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VOL. 1.
HARTFORD, OHIO COUNTY, KY SEPTEMBER 1, 1875,
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OUR TAtTII.
BV VIOLET.
As little children, we meekly trust
For something brighter, better yet.
And purer than the sordid dust
Wherein our earthly lives are set.
Something brighter just beyond
The gloomy circle of the night;
A purer day, more brilliant run,
And perfect fullness of tho light.
IV e know, and yet we cannot see,
That when our dreary sunlight dies,
Upon a fxirer world than ours
In summer splendor it doth rise.
'Its thus when life's pale inn shall dip
Beneath the awful rim of death,
Beyond the limits of the flesh,
The narrow spaces of the breath,
On heavenly worlds, serene and bright,
That eyes of flesh may never scan,
In cloudless beauty it shall rise.
And round into God's perfect plan.
Our every dim, imperfect joy,
In heaven shall be most good and fair;
Each timid hope that budded here,
Shall bloom in bright fruition there.
AH the grand dreamt that bless ns here,
With something of the light of heaven,
Shall to or, on yon bright shore,
In fall reality be given.
Here earth hath bound onr sordid lives,
To a few pale stars a gleam of light
A flowery landscape, stretching on
In beauty farther than the tight
A day of clouds, that leaves at night
Our souls still yearning tot the sun
And joys we garner but to lose,
And hopes we bury one by one.
Bat there the circle of our eight
Shall widen to the boundless sky,
And sweep Its myriads of stars,
Its height, its depth infinity.
And there the heart, the soul, of man,
Uot-ammcleJ with its carnal sin,
The deep, Infinite joys of heaven
Shall to their fullness gather in.
The beauty that we lose on earth,
The joys that perish in our arms,
Shall live through endless ages there,
And bloom with heaven's i ternal charms.
Titiostowx, Kt., August, 1S7S.
THE BLACK TULIP.
nr ALEXANDRE DCJIAS,
Author or the "Count or Jtoiitc Crlslo,"'
rise Three Gn rilnien," Twenty
1'mk After." "nraxeloune. the
Won or Atha,l.ouiu la
ValHcre." "Trip Irou
-Man It' Etc, Etc
CHAPTER I.
a cnvrcFcr. reorLE.
On the 23th of August 1072, the city of
the Hague always so lively, go neat, ami
bo trim, that one might believe every day
to be Sunday; with its shady park, witli
its tall trees, epreading over its Gothic
houses, with its canals like large mirrors,
in which iU steeples and its almost
Eistern cupolas are reflected; the city of
the Hague, the capital of the Seven
United Provinces, was swelling in all its
arteries with a black and red stream ot
hurried, panting, and restless citizans,
who, with their knives in their girdles,
muskets on their shoulder;, or sticks in
their hands, were poshing on to the Bui
tenhof, a terrible prison, the grated win
dows of which are still shown, where, on
the charge of attempted murder, preferred
against him by the surgeon Tyckalaer,
Cornelius De Wittc, the brother of the
Grand Pensionary of Holland was con
fined.. If the history of that time, and t-speci-ally
that of the year in the middle of
which oar narrative commences, were not
indiseolubly connected with the two
names just mentioned, a few explanatory
pages which we are about to add might
appear quite supererogatory; but we will,
from the very first apprise the reader
our old friend, to whom we are wont on
the first page to promise amusement, and
with whom we always try to keep our
word as well as is in our power that this
explanation is as indispensible to the right
understanding of our Btory, as to that of
the great event itself on which it is based.
Cornelius De Witte, warden of the
dykes, ex burgomaster of Dort, his native
town, and member of the Assembly of the
States of Holland, was forty-nine years ol
age, when the Dutch people, tired of the
republic such as John De Witte.tbeGraud
Pensionary of Holland, understood it, at
once conceived a most violent affection for
the Stadtholderate, which bad been abol
ished forever in Holland, by the ''Perpet
ual Edict'' forced by John De Witte, upon
the United Provinces.
