At first she could distinguish nothing, for the windows were closed; in a few minutes, however, she began to see that the floor was covered with blood, in which was reflected the bodies of several dead women hanging on the walls. These were all the wives of Blue Beard, who had killed them one after another. She was ready to die with fright, and the key, which she had taken out of the lock, fell from her hand. After recovering her senses a little, she picked up the key, locked the door again, and went up to her room to try and compose herself; but she found it impossible to quiet her agitation. She now perceived that the key of the closet was stained with blood; she wiped it two or three times, but the blood would not come off. In vain she washed it, and even scrubbed it with sand and free-stone, the stain was still there, for the key was an enchanted one, and there were no means of cleaning it completely; when the blood was washed off one side, it came back on the other. Blue Beard returned that very evening, and said that he had received letters on the road, telling him that the business on which he was going had been settled to his advantage. His wife did all she could to make him believe that she was delighted at his speedy return. The next morning he asked her for his keys again; she gave them to him; but her hand trembled so, that he had not much difficulty in guessing what had happened. "How comes it," said he, "that the key of the closet is not with the others?" "I must have left it," she replied, "upstairs on my table." "Fail not," said Blue Beard, "to give it me presently." After several excuses, she was obliged to go and fetch the key. Blue Beard having examined it, said to his wife, "Why is there blood on this key?" "I don't know," answered the poor wife, paler than death. "You don't know!" rejoined Blue Beard; "I know well enough. You must needs go into the closet. Well, madam, you shall go in again, and take your place among the ladies you saw there." She flung herself at her husband's feet, weeping and begging his pardon, with all the signs of a true repentance at having disobeyed him. Her beauty and sorrow might have melted a rock, but Blue Beard had a heart harder than rock. "You must die, madam," said he, "and at once." "If I must die," she replied, looking at him with streaming eyes, "give me a little time to say my prayers." "I give you half a quarter of an hour," answered Blue Beard, "not a minute more." As soon as she found herself alone, she called her sister, and said to her, "Sister Anne"--for so she was named--"go up, I pray you, to the top of the tower, and see if my brothers are not in sight. They promised they would come to visit me to-day, and if you see them, sign to them to make haste."