William handed the third bulb to Van Systens, took the paper, and read. No sooner had he looked at it than he began to stagger; his hand trembled, and very nearly let the paper fall to the ground; and the expression of pain and compassion in his features was really frightful to see. It was that fly-leaf, taken from the Bible, which Cornelius de Witt had sent to Dort by Craeke, the servant of his brother John, to request Van Baerle to burn the correspondence of the Grand Pensionary with the Marquis de Louvois. This request, as the reader may remember, was couched in the following terms:-- “My Dear Godson,-- “Burn the parcel which I have intrusted to you. Burn it without looking at it, and without opening it, so that its contents may for ever remain unknown to yourself. Secrets of this description are death to those with whom they are deposited. Burn it, and you will have saved John and Cornelius de Witt. “Farewell, and love me. “Cornelius de Witt. “August 20, 1672.” This slip of paper offered the proofs both of Van Baerle’s innocence and of his claim to the property of the tulip. Rosa and the Stadtholder exchanged one look only. That of Rosa was meant to express, “Here, you see yourself.” That of the Stadtholder signified, “Be quiet, and wait.” The Prince wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, and slowly folded up the paper, whilst his thoughts were wandering in that labyrinth without a goal and without a guide, which is called remorse and shame for the past. Soon, however, raising his head with an effort, he said, in his usual voice,-- “Go, Mr. Boxtel; justice shall be done, I promise you.” Then, turning to the President, he added,-- “You, my dear Mynheer van Systens, take charge of this young woman and of the tulip. Good-bye.” All bowed, and the Prince left, among the deafening cheers of the crowd outside. Boxtel returned to his inn, rather puzzled and uneasy, tormented by misgivings about that paper which William had received from the hand of Rosa, and which his Highness had read, folded up, and so carefully put in his pocket. What was the meaning of all this? Rosa went up to the tulip, tenderly kissed its leaves and, with a heart full of happiness and confidence in the ways of God, broke out in the words,-- “Thou knowest best for what end Thou madest my good Cornelius teach me to read.” Chapter 28. The Hymn of the Flowers Whilst the events we have described in our last chapter were taking place, the unfortunate Van Baerle, forgotten in his cell in the fortress of Loewestein, suffered at the hands of Gryphus all that a prisoner can suffer when his jailer has formed the determination of playing the part of hangman. Gryphus, not having received any tidings of Rosa or of Jacob, persuaded himself that all that had happened was the devil’s work, and that Dr. Cornelius van Baerle had been sent on earth by Satan.