Черный тюльпан
The Opening of the Flower
Corneliusutteredacry,andwasnearlyfainting.
“Oh!”mutteredhe,“myGod,myGod,Thoudostrewardmeformyinnocenceandmycaptivity,asThouhastallowedtwosuchflowerstogrowatthegratedwindowofmyprison!”
Thetulipwasbeautiful,splendid,magnificent;itsstemwasmorethaneighteenincheshigh;itrosefromoutoffourgreenleaves,whichwereassmoothandstraightasironlance-heads;thewholeoftheflowerwasasblackandshiningasjet.
“Rosa,”saidCornelius,almostgasping,“Rosa,thereisnotonemomenttoloseinwritingtheletter.”
“Itiswritten,mydearestCornelius,”saidRosa.
“Isit,indeed?”
“WhilstthetulipopenedIwroteitmyself,forIdidnotwishtoloseamoment.Hereistheletter,andtellmewhetheryouapproveofit.”
Corneliustooktheletter,andread,inahandwritingwhichwasmuchimprovedevensincethelastlittlenotehehadreceivedfromRosa,asfollows:—
“MynheerPresident,—Theblacktulipisabouttoopen,perhapsintenminutes.Assoonasitisopen,Ishallsendamessengertoyou,withtherequestthatyouwillcomeandfetchitinpersonfromthefortressatLoewestein.Iamthedaughterofthejailer,Gryphus,almostasmuchofacaptiveastheprisonersofmyfather.Icannot,therefore,bringtoyouthiswonderfulflower.ThisisthereasonwhyIbegyoutocomeandfetchityourself.
“ItismywishthatitshouldbecalledRosaBarlœnsis.
“Ithasopened;itisperfectlyblack;come,MynheerPresident,come.
“Ihavethehonourtobeyourhumbleservant,
“RosaGryphus.
“That’sit,dearRosa,that’sit
