A day had passed--a long, long, dreary day, and a weary, weary night--
during which I kept on starting up from sleep to think that I heard a
voice whispering the word "Come!"
Come, come, come--ah! the number of times I seemed to hear that word,
and sat up in bed, pressing my hair from my ears to listen, to lie down
again with a sigh--for it was only fancy. How could I go? What could I
do? I dare not try to meet him, even though I had vowed that I would.
I kept calling myself coward, but that was of no use, for I only owned
to it and made no reply; though towards morning, after I had been
picturing to myself his weary form leaning watchingly against a tree for
hours, and then seemed to see him slowly going disappointed away, I made
another vow that, come another night, spite of cowardice and anything
else, I would go.
And then, while I lay thinking of how shocking it would be, and all that
sort of thing, I dropped off asleep to be awakened by a curious buzzing
noise, which was Patty Smith humming a tune--like some horrible great
bluebottle--as she was dressing, for the bell had rung some time before.
And now the next night had come. It was so hot that I could scarcely
breathe, and the tiresome moon would shine so dreadfully bright that it
was like a great, round eye peering between the edge of the blind and
the window-frame to watch my proceedings. Clara was soon in bed, and
breathing hard; while as for Patty Smith, she snored to that degree that
I quite shivered. It must have been her snoring that made me shiver,
for as to what I was about to venture, now that I could feel my mind
fully made up, I was quite bold, though my heart would beat so loudly
that it went "thump, thump," under the heavy clothes. I had hurried
upstairs first, and was lying in bed quite dressed, though I lay
wondering whether those two would notice that my clothes were not there
by the bedside. I thought it would never be twelve o'clock, and I tried
to think what Achille would be doing. It was so romantic, now that I
had passed the first feeling of dread, and seemed so much nicer than
sitting up in bed in the dark to have a supper of cakes, sweets, and
apples, as we used to at the old school when I was young. Ah, yes, when
I was young!--for I felt old now. In another hour I should be down in
the side walk, where the wall skirted the road. But suppose I were
heard upon the stairs, or opening the side door, or Clara should wake,
or--
"Oh, you goose!" I exclaimed at last; "pray don't go if you are so much
afraid."
But really it was enough to make any maiden's heart beat.
I had changed his note about from place to place, for I could not part
with it, and I sighed at the very idea of locking it up in my box with
the others; but I had it now, and I could feel the sharp corner prick
every time I moved. I knew it every word by heart, down even to where
it said, "Thine for ever;" and as I whispered it over to myself, I grew
more and more excited, and longed for the time to slip by faster.
At last, when it seemed as though it would never come, I heard the
church clock faintly striking twelve; and then I shivered again horribly
with that dreadful Patty's snoring, for it was not likely I should have
any foolish fancies about witching hours of midnight, or anything of
that kind; and then I softly glided out of bed, and stood quite still
for nearly five minutes, when, all remaining quiet, and the breathing of
Clara and Patty sounding regular, I stepped on one side of the bright
pathway made by the moonbeams, made my way to the door, and gently
turned the handle.
I never knew that door to be so noisy before, and I now really trembled;
for, as the tiresome thing creaked, I could hear either Clara or Patty
turn in bed, and I stopped quite short, expecting every moment to hear
my name pronounced. But no--all was silence and snore. I gently closed
the door after me, and stood in the dark passage, with my heart almost
failing; for I hardly dared stir a step farther, knowing, as I did, that
in the next room slept the Fraulein, while the other two Graces were
only a few steps farther down the passage. Somebody was breathing so
hard that it was almost a snore, and it was not Patty Smith now; and
more than once I was for going back, but I stole on at last, and reached
the great staircase, where the moon was shining right through the
skylight, and making queer shadows upon the wall. But I glided down,
and was nearly at the bottom, when, looking up, I felt almost ready to
sink--for, in the full glare of the moonlight, there stood a tall figure
gazing down at me.
I did not shriek, nor turn to run away, for I had self-command enough to
govern the emotions struggling for exit; though I wonder that I did not
go mad with fear from the terror which came upon me, as I saw the tall,
white figure come slowly gliding down--nearer, nearer, nearer; now in
the moonlight, now in the deep shade. Oh, it was fearful! And, after
all, to be candid, I believe the reason I did not scream out was because
I could not; for my mouth felt hot and parched, and at times my head
seemed quite to swim.
