Page:The black tulip (IA 10892334.2209.emory.edu).pdf/232

 so it would be labour lost not to have at least a nice little row.

Gryphus, therefore, on seeing that Cornelius did not stir, tried to attract his attention by a loud—

“Umph, umph.”

Cornelius was humming between his teeth the “Hymn of Flowers,” a sad, but very charming song.

This song, the placid melancholy of which was still heightened by its calm and sweet melody, exasperated Gryphus.

He struck his stick on the stone pavement of the cell, and called out,—

“Halloa! my warbling gentleman, don’t you hear me?”

Cornelius turned round, merely saying,—

“Good morning,” and then began his song again.

“Ah, you accursed sorcerer! you are making game of me, I believe,” roared Gryphus.

Cornelius continued:—

Gryphus went up to the prisoner, and said,—