Чорний тюльпан
An Invasion
But,whetherfromafeelingofshameorfromcravenweakness,IsaacBoxteldidnotventurethatdaytopointhistelescopeeitheratthegarden,oratthelaboratory,oratthedry-room.
Heknewtoowellwhatwasabouttohappeninthehouseofthepoordoctortofeelanydesiretolookintoit.Hedidnotevengetupwhenhisonlyservant—whoenviedthelotoftheservantsofCorneliusjustasbitterlyasBoxteldidthatoftheirmaster—enteredhisbedroom.Hesaidtotheman,—
“Ishallnotgetupto-day,Iamill.”
Aboutnineo’clockheheardagreatnoiseinthestreetwhichmadehimtremble,atthismomenthewaspalerthanarealinvalid,andshookmoreviolentlythanamanintheheightoffever.
Hisservantenteredtheroom;Boxtelhidhimselfunderthecounterpane.
“Oh,sir!”criedtheservant,notwithoutsomeinklingthat,whilstdeploringthemishapwhichhadbefallenVanBaerle,hewasannouncingagreeablenewstohismaster,—“oh,sir!youdonotknow,then,whatishappeningatthismoment?”
“HowcanIknowit?”answeredBoxtel,withanalmostunintelligiblevoice.
“Well,MynheerBoxtel,atthismomentyourneighbourCorneliusvanBaerleisarrestedforhightreason.”
“Nonsense!”Boxtelmuttered,withafalteringvoice;“thethingisimpossible.”
“Faith,sir,atanyratethat’swhatpeoplesay;and,besides,IhaveseenJudgevanSpennenwiththearchersenteringthehouse.”
“Well,ifyouhaveseenitwithyourowneyes,that’sadifferentcasealtogether.”
“Atallevents,”saidtheservant,“Ishallgoandinquireoncemore.