As it rarely happens that public opin
ion, in its whimsical flights, docs not
identify a principle with a man, thus the
people saw the personification of the re'
public in the two stern figures of the
brothera De Witte, those Romans of Hol
land, spurning to pander to the fancies of
the mob, and wedding themselves with
unbending fidelity to liberty without li
centiousness, and prosperity without the
waste of superfluity; on the other hand,
the Stadtholderate recalled to the popular
mind, the grave thoughtful image of the
young Prince William of Orange,
The brothers De Wittc humored Louis
XIV., whose moral influence was felt by
the whole of Europe, and the pressure of
whose material power Holland had been
made to feel in that marvellous campaign
on the Rhine which in the ppace of three
months, had laid the power of the United
Provinces prostrate.
I Loui XtV. had long been the encmyj
of the Dutch, who insulted or ridiculed
him to their hearts' content, although it
must be said, that they generally used
French refugees for the month-piece of
their spite. Their national pride held
him up ns the Mithridates of the repub
lic. The brothers Di Wittc, thercforei
had to strive against a double difficulty,
against the force of national antipathy,
and, besides, against that feeling of weari
ness which is natural to all vanquished
people, when they hope that a new chief
will be able to save them from ruin and
shame.
This new chief, quite ready to appear
on the political stage, and to measure him
self against Louis XIV., however gigan
tic the fortunes of the Grand Monarch
loomed in the future, was William,
Prince of Orange, son of William II., an J
grandson, by his mother Mary Stuart, of
Charles I. of England. Wc have men
tioned him before as the person by whom
the people expected to see the office of
Stadtholder restored.
This young man was, in 1072, twenty-
two years of age. John De v ittc, who
was Ills tutor, had brought him up with
the view of making him a good citizen.
Loving hia country better than he did
Ins disciple, the master had, by the "Per
petual EJict," extinguished the hope
which the young Prince might have en
tertained of one day becoming Stadthol
der. But God laughs at the presumption
of man, who wants to raise and prostrate
the powers on earth without consulting
the King above; and the fickleness and
caprice of the Dutch combined with the
terror inspired by Louis XIV., in repeal
ing the "Perpetual Edict,' and re-estab
lishing the office os Stadtholder in favor
of William of Orange, for whom the hand
of Providence had traced out ulterior des
tinies on the hidden map of the future.
The Grand Pensionary bowed before
the will of his fellow citizenp; Cornelius
De Wilte, however, was more obstinate,
and notwithstanding nil the threats of
death from the Orangist rabble, who be
sieged him in his house at Dort, he stout
ly refused to sign the act by which the
office of Stadtholder was restored.
Moved by the tears and entreaties of his
wife, he at last complied, only adding to
his signature the two letters V. C. (17
Coaetus), notifying thereby, that he only
yielded to force.
It was a real miracle that on that day
he escaped from the doom intended for
him.
John De Wittc derived no advantage
from his ready compliance witli the wish
es of his fellow citizens. Only a few days
after, an attempt was made to stab him,
in which he was severely although not
morlallv wounded.
This by no means suited the views of
the Orange faction. The life of the two
brothers being a constant obstacle to their
plans, they changed their tactics, and
trio! to obtain by calumny what they had
not been able to effect by the aid of the
poniard.
How rarely does it happen that, in the
right moment, a great man is found to
head the execution of vast and noble de
signs, but it as rarely happens, that when
the devil's work is to be done, the mis
creant is not at band, who readily and at
once enters upon the infamous task.
The wretched tool in this instance was
Tyckclacr, a surgeon by profession. He
lodged an information against Cornelius
De Witte, setting forth', that the warden
who, as he had shown by the letters
added to his signature, was fuming at the
repeal of the "Perpetual Edict" had,
from hatred against William of Orange,
hired an assassin to deliver the new re
public of its new Stadtholder; and he.
Tyckelaer, was the person thus chosen;
but that, horrified at the bare idea of the
act which he was asked to perpetrate, he
had preferred rather to reveal the crime
than to commit it.
This disclosure was.indeed.well calcula
ted to call forth a furious outbreak among
the Orange faction. The Attorney-Gen
eral caused, on the lGtii of August, 1072,
Cornelius De Witte to be arrested; and
the noble brother of John De Witte had,
like the vilest crimnal, to undergo, in one
of the apartments of the town prison, the
preparatory degrees of torture, by means
of whicii his judges expected to force from
him the confession or his alleged plot
against William of Orange.
But Cornelius was not only possessed
of a great mind, but also of a great heart.
He belonged to that race of martyrs who,
indiseolubly wedded to their political con
viction, as their ancestors were to their
faith, arc able to smile on pain: while
being stretched on the rack, he recited,
with a firm voice, and scanning the lines
according to measure, the first strophe of
"Justum ac tenacem'' of Horace; and,
making no confession, tired, not only the
etrength.but even the fanaticism of his
executioners.
The Judges, notwithstanding, acquitted
Tyckelaer from every charge; at the same
time sentencing Cornelius to be deposed
from all his offices and dignities; to pay
all the costs of the trial; and to be ban
ished the soil of the republic forever.
This judgment agiinsi not only an in
nocent, but also a great man, was indeed
some gratification to the passions of the
people, to whoic interest" Cornelius Dc
iyj(te h!Vi alT;1y, devoted hi-rnelf: but,
as wc 6hall soon sec, it was not enough.
The Athenian', who, indeed, have left
behind them a pretty tolerable reputation
for ingratitude, have in this respect to
yield precedence to the Dutch. Their, at
least, in the case of Aristides, contented
themselves witii banishing him .
John De Wittc, at the first 'ntimation
of the charge brought against his brother,
had resigned his office of Grand Pension-1
ary. He, too, received a noble recom
pense for his devotedncss to the best in
terests of his country, taking with him
into the retirement of private life, thejha
tred of a host of enemies, and the fresh
scars of wounds inflicted by assassins, on
ly too often the sole guerdon obtained by
honest people, who are guilty of having
worked for their country, and of having
forgotten their own private interests.
In the meanwhile, William, of Orange,
urged on the course of events by every
means in his power, eagerly waiting for
the time when the people, by whom he
was idolized, should have made of the
bodies of the brothers the two steps, over
which he might ascend to the chair of
Stadtholder.
Wcll.then, on the 20th of August, 1G72,
as we have already stated in the begin
ning of this chapter, the whole town was
crowding towards the Buitenholf, to wit
ness the departure of Cornelius De Witte
from prison, as he was going to exile;
and to see what traces the torture of the
rack had left on the noble frame of the
man who knew his Horace so well.
Yet all this multitude was not crowd
ing to the Buitenholf with the innocent
view of merely feasting their eyes with
the spectacle: there were many who went
there to play an active part in it, and to
take upon themselves an office which they
conceived had been badly liiled that of
the executioner.
There were, indeed, others with less
hostile intentions. All that they cared
for was the spectacle, always so attrac
tive to the mob, whose instinctive pride
is flattered by it: the sight of greatness
hurled down into the dust.
"Has not," they would say, "this Cor
nelius De Witte been locked up, and
broken by the rack? Shall we not see
him pale, streaming with blood, covered
with shame?'' And wa3 not this a sweet
triumph for the burghers of the Hague,
whose envy even beat that of thecommon
rabble; a triumph, In which every honest
citizen and townsman might be expected
to share.
"Moreover,'' hinted the Orange agitators
interspersed through the crowd, whom
they hoped to manage like a sharp
edged, and, at the same time, crushing
instrument, "moreover, will not, from
the Builcnhof to the gate of the town, a
nice little opportunity present itself to
throw some handful? of dirt, or a few
stones, at this Cornelius Do Witle, who
not only conferred the dignity of Stadt
holder on the Prince of Orange merely
Ii Coaetus, but who also intended to have
him assassinated?"
"Besides which," the fierce enemies of
France chimed in, "if the work were done
well and bravely at the Hague, Cornelius
would certainly not be allowed to go into
exile, where he will Tenew his intrigues
with France, and live with his big scoun
drel of abrother, John, on the gold of the
Marquis de Louvois."
Being in such a temper, people gener
ally will run rather than walk; which
was the reason why the inhabitants of the
Hague were hurrying so fast towards the
Buitcnhof.
II oncst Tyckelaer, with a heart full of
spite and malice, and with no particular
plan settled in his mind, was one of the
foremost, being paraded about by the
Orange party like a hero of probity, na
tional honor, and Christian charity.
This darling miscreant detailed, with
all the embellishments and flourishes
suggested by his base mind and his ruf
fianly imagination, the attempts which
he pretended Cornelius De Witte had
made to corrupt him; the sums of money
which were promiecd: and all the dia
bolical stratagems planned beforehand to
smooth for him, Tyckelaer, all the diffi
culties in the path of murder.
And-every phrase of his speech, eager
ly listened to by the populace, called forth
enthusiastic cheers for the Prince of
Orange, and groans and imprecations of
blind fury against the brothers De
Witte.
The mob even began to vent its rage by
inveighing against the iniquitous judges,
who had allowed such a detestable crimi
nal as the villain Cornelius to get oil so
cheaply.
Some of the agitators whispered: "He
will be off, he will escape from us!" oth
ers replied:
"A vessel is waiting for him at Schc
vening, a French craft. Tyckelaer has
seen her."
"Honest Tyckelaer! Hurrah for
Tyckelaer !' the mob cried in a chorus.
"And let ns not forget," a voice ex
claimed from the crowd, "that at the
same time with Cornelius, his brother
John, who is as rascally a traitor as him-,
self,. will likewise make his escape."
"And the two rogues will in Franc'c
make merry with our money, with the
money for our vessels, our arsenal?, and
cir doikyanl?, whisk they have pold to
Louis XIV."
"Well then don't let us allow them to
depart!" advised one of the patriots who
had gained the start of the others.
"Forward to the prison, to the prison!"
echoed the crowd.
Among these cries, the citizen? ran
along faster and faster, cocking their mus
ket.', brandishing their hatchets, and
looking death and defiance in all direc
tion". Xo violence, however, had as yet been
committed, and the file of horsemen who
were guarding the approaches of the Bu
itcnhof remained cool, unmovel, silent,
much more threatening inthcir impassi
bility, than all this crowd of burghers,
with their cries, their agi'etion, and theirj:
threats. The men on their fiorscs.indeed,
stood like so many statues, under the eye
of their chief. Count Tilly, the captain of
the mounted troops of tlie Hague, who
had his sword drawn, but held it with its
point downwards, in a line with the straps
of his stirrup.
This troop, the only defence of the pris
on, overawpd by its firm attitude not only
the disorderly riotous mass of the popu
lace, but also the detachment of the
burgher guard which, being placed oppo
site the Buitcnhof to support the soldiers
in keeping order, gave to the rioters the
example of seditious cries, shouting,
"Hurrah for Orange ! Down with the
traitors !"
The presence of Tilly and his horsemen,
indeed, exercised a salutary check on
these civic warriors; but, by degrees, they
waxed more and more angry by their own
shouts, and as they were not able -to un
derstand how any one could have courage
without showing it by cries, they attrib
uted the silence of the dragoons to pusil
lanimity, and advanced one step towards
the prison, with all the turbulent mob fol
lowing in their wake.
In this moment. Count Tilly rode forth
towards them single-handed, merely lift
ing his sword and contracting his brow
whilst he addressed them:
"Well, gentlemen of the burgher guard,
what are you advancing for, and what do
yon wish ?"
The burghers shook their muskets, re
peating their cry:
"Hurrah for Orange! Death to the
traitors I"
"'Hurrah for Orange!' all well and
good ! " rep'ied Tilly, "although I cer
tainly am more partial to happy faces,
than to gloomy ones. 'Death to the trai
tors,' ns much of it as you like, as long as
yon show your wishes only by cries. But,
as to putting them to death in good
earnest, I am here to prevent that, and I
shall prevent it."
Then, turning round to his men, he
gave tiic word of command:
"Soldiers, ready 1"
The troopers obeyed orders with a pre
cision which immediately caused the
burgher-guard and the people to fall
back, in a degree of confusion which ex
cited the smile of the cavalry officer.
"Halloa!" he exclaimed, with that
bantering tone which is peculiar to men
of his profession: "be easy, gentlemen,
my souldicrs will not fire a shot; but, on
the other hand you will net advance by
one step towards the prison."
"And do you know, sir, that wc 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
wc on our side have pistols, that the pis
tol carries admirably to a distance of fif
ty yard', and that you are only twenty
five from us."
"Death to the traitors!" cried the ex
asperated burghers.
"Go along with you," growled the offi
cer; "you always cry the same thing over
again. It is very tiresome."
With this, he took his post at the head
of his troops, whilstthe tumultgrew fiercer
and fiercer about the Buitcnhof.
And yet, the fuming crowd did not know,
that at the 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 gronp3 of people
and the dragoons, to betake himself to the
Buitcnhof.
