the
whole truth with regard to his own tastes, habits, and daily life. He
described his indifference to politics, his love of study, of the fine
arts, of science, and of flowers. He explained that, since the day when
Cornelius de Witt handed to him the parcel at Dort, he himself had never
touched, nor even noticed it.

To this it was objected, that in this respect he could not possibly be
speaking the truth, since the papers had been deposited in a press in
which both his hands and his eyes must have been engaged every day.

Cornelius answered that it was indeed so; that, however, he never put
his hand into the press but to ascertain whether his bulbs were dry,
and that he never looked into it but to see if they were beginning to
sprout.

To this again it was objected, that his pretended indifference
respecting this deposit was not to be reasonably entertained, as he
could not have received such papers from the hand of his godfather
without being made acquainted with their important character.

He replied that his godfather Cornelius loved him too well, and, above
all, that he was too considerate a man to have communicated to him
anything of the contents of the parcel, well knowing that such a
confidence would only have caused anxiety to him who received it.

To this it was objected that, if De Witt had wished to act in such
a way, he would have added to the parcel, in case of accidents, a
certificate setting forth that his godson was an entire stranger to the
nature of this correspondence, or at least he would during his
trial have written a letter to him, which might be produced as his
justification.

Cornelius replied that undoubtedly his godfather could not have thought
that there was any risk for the safety of his deposit, hidden as it
was in a press which was looked upon as sacred as the tabernacle by the
whole household of Van Baerle; and that consequently he had considered
the certificate as useless. As to a letter, he certainly had some
remembrance that some moments previous to his arrest, whilst he was
absorbed in the contemplation of one of the rarest of his bulbs, John de
Witt's servant entered his dry-room, and handed to him a paper, but the
whole was to him only like a vague dream; the servant had disappeared,
and as to the paper, perhaps it might be found if a proper search were
made.

As far as Craeke was concerned, it was impossible to find him, as he had
left Holland.

The paper also was no