Chapter 7

He would not, however, give heed to her prayers, and was just brandishing his sword, so that it might come down straight and true upon her slender neck, when the door burst open and two young army officers came rushing in, whom Bluebeard recognised as the brothers of his wife. He swiftly fled, but they speedily followed, and for his many crimes slew him then and there.

All his wealth now belonged to his widow, and she gratefully rewarded her brothers by purchasing them commissions in the army; she settled a large sum of money upon her sister, and after a while she married again, and with a good husband lived a happy life.

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

Once upon a time, a long while ago, there was a Beast.

He was a Great Beast, and lived in a Great Castle that stood in the middle of a Great Park, and everybody in the country held the Beast in great fear. In fact everything about the Beast was great; his roar was great and terrific and could be heard for miles around the park, and when he roared the people trembled.

Nobody ever saw the Beast, which was by no means remarkable, for the Beast never came out of his Park, and no one, I can assure you, ever ventured on to his estate.

But matters were not allowed to remain like this for ever, for something very wonderful happened to the Beast and to somebody else, and if that something had not happened this story would never have been written.

About two miles and three quarters from the Castle gates there lived a rich merchant and his three daughters. The two elder girls were ugly disagreeable things, and although they had all they could wish for to make them happy they were always grumbling; but the youngest daughter, whose name was Beauty, was very pretty, and her nature was happy and good, her presence was sunshine, and she was the joy of her father's heart.

Well, one day the two elder sisters had something to grumble about with a vengeance, for a telegram arrived to say that the merchant was no longer a rich merchant, for he had lost all his money.

So the horses and carriages had to be sold, and everything that was of value was got rid of, the servants were sent away, and the merchant and his daughters had to do their own work.

Dear me, it was shocking, the way those two sisters grumbled, but Beauty, oh dear no, she was all smiles, for her heart was as sunny as ever, as she rolled up the sleeves of her print frock, and cooked the dinner, and scrubbed the floors, and made herself useful, here, there, and everywhere.

Things had been going on like this for about three months, when one fine morning another telegram boy came with another telegram to say that somebody who owed the merchant a great deal of money was ready to pay the debt, and all the merchant had to do was to go to the city and get it.

Of course, everybody was delighted at this good news, and the merchant didn't waste any time, but started off to the city at once.

"Mind you bring me something back," said the eldest daughter as he was starting.

"What shall it be?" asked the merchant.

"A white satin dress trimmed with lace and pearls," said his eldest daughter.

"And you must bring me something too, please, father," said the second daughter.

"And what do you want," asked the merchant.

"A purse full of gold so that I can buy what I want myself," said the second daughter.

"I will try and do what you both ask," he said, "and what shall I bring for my Beauty?"

"I will wait a little for my dresses and things," replied the smiling Beauty, as she helped her father on with his cloak, "but I should like you to bring me home a rose, a lovely red rose, if you can."

So her father kissed her, and promised he would bring her the rose, and went on his way full of hopes.

What a pity it is that our hopes cannot be always realized, and that we are so often doomed to disappointment! When the merchant arrived at the city, to his dismay he found that the man who owed him the money was still unable to pay him, the man had been disappointed himself at the last moment.

So the unhappy father had to return home without the white satin dress trimmed with lace and pearls, and without the bag of money, and he dreaded meeting his two daughters, for he knew they would be terribly angry.

Now on his way home from the station to his house he had to pass by part of the wall that surrounded the Great Park where the Great Beast lived in his Great Castle; and as he passed by a corner of the wall what should he see hanging just over the top, and just within his reach if he stood on his toes, but a lovely red rose.

"At any rate I can take my Beauty what she asked for," he said to himself, and, without so much as giving a thought to the wrong he was doing, he stood on his toes and plucked the rose.

He was sorry he did it.

Of a sudden there was a roar, such a roar that the very ground shook, and as to the poor merchant he quivered like a leaf.

Enough to make him quiver indeed, for a gate in the wall suddenly opened, and out rushed the _Beast_.

Yes, the Beast, if you please, and he seized the merchant by the scruff of his neck, and dragged him into the Park, and shut the gate after him.

"Don't you know it's a sin to steal?" roared the Beast. "How dare you steal my roses? I am going to kill you."

"Oh, mercy, Mr. Beast," cried the unhappy man, flinging himself on his knees before the monster.

"I'm going to kill you," roared the Beast still more loudly. "It's taken years to cultivate this sort of rose, and--and I'm going to kill you. Unless," he added after a pause, "you send me one of your daughters here instead."

"All right," said the merchant and got on his feet again.

"She must be here to-morrow by breakfast time, and I breakfast early," said the Beast, as he let the merchant out of the gate. "If she is not here, I shall come for you, and don't you forget it."

