ionate father was rejoicing at the thought of
his daughter weeping in her room, Rosa was making the best of her way
towards Haarlem.

Thus the prisoner alone was where Gryphus thought him to be.

Rosa was so little with her father since she took care of the tulip,
that at his dinner hour, that is to say, at twelve o'clock, he was
reminded for the first time by his appetite that his daughter was
fretting rather too long.

He sent one of the under-turnkeys to call her; and, when the man came
back to tell him that he had called and sought her in vain, he resolved
to go and call her himself.

He first went to her room, but, loud as he knocked, Rosa answered not.

The locksmith of the fortress was sent for; he opened the door, but
Gryphus no more found Rosa than she had found the tulip.

At that very moment she entered Rotterdam.

Gryphus therefore had just as little chance of finding her in the
kitchen as in her room, and just as little in the garden as in the
kitchen.

The reader may imagine the anger of the jailer when, after having made
inquiries about the neighbourhood, he heard that his daughter had hired
a horse, and, like an adventuress, set out on a journey without saying
where she was going.

Gryphus again went up in his fury to Van Baerle, abused him, threatened
him, knocked all the miserable furniture of his cell about, and promised
him all sorts of misery, even starvation and flogging.

Cornelius, without even hearing what his jailer said, allowed himself to
be ill-treated, abused, and threatened, remaining all the while sullen,
immovable, dead to every emotion and fear.

After having sought for Rosa in every direction, Gryphus looked out for
Jacob, and, as he could not find him either, he began to suspect from
that moment that Jacob had run away with her.

The damsel, meanwhile, after having stopped for two hours at Rotterdam,
had started again on her journey. On that evening she slept at Delft,
and on the following morning she reached Haarlem, four hours after
Boxtel had arrived there.

Rosa, first of all, caused herself to be led before Mynheer van Systens,
the President of the Horticultural Society of Haarlem.

She found that worthy gentleman in a situation which, to do justice to
our story, we must not pass over in our description.

The President was drawing up a report to the committee of the society.

This report was written on large-sized paper, in the finest handwriting
of the Presid