Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1890-04-18
A SPANISH BLUEBEARD

dissolute life. but now desired to set
tie down to his own estate and take to
himself wife. who would preside over
his household in fitting fashion. Be-
ing rich and handsome, his wickedness
went for naught; and soon he was be-
trothed to n lovely lady, whose family
were pleased with the alliance, and
who brought him fine fortune.
The wedding was celebrated with
great pomp, and he brought his bride
home to his palace. the poor of the
place gathered rs usual about the door;
anil one-a withered old beggar-wo-
man-was loud in her praise of the
lady's beauty, and begged to be per-
mtted to present her with a boquet of
wild flowers that she had gathered in
the woods.
"a poor offering, my lady," said
the woman, but all the poor gypsy
has to give"
The lady took the flowers with
smile, and dropped a coin into the
gypsy's hand. As she entered the door
she bent her lovely head and inhaled
the perfume of the flowers.
The servants remembered the ac-
ton, and her smile, as she passed into
her apartment, leaning on her hus-
bands 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 had killed her.
The young widower was very sad for
a long time, bnt by and by he began to
find life bright once more, and chose
for himself second wife. This lady
was lovelier than the first, though not
so rich. Her predecessors fate did not
alarm her, for she was strong and full
of health. Death seemed 10 be very
far from so radiant a creature, as she
stood before the church altar and
plighted her troth to the man with
whom she hoped to pass her life; but
those who remembered the first wifes
fate shuddered as at the fall of even
! tide she entered the gates Of her hus-
bands villa. The same old gypsy who
had greeted the former bride stood
amidst the crowd.
Heaven and the saints bless you.
lady" she cried. Il greeted her who
came before, and faded like 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, accepted the Offering, and re-
paid the gift with coin.
She held the blossoms loosely in her
hand, and passed into the hall. A
banquet was prepared. and she par
/ took of it. Wine was on the board;
she tasted of it. When the dance be-
] Ann hot he.
bride. 1t was merry wedding and
when at last, in the hours of the morn
ing, the music died away, the guests
departed and the lamps were eXtin-
! guished, the beautiful girl turned, with
smiles and bushes to seek her place of
rest. As she crossed the Threshold of
the hall she stopped and picked some
/ thing from the floor.
my poor gypsy's flowers" she said
II will 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
| pi lows, but no fair head rested upon
them. He looked about him; in the
corner of the room lap what looked
like heap of rumpled satin at first
sight He advanced toward it, and
saw hand that grasped convulsively
| a little bunch of white flowers. and
with cry of horror, cast himself be-
side the body of his bride. She was
dead; she bore no wound, no sign of
injury about her. Again the phvsi-
clans could not find the cause for the
death, and people began to whisper
tales of evil spirits who haunted this
the fair beings who braved them by
entering it.
Again the gentleman was a 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-
teries of whose castle were so terrible,
and for years the widower went a-woo-
ing without winning. until one morn
ing, meeting the Donna Mora on her
way TO church, her black eyes yelled
beanoth her black mautilla, he made
grand impression, and was permitted
ere long to offer his hand and heart
with true Spanish gallantry.
Donna Mora. who was a widow, lis
tened not i'll pleased.
al do not detest you, Scnor," she
said. land l frankly tell you so, but
you have had strange bridals hereto
lore. l do not feel tired of life, and
desire to enjoy myself little longer.
Let me know why your first wife died.
You must surely know"
On my soul, l do not!" said the
gentleman.
Il believe YOU" said the lady. Ills
ten to me, then. am ready to mar
ry you, but before / do, must be al
lowed to inspect your house from roof
to cellar. You must vacate it, and
give me the keys, and must go there
alone with my sister, will discover
the mystery, ii there is one"
Donna Mora" said the gentleman,
"do as you will. vacate the dwell
ing at once. There are the keys. The
long one Of steel opens that fatal
chamber which beg you not to en-
ter--the bridal chamber Of my dead
brides. Adieu! Thanks for your
promise, which shall hasten to claim
NH