“Monseigneur,” replied the Captain, “this is the third gate
at which I have presented myself; the other two 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 had spoken in such a familiar way.
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
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
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 servants, he
sounded it with a shrill and prolonged call, on which an
equerry on horseback speedily made his appearance, 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 Witt 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 Witt
have been served! Oh thou Sun! thou Sun! as truly as I am
called William the Silent, thou Sun, thou hadst best look to
thy rays!”
And the young Prince, the relentless rival of the Great
King, sped away upon his fiery steed, — this future
Stadtholder who had been but the day before very uncertainly
established in his new power, but for whom the burghers of
the Hague had built a staircase with the bodies of John and
Cornelius, two princes as noble as he in the eyes of God and man.
Chapter 5
The Tulip-fancier and his Neighbour
Whilst the burghers of the Hague were tearing in pieces the
bodies of John and Cornelius de Witt, and whilst William of
Orange, after having made sure that his two antagonists were
really dead, was galloping over 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
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
suspecting what terrible events had taken place since his
departure, proceeded along the high road lined with trees,
until he was clear of the town and the neighbouring
villages.
Being once safe, he left his horse at a livery stable in
order not to arouse suspicion, and tranquilly continued his
journey on the canal-boats, which conveyed him by easy
stages to Dort, pursuing their way under skilful guidance by
the shortest possible routes through the windings of the
river, which held in its watery embrace so many enchanting
little islands, edged with willows and rushes, and abounding
in luxurious vegetation, whereon flocks of fat sheep browsed
in peaceful sleepiness. Craeke from afar off recognised
Dort, the smiling city, at the foot of a hill dotted with