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Page 126
A protocol of the violence practiced by the prisoner against
his jailer was immediately drawn up, and as it was made on
the depositions of Gryphus, it certainly could not be said
to be too tame; the prisoner being 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,
whose presence was no longer necessary after having made his
depositions, was taken down by his turnkeys to his lodge,
groaning and covered with bruises.
During this time, the guards who had seized Cornelius busied
themselves in charitably informing their prisoner of the
usages and customs of Loewestein, which however he knew as
well as they did. The regulations had been read to him at
the moment of his entering the prison, and certain articles
in them remained fixed in his memory.
Among other things they told him that this regulation had
been carried out to its full extent in the case of a
prisoner named Mathias, who in 1668, that is to say, five
years before, had committed a much less violent act of
rebellion than that of which Cornelius was guilty. He had
found 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 of having his skin come off as he
wiped his face.
Mathias was taken within twelve hours from his cell, then
led to the jailer's lodge, where he was registered as
leaving Loewestein, then taken to the Esplanade, from which
there is a very fine prospect over a wide expanse of
country. 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 the
guards of Loewestein, twelve in number, at a sign from a
sergeant, very cleverly lodged a musket-ball each in his
body.
In consequence of this proceeding, Mathias incontinently did
then and there die.
Cornelius listened with the greatest attention to this
delightful recital, and then said, --
"Ah! ah! within twelve hours, you say?"
"Yes, the twelfth hour had not even struck, if I remember
right," said the guard who had told him the story.
"Thank you," said Cornelius.
The guard still had the smile on his face with which he
accompanied and as it were accentuated his tale, when
footsteps and a jingling of spurs were heard ascending the
stair-case.
The guards fell back to allow an officer to pass, who
entered the cell of Cornelius at the moment when the clerk
of 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 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 the prisoner himself.
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