The incident just related was, as the reader has guessedbefore this, the diabolical1 work of Mynheer Isaac Boxtel.
It will be remembered that, with the help of his telescope,not even the least detail of the private meeting betweenCornelius de Witt and Van Baerle had escaped him. He had,indeed, heard nothing, but he had seen everything, and hadrightly concluded that the papers intrusted by the Warden2 tothe Doctor must have been of great importance, as he saw VanBaerle so carefully secreting3 the parcel in the drawer wherehe used to keep his most precious bulbs.
The upshot of all this was that when Boxtel, who watched thecourse of political events much more attentively4 than hisneighbour Cornelius was used to do, heard the news of thebrothers De Witt being arrested on a charge of high treasonagainst the States, he thought within his heart that verylikely he needed only to say one word, and the godson wouldbe arrested as well as the godfather.
Yet, full of happiness as was Boxtel's heart at the chance,he at first shrank with horror from the idea of informingagainst a man whom this information might lead to thescaffold.
But there is this terrible thing in evil thoughts, that evilminds soon grow familiar with them.
Besides this, Mynheer Isaac Boxtel encouraged himself withthe following sophism5: --"Cornelius de Witt is a bad citizen, as he is charged withhigh treason, and arrested.
"I, on the contrary, am a good citizen, as I am not chargedwith anything in the world, as I am as free as the air ofheaven.""If, therefore, Cornelius de Witt is a bad citizen, -- ofwhich there can be no doubt, as he is charged with hightreason, and arrested, -- his accomplice6, Cornelius vanBaerle, is no less a bad citizen than himself.
"And, as I am a good citizen, and as it is the duty of everygood citizen to inform against the bad ones, it is my dutyto inform against Cornelius van Baerle."Specious7 as this mode of reasoning might sound, it would notperhaps have taken so complete a hold of Boxtel, nor wouldhe perhaps have yielded to the mere8 desire of vengeancewhich was gnawing10 at his heart, had not the demon11 of envybeen joined with that of cupidity12.
Boxtel was quite aware of the progress which Van Baerle hadmade towards producing the grand black tulip.
Dr. Cornelius, notwithstanding all his modesty13, had not beenable to hide from his most intimate friends that he was allbut certain to win, in the year of grace 1673, the prize ofa hundred thousand guilders offered by the HorticulturalSociety of Haarlem.
It was just this certainty of Cornelius van Baerle thatcaused the fever which raged in the heart of Isaac Boxtel.
If Cornelius should be arrested there would necessarily be agreat upset in his house, and during the night after hisarrest no one would think of keeping watch over the tulipsin his garden.
Now in that night Boxtel would climb over the wall and, ashe knew the position of the bulb which was to produce thegrand black tulip, he would filch14 it; and instead offlowering for Cornelius, it would flower for him, Isaac; healso, instead of Van Baerle, would have the prize of ahundred thousand guilders, not to speak of the sublimehonour of calling the new flower Tulipa nigra Boxtellensis,-- a result which would satisfy not only his vengeance9, butalso his cupidity and his ambition.
Awake, he thought of nothing but the grand black tulip;asleep, he dreamed of it.
At last, on the 19th of August, about two o'clock in theafternoon, the temptation grew so strong, that Mynheer Isaacwas no longer able to resist it.
Accordingly, he wrote an anonymous15 information, the minuteexactness of which made up for its want of authenticity16, andposted his letter.
Never did a venomous paper, slipped into the jaws17 of thebronze lions at Venice, produce a more prompt and terribleeffect.
On the same evening the letter reached the principalmagistrate, who without a moment's delay convoked18 hiscolleagues early for the next morning. On the followingmorning, therefore, they assembled, and decided19 on VanBaerle's arrest, placing the order for its execution in thehands of Master van Spennen, who, as we have seen, performedhis duty like a true Hollander, and who arrested the Doctorat the very hour when the Orange party at the Hague wereroasting the bleeding shreds20 of flesh torn from the corpsesof Cornelius and John de Witt.
But, whether from a feeling of shame or from cravenweakness, Isaac Boxtel did not venture that day to point histelescope either at the garden, or at the laboratory, or atthe dry-room.
