Our plans had been well made; and, screwing up my courage, I stepped along the passage, down to the first floor, and reached the large staircase window in safety, slided it up, and, to my intense joy, there was poor, wet Achille standing at the top of a strong step-ladder, ready to assist me down. "Enfin, mon ange," he whispered, as I climbed tremblingly upon the sill as quickly as possible; for I had heard words spoken at the foot of the stairs, and I knew directly what they meant, as dining-room and drawing-room doors were thrown open, and lights streamed out. Yes, I knew what Clara afterwards told me was the case--Miss Furness had picked up the note, and they were all collected in the hall and passage, ready to capture me when I descended, little thinking that the window mentioned meant that upon the first floor. "Now dis foot--now dat," he hissed through his teeth; and, somehow, I don't know in what way, he guided me down the ladder, to which I clung tightly, wet as it was; and, as lights and faces appeared at the open window, Achille dragged the ladder down, and we were in full flight across the lawn; where he supported me with one hand, and trailed the ladder after us with the other. "Dere goes de confound bell," cried Achille. "No, no," he whispered, "not yet--don't faint, mon ange." "But the dog? Where is the dog?" I exclaimed. "Having one great pound of steaks and two mutton bones," he replied. And then, with the murmur of voices behind, and the bell ringing loudly, we hurried through the wet bushes to the wall, where he placed the ladder, and this time nerving myself, I mounted it boldly, and before I knew where I was I found myself helped down into a carriage drawn close up at the side--that is to say, into the cart; for Achille had been so unfortunate that he could not procure a post-chaise. There, with an umbrella to protect me from the inclemency of the weather, I sat upon the hard seat between Achille and the rough man who was the driver. "That ere was the pleeceman as we passed," growled the latter, directly after we had started. "P'raps they shall want him at de house," replied Achille, laughing. Away onward we tore, for fully an hour and a half, through the dark night, and through the rain, which would keep coming, blown by the gusts, right underneath the umbrella, in spite of all _he_ did to protect me. And in spite of all my efforts and the tender words of Achille--whispered to me in his own dear tongue--I could not keep from shivering; for somehow all this did not seem so very nice, and romantic, and pleasant.