When she dared delay no longer she went to her husband and surrendered the key, and he immediately demanded the cause of the stain on it. She hesitated, at a loss what reply to make, and he shouted: “But why need I ask? I know the meaning of it right well. You have disobeyed my commands and have been into the room I ordered you not to enter. So you shall go in again, madam, but you will never return. You shall take your place among the ladies you saw there.”
Fatima fell on her knees at his feet weeping and begging for mercy, but the cruel man had a heart like a stone, and he bade her prepare for death. “Since I must die,” said she, “at least grant me a little time to say my prayers.”
“I give you ten minutes,” said Bluebeard, “and not one moment more.”
Poor Fatima hastened to a little turret chamber whither her sister had fled in terror and grief. “Sister Anne,” she said, “go up to the top of the tower and see if our brothers are coming. They promised to visit me today; and if they should be in sight beckon them to come quickly.”
So the sister climbed the narrow staircase that led to the top of the tower, and no sooner was she there than Fatima called from below, “Anne, sister Anne, do you see anyone coming?”
Anne replied sadly, “I see nothing but the sun shining and the grass growing tall and green.”
Several times Fatima asked the same question and received the same answer.
Meanwhile Bluebeard was waiting with a mighty cimeter in one hand and his watch in the other. At length he shouted in a great voice, “Come down, or I shall go up and fetch you.”
“Anne, sister Anne,” Fatima called softly, “look again. Is there no one on the road?”
“I see a cloud of dust rising in the distance,” Anne answered.