Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

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

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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

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, 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 Systens, the President of the Horticultural 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

description.

The President was drawing up a report to the committee 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 Systens,

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 character 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 Systens, 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?”

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“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 ago.”

“You have seen the black tulip!” cried Rosa, rushing up to

Mynheer van Systens.

“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 honorable Mynheer van Systens, Burgomaster of

Haarlem, and President of the Horticultural Society.”

“And what is it you told me just now?”

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