Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

Grotius to get off.”

“I assure you, Master Gryphus,” replied Van Baerle, “that if

I have entertained the idea of escaping, I most decidedly

have it no longer.”

“Well, well,” said Gryphus, “just look sharp: that’s what I

shall do also. But, for all that, I say his Highness has

made a great mistake.”

“Not to have cut off my head? thank you, Master Gryphus.”

“Just so, look whether the Mynheer de Witt don’t keep very

quiet now.”

“That’s very shocking what you say now, Master Gryphus,”

cried Van Baerle, turning away his head to conceal his

disgust. “You forget that one of those unfortunate gentlemen

was my friend, and the other my second father.”

“Yes, but I also remember that the one, as well as the

other, was a conspirator. And, moreover, I am speaking from

Christian charity.”

“Oh, indeed! explain that a little to me, my good Master

Gryphus. I do not quite understand it.”

“Well, then, if you had remained on the block of Master

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Harbruck —- ”

“What?”

“You would not suffer any longer; whereas, I will not

disguise it from you, I shall lead you a sad life of it.”

“Thank you for the promise, Master Gryphus.”

And whilst the prisoner smiled ironically at the old jailer,

Rosa, from the outside, answered by a bright smile, which

carried sweet consolation to the heart of Van Baerle.

Gryphus stepped towards the window.

It was still light enough to see, although indistinctly,

through the gray haze of the evening, the vast expanse of

the horizon.

“What view has one from here?” asked Gryphus.

“Why, a very fine and pleasant one,” said Cornelius, looking

at Rosa.

“Yes, yes, too much of a view, too much.”

And at this moment the two pigeons, scared by the sight and

especially by the voice of the stranger, left their nest,

and disappeared, quite frightened in the evening mist.

“Halloa! what’s this?” cried Gryphus.

“My pigeons,” answered Cornelius.

“Your pigeons,” cried the jailer, “your pigeons! has a

prisoner anything of his own?”

“Why, then,” said Cornelius, “the pigeons which a merciful

Father in Heaven has lent to me.”

“So, here we have a breach of the rules already,” replied

Gryphus. “Pigeons! ah, young man, young man! I’ll tell you

one thing, that before to-morrow is over, your pigeons will

boil in my pot.”

“First of all you should catch them, Master Gryphus. You

won’t allow these pigeons to be mine! Well, I vow they are

even less yours than mine.”

“Omittance is no acquittance,” growled the jailer, “and I

shall certainly wring their necks before twenty-four hours

are over: you may be sure of that.”

Whilst giving utterance to this ill-natured promise, Gryphus

put his head out of the window to examine the nest. This

gave Van Baerle time to run to the door, and squeeze the

hand of Rosa, who whispered to him, —

“At nine o’clock this evening.”

Gryphus, quite taken up with the desire of catching the

pigeons next day, as he had promised he would do, saw and

heard nothing of this short interlude; and, after having

closed the window, he took the arm of his daughter, left the

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cell, turned the key twice, drew the bolts, and went off to

make the same kind promise to the other prisoners.

He had scarcely withdrawn, when Cornelius went to the door

to listen to the sound of his footsteps, and, as soon as

they had died away, he ran to the window, and completely

demolished the nest of the pigeons.

Rather than expose them to the tender mercies of his

bullying jailer, he drove away for ever those gentle

messengers to whom he owed the happiness of having seen Rosa

again.

This visit of the jailer, his brutal threats, and the gloomy

prospect of the harshness with which, as he had before

experienced, Gryphus watched his prisoners, — all this was

unable to extinguish in Cornelius the sweet thoughts, and

especially the sweet hope, which the presence of Rosa had

reawakened in his heart.

He waited eagerly to hear the clock of the tower of