Cornelius, with as tender an anxiety as he had lately shown to herself.
“Well,” she said, smiling, for in her own heart she could not help studying this double love of the prisoner for herself and for the black tulip, “I have done things on a large scale; I have prepared a bed as you described it to me, on a clear spot, far from trees and walls, in a soil slightly mixed with sand, rather moist than dry, without a fragment of stone or pebble.”
“Well done, Rosa, well done!”
“I am now only waiting for your further orders to put in the bulb; you know that I must be behind-hand with you, as I have in my favour all the chances of good air, of the sun, and abundance of moisture.”
“All true, all true,” exclaimed Cornelius, clapping his hands with joy, “you are a good pupil, Rosa, and you are sure to gain your hundred thousand guilders.”
“Don’t forget,” said Rosa, smiling, “that your pupil, as you call me, has still other things to learn besides the cultivation of tulips.”
“Yes, yes, and I am as anxious as you are, Rosa, that you should learn to read.”
“When shall we begin?”
“At once.”
“No, to-morrow.”
“Why to-morrow?”
“Because, to-day our hour is expired, and I must leave you.”
“Already? but what shall we read?”
“Oh! said Rosa, I have a book, a book which I hop will bring us luck.”
“To-morrow, then.”
“Yes, to-morrow.”
On the following evening, Rosa returned with the Bible of Cornelius De Witte.
