Чорний тюльпан
An Invasion
Butinvaindidhesearchthewholeroom,openandshutallthedrawers,eventhatprivilegedonewheretheparcelwhichhadbeensofataltoCorneliushadbeendeposited;hefoundticketed,asinabotanicalgarden,the“Jane,”the“JohndeWitt,”thehazel-nut,andtheroasted-coffeecolouredtulip;butoftheblacktulip,orrathertheseedlingbulbswithinwhichitwasstillsleeping,notatracewasfound.
Andyet,onlookingovertheregisterofseedsandbulbs,whichVanBaerlekeptinduplicate,ifpossibleevenwithgreaterexactitudeandcarethanthefirstcommercialhousesofAmsterdamtheirledgers,Boxtelreadtheselines:—
“To-day,20thofAugust,1672,Ihavetakenupthemotherbulbofthegrandblacktulip,whichIhavedividedintothreeperfectsuckers.”
“Ohthesebulbs,thesebulbs!”howledBoxtel,turningovereverythinginthedry-room,“wherecouldhehaveconcealedthem?”
Then,suddenlystrikinghisforeheadinhisfrenzy,hecalledout,“OhwretchthatIam!OhthricefoolBoxtel!Wouldanyonebeseparatedfromhisbulbs?WouldanyoneleavethematDort,whenonegoestotheHague?Couldonelivefarfromone’sbulbs,whentheyenclosethegrandblacktulip?Hehadtimetogetholdofthem,thescoundrel,hehasthemabouthim,hehastakenthemtotheHague!”
ItwaslikeaflashoflightningwhichshowedtoBoxteltheabyssofauselesslycommittedcrime.
Boxtelsankquiteparalyzedonthatverytable,andonthatveryspotwhere,somehoursbefore,theunfortunateVanBaerlehadsoleisurely,andwithsuchintensedelight,contemplatedhisdarlingbulbs
