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Updated: June 9, 2025
"There is no music, sir," said the gaoler; "but your worship doubtless hears the creaking of the gallows." But no sooner had the gaoler's feet touched the fairy ring, than he saw and heard like the rest, and he called lustily to the chaplain to come and stop the unhallowed measure.
By great good fortune Althea encountered with Harry and the seaman Ned Giles at the very gate of the prison, and she soon bought leave to visit the prisoner called William Dewsbury, who lay under lock and key in a very filthy cell, and had latterly been denied even bread and water, because his money being spent he could not satisfy his gaoler's demands.
The gaoler's wife sent him tea, and the turnkey's daughter begged him to write his name in her album, where a many gentlemen had written it on like occasions! "Bother your album!" says Bulbo. The Undertaker came and measured him for the handsomest coffin which money could buy: even this didn't console Bulbo.
But rogue as I am, still I may be your friend, and that perhaps when you least expect it. We were now prevented from further conversation, by the arrival of the gaoler's servants, who came to call over the prisoners names, and lock up for the night.
Toad sat up on end once more, dried his eyes, sipped his tea and munched his toast, and soon began talking freely about himself, and the house he lived in, and his doings there, and how important he was, and what a lot his friends thought of him. The gaoler's daughter saw that the topic was doing him as much good as the tea, as indeed it was, and encouraged him to go on.
The rough gaoler's good-humoured chatter was particularly distasteful to the poor man. To be snubbed and railed at would have pointed to a long life to come, one not to be measured by hours. Did he know? And was he silent out of pity? or was it malice?
They had many interesting talks together, after that, as the dreary days went on; and the gaoler's daughter grew very sorry for Toad, and thought it a great shame that a poor little animal should be locked up in prison for what seemed to her a very trivial offence.
They could hear voices outside, with occasional exclamations of surprise, and now and then a peal of laughter. At length the door was unlocked, and the gaoler's man came in with four trenchers, piled on each other, on each of which was laid a slice of rye-bread and a piece of cheese. He served out one to each prisoner. "Want your appetites sharpened?" said he with a sarcastic laugh.
Calmly, without stirring, Casanova told him that he did not know what he was talking about, but that, if he had procured tools, it could only have been from Laurent himself, who alone had entrance to the cell. Such a reply did not soften the gaoler's anger, and for some time Casanova was very badly treated.
A feature of "The Black Tulip" is that in it is the bulb, and not a human being, that is the real centre of interest. The fate of the bulb is made of first importance, and the fortunes of Cornelius van Baerle, the tulip fancier, of Boxtel, and of Rosa, the gaoler's daughter, exciting though they are, take second place. I. Mob Vengeance
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