Van Systens stamped his foot with impatience; it was the second time that Rosa interrupted him in the midst of a composition which stimulated his vanity, both as a burgomaster and as President of the Horticultural Society. “But my report!” he cried,--“my report on the black tulip!” “Mynheer van Systens,” Rosa continued, with the firmness of innocence and truth, “your report on the black tulip will, if you don’t hear me, be based on crime or on falsehood. I implore you, sir, let this Master Boxtel, whom I assert to be Master Jacob, be brought here before you and me, and I swear that I will leave him in undisturbed possession of the tulip if I do not recognise the flower and its holder.” “Well, I declare, here is a proposal,” said Van Systens. “What do you mean?” “I ask you what can be proved by your recognising them?” “After all,” said Rosa, in her despair, “you are an honest man, sir; how would you feel if one day you found out that you had given the prize to a man for something which he not only had not produced, but which he had even stolen?” Rosa’s speech seemed to have brought a certain conviction into the heart of Van Systens, and he was going to answer her in a gentler tone, when at once a great noise was heard in the street, and loud cheers shook the house. “What is this?” cried the burgomaster; “what is this? Is it possible? have I heard aright?” And he rushed towards his anteroom, without any longer heeding Rosa, whom he left in his cabinet. Scarcely had he reached his anteroom when he cried out aloud on seeing his staircase invaded, up to the very landing-place, by the multitude, which was accompanying, or rather following, a young man, simply clad in a violet-coloured velvet, embroidered with silver; who, with a certain aristocratic slowness, ascended the white stone steps of the house. In his wake followed two officers, one of the navy, and the other of the cavalry. Van Systens, having found his way through the frightened domestics, began to bow, almost to prostrate himself before his visitor, who had been the cause of all this stir. “Monseigneur,” he called out, “Monseigneur! What distinguished honour is your Highness bestowing for ever on my humble house by your visit?” “Dear Mynheer van Systens,” said William of Orange, with a serenity which, with him, took the place of a smile, “I am a true Hollander, I am fond of the water, of beer, and of flowers, sometimes even of that cheese the flavour of which seems so grateful to the French; the flower which I prefer to all others is, of course, the tulip. I heard at Leyden that the city of Haarlem at last possessed the black tulip; and, after having satisfied myself of the truth of news which seemed so incredible, I have come to know all about it from the President of the Horticultural Society.” “Oh, Monseigneur, Monseigneur!” said Van Systens, “what glory to the society if its endeavours are pleasing to your Highness!”