John Dc Wittc, indeed, had alighted
from hi coach with a 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 von
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 admit
ted him into the building, the doors of
which were imediately closed again.
Ten yards further on, John Dc Wittc
met a lovely young girl, of about seven
teen or eighteen, dressed in the uational
costume of the Frisian women, who, with
pretty demurcness, dropped a courtesy to
him. Chucking her under the chin, he
said to her:
"Good morning my good and fair Rosa;'
how is my brother?"
"Gh! Mynheer John, sir," the young
girl replied, "I am not afraid of the harm
which has been done to htm. That's all
over now.''
"But what is it that you are afraid of?"
"I am afraid of the harm which they
ere going to do to him."
"Oh ! yen," said De Witte, "you mean
to spertk 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, per
haps they will grow calmer, as we have
never done thenvnnything but good."
"That's unfortunately no .reason, ex
cept for the centrrtry," muttered the girl,
as on an imperative sign from her father
she withdrew.
"Indeed, cliild, what you say is only
top true."
Then in parsing his way he said to
himself:
"Here is a damsel who very likely does
not know how to read, who, consequent
ly, has never read anything; and yet
with one word, she has just told the
whole history of the world."
And with the same calm' mienr, but
more melancholy than he had been on
entering the prison, the Grand Pensiona
ry proceeded toward the cell o'f his
brother.
CHAPTER II.
TIIC TWO BROTHERS.
As the fiirRosa, with foreboding doubt,
had foretold, so it happened. Whilst
John D. Wittc 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 landible intentions
of his own beloved militia, shouted most
lustily,
"Hurrah for the burghers!" .
As to Count Tilly, who was 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 townsman, 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 Orangeists.
"Stop," replied the Count; "there you
at once ask me more than I can tell you.
I was told: 'Guard the prison,' and I
guard it You, gentlemen, who are al
most military men yourselves, you arc
aware that an order must novor be gain
saved." "But this order has been given to yon
that the traitors may be enabled to leave
the town."
"Very possible, as the traitors arc con
demned to exile," replied Tilly.
"But who has given this ordc?"
"The States, by George!".
"The States are traitors."
"I don't know anything about that."
"And you are a traitor yourself!"
"If"
"Yes, yon."
"Well, as 19 that, let U3 understand
each other, gentlemen. Whom should I
betray? The Slates? Why, I cannot be
tray them, whilst, being in their pay, I
faithfully obey their orders."
As the Count was so indisputably in
the right, that it was impossible to argue
against him, the mob answered only by
redoubled clamor and horrible threats, to
which the Count opposed the mot per
fect urbanity.
"Gentlemen," he said, "uncock your
muskets; one of them may go o(T by ac
cident, and if the shot chanced to wound
any of my men, wc should knock over a
couple of hundreds of yours, for which
wc should, indeed, be very sorry, but you
even more so; especially as such a thing
is neither contemplated by you, nor by
myself."
If you did that," cried the burghers,
"wc should have a pop at yon too."
"Of course you would, but suppose you
killed every man Jack of us, those whom
wc should have killed, would not, for all
that,bc less dead.1'
"Then leave the place to ns, and you
will perform the part of a good citizen."
"First of all," said the Count, "I am
not a citizen, but an officer, which is a
very ditlerent thing; and secondly, I am
not a Hollander, but a Frenchman, which
is more different still. I have to do with
no one but the States, by whom I am
paid; let me see an order from them
to leave the place to you, and I Rhall
only be too glad to wheel off in an in
stant, as I am confoundedly bored here."
"Yes, yes!" cried a hundred voices;
the din of which was immediately swelled
by five hundred others: "let ns march to
the Town-hall; let us go and see the dep
uties! Come along! come along !"
"That's it,"' Tilly muttered between his
teeth, as he saw the most violent among
the crowd turning away; "go and ask for
a meanness in the Town-hall, and you
will see whether they will grant it: go,
my fine fellows, go'"
The worthy officer relied on the honor
of the magistrates, who, on their side, re
lied on his honor as a soldier.
