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“Is this person the mutinous prisoner who has attempted to

kill his jailer at Loewestein?”

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 himself; and

he presented to the Prince the affecting spectacle of

despairing innocence, like that of a child, — a spectacle

which was fully understood and felt by the great mind and

the great heart of him who observed it.

“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 Cornelius, nearly

swooning with joy, and staggering on the steps of his

carriage; had not the officer supported him, our poor friend

would have made his thanks to his Highness prostrate on his

knees with his forehead in the dust.

After having granted this permission, the Prince proceeded

on his way over the green amidst the most enthusiastic

acclamations.

He soon arrived at the platform, and the thunder of cannon

shook the air.

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Chapter 33

Conclusion

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 at last, that unique flower, which he was to see

once and no more. He saw it at the distance of six paces,

and was delighted with its perfection and gracefulness; he

saw it surrounded by young and beautiful girls, who formed,

as it were, a guard of honour for this queen of excellence

and purity. And yet, the more he ascertained with his own

eyes the perfection of the flower, the more wretched and

miserable he felt. He looked all around for some one to whom

he might address only one question, but his eyes everywhere

met strange faces, and the attention of all was directed

towards the chair of state, on which the Stadtholder had

seated himself.

William rose, casting a tranquil glance over the

enthusiastic crowd, and his keen eyes rested by turns on the

three extremities of a triangle formed opposite to him by

three persons of very different interests and feelings.

At one of the angles, Boxtel, trembling with impatience, 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 spectators. —

“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 city.

“Let the person approach to whom the black tulip belongs.”

In pronouncing these words, the Prince, to judge of the

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effect they produced, surveyed with his eagle eye the three

extremities of the triangle.

He saw Boxtel rushing forward. He saw Cornelius make an