Herysen, dressed in 
his richest habiliments. 

The worthy man had done his best to resemble 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. 

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." 

There was, however, a little difference between the 
two : very different from the French tribune, whose 
heart was so full of hatred and ambitious vindictive- 
ness, the honest President carried in his bosom a heart 
as innocent as the flowers which he held in his hand. 

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 mili- 
tary, the nobles, and the boors. 

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. 

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 some- 
times also to know what to do. 

This time, however, there was no question either of 
the triumph of Pompey or of Caesar ; 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 sweep- 
ing through the air. 

Haarlem had no other triumphers, except its 
gardeners. Worshipping flowers, Haarlem idolized the 

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. 

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. 

The whole population of Haarlem, swelled by that of 
the neighbourhood, had arranged itself along the beau- 
tiful avenues of trees, with the fixed resolution, this 
time, to applaud neither the heroes of war nor those of 
science, but merely the conqueror of nature, who had 
forced her to produce the black tulip. 

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. 

It therefore, in the first place s cheered Van Herysen 
and his nosegay, then the corporations ; 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 council generously treated 
the assemblage at every halt. 

All eyes were on the lookout for the hero of the day 
of course we mean the grower of the tulip. 

This hero made his appearance at the conclusion of 
the reading of the report, which we have seen Van 
Herysen drawing up with such conscientiousness; and 
he produced almost a greater sensation than the Stadt- 
holder himself. 

There he walked, covered with flowers down to his 
girdle, well combed and brushed, and entirely dressed in 
scarlet, a colour which contrasted strongly with his black 
hair and yellow complexion. 

This hero, radiant with rapturous joy, who had the 
distinguished honour of making the people forget the 
speech of Van Herysen, 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. 

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 pre- 
cedence 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 instru- 
mentality of him, Boxtel, has forced nature to produce 
a black flower, which shall henceforth be called Tulipa 
nigra Boxteilea. 


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. 

She would have been a spectre spoiling the joy of 
the festival for him, just as Banquo's ghost did that of 

And yet, if the truth must be told, this wretch, who 
had stolen what was the boast of a 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 Buitenhof, and from the scaffold to the fortress 
of Lcevestein; 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. 

Yet he did not perceive Rosa ; his joy, therefore, was 
not spoiled. 

In the centre of a circle of magnificent trees, which 
were decorated with garlands and inscriptions, the pro- 
cession 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. 

And the proud tulip, raised on its pedestal, soon over- 
looked the assembled crowd of people, who clapped their 
hands, and made the old town of Haarlem re-echo with 
their tremendous cheers. 



IN 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. 

This carriage, covered with dust, and creaking on its 
axles, the result of a long journey, enclosed the unfor- 
tunate Van Baerle, who was quite dazzled and bewildered 
by this festive splendour and bustle. 

Notwithstanding the little readiness which his com- 
panion had shown in answering his questions concern- 
ing his fate, he ventured once more to ask what all 
this meant. 

" As you may see, sir," replied the officer, " it is a 
feast." " 

" Ah, a feast," said Cornelius, in the sad tone of 
indifference of a man to whom no joy remains in this 

Then, after some moments' silence, during which the 
carriage had proceeded a few yards, he asked once 


" The feast of the patron saint of Haarlem ? as I 
see so many flowers." 

"It is indeed a feast in which flowers play a prin- 
cipal part." 

" Oh, the sweet scents ! oh, the beautiful colours ! " 
cried Cornelius. 

" 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. 

" 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." 

" 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." 

" And what flower is that ? " 

" The tulip." 

"The tulip!" cried Van Baerle. "Is to-day the 
feast of the tulip ? " 

" Yes, sir ; but as this spectacle displeases you, let 
us drive on." 

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, 

" Is the prize given to-day, sir ? " 

" Yes, the prize for the black tulip." 

Cornelius's cheek flushed, his whole frame trembled, 
and the cold sweat stood on his brow. 

" 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." 


" What is it you mean to say ? " 

" I mean to say," replied Cornelius, throwing himselt 
back in the carriage, " that the black tulip will not be 
found, except by one whom I know." 

" 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." 

" The black tulip i " cried Van Baerle, thrusting half 
his body out of the carriage-window* " Where is it ? 
where is it ? " 

" Down there, on the throne. Don't you see ? " 

" I do see it." 

" Come along, sir," said the officer. " Now we must 
drive off." 

" 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 ? O 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." 

" Are you mad, sir ? How could I allow such a 
thing ? " 

" I implore you." 

" But you forget that you are a prisoner." 

" 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 

" But my orders, sir, my orders." And the officer 
again made the driver a sign to proceed. 

Cornelius stopped him once more. 


* f Oh, be forbearing, be generous ; my whole life de- 
pends 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." 

" 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 dis- 
turbance, or heard any noise, it would be ruin to me, as 
well as to you." 

Van Baerle, more afraid for his companion than him- 
self, 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. 

William, impassible and quiet as usual, was proceed- 
ing 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. 

Seeing the man gesticulate with imploring mien, and 
perhaps also recognizing the officer who accompanied 
him, his Highness ordered his carriage to stop. 

In one instant his snorting steeds stood still, at a 
distance of about six yards from the carriage in which 
Van Baerle was caged. 

" What is this ? " the Prince asked the officer, who 
at the first order of the Stadtholder had jumped out of 
the carnage, and was respectively approaching him. 


"' Monseigneur/* he cried, " this is the prisoner of State 
whom I have fetched from Loevestein, and whom I have 
brought to Haarlem according to your Highnesses com- 

" What does he want ? " 

" He entreats for permission to stop here for a 

" 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/' 

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. 

