Чорний тюльпан
The Murderers
“Mybrother!”criedJohndeWitt,tryingtoseethroughthestreamofbloodwhichblindedhim,whathadbecomeofCornelius;“mybrother,mybrother!”
“Goandrunafterhim!”bellowedanothermurderer,puttinghismuskettohistemplesandpullingthetrigger.
Butthegundidnotgooff.
Thefellowthenturnedhismusketround,and,takingitbythebarrelwithbothhands,struckJohndeWittdownwiththebutt-end.Johnstaggeredandfelldownathisfeet,but,raisinghimselfwithalasteffort,heoncemorecalledout,—
“Mybrother!”withavoicesofullofanguishthattheyoungmanoppositeclosedtheshutter.
Thereremainedlittlemoretosee;athirdmurdererfiredapistolwiththemuzzletohisface;andthistimetheshottookeffect,blowingouthisbrains.JohndeWittfelltorisenomore.
Onthis,everyoneofthemiscreants,emboldenedbyhisfall,wantedtofirehisgunathim,orstrikehimwithblowsofthesledge-hammer,orstabhimwithaknifeorswords,everyonewantedtodrawadropofbloodfromthefallenhero,andtearoffashredfromhisgarments.
Andafterhavingmangled,andtorn,andcompletelystrippedthetwobrothers,themobdraggedtheirnakedandbloodybodiestoanextemporisedgibbet,whereamateurexecutionershungthemupbythefeet.
Thencamethemostdastardlyscoundrelsofall,whonothavingdaredtostrikethelivingflesh,cutthedeadinpieces,andthenwentaboutthetownsellingsmallslicesofthebodiesofJohnandCorneliusattensousapiece.
