sult, apparently satisfied and reassured, for, little by
little, her brow cleared, and the smile again came to her lips. "Come,
brave knight," said she gayly to the chevalier, "do not be afraid of me
any more; do not take me for the devil; and do honor to the modest
supper that a poor widow is only too happy to offer you."

So saying, she graciously offered her hand to Croustillac. The supper
was served with a sumptuousness, a refinement, which left no doubt in
the chevalier's mind as to the enormous fortune of the widow. Only, we
would say to the reader that the silver-gilt service was not engraved
with the royal arms of England, as were the objects which were placed
only before Blue Beard.

In spite of the sprightliness and ideal grace of the widow, in spite of
the witty sallies of the buccaneer, the supper was a gloomy one for
Croustillac. His habitual assurance had given place to a kind of vague
inquietude. The more charming Angela seemed to him, the more she
exercised her fascinations, the greater the luxury which surrounded her,
the more the adventurer found his distrust increased. In spite of their
absurdity, the strange tales of the buccaneer kept returning to the
remembrance of the chevalier--both the tale of the gray powder which
caused one to die of laughter, and the liquid in the ruby flask which
changed the eyes into brilliant lamps. While these recitals might not be
more real than a bad dream past--the Gascon, from dread of some infernal
dish, could not prevent himself from distrust of the viands and wines
with which he was served. He observed the widow and the buccaneer
closely; their manners were perfectly correct. Rendsoul bore himself
toward Blue Beard with the proper degree of familiarity which a husband
displays toward his wife before a stranger. "But then," the chevalier
asked himself, "how does this reserve accord with the cynicism of the
widow, who declared so cavalierly that the Caribbean and the filibuster
shared her good graces with the buccaneer, without the latter being
jealous in the slightest degree?" The Gascon asked himself still further
what could be the object of Blue Beard in offering her hand to him, and
what price she would put upon this union. He was too clear-sighted not
to have noticed the lively emotion, sincere on the part of the widow,
when she showed such indignation that the adventurer should believe her
capable of playing a comedy in offering her hand. On this point
Crousti