“Tell me.”
“Go to-morrow into the garden; manage matters so that Jacob may know, as he did the first time, that you are going there, and that he may follow you. Feign to put the bulb into the ground; leave the garden, but look through the keyhole of the door and watch him.”
“Well, and what then?”
“What then? We shall do as he does.”
“Oh!” said Rosa, with a sigh, “you are very fond of your bulbs.”
“To tell the truth,” said the prisoner, sighing likewise, “since your father crushed that unfortunate bulb, I feel as if part of my own self had been paralyzed.”
“Now just hear me,” said Rosa; “will you try something else?”
“What?”
“Will you accept the proposition of my father?”
“Which proposition?”