Чорний тюльпан
The Pupil of John de Witt
”
“Weshallsee,”hisHighnessreplied,withthemostperfectcoolness;“Godaloneknowswhatisgoingonwithintheheartsofmen.”
Theofficerlookedaskanceattheimpassiblefigureofhiscompanion,andgrewpale:hewasanhonestmanaswellasabraveone.
Fromthespotwheretheystood,hisHighnessandhisattendantheardthetumultandtheheavytrampofthecrowdonthestaircaseoftheTown-hall.Thenoisethereuponsoundedthroughthewindowsofthehall,onthebalconyofwhichMynheersBoweltandD’Asperenhadpresentedthemselves.Thesetwogentlemenhadretiredintothebuilding,verylikelyfromfearofbeingforcedoverthebalustradebythepressureofthecrowd.
Afterthis,fluctuatingshadowsintumultuousconfusionwereseenflittingtoandfroacrossthewindows:thecouncilhallwasfilling.
Suddenlythenoisesubsided,andassuddenlyagainitrosewithredoubledintensity,andatlastreachedsuchapitchthattheoldbuildingshooktotheveryroof.
Atlength,thelivingstreampouredbackthroughthegalleriesandstairstothearchedgateway,fromwhichitwasseenissuinglikewatersfromaspout.
Attheheadofthefirstgroup,manwasflyingratherthanrunning,hisfacehideouslydistortedwithsatanicglee:thismanwasthesurgeonTyckelaer.
“Wehaveit!wehaveit!”hecried,brandishingapaperintheair.
“Theyhavegottheorder!”mutteredtheofficerinamazement.
“Well,then,”hisHighnessquietlyremarked,“nowIknowwhattobelievewithregardtoMynheerBowelt’shonestyandcourage:hehasneithertheonenortheother.
