But this is not much comfort. There is not, it is true, a sum of
multiplication; but there is the sum of addition. And that addition--the
multitude man by man--the War Lord has to reckon with: Frederick the
Great with his men, Napoleon with his, the German Emperor with his--each
one of the innumerable unknown knowing his destroyer.
ALICE MEYNELL.
[Illustration: "Mais quand la voix de Dieu l'appela il se voyait seul
sur la terre au milieu de fantomes tristes et sans nombre."]
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BLUEBEARD'S CHAMBER
The Committee of Enquiry, like another Portia, clothed in the
ermine-trimmed robe of Justice and the Law, has unlocked with the key of
Truth the door of the closed chamber. The key lies behind her inscribed
in Dutch with the name that tells its nature. The Committee then pulls
back the curtain, and reveals the horrors that are behind it. Before the
curtain is fully drawn back, Enquiry sinks almost in collapse at the
terrible sight that is disclosed. There hang to pegs on the wall the
bodies of Bluebeard's victims, a woman, an old man, a priest, two boys,
and a girl still half hidden behind the curtain. The blood that has
trickled from them coagulates in pools on the ground.
Bluebeard himself comes suddenly: he hurries down the steps brandishing
his curved sword, a big, burly figure, with square, thick beard, and
streaming whiskers, wearing a Prussian helmet, his mouth open to utter a
roar of rage and fury.
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