were to allow some occasional rays
of the sun to enter, by opening one of the movable sashes of the glass
front.

On the evening of which we are speaking, after the two Corneliuses had
visited together all the apartments of the house, whilst a train of
domestics followed their steps, De Witt said in a low voice to Van
Baerle,--

"My dear son, send these people away, and let us be alone for some
minutes."

The younger Cornelius, bowing assent, said aloud,--

"Would you now, sir, please to see my dry-room?"

The dry-room, this pantheon, this sanctum sanctorum of the
tulip-fancier, was, as Delphi of old, interdicted to the profane
uninitiated.

Never had any of his servants been bold enough to set his foot there.
Cornelius admitted only the inoffensive broom of an old Frisian
housekeeper, who had been his nurse, and who from the time when he
had devoted himself to the culture of tulips ventured no longer to put
onions in his stews, for fear of pulling to pieces and mincing the idol
of her foster child.

At the mere mention of the dry-room, therefore, the servants who were
carrying the lights respectfully fell back. Cornelius, taking the
candlestick from the hands of the foremost, conducted his godfather into
that room, which was no other than that very cabinet with a glass front
into which Boxtel was continually prying with his telescope.

The envious spy was watching more intently than ever.

First of all he saw the walls and windows lit up.

Then two dark figures appeared.

One of them, tall, majestic, stern, sat down near the table on which Van
Baerle had placed the taper.

In this figure, Boxtel recognised the pale features of Cornelius de
Witt, whose long hair, parted in front, fell over his shoulders.

De Witt, after having said some few words to Cornelius, the meaning of
which the prying neighbour could not read in the movement of his lips,
took from his breast pocket a white parcel, carefully sealed, which
Boxtel, judging from the manner in which Cornelius received it, and
placed it in one of the presses, supposed to contain papers of the
greatest importance.

His first thought was that this precious deposit enclosed some newly
imported bulbs from Bengal or Ceylon; but he soon reflected that
Cornelius de Witt was very little addicted to tulip-growing, and that
he only occupied himself with the affairs of man, a pursuit by far less
peaceful and agreeable than that of the florist. He therefore came