Черный тюльпан

The Maid and the Flower

           

           ItwaspitifultoseeCornelius,dumbwithgrief,andpalefromutterprostration,stretchouthisheadthroughtheironbarsofhiswindow,attheriskofnotbeingabletodrawitbackagain,totryandgetaglimpseofthegardenontheleftspokenofbyRosa,whohadtoldhimthatitsparapetoverlookedtheriver.Hehopedthatperhapshemightsee,inthelightoftheAprilsun,Rosaorthetulip,thetwolostobjectsofhislove.

           Intheevening,GryphustookawaythebreakfastanddinnerofCornelius,whohadscarcelytouchedthem.

           Onthefollowingdayhedidnottouchthematall,andGryphuscarriedthedishesawayjustashehadbroughtthem.

           Corneliushadremainedinbedthewholeday.

           “Well,”saidGryphus,comingdownfromthelastvisit,“Ithinkweshallsoongetridofourscholar.”

           Rosawasstartled.

           “Nonsense!”saidJacob.“Whatdoyoumean?”

           “Hedoesn’tdrink,hedoesn’teat,hedoesn’tleavehisbed.Hewillgetoutofit,likeMynheerGrotius,inachest,onlythechestwillbeacoffin.”

           Rosagrewpaleasdeath.

           “Ah!”shesaidtoherself,“heisuneasyabouthistulip.”

           And,risingwithaheavyheart,shereturnedtoherchamber,whereshetookapenandpaper,andduringthewholeofthatnightbusiedherselfwithtracingletters.

           Onthefollowingmorning,whenCorneliusgotuptodraghimselftothewindow,heperceivedapaperwhichhadbeenslippedunderthedoor

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