Черный тюльпан
The Murderers
“Yes,heretheyare,thetraitors,themurderers,theassassins!”answeredthemenwhowererunningafterthecarriagetothepeoplewhowerecomingtomeetit.Theformercarriedintheirarmsthebruisedbodyofoneoftheircompanions,who,tryingtoseizethereinsofthehorses,hadbeentroddendownbythem.
Thiswastheobjectoverwhichthetwobrothershadfelttheircarriagepass.
Thecoachmanstopped,but,howeverstronglyhismasterurgedhim,herefusedtogetoffandsavehimself.
Inaninstantthecarriagewashemmedinbetweenthosewhofollowedandthosewhometit.Itroseabovethemassofmovingheadslikeafloatingisland.Butinanotherinstantitcametoadeadstop.Ablacksmithhadwithhishammerstruckdownoneofthehorses,whichfellinthetraces.
Atthismoment,theshutterofawindowopened,anddisclosedthesallowfaceandthedarkeyesoftheyoungman,whowithintenseinterestwatchedthescenewhichwaspreparing.Behindhimappearedtheheadoftheofficer,almostaspaleashimself.
“Goodheavens,Monseigneur,whatisgoingonthere?”whisperedtheofficer.
“Somethingveryterrible,toacertainty,”repliedtheother.
“Don’tyousee,Monseigneur,theyaredraggingtheGrandPensionaryfromthecarriage,theystrikehim,theytearhimtopieces!”
“Indeed,thesepeoplemustcertainlybepromptedbyamostviolentindignation,”saidtheyoungman,withthesameimpassibletonewhichhehadpreservedallalong.
“AndhereisCornelius,whomtheynowlikewisedragoutofthecarriage,—Cornelius,whoisalreadyquitebrokenandmangledbythetorture.
