American library books ยป Fiction ยป The Black Tulip by Alexandre Dumas (ebook offline reader .txt) ๐Ÿ“•

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โ€œYou are ill, Mynheer Cornelius?โ€

โ€œYes, I am,โ€ he answered, as indeed he was suffering in mind and in body.

โ€œI saw that you did not eat,โ€ said Rosa; โ€œmy father told me 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.โ€

โ€œAnd I,โ€ said Cornelius, โ€œI have answered. Seeing your return, my dear Rosa, I thought you had received my letter.โ€

โ€œIt is true; I have received it.โ€

โ€œYou 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.โ€

โ€œIndeed, 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.โ€

โ€œRestore me to health?โ€ cried Cornelius; โ€œbut have you any good news to communicate to me?โ€

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,โ€”

โ€œI have only to speak to you about your tulip, which, as I well know, is the object uppermost in your mind.โ€

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.

โ€œOh!โ€ muttered Cornelius, โ€œagain! 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?โ€

Rosa smiled with a melancholy air.

โ€œAh!โ€ she said, โ€œyour tulip has been in such danger.โ€

Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and showed himself clearly to be caught in the trap, if ever the remark was meant as such.

โ€œDanger!โ€ he cried, quite alarmed; โ€œwhat danger?โ€

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.

โ€œYes,โ€ she said, โ€œyou have guessed the truth; that suitor and amorous swain, Jacob, did not come on my account.โ€

โ€œAnd what did he come for?โ€ Cornelius anxiously asked.

โ€œHe came for the sake of the tulip.โ€

โ€œAlas!โ€ 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.

โ€œOh, pardon me, Rosa!โ€ he said, โ€œI 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.โ€

Rosa, without replying to this excuse of the prisoner, continued,โ€”

โ€œFrom 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 saidโ€”โ€

Cornelius interrupted her.

โ€œOnce more, pardon me, Rosa!โ€ he cried. โ€œI 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?โ€

โ€œOn the following day,โ€ Rosa continued, โ€œremembering 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 meโ€”โ€”โ€

โ€œYes, yes, odious. Tell me,โ€ he said, โ€œdo you hate that man?โ€

โ€œI do hate him,โ€ said Rosa, โ€œas he is the cause of all the unhappiness I have suffered these eight days.โ€

โ€œYou, too, have been unhappy, Rosa? I thank you a thousand times for this kind confession.โ€

โ€œWell, 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 whether I was again followed as I was last time.โ€

โ€œAnd then?โ€ Cornelius asked.

โ€œAnd then the same shadow glided between the gate and the wall, and once more disappeared behind the elder-trees.โ€

โ€œYou feigned not to see him, didnโ€™t you?โ€ Cornelius asked, remembering all the details of the advice which he had given to Rosa.

โ€œYes, and I stooped over the border, in which I dug with a spade, as if I was going to put the bulb in.โ€

โ€œAnd he,โ€”what did he do during all this time?โ€

โ€œI saw his eyes glisten through the branches of the tree like those of a tiger.โ€

โ€œThere you see, there you see!โ€ cried Cornelius.

โ€œThen, after having finished my make-believe work, I retired.โ€

โ€œBut only behind the garden door, I dare say, so that you might see through the keyhole what he was going to do when you had left?โ€

โ€œHe waited for a moment, very likely to make sure of my not coming back, after which he sneaked forth from his hiding-place, and approached the border by a long round-about; at last, having reached his goal, that is to say, the spot where the ground was newly turned, he stopped with a careless air, looking about in all directions, and scanning every corner of the garden, every window of the neighbouring houses, and even the sky; after which, thinking himself quite alone, quite isolated, and out of everybodyโ€™s sight, he pounced upon the border, plunged both his hands into the soft soil, took a handful of the mould, which he gently frittered between his fingers to see whether the bulb was in it, and repeated the same thing twice or three times, until at last he perceived that he was outwitted. Then, keeping down the agitation which was raging in his breast, he took up the rake, smoothed the ground, so as to leave it on his retiring in the same state as he had found it, and, quite abashed and rueful, walked back to the door, affecting the unconcerned air of an ordinary visitor of the garden.โ€

โ€œOh, the wretch!โ€ muttered Cornelius, wiping the cold sweat from his brow. โ€œOh, the wretch! I guessed his intentions. But the bulb, Rosa; what have

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