The night passed away very sweetly for Cornelius, althoughin great agitation. Every instant he fancied he heard thegentle voice of Rosa calling him. He then started up, wentto the door, and looked through the grating, but no one wasbehind it, and the lobby was empty.
Rosa, no doubt, would be watching too, but, happier than he,she watched over the tulip; she had before her eyes thatnoble flower, that wonder of wonders. which not only wasunknown, but was not even thought possible until then.
What would the world say when it heard that the black tulipwas found, that it existed and that it was the prisoner VanBaerle who had found it
How Cornelius would have spurned the offer of his liberty inexchange for his tulip
Day came, without any news; the tulip was not yet in flower.
The day passed as the night. Night came, and with it Rosa,joyous and cheerful as a bird.
Well?" asked Cornelius.
Well, all is going on prosperously. This night, without anydoubt, our tulip will be in flower.""And will it flower black?""Black as jet.""Without a speck of any other colour.""Without one speck.""Good Heavens! my dear Rosa, I have been dreaming all night,in the first place of you," (Rosa made a sign ofincredulity,) "and then of what we must do.""Well?""Well, and I will tell you now what I have decided on. Thetulip once being in flower, and it being quite certain thatit is perfectly black, you must find a messenger.""If it is no more than that, I have a messenger quiteready.""Is he safe?""One for whom I will answer, -- he is one of my lovers.""I hope not Jacob.""No, be quiet, it is the ferryman of Loewestein, a smartyoung man of twenty-five.""By Jove!""Be quiet," said Rosa, smiling, "he is still under age, asyou have yourself fixed it from twenty-six to twenty-eight.""In fine, do you think you may rely on this young man?""As on myself; he would throw himself into the Waal or theMeuse if I bade him.""Well, Rosa, this lad may be at Haarlem in ten hours; youwill give me paper and pencil, and, perhaps better still,pen and ink, and I will write, or rather, on secondthoughts, you will, for if I did, being a poor prisoner,people might, like your father, see a conspiracy in it. Youwill write to the President of the Horticultural Society,and I am sure he will come.""But if he tarries?""Well, let us suppose that he tarries one day, or even two;but it is impossible. A tulip-fancier like him will nottarry one hour, not one minute, not one second, to set outto see the eighth wonder of the world. But, as I said, if hetarried one or even two days, the tulip will still be in itsfull splendour. The flower once being seen by the President,and the protocol being drawn up, all is in order; you willonly keep a duplicate of the protocol, and intrust the tulipto him. Ah! if we had been able to carry it ourselves, Rosa,it would never have left my hands but to pass into yours;but this is a dream, which we must not entertain," continuedCornelius with a sigh, "the eyes of strangers will see itflower to the last. And above all, Rosa, before thePresident has seen it, let it not be seen by any one. Alas
if any one saw the black tulip, it would be stolen.""Oh!""Did you not tell me yourself of what you apprehended fromyour lover Jacob? People will steal one guilder, why not ahundred thousand?""I shall watch; be quiet.""But if it opened whilst you were here?""The whimsical little thing would indeed be quite capable ofplaying such a trick," said Rosa.
And if on your return you find it open?""Well?""Oh, Rosa, whenever it opens, remember that not a momentmust be lost in apprising the President.""And in apprising you. Yes, I understand."Rosa sighed, yet without any bitter feeling, but rather likea woman who begins to understand a foible, and to accustomherself to it.
I return to your tulip, Mynheer van Baerle, and as soon asit opens I will give you news, which being done themessenger will set out immediately.""Rosa, Rosa, I don't know to what wonder under the sun Ishall compare you.""Compare me to the black tulip, and I promise you I shallfeel very much flattered. Good night, then, till we meetagain, Mynheer Cornelius.""Oh, say 'Good night, my friend.'""Good night, my friend," said Rosa, a little consoled.
Say, 'My very dear friend.'""Oh, my friend -- ""Very dear friend, I entreat you, say 'very dear,' Rosa,very dear.""Very dear, yes, very dear," said Rosa, with a beatingheart, beyond herself with happiness.
And now that you have said 'very dear,' dear Rosa, say also'most happy': say 'happier and more blessed than ever manwas under the sun.' I only lack one thing, Rosa.""And that is?""Your cheek, -- your fresh cheek, your soft, rosy cheek. Oh,Rosa, give it me of your own free will, and not by chance.
Ah!"The prisoner's prayer ended in a sigh of ecstasy; his lipsmet those of the maiden, -- not by chance, nor by stratagem,but as Saint-Preux's was to meet the lips of Julie a hundredyears later.
Rosa made her escape.
Cornelius stood with his heart upon his lips, and his faceglued to the wicket in the door.
