Dumas, Alexandre – The Black Tulip

Horticultural Society.

Rosa, reassured by this sort of encouragement which the

stranger was giving her, related all that had happened for

the last three months, all that she had done, and all that

she had suffered. She described the cruelty of Gryphus; the

destruction of the first bulb; the grief of the prisoner;

the precautions taken to insure the success of the second

bulb; the patience of the prisoner and his anxiety during

their separation; how he was about to starve himself because

he had no longer any news of his tulip; his joy when she

went to see him again; and, lastly, their despair when they

found that the tulip which had come into flower was stolen

just one hour after it had opened.

All this was detailed with an accent of truth which,

although producing no change in the impassible mien of the

Prince, did not fail to take effect on Van Systens.

“But,” said the Prince, “it cannot be long since you knew

the prisoner.”

Rosa opened her large eyes and looked at the stranger, who

drew back into the dark corner, as if he wished to escape

her observation.

“Why, sir?” she asked him.

“Because it is not yet four months since the jailer Gryphus

and his daughter were removed to Loewestein.”

“That is true, sir.”

“Otherwise, you must have solicited the transfer of your

father, in order to be able to follow some prisoner who may

have been transported from the Hague to Loewestein.”

“Sir,” said Rosa, blushing.

“Finish what you have to say,” said William.

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“I confess I knew the prisoner at the Hague.”

“Happy prisoner!” said William, smiling.

At this moment the officer who had been sent for Boxtel

returned, and announced to the Prince that the person whom

he had been to fetch was following on his heels with his tulip.

Chapter 27

The Third Bulb

Boxtel’s return was scarcely announced, when he entered in

person the drawing-room of Mynheer van Systens, followed by

two men, who carried in a box their precious burden and

deposited it on a table.

The Prince, on being informed, left the cabinet, passed into

the drawing-room, admired the flower, and silently resumed

his seat in the dark corner, where he had himself placed his

chair.

Rosa, trembling, pale and terrified, expected to be invited

in her turn to see the tulip.

She now heard the voice of Boxtel.

“It is he!” she exclaimed.

The Prince made her a sign to go and look through the open

door into the drawing-room.

“It is my tulip,” cried Rosa, “I recognise it. Oh, my poor

Cornelius!”

And saying this she burst into tears.

The Prince rose from his seat, went to the door, where he

stood for some time with the full light falling upon his

figure.

As Rosa’s eyes now rested upon him, she felt more than ever

convinced that this was not the first time she had seen the

stranger.

“Master Boxtel,” said the Prince, “come in here, if you

please.”

Boxtel eagerly approached, and, finding himself face to face

with William of Orange, started back.

“His Highness!” he called out.

“His Highness!” Rosa repeated in dismay.

Hearing this exclamation on his left, Boxtel turned round,

and perceived Rosa.

At this sight the whole frame of the thief shook as if under

the influence of a galvanic shock.

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“Ah!” muttered the Prince to himself, “he is confused.”

But Boxtel, making a violent effort to control his feelings,

was already himself again.

“Master Boxtel,” said William, “you seem to have discovered

the secret of growing the black tulip?”

“Yes, your Highness,” answered Boxtel, in a voice which

still betrayed some confusion.

It is true his agitation might have been attributable to the

emotion which the man must have felt on suddenly recognising

the Prince.

“But,” continued the Stadtholder, “here is a young damsel

who also pretends to have found it.”

Boxtel, with a disdainful smile, shrugged his shoulders.

William watched all his movements with evident interest and

curiosity.

“Then you don’t know this young girl?” said the Prince.

“No, your Highness!”

“And you, child, do you know Master Boxtel?”