Rosa hid her face in her hands with a movement of despair.
“His name is Cornelius Van Baerle,” said Boxtel, “and he is godson of that villain, Cornelius De Witte.”
The Prince gave a start; his generally quiet eye flashed, and a death-like paleness spread over his impassible features.
He went up to Rosa, and, with his finger, gave her a sign to remove her hands from her face.
Rosa obeyed, as if under mesmeric influence, without having seen the sign.
“It was then to follow this man, that you came to me at Leyden to solicit for the transfer of your father?”
Rosa hung down her head, and, nearly choking, said,—
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Go on,” said the Prince to Boxtel.
“I have nothing more to say,” Isaac continued. “Your Highness knows all. But there is one thing which I did not intend to say, because I did not wish to make this girl blush for her ingratitude. I came to Lœvestein, because I had business there. On this occasion I made the acquaintance of old Gryphus, and, falling in love with his daughter, made an offer of marriage to her; and, not being rich, I committed the imprudence of mentioning to them my prospect of gaining a hundred thousand guilders, in proof of which I showed to them the black tulip. Her lover, having himself made a show at Dort of cultivating tulips, to hide his political intrigues, they now plotted together for my ruin. On the eve of the day when the flower was expected to open, the tulip was taken away by this young woman. She carried it to her room, from whence I had the good luck to recover it, at the very moment when she had the impudence to despatch a messenger
