"After me?"
"Yes, certainly, after you."
"Madame, I do not understand you. I do not wish to understand."
"It is very simple; how can I hope to find another like you, who will marry me so willingly? Ah, no, such men are rare!"
"How, madame, after me?" cried Croustillac, overcome by this idea. "You dream, then, of a successor to me?"
"Yes, friend," replied the widow, with the most touchingly sentimental air imaginable; "yes, for when you are no more I must renew my quest, seek, ask, and find a fifth husband. Think, then, of the difficulties and obstacles to overcome. Perhaps I shall not succeed. Think, then, a widow for the fourth time. You forget that; it is a fact, however; my friend, after you, I shall be a widow for the fourth time."
"I do not forget it at all, madame," said Croustillac, whose ardor became somewhat chilled, and began to ask himself if this affair was not madness. "I shall not forget, certainly, in case I have the honor of marrying you, that you will be for the fourth time a widow if you lose me; but it appears you place a rather short period to my love."
"Alas! yes, my friend," said the widow, in a tender voice, "one year, and a year is very short. A year! it passes so quickly when one loves," continued she, casting the glance of a perfect assassin at him.
"A year, madame," cried the chevalier. But then, believing that the words of Blue Beard hid perhaps a test, that she wished possibly to judge of his courage, he added in a chivalrous tone, "Ah, well, so be it, madame; whether my happiness last but a year, a day, an hour, a minute—it matters not; I will brave all, if only I can say that I have been fortunate enough to obtain your hand."
"You are a true knight," said the widow, charmed. "I expected no less of you. That is agreed; only I must forewarn my little Rendsoul, for form's sake, understand, for married or not I shall always be to him what I have been."