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Updated: June 7, 2025
This visit of the jailer, his brutal threats, and the gloomy prospect of the harshness with which, as he had before experienced, Gryphus watched his prisoners, all this was unable to extinguish in Cornelius the sweet thoughts, and especially the sweet hope, which the presence of Rosa had reawakened in his heart. He waited eagerly to hear the clock of the tower of Loewestein strike nine.
Then addressing himself to the officer, he said, "Is this person the mutinous prisoner who has attempted to kill his jailer at Loewestein?" Cornelius heaved a sigh and hung his head. His good-tempered honest face turned pale and red at the same instant.
"I'll tell you what I want," answered Gryphus; "I want you to restore to me my daughter Rosa." "Your daughter?" cried Van Baerle. "Yes, my daughter Rosa, whom you have taken from me by your devilish magic. Now, will you tell me where she is?" And the attitude of Gryphus became more and more threatening. "Rosa is not at Loewestein?" cried Cornelius. "You know well she is not.
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?"
As soon as it is open, I shall send a messenger to you, with the request that you will come and fetch it in person from the fortress at Loewestein. I am the daughter of the jailer, Gryphus, almost as much of a captive as the prisoners of my father. I cannot, therefore, bring to you this wonderful flower. This is the reason why I beg you to come and fetch it yourself.
This being just double their value, the man was very glad to close the bargain, and the nurse found herself in undisputed possession of the pigeons of her master's envious neighbour. In the course of their wanderings, these pigeons with others visited the Hague, Loewestein, and Rotterdam, seeking variety, doubtless, in the flavour of their wheat or hempseed.
Therefore, if the envious wretch had not left Dort to follow his rival to the Hague in the first place, and then to Gorcum or to Loewestein, for the two places are separated only by the confluence of the Waal and the Meuse, Van Baerle's letter would have fallen into his hands and not the nurse's: in which event the poor prisoner, like the raven of the Roman cobbler, would have thrown away his time, his trouble, and, instead of having to relate the series of exciting events which are about to flow from beneath our pen like the varied hues of a many coloured tapestry, we should have naught to describe but a weary waste of days, dull and melancholy and gloomy as night's dark mantle.
"I say that this damsel lies, your Highness." "You deny, therefore, having ever been at Loewestein?" Boxtel hesitated; the fixed and searching glance of the proud eye of the Prince prevented him from lying. "I cannot deny having been at Loewestein, your Highness, but I deny having stolen the tulip." "You have stolen it, and that from my room," cried Rosa, with indignation. "I deny it."
And at last he hired, just opposite Rosa's window, a little attic, distant enough not to allow him to be recognized with the naked eye, but sufficiently near to enable him, with the help of his telescope, to watch everything that was going on at the Loewestein in Rosa's room, just as at Dort he had watched the dry-room of Cornelius.
"The third, where is it?" "I have it at home," said Boxtel, quite confused. "At home? Where? At Loewestein, or at Dort?" "At Dort," said Boxtel. "You lie!" cried Rosa. "Monseigneur," she continued, whilst turning round to the Prince, "I will tell you the true story of these three bulbs.
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