第 26 页

"It will not do, Cornelius, my fine fellow, -- it is a badplan. But, then, what is to become of me, and how shall Ifind Rosa again?"

Such were the cogitations of Cornelius three days after thesad scene of separation from Rosa, at the moment when wefind him standing at the window.

And at that very moment Gryphus entered.

He held in his hand a huge stick, his eyes glistening withspiteful thoughts, a malignant smile played round his lips,and the whole of his carriage, and even all his movements,betokened bad and malicious intentions.

Cornelius heard him enter, and guessed that it was he, butdid not turn round, as he knew well that Rosa was not comingafter him.

There is nothing more galling to angry people than thecoolness of those on whom they wish to vent their spleen.

The expense being once incurred, one does not like to loseit; one's passion is roused, and one's blood boiling, so itwould be labour lost not to have at least a nice little row.

Gryphus, therefore, on seeing that Cornelius did not stir,tried to attract his attention by a loud --

"Umph, umph!"

Cornelius was humming between his teeth the "Hymn ofFlowers," -- a sad but very charming song, --

"We are the daughters of the secret fireOf the fire which runs through the veins of the earth;We are the daughters of Aurora and of the dew;We are the daughters of the air;We are the daughters of the water;But we are, above all, the daughters of heaven."

This song, the placid melancholy of which was stillheightened by its calm and sweet melody, exasperated Gryphus.

He struck his stick on the stone pavement of the cell,and called out, --

"Halloa! my warbling gentleman, don't you hear me?"

Cornelius turned round, merely saying, "Good morning," andthen began his song again: --

"Men defile us and kill us while loving us,We hang to the earth by a thread;This thread is our root, that is to say, our life,But we raise on high our arms towards heaven."

"Ah, you accursed sorcerer! you are making game of me, Ibelieve," roared Gryphus.

Cornelius continued: --

"For heaven is our home,Our true home, as from thence comes our soul,As thither our soul returns, --Our soul, that is to say, our perfume."

Gryphus went up to the prisoner and said, --

"But you don't see that I have taken means to get you under,and to force you to confess your crimes."

"Are you mad, my dear Master Gryphus?" asked Cornelius.

And, as he now for the first time observed the frenziedfeatures, the flashing eyes, and foaming mouth of the oldjailer, he said, --

"Bless the man, he is more than mad, he is furious."

Gryphus flourished his stick above his head, but Van Baerlemoved not, and remained standing with his arms akimbo.

"It seems your intention to threaten me, Master Gryphus."

"Yes, indeed, I threaten you," cried the jailer.

"And with what?"

"First of all, look at what I have in my hand."

"I think that's a stick," said Cornelius calmly, "but Idon't suppose you will threaten me with that."

"Oh, you don't suppose! why not?"

"Because any jailer who strikes a prisoner is liable to twopenalties, -- the first laid down in Article 9 of theregulations at Loewestein: --

"'Any jailer, inspector, or turnkey who lays hands upon anyprisoner of State will be dismissed.'"

"Yes, who lays hands," said Gryphus, mad with rage, "butthere is not a word about a stick in the regulation."

"And the second," continued Cornelius, "which is not writtenin the regulation, but which is to be found elsewhere: --

"'Whosoever takes up the stick will be thrashed by thestick.'"

Gryphus, growing more and more exasperated by the calm andsententious tone of Cornelius, brandished his cudgel, but atthe moment when he raised it Cornelius rushed at him,snatched it from his hands, and put it under his own arm.

Gryphus fairly bellowed with rage.

"Hush, hush, my good man," said Cornelius, "don't doanything to lose your place."

"Ah, you sorcerer! I'll pinch you worse," roared Gryphus.

"I wish you may."

"Don't you see my hand is empty?"

"Yes, I see it, and I am glad of it."

"You know that it is not generally so when I come upstairsin the morning."

"It's true, you generally bring me the worst soup, and themost miserable rations one can imagine. But that's not apunishment to me; I eat only bread, and the worse the breadis to your taste, the better it is to mine."

"How so?"

"Oh, it's a very simple thing."

"Well, tell it me," said Gryphus.