It was by no means likely that he would forget it, in fact he could think of nothing else. He hurried home and told his dreadful news, and received a dreadful scolding from his two elder daughters, who were angry at not getting their presents.

"And it is Beauty's fault that you have got into this trouble," they said. "Beauty and her stupid rose. Beauty had better get you out of the trouble." Beauty said little, but smiled on, with sunshine in her heart, and trust in her loving nature, and cooked the dinner.

Early next morning when the dawn was breaking she left her father's house, leaving a little note behind her begging him not to be anxious but that she had gone to the Beast's castle.

When she came to the gate in the wall she knocked upon it three times and it opened as if by magic, for she could see no one. And she stepped into the garden of red roses, and in the distance across the Park she saw the Castle, and she thought she had never seen anything so beautiful. For it was built of mother-of-pearl, and the red and yellow gleams of the rising sun shone upon its glistening walls, and lit them up with a thousand radiant lights.

Beauty marvelled at the loveliness and walked on. And when she arrived at this beautiful Castle, the huge gates opened as if by magic, and the doors opened as if by magic, for never a soul did she see, nor living thing of any sort.

And in the great hall was the breakfast table laid for two. It was a nice breakfast with steaming hot dishes, and jams, honey, and hot rolls, and brightly polished silver, and sweet flowers.

Then the Beast appeared suddenly from behind a curtain; oh, he was an awful Beast, and Beauty's heart beat fast! But he seemed a polite Beast for all that.

He handed Beauty a chair, and when she had sat down said:

"I bid you welcome; which do you take, tea or coffee?"

"Tea please," answered Beauty.

"Then pour it out," he said, "and I'll take tea too, please. Eggs, do you like eggs hard or soft?"

"I always cook mine three minutes and a half," replied Beauty.

"Half a minute too much, I think. But you shall have just what you like."

And so she had; not only at the breakfast table but in everything. She had only to express a wish and it was immediately gratified. She had ponies to ride, and dogs and cats, and pet birds, and the most beautiful dresses ever worn by real princesses.

And if it had not been that she was away from her father she would really have been happy.

The Beast was most kind and attentive to her, and told her that he loved her, and three times a day he asked her to marry him, but Beauty shook her head and said, oh no, she couldn't.

Well, Beauty had been at the great Castle some time when she began to pine to go home and see her father, and she begged the Beast to let her go.

"Very good," he said with a great sigh, "you may go home to-day, but promise me that you will be back early to-morrow morning. If you do not come back early I am sure I shall die for I love you so dearly."

So Beauty promised and went home, and she took presents for her father and her sisters, and when the sisters heard of all the wonderful things at the great Castle, they were envious and jealous, and made up their minds to do Beauty and the Beast a great injury.

So they mixed something in Beauty's supper that made her sleep nearly all the next day, and so she did not keep her promise. It was evening when she arrived at the gate in the wall, instead of early morning.

But she knocked three times and the gate opened by magic, and she went through the garden and hurried to the Castle, that shone like fire in the light of the setting sun. And the huge gates opened by magic, and the doors opened by magic, and she stood in the great hall, but there was no Beast there. She searched in all the rooms but he was not there; with fear and anxiety in her heart she ran into the gardens, and there she found him at last. Found him lying stretched out on the grass, and she thought he was dead.

"Oh, dear darling Beast," she cried, as she threw herself on her knees beside him, and raised his ugly head, "dear Beast, do not die, for I love you with all my heart, and will marry you to-morrow." And she kissed him. Then of a sudden he sprang to his feet, but no longer the Beast, no longer a hideous monster, but a beautiful prince most beautifully dressed. "Dearest," he said, "a wicked fairy turned me into this brute form until a day should come when a good girl like you should tell me that she loved me. And you will marry me to-morrow."

"Oh, yes," answered Beauty, "but the wicked fairy could not change your nature. I would have married you if you had remained just as you were."

And so they married and lived happy ever afterwards, and they took care of Beauty's father until the end of his days; so he was happy, and they forgave the two sisters and gave them fine dresses and jewels, and the two sisters turned over a new leaf and were less selfish, and they were happy, so this is a very happy ending to the story.

What a pity all stories can't end the same way!

TUFTY RIQUET

There was once upon a time a Queen who had the ugliest little baby imaginable, so ugly, indeed, that it was almost impossible to believe he was a little boy at all.

A fairy, however, assured his mother that the little baby would be very good and clever, saying that she was also giving him a gift which would enable him to make that person whom he loved the best as clever as himself.

This somewhat consoled the Queen, but still she was very unhappy because her son was so ugly, though no sooner had he begun to speak than he could talk about all sorts of things, and he had such pretty ways that people were charmed with him.

