say stealing,it looks so bad--hurrying away. Then we heard the Fraulein come in, andher bed creak loudly as she lay down; and once more all was quiet, and Ifelt sure that they could not have seen or heard anything, but I darednot get up once more to see. Clara said she was sure she heard MrsBlunt talking to the policeman out of the window again. Perhaps shedid, but I did not; though it was most likely, after the ringing of thealarm bell.
"What are you sobbing for?" said Clara, all at once.
"Oh, I know he's killed," I said.
"Pooh, nonsense," she replied, in her unfeeling way, "he only went plopamong the bushes; and they say exiles always manage to fall on theirfeet when they come to England, just like cats. He is not hurt, unlesshe has scratched that beautiful face of his a little bit."
"Then you don't think he is killed, dear?" I said, seeking for comfort,alas! where I was but little likely to find it, I'm sorry to say.
"Not I," said Clara; "it was not far enough to fall."
"I sha'n't go no more," drawled Patty; "it ain't half such fun as Ithought it was. Why didn't he come right up?"
"Don't be such a goose!" cried Clara to the noodle. "Why, didn't he gethis leg caught, and then didn't the rope give way?"
"I'm sure I dunno," said Patty, yawning; and then, in spite of all thetrouble, we all dropped off fast asleep.
CHAPTER NINETEEN.
MEMORY THE NINETEENTH--OUR NEW GUARDIAN.
For a few moments after I woke I could not make out what made me feel soheavy and dull. Of course, it was partly owing to their ringing thatstupid bell down in the hall so early, for fear we should have a morseltoo much sleep; but all at once, as upon other occasions, I rememberedabout the previous night and poor Achille; when, of course, the firstthing I did was to rush to the window and throw it up, to try and catcha glimpse of the scene of the last night's peril, when the first thingmy eyes rested upon was that horrid Miss Furness taking herconstitutional, and, of course, as soon as she saw me she must shake herfinger angrily, because I appeared at the window with my hair alltumbled. I never saw anything like that woman. I always did compareher to an old puss, for she seemed as if she could do without sleep, andalways got up at such unnatural hours in the morning, even when theweather was cold and dark, and wet, when it seemed her delight to go outsplashing and puddling about in her goloshes; and somehow, or another,she never seemed to catch cold as anybody else would if she had acted inthe same way. It must have cost her half her salary for green silkumbrellas; for James generally managed to spoil every one's umbrellawhen they were given him to dry, and Miss Furness never would use anybut the neatest and most genteel-looking parapluies, being the onlything in which she displayed good taste.
Of course I had a good look out as soon as I was quite ready to go down,when I could see that the flower bed was a great deal trampled, one ofthe bushes was quite crushed, so that I knew there would be a terribleto do about it as soon as it was noticed.
"Well, is he there?" said Clara, "or is it only his pieces? Do makehaste down, and run and secure his heart, before they pick it up, andput it on a barrow to wheel away."
"La!" said wide-open-mouthed Patty, staring; "he would not break, wouldhe?"
"Oh, yes," replied Clara. "French gentlemen are very fickle andbrittle, so I should not at all wonder if he broke."
"Better break himself than the jam pots," I said, spitefully, when Claracoloured up terribly, as she always did when the Signor was in any wayalluded to; for though I did not like to hurt her feelings about the jamwhen she was shut up, of course, she had not been at liberty long beforeshe heard all about it I know it was mean on my part to retaliate as Idid, but then she had no business to speak in that way; for it was toobad to make fun out of such trouble. Then, of course, she must turnquite huffy and cross, and go down without speaking; for some peoplenever can bear to be joked themselves, even when their sole delightconsists in tormenting other people.
I could not but think that poor Achille had escaped unhurt, though attimes I went through the same suffering as I did on the morning afterthe discovery in the conservatory;--and really, when one comes to thinkof it, it is wonderful that no suspicion ever attached to either Achilleor myself over that dreadful set-out. Breakfast over, I seemed torevive a little; though I must confess that what roused me more thananything was Miss Furness finding out that I looked pale and red-eyed,and saying that she thought I required medicine.
