Чорний тюльпан
The Murderers
Onlylook,look!”
“Indeed,itisCornelius,andnomistake.”
Theofficerutteredafeeblecry,andturnedhisheadaway;thebrotheroftheGrandPensionary,beforehavingsetfootontheground,whilststillonthebottomstepofthecarriage,wasstruckdownwithanironbarwhichbrokehisskull.Heroseoncemore,butimmediatelyfellagain.
Somefellowsthenseizedhimbythefeet,anddraggedhimintothecrowd,intothemiddleofwhichonemighthavefollowedhisbloodytrack,andhewassoonclosedinamongthesavageyellsofmalignantexultation.
Theyoungman—athingwhichwouldhavebeenthoughtimpossible—grewevenpalerthanbefore,andhiseyeswereforamomentveiledbehindthelids.
Theofficersawthissignofcompassion,and,wishingtoavailhimselfofthissoftenedtoneofhisfeelings,continued,—
“Come,come,Monseigneur,forheretheyarealsogoingtomurdertheGrandPensionary.”
Buttheyoungmanhadalreadyopenedhiseyesagain.
“Tobesure,”hesaid.“Thesepeoplearereallyimplacable.Itdoesnoonegoodtooffendthem.”
“Monseigneur,”saidtheofficer,“maynotonesavethispoorman,whohasbeenyourHighness’sinstructor?Iftherebeanymeans,nameit,andifIshouldperishintheattempt——”
WilliamofOrange—forheitwas—knithisbrowsinaveryforbiddingmanner,restrainedtheglanceofgloomymalicewhichglistenedinhishalf-closedeye,andanswered,—
“CaptainVanDeken,Irequestyoutogoandlookaftermytroops,thattheymaybearmedforanyemergency.
