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Page 76
But Gryphus, obstinate, like an old man, and more and more
convinced that he was discovering here a conspiracy against
the Prince of Orange, rushed up to his prisoner, raising his
stick; seeing, however, the impassible resolution of the
captive to protect his flower-pot he was convinced that
Cornelius trembled much less for his head than for his jug.
He therefore tried to wrest it from him by force.
"Halloa!" said the jailer, furious, "here, you see, you are
rebelling."
"Leave me my tulip," cried Van Baerle.
"Ah, yes, tulip," replied the old man, "we know well the
shifts of prisoners."
"But I vow to you ---- "
"Let go," repeated Gryphus, stamping his foot, "let go, or I
shall call the guard."
"Call whoever you like, but you shall not have this flower
except with my life."
Gryphus, exasperated, plunged his finger a second time into
the soil, and now he drew out the bulb, which certainly
looked quite black; and whilst Van Baerle, quite happy to
have saved the vessel, did not suspect that the adversary
had possessed himself of its precious contents, Gryphus
hurled the softened bulb with all his force on the flags,
where almost immediately after it was crushed to atoms under
his heavy shoe.
Van Baerle saw the work of destruction, got a glimpse of the
juicy remains of his darling bulb, and, guessing the cause
of the ferocious joy of Gryphus, uttered a cry of agony,
which would have melted the heart even of that ruthless
jailer who some years before killed Pelisson's spider.
The idea of striking down this spiteful bully passed like
lightning through the brain of the tulip-fancier. The blood
rushed to his brow, and seemed like fire in his eyes, which
blinded him, and he raised in his two hands the heavy jug
with all the now useless earth which remained in it. One
instant more, and he would have flung it on the bald head of
old Gryphus.
But a cry stopped him; a cry of agony, uttered by poor Rosa,
who, trembling and pale, with her arms raised to heaven,
made her appearance behind the grated window, and thus
interposed between her father and her friend.
Gryphus then understood the danger with which he had been
threatened, and he broke out in a volley of the most
terrible abuse.
"Indeed," said Cornelius to him, "you must be a very mean
and spiteful fellow to rob a poor prisoner of his only
consolation, a tulip bulb."
"For shame, my father," Rosa chimed in, "it is indeed a
crime you have committed here."
"Ah, is that you, my little chatter-box?" the old man cried,
boiling with rage and turning towards her; "don't you meddle
with what don't concern you, but go down as quickly as
possible."
"Unfortunate me," continued Cornelius, overwhelmed with
grief.
"After all, it is but a tulip," Gryphus resumed, as he began
to be a little ashamed of himself. "You may have as many
tulips as you like: I have three hundred of them in my
loft."
"To the devil with your tulips!" cried Cornelius; "you are
worthy of each other: had I a hundred thousand millions of
them, I would gladly give them for the one which you have
just destroyed."
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