I forgot to say, that, when he was quite a baby, he had a funny little tuft of hair on his head, so he was called Tufty Riquet, for Riquet was the family name.

When Riquet was about seven years old, the Queen of a kingdom near by was given two baby daughters, twins, of which one was so exquisitely beautiful that the Queen nearly died of joy when she saw her, and so the fairy, the same one who had given Riquet his gift of cleverness, to keep the Queen from making herself ill with excitement, told her that this little Princess would not be at all clever, indeed she would be as stupid as she was beautiful.

The Queen was very much grieved at this, and felt still more troubled when she beheld her other daughter, for the second Princess was extremely ugly.

"Do not take it too much to heart, madam," remarked the fairy, "for this second daughter will be so clever that it will scarcely be noticed that she is not beautiful."

"Well, if it must be so, it must," remarked the Queen, "but I should certainly have liked the elder one, who is beautiful, to be just a little bit clever too."

"I can do nothing as to her mind, madam," replied the fairy, "but for her beauty I can, and as there is nothing I would not do to please you, I will give her a gift so that she can make the one who wins her heart beautiful too."

As the Princesses grew up, their gifts likewise grew with them, so that everybody spoke about the beauty of the one and the cleverness of the other; but also their defects grew, so that it could not but be noticed that the younger was daily uglier, and the elder day by day became more stupid, until she either said nothing in reply to a question, or something quite silly, and so clumsy was she that she could not arrange four china ornaments on the chimney piece without breaking one, or drink a glass of water without spilling half of it on her frock.

Although it is a great thing to have beauty, yet the younger generally received more attention in company than her elder sister.

At first, everybody would gather around the beautiful one admiringly, but before long they would leave her for the clever Princess, to listen to her pleasant conversation; and by the end of a quarter of an hour the elder would be left alone, while the other would be the centre of a group.

This the elder sister noticed, in spite of her stupidity, and she would gladly have given all her beauty for half the cleverness of her sister, and sometimes the Queen, although full of kindness, would reproach her daughter for her foolishness, which caused the Princess almost to die of grief.

One day when she had retreated to a wood to brood over her unhappiness, she saw a little man coming towards her. He was uncommonly ugly and unpleasing in appearance, but was very richly dressed.

It was the young Prince Tufty Riquet, who had fallen in love with the pictures he had seen of her, and had left his father's kingdom for the sake of making her acquaintance.

Delighted to meet her alone in this manner, he accosted her as courteously as possible, but soon, noticing that she was melancholy, he said:

"I cannot understand how it is that anyone as beautiful as you are, can be as sad as you appear to be; for I must own, that although I can boast of having seen many beauties, not one have I ever met whose beauty equalled yours."

"It pleases you to say so, sir," replied the Princess, and relapsed into silence.

"Beauty," went on Riquet, "is so delightful that one would give everything for it, and if anyone is beautiful I can't understand anything troubling greatly."

"I would rather be as ugly as you," answered the Princess, "and be clever, than as beautiful as I am, and be stupid."

"To think you are stupid is a sure sign that you have a certain amount of cleverness, madam," replied Riquet.

"I don't think about that," said the Princess, "but I am quite sure that I am very silly, and the grief of that is killing me."

"If that is all that troubles you, I can soon put an end to your grief," said Riquet, "for I have the power of giving cleverness to the person whom I love the best, and if only you will marry me, you shall become as clever as you can wish."

The Princess was greatly astonished, but remained silent.

"I can see," continued Riquet, "that this proposal is not to your taste, and I am not astonished. I will give you a year to think about it."

So great was the longing of the Princess to be clever, that she at once promised Riquet to marry him in a year's time, and no sooner had she made the promise than a great change took place in her, and she found she could say all sorts of pleasant things, on all sorts of subjects, in quite an easy manner.

She at once began a conversation with Riquet, making such brilliant remarks, that he could almost think he had given her all his cleverness and had kept none for himself.

When the Princess returned to the Palace, everybody was astonished at the sudden and extraordinary change, for, instead of saying stupid things, or just nothing at all, she was now full of beautiful ideas which she expressed most charmingly.

The report of this transformation was soon spread abroad, and all the young Princes of the neighbouring kingdoms asked for her hand in marriage, but not one did she find altogether suitable.

However, at last one arrived, who was so powerful, rich, clever and handsome, that she could not help approving of him, and her father, noticing this, told her she was quite free to choose what husband she wished.

The Princess thanked him, and asked for time to consider the matter.

Then, to think it over, she went by chance, into the wood where she had met Tufty Riquet.

While she was walking, deep in thought, she noticed a loud noise beneath her feet, as of many persons hastening to and fro; then, listening attentively, she heard a voice say, "Bring me the saucepan," and another voice cry, "Put some wood on the fire."

