Poor Tyltyl was quite as much terrified as Mytyl, but at each trial, his will and courage were becoming greater; he was learning to master himself; and nothing could induce him to fail in his mission. The eleventh stroke rang out.
“The hour is passing!” he exclaimed. “It is time!”
And releasing himself resolutely from Mytyl’s arms, he turned the diamond. …
A moment of terrible silence followed for the poor little children. Then they saw the crosses totter, the mounds open, the slabs rise up. …
Mytyl hid her face against Tyltyl’s chest:
“They’re coming out!” she cried. “They’re there! … They’re there! …”
The agony was more than the plucky little fellow could endure. He shut his eyes and only kept himself from fainting by leaning against a tree beside him. He remained like that for a minute that seemed to him like a century, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. Then he heard birds singing; a warm and scented breeze fanned his face; and, on his hands, on his neck, he felt the soft heat of the balmy summer sun. Now quite reassured, but unable to believe in so great a miracle, he opened his eyes and at once began to shout with happiness and admiration.
From all the open tombs came thousands of splendid flowers. They spread everywhere, on the paths, on the trees, on the grass; and they went up and up until it seemed that they would touch the sky. They were great full-blown roses, showing their hearts, wonderful golden hearts from which came the hot, bright rays which had wrapped Tyltyl in that summer warmth. Round the roses, birds sang and bees buzzed gaily.
“I can’t believe it! It’s not possible!” said Tyltyl. “What has become of the tombs and the stone crosses?”
Dazzled and bewildered, the two children walked hand in hand through the graveyard, of which not a trace remained, for there was nothing but a wonderful garden on every side. They were as glad and happy as could be, after their terrible fright. They had thought that ugly skeletons would rise from the earth and run after them, pulling horrid faces; they had imagined all sorts of awful things. And now, in the presence of the truth, they saw that all that they had been told was a great big story and that Death does not exist. They saw that there are no Dead and that Life goes on always, always, but under fresh forms. The fading rose sheds its pollen, which gives birth to other roses, and its scattered petals scent the air. The fruits come when the blossoms fall from the trees; and the dingy, hairy caterpillar turns into a brilliant butterfly. Nothing perishes … there are only changes. …
Beautiful birds circled all round Tyltyl and Mytyl. There were no blue ones among them, but the two Children were so glad of their discovery that they asked for nothing more. Astonished and delighted, they kept on repeating:
“There are no Dead! … There are no Dead! …”
VIII
The Forest
As soon as Tyltyl and Mytyl were in bed, Light kissed them and faded away at once, so as not to disturb their sleep with the rays that always streamed from her beautiful self.
It must have been about midnight, when Tyltyl, who was dreaming of the little Blue Children, felt a soft velvet paw pass to and fro over his face. He was surprised and sat up in bed in a bit of a fright; but he was soon reassured when he saw his friend Tylette’s glowing eyes glittering in the dark.
“Hush!” said the Cat in his ear. “Hush! Don’t wake anybody. If we can arrange to slip out without being seen, we shall catch the Blue Bird tonight. I have risked my life, O my dearest master, in preparing a plan which will certainly lead us to victory!”
“But,” said the boy, kissing Tylette, “Light would be so glad to help us … and besides I should be ashamed to disobey her. …”
“If you tell her,” said the Cat, sharply, “all is lost, believe me. Do as I say; and the day is ours.”
As she spoke these words, she hastened to dress him and also Mytyl, who had heard a noise and was asking to go with them.
“You don’t understand,” groaned Tyltyl. “You are too small: you don’t know what a wicked thing we are doing. …”
But the treacherous Cat answered all his arguments, saying that the reason why he had not found the Blue Bird so far was just the fault of Light, who always brought brightness with her. Let the Children only go hunting by themselves, in the dark, and they would soon find all the Blue Birds that make men’s happiness. The traitress displayed such cleverness that, before long, Tyltyl’s disobedience became a very fine thing in his own eyes. Each of Tylette’s words provided a good excuse for his action or adorned it with a generous thought. He was too weak to set his will against trickery, allowed himself to be persuaded and walked out of the temple with a firm and cheerful step. Poor little fellow: if he could only have foreseen the terrible trap that awaited him!
Our three companions set out across the fields in the white light of the moon. The Cat seemed greatly excited, did nothing but talk and went so fast that the children were hardly able to keep up with her:
“This time,” she declared, “we shall have the Blue Bird, I am sure of it! I asked all the Trees in the very oldest forest; they know him, because he hides among them. Then, in order to have everybody there, I sent the Rabbit to beat the assembly and call the principal Animals in the country.”
They reached the edge of the dark forest in an hour’s time. Then, at a turn in the road, they saw, in the distance, someone who seemed to be hurrying towards them. Tylette arched her back: she felt that it was her old time enemy. She