He knew too well what was about to happen in the house ofthe poor doctor to feel any desire to look into it. He didnot even get up when his only servant -- who envied the lotof the servants of Cornelius just as bitterly as Boxtel didthat of their master -- entered his bedroom. He said to theman, --"I shall not get up to-day, I am ill."About nine o'clock he heard a great noise in the streetwhich made him tremble, at this moment he was paler than areal invalid21, and shook more violently than a man in theheight of fever.
His servant entered the room; Boxtel hid himself under thecounterpane.
"Oh, sir!" cried the servant, not without some inkling that,whilst deploring22 the mishap23 which had befallen Van Baerle,he was announcing agreeable news to his master, -- "oh, sir!
you do not know, then, what is happening at this moment?""How can I know it?" answered Boxtel, with an almostunintelligible voice.
"Well, Mynheer Boxtel, at this moment your neighbourCornelius van Baerle is arrested for high treason.""Nonsense!" Boxtel muttered, with a faltering24 voice; "thething is impossible.""Faith, sir, at any rate that's what people say; and,besides, I have seen Judge van Spennen with the archersentering the house.""Well, if you have seen it with your own eyes, that's adifferent case altogether.""At all events," said the servant, "I shall go and inquireonce more. Be you quiet, sir, I shall let you know all aboutit."Boxtel contented25 himself with signifying his approval of thezeal of his servant by dumb show.
The man went out, and returned in half an hour.
"Oh, sir, all that I told you is indeed quite true.""How so?""Mynheer van Baerle is arrested, and has been put into acarriage, and they are driving him to the Hague.""To the Hague!""Yes, to the Hague, and if what people say is true, it won'tdo him much good.""And what do they say?" Boxtel asked.
"Faith, sir, they say -- but it is not quite sure -- that bythis hour the burghers must be murdering Mynheer Corneliusand Mynheer John de Witt.""Oh," muttered, or rather growled26 Boxtel, closing his eyesfrom the dreadful picture which presented itself to hisimagination.
"Why, to be sure," said the servant to himself, whilstleaving the room, "Mynheer Isaac Boxtel must be very sicknot to have jumped from his bed on hearing such good news."And, in reality, Isaac Boxtel was very sick, like a man whohas murdered another.
But he had murdered his man with a double object; the firstwas attained27, the second was still to be attained.
Night closed in. It was the night which Boxtel had lookedforward to.
As soon as it was dark he got up.
He then climbed into his sycamore.
He had calculated correctly; no one thought of keeping watchover the garden; the house and the servants were all in theutmost confusion.
He heard the clock strike -- ten, eleven, twelve.
At midnight, with a beating heart, trembling hands, and alivid countenance28, he descended29 from the tree, took aladder, leaned it against the wall, mounted it to the laststep but one, and listened.
All was perfectly30 quiet, not a sound broke the silence ofthe night; one solitary31 light, that of the housekeeper32, wasburning in the house.
This silence and this darkness emboldened33 Boxtel; he gotastride the wall, stopped for an instant, and, after havingascertained that there was nothing to fear, he put hisladder from his own garden into that of Cornelius, anddescended.
Then, knowing to an inch where the bulbs which were toproduce the black tulip were planted, he ran towards thespot, following, however, the gravelled walks in order notto be betrayed by his footprints, and, on arriving at theprecise spot, he proceeded, with the eagerness of a tiger,to plunge34 his hand into the soft ground.
He found nothing, and thought he was mistaken.
In the meanwhile, the cold sweat stood on his brow.
He felt about close by it, -- nothing.
He felt about on the right, and on the left, -- nothing.
He felt about in front and at the back, -- nothing.
He was nearly mad, when at last he satisfied himself that onthat very morning the earth had been disturbed.
In fact, whilst Boxtel was lying in bed, Cornelius had gonedown to his garden, had taken up the mother bulb, and, as wehave seen, divided it into three.
Boxtel could not bring himself to leave the place. He dug upwith his hands more than ten square feet of ground.
At last no doubt remained of his misfortune. Mad with rage,he returned to his ladder, mounted the wall, drew up theladder, flung it into his own garden, and jumped after it.
All at once, a last ray of hope presented itself to hismind: the seedling35 bulbs might be in the dry-room; it wastherefore only requisite36 to make his entry there as he haddone into the garden.
