rying his head erect.

Cornelius counted the steps which led to the Esplanade, regretting that
he had not asked the guard how many there were of them, which the man,
in his official complaisance, would not have failed to tell him.

What the poor prisoner was most afraid of during this walk, which he
considered as leading him to the end of the journey of life, was to see
Gryphus and not to see Rosa. What savage satisfaction would glisten in
the eyes of the father, and what sorrow dim those of the daughter!

How Gryphus would glory in his punishment! Punishment? Rather savage
vengeance for an eminently righteous deed, which Cornelius had the
satisfaction of having performed as a bounden duty.

But Rosa, poor girl! must he die without a glimpse of her, without an
opportunity to give her one last kiss, or even to say one last word of
farewell?

And, worst of all, must he die without any intelligence of the black
tulip, and regain his consciousness in heaven with no idea in what
direction he should look to find it?

In truth, to restrain his tears at such a crisis the poor wretch's
heart must have been encased in more of the aes triplex--"the triple
brass"--than Horace bestows upon the sailor who first visited the
terrifying Acroceraunian shoals.

In vain did Cornelius look to the right and to the left; he saw no sign
either of Rosa or Gryphus.

On reaching the Esplanade, he bravely looked about for the guards
who were to be his executioners, and in reality saw a dozen soldiers
assembled. But they were not standing in line, or carrying muskets, but
talking together so gayly that Cornelius felt almost shocked.

All at once, Gryphus, limping, staggering, and supporting himself on a
crooked stick, came forth from the jailer's lodge; his old eyes, gray
as those of a cat, were lit up by a gleam in which all his hatred was
concentrated. He then began to pour forth such a torrent of disgusting
imprecations against Cornelius, that the latter, addressing the officer,
said,--

"I do not think it very becoming sir, that I should be thus insulted by
this man, especially at a moment like this."

"Well! hear me," said the officer, laughing, "it is quite natural that
this worthy fellow should bear you a grudge,--you seem to have given it
him very soundly."

"But, sir, it was only in self-defence."

"Never mind," said the Captain, shrugging his shoulders like a true
philosopher, "let him talk; what does it matter to you now?