"For you know, Miss Bozerne, a little foresight is often the means ofarresting a dangerous illness; so I think I shall call Mrs de Blount'sattention to your state."
"Oh, please, don't, ma'am," I said. "I assure you that I feelparticularly well this morning."
But she only gave one of her self-satisfied smiles and bows; when incame the tall footman to say that the gardener wished to speak with"missus."
"Missus" was not there, so the footman went elsewhere to find her; butthe very mention of that gardener brought my heart to my mouth, aspeople say; though I really wonder whether that is true--I should liketo know. Then I had a fit of trembling, for I made sure that he hadfound poor Achille, lying where he had crawled, with all his bonesbroken, in some out-of-the way corner of the garden; perhaps, possibly,to slake his fevered thirst in my favoured spot, close by the ferns, andthe miserable fountain that never played, green and damp beneath thetrees.
But I could not afford to think; for just then the door was opened, andMrs Blunt stood with it ajar, talking to the gardener in the hall, andof course I wanted to catch what he said; when, just as if out ofaggravation, the girls made a terrible buzzing noise. But I heardenough to tell me that it was all about the past night, and I caught aword here and there about bushes broken, and big footsteps, andtrampled, and so on; while, as a conclusion to a conversation which hadroused my spirits by telling me that poor Achille had not been found,Mrs Blunt placed a terrible damper upon all by saying--
"It must have been the policeman, gardener; and he shall be spoken torespecting being more careful. But for the future we'll have a big dog,and he shall be let loose in the garden every night."
I could have rained down tears upon my exercises, and washed out the inkfrom the paper, when I heard those words; for in imagination, like somegladiator of old, in the brutal arena, gazed upon by Roman maids andmatrons, when battling with some fierce wild beast of the forest, I sawpoor Achille struggling with a deep-mouthed, fang-toothed, steel-jawedbloodhound, fighting valiantly to have but a minute's interview with me;while, dissolving-view-like, the scene seemed to change, and I saw him,torn and bleeding, expiring fast, and blessing me with his last words ashis eyes closed. Then I was planting flowers upon his grave, wateringthem with my tears, and plaiting a wreath of immortelles to hang uponone corner of the stone that bore his name, ere I departed for Guisnesto take the veil and shut myself for ever from a world that had been tome one of woe and desolation.
"Oh, Achille! beloved, martyred Achille!" I muttered, with my eyesclosed to keep in the tears, when I was snatched back to the realitiesof the present by the voice of Miss Furness, who snappishly exclaimed--
"Perhaps you had better go and lie down for an hour, Miss Bozerne, ifyou cannot get on with your exercise without taking a nap in between thelines."
I sighed--oh, so bitter and despairing a sigh!--and then went on with mytask, sadly, sorrowfully, and telling myself that all was indeed nowlost, and 'twere vain to battle with fate, and I must learn to sit andsorrow till the sun should shine upon our love.
The dog came.
Such a wretch! I'm sure no one ever before possessed such a horrible,mongrel creature. Instead of being a large, noble-looking mastiff orhound, or Newfoundland dog, it was a descendant, I feel convinced, ofthe celebrated Snarleyyow that used to bite poor Smallbones, and devourhis dinner. It was one of those dogs that you cannot pet for love,because they are so disagreeable, nor from fear, because they will notlet you; for every advance made was met by a display of teeth; while ifyou bribed it with nice pieces of bread, they were sna
pped from yourhand, and the escapes of your fingers were miraculous. I should haveliked to have poisoned the nasty, fierce thing; but, of course, I darednot attempt such a deed. And what surprised me was Mrs Blunt beingable to get one so soon, though the reason was plain enough--the wretchhad belonged to a neighbour who was only too glad to get rid of it, andhearing that Mrs Blunt wanted a dog, jumped at the chance, and I knowhe must have gone away laughing and chuckling. We used to call thehorrid wretch Cyclops, for he had only one eye; but such an eye! a fieryred orb, that seemed to burn, while the wretch was as big almost as acalf. I knew that poor Achille would never dare any more adventures nowfor my sake; and it did seem such cruel work, for a whole fortnight hadpassed since I had
A Fluttered Dovecote Page 29