|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 121
He also would have wished to write to the Hague to be
beforehand with Gryphus, who, he had no doubt, would by
denouncing him do his best to bring new storms on his head.
But how should he write? Gryphus had taken the paper and
pencil from him, and even if he had both, he could hardly
expect Gryphus to despatch his letter.
Then Cornelius revolved in his mind all those stratagems
resorted to by unfortunate prisoners.
He had thought of an attempt to escape, a thing which never
entered his head whilst he could see Rosa every day; but the
more he thought of it, the more clearly he saw the
impracticability of such an attempt. He was one of those
choice spirits who abhor everything that is common, and who
often lose a good chance through not taking the way of the
vulgar, that high road of mediocrity which leads to
everything.
"How is it possible," said Cornelius to himself, "that I
should escape from Loewestein, as Grotius has done the same
thing before me? Has not every precaution been taken since?
Are not the windows barred? Are not the doors of double and
even of treble strength, and the sentinels ten times more
watchful? And have not I, besides all this, an Argus so much
the more dangerous as he has the keen eyes of hatred?
Finally, is there not one fact which takes away all my
spirit, I mean Rosa's absence? But suppose I should waste
ten years of my life in making a file to file off my bars,
or in braiding cords to let myself down from the window, or
in sticking wings on my shoulders to fly, like Daedalus? But
luck is against me now. The file would get dull, the rope
would break, or my wings would melt in the sun; I should
surely kill myself, I should be picked up maimed and
crippled; I should be labelled, and put on exhibition in the
museum at the Hague between the blood-stained doublet of
William the Taciturn and the female walrus captured at
Stavesen, and the only result of my enterprise will have
been to procure me a place among the curiosities of Holland.
"But no; and it is much better so. Some fine day Gryphus
will commit some atrocity. I am losing my patience, since I
have lost the joy and company of Rosa, and especially since
I have lost my tulip. Undoubtedly, some day or other Gryphus
will attack me in a manner painful to my self-respect, or to
my love, or even threaten my personal safety. I don't know
how it is, but since my imprisonment I feel a strange and
almost irresistible pugnacity. Well, I shall get at the
throat of that old villain, and strangle him."
Cornelius at these words stopped for a moment, biting his
lips and staring out before him; then, eagerly returning to
an idea which seemed to possess a strange fascination for
him, he continued, --
"Well, and once having strangled him, why should I not take
his keys from him, why not go down the stairs as if I had
done the most virtuous action, why not go and fetch Rosa
from her room, why not tell her all, and jump from her
window into the Waal? I am expert enough as a swimmer to
save both of us. Rosa, -- but, oh Heaven, Gryphus is her
father! Whatever may be her affection for me, she will never
approve of my having strangled her father, brutal and
malicious as he has been.
"I shall have to enter into an argument with her; and in the
midst of my speech some wretched turnkey who has found
Gryphus with the death-rattle in his throat, or perhaps
actually dead, will come along and put his hand on my
shoulder. Then I shall see the Buytenhof again, and the
gleam of that infernal sword, -- which will not stop
half-way a second time, but will make acquaintance with the
nape of my neck.
"It will not do, Cornelius, my fine fellow, -- it is a bad
plan. But, then, what is to become of me, and how shall I
find Rosa again?"
Such were the cogitations of Cornelius three days after the
sad scene of separation from Rosa, at the moment when we
find him standing at the window.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|