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移除书签In which Van Baerle, before leaving Loewestein,Settles Accounts with Gryphus
The two remained silent for some minutes, Gryphus on theoffensive, and Van Baerle on the defensive.
Then, as the situation might be prolonged to an indefinitelength, Cornelius, anxious to know something more of thecauses which had so fiercely exasperated his jailer, spokefirst by putting the question, –“Well, what do you want, after all?” —
“I’ll tell you what I want,” answered Gryphus; —
“I want you torestore to me my daughter Rosa.”“Your daughter?” cried Van Baerle.
“Yes, my daughter Rosa, whom you have taken from me by yourdevilish magic. —
Now, will you tell me where she is?“And the attitude of Gryphus became more and morethreatening.
”Rosa is not at Loewestein?” cried Cornelius.
“You know well she is not. Once more, will you restore herto me?” —
“I see,” said Cornelius, “this is a trap you are laying forme.” —
“Now, for the last time, will you tell me where my daughteris?” —
“Guess it, you rogue, if you don’t know it.” —
“Only wait, only wait,” growled Gryphus, white with rage,and with quivering lips, as his brain began to turn. —
“Ah,you will not tell me anything? Well, I’ll unlock yourteeth!” —
He advanced a step towards Cornelius, and said, showing himthe weapon which he held in his hands, –“Do you see this knife? —
Well, I have killed more than fiftyblack cocks with it, and I vow I’ll kill their master, thedevil, as well as them.” —
“But, you blockhead,” said Cornelius, “will you really killme?” —
“I shall open your heart to see in it the place where youhide my daughter.” —
Saying this, Gryphus in his frenzy rushed towards Cornelius,who had barely time to retreat behind his table to avoid thefirst thrust; —
but as Gryphus continued, with horrid threats,to brandish his huge knife, and as, although out of thereach of his weapon, yet, as long as it remained in themadman’s hand, the ruffian might fling it at him, Corneliuslost no time, and availing himself of the stick, which heheld tight under his arm, dealt the jailer a vigorous blowon the wrist of that hand which held the knife.
The knife fell to the ground, and Cornelius put his foot onit.
Then, as Gryphus seemed bent upon engaging in a strugglewhich the pain in his wrist, and shame for having allowedhimself to be disarmed, would have made desperate, Corneliustook a decisive step, belaboring his jailer with the mostheroic self-possession, and selecting the exact spot forevery blow of the terrible cudgel.
It was not long before Gryphus begged for mercy. —
But beforebegging for mercy, he had lustily roared for help, and hiscries had roused all the functionaries of the prison. —
Twoturnkeys, an inspector, and three or four guards, made theirappearance all at once, and found Cornelius still using thestick, with the knife under his foot.
At the sight of these witnesses, who could not know all thecircumstances which had provoked and might justify hisoffence, Cornelius felt that he was irretrievably lost.
In fact, appearances were sadly against him.
In one moment Cornelius was disarmed, and Gryphus raised andsupported; —
and, bellowing with rage and pain, he was able tocount on his back and shoulders the bruises which werebeginning to swell like the hills dotting the slopes of amountain ridge.
A protocol of the violence practiced by the prisoner againsthis jailer was immediately drawn up, and as it was made onthe depositions of Gryphus, it certainly could not be saidto be too tame; —
the prisoner being charged with neither morenor less than with an attempt to murder, for a long timepremeditated, with open rebellion.
Whilst the charge was made out against Cornelius, Gryphus,whose presence was no longer necessary after having made hisdepositions, was taken down by his turnkeys to his lodge,groaning and covered with bruises.
During this time, the guards who had seized Cornelius busiedthemselves in charitably informing their prisoner of theusages and customs of Loewestein, which however he knew aswell as they did. —
The regulations had been read to him atthe moment of his entering the prison, and certain articlesin them remained fixed in his memory.
Among other things they told him that this regulation hadbeen carried out to its full extent in the case of aprisoner named Mathias, who in 1668, that is to say, fiveyears before, had committed a much less violent act ofrebellion than that of which Cornelius was guilty. —
He hadfound his soup too hot, and thrown it at the head of thechief turnkey, who in consequence of this ablution had beenput to the inconvenience of having his skin come off as hewiped his face.
Mathias was taken within twelve hours from his cell, thenled to the jailer’s lodge, where he was registered asleaving Loewestein, then taken to the Esplanade, from whichthere is a very fine prospect over a wide expanse ofcountry. —
There they fettered his hands, bandaged his eyes,and let him say his prayers.
Hereupon he was invited to go down on his knees, and theguards of Loewestein, twelve in number, at a sign from asergeant, very cleverly lodged a musket-ball each in hisbody.
In consequence of this proceeding, Mathias incontinently didthen and there die.
Cornelius listened with the greatest attention to thisdelightful recital, and then said, –“Ah! ah! —
within twelve hours, you say?”“Yes, the twelfth hour had not even struck, if I rememberright,” said the guard who had told him the story.
”Thank you,” said Cornelius.
The guard still had the smile on his face with which heaccompanied and as it were accentuated his tale, whenfootsteps and a jingling of spurs were heard ascending thestair-case.
The guards fell back to allow an officer to pass, whoentered the cell of Cornelius at the moment when the clerkof Loewestein was still making out his report.
”Is this No. 11?” he asked.
”Yes, Captain,” answered a non-commissioned officer.
