We were not many seconds scuffling into bed; and, just as we lay down, we heard the Fraulein's door open, and then there were voices talking and a good deal of buzzing about, for quite half an hour. But we thought it better not to go out; for, when Clara took a peep, Miss Furness was hunting several of the girls back into their rooms with-- "Nothing the matter, young ladies. Back to your dormitories." So we lay quite still, and listened; while I essayed to allay my horrible fears about poor Achille, and tried to fancy that every sigh of the wind among the branches was him stealing--no, I won't say stealing, it looks so bad--hurrying away. Then we heard the Fraulein come in, and her bed creak loudly as she lay down; and once more all was quiet, and I felt sure that they could not have seen or heard anything, but I dared not get up once more to see. Clara said she was sure she heard Mrs Blunt talking to the policeman out of the window again. Perhaps she did, but I did not; though it was most likely, after the ringing of the alarm 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 plop among the bushes; and they say exiles always manage to fall on their feet when they come to England, just like cats. He is not hurt, unless he 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 I thought it was. Why didn't he come right up?" "Don't be such a goose!" cried Clara to the noodle. "Why, didn't he get his leg caught, and then didn't the rope give way?" "I'm sure I dunno," said Patty, yawning; and then, in spite of all the trouble, we all dropped off fast asleep. CHAPTER NINETEEN. MEMORY THE NINETEENTH--OUR NEW GUARDIAN.