Черный тюльпан
The Murderers
“Whatisthematter?”askedJohn,puttinghisheadoutofthecoachwindow.
“Oh,mymasters!”criedthecoachman,“itis——”
Terrorchokedthevoiceofthehonestfellow.
“Well,saywhatyouhavetosay!”urgedtheGrandPensionary.
“Thegateisclosed,that’swhatitis.”
“Howisthis?Itisnotusualtoclosethegatebyday.”
“Justlook!”
JohndeWittleanedoutofthewindow,andindeedsawthatthemanwasright.
“Nevermind,butdriveon,”saidJohn,“Ihavewithmetheorderforthecommutationofthepunishment,thegate-keeperwillletusthrough.”
Thecarriagemovedalong,butitwasevidentthatthedriverwasnolongerurginghishorseswiththesamedegreeofconfidence.
Moreover,asJohndeWittputhisheadoutofthecarriagewindow,hewasseenandrecognizedbyabrewer,who,beingbehindhiscompanions,wasjustshuttinghisdoorinallhastetojointhemattheBuytenhof.Heutteredacryofsurprise,andranaftertwoothermenbeforehim,whomheovertookaboutahundredyardsfartheron,andtoldthemwhathehadseen.Thethreementhenstopped,lookingafterthecarriage,beinghowevernotyetquitesureastowhomitcontained.
ThecarriageinthemeanwhilearrivedattheTol-Hek.
“Open!”criedthecoachman.
“Open!”echoedthegatekeeper,fromthethresholdofhislodge;“it’sallverywelltosay‘Open!’butwhatamItodoitwith?”
“Withthekey,tobesure!”saidthecoachman.
“Withthekey!Oh,yes!butifyouhavenotgotit?”
“Howisthat?Havenotyougotthekey?”askedthecoachman.
“No,Ihaven’t.
