the blood was still there; for the key was a fairy who was Blue Beard’s friend; so that as fast as she got off the blood on one side, it came again on the other.  Early in the same evening Blue Beard came home, saying, that before he had gone far on his journey he was met by a horseman, who was coming to tell him that his affair in the country was settled without his being present; upon which his wife said every thing she could think of, to make him believe she was in a transport of joy at his sudden return.

The next morning he asked her for the keys:  she gave them to him; but as she could not help showing her fright, Blue Beard easily guessed what had been the matter.  “How is it,” said he, “that the key of the closet upon the ground floor is not here?” “Is it not?” said the wife, “then I must have left it on my dressing-table.”  “Be sure you give it me by and by,” replied Blue Beard.  After going a good many times backwards and forwards, as if she was looking for the key, she was at last forced to give it to Blue Beard.  He looked hard at it, and then said:  “How came this blood upon the key?” “I am sure I do not know,” replied the poor lady, at the same time turning as white as a sheet.  “You do not know?” said Blue Beard sternly, “but I know well enough.  You have been in the closet on the ground floor!  Very well, madam:  since you are so mighty fond of this closet, you shall be sure to take your place among the ladies you saw there.”  His wife, who was almost dead with fear, now fell upon her knees, asked his pardon a thousand times for her fault, and begged him to forgive her, looking all the time so very mournful and lovely, that she would have melted any heart that was not harder than a rock.  But Blue Beard only said, “No, no, madam; you shall die this very minute!” “Alas!” said the poor trembling creature, “if I must die, give me, as least, a little time to say my prayers.”  “I give you,” replied the cruel Blue Beard, “half a quarter of an hour:  not a moment longer.”  When Blue Beard had left her to herself, she called her sister; and after telling her, as well as she could for sobbing, that she had but half a quarter of an hour to live; “Prithee,” said she, “sister Anne,” (this was her sister’s name), “run up to the top of the tower, and see if my brothers are not in sight, for they said they would visit me to-day, and if you see them, make a sign for them to gallop on as fast as ever they can.”  Her sister straight did as she was desired; and the poor trembling lady every minute cried out to her:  “Anne! sister Anne! do you see any one coming?” Her sister said, “I see nothing but the sun, which makes a dust, and the grass, which looks green.”