After all the guests had gone, Fatima noticed a spot of blood on the key
of the fatal room. She tried to wipe it off, but the spot remained. Then
she washed the key with soap and scoured it with sand, but her efforts
were in vain, for it was a magic key, and only Bluebeard himself had the
power to remove the stain. At last she decided not to put it with the
other keys, but to hide it, hoping her husband would not miss it.
Bluebeard returned unexpectedly that very evening. He said a horseman
had met him on the road and told him that the business which had taken
him from home had been satisfactorily settled so there was no need of
his making the long journey.
Fatima tried to welcome her husband with every appearance of pleasure,
but all the time she was dreading the moment when he should ask for the
keys. This he did not do until the following morning. Then she gave them
to him with such a blanched face and shaking hand that he easily guessed
what had happened.
"Why have you not brought me the key of the little room?" he asked
sternly.
"I must have left it on my table upstairs," she faltered.
"Bring it to me at once," Bluebeard said, and she was forced to go and
make a pretence of searching for it.
When she dared delay no longer, she went to her husband and surrendered
the key. He immediately demanded the cause of the stain on it, and she
hesitated, at a loss what reply to make.
"But why need I ask?" he shouted. "I know the meaning of it right well.
You have disobeyed my commands and have been into the room I ordered you
not to enter. So you shall go in again, madam, but you will never
return. You shall take your place among the ladies you saw there."
Fatima fell on her knees at his feet weeping and begging for mercy, but
the cruel man had a heart like a stone, and he told her to prepare for
death.
"Since I must die," she said, "at least grant me a little time to say my
prayers."
"I will give you ten minutes, but not one moment more," Bluebeard
responded.
Poor Fatima hastened to a little turret chamber whither her sister had
fled in terror and grief. "Sister Anne!" she cried, "go up to the top of
the tower and see if our two brothers are coming. They promised to visit
me today. If they should be in sight beckon them to come quickly."
So the sister climbed the narrow staircase that led to the top of the
tower. No sooner did she finish the ascent than Fatima called from
below, "Anne, Sister Anne, do you see any one coming?"
Anne replied sadly, "I see nothing but the sun shining and the grass
growing tall and green."
Several times Fatima put the same question and each time she received
the same answer.
Meanwhile Bluebeard was waiting with a scimitar in one hand and his
watch in the other. At length he shouted in a fierce voice: "The ten
minutes are almost gone! Make an end to your prayers!"
"Anne, Sister Anne!" Fatima called softly, "look again. Is there no one
on the road?"
"I see a cloud of dust rising in the distance," Anne answered.
"Perchance it is made by our brothers," Fatima said.
"Alas! no, my dear sister," Anne responded. "The dust has been raised by
a flock of sheep."
"Fatima!" Bluebeard roared, "I command you to come down."
"One moment--just one moment more!" the wretched wife sobbed.