"Very willingly. I know that in giving me bad bread youthink you do me harm."

"Certainly; I don't give it you to please you, you brigand."

"Well, then, I, who am a sorcerer, as you know, change yourbad into excellent bread, which I relish more than the bestcake; and then I have the double pleasure of eatingsomething that gratifies my palate, and of doing somethingthat puts you in a rage.

Gryphus answered with a growl.

"Oh! you confess, then, that you are a sorcerer."

"Indeed, I am one. I don't say it before all the world,because they might burn me for it, but as we are alone, Idon't mind telling you."

"Well, well, well," answered Gryphus. "But if a sorcerer canchange black bread into white, won't he die of hunger if hehas no bread at all?"

"What's that?" said Cornelius.

"Consequently, I shall not bring you any bread at all, andwe shall see how it will be after eight days."

Cornelius grew pale.

"And," continued Gryphus, "we'll begin this very day. As youare such a clever sorcerer, why, you had better change thefurniture of your room into bread; as to myself, I shallpocket the eighteen sous which are paid to me for yourboard."

"But that's murder," cried Cornelius, carried away by thefirst impulse of the very natural terror with which thishorrible mode of death inspired him.

"Well," Gryphus went on, in his jeering way, "as you are asorcerer, you will live, notwithstanding."

Cornelius put on a smiling face again, and said, --

"Have you not seen me make the pigeons come here from Dort?"

"Well?" said Gryphus.

"Well, a pigeon is a very dainty morsel, and a man who eatsone every day would not starve, I think."

"And how about the fire?" said Gryphus.

"Fire! but you know that I'm in league with the devil. Doyou think the devil will leave me without fire? Why, fire ishis proper element."

"A man, however healthy his appetite may be, would not eat apigeon every day. Wagers have been laid to do so, and thosewho made them gave them up."

"Well, but when I am tired of pigeons, I shall make the fishof the Waal and of the Meuse come up to me."

Gryphus opened his large eyes, quite bewildered.

"I am rather fond of fish," continued Cornelius; "you neverlet me have any. Well, I shall turn your starving me toadvantage, and regale myself with fish."

Gryphus nearly fainted with anger and with fright, but hesoon rallied, and said, putting his hand in his pocket, --

"Well, as you force me to it," and with these words he drewforth a clasp-knife and opened it.

"Halloa! a knife?" said Cornelius, preparing to defendhimself with his stick.

Chapter 29

In which Van Baerle, before leaving Loewestein,settles Accounts with Gryphus

The two remained silent for some minutes, Gryphus on theoffensive, and Van Baerle on the defensive.

Then, as the situation might be prolonged to an indefinitelength, Cornelius, anxious to know something more of thecauses which had so fiercely exasperated his jailer, spokefirst by putting the question, --

"Well, what do you want, after all?"

"I'll tell you what I want," answered Gryphus; "I want you torestore to me my daughter Rosa."

"Your daughter?" cried Van Baerle.

"Yes, my daughter Rosa, whom you have taken from me by yourdevilish magic. Now, will you tell me where she is?"

And the attitude of Gryphus became more and morethreatening.

"Rosa is not at Loewestein?" cried Cornelius.

"You know well she is not. Once more, will you restore herto me?"

"I see," said Cornelius, "this is a trap you are laying forme."

"Now, for the last time, will you tell me where my daughteris?"

"Guess it, you rogue, if you don't know it."

"Only wait, only wait," growled Gryphus, white with rage,and with quivering lips, as his brain began to turn. "Ah,you will not tell me anything? Well, I'll unlock yourteeth!"

He advanced a step towards Cornelius, and said, showing himthe weapon which he held in his hands, --

"Do you see this knife? Well, I have killed more than fiftyblack cocks with it, and I vow I'll kill their master, thedevil, as well as them."

"But, you blockhead," said Cornelius, "will you really killme?"

"I shall open your heart to see in it the place where youhide my daughter."

Saying this, Gryphus in his frenzy rushed towards Cornelius,who had barely time to retreat behind his table to avoid thefirst thrust; but as Gryphus continued, with horrid threats,to brandish his huge knife, and as, although out of thereach of his weapon, yet, as long as it remained in themadman's hand, the ruffian might fling it at him, Corneliuslost no time, and availing himself of the stick, which heheld tight under his arm, dealt the jailer a vigorous blowon the wrist of that hand which held the knife.

