for a moment, calling to mind her husband’s prohibition, and reflecting that some trouble might fall upon her for her disobedience; but the temptation was so strong that she could not resist it. So she took the little key, and with a trembling hand opened the door of the closet.
At first she could distinguish nothing, for the windows were closed; in a few minutes, however, she began to see that the floor was covered with blood, in which was reflected the bodies of several dead women hanging on the walls. These were all the wives of Blue Beard, who had killed them one after another. She was ready to die with fright, and the key, which she had taken out of the lock, fell from her hand.
After recovering her senses a little, she picked up the key, locked the door again, and went up to her room to try and compose herself; but she found it impossible to quiet her agitation.
She now perceived that the key of the closet was stained with blood; she wiped it two or three times, but the blood would not come off. In vain she washed it, and even scrubbed it with sand and free-stone, the stain was still there, for the key was an enchanted one, and there were no means of cleaning it completely; when the blood was washed off one side, it came back on the other.
Blue Beard returned that very evening, and said that he had received letters on the road, telling him that the business on which he was going had been settled to his advantage.
His wife did all she could to make him believe that she was delighted at his speedy return.
The next morning he asked her for his keys again; she gave them to him; but her hand trembled so, that he had not much difficulty in guessing what had happened.
“How comes it,” said he, “that the key of the closet is not with the others?”
“I must have left it,” she replied, “upstairs on my table.”
“Fail not,” said Blue Beard, “to give it me presently.”
After several excuses, she was obliged to go and fetch the key. Blue Beard having examined it, said to his wife, “Why is there blood on this key?” “I don’t know,” answered the poor wife, paler than death.
“You don’t know!” rejoined Blue Beard; “I know well enough. You must needs go into the closet. Well, madam, you shall go in again, and take your place among the ladies you saw there.”
She flung herself at her husband’s feet, weeping and begging his pardon, with all the signs of a true repentance at having disobeyed him. Her beauty and sorrow might have melted a rock, but Blue Beard had a heart harder than rock.
“You must die, madam,” said he, “and at once.”
“If I must die,” she replied, looking at him with streaming eyes, “give me a little time to say my prayers.”
“I give you half a quarter of an hour,” answered Blue Beard, “not a minute more.”
As soon as she found herself alone, she called her sister, and said to her, “Sister Anne”—for so she was named—”go up, I pray you, to the top of the tower, and see if my brothers are not in sight. They promised they would come to visit me to-day, and if you see them, sign to them to make haste.”
Sister Anne mounted to the top of the tower, and the poor unhappy wife called to her from time to time, “Anne! Sister Anne! do you not see anything coming?” and Sister Anne answered her, “I see nothing but the dust turning gold in the sun, and the grass growing green.”
Meanwhile, Blue Beard, with a large cutlass in his hand, called out with all his might to his wife, “Come down quickly, or I shall come up there.” “One minute more, if you please,” replied his wife; and then said quickly in a low voice, “Anne! Sister Anne! do you not see anything coming?” And Sister Anne answered, “I see nothing but the dust turning gold in the sun, and the grass growing green.”
“Come down quickly,” roared Blue Beard, “or I shall come up there.”
“I am coming,” answered his wife; and then called “Anne! Sister Anne! do you not see anything coming?”
“I see a great cloud of dust moving this way,” said Sister Anne.
“Is it my brothers?”
“Alas! no, sister, only a flock of sheep.”
“Will you not come down?” shouted Blue Beard.
“One minute more,” replied his wife; and then she cried, “Anne! Sister Anne! do you not see anything coming?”
“I see two horsemen coming this way,” she replied, “but they are still a great distance off. Heaven be praised!” she exclaimed a moment afterwards. “They are my brothers! I am making all the signs I can to hasten them.”
“Your tears are useless” said Bluebeard, “you must die!”
Blue Beard began to roar so loudly that the whole house shook again. The poor wife went down and threw herself at his feet with weeping eyes and dishevelled hair. “It is of no use,” said Blue Beard; “you must die!” Then, taking her by the hair with one hand, and raising the cutlass with the other, he was about to cut off her head.
The poor wife, turning towards him her dying eyes, begged him to give her one short moment to collect herself. “No, no,” said he; “commend yourself to heaven,” and, lifting his arm.... At this moment there was such a loud knocking at the gate that Blue Beard stopped short. It was opened, and two horsemen were immediately seen to enter, who, drawing their swords, ran straight at Blue Beard. He recognised them as the brothers of his wife, one a dragoon, the other a musketeer, and he therefore fled at once, hoping to escape; but they pursued him so closely that they overtook him before he could reach the steps to his door, and, running their swords through his body, left him dead on the spot. The poor wife was almost as dead as her husband, and had not strength to rise and embrace her brothers.
It was found that Blue Beard had left no heirs, and so his widow came into possession of all his property. She employed part of it in marrying her Sister Anne to a man who had long loved her; another part in buying captains’ commissions for her two brothers; and with the remainder she married herself to a very worthy man, who made her forget the dreadful time she had passed with Blue Beard.
Provided one has common sense, And of the world but knows the ways, This story bears the evidence Of being one of bygone days. No husband now is so terrific, Impossibilities expecting: Though jealous, he is still pacific, Indifference to his wife affecting. And of his beard, whate’er the hue, His spouse need fear no such disaster; Indeed, ‘twould often puzzle you To say which of the twain is master.
Master Cat;
Or,
Puss In Boots
A miller bequeathed to his three sons all he possessed of worldly goods, which consisted only of his Mill, his Ass, and his Cat. It did not take long to divide the property, and neither notary nor attorney was called in; they would soon have eaten up the poor little patrimony. The eldest son had the Mill; the second son, the Ass; and the youngest had nothing but the Cat.
The latter was very disconsolate
