that you remained in bed all day. I then wrote to calm your
uneasiness concerning the fate of the most precious object
of your anxiety.”
“And I,” said Cornelius, “I have answered. Seeing your
return, my dear Rosa, I thought you had received my letter.”
“It is true; I have received it.”
“You cannot this time excuse yourself with not being able to
read. Not only do you read very fluently, but also you have
made marvellous progress in writing.”
“Indeed, I have not only received, but also read your note.
Accordingly I am come to see whether there might not be some
remedy to restore you to health.”
“Restore me to health?” cried Cornelius; “but have you any
good news to communicate to me?”
Saying this, the poor prisoner looked at Rosa, his eyes
sparkling with hope.
Whether she did not, or would not, understand this look,
Rosa answered gravely, —
“I have only to speak to you about your tulip, which, as I
well know, is the object uppermost in your mind.”
Rosa pronounced those few words in a freezing tone, which
cut deeply into the heart of Cornelius. He did not suspect
what lay hidden under this appearance of indifference with
which the poor girl affected to speak of her rival, the
black tulip.
“Oh!” muttered Cornelius, “again! again! Have I not told
you, Rosa, that I thought but of you? that it was you alone
whom I regretted, you whom I missed, you whose absence I
felt more than the loss of liberty and of life itself?”
Rosa smiled with a melancholy air.
“Ah!” she said, “your tulip has been in such danger.”
Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and showed himself clearly
to be caught in the trap, if ever the remark was meant as
such.
“Danger!” he cried, quite alarmed; “what danger?”
Rosa looked at him with gentle compassion; she felt that
what she wished was beyond the power of this man, and that
he must be taken as he was, with his little foible.
“Yes,” she said, “you have guessed the truth; that suitor
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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip
and amorous swain, Jacob, did not come on my account.”
“And what did he come for?” Cornelius anxiously asked.
“He came for the sake of the tulip.”
“Alas!” said Cornelius, growing even paler at this piece of
information than he had been when Rosa, a fortnight before,
had told him that Jacob was coming for her sake.
Rosa saw this alarm, and Cornelius guessed, from the
expression of her face, in what direction her thoughts were
running.
“Oh, pardon me, Rosa!” he said, “I know you, and I am well
aware of the kindness and sincerity of your heart. To you
God has given the thought and strength for defending
yourself; but to my poor tulip, when it is in danger, God
has given nothing of the sort.”
Rosa, without replying to this excuse of the prisoner,
continued, —
“From the moment when I first knew that you were uneasy on
account of the man who followed me, and in whom I had
recognized Jacob, I was even more uneasy myself. On the day,
therefore, after that on which I saw you last, and on which
you said — ”
Cornelius interrupted her.
“Once more, pardon me, Rosa!” he cried. “I was wrong in
saying to you what I said. I have asked your pardon for that
unfortunate speech before. I ask it again: shall I always
ask it in vain?”
“On the following day,” Rosa continued, “remembering what
you had told me about the stratagem which I was to employ to
ascertain whether that odious man was after the tulip, or
after me —- ”
“Yes, yes, odious. Tell me,” he said, “do you hate that
man?”
“I do hate him,” said Rosa, “as he is the cause of all the
unhappiness I have suffered these eight days.”
“You, too, have been unhappy, Rosa? I thank you a thousand
times for this kind confession.”
“Well, on the day after that unfortunate one, I went down
into the garden and proceeded towards the border where I was
to plant your tulip, looking round all the while to see