On the eve of the day when the flower was expected to open,
the tulip was taken away by this young woman. She carried it
to her room, from which I had the good luck to recover it at
the very moment when she had the impudence to despatch a
messenger to announce to the members of the Horticultural
Society that she had produced the grand black tulip. But she
did not stop there. There is no doubt that, during the few
hours which she kept the flower in her room, she showed it
to some persons whom she may now call as witnesses. But,
fortunately, your Highness has now been warned against this
impostor and her witnesses.”
“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, “Cornelius 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 Cornelius 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 convicted? Of having, as
an accomplice of Cornelius de Witt, concealed the
correspondence of the Grand Pensionary 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 harboured a secret without
revealing it to me? No, no, your Highness, I repeat it, and
even at the risk of incurring your displeasure, Cornelius is
no more guilty of the first crime than of the second; and of
the second no more than of the first. Oh, would to Heaven
that you knew my Cornelius; Monseigneur!”
“He is a De Witt!” cried Boxtel. “His Highness knows only
too much of him, having once granted him his life.”
Page 152
Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
“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 will not punish you; but the real
evil-doer shall pay the penalty for both. A man of his name
may be a conspirator, and even a traitor, but he ought not
to be a thief.”
“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 bulbs 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 answered, —
“Three.”
“What has become of these bulbs?”
“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 Loewestein, or at Dort?”