Chapter 29. In which Van Baerle, before leaving Loewestein, settlesAccounts with Gryphus
The two remained silent for some minutes, Gryphus on the offensive, andVan Baerle on the defensive.
Then, as the situation might be prolonged to an indefinite length,Cornelius, anxious to know something more of the causes which had sofiercely exasperated his jailer, spoke first by putting the question,--
"Well, what do you want, after all?"
"I'll tell you what I want," answered Gryphus; "I want you to restore tome my daughter Rosa."
"Your daughter?" cried Van Baerle.
"Yes, my daughter Rosa, whom you have taken from me by your devilishmagic. Now, will you tell me where she is?"
And the attitude of Gryphus became more and more threatening.
"Rosa is not at Loewestein?" cried Cornelius.
"You know well she is not. Once more, will you restore her to me?"
"I see," said Cornelius, "this is a trap you are laying for me."
"Now, for the last time, will you tell me where my daughter is?"
"Guess it, you rogue, if you don't know it."
"Only wait, only wait," growled Gryphus, white with rage, and withquivering lips, as his brain began to turn. "Ah, you will not tell meanything? Well, I'll unlock your teeth!"
He advanced a step towards Cornelius, and said, showing him the weaponwhich he held in his hands,--
"Do you see this knife? Well, I have killed more than fifty black cockswith it, and I vow I'll kill their master, the devil, as well as them."
"But, you blockhead," said Cornelius, "will you really kill me?"
"I shall open your heart to see in it the place where you hide mydaughter."
Saying this, Gryphus in his frenzy rushed towards Cornelius, who hadbarely time to retreat behind his table to avoid the first thrust; butas Gryphus continued, with horrid threats, to brandish his huge knife,and as, although out of the reach of his weapon, yet, as long as itremained in the madman's hand, the ruffian might fling it at him,Cornelius lost no time, and availing himself of the stick, which he heldtight under his arm, dealt the jailer a vigorous blow on the wrist ofthat hand which held the knife.
The knife fell to the ground, and Cornelius put his foot on it.
Then, as Gryphus seemed bent upon engaging in a struggle which the painin his wrist, and shame for having allowed himself to be disarmed, wouldhave made desperate, Cornelius took a decisive step, belaboring hisjailer with the most heroic self-possession, and selecting the exactspot for every blow of the terrible cudgel.
It was not long before Gryphus begged for mercy. But before begging formercy, he had lustily roared for help, and his cries had roused all thefunctionaries of the prison. Two turnkeys, an inspector, and three orfour guards, made their appearance all at once, and found Corneliusstill using the stick, with the knife under his foot.
At the sight of these witnesses, who could not know all thecircumstances which had provoked and might justify his offence,Cornelius felt that he was irretrievably lost.
In fact, appearances were sadly against him.
In one moment Cornelius was disarmed, and Gryphus raised and supported;and, bellowing with rage and pain, he was able to count on his backand shoulders the bruises which were beginning to swell like the hillsdotting the slopes of a mountain ridge.
A protocol of the violence practiced by the prisoner against his jailerwas immediately drawn up, and as it was made on the depositions ofGryphus, it certainly could not be said to be too tame; the prisonerbeing charged with neither more nor less than with an attempt to murder,for a long time premeditated, with open rebellion.
Whilst the charge was made out against Cornelius, Gryphus, whosepresence was no longer necessary after having made his depositions,was taken down by his turnkeys to his lodge, groaning and covered withbruises.
During this time, the guards who had seized Cornelius busied themselvesin charitably informing their prisoner of the usages and customs ofLoewestein, which however he knew as well as they did. The regulationshad been read to him at the moment of his entering the prison, andcertain articles in them remained fixed in his memory.
Among other things they told him that this regulation had been carriedout to its full extent in the case of a prisoner named Mathias, whoin 1668, that is to say, five years before, had committed a much lessviolent act of rebellion than that of which Cornelius was guilty. He hadfound his soup too hot, and thrown it at the head of the chief turnkey,who in consequence of this ablution had been put to the inconvenience ofhaving his skin come off as he wiped his face.
Mathias was taken within twelve hours from his cell, then led to thejailer's lodge, where he was registered as leaving Loewestein, thentaken to the Esplanade, from which there is a very fine prospect overa wide expanse of country. There they fettered his hands, bandaged hiseyes, and let him say his prayers.
Hereupon he was invited to go down on his knees, and the guards ofLoewestein, twelve in number, at a sign from a sergeant, very cleverlylodged a musket-ball each in his body.
In consequence of this proceeding, Mathias incontinently did then andthere die.
Cornelius listened with the greatest attention to this delightfulrecital, and then said,--
"Ah! ah! within twelve hours, you say?"
"Yes, the twelfth hour had not even struck, if I remember right," saidthe guard who had told him the story.
"Thank you," said Cornelius.
The guard still had the smile on his face with which he accompanied andas it were accentuated his tale, when footsteps and a jingling of spurswere heard ascending the stair-case.
