n up in crescents along his temples. He had pink cotton in
his ears. He was smooth shaven and looked like a pious but convivial
notary. But his quick, calculating eye belied his jovial and sugary
mien. One divined in his look the cool, unscrupulous man of affairs,
capable, for all his honeyed ways, of doing one a bad turn.

"He must be aching to throw me into the street," said Durtal to
himself, "because he certainly knows all about his wife's goings-on."

But if Chantelouve wished to be rid of his guest he did not show it.
With his legs crossed and his hands folded one over the other, in the
attitude of a priest, he appeared to be mightily interested in Durtal's
work. Inclining a little, listening as if in a theatre, he said, "Yes, I
know the material on the subject. I read a book some time ago about
Gilles de Rais which seemed to me well handled. It was by abbe Bossard."

"It is the most complete and reliable of the biographies of the
Marshal."

"But," Chantelouve went on, "there is one point which I never have been
able to understand. I have never been able to explain to myself why the
name Bluebeard should have been attached to the Marshal, whose history
certainly has no relation to the tale of the good Perrault."

"As a matter of fact the real Bluebeard was not Gilles de Rais, but
probably a Breton king, Comor, a fragment of whose castle, dating from
the sixth century, is still standing, on the confines of the forest of
Carnoet. The legend is simple. The king asked Guerock, count of Vannes,
for the hand of his daughter, Triphine. Guerock refused, because he had
heard that the king maintained himself in a constant state of
widowerhood by cutting his wives' throats. Finally Saint Gildas promised
Guerock to return his daughter to him safe and sound when he should
reclaim her, and the union was celebrated.

"Some months later Triphine learned that Comor did indeed kill his
consorts as soon as they became pregnant. She was big with child, so she
fled, but her husband pursued her and cut her throat. The weeping father
commanded Saint Gildas to keep his promise, and the Saint resuscitated
Triphine.

"As you see, this legend comes much nearer than the history of our
Bluebeard to the told tale arranged by the ingenious Perrault. Now, why
and how the name Bluebeard passed from King Comor to the Marshal de
Rais, I cannot tell. You know what pranks oral tradition can play."

"But with your Gilles de Rais you must have