cheers.
Chapter 32
A Last Request
At this
solemn moment, and
whilst the cheers still
resounded, a
carriage was driving along the road on the
outskirts of the green on which the scene occurred; it
pursued its way slowly, on
account of the flocks of children
who were pushed out of the avenue by the crowd of men and
women.
This
carriage, covered with dust, and creaking on its axles,
the result of a long journey, enclosed the
unfortunate Van
Baerle, who was just
beginning to get a
glimpse through the
open window of the scene which we have tried -- with poor
success, no doubt -- to present to the eyes of the reader.
The crowd and the noise and the display of
artificial and
natural
magnificence were as dazzling to the prisoner as a
ray of light flashing suddenly into his dungeon.
Notwithstanding the little
readiness which his
companion had
shown in answering his questions
concerning his fate, he
ventured once more to ask the meaning of all this bustle,
which at first sight seemed to be utterly disconnected with
his own affairs.
"What is all this, pray, Mynheer Lieutenant?" he asked of
his conductor.
"As you may see, sir," replied the officer, "it is a feast."
"Ah, a feast," said Cornelius, in the sad tone of
indifference of a man to whom no joy remains in this world.
Then, after some moments, silence, during which the
carriagehad proceeded a few yards, he asked once more, --
"The feast of the
patron saint of Haarlem? as I see so many
flowers."
"It is, indeed, a feast in which flowers play a principal
part."
"Oh, the sweet scents! oh, the beautiful colours!" cried
Cornelius.
"Stop, that the gentleman may see," said the officer, with
that frank kindliness which is
peculiar to military men, to
the soldier who was
acting as postilion.
"Oh, thank you, Sir, for your kindness," replied Van Baerle,
in a
melancholy tone; "the joy of others pains me; please
spare me this pang."
"Just as you wish. Drive on! I ordered the driver to stop
because I thought it would please you, as you are said to
love flowers, and especially that the feast of which is
celebrated to-day."
"And what flower is that?"
"The tulip."
"The tulip!" cried Van Baerle, "is to-day the feast of
tulips?"
"Yes, sir; but as this
spectacle displeases you, let us
drive on."
The officer was about to give the order to proceed, but
Cornelius stopped him, a
painful thought having struck him.
He asked, with faltering voice, --
"Is the prize given to-day, sir?"
"Yes, the prize for the black tulip."
Cornelius's cheek flushed, his whole frame trembled, and the
cold sweat stood on his brow.
"Alas! sir," he said, "all these good people will be as
unfortunate as myself, for they will not see the
solemnity
which they have come to
witness, or at least they will see
it incompletely."
"What is it you mean to say?"
"I mean to say." replied Cornelius, throwing himself back in
the
carriage, "that the black tulip will not be found,
except by one whom I know."
"In this case," said the officer, "the person whom you know
has found it, for the thing which the whole of Haarlem is
looking at at this moment is neither more nor less than the
black tulip."
"The black tulip!" replied Van Baerle, thrusting half his