The guards fell back to allow an officer to pass, who entered the cellof Cornelius at the moment when the clerk of Loewestein was still makingout his report.
"Is this No. 11?" he asked.
"Yes, Captain," answered a non-commissioned officer.
"Then this is the cell of the prisoner Cornelius van Baerle?"
"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 time addressing theprisoner himself.
"Yes, sir."
"Then follow me."
"Oh! oh!" said Cornelius, whose heart felt oppressed by the first dreadof death. "What quick work they make here in the fortress of Loewestein.And the rascal talked to me of twelve hours!"
"Ah! what did I tell you?" whispered the communicative guard in the earof the culprit.
"A lie."
"How so?"
"You promised me twelve hours."
"Ah, yes, but here comes to you an aide-de-camp of his Highness, evenone of his most intimate companions Van Deken. Zounds! they did notgrant such an honour to poor Mathias."
"Come, come!" said Cornelius, drawing a long breath. "Come, I'll showto these people that an honest burgher, godson of Cornelius de Witt, canwithout flinching receive as many musket-balls as that Mathias."
Saying this, he passed proudly before the clerk, who, being interruptedin 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 up his paper andpen into a greasy and well-worn writing-case.
"It was written," thought poor Cornelius, "that I should not in thisworld give my name either to a child to a flower, or to a book,--thethree things by which a man's memory is perpetuated."
Repressing his melancholy thoughts, he followed the officer with aresolute heart, and carrying his head erect.
Cornelius counted the steps which led to the Esplanade, regretting thathe had not asked the guard how many there were 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 heconsi
dered as leading him to the end of the journey of life, was to seeGryphus and not to see Rosa. What savage satisfaction would glisten inthe eyes of the father, and what sorrow dim those of the daughter!
How Gryphus would glory in his punishment! Punishment? Rather savagevengeance for an eminently righteous deed, which Cornelius had thesatisfaction of having performed as a bounden duty.
But Rosa, poor girl! must he die without a glimpse of her, without anopportunity to give her one last kiss, or even to say one last word offarewell?
And, worst of all, must he die without any intelligence of the blacktulip, and regain his consciousness in heaven with no idea in whatdirection he should look to find it?
In truth, to restrain his tears at such a crisis the poor wretch'sheart must have been encased in more of the aes triplex--"the triplebrass"--than Horace bestows upon the sailor who first visited theterrifying Acroceraunian shoals.
In vain did Cornelius look to the right and to the left; he saw no signeither of Rosa or Gryphus.
On reaching the Esplanade, he bravely looked about for the guardswho were to be his executioners, and in reality saw a dozen soldiersassembled. But they were not standing in line, or carrying muskets, buttalking together so gayly that Cornelius felt almost shocked.
All at once, Gryphus, limping, staggering, and supporting himself on acrooked stick, came forth from the jailer's lodge; his old eyes, grayas those of a cat, were lit up by a gleam in which all his hatred wasconcentrated. He then began to pour forth such a torrent of disgustingimprecations against Cornelius, that the latter, addressing the officer,said,--
"I do not think it very becoming sir, that I should be thus insulted bythis man, especially at a moment like this."
"Well! hear me," said the officer, laughing, "it is quite natural thatthis worthy fellow should bear you a grudge,--you seem to have given ithim very soundly."
"But, sir, it was only in self-defence."
"Never mind," said the Captain, shrugging his shoulders like a truephilosopher, "let him talk; what does it matter to you now?"
The cold sweat stood on the brow of Cornelius at this answer, which helooked upon somewhat in the light of brutal irony, especially as comingfrom an officer of whom he had heard it said that he was attached to theperson of the Prince.
The unfortunate tulip-fancier then felt that he had no more resources,and no more friends, and resigned himself to his fate.
"God's will be done," he muttered, bowing his head; then, turningtowards the officer, who seemed complacently to wait until he hadfinished 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 remindedhim very strongly of that which, under similar circumstances, had beforeattracted his attention at Buytenhof.
"Enter," said the officer.
"Ah!" muttered Cornelius to himself, "it seems they are not going totreat me to the honours of the Esplanade."
He uttered these words loud enough for the chatty guard, who was at hisheels, to overhear him.
That kind soul very likely thought it his duty to give Cornelius somenew information; for, approaching the door of the carriage, whilst theofficer, with one foot on the step, was still giving some orders, hewhispered to Van Baerle,--
"Condemned prisoners have sometimes been taken to their own town to bemade an example of, and have then been executed before the door of theirown house. It's all according to circumstances."
Cornelius thanked him by signs, and then said to himself,--
"Well, here is a fellow who never misses giving consolation whenever anopportunity presents itself. In truth, my friend, I'm very much obligedto you. Goodbye."
The carriage drove away.
"Ah! you villain, you brigand," roared Gryphus, clinching his fists atthe victim who was escaping from his clutches, "is it not a shame thatthis fellow gets off without having restored my daughter to me?"
"If they take me to Dort," thought Cornelius, "I shall see, in passingmy house, whether my poor borders have been much spoiled."