Чорний тюльпан
The Opening of the Flower
Thencastingaglancefromtimetotimetowardsthelobby,—
“Downthere,”hesaid,“isRosa,watchinglikemyself,andwaitingfromminutetominute;downthere,underRosa’seyes,isthemysteriousflower,whichlives,whichexpands,whichopens,perhapsRosaholdsinthismomentthestemofthetulipbetweenherdelicatefingers.Touchitgently,Rosa.Perhapsshetoucheswithherlipsitsexpandingchalice.Touchitcautiously,Rosa,yourlipsareburning.Yes,perhapsatthismomentthetwoobjectsofmydearestlovecaresseachotherundertheeyeofHeaven.”
Atthismoment,astarblazedinthesouthernsky,andshotthroughthewholehorizon,fallingdown,asitwere,onthefortressofLoewestein.
Corneliusfeltathrillrunthroughhisframe.
“Ah!”hesaid,“hereisHeavensendingasoultomyflower.”
Andasifhehadguessedcorrectly,nearlyatthatverymomenttheprisonerheardinthelobbyasteplightasthatofasylph,andtherustlingofagown,andawell-knownvoice,whichsaidtohim,—
“Cornelius,myfriend,myverydearfriend,andveryhappyfriend,come,comequickly.”
Corneliusdartedwithonespringfromthewindowtothedoor,hislipsmetthoseofRosa,whotoldhim,withakiss,—
“Itisopen,itisblack,hereitis.”
“How!hereitis?”exclaimedCornelius.
“Yes,yes,weoughtindeedtorunsomelittlerisktogiveagreatjoy;hereitis,takeit.”
Andwithonehandsheraisedtothelevelofthegratingadarklantern,whichshehadlitinthemeanwhile,whilstwiththeothersheheldtothesameheightthemiraculoustulip.
