“As often as I can manage it.”
“Oh, Rosa, my beautiful Rosa, do you love me a little?”
“A little?” she said, “you make no great pretensions,
Mynheer Cornelius.”
Cornelius tenderly stretched out his hands towards her, but
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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.
Chapter 15
The Little Grated Window
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
Barneveldt, whom I saw executed when I was a child. Ah! so
Grotius; and that’s the chamber from which he escaped. Well,
I’ll answer for it that no one shall escape after him in my
time.”
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 executioner.
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
am 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 within the circle of light cast
around by the lantern.
“Halloa! that’s you, Mynheer van Baerle,” said Gryphus.
“That’s you; well, I declare, it’s astonishing 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.”
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“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 Buytenhof, who knows his trade well,
wanted to break it again, to set it in the regular way, and
promised me that I should have my blessed three months for
my money before I should be able to move it.”
“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 the devil, Master Gryphus, you ought
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 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