England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Humorous stories; Schools -- Fiction; Teenage girls -- Fiction
But there, who could expect to enjoy the roses of love without the
thorns? And yet, I don't know how it was, there seemed to be something
wrong altogether that night; for I heard Clara gape twice, and I had to
cover my mouth to stay more than one yawn, while I'm sure the gentlemen
both wanted to go; though, of course, I could make plenty of excuses for
poor Achille--he must have been so wet and uncomfortable--though I did
offer to lend him my handkerchief to wipe away some of the water.
I should think that we had been carrying on a whispered conversation for
about a quarter of an hour, when all at once I exclaimed in a deep
whisper--
"Hush!--what was that?" We all started; for as I spoke, startled by the
click as of a window fastening, there was the sound of an opening sash.
A light flashed out above our heads, and shone upon the skylight, the
leads, and the back staircase window, when if there, quite plain, was
not a policeman standing by a figure at the latter. Then there was a
hurrying scramble, and the shutting of a sash; and we could hear voices,
while we all stood in the shade, silent as mice, and trembling so that
the gentlemen had to hold us tightly.
"Von sbirro veseet de maiden," said the Signor, in a whisper.
"Oh! what shall we do?" gasped Clara.
"_Taisez_!" hissed Achille, who seemed to come out nobly in the great
trouble--"_taisez_, and all shall be well; my faith, yes--it is so."
"They will us not see," whispered the Signor.
"_Mais non_!" ejaculated Achille. "But that police? What of him? We
must wait."
"Oh, yes," I said, "pray do not move. It is one of the servants who has
been discovered. I am sure that we shall be safe if we keep quite
still."
But the words were no sooner out of my mouth than there was a burst of
light through the half-closed shutters behind us, a buzz of voices, and
Lady Blunt, the four teachers, and several of the pupils, hurried into
the drawing-room; and then, seeing the partly closed shutters, stood for
a moment as if afraid to come any further.
I darted from _pauvre_ Achille, giving him a sharp jerk at the same
moment; and, as my elbow crashed through a pane of glass, and I slipped
behind the great green blind in the corner, I heard an exclamation in
French. There was a great splash, followed by a noise as of some large
body snorting and floundering in the great tank; and my blood ran cold,
as I wanted to run out, but felt chained to the spot where I was
concealed.
"I have murdered him, I know!" I gasped.
At the very same moment there was a fearful scream from poor Clara, as
the light of half-a-dozen candles shone upon her smutty face, where
there was the mark of a hand all down one cheek. And, frightened though
I was, I seemed to notice everything, as if my senses were all
sharpened; and, at one and the same time, I saw my own trouble, Clara,
and my poor Achille drowning in the great tank.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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