The knife fell to the ground, and Cornelius put his foot onit.

Then, as Gryphus seemed bent upon engaging in a strugglewhich the pain in his wrist, and shame for having allowedhimself to be disarmed, would have made desperate, Corneliustook a decisive step, belaboring his jailer with the mostheroic self-possession, and selecting the exact spot forevery blow of the terrible cudgel.

It was not long before Gryphus begged for mercy. But beforebegging for mercy, he had lustily roared for help, and hiscries had roused all the functionaries of the prison. Twoturnkeys, an inspector, and three or four guards, made theirappearance all at once, and found Cornelius still using thestick, with the knife under his foot.

At the sight of these witnesses, who could not know all thecircumstances which had provoked and might justify hisoffence, Cornelius felt that he was irretrievably lost.

In fact, appearances were sadly against him.

In one moment Cornelius was disarmed, and Gryphus raised andsupported; and, bellowing with rage and pain, he was able tocount on his back and shoulders the bruises which werebeginning to swell like the hills dotting the slopes of amountain ridge.

A protocol of the violence practiced by the prisoner againsthis jailer was immediately drawn up, and as it was made onthe depositions of Gryphus, it certainly could not be saidto be too tame; the prisoner being charged with neither morenor less than with an attempt to murder, for a long timepremeditated, with open rebellion.

Whilst the charge was made out against Cornelius, Gryphus,whose presence was no longer necessary after having made hisdepositions, was taken down by his turnkeys to his lodge,groaning and covered with bruises.

During this time, the guards who had seized Cornelius busiedthemselves in charitably informing their prisoner of theusages and customs of Loewestein, which however he knew aswell as they did. The regulations had been read to him atthe moment of his entering the prison, and certain articlesin them remained fixed in his memory.

Among other things they told him that this regulation hadbeen carried out to its full extent in the case of aprisoner named Mathias, who in 1668, that is to say, fiveyears before, had committed a much less violent act ofrebellion than that of which Cornelius was guilty. He hadfound his soup too hot, and thrown it at the head of thechief turnkey, who in consequence of this ablution had beenput to the inconvenience of having his skin come off as hewiped his face.

Mathias was taken within twelve hours from his cell, thenled to the jailer's lodge, where he was registered asleaving Loewestein, then taken to the Esplanade, from whichthere is a very fine prospect over a wide expanse ofcountry. There they fettered his hands, bandaged his eyes,and let him say his prayers.

Hereupon he was invited to go down on his knees, and theguards of Loewestein, twelve in number, at a sign from asergeant, very cleverly lodged a musket-ball each in hisbody.

In consequence of this proceeding, Mathias incontinently didthen and there die.

Cornelius listened with the greatest attention to thisdelightful recital, and then said, --

"Ah! ah! within twelve hours, you say?"

"Yes, the twelfth hour had not even struck, if I rememberright," said the guard who had told him the story.

"Thank you," said Cornelius.

The guard still had the smile on his face with which heaccompanied and as it were accentuated his tale, whenfootsteps and a jingling of spurs were heard ascending thestair-case.

The guards fell back to allow an officer to pass, whoentered the cell of Cornelius at the moment when the clerkof Loewestein was still making out his report.

"Is this No. 11?" he asked.

"Yes, Captain," answered a non-commissioned officer.

"Then this is the cell of the prisoner Cornelius vanBaerle?"

"Exactly, Captain."

"Where is the prisoner?"

"Here I am, sir," answered Cornelius, growing rather pale,notwithstanding all his courage.

"You are Dr. Cornelius van Baerle?" asked he, this timeaddressing the prisoner himself.

"Yes, sir."

"Then follow me."

"Oh! oh!" said Cornelius, whose heart felt oppressed by thefirst dread of death. "What quick work they make here in thefortress of Loewestein. And the rascal talked to me oftwelve hours!"

"Ah! what did I tell you?" whispered the communicative guardin the ear of the culprit.