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- Александр Дюма
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- Черный тюльпан
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- Стр. 79/292
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Boxtel
put
a
lighted
dark
lantern
into
his
pocket
,
mounted
the
ladder
,
and
slipped
into
the
dry-room
.
On
reaching
this
sanctuary
of
the
florist
he
stopped
,
supporting
himself
against
the
table
;
his
legs
failed
him
,
his
heart
beat
as
if
it
would
choke
him
.
Here
it
was
even
worse
than
in
the
garden
;
there
Boxtel
was
only
a
trespasser
,
here
he
was
a
thief
.
However
,
he
took
courage
again
:
he
had
not
gone
so
far
to
turn
back
with
empty
hands
.
But
in
vain
did
he
search
the
whole
room
,
open
and
shut
all
the
drawers
,
even
that
privileged
one
where
the
parcel
which
had
been
so
fatal
to
Cornelius
had
been
deposited
;
he
found
ticketed
,
as
in
a
botanical
garden
,
the
"
Jane
,
"
the
"
John
de
Witt
,
"
the
hazel-nut
,
and
the
roasted-coffee
coloured
tulip
;
but
of
the
black
tulip
,
or
rather
the
seedling
bulbs
within
which
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
with
greater
exactitude
and
care
than
the
first
commercial
houses
of
Amsterdam
their
ledgers
,
Boxtel
read
these
lines
:
--
"
To-day
,
20th
of
August
,
1672
,
I
have
taken
up
the
mother
bulb
of
the
grand
black
tulip
,
which
I
have
divided
into
three
perfect
suckers
.
"
"
Oh
these
bulbs
,
these
bulbs
!
"
howled
Boxtel
,
turning
over
everything
in
the
dry-room
,
"
where
could
he
have
concealed
them
?
"
Then
,
suddenly
striking
his
forehead
in
his
frenzy
,
he
called
out
,
"
Oh
wretch
that
I
am
!
Oh
thrice
fool
Boxtel
!
Would
any
one
be
separated
from
his
bulbs
?
Would
any
one
leave
them
at
Dort
,
when
one
goes
to
the
Hague
?
Could
one
live
far
from
one
's
bulbs
,
when
they
enclose
the
grand
black
tulip
?
He
had
time
to
get
hold
of
them
,
the
scoundrel
,
he
has
them
about
him
,
he
has
taken
them
to
the
Hague
!
"
It
was
like
a
flash
of
lightning
which
showed
to
Boxtel
the
abyss
of
a
uselessly
committed
crime
.
Boxtel
sank
quite
paralyzed
on
that
very
table
,
and
on
that
very
spot
where
,
some
hours
before
,
the
unfortunate
Van
Baerle
had
so
leisurely
,
and
with
such
intense
delight
,
contemplated
his
darling
bulbs