"I say. Captain!" the first lieutenant
whispered into the car of the Count, "I
hope the deputies will give these madmen
a flat refusal; but, after all, it would do
no'harm if they would send us come re
inforcement." In the meanwhile1, Joh'i De Wiltr,
whom w'c left climbing the stairs, after
his conversation with the jailer Gryphus
and his daughter Rosa, had reached the"
door of the cell, where, cti a mattress, his"
brother Cornelius wai'rea'linjr, after hav
ing undergone the preparatory" degrees or
the torture. The sentence ofba'nishinent
having been pronounced, tH'tre was no
occasion for inflicting the torture extra
ordinary. Cornelius was stretched on his conch',
with broken wrists and crushed fingers.
He had notconfessed a crime of which
he was not guilty; and now, after three
days of agony, he once more breathed
freely, on being informed that the judges,
from whom he had expected death, were
only condemning him to exile.
Endowed witli an iron frame and a
stout heart, how would he have disap"
pointed his enemies, if they could only
have seen, in the dark cell of the Buitcn
hof, his pale face lit up by the smile of
the martyr, who forgets the dross of this
earth afier having obtained a glimpse of
the bright glory of heaven.
The warden, indeed, had already re
covered hia full strength, much more ow
ing to the force of his own strong will
than to actual aid; and he was calcula
ting how long the formalities of the law
would still detain him in prison.
This was just at the very moment when
the mingled shouts of the burgher-guard
and of the mob were raging against the
two brothers, and threatening Captain
Tilly, who served as a rampart to them.
This noise, which roared outside the walls
of the prison, as the surf dashing against
the rocks, ne'vf reached the ears of the
prisoner.
But threatening as it sounded, Corne
lius appeared not to deem it worth his
while to inquire after its cause; nor did
he get up to look out of the narrow gratc3
window, which gave access to the light
and noise of the world without.
He was so absorbed in hia never-ceasing
pain, that it had almost become a
habit with him. He felt with such de
lights the bonds, which connected his im
mortal being with his perishable frame,
gradually looscninz, that it seemed to him
as if his spirit, freed from the trammels
of the body, were hovering above if, like
the expiring flame which rises from the
half-extinguished embers.
He also thought of his brother; and
whilst the latter was thus vividly present
to his mind, the door opened, and John
entered, hurrying to the bedside of the
prisoner, who stretched out his broken
limbs and his hands, tied up in banda
ges, towards that glorious brother, whom
he now exceeded, not in services rendered
to the country, but in the hatred which
the Dutch bore him.
John tenderly kissed his brother on the
forehead, and put his sore hands gently
back on the mattress.
"Cornelius, my poor brother, you are
suffering great pain, arc you not?"
"I am suffering no longer, since I see
you, my brother."
"Oh! my poor dear Cornelius, I feel
most wretched to see you in such a
state."
"And, indeed, I have thought more of
you than of myself; and whilst they were
torturing me, I never thought of uttering
a complaint, except once, to say, 'Poor
brother!' But now that you are here,
let us forget all. iou arc coming to
take me away, arc you not?"
"I am."
"I am quite healed; help mc to get
up, and you shall see how well I can
walk."
"You will not have to walk far, as I
have my coach near the pond, behind
Tilly's dragoons."
Tilly's dragoons! What arc they near
the pond for?"
"Well," said the Grand Pensionary,
with a melancholy smile, which was ha
bitual to him, "the gentleman at the
Town-hall expect that the people of the
Hague would like to sec you depart, and
there is some apprehension- of a tumult.
"Of a tumult?" replied Cornelius, fix
ing his eyes on his perplexed brother; "a
tumult?"
"Yes, Cornclins."
"Oh ! that's what I heard just now,"
said the prisoner as if speaking to him'
self. Then turning to' bis brother, , he
continued:
"Arc there many persons down before
the prison?"
"Yes, my brother, there arc."
"But then, to come here to me "
"Well?"
"How is it that they have allowed you
to pass?"
"You well know that we were not very
popular, Cornelius," said the Grand Pen
sionary, with gloomy bitterness. "I have
made my way through all sorts of by
streets and alleys."
"You hid yourself, John?"
"I wished to reach you without Iosb of
time, and I did what people will do in
politics, or on the sea when the wind is
against them I tacked."
In this moment the noise in the square
below was heard to roar with increasing
fury. Tilly was parleying with the bur
ghers.
well, well, said Cornelius, "you are
a very skillful pilot John, but I doubt
whether you will aa Eaftly guide your
brother out of the Buittnhofi.i the Midst
of this" gale, and through the r'agi'ffg surf
of popular ha'tred, ns you did the etl of
Van Tromp past' the shoals of wis" Scheldt
ta Antwerp."
