Night again; and Achille--poor faithful, charitable, patient Achille--to
be there once more watching in the dark that one blank window, that he
hoped to see open. I could analyse his feelings as well, perhaps, as he
could mine; and how I did pity him for his many disappointments! For
nights and nights had passed without the rope ladder having been made
available. Still, though, we were hopeful, and thought of others who
had been long and patient sufferers for the same cause; while now, in
the hope of a meeting, we waited once more. All was still within doors,
and everything seemed propitious, for the night was excessively dark.
The last door had shut some time before, and within the house the only
thing stirring must have been a mouse or else, with our strained ears,
as Clara and I lay waiting, dressed in bed, we must have heard it. But
though all was so still in the house, it was not so out of doors. First
of all there was a horrible cat "tuning its lay," as Clara called it;
and then she said its lay was terribly out of tune to want so much
screwing up. Then the dog in the next yard must hear it, and begin to
resent the disturbance, and bark at the cat, till I felt sure that
pauvre Achille would not come, for the noise was dreadful--rest cat,
bark dog; rest dog, howl cat, and so on. There was the chain rattling
in and out of the kennel at a most terrible rate, while the creature
barked furiously till it was tired, without having the slightest effect
upon the cat, or cats, which kept on with the hideous howling, till the
dog, evidently worn out, went to sleep.
Oh, it was uncomfortable lying there, so hot and tired with the exertion
of dressing under the bed-clothes while lying down, so that Patty Smith
should have no suspicion of what was going on and because we thought her
awake; when, just as we had finished, she must begin to snore in the
most vulgar, horrible way imaginable.
"That nasty cat is just under our window," I whispered to Clara. "He'll
never come if there's this noise."
"I'll serve it out," whispered Clara; "only be quiet."
"What are you going to do?" I said, but she would not answer; and I
heard her get out of bed and go to the washstand, and pour ever so much
water into the basin.
"Oh, pray don't make any noise, dear. What are you going to do with
that water?"
"Wait a bit, and you'll see," she whispered, tittering; and then she
went and gently opened the window, when the noise of the nasty cat came
up worse than ever.
"You had better not throw out that water, dear," I whispered; but she
only giggled, and then I heard the water go down splash on to the gravel
walk, and directly after--
"Oh!" exclaimed Clara. As she spoke up came the sounds of the falling
basin, as it struck upon the gravel walk, and was shivered to atoms.
Then came the sound of a hurried step upon the path, the rush of a heavy
body through the shrubbery, all as plain as could be in the still night,
and I knew that Clara had very nearly thrown the basin on poor Achille's
head, and it might have killed him. When as if that was not enough to
frighten him away, there were two windows thrown open on the first
floor, and at one was Miss Furness, ringing a bell and Miss Sloman
screaming, and at the other my Lady Blunt, springing a watchman's
rattle, and making the most horrible din imaginable.
"Well, I really did not mean to do it, dear," said Clara, as coolly as
could be; "you see, the basin was soapy, and slipped."
"What did you do it at all for, when you were asked not?" I gasped
angrily; for it was really enough to drive any one out of her senses to
be disappointed like this, time after time. All I hoped was, that poor
Achille had escaped safely, and did not know from which window the
missile came; for, only fancy, he might have thought that I had thrown
it, and never forgiven me.
You never could have imagined such a disturbance to have proceeded from
so small a cause. There were doors opening and shutting, girls
screaming, bells ringing; and there we all were, at last, trembling and
shaking upon the staircase and landings--all but Patty Smith, who would
not get out of bed.
"Dere's de police!" exclaimed the Fraulein, all at once; and directly
after we could hear Mrs Blunt and Miss Furness talking to some one out
of their windows; while now there was a profound silence fallen upon the
shivering group, and I shuddered as I recognised the deep-toned voice
out of doors, and knew it to be that of one familiar with the interior
of the grounds.
"Search the garden thoroughly, policeman," cried Mrs Blunt, from one
window.
"Who's there?" squealed Miss Furness, loudly.
"Why, it's me, mum," said the policeman.
"Oh, yes--I know, my good man," said Miss Furness; "but I mean who was
out there?"
"I'm going to look, aint I?" growled the man. "But there aint nobody
out here now, even if there was at all. I aint seen anybody in the
road."
I did feel so glad to hear what he said, for I was all in a shiver lest
my poor boy should be caught.
"He's gone, mum," said the low fellow, after he had been away about five
minutes. "Aint not a soul 'cept me in the garding. What had he been up
to, mum?"
"Oh, it was a dreadful noise out there," cried Mrs Blunt, from behind
the curtains. "It sounded like some one smashing in the dining-room
windows. Pray look, policeman."
All this conversation sounded quite plain to us on the stairs, for Mrs
Blunt's door and window were both open; and then I could hear the
policeman's heavy step on the gravel, crunching and crackling as he trod
on and began kicking about the pieces of Clara's broken basin.
"Why, here's some one been shying the chayney outer window," said the
policeman. "Here's most half a wash-hand basin and a whole stodge of
bits squandered all over the gravel walk. That's what you heerd, mum.
The window is right enough."
"It did sound like that," squeaked Miss Furness.
"And that's what it was, mum, if there was none of this here out afore."
"Oh, no, my good man," cries Mrs Blunt, getting less fearful and more
dignified every moment--"the paths were quite clear this evening."
"Then it's some of your young ladies been a havin' a lark," said the low
fellow.
I turned round to whisper to Clara, but she was gone. Directly after,
though, she slipped back to my side, and I whispered to her, laying my
hand upon her arm--
"Had you not better tell? Say that it was an accident."
"Hold your tongue," she whispered, pinching me.
Then we shrank into the background, for I was afraid some one would
notice how bulky our dressing-gowns looked; for, of course, we had not
had time to undress again.
We heard the policeman promise to keep an eye on the place, and to call
in the morning. Then we heard his footsteps on the gravel, and the
pieces of china cracking, windows shut down, and orders for us to go
back to our rooms, as there was nothing to fear; when, as we were
ascending the stairs, Mrs Blunt's nightcapped head was thrust out of
the door, and we heard her exclaim--
"I'll investigate this disgraceful trick in the morning, young ladies."
I trembled for poor Clara--almost as much as I did for Achille; for it
seemed as though the poor girl was always to act as scapegoat; though,
certainly, she really deserved to be in disgrace this time, for I begged
her most earnestly not to throw out the water.
I would have given Clara half my basin with pleasure, if I could; but
then, that would have been of no service. Judge, then, of my surprise
when, after looking at Patty, fast asleep as if nothing had been the
matter, I turned to Clara's washstand, there was her basin, safe and
sound, and the jug was standing in it!
As we upon the second floor all had small washstands and jugs and basins
of the same pattern, I thought that, after all, she had taken mine; but
she had not, nor yet Patty's; and as she saw what I was looking at, she
burst out laughing, and said--
"I slipped up and into the Fraulein's room, and took hers; and now they
may find out if they can. Of course, you won't tell, darling? Promise
me that."
I felt so cross that I was ready to say I would; for I was disappointed,
and though the thoughts of the meeting had taken away my appetite, now
that it was not to be, I felt as hungry as possible. But it would have
been cruel to have said anything, so, of course, I promised.
"Another disappointment for the poor French Verb," whispered Clara,
laughing.
"For shame," I said, "to speak in so disrespectful a way."
"But it does not much matter," she said; "for he would have been afraid
to climb up, when he found out really how high it was."
"Don't talk stuff!" I said; "he would get up if it were twice as high,
for my sake. Why, look how Leander swam the Hellespont."
"And I say," cried Clara--laughing, and seeming in the highest of glee,
which was too bad--"how cold and shivering he must have been when he got
across. Bo-o-o-h?" she said, shuddering, "what a cold frog of a lover!
I shouldn't have liked that."
"No," I said, "you have no romance in your composition."
"Haven't I," she said, "you don't know; but I'm not so head over ears in
love as you are."
"Perhaps not," I said, spitefully; "because you have no chance."
"Pooh!" said Clara. "Why, I might have had Achille long before you
came, if I had liked."
"Perhaps, miss," I exclaimed, with nothing more than reasonable anger,
"the next time you mention that gentleman's name you will prefix the
Monsieur."
"Certainly, ma'am," said Clara, aggravating me with her mock courtesy.
"And whatever you do," I said, "if you must tease, tell the truth."
"That was the truth," she replied.
"Don't be such a wicked story," I exclaimed. "I don't believe it."
I could not help thinking, after, that in my childish anger I had made
use of childish language.
"I don't care what you believe, and what you don't believe," said Clara,
coolly; "and I've got--"
"If you young ladies are not silent this minute," said Miss Furness,
outside the door, "I shall be compelled to summon Mrs de Blount."
As I lay wondering whether she had heard anything of our conversation,
and what it was that Clara had got, and whether it was a letter Achille
had sent her before I came, which I did not believe, and did not much
care if he had, for he had not seen me then--Miss Furness stood
listening at the door, while Clara would not answer my whispered
questions, pretending to be offended; and I believe I heard Miss Furness
sniff out in the cold passage just as I dropped off to sleep.