William, looking with his cold glance on Cornelius, 
listened to his anxious and urgent request. 

Then, addressing himself to the officer, he said, 

" Is this person the mutinous prisoner who has 
attempted to kill his jailer at Loevestein ? " 

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. 

He did not try to make a struggle, or to defend Vim- 
self ; 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. 

" Allow the prisoner to alight, and let him see the 
black tulip ; it is well worth being seen once." 

" Thank you, Monseigneur, thank you," said Cor- 
nelius, 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. 

After having granted this permission, the Prince pro- 
ceeded on his way over the green amidst the most en- 
thusiastic acclamations. 

He soon arrived at the platform, and the thunder of 
cannon shook the air. 



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. 

He saw it 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 grace- 
fulness ; 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, 

William rose, casting a tranquil glance over the en- 
thusiastic crowd, and his keen eye rested by turns on 
the three extremities of a. triangle, formed opposite to 
him by three persons of very different interests and 


At one of the angles, Boxtel, trembling with im- 
patience, and quite absorbed in watching the Prince, 
the guilders, the black tulip, and the crowd. 

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. 

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. 

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 

" You know what has brought us here. 

" A prize of one hundred thousand guilders has been 
promised to whosoever should grow the black tulip. 

" 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. 

" The history of its production, and the name of its 
grower, will be inscribed in the book of honour of the 

" Let the person approach to whom the black tulip 

In pronouncing these words, the Prince, to judge of 
the effect they produced, surveyed, with his eagle eye, 
the three extremities of the triangle. 

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 forwards towards him. 

At the sight of Rosa, a double cry arose on the right 
and left of the Prince. 

Boxtel, thunderstruck, and Cornelius, in joyful amaze- 
ment, both exclaimed, 

" Rosa ! Rosa ! " 

" This tulip is yours, is it not, my child ? " said the 

" Yes, Monseigneur," stammered Rosa, whose striking 
beauty excited a general murmur of applause. 

" Oh ! " muttered Cornelius, " she has then belied 
me, when she said this flower was stolen from her. 
Oh, that is why she left Loevestein ! Alas ! am I 
then forgotten, betrayed by her whom I thought my 
best friend on earth ? " 

" Oh ! " sighed Boxtel, " I am lost." 

" This tulip," continued the Prince, " will therefore 
bear the name of its producer, and figure in the cata- 
logue under the title, Tulipa nigra Rosa Barl&ensis, 
which will henceforth be the name of this damsel." 

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, greeting alternately the Prince and his bride ; 
and who, with a grateful look to heaven, returned his 
thanks to the Giver of all this happiness. 

At the same moment, there fell at the feet of the 
President, Van Herysen, another man, struck down by 
a very different emotion. 

Boxtel, crushed by the failure of his hopes, lay sense- 
less on the ground. 


When they raised him, and examined his pulse and 
his heart, he was quite dead. 

This incident did not much disturb the festival, as 
neither the Prince nor the President seemed to mind 
it much. 

Cornelius started back in dismay, when in the thief, 
in the pretended Jacob, he recognized his neighbour 
Isaac Boxtel, whom, in the innocence of his heart, he had 
not for one instant suspected of such a wicked action. 

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 walk- 
ing triumphantly side by side and hand in hand. 

On their arriving at the Hotel de Ville, the Prince, 
pointing with his finger to the purse with the hundred 
thousand guilders, said to Cornelius, 

" 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." 

Cornelius wondered what the Prince was driving at. 
The latter continued, 

" 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 ' ' 

And, saying these words, the Prince handed to Cor- 
nelius that fly-leaf of the Bible on which was written 
the letter of Cornelius de Witte, and in which the third 
sucker had been wrapped. 


"As to you, it has come to light that you were im- 
prisoned 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 Witte, 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 Wittes, wrongly judged, and wrongly punished in 
a moment of popular error, were two great citizens, of 
whom Holland is now proud." 

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. 

Then, heaving a sigh, he said, 

" Alas ! you are 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 the true colours of a tulip." 

And, casting a glance towards that point of the com- 
pass where France lay, as if he saw new clouds gather- 
ing there, he entered his carriage and drove off. 

Cornelius, on his part, started on the same day tc 
Dort with Rosa, who sent her lover's old housekeepei 
as a messenger to her father, to apprise him of all that 
had taken place. 

Old Gryphus was by no means ready to be reconciled 
to his son-in-law. He had not yet forgotten the blows 
which he 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, asj 


he declared, not to be less generous than his Highness 
the Stadtholder, he consented to make his peace. 

Appointed to watch over the tulips, the old man made 
the rudest keeper of flowers in the whole of the Seven 

It was indeed a sight to see him watching the obnox- 
ious moths and butterflies, killing slugs, and driving 
away the hungry bees. 

As he had heard Boxtel's story, and was furious at 
having been the dupe of the pretended Jacob, he de- 
stroyed the sycamore behind which the envious Isaac 
had spied into the garden ; for the plot of ground be- 
longing to him had been bought by Cornelius, and taken 
into his own garden. 

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 

As a matter of course, one was a boy, the other a girl, 
the former being called Cornelius, the other Rosa. 

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. 

The two principal ornaments of his drawing-room 
were those two leaves from the Bible of Cornelius de 
Witte, in large golden frames, one of them containing 
the letter in which his godfather enjoined him to burn 
the correspondence of the Marquise de Louvois, and the 


other his own will, in which he bequeathed to Rosa his 
suckers 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 scru- 
pulously fulfilled, although, or rather because, Cornelius 
did not die. 

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, engraved on the 
wall of his prison, 

" One has sometimes suffered enough to have a right 
ever afterwards to say, I am to<"> happy." 








Dramas, Alexandra 
The black tulip