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Page 38
"All right! all right! my dear Craeke," said Cornelius,
stretching his arm under the table for the bulb; "your paper
shall be read, indeed it shall."
Then, examining the bulb which he held in the hollow of his
hand, he said: "Well, here is one of them uninjured. That
confounded Craeke! thus to rush into my dry-room; let us now
look after the other."
And without laying down the bulb which he already held,
Baerle went to the fireplace, knelt down and stirred with
the tip of his finger the ashes, which fortunately were
quite cold.
He at once felt the other bulb.
"Well, here it is," he said; and, looking at it with almost
fatherly affection, he exclaimed, "Uninjured as the first!"
At this very instant, and whilst Cornelius, still on his
knees, was examining his pets, the door of the dry-room was
so violently shaken, and opened in such a brusque manner,
that Cornelius felt rising in his cheeks and his ears the
glow of that evil counsellor which is called wrath.
"Now, what is it again," he demanded; "are people going mad
here?"
"Oh, sir! sir!" cried the servant, rushing into the dry-room
with a much paler face and with a much more frightened mien
than Craeke had shown.
"Well!" asked Cornelius, foreboding some mischief from the
double breach of the strict rule of his house.
"Oh, sir, fly! fly quick!" cried the servant.
"Fly! and what for?"
"Sir, the house is full of the guards of the States."
"What do they want?"
"They want you."
"What for?"
"To arrest you."
"Arrest me? arrest me, do you say?"
"Yes, sir, and they are headed by a magistrate."
"What's the meaning of all this?" said Van Baerle, grasping
in his hands the two bulbs, and directing his terrified
glance towards the staircase.
"They are coming up! they are coming up!" cried the servant.
"Oh, my dear child, my worthy master!" cried the old
housekeeper, who now likewise made her appearance in the
dry-room, "take your gold, your jewelry, and fly, fly!"
"But how shall I make my escape, nurse?" said Van Baerle.
"Jump out of the window."
"Twenty-five feet from the ground!"
"But you will fall on six feet of soft soil!"
"Yes, but I should fall on my tulips."
"Never mind, jump out."
Cornelius took the third bulb, approached the window and
opened it, but seeing what havoc he would necessarily cause
in his borders, and, more than this, what a height he would
have to jump, he called out, "Never!" and fell back a step.
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