As I stood on one of the landings, and backed away from the coming
figure, I felt the door of the little room where we hung our garden hats
and mantles give way behind me, when I backed slowly in, pushed the door
softly to, and then crept tremblingly into a corner, drawing a large
shawl before me, but not without knocking down a hat from one of the
pegs, to fall with, oh! such a noise, seeing that it was only straw.
There I stood, almost without breathing, hoping that I had not been
seen, and that the figure, whatever it was, would go by.
Every second seemed turned into a minute, and at last I began to revive;
for I felt that, whatever the figure was, it had passed on; and I drew a
long breath of relief, thinking now that I must gain my own room at any
cost, and the sooner the better, for of course any meeting was quite
impossible. I was just going to sigh deeply for poor Achille, when I
felt, as it were, frozen again; for the door began to glide slowly open,
rustling softly over the carpet--for everything sounded so horribly
distinct--and there at last stood the tall white figure, while, as I
felt ready to die, I heard my name pronounced, in a low whisper,
twice,--
"Laura! Laura!"
For a moment or two I could not reply, when the call was repeated; and,
irresistibly attracted, I went slowly forward from my hiding-place, to
feel myself caught by the arm by Clara, who had been watching me.
"You cruel, wicked girl!" I exclaimed in a whisper. "How could you
frighten me so?"
"Serve you right, too, you wicked, deceitful thing," she said. "Why
could you not trust me? But I don't care. I know. I can see through
you. I know where you are going."
"That you do not," I said, boldly; for I felt cross now the fright was
over, and I could have boxed the tiresome creature's ears.
"You'd better not talk so loudly," she said with a sneer; "that is, if
you do not want Lady Blunt to hear your voice."
"There," I said, spitefully, "I thought you did not know."
"Under the tall elms by the garden wall," whispered Clara, laughing, and
translating one of the sentences in the very note I had in my breast;
and then I remembered that I had left it for about a quarter of an hour
in my morning-dress pocket, before I ran up after changing and fetched
it down; though I never should have thought she would have been so
treacherous as to read it. But there, she had me in her power, and
however much I might have felt disposed to resent her conduct, I could
do nothing then, so--
"Hush!" I said, imploringly. "Pray, do not tell, dear!"
"Ah," said the nasty, treacherous thing, "then you ought to have told
me, and trusted me with your secret. But did you think that I was
blind, Laura Bozerne, and couldn't see what was going on? And you never
to respond to my confidence, when I always trusted you from the very
first. I did think that we were friends."
"Oh, pray don't talk so," I exclaimed; "nor make so much noise, or we
shall be heard." For it was not I who spoke loudly now.
"Well, and suppose we are," she said, coolly. "I can give a good
account of my conduct, I think, Miss Bozerne."
"Oh, pray don't talk like that, dear," I said--"pray, don't." And then,
feeling that all dissimulation was quite useless, I cast off the
reserve, and exclaimed, catching her by both hands--"Oh, do help me,
there's a darling; for he has been waiting for two nights."
"Yes, I dare say he has," said the deceitful creature; "but I don't mean
to be mixed up with such goings on."
A nasty thing!--when I found out afterwards that she had more than once
been guilty of the same trick; and all the while professing to have
placed such confidence in me. If I had been free to act, I should have
boxed the odious thing's ears; but what could I do then, but crave and
pray and promise, and beg of her to be my friend, till she said she
would, and forgave me, as she called it; and then I watched her go
slowly upstairs till she was out of sight; for whatever she might do in
the future, she declared that she would not help me that night.
And there I stood, in a state of trembling indecision, not knowing what
to do--whether to go after her, or steal down to the side door; and at
last I did the latter, if only out of pure pity for poor Achille, and
began slowly to unfasten the bolts.
The nasty things went so hard that I broke my nails over them, while I
turned all hot and damp in the face when the cross bar slipped from my
fingers, and made such a bang that I felt sure it must have been heard
upstairs. And there I stood listening and trembling, and expecting
every moment to hear a door open and the sound of voices. It was only
the romantic excitement, or else sheer pity, which kept me from hurrying
back to my own room, to bury my sorrows in my soft pillow.
I waited quite five minutes, and then tied my handkerchief over my hat,
and raised the latch. The next moment I stood outside in the deep
shadow, with the water-butt on my right and the wash-house door on my
left; and then, with beating heart, I glided from shrub to shrub, till I
reached the wall, beneath whose shadow I made my way to the path that
runs under the tall elms, where the wall was covered with ivy.
