Черный тюльпан
The Second Bulb
IknowwellitisfartoHaarlem,butwithmoneyyouwillfindamessenger.Haveyouanymoney,Rosa?”
Rosasmiled.
“Oh,yes!”shesaid.
“Enough?”saidCornelius.
“Ihavethreehundredguilders.”
“Oh,ifyouhavethreehundredguilders,youmustnotsendamessenger,Rosa,butyoumustgotoHaarlemyourself.”
“Butwhatinthemeantimeistobecomeoftheflower?”
“Oh,theflower!youmusttakeitwithyou.Youunderstandthatyoumustnotseparatefromitforaninstant.”
“ButwhilstIamnotseparatingfromit,Iamseparatingfromyou,MynheerCornelius.”
“Ah!that’strue,mysweetRosa.Oh,myGod!howwickedmenare!WhathaveIdonetooffendthem,andwhyhavetheydeprivedmeofmyliberty?Youareright,Rosa,Icannotlivewithoutyou.Well,youwillsendsomeonetoHaarlem,—that’ssettled;really,thematteriswonderfulenoughforthePresidenttoputhimselftosometrouble.HewillcomehimselftoLoewesteintoseethetulip.”
Then,suddenlycheckinghimself,hesaid,withafalteringvoice,—
“Rosa,Rosa,ifafterallitshouldnotflowerblack!”
“Oh,surely,surely,youwillknowto-morrow,orthedayafter.”
“Andtowaituntileveningtoknowit,Rosa!Ishalldiewithimpatience.Couldwenotagreeaboutasignal?”
“Ishalldobetterthanthat.”
“Whatwillyoudo?”
“Ifitopensatnight,Ishallcomeandtellyoumyself.Ifitisday,Ishallpassyourdoor,andslipyouanoteeitherunderthedoor,orthroughthegrating,duringthetimebetweenmyfather’sfirstandsecondinspection.”
“Yes,Rosa,letitbeso