At the same moment the earth opened and she saw a big kitchen full of cooks, and all sorts of things necessary for the making of a magnificent banquet, and everybody hard at work.

The Princess, astonished at this sight, asked the men for whom they were working.

"For the Prince Tufty Riquet," answered the head cook, "for to-morrow is his wedding day."

The Princess, more surprised than ever, all at once recollected that it was just a year ago that very day that she had promised to marry the ugly Tufty Riquet.

The reason that she had not remembered her promise before was that she was foolish when she made it, and in becoming clever she had forgotten all her former stupidities.

She had only walked on a few steps further, when Riquet appeared before her, magnificently clad, as a Prince about to marry.

"Here you see me, madam," said he, "keeping my word, and I have no doubt that you also came here to keep yours, and by giving me your hand to make me the happiest of men."

"I frankly confess," replied the Princess, "that I have not yet made up my mind, and I do not think I can ever do as you wish."

"You surprise me, madam," said Riquet.

"I can quite believe that," said the Princess, "and if you were not a good and clever man, I should not know how to act. But you are well aware that it was when I was stupid I promised to marry you, but now, as you may imagine, I am not so easily pleased."

"Except for my ugliness," said Riquet, "have you anything against me? Do you object to my birth, my character, or my manners?"

"Not at all," replied the Princess, "I love those things in you."

"If that is so," answered Riquet, "I shall indeed be made happy, because you can cause me to become the most delightful of men if only you will desire it. For know, madam, the same fairy who at my birth gave me the power to impart cleverness to whomsoever I should love, gave you a gift also, that of being able to render beautiful the one to whom you would grant this favour."

"If that is the case," exclaimed the Princess, "I desire with all my heart that you might be the most handsome and pleasing Prince in the world."

No sooner had the Princess uttered these words than her wish was fulfilled, though some say that no change really took place in Riquet, but that the Princess loved him now so much that all his ugliness was seen as beauty by her eyes.

However that may be, she straightway consented to be his bride, and, as the preparations had already been made, the wedding took place the very next day.

THUMBLING

There was once a poor woodman sitting by the fire in his cottage and his wife sat by his side spinning. "How lonely it is," said he, "for you and me to sit here by ourselves without any children to play about and amuse us, while other people seem so happy and merry with their children!" "What you say is very true," said the wife, sighing, and turning her wheel; "how happy should I be if I had but one child! and if it were ever so small, nay, if it were no bigger than my thumb, I should be very happy, and love it dearly." Now it came to pass that this good woman's wish was fulfilled just as she desired; for, some time afterwards, she had a little boy, who was quite healthy and strong, but not much bigger than my thumb. So they said, "Well, we cannot say we have not got what we wished for, and, little as he is, we will love him dearly;" and they called him Thumbling.

They gave him plenty of food, yet he never grew bigger, but remained just the same size as when he was born; still, his eyes were sharp and sparkling and he soon showed himself to be a clever little fellow, who always knew well what he was about. One day, as the woodman was getting ready to go into the wood to cut fuel, he said, "I wish I had some one to bring the cart after me, for I want to make haste." "Oh, father!" cried Thumbling, "I will take care of that; the cart shall be in the wood by the time you want it." Then the woodman laughed and said, "How can that be? You cannot reach up to the horse's bridle." "Never mind that, father," said Thumbling; "if my mother will only harness the horse, I will get into his ear, and tell him which way to go." "Well," said the father, "we will try for once."

When the time came, the mother harnessed the horse to the cart, and put Thumbling into its ear; and as he sat there, the little man told the beast how to go, crying out, "Go on," and "Stop," as he wanted; so the horse went on just as if the woodman had driven it himself into the wood. It happened that, as the horse was going a little too fast, and Thumbling was calling out "Gently, gently!" two strangers came up. "What an odd thing that is!" said one, "there is a cart going along, and I heard a carter talking to the horse but can see no one." "That is strange," said the other; "let us follow the cart and see where it goes." So they went on into the wood, till at last they came to the place where the woodman was. Then Thumbling, seeing his father, cried out, "See, father, here I am, with the cart, all right and safe; now take me down." So his father took hold of the horse with one hand, and with the other took his son out of the ear; then he put him down upon a straw, where he sat as merry as you please. The two strangers were all this time looking on, and did not know what to say for wonder. At last one took the other aside and said, "That little urchin will make our fortune if we can get him, and carry him about from town to town as a show; we must buy him." So they went to the woodman and asked him what he would take for the little man: "He will be better off," said they, "with us than with you." "I won't sell him at all," said the father, "my own flesh and blood is dearer to me than all the silver and gold in the world." But Thumbling, hearing of the bargain they wanted to make, crept up his father's coat to his shoulder, and whispered in his ear, "Take the money, father, and let them have me; I'll soon come back to you."