Черный тюльпан
The First Bulb
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“ThismancameseveraltimesbeforetotheBuytenhof,attheHague.Iremembernow,itwasjustaboutthetimewhenyouwereconfinedthere.WhenIleft,helefttoo;whenIcamehere,hecameafterme.AttheHaguehispretextwasthathewantedtoseeyou.”
“Seeme?”
“Yes,itmusthaveundoubtedlybeenonlyapretextfornow,whenhecouldpleadthesamereason,asyouaremyfather’sprisoneragain,hedoesnotcareanylongerforyou;quitethecontrary,—Iheardhimsaytomyfatheronlyyesterdaythathedidnotknowyou.”
“Goon,Rosa,praydo,thatImayguesswhothatmanis,andwhathewants.”
“Areyouquitesure,MynheerCornelius,thatnoneofyourfriendscaninteresthimselfforyou?”
“Ihavenofriends,Rosa;Ihaveonlymyoldnurse,whomyouknow,andwhoknowsyou.Alas,poorSue!shewouldcomeherself,andusenoroundaboutways.Shewouldatoncesaytoyourfather,ortoyou,‘Mygoodsir,ormygoodmiss,mychildishere;seehowgrievedIam;letmeseehimonlyforonehour,andI’llprayforyouaslongasIlive.’No,no,”continuedCornelius;“withtheexceptionofmypooroldSue,Ihavenofriendsinthisworld.”
“ThenIcomebacktowhatIthoughtbefore;andthemoresoaslasteveningatsunset,whilstIwasarrangingtheborderwhereIamtoplantyourbulb,Isawashadowglidingbetweenthealdertreesandtheaspens.Ididnotappeartoseehim,butitwasthisman.Heconcealedhimselfandsawmediggingtheground,andcertainlyitwasmewhomhefollowed,andmewhomhewasspyingafter.