'With the help' of God, Corneliw.
w'e'll at least try," answered Jchrlj- "but.
first cf all, a word" with you:"
"Speak 1"
The slioutsbegsn anew.
"Hark, hark!" continued Corneliiie.
how angrv tCoae people are. Is it
against you? or against me?'
"I should say it ze against us" both.
Corn'elics. I told 7W, rib dear brother.
that the Orange party, whilst assailing im"
with their absurd calumnies, hart also
made it a reproach against iSf that we
have negotiated' with Francel"
"What blc'cfcheatti they are'."
"But, indeed, they reproach" us witS
it."
"And yet, if these' negotiation's h'ait
been successful, they would have fire
vented the defeats" of Rees", O'rsay, Wcael,
and Rheiberg; the Rhine Wo'uld not have
been crossed, and If olfc'ra cght etill con.
sider herself invincible in the1 nridst of
her marshes and canals.''
'All this is quite true, nfy dear Cor
nelius, but still more certain it is, that if
in this moment our correspondence with
the Marquis de Louvois were discovered,'
skillful pilot as I am', I sh6uld not be
able to save the frail barq'rfc which is tr
carry the brothers De Witte and their
fortunes out of Holland. Tffttt corres
pondence, which mis-lit 6'rofe to' hon
est people how dearly I fove 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 parly. 1 hope yon have burned
the letters before you left Dort to join me'
at the Hague."
"My dear brother," Cornelius answered,'
"your correspondence with Mr. de Lotf-
vois affords ample proof of your having-
been of late the greatest, most generous,"
and most able citizen of the seven United
Provinces, I doat on the glory of my
country; and particularly do I doat on?
your glory, John I have faSen good1
caie not to burn that correspondence.'
"Then we are lost, as far as this life is'
concerned," quietly said the Grand Pen
sionary, a'pproaching the window.
"Xo, on the contrary, John', we shall
at the same time save our Jives, and re
gain out popularity."
"But what trave you" done with' these
letters?"
"i have entrusted thenr to the cate of
Cornelius Van Baerle, my godson, whom
yon know, and lives in Dort.'
"Poor honest Van Baerle f Who' Kn'6wsT
so much and thinks of nothing but AWe'sT
and God, who' made them'. You ha'V6
entrusted him with this" fatal s'ecferV ts
will be his rnin poor sotfl 1"
"His ruin r
"Yes, for he will either be sfr6ng Or hi'
will be weak. If he is strong; he wiff.
when he hears" of What has happened to
us, boast of our acquaintance; if he i
weak, he will be afraid on account Of lr&
connection vihU us: if he is strong he will
betray the secret of bis boldness'; if he ii
weak he will allow it to' be forced front
him.- In either case he is lost, and so are;
we. Let us, therefore, fly, fly, as" long as
it is-still time.'
Cornelius De Witte, 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 god:oh7 hfrve not
I been able to read every thought hr Van
Baerle'! mind, and every a'entimerit fn his
heart? You ask whether he is" strong or
weak. He is neither the 6'ne nor fhf oth
er; but that is not now the question-. The
principal point is, that he is sure not to
divulge the secret, for the very good rea
son that be does not know it himself."
John turned round in surprise.
"Yon must know, my dear brother
that I hare been trained in the school of
that distinguished politician John Da
Witte; and I repeat to you, that Van
Baerle is not aware of the nature and im
portance of the deposit which I have en
trusted to bim."
"Quick, then," cried- John, "as itia
still time, let ns 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 assistryou doWh stairs."
"Consider Well before having those
precious documents burnt, Jobnl"
"I consider, above all things, that the
brothers Dc Wittc mustncccssarially save
their lives, to be able to save their char
acter. If we are dead, who will defend
us? Who will have fully understood our
intentions?"
"Yon expect, then, that they would
kill u, if those papers are found?"'
JoIid, without answering, pointed with
his hand to the square, from whence, in
that very moment, fierce shouts and. sav
age yells made themselves heard.
"Yea, yes," said Cornelius, "I hear
these shouts very plainly, but wharis
their meaning?"
John opened the window.
"Death to the traitors!" howled tbs
populace.
"Do you hear no, Cornelius?"
Coatinutd oa fourth pije.