Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

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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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