contrive to get here? tell me."

"Now listen to me. My father falls asleep every evening almost
immediately after his supper; I then make him lie down, a little
stupefied with his gin. Don't say anything about it, because, thanks
to this nap, I shall be able to come every evening and chat for an hour
with you."

"Oh, I thank you, Rosa, dear Rosa."

Saying these words, Cornelius put his face so near the little window
that Rosa withdrew hers.

"I have brought back to you your bulbs."

Cornelius's heart leaped with joy. He had not yet dared to ask Rosa what
she had done with the precious treasure which he had intrusted to her.

"Oh, you have preserved them, then?"

"Did you not give them to me as a thing which was dear to you?"

"Yes, but as I have given them to you, it seems to me that they belong
to you."

"They would have belonged to me after your death, but, fortunately, you
are alive now. Oh how I blessed his Highness in my heart! If God grants
to him all the happiness that I have wished him, certainly Prince
William will be the happiest man on earth. When I looked at the Bible
of your godfather Cornelius, I was resolved to bring back to you your
bulbs, only I did not know how to accomplish it. I had, however, already
formed the plan of going to the Stadtholder, to ask from him for my
father the appointment of jailer of Loewestein, when your housekeeper
brought me your letter. Oh, how we wept together! But your letter only
confirmed me the more in my resolution. I then left for Leyden, and the
rest you know."

"What, my dear Rosa, you thought, even before receiving my letter, of
coming to meet me again?"

"If I thought of it," said Rosa, allowing her love to get the better of
her bashfulness, "I thought of nothing else."

And, saying these words, Rosa looked so exceedingly pretty, that for
the second time Cornelius placed his forehead and lips against the wire
grating; of course, we must presume with the laudable desire to thank
the young lady.

Rosa, however, drew back as before.

"In truth," she said, with that coquetry which somehow or other is in
the heart of every young girl, "I have often been sorry that I am not
able to read, but never so much so as when your housekeeper brought me
your letter. I kept the paper in my hands, which spoke to other people,
and which was dumb to poor stupid me."

"So you have often regretted not being able to read," said Cornelius. "I
should just like to know on