There he would find them, and, moreover, it was not at alldifficult, as the sashes of the dry-room might be raisedlike those of a greenhouse. Cornelius had opened them onthat morning, and no one had thought of closing them again.
Everything, therefore, depended upon whether he couldprocure a ladder of sufficient length, -- one of twenty-fivefeet instead of ten.
Boxtel had noticed in the street where he lived a housewhich was being repaired, and against which a very tallladder was placed.
This ladder would do admirably, unless the workmen had takenit away.
He ran to the house: the ladder was there. Boxtel took it,carried it with great exertion37 to his garden, and with evengreater difficulty raised it against the wall of VanBaerle's house, where it just reached to the window.
Boxtel put a lighted dark lantern into his pocket, mountedthe ladder, and slipped into the dry-room.
On reaching this sanctuary38 of the florist39 he stopped,supporting himself against the table; his legs failed him,his heart beat as if it would choke him. Here it was evenworse than in the garden; there Boxtel was only atrespasser, here he was a thief.
However, he took courage again: he had not gone so far toturn back with empty hands.
But in vain did he search the whole room, open and shut allthe drawers, even that privileged one where the parcel whichhad been so fatal to Cornelius had been deposited; he foundticketed, as in a botanical garden, the "Jane," the "John deWitt," the hazel-nut, and the roasted-coffee coloured tulip;but of the black tulip, or rather the seedling bulbs withinwhich it was still sleeping, not a trace was found.
And yet, on looking over the register of seeds and bulbs,which Van Baerle kept in duplicate, if possible even withgreater exactitude and care than the first commercial housesof Amsterdam their ledgers40, Boxtel read these lines: --"To-day, 20th of August, 1672, I have taken up the motherbulb of the grand black tulip, which I have divided intothree perfect suckers.""Oh these bulbs, these bulbs!" howled Boxtel, turning overeverything in the dry-room, "where could he have concealedthem?"Then, suddenly striking his forehead in his frenzy41, hecalled out, "Oh wretch42 that I am! Oh thrice fool Boxtel!
Would any one be separated from his bulbs? Would any oneleave them at Dort, when one goes to the Hague? Could onelive far from one's bulbs, when they enclose the grand blacktulip? He had time to get hold of them, the scoundrel, hehas them about him, he has taken them to the Hague!"It was like a flash of lightning which showed to Boxtel theabyss of a uselessly committed crime.
Boxtel sank quite paralyzed on that very table, and on thatvery spot where, some hours before, the unfortunate VanBaerle had so leisurely43, and with such intense delight,contemplated his darling bulbs.
"Well, then, after all," said the envious44 Boxtel, -- raisinghis livid face from his hands in which it had been buried --"if he has them, he can keep them only as long as he lives,and ---- "The rest of this detestable thought was expressed by ahideous smile.
"The bulbs are at the Hague," he said, "therefore, I can nolonger live at Dort: away, then, for them, to the Hague! tothe Hague!"And Boxtel, without taking any notice of the treasures abouthim, so entirely45 were his thoughts absorbed by anotherinestimable treasure, let himself out by the window, glideddown the ladder, carried it back to the place whence he hadtaken it, and, like a beast of prey46, returned growling47 tohis house.
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diabolical
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| adj.恶魔似的，凶暴的 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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secreting
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| v.（尤指动物或植物器官）分泌( secrete的现在分词 )；隐匿，隐藏 | |
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attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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sophism
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| n.诡辩 | |
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accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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cupidity
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| n.贪心，贪财 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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filch
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| v.偷窃 | |
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anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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authenticity
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| n.真实性 | |
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jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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convoked
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| v.召集，召开（会议）( convoke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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deploring
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的现在分词 ) | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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33
emboldened
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| v.鼓励，使有胆量( embolden的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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plunge
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| v.跳入，(使)投入，(使)陷入；猛冲 | |
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seedling
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| n.秧苗，树苗 | |
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requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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florist
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| n.花商；种花者 | |
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ledgers
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| n.分类账( ledger的名词复数 ) | |
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41
frenzy
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| n.疯狂，狂热，极度的激动 | |
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42
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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43
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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46
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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growling
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| n.吠声, 咆哮声 v.怒吠, 咆哮, 吼 | |
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