Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

“Is the oval regular? the cylinder full? and are the points

very green?”

“The oval is almost one inch long, and tapers like a needle,

the cylinder swells at the sides, and the points are ready

to open.”

Two days after Rosa announced that they were open.

“Open, Rosa!” cried Cornelius. “Is the involucrum open? but

then one may see and already distinguish —- ”

Here the prisoner paused, anxiously taking breath.

“Yes,” answered Rosa, “one may already distinguish a thread

of different colour, as thin as a hair.”

“And its colour?” asked Cornelius, trembling.

“Oh,” answered Rosa, “it is very dark!”

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Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

“Brown?”

“Darker than that.”

“Darker, my good Rosa, darker? Thank you. Dark as —- ”

“Dark as the ink with which I wrote to you.”

Cornelius uttered a cry of mad joy.

Then, suddenly stopping and clasping his hands, he said, —

“Oh, there is not an angel in heaven that may be compared to

you, Rosa!”

“Indeed!” said Rosa, smiling at his enthusiasm.

“Rosa, you have worked with such ardour, — you have done so

much for me! Rosa, my tulip is about to flower, and it will

flower black! Rosa, Rosa, you are the most perfect being on

earth!”

“After the tulip, though.”

“Ah! be quiet, you malicious little creature, be quiet! For

shame! Do not spoil my pleasure. But tell me, Rosa, — as

the tulip is so far advanced, it will flower in two or three

days, at the latest?”

“To-morrow, or the day after.”

“Ah! and I shall not see it,” cried Cornelius, starting

back, “I shall not kiss it, as a wonderful work of the

Almighty, as I kiss your hand and your cheek, Rosa, when by

chance they are near the grating.”

Rosa drew near, not by accident, but intentionally, and

Cornelius kissed her tenderly.

“Faith, I shall cull it, if you wish it.”

“Oh, no, no, Rosa! when it is open, place it carefully in

the shade, and immediately send a message to Haarlem, to the

President of the Horticultural Society, that the grand black

tulip is in flower. I know well it is far to Haarlem, but

with money you will find a messenger. Have you any money,

Rosa?”

Rosa smiled.

“Oh, yes!” she said.

“Enough?” said Cornelius.

“I have three hundred guilders.”

“Oh, if you have three hundred guilders, you must not send a

messenger, Rosa, but you must go to Haarlem yourself.”

“But what in the meantime is to become of the flower?”

“Oh, the flower! you must take it with you. You understand

that you must not separate from it for an instant.”

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“But whilst I am not separating from it, I am separating

from you, Mynheer Cornelius.”

“Ah! that’s true, my sweet Rosa. Oh, my God! how wicked men

are! What have I done to offend them, and why have they

deprived me of my liberty? You are right, Rosa, I cannot

live without you. Well, you will send some one to Haarlem,

— that’s settled; really, the matter is wonderful enough

for the President to put himself to some trouble. He will

come himself to Loewestein to see the tulip.”

Then, suddenly checking himself, he said, with a faltering

voice, —

“Rosa, Rosa, if after all it should not flower black!”

“Oh, surely, surely, you will know to-morrow, or the day

after.”

“And to wait until evening to know it, Rosa! I shall die

with impatience. Could we not agree about a signal?”

“I shall do better than that.”

“What will you do?”

“If it opens at night, I shall come and tell you myself. If

it is day, I shall pass your door, and slip you a note

either under the door, or through the grating, during the

time between my father’s first and second inspection.”

“Yes, Rosa, let it be so. One word of yours, announcing this

news to me, will be a double happiness.”

“There, ten o’clock strikes,” said Rosa, “I must now leave

you.”

“Yes, yes,” said Cornelius, “go, Rosa, go!”

Rosa withdrew, almost melancholy, for Cornelius had all but

sent her away.

It is true that he did so in order that she might watch over