And what was the use of going to sleep, to be in such trouble that I did not know what to do--dreams, dreams, dreams, and all of such a horrible kind! Now it was Achille in danger, now it was the white figure coming in at the door, and one moment Patty Smith, and then changing into Mrs Blunt and Miss Furness, Miss Sloman and the Fraulein; while, last of all, if it was not mamma, looking dreadfully cross, and then scolding me for my bad behaviour. Oh, it was terrible! And I don't think that I ever before passed such a night. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. MEMORY THE EIGHTEENTH--IN TERRIBLE SUSPENSE. My spirits rose a little after breakfast the next morning, though I only smiled sadly as I thought of my many disappointments; but we had had a long talk with Patty, and she had faithfully promised never, upon any consideration, to divulge one of our secrets. Of course I did not like making another confidante; but, under the circumstances, what could one do? "Ah!" said Patty; "but it was a great shame that you did not tell me before." "Why, we should have told you," said Clara--a wicked storyteller--"only you do sleep so soundly, dear." Though, after all, perhaps that was nearly the truth; for, if she had not slept so soundly, we should have been obliged to let her into our secrets sooner. This satisfied her, but it did not satisfy me; for the stupid creature must go about looking so knowing, and cunning, and deep, and laugh and leer at Clara, and nod and wink at me, all day long, till it was dreadfully aggravating, and enough to make anybody suspicious; and I almost wonder that one of the watchful dragons did not have something to say about it. "Why, we shall be obliged to have her in the room all the time," I said to Clara, as I was thinking of my next interview with Achille; that is, if I ever was to have another. "Never mind, dear," replied Clara; "it cannot matter much. She is very stupid, and I daresay that I can keep her in order." I contrived to let Achille know all when he came the next day, and gave him to understand that he might try again upon any night he liked; for the last was only a false alarm, and all would have gone well had I but only held tightly by the cord. I gave him the information, written in French, at the top of my exercise, while Miss Furness was in the room, when if he had not the audacity to call me up to his elbow--for he had seen it all in an instant--and if he did not point out and mark two or three mistakes in the note I had scribbled so hastily at the top about the last meeting. However, I suppose he wished me to speak his own language correctly; and none but the brave deserve the fair.