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- Александр Дюма
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"
Come
along
,
come
along
,
father
.
"
"
But
our
prisoners
?
"
"
God
will
watch
over
them
,
and
I
shall
watch
over
you
.
"
Gryphus
followed
his
daughter
,
and
the
trap-door
closed
over
his
head
,
just
as
the
broken
gate
gave
admittance
to
the
populace
.
The
dungeon
where
Rosa
had
induced
her
father
to
hide
himself
,
and
where
for
the
present
we
must
leave
the
two
,
offered
to
them
a
perfectly
safe
retreat
,
being
known
only
to
those
in
power
,
who
used
to
place
there
important
prisoners
of
state
,
to
guard
against
a
rescue
or
a
revolt
.
The
people
rushed
into
the
prison
,
with
the
cry
--
"
Death
to
the
traitors
!
To
the
gallows
with
Cornelius
de
Witt
!
Death
!
death
!
"
The
young
man
with
his
hat
slouched
over
his
eyes
,
still
leaning
on
the
arm
of
the
officer
,
and
still
wiping
from
time
to
time
his
brow
with
his
handkerchief
,
was
watching
in
a
corner
of
the
Buytenhof
,
in
the
shade
of
the
overhanging
weather-board
of
a
closed
shop
,
the
doings
of
the
infuriated
mob
,
a
spectacle
which
seemed
to
draw
near
its
catastrophe
.
"
Indeed
,
"
said
he
to
the
officer
,
"
indeed
,
I
think
you
were
right
,
Van
Deken
;
the
order
which
the
deputies
have
signed
is
truly
the
death-warrant
of
Master
Cornelius
.
Do
you
hear
these
people
?
They
certainly
bear
a
sad
grudge
to
the
two
De
Witts
.
"
"
In
truth
,
"
replied
the
officer
,
"
I
never
heard
such
shouts
.
"
