An aged Breton couple had two sons, the elder of whom went to Paris to seek his fortune, while the younger one was timid by nature and would not leave the paternal roof. His mother, who felt the burden of her age, wished the stay-at-home to marry. At first he would not hear of the idea, but at last, persuaded by her, he took a wife. He had only been married a few weeks, however, when his young bride sickened and died. La Rose, for such was his name, was inconsolable. Every evening he went to the cemetery where his wife was buried, and wept over her tomb.
One night he was about to enter the graveyard on his sad errand when he beheld a terrible phantom standing before him, which asked him in awful tones what he did there.
“I am going to pray at the tomb of my wife,” replied the terrified La Rose.
“Do you wish that she were alive again?” asked the spirit.
“Ah, yes!” cried the sorrowing husband. “There is nothing that I would not do in order that she might be restored to me.”
“Hearken, then,” said the phantom. “Return to this place to-morrow night at the same hour. Provide yourself with a pick and you will see what comes to pass.”
On the following night the young widower was punctually at the rendezvous. The phantom presented itself before him and said:
“Go to the tomb of your wife and strike it with your pick; the earth will turn aside and you will behold her lying in her shroud. Take this little silver box, which contains a rose; open it and pass it before her nostrils three times, when she will awake as if from a deep sleep.”
La Rose hastened to the tomb of his wife, and everything happened as the phantom had predicted. He placed the box containing the rose to his wife’s nostrils and she awoke with a sigh, saying: “Ah, I have been asleep for a long time.” Her husband provided her with clothes which he had brought with him, and they returned to their house, much to the joy of his parents.