Time went on. Captain Daniel was never tired of praising the wonderful talents of the chevalier, in whom he discovered new treasures of sleight-of-hand each day. Croustillac had finished by putting into his mouth the ends of burning candles, and by swallowing forks. This last feat had carried the captain beyond bounds of enthusiasm; he formally offered the Gascon a situation for life on board ship if the chevalier would promise to charm thus agreeably the tedium of the voyages of the Unicorn.
We would say here, in order to explain the success of Croustillac, that at sea the hours seem very long; the slightest distractions are precious, and one is very glad to have always at one's beck and call a species of buffoon endowed with imperturbable good humor. As to the chevalier, he hid under a laughing and careless mask, a sad preoccupation; the end of his journey drew near; the words of Father Griffen had been too sensible, too sincere, too just not to strongly impress our adventurer, who had counted upon passing a joyous life at the expense of the colonists. The coldness with which many of the passengers, returning to Martinique, treated him, completed the ruin of his hopes. In spite of the talents which he developed and which amused them, none of these colonists made the slightest advance to the chevalier, although he repeatedly declared he would be delighted to make a long exploration into the interior of the island.
The end of the voyage came; the last illusions of Croustillac were destroyed; he saw himself reduced to the deplorable alternative of forever traversing the ocean with Captain Daniel, or of returning to France to encounter the rigors of the law. Chance suddenly offered to the chevalier the most dazzling mirage, and awakened in him the maddest hopes.
The Unicorn was not more than two hundred leagues from Martinique when they met a French trading vessel coming from that island and sailing for France. This vessel lay to and sent a boat to the Unicorn for news from Europe. In the colonies all was well for some weeks past; not a single English man-of-war had been seen. After exchanging other news, the two vessels separated.
"For a vessel of such value (the passengers had estimated her worth at about four hundred thousand francs) she is not very well armed," said the chevalier, "and would be a good prize for the English."
"Bah!" returned a passenger with an envious air, "Blue Beard can afford to lose such a vessel as that."
"Yes, truly; there would still remain enough money to buy and arm others."
"Twenty such, if she desired," said the captain.
"Oh, twenty, that is a good many," said another.
"Faith, without counting her magnificent plantation at Anse aux Sables, and her mysterious house at Devil's Cliff," returned a third, "do they not say she has five or six millions of gold and precious stones hidden somewhere?"
"Ah, there it is! hidden no one knows where!" exclaimed Captain Daniel; "but one thing sure, she has them, for I have it from old father 'Wide-awake,' who had once seen Blue Beard's first husband at Devil's Cliff (which husband, they say, was young and handsome as an angel). I have it from Wide-awake that Blue Beard on this day amused herself by measuring in a bowl, diamonds, pearls and emeralds; now, all these riches are still in her possession, without counting that her third and last husband, as they say, was very rich, and that all his fortune was in gold dust."
"People say she is so avaricious that she expends for herself and household only ten thousand francs a year," continued a passenger.
"As to that, it is not certain," said Captain Daniel; "no one knows how she lives, because she is a stranger in the colony, and not four persons have ever put their feet inside Devil's Cliff."
"Truly; and lucky it is so; I am not the one who would have the curiosity to go there," said another; "Devil's Cliff does not enjoy a very good reputation; they do say that strange things take place there."
"It is certain that it has been struck by lightning three times."
"That does not surprise me; and strange cries, they say, are heard round the house."
"It is said that it is built like a fortress, inaccessible, among the rocks of the Cabesterre."
"That is natural if Blue Beard has so great a treasure to guard."
Croustillac heard this conversation with great curiosity. These treasures, these diamonds, were pictured in his imagination.
"Of whom do you speak, gentlemen?" he said.
"We are speaking of Blue Beard."
"Who is this Blue Beard?"
"Blue Beard? Well, it is – Blue Beard."
"But is this a man or a woman?" said the chevalier.
"Blue Beard?"
"Yes, yes," said Croustillac impatiently.
"'Tis a woman."
"How, a woman? and why, then, call her Blue Beard?"
"Because she gets rid of her husbands as easily as Blue Beard of the old story got rid of his wives."
"And she is a widow? She is a widow! Oh," cried the chevalier, clapping his hands while his heart beat rapidly, "a widow! rich beyond belief; rich enough to make one dizzy only to try to estimate her wealth – a widow!"
"A widow; so much of a widow that she is such for a third time in three years," said the captain.
"And is she as rich as they say?"
"Yes, that is conceded; all the world knows it," replied the captain.
"Worth millions; rich enough to fit out vessels worth four hundred thousand livres; rich enough to have sacks of diamonds and emeralds and fine pearls!" cried the Gascon, whose eyes sparkled and nostrils dilated, while his hands clinched.
"But I tell you that she is rich enough to buy Martinique and Guadeloupe if she were so pleased," said the captain.
"And old? very old?" asked the Gascon, uneasily.
His informer looked at the other passengers with a questioning air. "What age should you say Blue Beard was?"
"Faith, I do not know," said one.
"All I know," said another, "is that when I came to the colony two years ago she had already had her second husband, and had a third in view, who only lived a year."
"As to her third husband, it is said that he is not dead, but has disappeared," said a third.
"He is certainly dead, however, because Blue Beard has been seen wearing a widow's garb," said a passenger.
"No doubt, no doubt," continued another; "the proof that he is dead is that the parish priest of Macouba was instructed, in the absence of Father Griffen, to say the mass for the dead, for him."
"And it would not be surprising if he had been assassinated," said another.
"Assassinated? by his wife, no doubt?" said still another voice with an emphasis that spoke little in favor of Blue Beard.
"Not by his wife!"
"Ah, ah, that is something new!"
"Not by his wife? and by whom, then?"
"By his enemies in the Barbadoes."
"By the English colonists?"
"Yes, by the English, because he was himself English."
"Is it so, then, sir; the third husband is dead, really dead?" asked the chevalier anxiously.
"Oh, as to being dead – he is that," exclaimed several in chorus.
Croustillac drew a long breath;