He was fairly choking with happiness and joy.He opened his window, and gazed long, with swelling heart, at the cloudless vault of heaven, and the moon, which shone like silver upon the two-fold stream flowing from far beyond the hills.He filled his lungs with the pure, sweet air, while his brain dwelt upon thoughts of happiness, and his heart overflowed with gratitude and religious fervour.
"Oh Thou art always watching from on high, my God," he cried, half prostrate, his glowing eyes fixed upon the stars: "forgive me that I almost doubted Thy existence during these latter days, for Thou didst hide Thy face behind the clouds, and wert for a moment lost to my sight, OThou merciful God, Thou pitying Father everlasting! But to-day, this evening, and to-night, again I see Thee in all Thy wondrous glory in the mirror of Thy heavenly abode, and more clearly still in the mirror of my grateful heart."He was well again, the poor invalid; the wretched captive was free once more.
During part of the night Cornelius, with his heart full of joy and delight, remained at his window, gazing at the stars, 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, and waiting from minute to minute; down there, under Rosa's eyes, is the mysterious flower, which lives, which expands, which opens, perhaps Rosa holds in this moment the stem of the tulip between her delicate fingers.Touch it gently, Rosa.Perhaps she touches with her lips its expanding chalice.Touch it cautiously, Rosa, your lips are burning.
Yes, perhaps at this moment the two objects of my dearest love caress each other under the eye of Heaven."At this moment, a star blazed in the southern sky, and shot through the whole horizon, falling down, as it were, on the fortress 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 very moment the prisoner heard in the lobby a step light as that of a sylph, and the rustling of a gown, and a well-known voice, which said to him, --"Cornelius, my friend, my very dear friend, and very happy friend, come, come quickly."Cornelius darted with one spring from the window to the door, 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 a great joy; here it is, take it."And with one hand she raised to the level of the grating a dark lantern, which she had lit in the meanwhile, whilst with the other she held to the same height the miraculous tulip.
Cornelius uttered a cry, and was nearly fainting.
"Oh!" muttered he, "my God, my God, Thou dost reward me for my innocence and my captivity, as Thou hast allowed two such flowers to grow at the grated window of my prison!"The tulip was beautiful, splendid, magnificent; its stem was more than eighteen inches high; it rose from out of four green leaves, which were as smooth and straight as iron lance-heads; the whole of the flower was as black and shining as jet.
"Rosa," said Cornelius, almost gasping, "Rosa, there is not one 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 not wish to lose a moment.Here is the letter, and tell me whether you approve of it."Cornelius took the letter, and read, in a handwriting which was much improved even since the last little note he had received 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 send a messenger to you, with the request that you will come and fetch it in person from the fortress at Loewestein.I am the daughter of the jailer, Gryphus, almost as much of a captive as the prisoners of my father.I cannot, therefore, bring to you this wonderful flower.This is the reason why I beg you to come and fetch it yourself.
"It is my wish that it should be called Rosa Barlaensis.
"It has opened; it is perfectly black; come, Mynheer President, 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 will be required of you.They will then know how the tulip has been grown, how much care and anxiety, and how many sleepless nights, it has cost.But for the present not a minute 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 well known: it is Mynheer van Systens, the burgomaster of Haarlem; 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 of the Horticultural Society of Haarlem.""And now, Rosa, go, go," said Cornelius, "and let us implore the protection of God, who has so kindly watched over us until now."
