The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (ebook offline reader .txt) 📕

But when he recognised Rosa, whom in his own mind he had set down as mad, or even worse, he grew angry, and wanted to send her away.

Rosa, however, clasped her hands, and said with that tone of honest truth which generally finds its way to the hearts of men,—

“For Heaven’s sake, sir, do not turn me away; listen to what I have to tell you, and if it be not possible for you to do me justice, at least you will not one day have to reproach yourself before God for having made yourself the accomplice of a bad action.”

Van Systens stamped his foot with impatience; it was the second time that Rosa interrupted him in the midst of a composition which stimulated his vanity, both as a burgomaster and as President of the Horticultural Society.

“But my report!” he cried,—“my report on the black tulip!”

“Mynheer van Systens,” Rosa continued, with the firmness of innocence and truth, “your report on the black tulip will, if you don’t hear me, be based on crime or on falsehood. I implore you, sir, let this Master Boxtel, whom I assert to be Master Jacob, be brought here before you and me, and I swear that I will leave him in undisturbed possession of the tulip if I do not recognise the flower and its holder.”

“Well, I declare, here is a proposal,” said Van Systens.

“What do you mean?”

“I ask you what can be proved by your recognising them?”

“After all,” said Rosa, in her despair, “you are an honest man, sir; how would you feel if one day you found out that you had given the prize to a man for something which he not only had not produced, but which he had even stolen?”

Rosa’s speech seemed to have brought a certain conviction into the heart of Van Systens, and he was going to answer her in a gentler tone, when at once a great noise was heard in the street, and loud cheers shook the house.

“What is this?” cried the burgomaster; “what is this? Is it possible? have I heard aright?”

And he rushed towards his anteroom, without any longer heeding Rosa, whom he left in his cabinet.

Scarcely had he reached his anteroom when he cried out aloud on seeing his staircase invaded, up to the very landing-place, by the multitude, which was accompanying, or rather following, a young man, simply clad in a violet-coloured velvet, embroidered with silver; who, with a certain aristocratic slowness, ascended the white stone steps of the house.

In his wake followed two officers, one of the navy, and the other of the cavalry.

Van Systens, having found his way through the frightened domestics, began to bow, almost to prostrate himself before his visitor, who had been the cause of all this stir.

“Monseigneur,” he called out, “Monseigneur! What distinguished honour is your Highness bestowing for ever on my humble house by your visit?”

“Dear Mynheer van Systens,” said William of Orange, with a serenity which, with him, took the place of a smile, “I am a true Hollander, I am fond of the water, of beer, and of flowers, sometimes even of that cheese the flavour of which seems so grateful to the French; the flower which I prefer to all others is, of course, the tulip. I heard at Leyden that the city of Haarlem at last possessed the black tulip; and, after having satisfied myself of the truth of news which seemed so incredible, I have come to know all about it from the President of the Horticultural Society.”

“Oh, Monseigneur, Monseigneur!” said Van Systens, “what glory to the society if its endeavours are pleasing to your Highness!”

“Have you got the flower here?” said the Prince, who, very likely, already regretted having made such a long speech.

“I am sorry to say we have not.”

“And where is it?”

“With its owner.”

“Who is he?”

“An honest tulip-grower of Dort.”

“His name?”

“Boxtel.”

“His quarters?”

“At the White Swan; I shall send for him, and if in the meanwhile your Highness will do me the honour of stepping into my drawing-room, he will be sure—knowing that your Highness is here—to lose no time in bringing his tulip.”

“Very well, send for him.”

“Yes, your Highness, but——”

“What is it?”

“Oh, nothing of any consequence, Monseigneur.”

“Everything is of consequence, Mynheer van Systens.”

“Well, then, Monseigneur, if it must be said, a little difficulty has presented itself.”

“What difficulty?”

“This tulip has already been claimed by usurpers. It’s true that it is worth a hundred thousand guilders.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, Monseigneur, by usurpers, by forgers.”

“This is a crime, Mynheer van Systens.”

“So it is, your Highness.”

“And have you any proofs of their guilt?”

“No, Monseigneur, the guilty woman——”

“The guilty woman, Sir?”

“I ought to say, the woman who claims the tulip, Monseigneur, is here in the room close by.”

“And what do you think of her?”

“I think, Monseigneur, that the bait of a hundred thousand guilders may have tempted her.”

“And so she claims the tulip?”

“Yes Monseigneur.”

“And what proof does she offer?”

“I was just going to question her when your Highness came in.”

“Question her, Mynheer van Systens, question her. I am the first magistrate of the country; I will hear the case and administer justice.”

“I have found my King Solomon,” said Van Systens, bowing, and showing the way to the Prince.

His Highness was just going to walk ahead, but, suddenly recollecting himself he said—

“Go before me, and call me plain Mynheer.”

The two then entered the cabinet.

Rosa was still standing at the same place, leaning on the window, and looking