But, there, I could not help it--it was fate, my fate, and his fate--my fate to be his murderess, his to be drowned; and I would have given worlds, if I had had them, to be able to faint, when about eleven o'clock the cook came to the door, and asked Mrs Blunt, in a strange, mysterious way, to please come into the conservatory. For the man servant had not come back from the station, and taking Ann's boxes. "Oh, he's there, he's there!" I muttered, as I wrung my hands beneath the table, and closed my eyes, thinking of the inquest and the other horrors to come; and seeing in imagination his wet body laid upon the white stones in the conservatory. Oh, how I wanted to faint--how I tried to faint, and go off in a deep swoon, that should rest me for a while from the racking thoughts that troubled me. But I could not manage it anyhow; for of course nothing but the real thing would do at such a time as this. Out went Mrs Blunt, to return in five minutes with what I thought to be a terribly pale face, as she beckoned out the three teachers who were most in her confidence, Miss Murray being considered too young and imprudent. There! I never felt anything so agonising in my life--never; and I could not have borne it any longer anyhow. I'm sure, in another moment I must have been horribly hysterical and down upon the floor, tapping the boards with my heels, as I once saw mamma--and of course such things are hereditary--only I was saved by hearing a step upon the gravel. Then my heart leaped just after the fashion of that gentleman's who wanted Maud to come into the garden so very badly. For there I could see the real eyes coming along the shrubbery, peeping over the fur collar of a long cloak, which hung down to the heels. And I felt so relieved, that a great heavy sob, that had been sticking in my throat all the morning, leaped out suddenly, and made Patty Smith look up and stare. Then came tramping in Mrs Blunt and the three teachers, and as they whispered together, I was quite startled, for they talked about something being dragged out of the cistern with the tongs. And now I knew it could not be Achille, but made sure it was the poor Signor; when I felt nearly as bad as before, though I kept telling myself that it was quite impossible for them to have lifted the poor, dear, drowned dead man out with a pair of tongs--even if he was not so very stout. But there, my misery was again put an end to by the Fraulein, who said, out loud,-- "Oh, yes, it was. I see de mark--C. Fitzacre." And then I knew that it must have been one of Clara's handkerchiefs that had been fished out, and "blessed my stars that my stars blessed me" by not letting it be my handkerchief that they had discovered. There was a step in the hall, and how my heart fluttered! "Monsieur Achille de Tiraille for the French lesson," squeaked Miss Furness.