“Speak!”
The shouts began anew.
“Hark, hark!” continued Cornelius, “how angry those people
are! Is it against you, or against me?”
“I should say it is against us both, Cornelius. I told you,
my dear brother, that the Orange party, while assailing us
with their absurd calumnies, have also made it a reproach
against us that we have negotiated with France.”
“What blockheads they are!”
“But, indeed, they reproach us with it.”
“And yet, if these negotiations had been successful, they
would have prevented the defeats of Rees, Orsay, Wesel, and
Rheinberg; the Rhine would not have been crossed, and
Holland might still consider herself invincible in the midst
of her marshes and canals.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
“All this is quite true, my dear Cornelius, but still more
certain it is, that if at this moment our correspondence
with the Marquis de Louvois were discovered, skilful pilot
as I am, I should not be able to save the frail barque which
is to carry the brothers De Witt and their fortunes out of
Holland. That correspondence, which might prove to honest
people how dearly I love my country, and what sacrifices I
have offered to make for its liberty and glory, would be
ruin to us if it fell into the hands of the Orange party. I
hope you have burned the letters before you left Dort to
join me at the Hague.”
“My dear brother,” Cornelius answered, “your correspondence
with M. de Louvois affords ample proof of your having been
of late the greatest, most generous, and most able citizen
of the Seven United Provinces. I rejoice in the glory of my
country; and particularly do I rejoice in your glory, John.
I have taken good care not to burn that correspondence.”
“Then we are lost, as far as this life is concerned,”
quietly said the Grand Pensionary, approaching the window.
“No, on the contrary, John, we shall at the same time save
our lives and regain our popularity.”
“But what have you done with these letters?”
“I have intrusted them to the care of Cornelius van Baerle,
my godson, whom you know, and who lives at Dort.”
“Poor honest Van Baerle! who knows so much, and yet thinks
of nothing but of flowers and of God who made them. You have
intrusted him with this fatal secret; it will be his ruin,
poor soul!”
“His ruin?”
“Yes, for he will either be strong or he will be weak. If he
is strong, he will, when he hears of what has happened to
us, boast of our acquaintance; if he is weak, he will be
afraid on account of his connection with us: if he is
strong, he will betray the secret by his boldness; if he is
weak, he will allow it to be forced from him. In either case
he is lost, and so are we. Let us, therefore, fly, fly, as
long as there is still time.”
Cornelius de Witt, raising himself on his couch, and
grasping the hand of his brother, who shuddered at the touch
of his linen bandages, replied, —
“Do not I know my godson? have not I been enabled to read
every thought in Van Baerle’s mind, and every sentiment in
his heart? You ask whether he is strong or weak. He is
neither the one nor the other; but that is not now the
question. The principal point is, that he is sure not to
divulge the secret, for the very good reason that he does
not know it himself.”
John turned round in surprise.
“You must know, my dear brother, that I have been trained in
the school of that distinguished politician John de Witt;
and I repeat to you, that Van Baerle is not aware of the
nature and importance of the deposit which I have intrusted
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
to him.”
“Quick then,” cried John, “as there is still time, let us
convey to him directions to burn the parcel.”
“Through whom?”
“Through my servant Craeke, who was to have accompanied us
on horseback, and who has entered the prison with me, to
assist you downstairs.”
“Consider well before having those precious documents burnt,