“Do not open that one!” said Night, in awestruck tones.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not allowed!”
“Then it’s here that the Blue Bird is hidden!”
“Go no farther, do not tempt fate, do not open that door!”
“But why?” again asked Tyltyl, obstinately.
Thereupon, Night, irritated by his persistency, flew into a rage, hurled the most terrible threats at him, and ended by saying:
“Not one of those who have opened it, were it but by a hair’s breadth, has ever returned alive to the light of day! It means certain death; and all the horrors, all the terrors, all the fears of which men speak on earth are as nothing compared with those which await you if you insist on touching that door!”
“Don’t do it, master dear!” said Bread, with chattering teeth. “Don’t do it! Take pity on us! I implore you on my knees!”
“You are sacrificing the lives of all of us,” mewed the Cat.
“I won’t! I shan’t!” sobbed Mytyl.
“Pity! Pity!” whined Sugar, wringing his fingers.
All of them were weeping and crying, all of them crowded round Tyltyl. Dear Tylô alone, who respected his little master’s wishes, dared not speak a word, though he fully believed that his last hour had come. Two big tears rolled down his cheeks; and he licked Tyltyl’s hands in despair. It was really a most touching scene; and for a moment, our hero hesitated. His heart beat wildly, his throat was parched with anguish, he tried to speak and could not get out a sound: besides, he did not wish to show weakness in the presence of his hapless companions!
“If I have not the strength to fulfil my task,” he said to himself, “who will fulfil it? If my friends behold my distress, it is all up with me: they will not let me go through with my mission and I shall never find the Blue Bird!”
At this thought, the boy’s heart leaped within his breast and all his generous nature rose in rebellion. It would never do to be, perhaps, within arm’s length of happiness and not to try for it, at the risk of dying in the attempt, to try for it and hand it over at last to all mankind!
That settled it! Tyltyl resolved to sacrifice himself. Like a true hero, he brandished the heavy golden key and cried:
“I must open the door!”
He ran up to the great door, with Tylô panting by his side. The poor Dog was half-dead with fright, but his pride and his devotion to Tyltyl obliged him to smother his fears:
“I shall stay,” he said to his master, “I’m not afraid! I shall stay with my little god!”
In the meantime, all the others had fled. Bread was crumbling to bits behind a pillar; Sugar was melting in a corner with Mytyl in his arms; Night and the Cat, both shaking with fury, kept to the far end of the hall.
Then Tyltyl gave Tylô a last kiss, pressed him to his heart and, with never a tremble, put the key in the lock. Yells of terror came from all the corners of the hall, where the runaways had taken shelter, while the two leaves of the great door opened by magic in front of our little friend, who was struck dumb with admiration and delight. What an exquisite surprise! A wonderful garden lay before him, a dream-garden filled with flowers that shone like stars, waterfalls that came rushing from the sky and trees which the moon had clothed in silver. And then there was something whirling like a blue cloud among the clusters of roses. Tyltyl rubbed his eyes; he could not believe his senses. He waited, looked again and then dashed into the garden, shouting like mad:
“Come quickly! … Come quickly! … They are here! … We have them at last! … Millions of blue birds! … Thousands of millions! … Come, Mytyl! … Come, Tylô! … Come, all! … Help me! … You can catch them by handfuls! …”
Reassured at last, his friends came running up and all darted in among the birds, seeing who could catch the most:
“I’ve caught seven already!” cried Mytyl. “I can’t hold them!”
“Nor can I!” said Tyltyl. “I have too many of them! … They’re escaping from my arms! … Tylô has some too! … Let us go out, let us go! … Light is waiting for us! … How pleased she will be! … This way, this way! …”
And they all danced and scampered away in their glee, singing songs of triumph as they went.
Night and the Cat, who had not shared in the general rejoicing, crept back anxiously to the great door; and Night whimpered:
“Haven’t they got him? …”
“No,” said the Cat, who saw the real Blue Bird perched high up on a moonbeam. … “They could not reach him, he kept too high. …”
Our friends in all haste ran up the numberless stairs between them and the daylight. Each of them hugged the birds which he had captured, never dreaming that every step which brought them nearer to the light was fatal to the poor things, so that, by the time they came to the top of the staircase, they were carrying nothing but dead birds.
Light was waiting for them anxiously:
“Well, have you caught him?” she asked.
“Yes, yes!” said Tyltyl. “Lots of them! There are thousands! Look!”
As he spoke, he held out the dear birds to her and saw, to his dismay, that they were nothing more than lifeless corpses: their poor little wings were broken and their heads drooped sadly from their necks! The boy, in his despair, turned to his companions. Alas, they too were hugging nothing but dead birds!
Then Tyltyl threw himself sobbing into Light’s arms. Once more, all his hopes were dashed to the ground.
“Do not cry, my child,” said Light. “You did not catch the one that is able to live in broad daylight. … We shall find him yet. …”
“Of course, we shall find him,” said Bread and Sugar, with one voice.
They were great boobies, both of them; but they wanted to console the boy. As for friend Tylô, he
