[Illustration: '_She washed it well_']

Blue Beard returned from his journey that very evening. He had received
some letters on the way, he said, from which he learned that the
business upon which he had set forth had just been concluded to his
satisfaction. His wife did everything she could to make it appear
that she was delighted by his speedy return. [Illustration: _Sister Anne_]

On the morrow he demanded the keys. She gave them to him, but with so
trembling a hand that he guessed at once what had happened. 'How comes it,' he said to her, 'that the key of the little room is not
with the others?' 'I must have left it upstairs upon my table,' she said. 'Do not fail to bring it to me presently,' said Blue Beard. After several delays the key had to be brought. Blue Beard examined it,
and addressed his wife. 'Why is there blood on this key?' 'I do not know at all,' replied the poor woman, paler than death. 'You do not know at all?' exclaimed Blue Beard; 'I know well enough. You
wanted to enter the little room! Well, madam, enter it you shall--you
shall go and take your place among the ladies you have seen there.' She threw herself at her husband's feet, asking his pardon with tears,
and with all the signs of a true repentance for her disobedience. She
would have softened a rock, in her beauty and distress, but Blue Beard
had a heart harder than any stone. 'You must die, madam,' he said; 'and at once.' 'Since I must die,' she replied, gazing at him with eyes that were wet
with tears, 'give me a little time to say my prayers.' 'I give you one quarter of an hour,' replied Blue Beard, 'but not a
moment longer.' When the poor girl was alone, she called her sister to her and said:

'Sister Anne'--for that was her name--'go up, I implore you, to the top
of the tower, and see if my brothers are not approaching. They promised
that they would come and visit me to-day. If you see them, make signs to
them to hasten.' Sister Anne went up to the top of the tower, and the poor unhappy girl
cried out to her from time to time:

'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?' And Sister Anne replied:

'I see nought but dust in the sun and the green grass growing.' Presently Blue Beard, grasping a great cutlass, cried out at the top of
his voice:

'Come down quickly, or I shall come upstairs myself.' 'Oh please, one moment more,' called out his wife. And at the same moment she cried in a whisper:

'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?' 'I see nought but dust in the sun and the green grass growing.' 'Come down at once, I say,' shouted Blue Beard, 'or I will come upstairs
myself.' 'I am coming,' replied his wife. Then she called:

'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?' 'I see,' replied Sister Anne, 'a great cloud of dust which comes this
way.' 'Is it my brothers?' 'Alas, sister, no; it is but a flock of sheep.' 'Do you refuse to come down?' roared Blue Beard. [Illustration: '_Brandishing the cutlass aloft_']

'One little moment more,' exclaimed his wife. Once more she cried:

'Anne, Sister Anne, do you see nothing coming?' 'I see,' replied her sister, 'two horsemen who come this way, but they
are as yet a long way off.... Heaven be praised,' she exclaimed a moment
later, 'they are my brothers.... I am signalling to them all I can to
hasten.' Blue Beard let forth so mighty a shout that the whole house shook. The
poor wife went down and cast herself at his feet, all dishevelled and in
tears. 'That avails you nothing,' said Blue Beard; 'you must die.' Seizing her by the hair with one hand, and with the other brandishing
the cutlass aloft, he made as if to cut off her head. The poor woman, turning towards him and fixing a dying gaze upon him,
begged for a brief moment in which to collect her thoughts. 'No! no!' he cried; 'commend your soul to Heaven.' And raising his
arm----

At this very moment there came so loud a knocking at the gate that Blue
Beard stopped short. The gate was opened, and two horsemen dashed in,
who drew their swords and rode straight at Blue Beard. The latter
recognised them as the brothers of his wife--one of them a dragoon, and
the other a musketeer--and fled instantly in an effort to escape. But
the two brothers were so close upon him that they caught him ere he
could gain the first flight of steps. They plunged their swords through
his body and left him dead. The poor woman was nearly as dead as her
husband, and had not the strength to rise and embrace her brothers. It was found that Blue Beard had no heirs, and that consequently his
wife became mistress of all his wealth. She devoted a portion to
arranging a marriage between her sister Anne and a young gentleman with
whom the latter had been for some time in love, while another portion
purchased a captain's commission for each of her brothers. The rest
formed a dowry for her own marriage with a very worthy man, who banished
from her mind all memory of the evil days she had spent with Blue
Beard. BEAUTY AND THE BEAST


Once upon a time there lived a merchant who was exceedingly rich. He had
six children--three boys and three girls--and being a sensible man he
spared no expense upon their education, but engaged tutors of every kind
for them. All his daughters were pretty, but the youngest especially was
admired by everybody. When she was small she was known simply as 'the
little beauty,' and this name stuck to her, causing a great deal of
jealousy on the part of her sisters. This youngest girl was not only prettier than her sisters, but very much
nicer. The two elder girls were very arrogant as a result of their
wealth; they pretended to be great ladies, declining to receive the
daughters of other merchants, and associating only with people of
quality. Every day they went off to balls and theatres, and for walks in
the park, with many a gibe at their little sister, who spent much of her
time in reading good books. Now these girls were known to be very rich, and in consequence were
sought in marriage by many prominent merchants. The two eldest said they
would never marry unless they could find a duke, or at least a count. But Beauty--this, as I have mentioned, was the name by which the
youngest was known--very politely thanked all who proposed marriage to
her, and said that she was too young at present, and that she wished to
keep her father company for several years yet. Suddenly the merchant lost his fortune, the sole property which remained
to him being a small house in the country, a long way from the capital. With tears he broke it to his children that they would have to move to
this house, where by working like peasants they might just be able to
live. The two elder girls replied that they did not wish to leave the town,
and that they had several admirers who would be only too happy to marry
them, notwithstanding their loss of fortune. But the simple maidens were
mistaken: their admirers would no longer look at them, now that they
were poor.