Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

peculiar to men of his profession; “be easy, gentlemen, my

soldiers will not fire a shot; but, on the other hand, you

will not advance by one step towards the prison.”

“And do you know, sir, that we have muskets?” roared the

commandant of the burghers.

“I must know it, by Jove, you have made them glitter enough

before my eyes; but I beg you to observe also that we on our

side have pistols, that the pistol carries admirably to a

distance of fifty yards, and that you are only twenty-five

from us.”

“Death to the traitors!” cried the exasperated burghers.

“Go along with you,” growled the officer, “you always cry

the same thing over again. It is very tiresome.”

With this, he took his post at the head of his troops,

whilst the tumult grew fiercer and fiercer about the

Buytenhof.

And yet the fuming crowd did not know that, at that very

moment when they were tracking the scent of one of their

victims, the other, as if hurrying to meet his fate, passed,

at a distance of not more than a hundred yards, behind the

groups of people and the dragoons, to betake himself to the

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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

Buytenhof.

John de Witt, indeed, had alighted from his coach with his

servant, and quietly walked across the courtyard of the

prison.

Mentioning his name to the turnkey, who however knew him, he

said, —

“Good morning, Gryphus; I am coming to take away my brother,

who, as you know, is condemned to exile, and to carry him

out of the town.”

Whereupon the jailer, a sort of bear, trained to lock and

unlock the gates of the prison, had greeted him and admitted

him into the building, the doors of which were immediately

closed again.

Ten yards farther on, John de Witt met a lovely young girl,

of about seventeen or eighteen, dressed in the national

costume of the Frisian women, who, with pretty demureness,

dropped a curtesy to him. Chucking her under the chin, he

said to her, —

“Good morning, my good and fair Rosa; how is my brother?”

“Oh, Mynheer John!” the young girl replied, “I am not afraid

of the harm which has been done to him. That’s all over

now.”

“But what is it you are afraid of?”

“I am afraid of the harm which they are going to do to him.”

“Oh, yes,” said De Witt, “you mean to speak of the people

down below, don’t you?”

“Do you hear them?”

“They are indeed in a state of great excitement; but when

they see us perhaps they will grow calmer, as we have never

done them anything but good.”

“That’s unfortunately no reason, except for the contrary,”

muttered the girl, as, on an imperative sign from her

father, she withdrew.

“Indeed, child, what you say is only too true.”

Then, in pursuing his way, he said to himself, —

“Here is a damsel who very likely does not know how to read,

who consequently has never read anything, and yet with one

word she has just told the whole history of the world.”

And with the same calm mien, but more melancholy than he had

been on entering the prison, the Grand Pensionary proceeded

towards the cell of his brother.

Chapter 2

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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

The Two Brothers

As the fair Rosa, with foreboding doubt, had foretold, so it

happened. Whilst John de Witt was climbing the narrow

winding stairs which led to the prison of his brother

Cornelius, the burghers did their best to have the troop of

Tilly, which was in their way, removed.

Seeing this disposition, King Mob, who fully appreciated the

laudable intentions of his own beloved militia, shouted most

lustily, —

“Hurrah for the burghers!”

As to Count Tilly, who was as prudent as he was firm, he

began to parley with the burghers, under the protection of

the cocked pistols of his dragoons, explaining to the

valiant townsmen, that his order from the States commanded

him to guard the prison and its approaches with three

companies.

“Wherefore such an order? Why guard the prison?” cried the