oice was re-echoing through the spiral staircase.

Rosa, in her fright, made vain attempts to check this furious outbreak.

"I tell you that I shall kill that infamous Gryphus?" roared Cornelius.
"I tell you I shall shed his blood as he did that of my black tulip."

The wretched prisoner began really to rave.

"Well, then, yes," said Rosa, all in a tremble. "Yes, yes, only be
quiet. Yes, yes, I will take his keys, I will open the door for you!
Yes, only be quiet, my own dear Cornelius."

She did not finish her speech, as a growl by her side interrupted her.

"My father!" cried Rosa.

"Gryphus!" roared Van Baerle. "Oh, you villain!"

Old Gryphus, in the midst of all the noise, had ascended the staircase
without being heard.

He rudely seized his daughter by the wrist.

"So you will take my keys?" he said, in a voice choked with rage. "Ah!
this dastardly fellow, this monster, this gallows-bird of a conspirator,
is your own dear Cornelius, is he? Ah! Missy has communications with
prisoners of state. Ah! won't I teach you--won't I?"

Rosa clasped her hands in despair.

"Ah!" Gryphus continued, passing from the madness of anger to the cool
irony of a man who has got the better of his enemy,--"Ah, you innocent
tulip-fancier, you gentle scholar; you will kill me, and drink my blood!
Very well! very well! And you have my daughter for an accomplice. Am
I, forsooth, in a den of thieves,--in a cave of brigands? Yes, but the
Governor shall know all to-morrow, and his Highness the Stadtholder
the day after. We know the law,--we shall give a second edition of the
Buytenhof, Master Scholar, and a good one this time. Yes, yes, just gnaw
your paws like a bear in his cage, and you, my fine little lady, devour
your dear Cornelius with your eyes. I tell you, my lambkins, you shall
not much longer have the felicity of conspiring together. Away with you,
unnatural daughter! And as to you, Master Scholar, we shall see each
other again. Just be quiet,--we shall."

Rosa, beyond herself with terror and despair, kissed her hands to her
friend; then, suddenly struck with a bright thought, she rushed toward
the staircase, saying,--

"All is not yet lost, Cornelius. Rely on me, my Cornelius."

Her father followed her, growling.

As to poor Cornelius, he gradually loosened his hold of the bars, which
his fingers still grasped convulsively. His head was heavy, his eyes
almost started from their sockets, and he fell heavily on the flo