Lucia amused herself very well at first with various occupations and amusements the palace afforded, and which were new to her; but as the days fled by she began to grow weary, and at last, from being tired and out of spirits with her loneliness, she became possessed with so intense a curiosity to see what lay hid behind the adamant door, that she could not resist it.
Accordingly she went down at last, with the bunch of keys in her hand, and with trembling steps made her way up to it. But, without even trying one of the keys, she found her touch pushed it open, and made the terrible discovery, that it was the gate of hell! She turned to escape, and rushed back to her apartment, to weep bitterly over her forlorn condition.
Two or three days later a train of waggons came laden with beautiful presents Luxehale had bought and sent home to amuse her, and she became so interested in turning them all over, that when he returned she was as bright and smiling as if nothing had happened.
Luxehale ran to embrace her, but suddenly observed that the rose had withered on her bosom! When he saw that, he pushed her from him. He had given it to her as a test to ascertain whether she had gone through the adamant door, for the heat of the fire was sure to tarnish it—and now he knew she was in possession of his secret.
“You have opened the adamant door!” he exclaimed, fiercely; and she, seeing him so fierce, thought it better to deny it.
“It is useless to deny it,” he replied; “for nothing else would have tarnished that rose.” And saying that, he dragged her down to it and thrust her within its enclosure, saying, “You wanted to know what there was behind the adamant door; now you will know all about it.”
Luxehale now had to look out for another wife. He at once bethought him of Lucia’s sisters, and went pacing up and down under their garden, as before. The two sisters were talking with some warmth.
“I don’t see why father should have forbidden us to look through the trellis!” said the voice which had spoken first on the former occasion.
“Nor I,” said the other. “And I don’t mean to be kept in in that style either,” said the other.