“Then this is the cell of the prisoner Cornelius vanBaerle?”“Exactly, Captain.” —
“Where is the prisoner?”“Here I am, sir,” answered Cornelius, growing rather pale,notwithstanding all his courage.
”You are Dr. Cornelius van Baerle?” asked he, this timeaddressing the prisoner himself.
“Yes, sir.”“Then follow me.”“Oh! oh!” —
said Cornelius, whose heart felt oppressed by thefirst dread of death. —
“What quick work they make here in thefortress of Loewestein. —
And the rascal talked to me oftwelve hours!”“Ah! what did I tell you?” —
whispered the communicative guardin the ear of the culprit.
“A lie.”“How so?”“You promised me twelve hours.” —
“Ah, yes, but here comes to you an aide-de-camp of hisHighness, even one of his most intimate companions VanDeken. Zounds! —
they did not grant such an honour to poorMathias.”“Come, come!” —
said Cornelius, drawing a long breath. “Come,I’ll show to these people that an honest burgher, godson ofCornelius de Witt, can without flinching receive as manymusket-balls as that Mathias.” —
Saying this, he passed proudly before the clerk, who, beinginterrupted in his work, ventured to say to the officer, –“But, Captain van Deken, the protocol is not yet finished.” —
“It is not worth while finishing it,” answered the officer.
”All right,” replied the clerk, philosophically putting uphis paper and pen into a greasy and well-worn writing-case.
“It was written,” thought poor Cornelius, “that I should notin this world give my name either to a child to a flower, orto a book, – the three things by which a man’s memory isperpetuated.” —
Repressing his melancholy thoughts, he followed the officerwith a resolute heart, and carrying his head erect.
Cornelius counted the steps which led to the Esplanade,regretting that he had not asked the guard how many therewere of them, which the man, in his official complaisance,would not have failed to tell him.
What the poor prisoner was most afraid of during this walk,which he considered as leading him to the end of the journeyof life, was to see Gryphus and not to see Rosa. What savagesatisfaction would glisten in the eyes of the father, andwhat sorrow dim those of the daughter!
How Gryphus would glory in his punishment! Punishment?
Rather savage vengeance for an eminently righteous deed,which Cornelius had the satisfaction of having performed asa bounden duty.
But Rosa, poor girl! must he die without a glimpse of her,without an opportunity to give her one last kiss, or even tosay one last word of farewell?
And, worst of all, must he die without any intelligence ofthe black tulip, and regain his consciousness in heaven withno idea in what direction he should look to find it?
In truth, to restrain his tears at such a crisis the poorwretch’s heart must have been encased in more of the aestriplex – “the triple brass” – than Horace bestows uponthe sailor who first visited the terrifying Acroceraunianshoals.
In vain did Cornelius look to the right and to the left; —
hesaw no sign either of Rosa or Gryphus.
On reaching the Esplanade, he bravely looked about for theguards who were to be his executioners, and in reality saw adozen soldiers assembled. —
But they were not standing inline, or carrying muskets, but talking together so gaylythat Cornelius felt almost shocked.
All at once, Gryphus, limping, staggering, and supportinghimself on a crooked stick, came forth from the jailer’slodge; —
his old eyes, gray as those of a cat, were lit up bya gleam in which all his hatred was concentrated. —
He thenbegan to pour forth such a torrent of disgustingimprecations against Cornelius, that the latter, addressingthe officer, said, –“I do not think it very becoming sir, that I should be thusinsulted by this man, especially at a moment like this.” —
“Well! hear me,” said the officer, laughing, “it is quitenatural that this worthy fellow should bear you a grudge, –you seem to have given it him very soundly.” —
“But, sir, it was only in self-defence.”“Never mind,” said the Captain, shrugging his shoulders likea true philosopher, “let him talk; —
what does it matter toyou now?“The cold sweat stood on the brow of Cornelius at thisanswer, which he looked upon somewhat in the light of brutalirony, especially as coming from an officer of whom he hadheard it said that he was attached to the person of thePrince.
The unfortunate tulip-fancier then felt that he had no moreresources, and no more friends, and resigned himself to hisfate.
“God’s will be done,” he muttered, bowing his head; —
then,turning towards the officer, who seemed complacently to waituntil he had finished his meditations he asked, –“Please, sir, tell me now, where am I to go?” —
The officer pointed to a carriage, drawn by four horses,which reminded him very strongly of that which, undersimilar circumstances, had before attracted his attention atBuytenhof.
”Enter,” said the officer.
“Ah!” muttered Cornelius to himself, “it seems they are notgoing to treat me to the honours of the Esplanade.” —
He uttered these words loud enough for the chatty guard, whowas at his heels, to overhear him.
That kind soul very likely thought it his duty to giveCornelius some new information; —
for, approaching the door ofthe carriage, whilst the officer, with one foot on the step,was still giving some orders, he whispered to Van Baerle, –“Condemned prisoners have sometimes been taken to their owntown to be made an example of, and have then been executedbefore the door of their own house. —
It’s all according tocircumstances.“Cornelius thanked him by signs, and then said to himself, –“Well, here is a fellow who never misses giving consolationwhenever an opportunity presents itself. —
In truth, myfriend, I’m very much obliged to you. —
Goodbye.“The carriage drove away.
“Ah! you villain, you brigand,” roared Gryphus, clinchinghis fists at the victim who was escaping from his clutches,“is it not a shame that this fellow gets off without havingrestored my daughter to me?” —
“If they take me to Dort,” thought Cornelius, “I shall see,in passing my house, whether my poor borders have been muchspoiled.”
