Черный тюльпан
The Pupil of John de Witt
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“Anhonestman,”repeatedhewhowasaddressedasMonseigneur;“doyoumeantosaythatheisanhonestman(bravehomme),orabraveone(hommebrave)?”
“Ah,Monseigneurmustexcuseme;Iwouldnotpresumetodrawsuchafinedistinctioninthecaseofamanwhom,IassureyourHighnessoncemore,Iknowonlybysight.”
“IfthisBoweltisanhonestman,”hisHighnesscontinued,“hewillgivetothedemandofthesefuribundpetitionersaveryqueerreception.”
Thenervousquiverofhishand,whichmovedontheshoulderofhiscompanionasthefingersofaplayeronthekeysofaharpsichord,betrayedhisburningimpatience,soillconcealedatcertaintimes,andparticularlyatthatmoment,undertheicyandsombreexpressionofhisface.
ThechiefofthedeputationoftheburgherswasthenheardaddressinganinterpellationtoMynheerBowelt,whomherequestedtoletthemknowwheretheotherdeputies,hiscolleagues,were.
“Gentlemen,”Boweltrepeatedforthesecondtime,“IassureyouthatinthismomentIamherealonewithMynheerd’Asperen,andIcannottakeanyresolutiononmyownresponsibility.”
“Theorder!wewanttheorder!”criedseveralthousandvoices.
MynheerBoweltwishedtospeak,buthiswordswerenotheard,andhewasonlyseenmovinghisarmsinallsortsofgestures,whichplainlyshowedthathefelthispositiontobedesperate.When,atlast,hesawthathecouldnotmakehimselfheard,heturnedroundtowardstheopenwindow,andcalledMynheerd’Asperen.