Черный тюльпан
The Third Bulb
“MasterBoxtel,”saidWilliam,“youseemtohavediscoveredthesecretofgrowingtheblacktulip?”
“Yes,yourHighness,”answeredBoxtel,inavoicewhichstillbetrayedsomeconfusion.
ItistruehisagitationmighthavebeenattributabletotheemotionwhichthemanmusthavefeltonsuddenlyrecognisingthePrince.
“But,”continuedtheStadtholder,“hereisayoungdamselwhoalsopretendstohavefoundit.”
Boxtel,withadisdainfulsmile,shruggedhisshoulders.
Williamwatchedallhismovementswithevidentinterestandcuriosity.
“Thenyoudon’tknowthisyounggirl?”saidthePrince.
“No,yourHighness!”
“Andyou,child,doyouknowMasterBoxtel?”
“No,Idon’tknowMasterBoxtel,butIknowMasterJacob.”
“Whatdoyoumean?”
“ImeantosaythatatLoewesteinthemanwhoherecallshimselfIsaacBoxtelwentbythenameofMasterJacob.”
“Whatdoyousaytothat,MasterBoxtel?”
“Isaythatthisdamsellies,yourHighness.”
“Youdeny,therefore,havingeverbeenatLoewestein?”
Boxtelhesitated;thefixedandsearchingglanceoftheproudeyeofthePrincepreventedhimfromlying.
“IcannotdenyhavingbeenatLoewestein,yourHighness,butIdenyhavingstolenthetulip.”
“Youhavestolenit,andthatfrommyroom,”criedRosa,withindignation.
“Idenyit.”
“Nowlistentome.
