Cornelius trembled involuntarily, and showed himself clearly to be caught in the trap, if ever the remark was meant as such.
“Danger!” he cried, quite alarmed; “what danger?”
Rosa looked at him with gentle compassion; she felt that what she wished was beyond the power of this man, and that he must be taken as he was, with his little foible.
“Yes,” she said, “you have guessed the truth; that suitor and amorous swain, Jacob, did not come on my account.”
“And what did he come for?” Cornelius anxiously asked.
“He came for the sake of the tulip.”
“Alas!” said Cornelius, growing even paler at this piece of information than he had been when Rosa, a fortnight before, had told him that Jacob was coming for her sake.
Rosa saw this alarm, and Cornelius guessed, from the expression of her face, in what direction her thoughts were running.
“Oh, pardon me, Rosa!” he said, “I know you, and I am well aware of the kindness and sincerity of your heart. To you God has given the thought and strength for defending yourself; but to my poor tulip, when it is in danger, God has given nothing of the sort.”
Rosa, without replying to this excuse of the prisoner, continued,—