It was indeed in itself a great honour for Cornelius vanBaerle to be confined in the same prison which had oncereceived the learned master Grotius.

　　But on arriving at the prison he met with an honour evengreater. As chance would have it, the cell formerlyinhabited by the illustrious Barneveldt happened to bevacant, when the clemency of the Prince of Orange sent thetulip-fancier Van Baerle there.

　　The cell had a very bad character at the castle since thetime when Grotius, by means of the device of his wife, madeescape from it in that famous book-chest which the jailersforgot to examine.

　　On the other hand, it seemed to Van Baerle an auspiciousomen that this very cell was assigned to him, for accordingto his ideas, a jailer ought never to have given to a secondpigeon the cage from which the first had so easily flown.

　　The cell had an historical character. We will only statehere that, with the exception of an alcove which wascontrived there for the use of Madame Grotius, it differedin no respect from the other cells of the prison; only,perhaps, it was a little higher, and had a splendid viewfrom the grated window.

　　Cornelius felt himself perfectly indifferent as to the placewhere he had to lead an existence which was little more thanvegetation. There were only two things now for which hecared, and the possession of which was a happiness enjoyedonly in imagination.

　　A flower, and a woman; both of them, as he conceived, lostto him for ever.

　　Fortunately the good doctor was mistaken. In his prison cellthe most adventurous life which ever fell to the lot of anytulip-fancier was reserved for him.

　　One morning, whilst at his window inhaling the fresh airwhich came from the river, and casting a longing look to thewindmills of his dear old city Dort, which were looming inthe distance behind a forest of chimneys, he saw flocks ofpigeons coming from that quarter to perch fluttering on thepointed gables of Loewestein.

　　These pigeons, Van Baerle said to himself, are coming fromDort, and consequently may return there. By fastening alittle note to the wing of one of these pigeons, one mighthave a chance to send a message there. Then, after a fewmoments' consideration, he exclaimed, --"I will do it."A man grows very patient who is twenty-eight years of age,and condemned to a prison for life, -- that is to say, tosomething like twenty-two or twenty-three thousand days ofcaptivity.

　　Van Baerle, from whose thoughts the three bulbs were neverabsent, made a snare for catching the pigeons, baiting thebirds with all the resources of his kitchen, such as it wasfor eight slivers (sixpence English) a day; and, after amonth of unsuccessful attempts, he at last caught a femalebird.

　　It cost him two more months to catch a male bird; he thenshut them up together, and having about the beginning of theyear 1673 obtained some eggs from them, he released thefemale, which, leaving the male behind to hatch the eggs inher stead, flew joyously to Dort, with the note under herwing.

　　She returned in the evening. She had preserved the note.

　　Thus it went on for fifteen days, at first to thedisappointment, and then to the great grief, of Van Baerle.

　　On the sixteenth day, at last, she came back without it.

　　Van Baerle had addressed it to his nurse, the old Frisianwoman; and implored any charitable soul who might find it toconvey it to her as safely and as speedily as possible.

　　In this letter there was a little note enclosed for Rosa.

　　Van Baerle's nurse had received the letter in the followingway.

　　Leaving Dort, Mynheer Isaac Boxtel had abandoned, not onlyhis house, his servants, his observatory, and his telescope,but also his pigeons.

　　The servant, having been left without wages, first lived onhis little savings, and then on his master's pigeons.

　　Seeing this, the pigeons emigrated from the roof of IsaacBoxtel to that of Cornelius van Baerle.

　　The nurse was a kind-hearted woman, who could not livewithout something to love. She conceived an affection forthe pigeons which had thrown themselves on her hospitality;and when Boxtel's servant reclaimed them with culinaryintentions, having eaten the first fifteen already, and nowwishing to eat the other fifteen, she offered to buy themfrom him for a consideration of six stivers per head.

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