In spite of my fluttering heart, and the knowledge I possessed of how I
was committing myself, I could not help noticing how truly beautiful
everything looked--the silvery sweet light, glancing through the trees;
the deep shadows; and, again, the bright spots where the moon shone
through the openings. And timid though I was, I could not help
recalling Romeo and Juliet, thinking what a time this was for a
love-tale, and regretting that there were no balconies at the Cedars.
Then I paused, in the shade of one of the deepest trees, holding my hand
to my side to restrain the beating of my heart, as I listened for his
footstep.
"I'll only stay with him one minute," I said to myself, "and then run in
again, like the wind."
A minute passed: no footstep. Two minutes, five, ten; and then I stole
to the end of the walk. But there was no one; and I began to tremble
with fear first, and then with excitement, and lastly with indignation;
for it seemed to me that I was deceived.
"The poor fellow must have gone back in despair, believing that I should
not come. Ah! he does not know me," I muttered at last.
"Perhaps I am too soon," I thought a few minutes later, "and he may yet
come."
For I would not let the horrible feeling of disappointment get the upper
hand. And then I crept closer to the wall, and waited, looking out from
an opening between the trees at the moonlit house, and wondering whether
Clara was yet awake.
All was still as possible. Not a sigh of the night wind, nor a
footstep, nor even the rustle of a leaf; when all at once I nearly
screamed, for there was a sharp cough just above my head. And as my
heart began to beat more and more tumultously than ever, there was a
rustling in the ivy on the top of the wall, and a dark figure leaped to
the ground, where I should have fallen had it not caught me in its arms.
I shut my eyes, as I shivered, half in fear and half with pleasure; and
then I let my forehead rest upon my hands against his manly breast--for
even in those moments of bliss the big buttons on his coat hurt my nose.
And thus we stood for some few moments, each waiting for the other to
speak; when he said, in a whisper,--"Better now?"
"Oh, yes," I replied; "but I must leave thee now. Achille, _a demain_."
"Eh?" he said, with a huskiness of tone which I attributed to emotion.
"I must leave thee now," I said. "How did you get out?" he whispered.
"By the side door," I said, trembling; for an undefined feeling of dread
was creeping over me.
"Any chance of a taste of anything?" he whispered.
"Good heavens!" I ejaculated, opening my eyes to their widest extent,
"who are you?"
And I should have turned and fled, but that he held me tightly by the
wrist.
"Well, perhaps, it don't matter who I am, and never mind about my
number," said the wretch. "I'm a pleeceman, that's what I am, county
constabulary. Will that soot yer?"
"Oh, pray release me!" I said, "oh, let me go!" I gasped; for I
thought he might not understand the first, these low men are so
ignorant. "Pray go to Monsieur de Tiraille, and he will reward you."
"That's him as I ketched atop of the wall, I suppose," said the
creature. "My, how he did cut when I showed him the bull's-eye!
Thought it was a cracking case, my dear; but I'm up to a thing or two,
and won't split. But I say, my dear, how's Ann? And so you took me for
him, did you? Well, I ain't surprised."
And then if the wretch didn't try to draw me nearer to him: but I
started back, horrified.
"Well, just as you like, you know," exclaimed the ruffian. "But, I say,
you'll let me drink your health, you know, won't you?"
"Oh, yes," I exclaimed, interpreting his speech into meaning "Give me a
shilling," which I did, and he loosed my arm.
"That's right," he said. "I thought you were a good sort. Feel better,
don't you?"
"Oh, yes," I exclaimed. "Please let me go now."
"Let you go," he said; "to be sure. I was just going to offer you my
advice, that you'd better step in before the old gal misses you. He
won't come again to-night now, I scared him too much; so ta-ta, my
dear--I won't spoil sport next time."
And then, almost before the wretch's words had left his lips, I fled,
nor ceased running until I reached the side door, which I entered,
closed, and fastened again; and then glided upstairs to my room, where
Patty still snored and Clara watched; but my acts seemed all mechanical,
and I can only well recollect one, and that was my throwing myself upon
her breast, and bursting into tears.
At last I was once more in bed, my heart still beating tumultuously; and
directly after Clara crept in to my side, when it was of no use, I could
not keep it in, for it did seem so kind and sympathising of her, though
I believe it was only to satisfy her curiosity. So I had a thorough
good cry in her arms, and told her of all the terrors of that dreadful
night; when instead of, as I expected, trying to console me, the nasty
thing had the heart to say,--
"Well, dear, it's all very fine; but I should not like to be you!"