He was fairly choking with happiness and joy. He opened hiswindow, and gazed long, with swelling heart, at thecloudless vault of heaven, and the moon, which shone likesilver upon the two-fold stream flowing from far beyond thehills. He filled his lungs with the pure, sweet air, whilehis brain dwelt upon thoughts of happiness, and his heartoverflowed with gratitude and religious fervour.
Oh Thou art always watching from on high, my God," hecried, half prostrate, his glowing eyes fixed upon thestars: "forgive me that I almost doubted Thy existenceduring these latter days, for Thou didst hide Thy facebehind the clouds, and wert for a moment lost to my sight, OThou merciful God, Thou pitying Father everlasting! Butto-day, this evening, and to-night, again I see Thee in allThy wondrous glory in the mirror of Thy heavenly abode, andmore clearly still in the mirror of my grateful heart."He was well again, the poor invalid; the wretched captivewas free once more.
During part of the night Cornelius, with his heart full ofjoy and delight, remained at his window, gazing at thestars, and listening for every sound.
Then casting a glance from time to time towards the lobby,--"Down there," he said, "is Rosa, watching like myself, andwaiting from minute to minute; down there, under Rosa'seyes, is the mysterious flower, which lives, which expands,which opens, perhaps Rosa holds in this moment the stem ofthe tulip between her delicate fingers. Touch it gently,Rosa. Perhaps she touches with her lips its expandingchalice. Touch it cautiously, Rosa, your lips are burning.
Yes, perhaps at this moment the two objects of my dearestlove caress each other under the eye of Heaven."At this moment, a star blazed in the southern sky, and shotthrough the whole horizon, falling down, as it were, on thefortress of Loewestein.
Cornelius felt a thrill run through his frame.
Ah!" he said, "here is Heaven sending a soul to my flower."And as if he had guessed correctly, nearly at that verymoment the prisoner heard in the lobby a step light as thatof a sylph, and the rustling of a gown, and a well-knownvoice, which said to him, --"Cornelius, my friend, my very dear friend, and very happyfriend, come, come quickly."Cornelius darted with one spring from the window to thedoor, his lips met those of Rosa, who told him, with a kiss,--"It is open, it is black, here it is.""How! here it is?" exclaimed Cornelius.
Yes, yes, we ought indeed to run some little risk to give agreat joy; here it is, take it."And with one hand she raised to the level of the grating adark lantern, which she had lit in the meanwhile, whilstwith the other she held to the same height the miraculoustulip.
Cornelius uttered a cry, and was nearly fainting.
Oh!" muttered he, "my God, my God, Thou dost reward me formy innocence and my captivity, as Thou hast allowed two suchflowers to grow at the grated window of my prison!"The tulip was beautiful, splendid, magnificent; its stem wasmore than eighteen inches high; it rose from out of fourgreen leaves, which were as smooth and straight as ironlance-heads; the whole of the flower was as black andshining as jet.
Rosa," said Cornelius, almost gasping, "Rosa, there is notone moment to lose in writing the letter.""It is written, my dearest Cornelius," said Rosa.
Is it, indeed?""Whilst the tulip opened I wrote it myself, for I did notwish to lose a moment. Here is the letter, and tell mewhether you approve of it."Cornelius took the letter, and read, in a handwriting whichwas much improved even since the last little note he hadreceived from Rosa, as follows: --"Mynheer President, -- The black tulip is about to open,perhaps in ten minutes. As soon as it is open, I shall senda messenger to you, with the request that you will come andfetch it in person from the fortress at Loewestein. I am thedaughter of the jailer, Gryphus, almost as much of a captiveas the prisoners of my father. I cannot, therefore, bring toyou this wonderful flower. This is the reason why I beg youto come and fetch it yourself.
It is my wish that it should be called Rosa Barlaensis.
It has opened; it is perfectly black; come, MynheerPresident, come.
I have the honour to be your humble servant,"Rosa Gryphus.
That's it, dear Rosa, that's it. Your letter is admirable
I could not have written it with such beautiful simplicity.
You will give to the committee all the information that willbe required of you. They will then know how the tulip hasbeen grown, how much care and anxiety, and how manysleepless nights, it has cost. But for the present not aminute must be lost. The messenger! the messenger!""What's the name of the President?""Give me the letter, I will direct it. Oh, he is very wellknown: it is Mynheer van Systens, the burgomaster ofHaarlem; give it to me, Rosa, give it to me."And with a trembling hand Cornelius wrote the address, --"To Mynheer Peter van Systens, Burgomaster, and President ofthe Horticultural Society of Haarlem.""And now, Rosa, go, go," said Cornelius, "and let us implorethe protection of God, who has so kindly watched over usuntil now.