“From the moment when I first knew that you were uneasy on account of the man who followed me, and in whom I had recognized Jacob, I was even more uneasy myself. On the day, therefore, after that on which I saw you last, and on which you said—”
Cornelius interrupted her.
“Once more, pardon me, Rosa!” he cried. “I was wrong in saying to you what I said. I have asked your pardon for that unfortunate speech before. I ask it again: shall I always ask it in vain?”
“On the following day,” Rosa continued, “remembering what you had told me about the stratagem which I was to employ to ascertain whether that odious man was after the tulip, or after me——”
“Yes, yes, odious. Tell me,” he said, “do you hate that man?”
“I do hate him,” said Rosa, “as he is the cause of all the unhappiness I have suffered these eight days.”
“You, too, have been unhappy, Rosa? I thank you a thousand times for this kind confession.”
“Well, on the day after that unfortunate one, I went down into the garden and proceeded towards the border where I was to plant your tulip, looking round all the while to see whether I was again followed as I was last time.”
“And then?” Cornelius asked.
“And then the same shadow glided between the gate and the wall, and once more disappeared behind the elder-trees.”