The words were barely uttered, before a loud and impatient ring at the gate-bell assured Miss Chutney that it could be none other than Miss Wewitz herself come back, and again she hurriedly entreated the Frenchman to be gone.
The cunning foreigner, however, told her it was impossible for him to escape unseen, alleging that the servant had already opened the hall-door on her way to the gate, so that for him even to attempt to cross the passage now, would be to publish that which she was so anxious to keep secret.
“But you cannot remain here, sir!” exclaimed the terrified girl—“Miss Wewitz will be sure to look into this room, and if she catches you with me—oh, dear!—oh, dear! Please do go; there’s a good man—do, please.”
“N’ayez pas peur, mon ange! ma déesse!” cried the hyperbolic Natif de Paris, kissing the tips of his fingers as he spoke; and then, as he heard the gate close, he looked hurriedly round the room, exclaiming, “Vere vill I go—vere vill I go? Mese, vere vill I go?”
But there was not in the whole apartment a cupboard, nor a screen, within or behind which the Count could secrete himself; and he flew round the room, as he looked wildly about, like a cat in a strange house. “Vat vill I do?” he cried again and again; and then, as he heard the footsteps in the passage approaching the music-room, he suddenly raised the stiff leathern cover from off one of the large globes that stood at opposite corners of the room, and, hastily putting it over his head and shoulders, knelt down beneath it, so that it concealed his whole body.
The Frenchman had scarcely had time to settle himself under the huge cover when Miss Wewitz entered the apartment hastily—saying, “A thought has just struck me, my love. You know, my dear Chutney, you are not a child, and I can speak to you as I would to a sister. Mine, my good girl, is a delicate position. You are far away from your parents, and an orphan, as it were, placed under my charge; and if anything were to happen to you your papa and mamma would never forgive me, and I’m sure I should never be able to hold my head up again. Now you know, my love, mamma has been imprudent enough to admit a number of those horrid foreigners under our roof, and you must really be aware how necessary it is, both for your and my sake, that I should take every precaution, so that there may be no possibility of your being insulted by the creatures. Now promise me, dear Miss Chutney, you’ll keep this door locked until I return. Directly it struck me that I had left you alone here, with all those men on the premises, I couldn’t go a step further until I had assured myself of your perfect safety. Now you’ll lock yourself in the moment I’ve quitted you, and not open the door again till I come back to any one, under any pretence. You’ll promise me, now—won’t you, there’s a dear girl?”
Miss Chutney stood close in front of the globe, trembling lest the cover should move and discover one of the much-dreaded foreigners to be hidden beneath, and stammered out, as well as she was able under the circumstances, that she would be “sure and do as Miss Wewitz desired.”
Miss Wewitz was about to take her departure, and, indeed, had closed the music-room door after her, when she suddenly opened it again, as the affrighted Miss Chutney jumped once more in front of the heavenly sphere.
“Oh!” exclaimed the schoolmistress, “upon second thoughts, my dear child, I should be far more easy and comfortable in my mind, if I were to lock you in myself, and take the key with me in my pocket; for then, you know, my love, I should be sure no harm could come to you.”
Chutney turned as pale as a young lady of East Indian extraction could turn, and replied: “I’m sure—it’s—a—very good of you, ma’am—a—to take care of me, but—a—I can assure you I shall be safe—a—indeed I shall, ma’am.”