National Republican. (Washington City (D.C.)) 1872-1888, 1874-09-29
gpatiuuaI gepahIifatr
THE GLPsPs FLOWERS.
THE ORIGIN OF THE STORY OF BLUE
PEARn

There was once Spanish gentleman of high
rank, who had led very wild and dissOlute
life, but now desired to settle down on his
estate and take to himself wife who would
preside over his household in fitting fashioa-
Being rich and handsome, his wickedness went
for naught, and soon he was betrothed to .
lovely lady, whose family were pleased with
the alliance and who brought him fine for
tune.
The wedding was celebrated with greaE
pomp, and when he brought his wife home to
his palace the poor of the place, as usual,
gathered about the door, and one, withered
old beggar woman, being loud in her praises Of
the lady's beauty, and begging to bepermitteG
to present her with bouquet of white wild
flowers that she had gathered In the woods.
ga poor offering, my lady, I" said the woman,
''but all the poor gypsy has to give"
The lady took the flowers with q smile, and
dropped coin into the gipsy's hand. As she
entered the door she bent her lovely head aRG
inhaled the perfume of the flowers.
The servants remembered the action and her
smile as she passed into her apartment leaning
on her husbands arm, for It was the last they
ever saw of her. An hour after she lay dead
and all the doctors in Madrid could not tell
what killed her.
time, but by and by he began to find life bright
once more, and chose for himself second
wife. This lady was younger and lovelier than
the first, though not so rich. Her predeces-
sor's fate did not alarm her, for she was strong
and full Of health. Death seemed to be very
far from so radiant creature as she stood be-
fore the church altar and plighted her troth to
the man with whom she hoped to pass her
life /; but those who remembered the first Wife's
fate shuddered, as at the fall of evening she
entered the gates of her husbands villa. The
same old gypsy who had greeted the former
bride stood amid the crowd.
"HeaVen and the saints bless you, lsdyl"
she cried. 81 greeted her who came here be-
fore and faded like a flower. May you live
until your hair is as white as mine. Flowers
are all have to give. VIII you honor me By
taking them, ladyP'
The bride, as the other bride had done, &C
cepted the offering, and repaid the gift with
coin.
She held the blossoms loosely in her hand,
and passed into the hall. A banquet was pre-
pared and she partOok of it. Wine was on the
board; she tasted it. When the dance begaR
none danced more gsyly than the bride. It
was a merry wedding; and when at last in the
early hours of morning the music died away
the guests departed, and the lamps were eK-
tinguished, the beautiful girl turned with
smiles and bushes to seek her place of rest.
stopped and picked something from the floor.
my poor gipsy's flowers" she said. 'IWiH
not reject the humble token Of Kindness" and
bending her face over them she passed out Of
sight.
Half an hour afterward the husband also
entered the bridal room. All was still. The
lamplight fell over the pillows but no fair
head rested upon them. He looked about
him; in q far corner of the room lay what
looked like q heap of rumpled satin, at first
sight. He advanced toward it, and saw q
hand thar grasped convulsively little bunch
Of white flowers, and, with cry of horror,
cast himself beside the body Of his bride. She
was dead; she bore no wound; no sign of ia
Jury about her. Again the physicians could
find no cause for the death, and people began
to whisper tales of evil spirits who haunted
this fatal bridal chamber, and did to death
the fair beings who bFaYed them by entering It.
Again the gentleman was WidoWer; again
he suffered much sOrroW; but it was not
eternal. He began in time to seek another
bride, but In vain. No one would risk the
fate of those other young and lovely women.
No one would have this Bluebeard, the mys-
terry of whose castle was so terrible, and for
years the widOWer went 3 WoOing without
winning, until one morning, meeting the
Donna Mora on her way to the church, her
black eyes vailed beneath her black mantilIa :,
he made grand impression, and was per
mitted ere long to offer his hand and heart
with true Spanish gallsntry.
Donna Mora, who was widow, listened net
H-pleased.
81 do not detest you, Seno-," she said,
Sand frankly tell you so; but you have had
strange bridals heretofore. do not feel tired
of life, and desire to enjoy myself q little
longer. Let me know why your first wives
died. You must know"
"On my soul do MOI" said the gentle
man.
81 believe you," said the lady. 'sListen to
me, then. l am ready to marry you, but be-
fore 1 do must be allowed to inspect your
house from roof to cellar. You must Yacate
it and give me the keys, and must go there
alone with my sister. will discover the mys-
terry If there is one"
donna Mora, )" said the gentleman, ''do as
you will. I Vacate the dwelling at once.
There are the keys. The long one of steel
opens that fatal chamber, which beg you not
to enter-the bridal chamber of my dear
brides. Adieu! Thanks for your promise,
which shall hasten to claim when you sum
mon me-"
He kissed her hand and rode away.
She at once made ready to seek the dwelling
of which she had heard so much. The lum-
bering carriage held her, her sister, two
brothers, maid, man servant and pet poodle
very well. And at last they came in sight Of
the old Moorish building, and paused to in
spect it.
81 begin to tremble," said Donna Anna.
81 have no fears, f" said Donna Mora.
Then she ordered the coachman to drive
closer, descended and unlocked the gate with
her own hands. All was still; only the echoes
welcomed them.
Their feet awoke more upon the stairs; they
made Donna Anna nervous. Donna Mora was
as brave as q man.
They inspected every room; they peeped
into every closet, they opened the bridal
chamber, and saw the dust that had gathered
upon its ornaments, and from the neighbors
they drew the whole story. All that was
known. And for the first time Donna Mora
heard of the old gypsy and her flowers.
Then she waited, pacing the floors Of the
empty rooms, while Donna Anna watched
from the window, and the brothers smoked
cigarettes in the courtyard. What was she
waiting forl She told no one.
At last:
''Sister, is any one coming? thought
sit is an old gypsy with some flowers said
Donna Anna.
And Donna Mora said:
''Bid her come in"
Then passing between the smoking brothers,.
who scarcely looked up, and by the little dog,
who growled, entered an old woman, shriVeled
and yellow, who courtesied and said:
senoritas and the brave seniors. have heard
that the lady who is to be mistress here has
come, and am old and may not live to see
her bride, and would fam welcome her"
Then Donna Mora answered:
81 am the lady"
''Then may offer few wild flowers" said
the Gypsy, land my good wishesl for the senior
has been my benefactor. A poor gift, but do
not scorn IT.
She held the flowers toward DJnna Mora,
who took them and put them down upon the
table.
''Donna Anna" said she, ''bring my dog
here. Brothers, seize the gypsy"
In moment more the struggling woman
was held in a strong grasp, and Donna Mora,
holding her dog in her lap, pressed the flowers
to his nostrils.
ssIf he lives, free her; II he dies, have her
arrested" she said, quietly.
Donna Anna hid her face. The brothers
sternly regarded first the woman, then the
dog; the latter hsd begun to tremble. In
moment more he uttered q whine, long and
terrible to listen to. Donna Mora dropped
the flowers. The poor creature lay motion
less across her lap. He was dead.
''Have the woman arrested, % said Donna
Mora again at is she who has murdered
these two poor women with her poisoned
flowers, as she would have murdered me-"
But TO the senior, when they met once more,
she said this: