A Fluttered Dovecote

by George Manville Fenn

just going to hurry off and collect a number, when clatter went thetea-bell, and we were obliged to go down.

  I could not eat any of their odious bread and butter--thick and patchy--while the tea was as weak as weak. I declare I was so nervous that Inever felt the place to be so vexatious before; and for the leastprovocation I should have burst out crying. I couldn't help there beingnothing to cry about--all I know is, that I felt in a regular cryingfit; and the more of the nasty, mawkish warm tea I drank, the worse Iwas, for it all seemed changed into tears directly, and to be floodingmy head; when, if it had been proper tea, of course my poor nerves wouldhave been solaced.

  Clara saw how put out I was, and kept treading on my foot, wanting me tolook at Mrs Blunt's front, which was all put on sideways; but I declareI could not have laughed if she had put it on backwards. Then thatstupid Miss Sloman must go, seeing that I did not eat anything, and tellMrs Blunt; and, of course, when she asked me, I was obliged to say Iwas not quite well, when the tiresome old thing must promise to send forDr Boole if I were not better in the morning. A stupid old thing: shedid not know that a dozen yards of good stout string would have made mefeel quite in ecstasy.

  Bed-time at last; and, as a matter of course, because we wanted her togo to sleep soon, Patty Smith began to write a letter home for anothercake and a bottle of currant wine; but Miss Furness must come prowlingabout and see the light, and she soon put a stop to that; when poorsimple Patty did get such a scolding that she sobbed, and cried, andboo-ood, and said it was only for a cake she was writing. Then MissFurness--a nasty, aggravating old puss--must turn round and scold Claraand me, as she said, for encouraging her, so as to get part of the cakeourselves. Couldn't I have given her a shaking, that's all! Why, itwas enough to make anyone feel vicious.

  At last, we lay there, listening to the different noises dying out inthe house; and I could do nothing but cry for poor Achille'sdisappointment--for the way to the lumber-room was through the one inwhich the cook slept, and of course it was impossible to get any cord;and I dare not throw a note out of the window to Achille, for fear thathe might not find it in the dark, and if it fell into wrong hands allwould have been made known. So there I lay, crying for some time, tillthe noises in the house one by one died out, and all was still, when Ipictured poor Achille watching and waiting, and accusing me of perfidyand cruelty, for making him come and then disappointing him--for henever would imagine that I had been stopped for want of a piece ofstring. Then came the sound of an owl, hooting and screeching as if incontempt of me for going to bed; and I declare, at last, I was about tocreep away to the empty room, and add to the poor fellow'sdisappointment by opening the window and whispering to him--though I'msure he could not have heard; when a strong feeling of stupor seemed tocreep over me--a feeling that I could not fight against--while soon allwas, as it were, a blank.

  The next morning when I talked about it to Clara, she said it showed howmuch I cared for him to fall asleep. Just as if it was sleep, and I didnot know the difference. But there, she always was so absurd! And poorAchille was disappointed, and we had to make another assignation.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

  MEMORY THE FIFTEENTH--'TWIXT CUP AND LIP.

  Night again; and Achille--poor faithful, charitable, patient Achille--tobe there once more watching in the dark that one blank window, that hehoped to see open. I could analyse his feelings as well, perhaps, as hecould mine; and how I did pity him for his many disappointments! Fornights and nights had passed without the rope ladder having been madeavailable. Still, though, we were hopeful, and thought of others whohad been long and patient sufferers for the same cause; while now, inthe 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 onlything 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. Butthough all was so still in the house, it was not so out of doors. Firstof 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 muchscrewing up. Then the dog in the next yard must hear it, and begin toresent the disturbance, and bark at the cat, till I felt sure thatpauvre Achille would not come, for the noise was dreadful--rest cat,bark dog; rest dog, howl cat, and so on. There was the chain rattlingin and out of the kennel at a most terrible rate, while the creaturebarked furiously till it was tired, without having the slightest effectupon the cat, or cats, which kept on with the hideous howling, till thedog, evidently worn out, went to sleep.

  Oh, it was uncomfortable lying there, so hot and tired with the exertionof dressing under the bed-clothes while lying down, so that Patty Smithshould have no suspicion of what was going on and because we thought herawake; when, just as we had finished, she must begin to snore in themost vulgar, horrible way imaginable.

  "That nasty cat is just under our window," I whispered to Clara. "He'llnever 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 Iheard her get out of bed and go to the washstand, and pour ever so muchwater into the basin.

  "Oh, pray don't make any noise, dear. What are you going to do withthat water?"

  "Wait a bit, and you'll see," she whispered, tittering; and then shewent and gently opened the window, when the noise of the nasty cat cameup worse than ever.

  "You had better not throw out that water, dear," I whispered; but sheonly giggled, and then I heard the water go down splash on to the gravelwalk, and directly after--

  "Oh!" exclaimed Clara. As she spoke up came the sounds of the fallingbasin, 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 heavybody 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'shead, and it might have killed him. When as if that was not enough tofrighten him away, there were two windows thrown open on the firstfloor, and at one was Miss Furness, ringing a bell and Miss Slomanscreaming, and at the other my Lady Blunt, springing a watchman'srattle, and making the most horrible din imaginable.

  "Well, I really did not mean to do it, dear," said Clara, as coolly ascould be; "you see, the basin was soapy, and slipped."

  "What did you do it at all for, when you were asked not?" I gaspedangrily; for it was really enough to drive any one out of her senses tobe disappointed like this, time after time. All I hoped was, that poorAchille had escaped safely, and did not know from which window themissile came; for, only fancy, he might have thought that I had thrownit, and never forgiven me.

  You never could have imagined such a disturbance to have proceeded fromso small a cause. There were doors opening and shutting, girlsscreaming, bells ringing; and there we all were, at last, trembling andshaking upon the staircase and landings--all but Patty Smith, who wouldnot get out of bed.

  "Dere's de police!" exclaimed the Fraulein, all at once; and directlyafter we could hear Mrs Blunt and Miss Furness talking to some one outof their windows; while now there was a profound silence fallen upon theshivering group, and I shuddered as I recognised the deep-toned voiceout of doors, and knew it to be that of one familiar with the interiorof the grounds.

  "Search the garden thoroughly, policeman," cried Mrs Blunt, from onewindow.

  "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 wasout there?"

  "I'm going to look, aint I?" growled the man. "But there aint nobodyout here now, even if there was at all. I aint seen anybody in theroad."

  I did feel so glad to hear what he said, for I was all in a shiver lestmy poor boy should be caught.

  "He's gone, mum," said the low fellow, after he had been away about fivemi
nutes. "Aint not a soul 'cept me in the garding. What had he been upto, mum?"

  "Oh, it was a dreadful noise out there," cried Mrs Blunt, from behindthe curtains. "It sounded like some one smashing in the dining-roomwindows. Pray look, policeman."

  All this conversation sounded quite plain to us on the stairs, for MrsBlunt's door and window were both open; and then I could hear thepoliceman's heavy step on the gravel, crunching and crackling as he trodon and began kicking about the pieces of Clara's broken basin.

  "Why, here's some one been shying the chayney outer window," said thepoliceman. "Here's most half a wash-hand basin and a whole stodge ofbits squandered all over the gravel walk. That's what you heerd,